by Cassandra
“What? How is that even possible?” Jessica shook her head. She had gathered some time ago that the magic world was a strange place, but some things were too much to believe.
“Oh, believe it, honey.” Betty clapped her hands. “Ethel and Maximus were a force to be reckoned with. Any demons that had the misfortune of running into them were toast. Those creatures wound up dead so quickly that they didn’t know what hit them. They’re probably still sitting in hell right now, wondering what the hell happened.”
The other women laughed and agreed enthusiastically.
Jessica was too stunned to be impressed. She still tried to figure out how a thirty-year-old had been her eighty-two-year-old grandmother’s first husband.
Is time travel a thing too? she wondered and stared at the ladies. She now wondered if they had all actually de-aged themselves or if they had created some kind of time-warp.
Ethel crossed the room to peer out the window and watched quietly as Max’s car drove off.
“Look at her, trying to be modest.” Susan snickered. “Trying to turn her back to us so that we can’t see her blushing over her first love.”
“Ain’t nobody blushing, you old floozy!” Ethel retorted, but she kept her back turned, nevertheless.
“Remember that epic night they had all those years ago on Halloween?” Gertrude asked and bounced on the balls of her feet.
The house broke out in excited mutters all over again. Jessica watched and listened to the ladies to catch snippets of the story when she could. From what she could gather, her grandma and this man had gone on a Bonnie and Clyde style killing spree. They took out a whole gang of demons that had descended upon their town one Halloween. By midnight, not a single creature was left alive.
“And what made it so bad,” Susan bubbled, “is that since it was Halloween, the police and people out in the streets couldn’t tell what was real and what was not. And then came Ethel and Max, guns and weapons a-blazing, and they took out demons left and right. Kids ran around screaming and their parents laughed, thinking it was some kind of elaborate Halloween prank. Like it was a planned magic show or something. And the poor police officers didn’t know what to do. Hey, Ethel, what did y’all do about the police?”
“She put a memory charm on them. Some of those police officers are still around and they don’t remember a thing about that night. You know how Ethel does it. She can wipe a mundane mind clean as a whistle.” Betty whistled for emphasis.
“Sometimes, I wish I could wipe your minds as clean as a whistle,” Ethel grumbled dramatically.
“Oh, Ethel, stop being such a spoil-sport. I’m surprised you haven’t told your granddaughter these stories. What are you hiding them for?”
“Ain’t nobody hiding nothing. There’s no point with you all hanging around, anyway. I see you’re more than happy to announce my business on your own without my help.”
“Oh, boy, it sounds like we’ve touched a nerve.”
“All right, that’s enough.” She had spoken with her back to the room. Now, she turned and when her face was visible, they could see the rosiness in her cheeks was long gone. “Stop living in the past.” She put her hands on her hips. “I want to know why Max was really here. He knows good and well I’m not interested in rejoining the coven. If he didn’t want to talk about rogue witches, then why?”
“Oh, Ethel, stop it. We all know you’re not that naïve.” Betty rolled her eyes. “That man would have agreed to come here for almost any reason. It was simply an excuse for him to see you. If we told him you needed help to tie your damned shoe-strings, he would have shown up.”
A fit of laughter broke out in the room. Ethel shot a nasty glare all around, but even she couldn’t find the strength to keep it up. Her lips shifted the crack of a smile as she fought to keep herself from joining in with the laughter.
The only person who didn’t laugh was Jessica. She was still hung up on one particular detail. “Grandma. That was your first…husband?” Her face contorted in confusion.
“Girl, I’m sure he was close to being your grand-pappy,” Sharyl teased. “Handsome as ever, ain’t he? Ooh-wee! We should have made ourselves look even younger, ladies. We should have looked like Jessica.”
“You’ve got that right,” Betty agreed. She shook a finger at Ethel. “He came over looking his finest because he knew you’d be here, of course!”
The old lady shook her head. “Max always was a show-off. Here he is in the twenty-first century, looking exactly the same as he did the day I met him. That old fool.”
Understanding finally dawned on Jessica. It made sense. Max had clearly worn a glamor. He had de-aged himself exactly as the women had.
She sighed but couldn’t help laughing and felt a lot better about the situation. In retrospect, she should have known no man that age really talked and behaved the way Max did.
“Well, he can come here for a meeting anytime.” Betty wiggled her eyebrows. “The door is always open to him, ain’t that right, Ethel?”
“Shut up,” her grandmother replied and everyone broke into another hysterical fit of laughter.
“Anywho,” Betty said as the laughter died down, “as much as I enjoyed having dear ol’ Max in my humble abode, I can’t help but think he wasn’t entirely upfront with us.”
Ethel nodded, her brow furrowed. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that. The one thing I learned a little too late was how to tell when that man is lying or hiding something. I can definitely tell you he’s hiding something now.”
“You mean other than his feelings for you?” Tori smirked at her.
“One more wisecrack like that from any of you and I’ll chop you up and feed you to my cats with their kibble.”
“Grace wouldn’t let you,” Tori retorted.
“All right now, ladies. Focus.” Betty turned back to Ethel. “Now, what do you think he’s hiding, exactly?”
“It beats me. I said I can tell when he’s lying, but I never know what he’s lying about.” Ethel shrugged. “Trying to figure that man out gives me a headache. It always has. I’m tired of thinking about him already. The one thing that hasn’t changed about him is his knack for giving me a headache. Whatever he’s got up his sleeve is bound to come out eventually.”
“Will you rip his shirt off to find it?” Betty asked.
Jessica had to fight to keep herself from gagging.
“Enough!” her grandmother yelled. She conjured up a chair and flopped into it.
Laughing, the rest of the ladies followed suit and made themselves comfortable around the dining room table and the living room couch. Before Jessica even noticed it was happening, knitting supplies had appeared out of thin air.
Ethel chuckled. “You didn’t think we’d get together without doing some knitting, did you?” she asked when she noticed the expression on her granddaughter’s face. “You might as well sit down and make yourself comfortable. We’ll be here for a while.”
Oh, great.
“I can tell you more about your grandmother and Max, if you’d like,” Sharyl offered. She grinned wickedly.
“Oh no, you most certainly cannot.” Ethel wagged her finger at the woman.
Jessica laughed and shook her head. “That’s all right. I think I got the gist of it.”
If she was honest with herself, she was still a little weirded out by Max. She supposed that if she had seen him looking his actual age it would have been easier to digest the fact that he had been married to her grandma.
“Maybe Max is trying to recreate the super team that you and he once were, Ethel,” Betty mused. “That might be his hidden agenda. Maybe it’s not so hidden after all. Everyone can see how much he wants you back in the coven. He probably misses the way the two of you were back in your glory days.”
“Maybe he’s putting together a whole army,” Susan speculated.
“Or maybe he needs teachers for the new generation,” Miss Mabel put in and nodded toward Jessica to emphasize her point.
&n
bsp; The circle of ladies continued to throw ideas out as they tried to guess what Max could be up to. Only Ethel remained silent.
Jessica took her phone out and began to scroll through her social media accounts to keep herself occupied. All the while, she snuck glances at her grandmother. Ethel was in the process of knitting some sort of doll. The last time Jessica had seen the old lady with a doll, it was the voodoo imp doll. She had given it to Jessica after the three young witches of Bishop Fenwick High School sent an imp to her house that flooded her bathroom. After her grandma gave her the doll, she had felt safer. That is until she learned the hard way that it was powerless against demons.
She wondered what kind of doll Grandma Ethel was making this time around. The old lady knitted so quickly that Jessica couldn’t get a good look at it. The very second that she finished it, she stuffed it into her purse without letting anyone see it.
While the ladies knitted and chatted, Jessica’s mind began to wander. She found herself thinking about Pastor Norman again. Now, she had more reason than ever to want to talk to him. Not only did she have the same questions as before, but she also wanted to ask him about Max. If he was the leader of the coven, then surely the pastor would know all about him.
She had visited the coven’s headquarters not long ago with Pastor Norman when a friend of theirs was hurt in a demon attack. Her brow wrinkled in thought, she tried to think back to that day. Had Max been there? She couldn’t recall seeing him, but she had been far too worried about Andy at the time to remember the specific faces that she had seen at the headquarters.
Maybe Pastor Norman would be able to shed some light on Max’s mysterious visit to the knitting circle. He might even know what Max was hiding. How much did he know about the coven anyway?
Speaking of the coven, what exactly was Chad up to these days? It had been a while since Jessica had heard from him after he stopped attending school.
Lately, it seemed he couldn’t be bothered to return any of her calls and texts either.
Max said Chad would be back soon. So I guess that’s something to look forward to, she thought. Gloomily, she put her phone away, resigned to the fact that there was nothing for her to do but watch the old ladies knit.
It was always nerve-wracking to speak with the elders of the coven, but even more so when they didn’t see eye-to-eye with you.
Chad Hollingsworth took a deep breath and tried to keep his cool. He respected the elders and what they represented to the magic community, but he was kidding himself if he didn’t admit that they were sometimes a little too stuck in their ways. A little too old fashioned.
A little too unwilling to listen to younger voices, in other words.
“Please, I’m telling you,” he reasoned, extra careful to keep his voice steady. “Something clearly isn’t right. These demon attacks are not normal, by any stretch of the imagination. You have to see that.”
“There have always been rogue witches, Mr. Hollingsworth,” one of the female elders reminded him. “This is nothing new.”
“I understand that, but the demon attacks have steadily become more frequent—and more dangerous. And they aren’t only happening here and there. They’re happening all over the world. I’ve been in contact with friends in different parts of the country and in different countries altogether. They’ve all noticed the same patterns that I have. Something’s up. Something bad. The demons are far too active.”
“Mr. Hollingsworth,” an elder interrupted, “since the beginning of time, rogue witches have always behaved as rogue witches do. They cause havoc, and we step in and intervene when necessary. We police them as much as possible, but it isn’t practical to dedicate more time to this than necessary. Rogue witches are bothersome, but they are merely a part of life.”
Chad sighed. He clearly hadn’t been heard. He looked around the table at the elders and stoically endured all their stares of disapproval.
Knowing there was no way to convince these people, he merely nodded.
Obviously, he would have to investigate the issue on his own. Once he came up with solid, indisputable proof that something was wrong, they wouldn’t be able to keep those smug expressions on their faces.
The demon ordered a strawberry sundae at the counter.
Pastor Norman stood in the doorway and stared at it. He had been there long enough that he had begun to attract attention from the other customers. They glanced at him from their tables and clearly wondered why he had burst through the doors of the ice cream shop only to freeze like a deer caught in headlights.
Pastor Norman swallowed, unsure of what to do.
He didn’t want to let the demon out of his sight. He wanted nothing more than to retrieve the bottle of holy water from his pocket and shove it down the creature’s throat. Then, he could watch it burn and disintegrate into a pile of ashes and maybe, he would get some mint chocolate chip ice cream in a waffle cone. If only he wasn’t lactose intolerant.
Obviously, dissolving the demon with holy water wasn’t an option with parents and toddlers everywhere. If they were to witness something like that, the resulting commotion would cause mass hysteria. They would think it was the end of the world and try to capture videos of the event on their phones. CNN would soon broadcast news stories about how Armageddon had started in an ice cream parlor.
Pastor Norman flinched as the bell chimed behind him. A young couple entered the shop. He moved out of their way and his face grew warm. The couple’s entrance only called more attention to the fact that he still stood there like an idiot. The clerks behind the counter now stared at him—and probably wondered what he was doing there if he didn’t intend to buy ice cream.
Placing an order was the perfect solution, of course. That would even put him closer to the demon currently at the counter. He didn’t have to eat the ice cream, he only had to buy it.
I haven’t had ice cream in forever, he thought. Maybe one scoop won’t hurt.
His mind now made up, the pastor walked to the end of the line and prayed along the way.
One of the clerks behind the counter was preparing the sundae for the Aquiel. The demon stood at the front of the line and tapped his foot happily while he waited.
Pastor Norman eyed the sundae as it was handed to the creature. It sure looks good.
His mouth watered slightly despite the circumstances. When the clerk asked him what he wanted, Pastor Norman pointed at the demon’s ice cream sundae. “I’ll take one of those as well.”
“Okay. Coming right up, sir.”
The Aquiel looked at him and smiled as he paid for his ice cream. What was his game? He kept the demon in view as it found a seat.
Once he had his own ice cream in hand, Pastor Norman selected a seat at a table adjacent to the demon. He took a deep breath and hefted a spoonful of ice cream. Flavor exploded on his tongue and he accidentally groaned. He felt certain that he would pay for eating something so delicious later.
Anything that tasted so good had to be evil. That was probably why the Aquiel had ordered it.
As he continued to eat the sundae, he was astonished to find that he felt all right. There was no discomfort in his stomach. No tale-tell bubbling in his gut. No stomach cramps.
God is looking out for me today, he thought. He looked at his treat for a moment. He’d already eaten half of it despite having told himself that he would only have a bite or two.
His target still lingered in the parlor, which meant he had to stay. He obviously couldn’t simply sit at the table and hold ice cream that he didn’t eat. Besides, his stomach still felt all right.
There’s no sense wasting good ice cream, he told himself and proceeded to eat the rest of his sundae.
He and the demon finished their ice cream at the same time. Talk about perfect timing.
As the Aquiel stood and left the shop, Pastor Norman pushed quickly to his feet. Now was his chance.
The family at the table next to him smiled. He returned the smile. “Have a blessed day,” he said
and hurried out, determined not to lose sight of his quarry.
He stepped outside and spotted the demon immediately. Quickening his pace, Pastor Norman caught up to the man as he passed the entrance to an alley. The pastor lunged at him.
The creature gasped in surprise as he gripped him under the arms and dragged him into the alley.
“Hey,” the man protested.
“I’m not letting you get away this time,” Pastor Norman growled through gritted teeth. He slammed the Aquiel against the rear of an abandoned building.
“Let go of me.”
Undeterred, he raised his free hand and conjured a ball of white light in his palm. “Release!” he bellowed and commanded the demon to leave the man. He began to chant while he retrieved the bottle of holy water from his pocket.
“What are you doing, man? Let go of me! Let me go.” The man sputtered as the pastor threw the water in his face, careful to get some in his mouth.
The man tried to spit the water out and began to choke—choke, not burn. He didn’t fizzle down to ashes. Pastor Norman stepped back and a cold chill ran down his spine. The man stared at him, shocked and confused.
What kind of devil’s magic is this? he thought, shocked. He had never seen a demon so unaffected by holy water before.
“You’re crazy, man.” The demon rushed away, still wiping holy water from his face.
From outside the alley, the pastor heard someone whistling. It was the same happily eerie tune the creature had whistled as he left the church grounds.
Except it now came from someone else.
Pastor Norman spun around in an effort to see who was whistling. The street was crowded, and he couldn’t spot the whistler, but he knew what had happened. The Aquiel had jumped into a different body. He had probably left the man before he had entered Betty’s Ice Cream Parlor. It might have been a Sunday, but Pastor Norman couldn’t help swearing again.
Chapter Six
“I’ll see you girls next time. I need to get some errands done. Come on, Jess.” Ethel stood and stretched her legs before she picked up her purse and headed to the door.