Wicked Folk (Witchy World Book 2)

by Jamie McFarlane

  Blessing

  Leotown, Current Day

  "You understand we can't warranty this grass seed," the man from Green Solutions Hydro Seeding stated for about the fiftieth time. His balloon-wheeled tank truck was pulled up next to the nearly completed greenhouse on the north lawn of my new home, Tenebrius Manerium. "Those trees will never allow enough sun to germinate a lawn."

  "Don't you have a special shade-mix?" the red-headed Andy Brandlemeir asked. He climbed down from the ladder leaning against the greenhouse and crossed his arms. What Andy gave up in "book-smarts," as he called it, he more than made up for in loyalty and I'd become one of his wards.

  The seeder grimaced, not wanting to get into it with Andy. "Yeah, that's what we have loaded, but I'm just saying, there won't be a warranty."

  "It's okay, Andy," I said and turned back to the concerned man. "As I explained to your boss, the soil back here is particularly fertile. A warranty isn't necessary."

  "Is that a …?" I followed the man's gaze to the top of the mansion. My older sister, Maggie, padded along the mansion's stone rampart three stories in the air, still in her new favorite form – a black panther. Noticing our attention, she quickly disappeared from view.

  "Cat?" I filled in for him. "The light back here plays tricks on your eyes." I pushed my words with a suggestion.

  "Looked bigger," the man said, but turned away. "I guess we'll get to it, then. Sign here." He held a metal clipboard out to me and I signed off.

  "I've seen that cat up there before," Andy said after the man was out of earshot. "Ain't no house cat, either."

  I sighed. Andy was the husband of Kelli, one of the two remaining members of Whyte Wood coven. Somehow, he'd retained his belief that magic wasn't real and I had to credit him for sticking to his guns in the face of overwhelming contrary evidence.

  "I ain't gonna say nothing," he said. "I figure people got a right to their secrets."

  "How much work before the greenhouse is ready?" I asked, mostly interested in changing the subject. I had to raise my voice above the pump motor on the hydro-seeder as the workman dragged a large hose over the freshly graded dirt. The previously overgrown, heavily-treed landscape had been denuded by the over-zealous Left-Hand Coven in an attempt to destroy my family and take control of Tenebrius Manerium.

  "Last of the glass panels is coming this afternoon. I'm just checking to make sure we're ready."

  I was excited at his progress. The interior of the greenhouse was now outfitted with long, cypress shelves along the exterior walls and a wide work table down the center. As a wizard, I was willing to skimp on just about anything but my greenhouse. I had delayed several other projects in order to complete this beautiful building.

  The toot of a car horn caught my attention and I turned to look up the cobblestone path that meandered around to the front of the house. Unsurprisingly, it was Willow Katty in her restored 1950s vintage work truck. She carried a load of seedlings we'd been setting aside at her nursery over the winter.

  Willow was one of three sisters who owned and operated the local witch's haunt and restaurant, Chatty Katty's. I was happy to see she'd brought her daughter, Cypress (or Cy), along. Willow was a curvy woman in her late forties and had difficulty suppressing her often overt sexual overtures. Thank goodness, with her eighteen-year-old daughter back from college, she tended to be less forward. It wasn't that I found Willow unattractive. She was all that and more, but I was a one-woman man.

  "Uncle Felix!" Cypress bounded out of the truck before it fully rolled to a stop and ran over to give me a hug. It was a running joke between Cy and her two cousins, Dandelion (Dande) and Solstice (Sol), that they referred to me as Uncle Felix. I was barely ten years their senior, but they enjoyed needling me about my elderly status all the same.

  "Welcome back, Cy," I said, enjoying the attention. "When did you get in?"

  "We came back last night," she said. "I can't believe we're through our freshman year."

  "Are you ready to do some planting?" I asked, walking to the back of the sage-green truck. Cypress grabbed my hand.

  "Mom is so excited about your greenhouse," she said. "And Aunt Belle sent sandwiches. Is Clarita here?" Clarita was, of course, my six-year-old niece.

  I chuckled. "Yes. Gabriella dropped her off and last I saw; she was playing with Maggie."

  "I see her. I'll be back!" Cypress dropped my hand and sprinted toward the doors of the glassed-in atrium at the back of the house that served as an informal dining room.

  "Good help is hard to find." Willow laughed as I lowered the tailgate of the truck and helped her roll back the protective blanket covering the tiny plants.

  "She's a sweet one," I replied. "You all are. I would have happily come over and helped load this up. You didn't have to do it by yourself."

  "The girls are all back," Willow said. "We had it loaded in minutes. Besides, I wanted to see your progress." She waved to Andy, who was walking purposefully away. Although his wife was a witch - a fact he never acknowledged - Andy had no interest in being around other witches. He nodded tersely but kept his head pointed forward.

  "Queer little man," Willow said. "Isn't that Kelli Brandlemeir's husband?"

  "I think you make him nervous," I said.

  "I have that effect on most men," she said huskily with a waggle of her eyebrows.

  I nodded in acknowledgment. "You definitely make me nervous."

  "You are such a tease, Felix Slade." She pulled a tray of tiny green plants from the truck. "How long will they be here?" She was referring to the men spraying green slurry onto the bare dirt. Willow had made it clear she didn't think it necessary to hire the truck. I'd argued that planting three acres of grass seed by hand was more work than I was interested in.

  "This is their last trip," I said. "He's concerned the grass won't grow back here because of the shade."

  Willow harrumphed as she set her load on the cypress counter. "We'll see about that," she said. "A blessing ceremony is in order."

  I shook my head mournfully. What she had in mind was exactly what Tenebrius Manerium needed, but I also knew it would entail plenty of personal discomfort. Wordlessly, I walked back to the truck to pick up another flat, this one filled with white jasmine plants.

  "I'd love to have you over, but it's such short notice," I said.

  "You're just worried about Mom and her sisters taking off their clothes," Cy said from the other side of the truck. I hadn't seen her approach and she had my six-year-old niece, Clarita, firmly planted on her hip.

  "There is nothing more beautiful than the human form in its natural setting," Willow said. "We will restore your land's fertility and rejoice."

  "Not to mention get drunk off our asses," Cy said.

  "Cypress. Not in front of Clarita," Willow scolded with a mischievous smile on her face.

  "Can we invite Gabriella?" Technically, Tenebrius Manerium was smack dab in the middle of Veiled Circle Coven's territory. And Gabriella, my – I wasn't really sure what we were – was of a different, albeit friendly coven.

  "Already taken care of," Willow said.

  "So this plan is already in motion?" I asked with a sigh. Why did I even bother to think I was in control of things?

  "Mari was hoping you'd pick up a few bottles of that Moscato she likes," Willow answered, referring to her sister and Dande's mother.

  "Anything else I should get?" I asked. I really couldn't complain. Having a coven of witches weave a fertility blessing into my land was a rare opportunity and I was fortunate to have such good friends. If I had a complaint, it was that I hadn't been consulted about it. A weak argument, to be sure.

  "I have a list," Willow said and pulled a piece of paper from her lacy bra. A whiff of her sultry perfume hit me as I accepted it, no doubt she'd doused it liberally.

  "You play dirty."

  "If you only knew," she said, causing my heart to race. There was something about the older woman that … well, I didn't want to dwell on that thought too much.
I pushed the list into my pocket.

  "Just how are you and Gabriella doing?" Willow asked, her concern genuine.

  "Okay, I think," I said. The truth was that I was crazy about Gabriella Valverde. I thought we'd crossed whatever boundary constituted a relationship, but we'd recently regressed into some sort of more-than-friends-but-less-than-lovers-land. I didn't like the ambiguity.

  "The two of you need to work this out. She is very much in love you with, Felix, but whatever has come between you could cause a schism." Willow turned from the truck and started back to the greenhouse, having said her piece.

  An innocent laugh caught my attention and I turned to see Clarita skipping across the cobblestone drive toward me. She was the one woman in my life with whom I found no ambiguity. I scooped her into my arms, spinning as we laughed, and followed Willow and Cypress back to the greenhouse.

  "Tomorrow morning we'll start transplanting these into larger containers," I said to Clarita, setting her on the counter.

  "There aren't enough," Clarita observed, and she was right. Even though Willow had brought an entire pickup load, the greenhouse had room for ten times as many plants, if not more.

  "That’s the fun of it," I said. "We'll split these, add more and soon we'll fill this entire greenhouse."

  "Mr. Slade?" The hydro seeder knocked on the open door, looking at the four of us as we worked with the plants.

  "Yup," I answered.

  "We're done here," he said. "You'll need to stay off the seeds for the next four to six weeks as they germinate. Like I said before, we can't guarantee the planting due to the excessive tree canopy. Since you'll have a lot of bare spots, I'd recommend a second application. Would you like to make that appointment now?"

  "I don't think that'll be necessary," I said. "Do you know your way out?"

  "We get pretty busy come summer, but it's your decision," he said and turned away.

  "Hey, Felix?" Andy's voice caught my attention. "Is it possible to move this pickup truck? The rest of the glass has arrived."

  "That’s our cue," Willow said. "We'll see you tonight, sweetie." She plucked at Clarita's cheek affectionately. "Don’t forget the Moscato. Mari hasn't talked about anything else for a few days."

  I frowned at her. " You've known for a few days?"

  Willow winked while sidling up to me. "I even picked out a new sheer camisole. I think you'll like it."

  "Mom," Cypress complained. "Stop. It's embarrassing."

  "I'm afraid this talk of fertility blessings has me all worked up." Willow fanned her face with her hand. "You know how I get."

  "I do," Cypress replied, hooking her arm through her mother's to guide her back to the truck.

  I took Clarita into my arms and followed the pickup out along the cobblestones. Movement in the shrubs next to the house caught my eye and Clarita wiggled so I’d place her on the ground. Maggie, my sister who preferred to stay in panther form, slipped around the corner and nuzzled against Clarita, leading her off.

  "You're causing rumors," I said loudly to Maggie's retreating form, earning me a chuff.

  The throaty sound of a big motor caught my attention. Coming down the long drive was Amak in her Jeep complete with oversized tires, stream snorkel, and blaring music.

  "I didn't know you were coming out this morning," I said, as my six-and-a-half-foot tall best friend and Senwe Troll princess swung easily from her rig. We'd actually started out as enemies, worked our way around to lovers and finally settled on being friends. I know what you're thinking - she's a troll. Don’t judge me. She's gorgeous in her own right and I'm not the sort to let skin color and tusks get in the way of true love. In the end, it was Amak who turned me down on the relationship front, unable to make a commitment due to her station in the Senwe tribe.

  "We're going to attack your garage today," she said. "I can't believe you've never opened it."

  "I have," I said defensively. "I park the truck in the end bay."

  "Which doesn't even have a door on it," she said. "Are you afraid of something?"

  "It's not like that," I protested.

  "So you are," she said. "Spill it, Slade. Something's got you going about the garage. "

  I sighed. "Today's as good a day as any."

  The five-stall garage sat on the east side of the circular courtyard, perpendicular to the house and attached to the breezeway. Both the garage and breezeway were in poor repair and I knew when we started working on one, it would require work on the other. I'd been using excuses like limited funds and winter weather, but now Amak was calling me out.

  I approached the first stall and pulled at the door. Initially, it was stuck. I felt somewhat let down when we finally opened the door and found nothing more than a pile of old crates. It might be interesting to go through them, but not today.

  We moved on to the second and pulled it open. This time the task was easier, having figured out how best to work with the old doors. Sitting inside was a canvas cover that when pulled back, exposed a dusty, but gorgeous, old Indian motorcycle.

  "That's something," Amak said. "Ten years old, I'd guess. Want me to get my cuz to come pick it up? She's got a tow-truck with a flatbed."

  I shrugged. "Sure. Can't just let it sit here."

  "This is great," Amak said. "Just think of the fun we could have on it."

  I smiled. She was right. It did look fun. I slowly moved to the next garage. I knew what we were going to find and wasn't ready for the rollercoaster of feelings it would cause.

  "What is it, Slade? You bury a body in here when you were a kid?"

  "No," I said. "Let's keep going."

  "Suit yourself," she said.

  I pulled at the third door. Even with a tarp covering it, I knew exactly what I was looking at.

  "What is this?" Amak asked excitedly, pulling at the tarp and exposing my dad's medium blue and white 1972 Classic Chevy Suburban. It was strange that I couldn't remember what he looked like, but I knew every detail of his Suburban. "Slade. You've been holding out on me. Tell me again why you didn't want to find this?"

  "It's my dad's," I said. "The only thing I remember about him is riding in this truck."

  "It's in pristine condition," she continued excitedly. "Those seats are leather and I think it's got the 454 big-block in there."

  I walked along the passenger's side and peered in. It had been cleaned out before being stored. Nothing but a thin film of dust could be seen, although I recall the truck always being clean. I pulled the door open and slid into the front seat. The interior smelled familiar, threatening to dislodge a memory. I struggled to chase it down, to no avail.

  "Hey, you okay in there, Slade?" Amak asked opening the driver's side door. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  "It's familiar," I said.

  My mother had cast a spell on me for my own protection, causing me to forget most of my childhood. It hadn't worked perfectly, because twenty years later, I'd shown up in town and inadvertently laid claim to the family fortune, including Tenebrius Manerium. Unfortunately, much of my memory was still lost, either due to too many years having passed or because of what she'd done to me. If you believed my sister, Maggie, Mom had abandoned us for the good of the family. She'd fled for some reason Maggie either didn't know or wouldn't share.

  "Pretty nifty," Amak said. "Tell me we're going to get this fixed too?"

  "Think your cousin has a discount for multiple projects?"

  ***

  Later that night, I lay back on the warm blankets spread on the wide granite steps leading down to the fire pit. The buzz of too much alcohol kept me well relaxed. The Katty sisters, their daughters, Gabriella, Kelli and a couple of other witches whose names I couldn't recall, danced beautifully in the cold, spring air. Clarita had finally given up and lying next to me, snuggled in amongst the thick comforters.

  In my current state, the general nakedness of the older women didn't bother me as much as it did when I was sober. I appreciated that the younger women, like Gabriella,
kept things at a P.G. rating, only stripping down to leotards.

  Willow explained to me on numerous occasions that to be sexually stimulated by a fertility dance, or really any of the blessings performed by modern witches, was natural. In fact, she'd argued that it was very much the point. Nature was the very force they celebrated and reproduction was at the heart of everything natural.

  I tacitly agreed, as there wasn't much I could say. To deny that I was attracted to just about every naked female form I'd witnessed would have been a lie. Certainly, there were degrees of attraction - as well as taboos. I found the easiest way to avoid being confronted by these issues was by simply getting drunk enough that I no longer cared. If and when that plan broke down, I sought out Gabriella, whose beauty was at a whole different level from those around her. Petite and graceful, she danced in a way that brought tears to my eyes. Her connection to everything and everyone around her allowed her to mingle selflessly with her sisters.

  Feeling my attention, she would often dance over to me and draw me in, coaxing me from my safe position. Our dance together was ephemeral, leaving me wanting more as she joined back with her sisters. It was nights like this when I found myself jealous of the bond the sisterhood of witches shared. I questioned what any of them saw in me. Why did they allow me to witness and participate, if only somewhat, in their rituals?

  ***

  The next morning, I awoke. The fire had died and the crowd thinned to a small number, many of whom were stirring, just as I had, with dawn's break.

  Gabriella pulled me back into the nest we shared with Clarita and Maggie, in panther form. I'd let cold air in under the covers, a sin that could only be rectified by closer contact. I tossed a leg over Gabriella and pulled her up against my chest where she snuggled for warmth, making it impossible for me to consider leaving, though urgent duty called.

  I smiled at Belle, Sol's mother, as she gathered her blankets and quietly pulled on her shoes. She greeted me by returning my smile, then gestured down the hill. The sun's low rays breaking through the trees gave me just enough light to behold a transformation unlike anything I'd expected. Instead of the gray-green dried slurry of fertilizer and grass seed, there lay a thick field of blue flowers and grass. In the middle of this field lay the three young Kattys; Sol, Cypress and Dande, curled around each other as they slept.