by Terri Lane
I needed to see the leader of my coven immediately. So, I packed a small backpack with some supplies and clothing before leaving my humble apartment, possibly, I thought sadly, forever. I shut the door behind me, turning my key in the deadbolt with a click that had the ring of finality.
I knocked on the door to the coven leader’s home. It was a slim brick townhouse on the eastern side of the city. The door was painted a bright spring green color. It swung open to reveal McKenna dressed in a long, flowing skirt made of re-purposed saris. It was vibrantly patterned and colored. She wore an orange over-sized sweater over the top, and had a silk scarf wrapped around her head. She had thick, curly hair, and her dark colored skin had a sprinkling of freckles across it. She smiled widely at me. I could feel her power, so strong that it glowed within her.
“Samara,” she greeted me warmly. “Your mother told me that you would be coming.” Of course she did. McKenna stepped aside, holding the door open for me.
“Thank you, High Priestess,” I replied, stepping inside. The interior was bursting with gold trinkets, colorful paintings and damask wall-hangings; large ostrich plumes, an over-full hat-stand with many patched and tattered coats. The carpet was zebra-print, and the walls were a warm orange color. It smelled of frankincense and sage and cooking food.
The High Priestess placed a comforting hand on my back, leading me through a high doorway and into her kitchen, where the walls were painted a lovely cerulean blue. A large pot of water was boiling away on the stove, and there was the sharp and delicious scent of garlic. Another pot beside it seemed to contain a tomato sauce made from scratch.
“Well, I was preparing supper, but that will need to wait,” she said brightly, not at all concerned that she would have to wait for her dinner. Witches only eat dinner after midnight. She waved her hand, whispering something, and the boiling in the pots paused instantaneously. She began to take different tinctures and herbs down from her well-stocked shelves.
“Where will you send me?” I asked. She glanced up at me from her frenzied efforts to put together a spell of transporting.
“It’s best if you don’t know the exact location,” she said. “But I am sending you to stay with my sister, as was agreed to with your mother.”
“You and my mother planned this?” I said. “I didn’t know that you had a sister.” I had known McKenna for my entire life. She was like a second mother to me.
“Oh, yes. My sister is Dora. Your mother and I planned this long ago — before you were born, in fact,” she replied. She bit her lip. “Your mother knew that you would, at some time, require a safe haven. She trusted Dora explicitly. Dora would do anything for your mother.”
I frowned. Why had my mother kept this imminent danger a secret from me? There was no time to ask for the whole story. McKenna was already drawing the glowing pentacle with her athame dagger, gesturing for me to stand within it. I obeyed, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and taking a deep breath as I felt McKenna’s protective spells surround me, sliding over my skin like a protective sheath.
When finished with the warding, she picked up the bowl containing the proper tincture, holding it over my head and pouring as she chanted. The scent of lavender, thyme, and something else—something woody, wrapped about me. The kitchen began to fade.
“Farewell, Samara,” McKenna said. “Go with the good will of your coven. We will do everything in our power to protect you.” With that, the kitchen was gone, and I found myself surrounded by the reddish, rocky soil of the desert. The night sky was a dark, deep royal blue. I could see mesas and saguaro all about me.
I turned to find myself standing in front of a small white two-story house. It had a wrap-around porch with white wooden rocking chairs on it. A light was on in the downstairs—waiting for me, I realized. It had a sign, made of wood, with two spotlights to light it. It read: Dora’s B&B. In the distance, I could see the scattered lights of a small town. Here and there in the almost pitch darkness, I could see a few cars and their headlights. I sighed, walking in the direction of the B&B, which was evidently my safe house. Although for how long would it be truly safe? I thought to myself as my footsteps crunched in the sandy, rocky desert soil.
***
AURORA:
“What do you mean ‘she has disappeared?’” Lex hissed angrily. I looked at him with wide eyes. He was a greater demon, and as such, could destroy the entire building in which we stood with the flick of a wrist or the shake of his head. I remained calm. As a Lamia, a child-eating demon, I was useful to him. My bloodlust was second to none, and Lex never questioned my allegiance, although, perhaps he should have.
“She went to the home of the High Priestess,” I replied. “She did not come out, and when I entered, she was nowhere to be found.” He turned away from the flames roaring in his fireplace. They made his pale skin a fiery orange. His red eyes glowed.
“How did you get past the warding spells of the High Priestess?” he asked with surprise. I glanced at my nails, which were crusted with dried blood.
“I…well, you can say that she did not quite expect me,” I replied, biting my nail in order to taste the blood that was stuck beneath it. It tasted of salt and iron. I looked down at my body, clad in tight-fitting black leather pants and a black lacy top—my hunting gear. “She was expecting someone. Just not me. She left to get reinforcements in the middle of our little tiff.” Lex was studying me. “The kitchen reeked of transportation spell. A very powerful one.”
“And you could not tell where it sent her?”
“No. It was too well-warded for that,” I replied. Lex rubbed his chin in his hand as he thought.
“The coven now knows that I have been tracking her,” he mused, mostly to himself. “What would you do next?” He looked at me.
“Find and manipulate the weakest link,” I replied automatically.
“Who would that be?”
“Samara’s best friend,” I said, just like the star-pupil. “She’s softer than a kitten.”
“Meroe,” Lex said, nodding his head slowly. A crooked smile dawned upon the high demon’s face. “Go and bring her to me now.” I nodded. Never a “please.” Just “now.”
I let myself disappear, reappearing with a rush outside of Meroe’s apartment building. I stood in the shadows of an alley across the street. It was beginning to rain, and the alley reeked of garbage and that musty smell that city alleyways tend to get. I was used to it, usually using such alleys in order to hang out and wait for people or supernaturals that Lex wanted brought to him for one reason or another.
I watched for several hours, studying each figure that passed on the street. Finally, I saw a slight figure walking briskly in the direction of the building. She was huddled within a bright purple rain coat, the drizzle being too much for her, I supposed. I shifted into my demon form, and let myself slip into the invisible. I got right up behind her as she unlocked and opened the door, following her right inside.
Upon entering the building, she gasped, then turned and looking right at me. She frowned, but, not seeing me, she relaxed. Big mistake. And yet, I had known that this is how she would act. The High Priestess had been a challenge—I’d had to attack immediately. But with Meroe, I knew that I had the luxury of time to play with my prey. I followed her right up the stairs and right to her apartment door, chuckling smugly to myself the whole way.
When she entered her apartment, her warding spells kicked in, and my demon form turned visible with a lurch. Meroe turned and screamed, and I hissed, slapping her across the face so that my long, razor-sharp talons left large and satisfying cuts along the side of her soft, pink, fleshy cheek. She reeled for a moment before recovering and running to get whatever magical aid she believed would be able to stop me.
I laughed at her naïve belief that she could get away from me so easily, shifting so that I disappeared, and then reappeared right in front of her. She screamed again, her face filled with delicious terror as my strong hands clasped her throat, denying he
r air until she passed out. Mission accomplished, I took her tiny limp body in my arms, and disappeared again.
***
SAMARA:
I was greeted at the door to the B&B by Dora, a rotund, jovial woman who looked very much like McKenna, with the same wild curls and spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She smiled widely, clasping my hands in both of hers.
“Oh, Samara,” she said, her voice full of kindness. “You look just like your mother. It is so very wonderful to meet you…despite the horrible circumstances. Come in, dear! Come in! I have just boiled some water for tea.” I entered the B&B to find that the two sisters had very different tastes in décor. Whereas McKenna’s townhouse was brimming with ephemera, Dora’s B&B was neat and simple. The light wood floors had a light blue runner covering them, and the walls were painted a bright cream color. There was plain but beautifully crafted wooden furniture that appeared to all match throughout. The wooden table and chairs in the kitchen matched the large desk and bench that were placed inside of the entryway.
The kitchen itself had a large industrial stove and a massive refrigerator. Copper pots and pans hung from a wrought-iron rack that was suspended above a large kitchen island.
“Have a seat, dear,” Dora said, gesturing toward the table. I sat, setting my pack upon the floor and looking about me. There was a clock that was in the shape of a black cat on the wall. Its tail and eyes twitched from side-to-side along with the second hand. It made a calming ticking sound. Dora set a simple white teapot and two tea cups on the table. “How do you like your tea?”
“Just honey, please.”
“Alrighty,” Dora replied, wrinkling her nose as she concentrated on her spell. She stared into my cup for a moment, whispering beneath her breath. She then sighed, smiling, and handed me the cup.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a sip. She had added just the right amount. Witches are good like that. Dora fixed her tea as she liked it and sat down across from me.
“Am I allowed to know where we are?” I asked.
“Arizona,” she replied. “It's best if you don’t know the name of the town, though. Demons, they can get inside of your head.”
“Do you know much about demons?”
“Not as much as you need me to,” she said sadly. “I am not as powerful as my sister. I am, for the most part, a kitchen witch. Hence, the B&B. There is an herbalist in town who has quite the library. Perhaps he may have what you are looking for.”
“There’s a coven here?” I asked hopefully. Dora shook her head, smiling.
“No. He’s a dragon shifter.”
I looked at her with wide eyes.
“Those are super rare!” I said. “Aren’t they dangerous?”
“They are when you make them angry!” she chuckled. “There are two of them here in town. They are both very kind.”
I looked at her, squinting.
“Are they the reason why the safe house is here?”
“No. They came after, seeking a safe haven, as well.”
“What happened to them?”
“I’m going to let them tell you that,” she replied. “It’s not my story to tell.”
I nodded. I was nervous to meet not one, but two dragon shifters. Dragon shifters are a tricky race—they tend to be rather temperamental, and they usually live alone or in very small groups; five, at most. Any larger, and they tend to get into fights that end in massive, fiery destruction.
Dora and I sat in silence for a bit.
“So do I have to come up with a cover here?” I asked.
“That would be best,” she replied. “It is a small town, after all. Everyone is all up in everyone else’s business here.”
I sighed, thinking.
“Then, my cover is that I am a relative of yours,” I said. “Adopted. Visiting for a bit.”
“And where are you from?”
“The East Coast,” she nodded. The farthest away from my city as possible. “Maybe Boston?”
“Okay,” she agreed. We finished our tea, talking about ourselves. I felt calm, calmer than I should have felt in the situation. Suddenly, I realized why. I narrowed my eyes.
“Dora—Are you an empath?” I asked. She nodded.
“Yes!” Her voice was bright, glad that I had spotted out her talent. An empath is a witch who has the ability to feel other’s emotions. They can then use their powers to influence emotions. Empaths tend to be very kind as well as easily upset, since they often can feel the emotions of every person who is near them. “It is easier for me to live in a small town, rather than a city. The crowds really get to me, you know.” I nodded.
“Is that why my mother chose you?” I said.
“It may have been a factor. I loved your mother and would have done anything to help her,” she said. “But I also needed to get out of the city. For my own emotional wellbeing.”
“Well, thank you,” I said gratefully, knowing that the level of my own upset may have caused her discomfort. “For calming me.”
“Not a problem,” she replied, nodding her head. She looked at the cat clock, which read something after three in the morning. “We should get you some rest. I have a room all fixed up for you upstairs.”
I slept well that night, feeling the protective wardings of my coven all about me. In the morning, I ate a large breakfast of eggs, ham, toast, and coffee before heading out to go to the herbalist’s shop. I needed a good supply of herbs, and I needed to gain access to his books on demonology as soon as possible.
The hot desert sun beat down on my skin. The ground was absolutely baking. I wished that I had known I was going to the desert in Arizona, or I would have packed more appropriately for the climate. I was dressed in skinny jeans and a t-shirt that clung to my skin, already soaked in sweat. I made the short walk into town, which was nothing more than one main street with a few smaller streets off of it, with a rows of houses neatly arranged. I passed a pharmacy, a post office, a grocery store and a book store. I found the herbalist’s tucked in between the book store and an antiques shop. It was a tiny old house that had been converted into a shop. It looked to have been built long ago, with a forest-green paint job on its wooden shingle-type exterior. It had a covered porch on the front, with a yellow door. The sign out front read: Herbs and other Magickal Elements.
A bell tinkled merrily as I opened the bright door. As it opened, a woman pushing a baby stroller was just leaving. She was balancing a large bundle of sage on top of the stroller. The baby sat, its foot in its mouth. He wore a bright blue onesie.
“Oh, excuse me,” I said. The woman smiled. She looked exhausted; obviously a new mother.
“It’s okay,” she said.
“He’s adorable,” I commented, leaning down to look at the baby. He smiled at me around his tiny foot.
“Actually, it’s a she,” the mother explained, laughing. “We’re trying to trick the sidhe.”
“Ah,” I replied, understanding. It was a common practice for witches to trick the sidhe, or fairies, so that witch-children were not stolen and exchanged for changelings. “Well, enjoy your day.”
“Thanks, you too,” she said, and I held the door open for her. The door closed behind the pair with a loud jingle. I looked around me.
It was as packed inside as McKenna’s townhouse. Bundles of herbs were hanging from the ceiling, and displayed on different shelves. Tiny bottles were everywhere. There was a shelf stocked with various tarot packs, and a whole wall filled with books. Different crystals were arranged here and there, not seeming to have any type of organization whatsoever. They might have, but I didn’t see it.
There was a thin, handsome man leaning on the natural wood counter that was right across from the door. An old-fashioned metal cash register sat upon the counter. The man was studying me with his bright green eyes which seemed to glow a bit. I knew, even if I hadn’t been forewarned by Dora, that he was far more than he looked. He smiled, and I saw that his canines were a tad more elongated than that of the
average human. My skin tingled, and my heart raced a bit. I was nervous to meet a dragon for the first time.
“Hello,” he said. His voice was soft and smooth. I noted that he was dressed in a well-worn plaid flannel shirt. Strange, for desert-garb, but I supposed that he was stuck inside in the air-conditioning all day. He had long hair, which he wore pulled back in a ponytail, and he had an ample beard.
“Hello,” I replied, uncertainly. I realized that I was looking for scales and a set of reptilian eyes. He was in human form, I reminded myself.
“Can I help you with something?”
“Yes,” I whispered. I cleared my throat, then said a bit louder: “I am looking for a few basic herbs. For spell work.” He nodded.
“Okay. What are you looking to do?”
“Protective spells. Cleansing. The usual,” I shrugged, not able to tell him that I knew that he was and that I desperately needed a look at his supposedly well-stocked collection of demonology books. One thing at a time, I told myself.
He smiled, baring those canines. But his look was, to my surprise, kind. He had a wide smile, but it was clearly meant well. He stepped out from behind the counter, placing his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans, which definitely looked as though they had seen better days. He led me over to the shelves, where he began gesturing toward bundles of herbs.
“We’ve got some sage,” he said. “Obviously a necessity for cleansings. I have some sea salt in the back if you need that.” He stood very close to me. I could smell his scent. It was clean, like laundry detergent, with a warm, masculine skin smell. I felt butterflies in my stomach—strangely, not from fear of this guy’s true nature.
“Definitely,” I replied, grabbing a few of the bundles of pale gray sage, which were wrapped in white string. “Do you have any books on demonology, by any chance?” I tried to say it in an off-hand manner, but I suppose any mention of demons is pretty hard-hitting. He looked at me in surprise.