by MJ Caan
Whatever it was, it had my attention now. I zoned in, focusing on the tiny, wiggling little worm trying to get away from the fish that were after it.
“Whatcha doing?”
The suddenness of the voice behind me was like having a bucket of cold water dumped over my head. The shock snapped my tenuous connection with the spell, severing any link that I had begun to create. The worm, apple and entire damn orchard disappeared.
“Goddamnit!” I said with a start, spinning around.
Standing behind me, just inside the door, was Officer Cody Hunter.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “And for that matter, how did you get in?”
“The door is pretty smashed. The knob doesn’t turn, but it’s fallen enough off the frame that all you have to do is give it a push to open it.”
I looked over his shoulder to see the door sitting open. It never occurred to me that it could have been damaged, but after seeing the job that the zombie did on the counter, I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised that it had also managed to fuck up my door. I walked around the counter to stand in front of the officer.
“Are you sure you should be in here alone?” he asked. “What if the robber were to come back?”
“Oh, so now it’s a robber. My aunts think it was some kind of crazed druggie looking for a quick fix.”
“Well, your aunts could be correct. Places like this are seen as easy targets. They have cash onboard, low-tech defenses and…no offense, usually have inexperienced high-schoolers or women working at them.”
My internal temperature shot up. Had he really just said that?
“I’m sorry, did you just blame the victim for that attack?” Please let him say something smug, I thought. There was a forty-eight-hour itching spell I read about that I was just dying to try.
“No, not at all,” he stammered. “I meant that you always have to be aware of who might see you as prey. I mean…not prey, but a target.” He scratched his head before continuing. “I mean…it’s the training. We get all these facts drilled into our heads, and sometimes they just leak out. But I assure you, I didn’t mean that as an insult. If anything, you look like you can handle yourself.”
Did he just blush? Despite myself, I almost smiled at his discomfort.
He held up his hands, palms out, giving me the universal hey-it’s-all-cool sign. “I meant that you don’t look like someone that would be afraid, even after the encounter that you had here last night.”
That did make me smile. For the first time, I noticed that he was not wearing his police uniform and annoying wide-brimmed hat. His dark hair was ruffled and standing at odd angles, but seemed to fit his strong, etched features. He was dressed like someone from the city, wearing a purple and blue gingham shirt and khaki-colored Chubby’s. Definitely not what I expected from a local. He caught me looking and cleared his throat.
“What? You were expecting blue jeans and a wife beater?”
I frowned. Whatever I had been thinking was gone. “I hate that term. Why not just call it a tank?”
Now it was his turn to be caught off guard. “I’m sorry. To be honest, I hate that term too. It just came out.”
“You have that problem with a lot of words, it seems. Maybe you should get that checked out.” I turned to head back to the counter, but stopped when I realized that I still didn’t know why he was here.
He must have been able to read the unspoken question in my eyes through my annoyance.
“Oh yeah,” he said, flinching, “I wanted to bring you this.” He had a cloth messenger bag slung obliquely across his body. Reaching in he pulled out a plain manila envelope and stepped toward me, holding it out in front of him.
“What’s that?” I eyed the package suspiciously but made no move to take it.
“It’s the coroner’s report on the blood and tissue samples from the body up at Singing Falls. Oh, and we got an ID on it as well, so I figured you guys would need that too.”
For once, I was actually speechless. I felt like a buffoon when I realized I was literally standing there with my mouth open.
“What?” he said. “Your aunt told me to bring it to you when I got the results. I was on my way up to your house when I drove by and saw you working in here. Hey, speaking of your aunts, last night was a little strange. I felt really weird. I remember being at your house and at some point I felt like I had…I don’t know…the whammy put on me. When I first woke up this morning, I wasn’t sure it actually happened, but then I remembered what they wanted. How’d they do that?”
“You’re not supposed to remember anything other than the key command they gave you. After fulfilling it you should forget everything,” I stammered.
“Figured as much. So is it true? The things that people whisper about your family? Are y’all really witches?”
He looked around, wrinkling his nose.
“Oh yeah, I meant to ask you last night: what is that smell in here? Smells like you burnt something up really, really bad.”
6
I found my aunts sitting on the deck, enjoying a midday cocktail.
“Here you go,” I said, dropping the envelope on the table in front of them.
“What’s this?” Aunt Lena said, eying the package.
“It’s the coroner’s report you asked Cody for last night.”
Both of their eyes widened as Aunt Vivian picked up the envelope and opened it.
“How did you get this?” asked Aunt Lena suspiciously.
“He brought it to me,” I answered, crossing my arms in front of me. “At the coffee shop.”
“What? He was supposed to bring that here,” said Aunt Vivian.
“Yeah, and from what you told me he was also supposed to forget doing it and everything that happened last night,” I said. “But that didn’t happen. He remembers all of it.”
“Not possible,” said Aunt Lena, looking at her sister. “Either the spell or the tea alone would have wiped his memory. The combination of the two should have completely blanked him. Are you sure?”
I nodded, my attitude changing when I noticed the look of concern on my aunts’ faces. “What’s wrong? And please don’t say there is nothing to worry about. Obviously something is going on.”
Their eyes met once again before Aunt Lena let out a long sigh.
“She’s not a child anymore,” she said to Aunt Vivian. “And as we said, we can’t protect them forever.”
“Protect us from what?” I asked. “And by ‘us’ I assume you’re talking about myself and Gar?”
“And others,” said Aunt Vivian cryptically.
I pulled out a chair and sat down at the end of the table.
“There is no way that young man should have been able to shake off that spell,” said Aunt Vivian. “Are you sure you cast it correctly?”
“Of course I did,” replied Aunt Lena. “Are you questioning my skills?” She squinted at her sister.
“Well, you’re no spring chicken,” said Aunt Vivian. “You’re not the witch you once were, you know.”
“How dare you! My casting has only gotten stronger with age and you know it. I’ll show you…”
“Okay, enough,” I interjected, before the conversation could completely derail. “Let’s stay on subject here. First, you’re admitting that you did work magic on Cody last night and for some reason it didn’t work. Any thoughts as to why?”
They exchanged looks, and for a second I could almost swear they were engaged in some type of non-verbal communication as well.
“The spell your aunt cast was one that not only compelled him to speak the truth, but should have also acted as a veil over his mind,” said Aunt Vivian. “It should have prompted him to follow the commands he was given, and then forget it ever happened. The tea he was given acted as a mild relaxant to make him even more susceptible to suggestion. He had information we needed, and there was not time to be subtle about getting it.”
“Okay, so just how powerful are you?” I asked. “And w
hile you’re opening up, are these learned skills or were you born with them?”
“A combination of both,” Aunt Lena said. “The potions and herbs we use are learned. The spell used to subvert human will is learned as well, but it is bolstered by a witch’s power.”
“The magic that runs in our family is deep and powerful,” said Aunt Vivian. “It’s both learned and intrinsic to us.”
“So who taught you?” I asked. “And why didn’t you teach me?”
Aunt Vivian took in a deep breath and looked out over the railing at the rolling treetops around us. The breeze whispered through the canopy of old growth as it made its way across the wooded landscape.
“Your mother never wanted you to learn,” she replied quietly. “She was afraid to have you pulled into our world, and made us promise that we would not bring you into this. She said that there was no longer any need for us to practice, and therefore, there was no need to involve you at all.”
“That was her parting request before she left us,” said Aunt Lena, her eyes growing misty.
I didn’t say anything as I thought this through. They didn’t often speak of my mother. It was a painful subject for them and I knew they missed her terribly. Plus, while I still had memories of her, Gar didn’t, and they were always wary of bringing her up around him. As much as I wanted more information about her, I sensed that this was not the time.
“So what’s changed?” I asked. “Why did my mother say there was no longer a need for magic?”
“That’s a longer story,” replied Aunt Lena. “One that we will tell you, but first, we need to look at this report.”
I started to argue, but shut my mouth when Aunt Vivian pulled the contents of the envelope out and laid them on the table. There were pages of printed reports along with a myriad of pictures accompanying them. She flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for.
“Cause of death: excessive trauma to the torso and neck consistent with animal attack,” she read. She turned a few more pages before continuing. “Tissue and hair samples removed from the wounds were typed and cross-matches with…” She paused, reading silently.
“With what?” I asked.
She looked up before continuing. “It says there is an 84 percent chance the hairs are canine, but of a species that can’t be one hundred percent identified. There is a chance the samples were contaminated due to the presence of human DNA in the torso samples, but animal DNA was found in samples from the throat.”
The pictures that accompanied this section of the report were stomach-churning close-ups of the victim’s ripped apart chest and slashed throat. I swallowed the lump that I felt rising in my own throat and looked away.
“So then it really was an animal attack,” I said.
“Appears so,” said Aunt Vivian.
“Damnit!” I shouted, and was immediately sorry for the profanity in front of my family members. “I didn’t mean for that to come out, but after all these years I can read you both. Neither of you believe that. What are you not telling me?”
“The report is probably correct,” said Aunt Vivian, “but at the same time it may also be wrong. It states the only way there could be contamination of this order is if one of the police officers, or whoever found the body, messed with the crime scene. But what they haven’t considered is that both of those could be true of one person.”
I let that sink in for a second before responding. “So…werewolves?”
“There are no such thing as werewolves, Allie,” said Aunt Lena.
“Well…technically, we should say there is no such thing as werewolves anymore.”
“So then the stories my mother told us were true? She killed all the wolves?”
“She might have had a little help,” said Aunt Lena with a twinkle in her eyes.
“But I assure you, Allie, this was not a werewolf. There is one obvious explanation we are overlooking,” said Aunt Vivian.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“That this was done by a man with a large dog. The dog could have killed this person and then the man harvested his organs.”
I arch an eyebrow at them both. “Let me guess, in order to feed his angel dust addiction?”
The looks they gave me told me neither of them were amused.
Aunt Vivian flipped through more pages.
“It says here the victim has been identified as an Alexander Tilden from Queen City, North Carolina. A native.”
“Does that name ring a bell?” I asked.
“It does sound familiar,” said Aunt Lena. “We should go look into it.” They both got up, gathered the paperwork and headed for the door that led into the kitchen.
“Wait, that’s it?” I asked. “That’s all you’re going to say? What about that thing that attacked me last night? What about the fact that Cody not only shook off your spell, but he could smell…” I stopped, aware of what I almost said.
“He could smell what?” Aunt Vivian said, looking closely at me.
“He could smell something in the coffee shop,” I added. I was careful not to tell an outright lie because that was something the two of them would have been able to pick up on immediately. “I told you that thing that attacked me smelled dead. Why would he be able to smell that?”
“Hmmm,” said Aunt Lena. “Maybe there is more to the good officer than meets the eye.”
I almost snorted. “Yeah. Like a Decepticon.”
“More like someone you need to keep an eye on until we can figure out what all of this may mean,” said Aunt Vivian. She turned to face me, smiling warmly. “Allie. You have a lot of questions, rightfully so. I promise we will answer them all as soon as we know a little more about what is going on. But until then, I need you to be smart. Stay close to the house or the coffee shop. Both are well warded. Find your brother and make sure he stays put as well.”
I knew there was no point in arguing with her, so I just nodded.
“And Allie,” said Aunt Lena, “until we know more about him, stay away from that officer. Even though he is very cute.”
With that, they both disappeared into the house, no doubt headed for their study. I walked into the kitchen, filled with more questions than answers. Opening the refrigerator door, I took out a bottle of water and sipped it slowly as my mind raced. An idea was starting to form, one that my aunts wouldn’t like, and which they certainly would never allow me to attempt.
Of course, what they don’t know can’t hurt them. It might hurt me after they found out, but for now it was worth a try.
I scooped up my keys from the entryway table and ran to the foot of the stairs.
“I’m headed back to the coffee shop. I need to make sure everything is secure for the day if I’m not going to be there,” I called up the stairs. No answer. Good: that meant they were plotting God-knows-what in their study. I slipped out the door and bounded to my car, only to find the passenger seat occupied.
“Gar,” I said, “get out. I need to run back down to the shop. Aunt Lena and Aunt Vivian said you need to stay in the house until they’re convinced all is safe.”
He looked at me, his gaze mischievous as he smirked. He didn’t have my red hair, but we had the same green eyes, and his shone mischievously.
“What they said was for you to look after me.”
“Were you eavesdropping again?”
“No. I was on the bottom deck and couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I wasn’t trying to listen, so technically that’s not eavesdropping.”
“Gar, I’m not going to argue. I won’t be gone long, so just wait inside until I get back.”
“C’mon,” he said, “we both know you’re not going to the shop. I may not know where you’re going, but I guarantee it’s not there.”
I eyed my little brother carefully, trying to gauge just what exactly he knew.
“Wherever you’re going,” he continued, “I want to go as well. You know our aunts always know when we lie to them. This way, when the
y ask if you kept an eye on me, you can truthfully said ‘yes.’”
I hesitated, considering this option only for a briefest of seconds before shaking my head.
“No dice.” I said. I open his car door and motioned for him to get out. “Get out now or I’ll tell them what’s on your computer browsing history.”
Instantly, I could sense the change in his demeanor. He narrowed his eyes to slits and stared at me.
“Go ahead,” he said, “and I’ll tell them what’s on yours. I’m sure they’d love to know where you’re learning about magic!”
We stared at one another, deadlocked. Finally I slammed his door shut and hopped behind the wheel.
“Put your seatbelt on, and you’re not to breathe a word of this to either of them, agreed?”
He nodded emphatically and buckled himself in.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Singing Falls. I want to get a look at the spot where the body was found.”
“Hells yeah!” he shouted excitedly as we pulled out.
“Gar! Language!”
7
We made the drive to the outskirts of town in silence, me focusing on the road, Gar staring out the passenger window in silence, watching the scenery whiz by. More than once I was tempted to ask him just how much he had overheard, but what I really wanted to know was just how much he knew about my extracurricular studies.
“How come they never talk about Mom?” he asked out of the blue, without turning to face me.
“Honestly, I don’t know. From what I can tell, they always had a strong relationship as siblings, so I’m not sure what happened.”
“Is it because of the witchcraft, or the fact that she said she killed all the werewolves?” he said.
“Gar…you know those don’t exist, right?”
“Which one? The werewolves or the witches?” This time he turned in his seat to face me. I could feel his eyes burrowing into me.
I didn’t say anything; instead I just gripped the wheel harder.
