"No!" He shot to his feet as he said it, pacing slowly away. "No," he said more softly. "Ashley wouldn't even kill spiders."
Mirabella watched him and wished she didn't have to put him through this kind of pain, but she didn't have a choice. "What was it about her beliefs that you hated so much? I mean, there had to be something."
He shook his head. "I didn't know much about her beliefs. I didn't want to know." He met Bella's eyes. "And I still don't. It's a lot of ridiculous superstition, hocus-pocus bullshit that weakens minds, makes people believe in the impossible instead of focusing on hard, cold reality."
Bella frowned. "You really believe that?"
He nodded. "Of course I do. And it was my wife who proved it to me beyond any doubt."
Mirabella tilted her head to one side. "How?"
"She died, Bella." He sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. "She had ovarian cancer. She and her crazy friends thought they could beat it, even when the doctors had given up hope. But all their healing spells and chanting and herbal teas and candle burning didn't do a damn bit of good. If there were any such thing as magick or Witchcraft, then how could she have died? How could she possibly have been yanked away from me-from Rowan-so far before her time?"
Bella went to him, touched his face. "My sweet Jonathon...if it was before her time, she wouldn't have gone. She left because she had accomplished what she came into this lifetime to do. Maybe her mission was to give life to Rowan. Maybe she just wanted to experience being loved by a man like you. Or having a daughter, or...no one can say. But she's not really gone. She's only moved on."
He shook his head. "It's smoke and mirrors. Garbage. And now it's being used to twist young minds like that of Bryan Marcomb, and look at the results." He stared at her, shaking his head slowly. "You're a teacher, Mirabella. God, you of all people should know better than to believe in...in Witches, for God's sake."
"It would be awfully hard not to," she said. "Considering I am one."
He slammed his eyes closed, swore under his breath.
Mirabella took a step away from him. "I've kept the truth to myself long enough, Jonathon. Something's going on...something that involves you, and me, and Rowan. And...and maybe Ashley. Now you can believe what you want about me, my spirituality, my powers or lack thereof, but you must know damn well I would never do anything to hurt your daughter." She licked her lips. "She's in danger, Jonathon."
His head came up slowly, eyes narrowing on her. "What kind of danger?"
"The same kind that Bryan Marcomb was in."'
"Suicide?" He gripped her wrists tight. "Suicide? For God's sake! What do you know? And how do you know it? Tell me. Mirabella."
She glanced downward, at where he held her, and he eased his grip, but didn't let go. "I don't know anything. Except that someone is trying to help me protect Rowan. When that truck almost hit her. I saw a woman, pointing, and I knew what was about to happen."
He frowned. "What...could the truck possibly have to do with-"
"Not the truck. The woman. I think she was Ashley."
He released her wrists as if they'd turned into snakes and would bite him. His lips parted, and his face twisted into a grimace as if he'd just bitten into something sour. "My God. You're right, Mirabella. I don't know you. Not in the least."
She managed not to flinch at his words. She had to get through this, tell him everything. "I've seen her again, too. At my house, standing behind me in the mirror. And Rowan's been seeing her as well."
"Oh, for the love of Christ!" He threw up his hands. "Enough. It's enough. Just stop it."
"She's trying to warn us. Damn it, she'd probably come to you too, if you weren't too closed-minded to let her."
"It's bullshit!"
"Is it?" She drew a breath, sighed deeply. Then lowering her head, shook it from side to side. "I guess it's time I went home." When he started to move, she held up a hand. "No. I'll walk. It's only a few blocks, and...I like the night."
"You shouldn't walk alone."
"I want to. I have a lot of thinking to do. And Jonathon, so do you. Rowan is hurting and confused. Maybe it would be a good idea for you to learn a little bit about what it is you're condemning before you write it off, hmm? For her sake? You don't have to agree with it. You don't have to believe in it. Just respect it for what it is, and know it for what it isn't. Witches don't sacrifice animals, Jonathon. And they don't drive kids to suicide."
He lowered his head. "I know that much."
"Do you? Do you really?" She shook her head slowly, and walked away.
"Bella?"
She turned slowly, looked back at him.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me this before you let me...."
"Let you what? Fall in love with me?" she said. Her voice was soft with unshed tears, but she knew he could hear her. "We've been in love for a long, long time, Jonathon. Before we ever met, I think." She lowered her head. "But you don't believe in that kind of thing, do you?"
Turning, she walked away.
There was a pall over the entire town as she walked through it to school the next morning. But she stopped, when she saw the bright red spray paint and the broken glass at Gwen's place. Across the front walk in bloody lettering, were the words, "Suffer not a Witch to live."
"Oh no.," Bella whispered as a cold hand closed around her heart. "Oh, Goddess, please, no!" Racing across the street toward the shop with her heart in her throat, she shouted, "Gwen! Gwenyth!"
Gwen came out the door before she even got there. "Oh, thank goodness!" Bella said, grabbing Gwen and hugging her hard, kissing her cheek. "Thank goodness. Are you okay? Hmm?" She backed off, pressing her palms to the sides of Gwen's face. Her cheeks were tear streaked and her eyes, puffy. But she was in one piece, thank the Goddess!
Bella hugged her hard, looking past her at the men in overalls who were chipping the jagged pieces of glass out of the window, preparing to install a new one. Others were just arriving in a pick up truck, and unloading their paint and brushes. "Honey, what happened?"
"Circe's missing," she said, her voice raspy. "I'm so afraid they took her, and I just keep thinking about what's been going on with...with animals around here lately."
"Oh no," Bella whispered. "Come on, come inside, and tell me everything." She kept one arm firmly around Gwen's shoulders as she led her into the shop, through it, and to the small parlor off the back that divided the shop from the rest of the house and served as Gwen's temple room. "Sit," Bella said, pressing her into a chair. "Now talk."
Gwen lugged a tissue from her pocket and swiped at her face. "It must've been around three a.m. I heard the glass breaking. I came downstairs. The window was smashed, there was a brick on the floor." She shook her head slowly. "And I couldn't find Circe, so I went outside, calling, her and that's when I saw the paint on the front wall." She shuddered with her whole body at the memory. "I thought it was blood at first...."
"Did you call the police?"
"Yes. They're calling it vandalism."
Bella frowned. "Vandalism? This is a hate crime!"
Gwen frowned, shaking her head slowly. "This is it, Bella. I can't take it anymore. I think I'm going to go ahead and take Mark Hayes' offer on the house."
"But you can't. This was your great-grandmother's legacy. Oh. Gwen, please think this over some more."
Gwen lowered her head.
"Look, at least don't make any decisions right now. "Not when you're still this upset."
She sniffled, nodded. "I'm not going anywhere until I find out what happened to Circe, at least."
"I'm sure she just got scared by the noise and ran off to hide. She'll show up soon." She reached across the table to clasp Gwen's hands. "You want me to make you some tea?"
"No. I'm fine, really. You...probably need to go."
Bella glanced at her watch. "I have another minute or two."
"Liar." Gwen said, dashing her eyes dry. "So how are things going with the prosecutor and his daughter?"
Bella pursed her lips and shook her head. "Well, his first wife was a Witch. He seems to think that because she died of ovarian cancer, that's some kind of proof that the entire belief system is bogus. And, he knows that includes me."
"You told him?" Gwen asked, wide eyed.
"I had to." She shook her head. "His wife's name was Ashley. And I'm pretty sure I've had a couple of visitations from her. So has Rowan."
Gwen lifted her brows. "She's trying to drive you away?"
"No. I don't think so. She's trying to help me protect Rowan from...whatever the hell is about to happen to her."
"Then you have an ally."
"A powerful one, I think," Bella said.
Gwen smiled. "Well, if you see Witch Ashley again, would you ask her to look out for Circe, maybe send her home if she sees her?"
"Maybe you'll be able to ask her yourself. If you're up to a full blown ritual."
Gwen lifted her brows. "You want to try to stir her spirit, see if we can get some answers?"
"Yeah, and I'm thinking it might take the full coven to do it."
"We should have been working on uncovering the truth behind what's been going on in this town before now," Gwen said. "But everyone's been too damned scared of being found out to come to circle." She nodded. "But they'll come now. When and where, hon?"
"Tonight. The full moon's in Saturn. Couldn't be much better timing." Bella frowned. "Are you sure you're up to this?"
"You bet I am." Gwen tried a shaky smile. "In fact, it's good to have something to focus on besides worrying about my precious feline. Go on, now. You'd better get to work before they fire you."
If only Bella had known how prophetic Gwen's parting words had been.
Chapter Seven
Mirabella walked into the school building, and knew immediately the place was deserted. Of students at least. An empty school had a feel to it that was different from anything else. Even a nearly empty one tended to exude a lonely, haunted feeling.
"Ms. Saint Angeline?''
Mirabella turned her head sharply at the echoing voice and saw Sally Hayes standing in the open doorway of her office.
"Would you come into my office please?"
The woman turned before Mirabella could even answer, stepping back into her office, leaving the door open, leaving Bella no doubt she had just been summoned. A tiny shiver wandered up her spine. She knew beyond any doubt that this was not good.
Standing just inside the office doorway, she said. "Where are all the students?"
"We decided to cancel classes for today," Sally said. "Because of Bryan Marcomb's death. We felt the kids would need a day to deal with the shock. Tomorrow we'll have counselors on hand to help them talk through it."
Bella frowned. She hadn't had the TV or radio on this morning, so she hadn't heard the announcement that school was canceled. But she should have heard it, anyway. Staff were supposed to be notified by phone.
"No one called," she said. "What happened to the telephone tree? Someone cut it down?"
"We didn't call you because we wanted to meet with you this morning, Ms. Saint Angeline."
Bella frowned at the cool, formal tone. "Since when did we stop being on a first name basis, Sally?" Then she looked past her at the closed door to the meeting room, just off this one. "And what do you mean, 'we'?"
Sally Hayes opened the meeting room door. "The school board," she said.
Beyond the door, Mirabella saw the members of the school board seated around a rectangular table. She knew these people. But she'd never feared them. Today they wore the grim, stony faces of a Puritan tribunal, and she felt more than a little bit afraid.
Frowning and fighting the chill that raced up her spine, Bella went inside. Sally Hayes came behind her, closing the door. "I think you know everyone," she said. "Please, have a seat." She indicated one of the two empty chairs at the table. She took the other, at the table's head.
Mirabella sat down. "Fine. I'll play. What's this all about?"
"Ms. Staint Angeline, we have reason to believe that you are involved in the practice of the occult."
"What?"
"This emergency meeting of the board has been called in order to give you the chance to defend yourself against these accusations, and so that we may decide what action we need to take for the best interests of the students."
Bella looked slowly around the table. Not one of those present had the gumption to look her in the eye. Her hands shook where they lay flat on the table, and her voice shook when she spoke. "Wicca is a recognized religion in this country, and this state, with all the legal rights entitled to any other religion."
"The occult has been connected to a rash of vicious crimes in our town, Ms. Saint Angeline. Animals tortured and mutilated, vandalism and defacing of property, and most recently, it's been linked to the death of one of our own students. This is a serious cause for concern."
"There is no evidence whatsoever that any of the things you just named are connected to the practice of Witchcraft."
Sally Hayes' perfectly plucked eyebrows rose. "Well now, Bella, what are we supposed to think? That it's the local Baptists out there killing house cats in the graveyards in the dead of night?"
"That would be almost as ridiculous as assuming it was the local Witches," Bella said. But though she tried to sound brave, all she could see in her mind was the dream. The townspeople standing around her, condemning her, watching her burn.
The principal seemed taken aback, but only for a moment. She recovered quickly, and said, "We're not here to determine who was or was not responsible for the crimes in town. We're here to determine whether or not, you, Ms. Saint Angeline, are a member of any occult group or organization."
Mirabella said nothing.
"Well?" the woman prompted. "Do you consider yourself to be...a Witch?" she said the last with a tone of derision, her words dripping sarcasm.
Mirabella looked her in the eye. "Keep fucking with me, Sally, and you're liable to find out."
An audible gasp went up from the people at the table. She knew damn well she should have held her temper. But Witch or not, she was only human. And this was illegal, immoral, and ludicrous. Bella got to her feet. "I'm a Wiccan, a Witch, a Pagan. It's legal. You cannot discipline me for practicing my religion. And I'm not even certain you can legally ask me about it."
"We can however, discipline you for speaking to your students about that so-called religion," Sally said. "Have you been doing that?"
"Of course not!" she blurted, almost before she thought about it. Then she frowned. "Not on school grounds and not in my capacity as a teacher."
"But you have mentioned Witchcraft to students, haven't you?"
She drew a deep, slow breath. "If a student asked me flat out if I were Wiccan, I may have answered yes. I certainly wouldn't have lied. If they asked what that meant, I might have given them a basic, honest answer. That's all."
Mrs. Hayes smiled slowly. "That's all we need."
"What do you mean?"
"Mirabella Saint Angeline, you are hereby suspended without pay from your duties as a teacher at Ezra High School, and forbidden to set foot on the premises, pending a full investigation of your behavior."
"You can't do this." Bella whispered.
"We just did. We will need to formalize this with a vote, of course. But at this point, that's a technicality. It will be unanimous. Go to your classroom, gather your things, and go home."
Rowan glanced at the newspaper for the tenth time. Jonathon knew the headline by heart. "Local Teacher Suspended on Charges of Witchcraft" He'd tried to trash the evening edition before his daughter caught sight of it, but she'd snagged it from his hand the minute he started for the fireplace with it. Almost as if she were reading his mind.
"Dad, we have to do something," she said.
He'd been thinking the same thing. The question was, what? He'd insulted Bella last night, called her most cherished beliefs so much bullshit. He doubted she would want his help. And even
if she did, he wasn't sure what he could do.
"I'll try calling her again."
"Good."
He went to the phone, dialed the number, once again getting a busy signal for his trouble. He hung up. "Still busy."
"That's over an hour. Something's wrong."
He smoothed his daughter's hair. "Hon, don't jump to conclusions. She may have been getting some phone calls she didn't want. She probably took it off the hook."
Rowan grimaced. "Yeah, I can just imagine the kinds of phone calls she was probably getting."
He could too. And he didn't like what he was imagining.
"We should go over there, Dad."
"Honey...." He pushed a hand through his hair. "I just don't think...."
Rowan tipped her head to one side, searching his face with her laser beam eyes that were so much like her mother's it was uncanny. "Tell me the truth. Why don't you want to go over? No...you do want to go, don't you? You just don't want me to go."
He sighed. He couldn't lie to this kid. It just wasn't possible. "I'd rather not drag you into something until I'm sure of the situation. I don't know what's going on over there right now, and-"
"And you're overprotective and hyper to boot. Fine. I'll stay home. Just so long as someone goes over."
"I'm not real comfortable leaving you here alone either, with all that's been going on."
The doorbell rang. Sighing and rolling her eyes, Rowan went to get it. And when she came back, she had her best friend Shauna at her side. Shauna looked old, for a teenager. Dark circles under her eyes and a washed-out look to her face. Poor kid. This hadn't been easy on her.
"Shauna wants to hang out here tonight, okay, Dad?"
"Sure. How are you. Shauna?" He kept his voice soft.
"I'm gonna be all right, Mr. Hawthorne. I just wish it would stop hurting."
He reached out a hand to stroke the girl's hair. "It eases up in time. After awhile, you'll be able to remember the good times and even smile a little. I promise."
She looked up at him. "I guess if you can say that, then I have to believe it."
Witch Moon Page 6