The Cupcake Coven

by Ashlyn Chase

  Dru did the only smart thing he could. He reached into his cowboy wisdom. If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin’.

  “Sorry for interruptin’, Rebecca. Go ahead. You were sayin’…”

  “That’s okay. Hang on a sec.” She grabbed a large bowl and set it on the counter, then laid a recipe book beside it. She found the page she wanted and clipped it open. “Let’s get the dough ready and rising. If you have any questions, let me know.”

  “You got it.” Shasta glanced around the kitchen. “Measuring cup?”

  “Oh, of course. Duh. I’m so used to the amounts, I don’t need to measure anymore.” She opened a cabinet and found measuring cups and spoons.

  Dru knew she’d be able to cook for the ranch. And boy would they love it if she made cinnamon rolls. Since the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, she’d capture the hearts of every person around their long dinner table in no time.

  As his mind wandered, Rebecca explained what he had already witnessed…the witch’s ritual circle. Shasta seemed to be paying attention despite measuring and mixing simultaneously. He couldn’t help picturing her helping Rebecca in the kitchen like she used to help their mother—until school started up again. He was determined that she finish her senior year and graduate.

  “So, it’s all set for tonight?” he asked.

  “Yes. The moon is in the right phase and it won’t be void of course.”

  Whatever that means… Dru was doing his best to get through the book Hanna gave to him, but there were many things he had yet to learn.

  One of the chapters dealt with covens and he skipped ahead to read that one first. It put his mind at ease and confirmed what he’d witnessed. And he learned a lot more—like the group of thirteen was the perfect number. It represented the thirteen moons in the lunar year. It was the strongest number for working magic, while continuing to give each member time for their individual intentions.

  Members often became friends outside the coven, and he’d seen how each would help another if asked. He learned that a coven often took on a community cause as well. He’d never asked about that, however. Now that Rebecca’s explanation was over and Shasta’s questions were answered, this might be the perfect time to ask.

  “Hey, Rebecca. I remember readin’ in my book that covens like to do good deeds in the community. Is the Coven of the Triquetra involved in somethin’ like that?”

  She beamed. “Yes. Brigit works at the animal shelter and we collect donations, pet food, blankets, whatever we can to help. It’s a no-kill shelter, so we’ve even raised money to expand it and some members foster animals.”

  “Ah. I remember seeing a donation box in Myranda’s shop. Why don’t you have one here?”

  She chuckled. “I used to. Then I got a few questions from customers making sure I wasn’t fostering animals in the kitchen.”

  Shasta laughed. “Seriously? People can be that stupid?”

  “Oh, honey. You’ll meet all kinds,” Dru said. “Some don’t know better than to squat with their spurs on.”

  The little bells over the front door jingled, so Dru strolled toward the store. “I’ll go make myself useful while you ladies keep on keepin’ on.”

  He caught sight of the guy who had pretended to be a realtor, only something was happening to him. He was twisting and shouting like a swarm of bees were attacking him.

  “You son-of-a-bitch,” he yelled when he saw Dru. “How are you doing that? Stop that!”

  “Uh…Rebecca,” Dru called out.

  She hurried out of the kitchen and stopped short. When she recognized the guy, she started laughing. “I think you’ll be fine, if you just leave,” she said.

  The guy struggled to the door, opened it and practically flung himself onto the small lawn and rolled. When he reached the sidewalk, he stood and brushed himself off. He appeared perfectly healthy. He straightened his tie and scowled at the window—which was already fixed.

  “I don’t know how you did that,” he yelled out, “but my boss still wants his money.”

  He stormed off toward the square.

  Dru caught Rebecca’s eye. “Was that the sigil magic at work?”

  “You’re starting to believe, aren’t you?”

  He whistled. “I’ve got to say, I’m mighty impressed. What do you think the sigil was doing to him?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “Looked like electric shocks to me.”

  “You said they’re made of energy, so that makes sense.” Yup. Knowing a witch can be mighty useful.

  “You think she’s a witch, Sal?”

  “I know, boss. It sounds crazy, but the place is called the Bewitching Bakery. And I can’t think of any other explanation for what happened.”

  “Hmmm…” Marvelous Marv steepled his fingers and rested his elbows on the polished mahogany desk. “But the guy didn’t seem too worried?”

  “No. He was just watching me dance around, as if a customer being zapped to death was what happened on a typical Tuesday.”

  “So, he must know about the woman’s powers. Do you think he’s a witch too?”

  “I thought only girls could be witches.” Sal realized how stupid that sounded, but hoped his misogynistic boss didn’t notice. “Aren’t the guys called warlocks or something?”

  “Damned if I know. But I have a few aunts I can ask. They’re Stregheria.”

  “What’s that? Italian for witches?”

  “Yeah. And they’re not to be messed with.”

  Marv picked up the phone and barked to his secretary. “Get my Aunt Velia on the phone.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “They’ll figure out a way to get our money. I remember hiding under the kitchen table when I was a kid and eavesdropping on one of their discussions. They were going to strike back at our butcher who was responsible for my cousin losing a finger by using some kind of inferior meat cutter.

  “They were having a big debate over whether that was considered ‘drawing first blood.’ My Aunt Velia said they were justified in using some kind of war magic if it was.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “They couldn’t come to an agreement. There were a few hold-outs who insisted it was an accident and didn’t want to cause the butcher to take off one of his own fingers. Probably worried they’d never get the best cuts of meat again—or that one of them would end up with his finger in their beef stew.” He laughed.

  “Shit. An eye for an eye, kind of thing?”

  “Yeah, except a finger for a finger. My Aunt Velia settled for giving him one of her own fingers…the middle one.”

  They both laughed until the intercom buzzed and Marv answered it.

  “Yeah?”

  “Your Aunt is on the phone.”

  “Put her through.”

  Even though Marv had asked his secretary to make the call, he’d have thought nothing of making his Auntie wait until he was good and ready to talk. He did that to fellow business women all the time. Just the fact that he didn’t put this lady on hold seemed like he had great respect for her—or was it fear?

  “Aunt Velia! How nice it is to hear your voice again.” Marv said. Then his expression fell and his lip twitched.

  Eventually, he cleared his throat. “Yes. It has been too long…You’re right. I should call you more…” Another long awkward pause ended with his saying, “Um…I need your expertise.” He winced, apparently being upbraided for only calling when he needed a favor.

  “I may be dealing with witches. And one of them owes me a lot of money.”

  Sal heard the loud sigh on the other end of the phone.

  “They attacked one of my guys.”

  A few moments later, Marv grabbed a piece of paper and pen. “Just tell me what to do.” He didn’t write a word. “You need to know what?” Marv scratched his head with the business end of the pen. Sal wasn’t sure if he should tell him he was drawing lightning bolts on his thinning scalp. “Sure. I understand. No! I’d never put you in
danger…You can count on me. I’ll put my best man on it.”

  Uh oh. That means me.

  Marv listened for a few more minutes, then assured his aunt of his love and hung up. He leaned toward Sal. “We need to find out what kind of witches we’re dealing with.”

  “Huh? There are different kinds?”

  He shrugged. “Apparently. Just shadow them—especially the girl, and write down anything unusual that you see. Like any rituals, if she meets with a group, how many, what they’re wearing and shit. My aunt said she can probably figure it out with the right details.”

  “Am I getting paid extra for this?”

  “If it helps me get my money back, you get paid. If not, we both suffer. In other words, don’t fail me.”

  Gulp.

  The coven was meeting outdoors this time. Apparently the hotel suite they usually used was occupied, but the group agreed on a private meadow surrounded by woods in the next town. Rebecca said they’d met there before.

  Dru brought his book, thinking he’d be able to read if there was a long wait. Fortunately, some were already there when they arrived. Hanna, Myranda, Yvonne, Celestia, and Ethan, all wearing their customary black clothing. Hanna had explained that their new high priestess Fayleen, would not be joining them and neither would Keith. He had a show that night, and some of the customers had specifically requested, “Cher.”

  Lana and Isabelle arrived shortly. They got out of their mini Cooper and were laughing about something until they spotted Shasta. Lana walked right over to her.

  “April?”

  Dru’s sister grinned. “Lana! You’re the hairdresser who made me blonde again.”

  They hugged.

  “I didn’t know you were a witch.” Lana remarked.

  “I didn’t know I was a witch either,” Shasta said and chuckled. “Oh, and apparently, my name is Shasta, not April.”

  “So you’re the one we’re helping recover her memory. I knew there was something ‘off’ when I was doing your hair, but Danielle—Mrs. Reese as you called her—told me if you said anything weird, and I quote, ‘Don’t go there.’”

  “I don’t know why she’d do that. I had amnesia, not Alzheimer’s.”

  Isabelle joined them. “It must be really weird not to remember who you are—where you came from—how you feel about…anything.”

  “It is, believe me. I hope this ritual y’all are doing for me helps.”

  “It should. The moon is still pretty full, even though it’s started to wane. Oh. That reminds me…I have to ask Hanna something.”

  Lana wandered over to Hanna, leaving Shasta with Dru and Isabelle. Rebecca was chatting with Yvonne.

  “Is Abigail coming?” someone asked.

  The crowd glanced around. “She said she’d be here,” Hanna said.

  Just then, the young witch in question pulled into the parking lot.

  “I’m here,” Abigail said, as she jumped out of the car. “Just had to make an entrance. Oh!” Abigail whirled toward the only person she didn’t recognize. “Who are you?”

  Hanna said, “Shasta here is the young woman whose memory we’re trying to recover tonight. I’m sure she’s nervous, so be nice. And her brother, Dru, only met you once.”

  “Oh, yeah. Hi, Dru.”

  Hanna blew out a long breath, then glanced around at the other members. “Okay. We have thirteen. Everyone gather around the altar.”

  “Us too?” Dru asked.

  “Yes,” Hanna said, kindly. “I was counting you and your sister as part of the thirteen.”

  Dru knew Hanna’s policy about not doing magic for other witches, but apparently that didn’t include witches that didn’t remember they were witches. He was very glad of that. He knew Shasta was a little apprehensive, but she assured him she wanted to go through with it.

  He made sure Hanna knew that some difficult memories might emerge. She assured him she’d word the spell carefully, so Shasta would only get back as much as she could handle.

  When everyone was in place, Yvonne swept and Myranda salted the intended circle. Then Hanna used her wand to cast the nearly invisible blue ring protecting them.

  They welcomed the guardians of the watchtowers and used the protection potion as Dru remembered from the previous ritual he’d witnessed. Shasta went along with what the others did, occasionally casting a glance at Dru. He just smiled and squeezed her hand. Ethan had a hold of his other hand and Rebecca was on the other side of Shasta.

  When the circle was cast and the participants protected, Hanna raised her face and hands to the sky. Her middle fingers touched their closest thumb on both hands.

  She shut her eyes and breathed deeply. Dru noticed that the entire area seemed to have quieted. No birds or squirrels moved in the woods. No traffic could be heard. There wasn’t even a wind to rustle the leaves.

  At last, Hanna said, “Goddess, we come to you tonight in humble supplication.” Her voice had a deeper, richer quality to it than usual. “One of our number has lost her precious memories, and we ask you to help her.” She slowly opened her eyes. “Step forward, Shasta.”

  Shasta dropped Dru’s hand and joined the high priestess in the center. Rebecca moved over and grasped Dru’s free hand so the ring was closed again. Hanna placed her left hand on his sister’s head.

  “Goddess, please bless our witch sister, Shasta. Help her regain her memories in whatever way is best for her and all involved. If it be for the good of most, so mote it be.”

  A quiet moment ticked by, then Shasta sucked in a deep breath. She stood ramrod straight with her eyes and her mouth wide open.

  Dru held his breath. When she didn’t relax and recover right away, Dru’s apprehension began to skyrocket. Rebecca squeezed his hand and held on tight. She must have sensed his wish to rush forward and tear his sister out of Hanna’s spell. Who knows what that would have done to her though. He just held onto Rebecca and Ethan and waited, anxiously.

  At last, Shasta quivered and dropped to her knees. Her mouth and eyes closed. A moment later, her face scrunched up and she began to cry.

  Dru broke out of Rebecca’s and Ethan’s grasps and rushed to Shasta. He kneeled in front of her and grasped her hands. Recognition definitely lit her eyes and she threw her arms around him. “Dru!”

  He held her tight and murmured words of comfort as she sobbed. By the time he thought she ought to be calming down, he was patting her back, but she was crying harder.

  “What is it, Shasta? What do you remember that’s making your cry?”

  “Momma’s gone,” she squeaked out. “And I’m flunkin’ school…”

  “It’s okay, honey. I’ll take care of everything. Just relax.”

  She leaned back and a look of horror washed over her. “How? How can you take care of—” A fresh batch of tears swamped her and she doubled over.

  He rubbed her back and tried to keep his voice gentle. “It’s all right. Everything will be all right.”

  She pounded the grass and yelled, “No. No, it won’t. Shasta’s life won’t be all right ever again.”

  Rebecca joined them, but there wasn’t much she could do either.

  “I don’t want to be Shasta. I want to be April.”

  Jesus Christ. What should I say? Dru felt completely over his head. He didn’t know if she’d remembered the rape, or if even more had happened to her that he didn’t know about. He just knew his sister was falling to pieces in front of his eyes, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  He looked to Hanna. “Can you take back some of those memories? Just give her the good ones for a while?”

  Hanna shook her head. “I had to let the Goddess decide what she could handle. Give her a few minutes to absorb it all.”

  It was all he could do to keep from shaking his fist at the sky. This wasn’t right. Wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t have had to go through it all at once like this. It was too much.

  Ethan’s voice broke through the cacophony. “She won’t die from bad memories, bro.
Trust me. Some of us live with horrible things.”

  Dru wasn’t comforted. But for some odd reason, Shasta seemed to resonate with his words. Her shaking and tears subsided. After a few deep breaths, she composed herself. She began to rise and Dru jumped up in order to help her.

  “I—I’m okay, Dru. Sorry about the outburst, everyone.”

  “Don’t worry,” Hanna said gently. “Everyone here is on your side.”

  Rebecca finally joined Dru in their bedroom. She had spent the better part of an hour talking with Shasta. She eventually did a guided meditation to relax the girl and wished her pleasant dreams. Shasta was asleep before Rebecca left the guest room.

  She undressed in the bathroom and crawled into bed quietly in case Dru was asleep.

  “What did she say?” he asked.

  I guess he’s awake. Rebecca flopped onto the bed next to him.

  He turned on the light, then gathered her into his arms and pulled her close. “Is she okay?”

  “I think so. She knows about the rape.”

  “Oh. I was afraid of that. Did anything else happen to her?”

  “Not that she mentioned. But, Dru, there’s something you should know, and try not to react badly.”

  “What’s that?”

  Rebecca sighed. “She wants to stay here.”

  “Well, that’s not gonna happen. She has school to finish.”

  “I—um…I might have mentioned the possibilities of finishing online or transferring to the adult learning state college we have here. The school is called Granite State College. It’s accredited, and she can use her past credits.”

  “You told her what?” he whispered loudly.

  “Shhh…That’s the reaction I was afraid of. Listen, she’s an adult, like it or not. It would be better for her to finish here than not at all, wouldn’t it?”

  He hesitated for so long, she wasn’t sure he was going to respond at all.

  At last, he said, “What about the rape? I thought she wanted to put the guy in jail.”

  “She’s really afraid to. I don’t know exactly why. She said she told her roommate to hang onto her panties, so she could deal with it when she got back. The roommate wouldn’t leave her alone about pressing charges. That’s why she dyed her hair black. To slip away unnoticed.”