I rolled onto my side, spooling the blanket around me.
“Maggie Mae…”
The whispers echoed around my bedroom, like raindrops falling into a dozen buckets. I clutched the blankets to my chest as my eyes fell to the rocker. It was unoccupied and mercifully still.
But the whispers continued, growing in volume, until they filled the room like a rampant heartbeat.
Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. MAGGIE!
“Shane!”
The whispers ceased.
I looked around the room, sliding my wand from atop the dresser. It didn’t react. Next, I reached behind me and opened the window, expecting to find his spirit wandering the garden. But all was quiet outside.
“Shane?” I whispered urgently in the dark, trying not to frighten him off. “Where are you?”
The only answer was the hum of the air conditioner and the old pipes rattling in the cellar.
My door began to open, creaking ever so slowly ajar.
My wand brightened... and the baby monitor flashed.
I snatched the monitor. Someone stood over Montana’s crib––a dark figure with gnarled hands, reaching for my son!
I tripped over my blanket as I fought my way out of bed, landing hard on the floor. I reclaimed my footing and scrambled towards the nursery as Michael bounded down the attic stairs and Eve’s door flew open. Without a word, they raced behind me. We all burst into the nursery together. I flipped on the light switch but the room remained dark.
A dark mist hovered beside Montana’s crib. It turned towards me as I bore down upon it. The specter’s hair was a mass of tangles, long and wormlike and slithering. Its eyes were rubies against a black velvet backdrop.
Juliana Benbridge!
“Go away!” I commanded, pushing at her. My arm slid, without resistance, into her chest. There was nothing within, only the chill of death.
Michael snatched up Montana while Eve grabbed Mother’s spell book.
I retracted my hand, feeling Juliana’s icy touch wind its way up through my fingers and coiling around my arms.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
My grandmother smiled as her opaque hands reached for her own throat. I understood in that moment that she desperately wanted to tell me something, and I knew we wouldn’t be rid of her until her truth came out.
“Juliana, were you choked?” I asked urgently. “Or hung?”
Her smile wilted. She offered me a pitiable look before melting into thin air, dissipating into the blackness of the room. The temperature rapidly dropped... and moments later, all felt normal again. The overhead light snapped on and the mobile over the crib resumed its slow spin.
Eve’s face was ashen as she studied Mother’s book.
“I’m sorry, Maggie. I couldn’t find a spell in time. But I think I know how to keep that thing out of this house for good now.” There was a fire in my sister’s eyes, a look of rare determination.
I nodded quickly, my chest constricting. “He’s safe now,” I whispered, caressing my son’s tiny fingers.
“What the hell was that thing?” Michael demanded, rocking Montana in his arms.
“Our grandmother.”
“Yes,” Eve agreed. “She was hazy, but it was definitely her.”
Michael laughed uneasily. “Maybe she just came to see her great-grandson?”
“Well, she’ll have to phone ahead next time,” Eve said, her fingers traveling up and down the pages of Mother’s book. “We need to find mushrooms that only grow during a harvest moon, and whiskers from a dead cat. I think we have all the other stuff at the shop.”
“Whiskers from a dead cat?” My stomach soured, remembering the thatch of cat hair in Montana’s hand.
“Don’t worry, Mags. I’ll handle it,” Eve said.
I felt an intense wave of love for my younger sister. “Thank you. I just wish I knew what Juliana wanted. She keeps clutching her throat. Do you think she was murdered?”
“Mom would have known if she was,” Eve attempted to reassure me. “She would have told us.”
I wasn’t so sure. Judging by the globes, there were many stories Mother hadn’t told any of us.
Michael cleared his throat and placed our sleeping son back into his crib. “Maggie, you’re positive this is your grandmother?”
“What do you mean?”
He fingered the cross dangling from the chain around his neck. “There are malevolent entities who hide in the guise of a spirit. An entity masquerading as another entity, if you will.”
“But why?”
Eve looked up from the book and snapped her fingers. “Because demons can only enter homes if they are invited! They know we won’t let them in, so they have to trick us. It says here they do that through falsifying their identities, haunting objects, or slipping through unsealed portals.”
“Like Gahabrian did by following Armand out!”
“Huh?” they both asked at once.
“Nothing.”
“We need to be careful,” Michael cautioned, reaching into the crib to brush Montana’s cheek. “If it’s not safe in Dark Root, we’ll move somewhere that is.”
“There’s no safe place, Michael. Don’t you get it?” I stepped into the lit hall and beckoned them to join me. “You of all people should know that. You built Woodhaven, thinking it would keep us safe, but all it did was keep us fearful.”
“Sounds a lot like Dark Root,” he argued.
“But I feel more in control here. I have my family here. We wouldn’t have that anywhere else.”
“She’s right,” Eve agreed, slamming the book shut. “I’ve seen what Maggie can do to someone when she’s pissed. She harnesses a lot of power from this place.”
Michael rubbed his temples and blinked his eyes. “I have no doubt that Maggie can handle herself against anything human; it’s the inhuman things I worry about.” He looked me over with tired eyes. “But I know how stubborn you are, and I know you’re not going to leave this town because of one spirit encounter.”
I almost laughed. If one spirit encounter was all it took to get me out of Dark Root, I would have left months ago. I slumped against the wall while Eve returned the spell book to the nursery bookcase.
Speaking only to Michael, I whispered, “So you think a demon is pretending to be my dead grandmother?”
“I didn’t say demon––Eve did. I said malevolent entity. And yes, it’s a possibility.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Since when do you know so much about malevolent entities and demons? You’re starting to sound like Aunt Dora and Jillian now.”
“I’m a man of the cloth, my dear. Or at least I was, until my fall from grace.”
“Was it a fall, Michael? Because you told me that you were pushed.”
He sighed deeply, and just for a moment I felt bad. For all his preachy ways, he really did believe in what he was doing. And he was just trying to look out for our son.
“I’m sorry,” I said, as Eve returned.
She shook her head as she caught the tail end of our conversation.
“I’m sorry but I can’t listen to the whole Good Witch, Bad Witch thing right now. I’m going to get coffee.” She marched down the hall, her long braid swinging defiantly behind her as she tightened the belt of her robe.
“I’m coming too,” I called after Eve. Then, turning to Michael, “Are you staying with Montana tonight or should I?”
“I got him. Go spend time with your sister. I won’t let him out of my sight.”
“Thank you.” In the space between our words, I felt a connection with him I hadn’t felt in a long while. It was almost... nice. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“I’m sure I can find you if I need you. Now go.” His lashes fluttered as if he wanted to say more. He stepped closer, pressing his hand to my cheek. “I knew it. You’re burning up.”
“I am?” I touched my head. Sure enough, it was both clammy and feverish. I’d been so worried about my son, I hadn’t noticed.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m just engorged. Montana just wants formula now but my boobs haven’t gotten the message.” That much was true at least, but we both knew there was more to it.
He gave me a dubious nod. “I’ll bet your store has a cure for that.” He winked, letting me off the hook.
I left him, but as soon as I began walking away, I heard him praying.
For me.
EVE REGARDED ME from across the small kitchen table. “Seriously, Maggie. We have to get you cleansed or something. We can’t go anywhere without you summoning ghosts. But at least Aunt Dora and Jillian slept through the ruckus.”
An antique teapot hissed on the old iron stove, steam rising from its spout. My sister stood to turn it off, then poured the boiling water into two mugs, adding instant coffee. She handed one over to me and frowned, then touched the rim with her finger. The coffee instantly lightened. I smiled, impressed.
“Not bad,” I said. “But I like mine a little lighter.”
She tapped again, without success. “I think they’ve drained all the magick from this area,” she sighed, taking her seat. “None of my spells work around here, even with my wand. I guess we’ll have to add creamer to our grocery list.”
“First world witchy problems,” I chuckled, taking a sip. It was much stronger than it looked and my eyes popped wide open.
Eve blew on her steaming mug. “Don’t tease. As witches, we get certain perks. As with any job, remove those perks and the job is not as appealing.”
“What would you be doing otherwise?” I asked, truly curious.
“I don’t know. Writing songs, maybe.”
I blinked in response. I had no idea that Eve fancied herself a songwriter when she wasn’t casting spells.
“But back to the point,” she continued. “We’ve got a ghost in our house and we need to get rid of it. For good.”
“Or a demon,” I said, swallowing. We exchanged worried glances. “But the good news is that this kitchen is filled to the brim with ingredients to ward off ghosts, and mason jars to catch demons.”
“That is good news,” Eve replied, dryly.
I laughed, exhaustion catching up to me. “Hey! We could grow demons in our garden! We have one demon out back, why not forty more? We can start a petting zoo!”
“So, that’s where you stored Gahabrien?” she asked, her eyes narrowing over her cup. “I thought so. You’re always in that corner of the backyard acting all sketchy. Figured you were either checking on a demon or meeting a lover.” Her eyes ran the length of me, as if the answer to that riddle was obvious.
She quickly switched chairs, so that she was sitting beside me. “That was insensitive, wasn’t it?”
I nodded once.
“I know you loved... love Shane. And he loved you, too.”
She blew her bangs out of her face, and I noted bags beneath her eyes. She really was worried about me, in her own Eve way.
“I keep thinking it’s a dream and that I’ll wake up and everything will go back to the way it was.” I put down my cup and twisted the ends of my hair. “Eve,” I whispered. “I heard him.”
“Heard who?”
“Shane. The other night, and then again tonight. His voice woke me up, and that’s when I saw Juliana in the monitor.”
“You sure that wasn’t Juliana’s voice? Or maybe Shane possessing Juliana?”
“Eve!” I reached into my bra and produced the asphodel petal. “I heard him the first time in the bath. When I got out, this was there.”
She leaned away from the petal, as if touching it would poison her. “That’s freaky! Even for around here.” The corners of her mouth turned down in contemplation. “So now we have two ghosts in this house? But we only have enough dead cat whiskers for one! That’s it, I’m out.”
“You think Shane’s haunting me, too?”
“It’s either that or you’re delusional, which we shouldn’t rule out.”
“But it’s been months! He should have crossed over.”
“Maybe he’s tormented.” Eve looked down at her hands, twisting one of her many rings. “Mother’s spell book says that spirits will stick around for a lot of reasons––because they have unfinished business on earth, because they got lost trying to find the light, or because they don’t know they’re dead.” She looked up, her eyes meeting mine. “Or, because they are bound to someone here on this plane.”
Bound to someone.
“Merry said the asphodel binds us.”
Eve looked at the petal, which I had just set on the table. “Maybe it’s time to let go of that, too.”
“I-I don’t want him to go, though.”
Eve’s face was somber. “I can’t say that I blame you. I’d want Paul to stick around, too.” Her eyes looked past me. “In fact, I’d probably do everything in that spell book to make sure he stayed. But that’s just me.”
We both looked into our cups.
For a moment, I was tempted to retrieve Mother’s book and study it in silence. I had raised one man from the dead before, and perhaps I could raise another.
But that would require a body, which I didn’t have.
And deep down, I wouldn’t want that for Shane. I wanted to remember him as he was. Even if he was a ghost.
WITHIN A FEW days of Juliana’s late night visit, Montana got sick. He went through bouts of fever and chills. He slept more than normal and even refused his bottle.
In response, Eve and I cast spells to keep the spirits away, salted the house, and added to the lines of hanging shoes and witch balls. There were no more ghost sightings, but nothing stopped Montana’s relentless fussiness.
“He’s just teething,” I insisted. The curse was mine alone, not his. But on his third night of tears, I agreed to go with Michael to a pediatrician. I quietly hoped for a medical reason, instead of a supernatural one.
The Linsburg doctor found nothing wrong. In fact, Montana was all smiles as soon as we left the boundaries of Dark Root. For all intents and purposes, I had a perfectly normal four-month old. “He’s gaining weight right on cue,” the doctor informed us. He handed me two pamphlets––one on teething and one on colic, then sent us on our way.
“What if it’s not Juliana or the hex that’s causing this?” Michael asked on the ride home.
“What do you mean? What else could it be?”
“You were fine after giving birth, but you got sick again once you lost the ring.”
I looked at my hand, trying to decipher what he was getting at. “Go on.”
“You say you hear Shane’s voice, correct?”
I glanced back at Montana, sleeping in his car seat, then glared at Michael. “Are you implying that Shane’s spirit is making us sick?”
“As I’ve said before, not every spirit is who they pretend to be. Just like the living.” He strummed his hands across the steering wheel.
“You never listened to me before about spirits. You didn’t even believe me about ghosts when we were together. Now you’re a damned expert?”
“I’ve learned a lot this year. We both have.”
I glowered at him. “I was under Jillian and Dora’s protection after he was born. That’s why I seemed better.”
“Then that must be it,” he said, putting his foot on the gas.
But I knew he had his doubts.
Now, we both did.
EIGHTEEN
Hit the Road Jack
WHERE YA OFF ta, Sugarplum?” Aunt Dora plunged the small spade into a patch of dry earth near the back door.
Jillian hovered nearby, a shawl draped around her thin shoulders. Though it was 80 degrees outside, she cradled a mug of hot tea between her palms. She looked older somehow this morning, her emerald eyes dulled to an apple green. She smiled faintly. “Maggie, would you tell Dora she can pee in all the bottles she can find, but it’s not going to stop a determined witch from getting inside.”
“You’re peeing in bottles now?” I asked
, my jaw dropping. I transferred Montana from one hip to the other, watching as she lowered a clay vase into a fresh hole. “Why?”
“Ya tell Jillian, it’s not just urine in these bottles! There’s hair an’ nails, too! We need ta bury more under the front door.” She pointed to a small pile of clay jugs near the edge of the garden.
Jillian rolled her eyes. “Tell Dora that Old World stuff is just superstition. It won’t remove a curse any more than hanging these balls and shoes up all over the house will.”
“Tell Jillian, they couldn’t hurt!” Aunt Dora grumbled and repositioned herself as she dug a deeper hole. “An’ if a dark witch does try an’ enter, she’ll trap herself inside.”
“Tell Dora––”
“I’m going for a walk,” I said, cutting them both off. “You’ll have to work this out between you.”
“I’ll walk you to the front of the house,” Jillian offered.
I nodded, curious, as she escorted me to the porch.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but I’m going to anyway. Stay on your guard, Maggie. Dora’s methods might be silly but her worry is real.” The muted look in her eyes vanished, replaced by one of determination. “I’m doing research. We’ll figure this out soon. Until then, stay strong for you and your son, okay?” She tickled Montana’s chin and he drooled on her finger. “And Maggie, I just want you to know, I approve of where you’re going. Peace brings true strength. Don’t feel guilty, okay?”
“Uh-okay,” I stammered, surprised. How often I forgot that secrets weren’t secrets in a house full of psychics. She touched my arm before rejoining Aunt Dora in the back yard.
Montana and I quickly made our way down the path to the ruins. While the area around Harvest Home had been drained of magick, the glade remained pure and untouched. The scent of honeysuckle and dew hung in the air, and this time there were birds chirping excitedly, as if they’d been expecting us. A butterfly flew from a bed of wildflowers, circled us twice, then disappeared into the woods.
Montana was all smiles as we crossed the grassy clearing. “What do you think?” I asked as we entered the squat stone building. Half the room was draped in sunlight, and the other half shadowed. I set a blanket in the center of the floor and sat down with my son in my lap. He lifted his face to the sunshine while he kicked his feet in the shadows.
The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) Page 15