A Witch's Tale

by Lowder, Maralee

  Instinctively, she raised her eyes to her mother. Myra had always been so full of wisdom, guiding her daughter through all the pitfalls of life with her down-to-earth common sense. But this time Cassie was not comforted by her mother’s presence. One glance at the face she knew so well confirmed her earlier fears. It didn’t take a mind reader to realize that Myra was not well.

  Before Cassie could speak, Myra rose to her feet. Reaching over to give first Naomi and then Mary Beth a quick hug, she began to bid her farewells.

  “Please don’t let me put a damper on the party but I’ve suddenly developed the worst headache.”

  Before the words were out of Myra’s mouth, Alan leaped to his feet, an expression of alarm on his face.

  “You’re sick. I knew it! I knew you weren’t ready to celebrate after all you’ve been through.”

  The distress in his voice touched Cassie’s heart. He was so devoted to her mother. What a pity it was that Myra could see him only as a friend when he clearly wanted to be so much more to her.

  “I’m taking you straight home. You need a good night’s rest. And in the morning I’m going to take you to see your doctor.”

  Myra’s attempt at protest was answered with a very firm, “No, I won’t hear a word of argument!”

  “There’s no arguing with him when he gets like this,” Myra said with a tired smile. “Sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself.”

  “When it comes to taking care of you, you can be assured I am the expert.” Cassie noted the possessiveness in his tone. Oh, dear, she thought, if only he would realize how much Mother hates being dominated. If he would lighten up a little, he might stand a chance at winning Myra’s heart.

  * * *

  Mac expected the party to break up after Myra and Alan left, but the other members of the coven seemed reluctant to part. After a few moments of desultory chatting, Naomi suggested that Mary Beth bring out her crystal ball and see if she could discover the answer to the mystery of who killed Reverend Elkins. Although they all knew such evidence would never impress Sheriff Whitaker, it might prove to be very enlightening just the same.

  Mac’s interest was piqued. Although he had always considered fortune telling to be nothing more than a charlatan’s trick, still and all actually sitting through such a session might prove useful to his story, so he was more than willing to join the women as they all filed into a small room off to the side of the parlor.

  The door they passed through had been closed throughout the evening and Mac had assumed it opened onto a closet. He would never have suspected that the door hid a room devoted solely to the reading of fortunes.

  “We call it skrying,” Cassie explained to Mac as they all crowded into the small room. “I think you’ll find it interesting. Mary Beth is really quite talented.”

  Naomi, Shelly and Edith followed the others, each carrying a small straight-backed chair. The only furnishings in the room were a small circular table flanked by two chairs similar to the ones now being brought in. The table was covered with a black velvet cloth. In the direct center was an object that was covered with a square of black silk. Mac supposed it was the crystal ball.

  His senses peaked with anticipation. So he was finally going to get what he had come for.

  “Here, take this chair,” Naomi offered Mac as Cassie, Shelly and Edith pulled up chairs to the table. “I’ll get another.”

  “Thanks, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather stand,” Mac answered. He wanted to be in a position to see as much as possible.

  “If you’re sure,” Naomi acquiesced, seating herself at the table with her Wiccan sisters.

  Mac leaned against the wall, settling in for the show. Sarge, intending to not miss out on anything, had followed him in and settled down on his favorite object, Mac’s right foot.

  Mac silently commended Mary Beth on the setting. It was everything a reading room should be - heavy curtains at the windows, the scent of incense burning, the only light that of flickering candles set in sconces on the walls. Did they hold séances here too, he wondered.

  Mary Beth removed the cloth from the crystal, folded it neatly and set it off to the side. Mac made himself comfortable, expecting to be entertained by some sort of dramatic reading, but it turned out to be nothing like he expected.

  No mysterious sounds filled the room. There was no sudden drop in temperature. The light, though subdued, was sufficient for Mac to see the crystal clearly from over Mary Beth’s shoulder. As far as he could see, nothing appeared in its depths.

  He shifted his position so that he could get a better view of the young witch’s face, a maneuver made more complicated by the mass of puppy that seemed to have taken permanent residence on his foot.

  Hands placed lightly on the table at each side of the ball, Mary Beth began exploring its depths. Everyone else in the room remained silent, all eyes riveted on her. A slight crease appeared between her brows as she focused her attention on the sphere.

  “I’m looking for an answer to the riddle of who killed that sweet old man. I’m not getting anything to suggest a solution, but something else seems to be happening here.”

  She shivered as if a blast of icy air had swept over her. Completely engrossed by what she saw in the crystal, Mary Beth appeared to be oblivious to everyone else in the room.

  “I see something evil, so evil my eyes turn from it. I can’t make myself see what it is but I do know that it is so near us that it could reach out and touch any one of us any time it wants to.”

  She shuddered in revulsion but did not turn away from the task she had set for herself.

  “The evil wants to destroy us all and it is sure it will succeed. I sense its glee at the suffering we will endure.”

  “What is it?”

  “Who is it?”

  Cassie and Shelly spoke at once.

  Mac’s attention was immediately drawn to Cassie. He heard the tension in her voice. Although this was a bunch of nonsense as far as he was concerned, her reaction to it troubled him.

  Not taking her eyes from the ball, Mary Beth gave a small but negative shake to her head.

  “It won’t let me see. It wants us to know about it - it feeds off our fear - but it won’t reveal itself.

  “It, it’s going to do something dreadful!” Her eyes widened as she peered even deeper into the depths of the crystal. “It’s going to be so terrible! But I can’t see what it is!”

  Mac was convinced that the anguish in Mary Beth’s voice was genuine. He became seriously concerned when he saw the throbbing of her pulse at her throat. Her fear was as real as anything he had ever seen. And then her expression turned from fear to dismay.

  “It’s gone! All I see are clouds ... black, swirling clouds.”

  Tears of frustration filled her eyes as she strained to see more but the images refused to reveal themselves. Finally, realizing that she could not force the images to return, she covered the ball with the silken cloth.

  Like everyone else in the room, Mac’s mind was filled with questions, but following the lead of the others, he kept his silence. He was the outsider here. What was proper etiquette at moments such as this, he wondered.

  “I, I’ve got to get home,” Cassie broke the silence. “It, it’s late, and ...” The expression in her eyes revealed emotions she could not suppress ... fear, worry, confusion.

  “No, don’t leave,” Naomi begged. “I wish all of you would stay here tonight. Please don’t go!”

  “If you really feel that way, I’ll be more than happy to stay,” Edith replied, relief obvious in her voice.

  “Well, I’ve got to get on home,” Shelly said. “Joe’s probably already mad as hell at my being so late. If he had to get Brian ready for school in the morning that would really rip it.” She rose to leave.

  “I’ll go with you,” Cassie said. “I’ll feel better after I see you safely inside your house.”

  “And who’s going to see you safely inside yours?” Mac asked.

&nb
sp; Cassie turned her gorgeous golden eyes on him, her expression stating clearly how pleased she was at his obvious concern.

  “Why, I expect you will,” she replied with just a hint of her usual mischievousness playing at the corners of her mouth.

  “You’ve got that right. I’m taking both of you ladies home, and that’s the end of it. If you had good sense, you’d stay right here, like Edith. Though I expect you’re safe enough from the spirits, I can’t say the same for your neighbors. But if you insist on going to that remote cabin in the woods of yours, I’ll be damned if I’ll let you go alone.”

  “Do you think someone should warn Myra about Mary Beth’s reading?” Shelly asked as she gathered up her handbag and sweater. “After all, she is all alone.”

  “If I know Alan, the man will be camped out in her living room while she sleeps off her headache. No, I think we ought to let her get a good night’s rest,” Cassie replied.

  It was nearly eleven o’clock when the trio left the bed and breakfast. Except for a couple of bars, every business in the small town had closed hours before. A nearly full moon glittered on the empty streets. Under normal circumstances the effect would have been charming, but tonight, after Mary Beth’s sinister predictions, the moon shadows, coupled with the death-like silence, made the skin on the back of Mac’s neck crawl.

  After dropping Shelly off, Mac turned his car up the lane that led to Cassie’s tiny home. Huge trees stood sentinel on each side of the narrow, winding road, shutting out most of the light from the moon.

  His headlights glittered off the windows as he pulled his car to a stop. When he’d been there before he had been struck by the warmth of the place, but not tonight. An icy shiver ran down his spine at the thought of Cassie sleeping alone in the isolated cabin.

  “You’re not leaving tonight.”

  The manner in which she spoke the words indicated neither a question nor a request, but rather a statement of known fact.

  “I’m not?”

  Cassie answered him by reaching out for his hand and leading him up the steps. As she pushed the door open, she turned to him with a smile so sweetly seductive he feared he might melt on the spot.

  “Not tonight. Tonight I’m going to have you all to myself. Tonight we’ll have a lifetime together.”

  Her words, spoken with that sexy, girl-woman voice of hers, were his undoing. All thoughts of refusing the kiss she offered slipped away in a haze of hunger. Even before the door had closed behind them, they were in each other’s arms, their mouths searching, tasting, devouring.

  He reached down to slip his hand under her shirt but she stopped him.

  “Not so fast”, she whispered provocatively. “I want you to undo the buttons, one by one.”

  Like a school boy with his first romance, Mac’s hands trembled as he followed her instructions. This was her game and he would play it by her rules. But damn, she was driving him crazy!

  Finally, after what seemed forever, the last button was loose. Slowly, almost reverently, he opened the shirt. His heart stopped beating for a millisecond, then began a rapid pounding in his chest. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

  “You’re not wearing a bra.” He nearly choked on the words.

  “I didn’t want it to get in the way,” Cassie whispered as she arched her back. Tipping her head back, her lips parted in anticipation as Mac proceeded to do justice to the gift she offered.

  A shaft of moonlight from the undraped window illuminated Mac’s face as he lowered Cassie to the couch. She gazed in wonder at the features she had come to love. The light, certainly her own special gift from the Goddess, stripped Mac’s features of their usual cynical expression. In this moment of perfect clarity, she saw past the hardened persona he exhibited to the rest of the world and found herself gazing into eyes filled with tenderness.

  Her lips parted as he came to her, capturing her waiting mouth in a searing kiss. Oh, yes. She had waited so long to feel their hardness soften against her lips. She welcomed the plunge of his tongue, winding hers with his, tasting him, savoring his very essence.

  With seeming magic she stripped away his shirt. Eager hands slipped over his body, tracing sinewy muscles, tangling in the mat of hair that formed a near perfect triangle on his chest.

  She gasped with delight as his hands found their way under her loose cotton skirt to the inside of her thighs. She purred her pleasure as he performed his own brand of magic on the tender flesh. Instinctively, she opened herself to him, inviting him to become one with her.

  The last remnants of clothing were tossed aside with utter disregard. Their need to see, to feel, to taste, had become their only reality.

  Suckling at first one delicious pink-tipped nipple and then the other, Mac’s hands explored the wondrous gift of her body. Starting at her rib cage, they slowly, deliberately, crept lower, past her waist, lingered delightfully at her abdomen, and finally found their goal. She felt his heart race as his fingers explored the hot, moist treasure.

  “Please, I can’t stand it if you make me wait another minute,” Cassie gasped.

  “Me either,” Mac sighed as he lifted himself over her, plunging himself deep within her. A shudder swept over him as, for the first time in his entire life, he felt he was where he truly belonged.

  Chapter 5

  “What the hell?”

  Mac jumped from the bed, his heart pounding a wild staccato. He stood there for a moment, trying to get his bearings. He was in a bedroom he’d never seen before, naked as the day he was born.

  Just as the recollection of the previous night began to register in his fogged brain, a loud pounding at the front door once again echoed through-out the small house.

  “What’s wrong?” Cassie sat up, clutching a rumpled sheet in front of her.

  “I don’t know. Stay where you are,” he ordered in a tone that suggested he expected to be obeyed.

  He spied his jeans laying in a heap on the living room floor. Before he could reach them the pounding began on the door again, accompanied by the sound of several male voices demanding entrance. He quickly pulled on his jeans and was reaching for the fireplace poker when he heard two words that caused him to drop it back on its holder. Those two words were “Sheriff’s Department”.

  He wasn’t sure which would have been worse news for Cassie, an unruly vigilante mob from town or Sheriff Whitaker’s boys. Either one meant trouble.

  He threw the bolt and opened the door just as two burly deputies with a battering ram were stepping back to gain the speed necessary to break the door down.

  “Sheriff’s Department!” a couple of the men yelled as a dozen more forced their way into the room. Before Mac knew what was happening, he found himself on the floor, with his wrists roughly handcuffed.

  “Hey! What’s going on?”

  “If you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut, buddy,” one of the uniformed deputies advised him none too gently. “You already got yourself in more trouble than the law allows.”

  Two of the officers grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him, then shoved him down on the couch. He watched helplessly as several of the men rushed into Cassie’s bedroom.

  He fought off a surge of rage at the thought of what their eyes must now be feasting on. He prayed that she had had enough time to have at least slipped on a robe.

  “Looks like you two were having a little party,” one of the two men left to guard him said.

  Mac bit back his anger at the suggestive tone in the man’s voice.

  “I can’t say as I blame you, buddy. With her looks, any man would be only too willing to try his luck, even if she is a witch. But you picked yourself the wrong squeeze this time. This one’s a black widow spider and you’re lucky you’re still alive.”

  “Maybe not so lucky. He looks more like an accomplice than a victim to me,” his partner observed. “My bet is the Sarge takes him in too.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion at the bedroom doo
r as eight deputies tried to exit at the same time, shoving a handcuffed Cassie before them.

  Mac’s first thought was relief that she had been able to slip on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt before the men had invaded her privacy. But that thought was quickly followed by the realization that a great deal more was at stake than Cassie’s modesty.

  What the hell was happening?

  “Cassandra Adams, I’ve got a warrant here for your arrest. I also have a warrant to search your premises. Do you understand?”

  Her only response was an expression of total confusion. Mac’s stomach clenched as he gazed into her eyes, the pupils wide with shock.

  Not bothering to wait for her answer, the men set about their task of searching every square inch of Cassie’s home. She and Mac sat side-by-side on the living room sofa as her privacy was savagely destroyed.

  “I’m afraid you’re a fallen man,” she said at last, a wry tone to her voice. “It wouldn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out what happened here last night.” She nodded at the clothes that still lay where they had been tossed. “The town gossips will have a field day with this.”

  “The hell with them. Why should I care what a bunch of idiots have to say? It’s not gossip I’m worried about. There’s something a lot more serious going on here than a little gossip.

  “I think I got something here, Sarge,” one of the men called from Cassie’s bedroom.

  Mac turned to Cassie, his brow tightening into a scowl when he saw the book in the officer’s hand.

  “What’s that - her diary?” the sergeant asked as he reached out for the book.

  “You’ll have to ask the lady. It’s written in some sort of hieroglyphics or something.”

  “Would you like to tell me exactly what this book is?” The sergeant held the book out to Cassie.