by Dana Davis
“I wish my mom had.”
“Bridgette Kelly! What a thing to say.”
“Two weeks of having my powers trussed nearly drove me nuts. I couldn’t even hear Andrew Patterson’s thoughts about me.”
Daisy chuckled. “You’re so bad.”
“Do I even want to know about this?” Noah said.
Bridgette gave a dismissive wave, took a drink of her iced tea, then said, “Andrew was always thinking about getting into my pants. He had quite an imagination too.”
“When you were twelve?”
“He was fourteen. Got held back in school. Besides, I was taller than all the other girls my age, nearly his height, and that fascinated him.”
“She had boobs too,” Daisy added with a smirk.
Noah chuckled and shook his head. “What about this séance stuff? Just how dangerous is it?”
The look he gave Daisy told her she might have a fight on her hands once he found out, but she honestly couldn’t think of a better plan. And she wanted to find out about the other apparition too, her ghostly molester. Her heart picked up its pace at the thought of him.
No séance tonight, thankfully. It would take several hours to properly prepare for one. Tonight they would simply sleep. Or, in Daisy’s case, try to sleep. The more she thought about her attacker, the more she realized a séance might be the least of her worries. She wanted this guy gone. Wanted her life back. As a paranormal, she’d been taught to handle things that would send most mortals scrambling for cover. Since childhood, she’d never been afraid of much.
What had happened to her wonderful, well-adjusted life? A séance? They were actually going to perform a séance?
May the universe protect us.
Chapter 9
Séances and Spooks
The next day after lunch, Daisy and Bridgette cleansed the house with sage smoke and several spells to help keep things on their terms, not the spirit world’s. That had taken almost three hours and was no guarantee against a truly nasty entity. They had also prepared boosting spells, which added strength to the originals, another half hour gone. Then they spent an additional hour trussing the property to keep spirits from wandering to the neighbors. Most mortals couldn’t see ghosts but there was always an exception now and then. Rare, but it happened.
Daisy imagined a shrill scream coming from Opal two houses down. She had no idea if the elderly woman could see spirits or not, but with two witches calling them, the veil between this world and the next would be thin tonight in this North Scottsdale neighborhood. There were several retired couples on the street and she certainly didn’t want to be the cause of any heart attacks.
Most likely Noah would see the ghost this time, since he was here with her. That’s why mortals would seek out mediums when they wanted to contact the dead. Since they had no paranormal blood, they couldn’t do it on their own. Even paranormals had to use mediums, with exception of inherent witches like Daisy and Bridgette.
“Okay, everything’s ready. We can start,” Bridgette said.
They sat around the dining table with a fat lighted candle and three flashlights in the middle, just in case the lights went out, along with several bottles of water. Spirit chanting made one thirsty as hell.
Perky had already devoured his dinner and was safe in his kennel. They’d put him in the master bedroom with the door shut and a ward, which was actually a glorified alarm spell, around the entire room, just in case something tried to enter the house that way. The ward spell had taken only seconds but they doubled its strength by having Daisy and Bridgette cast together. Nothing would get to Perky without setting off an ear-piercing squeal. They set wards on the other rooms, as well.
Daisy wanted Noah to stay with Perky, out of harm’s way, but he refused. In fact, he seemed more fearful than Daisy about a séance, until Bridgette assured him that two grown witches could take on any unruly ghosts that might crash their little party. So, naturally, he insisted on being with them. Daisy didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. Two grown witches could handle a lot, but not everything. No one could control everything that came through from the afterlife, not even a medium.
The sun had set and they grew hungry for dinner, since the only thing they’d ingested after lunch was water. But a séance had to be done on an empty stomach. It was a full moon tonight, good luck for witches. That was the legend anyway. Daisy hoped it was true.
The gas fireplace was on, not for ambiance as Noah had inquired about, but to add extra heat, since a séance could, and often did, chill a room more than a few degrees. Ghosts sucked the warmth from a room like a vacuum sucked up dust. Bridgette and Daisy sat watching the candle flame flicker as a warm breeze from the heater vents along the top of the vaulted wall drifted down to them.
“Do we hold hands?” Noah said. “Chant or something? Turn the lights out?” He glanced at the chandelier that burned brightly above the table.
“You watch way too many movies, Noah,” Bridgette said with a slight smirk. “We’ve done all the prep. Now we just need the right spells.”
Daisy sniffed. “Here we go, kiddies. Keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times.” She took a long drink of water. “Let’s get this damn thing over with.”
“Patience, Cousin.”
She and Bridgette sucked in deep breaths and began reciting together. Daisy squeezed her hands together, trying to relieve her tension. It didn’t work.
The first spell was in Irish Gaelic, had to be. Any translated version didn’t keep the same nuance and would screw things up. The air grew static around the table and made the hairs on her arms stand on end. The next five spells were in various degrees of English, from old to middle. Daisy caught Noah’s smile as she and Bridgette spouted what sounded like bad Shakespeare. Just seeing his look helped her relax. Maybe he was doing it for her benefit but she didn’t care. It worked.
Once they finished the sixth spell, Daisy’s throat was parched and they took a short break to wet their throats. Spells seven and eight had to be chanted in Gaelic with English translations for balance and a doubling of power. After they finished the ninth and final recitation, the room grew chilly. Daisy’s strength began to wane a bit, like she had worked a very long day and needed a nap. The lights flickered.
Noah flinched and she placed her hand on top of his, hoping he didn’t feel her own trembling. “Anything?” she said to Bridgette, who looked as cool as Daisy remembered from their years growing up.
The woman closed her eyes. “Mmm. Someone’s trying to get through. Yes, definitely a presence. Familiar too. Oh, shit.”
Daisy’s heart did a sudden sprint and the blood rushed from her face. Her lips tingled. “What? Did we do it wrong? Bridgette?”
The red-haired woman began to chuckle and opened her eyes. “We did it right. But I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”
“What?” Daisy wanted to jump out of her seat. “Damnit, Bridge. What’s—”
“Wait for it.”
Daisy squeezed Noah’s hand. If they had a real problem, she and Bridgette would need to close the connection by reciting a particular spell together.
She watched with apprehension as a figure materialized in front of the coffee table.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the apparition said. She planted hands at the waist of her gray slacks.
“Gran?” Daisy focused accusatory eyes on Bridgette and leaned across the table, careful not to get too close to the candle flame. “We brought my grandmother back? Well, that’s just great. She won’t like this.” Like Daisy’s mom, Gran was always against séances. She studied Noah, who sat with his back to the kitchen, watching with wide-eyed interest.
“That’s your grandmother all right,” he said. “I recognize her from the pictures in our albums.”
“Damn right I’m her grandmother.” The woman’s ghost stepped close and peered back and forth between Daisy and Bridgette. “Just what’re you two playing at? Didn’t you learn your les
sons about séances?”
“Yes, Gran. But—”
She raised a hand that appeared quite solid, and Daisy wondered if she would haul off and smack them both. “No excuses, young lady. You two are in a heap of trouble, if I have anything to say about it. And who’s this young man? Don’t tell me.” She got a distant look in her eyes. “Your husband.”
Daisy nodded. “This is Noah.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“Not what I’d choose for you but at least he has manners.”
“Gran!”
Suddenly, the old woman turned toward the patio door. “I see I’m not the only one you called up.”
“We didn’t call you, Aunt Maureen,” Bridgette said. “We wanted him.” She nodded toward the patio.
The man in the 1960s suit and hat sauntered through the patio slider and stopped beside Daisy’s grandmother. Now that she could get a good look at him, there was something familiar about him. He stood a couple of inches shorter than Gran. Sad eyes peered from beneath that hat and he had the beginnings of jowls set in a blotchy face.
If he were a dog, he’d be a basset hound, Daisy mused.
“What in the world you want him for?” Gran said. “Go away, you old spook. Why don’t you go and get reincarnated or something?”
“You know him?”
“Of course I know him, Daisy. He’s your grandfather’s brother Ian. No good moocher. Drank himself to death.”
“Gran. That’s not nice.” She suddenly felt foolish chastising her dead grandmother but had to admit it was nice seeing the woman. Even if Gran had been quite rigid when she was alive and forbid her to do unsupervised magick during visits.
“What’s that?”
“I said—”
“Not you, dear. Him. Always did mumble.” Gran leaned toward Ian’s ghost. “You’re not as charming as you think, you silly old spook. Now speak up or I’ll box your ears.”
The ghost’s lips moved and Daisy found herself leaning closer. She couldn’t hear a thing. She glanced at Noah and Bridgette but both shrugged. Noah seemed to be taking this very well. Maybe he was just in shock.
“Daisy, dear?” Gran said. “Your Great-Uncle Ian here is telling me some interesting things. Have you been having ghost sex?”
“Gran!” Despite being a twenty-first century witch and in no way a prude about sex, her face heated.
“Yes, she has,” Bridgette said.
“Not by choice,” Daisy reminded.
“Is that why Ian’s here, Aunt Maureen? To warn her about this attacker?”
“Partly. He says there’s a family secret about to come out. Something big.”
“What secret?”
“Got me. I wasn’t the seer in the family. Ian doesn’t know any details, either. His witch sight was always pretty vague.” Ian gave her a dirty look but she ignored him and his mouth moved. “He says you and Bridgette should probably team up. Hmm. If he’s right, maybe you should get some other family members involved. What? Oh, he says watch yourselves.”
“And?” Daisy said slowly.
“That’s all he knows, dear.”
“What about this ghost molester that’s been attacking my wife?”
“He wants something from her, Noah dear. He’s not a very nice spirit.”
“So he is a ghost?” Daisy said.
Gran grew a thoughtful look again, as though communicating with the other side. Which was probably exactly what she was doing. Her eyes grew distant. “Mmm, more like an old specter. Really old. But he’s never crossed over. I’m not getting anything that clear on him. What’s that? I’m telling her, Ian. What the hell do you think I’m doing? Watch out for this one, Daisy. He’s dangerous. Keep your guard up.” She glanced down at her hands, which had gone transparent. “We can’t stay much longer. Bridgette, you better let your mother know about this.”
Bridgette cursed under her breath.
“I heard that, young lady. Watch your mouth.”
“Yes, Aunt Maureen.”
Daisy wasn’t ready to let this rest. “What can we do about this spirit, Gran?”
“What’s that, dear? I’m afraid I can’t hear you. I love you, Daisy, Bridgette. Blessed be.” She faded and Ian followed with a slight flicker of the lights.
“Gran!”
“She’s gone,” Bridgette said as the candle sputtered out. “And you know the rules.” She began to recite an all too familiar childhood chant that helped inherents learn about the other side. “’Deplete a ghost of ectoplasm, no contact till one month passes.’”
Daisy grimaced. It sounded even worse to her adult ears. Whoever came up with that one must have had a few too many.
Bridgette seemed not to notice and said, “A month is just fine with me. Your Gran always was too much like my mother. Bossy as hell, the both of them.”
Daisy laughed but it came out sounding like a frog. She took a long swig of water to wet her throat to try and relieve some of the scratchiness. Now that it was over, she needed sleep. Bridgette looked just as tired.
“So, what’re we supposed to do?” Noah said. “How do we stop this—specter? Will that alarm spell work? And what’s the difference between a ghost and a specter?”
Daisy studied him. “The spell has to be recharged after three hours or so. We can try it. And a specter is a very old spirit. They differ from ghosts in that they once had great power, old power. That allows them to keep a connection to this world. If he’s as old as Gran suspects, we’ll need some really strong magicks.”
“There must be something in those books of yours.”
Bridgette took in an audible breath and said, “Maybe you should wear a defense charm while you sleep, Daisy. Might deter him. I can work one up for you but it won’t be ready until tomorrow. Meanwhile, we’ll keep an alarm around your bedroom.”
“That’s as good a plan as any, I guess,” Daisy said, fighting her shock that Bridgette would even suggest charm. Inherents didn’t usually go in for the showy stuff. Some created charms for mortals. For a fee, of course. But most avoided them. “Until we talk to your mom. See if she has any ideas.” She raised her chin toward the coffee table. “I don’t understand why we didn’t find anything in that book, either. It called to me.”
“Might be something you missed.” Bridgette got a thoughtful look on her face. “Have you tried an enlightening spell on it?”
Daisy hid another instance of shock. “I didn’t even think of that?”
Bridgette patted her hand. “That’s what older and wiser cousins are for, dear.”
“Very funny. But not something I care to try, thank you very much.”
“What’s an enlightening spell?” Noah said.
Daisy turned to him. “Brings magickally hidden text out of books. If there is any. Downside—one mistake in the cadence or words and the entire book goes blank.”
“You mean—”
“She means white pages,” Bridgette said. Her gaze was on Daisy’s spell book. “Blank as the day they were written on.”
“Which is no big deal if it’s a modern book with lots of copies,” Daisy said.
“Ah,” Noah said. “But those magick books are irreplaceable.”
“Exactly. And hand written. Each and every one.”
“Aren’t there copies someplace?”
“A few. But I don’t know who got what. You or your mom have that one, Bridge?”
“No.”
“What about Cousin Sally?”
“Not that I remember.”
“I’ve never even done an enlightening spell beyond my training days. I like my books the way they are. Mom would’ve had a fit if I ever tried one on these. She didn’t believe it was worth the risk.” She took a drink.
Green eyes burrowed into her. “Your mom didn’t like to risk anything, Daisy. No offense to her spirit.”
She smiled. She missed her mother but Bridgette was right. Penny was a conservative witch, using magick only in emergencies, and tried to ma
ke her daughter live that way too. A lot like Gran in that respect. Probably had to do with Grandpa Owen’s liberal use of strong magicks that led to the Great Depression. Not something the family wanted to brag about. From what Daisy had heard, he drove the stocks up then cashed out in October of 1929 just before the “crash”, which, of course, had the desired effect and left him a wealthy man.
Would Mom consider this an emergency? Daisy gazed thoughtfully at the book.
“Why not contact your mother with a séance?” Noah said.
“Wouldn’t work,” Bridgette blurted. Her tone changed to that of recitation, “No paranormal is allowed to contact a family member of her generation or the one before, siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, first cousins, children, etc....” She smiled. “Even death has rules.”
“When they have close relatives still alive, their ties to this world are very strong,” Daisy said as she placed a hand on Noah’s. “Contact with us keeps them connected to us too strongly and creates havoc on the other side. But thanks for thinking of me, hon.”
“What about all those television psychics? Can you use one of them to contact her?”
Bridgette took a drink and gave Noah a suffering look.
Daisy smiled at her husband, glad he was finally so interested in paranormals, and said, “True psychics are rare. Only a handful exist. Most keep their gifts quiet. A few work for the police on missing persons, murder cases, stuff like that. You usually never hear about them. Very hush-hush. But there’ve been a couple of inherent psychics who’ve pissed off the paranormal world by going on television and claiming to be mediums.”
Bridgette made a sound of disgust. “Fame-seekers. Bastards. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten us all discovered.”
Daisy glanced at her cousin and nodded her agreement with that statement. Her attention drifted back to Noah. “Psychics get visions and interpret snippets of energy that get imprinted on things. Energy left behind from emotional stresses like wars, murders, rapes, those sorts of things. Psychics don’t see or hear the actual dead, like we did just now. That would take a medium or doing the kind of séance we just performed.” She stretched to relieve some of her tiredness.