Witch's Moon: A Celia Winters Novel Book 1

by D. L. Harrison

  Witch’s Moon

  A Celia Winters Novel (Book 1)

  Author: D. L. Harrison

  Copyright 2015. This is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, Places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Afterword:

  About the Author

  Other books by D. L. Harrison:

  Book Description

  Chapter 1

  Celia Winters jumped and closed her eyes tightly as the thunder boomed outside. She blew out a nervous breath and took a look around at the mess. There were packing materials and boxes strewn across the table. She quickly packed the last order in bubble wrap, taped up the box and weighed it before printing out a delivery sticker.

  There was a loud noise as someone banged on the back door and Celia jumped. She wasn’t usually a jumpy person; it was just that she had a splitting headache. She’d been getting them more and more every day the last couple of weeks. Earlier she’d made herself an herbal remedy, and then used it to chase down two ibuprofen. She’d fallen asleep at the front counter and now she was running late getting the days orders ready for shipment.

  The back door banged again as she ripped the sticker off the printer and slapped it onto the box. She ran to the door before he gave up. She hit the crash bar and a cool wind and rain blew into her face as she let him in.

  Celia said while holding her head, “Sorry about that, it’s a nightmare out there.”

  The UPS man grunted a reply and started to gather up the ten packages she had ready. For a split second she felt like smacking him and the pain in her head doubled. She froze for a moment covering her eyes with her hands until both the extra pain and the anger faded. It wasn’t like her to overreact like that to such a small slight, and she was starting to worry there could be something seriously wrong with her.

  She’d been getting angry a lot lately over stupid things, and then there were the dreams…

  She took her hands off her face and looked up. The UPS man was frowning at her, and actually looked concerned, although he didn’t bother to voice it. She didn’t imagine he was having a great day either, not with that storm. She tried to smile politely but probably failed as he backed into the door holding the packages, and disappeared into the rainy gloom outside.

  She shivered from her damp arms and shirt as she walked back out to the storefront and sat behind the register. There were a couple of high school kids in the aisles, otherwise the store was empty. She shut her eyes for a moment; the pain wasn’t quite as bad that way. If the headaches didn’t stop she’d have to see a doctor, even though she couldn’t really afford it.

  She groaned internally, what kind of witch needed to see a doctor anyway?

  Ever since her mother died last month, the headaches had steadily gotten worse. At first she thought it was simply from being overwrought, but as the shock started to wear off, and she got started trying to live life again, the headaches only got worse, especially when she was in the store.

  The weather was odd for this time of year too. It was mid May, and in Rock Hill it usually didn’t rain every day, yet she couldn’t remember seeing the sun at all this week.

  Celia really wasn’t a very strong witch, but at twenty eight had come to accept that a long time ago. If someone needed a headache remedy, excluding herself apparently, or a candle lit without matches, a zephyr breeze, or perhaps a salve to heal a cut twice as fast, she was fully qualified. She was also a certified midwife.

  Witches still used midwives because most witches were not that weak. Even as early as during birth a witch could cause problems such as burning out electronic equipment, or setting a fire, and expose the supernatural world, which really was the only rule there was, never let a normal see.

  That’s why she took over the shop and never considered doing anything else, she was too weak to even bother trying to join a coven, although she had been asked before and turned it down, there was no point in her mind to even bother. The name of the shop creatively enough was The Magic Shoppe, spelled the old fashioned way. The front of the store held various knick knacks, crystals, tarot cards, and other stuff the mortals saw as fake.

  Well, they were right about that.

  The back is where she made the real money with rare herbs, gems, and other magical baubles the supernatural community would buy. It was quite lucrative, unlike the front of the store, and it was a niche in life Celia felt comfortable in. She sold to other witches, and of course helped to birth their children.

  But things had been hard since her mother died; she had very little patience, and was always snapping at the little things that she used to just brush off with a smile. The strangest part is the headaches seemed to be at their worst in the store, the place she had loved to be the most before the tragedy. She considered locking up early and looked at the two teen girls. Wishes weren’t magic however and they didn’t leave the store.

  She barely suppressed an eye roll; they were looking at a love spell potion book that at worst would give their unsuspecting target a stomach ache.

  She jumped slightly in her chair as the thunder cracked and then rolled above her. She didn’t used to be so jumpy and it bothered her. She pasted a smile on her face as the two girls came up to the counter with a few candles and a book that would amount to a little harmless fun, and most likely a lot of naughty giggling. She rung the stuff up and bagged it, then escorted them to the door. She locked the door behind them and turned over the open sign.

  She glanced at the clock guiltily, it was just after seven and she was supposed to be open until nine. She’d had enough though, and moved into the back to pop off the lights and set the alarm. She dragged herself down the back hallway and opened the door to her apartment over the store. As soon as she went up the stairs, her headache cut in half, which doubled her confusion. What in the hell could be in the store that was hurting her head that badly?

  She had gone over her inventory multiple times, no new products or smells; it was all the same stuff as always. She couldn’t figure it out and decided it was just in her head. She ate as much as she could for dinner which wasn’t much at all. Then she swallowed another dose of the headache medicine she had brewed this morning and went to lay down for a while. She was too tired and hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Never mind it was only eight thirty, she was for the bed.

  She lay there for a while when the sharp pain of loss tore at her chest and tears filled her eyes. This pain although it felt physical was emotional in nature. It had been close to a month, but it wasn’t uncommon for her to break down at random times in the day, as she wished her mother was still here. She finally fell asleep to the light patter of rain against the window after she cried herself out.

  Chapter 2

  Run!

  She felt herself hurtle forward through the trees. Her heart was beating quickly and
the fear caused a lump in her throat. She had to escape. She wasn’t sure what was chasing her, or what she was running from, she just knew if she didn’t run she would die. No, not die, something much worse. She heard a noise behind her, something was catching up. Her breathing grew ragged and panicked as she heard a growl and something slammed into her back, pushing her to the forest floor.

  She screamed as she sat upright in bed. She was covered in sweat, her night clothes stuck unpleasantly to her body. Her heart thrummed in her chest and her breath was too fast. She put her head between her knees and tried to take slow deep breaths. When her body calmed down she looked at the clock to see it was almost two AM.

  “Crap,” she muttered.

  She didn’t even try to get back to sleep; she never could after one of her dreams. They had started to plague her nights just a couple of weeks ago. She sighed heavily and got out of the bed. At least she had gotten a few hours sleep before the dream last night. She stopped in the kitchen and brewed some coffee on the way to the shower.

  She was startled to realize her headache was almost gone, the best it had been in days, just a low throbbing at her temples. The shower felt cleansing as the sweat and smell of fear was washed away from her body. She had about six hours before she needed to be down in the store so she just put on a robe and went to her altar room.

  She almost startled herself as the candles around the room lit for her almost effortlessly with a thought, and she knelt down. She had no ritual or spell in mind, she simply tried to spend some time just meditating on the goddess to clear her mind of all the baggage of the last month. She tried to rise above it all and find her center, where the small spark of magic existed within her. She may have been weak in power, but she had developed what she had as far as she could.

  She had mastered meditation techniques in her early teens and by the time she had graduated high school she had learned the limits of her power and how to make the best of it. The death of her mother who she knew was in a better place, the headaches, the dreams, she cleared her mind of all of it.

  Or she tried too.

  She suppressed a scream of frustration as anger filled her mind; even this comfort would be denied her? She couldn’t focus, everything was a distraction, and even the small pulses of pain in her temple brought on enough irritation to lose her focus. The headache seemed to be amplifying everything around her. The scent of her shampoo was too sharp, the sound of the coffee pot found her from the kitchen, and even her breathing seemed annoyingly loud.

  She jumped to her feet in frustration, and as if they were afraid of her glare the candles spluttered and died as she turned and walked out into the kitchen to grab a coffee.

  “Right,” she whispered sarcastically to herself, “Because caffeine is what I need.”

  Not willing to give up her one vice, she poured a cup, added some sugar and some cream and sat on the couch. She stared out the window for a while, barely noticing that the rain had finally let up, for now at least. She had a bad feeling, and was used to following them. But without her mother she really didn’t have anyone she felt comfortable talking to about it.

  Her dreams, the headaches, her mother and the feeling something was coming all felt related to her, but she couldn’t imagine how it all fit together. She couldn’t even meditate on it, not until whatever this was passed. Not for the first time she wondered if she could be losing her mind. Tired of her thoughts going in circles she popped on the TV, fully intending to vegetate until it was time to open the store…

  She woke up with a gasp as sharp claws dug into her legs. At first she was panicked, thinking herself in another dream, but she quickly calmed and then smiled down at her cat Moonlight as he purred and kneaded through her robe. He was almost pure black, except for a round patch of white hair on his chest. She was surprised she had fallen asleep, last she remembered it was about six in the morning.

  She got up and fed Moonlight and went into her room to get dressed for the day. She put on a jeans and a dark t-shirt that said ‘Wiccans do it under the full moon.’ She laughed at how much her mother hated that shirt, then shook her head and suppressed the fresh wave of grief. She looked at the clock and held in the curse that was poised on the tip of her tongue. It was ten to nine in the morning, she was fifty minutes late.

  She ran down the stairs and opened the door, walking down the hallway into the store was like hitting her head against a brick wall, but she gritted her teeth and kept going. She really did need to figure out what was going on there.

  She walked into a lit room and stopped in surprise. Then she cautiously walked out front. There were a couple of people in the store, one in the aisles who she assumed was a customer. The second grinned at her cheekily from behind the counter.

  “Hi Celia,” she said in an upbeat voice while shooting me a cute smile.

  Celia smiled back despite herself, “Morning Berny, what brings you out here?”

  Bernadette was the second youngest in the coven closest to the store, right here in Rock Hill in fact. She’d just graduated high school last week and had been trying to talk Celia into hiring her. She was just eighteen, and she was always upbeat. She was pretty, but not high maintenance as she wore hardly any makeup, had her long blonde hair up in a ponytail, and her natural powers as a witch were very strong.

  Celia considered the idea again; with her mother gone the store really did need help. Although Berny didn’t know as much about poultices, potions, and herb lore as she did, the girl seemed more than willing to learn.

  Berny replied, “I just came to pick up some things for the full moon celebration in a couple of days. I’m pretty sure Fran called in the order yesterday?”

  Fran was the head of Berny’s coven, an older woman who’d been close friends with Celia’s mother, and the one that had been offering Celia a position in the coven despite her lack of power to add to the group.

  Celia had been tempted to join but would have felt like a fraud not being able to add to their power more than fractionally compared to the rest. It felt like it would be a position given out of pity. She could, and would still maintain a friendship with the coven, just not as a part of it.

  Celia groaned remembering Fran had called it in yesterday. She had planned to put it together after closing last night, but had forgotten.

  Berny continued, “Anyway, when I got here a little after eight the store was closed so I used my…” her eyes flitted over to the customer and back, “key to get in. I wanted to make sure everything was okay, and I thought maybe you could use the help.”

  Celia suppressed a smile.

  Berny’s gifts were telekinesis and control over the element of earth, the second of which was great for growing things. Most witches had two to three natural gifts in addition to the ability to cast spells, and add magic to the herbs while making potions and poultices.

  It was obvious to Celia that she’d used telekinesis to pick the lock in the front of the store.

  The customer started for the counter and Celia muttered, “I’ll gather that order, would you mind?”

  Berny smiled and shook her head.

  Celia blew out a breath and her lips twitched as she gathered the listed supplies. It didn’t take long at all and she was back up front to find the store was now empty except for the two of them.

  Celia asked, “So, do you still want that job?”

  She almost winced at the desperation in her voice. She really did need to pull herself together. It was just hard to do that when she couldn’t even think right through the pain and other emotions.

  Berny blurted, “Yes! That would be so great.”

  The front door opened and they both looked toward the door, a large man walked through. He had to be six foot five and had extremely wide shoulders and the muscles in his arms were large and highly defined. He had to be close to forty five years old or so.

  Celia observed his eyes tighten and his nostrils flare and knew right away they were dealing with a shifter of some kind a
nd automatically upped his age to the eighties. She felt a little nervous and very surprised he was in her store. The spell that kept shifters out must be fading, or he wouldn’t have made it in the door without intense physical discomfort. One more thing she had let run down after her mother passed.

  Shifters and witches didn’t get along too well. The first nineteen years of Celia’s life, and for five years before that, there had been a witch and shifter war. The war had gotten so bad toward the end that both groups had called a ceasefire and had come up with a tentative treaty. Not that they agreed on anything, except maybe that if they kept on killing each other both witches and shifters might die out.

  Luckily the other supernatural races never took an interest in taking sides. Seeing any in this area was rare as well, mostly it was just the shifters and witches in this part of the states. The fae were in the northwest states, and in Ireland. Vampires were mostly extinct, but there was still a loner or two wandering out there. Then of course, the demons and elementals didn’t live here at all, but only evil and stupid witches had anything to do with them.

  For the last nine years following the war there’d been a wary peace. The witches stayed off the pack territories, the shifters stayed away from the witches businesses and their groves. Celia wasn’t even entirely sure what had sparked the war to begin with; it was the one thing her mother hadn’t been willing to share.

  He cleared his throat and said in a gravelly voice, “You Celia? The Witches midwife?”

  Celia frowned, “Yes. What do you want with me?”

  He cleared his throat again, maybe the spell was still active? Just… wearing down.

  “My son’s mate Kelly is in labor. Our midwife is out of town. At first we didn’t worry, but something is wrong. She’s a month early…”

  Celia held up a hand and ran in the back. Her head told her she was crazy, but her magic, or feelings, were telling her she had to go. It felt important, there was a weight to it. She picked up her midwife bag that had every potion even slightly related to childbirth, and other more scientific tools such as a blood pressure monitor and a sterile stainless steel kit with a scalpel, clamps, and medicines.