Witch I May, Witch I Might

by K. J. Emrick

  She smiled as she said it, though. Doyle was so cute when he was asleep. He really was a good cat, and he’d been a big help to their family more than once. She supposed he was worth the trouble of carrying him around for a while. At least until she could find someplace to put him down.

  Wonderful smells were coming from the kitchen. It was late in the day, after seven o’clock, but they had been holding dinner off until Willow got here. More nights than not she spent at her boyfriend’s place, where she could—in Willow’s own words—get wild and be herself without worrying about her sisters’ disapproving glances. Thursday nights were family nights, of course, and Willow was always here then. It had been like pulling teeth to get her to promise she would be here tonight. Willow never broke a promise to the family. Usually.

  Her younger sister was definitely flighty, but Addie loved her just the same.

  Strands of her flame-colored hair had fallen into her eyes by the time she reached the kitchen doors. With her hands full of sleeping cat, Addie tried blowing them away, and then tried again. In the end she gave up and tossed her hair over her right shoulder. A couple of strands insisted on falling into her eyes anyway, and she gave up and let them be. Her boyfriend seemed to like her hair a little messy, framing her face and her freckles and her deep green, Irish eyes. He had a few things to say about her slim curves too.

  Some days she thought she could wear a potato sack and Lucian Knight would still gush with compliments for her.

  The swinging doors to the kitchen slapped against their hinges as she pushed through them with one shoulder. Here the delicious aromas were stronger, and she could distinguish individual scents of onion soup and roast beef and baking bread. Kiera had expanded her menu of dinner items considerably now that her son Alan was staying with them at Stonecrest. Having a man in the house had definitely taken some getting used to, for all of them, but it had brought out another side of Kiera. A side Addie hadn’t seen much of in her older sister. A side that smiled often, and laughed frequently, and tried new things.

  Now she turned with a smile, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Hello, Sister Addie. It’s not quite ready yet. We’ll be eating in fifteen minutes.” One graying auburn eyebrow rose as she noticed Doyle in Addie’s arms. “Perhaps before we eat you could find a place to put your passenger down.”

  A joke from her sister, Addie thought to herself. Would wonders never cease?

  The changes in Kiera were more internal ones. She still wore long dresses, covered up from neck to ankle, but now she favored short sleeves, and necklines that showed off just a little skin around the hollow of her throat. At least, she did at home, where no one but the family would see the scars and burns that trailed down her upper arms. There was worse than that hidden under that black dress. She didn’t like to talk about how those things had happened. Addie knew some of the story, but she had never felt the need to pry for the whole of it. The fact that she was relaxed enough to show off her arms just showed how comfortable she had become with having her son around. It was like having Alan here had made her feel years younger. There even seemed to be less gray in her deep auburn hair.

  She had given Alan up for adoption at birth. It had been for his sake, for reasons she believed were the right ones, even though it had killed her inside to do it. Now he was back, and Addie thanked the Lord above for bringing him into Kiera’s life once more.

  Doyle started to slip in Addie’s arms. If the magical smell of Kiera’s cooking hadn’t woken him up, he was likely to sleep through everything. She could just drop him on the living room sofa and call it good. For that matter…

  Pulling a couple of dish towels awkwardly from the oven door she piled them into the corner of the cabinets with her toe, and then carefully folded down to her knees to settle the big tomcat onto the makeshift bed. Patting his head, she spoke a little Irish prayer over him for peaceful dreams while he rested.

  “That all smells so good,” she told Kiera, standing up once more, “but I thought we were waiting for Willow?”

  “She isn’t here yet,” was the terse reply. “She knew what time we were eating. She has lived in this house for all of her life, just as you and I have. If she can’t do us the courtesy of being here on time, then we don’t owe her the courtesy of waiting, in my opinion.”

  Addie was surprised at the heat in her sister’s voice. She was always the calm one, and the one who had patience for everyone else. Now she was eager to get on with life. Just one more change in Kiera Kilorian, the pillar that supported their family.

  “Besides,” Kiera added, replacing the lid on the mashed potatoes to keep them warm. “Alan is here, and he isn’t late, and he is hungry. Therefore, we will be eating in fifteen minutes as planned.”

  Kiera went back to her cooking, fussing over this and that, humming a much livelier tune than the one Addie had put Doyle to sleep with.

  From behind her, she heard Alan singing along to his mother’s humming as he came through the dining room. He had a clear tenor voice, musical but definitely a little off key. Kiera heard him too and left the food simmering on the stove to spin over to him, holding her arms out for her son to twirl her around as if they were in a ballroom instead of three feet away from the kitchen sink.

  Alan was a good-looking man, Addie had to admit. He was just as tall as his mother, and the family resemblance was strong enough that Addie would have known him as some sort of relative even if they had met randomly on the street. It was in the auburn color of his curly hair, and the line of his jaw. The piercing blue of his eyes was from his father, however, and that was another story entirely. Alan’s father complicated things. Thankfully, he’d stayed out of the picture so far.

  That was in large part because Addie had cast a spell on him that kept him from getting anywhere near Stonecrest. It had been kind of a kneejerk reaction on her part, but it had proven to be for the best. Fallen angels were unpredictable, and Alan’s father was one of the strongest of the Fallen.

  So… yeah. Complicated.

  He was dressed in nice slacks and a blue button up shirt that complimented his eyes. Kiera had taken him shopping just yesterday, and now his closet in what had once been a spare bedroom was full. It was a big difference from the jeans and t-shirt that he had been wearing when he arrived, clothes that were too baggy and obviously bought for him by someone else.

  The story of exactly how Alan had found his way to them was still full of holes. His memory had gaps in it big enough for a semi truck to drive through. The whole thing reeked of magic as far as Addie was concerned. Some of it had been explained. Some of it hadn’t. For now, they knew enough. All that mattered was Alan and his mother were reunited.

  “So,” he said, twirling Kiera by one hand. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Yes,” said a smaller, deeper voice at his feet. “We are all wanting to know this, please.”

  Domovyk the cat had slipped in with Alan on silent cat feet. He sat there looking at them now, swishing his tail back and forth across the floor, his startling green eyes staring without blinking. He was a huge black tomcat, and Ukrainian rather than Irish, but they’d taken him in as part of their family. He was once the familiar of a hateful, evil witch named Belladonna Nightshade. Now he belonged here with them, at Stonecrest.

  “We didn’t see you come in,” Addie told him. “Were you and Alan spending some quality time together?”

  “Tak,” Domovyk said, which was ‘yes’ in his native tongue. “I found Alan outside, walking around.”

  “Just a walk in the woods,” Alan explained. “I needed to clear my head. I was taking a nap, and I woke up with the weirdest headache.”

  Domovyk lashed his tail and looked up at Alan standing over him. “We have been making the small talk and becoming more of friends. I am glad he joined family.”

  Addie very nearly laughed at his approval of Alan rejoining his mother’s family, when he was a transplant to the Kilorian household himself. “We’re glad, too. So, to answer yo
ur question, Kiera is making roast beef and onion soup.”

  “And mashed potatoes,” Kiera added.

  “Of course,” Domovyk said, “there is always potatoes. You know what they do with potatoes in Ukraine? They make into vodka. Is much better than grinding them up in big pot on stove.”

  “They’re called mashed potatoes,” Addie explained.

  “Mashed in cooking pot, tak. That is what I said.”

  “Dom, have you ever had a drink of vodka?”

  One ear flicked. “I am cat, Addie Kilorian. Drinking vodka? This is for people, and not so much for cats.”

  Which made perfect sense when he said it like that. Ah, the logic of felines.

  When the food was ready they helped Kiera transfer it onto serving platters and then bring it all out to the dining room table. Even when it was just the family eating at Stonecrest—which was how it usually was—Kiera always insisted on eating at the table, with proper plates and table settings. Addie didn’t mind too much. Although she did sneak the occasional sandwich up to her room with a good book, she liked the ritual of the family dinner. She liked to keep her life as normal as possible. As a witch in a modern world, the little things in life meant a lot.

  The dinner table was long and could easily accommodate a party for twenty. It was just the three of them tonight, plus the one empty plate for Willow, so they were all seated at one end, with Kiera at the head and Alan sitting across from Addie on opposite sides. There were small dishes of roast beef for Domovyk and Doyle, too, placed on the floor. Domovyk had his nearly gone before Doyle wandered out from the kitchen, woken up from his nap by the sounds of plates and bowls and silverware being set on the table and wine being poured into glasses.

  As they sat down, empty plates before them just waiting to be filled, Kiera bowed her head to say the grace. “God bless the corners of this house, and be the lintel blessed.”

  Addie continued the simple mealtime prayer. “Bless the hearth, and this table too, and bless each place of rest.”

  Alan surprised them by adding, “And may you never bear the heavy load of an empty stomach.”

  The sisters stared at him as he reached out to take a dinner roll from the pile of them in their wooden bowl. It was when he was reaching for the butter that he noticed them watching. “What? Did I say it wrong?”

  “No,” Kiera assured him. “You said it perfectly.”

  There was a hint of emotion in her voice that most people would have missed. Not Addie. She knew her sister was getting choked up, and she understood why. “Alan, where did you learn that blessing? Have you been studying up on your Irish blessings?”

  He looked confused. “Uh, no. I thought we were all expected to say grace, is all.”

  “You’re welcome to do so,” Kiera told him, with her eyes levelled at Addie. “And you may do so any time you choose. Isn’t that right, Sister Addie?”

  “Well, of course. It’s just that most people don’t know too many Irish sayings other than that one about the sun being always at your back or ‘Erin go Bragh,’ which they inevitably mispronounce. I was just wondering where Alan might have heard the one he just said.”

  Alan finished buttering his roll, and then accepted the plate of roast beef from Kiera. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just always knew it, I guess.”

  “We have table blessings in Ukraine as well,” Domovyk interrupted. Licking roast beef sauce from his lips, he cleared his throat. “Ahem. Zhyrnishe blokha kompaktnishe sobaka.”

  Doyle sat up immediately and flicked his tail in annoyance. “I keep telling you, boyo. Nobody here speaks that crazy language of yours. Now, stop acting the pew and translate it for us, why don’t you?”

  Domovyk turned a steely cat glare Doyle’s way. “It means, the fatter is the flea, the leaner is the dog.”

  “You bloody stook!” Doyle roared. “Dogs and fleas? You really think that’s appropriate dinner conversation? What’s that blarney supposed to mean, anyway?”

  Domovyk just shrugged. “Always bet on flea.”

  From her place at the head of the table Kiera broke out laughing. She held her cloth napkin up to her face, trying in vain to cover her expression. It was no use. The unexpected joke from the big black tomcat was just too funny. Alan caught the humor, and joined in with his mother, and then Addie couldn’t help herself. She was laughing, too.

  Doyle was not laughing. Tail straight up in the air, whiskers set in straight lines, he sauntered over to the door, muttering to himself. “I’m off to find some peace where a bloke can get a decent nap. Feel free to continue without me.”

  Addie laughed even harder. She would have to make it up to him later, but for now the laughter just felt too good. Sometimes Doyle thought way too highly of himself. She’d bring him a treat from her café tomorrow after work. He liked it when she snuck pieces of the hamburgers home for him. He liked people food in general, and it wouldn’t surprise her to know that he believed he had actually been a person in one of his past lives.

  Which was silly, because that wasn’t how those things worked.

  A knock on the front door echoed through the halls and reached them at the dining table, sweeping away the last of their laughter. Addie checked the time on the grandfather clock. Kind of late for visitors, but not so late that the world beyond Stonecrest should be asleep yet. She wondered who it could be, knocking on their door.

  “You want me to get that?” Alan asked, rising half out of his chair.

  “No, you stay,” Addie told him. “You and Kiera enjoy the dinner she made. I’ll see who it is and be back as soon as I can.”

  Kiera nodded her thanks as Addie got up and went into the hallway. She was at the front door in no time but she didn’t just open it like they always did on television. Long experience with life in general had taught her never to open a door until she knew who was on the other side. Stonecrest itself had a protective barrier, erected by the combined magic of the Kilorian sisters and re-energized once a week, and it kept out any magic users with evil intentions. Big baddies, as she liked to call them.

  That didn’t mean that regular, everyday bad people with regular, everyday bad intentions couldn’t be knocking on their door.

  There were magic spells that would let her know who was on the other side of the door, of course. Magic eye spells that would effectively allow her to see through walls. Those spells required preparation, and a few ingredients that she didn’t have on hand, and a fair amount of Life Essence, the power that resided within every single person on the planet. Witches knew how to tap into that force and use it to change the world around them.

  In fact, there was a massive Well of Essence located right underneath Stonecrest. It was the whole reason the Kilorian family had settled here long before there was even a town here. It was also why they had to protect this land from evildoers who wanted to take the Essence for themselves. Big baddies, like Belladonna Nightshade, and things that were even worse than her.

  So, since she couldn’t immediately use a spell to see who was out there knocking, she decided to do it the old fashioned way.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “It’s Herman Bledsoe,” she heard his reedy voice answer. Then, after another moment, he added, “I’m the constable.”

  She sighed and opened the door for him, a gust of frosty air coming through as she did. November in New England had arrived in force. “I know who you are, Herman. What brings you here?”

  He smiled at her, a thin and crooked expression on that narrow face. Leaning his scarecrow body up against the doorway, he folded his arms across his chest. His uniform shirt was more wrinkled than usual. His badge was crooked too, Addie noticed, and that was unlike him.

  So was the confident way he looked into Addie’s eyes.

  “Hey there,” he said. “Mind if I come in?”

  “Yes, I do,” she told him flatly. “I’m sorry, Herman, but we’ve just sat down to dinner.”

  She didn’t mean to be rude. He served
a necessary function in Shadow Lake, hired by the town’s board of selectmen to enforce town ordinances, and basically make the tourists feel safe when they were here. If anything more serious than a lost purse happened in Shadow Lake—like the occasional rampaging magical creature, or the all-too-common murder—then both the selectmen and Constable Herman Bledsoe knew to come to the Kilorian sisters. They had always been, and always would be, the true protectors of the town.

  He was a bit of an awkward and shy man. Not dull, but not incredibly bright either. At least, that was how she had always seen him. The way he was acting now… he was almost like someone else entirely.

  “Ooh,” he practically crooned. “You’re eating dinner? Well, well. I haven’t eaten anything for supper yet myself. I suppose I wouldn’t mind sitting down for a bite.”

  He actually started to step inside, until Addie lifted a hand up to stop him. “Herman, you’re not invited. Seriously, what’s gotten into you?”

  His pale eyes hardened to chips of stone. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Actually yes, she would, but at the same time she really felt like this conversation had outlived its usefulness. “Herman, it’s late. Did you come here for a reason or not?”

  The smile on his face turned sharp. “Yes, I did. Maybe after you hear this you’ll reconsider inviting me in, Addie Kilorian. I’m here on official constable business.”

  “Good.” She was almost relieved to hear him say that, after the strangeness of their conversation so far. “What’s going on, and how can the Kilorian sisters help?”

  He chuckled, and it was not a good sound. “I’m not sure you can this time. I just came up here to tell you there’s been a murder in town.”

  “That’s one of the things we do help with,” she reminded him. “Who died?”

  “Autumn Lynch, is her name. She’s not from Shadow Lake. She was apparently up in Birch Hollow when she died, just passing through.”

  That was the town to the north, bigger than Shadow Lake by far. They had their own police force, of which Addie’s boyfriend was a member. The Birch Hollow PD provided law enforcement coverage for several towns, Shadow Lake included, and if this murder hadn’t even happened here… “Why is that our issue?” she asked him. “I know that sounds cold, but we protect Shadow Lake, not Birch Hollow.”