The Witch's Handbook to Trapping Demons (Southern Single Mom Paranormal Mysteries Book 3)

by Amy Boyles

  The power of the witch must be stronger than the confines of this book? What did that mean?

  “Vordrid,” I called.

  My bedroom door opened, and the Magic 8 Ball drifted in. “Yes, Andie?”

  “I was reading a passage in this book, and I’m confused. So, for a demon, if we can’t get a church-sanctioned exorcism, the next best thing is to trap the demon. But the only way to do that is if the witch is more powerful than the handbook. What does that mean?”

  Vordrid settled on my bed. “From what I understand, that means the witch has to wield the power of the book without using the book.”

  I sank onto my pillow. “Ah, that elusive ability.”

  Months ago Vordrid had explained that all he wanted in life was to be free from having to be a mentor. The only way to free him was for me to be able call on the book’s magic without using the power directly, which I had no idea how to do, and neither did Vordrid. I’m pretty sure if he knew how to do it, then I’m guessing he would already be free from being a mentor.

  “Okay, Vordrid, so where do I need to look to find out how to do this?”

  Vordrid rolled back on his shell. “Andie, if I could tell you that, I’d be a millionaire. Not exactly. But I would certainly feel like one.”

  I closed the book and tapped a finger on the cover. Maybe the person Pam was sending could help. If they dealt in magical objects, they may have an inkling on exactly how to trap a demon or tap the power of the handbook.

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out.” I slid the tome onto my nightstand. “You sleeping in here, V?”

  “No. I’ve got some experiments to run on that ring.”

  I cocked a brow. “What sort?”

  “The sort I can’t tell you about until I know something. Though I thank you for asking.”

  I groaned. “Great.”

  I had a rough time falling asleep. Shattered glass filled my thoughts. When I finally did sleep, the image of a dark figure penetrated my brain. Crying drifted from Gabby’s crib. Yes, I still kept her in a crib. I liked to know where my two-year-old was at night.

  Anyway, Gabby’s wails filled the house. The walls shook and rattled; knickknacks fell to the floor. Crying of earthquake proportions filled every nook and cranny.

  I rushed into Gabby’s room to find a black figure hovering over her. When the figure turned to me, I couldn’t make out a face. But what I did see scared the living daylights out of me: a slow, unwinding smile—white against the black silhouette, stretched wide and curled around, as if it would never stop unraveling.

  The figure reached for Gabby. I screamed, lunging for him.

  I sat awake. Sweat dripped off my skin. My pillow was soaked. Daylight broke through my windows, and birds chirped. It was strange having such a real nightmare and then waking up and finding light peeking through my windows and happiness abounding outside.

  I got dressed. The smell of bacon wafted into my room. I went downstairs and found Dot cooking a deluxe country-style buffet replete with homemade biscuits, scrambled eggs, grits, sausage gravy and about 5000 calories that I didn’t need added to my waistline.

  My best friend, Kate McCall, bounced in from the living room. “Andie, you’re up.”

  Kate possessed a cloud of black hair, dazzling blue eyes, and a baby-making need like no one I had ever met in my entire life. Kate often wondered why she didn’t have a long-standing boyfriend. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that void in her life had to do with Kate whining about her biological clock. I mean, there are just some things you can’t say—even to your own bestie.

  “Kate, what are you doing here?” I said.

  Kate clapped her hands with glee. “Andie, I was looking in the spell book that your great-aunt gave me, and I found the most marvelous spell.”

  To be honest, I wasn’t exactly enthused to hear this. My great-aunt Dot had convinced Kate that she was a witch just like us. In fact, Dot had given Kate a spell book that was probably as old as time and 1000 percent worthless.

  I crossed to the fridge, pulled out a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce.

  I grabbed a cup from the cupboard and poured a steaming cup of coffee from the carafe. Then I squirted in a good-sized amount of chocolate and added enough whip to feed a village.

  “Tell me about this new spell, Kate,” I said.

  “I’m so glad you asked,” she said. “Okay, so when I was looking at the book, I found this amazing thing.”

  “What’s that?” Dot said.

  Kate’s gaze dragged from me to Dot and back. She pulsed her hands with excitement. “A spell that will help me find missing things.”

  I shot Dot a look of confusion. “Have you been missing things lately?”

  “No, I just thought it would be a good spell to learn. You know, in case we needed to find something.”

  “How do you do it?”

  Kate drummed her nails on the counter. “I’m so glad you asked. First, you picture the object of your desire in your mind.”

  “Sounds like you’re trying to catch a man, dear,” Dot said.

  Kate giggled. “I know, but I don’t think you can find men with it. I tried last night and none of them came to my door.”

  I clicked my tongue. “Doesn’t mean today’s not a new day. Okay, so what happens next?”

  Kate grinned. “Next you have to want the object so strongly that you can almost taste it.”

  “That sounds gross,” I said.

  Kate spoke to me. “Not that strongly. Okay, and then after you focus on it, supposedly you will find the item.”

  I frowned. “How do I find it?”

  “Well, it will obviously come to you,” Dot said. “I’m not a brain surgeon, dear, but even I can figure that out.”

  I blew steam off my drink. “So all you have to do is focus and the object will show up?”

  Kate smacked her lips in victory. “Yep. I plan to keep trying.”

  I slurped down a mouthful of mocha. “Sounds good. I’ll keep that in mind. But I do think you should try it on a man. See if one shows up.”

  Kate snapped her fingers. “Great idea. I’m on it.”

  With that she proceeded to close her eyes and concentrate.

  My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. A number I didn’t recognize flashed. I pressed the button to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes, is this Andie?”

  “It is.”

  “Andie, it’s Pam. You remember, from the supernatural tribunal?”

  How could I forget Pert Pam? “Of course.”

  “Listen, I know it’s Sunday, but I’ve got an investigator ready to go. What time can we meet and where?”

  “Let me call the sheriff and I’ll get back to you.”

  I thumbed off the phone and called Terry. He answered as if I’d woken him from a sound sleep. “Yello?” It was sort of a combination of hello and yeah.

  “It’s Andie Taylor. I spoke to our supernatural group, and they’ve got someone who can come in today and inspect the body. When and where do you want to meet?”

  He quoted an hour at a local funeral parlor—Rick’s Rideout. Yep. That’s correct. Ride-out, as in on to the next life.

  Creepy, huh?

  I called Pam and told her and proceeded to get ready. I showered, brushed my teeth and called Stone. Guilt tugged at me. I wanted to call Dex first, but it was daylight and he’d be asleep. And the sun would kill him.

  So you know, I had to have some priorities.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey, everything okay?”

  His voice sent my stomach quivering. I swallowed down my feelings for him. “Yeah. Listen, I’m meeting members of the supernatural tribunal in a few minutes. I think you should be there.”

  “Tell me where and I’ll be there in less than a minute.”

  I laughed at his flying joke. As an angel, Stone could fly fast. Like fast enough to make you sick—which it did to me.

  “We have a l
ittle more time than sixty seconds, but there’s something else I need to tell you.”

  “What’s that?”

  I relayed what Vordrid had told me about the demon. I didn’t reveal the nightmare I’d endured about Gabby. That was a bit too much, more a mother’s fear than any sort of fact.

  Stone was quiet for a minute. “You think it wants Gabby.”

  “I didn’t say that. I never said that. I’m not even thinking that.”

  “You’re thinking that; I can tell.”

  “What would make you even suggest such a thing?”

  I could almost hear him smiling over the phone. “I know you well enough, is all. Don’t worry. We’re all here watching her.”

  “Okay, thanks. Anyway, I’ll see you in a few.”

  We hung up. Sometimes that guy’s intuition startled me. He could seriously pinpoint what was going on in my brain.

  Crazy weird.

  I finished getting ready and grabbed a mocha to go from the kitchen. Kate was still in there, concentrating on finding the man missing from her life.

  “Hey, want to come look at a dead body?” I said.

  She scowled. “Andie, I’m not trying to find dead bodies. I’m trying to find other things.”

  “Like what?”

  “My favorite pair of shorts that disappeared several months ago.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t mention that I was the culprit of the shorts. I’d “borrowed” them over the summer and forgot to return them. “Come on, I know you’re trying to conjure a man.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “So are you coming?”

  Kate snatched up her purse. “Why not?”

  “Andie,” Dot said.

  “Yes?”

  “Can you bring back a bucket of fried chicken for lunch? I have a hankering for some chicken.”

  “You got it. Would you like anything else?”

  Dot wobbled her head. “No. I think that will be sufficient.”

  I found Gabby and gave her a quick hug, searching her over to make sure no demons were attached. None were. “Let’s roll,” I said to Kate.

  We reached Rick’s Rideout as a silver Audi that probably cost two years of my salary slid into a front parking spot.

  “Who’s that?” Kate said in a hushed whisper.

  “The big guns—the supernatural tribunal. Yesterday she showed up at Dex’s house with magic. Today she’s driving.”

  “I don’t think they drove,” Kate said. “I think they still used magic.”

  I frowned. “What makes you say that?”

  “’Cause that car just plain looks magical.”

  I barked a laugh. The driver’s door opened, and a bald man wearing dark sunglasses and business-casual clothes slid out from the vehicle. He glanced over and nodded to us.

  “Wow,” Kate said.

  “Wow?” I said.

  She nodded. “Isn’t he dreamy?”

  Bald guy? “Sure. Come on.”

  Pam popped out from the passenger side. “You tell Dex that I’m mad at him that he didn’t come.”

  “It’s daylight. It’ll kill him,” I said.

  She waved a manicured hand at me. “I mean, I’m just kidding.” She pouted. “But you tell him anyway.”

  “Okay.”

  Pam pointed to the man that Kate was practically drooling over. “This is Ron Diablo.”

  “Ron Devil?” I said.

  He fit his glasses on top of his head and said, “Because I’m an expert in the demonic.”

  “Oh.” Was it coincidence that he was here? Or did Pam call him in specifically? I studied Pam, all hair spray and makeup, trying to figure her out. I couldn’t decide if she was smarter than she looked or simply stupidly lucky.

  “Nice to meet you, Ron,” I said.

  Kate came around. Ron smiled at her. Like, really smiled. Kate hid the beam on her face pretty well.

  “My name’s Ron,” he said.

  “I’m Kate.”

  “What a pleasure to meet you.”

  She giggled.

  Well, there you have it. Love at first sight.

  Stone and Sheriff Terry rolled up a few minutes later, and we went inside. The funeral director, a tall, thin man with small, indistinct features, led us to the basement.

  It smelled of chemicals. Weatherby’s body lay on a table. I wasn’t keen on getting close to it, so I stayed back.

  Sheriff Terry raised his hands. “I’ll let y’all do your thing. We haven’t a clue how this man died, but I’m holding a woman—said she’s a fairy—only because she was standing right beside him when some sort of flash occurred and he dropped dead. And let me tell you, I’ve been taking some heat for it from your community.”

  I thought I heard an edge to his voice. “And what about the humans? What do they say?”

  Terry thumbed the loops of his jeans. “They say I should lock all of y’all up.”

  I swallowed. “That’s not good.”

  “No, it ain’t good at all. I’m just trying to figure out how this man died. I’m not trying to have a war between two communities.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” I mumbled.

  “Quiet please,” Ron said. “I need absolute silence for this part of the process.”

  I gestured that I was zipping my lips. Ron Diablo, if that was his real name—I’m joking, I’m sure it was his real name; I just always wanted to say that—Ron whipped back the sheet covering Weatherby. He placed his head by Weatherby’s and started sniffing his way around the body.

  Yes, you heard me correctly—he used his sense of smell to investigate Weatherby.

  Ugh.

  Ron worked his way down to the feet and back up, stopping where the ring had been. When he reached the top of Weatherby’s head, he paused, and then cycled around one more time.

  Pam shot me a smile of victory. “He’s the best. Absolutely the best.”

  “I don’t know what all that doohickeying was about,” Terry said. “But what’s your verdict, doc? What happened to this man?”

  Ron pulled out his phone and took a picture of Weatherby’s face. He tapped a few buttons and after several seconds said, “This man was named Rufus Weatherby.”

  My eyes widened. “He was?”

  Ron nodded. “Yes. And he died a week ago.”

  Ron threaded his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. A loud pop filled the silence. He then blew a shot of air from his nose.

  “This man had a piece of jewelry on his hand that I need to inspect before I say anything else.”

  I fished the ring from my pocket and handed it to him. “You mean this?”

  Ron took the ring and wedged it back on the finger I’d nabbed it from. He took a big, strong whiff. He then backed away from the table, almost a little nervous. His gaze darted around the room. He fisted one hand into the palm of the other.

  “After Rufus Weatherby died, his body was partly inhabited by a spirit. But only in part. The other half of the spirit lay in this ring. The spirit split itself because if the entire entity had taken over Weatherby’s body at once, the body would have disintegrated.”

  Ron took a deep breath. “This man wasn’t murdered.”

  “Well that’s a relief,” Terry said. “So how’d he die?”

  Ron cleared his throat. Kate grabbed my arm as if Ron’s throat clearing was enough to send her into a tizzy of romantic love.

  “The spirit placed a timed curse on the ring. When the spell released, the magic forced the two halves of the spirit back together, essentially killing Weatherby’s body for a second time. The force of the spell cracked the ring open.”

  “So it wasn’t a murder,” Terry said.

  “Right,” Ron said.

  “That’s all I need to know. I’ll see you folks later.” Terry excused himself and disappeared up the stairs.

  When he was gone, Ron turned to us. “But I’m afraid what we’re dealing with is much worse.”

  “A demon,” I said.

&
nbsp; Ron nodded. “You know.”

  “I was visited by it last night.”

  Ron grimaced. “This isn’t good. Whatever the demon is planning means he needs to be back in a spirit body, not a human one.”

  “Why not just come to us as a spirit in the first place?” Stone said.

  Ron shrugged. “Could be that he needed a physical body for some purpose. Could be the spirit likes possessing dead vessels. It’s impossible to know.”

  “Great,” I said sarcastically.

  “And it’s worse,” Ron said.

  “How could it be worse?” I said.

  Ron’s eyes flashed with what I can only describe as fear. “Because in his demonic form the spirit is much more powerful. Over the next few days he will gain strength—and from the sense I got of his body, there’s something very particular he wants.”

  “What’s that?” Kate said.

  I looked at Stone, a knot of worry tying up not only my stomach, but I’m pretty sure my ovaries as well. The angel took my hand and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

  Ron grimaced. “The children of this town.”

  SIX

  The five of us decided we needed a better place to talk, so we went back to my house. When we arrived, I filled Dot and Vordrid in on what we’d discovered. I also told Ron about the demon visiting the night before.

  “Where was the demon when he appeared in the house?” Ron said.

  I showed him the window it had broken through.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Stone said.

  I rubbed my arms. “I don’t know. I felt safe. I mean, the creature left.”

  Ron inspected the window, going over it with his nose like he had the body. The specialist moved slowly, sniffing deeply. “It wants you to know that he’s here. That’s why it broke the window. He’s toying with you. Enjoys this.”

  Stone crossed to the window. “I’m an angel, sent to protect the child. With me here, the demon shouldn’t act.”

  Ron shook his head. “In my days as a hunter—”

  “You were a hunter?” I interrupted.

  “Yes. Not for very long, but I was one. Since I have a unique connection to the demonic, that’s what I hunted. I belonged to a covert unit. The rest of the hunters weren’t supposed to know about us.”

  “Makes sense since I’ve never heard of you,” I said.