Ghostly Curse

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Ghostly Curse Page 7

by Cadie Snow


  Jaime took Harper’s arm to lead her to the sitting room. “Come as soon as you’re free. It really is important.”

  Harper took a seat. “What happened yesterday? You left without talking to us after the meditation.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Jaime said. “I have a lot to tell you.”

  Olivia came in, flustered, wiping her hands on a towel. “I had my assistant cook take over.” She sat on the edge of the sofa. “What’s so urgent?”

  Jaime told her sisters about the revelatory meditation, as well as the ghostly dream she had. She mentioned last night’s ghost intrusion in passing, as more evidence that she needed protection. “I know this is a lot to process, but I wanted you to be aware that I’m in peril.”

  “It sounds like we are, too,” Olivia said.

  “This is distressing news,” Harper said.

  After further discussion, it was decided that Jaime’s house should be ghost-proofed. That included a standard cleaning using white sage, sea salt, and a bell. Jaime would open every door and sprinkle salt along each doorway to absorb negative energy.

  If ghosts intruded, she’d hold a bowl of burning sage and walk clockwise through each room, with someone by her side ringing the bell to create disruptive vibrations. She would say in a direct manner, “This is my home. I don’t want you here. You have to leave.” She wouldn’t be asking but telling the ghosts to leave, in an inoffensive way.

  “Since ghosts are attracted to negative emotions or feelings,” Olivia said, “you don’t want to be a magnet for negative energy. You need to lighten up the mood over there.”

  “I’m trying,” Jaime said. “Believe me, it’s not easy with all that’s going on.”

  “Put out your black crystals,” Harper said. “You need all the protection you can get.”

  “And what about…everything else?” Jaime said.

  “I’ll contact the cousins and put them on alert,” Olivia said. “They have powers too, you know. And whoever thinks he can mess with your psychic ability will have more than he can deal with.”

  “And all of us need to keep our phones handy,” Harper said. “Olivia and I will be there in a flash if you need us.”

  With her sisters by her side, Jaime wouldn’t be an easy mark. But she was uneasy defending her family against an enemy she couldn’t identify. There was more to be gleaned from her dream, and she intended to put her mind to it—first chance she had.

  It was Friday night, so the boys watched a movie after dinner. Jaime went upstairs to talk with Abigail. Her concern was that her daughter may have powers she wasn’t aware of. The mention of powers had struck a chord.

  There was a chance that Abigail had abilities, and Jaime needed to assist her in developing them correctly. Pretending that wasn’t going to happen was ill-advised. The time to step in was before there was trouble.

  If Abigail had discovered powers, she needed guidance. Until now, the issue hadn’t come up. For years, Abigail had been curious about Jaime’s skills as a witch. But that was all it had been. Abigail hadn’t demonstrated abilities of her own.

  Yet she was Jaime’s daughter, and since being a witch was inherited, it was best to face the obvious. Sooner or later, Abigail’s inherent powers would likely blossom. Every daughter needed a mother to assist with education, so the skills would properly develop.

  Abigail was at her desk, scrolling on her phone.

  “Can we talk?” Jaime said, then took a seat on the bed. “I’d like to hear more about what you mentioned the other night. Elijah was out of line.”

  “I’m sorry,” Abigail said. “I didn’t mean to explode like that. It’s as though I had no control over myself, like another force was prodding me.”

  “It was odd behavior for you.”

  “The last time I visited, Elijah was…weird.”

  “How, exactly?”

  Abigail furrowed her brow. “Like, talking about witch stuff…a lot. Saying strange things about powers. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense. And then something happened.”

  “What was that?”

  “Promise you won’t be mad?”

  “Of course not,” Jaime said. “You can tell me.”

  “Well, I’ve been curious about witchcraft,” Abigail said. “I didn’t understand why you thought it was bad and you refused to do it anymore. Plus, I have had some feelings of my own.”

  Jaime listened without being judgmental.

  “While I was away from home,” Abigail said, “I decided to try one of those psychic meditations that you do. So, I went in the bedroom and shut the door. I was in some sort of trance when Elijah barged in.”

  “Without knocking?”

  “Yes, with no warning at all,” Abigail said. “It snapped me out of it, only I was still kind of dazed. Elijah had this look on his face. I can’t describe it. His eyes glazed over and he looked…scary. Anyway, he went on a tirade about powers.”

  “That stuff you told me about how you can be more powerful?”

  “Yes, he was crazed…shouting and stuff.” Abigail frowned. “I swear he put some kind of spell on me.”

  Jaime went over to hug Abigail. “Oh, honey. It’s awful that you had to go through that.” She looked at her daughter. “Trust me, Elijah isn’t magic; he didn’t put a spell on you. But he was a bad influence, and he upset you.”

  “He freaked me out.”

  “Well, he won’t be able to do that anymore,” Jaime said. “I’m finished with him. His behavior was unacceptable. You won’t be visiting again.”

  Abigail lit up. “Really? That’s great.”

  “And we are going to spend some time together,” Jaime said. “We’ll see what abilities you have, and I’ll help you develop them—whatever they are.”

  “I thought you were out of the witch business.”

  “Yeah, well…I’m back in the witch business.”

  Jaime was annoyed with Elijah. He had no business goading Abigail until she was in such an emotional state. His behavior was reprehensible, and it was going to stop. There was no way the kids were visiting him again. Enough was enough.

  Saturday morning, Jaime decided to sleep in, but she was awakened by a pounding at the door. She’d gotten up for a few minutes to see the boys off to soccer practice. Abigail was still in her room.

  Jaime slipped on a robe and scooted downstairs to see what the disturbance was. She looked out to see Elijah standing on the porch. Of all the nerve. She was ready to give him a piece of her mind. Last night, Abigail had helped her ghost-proof the house.

  There was salt in the doorway and Jaime hoped he slipped in it and fell on his head. She yanked the door open. “What do you want?”

  “I demand to see Abigail.”

  “You scared me to death,” Jaime said. “Have you ever heard of calling first?”

  “You were supposed to call and set up a visit,” Elijah said. “You screwed up. I want to see her.”

  “No way,” Jaime said. “You can’t bully your way in here and take her away, to do God knows what.”

  Elijah shoved her out of the way, salt crunching under his shoes. “Abigail!”

  Jaime raced ahead and blocked his path. “I want you to leave. Do you hear me?” She turned to see Abigail standing at the top of the stairs, looking white as a ghost.

  Elijah made a move toward the stairs, so Jaime grabbed his shirt sleeve. “Don’t go up there.”

  The look in Elijah’s eyes startled Jaime. She’d seen him angry before, but he was livid.

  “Make him go away, Mama.” Abigail looked terrified. “I don’t want to see him.”

  Jaime had a sense of impending doom and knew she had a split second to do something. Abigail was vulnerable. Stopping Elijah was proving difficult, and he was a foot taller than Jaime and outweighed her by a hundred pounds.

  Elijah sprinted for the stairs, and Jaime lifted her hands in the air. She chanted a spell her mother had taught her and put all her force into it. Then a crackle sounded ab
ove her head, before a bolt of energy hit its target.

  Elijah flew forward and tripped on the stairs, immobilized for a second. Jaime strode to his side. “Shall I go on? That was only a taste of the magic I will use to protect my daughter.”

  For a moment, Elijah looked like he was going to say something, but he was too stunned. He reached for the banister and pulled himself up. “You could have killed me.”

  “That’s possible.”

  Jaime gave Abigail an encouraging look, then turned back to Elijah. “I’ll only ask you one more time. Please leave my home.”

  When Elijah was gone, Jaime locked the door. That was close.

  “Come on down, honey. He’s gone.”

  Abigail leaned into her mother’s arms, hugging her tight. “I’m afraid of him, Mama. I was terrified that he was going to take me.”

  “No, honey…I won’t let anyone take you,” Jaime said, holding her daughter tight. “You’re safe with me.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Jaime was shaken by the incident. She called Ian, then managed to get ready before he arrived. He was a good friend, but she preferred not to greet him in her terrycloth robe. A parent brought the boys back from soccer practice, just as Ian pulled up.

  Through the window, Jaime watched the boys playfully wrestle with Ian before coming inside. It was a heartwarming scene and drew her closer to Ian, a friend she could depend on. He was like part of the family, and the kids considered him so.

  Jaime opened the door, and the boys ran inside. “There’s food in the kitchen,” she said, then turned to Ian. “Come on in.”

  While the boys ate and Abigail got dressed, Jaime had a chance to relay what had happened. “I hate to keep calling you with emergencies, but…”

  “I want you to call me,” Ian said, pacing the living room. “I don’t like this at all.”

  “It caught me off guard,” Jaime said. “I didn’t expect Elijah to get aggressive.”

  “You could have been hurt.” Ian furrowed his brow. “You mentioned that you stopped him. How did you do that, exactly?”

  Jaime hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. Ian knew about the claims that her family members were witches. And she’d spoken of it before, yet not in this type of situation. She’d talked about it in general terms, and Ian had seemed open—but only because he was such a good friend.

  Ian had taken her side in any attacks on her character, but that didn’t mean he believed in witchcraft. She didn’t want to lose him as an ally, so debated on how to handle this. “I tripped Elijah and he fell on the stairs.”

  For a moment, Ian appeared to think that over. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Is there more to that?”

  “If there was, would you want me to tell you?”

  “I appreciate you offering me a way out,” Ian said. “But I can’t defend you if I don’t know the facts. Did you employ a tactic that’s effective in taking down an attacker who is twice your size?”

  “Witchcraft,” Jaime said. “It was a spell that I remembered.”

  “You don’t say.” Ian tried to suppress a smile. “I’m not going to argue with you about that. I’m not on solid ground here. I have faith that you did what you needed to.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The problem is what to do next.” Ian sat in the chair across from her. “It could happen again.”

  Jaime raked her hands through her hair. “It’s so exasperating. I tried to do the right thing in letting him see the kids. It’s difficult to figure out how things got to this point. Elijah was a pain when I was married to him, but he wasn’t violent. I don’t know when he started to change and why I didn’t see it sooner.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Ian said. “You see him infrequently. Who knows what has been going on in his life? What I care about is you and the kids. Stronger measures are called for.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “You should file for a restraining order,” Ian said. “You wouldn’t be the first to get one against a threatening ex-spouse.”

  “I’ll call my divorce attorney. He should be able to handle that for me.”

  Ian leaned forward. “Can I ask you something else?”

  “Sure, anything at all.”

  “What’s with the salt in all the doorways?”

  Jaime laughed. “Uh…protection from ghosts.”

  “I had to ask,” Ian said with a grin. “Does it work?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  The morning of the memorial arrived. The event was held on the grounds of the bed and breakfast, and was a celebration of life, as Iris had requested. It was not intended to be a sad affair but a way to honor a loved one who had passed on.

  When Iris had made her wishes clear, she hadn’t expected to die under strange circumstances. But celebration it was intended to be, and celebration it was. It seemed anyone within a feasible radius attended.

  The family would have filled the yard all by themselves. But Iris had many friends, and not all were magic. Townspeople who adored her arrived in droves. Even the sheriff was there, wearing dress clothes instead of his uniform.

  Abigail, Landon, and Andrew looked like they were going to a birthday party. The boys wore starched shirts and dress pants. Abigail looked pretty in a floral print dress with a short jacket. And Jaime wore a dress with a similar print, so they matched.

  It was a big event and the cousins had come through with abundant food. There were all the traditional dishes, plus some specialty items that Sophia had concocted. Ava was in charge of decorations and came through in style. There were streamers and balloons in every spare inch, and paper lanterns hanging from the trees.

  Ian looked handsome in a navy blazer over a cream shirt with slacks. Jaime had seen him out of uniform before, but not dressed for a party. She rather liked the look and told him so. That seemed to please him more than she expected.

  Music played and some of the guests danced. There were a few people Jaime didn’t recognize, and she assumed they were tourists staying over. It would be just like Olivia to invite them. The occasion was a tribute to Aunt Iris, so the more the merrier.

  It was a fitting memorial and the tone was upbeat. But it was difficult for Jaime when the relatives were given a chance to speak. One after the other, they gave short speeches about Iris, about her kind heart and buoyant spirit. Olivia read a poem that she’d written for the occasion, which brought Jaime to tears.

  The lovely rhyme had Jaime so choked up that she didn’t hear all the words. It was something about gentle autumn rains, singing birds, and stars that shone. Olivia had managed to capture the essence of Iris, her nature and spirit, in a poem.

  Tears streamed down Jaime’s checks, and she slipped away to find a place to cry privately. She hadn’t really grieved, hadn’t had the chance. She sobbed now, because she adored Iris and would miss her. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, sure that her mascara was a mess.

  Harper found Jaime and gave her a warm hug. “I’ve done my share of crying. We’ll all miss her.”

  “I suppose the loss finally hit me,” Jaime said. “And the situation is so unsettled. When this celebration ends, it’s not really over. Who is next?”

  Harper bit her lower lip. “Don’t think that way. We aren’t going to let anything happen to another family member. We won’t be caught unaware again.”

  Jaime wasn’t so sure. The circumstances of the untimely death were a mystery. There had been no evidence of violence, and yet…

  “We should get back out there before we’re missed,” Harper said, so Jaime followed her back to the party. “I think cousin Ava is going to sing.”

  “Are my eyes puffy?” Jaime said.

  Harper rubbed her finger under Jaime’s eyes. “No, you look beautiful. All your mascara is gone, though.”

  Harper disappeared into the crowd, only Jaime didn’t make it back out to the lawn. Elijah blocked her path.

  “You weren’t invited,” Jaime said, glaring at him.

  “I
’m part of the family.” Elijah wore a faded polo shirt and khaki pants, more appropriately dressed to hang out with his buddies than to pay tribute to a dear loved one. “You can’t keep me out.”

  Elijah’s grimace caused Jaime to pull back. He seemed to morph before her very eyes. She’d considered him a respectable member of the community, a decent man—even if he was annoying more often than not. And he was a good-looking guy…or had been.

  Jaime blinked and looked again, thinking her mind was playing tricks on her. She tried to remember why she’d hooked up with him in the first place. And she wondered if he’d looked like this and behaved so rudely when she lived with him.

  Elijah smirked, and Jaime flinched. What was he here for, anyway?

  “It would be better if you’d leave,” Jaime said, staring into Elijah’s cold eyes. His brown eyes looked like empty voids, dark and forbidding, making her recoil.

  “Or what?” Elijah said. “You’ll use your witchcraft?”

  “Don’t start this here,” Jaime said. “This is my aunt’s memorial.”

  “I guess you should have thought of that the other morning,” Elijah said. “Before you attacked me and threw me out of the house, forbidding me to see my daughter.”

  Jaime stared. “Abigail is not your daughter.”

  “Oh, isn’t she?” Elijah said. “We’ll see about that.”

  “You’re threatening me?” Bile rose in Jaime’s throat. It was clear that Elijah was coming after Abigail. She couldn’t fathom why, but her protective instincts kicked in.

  “You think you’re just so powerful.” Elijah huffed. “You use your cheap witch tricks to get what you want. But you won’t get away with it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Elijah moved closer, so Jaime stepped back. “You keep away from me, and from Abigail…do you hear?”

  Ian was suddenly by her side. “You heard the lady. She doesn’t want you around. You have no right to be on this property. This is a private home.”

  “Yes, sheriff.”

  The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Jaime. It was abundantly clear that Elijah had no respect for anyone.

 

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