Eastwind Witches Volume 1: Books 1-3: Paranormal Cozy Mystery

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Eastwind Witches Volume 1: Books 1-3: Paranormal Cozy Mystery Page 34

by Nova Nelson


  “Yet again, I’m in awe of your ability to instill confidence in your pupil,” I said. “So what do you recommend I do?”

  “Speaking with the East Wind witch would be my recommendation, too. I assume someone else came up with that idea for you.”

  I resented her assumption that I couldn’t come up with good ideas myself, but also, she was right.

  “Ansel suggested it.”

  She perked up, surprised. “Oh yeah? And how many Coven-trained witches did you ask before a werebear had to be the one to talk sense?” She sighed exasperatedly. “Don’t answer that. It’ll only depress me.”

  I wasn’t in love with the tea-deprived version of Ruby.

  Grim, on the other hand, wagged his tail lethargically with each of her pointed jabs, slapping the creaky floorboards.

  “Anywho, Ansel’s right. You’ll need to combine elemental forces with the hydromancer. There’s a connection ritual you can do that will combine both your magics.”

  “A connection ritual?” With Donovan?

  Maybe, with time, I could learn to love this new cranky version of Ruby. It would be easier than whatever she was suggesting, I was certain.

  “That sounds like more intimacy than I care to have with Donovan Stringfellow.”

  “Donovan Stringfellow?” Ruby said, blinking rapidly. “That’s the hydromancer you’re going to see?” She whistled low. “If I were thirty years younger—heck, maybe just five years younger—I would conjure an evil entity solely to have an excuse to combine magic with that young man.”

  “Ew. Too far. Also, he hates me, so I can’t imagine him agreeing to something that sounds almost as intimate as sex.”

  “Nora, dear, combining magic is vastly more intimate than sex. You’ll know when you try it.”

  I served her up a heaping plate of side eye. “You’re really not selling this for me.”

  “The Stringfellows are powerful witches, Nora. If you want to contain this dark force, Donovan’s a good bet. I once combined powers with his grandfather, Haverford Stringfellow. An aeromancer, that one. We managed to stop a siege of undead pixies, if I do recall.”

  “Noted. And I’m gonna need to hear that full story later, but for now, I feel like we should have the equivalent of a birds-and-bees talk for combining magic.”

  “It’s not that hard. It comes naturally to you. When two witches want to control a powerful force, they simply join hands recite a few incantations around a cauldron, and the magics blend. It’s a mini version of being part of a circle.”

  “What’s a circle? Is that like, um”—I hesitated but couldn’t think of a better comparison—“group sex?”

  “Usually less satisfying. But sure, the simile holds well enough.”

  “Are you part of a circle?” I tried not to think about it.

  She waved that away. “Hellhound, no. The Coven practically begged me to join so that they could have their first complete circle in over a century, but I wouldn’t give them the pleasure.”

  “What do you mean, first complete circle?”

  “The term ‘circle’ is used loosely. It’s actually a pentagram. Each point of the star represents one of the core elements—earth, air, water, fire—plus the one that runs through them all, the spirit. A complete circle contains one of each type of wind—the aeromancers of the North Wind, whose powers are strongest in the winter; the pyromancers of the South Wind, whose powers are strongest in the summer; the terramancers of the West Wind, strongest in the autumn; the hydromancers of the East Wind, who named this town and are at their magical peak in the spring. And, of course, the necromancers of the Fifth Wind who are miserable year round.

  “Since you and I are the only Fifth Wind witches in recent memory, the Coven has been forced to form incomplete circles. They still work for most things, but a circle that harnesses all the winds could easily rule the Coven and, by extension, Eastwind. That was a power I had no desire to impart upon any of the circles currently in play back when the Coven was courting me so relentlessly.”

  “Now I feel kind of lousy that the Coven hasn’t approached me to join.”

  Ruby chuckled dryly. “Don’t take it too hard. I’m sure they’re aware of your presence in town, and the fact that they haven’t started knocking on our door every day likely means they want you so badly, they’re afraid to scare you off. And it makes sense.”

  “What makes sense?”

  She paused, and her hesitation weighed heavy in the air. “You’re more powerful than you know, Nora. You’ve only just begun to discover it, but if your accidental channeling was any indication, you have many more surprises on the way. Speaking of which, are you still wearing that amulet?”

  I pulled it by the chain out from underneath my boat-neck tee, revealing the staurolite cross.

  “And you’re recharging it daily?”

  “Just like you showed me.”

  “Good. You’ll want to make sure you stay on that until you’re sure this dark entity is gone.”

  I tucked it away again. “Oliver insists I register with the Coven. What do you think?”

  “Oh sure, why not?”

  I paused. “Um, that’s what I’m asking you. You don’t have the highest opinion of them.”

  “Be that as it may, I don’t think they can, or would, do anything to you. You’re valuable to them, even if they haven’t started badgering you yet. Register or don’t. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Will they ask me to join a circle?”

  “I assume so.”

  “And then what do I say?”

  “Whatever the fang you want!” Ruby groaned. “It’s like you’re backsliding in our training. Listen to your Insight and do what it tells you.”

  “Right, right. Geez. Cranky. Oliver also says I need to take lessons from the Coven.”

  “Oh, well that’s a load of unicorn swirls. You don’t need your Insight to tell you that.”

  “He was adamant that he tutor me.”

  Ruby thought about it, her gaze drifting up to the baubles hanging from the ceiling. Every so often one would start moving out of nowhere, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to that. I supposed it meant they were working, guarding us from whatever strange entities were causing them to sway.

  Or that’s what I told myself to be able to sleep at night. As far as white lies went, it seemed like a keeper.

  “Oliver Bridgewater, right?” she said, finally.

  “Yes. He’s currently Zoe Clementine’s tutor.”

  She tapped a wrinkled finger to her lips. “It might not hurt for you to have a few lessons from him. If it keeps the Coven out of our hair, we can work our schedule around it. I hate teaching the basic lessons anyway—protection spells, levitation, healing potions. All a bore. He could take over those, and I can stick with the good stuff. Then I have more time for my reading. After all, I’m retired.”

  She grabbed her book again and flipped it open.

  In her mind at least, the matter was clearly settled, a plan in place. Nothing more to consider.

  Easy for her to believe. She wasn’t the one that would have to swap magic with Donovan the next day.

  Chapter Seven

  I knocked on the bright blue front door and waited, heart pounding in my chest. The house was two blocks outside the cluster of buildings surrounding Fulcrum Park, but because it was only six thirty in the morning, the street was silent except for the trickle of the water garden in the front yard. I would have preferred to sleep in on my day off work, but I knew it was best for everyone if Grim and I made it out the door before Ruby awoke and remembered that she was unable to brew her own tea.

  I thought about knocking again. What if he didn’t answer? That would be just like Donovan to leave me waiting on his doorstep, to agree to meet with me and then be nowhere around when the time came.

  “Maybe he’s dead,” Grim suggested from beside me.

  “Don’t get my hopes up.”

  “I don’t know why that would. You kn
ow as well as I do that death isn’t always the end of the story. Some of us can’t catch a break.”

  The door swung open, and Donovan stared impassively at me before his eyes traveled down to my feet and back up to my head like he was scanning for all the bits about me he could detest.

  Appearance-wise, he was not at his peak. His dark hair, which was usually well-styled, short but swept back and to the side hadn’t gotten any attention. His white T-shirt was wrinkled and twisted, suggesting he’d slept in it. His jeans lacked a belt and sagged, showing the top elastic of his briefs and a sliver of his olive skin just above that.

  “You’re a morning person, aren’t you?” he said distastefully.

  “Not by choice. But I am an adult, so I learned how to pull it together before noon.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I work late. Not everyone has the luxury of getting off work at three p.m. to run around town, solving everyone’s problems and becoming Eastwind’s favorite death witch.”

  “Aww,” I said. “Thanks. It’s good to be loved.” I pushed past him and into his dark house, and Grim followed a step behind me.

  “Not sure Gustav’s going to like having a dog inside.”

  “Gustav? Is that your familiar?”

  “Obviously.”

  “Well, Gustav doesn’t have to worry, because Grim isn’t a dog. He’s a grim.”

  Donovan shut the door behind me. “You really went all out with the creative naming.”

  “It’s a gift,” I said, looking around. Donovan’s home spoke of a deep passion for interior decorating. The fact that he was particular about his environment didn’t surprise me. His talent did, though.

  The vibe wasn’t unlike that of Atlantis Day Spa, with candles floating in midair, and the peaceful trickle of flowing water echoing somewhere in the background. An aquarium served as one of the walls in the living room, and a candelabra behind it cast watery reflections throughout the space.

  “There’s no way this guy is straight,” said Grim.

  “Easy on the stereotypes.”

  “You saying I’m wrong?”

  “I’m just reserving judgment.”

  To be fair, Grim raised an interesting point, and my mind jumped back to Donovan’s comment when he caught Tanner and I kissing, the one about how Tanner could do so much better. Was he referring to himself as the better option?

  Wow. That actually made a lot of sense. Not that it mattered one way or another, but maybe Donovan was gay. Huh.

  “Tea?” he asked. “Or are you the kind to want a stiff drink first thing in the morning?”

  “Do I seem like that type to you?”

  He pooched out his lips, thinking way too hard about it, in my opinion. “Nah. You’re too tightly wound to be someone who starts her day with a shot. I’ll brew some tea.”

  As he shuffled into the other room, I tried not to fixate on his comment about me being tightly wound.

  After all, I wasn’t. Not even a little bit. Was I? No. I was totally relaxed. If anyone was tightly wound, it was him.

  His living room lacked traditional furniture. Instead, he’d placed cushions on the ground around a low stone table, at the center of which water bubbled from a small crater. Grim flopped down in the darkest corner he could find.

  Dang. Donovan didn’t take this East Wind witch thing lightly. Maybe I had come to the right place for help, despite my personal issues with him.

  I ran my finger through the mini fountain in the table, just to make sure it was real. Every so often things I took for granted in Eastwind would turn out to be magical illusions, and I’d developed a habit of checking whenever possible. Not only was the water real, but it was warm and soothing, sending relaxation through my arm and into my shoulder.

  I’d experienced that only once before. Again, at Atlantis Day Spa. Right before Frankie the Nix tried to drown me.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised that Donovan’s entire house was a trigger for me to relive some of my worst moments. Maybe next he would turn on some Xana choral music and ask me to go for a drive at night through Nowhere, Texas.

  Emerging from the kitchen, he carried a bamboo tray with a teapot and two tiny cups covered in ornate hand-painted cherry blossoms that added a tally mark in the “probably gay” column of the mental score card I was now keeping. A charcoal gray cat with raised and pointed ears followed at his heels and arched its back when Grim lifted his head in the corner to get a sniff. “Easy, Gustav,” Donovan said, setting the tray on the low table before easing down onto a cushion opposite mine.

  He poured two cups but made me reach rather than handing it to me. I stared down at it. This was definitely not the same type of tea Ruby brewed on a daily basis. I couldn’t tell the color in the dim lighting and with the black ceramic cup, but judging by the smell, I guessed it was a green tea.

  “It’s not poison,” he said, sipping his. “Tanner would kill me if I poisoned you.”

  “I’m going to pretend that’s not the only reason you wouldn’t poison me.” I sipped the tea, and it was actually delightful. Lighter than I would’ve preferred this early in the day, but the taste was much less bitter than what Ruby brewed … back when she could keep water in the kettle.

  “Tanner filled me in a little bit,” he said, “but he left out some key details. Most importantly, how did the entity get into your house?”

  His intense stare penetrated me, and I knew that he probably had a pretty good idea of how the entity made it in. So I decided to come clean. He already thought I was a tightly wound idiot. Might as well speed up the process here so I could move on with my day. “I let it in. It knocked three times, and I was preoccupied with something else, and opened the door.”

  “Scratch multitasking off your list of possible skills.”

  “I get it. You think I’m worthless. Can we move on?”

  He blinked, his head jerking minutely to the side. “I don’t think that.”

  “You just imply it. All the time. Moving on.”

  He sighed and set down his cup. “I think the best bet is to perform a clarity ritual. If it works.”

  “Why wouldn’t it work?”

  “Have you ever done a clarity ritual?”

  “No.”

  “Do you even know what a clarity ritual is?”

  “Not exactly, but I—”

  “That’s why it might not work.”

  I threw back the rest of my tea and set the empty cup on the table a little harder than necessary. “Okay, you win.”

  “I’m just saying, you might have magic in you, but using magic is a skill to be learned. And since you haven’t bothered to get any proper training—”

  “Ruby’s been tutoring me.”

  “Yeah, I said proper training. I just don’t have high expectations for this.”

  “Then let’s hope confidence isn’t essential for this to work.”

  He scooted over to the cushion next to mine. “I’m the leader, here, okay?”

  I opened my eyes wide and nodded emphatically. “Yes, sir.” I could tell it got under his skin by the minute flair of his nostrils.

  “A clarity ritual, if not totally botched by an unskilled and obstinate witch, will open up a window to the timeless, meaning we can see things in any time and any space.”

  “That seems intense.”

  “It is. I absolutely should not be doing it with you, and if you tell anyone I did, I’ll deny it to the grave. That being said, it’s the most direct path to learning what we need to get this entity out of Eastwind and back to wherever it came from, and therefore it’s the quickest way to get you out of my house so I can go back to bed. And again, this is assuming it works at all.”

  “Okay, great. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “Never ask that.” He shut his eyes and ran his hands through the water at the center of the table, rubbing it around until his skin glistened. “Soak your hands,” he said, and I did without any further questions.

  Did I trust Donova
n?

  Duh, no.

  But we had a shared goal of figuring out what I’d let into Ruby True’s apartment, and sometimes a shared goal was the best one could hope for in an ally.

  “Don’t you need your wand or something?” I asked.

  He glared at me. “No. Not for this. Stop asking questions. Now hold my hands.” He held his out to me.

  “Wait, is this … a connection ritual?” I remembered what Ruby had said about it being more intimate than sex.

  “I said no more questions, but yes.”

  My heart jumped into my throat.

  He exhaled, dropped his hands before I could grab them, and said, “For fang’s sake, Nora. I can feel the tension coming off you from here. It won’t work unless you relax.”

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  He cocked his head to the side, examining me. “Hold on. You’ve heard about the connection ritual?”

  I nodded.

  “Ah. So you know it’s a little … intense.”

  “Intimate was the word Ruby used.”

  A sly grin bloomed on his face before he tucked it away again. “That’s a good word for it.”

  “Is this going to be … weird?”

  “Oh yeah. Tanner wasn’t happy about it.”

  “Then once it’s done, can we never speak of it again?” I asked.

  “That’s the plan.” He wet his hands again and I did the same. And this time, when he held out his hands, I grabbed them, feeling the relaxing warmth of the water between our skin, and shut my eyes.

  Donovan began murmuring in a deep drone. I didn’t know this language, but it felt familiar. It also sounded not unlike the one Ruby had used to send the dark entity from her home.

  So, yeah, I could benefit from a little formal schooling in the witchcraft department.

  I let my mind settle into the present, calling upon the meditation techniques I’d learned in my past life.

  And … nothing.

  “It feels like there’s something blocking your energy,” he said.

 

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