Freaky Witches (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 7)

by Amanda M. Lee

  I directed him toward the bed, and he stripped out of his shirt and pants without prodding. I followed suit, although once we were in bed I forced him to his back and rested my hand on his heart rather than immediately engaging in romance.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, curious. “I thought we were ... you know.”

  I couldn’t swallow my chuckle. “We will. I need you to relax for me, though.” His heart rate was higher than normal, which worried me. “Close your eyes.”

  He made a face. “Are you about to get kinky?”

  “I might, but I want you to calm yourself first.”

  He sighed but did as I instructed, one hand coming to rest on top of mine as he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Are you about to tell me I’m being ridiculous?”

  “No.” That was true. “I’m about to tell you that you can’t let the way we live our lives overwhelm you.” I kept my voice soft, hoping to soothe him. Maybe even lull him. I was up for romance if that’s what it would take, but I was also eager for him to relax, and there were myriad ways for that to happen. “I’m afraid for you,” I admitted after a beat. “You’re letting what happened overrule everything that you are.”

  He shifted his head but kept his eyes closed. I could see his profile thanks to the streetlight that offered illumination through the bedroom window. “You’re saying that you don’t like how I’ve been acting. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything.”

  “It feels as if you are.”

  “Then you’re misreading the situation.” I drew a symbol with my fingertip over his heart. It was an ancient rune that represented peace. “I care about you a great deal and I want this to work.” We still weren’t saying the L-word. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I wasn’t brave enough to utter it … yet.

  His eyes popped open. “And you think it won’t?”

  “I didn’t say that.” His nerves were so intense I was starting to feel them invade my skin. “I can’t lie about being worried, though. What you did in California was ... impressive.”

  “It didn’t feel impressive. It felt ... scary, as if something clawed its way free from inside of me. I don’t know how to describe it.”

  “Close your eyes,” I repeated.

  He groaned but acquiesced. “I don’t want to become a monster.”

  “You can’t become a monster,” I said. “It’s not in you. Look at Gillian Dodd. She was forced to become a wendigo. Everything we know about wendigos says that they should become soulless beings upon transformation. She didn’t because she didn’t want to be a monster.”

  “She was still forced to kill.”

  “But she held true to herself,” I reminded him, tracing the rune again. “She managed to remember who she was, hold to the beliefs that she grew up with, and remain strong. She made friends when she shouldn’t have been able to do it. She protected those she loved when it should’ve been impossible.”

  “I get what you’re saying.” His voice became softer as I continued to trace the rune. “I don’t want to become a monster who strives to be human, though. I want to be me, the man here with you who would never purposely hurt an innocent.”

  “You are that.”

  “Am I? I don’t feel as if I had control of what happened in California. I killed, and I didn’t feel guilty about it at the time.”

  “You killed a threat,” I reminded him, my finger moving steadily across his muscled chest. The power I was emitting was slowly being absorbed. I could tell by the way his breathing deepened. He was going to sleep on his own, and it would be peaceful, without fear. I was determined to make it happen. “The threat was real, and we could’ve died during that fight. You know that.”

  He sighed. “I would kill a hundred times over to protect you. That’s what scares me most.”

  “And I would do the same for you.” I felt that to my bones. “We won’t be forced into that situation at every turn. The key is to work together to overcome our obstacles, not constantly kill to protect each other. I won’t say that’s never going to happen, but you’ll come to see that’s the exception rather than the rule.”

  “I don’t know that I can keep up with all the rules,” he said, his breath deepening as sleep began stalking him. “How do you tell the difference between good witches and bad ones?”

  “The bad ones try to kill you.”

  He chuckled, the sound low and throaty. “How else?”

  “You have the tools inside to recognize friend and foe,” I pointed out. “You’re a mage. Your father is a strong mage, the strongest I’ve ever come across, in fact. They say there are stronger mages, but I’ve never met one.

  “The thing is, you have someone here who can teach you about control,” I continued. “I know you’re still struggling with the fact that Max never told you he was your father. You mourned a man who never existed, and your mother and Max perpetrated a hoax on you for your entire life.

  “Max is a good man,” I said. “He loves you. He was trying to give you a normal life. Your mother died before you could question her, and that’s a big rip that’s likely not to be mended. You’ll eventually move past it.

  “I don’t want you living in fear. It’s not good for you, for us. I can’t force you to let it go. That’s something you have to decide yourself. Max is here, and he’s not going anywhere. You’re here, and you’re not going anywhere. Perhaps you should work together.”

  He was quiet for so long I assumed he’d fallen asleep, which was a bit disappointing. I wanted him to have a peaceful night, but I also wanted to get this conversation out of the way. It looked like only one of those things would happen.

  When he finally spoke, I almost jolted. Instead, I managed to hold it together and keep drawing the rune.

  “You think I should let Max teach me.”

  “I think you should let him try,” I agreed. “It can’t hurt, and if you let go of some of the fear ruling you, it can only help. You made a choice to stay in this life. Sometimes I worry you made the choice for me rather than yourself, but you’re in it now. I think you should try to live the best life possible.”

  Another sigh. “I really do adore you.”

  I smiled, warmth enveloping me. “I adore you, too.” The words had their own magic, and it was a soothing balm as it washed over both of us.

  “I’ll talk to Max tomorrow, at least mention it to him,” Kade said, moving his hand so it was around my waist. “Now I need sleep. I ... need you. Put your head on my chest.”

  I smiled to myself as I stretched out beside him and rested my ear above his heart. “Thank you.”

  “I’m doing it for us. I think we both need it.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  We were asleep within seconds. We needed that, too.

  I WOKE IN THE MIDDLE of the night, something ripping me from a pleasant dream that involved Kade, a picnic and stars that showered us with glitter.

  I took a moment to absorb my surroundings. Kade slept deeply beside me, his chest rhythmically rising and falling. He didn’t stir, which meant he hadn’t heard anything.

  So what woke me?

  I flicked my eyes to the window and stared at the darkness. My inner clock told me it was after midnight, the dead zone of the night, and Hemlock Cove was completely quiet and devoid of movement.

  There was nothing out there. I’d almost convinced myself of that and was going to return to slumber when a shadow flitted past the window.

  I rolled to a sitting position and peered hard, looking for a figure I was convinced I’d seen. There was no additional movement, but my inner danger alarm was emitting a low hum. That meant something was out there, watching. I had to figure out what that something was.

  I briefly rested my fingers on Kade’s forehead and whispered a suggestion that sleep was his friend. If he truly wanted to wake, he would. I felt it was important for him to sleep through the night on his own without fear, so I left him behind as I slipp
ed from beneath the covers.

  I found flip-flops by the front door and slid them on, being careful to make as little noise as possible as I let myself out of the trailer. I expected to be alone when I hit trailer row, but I could see something – someone, really – walking toward me.

  “Raven?” My voice was barely a whisper.

  She nodded as she tightened her robe sash. “There’s something out here,” she said, matching my tone.

  “I know. It woke me from a dead sleep.”

  She looked over my outfit, which I’d forgotten to cover. Thankfully I tended to sleep in boxer shorts and a T-shirt, so I wasn’t revealing too much. “I take it you didn’t get any loving tonight. Is Kade still messed up over what happened in Eureka?”

  I nodded. There was no sense in lying. Raven was intuitive, and she had a specific skill set. She would know regardless. “He’s afraid he’ll turn into a monster.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He needs to get over that. The power he wielded that night we were attacked was impressive. I think we would’ve been fine without him, but he stepped in at the exact right time and saved us from bloodshed. I don’t know why he’s not proud of his actions.”

  “Because he didn’t know paranormal beings were real until he met us,” I said, moving past my trailer and standing in the open as I studied the area where I was convinced I’d seen something stirring minutes before. “He had barely wrapped his mind around that when he found out Max was his father, but magical, too. It was a hard blow.”

  “I remember. He didn’t speak to you for weeks. I thought I had a chance with him.”

  I cast her a derisive look. “Can we please not go back to that time? I was miserable and considered murdering you in your sleep.”

  Instead of being offended, Raven grinned. “I know. That was a great time for me. I enjoyed watching you suffer.”

  “I thought you were happy with Percival.”

  “I am. Chill out.” Raven narrowed her eyes. “This way.” She pointed west.

  “Are you sure?” It wasn’t that I doubted her. Sometimes her senses were more in tune than mine and I accepted that. But I didn’t want to risk losing whatever was stalking us from behind the dreamcatcher line. “I thought I saw something over there when I first woke.”

  “I’m sure. There’s nothing there now.”

  “Okay.” I fell into step with her as we moved toward the midway workers’ trailers. “What do you think it is?”

  “I have no idea, and that’s what bothers me,” Raven replied. “I can usually get a sense of interlopers, even if it’s a random evil human. Whatever is out there is different.”

  “It senses the dreamcatcher line,” I said. “I ... .” I trailed off when I saw another dark flutter. It was accompanied by a flash at the far end of the fairgrounds. “That’s where the body was found.”

  “Come on.” Raven broke into a run and we raced toward the light, prepared to do battle. All thoughts of fighting fled when we came upon four figures standing in the dark. They were all whispering, and none of them looked happy.

  “This is a bad idea,” one of them hissed. “You know I don’t like wandering around in the dark. That only makes it easier for Bigfoot to get us.”

  “Oh, shut up, Clove,” another voice demanded. “I hate it when you turn whiny.”

  Raven and I exchanged amused looks as we stepped closer. The movement was enough to cause four heads to snap in our direction.

  Tillie, Bay, Clove and Thistle stood in the spot where Darren’s body was discovered. If they were surprised at being caught, they didn’t show it. Okay, Clove showed it a little. She looked unbelievably nervous. The rest merely met our curious gazes with challenging ones of their own.

  “Can we help you?” Tillie asked.

  I folded my arms over my chest. “We heard noises, people creeping about.”

  “I don’t creep, so you must be looking for someone else.”

  Raven snorted. “We also saw sparks, like perhaps someone was conducting magic. Do you want to explain that?”

  Tillie was defiant as she met Raven’s gaze. “Do you want to explain this net thing you guys have cast to cover the ground? Yeah, we sensed that. It’s a rather intricate form of magic. I’m impressed.”

  “We’re impressed by the yellow snow stories,” I offered, smirking when Thistle rolled her eyes.

  “I told you those stories were going to come back and haunt us, old lady,” Thistle complained. “You just had to mess with Mrs. Little.”

  Tillie’s expression was withering. “Oh, don’t even. You enjoy dumping yellow snow on her driveway just as much as I do. You suggest it half the time.”

  “I was a child,” Thistle sputtered.

  “You suggested it four times this past winter. Were you a child then?”

  “No. It was a long and boring winter.”

  I chuckled. “What is it you’re doing?” I asked finally, stepping beyond the safety of the dreamcatcher and joining them. If they were dangerous, I was convinced I would sense it. Now I was simply curious.

  “We’re trying to figure out what killed Darren,” Tillie answered. “We think it was a ritual killing.”

  “It was definitely a ritual killing,” Raven offered, joining me. “Somebody carved a symbol into his head.”

  “Did you recognize the symbol?”

  “No.” Raven shook her head. “We could research it.”

  “I was going to research but we went shopping instead,” I said. “I thought the police were handling the investigation.”

  “I’m smarter than ‘The Man,’” Tillie countered. “I think this one might be above their pay grade.”

  “So ... you help the police?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “We’re independent contractors of sorts.”

  Bay made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “We are not. They don’t want our help. We snuck out to take a look, and we’re going to be in trouble if we’re caught.”

  “That’s what I said,” Clove complained. “You didn’t listen when I said it, though. You said, ‘Oh, Clove is being a baby again.’ Well, I’m not being a baby. Bay thinks the same thing, but you don’t call her a baby.”

  “Bay is a different sort of baby,” Tillie said. “You’re still the big baby, Clove. You’ve had that title wrapped up since you were six.”

  “I don’t know why I go on these adventures with you people,” Clove muttered, jutting out her lower lip. “I get absolutely no respect.”

  “There’s a reason for that,” Thistle said dryly, her eyes locking with mine. “What are you? I know you’re something. Aunt Tillie said she got a power reading off you that was ... off the charts. Those were her words.”

  “I’m a fortune teller.”

  “You’re more than that,” Thistle pressed.

  “I’m ... different. Like you,” I said finally. “I’m not a witch, but I have a few abilities.”

  “And what about you?” Thistle fixed her full attention on Raven. “I have a feeling that the two of you are out here because you’re the most powerful.”

  “I wouldn’t underestimate anyone in our group,” Raven countered. “We’re all powerful.”

  “Except for the clowns,” I added. “They’re just clowns.”

  “Which means they’re evil,” Bay muttered.

  I couldn’t exactly argue with that, so I merely shrugged. “I think we should have a talk. There are things to discuss.”

  “There are,” Tillie agreed. “But not tonight. We thought we could cast a spell to track how the body got here since Darren was killed elsewhere, but we had to substitute some ingredients because my nieces are morons.” She gave Thistle a disgusted look. “You need to do better when ordering herbs.”

  Thistle rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  “We have to get back,” Bay offered. “People will miss us if we’re gone too long.”

  I knew exactly who would miss her. “Does that mean Landon will get angry if he kn
ows you’re sticking your nose into his murder investigation?”

  “He’ll be ... difficult to deal with,” she hedged.

  “Don’t worry about that.” Tillie offered a dismissive wave of her hand. “He can be bribed with bacon and Bay’s giggles. He’s a total softie.”

  I smiled. “Well, we still need to talk.”

  “We’ll swing around tomorrow morning,” Thistle offered. “We’ll be early, so we expect some of that magical coffee you have. Be ready, because we’ll have questions.”

  “I was about to say the same to you.”

  Thistle smirked. “I’m always ready.”

  Something told me that wasn’t an exaggeration.

  9

  Nine

  Kade woke well rested, and the smile he gave me when shifting to stare down at my face was almost miraculous.

  “Hey, baby.” His voice was low and throaty.

  “Hi.” I returned the smile and tested his heart rate. It was back to the reliable beat of before. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good. I slept well.”

  “And without the potion.”

  “Yeah, well ... .” He broke off, sheepish.

  “It’s okay.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t really have the potion the first night either.” It was time to be truthful. “I mean, you drank something from a bottle, but it wasn’t magical. I simply told you it was.”

  His smile slipped. “What?”

  “You didn’t need the potion.” I refused to back down. “You’re fine. You’re strong. You’ll never hurt me. I knew you needed sleep, though, so I told you the potion would ensure you got it. You believed … so you slept.”

  “You lied?”

  Lies were something of a touchy subject between us. I lied to him after finding out Max was his father, and that caused our estrangement. I promised I wouldn’t lie again. I’d meant it. But in this particular case, I wasn’t sorry.

  “I didn’t lie,” I lied. “I told you the potion would help you sleep, and it did. You needed the sleep. I would’ve done it sooner if I realized how little you were sleeping.”