Booke of the Hidden

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Booke of the Hidden Page 29

by Jeri Westerson


  “Do you want me to stand by? In case you have a fall?”

  “No, I’m all right. But I could use some coffee when I get out.”

  “Coffee with cream coming up!” she said, and hurried out of the room.

  • • •

  I felt more human after my shower. I tried to avoid getting the bandage wet but was sadly unsuccessful. In the steamy bathroom, I managed to pull it off and had a look. I was aghast before I realized that part of that mess was Doc’s poultice and not some other horrible reaction. I still couldn’t raise my arm more than a few inches.

  The knock on the bathroom door came just in time. “I could use some help getting a new bandage on this, Seraphina.”

  She set the coffee down on the bathroom counter and helped with the gauze and tape. “There now,” she said. “Get dressed and you’ll be ready to face the day.”

  I certainly hoped so.

  She left me and I went to my wardrobe to get a shimmery t-shirt and black skinny jeans. I put on a little make-up to take away some of the pallor from a rough night. Some beaded necklaces and a bracelet slid over my wrist and I felt ready.

  I couldn’t help but glance at the Booke. It radiated a sense of waiting, of impatience. I felt compelled to approach it and sat at the desk chair. My hands glided over the leather cover, traveling again as they always seemed to, over the engraved words—Booke of the Hidden—and then the lock. I fingered it for a moment and then snapped it open. I laid the cover aside and turned the blank parchment pages, one over the other.

  Soon, I felt more than heard the word. Soon.

  • • •

  Once I got downstairs, I gasped. My Wiccans, my coven, had done a splendid job, no doubt following Jolene’s directions. The selected teas were steeping in the urns around the room, the twinkly lights were hung, cascades of flowers (probably from Seraphina) were perched artfully here and there, and the whole place smelled of apple pecan loaf, spices, herbs, and brewed tea. It was just the way I’d pictured it all those months ago when the notion had set in.

  “You guys,” I said breathlessly, looking around. “It’s perfect!”

  Nick greeted me at the stairs. “We hoped you’d like it. Jolene is quite the taskmaster. I think she deserves a raise.”

  “I second that motion!” shouted Jolene from the kitchen.

  I stepped into my shop. My shop! “Wow. This is going to be great.”

  Nick grabbed his jacket. “I’m going to run home for a shower and then I’ll be right back. Don’t open without me.”

  He pulled open the front door and nearly ran into Erasmus. The demon pushed him roughly out of the way and peered in at me.

  “Hey, demon boy,” said Nick as he trotted away. “Watch it!”

  Erasmus stared at me through the doorway and I stared back, but it was Doc who stepped forward and closed the door. He looked at me meaningfully and I gave him a quick nod. None of that now, Kylie. I have a shop to run.

  • • •

  Nick returned after forty-five minutes. His hair was still wet but he bustled about the shop, taking my orders. I could see cars beginning to park out front and people milling. I was suddenly giddy.

  “Okay,” I said to Jolene, who was closest to the door. “Open her up!”

  She unlocked the deadbolt and the surface bolts at the top of the doors. When she pulled it open, the bell tinkled.

  Red faces from the cold peered in, and patrons in bundled coats arrived, oohing and ahhing at what was on offer.

  The first person through the door was a rather round-bellied man in a dark green suit. He was clean-shaven, but his sideburns came down to his jawline in gray muttonchops. The hairline on his wide forehead receded until there was little more than a center tuft. He barreled in and came right up to me. “Well, young lady,” he said in a booming voice. “Do I have the pleasure of addressing Kylie Strange, of Strange Herbs & Teas?”

  I took the plump hand and shook it. “Why yes, you do.”

  “I am Hezekiah Thompson, council manager of the fair village of Moody Bog. If we were a town, I’d be what you call a mayor.”

  “Well…your honor…it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He fairly glowed. “Not being an actual mayor, ‘Mr. Thompson’ will do. Or how about Hezekiah?”

  “Hezekiah,” I said with a smile.

  “I was sorry to miss the Chamber to-do earlier this week. Folks said you made quite an impression.”

  I kept my neutral smile in place. I was sure Ruth Russell was doing her best to add to my reputation.

  Manager Thompson glimpsed the Wiccans chatting amongst themselves near the front counter, and his wide grin faded. “Uh…new businesses are important to the fiscal health of any municipality and none so important as in a small one. Small in size but not in stature!”

  “Of course. I was happy to meet my fellow business owners.”

  He still had an eye on the Wiccans. Doc looked up, caught him staring, and winked at him. Thompson blustered and tried to focus on our conversation. Leaning in toward me, he said in a quiet voice, which seemed like a strain to him, “It’s such a nice little shop. I hope you don’t plan on getting too cozy with…the wrong element.”

  Hackles up, my smile frozen, I tilted my head. “And just what is it you consider the wrong element?”

  “Well, the tea is splendid. Really splendid. But the herbs. You know, those would attract the wrong kind of business.”

  “I guess I’m still a little fuzzy on that.”

  Reverend Howard surprised me by poking his head over Thompson’s shoulders. “He means your Wiccan friends.”

  Thompson was flustered. “Now Howard, I didn’t say that.”

  “But that’s what you meant, you old coot.”

  “Now gentlemen.” They both stopped squaring off and turned toward me. “Today is my grand opening. And the scones and apple pecan loaf won’t eat themselves. And today only, they’re free, so if I were you, I’d take advantage of that.”

  They looked at each other, took a surreptitious whiff of the pastry-scented air, nodded, and strode off in separate directions.

  I caught Doc’s eye, and he gave me a triumphal nod.

  After that, I chatted and served tea, explaining the many varieties. Some ladies from a garden club wanted to learn about the herbs and their healing properties and I slipped behind the counter to pull out the cubbies, showing them twig and leaf, letting them smell their aromas, and handing out little cards I had printed out on what to do with them. I told them I would be happy to come to their club and give a lecture.

  I had just rung up a set of tea towels when Jolene skipped up, dragging with her a couple in their mid-forties. The woman was in jeans and a patchwork sweater, and her brown hair was caught up in barrettes on either side of her head. Her husband wore black, cuffed jeans and a white button-down under an argyle vest.

  “Kylie,” said Jolene with a proud smile, “this is my Mom and Dad, Jan and Kevin Ayrs.”

  I shook both their hands. “You’ve got a great daughter there, and a good worker.”

  They beamed. Kevin released my hand and rested it on Jolene’s knit hat-covered head. “Our Jolene is a very enterprising young lady. Never showed much of an interest in working at our nursery, but I guess a prophet in your own country and all that.”

  “Dad!” she complained, rolling her eyes.

  “I guess she’s a bit tired of it. Though here you are, pumpkin, still working with plants. Only these are dead and dried. Go figure.”

  “Sounds like a perfect transition,” I said.

  Jan sidled up and asked softly and a bit sheepishly, “So…uh…are you a Wiccan, too? They’re such nice people.”

  “I’m not converted yet, but you never know.”

  “It’s nice of you to let them use your shop. Gives Doc a break.”

  “No one’s getting any younger,” said Kevin, elbowing her.

  I straightened a teapot on a shelf, being careful of my painful reach. “I really
love having them here. You’re right. They are nice people.”

  We exchanged a few more pleasantries before the conversation lagged and they waved their good-byes, mingling with the others. I mingled as well, moving around the shop and greeting people, answering questions, and demonstrating wares. Teapots were purchased, saucer sets, bags of tea, and some of the antique doilies I had picked up in Oklahoma when I had driven across the country.

  Business seemed brisk. My shoulder ached a bit, and Doc was suddenly there with some tea. “Chamomile with a smidge of white willow bark. For the pain.” I took it gratefully and then called in an order for lunch from the local sandwich shop.

  We had a lull, and when the sandwiches arrived I fed my coven. A fed Wiccan is a happy Wiccan.

  We all chatted while devouring our sandwiches (I didn’t realize how ravenous I had become) as if we hadn’t escaped death or closed a Netherworld portal just the night before.

  I’d have been lying if I said I hadn’t been stealing glances out the window at the sour-looking Erasmus Dark. Sometimes he paced by the front door. Sometimes, I saw him lurking in the shadows of the backyard. I felt a little bad that he was relegated to the outside, but it seemed better that way.

  But when the Wiccans weren’t looking, I wrapped a sandwich and snuck out the back. I found him by the glider swing, pushing it absently back and forth with his hand.

  “Hi,” I said, startling him. Great. What kind of watchdog was he when a mere mortal could sneak up on him? I lifted my parcel. “I thought you might be hungry.”

  He eyed it suspiciously. “And whatever made you think that?”

  Come to think of it, I hadn’t ever seen him eat. “Well…you were just out here…alone. Do you…eat?”

  “Not food, no.”

  My neck hairs stood up. “Do I want to know?”

  “I sincerely doubt that.” He thrust his hands in his pockets and sniffed the wind.

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Any sign of the succubus?”

  “No. It worries me.”

  “Really? Why? Maybe she’s just laying low.”

  He shook his head, eyes hooded. “She should be especially keyed up after last night. She’s spilled more of your blood.” His eyes softened and he looked me over. “You seem well. Are you…all right?”

  “Yes. Doc fixed me up.”

  “Good.”

  We seemed to have run out of conversation. “Well, the sandwich is here if you want it.”

  “I said I don’t eat food.” He showed a canine tooth…or were there more? It seemed like his mouth was full of them, but in a flash the image was gone.

  I picked up the wrapped sandwich from where I left it on the glider. “All right, all right. No need to get your pitchfork in a twist.”

  He scowled. “I don’t have a pitchfork.”

  “It’s only an expression.”

  He snorted and tossed his head. “You seem to have many customers today. I congratulate you.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  He nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. “I suppose there is much commerce in tea.”

  My lips quirked in a smile. “As much as you despise it, others seem to like it.”

  “Good for them.” Suddenly his mannerisms screamed of impatience. “Off with you, then. Stay inside where it is safer.” With a sneer he added, “Your constable is here.”

  I whipped my head toward the kitchen window and saw Sheriff Ed and his reluctant deputy wandering around. Without a backward glance, I rushed inside, letting the backdoor slam shut, and grabbed Ed’s arm from behind.

  He turned to me with wide eyes and suddenly smiled on recognizing me. “You look all right,” I said, meaning his bump on the head, but actually he looked more than all right. The ache I had for Erasmus Dark seemed to dim under Ed’s gentle gaze.

  He touched his head gingerly. “Yeah, I’m okay. Feel like a damned fool, but I’m okay.”

  I couldn’t very well share my trauma from the night before so I smiled like an idiot instead. I rocked on my heels and noticed the sandwich still in my hand. “Sandwich? Here’s an extra. And Deputy? George, is it? Can I get you anything? Sandwich, scone, coffee?”

  Deputy George seemed surprised to be addressed and his usual scowl fell away. I don’t know what made him so sour against me but it was still there in his eyes. “Sure, Miss Strange, I’ll take a sandwich if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “None at all.”

  I took Ed aside once they both had sandwiches. “I’m sorry about last night, too.”

  “Not your fault. Weird about that owl.”

  “Yeah. Weird.”

  “But I was thinking. I get off at seven tonight. How about I take you out to celebrate your grand opening success?”

  I grinned, feeling a bit of the heaviness lift. But I still didn’t know what to do about the succubus. I couldn’t take the chance that it might attack Ed because he was with me. Or worse, if he wasn’t. Kind of hard to explain why I was taking a crossbow on a date.

  “That sounds like a great idea. But I might be pretty wiped by the end of the day. And I owe the coven for sticking with me.”

  His smile faded. “You sure got close to Doc and his cohorts mighty quick.”

  I laughed to hide my nervousness. “Well, coven…herbs. It’s a natural.”

  “I guess. I suppose they’re harmless enough.” I didn’t like the frown shadowing his eyes. Or the fact that this was the second time he’d said that.

  “How about you drop by later for some champagne? Get to know the coven a little.”

  The frown smoothed away and he nodded. “All right. Fair enough.” He checked to see no one was looking before he bent down to kiss my cheek. “I’ll see you later then.”

  It felt like the warmth of his lips left a permanent brand on my face. I refrained from touching it but I couldn’t stop my smile. “Okay,” I gushed.

  He left the kitchen just as Jolene entered. She gave me a knowing look.

  I ignored her and joined the main shop again, answering questions and happily manning the cash register.

  • • •

  When I counted up the day’s tally around six o’clock I shook my head in wonder. “I feel like I should share this with you guys.”

  Nick’s eyes widened at the prospect but Doc waved him off. “It was our pleasure, Kylie. I hope it goes just as well this weekend.”

  “It’s still leaf peeper season,” said Seraphina. “Bound to be lots of tourists from off the highway. You’re really in a prime location.”

  “Let’s hope.” I glanced at the sunset, red streaked with gold stretching along the horizon. The silhouettes of trees blocked some of the colors and the street was cast in shrouds of shadows with the merest hint of gold gilding the facades of the shops along Lyndon Road. I’d seen no sign of anything out there, not that I’d been paying attention. The only movement was Erasmus moving among the shadows.

  Nick followed my gaze outside. “It’s been quiet.”

  “Yes,” said Seraphina. “Too quiet.”

  “I hope you don’t mind,” I said, putting the last of the money in the safe under my counter. “But I invited Sheriff Ed to come over for a little champagne.”

  They all looked at me.

  “Uh…I’m dating him, remember?”

  “And Mr. Dark?” asked Jolene, clearly impressed.

  “No! I’m not dating Erasmus.”

  “Just sleeping with him?” she said.

  Heh, kids today.

  “No,” I said firmly. “That’s over. I have to concentrate on more human prospects.” I absolutely refused to look out the window.

  “Do you think that’s wise?” asked Doc. “You don’t want Ed to get mixed up in all this.”

  “I don’t want him to disappear either,” I said to the counter I was wiping down. “And I feel bad about yesterday.”

  Doc opened his mouth to speak when the lights suddenly went out. We all froze for a moment in the shadows.

&
nbsp; “Dang old buildings,” said Doc. “It’s like that all over this village.”

  But I was the first one to hear the gravel outside. Several pairs of feet crunching over my parking lot. “I don’t think it was an accident,” I whispered.

  Someone tried the door. I didn’t remember the succubus being that polite.

  “Ky-lie!” It was Doug. Shadows passed over the windows as the Ordo made their way around, trapping us.

  “Come on, girl, open up. You and your little witches have been very naughty.”

  Where was my crossbow? On a hunch, I held my hand out, and sure enough, something came whistling out of the air and smacking into my hand.

  “No way!” gasped Nick.

  It was armed again with that strange nondescript quarrel.

  “Doug!” I called out, motioning for the others to go upstairs. “We’re closed for the night. I’m sure you don’t want to cause any trouble.”

  “Oh, baby!” he laughed. “I sure as hell do.”

  “The crossbow won’t work for you. And I won’t help you with it.”

  “I think we’ve found a way around that little problem. So it’s time to come out and hand it over.”

  The door rattled hard again.

  “I’m just going to break this door if you don’t open it.”

  I heard glass breaking behind me in the kitchen. They were already getting in that way. Where the hell was Erasmus?

  I lifted the crossbow to my shoulder. I tried, but the pain left by the succubus made it impossible. Now what?

  The front door shattered.

  I bolted upstairs. When I got to my bedroom the Wiccans were in full chant mode, sitting on the floor in a circle of salt with a candle in the middle. As much as I liked them, I couldn’t help but feel a conjured Uzi would be better about now.

  The crashing below from the front door and the back didn’t sound good. All my work, all my stuff!

  “Guys!” I pleaded to the Wiccans. “Whatever it is you’re doing, do it fast!”

  Someone stomping up the stairs.

  I turned. Doug stood in my doorway. The candlelight lit his toothy grin. “Looky here.”

  Behind him were the Three Stooges—Bob Willis, Dean Fitch, and Charise. They were in their leathers, as always, knives in their holsters tied to their right legs.

 

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