by E. M. Moore
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Other Books by E. M. Moore
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Wicked Wiccans
By
E. M. Moore
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by E. M. Moore. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact E. M. Moore.
www.emmoorewrites.webs.com
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition April 2018
Other Books by E. M. Moore
Ravana Clan Vampire Series
Chosen By Darkness
Into the Darkness
Falling For Darkness
Surrender To Darkness
Order of the Akasha Series
Novella Starter — Stripped
Summoned By Magic
Tempted By Magic
Ravished By Magic
Indulged By Magic — Releases May 23, 2018
Chronicles of Cas Series
Reawakened
Hidden
Power
Severed
Rogue
The Adams’ Witch
Bound In Blood
Cursed In Love
Phoenix Series
Flight of the Phoenix
Chapter One
Another amazing day at the library…
I eyed the open door with a smile. Light spilled out onto the carpet from the new fluorescents inside, making it seem homier than I originally imagined.
I may not have been able to fund raise the last five-hundred dollars needed for the library elevator yet, but I did do some careful weeding and was able to free up space in a backroom for an employee only area. We were using it as a breakroom. My first breakroom. I’d purchased one of those dorm room sized refrigerators, and Mrs. Ward had brought in an old microwave. Sure, I may not win the American Library Association’s Librarian of the Year Award, but my employees sure thought I was doing a pretty good job.
As I got closer, my ears strained toward a different sound. It wasn’t the excited chatter I usually heard coming from the new room. No, this was something else entirely.
I quickened the pace and walked in to find both Mrs. Ward and Mel sitting at the small table, their eyes glued to the corner. A stack of books had been lowered to the floor and there was now a small TV in its place. Books. On the floor. My heart skipped a beat. They were so engrossed in what they were watching that they didn’t even look up when I came in.
Finally, I put my hands on my hips. “Um, what is this?”
Mrs. Ward shouted in surprise, her hand coming to rest over her heart. “Maddie. My goodness. You shouldn’t be scaring people like that.”
Scaring people? I’d stood here for a whole five seconds now.
I walked in a little further, eyeing the TV. I wanted to be the nice boss, but wasn’t the TV taking it a little too far? What if people started coming in here to watch TV when they should’ve been working at things like picking books off the floor? What if they lost track of time? How was I going to make sure this stuff didn’t happen?
I plopped my lunch down on the table, this time startling Mel. She’d been closing her shop and having lunch with me for the past month or so. “Jeez, Mads. What are you trying to do, give people heart attacks?”
My stomach twisted. This was how it was going to be. I was going to lose control because of this TV. I just knew it. And Mel wasn’t even one of my employees.
My head started to throb, and my fingers itched to make a pro/con list. “Where did the TV come from, anyway?” I grumbled.
Both of them ignored me. So much for having a nice, relaxing lunch with friends. I might as well have been talking to the wall.
I cleared my throat, trying again. “Who brought the TV in?”
Mrs. Ward side-eyed me. I could tell she was distracted. “Teddy did.”
My eyes widened. Teddy was just a volunteer page. That was very…generous. “Really?”
She nodded. “Yes. He said he’d upgraded recently and just had this downstairs in the basement collecting dust. You don’t mind, do you? I told him this morning it would be fine, so he went home after his volunteer shift and brought it back right away. Such a nice boy,” she said, cocking her head and smiling as if she were daydreaming.
The back of my neck itched. Yes, he was a nice boy, and it was a sweet gesture, I just still wasn’t sure what I thought about it though. Since those two didn’t seem like they wanted to talk anyway, I paid attention to the turkey sandwich I’d brought for lunch. Every once in a while, I peeked at my sister. She mindlessly ate, moving her hand back and forth to her mouth as she stared at the TV. Was I more boring than whatever ridiculous television show they watched? That couldn’t be true, could it? I always thought I was a good conversationalist. An impeccable one, especially when I was around people I knew.
Voices from the TV filtered through and I resisted the urge to look at the screen. I didn’t have an agenda against television, I just wasn’t sure I wanted it in the work place. I enjoyed watching my nightly shows on TV, but during the day, that was a different story.
I finally looked up and then wished I hadn’t. I groaned aloud. “Why are we watching this?”
“It’s the news,” Mrs. Ward said. “What could be more innocent than the news?”
As if Mel didn’t hear Mrs. Ward, she asked, “Can you believe what he wants to do? It’s disgusting. It’s polarizing. He’s going to split the good people of Salem right down the middle. Every time I watch this, I get unnerved.”
Mrs. Ward perked up a little. “It is our history.”
My head fell back. These two just couldn’t get along for the life of them. It wasn’t just about Mel stealing Mrs. Ward’s ‘Win A Date’ idea either. They were constantly snarking at one another. I liked it better when they were both engrossed in the news. “It’s more our history than it is for others.”
Mrs. Ward blanched. I gave my sister a scathing look. “Mel…”
She lifted her dainty shoulders in response and went back to watching the overview of what business mogul Troy Levine’s next scheme was to bring visitors to the Salem area. His big idea? Launching a series of reenactments.
Gathering her wits again, Mrs. Ward said, “We already have a living history reenactment down the road. What’s the difference with this?”
I cringed. Mrs. Ward was walking a tightrope. Mel was all about sharing our witchy ancestry, and though Mrs. Ward liked a good discussion, aka argument, she didn’t like always being reminded that Mel and I were a little different. Okay, a lot different. We were straight up witches with an ancestry that went all the way back to the Salem Witch Trials. The temperature in the room kicked up a couple notched as they both eyed one another. Who knew life in a library could be this risky? Jackson had told me than once that the worst thing I could be subjected to in a library was a papercut, but he’d obviously never worked with his mother before.
“What’s the difference?” Mel asked incredulously, her face turning a coral red. “The difference? I suppose you wouldn’t care because it wasn’t your ancestors burning at the stake.” Mrs. Ward opened her mou
th to retort, but Mel wasn’t having any of it. The can of worms had been opened, and who knew when the top would get put back on. “Not only does Troy want to rehash things that are uncomfortable for those of us who are still alive today, he wants to actually reenact all of it. All. Of. It. The burning, too. Did you know our Great great great great great great great great Grandmother Winifred was burned to death on Gallows Hill?”
That seemed like a tad too many ‘greats’, but I hadn’t really counted to make sure.
“To see that would be devastating. Our line was almost lost. I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand.”
“Someone like me?” Mrs. Ward asked. She shifted her gaze to me. Her shoulders were stiff, but she also thought too highly of me to get in a true argument with Mel. I’d seen Mrs. Ward deal with vendors. I knew what she was capable of. To be honest, Mel and Mrs. Ward were cut from the same cloth, so it was no wonder why they didn’t get along all that well. Opposites attract, so alike people repelled each other like bug zappers. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“People with no magical talent whatsoever.”
Zap.
Mrs. Ward gave a slight gasp. “I have talent. I may not have weird powers and sit around doing spells with my friends…”
Zap.
I even cringed at that one. Mrs. Ward brought up Mel’s short-lived coven, most of them had been murdered a few months ago due to some lunatic.
Mel stood. “People like you shouldn’t have an opinion in this matter. I wouldn’t expect to have my opinion heard in Librarian Assistant Weekly.”
Zap.
I stood up now, too. “Both of you, please stop.” I reached for the remote and turned the power to the television off. I knew this darn thing was a bad idea. “We can talk about this rationally.”
Mel grumbled something underneath her breath. Yeah, on second thought, maybe we couldn’t. Polar. Opposites. They were like water and vinegar, beer and wine. Mrs. Ward had always tried to hide her feelings about my sister, but the “Win a Date with Salem’s Finest” fiasco was the straw that broke the camel’s back. For Mrs. Ward, it was truly unforgivable that Mel stole the idea and passed it off to the Salem Business Administration as her own. It wasn’t about intellectual property, per se. It was about Mrs. Ward not getting her center of attention shining moment.
I was glad I’d turned the TV off, anyway. For one, had mixed feelings about the Troy Levine reenactment issue. I was all for having the information out there, but part of me stood with Mel. The burnings were gruesome. He’d already been asked to leave that part out of his reenactment event, but he’d dug his heels in. He’d wanted that particular reenactment the most. I understood that from a business standpoint that was the money maker for him. That was the point where the horror and the paranormal collided. He’d be able to sell more ghost tour tickets if the audience had just been regaled with the witch’s deaths. But for some of us, the Witch Trials were never that far off.
Residents of Salem knew there were a fair number of witches still left in the area and were largely okay with it. The trials, however, needed avoiding. Witches didn’t want to give people any reason to think that they were needed anymore. It was why I never threw my magic into others’ faces. I was fine riding underneath the radar. Mel wasn’t. She wanted to ride high above the radar with a sparkling spotlight, broom in hand and hair blowing in the wind. Then again, like Troy Levine, that was how Mel made her money. She owned a shop near the wharf where she sold the idea of magic to her customers. Stones, herbs, incense, knickknacks, “magic”. She felt strongly for this Troy Levine problem because even as he tried to convince the Salem Business Association that local business owners would see an increase in profits, it wouldn’t make up for dragging all that sorrow throughout history and forcing it front and center. I wouldn’t blink an eye to see her marching in front of city hall with a sign that said Just Say No to Levine’s Scheme. And, she’d probably want to drag me along with her.
Just in case, I should write the sign idea I just had down. Thank the goddess for the notes app on my phone.
All of us chewed away at our various meals. The tension in the room had hit a fever pitch and I couldn’t wait to go back to the desk just to get away from it. Though, I’d probably have to listen to Mrs. Ward and why she thought my sister’s opinions were wrong for the rest of the day. At least I wouldn’t have to listen to the other side of the coin until Mel and I saw each other again. Even though we lived in the same apartment building, the store had been keeping her very busy lately, which was why she had the great idea to hire someone to stay there for just the lunch hour, so she could come have lunch with me.
My cell phone rang, pulling me out of my own head. Mrs. Ward’s eyes rounded, and a pleased smile softened her features.
Even though she’d tell you she didn’t like cell phones and any new technology, she’d somehow gotten into my phone and changed Jackson’s ringtone, so she knew whenever he was calling me. Who knew someone who worked at a library could be so devious? Actually, she was just a dedicated matchmaker, and a poor one at that. There was nothing going on between her son and me.
My stomach flipped as I answered the phone. “Salem Public Library. How can I help you today?”
There was a short pause, and then Jackson’s deep, amused voice sounded. “Um, Mads? I called you on your cell phone.”
I let out a breath, my face heating. Mel and Mrs. Ward looked at me as if I was a crazy person. “Oh, right. Sorry.” I chuckled to myself while also simultaneously hitting myself over the head with a big book. Something like a dictionary would do. “What can I do for you, Detective Ward?”
He snickered again. “When I call you on your cell phone, you can just call me Jackson.”
“Is there going to be a point to this conversation coming anytime soon?” I asked, my “It’s too loud in the library” voice on. Both Mel and Mrs. Ward were giving me weird looks, and it made my blood pressure jump up. I dropped my sandwich and stood from the table. Moving into the hallway, I tried again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, but your mom and Mel were looking at me.”
He grumbled. “I know the look. You’re forgiven.”
I ran my hands through my hair. Yes, not every librarian wears their hair in a tightknit bun. In fact, I didn’t even own glasses. Gasp.
He took a deep breath, which caught my attention right away. Jackson had been so busy at work recently that he hadn’t been around much. I’d usually see him when he’d visit his mother at the library, or he often stopped by to check on Maxie, my dog. Not lately, though.
“What is it?” I asked, suddenly wary.
I checked the hall around me for a ghost sighting. There’d been zilch since my old biology teacher came to visit me about her murdered husband and I’d like to keep it that way. Being tormented by someone in their afterlife was not my idea of a good time. Finding nothing surrounding me, I relaxed minutely.
“There’s been another murder,” Jackson blurted out.
I closed my eyes, taking the information in. “You’re kidding?”
Jackson paused. “Yes, because I kid about murders all the time.”
“Okay, okay. No need to be snarky, I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
He pitched his voice low. “Have you uh…had any visitors lately?”
I looked around me again, just to be sure. “No. I would’ve told you if I did.”
That was mostly true. I actually wasn’t sure if I would or not. It depended on who the ghost was and what they wanted. Jackson was a little more forgiving than his mother was, but the idea of having powers still mystified and unnerved him.
When he didn’t say anything, a twinge started in my stomach. Was he trying to tell me something? “Is it someone I know? Or someone related to someone I know?”
Jackson sighed. “I don’t think so.” He probably bit his lip as he spoke. It was a trait of his when he was thinking.
“Well, that’s probably why I haven’t seen anything
,” I hedged. “I think I have to be connected to them somehow.”
“Well, you kind of are, in a roundabout way…”
My stomach dipped. “Who’s the victim, Jackson?”
The line muffled, and it sounded like he was chastising himself. “Can you just get to Gallows Hill as soon as possible? I’m going to need your help on this one, Mads.”
The hall in front of me fractured. I saw it, but I wasn’t really seeing it. Gallows Hill? He needed me to go to Gallows Hill? What in the world?
Chapter Two
Getting out of the library by myself after hanging up with Jackson was virtually impossible, especially when Mel and Mrs. Ward noticed the look on my face. While Mrs. Ward’s reaction had been motherly, “Oh honey, what’s wrong?”, Mel’s had been forceful. She’d thrown her lunch back into her paisley bag and stood. “Let’s do this.”
Honestly, I wouldn’t trade them for the world.
We piled into my car after getting the Children’s Librarian to cover the main desk upstairs. I didn’t like leaving the library short-staffed like that, but when Jackson said he wanted me to come to Gallows Hill, I knew there must’ve been a good reason for it. He hated asking me for help in his cases even though I was pretty good at it. Whether it was a murder or a fascinating reference question, I always put my all into it. Truth was truth, and I was bound to get to the bottom of it one way or the other.
“Where are we going?” Mel asked.
“Gallows Hill.”
She gasped, the interior of the car filling in surprise, a heavy net draping over our shoulders.
“Whatever for?” Mrs. Ward muttered from the backseat. Mel had beaten her to the car, and it didn’t matter that Mrs. Ward’s arthritis didn’t like the backseat, Mel was determined to always take it away from her.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly. It’s just what Jackson said. He didn’t give me more information.”