Maeve moves in next to Luna. ‘How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?’
Tara coughs again and rasps ‘water’.
‘Of course,’ Maeve hands her a glass of water, Tara has trouble getting up. Luna helps her sit up and drink some water. Tara gulps it down. ‘Slowly, don’t drink too fast.’ Panicked, Tara looks around. ‘The Dagger.’
‘What? Mom. Focus. You make no sense.’
‘Something terrible has happened.’
‘You were out for at least three hours. You frightened us. What’s wrong? We know it’s something magical, but we couldn’t find anything wrong or find any spells.’
‘It’s complicated.’
Luna rolls her eyes; here we go again. ‘We’re not stupid, Mom, I’m sure we can follow you.’
Tara ignores Luna. ‘We need to get the family together.’
Luna starts to become more irritated, if she hates something it’s a family pow-wow. ‘There’s no need to get everybody together, that’s an impossible task. You know there’s always something.’
‘We need to discuss this as a family, and I mean everybody.’ Poof. And there goes the last of Luna’s sympathy. Her mother always has a reason. Always, it would be stupid to presume she’s old and fragile, a mistake.
‘Nice try Mom, it’s not going to happen.’
Tara turns to Maeve. ‘Can you try? She’ll listen to you.’ Maeve feels sandwiched between an irritated mother and a begging Grandmother.
‘I have no contact with her either; we can take care of you Grandma. We don’t need her.’
‘Please, Maeve.’ The silence stretches. ‘You’re my only hope.’
Maeve caves. ‘I don’t think it will work. I’ve texted her and never heard anything back. But I will try. For you.’ Tara gives her an encouraging smile. ‘You’re a good girl.’
‘Come on Ma, she’s not twelve.’ Maeve leaves the room and finds her way to a balcony. She breathes in the midnight air; the smell of jasmine that covers this side of the house is intoxicating. The moon is still almost full, and she can see everything in the garden. She lets the moon fill her with power before she gets her cellphone out.
BOSTON
That same moon is shining through the bedroom window onto the pile of humans and dogs in Bridget’s bed. They’re snoring away. Bridget’s cellphone rings and everyone is awake instantly. A big dog raises his head while the little Chihuahua starts to dart around on the bed. Bridget wiggles up and grabs her phone. She takes a peek at the caller ID. ‘Hmm this is going to be interesting.’ Wes is awake, too, and watches Bridget. ‘Hello.’
‘Hi, Bridget.’ Bridget feels a pang of regret when she hears her twin’s voice.
‘Maeve, is that you?’ She stalls while she wonders whatever her sister would want from her.
‘Yes. It’s been a while— ‘
Bridget doesn’t let her finish. ‘What do you want?’
‘We have a problem.’ She can almost taste Maeve’s uncertainty about how this is going to be received. But Bridget had resisted her family all this time.
‘We? I don’t think so.’ Wes is getting more interested in the conversation and scoots upright.
‘Gram collapsed. Something is wrong.’
‘Call a doctor.’
Maeve’s disappointment is palpable when she says, ‘She’s asking you to come home.’
‘So she orders you to call me, and good old Maeve—‘
‘Stop it! You have no right to judge me.’ Bridget can’t hide her surprise; did Maeve just snap?
‘Maeve?’ But she’s done with Bridget and is on a roll now. ‘Stay where you are, I’m glad that you’re gone. Always high and mighty and so selfish.’ Maeve hangs up. Bridget is shocked. Maeve is always so compliant. What is going on? She feels Wes’ eyes on her; slowly she looks at him, daring him to say something. The little Chihuahua, Kiki, feels the tension and starts to lick Bridget’s face. Slowly, the tension in the room drops. Wes touches her face and draws her in for a kiss.
NEW ORLEANS
Maeve doesn’t get that kind of comfort. Her cheeks are bright red and she breathes heavily. It feels good to finally tell her sister what she thinks. Why didn’t she stay in touch with her? Twins should have a special bond. What did she ever do? That will teach her. Then it dawns on her that she has to tell Grandmother that she failed. She will understand, but she will feel the underlying disappointment. Shit. Well it’s too late now.
BOSTON
Bridget arrives late at a crime scene the next morning. She drinks the last of her coffee before she steps out of her car. Her car is in the exact spot where Cal was parked last night. The area swarms with police and crime scene personnel. She takes a deep breath and coughs. That’s weird; it almost feels like there’s not enough air. She shakes it off and walks towards the tape that keeps the public out. A young police officer rushes forward to stop her. Irritated, she waves her badge. ‘Sorry. It’s up the hill.’
He holds the tape up, and she makes her way up the hill slowly, and in no time, she starts breathing hard. She looks around, she’s in good shape—what’s going on? There is something terribly wrong here. She stops dead when she reaches the top of the hill. The tornado has wreaked havoc; toppled trees and debris are everywhere. In the center of it all she spots Tom next to a dead body. Careful not to disturb any evidence she makes her way to him. Without looking up he says, ‘That boyfriend is keeping you busy.’
‘I’m here aren’t I? What have we got?’ Bridget turns her full attention to the blond woman at her feet.
‘Meet Alana Jansson, thirty-six years old. She had her wallet and ID on her. No sign of a robbery. The ME estimates TOD around 11pm.’
Bridget bends a little closer. ‘Okay, I don’t see any visible wounds. What’s her cause of death?’
‘That’s where it gets interesting.’ This gets her attention as not many things surprise Tom anymore. ‘She froze to death. Instantly.’
‘Shit.’ She looks around and takes in the surroundings with new interest. ‘What’s this? A freak tornado or something?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. Nothing out of the ordinary reported in the area. Hell, I thought it was downright balmy, like 60s last night.’
‘This doesn’t feel right. The air feels thin, like it’s hard to breathe, but we’re only up, what? 300 feet? Makes no sense.’
‘None of this makes sense.’ Replies Tom frustrated.
Bridget puts on her latex gloves and kneels next to Alana’s body. Very gently, she picks up her hand, and in a second, is back on the hilltop last night, in the middle of the fight between Alana and Lucy. Although Bridget sits right between the two witches, neither of them react to her presence. Bridget looks up just in time to see a fireball hurdled at her. Automatically she throws herself backwards.
Back in real time, she falls backwards. Tom jumps up and is ready to help her up. ‘Jesus, Madigan? Are you okay?’
‘Yeah. Yes. I’m fine.’ She ignores his hand and gets back up herself. ‘I lost my balance.’
‘I can’t take my eyes off you for a minute!’ Tom jokes.
‘Piss off.’ Tom walks away laughing.
Shit, this hasn’t happened this bad in ages. She can’t completely deny that she has this tiny advantage in her work that she gets flashbacks when she touches a dead person. It’s not really using her magic, right? She can’t help it. She’s been down this narrative path a thousand times. As she can’t switch it off, she might as well use it.
It looks like her past is coming back to haunt her. Maeve’s call, now this woman is a witch. That’s too many coincidences.
Bridget looks around, Tom is talking to the coroner and others are busy. Nobody pays attention to her. Once, just this once, she’s going to use her magic to see what went on here. She gets up and walks around the body as if she’s studying it from di
fferent angles. When she passes North, she starts an incantation and walks a circle around the body, invoking every wind direction and asking them to guard her circle. When the circle is closed, she kneels down next to Alana’s body. Tom glances her way and she gives him a reassuring smile. When he has his attention on the coroner again, she leans forward as if she’s studying something on Alana’s torso, and she slowly but surely puts her hand on Alana’s chest.
Instantly she’s back at the hilltop. This time she’s better prepared and takes in the wild tornado with one of the witches locked in it, but the crazy wind makes it impossible to see who that is. She gets up and turns around. She’s invisible to the other witches and can move around without being affected by what’s going on. She stands close to Alana while she watches the ice climb up her body. Alana panics and screams. Too late. She tries to move her arm, but the ice grows quicker and quicker. Bridget feels frustrated not to be able to do something. Helpless, she watches Alana’s last desperate moments. When Alana is fully covered in ice, the tornado abruptly stops and drops the other witch unceremoniously on the ground. Bridget wants to touch Alana but thinks the better of it; a small tear makes its way down her cheek. There’s no time to linger. She turns and is shocked, an involuntary gasp escapes her as Lucy passes her. Grandma? This can’t be happening. Tara is a powerful witch, but Bridget never thought she was evil. She would have known, right? Lucy walks around Alana. She lays a hand on Alana’s back. ‘Power of the East, wind, show me your presence.’ The ice melts and Lucy’s eyes start to glow. Quickly she grabs the Dagger, but the power doesn’t want to leave her guardian that easily. There’s a loud bang when all the ice shatters, and wind emanates from Alana. Lucy gets hurtled into the air and starts to fall down the mountain.
Bridget is back in her body and breathes heavily. No, no, no, no, no! This is crazy. Her own grandmother?! Frantically she looks around, gets up and starts to walk backwards, trying to put some distance between her and what she just learned. She jumps in the air when she feels a hand on her shoulder. Quickly she turns around, ready to—oh, it’s Tom. Air leaves her lungs in a long ragged breath. ‘You’re giving me a heart attack!’ Tom raises a skeptical brow. ‘It’s crazy. This. It makes no sense.’
‘Thank you Sherlock. You’re late, you’re not focused and you’re jumpy. What’s going on?’ Panic returns, what can she say? My own grandmother did this. She must have seen it wrong. ‘I can’t breathe up here.’ She pushes past Tom and is a couple of steps downhill before Tom catches up with her. ‘What the hell was that all about?’ Bridget keeps walking. Tom grabs her arm and spins her around. ‘Stop. Look at me.’ Reluctantly, Bridget looks at Tom. He notices something has put her off balance. ‘What rattles you about this case? Is it the woman?’ Frantically Bridget tries to gather her thoughts. ‘No. Yes. She looks familiar.’
Tom pauses; for a moment Bridget is worried he doesn’t buy it. His eyes soften, ‘We’ll find who did this.’ Bridget nods in acknowledgement. Tom finally let’s go of her arm, and they make their way downhill. ‘Come on. We need to tell her family.’
Bridget looks around, no way to escape. ‘Could you…’
‘Do you know them?’ When she doesn’t respond, he offers ‘I can take Jordan.’
‘Thanks.’ Bridget is clearly shaken.
Tom looks worried. This is not her normal steadfast behavior. ‘You’re sure you’re okay?’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll see you at the station.’ Slowly, Tom turns away and Bridget can’t get in her car fast enough. There she lets the tension go and starts to tremble uncontrollably. She breathes in and out and tries to calm herself. Her inner voice keeps rambling. Stop it. It’s just another case, don’t be ridiculous. You can do it. In out in out. Slow down. Think.
NEW ORLEANS
In the meantime, the witches are waking up in the mansion in New Orleans. Maeve buzzes around the kitchen. In her element she put the kettle on and hums as she selects a little bit of this herb and a little bit of that herb. When she’s satisfied the water boils and she pours it over her herb mix. Luna enters the kitchen in her PJs, never an early riser. Maeve is surprised she’s already up. Without a word they give each other a kiss on the cheek, and Luna walks to the potion and takes a long sniff. ‘Excellent. This will support her through the day and help her heal, whatever it is what’s going on in her mind.’
‘She wants to go to the Hat today. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why do you think she wants Bridget to come home?’ Luna shrugs, ‘who knows. Who cares? I don’t care.’
‘Gram said you were very talented.’
Luna gives a startled laugh, ‘I’m not doing it. You should know better than to try to manipulate me.’
‘I’m not. I’m just worried about Gram.’
‘Stop being so freaking reasonable! It’s boring.’ Luna walks out and slams the door behind her. She might as well have slapped Maeve in the face. Maeve is speechless, it looks like she’s losing her touch.
Tara watches the news from her bed on an ancient television. A news reporter stands in the middle of a town ravaged by a tornado. ‘Pine Bluff, Arkansas got hit today by a series of brutal tornadoes. Already two people have been reported dead and it’s unclear how many are injured.’ Tara turns to Seamus’ portrait, who also watched the news. ‘I told you. Something is wrong with Air.’ Seamus shrugs. ‘The town is totally destroyed.’ The reporter continues, ‘the tornados came out of nowhere. There was no indication or even a weather pattern that suggested its coming. Like a freak storm—’
‘See! I have to try to find the others. Maybe they need help. I can’t just sit and wait.’ Tara slings her legs out of bed. Seamus is concerned. His portrait bulges and his hand reaches out, trying to touch Tara. She’s hurrying around the room looking for some clothes when her cellphone rings. ‘Voicemail can take it.’ And she focuses on gathering a wand, some incense and her spell book. When she has everything, she picks up her phone and checks her missed call. ‘Oh, that was Bridget.’ Seamus perks up. ‘She didn’t leave a message.’
BOSTON
Bridget is still in her car at the crime scene. Tara didn’t pick up; that’s not a good sign. She puts her phone down, grabs the key. Maybe she should try again. She picks up her phone again and dials. This time, Tara picks up on the second ring.
‘Bridget?! Are you on your way home? When can we expect you? Do you need to be picked up from the airport?’ Tara’s familiar voice floods through the phone. But Bridget had braced herself, with the image of Tara on the hilltop it’s not too hard to stay in cop mode.
‘You don’t sound sick.’ This stops Tara’s stream of questions
‘Feeling better? Are you in Boston by any chance?’
Tara hesitates only for a second. ‘You called me at home, dear.’
‘It’s your cell, you could be anywhere.’ Counters Bridget.
‘I don’t fly that far anymore.’ Tara sound genuine.
Bridget starts to doubt herself. ‘You could take a plane.’
‘You’re kidding me right?’ Now, Tara sounds amused. Her grandmother had probably never even been in a plane. Bridget rakes her fingers through her hair but doesn’t respond.
‘What is this all about? What’s with the interrogation? That’s no way to talk to your grandmother. I fainted in the Hat. I asked Maeve to contact you. That’s it.’
The impatience is palpable; it seems she did get through to Tara after all. ‘I’m at a crime scene.’
‘I’m sorry, dear.’ Tara sounds sincere and adds matter of fact, ‘Something is wrong.’
‘You don’t need to be a witch for that. I’m calling you.’ Bridget has a hard time hiding her frustration.
‘You’re the police officer, dear.’ Responds Tara mildly.
‘Witchcraft was involved.’
‘And then you call me? Do you need advice?’ Tara sounds puzzled.
‘I don�
��t need advice.’
‘Bridget. Bridget. These cryptic short sentences make no sense. You think we have something to do with it? That’s ridiculous.’ Tara now even sounds offended. ‘There are plenty of talented witches where you live. If you wouldn’t have behaved so stupid and mingled with other witches, you might actually have known a couple that would be able to help you. And, by the way, we do no harm.’
Bridget becomes angry ‘Whoever did this meant harm.’
‘Not all witchcraft is our fault.’
‘I have reason to believe—’ Tara cuts her off. ‘I need you to come home as soon as possible. Your family needs you.’
‘I’ll get to the truth, Gram.’
‘I’m counting on that, dear.’
‘Are you sure?’ This doesn’t get Bridget anywhere. Her Grandma seems to have an alibi, and still… she’s absolutely sure what she saw.
‘The truth is always best.’ That is not a straight answer.
So, Bridget pushes, ‘Do you want to share some truths now?’
‘I have nothing to hide.’
‘That’s not really an answer is it?’
Tara sighs ‘I was in the Hat. It was around 11pm when I fainted. I couldn’t breathe. There are plenty of witnesses if you don’t believe me.’ Tara changes her tone. ‘I’ve missed you. Please… I need you.’
Reluctantly, Bridget admits ‘I’ve missed you too.’
‘Come home.’ Click, Tara ended the call.
‘Grandma! Damn it.’ This didn’t make anything clearer. Maybe Tara made a shadow self, a familiar. Hell, she doesn’t know enough about this stuff, time to do some research. She shakes it off, starts the car and heads to the police station.
The Dagger Page 4