by Liz Schulte
I moved stiffly as he all but dragged me around the house to prove we were alone. I tore my hand from his grip before he could pull me upstairs. “Fine, I believe you.” I went to the front door, sliding my hand back into the glove.
Leslie’s teeth were chattering. “All clear?”
“Mostly.” Orion gave her a sultry smile that would have warmed many a cold heart.
Leslie rushed inside. “I’d smile back at you, but I’m pretty sure my mouth is frozen shut.”
“Yes, sorry about that. Comes with the territory.”
Leslie went to the fireplace and stooped to look up the chimney. Before I could tell her it probably wasn’t fire-safe, logs that hadn’t been there a moment earlier were burning and already putting out warmth. “What territory is that? All Frost told me is you are a spirit guide.” She rubbed her hands together over the flame.
“That I am, but I am many things to many people,” he said.
She gave him an impatient look I never would’ve guessed she was capable of. “Amaze me.”
A laugh slipped out of my mouth. So sweet Leslie had some bite in her after all.
Orion’s chin lifted and there was a faintly dubious expression in his eyes. “It really depends which life we are talking about. Once I was a great hunter—but then there was a slight misunderstanding and I was turned into a constellation. So technically I am both a hunter and a celestial body. It has a nice ring to it, so much better than a lackluster star.”
This got my attention. He’d been vague with me before.
“I’m also what you refer to as Father Winter…Jack Frost…all things of that manner. You see, once, very long ago, I wasn’t the humble person you see before you today.” He arched an eyebrow. “I may have threatened to kill every living creature on the planet in front of a very touchy goddess who couldn’t take a joke.”
Leslie shook her head. “I can’t imagine why she failed to see the humor in that.”
“A moment later I was stuck up there.” He pointed skyward. “It’s dreadfully boring to watch life and not participate.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Stars are lightyears away. What time are you watching?”
“Fifteen hundred lightyears—at least mine is. Others are much further. However, this is the time I watch. I don’t know how any of it actually works.”
She nodded. “The Orion nebula is beautiful.”
He winked at her. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then what happened? How did you go from stars to the king of snow?”
Leslie was so much better at this than me. Within seconds of meeting Orion the first time, I’d been fighting with him. It was the only thing I was good at. She, on the other hand, was having a conversation and getting better answers than I ever managed. Now I was stuck watching her create a more meaningful bond with my guide than I would ever have.
“Well, apparently the powers that be thought my curse had grown too easy. Either that or with time to think about it, they thought of an even more taxing punishment.” He cut the distance between himself and Leslie. “You see the gods love a good punishment. Turning someone into a star used to be a big deal, but now it’s all been there, done that. However, making me pay for what I said over and over again every year for all eternity was too good to pass up. I promised I would kill every living creature, so now I bring in winter and I do technically kill the earth every year, but then I have to watch each spring as it comes back to life.”
“Proving over and over again that you can’t beat them,” she said.
“Exactly.” He smiled at her and warning bells went off in my head. I didn’t like it. He was my spirit guide, not hers. He should have shared these things with me.
“Well, that’s great and all, but we aren’t here to hear about you. It’s me we’re supposed to be talking about.” Shit. I regretted the words the moment they came out. I didn’t mean them. I couldn’t even say why I said them, other than because I wanted them to stop talking to each other like that. If it weren’t for social awkwardness, I would have no socialness at all.
Immediately Orion’s hazel eyes fixed on me and understanding began to grow in them.
“Not that we should be talking about me. I don’t want to talk about me. I hate talking about me.”
“She does,” Leslie pitched in and I nodded. “Absolutely hates it.”
“What I meant was…” I swallowed trying to clear my thoughts. “I’m here to…” They both waited for me to finish, but I couldn’t. Why was I here? I couldn’t think of anything with them staring at me. “Find the spell to break my curse.”
His full lips set into a straight line. “Finally …your real question at last, but I cannot tell you where it is.”
I put a hand on my hip. “You can’t or you won’t?”
He looked at Leslie. “Is she always this contrary?”
“Eh.” Leslie shrugged.
“Just answer the question,” I snapped. “I can’t. I don’t know where she kept the spell, but even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you how to find it. How’s that for an answer?” he asked.
I rubbed a hand hard over my forehead. I already hated today. “But I thought you’re supposed to guide me.”
He nodded. “You want guidance. Close your eyes.” He put his hands on my shoulders and I frowned, trying to pull away. “Close. Your. Eyes.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Fine.”
“Tell me what the room you’re standing in looks like.”
“What?” I started to open my eyes, but he pressed his hand over them.
“You have been here for long enough, but you haven’t seen anything. You haven’t learned anything about her because you’re so closed off to the world around you. As you are, the spell would be useless. You’ll never break that curse.” The warmth of his hand left my face and weight lifted from my shoulder.
I kept my eyes closed and concentrated. “It’s an old farmhouse that has been decorated like the evil queen’s castle. Big gothic furniture that is too big for the rooms is everywhere. Happy?” I asked.
“What does the couch look like?”
“It’s covered.”
“So is the gothic furniture, but you picked that out.”
I did. I could see the heavy black legs sticking out and the peaked lines. “It has wooden legs that match the rest of the furniture. I’m willing to bet it’s covered with some sort of velvet, probably red.”
“Open your eyes.”
I did with a roll. “I don’t know what this is supposed to prove,” I said as he pulled the sheet from the couch revealing a blood red velvet couch with heavy-looking yet graceful legs. “I was right.”
He nodded. “This house was hers. She may be dead, but she still resides in these walls and you are connected with her whether you like it or not. If you want answers you have to look beyond what you see. Look with her eyes.”
Everything went still and numb inside of me. What in the hell was I supposed to do with that? “Well, this was a waste of my time. I’ll find what I came here for on my own. Thanks for nothing.”
I stormed off toward the narrow staircase so I could put as much distance between me and them as was possible in this house.
There were three doors upstairs, two of them were open and one was closed. The open one on the right was every bit as ornate and over the top as the rest of the house. The huge bed was draped in thick, dusty red velvet and almost took up the entire room. The closet door hit the foot of the bed so it would only open about halfway. It was filled with boxes and a few dresses were shoved to the corner. The clothes were what I expected: long black dresses with draping sleeves and old fashioned lace. Everything looked like a set designer’s vision of a dark witch instead of a real person. But then again, maybe this stuff really was who she was. Things become clichés for a reason.
I made a mental note to come back here and look through the boxes if I couldn’t find her altar or Book of Shadows in another room. The next
door led to a black and white tiled bathroom. The last room on the left was the only closed door. My insides fluttered at the sight of it. I could sense something about that room, but pinpointing the sensation was impossible. Was it a magical aura, an undead one, or something else entirely? Part of me was tempted not to open it. There was plenty of house left to look through. The door vibrated slightly, rattling on its hinges.
This is it. You’re going to find the spell. I tugged on my gloves making sure my fingers went to the very ends. Once I saw whatever was behind that door I could never go back. My stomach twisted at the thought. I wanted to break the curse. It was all I had ever wanted, but if I had to give myself to dark magic or make a human sacrifice, would I do it? Did I even want to know that about myself?
I stared at the door. I started to back away from it. I’d look through the boxes first. They were safer somehow.
“Did you see your room?” Orion asked, startling me.
I turned toward his voice, but he wasn’t there. When I looked back at the closed door, he was standing in front of it, his arms crossed. “No room here is my room. I didn’t even know this place existed before last week.”
He pushed the door open in a silent challenge. I stared into the black hole, unable to make anything out inside. “Shall we?”
I drew in a slow breath, squared my shoulders, and entered the room. Orion flipped a switch and light sizzled to life. I flattened my hands against my legs as I tried to reconcile what I was seeing with what I’d expected. Two walls were a pretty pale pink and the other two were a soft gray. A silhouette of a tree was painted from the floor to the ceiling with branches hanging over the crib and white and pink blooms covering the branches then scattering over to the next wall. Someone put a lot of time into a room that would never be used.
“You haven’t seen the best part.” Orion flipped off the lights, then turned a different switch. The ceiling came to life with stars and constellations that rotated in gentle soothing patterns.
My fingertips tingled with the urge to touch things, but I kept them firmly pressed into my leg. “What a waste of time. It was stupid to go to this trouble for a child that would never see it.”
He shook his head. “They loved you.”
“Enough.” I stomped my foot, tearing my eyes from the wall and letting rage take over. I could trust my anger. It had been with me forever and hadn’t let me down yet, which was more than I could say about anyone else.
“You can’t rewrite the past. If they loved me, where are they? Where was the plan for my future? I understand I served a purpose for her. Maybe she thought I’d be okay with it and would bring her back, but that isn’t going to happen. She ruined my life and I’m what? Supposed to forgive her because she painted a room pink for me?” My whole body was shaking.
“You want to get to know me? Let me give you the short version. I was in eight foster homes and six group homes. I accidently killed at least sixteen people before I finally ran away because everyone was safer if I wasn’t in their life. I was twelve years old. I didn’t go to school. I went to the library, mostly because it was warm and dry and easy to hide in it. I scrounged, ate out of dumpsters, and took handouts anywhere I could get them until someone from the Abyss noticed me.”
Orion cleared his throat and I was vaguely aware of Leslie—eyes wide with a stricken look—but I pushed on.
“They knew what I could do and introduced me to that world, but more importantly it was the first time anyone had an explanation for what was wrong with me. By that point, I’d lost track of how many people I’d killed accidentally or to protect myself. I became a bounty hunter because it was the only thing I could do. So please keep telling me how much my parents loved me.” I tightened my fingers into fists. “My mother made me this monster. And my father? Well, where has he been all this time? You can try to color them anyway that suits you, but you can’t change the facts because I lived them.”
I looked back at the walls. “Who cares about stars and paint?”
Orion ran a hand over his jaw, and his intense eyes followed me as I backed toward the door. “Ask yourself one question, Frost. Does any of this look like they intended to die?”
4
JESSICA
The bell jingled over the door.
I put the book back on the table and headed to the front, wearing what I hoped was a pleasant smile—right until I saw Donavan. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”
He held up his hands. “I come in peace.” He glanced around the shop with a cynical expression.
Sure the front was a bit touristy, but that’s what people wanted. To the right were homemade candles, soaps, lotions, and beauty products. To the left was the counter and jewelry. The long thin table opposite the checkout held fun things people loved to browse, like tarot cards, rune stones, voodoo dolls, lucky charms, and things like that. It was as you went deeper into the building that the people interested in real magic would find what they were looking for.
Donavan put my two dollars on the counter. “I was up all night and I took it out on you. It was a dick move. Are we cool?”
“Was that an apology?”
He gave me a flat look. “Do you need one?”
I considered it for a moment. “Fine. We’re cool. Now, what do you want?”
“I don’t…you came to me.” He put his hands in his pockets. “You braved a snow storm to ask me about a murder. Call me crazy, but it seems like it was sort of important to you. Why are you busting my balls?”
I shrugged. “Emaleigh used to come into the store. Her death took me by surprise and the article didn’t make a lot of sense to me. How can you wrap up a murder investigation in a week based on circumstantial evidence? I figured there had to be more to the story and I wanted to know what it was.” He nodded. “Like do you think it really was the boyfriend?”
“As a journalist, I’m only reporting the facts. As a person who was born and raised here, I’ve known Jasper Hixson my whole life. I’d bet everything I own on the fact that he couldn’t kill anyone, especially Emaleigh. He loved that girl more than anything else.”
“What do you think happened?”
“Jess, I think I found something useful.” Katrina appeared beside me, holding out an ancient book. “Oh, hi.” She closed the book, keeping her finger on the page.
“Kat, this is Donavan. He writes for the paper.”
“He owns the paper,” Donavan corrected me with a smirk.
“This is Katrina. She’s another one of the owners of Enchantment.”
“Where did you get that book?” Donavan’s eyes trailed to her hands. “It looks really old. Can I see it?”
“Nope,” she said, holding it tighter. “It’s just made to look like that. You know us Wiccans. We’re weird. Um, I’ll wait for you in the break room.” She left, making not so subtle “He’s cute” eyes at me.
I looked back at Donavan, who was smiling slightly because he wasn’t blind and of course had noticed her face. “You asked me what I thought. I think the police didn’t have any other suspects and the significant other is always guilty so they arrested him before people could panic. As you said, it’s a small town. A murder is a big deal.”
“But what about the other woman you mentioned?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Rhonda Wesselton. She was a middle-aged banker found hanging in her closest, somewhat eaten by cats.”
I grimaced. That was horrible.
“The police ruled it a suicide, but I have my doubts. Something isn’t right about it, and why would her cats start eating her? She was found within hours. It was bizarre.”
“How so? Besides the cats?”
He leaned a hand against the counter. “I know everyone has secrets, parts of their lives that they hide from the rest of the world. Wesselton wasn’t the type. She was bubbly and sweet and involved in the community. I know that doesn’t prove anything, but I read the police reports. The marks on both bodies were similar. It doesn’t make sense. I think
someone did this to both of them and Jasper isn’t that guy. But every time I go to the police for a quote, they stonewall. I have no idea what’s happening there. Chief Caffery isn’t usually like this.”
Two suspicious deaths was more than I bargained for. I didn’t know Rhonda Wesselton. If there was a killer, he or she was probably human and there wasn’t much I could do about it. “Wow, that’s crazy. It’s good to know though. We’ll make sure we keep our doors locked.”
He frowned and shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head again. “I don’t know. You’re the only other person in all of New Haven who even noticed that this was weird. I guess I thought you’d care more.”
“Look, I don’t know what you think I can do. I don’t know anything. I barely knew Emaleigh. I was curious, but I’m not a cop. If this is a serial killer or something, the police should be looking into it.”
“But they aren’t and they won’t. I think I’m the only person questioning any of it.”
I pressed my lips together. “If I could help, I would.”
His blue eyes stared intently into mine. “You really don’t know anything, do you?” He studied my face carefully. “I thought you did.”
I shook my head.
He blew out a breath. “So much for intuition. Look, I promise I’m not crazy or desperate for a story. I just want answers.”
“Don’t we all.”
“Yeah.” He raised his eyebrows in a silent “What are you going to do about it?” challenge. “Enjoy the snow day.”
The door jingled as he walked out.
I watched him retreat across the street then joined Katrina in the quiet corner where she was crammed into the couch with the huge book laying across her lap.