by Claudy Conn
If you decide to accept this position, you must respond to us at once by signing the contract enclosed and returning it immediately. A fax will do.
Also, should you accept, a first class airline ticket will be made available for your journey, again, as per the contract.
Thank you,
Jeremy Ascot
Ascot & Harcourt
I blinked and reread the letter. “What?” I said out loud. And then added, though I was alone, “Are you kidding me?”
The news was heaven sent. But something made me shiver as I read it over one more time and wondered out loud, “Wait…who highly recommended me?”
I was talking to an empty room and therefore, no one offered a reply. So, I took to pacing and waving the letter around in the air.
Choices at the moment were limited—here was a contract, Inverness, a castle—no choice there. Easy peasy…had to go to Scotland. I mean, I was ready, so ready for it.
I read the contract and stared at the salary I was being offered. Hell yeah, this was a no-brainer.
But who recommended me? I couldn’t help repeating this question to myself.
I moved to the mirror hanging over my side table and stared. “Okay, witchy girl, time to scan this letter for a clue.”
Here is the thing. I am not only a witch, but, as my aunt is fond of telling me, a very powerful and immortal witch. So I scanned it for magic and found none. Zip, nada.
I reread the letter again. Was this real? I stared at the salary being offered and shook my head. This was more than I ever hoped to earn in one year. Hell, it was enough to cover me for five years!
I looked into the mirror again, staring at the mass of red hair piled and clipped up high on my head. It was a jumble of waves that fell from the top of my head all the way down my back. I needed to give it some attention, maybe a trim?
Purple eyes stared back at me. Yes, my eyes are purple—yuck. I had always wished they were normal, like blue or brown, anything but purple.
Aunt Elle laughed at me whenever I told her that and insisted my eyes are not purple but violet and beautiful. Yeah, well, Aunt Elle has walls of green and orange in her bedroom, with beads for doors, and is given to wearing sparkling turbans. We have different ideas of what is beautiful. Thinking of Aunt Elle always makes me smile.
However, back on point. What were the odds of a Scottish firm reaching out to me? I mean, this was nuts, right? Right, I answered myself. Who did I know that would recommend me to them?
Thinking about Scotland made me dreamy. All I had ever wanted was to go to the Highlands and discover my roots. My grandmother was from Scotland…the Highlands to be exact, which made this offer more than appealing.
My grandmother had sent my mother off to New York twenty-two years ago. She met my dad and they were married almost immediately. I came along ten months after that.
I was orphaned at ten years old and my mom’s best friend, Aunt Elle, took me in.
Raised in NYC, I am every bit a New Yorker. So this job offer naturally tickled my suspicion bone into hyper-drive. On top of NYC instincts, I have trust issues as well.
Someone was playing a joke on me. I was getting excited for nothing?
Things like this didn’t happen to people like me. In the years after my parents’ death, I believed that luck would never be on my side ever again.
My parents were killed in a train wreck—our first vacation together. I was thrown clear and lived. Sure, I lived, but they were gone and I was just a kid. I would have gone into the system if Aunt Elle hadn’t arranged to keep me. She is also a witch, though a mortal one. I always suspected she magically tweaked the child services paperwork so that she had immediate guardianship of me. Easy enough, as Mom and Dad’s will named her as my guardian.
Here is the thing. My mom shouldn’t have died in that wreck. She was an immortal witch. It is hard, very hard to kill our kind. Or so, Aunt Elle told me and said Mom told her.
The ugly truth, and one that gives me nightmares, is what happened during the derailment. My mother was pinned and her head severed by a metal beam that came bolting through the windows and caught her dear and beautiful neck, taking it completely off. Thank the fates, I had not seen this when it happened.
My father had been human. I won’t say ‘only human’ because he had been my hero—there was ‘no only’ about him.
But being human, he had been crushed beneath heavy debris and died a slow death before they were able to free him.
As I said, I was flung from the train car and barely received a scratch, as I have that immortal thing going on.
Aunt Elle was there for me in every imaginable way. She was my savior, my go-to person, my font of wisdom and understanding. I would have floundered in the foster system without her. She was named my godmother, but was not written up as my legal guardian.
She saved me. She loved me like her own. The foster system, which is difficult enough for human children—would have been, for a young witch coming into her own, impossible.
The months after my parents’ deaths were difficult. Even with Aunt Elle hovering to comfort, the nightmares and sorrow tormented me.
Elle is a robust and finely tuned earth-bound witch who took control of my life. Tall and full bodied, with cocoa delicious skin, dark eyes, and an absolutely dazzling face and heart. Thank all the fates for my Aunt Elle.
When Mom died, I wasn’t fully in control of my powers. I had only just learned how to use some of my magical skills.
Aunt Elle’s magic comes from the earth and is light and basic. She taught me as much of her mortal witchery as she could, and she made a home for us. She showed me how to manage the might of my very different mana.
I needed the discipline she taught me to use because my magic was way off the charts strong.
Elle tried to research my ancestry because she said my magic wasn’t even diluted by my father’s human blood and that my mom’s magic had never been as strong as mine.
I will never forget her sacrifices, and there were many, because she chose to raise me. For one thing, Aunt Elle had only been thirty when she took me in. Now, I realize how young that really was.
She gave up a great deal in those first years. She hardly dated and only once nearly got married. I so liked him. He was human, big, strong, flirty, and Denzel Washington handsome. I thought the match would take, but in the end, she caught him cheating. I learned another lesson. A man has to be more than a pretty face.
I also learned how strong Aunt Elle was. This wasn’t the first heartache a man had caused her…because it isn’t easy to get away with cheating on a witch.
She gave up on men for a few years after that one, who she told me she thought was her only soulmate. I told her he could not have been. I believe a soulmate could never want to be with anyone else. I am twenty-one and haven’t found mine yet. Oh, I’ve dated and once, just once I thought I came close to it, but there it was, the ‘cheating’ factor.
Giving him up had been easy. Life, no matter the pain, will always move on.
Even after a tragedy such as I experienced with my parents, it is a sure thing that life just keeps on trucking.
I suppose it is an unassailable fact of life. Somehow, I got through it all.
High school was fun. I was wickedly popular. I suppose my penchant for using my magic at opportune moments played a number one role in that fact. Speaking of cheating, I suppose that is cheating in a way, but hey, magic is who I am, and I never used it to do anything but ‘nice’ things.
We live in Greenwich Village, but Aunt Elle basically pushed me out the door of our comfy loft and told me to dorm at NYU. She said I was cramping her style and hugged me in a way which told me I wasn’t, but she thought it was time for the chick to fly.
I got an apartment near the university with two other friends, and those were really wonderful years. Lots of studying put me at the top of my class, but there was also so much fun that came with my new freedom.
By the time I gr
aduated, I had an impressive résumé in business management. Luck, or Aunt Elle, I was never sure which, put me in this apartment complex as the managing director. Free rent, very little salary, but I was happy.
Then they sold the building and here I was without a job or place to live.
I waved the letter in the air and narrowed my eyes before I called on Shama, which is my altered state of mind, something I have learned to call on for my deep and secretive magic, magic I haven’t quite mastered yet.
I don’t use a familiar or a wand like Aunt Elle. Never had the need. That seems to be something mortal witches need to complete their spells.
I just concentrate and my Shama usually produces what I need.
I also use a language unknown in the Human Realm.
I put the letter to my forehead and chanted the word Amme three times, and a 3-D vision appeared. It was in full color, and that made me smile. Sometimes my visions come only in black and white, not sure why.
I saw a mature woman at a desktop computer. She was printing out the letter that had been dictated to her earlier. I scanned the room she occupied and found a letterhead, yup, it was Ascot & Harcourt. The vision faded and bleeped out.
Okay, so this was real. This wasn’t someone’s idea of a joke.
Besides, I’m not sure I really believed this was a prank. After all, who would play such an elaborate joke on me? To what end?
I couldn’t think of any friend of mine who would go that far for a laugh.
Okay, let’s reason this out. Let’s go with what I know. What I know is this is a job I need. What’s more, it is a place to live, as well as to work, and holy good gosh, this job was in Scotland. This was a dream come true.
However, what did I know about Scottish estates? I guess I could learn on the job—trial and error? I’m a quick study.
Who could have given this law firm my name, let alone a sterling recommendation? That question disturbed me.
I did what I always do when I hit a brick wall. I picked up my cell phone.
Aunt Elle answered, and as I always do when I hear her voice, I smiled. “Aunt Elle, you going to be home for a bit? Can I come over?”
“Yes, baby, what’s wrong?”
“On my way, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I grabbed my bag and hurried outdoors. If I took this job, and I was pretty certain I had already decided to do just that, I could afford a cab.
I flagged one down and it wasn’t long before I was in the elevator and stepping out to find Aunt Elle standing there with the door flung wide open.
She pulled me inside and said, “Sit!”
I laughed and plopped down on her yellow cotton sofa, threw down the letter on the coffee table, and hugged a pillow to myself.
She eyed the letter and then eyed me. “Well, now, baby, what’s wrong?”
I have always told her that her power was in her voice. Soft and soothing and her logic was always unassailable. I had come for some of that comfort food.
She has a way of putting things in perspective. “Auntie…did you do this?” I pointed at the letter. “I know you…it is just the sort of thing you would do to help me out.”
She picked up the letter but didn’t read it as she frowned and asked, “Do what, Bobbie my love?”
There it was, Aunt Elle being coy.
A knock on the open door drew our heads around. Rafael! I jumped up and ran to hug him. Rafael was a friend of both my mom and Aunt Elle for as long as I can remember. Also, he is a vampire. My mom spelled a charm he wears around his neck that allows him to travel in daylight. It is a well-guarded secret.
He is tall and beautiful, with silky dark auburn hair and amber eyes. Latin American handsome and very sexy, he was fond of telling me.
He hugged me and I noticed he was frowning. “What is it, Rafael?” I asked.
His voice was grim. “I’m here to warn you, Bobbie. I had just arrived at your apartment when I saw you get into a cab. I guessed you were coming here.”
“Warn me? Warn me about what?” I was astonished.
He looked at Elle. “You were right. Your instincts are always spot on, Elle. Someone was making inquiries about Bobbie’s mother, and trying to maintain a low profile while they were at it.”
“A witch?” my aunt asked.
“No, a vampire with a French accent. No one I spoke to knew who he was and as far as I can tell, he has already left NY. Luckily, the people he questioned are friends of mine and yours. They did not mention Bobbie’s existence and he did not seem to know about her. He left believing Bobbie’s mother was the last of her line.”
“I don’t like this, Rafael,” Aunt Elle said thoughtfully. “Why, after all this time, would someone…a vampire, be looking for Bobbie’s mother?”
He shrugged and plopped down on the sofa. “Dunno, but vampires looking for a witch…never a good thing.”
I plopped down beside him and he put his arm around me. I looked at Aunt Elle. “You knew?”
“No…I had a vision. Rafael checked it out for me. I don’t like this, baby.” She walked away, taking the letter with her and I saw her reading it.
“You take this job, Bobbie, you take it and leave right away,” she said.
“Job? What job?” Rafael asked.
I took his hands in mine. They are always so cold, but I didn’t care. I adore Rafael. He is like an older, caring brother. “In Scotland…managing an estate.”
“Oh, I like that. Yeah, take it. I’ll come visit you in jolly ‘ole Scotland.”
I laughed. “Jolly ‘ole England, not Scotland.”
“Why can’t Scotland be jolly?” he quipped playfully.
I turned back to look at Elle. She was pacing. Aunt Elle is many wonderful things, but she is also frustratingly secretive.
“Ok, give. What else did you see in your vision?” I demanded.
“Darkness and blood,” she said simply. “Now I know why.”
“Aunt Elle, did you arrange this job for me?” I asked.
“No, I did not, but…it has come just at the right time. I want you out of New York as soon as possible.”
“There is nothing some Frenchie vamp can do to hurt our Bobbie. I’m on it,” Rafael said, getting up to take Elle’s shoulders in his big hands. “Even if she wasn’t my little sister, I owe it to her mom.”
I looked at both of them and realized they were seriously concerned. “Wait, what is this all about? Why would someone looking for my mom mean that I could be in danger?”
“My vision was shrouded in a dark mist and, Bobbie…you were in it,” Aunt Elle said. “I have a good feeling about this job in Scotland…about this man, Ascot. You must take the job.”
“I’m off,” Rafael said suddenly.
“Where to?” I was amazed as I watched him march towards the still open door to the elevator.
“Going to find out a little more about this Frenchie vamp,” he said, and smiled broadly. He looked at Elle. “I’ll be in touch.”
“But you said he left?” I called after him.
“Even so, would like to find out who his clan is,” Rafael called out and left.
“This is all so crazy,” I said, and shrugged off all the nonsense about a French vampire. “So, you think I should take the job…go to Scotland?”
“Yes, and while you are there, find an hour to go to the ‘Witching Wall’.”
“The what? Is that a joke?”
“No, you might connect with your grandmother’s memory there. It is a stone monument she created and left there in Inver Park, just outside MacLeod Village.”
“Wait, what? You said MacLeod Village. Are you telling me that the job I am taking is where my grandmother was from?”
“Yes, it is why you must take it,” Aunt Elle said, and looked away from me.
I just stood there, my mouth open, with nothing coming out.
“This is getting way weird,” I finally said.
“I know your mother didn’t speak about her much t
o you…she always believed you would have forever together.”
“All she ever said was that my grandmother was a dear and good immortal witch that loved her and would have adored me had she lived. It always struck me as horrible that both died…I mean, they were immortal. How does that happen?”
“I know, baby. Your mother knew how your grandmother died, but she told me it wasn’t something she was ready to share…”
“Which begs the question, Aunt Elle, was I recommended for my skills, or for my bloodline?”
“Does it matter, Bobbie girl?”
“Yes, no, no—not really. At the moment, I need the job and well…the salary and Scotland is just too much to turn down,” I answered, getting excited, really excited now for the first time. This was real.
“Bobbie, with this strange vampire asking questions, I want you to be careful during your travels. Do what you need to do to protect yourself from vampires…you have it inside of you to hurt them. You know that, right?”
“Sure, I know that, but…I only had to do it once when I was walking back to the dorm and a newbie attacked me. He didn’t know any better and one flick of my wrist and he learned right quick that witches were off limits.” I looked at her and giggled.
“This is serious, Bobbie,” she said without smiling. “There was one thing your mother told me about your grandmother that you should know. You were too young when we lost your mom, but you should know that your mana was inherited directly from your grandmother. She was not only immortal, but considered amongst her kind…of which there are not many, to be the most powerful of all immortal witches on earth.”
“Are you kidding?” I was amazed.
“The power, her power skipped your mom…but your mom told me she saw that power inside of you. She said you glowed with untapped magic. With such power comes great responsibility, and now that you are going to Scotland…well, you should know all of that, because you may soon be called on to make use of that power.”
I started to say something but she hurriedly interrupted. “Let me finish,” she said. “What you call your Shama is an altered state and one that I couldn’t expand or teach you about, as I have no clue just what it is except that your mother mentioned that she believed it was powerful enough to open portals to other realms.”