Describing the scenario forced me to analyze it with a clinical eye. Nurses are assaulted more than any other helping profession. Sick people aren’t in their right minds, and drug users often have what seems like superhuman strength. I’d been taking self-defense classes for years and had to use my skills on more than one occasion. The fact that the man attacked me outside the hospital was irrelevant. He’d seen my scrubs and wanted something from me. What had he said? Hecate? Probably a new name for Heroin. Maybe he thought I could get him some.
Still, I was halfway home before I remembered the coffee in my cup holder. I didn’t need it anymore. The scare woke me right up. I drank it anyway, lifting it to my lips with shaky hands. Why did my life have to be so bizarre? I came to Red Grove to get over Gary and move on, but all I’d found was one crisis after another. I wanted a normal life. I didn’t want to be a witch, and I didn’t want a supernatural boyfriend.
I contemplated leaving Red Grove and all of my problems behind. My mind raced while my subconscious drove. It wasn’t the safest way to travel. But before I knew it, the garage door was opening, welcoming me home.
Entering the kitchen from the garage, the smell that wafted around me made my mouth water. On the stove, a bubbling pot stirred itself. The oven opened and a roast slid out, basted itself, and retreated.
“Logan?”
He formed in front of the kitchen island. “Grateful, welcome home. How was your day?”
“Fucked up. Here’s a news flash: I can see people’s souls. Oh, and an old man with drug-induced strength tried to kill me at the coffee shop.”
Logan frowned. “Prudence says now that the caretaker has told you what you are, you’ll start to change. It’s part of the transition until you take your power back. He’s released the magic inside of you.”
I threw my keys on the counter so hard they skidded into the wall. “Isn’t that just the theme of the week? Everyone knows about how this works but me.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Save it.” I was pissed. I wanted my life back. “What is this, Logan?” I waved a hand over the bubbling mess that was my kitchen.
“Dinner. I thought we could have a date.”
“It’s not even ten. You’re hardly opaque. It’s too early for you.”
“I knew you’d be tired, and I wanted to spend some time with you before you fell asleep.”
“I…” What could I say? It was a thoughtful gesture, so why did it feel so suffocating? Even as I asked myself that question, I knew the answer. After what happened at Java Jane’s, I wanted to be alone, to pretend for one night that my house wasn’t haunted. Plus, I wasn’t ready to live with someone so soon after Gary. I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship, especially one that felt forced. Logan lived here, and I lived here. What would that mean for my desire not to choose? I needed time and space. But how did I tell Logan? “I have to talk to Prudence.”
“Why? Have you decided already? And after last night?”
“I haven’t decided anything. I just think I need all of the information from the source. Prudence was the last person to talk to me when I was the witch. I need to know what I said to her. I need to know what she knows.”
“You’re considering it, being with Rick.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you. You’re the one who told me I had a choice. It goes both ways, and the only one who can make it is me.”
Logan flickered. Whatever was on the stove began bubbling over. I hurried to turn off the burner. Clarity came to me in Michelle’s words: How do you know they are what they seem?
I focused my attention on what I could see of Logan’s head. “Be honest. What’s the real reason you don’t want me to become the witch? What would make you want to be a ghost forever?”
By the length of time it took Logan to answer, I knew I was onto something. He blended into the wall, his desire to dodge the inquiry bleeding the energy out of him. But I wasn’t going to let him off that easily.
I dug in my heels. “I’ll be here all night. Oh, and the next day, and the next day. You’re kind of stuck with me. Out with it. Why are you afraid to be sorted?”
“I don’t know who I am,” he blurted.
“So? Isn’t that what the witch is supposed to figure out?”
“I don’t know what type of life I’ve lived. I don’t know who I was. Was I a doctor, a mobster, a priest, a criminal? I have no idea. Don’t you get it? I don’t know which way I’ll be sorted.”
“Oh.” It had never occurred to me that Logan could be anything but a good soul. Kindness just seemed like an integral part of his character. But he was right. I had no idea what went into sorting or how much control I’d have if I did it. What if I had to sort him to the underworld? What if Rick ended up eating his soul for supper? The thought was horrifying.
“The worst part is, if I wasn’t a good person, you’ll know. It’ll be you who makes the call. Despite what you think, I do care for you. It’s the major reason I’m not afraid to stay. Being with you, it makes this existence worth it.”
“I can’t be your whole existence.” There, I’d said it. “I’m not ready to share my life with someone yet.” Silence settled between us until we were interrupted by the timer on the oven.
“The roast is done,” he murmured.
“How did you get all of this food? I’m sure I didn’t leave a roast in the refrigerator.”
“Um, yeah, you may owe around fifty dollars to Red Grove Grocery and Pub. I had it delivered.”
“They delivered this on credit?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I may have taken the package while the delivery boy was distracted. Like, maybe the door opened by itself and the package fell from his hands before the door closed again.”
“I see. I’ll make sure the grocery gets paid, but please, in the future, give me a head’s up first. I won’t allow you to steal anything from anyone and I don’t have enough money to eat like this every night. Plus, I can’t have the residents of Red Grove suspecting this place is haunted.”
“Understood.” I could have been mistaken, but for a moment, Logan appeared to be blushing. I’d never known a ghost could blush, but then Logan was my first.
“Listen, Logan. Dinner smells awesome, but I really need to talk to Prudence before I lose my nerve. Can you get her for me?”
“Why don’t you go up to the attic to see her yourself? She’ll want to show you some things.”
“I tried. It’s locked, and I haven’t been able to find a key.”
Logan walked over to the cabinet and opened the door. A silver canister engraved with the word coffee rested in front of the Tupperware. He waited. I pulled down the canister and opened the lid. The top of a key stuck out from the grounds.
“This is why you made my coffee every morning. You haven’t wanted me to go up there.”
He nodded. “You’re right. It should be your decision, either way.”
Chapter 18
Prudence Clearwater
Old-fashioned and weighty, I rolled the antique key in my hand. The wide end looped around twice like butterfly wings before twisting and melding into the blade of the key. Was it forged by hand? Hundreds of years old? I’d never considered that if this house was built for Isabella it was ancient. A house of secrets.
I climbed the stairs one apprehensive step at a time, glancing back at Logan until I took the bend at the second-floor landing. At the attic door, I paused. What I was about to do would change me forever, no matter what I decided.
The key slid into the lock, and the mechanism began to glow. The door transformed, the chipped paint gleaming white, the wrought iron knob turning to pearl. I opened the door and stepped into pure light and warmth, an open space with soft edges and stained glass. Beyond the windows I could see it was night outside but the light came from within, from the floor and the walls. I took a step inside. The door closed behind me.
“I was wondering when you would come, Grateful.”
/> A dark-haired woman, about my age, stood near the closest window. Her heart-shaped face turned toward me. She was wearing a nursing uniform from the 1960s: white skirt, white blouse, complete with one of those white square hats that nobody wears anymore.
“Prudence?” The ghost was a far cry from the glowing torso I’d seen on my stairs, but really, who else would be in here?
“Yes, it’s me.” She smiled all the way to her eyes, a peaceful, authentic smile. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown, my dear.”
“But you look so young. Weren’t you, like, seventy when you died?”
“Seventy-two, but who’s counting? That’s the beauty of death. You can take any form from your life. Today, I’m my twenty-six-year-old self. That was the year I first met you.”
“What do you mean? I’m only twenty-two. You would have been fifty when I was born.”
“I mean, the last you. As I was saying, I was twenty-six, and you looked to be about the same age, but of course you were much older.”
“I don’t understand. You mean, I looked younger than I was?”
“Quite. The witch is not immortal in the sense that she can be killed, as you were, but she does not age, so long as she takes her caretaker’s blood.”
“Yes, the blood thing. I wanted to talk to you about that. Can you explain what exactly becoming the witch entails? I mean, does there have to be sex and blood, or is there another way?”
“Oh, dear. Have you seen the caretaker?” She giggled to herself, then frowned when I didn’t join in. “In my day, women would have clawed each other’s eyes out for a night with Rick. Have tastes changed so much?”
“Ah, no. He’s gorgeous by anyone’s standards. I’m just not sure I want to rush into a relationship.”
She knitted her eyebrows. “Rush? You do know you spent more than a lifetime together? That you were married more than once?”
“Yes, he told me. But that wasn’t this body. I don’t have those memories.”
“Oh, I see. Are you a virgin, then? Unwilling or afraid to complete the act itself? Morally against premarital sex?”
“Um, no. I lost my virginity when I was eighteen to a guy in the singles group at my church.”
“Then you are with someone? Are you still seeing the church boy, is that it?”
This was getting embarrassing. “No.”
“Then what is it, dear? What is keeping you from accepting your responsibility back from me? Is one act of sex with a gorgeous immortal for the sake of maintaining the balance of good and evil so appalling to you?”
Okay, she was getting angry. That was the voice nurses used with uncooperative patients. “It’s not just the sex. It’s what the sex means. It’s a lifetime commitment. I mean, I get freaked out when I think that I might be in the same career for the rest of my life. That’s why I chose nursing, because you can move around and do different things. But this feels permanent.”
“And what exactly is wrong with committing to your life’s purpose?”
“I…” I couldn’t answer that question.
“If you don’t take up this responsibility, Grateful, the repercussions will be horrific.”
“What? What will happen?”
“Rick will weaken. It’s what the vampires wanted when they killed you.”
“What are you talking about? I thought he was immortal?”
“Immortal he is, but Rick feeds on sex, on blood, and on love. Those were things you provided him when you were alive. Without them, he will weaken. Without you, he has to control the population of the unholy himself. More work with less strength. The last twenty-two years have been hard on him.”
“So, that’s all I am? His food?”
“Stupid girl! Haven’t you been listening at all?” She was definitely angry now. “He is yours. He is your caretaker. You strengthen him so that he can protect you. You love him and he loves you. You are the caregiver and he is the caretaker. You balance each other. There are things that you can do that Rick can’t. You were very powerful. You could be again.”
“If Rick was supposed to protect me, if I was so powerful, then how did I die?”
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Prudence moved toward an altar at the back of the room. I didn’t remember seeing it when I first came in. On top was an enormous book. When I say enormous, I mean Guinness World Record sized. Once when I was a kid, my father and I visited the Library of Congress where I saw the Gutenberg Bible. This book dwarfed that one.
“This is your spell book,” Prudence said. “It is called the Book of Light. Everything you need to know about controlling evil is in its pages. You also stored your memories in it. If you want to know how you died, open it and ask.”
I stepped up to the leather-bound volume. It took both hands working together to open the thing and as I did I said in a loud, clear voice, “How did I die?”
Light poured out of the book, blinding me. The attic melted away. When I could see again, I was standing in the graveyard, only the hedges in front of the fence were missing, so I had a clear view of Rick’s cottage across the street. The maple trees were mere saplings. Somehow I knew it was Halloween and it didn’t take long for me to figure out I was reliving my own memory.
Three teenagers paced outside the cemetery gate, two boys and a girl. Great. Hormone fueled idiocy. I couldn’t get a break tonight. I slipped behind a granite monolith because I didn’t want to give the teens any excuse to hop the fence. With any luck they’d get bored and move on.
Rick’s wings beat in the distance near the chapel on Monk’s Hill. He’d gone to break up a group of vampires congregating there. Vamps could look human when they wanted and were highly intelligent. Usually, they were selfish and territorial but lately, they’d been organizing, designating leaders and, we suspected, planning an escape. Hopefully, Rick would be able to nip the problem in the budding fang, but that meant I needed to handle these kids on my own.
My reflection in the shiny surface of the monolith temporarily distracted me. The blurred image had red hair and was wearing head-to-toe black. I lifted an arm. Leather. Wow, I was a badass in my past life.
“Come on, I’ll boost you over,” one of the boys said. He was dressed as Michael Jackson complete with sparkly glove.
“I don’t know. It looks creepy. Let’s go back to my place and hang out,” the girl said. Smart girl.
“It’ll be cool,” the other boy said. The antennas of his alien costume bobbed around his head as he spoke. He kneeled down and cupped his hands.
Maybe I gave the girl too much credit by calling her smart. She placed her foot in his palm and launched herself to the top of the fence. Once she was over, Michael Jackson helped the alien, and then, in a rare display of upper body strength, scaled the fence on his own.
“Stupid kids,” I heard myself say, only it wasn’t my voice. “You guys have to get out of here,” I whispered.
“Hey, did you hear something?” the alien said.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on sending them feelings of fear and anxiety. Pushing thoughts into people’s heads was an ability Rick was teaching me. I hadn’t mastered it yet but it was worth a shot.
The girl backed toward the gate. “I don’t like it here. Take me home,” she said to Michael Jackson.
The brain thing worked, but I’d have to hold off on my victory lap. Mist rolled in behind the teens and two vampires materialized, way too close for comfort.
“Cool!” the girl said to the vamps. “How’d you guys do that?”
The vamp closest to her held out his hand and shook his shaggy blond head. “Come here, and I will whisper the secret into your ear, Amanda.”
I cringed. He’d read her mind. I could see the girl was instantly intrigued.
“How did you know my name?” she asked.
Another vampire with a tight red buzz cut moved in. “No cheating. If you want to know the secret, you must take his hand.”
To the girl’s credit, she backed betwee
n her friends.
A third vamp emerged from shadow, a male with a long black ponytail and muscles like a linebacker. The vamps formed a triangle around the teens. Trouble.
“What are you guys doing in here?” the alien asked the vamps.
“Waiting for you,” the black-haired vamp said.
“Marcus, we were here first,” the redhead hissed and took a step toward Amanda.
“Don’t get greedy. There’s enough to go around.” Marcus appeared in front of the alien boy.
“Hey, back off, buddy,” the boy said.
The vamps had forced the teens into a tight clump and were closing in, licking their lips. So much for any hope they would scale the fence and get out of there. I braced myself for a good ol’ fashioned vampire slaying.
I stepped out from behind the tombstone, my right hand instinctively reaching for the sword I kept in the sheath down my back. “Hold it right there, bloodsuckers,” I said in that strange voice. My boots hit the stones with running steps.
The vamps glanced my way but moved toward the teens.
Screams rang out as the three teens either noticed the vampire’s fangs or my sword. They ran for the fence, but they were too late. The vamps pounced. Shaggy blond sank fang into Michael Jackson. I launched myself off a tombstone, pivoting in the air and delivering a roundhouse kick to his head before sinking my blade into the vamp’s chest. The undead exploded into a shower of sparks.
Bleeding, Michael Jackson ran for the fence and strong-armed his way over. Marcus had Amanda pressed against his body, and he was ready to strike. She didn’t stand a chance. But to get to her I needed to go through the growling and snapping ginger-headed vamp doing his best to make a meal of the alien boy. I flipped over alien’s head and drove my blade into the vamp’s shoulder. He melted like wax. Alien, ran screaming like someone was pulling his toenails out but unlike Michael Jackson, he wasn’t strong enough to pull himself over the wrought iron. I’d have to help him when I finished off the last one.
The Ghost and The Graveyard (The Monk's Hill Witch) Page 12