Cursed: Paranormal Women's Fiction (Mid-Life Haunts Book 1)

by Nhys Glover

  By the time the apartment was shipshape, I felt as if Hayley and I had never been apart. I’d caught up on her years in Knoxville, her marriage to an engineer, who gave her a couple of children. Then the eventual divorce and the return to her old home with her teenage kids. The teens spent most vacations with their dad, so had already left for the summer. I knew both Mary and her mom were already missing them.

  The security detail was trained to stay in the background. They ate meals with us, had time off separately, and for the most part were indistinguishable from each other except in appearance. Karl was tall and fair, his blonde hair cut military short, while Fred was a shorter black man who shaved his head. Of the two, Fred was the friendlier, but not by much.

  Michael attempted to befriend the men, but was politely rebuffed. He was forced to go back to his attic explorations and hanging out with the girls.

  On my first trip to town with a bodyguard, I met up with Jake at the diner. As I doubted I would need more protection than Jake could provide, I told Karl to go check out the town a bit. After leaving me in Jake’s competent hands, he did just that.

  “How’s it going with the guys?” Jake asked as we seated ourselves in the same spot we’d taken not so long ago. It felt like months ago.

  “Good. Still settling in. I think the caseworker for the kids wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that we had full-time security. Yes, it looked like they were in danger, but then, they were in danger, so she decided it was probably good that I had the finances to keep them safe.”

  “And Lauren?” Jake pressed.

  “Her stitches are out, her bruises are almost gone, and her mood is as good as can be expected. She’s hyper vigilant, has nightmares most nights, and gets moody. I think she needs to see a counselor for what I think is PTSD. She’s fighting me on it, though. I gather she had a bad experience with a counselor after her parents were killed. And she doesn’t feel safe talking about her ability with people who don’t understand. And let’s face it, few people understand.”

  “Does she have much… ability? I mean, what can she do, bend spoons with her mind?” Jake asked, cautious and uncomfortable, as he always seemed to be when any mention of magic came up.

  “She had a melt down a week ago and broke nearly every piece of furniture in the parlor. She threw it around with her mind, like paper in the wind. We were lucky nobody got hurt. Of course, she was sorry about it later, and it is part of her PTSD, but I’m worried Faith or Hilary might get hurt next time it happens. So, yeah, she has a lot of ability, and not all of it’s under control.”

  I shivered just remembering the day. Michael had been in the attic and Lauren was feeling left out. She’d been wandering around the first floor like a tiger in a cage, snapping at Hil and Faith. Hilary had tried to teach her how to cook some simple meals, but because of her broken arm, she was clumsy.

  But it went deeper than that. It turned out that Mrs. Jones had tried to teach her too, and it was during one of those lessons that Lauren had slipped up by sending a spoon into the sink with her mind. So cooking was a sore point, and combined with what Lauren saw as Michael’s neglect, it set her off.

  I came down to find her screaming at the top of her lungs for Faith to leave her alone. And by the time I got to the parlor, chairs, tables and lamps were flying around like a whirlwind had found its way inside. It was totally terrifying.

  Luckily, Faith had run out before the storm got started, and I kept my distance until Lauren ran out of steam. After it was over, I held her close as she cried her pain and anguish out, while we sat on the floor in the middle of the devastated room. A room that reminded me too much of the devastated landscape beyond the broken window.

  Was this what I’d done to the land? Had my pain exploded out of me twenty-five years ago in the way Lauren’s had? Was the curse just in a different, more potent and insidious form of expressed trauma?

  The incident had left me… troubled, unsettled, and maybe a little bit hopeful that I was getting closer to the answer I sought. If I could understand Lauren’s dynamic, maybe I could understand my own.

  “You can’t keep her if she’s a danger to the rest of your family,” Jake said stiffly, stirring sugar into the coffee the pink-uniformed Kathy had put in front of him.

  “What do you want me to do with her?” I demanded angrily, my own frustrations starting to leak out onto the most deserving target in sight.

  He glared at me and glanced around the half-filled diner. I got the point. I was drawing attention to myself. But my temper was never easy to contain around Jake at the best of times, and this was definitely not the best of times.

  I drew in a few deep breaths to bring my heart-rate down. Jake tried to cover the lapse by sipping his coffee and staring at the table. Finally, after I felt more in control, I spoke again.

  “Look, I know you’re trying to help, but you don’t know what you’re dealing with. Those with gifts don’t fit into the mold. Most people don’t even believe magic like ours exists, and we like it that way. Because most people are either like you, uncomfortable with anything out of the norm, or like Herbert and his crew, downright antagonistic to what they see as demonic activity.

  “Lauren needs a counselor who has experience with abilities like hers, but there isn’t anyone like that. So, I don’t know what to do. What I won’t be doing, though, is abandoning her. Not after everything she’s been through.”

  Jake let out a heavy sigh. “You have a way of bringing out the worst in me, you know? If someone had asked me an hour ago if I’d be recommending sending that poor girl away, I’d have said no, with a capital N. Yet that’s what I did. I fucked up again.”

  That took the wind out of my sails. “Yeah, you did. But I understand why. Because I’ve had the same thoughts. How do I keep Faith, Hilary and her baby safe? Even Michael could get hurt if Lauren gets mad at him. But what is the alternative? Put her in a padded cell? Because she can’t go into foster care with an ordinary family. We at least understand her. I could send the others away, but that would only increase her guilt and pain.”

  Tears were pricking at my eyelids, and I was fighting to keep them from falling. I didn’t want Jake to see how truly at a loss I was.

  “Is there a witch’s network or something? Maybe if you reached out to others like you someone might know a counselor,” Jake suggested.

  I chuckled. “A witch’s network? That sounds like fun. We could get together and run competitions. Quidditch. We could all ride our broomsticks and play Quidditch.”

  It was Jake’s turn to look annoyed. “It was a reasonable question!”

  It was. He wasn’t to know that people like us didn’t tend to network. We stayed under the radar and rarely came in contact with others of our own kind outside the family. Lauren and Faith were the first people with magic I’d ever met who were unrelated to me.

  “It’s not that others don’t exist. I know they do. I just don’t know who they are. I barely keep contact with my own family, no less anyone else’s. And since good ol’ Harry Potter there are a lot of wannabes out there.”

  “What about the internet? Maybe there’s a network there. I’ve seen some pretty weird stuff on the net.”

  “Porn you mean?” I couldn’t help sounding snarky.

  He didn’t even give my comment a raised eyebrow in response.

  “Yeah, okay. I suppose it's possible,” I conceded. “I’ve been thinking of reaching out to see if anyone has ever encountered anything like our curse before. I’ve spent every spare moment in the last weeks scouring the books in Mom’s library, but they aren’t much use. I guess the net might ‘net’ me some answers.”

  Mollified that I was taking him seriously, Jake nodded and sipped his coffee. I noted for the first time that I wasn’t getting the same level of antagonism from the locals sitting around me.

  “Have people decided to accept me?” I asked, looking over at the few curious, but not antagonistic, gazes directed my way.

/>   “News of what you did for Lauren has gotten out. The sane elements of the town are horrified by what was done to that child and are turning their wrath Herbert’s way. I may have had a little to do with that. The gossip mill has its advantages when used correctly.”

  For the first time I smiled at my way-too-handsome companion. “Using the forces of evil for good, huh?”

  He shrugged. “If the Neighborhood Watch informs me of Herbert’s activities, it’s better than me putting one of my deputies on him.”

  “True enough. Any evidence that he instigated Lauren’s exorcism?”

  He shook his head, frowning. I wished he didn’t look so good when he frowned. Most people looked better when they smiled, Jake looked even better when he was moody and troubled. Like some vampire hero from TV or the movies. Bad boy, through and through.

  But bad boys do bad things. And I needed to remember what this particular bad boy did to me.

  Not that he had a reputation as a bad boy back then. But still…

  “But it’s early days. I doubt anyone saw the church as anything but a bunch of loud-mouthed idiots before this. Now they’re seeing them as a malignant and dangerous force. Which has got to work in your favor.”

  I nodded. “If people stop giving me the evil eye every time they see me, I’ll be grateful.”

  His surprised look made me laugh. “I was joking. Nobody has done that. Not even Herbert’s crazies. Some gestures have fallen out of favor, I guess. Like the peace sign.” I gave the peace sign the wrong way around. When I got the reaction I wanted, I acted as if I’d done it by mistake and reversed my hand so my palm was facing out, two fingers upright.

  “I think I saw the president use that gesture,” he said with a smirk.

  “Which one?” I flipped my hand again, making the rude gesture instead.

  “Were you always unruly like this?” he said, his smirk growing.

  I thought about that for a moment. I was being playful with the enemy, showing him my irreverent side. Had I had one of those when I was a kid or had that developed with Hilary? I remembered a lot of ‘unruly’ behavior with my daughter.

  “Probably not. Motherhood was good for me. Hilary was good for me.”

  For a moment Jake looked like a deer caught in headlights. “How old is she?”

  I jerked back in surprise at the odd change of topic. What did Hilary’s age have to… Oh, my god, he was worried that Hilary was his.

  For a moment I was tempted to torture him a little. But that could backfire on me badly. And I needed Jake on-side. He was already making my life in town so much easier. So, no, as much as he deserved it, I wouldn’t torture him with thoughts that Hilary might be his.

  “Too young to be yours. Don’t worry. None of your wild seeds got fertilized with me.”

  I scowled. That didn’t sound right.

  But Jake’s disappointment surprised me out of my worries over the accuracy of the analogy. Had he wanted Hilary to be his?

  Well, I would, obviously. But I knew what an amazing girl she was. But Jake didn’t.

  “I would have thought you’d have checked her driver’s license if you were worried she was yours,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, to be honest. Missing out on the childhood of my daughter… that would have been hard to live with.”

  “I imagine her biological dad could say the same, except I have no clue who he is. I went a little wild after I left town. Wanted to live up to my reputation… you know. Of being a whore and all?”

  He grimaced and looked away. “As I said, you bring out the worst in me. I better get back. All I wanted to tell you was that I’ve got eyes on Herbert, and if he even blinks in your direction I’ll arrest him. Just keep that girl safe. And… Cleo… You’re doing a good thing, taking her in. Not many people would. Troubled teens are easier to write off than help. That’s why there are so many of them on city streets around the country. Used to break my heart when I worked in New York.”

  A little of the chip on my shoulder crumbled away. It was nice to have him say something positive to me for a change.

  “Thanks. As I said. Abandoning her isn’t an option. We’ll muddle through.”

  13

  “I want a shotgun. They can do more damage over distance,” Lauren demanded stubbornly.

  My family, new and old, stood in a line in the backyard, a table in front of us. That table was covered with all kinds of weaponry. Each of us would get a different kind of gun that suited our individual needs. To me, they were all as bad as each other, just varying sizes of death.

  “You have a cast on your arm. A handgun would be better, until you have full use of your limbs,” Karl told her patiently.

  He was to be our teacher, while Fred placed targets and continued to monitor our safety from a distance.

  “I’m right-handed, and I’d have to shoot with my left because the cast is on my right arm. I couldn’t hit anything with my weaker hand,” the girl argued.

  She had a fair point. I was hopeless at anything with my left hand.

  “Look, I think this could work well,” Lauren continued, picking up what I took to be a shotgun with her left hand and placing it on top of her raised cast.

  It provided perfect support for the muzzle of the gun.

  “Recoil. It’ll hurt your shoulder,” Karl said doggedly.

  “Can I at least try?” she asked, softening her expression so a note of feminine entreaty showed through.

  “Okay, but don’t come to me tomorrow when your shoulder and arm are killing you!” he snapped, obviously hating to cave to a kid.

  After a brief lesson we all took on board, Lauren was shown how to hold the shotgun in a way that might minimize the pain. Doggedly, she absorbed the lesson and prepared for the test.

  I hated seeing the fierce zeal on her face as she lined up the shotgun at the target fifty yards away, her red hair looking like fire in the morning light. In her mind, she was sighting down the barrel at one of her torturers, I knew it.

  “Fire!” Karl ordered.

  A deafening boom had me covering my ears, even though I now stood several feet away from the table and Lauren.

  Did I hear a yelp from the girl? If so, was it from pain or just surprise?

  I looked down the field to the target. Nothing marred its pristine surface.

  “Well?” Karl demanded, hands on hips.

  The redhead lifted her chin as she lowered her cast-covered arm. “It didn’t hurt.”

  “You cried out,” Karl pointed out.

  So I had heard a yelp in with the boom.

  “Surprise. It was louder and had more jerk than I expected. But it didn’t hurt.”

  Karl shook his head, not convinced. But it looked like it would turn into the immovable object scenario, so I stepped in.

  “Let her work at it today. If she’s in too much pain tomorrow she can try a handgun instead,” I suggested, playing the peacekeeper.

  And so it was Lauren got to use her shotgun, and the rest of us got to work with the weapons that suited us best. It was a very, very long morning that left the target pretty much untouched.

  “It’ll be better tomorrow,” Karl assured us as we stared at the evidence of our ineptitude at the end of the session.

  I had a feeling he believed that no more than we did.

  At that moment, his cell buzzed and he looked at it. “Government issue SUV heading our way.”

  “That’ll be Dr. Myers,” I said, looking toward the private road leading up to the house.

  “He liiikes you,” Hilary teased, holding her hand to her heart.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. His men are taking their measurements on the spread today. He’ll just be dropping in out of politeness,” I assured her, embarrassed that this topic had been brought up around the others.

  I was a still-married mom, not a lovesick teenager, for goodness sake!

  “You didn’t see the red hearts blooming out of his eyes when he w
as watching you talk to the crazies at the funeral. And he’s a hunk!”

  Karl jerked his surprised gaze to my daughter.

  “What?” she demanded. “I’m married and pregnant but I’m not dead. I can appreciate a good male body.”

  The flirtatious way she glanced up and down the blonde giant’s form had both Karl and I blushing.

  Should I say something or would it just make things worse? Hilary was obviously trying to shock him, because he was always so unemotional.

  I decided to leave it. He’d get Hilary’s measure soon enough. Instead, I hurried forward to meet the scientist, who had climbed out of his vehicle and was striding purposefully in our direction. As much as I didn’t want to give credence to Hilary’s words, it did give me a nice little buzz to think this good-looking man might like me. He sure did seem to pop in a lot. Even after my embarrassing revelations.

  “Cleo,” he said, by way of greeting, looking past me at the distant virginal target. “What’re you doing?”

  “Not much, if the unmolested target is anything to go by. Karl is teaching us how to shoot. In case the pastor’s people decide to do more than just yell abuse at us,” I said, a little flustered.

  Damn Hilary and her teasing.

  “You need more than this,” Luke growled, watching the gang pass us by, heading for the house, arms loaded down with weapons.

  “I had an expert advise me. And what can they do to us out here? There’s nothing left to burn. Short of a drone strike, I think we’ve got it covered.”

  Luke frowned, looking less than convinced. “You can’t be too careful and prepared.”

  I nodded, hoping he was wrong but knowing he was right. “I know. We’re doing all we can.”

  Mom had popped in and out a few times over the weeks, and even Faith had seen her. She seemed happy to have more people around, but her distress was still the most obvious emotion I got off her.

  Two weeks after coming home I was getting ready for bed. The kids had all gone to their rooms and I’d set the alarm. Somewhere, Karl or Fred would be keeping an eye on things, but they’d do it in such a way as to not disturb us at all.