“THIS IS a nightmare,” I groaned, covering my face to ward off the sight across the Dragonfly foyer.
“Oh, you’re here,” Dad said, breezing into the room and giving me a quick hug. “I was worried you were going to be late. Why are you hiding your face?”
Sam’s jaw was tense as he regarded my father. “I don’t think she was expecting … them.” He gestured to the far side of the room.
Dad’s face fell. “Bay and Thistle?”
Sam nodded.
“They were invited by their fathers,” Dad said. “We thought it would be a great way for everyone to have a good time – and make sure all of the rooms were filled.”
“You didn’t tell me that when you invited me,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even. I should be mad. I should be mad, right? I’m pretty sure I should be mad. Why am I so scared?
Dad cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem? Don’t you already live with Bay and Thistle?”
“Yes, but … .” How could I explain this without sounding like a wanton woman? “I thought it was just going to be Sam and me – and all your other guests. It was going to be like a vacation.”
“From Bay and Thistle?”
Yes! “Of course not,” I said. “It’s just … .”
Sam sighed. “Bay and Thistle don’t like me … and Bay’s boyfriend, well, he just hates me.”
Dad furrowed his brow. “Landon? He seems like a nice enough guy. I don’t really know him. I know Jack seems leery of him, but I just figured it was because he didn’t like him dating his daughter.”
“He’s a nice guy,” I said hurriedly. I like Landon. I like what he’s done for our family, and especially how he makes Bay smile. He’s just … difficult.
“He’s suspicious,” Sam said.
Dad met Sam’s gaze questioningly. “Isn’t he an FBI agent?”
Sam nodded.
“Isn’t it his job to be suspicious?”
Sam nodded again.
“Why is he suspicious of you?”
The question hung in the air, a direct challenge to Sam. “He thinks I’m up to something,” Sam replied simply.
“Are you?”
“Dad!” I was mortified.
Sam patted my back. “It’s okay, Clove,” he said. “Mr. Johnson, I’m not up to anything. I’m just trying to run a business, the same as you.”
Dad didn’t look convinced. “Well, okay then.” He moved to the registration desk. “I put all three of you up on the top floor.”
The Dragonfly has three stories, and in addition to storage, the top floor consisted of only three rooms. I knew our assignments were deliberate. Unfortunately, I had a sneaking suspicion that Dad thought he was doing a good thing when he made the arrangements. He had no way of knowing just how tense this weekend would be – for all of us.
I forced a tight smile onto my face as I regarded my cousins. They didn’t seem surprised to see me, but they looked less than thrilled to see Sam. That was my life these days, so I was used to it.
“You guys didn’t tell me you were coming,” I said.
“You didn’t tell us either,” Thistle pointed out.
“I … I just found out earlier today.”
“So did we,” Bay said, leaning her blonde head against Landon’s shoulder. “I think they approached us individually because they thought it would be easier to get us all here.”
“So, you thought it was just going to be you and Landon?”
Bay nodded. I turned to Thistle, her head moving in the affirmative before the question escaped from my lips. They’d definitely played us. The question was: Why?
“Well, we’ll just have to make the best of it,” I said, straightening my shoulders. This can still be a fun weekend – as long as I don’t have to spend too much time with Thistle, that is.
Thistle snorted. “You always want to make the best of things.”
“Is that so wrong?”
“It’s just not life,” Thistle said.
Bay put a hand on her arm, stilling her. “Leave her alone.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Thistle protested.
“You’re about to,” Bay said. “It’s supposed to be a fun weekend. Can’t we just all … I don’t know … ignore one another?”
“I always want to ignore you,” Thistle said, lowering her head.
Her boyfriend, Marcus, flicked the ridge of her ear. “Stop being mean to Clove.”
“I’m not being mean to Clove,” Thistle protested. “I wasn’t even talking to her.”
“Stop being mean to Bay, too,” Marcus chided. He was easygoing and amiable. He rarely argued with Thistle, or called her on her crap. He was a calming influence in her life. When he did make his opinion known, more often than not, Thistle listened.
“Fine,” she grumbled, lifting her head again. “I apologize for my bad mood,” she said. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”
I was stunned by the apology.
“Have you been possessed?” Bay asked, grabbing Landon’s hand and taking the proffered key from my father as she turned toward the stairs. “You never say you’re sorry.”
“I say I’m sorry,” Thistle argued.
“No, you don’t.”
“Bay,” Landon warned, grabbing the bag from the floor and following her toward the stairs. “Don’t poke the blue-haired bear.”
“Yeah, listen to Landon,” Thistle said. “No one is going to be poking me this weekend.”
Marcus’ face fell, causing Thistle to give in. “Except you.” He broke into a wide grin; that is until Uncle Teddy – Thistle’s father – fixed him with a dark look from the hallway. I had no idea where he’d appeared from, or when he’d gotten there.
“Oh hey, Dad,” Thistle said, not embarrassed in the least. “We’re going upstairs to get settled. We’ll be down in time for drinks.”
Uncle Teddy didn’t look thrilled with Thistle’s flippant attitude. “I … .”
“See you in a few,” Thistle said, ignoring the flush creeping up her father’s neck.
I risked a look at Sam once Bay and Thistle had disappeared. I could still hear them arguing as they made their ascent. “It’s still going to be fun,” I said.
Sam’s smile was watery. “Oh, I have no doubt.”
“SO, WE’RE really doing a séance?”
Dinner had been divine. My father and uncles had opted to hire kitchen staff from the nearby culinary school, and they’d earned their money tonight. Between a delicious roast, fresh vegetables, and a decadent chocolate cake for dessert, the assembled guests seemed to be enjoying their stay. I was happy for my father – he’d worked hard for this, and he deserved some accolades. Plus, as long as the inn was a success, he would stay in town. That was a win for me – and my two cousins, even if they weren’t ready to admit it yet.
The woman who had asked the question was a reporter for Michigan Travel magazine. She introduced herself as Clara Hamilton. She was in her forties, and attractive (something that hadn’t escaped Uncle Jack’s attention if his constant ministrations to Clara’s needs were any indication).
“We are,” I said, smiling widely as I pointed to the round table in the game room. My father had gone all out, even purchasing an antique crystal ball to place at the center of the table.
“Are you a witch?” Clara asked me pointedly.
I swallowed hard, unsure how to answer. For years, we’d hidden our magical gifts. Once Hemlock Cove rebranded itself as a magical destination, admitting you were a witch wasn’t frowned upon – unless you were an actual witch. Most of the townsfolk knew there was something off about our family, but they pretended otherwise. That’s the way we liked it.
“Of course she’s a witch,” Thistle said, stepping forward. “This is a witch town. You can’t have a witch town without real witches.” The smile she sent the assembled guests was enigmatic. I knew she was trying to defuse the situation, but I was still on edge.
“Are you a witch, too?” Clara asked.
I frowned. I knew she was just playing it up for the crowd, but Thistle was having a little bit too much fun doing it.
Chet Corbin, a Ford executive from the Flint plant, smirked. “I love the atmosphere of this place,” he said. “I like that everyone pretends they’re in on the gag. It’s great.”
Dad cleared his throat. “It is great.”
“And the whole town is like this, right?” Corbin said. “The whole town plays the game?”
“They do,” Uncle Teddy replied. “Everyone has a great time … playing the game.”
I knew three men who had disliked “the game” so much they’d fled. Sure, they were trying to make up for it now, but they hadn’t seemed so keen on playing the game when they were married to our mothers.
“We all love the game,” Bay said, shooting me a sympathetic look. “Clove is great at the game. She’s a gifted psychic. I’m sure she can conjure up a friendly ghost or two for everyone to play with tonight.”
Clara smiled. “Let’s do it. I’m so excited. I’ve never been to a séance.”
I let everyone file into the room ahead of me, and Bay stopped in the doorway long enough to give my hand a squeeze. “Just put on a good show,” she said.
“And when nothing happens?”
Thistle and Bay exchanged a small look. “We’ll just give them a miniature light show,” Thistle whispered. “It will be fine.”
My heart dropped. They were planning on using real magic. “What if someone sees?”
“They won’t know what they’re seeing,” Thistle said. “This isn’t our first rodeo.”
Somehow their show of solidarity warmed me. “It’s going to be fun, right?”
“It’s going to be a lot of fun,” Bay said, glancing over her shoulder as Landon sidled up to her and snaked an arm around her waist.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Landon said. “My witch turns into a pumpkin at midnight, and I need to … .” Landon broke off, searching for the appropriate words to turn his metaphor dirty.
Thistle solved the problem for him. “Explore the pumpkin patch?”
Landon grinned. “Exactly.”
Uncle Jack moved in behind us, clearing his throat as he fixed Landon with a harsh look. “What were you talking about?”
“Oh, Landon was just talking about exploring Bay’s … .”
Marcus slapped his hand over Thistle’s mouth to cut her off. “They were just talking about the best way to give the guests a show.”
Jack nodded, his eyes wary. “And it’s just going to be a show, right?”
“Of course,” Bay said, rolling her eyes. “We’re not stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were stupid … .”
“Oh, let’s just get this over with,” Thistle grumbled, irritable as she wrenched Marcus’ hand from her mouth. “If we’re going to perform like monkeys, I want to do it now. The longer we stand here talking about it, the more obnoxious it’s going to be.”
“You always were a ray of sunshine, Thistle,” Jack said. “Even as a child, I could always rely on you to ruin a good mood.”
Thistle blew him a kiss. “I’m nothing if not predictable.”
Jack’s face was grim as he regarded the three of us. “Just don’t go overboard.”
“Of course not,” Bay said, her face bright. “That’s not the Winchester way.”
Unfortunately, she was lying. That was exactly the Winchester way. I could only hope tonight would break from that tradition.
Three
The table was big enough for all of the guests to sit around, my father and uncles rounding out the crowd. Sam opted to remain standing, close enough so I could feel his presence, but far enough away that he wouldn’t be mistaken as part of the show.
Bay was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest as she waited for me to begin. Thistle was next to her, and Landon and Marcus had taken up position next to their respective girlfriends. They looked relaxed, but looks can be deceiving. Landon was still getting used to our witchy ways, although he’d come a long way in a short time. Marcus was just along for the ride, his face lit with excitement as his anticipation grew.
“Everyone join hands,” I instructed. “Now, everyone close your eyes and concentrate.”
“What are we concentrating on?” Jim Talbot, a reporter for the travel section at one of the Detroit dailies, seemed irritated with the whole endeavor.
“A different plane of existence,” I said, lowering my voice to an ominous level. “One where the dead live.”
“Does it intersect with this plane?” Clara asked, excited.
“Sometimes,” I said. “We have to help the ghosts cross over if we want to talk to them, though.”
“What kind of ghost are we looking for?” Chet asked.
“A friendly one,” Teddy said pointedly.
“Like Casper,” Thistle teased.
Teddy shot her a look. “Exactly.”
“A friendly ghost,” I agreed, fighting the agitation bubbling up. Keep calm, I reminded myself. They weren’t trying to be obnoxious. “Everyone concentrate.”
There was some giggling, and the sound of people shifting in their seats as they grew impatient, so I fixed Thistle with a pleading look. She winked, and then pointed to the ceiling.
A short burst of light erupted, blue energy licking at the chandelier above the table. It was the exact shade of Thistle’s hair.
“Omigod!” Clara was beside herself. “Is that a ghost?”
“Of course not,” Jim scoffed. “It’s a trick or something.”
A quick glance at Bay told me she was offended by the assertion. She wrinkled her nose and focused on the light, and after a moment, I saw hints of yellow join the fray.
“It’s another ghost,” Clara said, exhaling heavily. “There are two of them.”
I read the change in her demeanor. She’d gone from excited to fearful. That wasn’t going to do my father any good. “It’s the same ghost,” I soothed. “It’s just trying to take form.”
For his part, Jim was staring up at the ceiling. “Where are the light machines?”
Bay tilted her head to the side, causing the table to bump. She wasn’t thrilled with Jim’s skepticism, and she was trying to teach him a lesson.
“Holy crap!” Chet jumped in tandem with the table.
Jim let go of the hands around him and crawled beneath the table to investigate. “How are you doing this?”
His question was met with an ethereal scream from above. It sounded like the mystical lights were in pain.
I scorched Bay with a hateful look. She was taking things too far. Given the expression on her face, and the equally worried grimace on Thistle’s, I knew they weren’t doing it now. Sure, they were responsible for the lights and the shaking table, but the screaming was something else.
“What does it want?” Clara asked. “Is it trapped here?”
“It’s just visiting,” Dad said, shooting me a look. “Send it away, Clove.” He looked ticked off.
“I … .”
“Yes, send it away, Clove,” Jack ordered.
Another colored wisp – this one green – joined Bay and Thistle’s ongoing light show. Bay was shaking her head when our eyes met. They weren’t responsible for the green interloper. I felt Sam move in behind me. “You’re not doing all of this, are you?” His voice was rigid with worry.
I shook my head.
The green light increased its pace, swimming between the other two. I saw Bay and Thistle clasp hands across the room. I couldn’t hear what they were chanting, but I knew they were working against the new entity.
The green light grew in size, swallowing the remnants of Bay and Thistle’s discarded magic. The table was still shaking, but I knew my cousins weren’t responsible. Suddenly, the green light exploded, flaring bright, and then plunging the room into darkness.
Clara began to scream, and I wanted to join her.
“WELL, that was fun,” Thistle said, resting her back against the hallway of the third floor.
“We really need to work on your definition of fun,” Landon said, running his hands over Bay’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Bay said.
“You and Thistle made that thing … explode, though,” Landon pointed out.
“We didn’t make it explode,” Thistle said. “We just banished it.”
“For good?”
Thistle shook her head. “I have no idea. I have no idea where it came from in the first place.”
“I think it was drawn here,” Bay said. “Our magic called to it. It was probably just curious.”
“What was it?” Sam asked. He hadn’t spoken since we left the game room. After a few tense minutes, my father and uncles had managed to convince everyone that the light show was part of the act. A few drinks later – mostly bourbon – everyone agreed they had a great time and retired to their rooms. That had given us the opportunity to put our heads together out of earshot.
“It was a ghost,” Thistle said, looking to Bay for confirmation. “Right?”
“I think so,” Bay replied. “It didn’t take form, though. It was more like really angry energy.”
“Great,” Landon muttered. “Another poltergeist? The last one kept trying to kill you.”
“It’s okay,” Bay said, gripping his fingers tightly.
“It’s not okay,” Landon challenged. “I don’t want you in danger.”
“I’m not in any danger,” Bay said.
“You’re always in danger,” Landon said. “We were supposed to have a quiet weekend together. We were supposed to … I don’t know … snuggle in a hammock and eat more food than should be humanly possible. We weren’t supposed to be dealing with crap like this.”
“I’m sorry,” Bay murmured.
I knew she was worried. She was always worried where Landon was concerned. He said he accepted us – and our witch heritage – but he’d left once before. Bay lived under a cloud of doubt, always fearful that he would do it again. I knew he wouldn’t. One look at him told me everything I needed to know. He’d never willingly walk away from Bay again, but she wasn’t so sure, and I wasn’t the one who could convince her otherwise. That was Landon’s job, and I knew he would eventually succeed. He just wasn’t there yet.
A Witch of a Time Page 2
