Deep Within The Shadows (The Superstition Series Book 1)

by Teresa Reasor

  “We saved the tampons and wrappers,” Miranda said, pulling out a bag from her desk.

  “The notes are written in Latin, and I translated them, but you might want to get an expert to check it. I was on my way to the Catholic church to have the priest there look it over when you showed up.”

  Miranda added, “Caleb suggested it might be a woman. He didn’t think a man would chose a feminine hygiene product to hide it in.” She offered two bags to him. “He found one in the trunk of my car, too.”

  So Faulkner had been with them when they found them. He perused the slips of paper through the plastic. The words had been printed by hand in calligraphy. A reddish cast hung along the edge of each word, like the ink had bled.

  He pulled the translation Juliet had done out of the bag and read it.

  He thought he’d seen everything. He’d dealt with drug addicts, drunks, prostitutes, pimps, peeping toms, perverts and murderers. He’d arrested them all.

  The translation of the words sent an uneasy chill up the back of his neck.

  Miranda and Juliet waited for his reaction.

  “It’s a threat wrapped up in a voodoo spell.”

  “Not voodoo,” Juliet corrected him. “It’s written according to Wiccan custom. Wicca demands you harm none. And one more thing I believe this is something more. I believe the ink may be blood.”

  Chapter 14

  Caleb tightened the screws on the new doorknob he’d installed on Miranda’s front door. Once he did the deadbolt, the house would be more secure. Since he already had her car keys with her house keys on it, he’d gone ahead and installed the locks both front and back.

  Would she be pleased with this, or upset he’d taken the initiative without asking? He never knew these days. She swung between pushing him away and looking at him as though she wanted… How was he to know what women’s looks meant? He couldn’t seem to stop loving her, and hoping she’d finally let him in…

  He jerked out the rag he’d stuffed in his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his face and neck. The breeze was like a hot breath, and clung, sticky with humidity. The hypersensitive feeling of being watched slithered down the back of his neck for the third time in the last few minutes. The hair rose on his forearms. His heart rate skyrocketed.

  He picked up the drill to use as a weapon and braced for an attack. How much good would the drill be against a supernatural shadow creature?

  After a moment’s pause, when nothing moved, he set the bit to cut away the dead bolt and leaned into the job. He had to believe whoever had planted those fucking slips of paper on Miranda and Juliet hadn’t had access to the house; otherwise everything he was doing wouldn’t provide a damn bit of protection.

  Ten minutes later he finished changing out the lock and bent to gather his tools.

  He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and swung to meet it. In the shaded eave of the porch, a darker shape scurried along the vinyl siding to the ceiling. Was it only the light reflected from the windshield of a passing car or something more?

  The longer he looked at the shape straight on, the more it seemed to fade. He looked just to the right of it, and it came into stark relief. It looked like a huge spider, suspended close to the door, ready to drop on the unwary.

  It had been observing him for some time. He’d felt it. Was it there to watch, or would it attack him? He moved forward with the drill, and it scrambled along the ceiling to the edge of the eaves. Caleb lunged again, and it slipped around the back side of the gutter.

  Come on, fucker!

  Why wouldn’t it take him on?

  Because it hadn’t come for him.

  Shit. Locks or no locks, Miranda and Juliet couldn’t come back here.

  They were in deeper trouble now. The thing’s legs crept around the edge of the eave and came back into view, its shape coming in and out of focus.

  Something major had changed. This one could appear in daylight.

  * * *

  Miranda stepped around Vivian to reach her desk. The woman had no sense of personal space. She often stood too close when they spoke. “I’ve decided to leave a little early, Vivian.”

  “You probably shouldn’t have come in at all today, Ms. Templeton. That bruise on your arm looks wicked painful.”

  Miranda settled into her desk chair and suppressed the need to rub her arm. It ached from the top of her shoulder to her elbow, like someone had drilled right through the bone. At the hospital she’d been surprised to find it wasn’t broken.

  She’d studied the bruise in the bathroom mirror this morning and gotten nauseous just looking at it. Something evil had stabbed her. And she had no idea what it was or where it had come from. Since Abbott and Porter had probably died of a similar attack, she’d been lucky. The shield she threw up had deflected the blow just enough to keep it from going through her body.

  “It has started to ache a little more since this morning. I’ve made up a schedule for the rest of the day, and I was hoping you could pass it on to Ms. Carlyle when she comes in. I’ve already called security, and they’ll be here to search the upstairs restrooms for stragglers in my absence. I’ve decided that from now on they need to be the ones to do that instead of one of us, for safety’s sake.”

  Vivian reached for the schedule before Miranda had a chance to hand it to her.

  That was another thing she found irritating. Vivian’s overeager behavior wasn’t abating, and instead seemed to be tumbling into overbearing. “I appreciate you passing that on, Vivian. I have a few more things I need to take care of before I’ll be ready to leave.”

  The woman frowned, probably miffed at the dismissal in her voice, but said, “You’re welcome, Ms. Templeton. I’ll be sure she gets this.”

  Miranda stared after her. She’d looked through every employees file and found nothing but academic types who were as boring as she. Did any of them have hidden lives where they practiced the Craft?

  Mary Janet and Susan, two of the work-study students, wandered by, stacks of books in their arms to return to the shelves. Did either of them have things in their background to hide? If they did, she hadn’t been able to find it in their employee or student records. Vivian was a little more interesting, since she worked for a while as a secretary in her father’s law firm before quitting to go back to school. Her father seemed to be footing the bill. If her behavior here was any indication, he might have sent her back to school to get her out of his office.

  Her need to take charge might serve her well in her own classroom, though. High school students could be a handful.

  Nora Donovan slipped through and settled at a table in the study area. She wondered if the girl was still seeing Robert Hoag.

  Out of the corner of her eye she caught movement from the stairs, and her attention snagged on Caleb as he swung toward her office. Every time she saw him, her pulse raced and her heart tumbled. She rose to greet him with a smile.

  “We have a problem,” he said, his expression grim.

  The adrenaline racing through her system at sight of him kicked up a notch and swerved in a different direction. “What is it?”

  He edged her back into the office and closed the door. “I installed a new alarm in your car and I’ve changed the dead bolt and other locks on your doors at the house.”

  “Oh.” He’d been in hyper-protective mode since last night. He couldn’t continue this indefinitely. Already lines bracketed his mouth and his eyes were bloodshot. “That was a good idea. Thank you.”

  “While I was at the house something strange was on the porch.”

  Something in his eyes shoved her anxiety up another level.

  “It looked like a dinner plate-sized spider, but I couldn’t see it if I looked straight at it. It had some kind of strange shadow camouflage. It didn’t try to attack me, but seemed more interested in just watching to see what I was doing. I know it sounds crazy…”

  Miranda laid a hand on his arm. “I believe you.”

  His expression clea
red. “I think you and Juliet should stay at my place. No one’s been there. They wouldn’t have had any reason to be.”

  Because she’d never been there. She as good as read the thought from his face. What did it say about her that she had never been to his home? That she had pushed him away at every chance. And what did it say about him that he’d continued for months to try to dig through the barriers she’d erected between them?

  Six months, and all they’d done was lunch or dinner, movies, and pie and a few light kisses. She felt ashamed for having treated him so uncaringly when she—she loved him so, it bloomed into an ache inside her. Regret stuck in her throat, thick as peanut butter and twice as choking.

  All day she’d dwelled on what Juliet had said about Clay. The fear of his discovery had been like a stone burrowed into the bottom of her heel and every time she stepped on it, the pain reminded her he was always there, waiting to destroy her life and Juliet’s. If he was truly gone… He was gone. Juliet had sworn he was.

  It had taken her so long to get past the legacy Clay left behind. Seeing what he had done to Juliet had scarred her, killed any desire to share herself with a man. Until Caleb came home. Was it even possible that she could have a life? A life with Caleb? But first they had to get past these creatures and whoever was responsible for sending them.

  Miranda rested a hand on his arm. “I think it would be a good idea for us to stay with you, too. We’ll need some clothes and toiletries.” He bit her lip. “Detective Robinson came by, and we gave him the notes we found.

  “It was a good call, Mandy. I know why none of us admitted the truth to the cops, but if all three of us go back in and lay it out for them…”

  “They’ll think we’re all insane. If you hadn’t seen them yourself, would you believe?”

  “No. I wouldn’t have. But then there a lot of things in this world that happen all the time that I can’t believe.”

  He’d gone to war to get an education, and had learned more than how to rebuild engines. Those experiences had scarred him as deeply as Clay Maddox’s abuse had Juliet and her. She moved to embrace him and he put his arms around her. After so many months, it felt natural to fit herself to his tall frame and just lean in. It felt right.

  “Maybe they won’t show up tonight. Maybe last night was a one-time deal.”

  He ran a hand down her back. “I hope so, but just in case, I still think you and Juliet should stay with me. I have plenty of room. There are five bedrooms.”

  Reluctantly she drew back to look up at him.

  He glanced at his watch. “You said you saw one of the shadows in the library last night. It might be a good idea to get the hell out of here before dark.”

  The idea of some time alone with him before Juliet showed up was a temptation. How could she think of that when their lives were in danger from something none of them understood? But she had waited for such a long time to feel like this about someone. No matter what else was happening, she deserved to be able to acknowledge those feelings.

  “I’m ready to go now, if you are. I can’t really do very much with my arm out of commission.” Her fingers briefly lingered on her upper arm. She’d see if Juliet felt up to trying some healing. She’d always been good at it before.

  “How is it feeling?” he asked.

  “Very sore.” She unlocked her desk drawer and grabbed her purse. She took everything out and laid it on the large calendar that covered the surface of her desk. She searched each item, and when she found nothing, put everything back in her bag.

  “Where’s Juliet?” Caleb asked.

  “She and Detective Robinson have gone to the Catholic church to ask the priest to check her translation.”

  “Why was Robinson here?”

  “He came by to warn us. Abbott was found dead in his cell this morning. They know he and his partner were hired to kill Juliet, but they don’t know why or who hired him.”

  “Shit!” Caleb caught her good arm. “I don’t think you realize what my seeing the spider on your porch means, Miranda. The thing on the porch was a shadow of sorts, but it was out during daylight.”

  The magnitude of what he’d discovered hit her. Safety in daylight, the one thing they thought they could count on, was no longer a guarantee.

  “I need to call Juliet and warn her.” She scrambled to jerk her phone free of her purse.

  Chapter 15

  Chase and Juliet sauntered down Sacred Heart’s center aisle. The church hadn’t changed since he was a boy. The darkly stained wooden pews gleamed with polished care. The scent of fresh cut flowers hung in the air. Large bouquets were set in the entrance foyer and at the front of the sanctuary.

  When they reached the first pew, Chase went to one knee and made the sign of the cross.

  Juliet paused beside him. “You go to this church?”

  “Yes. My mom moved us here when I was twelve. I went to church here until I moved away to go to college. I started back when I moved back two years ago.”

  “You moved here from up north?”

  “Yes.”

  “Michigan?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  A small quirk of her lips and he could see amusement. “Everyone in Kentucky has at least one family member who lives in Michigan.”

  “Do you?’

  “Cousins on my Dad’s side.”

  “I’ll start asking around and take a poll,” Chase quipped and earned another of her small smiles. She didn’t smile easily. That was a shame.

  “You said Abbott died in his cell.”

  Her quick change of subject killed the easy mood between them.

  “You might want to search his cell or the block where he was housed for a slip of paper with similar words on it.”

  He hid his keen interest by focusing his attention on Father Clarence’s entrance from one side of the altar. “Why do you say that?”

  When he looked up she shrugged. “Just a hunch, Detective.”

  “Do you believe in things like witchcraft?” he asked.

  “I believe in evil, and sometimes that’s all it takes to make things happen.”

  He couldn’t argue with that.

  “Father Clarence.” He extended a hand in greeting.

  The priest shook it. A shock of white hair hung over his forehead, yet his features appeared youthful despite his forty years of service to the church.

  “Chase, how have you been?”

  Chase smiled at the man’s not-so-subtle reminder that it had been some weeks since he attended services. “Working weekends as well as nights, Father.”

  Father Clarence nodded. “I understand. You save souls your way and I do it mine.”

  “I do my best.”

  “Now what can I do for you?”

  Chase motioned to Juliet. “This is Juliet Templeton. She and her sister were attacked last night. This morning they both discovered these hidden in their purses.” Chase extended the plastic bags with the notes. “Juliet translated what was written on them, but I wanted to follow up with you and ask you to double-check her work.”

  Father Clarence studied the words through the plastic. “Come back to my office, and I’ll translate them for you.”

  Chase momentarily wondered about allowing a victim to become part of the investigation. But Juliet was already a part of it.

  They followed Father Clarence through the door to the sanctuary and down a wide hall to his large, cluttered office. Chase was amazed to note the room hadn’t changed since he was a boy. The issues caused by his pale blue eyes and his sensitivity to light had been fodder for teasing by the other boys his age. He’d dealt with the issue in his usual straightforward manner and kicked their asses. His aggression had gotten him expelled twice from middle school before Father Clarence took him under his wing and taught him some coping techniques to redirect his anger. Techniques he still used on occasion.

  The priest motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat. This will only take a few minutes.” He
sat down behind his desk and pulled a legal pad from the flotsam strewn across the surface.

  Juliet’s cell phone rang. She excused herself and stepped out into the hall to answer it.

  When she returned, her expression remained guarded, but there was a tightness around her eyes that concerned him.

  Father Clarence looked up after only a few moments. “Juliet you did a decent job translating this. It’s definitely written as a magic spell. Are you Catholic?”

  “No, Father.”

  The priest’s brows went up like white caterpillars. “Do you claim any particular faith?”

  “No. But I’m open to all possibilities.”

  “And you read Latin?”

  “Some. I took Latin in high school. The rest I got from an online translator,” she explained.

  Chase studied her features. She was obviously as smart as her sister, yet she’d never attended college, and she clung to her bartending job like a barnacle. The patrol officers he’s spoken to admitted to stopping her because of her past rather than anything she was into currently. She was beautiful, sassy, and usually dressed much more suggestively than she was right now. And cops would be cops.

  Had she sold her car to keep from being harassed, or because she had money problems? He’d have to check.

  Father Clarence remained silent for a moment. “I don’t read this as a joke. I read it as a real threat.”

  “I did too,” she said.

  “You can’t really believe someone could use witchcraft to harm someone,” Chase said. “That it would really work.”

  “I don’t rule out anything that can compromise a person’s soul, Chase.”

  Surprised by the priest’s attitude, he asked, “Do you know someone who practices this?”

  “No. But I’ve seen things in other countries that would make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.”

  Chase glanced at Juliet. “And you?”

  “I was lifted off my feet and held in the air like a rag doll. It was either someone huge or something more.”