by J. E. Cluney
“The longer I spend here, the more I learn. Allison has shown me how I came to be here. From what I’ve tried to understand, it seems when she destroyed the monster I’d become, she set my spirit free. But perhaps her banshee side took me in. As to why, I do not know,” Walter shared his odd thoughts on the situation.
My banshee claimed him in some weird way? I guess that would make him being in my void a little more understandable. But I didn’t recall anything like that.
“Mr Murphy, do you remember how you came to be a wendigo?” Mr Brady asked, but I knew he was pondering on Walter’s ideas for this.
“No, but I heard what you said about my father. He was a delusional man, so it’s quite possible. However, I do not remember what happened,” Walter said, standing tall and speaking extremely clearly. So proper and old-fashioned. It was strangely nice.
“Do you mean Miss Smoak harm?” Mr Brady moved onto another question.
“No, I do not. I’m still trying to understand what is going on to be completely honest with you. I know I’m dead. I have no physical body. But I have not moved onto the next stage. I put this down to Miss Smoak’s banshee powers holding me here.”
“Can she release you?”
“I cannot say. Like I said, I know little more than you do.”
“Will you allow me to try to withdraw you from her void and free you then?” Mr Brady asked as he stepped forward, forcing me to move with him as I was still holding his hand. I worried that if I released him, he may get sucked back out.
“You do what you have to do,” Walter said, but his expression was sad as he turned to me. “Allison, I am truly sorry for everything. I have committed the greatest of sins in taking lives, but I do not remember doing such things. It goes against all that I stand for as a healer. If I could take it all back, I would, in a heartbeat,” he said, the raw pain and anguish evident in his tone. I could feel it flooding through the void too. The mere thought that he’d committed such crimes killed him inside.
“It seems that what we know of wendigos may not be completely true. I’ve not heard of a created wendigo until now,” Mr Brady chose his words carefully. “Now, let me see what I can do.”
I moved with Mr Brady, watching silently as his hand glowed and he moved it over Walter’s body, who stood completely still. He was a sweet man, if I tried to forget about the whole wendigo thing.
Except I couldn’t.
And I hated that my whole being wasn’t reacting the same way my mind was. My mind said he was still bad, that he had still been a monster.
But my banshee didn’t react to him the way it did to the wendigo. She didn’t deem him a threat at all. Her odd whispers had told me the monster side of him was dead. But that didn’t mean I could forgive him.
I’d grown up an orphan because of him.
“You are a form of spirit, a mere fragment of who you once were,” Mr Brady concluded. “I’m hoping my magic can extract you from this void and release you to the next step in your journey.”
“Are you sure it’ll work?” I asked softly, a tinge of fear niggling inside me.
What if pulling him from my void brought the wendigo back somehow?
“Like I said, he’s a spirit now. Without a vessel to hold him, he will move on,” Mr Brady said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
I knew I should trust him, but I was uneasy.
“Can’t he possess someone else?” I asked, a small pang of guilt hitting me for talking about him when he was right in front of us.
“No,” they both answered in unison.
“Spirits can’t possess others without prior requirements. Spells being cast, vessels allowing them in. If they could, we’d have a serious problem with all of the psychics in this world.”
I nodded, relieved by this. Good.
Mr Brady reached out for Walter’s hand, and the unique warlock took his hand, sighing as he looked at us.
“I always wanted to know what awaited me on the other side,” he managed a soft smile. “I never did believe in heaven and hell, but at times like this, you truly wonder.”
My chest tightened at his slightly off-put expression. He was putting on a brave face.
“Let’s go,” Mr Brady murmured as he turned to me, his entire body glowing softly.
I nodded, closing my eyes and withdrawing from my void.
I sat in Marcus’ arms still, with Mr Brady beside me.
“Did it work?” I asked instantly, but Mr Brady was frowning.
“I’m not sure, I didn’t feel him come along, not quite,” he said, his jaw clenching.
“What’s that mean?” Lucas asked, delving into my mind to learn what had happened. “You tried to pull him out?”
“Yes, I was fairly sure my magic could do it, but I feel like he only came halfway. He’s being held back,” Mr Brady murmured as he held a glowing hand in front of my forehead. “I fear your banshee side is holding him prisoner in your void for safety. He poses no threat to you though. I know that for a fact. Upon examination, he has magic within him still, but it’s nothing compared to the magic of your banshee. This whole thing is baffling.”
“So he’s stuck in there still?” Marcus was stunned at this.
“I don’t think I can remove him. I’m not even sure if Allison can. Allison has accepted her banshee side, but from being within her void, it still has a slight mind of its own, especially in the safeguard of Allison herself,” Mr Brady tried to explain.
It was making no sense to me at all.
“What time is it?” I asked Lucas, who frowned and checked his phone.
“Eight,” he stated, arching a questioning brow at me.
“Look, I don’t know what any of this means, and sure, it’s weird, but like Mr Brady says, he poses no threat, and I have work,” I stated as I climbed off of Marcus’ lap.
I couldn’t believe myself to be honest, but I’d been through some shit since I’d moved here, and having some spirit taking up residence in my void? That was just another thing to add to the crazy list.
And I was starting to get used to this crazy.
“Are you nuts?” Lucas asked bluntly.
“Lucas, there’s nothing more that can be done by us. Allison has to figure this one out herself, and to be honest, I’m not sure if even she can,” Mr Brady stated.
“Great, our mate is infected with a ghost,” Lucas groaned.
“He’s not dangerous, I’m positive of that fact,” his father reassured him.
“It’s still the wendigo,” Marcus snapped.
“Was,” I murmured. He wasn’t that monster anymore.
Honestly, I was so done with shit always hitting the fan for me. If it wasn’t one thing, it was something else, and right now, I wanted to finish my goddamn shower and go to work and pretend everything was okay.
So that’s exactly what I did, shocking my two guys before they began hounding Mr Brady, all the while making sure to keep butting into my head.
I really needed to figure out how to block them out easily, because right now, they could hit my mental wall, but if they wanted in, they’d bulldoze through it with ease.
My mind was kept occupied when I entered work, since their magical treats were now in stock. And we had a lot of customers coming in to support the big day, since Henry had put out flyers, gotten onto the Maple Grove radio, and stuck up posters at the University. He’d even gone into the surrounding towns to stick up flyers (flyers that only supes could read, non-supes just saw a garbage flyer that they wouldn’t respond to), and I was grateful Gina had ordered extras of everything to keep us going.
I was making coffee after coffee, awing at the magical treats and loving the response that many customers had. A lot of them knew of Heather’s treats, and a lot of children came in for the burping bubblegum cookies. They had to go outside, but every time they burped, rainbow bubbles would shoot out of their mouths. It was always a hit with young boys especially. Whereas the girls loved the unique ice-cream flavored cupcakes t
hat gave you different colored eyes and lips that lasted about an hour. We had girls with bright pink eyes and lips, others who had witchy green, and some that got lucky with the rainbow ones.
Adults went for more of the standard stuff, the mood uplifting treats, the melting caramel brownies, the roast savory muffins that actually tasted like a whole roast meal. Others got the wake-up coffee biscuits alongside their coffees, which added an insane boost to their normal coffee and rejuvenated them.
I spent my spare moments reading the cards that accompanied the treats, learning just what it was we had on offer, and making a mental list of all the ones I wanted to try.
By the time I finally had my lunch, we’d run out of a fair few things, and Gina was ecstatic, hoping this stream of customers lasted for a few weeks. She’d keep changing up her orders with Heather, finding what sold the best and keeping them as the main selection, while bringing in specialties and rotating them each week or even daily depending on what worked.
I sat down with my roast chicken muffin, curiosity winning out as I examined the plain looking muffin.
It smelt amazing though.
I felt him enter before I saw him, and I knew he was on edge.
“You spoke to the others then?” I asked as Skip plopped down in the booth beside me.
“Is it true?” he asked, but he already had the answer.
“It is what it is,” I shrugged.
I’d spent time thinking about it as I worked. If I focused, I could feel Walter in my void.
And I was beginning to accept that I couldn’t blame him for everything. He was turned into a monster and used. After that, his actions were fueled by hunger and greed, but not his own.
Of the creature he’d become.
It was a little saddening actually, especially when I thought of how distraught he’d felt when he’d learned that.
I wondered what he was doing inside my void. He’d said he could see out sometimes, so I hoped he wasn’t bored.
“You are so fucking weird sometimes,” Skip said, but his soft smile assured me he meant no harm. “You’re too sweet. You’re seriously worried that the ghost hiding out inside you might be bored,” he snorted as he said it out loud.
I grinned as I shook my head. Putting it like that, it was weird.
“They said he was a healer. I had a look in your mind too, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy,” Skip said honestly. He knew I didn’t find Walter a threat. After all, he could feel my emotions and feelings if he chose to.
“How are they handling it?” I asked.
I’d kept myself closed off, not wanting to hear or feel their worries and stresses, not reaching out and prying into their minds while I was at work.
“Lucas and Marcus are trying to figure out how to fix it, but Mr Brady said there isn’t really a way. They’re stubborn though. As for Ollie, once he knew you were okay, he wasn’t too bad. A little weirded out by it, but okay. He’s at his granddad’s now, working the horses,” Skip said as he slid a hand around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.
I drew in his musky scent, relaxing against him as I took a bite of my muffin.
I nearly moaned out loud as the marinated roast chicken exploded in my mouth, mixed with roast pumpkin, potato, and carrots, with a side of steamed peas.
“You got one of those magic ones, didn’t you?” Skip chuckled, taking delight in my joy.
I just nodded as I took another bite, utterly hooked on the unique, magical muffin.
“Seriously though, what should we do about Walter?” Skip asked when I finally swallowed.
“I don’t think I can do anything. I’ll talk to him after work,” I said. That was the best I could offer.
“You’ll talk to him?” Skip said, unamused with the thought.
“Got any other ideas? Mr Brady had nothing. The boys got anything?” I asked as I took another bite.
The frustrated expression I was met with proved that I was right. This was just what it was.
I finished off my muffin in another two hefty bites before taking a sip of water from my bottle.
At least I wasn’t being hunted.
And I trusted my banshee side. She knew what she was doing.
I’d figure this out.
“If you’re sure,” Skip sighed, giving my shoulder a squeeze before giving me a kiss on the cheek.
I sighed, turning to catch his lips instead.
Skip was more than happy to give me a kiss, his lips softly moving against mine. His tongue stroked my lower lip, but I broke away to give him a cheeky smile.
“I have to get back to work,” I sighed.
‘We could do something quickly?’ he suggested slyly, his voice low and husky in my mind.
He was terrible, so easily turned on.
Not that I was complaining.
‘You mean, something like this?’ I said innocently, pushing images of us hot and heavy out the back of the shop, with him holding me against the back of the building as he had his way with me.
I felt his arousal instantly, and I chuckled as I stood up and blew him a kiss.
‘You’re so cruel,’ Skip groaned as that heated gaze followed me back around the counter. I would’ve loved to have had my way with him, but I still had a few hours of work to kill. Along with dinner tonight.
I chuckled as I jumped back into making coffees as more customers entered, watching as Skip had to wait out his erection awkwardly.
I gave him a small wave when he finally stood up to leave, and he shot me a dirty little smile over his shoulder as he reached the door.
The hot and heavy scene of him screwing me like no tomorrow slammed into my mind, and I gasped as I nearly dropped the jug of hot milk I was foaming up. I cursed as my core tightened, and I prayed my arousal wasn’t strong enough that anyone would smell it.
Skip’s soft chuckles filled my head, and I swore mentally at him as I tried to focus on my work.
‘Arsehole,’ I shot at him.
‘You love it,’ he chuckled, winking as he pushed out the door.
I just smirked and shook my head as I poured the takeaway coffees.
What a little shit.
I did love it though.
Chapter 4
I sat in Dory, playing with my dragon keychain out in front of the house.
Ollie wasn’t home yet, and Skip had been called out for a last minute job with his boss. Lucas was out in the yard practicing magic while chatting with Marcus as he painted.
A quick peek into his mind revealed he was painting a gorgeous mountain surrounded by cherry blossom trees below.
‘Come join us, VB,’ Marcus said as he felt me slip into his mind.
‘I will soon,’ I promised.
I had something I wanted to do first.
I dropped my keys into my handbag, then closed my eyes as I slipped into my void.
“Walter?” I called out, frowning instantly when I didn’t sense his presence.
Where was he?
My void was deathly silent as I walked around, reaching out and searching for him.
I was getting the slightest spark of his presence, but it was so faint.
A pang of fear hit me for him.
Had Mr Brady nearly killed what was left of him in his attempt to free him?
“Walter?!” I called out loudly.
I willed my void to reveal him to me, but it swirled and struggled.
I cursed inwardly as I focused, allowing my banshee side to shine through more.
I reached out with my very being, honing in on that little spark.
“Everything all right?”
I sighed when that proper voice, so smooth and rich, pierced the air.
I stared at where Walter slowly formed before me, his top hat gone.
“Are you all right?” I asked softly.
“There’s no need for you to worry about me, Miss Smoak. I least deserve your concern,” he said sadly as he straightened his coat.
“It wasn’t your fault
,” I found myself saying.
“But it was my hands that committed those heinous acts,” he said softly, his voice pained.
“Where were you?” I asked, changing the subject, hating the lost, pained look he wore.
“Mr Brady, when he tried to free me, simply opened up the doorway to the spirit world for me. I can enter it whenever I wish, but it seems I’m still tied to this void. When I enter that realm, I can see so much, learn so much. I can communicate with others who have left the world of the living. Time moves differently there. I feel like I’ve been gone for days, but returning here when you called, I see that it’s not even been a day,” Walter explained as he smiled softly at me.
I stood quietly as I processed this. He had access to the spirit world? Was that similar to how Emma could communicate with spirits? She had to draw some of them forth, but other times, she could just hear them when she focused. Like she had a foot already in their world.
“What’s it like?” I asked softly.
“The spirit world? Well, it’s much like yours. Depending on where you go, you can choose what era to jump back to. I cannot go further back than the nineteenth century, as that’s when I was born. Not yet, anyway. Some of the other spirits can travel as far back as they wish, but they can sometimes become lost. I’ve mostly wandered among the current era, learning the habits and ways of this day and age. Most of the spirits are hospitable, especially the younger ones. Those who’ve been in that world for too long, holding on and not moving onto the next, they can grow dark. I haven’t had any issues though,” he said as he looked off into the void.
I was stunned to learn this. A part of me wanted to ask so many questions, but I had no idea where to start. I was just amazed.
“I remembered my father during one of my days in there,” he continued, a frown marring his face. “I remember him calling upon me, telling me my healing specialties were required. He had a friend who was dying. I believed him, and I went to him. I was naive in trusting him after cutting him off for so many years. He captured me, and he experimented on me. He was practicing necromancy, and he was fascinated with wendigos and their primal needs. They only lived for power and food. He forced me to turn into one. I don’t remember much of it, just glimpses, but I remember he starved me for months, and when he fed me, I didn’t question the meat. Soon, I needed it, became desperate for it. My body was changing, and my mind was slowly morphing. I was losing myself,” he murmured, looking utterly devastated as he remembered the painful scenes.
