by Cadie Snow
“Why was she way out there, in a ditch outside of town?” Harper said.
Jaime put her finger to her lips, “Shh.” Then the kids barreled down the stairs.
“Abigail told us we’re going for pizza?” Landon said. “Is it true?”
“Of course it’s true,” Abigail said. “I wouldn’t lie.” The bell rang. “See, I was right. That must be Ian.”
The kids raced to the door to let Ian in. He whooped when Landon jumped into his arms. Then he grinned at Abigail.
Andrew bolted for the door. “I get the front seat.”
“We’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Ian said to Jaime. “Hi, Harper…Olivia. Want me to bring some food back?”
“Sure, that would be great,” Jaime said. “No pepperoni.”
“Got it.” Ian shut the door to chase after the kids.
Jaime turned to her sisters. “I’ll get you something to drink, then we can talk on the back patio.”
With a pitcher of tea, the three sisters settled into the outdoor chairs. Jaime tried to recover from the shock. It was going to take some time, but that was one thing she didn’t have. She was next in line, which meant that with Iris gone, leadership of the coven was in her hands.
Jaime had a crazy impulse to refuse. A couple of fleeting thoughts went through her mind, but there was no way out. She loved her family and would not abandon them in this time of need. It was a major change, but she would be equal to the task.
Olivia looked into the distance. It was sunset and the horizon was orange, the trees golden and dark. “With Iris gone,” she said, turning to Jaime, “the power is passed to you.”
“We’re going to do this together,” Jaime said.
“Absolutely,” Harper said. “We are stronger as three. You aren’t alone in this.”
Jaime sighed with relief. Her power came from family, and that she had in abundance. It was decided that each sister would play a role in running the coven. Each had a unique power, and together their strength was unbeatable.
The next morning, the kids were happy to learn that they didn’t have to go to school. Aunt Harper was taking them on a field trip to the adventure park. Even Abigail was pleased and kept the drama to a minimum. She mentioned that she had to be home in time to do a book report, but otherwise offered no complaint.
“We’re going gem hunting,” Harper said. “And we can drive mini cars and go in the bounce house.”
“Can we play paintball?” Landon said. “Pleeease, Aunt Harper?”
Harper ruffled his hair. “I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll lose,” Andrew said, chasing his brother out the door.
“Okay, I’ll have them back before dinner,” Harper said.
When the door closed, Jaime dressed to go meet Olivia at the morgue. She already knew the outcome, but the official ID had to be made. Ian had agreed to meet them and had read the coroner’s report. That was good, because Jaime had some questions for him.
Dread loomed, as Jaime didn’t want to see her aunt’s lifeless form. She envisioned Iris alive and active, as she had been at her birthday party. Her untimely death seemed inconceivable, and Jaime didn’t know what she’d find.
Olivia had gotten there first, so was waiting in the lobby. “The kids are off with Harper?”
“Yes, she will make sure they don’t watch any television or news,” Jaime said. “But I’m going to have to tell them soon.”
Ian arrived, looking as sad as Jaime felt. “We can talk afterward. The coroner reported the death was due to natural causes.”
Olivia raised her brows.
“Heart attack,” Ian said.
The coroner came out to usher them to the viewing room. It was the coldest place Jaime had been. The identification didn’t take long. There had been no visible injury to Iris, so she looked very much as she had in life.
Jaime would have described her aunt as peaceful, only she wasn’t. If Iris was around, she didn’t show herself. But Jaime sensed emotions that were disturbing. Dying unexpectedly was upsetting, but there was more to it in this case.
Iris didn’t seem able to communicate from the spirit world right then. But Jaime perceived the distress. There was something amiss, yet what wasn’t clear. That would be for Jaime to figure out…when she was in a warmer room.
Jaime shivered, then nodded. “That is my aunt, Iris Sanders.”
Olivia agreed, so the coroner showed them out.
Once in the lobby, Olivia said goodbye. Jaime turned to Ian. “Can we talk?”
“Let’s go for a drive up to the lake,” Ian said. “I told my boss that I’d be gone for a while.”
Canal Lake wasn’t too far, so Ian drove up there. He parked, and Jaime walked with him through the trees along the water. She had so many questions that she hardly knew what to ask first.
“What was your aunt doing near that ditch?” Ian said, taking the words out of her mouth.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Jaime said. “Iris was a social butterfly, but she didn’t go off to deserted places.”
“It appears that heart attack was the cause of death,” Ian said. “You were close to her. Did she mention having any issues with her heart?”
“No, she was healthy, other than arthritis in her right knee,” Jaime said. “It was from an old injury…battle wound.”
Ian stopped walking. “Battle?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time.”
“Supernatural stuff?”
Jaime nodded. “But there wasn’t a thing wrong with her heart. She would have told me, would have prepared me.”
Ian looked puzzled. “I suppose a woman of her age could have a sudden heart attack.”
“In a ditch…outside of town?” Jaime couldn’t get past that. Natural causes covered way too much territory to suit her. Her aunt’s body at the bottom of a ditch, off the main road, was anything but natural.
Ian was quiet.
“How am I going to tell my kids?” Jaime said. “It would be difficult enough to tell them Iris died without the strange circumstances involved. But I can’t hide the truth from them.”
“It’s tough with kids,” Ian said. “When they are young, death seems so far off. Eventually, most have to deal with losing a loved one. How are you going to explain it?”
“I’m not sure,” Jaime said. She’d have to be straight with them. The worst thing for a kid was being told some fabricated tale. Somehow the truth was better, even when it was hard to deal with. That was one thing Jaime’s mother had done right. She’d been honest in educating her about life, and about coven affairs.
Jaime had an hour to prepare before the kids got home. The sooner she told them, the better. The longer she waited, the more chance that they’d hear about Iris from another source. And that would be worse. After they’d cleaned up from the trip to the park, she called them into the living room.
Abigail sat on the sofa and wrapped her arms around her bent legs. The boys sat on the floor with their backs against a stuffed chair, looking up with wide eyes.
“I have to tell you something, and I don’t want to put it off.”
“What is it?” Abigail said, sounding very adult.
“Your Aunt Iris is dead,” Jaime said. “I’m very sorry.”
Abigail looked stunned.
“What did she die of?” Landon said in a quiet voice.
“Her heart failed,” Jaime said. “That’s all that I really know.”
Tears filled Abigail’s eyes, and Jaime fought back her own grief. She hadn’t had a good cry yet, and felt one coming on. She wouldn’t hide it from the kids. Grief was better expressed.
“How do you know?” Andrew said. “Where is Aunt Iris?”
Jaime proceeded to share all she knew, including that Iris had been missing and had turned up dead in a ditch not far from town. She spoke of family and sticking together, then she told them how much she loved them. The kids seemed to take it all in, and though tears f
illed their eyes, they continued to listen. But once Jaime was finished, the questions poured out.
“Those are the same questions I have,” Jaime said. “All I can say is that I don’t know anything other than what I’ve told you. And when I find out more, I will let you know.”
“Can I go to my room?” Landon said, wiping his eyes. If he wished to grieve in private, that was fine. He had a sensitive nature, so no doubt the news hit him hard.
“Of course you can,” Jaime said. “I’ll be up to tuck you in.” She opened her arms, and he gave her a hug, then walked slowly toward the stairs.
“Me too?” Andrew said.
“Yes, if you don’t have any more questions for me now.” Jaime watched Andrew race up the stairs. He didn’t stop for a hug, likely unwilling to share his emotions. She would talk with him alone soon.
Abigail jumped to her feet and glared at Jaime. “It’s not good enough.”
Jaime waited, fully expecting her daughter to burst into tears. Instead, Abigail’s brown eyes were glassy, as if she was possessed.
“Why didn’t you do anything about it?”
“Honey, I would have,” Jaime said. “She died of natural causes.”
“I don’t believe you,” Abigail said. “Elijah says you have powers, more than you have been using. You could have done something.”
Jaime was thrown off. What did Elijah have to do with this? “What did he say, exactly? You know I tried to avoid witchcraft.”
Abigail stood tall, her hair wild around her face, anger blazing in her eyes. Jaime barely recognized her daughter. “Elijah told me that I have powers, too. He said that he’d help me, that I can be more powerful than you.”
The vileness that Elijah spewed didn’t seem to end. “That’s a lot of responsibility to put on a young girl,” Jaime said. “I don’t know about having powers. You are a very talented person, in many ways. But I don’t think you want to be more powerful than me. I don’t think you know what you’re saying.”
Jaime wanted to cradle her daughter in her arms and encircle her with love. Whatever lies Elijah had told Abigail had succeeded in badly upsetting her—and the timing couldn’t be worse.
“I understand that what Elijah told you was confusing,” Jaime said. “He must have known it would upset you.” Maybe that was the purpose, another way for him to harass Jaime—and she didn’t appreciate him using her daughter to do it.
“You don’t understand anything.” Abigail fled from the room, then ran up the stairs and slammed the door to her room.
Jaime reeled with the possibilities. What had Elijah really said—what had he done? Her mistrust of him had ballooned into hatred. How dare he turn Abigail against her? He didn’t have any magic powers. He only knew witchcraft existed because he’d been married to Jaime.
That had to be what this was about. Elijah knew that Jaime had a weak point on the subject, that she was vulnerable. He knew what he was doing and was aware that talking to Abigail about such things would disturb Jaime. There had to be a way to stop him.
Jaime wasn’t about to stand by and let him use her daughter to manipulate her. Elijah might bluster about having powers, and who was most powerful. But he’d overlooked that the only power he possessed was the power she granted him. If he behaved this way, Jaime would cut off the visitation. He couldn’t abuse his right to communicate with Abigail if he couldn’t see her.
Jaime was furious. Powers. Elijah didn’t know what he was fooling around with. She’d show him powers if he kept pushing. And she’d guarantee it would be more than he could handle. While married, she’d been respectful, cautious not to exhibit more supernatural ability than he could handle. The gloves were off now; he was a threat to her children.
CHAPTER 6
Breakfast the next morning was somber. The kids ate in silence and went off to school. Jaime let them be. She had to give them a chance to grieve and to decide how they felt about everything. She wouldn’t force them to go to the funeral but would bring them with her if they wanted to attend.
Abigail seemed a bit better, but she didn’t look at Jaime. She ate her usual skimpy breakfast in silence, and when she heard the beep, she grabbed her bag and left. She disappeared without even a goodbye.
Jaime had expected her daughter to claim her independence when she hit her teens. But Abigail’s behavior went beyond that. There was more going on inside her head than Jaime knew—but she intended to find out.
It was fine to discuss witchcraft, even desirable. But Abigail needed to know the truth, not some hyped-up version concocted by Elijah. It was astounding that he thought he knew so darn much, when he didn’t know anything at all. The least likely man to understand Jaime and her powers was Elijah.
There would be an autopsy, yet Jaime thought that was pointless. Her aunt was gone; she had to face that. Her dreams of a normal life had been dashed. She couldn’t ignore her responsibilities, and she wasn’t about to hide from any challenges.
Jaime felt exhausted and a little beaten down. She just needed a brief rest, a day without something dramatic happening. The best thing she could do for her kids was to keep to their usual routine, provide the stability that they needed.
She cleaned up the kitchen then tended to some bookkeeping. But her eyes grew heavy. All she needed was a quick nap, then she’d feel better. So, she went up to her room and stretched out on the soft comforter. The instant she closed her eyes, she was asleep.
Andrew was in class, trying to pay attention. It was a spelling and grammar lesson, which he couldn’t have cared less about. He had more important things on his mind. He’d just finished a science project, which he’d been much more interested in.
Then the kid next to him kicked him. The kid’s name was Lester. He was jealous, because he wasn’t as strong or tough as Andrew. So he was a pest in class, and totally annoying. “I’m surprised you’re in school,” Lester said. “I heard your aunt died.”
The fluorescent lights flickered, and the teacher looked over. “No talking in class.” But Lester wouldn’t listen. He kicked Andrew harder. “Too bad. I’m real sorry to hear that.”
Andrew drew on his strength. He’d been practicing without telling his mother. She was all sensitive about supernatural abilities for some reason. He harnessed the electrical particles from the lights and redirected them down. A ray of energy hit the floor behind Lester’s chair, and he jumped up. Flames licked the papers on the desk.
Andrew focused and sent a bolt of electricity against the back wall. It cracked a bulletin board in two, and one half swung down, dangling. The teacher grabbed the fire extinguisher and put out the fire before any more desks went up in flames.
Lester was visibly shaken. “You did that on purpose.”
“So what if I did?” Andrew said calmly.
The teacher put her arm around Lester, but he leaned closer to Andrew. “How did you do that? I want to know. Your family is all witches. I’ve heard about you!”
“Children, go outside,” the teacher said, trembling. “Single file and stay calm. No talking. I’ll call the janitor to clean this up.”
Andrew was pleased with himself. No one was going to push him around or tease him. His aunt was dead, but it was nobody’s business. Lester deserved that, and he was such a baby—scared of a little electricity.
The sun warmed her face, and Jaime opened her eyes. She looked out the window, still enveloped in the dream. The images filled her mind and emotions surfaced. Andrew was upset about his aunt. She knew that, so she’d dreamed about it. After dinner, she’d talk with him and get him to share his feelings.
Her phone vibrated. It was the school calling. “Hello, this is Jaime.”
“I’m glad I reached you. We have a situation here.”
“Mr. Simms?”
“Yes, you need to pick up your son immediately.”
“Which son?”
“Andrew.”
“Has something happened?”
“I’ll explain when you get h
ere.”
Jaime had an awful feeling. It was too coincidental that the principal called right after her dream. She dreaded to think what had happened.
She splashed some water on her face, grabbed her purse, and headed to the elementary school. At the principal’s office, she found Andrew and Landon sitting in chairs along the wall in the hallway.
“I hope this isn’t what I think it is,” Jaime said.
Andrew didn’t look sheepish, as he should have if her suspicions were correct. On the contrary, he looked proud. Jaime tapped on the frosted-glass door then went inside.
Mr. Simms got straight to the point. A ruckus had occurred during fourth-grade English. He recited what he’d been told. “The other boy is upset about your family being witches. I don’t go along with that, since that sort of stuff doesn’t exist.”
Jaime bit her tongue; they were in enough trouble.
“I’m sure your son Andrew was involved,” Mr. Simms said. “I don’t know how he caused it, and frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is the safety of the children in this school.”
“I can’t blame you for that.”
“I’ve suspended Andrew for the rest of the week, to give him time to consider his actions and treatment of classmates,” Mr. Simms said. “I suggest you find out what his involvement was and have a serious talk with him. An apology to the other child would be appreciated.”
Jaime left, rattled by what she’d been forced to realize. Andrew had abilities, and now that he’d tasted power, it would be difficult to get him to abstain. She had to make him understand the consequences of using his ability. It was to be used for good purposes, not just to strike back.
That might be a tricky concept to get across to a nine-year-old boy.
Without a word, Jaime went back to the hall and motioned for the boys to follow her. In the car, Landon looked out the window.
Andrew was ready to debate the issue. “Mama, you don’t know how Lester treats me.”