by J. R. Rain
“I think you belong wherever the Goddess guides you to be. Only you will know that.” He traces a finger along my jawline, coaxing me to look at him again. When I do, he kisses me gently on the lips. “Perhaps you’re looking for a completely shaved insane man with no eyebrows who’s burned off his fingerprints.”
That makes me laugh, but a long sigh follows. “The next body… how many is it going to take before this guy makes an error? Two? Five? Ten? I can’t just sit around waiting for the next person to die like I’m trying to follow breadcrumbs.”
“Losing hope won’t help them.”
I close my eyes, images of the victims, the crime scenes, and evidence swirling around in my head. “This guy’s so thorough, I feel out of my league. Like I’m chasing a Russian spy or something.”
Caius draws in a breath. “Perhaps it’s time to ask for help.”
The tattered fragments of my mood leap up from the floor and come together. I sit up straight. “I think you’re right. If I try to do this strictly in mundane ways, this son of a bitch is going to leave a long line of victims. And he’s a sadistic bastard.”
Caius scoots over to sit on the edge of the cushion next to me. “If he’s not leaving any traces, visioning might not help much and you couldn’t build a case from it.”
“Right. I need something to go wrong for him. An error… a mistake. Some of the worst streak killers and criminals have been caught by sheer dumb luck, like at traffic stops.”
“I feel it’s time for a jinx,” says Caius.
I cringe. “That’s a little dark for me. You know I don’t like to throw out negative energy, even something like a clumsiness hex.”
“This man is out of balance with the universe. A jinx need not be vengeful, but instead draw its power from this imbalance.”
“Yes!” I grin at him. “An energy return, but we guide the feedback into bad luck.”
“Exactly.” Caius stands and offers me an arm. “Shall we?”
I get up, tie my robe closed, and take his arm. “We shall.”
While Caius heads out to the backyard to start setting up our circle, I run to the greenhouse. I’m going to use blessed thistle as the primary reagent. Hopefully, its affinity for protection spells will let me send out a shield over future victims. Since I don’t know who the killer might target, I’ll focus on him instead―sort of like putting bubble wrap around a knife so it can’t hurt anyone. Also, since I’m squeamish about working a hex, even against a nutjob killer, a little extra blessed thistle goes toward protecting Caius and myself from stray negative energy.
I’m going to be throwing out magic to give this guy bad luck as retribution for the negative energy he’s sent into the world. Unfortunately, that means the next time I do something iffy, I’m going to get some proportional bad luck in return. Tis the way of magic.
Next, I grab some camellia as an offering of gratitude. I plan to invoke Morrigan tonight, since I am at war with this psycho, and I will be intensely grateful if she can intervene here. Of course, since this is a hex, I need some cayenne pepper to lend it strength. A little extra of that, too, to call on the fire spirit. I loop into the next row and collect some galangal root, due to its association with luck, then a pinch of nutmeg, also a luck-related herb. Finally, I gather a bit of mandrake. I’m not playing around with this guy. Mandrake lends any spell power, kind of like a stereo amplifier does for music.
Since our ritual space is right in the backyard―and we have high fences―I don’t bother changing. This robe, albeit only a few inches down my thighs, is plenty. I’m sure Caius wouldn’t mind if we went ‘full Gardnerian,’ but it doesn’t feel right for this.
Next, I unfurl a sheet of blank parchment on my little desk within the greenhouse, dab a quill in ink, and write:
Lady Morrigan, hear my heart’s desire.
Upon this killer show your ire.
I in full knowing and full intent, enact this hex.
A person I do not know took the life of Benjamin Gibson.
A person I do not know took the life of Angela Cortez.
I desire he suffer luck most foul.
I desire to bring the universe back to balance.
I desire his crimes to cease.
I desire the negativity and hurt he sows turn back on him times three.
I desire he come to no harm as a result of this spell.
May this bad luck be limited so as not to cause injury or death.
May this hex lead me to him.
I sign my name, then roll the parchment into a scroll, which I bind with wax. As I put the quill away, I stare at a small lancet. The sight of it makes me close my eyes and ask the Goddess that I never be so angry and foolish that I invoke a blood hex on anyone. More to the point, I ask that Caius, my coven, and any potential offspring I may have are never harmed. If someone ever hurt any of them, I wouldn’t much care what happened to me as long as whoever hurt my family suffered for it.
After a brief stop by my laptop to print out small photos of Benjamin Gibson and Angela Cortez, as well as some excerpts from the coroner reports, I pad out back. The air is charged with the beautiful fragrance of a recently ended rain shower. Wet grass chills my toes as I make my way to the left, following the footpath over to the concrete platform with our permanent pentacle. Caius has already got the candles set up and arranged some bowls within the circle.
I kneel between the Earth and Fire points, and arrange the herbs in the bowls. The printouts I keep close by. Caius offers me the athame, as well as a nod. I take the blade. Caius kneels at the north point, facing me. We close our eyes at the same time, and I concentrate on centering myself, letting the tranquility of this sacred space and the presence of the Goddess infuse my body.
Worry and urgency melt away over the span of several minutes. My heart swells at the Goddess hearing my silent plea for peace. Momentarily free from the burdens of my earthly responsibilities, I open my eyes and stand. Caius rises to his feet as well. In unison, we walk clockwise around the circle three times, the athame in my hands pointing down at the line circumscribing the pentacle. I draw a line of energy separating us from the world, creating a shield to ward off negative energies.
As Caius lights the spirit candle, I picture an offering of my energy flying into the star.
Caius lights the candle at the southwest point, and I place a crystal beside it to represent Earth.
He lights the candle at the southeast point; I light a tea candle beside it to represent Fire.
Caius lights the east candle, and I rest a sage bundle beside it, representing air.
When he lights the west candle, I place a chalice of water beside it.
I stand, facing east, letting my thoughts focus on a stormy wind whipping at my hair. “Spirits of Air, I call upon you.”
“We invite you to our circle,” says Caius.
I turn to the south, picturing crackling flames and scorching heat. “Spirits of Fire, I call upon you.”
“We invite you to our circle,” says Caius.
Facing west, I imagine standing on a rocky peninsula surrounded by crashing ocean. “Spirits of Water, I call upon you.”
“We invite you to our circle,” says Caius.
I turn north, savoring the sensation of my bare feet upon the ground, feeling the energy of the earth. “Spirits of Earth, I call upon you.”
“We invite you to our circle,” says Caius.
The candle flames flutter higher and dance about.
I walk the circle, athame pointing down, picturing my energy flowing from my arms over the blade to the pentacle. Three times, we circle, then stop, facing each other. Again, I concentrate on the touch of earth at my soles, picturing my energy delving deep beneath the ground. “Mother Earth, I call upon you.”
Caius raises his arms to the skies. His silver amulet, two crescents on either side of a full moon, gleams in the moonlight. “Goddess, we invite your favor to our humble circle.”
I recite,
“Goddess, patron of fertile Earth and shining moon,
“We know you as the Maiden with vibrant heart and youth,
“We know you as the Mother who nurtures,
“We know you as the Crone who provides wisdom and compassion,
“We know you as birth, life, love, and death
“We know you as north, south, east and west,
“The center and the veil between, inside us and beside us,
“Descend upon our circle to witness our ritual in your honor.”
Caius takes the athame and recites,
“Cernunnos, Lord of sky and wilds,
“We know you as the Consort with the generous and lustful,
“We know you as the Hunter with stout body and unmatched cunning,
“We know you as the Father, thoughtful and wise,
“We know you as birth, life, love and death
“We know you as north, south, east and west,
“The center and the veil between, inside us and beside us,
“Descend upon our circle to witness our ritual in your honor.”
We both hold the athame over the center of the circle, meditating on the energy gathering around us. The wind has gone still, the earth silent. No sounds from civilization reach my ears.
“I thank thee spirits,” I say. “The circle is cast, blessed be.”
“Blessed be,” says Caius.
I kneel within the circle and mix the herbs together. Caius’ eyebrows notch upward when he notices the mandrake, but he says nothing. After arranging them all in a large bronze bowl around an incense cone, I use the fire from the tea candle to ignite it.
While the burn creeps down toward the herbs, I envision the two murder victims and concentrate on the idea of the individual responsible. Soon, the fragrant herbal smoke surrounds me.
I recite,
“Broken soul with dark intent,
“Upon pain and suf’ring bent,
I raise the scroll upon which I’d inscribed the reasons and intent of my hex.
“With purpose clear and magic true,
“I charge thee hence, your luck undo.”
I tip the end of the scroll into the Fire point candle, and set the burning paper in the bowl with the herbs.
Caius recites,
“Spirits, Goddess, forces old,
“Etch her words, a fate be told.
“Feed this hex on darkness bind,
“Times three return fate in kind.
I add the printouts of the victim’s information to the burning pile, picturing their souls rejoining Gaia’s energy and becoming part of the universal life. My thoughts focus on the spirits guiding them through that journey so that they may once more come to Earth.
“From this world, these souls have gone,
“Goddess guide them to return.”
The last of the papers burn to smoke.
“Spirit of Air take this spell,
“To where God and Goddess dwell.
“I call upon Morrigan to hear my plea.
“So I desire, so mote it be.”
“So mote it be,” says Caius.
A sense of energy swirls up around me. Caius holds my hands. We sit for a moment together in silence. I focus my thoughts entirely on wanting the killer to experience a fit of bad luck that won’t harm him or anyone else, but will help me find him. My utmost wish in this moment is to stop him from taking another life.
I stand, as does Caius.
“I thank thee, Goddess and God, spirits of Air, Earth, Water, and Fire. Stay if you will.”
“Go if you must,” says Caius.
“You are ever welcome in our hearts and home,” I say.
“We bid you hail and farewell,” says Caius.
We walk the circle three times counterclockwise. I picture the energy going back from whence it came.
The candles sputter and wink out to a sudden breeze that also half covers my face in hair.
Caius grins at me. “Now you’ve done everything you can do. You’ll find the bastard. He might know how to hide from the police, but he can’t hide from Morrigan.”
“Thank you.” I embrace him tight. “You didn’t have to risk yourself, too.”
“Of course I did.” When we pull apart, he takes my hand in both of his. “We are as one already. I’ve no need of rituals or rites to tell me what I already feel in my soul.”
My eyes well with tears of joy. “We are as one, and I would not wish for anything else.”
Our lips meet for a long, deep kiss. We stand upon our ritual circle in each other’s arms, letting our energy mingle and merge. A soft breeze stirs, heavy with the wet scent of dirt and grass. I could stand here forever and be happy.
“Caius?”
“Yes, my love?” he whispers.
“If or when we decide to usher a soul back from Gaia…” I glance at our verdant yard and a rush of warmth spreads over my cheeks. “I’d like to feel the touch of grass at my back and bask in the light of the moon.”
He caresses my cheek, smiling. “I believe that can be arranged.”
We’ve ‘experimented’ in the bedroom more than most couples, but getting frisky out in the backyard would be a first. A nerve-wracking first. Thrilling though… but not now. There’s too much on my mind.
Caius is so in sync with me, it’s as if he can read my thoughts. We clean up the circle and head back inside to spend the rest of the night holding each other and talking.
Chapter Twenty
The Chapel
Saturday Morning – July 22, 2017
Much to my great disappointment, my bedroom ceiling does not hold the answer to any of my problems, no matter how long I stare at it. Caius’ voice comes from downstairs. He’s on the phone, probably related to his music. One downside to owning the business―no such thing as a day off. At times, the same is true for detectives.
This was one of those times.
I would normally crawl out of bed and go in to the station to keep staring at useless information, but an anvil of guilt perches on my chest, pinning me to the mattress. With nothing to go on and no idea where or even if the killer will strike again, I can’t help but dwell on Angela’s death.
And Farmer’s. And that damn shadow.
“Shit,” I say.
I sit up in the middle of our giant bed and stare at the wall. The shadow. Is that thing needling at me, dragging my thoughts toward guilt and uselessness? It knows I went digging into Elise’s past, and it attacked Isabelle trying to get to me. Even if it isn’t responsible for affecting my thoughts, if I allow myself to become too consumed with guilt, it could use that to get in.
Still in my sleeping attire (nothing), I grab my cell phone from the nightstand and call Isabelle, pacing around the bedroom while it rings.
“Oh, hey, Maddy, what’s up?”
Thank the Goddess. She sounds normal. “Been awhile since we talked. I’ve been up to my eyeballs with a case that’s driving me nuts. I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Oh, fine.” She proceeds to ramble about her job, a paralegal, and winds up mostly complaining about one of the partners at the firm. The guy’s the kind of lawyer who charges like $500 an hour and thinks anyone who isn’t a lawyer, judge, senator, or doctor, is a peasant.
When that topic winds down, I ask, “So has anything unusual happened around you since the camping trip?”
“Oh, you mean that shadow thing?”
I bite my lip at the sudden awareness of my need to pee. “Yeah.”
“No. I’m wearing that necklace you gave me still, even if I do feel a bit silly. It’s cute, though. Noah’s woke up screaming a few times, but he calmed as soon as I went in to check on him. He didn’t say anything about seeing shadows though. No idea if it’s ‘weird’ or just normal kid nightmares.”
“That makes me feel a lot better.” I pad into the bathroom. “So, umm―”
Beep.
“Ugh. Hang on a sec, I’m getting another call.”
“Okay,” says Isabelle.
Dammit, come on. I need to go. I flip over to the other call. “Hello?”
“Maddy?” asks Abigail. “I think we need to do something tonight about our little problem.”
“Oh, no… what happened?” I ask.
“Elise woke up screaming last night from a wicked nightmare. It may have been a vision, but it’s difficult for me to say if it’s prophetic or simply fear getting to her. She thinks that busybody pastor is going to do something quite bad, and soon. Perhaps kill himself or murder a number of his followers to blame us for it.”
“Damn. Look, Abigail, I don’t think it’s that man’s doing.” I explain what I saw at the chapel, and my opinion that the shadow entity is responsible for his attacking our coven. “The man’s possibly not even a real preacher. I doubt he has sincere faith.”
“We need to banish the entity tonight,” says Abigail.
“Please tell Elise not to worry. I’ll make sure nothing happens with Waters and his ‘flock.’ Caius and I will be there later. I’m going to go see if I can sever that thing’s connection to the pastor first. Or, if they’re planning their own little Jonestown, stop it.”
“All right. Be careful, Madeline.”
Ugh. Full name. She’s worried. “I will. Thank you.”
I click back over to Isabelle once Abigail hangs up. “Sorry about that. Hey, I need to run. Something’s come up.”
“No problem. You wanna maybe grab lunch next Saturday?”
“Sure if I’m not stuck for work.”
“Cool. Talk later.”
I jump on the toilet, then rush a shower before getting dressed in a plain olive-drab T-shirt, jeans and my Timberlands. Add badge and gun, and I head downstairs with my phone at my ear.
“What’s up Wims?” asks Rick, sounding a touch out of breath.
“Are you busy at the moment? I wanted to ask a favor.”
“Nah, just testing out the heavy bag downstairs.”
“Sounds like you’re having a good time.”