The Cupcake Coven

by Ashlyn Chase

  The Cupcake Coven

  Ashlyn Chase

  Published by Imagination Unlimited, LLC at Smashwords

  Copyright © Ashlyn Chase 2014

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Art by Holly A. Kennedy

  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Character names, incidents, places and persons are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, persons, alive or dead, places or situations is coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-0990388715

  To my incredible husband, whom I call Mr. Amazing, because seriously folks, he can do just about anything to near perfection. He’s a true Renaissance man.

  And to my dear daughter. She’s the best of all my creations and always will be.

  A huge thank you to Cross Roads House, Inc. of Portsmouth, NH, especially Dan Mitchell, Director of Operations.

  I had hoped he would answer a few quick questions, but instead he gave me a full tour of the homeless shelter and answered all my questions plus a few I didn’t know I had. They earn their tag line: New Directions for the Homeless.

  A big thank you to Dr. Jonathan Weiss, a Massachusetts psychiatrist, for providing his expertise in the area of dissociative amnesia.

  I’d also like to thank Charlie, owner of a Windham, NH, bakery for answering all kinds of nosy questions about owning and operating a small bakery.

  And as always I need to thank my fabulous critique partner Mia Marlowe for her wonderful suggestions, comedic quips that make their way into the manuscript, and eye for plot holes. Also in this category is Brooklyn Ann, whose attention to detail picked up every typo, misspelled word, and crimes of crappy grammar.

  Finally, I need to give a big hug and thank you to my agent Nicole Resciniti, for her fab skills, emotional support and brilliant left brain. Without her I wouldn’t have had the guts to try Indie publishing.

  Dru Tanner sang softly as he entered the hotel elevator, not even trying to hide his Texas twang. “Another Midsummer Night and I ain’t got no honey. I got some buddies ‘cuz I just got intoacoven.” He chuckled at his terrible parody of a popular song and hoped he had found the right place.

  This fancy hotel didn’t seem like it would be home to a bunch of witches casting spells and dancing under the full moon. Maybe east coast witches were a classier sort, he told himself.

  The top floor held a few suites, and he had been given directions to one of them. He’d never met most of these witches before, but they couldn’t be worse than the Austin crazies. Now he knew why Austin, Texas used the slogan, “Keep Austin Weird.”

  The elevator let him out on the top floor, and he saw only a few double doors.

  If you can’t find it now, Tanner, you’re hopeless.

  Ever since he’d come east, he’d lost all sense of direction. People navigated by lefts and rights. Not north and south. When he and his pick-up had found their way to Boston and saw a sign marked, “Salem,” Dru thought he was almost there. Not so much.

  He knocked on the door of suite 712 and held his breath without meaning to. When the door swept open and a friendly blonde greeted him, he immediately began to relax.

  “Are you Dru?” she asked.

  “I am.” He’d left his cowboy hat on his bed at the rooming house where he was staying temporarily, but he was still tempted to pull on the brim in salute.

  “Hello. I’m Cassandra, but my witch name is Celestia. We call each other by our witch names during our rituals, but it’s either/or at any other time.”

  “Oh. I’m afraid I don’t have another name. Just Dru.” Crap. I didn’t know about witch names. That makes for a whole new wrinkle. No wonder nobody in Salem ever heard of his sister Shasta.

  “Really? Were you a solitary?”

  “Yes, ma’am. A solitary witch. No need to call myself anything fancy when it was just me and the Goddess.” An idea came to him that might work. “But Dru is actually short for Druid. My mamma was kind of a new agey type.”

  Cassandra chuckled. “You’re not alone there. Come in. I’ll introduce you to our high priestess.”

  A half dozen women milled around the suite. Two were in the kitchen, setting out coffee cups and small plates. Two sat side by side on a sky blue velvet sofa and they seemed to be deep in conversation. One woman, a little on the heavy side, bent over what had to be the altar, and Cassandra led him over to her.

  Just then, a toilet flushed and a few moments later a man exited what must have been the bathroom, giving his hands a final wipe on his black jeans.

  “High priestess, I’d like to introduce you to Druid,” Cassandra said.

  He stuck out his hand for a friendly handshake and said, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

  She smiled. “Druid is your real name?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I was just telling Miss Cassandra here that my mamma was into the new-age thing when I was born. Everybody calls me Dru, though.”

  “I feel for you. My real name is Hazel, and I’m a hereditary witch.”

  “Witch Hazel?”

  She nodded, smirking. “You got it. Naturally, I prefer my witch name.”

  “Which is…?”

  “Hanna.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Hanna. Is there anything I can do to help set up?”

  “Not really. Did you bring anything to place on the altar?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dru reached into his oversized jacket pocket and pulled out a rose quartz in the shape of a heart.

  “That’s beautiful!” Cassandra said. “Perfect for a love spell.”

  “The person I spoke to at the store said that love was the theme for the night.”

  “Yes,” Hanna said. “We try to keep our spells related, so the power of the group supports each other’s intentions.”

  “That’s real smart. How often do you meet? Every full moon like most covens do?”

  Hanna nodded. “The Coven of the Triquetra sticks to tradition as much as possible.”

  The gentleman who’d been drying his hands stepped into the space next to him. “Some thought the traditional rules should be changed from every full moon if you find it convenient to every solstice and equinox unless you’re dead.” The man held out his right hand. “I’m Ethan. Believe it or not, some witches can be a little flaky.”

  Dru chuckled. “Do you have a witch name?”

  “Yes. It’s Aubrey.”

  “Why Aubrey?”

  “It’s an English version of a French name that was derived from two German words that mean elf king.”

  Dru raised his eyebrows. “And are you an elf king?”

  Ethan laughed. “No. I’m a tug boat captain.”

  “Sorry. I just had to ask. Some of the witches in Austin thought they were genuine fairies and had pet dragons.”

  Ethan groaned and rolled his eyes. “You won’t find that here. Our members are pretty well grounded.”

  “I notice everyone’s dressed in black,” Dru said. “I’m afraid I didn’t get the memo. Is that a problem for tonight?”

  Hanna had placed his rock on a corner of the altar and looked up. “Not at all. It’s just tradition. I’m sure our ancestors wore their best brown burlap in their circles. You can borrow my black cape if you want to.”

  “Thank you, kindly, Hanna. Next time, I’ll dress in black.”

  “Well, let’s sit and get to know each other while we wait for the others.”

  “Sure.” Let’s chat and see how bat-shit crazy y’all are. The furniture had been spread around the room in a wide arc and placed so that everyone
fit into a circle when seated. He was about to take a seat facing the windows when the door opened and a beautiful brown haired slip- of-a-girl walked in. Their gazes met and held.

  “Oh, Rebecca. I’m glad you’re here,” Hanna said. “Did you bring the cakes?”

  She tore her gaze away from Dru and smiled at the high priestess. “Yes. I think you’re going to like them.” She grinned.

  She had just the slightest gap between her top two front teeth. He wouldn’t have thought so, but it was kinda cute and sexy.

  “Rebecca is a local baker. She creates the offerings for the Goddess.”

  She chuckled. “And then we all eat them afterward.”

  “Sounds good to me.” As opposed to a twelve foot goddess descending upon us and downing a bagful of baked goods. Dru reached for the bag she held. “Can I take that for you?”

  “Please. They go on the altar, but I’ll get a plate first.”

  She handed him the bag and he opened it, taking an appreciative whiff. “Mmm…This smells great.” The scent reminded him of the plum pudding his mother made at Christmas—correction, Yule. I have to remember to call the holidays by their pagan names. He caught a sweet alcohol scent. Probably rum or brandy.

  Rebecca hurried off to the kitchen. He couldn’t help watching her clingy black skirt swish as she walked away. When he turned his gaze back to Hanna, she was watching him with a smile he could only call ‘sly,’ as if she knew something he didn’t.

  “So, what brought you to Portsmouth, Dru?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I was on my way to Salem, Mass, but I guess I followed the wrong sign, because I wound up in Salem, New Hampshire.”

  Hanna laughed. “You’re probably not the first one to make that mistake.”

  “How the hell…” Ethan scratched his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t judge. You’re obviously not from around here.”

  “Did you ever find the right Salem?” Hanna asked.

  “Eventually. I remembered that the Salem I was looking for was right on the ocean and turned my pick-up east onto route 111. When I found the ocean, I was still a bit north of Massachusetts.”

  A few other members had wandered over to hear his story. Some of them looked at him incredulously. Maybe I’m over doing the dumb cowboy act. He was reminded of one of the sayings he was raised with. Lettin’ the cat out of the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin’ it back in. He didn’t want anyone to expect too much of him, but he didn’t want them to think he’d been dropped on his head either.

  “Typical guy. Just couldn’t stop and ask for directions.”

  A few of the other female witches chuckled.

  The woman who spoke stuck her hand out. She looked like Cher…a lot like her. Tall, heavily made up, wearing lots of sparkle and long, dark wavy tresses. “Hi. I’m Raven.”

  Dru shook his or her hand and noticed the mannish size and extra strong grip. Could she be a he? Not that it really mattered. She was friendly enough.

  “That’s my witch name. My real name is Keith.”

  So that answers that. “Hell, I thought learning twelve names was going to be hard enough. Now it’s up to twenty-four?”

  He couldn’t believe he was trusting a Salem witch’s psychic reading to lead him to his missing sister, but it was all he had.

  Rebecca approached with a long plate, which she placed on the altar. She reached for the bag. “Thanks for holding the rum cakes. I’ll unwrap them.”

  As he handed the white bakery bag to her he said, “Rum cakes. I thought I smelled something like that. I’ll bet they’re mighty tasty.”

  She smiled. “They should be. I loaded them up with tons of dark rum.”

  “Just how the goddess likes ‘em, I’ll bet.” She returned his grin. Her teeth were white and straight, and even with that little gap between the top two she may have had braces to make them that straight.

  “So what’s your witch name?”

  “I don’t have one. I just go by Rebecca.”

  Whew. So we’re down to twenty-three names.

  Hanna waited until he was seated and then asked, “You said you eventually found Salem, Mass? What brought you back up here?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t want to sound disrespectful or anything, but after seeing the other Salem, I decided I liked New Hampshire a little better. People were more relaxed and it wasn’t as crowded as Massachusetts. Not to mention no sales tax. So I decided to give New Hampshire another look.”

  “We have no income tax either,” Hanna added.

  “No kidding? That’s handy, because I have to get me one of those.”

  “One of what’s?” Rebecca asked.

  “An income.” He hoped that didn’t turn her off, but at least she’d know he was planning to stay a while…unless he found his sister or another lead.

  “So you wound up in Portsmouth,” Hanna said. “You must have stopped when you realized if you crossed the bridge, you’d be in Maine.”

  “Yeah. Small states you have here. Pretty though. I had lunch in a nice little place right on the water where I could see some boats. I walked around the town afterward and found the new age store. One of the ladies who worked there told me about your coven and said there might be an opening.”

  “That would be Myranda.”

  “Yeah. Myranda.”

  As if on cue, the door opened wide and the woman from the shop said, “Did I hear my name? What are you saying about me? Nothing good, I hope.”

  A whole group entered behind her. Dru did a quick count, and sure enough…including him, there were thirteen people. The complete coven at last.

  Just before the door closed, a voice called out, “Wait a minute.”

  Huh? Fourteen members? Crap. Now we’re up to twenty-five names again. Or is it twenty-three. Dru’s head was beginning to spin.

  Everyone exclaimed, “Michele!” and rushed to embrace the late comer.

  Hmmm...I wonder what’s so special about this one.

  “Dru,” Hanna said, “This is the witch whose place you’ll be taking. We’re also going to do a departure ritual to bless her way.”

  The beautiful, willowy blonde appeared troubled in some way. Dark shadows under her eyes and sagging shoulders made her appear exhausted.

  “It looks like she’s leaving pretty big shoes for me to fill.”

  Michele must have heard him. She glanced down at her petite feet.

  “I didn’t mean that literally, ma’am. It’s just that you seem so loved is all.”

  Michele smiled, although there was sadness there. “Let me guess. Texas?”

  Dru couldn’t help being a little surprised. He knew he had an accent, but he was doing his best to temper it. He didn’t say, ‘lit’rally’ instead of literally. “Wow, you must be psychic.”

  “Not as much as I’d like,” she said. The others seemed to find a deeper meaning in her words because a few, ‘Awww’s’ followed.

  “Well, it looks like everyone’s here,” Hanna said. “Dru. Would you like to participate or just observe this time?”

  “I didn’t know I had a choice.”

  “Well, since Michele is here, you can do either one. We have our thirteen.”

  Since he’d heard that each coven did things a little differently and Dru had felt embarrassed about not wearing black, observing sounded mighty good. “I’d be happy just to watch, y’all,” he said.

  “Okay. You can stand anywhere behind the chairs.”

  Dru strolled to the open kitchen and leaned against the counter. “Is back here all right?”

  “Perfect. I just ask that you save any questions you may have for later.”

  “I’ll be quiet as a mouse on a dirt road.”

  The group gathered and Rebecca wound up with her back to Dru. Too bad, since she wanted to observe the tall Texan’s reaction—and his sky-blue eyes that crinkled in the corners when he smiled. Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted to admire those muscles she saw bulging under his shirt and tight jeans
.

  He didn’t seem like he fit in comfortably, but she hoped she was wrong. She really liked him and hoped to talk to him more after the ritual. Maybe they could help each other. He needed an income, and she needed an employee. Not that she could afford to pay him much.

  Hanna swept the area with her broom, then took her place at the altar and lit the incense. Myranda salted the circle behind the members, but left Dru on the other side. Rebecca said a quick silent prayer that the Goddess would protect him too.

  Hanna went into a trance, then lifted the long wand that had been leaning against the side of the altar and pointed it over their heads. Rotating in place, she drew a circle, as if the wand was a very long pencil.

  “I cast and charge this circle to protect us from all negative influences that may come to do us harm.”

  Her voice took on a different tone whenever she was in trance. Rebecca heard Dru shift behind her and wondered if the words or the change in her voice made him uncomfortable. She really hoped she was wrong, but she had the feeling he was very new to all this.

  Hanna made her second rotation, saying, “I draw into this circle only the aspects and energies of the universe that are most correct for our ritual intentions.”

  On the third rotation, she announced a little louder, “I cast this circle and create sacred space. So mote it be.”

  She tucked the wand back in its place, then lit the black and white candles on the altar. With the golden pentacle in her left hand, she thrust it toward the windows, and called out, “I invite the guardians of the watchtowers of the East to enter this rite and guard this circle. I invoke you now. So mote it be.”

  After making a quarter turn each time, she repeated the words, inviting the watchtowers of the south, west and at last, “I invite the guardian of the watchtowers of the North to enter this rite and guard this circle. I invoke you now. So mote it be.”

  Hanna set the Peyton down. “The circle is now cast, and we are between the worlds, beyond the borders of time, where night and day, sun and moon, rebirth and passing meet as one. On this night, with the moon in her full phase, I invite the Lord and Lady to enter this space, and allow us to align ourselves with your magical power. So mote it be.”