Dead Witch Walking (Demon Isle Witches Uncut): Hi-Ho Black Magic-O, A Cursing We Will Go (A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Book 10)

by Starla Silver

  “Sorry, Lizzy. I’m trying not to bore you to death. But I finally got the balls to go into my parents’ bedroom. They did leave something for me. A box, filled with notebooks and books. Everything they could locate about what it meant to live as a werewolf. It doesn’t seem fair of me to read some of this to you, as it would pertain to you too, if you choose me when all this is over. But on the other hand, you have a right to know what you’re getting into before you make that choice. It is the fair thing to do.” He yawned. “Damn. Sorry. Haven’t really slept. I will try like hell not to bore you to death, but my mind is feeling a little… hazy. Definitely better to read to you than try to come up with my own thoughts right now. Because they’d all be kind of dark, and I’m afraid, pretty soon, not making a hell of a lot of sense.”

  His mind was feeling the lack of rest and the exhaustion of the situation. Bathing in the hopelessness of it all. He opened the first notebook at the top and started reading.

  CHAPTER 6

  Emily’s eyes drifted open. Her mind, groggy. Her surroundings, unfamiliar. A craving for something sweet growling around her stomach. She breathed in sharply and sat up on a plush sofa in a house she did not recognize; a few beads of sweat on her brow from the intense humidity and heat that sucked any deeply breathable air right out of the room.

  “Hello, Emily.” A kind voice to her left. She flicked her head to a woman she recognized, and yet, did not, as it was simply not possible. No, this was not her mother. Almost her, but something was off.

  “Who-who are you? Where am I?” A few things slid back into place. Emily had fled The Demon Isle, and Michael, and had run away only to sit in her car after getting off the ferry having no idea where to go. And that’s when, “My mother…” she looked at the nearly identical version of her mother to her left.

  “I can only imagine your confusion.”

  How did this woman know who she was? And holy hell the closer she looked, and the more the woman spoke, and moved, she was getting more and more like her mother.

  “How do you know me?”

  “We met once. A very long time ago. You were just a baby so you’d not remember.” The woman got to her feet wiping her moist hands on her skirt before holding out a hand to Emily.

  “I’m Luciana. Everyone calls me Lucy. You can call me Aunt Lucy.”

  “Um, what?” Emily unconsciously shook her hand and the woman sat back down.

  “I’m your mother’s twin sister.”

  Emily attempted speech but her tongue got all twisted. Her mother had a sister? A twin sister?

  “She never told you about me,” Lucy explained. “We had a… falling out. Right around the time you were born. It was unfortunate. And went on for far too long.”

  “Holy shit. My mother.” Emily cupped her mouth. “Sorry, I don’t normally swear much.”

  “Don’t be sorry, doll, holy shit sums it up rather perfectly.”

  “My mother, she brought me here, didn’t she? She was in the car, and then,” she waved her arms around. “Here.” Her befuddled brain wasn’t firing up yet.

  “She did bring you here. Last night you arrived, and she explained many things. Emily, I’m so very sorry about your father. We were not close, I’d only met him a few times but he came across as a very nice man and a doting father.”

  “Yes,” was all Emily could muster in reply. Her eyes, frozen on the woman so much like her mother. To say she was stunned would be an understatement. “Where exactly am I? I’m wagering by this heat I’m not in Maine anymore?”

  “Oh my, no, you are not. Georgia.”

  It was where her parents had moved from before going to The Demon Isle. And yet Emily had lived in Georgia for many years before that happened and still never found out she had an aunt. How was this possible?

  “It’s early morning. Would you care for some coffee?”

  “Yes. Yes, that would be nice, thank you.” Maybe the caffeine would kick-start her brain into working right.

  Lucy smiled kindly and motioned for her to follow into the kitchen. There was an open door leading to a covered porch, which appeared to wrap around the house. Her aunt poured two mugs of coffee, let Emily make hers just how she liked it and brought out a plate piled high with sugary confections.

  “I’m assuming you’ve got the sweet tooth? All Spirit Vessels do. Did you know that?”

  Emily let out a sharp breath. The whole Vessel thing hadn’t even crossed her mind. This was so overwhelming it was just now hitting her that her mother had possessed her body and driven her to Georgia to meet her sister. Emily’s aunt, who also was aware of what the heck a Spirit Vessel was.

  “Are you one too?” The question came out before she could stop herself.

  “Yes. Most women in our family are. It skips a generation now and again, and for whatever reasons, sons do not inherit the gift. Only daughters. Something to keep in mind if you ever have children of your own. Wait, um, do you have any? Sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know much about you.”

  “No. No kids, or family. Well, I guess there’s you.” And crap! Michael. Out of a moment of panic she reached into her jeans pocket and found her cell. So many missed messages from him. She attempted to hit reply but stopped.

  “Your mother did not reply,” Lucy explained. “She didn’t feel it was her place and did not wish to speak on your behalf.”

  “I’m not sure how to respond. I love him, so much. But if I reply, he’s going to ask questions I don’t have answers to yet, and it’ll just hurt him even more.” She put the phone down.

  “Why don’t we have our pile of sugar and coffee on the porch? There’s a breeze outside this morning.” Emily noticed she didn’t say cool. Or nice. And it wasn’t. It was a breeze, one that slathered a moist, mist-like heat across her skin.

  Emily sipped and ate in a few minutes of peaceful silence.

  Lucy was keen on going slow on her niece, and not overwhelming her with too much, too fast.

  One coffee and a cheese danish later, Emily started to feel like her pistons were firing correctly again.

  “Is it always like that, when someone has possessed you for a while, you feel all groggy and out of it? And in need of a sugar high?”

  Lucy lifted her almost finished pastry. “The sugar helps bring you back to yourself faster. Can’t possibly explain why. How are you feeling now?”

  “Much better, thanks. A little more with it.”

  “But still overwhelmed I imagine.”

  “Very much so, yes.”

  Lucy set down her coffee mug. “Your mother wants me to teach you. Would you like that?”

  “You mean about being a Spirit Vessel?”

  “Yes. She is distraught that you’re not prepared.” It looked like she had a lot more to say, but held back. “I’m willing, if you are. I realize we’re practically strangers, Emily. But I can help you. If you want me to.”

  “How can I say no? I didn’t even find out I was a vessel until this summer. I had no clue I even had an aunt.” Gloss covered her eyes, and not from the moist heat layering the rest of her. She wasn’t alone after all. She had family. An aunt, who was also a vessel. And her own dead mother, who’d obviously hid a lot from her, had gotten her here. A hand found hers.

  “I think we will get along just fine, you and I.” Lucy gave her hand a quick squeeze. “You’re not alone in this world Emily Morgan. In fact,” she let go and climbed to her feet. “If you think you’re ready, you could speak with your mother.”

  Emily’s heart stalled.

  “I am a vessel too,” Lucy reminded, the real meaning of that finally breaking into Emily’s brain. “And your mother’s spirit is still with us.”

  Emily never dreamed in a thousand lifetimes of something like this. Another chance to speak to her mother! She nodded, unable to vocalize her yes.

  Lucy took her seat again and closed her eyes. “Lily,” she whispered softly. “I’m ready. I’m opening myself to you.” Her body inhaled deeply, fluxing with a new br
eath. Her eyes fluttered open, staring into the browns of Emily’s.

  So fluid, the exchange. No fear or panic. Could it really be like that?

  “That still takes some getting used to. Being solid again.” Lucy, now Lily, flexed her arms and jaw and face.

  “Mom?”

  Lily Morgan got up and came to her daughter. Emily met her half way in an embrace she’d never have guessed would ever happen. And then proceeded to lose it. A complete breakdown. And not once did her mother pester or ask questions. Just held her until it finally ended. Which was a good thirty minutes later.

  “There, there Baby Girl. It’s all going to be okay now.” She pushed the damp edges of Emily’s hair out of her eyes, away from her face.

  “Sorry. I guess I was really holding that in. I miss you so much. And dad. And wow, it’s really messed up, all of this. It’s not you, and yet it is you, and it even looks like you because she’s your twin.”

  “I understand. And I’m sorry. For so many things, Emily. I failed you, by not explaining who and what you are. I thought… I thought I could protect you from it. Let you live a normal life. Lucy always warned me it would never work, but you know me.”

  “Once you set your mind to something,” Emily, sniffled, getting a better hold of herself. “Is that what you argued about, all those years ago? Over me?”

  “Yes, and no. It was so much more than that, but the manner in which I wanted to raise you was the final straw let’s say.”

  “Oh, Mom.” She stared in disbelief, with the emotional reunion part over, and no clue where to start. What else to say, or how much time they had.

  Emily’s phone beeped again. She deflated even more. Michael’s new every morning text.

  “The poor man. You really should put him out of his misery. I always did like him for you.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Emily repeated in feeble bedazzlement.

  “You don’t have to tell him anything more than, you’re okay. He’s got to be dying inside just not knowing you’re safe somewhere.”

  “I understand that, and I want to tell him. That much at least, that I’m okay. But Michael… he will instantly ask me when I’m coming home. If I’m coming home. And the truth is, I can’t answer any of those questions. I’m not even sure where home is for me anymore.”

  “And that’s okay.”

  Emily let the text go for now, she’d come back to him later. She had her mother- her freaking mother- sitting in front of her for most likely just a short time.

  “Mom, I,” she found herself staring again, holding a giddy sort of a grin, the shock refusing to wear off.

  “How about, we catch up a little before I let my sister free. I don’t have intentions of leaving anytime soon. After I left your body early this morning, I feared I might get my door and have to move on. It didn’t come, which leads me to believe I will be able to stick around and help Lucy with your training.”

  “What? Really? And how?”

  “She will help you from the land of the living, and I will be your practice. Basically, I’ll attempt to take over your body until you can resist me. Amongst other things.”

  “This is all so… weird. And kind of awesome.”

  “I did it all wrong, Baby Girl. But I’m going to make it right. When, or if, you leave here for The Demon Isle, or wherever, you’ll be ready. You won’t have to be afraid anymore. And once I’ve moved on,” the sad truth, it would happen. “You won’t be alone anymore. Your aunt is a good woman. Stubborn. And stuck in her ways. But thank God for that. Give her a chance and do not judge her harshly for our departure from each other’s lives. We are stubborn women. Even more so because we are twins. We spent most of our young lives trying to be as different as possible, but in the end, we are more alike than unalike. And she is family, and she is an expert at our family heritage. Let her teach you. I’ll help when I can. This won’t be the last time we talk.”

  Such a massive wave of relief, angst, and excitement washed over Emily.

  “Now, we have a few hours or so before I have to leave this meat suit, so let’s catch up a little.”

  And they did. For hours, during the sweltering summer morning. A morning Emily would never forget. Ever.

  CHAPTER 7

  Riley rushed out of William’s house in Sorcier, heading toward the location his feeling was taking him. It was back near Jean and Annie’s pub, the door he’d first come through when he arrived here. He had no idea why, but he needed to go back through that door. On foot this time though, no motorcycle required. Which he hoped meant short distance, quick job, and back in time to feed William his next dose of detox blood.

  He stopped at the pub door, which was open and planted his hands on the frame. Annie caught him there, out of breath.

  “How do I get back through that door?” he demanded in a rush.

  Jean and Annie were at the front door in a flash.

  “It will just open if you approach it,” Annie told him, asking, “What’s wrong?”

  “Somewhere I have to be.”

  “I see,” said Jean. There was a simpering smile on her lips. “You’d better hurry then. Annie, go with him. We’re slow here.”

  She didn’t hesitate and tore off her apron eagerly. She and Riley headed toward the door and like promised, it automatically opened for him. They ran through, popping through the dark tunnel into the alley no one ever seemed to notice. Right into the heart of the French Quarter. Tourists partied down the sidewalks paying no attention to the two people who just joined them out of nowhere.

  “Where to?” Annie asked.

  Riley nodded to the left and they sped off, scampering down the busy streets, parting tourists to get through. Considering it was only mid-morning, most people were already well into lit, and on their way to drunk. Sorcier was located in the perfect spot. If someone happened to see something odd, one would simply pass it off as a drunken memory that wasn’t possibly real.

  A few blocks down, Riley paused. The crowd lightened some. He was at an intersection and a moment of panic hit him; he had no idea which way to go. He spun around, unsure. His feeling giving him nothing.

  A gun shot.

  Screams.

  Another gun shot.

  More screams.

  People fleeing in all directions.

  “Let me guess,” bleated Annie. “We’re going toward the gunshots?”

  Riley responded by doing just that. Which was fucking insane. Annie might not get hurt by a bullet, but he sure could. Regardless of that danger, his feeling told him there was something he needed to fix, and fast. So toward the gunshots he ran, with Annie, at human speed, right behind him.

  It wasn’t long before they came to a small crowd of young women screaming over another splayed on the ground, covered in a mixture of blood and spilled slushy drinks. One of the girls was trying to dial 911 on her cell but her hands shook so badly she dropped the phone.

  “The one on the ground’s been shot,” advised Annie. The fresh human blood pouring out of her wound stopped the vampire in her tracks.

  “Shit. Annie?”

  “I’m okay.” The vampire didn’t look so okay. “Really. I just need a second. Go.”

  Riley pressed into the group of girls. Crying and sobbing. Instantly sobered.

  “She’s been shot,” one of the girls shrieked. “Some asshole shot her and ran off.” The girl was on her knees next to her friend trying to stop the blood loss. But she was doing it all wrong. How Riley was sure of that, he had no idea.

  “Where’d the prick go who shot her?” demanded Annie. They pointed, and she flew off in that direction. Looking for the gunman was a much smarter plan than being around all that tempting human blood.

  “Hey,” said Riley to the bloodied young woman on the ground. “I’m going to help you. Okay?” He had no idea where the confidence came in his voice, but his hands didn’t shake, his determination hell bent on saving her.

  So much blood. He gently lifted the bottom of her shirt to t
ake a look. Gunshot right into her stomach. He lifted her up off the ground just enough to see underneath her. A wound and more blood; the shot had gone straight through. There was no bullet lodged inside. That was good.

  Wait, how did he even know that?

  Doesn’t matter, just fix. His brain, body, and hands went into some sort of autopilot.

  “What’s your name?” he asked the woman, keeping her focus on him and his voice, and not what his hands were doing, which he couldn’t even say as they moved of their own volition.

  “Ma-Madison,” she stammered.

  “You’re going to be fine, Madison. I promise. Just take some slow, even breaths for me, okay?”

  She nodded, weakly, but obeyed.

  He twisted his head to her friends. “Do the breaths with her, and talk to her. It will keep her from passing out and we want her to stay awake, okay?”

  They did so without question.

  Someone had finally gotten through to 911 and there were police and ambulance on the way.

  This girl didn’t have that much time, she was bleeding out.

  Without really being present in his own mind, Riley’s hands flew into full-on saving her life mode. Like all the information he needed to treat, and save, this young woman’s life, was instantly downloaded into his brain.

  Down a few blocks, Annie stalked the shooter.

  Taking him down wouldn’t be hard, for her. He was clearly wasted, most likely high on something. And still waving the damn gun around like a fucking toy. Idiot was bound to shoot someone else.

  People were fleeing the area around the crazed man. But Annie followed. The predator inside, normally so docile and suppressed, getting a thrilling rise out of the act.