Shadow Witch (The Witches of Hollow Cove Book 1)

by Richardson, Kim

  I was still holding on to my suitcase as I waited to hear one of my aunts’ voices answer me. All I got was the wonderful scent of freshly baked pumpkin cookies. My favorite.

  I heard a thump, a curse, and then a pair of short steps. A second later, a woman stood in the hallway across from me. She was small and fit with her white hair wrapped around the top of her head in a messy bun. She wore a long flowing pale blue skirt with a linen white blouse that she’d folded over to her elbows. The lines at the corner of her blue eyes deepened with her smile, and I could see her face was spotted with flour.

  “Tessa!” said my aunt. Something orange flew from her wooden spoon and hit the wall as she jerked excitedly. “House told me you were here. Ooh, thank the cauldron you arrived safely.”

  “Hi, Ruth,” I said. I wasn’t being rude. None of my aunts wanted me to call them aunty. Said it made them feel old.

  Her bare feet slapped the dark hardwood floor as she ran—yes ran—at me. More orange goo slopped on the walls and the floor as she wrapped her arms around me. I rested my chin on the top of her head as I hugged her back, taking in the floral smell of her shampoo.

  Ruth let go of me and peered up at me, her blue eyes intense. “I know all about it. You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. But I’m here if you want.”

  “Talk about what?” I hadn’t told my aunts about John’s cheating ass, but I suspected that somehow they already knew.

  She cocked an eyebrow. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Okay.”

  “Leave that.” Ruth flung the spoon again, sending what I realized now was pumpkin cookie batter all over the cream and blue Persian rug. “House will take your things to your room. Come to the kitchen,” ordered my aunt as she skipped down the hallway and disappeared in the kitchen.

  I felt another slip of energy in the air, and then my beat-up suitcase rose off the floor and hovered for a moment before floating up the staircase as though an invisible butler had taken it.

  I knew Davenport House was magical, but I’d forgotten so much. I laughed. “Now I remember why this was my favorite place.”

  After I’d peeled off my shoes—because after having them on for so long, they were practically embedded in my skin—I followed my aunt down the long hallway toward the kitchen. I practically moaned as my bare feet contacted the cool hardwood floors.

  To my left was the large parlor or living room with a massive fireplace that could cook an entire cow, if my aunts actually ate meat, which none of them did.

  “Would you eat your pet dog Spot? Or Kitty the cat? No, of course not. Flesh is flesh. We don’t eat flesh,” my aunts had once told me. Followed by the remark, “If it has a soul… we don’t eat it.”

  I stepped into a kitchen larger than the apartment I shared in New York City. The white shaker cabinets reached all the way to the ceiling above a large range that could hold a few cauldrons. The white subway tiles offset the ten-by-six wood island standing in the middle. Mouth-sized orange cookies speckled with chocolate chips covered most of the island counter. Pumpkin cookies.

  I was going to get SO fat.

  Ruth caught me staring, or rather salivating. “Go ahead. Take some. I made them for you.”

  She didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed a cookie and took a bite. “Wow. Better than I remember.”

  Ruth beamed. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Water?” I said between chews and swallowed. I looked at the cookies, remembering all the years I was careful not to surpass my daily caloric intake to stay slim for John.

  John… John was gone. Yes, it rhymed. And yes, I grabbed another cookie and shoved the entire thing into my mouth.

  “Here.” Ruth gave me a glass of water and pulled out a chair for me. “Sit. You must be exhausted after your trip.” She made her way to the counter and whipped the contents of a large ceramic bowl. “When I was your age, I traveled to Boston with Gerry. I thought I would pull out my hair. I’ve never liked long trips. Makes me anxious. Makes me want to pee every ten minutes.”

  I laughed as I took a sip of water and sat. “It wasn’t that bad. The scenery was nice.” I didn’t want to have to tell my aunt I was too broke to afford a plane ticket. “Thanks for letting me stay here. I promise I’ll make it up to you. As soon as I can afford my own place, I’ll be moving out.”

  Ruth laughed. “Stay here? You’re a Davenport witch. This is your home. Just like all Davenport witches. Here. Have another cookie.” Ruth tossed me a cookie like she was playing softball.

  I caught it, surprised at my own reflexes. “Thank you.” Even if I was a Davenport witch, it didn’t feel right to stay here without contributing in some way. “You know I won’t stay if I don’t help.”

  “I seem to remember that conversation on the phone,” said my aunt.

  “I have two websites to design and three more book covers. So, I can help with groceries and the utility bills—”

  “Here they come!” shouted Ruth making me jerk, my heart pounding.

  There was a sudden “ting” and the oven door burst open. A cookie platter shot out of the oven, hovered for a second, and landed on the kitchen island with a plop. Inches from my face.

  I let out a breath. I’d forgotten how strange this place was.

  “It’s good that you’re back, Tessa.” Ruth’s shoulders were stiff as she emptied the platter of cookies onto the island. When she spoke next her voice was low and serious. “Things are changing in Hollow Cove. Something’s happening.”

  I swallowed the last of my cookie. “What’s happening?”

  The kitchen’s back door flew open.

  A tall woman, about five-ten, strolled into the kitchen. Her long gray hair was tied into a braid that reached the middle of her back. She wore a pantsuit, light gray that matched her gray hair. Her deep scowl disappeared at the sight of me.

  “Tessa! You’re here,” she said as she came for me, her face bright with a genuine smile.

  I slipped off my chair. “Hi, Dolores,” I said and hugged my aunt.

  “I know all about it,” said Dolores as she let go of me, her cynical eyes grave. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t laugh. “Thanks.” I was right. They knew. Great.

  “Dolores? Is it as bad as we thought?” asked Ruth, her toes wiggling as she shifted from foot to foot like she had to pee.

  Dolores let out a long sigh. “Worse.”

  I looked from Ruth to Dolores. “What’s happening?”

  “You tell her.” Ruth pointed her wooden spoon at her sister. “You’re better at explaining than me.”

  Dolores put a hand on her hip while using the other one like a baton as she spoke. “We have to discuss your job.”

  I frowned. “You want to learn about graphic design?” My aunts weren’t exactly computer savvy. But hey, if they wanted to learn, that was fine by me.

  Dolores pointed a finger at me. “Your other job.”

  Oh-oh. My brows reached the bridge of my nose. “My other job? I don’t have another job.”

  The tall witch looked down at me. “Of course you do. You’re a Davenport witch. And as a Davenport witch, you have responsibilities. Obligations. To your family and to Hollow Cove, just like the witches before you.”

  Here it comes. “Such as?”

  “Such as working for the Merlin Group.”

  “What?” I looked at Ruth and she clamped her mouth shut, her eyes wide and staring at her sister. I felt my blood pressure rise aided by my anger. “This is why you asked me to come. Isn’t it?” Now it was all making sense why they’d been so thrilled when I told them I was broke and needed a place to crash.

  Dolores frowned at me. “Now, you listen here, Tessa—”

  “You wanted me to come here to join your demon-banishing group?” My voice was hard, and I immediately regretted it, but it was too late. Now, I felt like a giant asshole. My frustration was
n’t geared toward my aunts. It was geared toward me. I was grateful they were letting me stay here, and this was not how I wanted to show them.

  “Not just demons,” interjected Ruth. “Hill giants, zombies, soul eaters, wraiths… every monster you can imagine. Well, just last week we banished a harpy that had eaten—”

  “Ruth,” growled Dolores, and Ruth clamped her mouth shut again.

  Dolores fixed her eyes on me. “Your place is here with your family. Not with that cheater John in New York. But here. With us.”

  My mouth fell open as heat rushed to my face. “How did you know about that?”

  Dolores’s face softened. “You don’t understand, Tessa. We need you—”

  There was the sudden bang of the front door closing and then the sounds of voices conversing somewhere in the hallway.

  “Beverly’s here,” said Ruth, looking slightly relieved.

  I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. They were going to gang up on me. I knew it.

  A beautiful woman sashayed into the kitchen, her blonde hair perfectly styled, straight and brushed against her shoulders as she neared. She had that Marilyn Monroe vibe with a snug white dress that accentuated all her curves, and she had plenty to go around. Her red shoes matched her red lips as she smiled.

  Wrapped around her arm was a man in his sixties, handsome in the Marlon Brando type way and wearing an expensive suit. His face was blank, and so were his eyes. Weird. He looked… he looked spelled.

  “Oh, hi, Tessa, darling,” said Beverly, her green eyes glistening. “When did you get in?”

  “Just now,” I began, my eyes still on the man. Strands of drool ran from his mouth to the floor. Not good.

  “Who’s this?” asked Dolores. “Your date?”

  “This here,” said Beverly, as she patted his arm, “is Tom-the-cheater. Tom was caught cheating on his wife.”

  “With you, no doubt,” laughed Dolores, making Ruth snort.

  Beverly gave her sisters a murderous look. “Five other women, am I right, Tom?”

  Tom nodded and said in a dreamy voice, “Yes. Yes, that’s right.”

  “I told him I’d show him the house,” informed Beverly. “Well then. Come on, darling.”

  Beverly yanked the man forward with one hand while she opened a single white door opposite the kitchen, which I remembered led to the basement. I also remembered that I wasn’t allowed in there. Which only intensified my curiosity. The door opened with a squeak.

  I leaned to see the inside, but Beverly was hiding it with her body. I knew she did that on purpose.

  Beverly turned to Tom-the-cheater as she smiled brightly and said, “Bye, bye, darling.”

  And with that, she pushed the man through the threshold and slammed the door shut. There was a surprised yelp, followed by the sound of someone falling down the stairs.

  The walls of the kitchen shook, and the floor trembled like an earthquake had hit us. The lights flickered on and off, and then a loud sound erupted from the basement, a rumbling that sounded a lot like a massive burp. And then the house settled.

  “Uh. What the hell was that?” I was very aware that Tom-the-cheater might be dead of a broken neck.

  Beverly beamed at me. “So, what did I miss?” She wiped her hands on her dress as though the mere touching of the man had soiled them.

  “Tessa doesn’t want to join the Merlin Group,” said Ruth, looking worried.

  “Hey, I never said that,” I protested, seeing how quickly they changed the subject of poor Tom-the-cheater.

  Dolores put both hands on her hips. “You never said yes either.”

  I clamped my jaw shut, feeling an ambush in the making.

  Beverly raised her hands in the air and moved to the fridge. “What does it matter? She has no choice.” She pulled out a bottle of white wine and poured herself a generous helping.

  “I do have a choice,” I said, not appreciating being discussed as though I wasn’t there. “Even if I said yes,” I began, “I haven’t practiced in years. I don’t remember it. I don’t even think I can do magic. I’m all magicked out. I’m completely drained.”

  “That’s what Ed said to me last night after our date,” said Beverly with a sexy smile.

  Dolores’s face took on a softer edge. “You can do magic. It’s not something that leaves you because you haven’t practiced in a while. It’s in you. It’s in your blood.”

  “You’re born a witch, Tessa. Like us,” said Ruth, smiling. The age lines in her face made her look even more comforting and kind.

  “And,” continued Dolores, “unlike your mother, who showed no real magical skill, you have a great gift. A powerful one. We’ve all seen how you can manipulate the energies, how the power of the elements responds to you.”

  “You have?” Because I surely hadn’t.

  “We did.” Beverly came around and set her glass of wine on the kitchen island. “You’ve got it, darling.”

  “With some practice, it’ll all come back to you,” encouraged Ruth. “You’ll see.”

  I let myself fall back in my chair. “What did I get myself into?”

  “Tessa, listen to me,” said Dolores, all business again. “The Merlin Group needs new members. After your mother left—”

  “Abandoned,” snapped Beverly, her cheeks flushed and looking angry for the first time. “Say it like it is, Dolores. Don’t sugarcoat it for her.”

  “She was never that invested.” Ruth took a cookie off the counter and took a bite. “It’s not her fault. It was never her calling.”

  “No, but running around the country with a musician who can’t even afford to feed his family is?” snapped Beverly.

  “She did what she could,” said Ruth her eyes sad. “She never had the gift.”

  Dolores rubbed her temples. “Look, Tessa.” She squared her shoulders and came closer. “We’re the only ones left. And in case you haven’t noticed, it’s not like we’re getting any younger.”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Beverly as she traced a hand down from her breasts to her hips. “Tom-the-cheater said I didn’t look a day over thirty-nine.”

  Ruth spit out her cookie and put her hand to her mouth.

  “Thirty-nine?” laughed Dolores. “I think you’re confused with the number of men you’ve been with this week.”

  My lips parted as I stared at Beverly. I thought she’d be angry, but she just smiled wickedly and took another sip of her wine, as though her sister had just complimented her.

  My eyes fell on Ruth. “You said something was happening here. What kind of something?” Judging by the sudden tension and the anxious looks from the three witches, it was bad.

  Ruth looked at her sisters before answering me. “It’s big,” she told me, her eyes round. “And bad.”

  “Your vocabulary astonishes me, Einstein,” commented Dolores.

  I darted a nervous glance around the sisters. “So, it’s evil, I take it. Something evil is here?”

  “There’s more to it than that.” Dolores took a calming breath. “The Merlin Group’s mandate is to protect our community, to protect Hollow Cove. As White witches, we have the means and the power to do so.” Her dark eyes searched my face. “We need your help, Tessa. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

  “More like desperate.” Beverly picked a chocolate chip from a cookie and popped it into her mouth.

  I looked at my aunts, seeing some of my mother in each of them. She had Dolores’s dark eyes, Beverly’s body, and Ruth’s naivete. My mother had let me down more often than I cared to remember. But I wasn’t my mother. And I wouldn’t abandon them, like she did all of us.

  I could tell this was important to them. “Fine, I’ll join your group,” I said before I changed my mind. Might as well agree to it, seeing as it was the least I could do since they were letting me stay here without paying rent.

  “Good,” said Dolores, nodding her head. “That’s fantastic, Tessa.”

  I shrugged. “Happy to h
elp. But I’ll need a refresher course in White Magic 101. You know what I’m saying?” I laughed. “I’m a little rusty with all things magical. Maybe we can start tomorrow.”

  “There’s no time for that.” Dolores had that severe cast again.

  I shifted in my seat, not liking the sound of that. “And why’s that?”

  Dolores looked at me and said, “Because we’ve got a case for you tonight.”

  3

  When your family asks you to do something for them, make sure you read the fine print before you agree to it.

  I was not expecting to be working a case for the Merlin Group the moment I got off the bus and was supposed to be relaxing and trying to piece my life back together.

  Worse, I was especially not expecting to be staring at a dead body.

  Worse even than that, you couldn’t really call it a body. There wasn’t much of it to call it anything. It was more of a slop, a bloody mess of innards and bones of what used to be someone.

  Bright yellow light spilling from a hovering globe illuminated the scene with all its gruesome details. My Aunt Dolores had supplied the witch orb, making me jealous. It just hovered there like a miniature floating sun. I wanted one of those.

  Ruth’s cookies were doing a fine job of wanting to rise from my gut and spew out all over the crime scene. That wouldn’t exactly be the best first impression on my very first case.

  I gritted my teeth, reeling in my nausea. I was a Davenport witch, damn it, and we didn’t puke in front of the town at the sight of an unholy mess on the ground—not unless we really had no choice.

  And yes, I do mean all the town’s people. I could make out at least twenty curious onlookers. Some I recognized, like Martha, and some were just faces in a crowd. A little girl of maybe eight or nine years old stood next to Martha, her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. I thought it strange that the girl’s parents would let her witness something like that. But then again, this was Hollow Cove. Anything went.