Shadow Witch Rising (Copper Falls Book 1)

by Colleen Vanderlinden

  Layla smiled. “Well. Maybe she had a gigantic ego and couldn't take the fact that he even dared to look at someone else. Or maybe theirs was such a passionate, intense relationship that it was destined to end the same way.”

  Sophie screwed up her face. “You read too many romance novels. Really, how intense could it have been? They didn't even speak the same language, most likely.”

  “I don't think the words said are what makes an affair passionate, if you know what I mean,” Layla said with a wink.

  “Back to the actual problem, though,” Cara said, taking her usual role of bringing them back into focus. “You need to learn about the curse. The sooner you get this done, the better.”

  “If I can even do it at all,” Sophie said. “So far, what we know is that she was Ojibwa. Maybe if I can learn something about her, it'll lead me to the curse, or to learning more about her powers, or something like that. I don't know where else to start.”

  Layla nodded.

  “I'll check the library for any books, but I know that won't likely help with this,” Sophie said, thinking. Then a thought struck her. “Do you guys remember Mrs. Redleaf?”

  “From sixth grade?” Cara asked.

  Sophie nodded, feeling more excited. “Remember her? She was Ojibwa, and she was a total history buff. Remember how she used to tell us those stories from her tribe, or how she'd piss off all the little white kids and their parents by pointing out all of the ways white people messed with her people?”

  Layla laughed. “I remember that!”

  “She lived on the reservation back then,” Sophie said. “She can't be that old. She could still be around, right?”

  Cara nodded.

  “It's a start. I'll head out there and ask around. Even if she's not there anymore, maybe there's someone they can point me to who knows the history of the local Ojibwa. I'm half expecting to find out that Calder was full of crap and she wasn't involved, somehow.”

  “You're hoping, you mean,” Layla said.

  “Yeah, I'm hoping,” Sophie admitted, taking a sip of her smoothie. “One of my people wouldn't have done this crap. It goes against every single thing we believe in. Lightwitches don't curse people. I think he's wrong.”

  “Well, girl, for your sake, I hope you're right,” Cara said. They finished up, and Sophie made her way to her car, thoughts on when she'd find time to get out to the reservation. Better that it was sooner rather than later.

  Calder ran, letting his bear, his beast, run off some of the excess energy and tension he was dealing with. He'd stuffed himself, buying and then devouring three sausage pizzas, following it up with a two-liter of Coke. It wasn't enough. It never was.

  And none of it was what he wanted.

  So he ran.

  Sophie. Her name filled his mind, just as her scent seemed to be everywhere. The sight of her, bent over, her round ass presented perfectly for him, had nearly been his undoing at Bryce's studio. The way she'd turned at the sound he'd made, not even realizing he'd made it, the look of awareness in her eyes, the way she'd flushed a gorgeous shade of pink at the meeting of their eyes… shit.

  So he'd left as quickly as he could, because the temptation to drag her away with him and make her beg, make her scream his name, was almost impossible to resist. And now, all he could do was run, let his beast run free, let it experience freedom. He, it, raced through the forest, powerful legs launching him through the dense trees, out of breath, heart pounding, muscles tiring, but unable to stop, because if he stopped, he'd have to feel it again. Exhaustion was his only savior, his only distraction from the never-ending hunger that was his life.

  As he ran, he focused on not thinking. Not about her and her perfect ass. Not about his father and his insanity. Not about his brother and the way he'd been saddled with a life that left no room for actually living. And sure the hell not about himself and the way he could feel the curse strengthening every single day.

  If he thought about that, he'd want to hurt somebody. And that would not go well for anyone.

  Chapter Eight

  Sophie decided not to waste any time. If she was going to figure this out, or prove to Calder that he was completely and totally wrong, she had to get going. She worked a short shift at the resort, then double-checked her map on her phone and headed down the highway, toward the Ojibwa reservation outside of town.

  Finding the reservation wasn't hard. She'd passed it several times during the drives she sometimes took when she needed to clear her head. She drove the winding road through the woods, and when it wound its way along the coast of Lake Superior, she snuck several glances out at the sparkling water. The sun was shining, early autumn's low-slanting rays giving the canopy of leaves along the side of the road an almost stained glass effect. She drove with the windows open, the radio off. She watched the rearview mirror as well, years of habit ensuring it was something she never forgot to do.

  Every time her thoughts went to Calder, she forced them aside. It was unnatural, really, how drawn she was to him. Maybe it was part of the curse? She dismissed the thought almost as soon as she'd had it. She knew better. There was nothing magical about the way she felt toward Calder. He was everything she'd ever imagined she'd want the man in her life to be: strong, handsome, with a sense of humor and a strong protective streak. The boy she'd known had grown into the single most mouthwatering specimen of manliness she'd ever seen.

  Of course, he was also a monster. Which was pretty much her luck, so at least her life was consistent.

  And he was determined to stay away from her. She had to admit that between the two of them, he was the only one acting with any kind of sense at all. He stayed on his side of the road, avoided her completely, and the whole time, she had to find ways to stay busy so she didn't wander across the road. To do what, she didn't know. Stare at him? Drool over the sight of his shoulders and forearms? It was stupid. And the even dumber thing was that even though he scared the living hell out of her, she kept remembering that night at Jack's, when she'd felt, of all things, safe. She'd felt safe. And if that wasn't insane, especially given what he'd told her about his curse, then she didn't know what was. The only thing she knew was that, when she really thought about it, he was the first and only thing she'd ever wanted, just for her. He wasn't something she needed. He wasn't something forced on her. He wasn't something she was forced to settle on because it kept her safe. In fact, he was pretty much the opposite of that in every way.

  She just knew that when she looked at him, hard as she tried to fight it, the first word that came to mind was “mine.”

  And that was wrong, but it felt so damn right.

  She shook her head as she maneuvered her car onto the dirt road that led into the reservation. A wooden sign at the side of the road welcomed friends and visitors to the home of the Keweenaw Community.

  The reservation looked mostly like a small subdivision of modern houses. There was a long, low building near the center of the reservation, with a simple sign reading “meeting hall” near the front walk. Sophie brought the truck to a stop, parked it in front of the building. There were a few other cars around, and in the nearby playground, she could hear children calling to each other. She put the handles of her bag over her shoulder and headed up the walk, then the low concrete steps that led into the meeting hall.

  When she opened the door, a small bell dinged. She looked around. There ware chairs, upholstered in a cheery orange fabric. Many houseplants. There was a counter in front of her, and to the left she could see a hallway that led to other parts of the building. She approached the counter, looking around. A few moments later, she heard someone call, “be there in a second,” from one of what she guessed were offices behind the counter. Within a few seconds, she spied a woman making her way toward the counter. She was short, compact. Her long white hair was braided in a long rope over her shoulder, and she wore jeans and a warm-looking gray wool sweater. She greeted Sophie with a smile, and Sophie recognized her.

  “Can I
help you?” she asked, and her warm tone put Sophie immediately at ease.

  “Hi. I'm Sophie. I have what might be an odd request,” she said.

  The woman smiled again. “It wouldn't be the first. What do you need, Sophie?”

  “I don't know if you remember me or not. You were my teacher in fifth and sixth grade.”

  Mrs. Redleaf studied her, then smiled. “Sophie Turner?”

  Sophie grinned, and the woman came around the counter with a smile, folded her into a warm hug.

  “Look at you, home again! You and the Marlier twins were so much trouble sometimes,” she said with a laugh.

  “We still are!” Sophie said, and Mrs. Redleaf laughed again.

  “Wow. It is wonderful to see you again. You've grown into a beautiful woman,” Mrs. Redleaf said, and Sophie blushed a little, nodded her thanks. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, Mrs. Redleaf—“

  “Thea, kiddo. You can call me Thea.”

  “Thea, then,” Sophie said with a smile. “There's this story I heard about a woman who was supposed to be an ancestor of mine, and I know you were always a history buff, especially of tribal history.”

  Thea nodded. “Yes, indeed. Was she from around here?”

  “Supposedly,” Sophie said with a shrug. “I hadn't heard about her until a few days ago, and I don't quite even believe the person who told me the story was right.”

  “Well, we'll find out. This will be fun! Who was your ancestor? To be honest, you look like you may have some of the first people in you. I thought so when you were a little girl, too,” Thea said, studying Sophie closely.

  “My ancestor was named Migisi, according to what I've heard.”

  A look of shock spread over Thea's face, and she quickly schooled it into a neutral expression, but not before Sophie noticed it. “Migisi?”

  “Yes. My aunt Evie lived at my cottage before me, and generations of my family before her, and supposedly, Migisi was the first one who lived there.”

  Thea shook her head. “I've never heard of Evie. I don't get into town much, though.” She paused, looked unsure. “Migisi, you say?”

  “You know her name?”

  She smiled. “We all do, kiddo.”

  “How?”

  “She has long been known among our people as Nimaamaa, or the mother. She was our tribe's first and greatest medicine woman. She healed. She healed,” she repeated, closing her eyes. “Migisi's own.”

  “At least, I think I am. My understanding of our family isn't great. I inherited the cottage and land from Evie, and she said that land has been in our family since the early 1800s.”

  Thea nodded slowly. “That would have been when Migisi lived there.” A look crossed her face, and she looked uncertain.

  “What is it?” Sophie asked.

  “My dear, are you sure you want to start digging?”

  A cold prickle went down Sophie's spine. “I kind of have to,” she said softly. “Why?”

  “Migisi was known as Nimaamaa. That is how we choose to remember her, because she deserves to be honored that way. But it is not all she is remembered as.”

  I don't want to know, Sophie thought to herself. “What else?” she forced herself to ask.

  “She was also known as Ninishkaadiz.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “More commonly, 'the Mad,' she answered, looking away from Sophie. “We try not to call her that. But if you start digging into this, it will come up.”

  Sophie stared at the woman. “That's not entirely unsurprising. I've heard things that would indicate that she wasn't right.” That would be putting it mildly, she thought to herself, thinking of Calder. “I need to know. It's important. I know this is a weird request, but would you help me? Would you tell me what you can about her? Or could you point me to someone else who can?”

  Thea studied her. “I will help you. I need you to answer a question for me.”

  Sophie stilled, watched her. “Yes?”

  “Do you take after her?”

  Sophie stayed silent. “I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” she said softly.

  “I think you do. Do you take after the mother or the mad one?”

  “What do you know of it?”

  “I know enough to know life is more than those things we can see, more than those things that can easily be explained away. If we are going to begin digging, I need you to trust me. And I need you to be honest with me.”

  Sophie stayed silent for several long moments, then took a breath. “I am not mad,” she finally said.

  Thea took her hand. “Neither was she. That is not who she was, or what she was. Whatever happened later, it wasn't her.”

  Sophie squeezed her hand in thanks, for some reason, more touched by the woman's words than she could understand. “Could she speak French, do you think?” she asked, remembering the conversation she'd had with the twins, and the language barrier.

  “She spoke it well, by all accounts,” Thea said. “English as well, in addition to our own language.” Then she smiled. “Knowing that Nimaamaa spoke French was the reason I learned it in the first place. I chose it as my required language in college, though I don't remember much.” Her face softened. “Know that no matter what else she was, she is one of our most beloved ancestors. Whatever happened to her later… it doesn't undo the amazing things she did for us.”

  Sophie took a deep breath, nodded. “Is there anything I can do to repay you? I don't know how much time this is going to take, or—” she began.

  Thea waved it off. “It is my pleasure to help you. We will look through our archives. I know there are articles and other items of interest about her.”

  “That would be a huge help. Thank you so much.”

  “And if you can shed any light on what I know, or you find out anything in your research, I can add it to our archives,” Thea said.

  Sophie smiled. “I think that's a great idea. We can do that.”

  Thea held out her hand, and they shook on it.

  “When can we start?” Sophie asked.

  Thea glanced at the clock behind the counter. “I have a youth meeting I need to attend in a few minutes. It won't take more than a half hour or so for my part. If you wouldn't mind sticking around, we can get to work right after. Most of those old files are in storage in one of the back offices here, and you can help me dig them out.”

  “Thanks so much. That sounds great,” Sophie said. She watched as Thea shut down computers, turned off lights, and checked windows. Then she followed her former teacher out of the building, and toward another building. “This is the youth center. Mostly, it's a large gymnasium where they can play basketball and run off some of their energy when it's cold out,” Thea explained. “There are a couple of small meeting rooms here for study groups and our youth group.”

  “What does the youth group do?” Sophie asked.

  “Mainly, they talk,” Thea said, shrugging a little. “They meet weekly, and they talk to each other about school or their families. It's part friendly gathering, part support group, I guess. This group has been meeting like this since they were very young. I'm going today because sometimes they have speakers come in, and they want me to tell them what I know about getting into college. I've been helping our young people with the admissions and financial aid process for years,” she added.

  Sophie smiled. “Would have been nice to have had someone like you around when I was a teenager,” she said.

  “Where did you end up moving to?”

  “Just outside of Detroit. I lived there until nearly two years ago.”

  Thea nodded. “It must have been an adjustment.”

  “It was. I was homesick for this place for years. So when I had a chance to move back, I grabbed it.”

  “And was that difficult after so long away?” Thea asked, glancing at her, maybe picking up something in her tone.

  “Actually, it was exactly what I needed. I feel like I belong here.”

  They
entered a small room, and for the next forty-five minutes she listened to Thea field questions about applying for college and getting financial aid. She had a genuine rapport with the teenagers, and Sophie thought, again, how great it would have been to have had someone like that around at that age.

  When her part of the meeting was done, the teens thanked Thea, and the two of them left, the sounds of the group discussing the next item on the agenda behind them.

  “Such good kids,” Thea said. “Really, most of them could go to their parents and ask the same questions. This group, though,” she said with a smile. “They believe in making things happen for themselves. They want to learn something, they bring someone in. It makes it fair, so that those who don't have a family member they can go to have the opportunity as well. The kids in that room are going to make all of us proud. I can tell,” she finished, and Sophie smiled.

  “They're much more driven than I was at that age,” Sophie said, and Thea laughed.

  “Kiddo, they're more driven than most adults I know, period,” she said, and Sophie nodded. “We can go back to the meeting house. I have a frozen pizza there we can heat up so we can eat first.”

  “Oh! I didn't even think — we can do this another time, really.”

  Thea waved it off. “Not a chance. I am dying to dive into the archives and see what we can find for you.”

  Thea let them into the meeting house, and through the offices toward the rear of the building, where there was a small kitchen. “We use this for some of our community dinners. Also when someone's sick, usually a group will get together here and cook a few meals for them.”

  “It sounds nice,” Sophie said, sitting at the long table in the center of the room. She watched as Thea set the oven and pulled a disk out of the freezer. She'd expected to see a boxed frozen pizza like you get at the grocery store, but this was obviously something homemade. It was wrapped in cling wrap, with parchment paper beneath it.

  “You clearly know how to do frozen pizza better than I do,” Sophie commented, and Thea grinned.