The Witch's Journey

by Leigh Ann Edwards

  She angrily picked up the book and threw it, then sent the trunk pitching across the floor, quite pleased when the wood splintered. She knocked the rocking horse over, did some fairly impressive karate kicks on a few other items. She punched and kicked, furiously took out her frustration on more things. The mannequin broke when she lunged at it.

  She ignored the pain in her hands and feet, didn’t pay attention to the blood on her knuckles as she thrashed about in a furious frenzy. She picked up the chest again and threw it against the sofa with the springs poking out. The springs that had jabbed her when she and Faolan had first nearly made love.

  She screamed in sorrow and outrage till her throat hurt. Grabbing the chest again, she madly tossed it through the half-moon window, recklessly smashing the window. Glass shattered wildly. She hoped no one was below to be hit by the shards or the chest.

  Angelique continued her crazed, grief-induced rage until the room was nearly destroyed. Then she used her magic to hurl things around more. She welcomed the frigid air pouring in the broken window. Her tears were cold on her cheeks as the snow fell as it had when they’d spoken their promises, performed the blood vows. She screamed again, punched the wall then heard the door open.

  “Love what you’ve done with the place,” Tristan said trying to be funny.

  “Not in the mood, Tristan.”

  She thought she’d wholly played herself out but apparently not for she smashed her fist into a wall repeatedly, felt her bones shatter. She moaned holding her hand; her sobs came in ragged rasps.

  “Feck, Sammy.” He still called her that.

  She turned away not wanting his pity.

  “Just leave me alone!” Angelique ordered, her throat raw and croaky.

  “I’ll get Danny-Boy.”

  Even Danhoul didn’t know she’d been foolish enough to go back to the past to see Faolan. Was that really only hours earlier?

  Leaning against the wall, trying to catch her breath, her heart pounded erratically. When Danhoul came in, his gaze was sympathetic—not like he pitied her but like he understood.

  “Especially bad day?” He came to her. “You did a number on your hand, Angie.”

  He’d never called her that before or spoken so tenderly. She only wept.

  He used magic to send healing to her broken knuckles and they were immediately eased.

  “Can you do that to my heart?” She sniffled.

  “I would if I could.”

  She closed her eyes. “Want a drink?”

  She retrieved the bottle, took another lengthy drink before passing it to him.

  “We should go downstairs. It’s cold. Bound to get a lot colder with that window broken.”

  “I kinda like feeling numb. How do you manage, Danhoul?” she asked. He seemed uncertain. “Being in love with someone who doesn’t love you? It’s not the same as loving someone who once loved you but is in another century and doesn’t even fucking remember you, but still. Maybe your fate’s worse. You see her, hell you live with her. You know she’s happily married.”

  “Did Faolan tell you about that?” Danhoul asked.

  “No, I’ve seen echoes of Alainn in your thoughts. You love her very much.”

  “I have for years now. Guardians often fall in love with their witches.”

  “It must be difficult?”

  “Sometimes, but Alainn’s happy and I like Killian. I consider him my friend. They’re deeply in love. How can I not want Alainn happy when I love her that much?”

  “You’re a good man, Danhoul. A better person than me.”

  “You saved Faolan’s life, wanted him happy.”

  “I do. I hope he’s well and that he’ll find love, but when I think of him with other women…”

  She shook her head and items began to sail about the room again, smashing against the walls. She heard the waves wildly hitting the nearby shore, the wind strengthening.

  “Transcendent witches are very jealous,” Danhoul said.

  “Do you sleep with other women to ease your desires for Alainn?”

  “Not often. It’s not much more gratifying than…relieving urges on my own. Kind of pointless.”

  She swallowed another long swig and shivered.

  “Life in general’s kinda pointless,” she slurred. “I was lost and struggling before, but now…I’m broken and pathetic.”

  “You’re grieving. That’s to be expected but I think we’d all be relieved if you’d cheer up a little. The weather the past seven weeks has been rough. Cold, drizzle, heavy rain, some flooding. Today there’s been reports of unexpected hurricanes off the coast of Ireland and near here, too. Your displeasure could end up causing tragedy for others, Angie.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Maybe see a doctor.”

  “A doctor’d just prescribe antidepressants. If I saw a therapist or psychiatrist, told them I was in love with an eighteenth-century pirate whom I summoned with magic, but he had to go back so gods or demons wouldn’t kill us…they’d lock me up and throw away the key.”

  “Ya, or prescribe a lot of heavy-duty anti-psychotic drugs,” Danhoul agreed.

  “So apparently Timothy and Newt have been spending lots of time together,” she said, changing the subject to something normal.

  “They’ve really hit it off; might even be falling in love.”

  “That’s good. I want Newt to be happy and I really like Timothy.”

  “You’ll like Alainn, Arianna and Ainsley, too, and their men.”

  “Cal and Ainsley are really my great-grandparents?” she asked.

  He nodded and smiled.

  “But the four of you are the same age. All born Halloween, on the cusp of Samhain.”

  She felt suddenly dizzy, swayed a little. Too much damn whiskey. Danhoul caught her and she liked his warmth. She held tight to him, knew there was an attraction—not like with Faolan, but some. He looked into her eyes and she inhaled deeply.

  “You’ve had a lot to drink.”

  She nodded but still kissed him and he responded.

  “You’re not thinking clearly and vulnerable so this really isn’t a good idea, Angie.”

  “Probably not,” she said, kissing him again and he pulled her closer.

  “I want to feel something other than despair, Danhoul, something besides resentment and pain.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “You understand I’m in love with Faolan. I’ll always love him and you’re in love with Alainn—and…”

  He kissed her this time, harder, more urgently. She pulled off his shirt as he undid her bra and tugged off her shirt, kissing her again as they moved to a large chair with the stuffing protruding.

  “I’d just be using you,” she admitted.

  “I expect I’d be usin’ you, too,” he replied, his breath ragged.

  They kissed again. Her skin tingled, not magically as it had with Faolan, but she was aroused and—she couldn’t think of him now.

  “If you’re not certain, Angie, then…”

  “I’m not freakin’ certain of anything anymore, Danhoul.”

  She kissed him while unzipping his jeans and he slid hers off. They were quickly joined; both deeply moaned at the sensation. She forced herself to look into his blue-grey eyes and not think of the blue eyes of the man she’d always love.

  *

  Danhoul touched her cheek tenderly afterward.

  “I’d say thanks for distracting me, but that’d be a little weird,” Angelique said as they found their clothes.

  “I could say thank you, too,” he replied with a smile. “Or maybe that was bloody amazin’ or I hope you don’t regret it.”

  “I don’t,” she said. “But it’s really cold now.”

  “We’ve obviously been here a while,” he said, looking at the moon.

  There was a colorful flash, a rumble, then a soft ringing sound. She recognized the ripple of someone moving through time and Angelique looked at Danhoul.

  “The other witch
es have returned,” Danhoul said. “Come meet them.”

  “Definitely not…well not right now; maybe tomorrow?”

  “Don’t avoid it because of what just happened between us.”

  “Are you regretful?” Angelique asked.

  “Not at all. I just don’t want it to be strained between us.”

  “It won’t be. You’ll always be my friend, Danhoul.”

  “I’m also your guardian. I think it’s safe to say we’re a little more than friends.”

  *

  Two days later, Danhoul finally led Angelique into the living room of the large four-bedroom apartment where he, Tristan, Alainn and Killian, Arianna and Darius lived. Ainsley and Cal had taken the smaller apartment upstairs. Timothy was staying with them, but they were all here now.

  Angelique was nervous to meet them and knew Danhoul wanted to make it easier for her. He clasped her hand and she watched the other witches observantly notice that.

  “I wouldn’t suggest you four transcendent witches shake hands, but it’s time you all finally meet,” Danhoul said. “This is Angelique.”

  The other three witches were beautiful and looked nothing like the Sanderson sisters from Hocus Pocus, which she’d likely been half expecting.

  “Let me guess your names,” Angelique said, pointing. “Alainn, Killian, Darius, Arianna, Ainsley and Cal. I’ve met Timothy and I think I might know him.” She pointed to Tristan who grinned his crooked grin.

  “Nice to meet you,” the other witches each said.

  Killian warmly smiled. Darius nodded welcomingly. Cal shook her hand and said hello.

  “I’m still trying to feckin’ figure out how I didn’t know you had magic,” Tristan said. “Or that you were the fourth witch.”

  “Danhoul thinks it might be because I died three times and was revived.”

  “I didn’t even realize the truth,” Alainn said, “and I’ve been living here for a while.”

  It was silent for a bit. Angelique felt uneasy.

  “I like what you’ve done with the floor upstairs,” Angelique jokingly said to Arianna. “You’re the fire witch, correct; your ring of hellfire caused the marks up there.”

  Arianna sheepishly nodded. “That was me.”

  “I honestly don’t mind. It actually adds character,” Angelique said as Danhoul motioned for her to sit near Ainsley and Cal. “And you’re really my great-grandparents? That’s mind-blowing.”

  “I agree,” Ainsley said.

  “And Cal’s our great-grandson,” Arianna said with an amusing expression.

  “I saw you,” Angelique said to Cal, “and you, Arianna, and I heard your voice, Ainsley, when I went back in time.”

  “I saw you, too, well I saw your blue cloak and your hair, but I heard a man speak,” Ainsley said.

  “That was Faolan. He was with me on those journeys through time, but not when I took the book.”

  “We’re sorry,” Alainn said, “for what occurred with the man you love.”

  “I told them,” Danhoul said. “I wanted everyone to understand.”

  “Why I’m bitter and twisted and perpetually sad.”

  “How could you not be?” Ainsley said. “I definitely was when Cal and I were apart.”

  “Is there no way for you to be together?” Cal asked.

  “Faolan doesn’t remember me.”

  Danhoul looked at her more seriously, perhaps wondering why she was so certain.

  “Faolan wouldn’t remember me,” she rephrased. “The gods apparently took away his memories. I can’t go back; I’ve apparently lost my ability as a transcendent witch to go through time—well to Faolan’s time anyway. I’ve pissed them off once too often.”

  “They’re really makin’ you live apart because they’re angry with you?” Arianna asked.

  “I ignored their warnings and for Faolan to be saved—it was the only way.”

  She knew she’d soon cry, which was absolutely not what she wanted to do when she’d just met them.

  “What do we do now?” Killian asked.

  “I suppose we wait for instruction from the gods,” Tristan said.

  “Mine and Killian’s father are both searchers workin’ on locatin’ Odhran,” Alainn said and her thick Irish lilt made Angelique think of Faolan.

  “Has anyone even seen Odhran?” Darius asked.

  “None of us,” Alainn said.

  “No one other than evil beings and demons have seen him and lived to tell about it,” Danhoul said.

  “No, Faolan saw him,” Angelique disagreed. “It was when he was a child, but he did see him and Odhran let him live. I saw the echo but didn’t see Odhran’s face.”

  “You see echoes?” Alainn asked. “I’ve always seen them, too.”

  “By the way, Alainn, I also met your mother. She said to say hello to you. She hugged me and gave me her pendant to give to…Faolan,” she hesitantly said, for it seemed nearly every statement included him.

  “My mother hugged you?” Alainn said. “My mother, Mara? She’s not usually the huggin’ type.”

  “She certainly is not!” Killian said. “She put a damn curse on my entire family. But I suppose we won’t get into that when we’ve only just met.”

  His accent was delightfully Irish, too.

  “We’ll have time for lots of stories,” Arianna said.

  “When’s your baby due?” Angelique asked.

  “Four months. Well four months if we don’t have to go back to a faery glade where time stands still,” she said, touching her belly. She and Darius shared a loving look that made Angelique even sadder knowing she’d never have that with Faolan.

  “I should go,” Angelique said. “It was really good to finally meet you. Danhoul and Tristan have spoken of you often.”

  “They’ve told us much about you, too,” Alainn said. “You will come here for Christmas dinner won’t you?”

  Christmas—Angelique honestly hadn’t even thought of Christmas.

  “Timothy’s bringing your friend, Newt,” Ainsley said.

  “Thanks for the invite,” Angelique said, but didn’t commit.

  Danhoul affectionately smiled at her.

  “You will attend, won’t you?” Alainn asked again.

  “Maybe I could bring dessert,” Angelique finally said.

  “She bakes amazing desserts,” Tristan said.

  “She does,” Danhoul added, affectionately touching her shoulder and Angelique saw the looks the other witches gave them.

  “Why don’t you come back for supper tonight? Arianna, Alainn and Cal are great cooks and it seems silly everyone eating here together when you’re…” Ainsley began.

  “All alone?” Angelique finished.

  “I think she’s not entirely alone,” Arianna said looking from Angelique to Danhoul.

  Angelique knew the others had been thinking that, too.

  “That’s hardly our business, my wee witch,” Darius whispered.

  “But it is, Darius. If it causes disharmony later because it’s just a rebound attraction, it could affect all of us workin’ together.”

  “Angelique and I are adults. What our relationship is or isn’t, really shouldn’t be anyone’s concern,” Danhoul said in a tone Angelique had never heard from him.

  That definitely made the tension in the room palpable.

  “You’re super quiet, Tristan. You don’t have anything to say on the matter?” Angelique asked.

  “Just relieved you don’t seem so bloody sad. If Danny-Boy can offer you some happiness plus keep you from destroyin’ the place, I’m all for it.”

  “I need to go. No, it’s okay, Danhoul,” she said when he stood. “You stay.”

  She went out the door as fast as she could without looking like she was running away, which of course she was. Danhoul wanted to follow, but would respect her wishes. She really liked that about him. She liked a lot of things about him. He’d kissed her today and they’d actually nearly slept together again when he’d come to see h
er. He did make her feel better, but it wouldn’t happen again, not when the other witches seemed opposed and very protective of him. She was on the rebound.

  Crying fitfully by the time she got to her place, she didn’t know when the gods would need them or if she wanted to help them. And really, she didn’t even know if she wanted to keep breathing.

  *

  “What the hell was that?” Danhoul asked.

  “What was what?” Arianna replied.

  “You were a bit cool and judgmental,” he said.

  Darius, Killian and Cal shook their heads.

  “I don’t mean you guys. You seemed far more welcoming.”

  “I didn’t think I was unfriendly,” Ainsley said.

  “You did point out Angelique’s alone and like me, she hears thoughts. She likely heard all of you judging her.”

  “You’re quick to defend her, Danhoul and to make sure she’s not alone,” Arianna said.

  “We don’t want to see either of you hurt,” Alainn added.

  “I’m not trying to be judgmental,” Arianna said. “But sure Angelique’s on the rebound. If she loved Faolan as much as you claim, the two of you becomin’ close so soon after she’s lost him isn’t wise. She might regret it and you could be hurt. You like her more than you’re lettin’ on.”

  “I do. I really like her,” Danhoul said. “She’s a very special woman who’s gone through a lot. What the gods put her through was different than each of you. I’m not for one minute sayin’ anything they had you do was easy. I’ve seen how much each of you have suffered. But Angie does have to live without the man she loves knowing he’s in another century and doesn’t even remember her or anything they shared.”

  “I wish I remembered him,” Tristan said.

  “Faolan was my friend. He loved Angie as much as she loves him. They went through a lot in the time they were together,” Danhoul said.

  “There’s no hope of him being brought back to her?” Alainn asked.

  “What purpose would that serve if he doesn’t remember her?” Arianna questioned.

  “If they’re soulmates I suspect he’d fall in love with her again,” Alainn said. “It happened in every life we lived together with our men.”