Ghostly Curse

by Cadie Snow

  Ava called everyone to order and they sat at a long, polished table. Jaime chose the seat at the head of the table and took charge. “We have a lot to go over this evening, and I don’t want to skip anything.” She started at the beginning, omitting nothing relevant.

  The news that Iris had been murdered hung in the air like a dark cloud over the group. After that announcement, silence followed as each coven member considered the implications. A cousin wondered aloud whether Iris’s birthday party had made her high profile. It was a mystery why she would be attacked at that time—just weeks after the party.

  Jaime agreed that it was a mystery. She added more insight about attempting to see the details of the murder through psychic meditation—but further visions of that had been blocked.

  “About that,” Ava said. “Since you had already broken through that barrier to your mind previously, the originator should have known he’d been discovered. Yet the block was still there, which leads me to believe that it was a spell on autopilot.”

  “I agree,” Sophia said. “Otherwise the block would have been removed to avoid further discovery. It’s possible to track those forces back to the originator.”

  A distant cousin, Roxanne, spoke up. “What concerns me more is the attempted theft of the Book of Shadows. It was the sort of thing Nefarious might do.”

  “That is the one group with the type of power required,” Sophia said. “It’s no small feat to foretell when Jaime would call the book forth—or to know about the book, for that matter.”

  “If that’s true,” Ava said, “that indicates that Nefarious has plotted against the Sanders family.”

  “I didn’t know that old group was still around,” Sophia said. “Didn’t they go out of fashion centuries ago?”

  That got a snicker from the crowd. But Jaime saw the truth in that supposition.

  “Nefarious never truly vanishes,” Roxanne said. “A band of evil sorcerers like that will always find new opportunity for corruption. They are the proof of the maxim that power corrupts, and that absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

  Jaime had heard tales of Nefarious since she’d been a young girl. The sorcerers had delved too deeply into the perversion of magic and had mastered the dark arts. They had achieved great power, but at the expense of their souls. Each and every one was a dangerous foe—creative and clever, as well.

  The overlord of Nefarious commanded evil deeds in pursuit of wealth and power. Wherever a sorcerer was in the hierarchy, each was evil. A primary trait of Nefarious was pride, and they’d be as likely to cheat each other as anyone else.

  The stories about Nefarious highlighted their delusions of grandeur. Human criminals paled in comparison to the sorcerers’ complete disregard for society or the rights of individuals. Amassing wealth was their purpose for being, second only to terrorizing and inflicting pain on the innocent.

  “Why would Nefarious reappear now?” Roxanne said, but no one seemed to have a theory that made sense. There had been no premonition about a reappearance, despite the psychic ability in the family. That was even more worrisome, because an evil so insidious as to go unnoticed by witches was truly frightening.

  “If Nefarious was behind Iris’s murder,” Olivia said, “then we have a deadly challenge ahead of us. We must not fail, as I predict a bleak future for all if we don’t succeed.”

  “We can’t allow good witches to be destroyed,” Harper said. “Despite any risk, we must protect the family. If we don’t hold the line, Nefarious will usurp our power and use it for evil.”

  “Demons all, I say.” Sophia stood up. “We must all vow, here and now, to wrest power from the hands of Nefarious. We cannot allow them to gain strength, as they did once before.”

  Jaime knew what had happened before, all too well. She would like to deny that Nefarious was their current adversary, but could not. There could be no other answer. It took powerful magic to overcome a witch. The acts against the coven already were black magic—the trademark of Nefarious.

  For the rest of the meeting, plans were drawn. Each witch had talents that could be used in defeating evil. Strategy was developed and agreements made. Nefarious would not be allowed to gain a foothold in their region. Together the Sanders witches were a stronger force than the evil that encroached upon their territory.

  Good could overcome evil, but only if they stuck together.

  It was the early hours of the morning before the group disbanded. Jaime had managed the meeting well. It had been a trial by fire, but she had come through. She drove back to town with her sisters, the amulet in her pocket. She was going to need all the protection she could get.

  CHAPTER 13

  Jaime was stunned to realize that Nefarious was active in Blairsville. Recent years had been quiet, but her mother Adele had fought the sorcerers to keep her family safe. And Iris had too, resulting in injuries—the arthritis in her knee had been a constant reminder.

  Maybe Iris had attracted negative energy. Possibly she’d antagonized the evil group. Jaime hadn’t been aware of any dealings that would have made her aunt a target. But she hadn’t asked since withdrawing from witch affairs.

  Home in her bed, Jaime stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. She wished her kids were in their rooms, because she didn’t like being alone. It wasn’t long before dawn, so she should try to get some rest. Yet it was impossible to fall asleep.

  There was so much to think about. Jaime’s father had been killed in a supernatural conflict, before she’d had a chance to know him well. Yet Adele had refused to talk about it. It made Jaime wonder what her mother had been protecting her from, what she didn’t want Jaime to know.

  It was more likely that information had been withheld to prevent Jaime from getting involved in the darker side of magic. It was one thing to cast spells, protect the innocent, or have premonitions. Yet it was quite another to fight Nefarious.

  The group was clandestine, always clever in hiding their activities. It was an effective way to avoid getting caught. That was something that Jaime needed to remember. It chilled her to think that Iris had been vulnerable. She’d been a spinster, not inclined to take a husband, despite offers.

  It occurred to Jaime that Iris didn’t want to put a man’s life at risk. Her aunt had had many male friends, yet no special one—thus, no one who would be a target. Could it have been the fear of that which kept Iris single? It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that she’d been aware of a threat.

  Jaime’s cousin Roxanne was in her late forties. It could be that she knew more about Nefarious, especially considering that she’d brought it up at the coven meeting. Jaime was tired of flying blind; she needed more information. Roxanne should be able to fill her in on more of the history involving Nefarious. Only then could Jaime be prepared as coven leader.

  When Jaime opened her eyes, sun streamed through the window. She must have drifted off. The kids had spent the night with friends, so wouldn’t be home for a while. There was something she needed to do, and the morning would be a good opportunity.

  She’d arranged for Ava to meet her at the bed and breakfast, so Jaime sent a text with the time she would be available. Then she dressed, ate a light breakfast, and went to meet her cousin. She really hoped this would work. She hadn’t caught a break regarding the current situation; it was about time she did.

  Olivia greeted Jaime as soon as she went inside, and from the look on her face, she had news. Olivia was an empath, so could absorb the emotion around her. But her talent included other superpowers, as Jaime liked to call them.

  One such power was intuition. Olivia had a sense of when physical danger was present, so could alert her sisters to negative energy or actions before too much damage was done. She didn’t disregard her gut but used it as a survival instinct.

  Jaime followed Olivia to the sitting room. “What is it?”

  “Last night I couldn’t sleep,” Olivia said. “After the meeting, I was disturbed, so I tapped into the flow that surrounded me. I
allowed the intuition in, and my mind filled with negativity.”

  “Did you see anything specific?”

  “You are in more danger than you realize,” Olivia said, taking Jaime’s hand. “You must be very cautious. The threat to your life involves greater evil than you have conceived of. I felt it and I can’t begin to describe the darkness.”

  Jaime appreciated the warning. She’d already known she was in a killer’s sights, since Iris had been murdered. As ruler of the coven, Jaime could no longer maintain a low profile and had to get to the root of the problem. Before too much longer, she must take control and turn the tables on the enemy.

  She hoped that Ava could help.

  Ava arrived as planned, then went to the meditation room with Jaime. “You stated that the block on my psychic ability could be traced. I asked you to be with me as I don’t think I can do it alone. I’ll have to focus on staying in the altered state, but you could tap into where the block is originating.”

  “Yes, I should be able to do that,” Ava said.

  Once the door to the purple room was locked, Jaime got comfortable and relaxed into a calm frame of mind. Ava was on a cushion next to her, doing the same. If this worked, it would provide a clue to the plot against them. The originator of the barrier to Jaime’s psychic ability was a key.

  Whoever had created that hidden wavelength had to be connected to the murder. Jaime tried not to think of the implications and focused on picking up the vibrations intended to block her mind. She opened her thoughts to whatever would enter.

  Sensations and random visions filtered through. Jaime remained calm, intending to concentrate on anything that seemed significant. Mentally, she reached out, waiting for a sign. Minutes ticked by, but something was wrong.

  Despite several attempts, Jaime did not perceive the block on her psychic ability. The wavelength had disappeared. She took a few deep breaths then opened her eyes.

  Ava stretched then opened her eyes too. “I didn’t pick up anything.”

  “It’s gone,” Jaime said. “The block has been removed.”

  “Then our enemies know that you spotted their handiwork,” Ava said. “It’s been taken away to avoid detection.”

  “If only I’d thought of trying this sooner.” Jaime’s confidence sagged. Yet another avenue had been cut off. She had to get smarter, and fast—or it would be too late.

  That afternoon the kids were home, after spending the night with friends. It was good to see them, and Jaime tried to put aside any negative thoughts. She did chores around the house to take her mind off pressing issues. She wasn’t alone anymore. At the meeting, her cousins had assured her of support. Even as she did her domestic tasks, other family witches were using their abilities to gain more information.

  By the end of the afternoon, Jaime was too exhausted to cook dinner. The housework had been a welcome distraction but had also sapped her strength. The lack of sleep the night before didn’t help either. The kids didn’t object to pizza delivery, and neither did Jaime.

  After the kids were in bed, Jaime got into her nightgown and slipped under the covers. It was earlier than usual, but she could barely hold her eyes open. The comforter was warm and the bed soft. Thoughts of the day drifted away.

  A gargoyle crouched before Jaime, his wings arching upward like gray spikes. The cement statue moved; the chest of the creature heaved with a deep breath. The inanimate form came to life, then bared fangs dripping with saliva.

  Jaime tried to move, but the ground beneath her shifted like she was on the deck of a ship. She looked down to see that she had no feet. Her scream was muted. No one heard her. Panic set in.

  Where was she? Jaime flailed her arms, trying to touch something, but there were no solid surfaces. A black cat strolled closer, but he was taller than Jaime. She had to look up to see him. It was like being Alice in Wonderland.

  But this was no child’s tale. A man roared at her, calling out, “Death!” Hypnotized, Jaime stared at his ugliness. He smelled of the swamp and dead fish. Jaime drew back but fell into a deep pit. Snakes writhed below, and she barely avoided the reptiles.

  Jaime gripped the edge of a rock, dangling above the gnarl of snakes. Her fingers ached and she began to slip. She was going down…down…

  With a yell, Jaime sat up in bed. Her heart pounded and she was drenched in sweat. That had been more than a nightmare. The false perceptions in her dream were like those a person would experience from hallucinogens—or from black magic.

  Jaime’s indoctrination as a witch included familiarity with dark magic. It would be foolhardy to employ the good methods of witchcraft without knowing the flip side—what could happen when magic was abused. What she’d experienced hadn’t come from her mind; it had been forced upon her.

  Jaime shuddered, realizing that the trauma was the product of sorcery. It was a way to create physical and mental duress for a victim. She was their next victim. The message reverberated to her very soul, and she hugged her pillow tight to her chest, as if to keep the evil away.

  On Sunday, Ian came by to play ball with the boys, while Abigail went shopping with a girlfriend. Jaime was never so glad to see someone. She craved a human presence, to be close to someone outside the ring of evil. She went to the park with them, wanting reality and normality.

  Jaime wished that she could tell Ian about the night before, and so much more. But she couldn’t very well explain that sorcery had terrified her. He barely believed in ghosts, much less the existence of black magic. It was all too much; even she found it so.

  But watching Ian play soccer with the twins revitalized Jaime. The smell of the grass and the warmth of the sun brought her back to life. The simple pleasures reconnected her to what was important: her children, her friends, her family.

  Yet those thoughts served to remind her of the burden she carried. Jaime dared not fail in her mission to thwart Nefarious and their plot against the coven. All she held dear was at risk. No matter how weighty the responsibility, she must not waver.

  Once the boys were worn out, Ian took them for corndogs and sodas, so Jaime went along. “You’re so good with them.”

  Ian looked at the boys playing in the fast food place while munching on their corndogs. “I enjoy it. My dad used to play sports with me. It’s important, and they don’t have…”

  “You’re right,” Jaime said. “They don’t. The one man who could have taken on the role is out of the picture—at least in the sense of being a father to them.”

  “That’s too bad,” Ian said. “I can’t understand a man like that. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

  “You have a good heart,” Jaime said, then touched Ian’s hand. She felt the warmth between them, wishing things were different.

  “Next time around, you have to choose better,” Ian said, then looked into her eyes.

  Jaime’s heart fluttered. “I don’t know if there will be a next time. But if there is…”

  Ian smiled. “Good to hear.”

  On Monday, Ian took Jaime to the crime scene, and she looked at the ditch where Iris had been found. It was quite a different scene than before. Yellow tape cordoned off the area and a crew of men in uniforms scoured the terrain.

  “The forensic investigation is underway,” Ian said. “It was a bit of a struggle getting my boss to agree. But he can’t look the other way if there is a chance that murder was committed.”

  “He believed you?”

  “Not entirely,” Ian said. “But he agreed to the preliminary investigation. Footprints were found in the dirt and appear to lead up to the location where your aunt was found. There are other suspicious things that have been discovered. The department plans to do more tests on the burn sites to determine the cause.”

  “I can’t believe that law enforcement is helping.”

  “It’s the sheriff’s job,” Ian said. “He won’t disregard evidence, that’s for sure.”

  Jaime was inspired by the support and appreciative of Ian. The downside was
that murder in a small town was big news, and the media picked up the story. It seemed like every channel reported the investigation as a breaking story.

  On radio, television, and social media, the murder investigation was the top local story. It wasn’t surprising that Elijah had heard about it, since he lived there. But he couldn’t leave it alone. It was enough that Jaime’s kids had to deal with questions at school—and that they were in turmoil over the ongoing murder investigation.

  Jaime had wondered before whether Elijah had a soul, but his actions proved to her that he didn’t. While he should have been considerate of the children, he was the opposite. The news brought attention to Jaime and her children, but Elijah seemed to get perverse satisfaction from rubbing it in.

  Taking it a step further, Elijah took it upon himself to make things worse. He agreed to an interview with a popular magazine and shared details of his married life. If only he’d talked about the good things it might have been okay, but apparently, he didn’t recall any.

  The article was in print during the peak of the news about the murder investigation. Elijah had railed on about the years he’d spent married to Jaime. He was a respected pharmaceutical rep, a family man. How could he have known that his wife was a witch?

  The interview fueled hatred toward Jaime’s family and brought more teasing at school for her kids. It seemed the public was electrified by a few examples of witchcraft. And since the reports had come from such a credible source, the allegations were believed.

  It wasn’t that witchcraft was lauded by the media. It vilified the idea, and Jaime along with it. She could have gone after Elijah for defaming her, but there was no point. He’d only find another way to harass her. It didn’t escape her notice that he seemed abnormally interested in Jaime’s powers.

  And she hadn’t forgotten his prodding of Abigail, telling her about the immense potential of her ability. What was it about Elijah? He didn’t support Jaime in any endeavor, didn’t show love for the children, yet he couldn’t let go of his warped interest in powers. Jaime thought he’d lost his mind.