by Abby Knox
There was a knock on the door sooner than expected. Except the knock was not coming from the outside of the shed, but the house. Well, that was expected. How was the handsome detective to know where she was?
But when she opened the door of the shed to peek out, she saw that it was Fern knocking on her front door.
“Can I help you, Fern?”
Fern startled at the sound of Morgan’s voice.
“Oh! There you are.” The younger witch turned and approached.
Morgan worked hard to soften her face as she closed the distance between herself and her neighbor and held out her hand in greeting.
But Fern did not offer any kind of warmth. “I heard the whole story from Birdie. What the hell were you thinking, casting a violent spell right in the middle of town for everyone to see? You’re going to announce our real identities to every lunatic in Birchdale!”
“But I had to act!”
“And you compromised everything we’ve worked for in the process. Maybe because you’re older and more powerful you don’t understand. We all need each other. The more people find out our secrets, the more vulnerable we are.”
“Fern, it’s been a very long, very weird day. Can we talk about this later?”
“No, I’ve only got one more thing to say to you, and then we’re done. You can’t just go around pulling back the veil between worlds when your emotions take hold of you. You’re trifling with danger. It’s because of this instability that you have not been the best ally for the Sisters. We like to keep things on the down low. Simple charms. Harvest festivals. Demonstrations. Tour groups. Our whole purpose is to remind people of their history so they don’t repeat it. To help people coexist with others who are different. And, occasionally, we dance naked under the moon when we’re feeling frisky. It’s not because we’re weaker than you are. It’s our cautiousness that makes us strong. Do you understand any of what I’m saying to you?”
Morgan was completely gobsmacked. So, the coven believed she was too free with her magic? And all this time she thought she was the one who had a better handle on it.
Better not let her in on the detective secret. That was for sure.
“Morgan, your powers don’t have enough of an outlet, and so they are causing a fracture between the worlds and doing actual damage around the Normals. Your emotions are not under control. This is why we do the things we do. We stay home and do magic and rituals for our own good. It keeps us from gazing in on ourselves too much and it also keeps the world safe from our fuck ups. Don’t you see?”
Morgan’s eyes filled with tears. “You are astonishingly wise, young Fern. I’m so sorry,” Morgan said. “But that still doesn’t explain why Hank Snow’s hand healed so quickly.”
“It’s simple,” said Fern. “Somebody or something was working against you. Another witch, a human with access to a spell book, maybe? Or an unkind spirit. Some person or some creature is on to you, and they are equal to your power. That Snow character is not just a common criminal, I’m afraid. Ask your detective friend about him.”
“How do you know about the detective?”
“Sweetheart, you’ve got his scent on you and he’s following you. Either you just had sex with him or you are about to. Either way, he’s your match. Online Canadian boyfriend, my ass.”
“But I thought the Sisters frowned on mating with a Normal? I thought we were only supposed to use them for casual fun?”
“Oh honey. They’re just some old-fashioned values that nobody cares about anymore.”
The detective! Morgan had almost forgotten.
“Um, OK, thank you, Fern! We’ll talk later! Bye now!”
She would have to ponder all this new information later. Adam would be here any minute. She hurried Fern off the porch and went inside her house to freshen up.
She did not dare presume that the detective would be coming here just to have sex with her, so she did not bother putting on any expensive lingerie. She absolutely believed in jinxes, so if she assumed something good was going to happen, too much preparation for it would tell the universe you’re too greedy to receive it with an open mind and heart.
The only thing she did do was start a pot of coffee in her copper French press. Detectives liked coffee, didn’t they? Should she conjure up some donuts? That might be too much stereotyping. Although, that man certainly did not appear to be a connoisseur of donuts. The only thing donut-shaped she could envision the detective lifting would be a tractor tire with his own two hands.
She got a slight flutter of pleasure imagining his ripped shoulders and wondered if she would get to see them anytime soon. The only thing she’d seen bare of him during her vision last night was the most essential body part.
But there was no knock at the door. She waited and waited. She fidgeted. She took his contact card out of her handbag and considered using her landline to call his cell number. No, that was too desperate. She examined it closer. Det. Adam Corey, it said. Corey. That was familiar. Why was it familiar?
After some time, Morgan gave up and went outside and started working on her crazy chandelier idea.
Outside, she still smelled the scent of the detective. This is nuts, she thought as she twisted rope around the curly willow along with strings of colored orange and purple lights.
Adam wasn’t coming.
She guessed maybe the explanation for today was not that someone was working against her, but that she and Mother Nature were not as in sync as she thought they were. Hank’s healing happened because her magic wasn’t strong. Adam’s essence wasn’t there, actually—it was just wishful thinking.
After working on her chandelier for a couple of hours, she decided it was completely bizarre and twisted and kind of frightening. It was absolute perfection.
There was still more work to do, and she still didn’t know how she was going to hang it over the long banquet table. But she did manage to cover all the chairs and hang the take-home wreaths. Fern was busy doing the baking and make-ahead sauces for the feast. There would be about 50 guests in attendance at dusk tomorrow, a $50-per-plate affair that would raise money for the upkeep of the museum buildings.
Following the feast, the general public would be invited up to Colony Hill for a ceremonial bonfire, a cash bar and live local music. At midnight, at the beginning of the lunar eclipse, the plan was to hand out torches to all the festival goers and have them light the torches on the bonfire under the blood moon. The idea was that they would take the fire home as a symbol of community; all the home hearths would be warmed by friendship.
That’s why the city leaders had moved the official trick or treating to tonight, October 30, to stretch out the festivities over as many days as possible.
As her jobs for the Samhain festival were mostly completed, Morgan put on her costume for the trick or treat event. She had decided on a stereotypical sexy witch: high-heel boots, fishnets, a red satin lace-up bodice dress with a poofy skirt and, of course, the cape, pointed hat, and painted-on moles. Yes, it was a stereotype, but considering who she was, she decided it was perfectly meta. Even if nobody else got the joke, she appreciated it. She gathered up her homemade chocolate peanut butter cups, packaged in biodegradable treat bags, and decided to take her car back into town. She didn’t often fire up the old Volvo just to go to town, but she was tired, and it would be very dark coming back that night.
Later, she joined Alice and the other available Sisters at Kava to delegate responsibilities for the evening. There were about 20 local elite families who had made a substantial donation to the historical society in exchange for letting the Sisters supervise their children for the evening.
The Sisters were stretched thin, with a few of them having remained up at Colony Hill preparing for tomorrow. Alice, in a Princess Leia costume, looked drawn and as if she hadn’t eaten since that morning’s incident.
Morgan stood on the sidewalk and looked around as the children’s costume parade began. What to do? Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. The
re were cops and firefighters lining the street. Specifically, there was Detective Adam Corey, shaved, showered and wearing his police dress blues. Oh. My. Goddess.
Not taking her eyes off him, she said, “Not to worry ladies. I have a plan.”
14
Adam
When the children’s parade ended and trick-or-treating was set to begin, Adam had planned to walk the streets alone to keep an eye on the Church of the Messenger. Instead, he was grabbed under the arm and physically recruited by a very bossy woman to keep an eye on some kids.
He didn’t argue too much, since that very bossy woman was wearing fishnets and a cape and hair pulled up in a loose knot, with wild tendrils framing a stunning face that belonged to Morgan Hibbins. As she walked, he got a peek at the costume under the flowing cape. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a seriously fucking hot corset-type outfit under there.
If that wasn’t enough of a turn-on, watching Morgan take charge just about brought him to his knees.
“OK, ladies,” she said. “This is Detective Corey. He’s going to help us out tonight since we’re spread a little thin. The plan was for us to leave Kava open to pass out coffee and cider, but that doesn’t leave us with enough adults to watch these kids and pass out candy. Let’s keep Kava closed. Alice, you stay here out front to pass out candy, and the rest of us and Adam, I mean Detective Corey, will help with the kids. If we get just one officer, that will leave us with a ratio of four kids per one adult, which is what we guaranteed for this fundraiser. Does everyone agree?”
The younger witches agreed and in seconds, each witch plus Adam had a group of four little rug rats to escort through downtown. There really wasn’t any point in protesting this plan. Besides, he could keep an eye on any potential moves by the Church of the Messenger, as all of its followers were out and about tonight, passing out tracts advertising free apple cider on Main Street.
Adam got down to the level of the kids and smiled and introduced himself. He committed all their names and costumes and ages to memory. Alex, six (a ninja wearing a turtle shell), Taylor, five (Elsa, whoever that was. Blue dress), Renee, nine (Serena Williams) and Sophie, four (Yoda). Yikes. Sophie was a little, delicate one who could easily get lost in the crush of people. He very much wanted to stay close to Morgan, but he had enough other things to concentrate on at the moment, and he couldn’t let himself get distracted and lose a kid. Little Sophie agreed to be carried, and they were on their way.
Honestly, he wouldn’t have cared about bonus points with sexy Morgan; if asked ahead of time, he would have said yes to helping with the kids in a heartbeat.
Over the next hour, Adam and his group did their part in cleaning out candy and treats from dozens of downtown businesses and residents. So far, he had lost nobody, and there didn’t seem to be any overly obnoxious behavior on the part of the Church of the Messenger. Adam wouldn’t let his guard down, however. So, as he and his little crew shuffled their way back to the starting point, he purposely diverted them away from the kiosk where the Church people were handing out cups of free hot cider.
Little Sophie, still in his arms, whimpered and pointed to the kiosk. “Oh, but I want apple juice.”
Adam thought quickly. “Uh…you know what? It’s really hot, maybe later when it cools off we can have some. I wouldn’t want you to burn your mouth.”
She pouted but replied “OK.” He returned the children to Kava, where their parents were waiting inside to greet them.
After the hand-offs, making sure each kid was with their actual parents, Adam turned and bumped right into Morgan in the crush of people in the street. She was smirking at him in a way that he didn’t know how to interpret.
“What?”
She just smiled and said, “Thank you.”
“Not a problem. Anything for the kids.”
“That was so sweet, I almost stopped getting grossed out by kids for a moment.”
He wasn’t sure how to take that. Who doesn’t like kids? “Well, I wouldn’t want you to be grossed out by kids.”
“Oh really? Why not?” God help him, she was almost pressed against him as passersby crushed around them and bumped them into each other.
This was not the time or place to have this conversation. He really needed to get back to watching those creepy cult people outside. He still had a bad feeling.
But when he looked down at Morgan and saw her cleavage slightly peeking out of the slit in the cape, he had a stronger feeling…in his pants. With her hair up like that, and that strange, sexy bodice, she was causing some kind of déjà vu. Not just from his dream last night or in his office that morning. An older memory…a much, much older memory. It made no sense.
Very few things had made sense in the last 24 hours. He dismissed this as brain fog due to lack of sleep and extreme horniness brought on by this insanely sexy woman.
“Ah…no particular reason. Listen, I gotta go…. I need to wrap some things up and get some rest.”
She looked a little disappointed, which tore at his heart more than a little. “Oh. OK. Well, will I see you at the Samhain feast tomorrow? I think there will be more than enough food, and we can let you slide by without the $50 donation since you just provided a free public service.”
Adam had to break eye contact with her. It killed him, but he had to get out of her thrall and get to work. “Sure…. I mean, maybe. I mean…. I’ll see. I’m not super comfortable crashing a fancy fundraiser, but you have my card. Let me know if you have any cancellations.”
He stared across the street. People were lining up for the Church’s hot cider. So far, if anyone had bailed Hank out of jail, he must have been laying low. Adam turned his attention back to Morgan to say good night, but she was gone.
Damn.
15
Morgan
What a jerk. Who was he to brush her off like that when she was talking to him? What was he doing, was he looking at some other sexy witch costume? Was he pretending to not be interested?
Ugh. All this human contact was messing with her head. She should definitely stick to vision sex like last night.
No strings. No attachment. Attachment gets people in trouble.
Morgan walked to the parking lot and tried to clear her mind of what had just happened. She sat in her Volvo for about 20 minutes just trying to figure this guy out. He had been kind enough to help with the kids. Granted, she’d been kind of bossy about it. Kids were not her favorite part of Halloween, but she took charge just to get through it. He could have said no, that he was too busy working security or something.
But man, did he look hot in that uniform. And carrying around that teeny tiny girl in the Yoda costume? Come on. That was just too much.
Morgan once again had that dumb smile on her face, despite herself. She slid the key in the lock of the ancient Volvo and thought she may have to rethink her stance on kids. Because Adam surrounded by adoring kids was kind of making her ovulate at the moment.
Driving east on the highway toward home, she couldn’t fight this insanely horny feeling. She floored the gas pedal, and whispered a prayer to all the deer and other woodland creatures to stay the hell off the road.
A minute later, she heard the siren. Looking in her rearview mirror, she saw a Jeep Cherokee with its headlights flashing. It had no light bar on the roof. An unmarked car. Fuck that. That’s exactly how women got kidnapped, wasn’t it? Pulling over for someone impersonating an officer.
She kept on driving until she heard a voice over loudspeaker. “This is the police. Pull your vehicle over!”
That voice. It was Adam. Shit.
Was he serious? This whole thing was preposterous. Or…was it a ploy on his part? She pulled over and watched him approach in the side mirror. He had a swagger. Did he know he had a swagger?
“License and registration please.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“Well, you are wearing a Halloween costume.”
/> He looked down. “No, this is my dress uniform.”
“Oh, I thought you were dressed like that because you want to be a chief when you grow up.”
It was dark, and she couldn’t see the reaction on his face, especially with the flashlight beaming down on her. He muttered something and then asked again for her license and registration.
Morgan sighed. She looked down and saw where the light was pointing, right at her chest. So she did the only practical thing and untied her cape so he could see her cleavage.
She looked up and smiled. “Can I take this opportunity to thank you again for your help tonight?”
16
Adam
This mysterious woman had him completely lost. After she took off from the trick or treat event, he skulked around Main Street and was immediately bored by the non-event. The Church zealots really did seem to be harmless after all. They were passing out cider, which must have been good, because just about everyone in town was carrying a cup of it. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
After a few minutes, Chief Brady came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, you’ve been working off the clock all day. Time for you to go home. You’re going to get me in trouble with the union.”
Adam couldn’t argue with that. “Thanks, Chief.”
The chief replied, “Or you could go take care of other business.”
“Sir?”
“Son, see to it you don’t bring your girlfriends to the office anymore. I destroyed that video. This time. But I don’t want to have to explain shit like that to the citizens review board. Got it?”
Oh shit. He’d completely forgotten about the tape.
“Thanks, Chief.”
He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw the chief wink conspiratorially as he turned to leave.
As Adam headed back to his car, he saw Morgan driving away. Fine. Let her drive away. He needed to go home and sleep.