by Dana Davis
Desert Magick:
Superstitions
Book 1
by
Dana Davis
Next Generation Indie Awards Finalist
Copyright 2010 by Dana Davis
All Rights Reserved
Published by SynergEbooks
http://www.synergebooks.com
Look for Book Two:
Desert Magick: Dream Catcher
Also by Dana Davis:
Breach of Worlds
Mask of Tamirella
Quest For Freedom
Teadai Prophecies Trilogy:
Deadly Fate: Book One of the Teadai Prophecies
Sage Truth: Book Two of the Teadai Prophecies
City of Gods: Book Three of the Teadai Prophecies
Phoenix Lights: Book Four of the Teadai Prophecies
For Darryl, my love, my life, my inspiration.
Acknowledgments
For my twisted sense of reality,
I blame the nursery rhymes and fairytales
my mother read to me as a child.
Thanks, Mom.
Chapter 1
Palo Verde in Shadows
Daisy gazed out at the desert wash behind her Scottsdale, Arizona home and uttered an inferno spell to reheat her tea. The air immediately surrounding her grew static, as it always did with spell casting, but dissipated as the spell found its object of intent. The result was instantaneous. After a few sips, she set her cup on the flagstone and leaned back to let the spa jets massage her muscles. The warm water soothed her and she began to drift toward sleep.
A hand caressed her stomach. It moved to her breast. She mewed at the pleasure, hovering between sleep and wakefulness. The hand gave a hard squeeze. In an instant, Daisy shot up out of the water, coughing and spitting.
What the hell?
What was with the weird dreams lately? Her third this week. They began in an erotic fashion but always ended in pain.
Maybe I’m a closet masochist.
To get her mind off those uneasy thoughts, she dove into the adjoining pool. The frigid water shocked her muscles and she came up gasping.
“Shit,” she uttered. But it worked and all she thought about now was the cold.
With another inferno spell, she heated the pool to a tolerable temperature and started a few laps. Some spells came as easily to Daisy as breathing and she used them to assist her in daily life. This world was hard enough on those without paranormal abilities not to use them. And being an inherent witch gave her certain advantages.
Daisy began to tread water in the deep end. Her eyes drifted to the wash on the other side of her wrought iron view fence then moved upward. The desert sky burst with orange and pink hues, like soda spewing from a bottle, as the sun dove toward the horizon. A fuchsia-colored glow reflected off the nearby McDowell Mountains where she’d spread her mother’s ashes. Though it had been five years, she missed the woman terribly. Probably always would.
Saguaro cacti looked like many-armed sentries standing guard in the wash, and she imagined them watching over her mother’s spirit. Quail cried their mournful ga-gaa-ga-ga songs, interspersed with an occasional pip-pip-pip. In the dim light, Daisy could just make out the teardrop-shaped plumes bobbing on their heads as they marched in a line. She smiled and continued to tread water.
A silent owl flew overhead, landed on the view fence and gazed down at her, eyes as round as marbles. She usually thought owls were beautiful, but this one left her with a less than fluffy feeling. In fact, she felt there was some wicked intelligence behind those large eyes, and it looked directly at her, or perhaps into her. Daisy shivered despite the warm water. As she backstroked to the shallow end, the owl’s eyes followed her.
“Go away,” she uttered, sounding more like a frightened child than a thirty-five-year-old inherent witch.
Much to her relief, something caught the owl’s attention and it flew off. Seconds later, the shrill screech of a desert hare meeting its death reverberated through the wash and she winced. Then it went silent. She pushed away disturbing thoughts about nature’s cruelty and took in a deep breath to calm her nerves. The distinct scent of creosote, with its minute, waxy leaves, wafted to her, reminding her of the monsoon season. The desert had been Daisy’s home since birth and she let the familiar sights and sounds put her at ease as she finished her laps.
When she’d had enough exercise, she swam to the beach entry and rested. Movement caught her corner vision and she turned to the wash. A dark figure stood just the other side of the wrought iron slats, under the nearest palo verde tree, an unruly thing with as many thorns as leaves. Daisy couldn’t make out the distinct green bark in the waning light but that didn’t matter. She saw the man.
Her heart tap-danced against her ribs. “Hello?” she said, hoping he was just a neighbor who’d wandered off the marked trail. “Can I help you?”
The figure said nothing so she readied a trussing spell. When the figure didn’t move, Daisy scrambled out of the pool and shrugged her robe on over her shivering body. After she shoved damp feet into flip-flops and wrapped her wet hair in a towel, she took another glance around the wash. No one. The sky had already gone purple and her paranormal blood didn’t give her night vision.
A passenger jet hummed overhead, lights blinking in a consistent fashion, on its way to Phoenix’s Sky Harbor Airport. Two other planes crisscrossed the sky on their way to and from Scottsdale Airport, bringing a burst of engine and propeller noise down on Daisy. Normally, she would execute a muzzle spell to keep them from disrupting her quiet, but she didn’t bother tonight. She watched the passenger jet streak across the night sky, a couple of stars peeping out in the backdrop.
Thank goodness Noah would be home soon from his business trip. Not that she couldn’t defend herself if she had to, but she felt better when her husband was home where he belonged.
She studied the wash again. Perhaps a nearby saguaro had been the culprit, its shadowy visage fueling her imagination, though she was fairly certain she’d seen a man. Maybe he was another paranormal, but she had no idea what kind of powers he possessed. There were many types of paranormals, of which inherent witches were one. Most paranormals had no distinguishing marks and there were a number of them living in and around Scottsdale.
He didn’t seem eager to show himself again, and she didn’t intend to stay out here to find out whether he could overpower her. Safe as her North Scottsdale community was, no one was completely protected anyplace, especially a woman alone, inherent witch or not. If attacked, Daisy would fair better than a mortal woman, but she had no desire to test her magick out on that theory. No damn desire at all.
Other than a few squeals from neighborhood kids enjoying the cold night in their backyard, she didn’t see or hear another human. Tea in hand, her feet crunched across the granite yard to the patio. She entered the house via the sliding door, surprised she didn’t get shocked this time, a typical occurrence in such a dry climate.
Maybe my wet suit dampened the static. She chuckled at her silent pun. And maybe that was why so many inherent witches lived in the desert. Who would pay attention to static charge from spells in such a dry climate? Mortals never seemed to notice the difference.
The house popped several times due to the cooling night and she smirked. She remembered a question from a desert newbie to a local newspaper columnist asking why no one in Phoenix had metal roofs. She couldn’t imagine how loud a metal roof would be with the extreme temperature changes that could happen in a single day, or the hailstorms that often accompanied the monsoon rains. Probably like living in a popcorn popper.
She locked the slider. Noah had disabled the alarm required for all pool owners. His comment was, “W
e don’t have kids in this house, so why the hell should we have that annoying alarm. It’s not like Perky can open the damn door.” He was right, of course, especially since they kept the backyard gate padlocked, and Daisy smiled at that memory. She was grateful not to have the blaring thing go off every time she forgot about it and opened the door without using the correct latch.
With a pull on the cord, she closed the blinds that hovered between the double-paned glass, grateful for the bright lights and sounds of the television, which she’d left on for the dog. The evening news reached her ears, delivered by a pretty blonde wearing too much makeup. Another grisly murder in South Phoenix, home to several local gangs.
Daisy frowned. Was there a lot more violence lately? Or did she pay more attention to the bad news these days?
Her mud-colored terrier mutt pranced in front of her, tail flipping side to side. He was a birthday gift from Noah five years ago, her first in this house. She exchanged flip-flops for slippers, stroked the dog, and put her cup on the coffee table. When the news began the usual litany of terrorist attacks, she snatched up the remote and switched the channel to a benign home-improvement show.
“Much better.”
She gave a quick glance at the clock. Six-fifteen. The dog yipped and trounced around at her feet until she scooped him up from the Saltillo tiles and scratched behind his ears.
“You’re such a good dog, Perky-poo,” she crooned. He answered with a lick of his rough tongue against her chin.
After a quick shower, in which Perky sat just outside the glass door, Daisy made a bag of microwave popcorn for herself and gave the dog a snack bone. She carefully opened the steaming bag and turned to the island where she’d placed a large bowl.
A man stood just the other side.
A startled squeak left her throat and she jumped, scattering popcorn onto the island counter. She let out her breath. “Damnit, Noah.” A nervous laugh. “You scared the crap out of me. I didn’t even hear the garage door.” She snatched up the few kernels that fell onto the floor before Perky could get to them. “When did you get home?” she said as she dropped the kernels into the trash. “I thought your flight didn’t land until seven.” The microwave clock read six-thirty-five. He must have landed early. But why didn’t he call to let her know? He always called.
Noah didn’t answer. Instead, he gave her a wicked smile, gray eyes bright, and led her through the living room, down the hallway and into the master suite. After removing his shoes and pants, he pointed to her t-shirt. Daisy obliged and slid it off over her head. Noah’s odd silence fueled her desire, and he continued pointing to her various garments until they lay in a heap on the Navajo rug.
Still not saying a word, Noah pressed Daisy down onto the bed and ran his tongue over her chilled skin. He was still wearing his dress shirt, which added to his sexiness as he leaned over her, hungry eyes gazing into hers. His fingers, which usually found her most erotic places, seemed to fumble as though searching. What was he doing? He knew her body almost as well as she did. Whatever it was, she wasn’t certain she liked it. She started to push him away, but he uttered something. She couldn’t make out what he said but she relaxed as if someone had plunged her into warm water and turned on the spa jets.
The calm feeling didn’t last. Suddenly, Noah trapped her wrists above her head, causing pain, something he’d never done. Terror flooded her and she started to pull away. A whisper touched her ear and the panic dissipated almost as soon as she thought about it. She felt the pleasurable spa jets once again and relaxed.
Someone caressed her hair and she opened her eyes. When she saw Noah’s face, she grinned and stretched.
“You shouldn’t go to bed with damp hair, honey,” he said as he deposited Perky on the floor. “The TV’s still on in the other room. And you left popcorn all over the island. You feeling okay?” He placed a hand on her forehead.
“I feel great. Wait,” she sat up and the sheet fell off to expose her naked breasts. “Why’re you in your work clothes?” She brushed her damp hair back with one hand. Wet bed-head. Oh, that’s gonna look great.
“Because,” he said, as he grabbed the handle to his rolling suitcase and disappeared into the closet. “I didn’t have a chance to change before my flight. And I came straight home from the airport. Damn airlines don’t feed us anymore. I’m starved. You make dinner?”
“Yeah. I put a plate in the fridge for you.” Something tugged at the back of her brain and uneasiness crept over her. Had she forgotten something? In an instant, the thought disappeared and she focused on her husband again.
Noah returned from the closet wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants and crossed to her. A lingering kiss found her mouth. One hand drifted to her bare breast. He drew close to her ear and said, “Maybe I’ll skip dinner and take you right here, right now, since you’re already naked.”
“Again?” She giggled.
“What do you mean again?”
“I mean after you already seduced me. Stop fooling around.”
“Trying to seduce me, are you, wench? Well, you’re doing a good job.” He teased her left nipple until she squeaked. “I like when you sleep in the nude.”
“Noah,” she protested weakly. “You never do it twice in one day. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”
He pulled away and gazed down on her with concern. “You’re serious. What’re you talking about?”
“We made love.” She glanced at the bedside clock. “About an hour and a half ago.” Had he forgotten? Maybe he was ill.
“We certainly did not.” He gave her a smirk. “I think I’d remember having sex with my gorgeous wife. I just walked in and found you asleep. That must’ve been some dream you had.”
“Yeah,” she uttered. A chill jetted up her spine. “Guess it was.” Something nagged at the back of her consciousness, something about this odd dream, but she couldn’t quite get at it.
“You should get more sleep at night, babe. Come on.” He held out a hand and pulled her close when she stood. “Get to that kitchen, wench, and fetch my dinner.” He chuckled and sent her off with a friendly slap to her bare butt.
She gave a nervous laugh, trying not to dwell on her dreams, and bent down to retrieve her clothes.
“Aww,” Noah said. Those gray eyes held mischief. “I don’t get served by a naked woman?”
“Not ‘til summer.” Daisy offered a smirk. “Too damn chilly.”
“Yeah, it is.” His hungry gaze rested on her erect nipples as she struggled into her clothes and she laughed.
She caught a glimpse of herself in her dresser mirror, stepped to it, and frowned at her slightly bloodshot eyes. Her hair was ruffled just as she’d suspected. She ran her hairbrush through her damp locks with little result. Never does a damn thing I want it to. Maybe I shouldn’t have cut it. She’d grown her hair long during the winter months but it only reached her shoulders now. At least the natural medium brown color still had highlights, and she only had three grays to pluck consistently. So far. Some women her age had far more. She gave up trying to tame it and placed the brush back on the dresser.
Noah sidled up behind and wrapped arms around her waist. They locked eyes in the mirror. “You’re a beautiful woman, Daisy.”
He planted a soft kiss on her neck and she mewed. “You know just what to say.” He had six inches on her five-foot-four frame and she liked that. Though Noah wasn’t a paranormal and had no powers, Daisy felt safe in his embrace.
“And a healthy woman.” He pinched her rear, causing her to squeal, and she slapped his hand away. “Just the way I like ‘em.”
She liked that he didn’t go for anorexic types because she certainly wasn’t one. Her mother had claimed the hourglass figure came from her side of the family. Noah’s stomach rumbled and she laughed. “Let’s get you fed, big boy.”
She turned him by the shoulders, pushed him out the door, and followed him down the short hall, through the family room and into the adjoining kitchen. Perk
y’s nails clicked on the tile as he trotted behind. While Noah heated his dinner plate in the microwave, Daisy picked up the scattered popcorn from the island.
Okay. I made popcorn.
But why did she go to bed without eating it? Memories of dream-Noah’s seduction filtered back into her brain. There was something else, something about the dream she thought she should remember. Something odd. She shook off the unsettled feeling and put a handful of popcorn into her mouth, savoring the salty butter flavor.
Did I really dream the sex? It seemed so real. Something about dream-Noah gave her goose pimples but she couldn’t break through the haze now and much of the dream drifted away from her consciousness, forgotten. She gazed down at Perky, who stood at her feet with an expectant look in his eyes, and said, “What do you think?”
“Hmm?” Noah said just as the microwave timer beeped and Perky yipped.
“What do you want to drink?”
He passed her with his plate of steaming lasagna in one hand and fork in the other. “Water’s good.”
“Okay.”
She made her way to one of the cabinets to retrieve a glass and then to the refrigerator. Movement caught her corner vision and she glanced at the laundry room. She strode across the kitchen floor and peered in to see the washer and dryer, storage cabinets hanging above. Nothing unusual. The sliding pantry doors were open just as she’d left them. Other than a few bare spots a trip to the grocery store would solve, nothing unusual there either. She silently chided herself for being so jumpy. But she clearly remembered the shadow man in the wash. He wasn’t a dream.
“Hey, babe?” Noah called from the dining area just the other side of the bar.
The open floor plan had sold them on this home five years ago, six months after Daisy’s mother, Penny, died. The vaulted ceilings made their modest home feel spacious, an illusion they both enjoyed.