Addicted Witch: A Jagged Grove Mystery

by Willow Monroe

  “Doesn’t that feel good?” he asks me, his breath tickling my ear. “You know, we’ve got time to...”

  I struggle to get up and out of his reach. “No, please. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  My voice is too high and shaky. I swallow and stare at him.

  He laughs, holding up both hands in surrender. “You know, if you’d just...”

  “Relax. I know.” He has no idea how bad I want to do just that, but I can’t.

  “It’s hard to keep my hands off you, you know.”

  I’m about to answer when the doorbell startles me.

  “That’s Glade,” Angelo says. “Saved by the bell.” He puts his cup in the sink and leaves the room. I sink back into my chair and try to calm my heartbeat.

  When he comes back, Glade is with him. Glade is raven-haired and lanky like his sister, but taller. In the last few months, thanks to Mom’s cooking skills, he’s filled out a lot, and I can see glimpses of the man he will be, once he gets through his teens.

  Right now he looks worried. “Have you seen Rain, Trinket?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Not since...” I think. “Two days ago. She wasn’t supposed to come in to the clinic again until tomorrow.”

  “Well, I can’t find her. She’s not at home, and Bilda hasn’t seen her either.”

  I frown. That doesn’t sound like Rain at all. “Maybe she’s just busy.”

  “Jones was teaching her a few self-defense spells, I heard,” Angelo offers. “Maybe she’s hanging out there.”

  Glade shakes his head. “Not at night, though. I’m serious, guys. No one has seen her, not for days. I wanted to let her know that we were leaving, but I can’t find her.”

  “Well, she’ll be at the clinic tomorrow, so I’ll let her know what’s going on. She’s never missed work.” I reach out and give his shoulder a squeeze, fully aware that hugs are embarrassing to him. “I’m sure she’s OK. She might have just needed some alone time.”

  He nods, but he doesn’t seem to feel any better. “When are we leaving?” he asks Angelo.

  Angelo grins at the barely concealed excitement in Glade’s voice. “Give me ten minutes,” he says.

  When he leaves the room, Glade turns his attention back to me. “Don’t tell anyone yet, but I’m working with Angelo to find me and Rain our own house.”

  My eyebrows go up. “Really? That’s a big responsibility, Glade.”

  “Well...” He looks sheepish. “Bilda and Blakely will be getting married soon, so she won’t want us living with them.”

  “Oh, shut up. You know better than that. Mom and Blakely both love you two very much. Sometimes I think she’d be lost without you to eat her out of house and home.”

  He laughs, just a little. “Well, we’re adults now, so it’s kind of time for us to do that anyway, isn’t it?”

  I nod. “If you say so, and if you’re comfortable with it, go for it. But Glade...” I pause dramatically, “How will you eat?”

  It was an old joke that Rain can’t cook and has no desire to learn.

  “I didn’t say I would give up mealtimes there.” He looks horrified, and I laugh.

  Angelo comes back, carrying a duffel bag. “Ready?” he asks Glade.

  When Glade nods, Angelo throws him the keys to his Jeep. “Go start the car. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  We watch him go, and then Angelo turns to me. His smile is soft. “I should be home well before the storm hits. If I’m not, and you won’t go to Bilda’s, please stay here. Don’t try to go to the clinic, even if someone calls and says they need you.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. “But if someone is hurt...”

  “It won’t do anybody any good if our only healer is hurt or sick. You stay put - understand?”

  I nod, but I’m glad he hasn’t asked me to promise. If the circumstances are warranted, I’ll make my own decisions. No use telling him that - it will only make him more bullheaded. While I appreciate Angelo’s concern, I’m not a child.

  He kisses me on the cheek and then the lips, making my blood hum just under the surface of my skin. The kiss is deep and true, and I almost moan before I break away from him and try to tamp down the heat that floods my body. Then I give them a shaky smile, wave, and watch them walk out the door.

  If only...

  The problem with my early warning system - the way my body goes into overdrive when Angelo is near - is that it works both ways. When he leaves, a little part of me just...deflates.

  I figure the best idea for me now is a shower and an early bedtime. When I get upstairs, though, I decide to take a bath instead. A long, soaking bath, with bubbles and everything. I even light a candle that smells like lavender.

  The house feels different when Angelo isn’t here, and I’m not sure if I like that. I love my house, but all the stone and wood are a little bit imposing. When Angelo is here it feels...warmer. Cozier.

  Probably just my imagination.

  The wind rattles the shutters, making me jump a little. I glance out at the darkness, hoping that Angelo and Glade are all right. The trip from Jagged Grove to the mainland necessitates a sea voyage, and this kind of weather always makes things a little rough.

  I go to bed feeling depressed, even if I’m not sure why.

  It’s still dark when I step outside the next morning, even though it’s after eight and the sun should have been long up. Instead, low, fast-moving black clouds threaten as I walk the few blocks to the clinic. The wind is getting worse, too, and I pull my coat in closer around me. I can see my breath.

  Rain and I are supposed to be working on patient files today, a tedious task at best, but at least the weather is right for it - we definitely won’t be beckoned outside by summer sunshine. I might even start a fire in the unused fireplace that graces our small waiting room. That would keep the chill off, if it doesn’t put us to sleep.

  The door knob sticks as usual when I turn it, and I have to give it a hard jiggle to get it open. Someday I’m going to get that fixed.

  It’s warmer inside, and out of the wind. I stand for a second, looking around, before flicking on the lights and walking around the nine waiting room chairs to the reception desk. It’s neat and clean - Rain is nothing if not tidy. I hang up my coat and lay my gloves on the windowsill, where they’ll catch any sunshine and be warm when I leave this evening.

  Then I turn around and head for the supply room to make a fresh pot of coffee.

  I inherited this place from my sister, Jagged Grove’s previous healer. It’s small but perfect for my needs, consisting of the reception area, the supply room where we keep all manner of things that wouldn’t be found anywhere near a real doctor’s office, an actual exam room, and my personal office. Rain and I work here, with some herbal help from my mom on occasion, but there really isn’t enough work for even two people. Unless something big is going on - like an angry ghost destroying the docks - we get between four and ten patients a week. Just enough.

  Just as I sink into my big leather office chair, Rachel appears in a swirl of smoke. She’s my sister, and she’s also a ghost, ever since her jealousy issues got out of hand and did her in.

  “Caffeine is bad for you,” she states, putting her hands on her translucent hips.

  I swallow a groan. “Don’t care, Rachel.”

  “Well you should. It’s bad for your skin too, especially since you drink so much of it.”

  “Still don’t care.” I know she’s not here to talk about my caffeine consumption. She only ever comes for one reason.

  “I saw Angelo at the docks last night. Where was he going?”

  Ahh, there it is. I put down my cup and dig a stack of folders from my bottom desk drawer. “You’ll have to ask him when he comes back.”

  She sniffs. “You mean you don’t know? That’s not a great wifely attitude, Trinket. You could lose him that way.”

  I look up and glare at her. Well, glare through her. “I’m trying to lose him, Rachel.”

 
She gasps. “Why are you so vicious when it comes to him? He’s a wonderful man.” She sniffs again. “I should know.”

  “Get out, Rachel. I’m busy.”

  Instead of poofing away to wherever it is that she goes, she leans closer, studying the files from her side of the desk. “Mrs. Caddeus really needs to kick those kids out,” she says. “They’re mean to her.”

  I glance up at her. “Making a seventy year old woman eat fresh vegetables isn’t cruelty, Rachel.”

  “Yeah it is...”

  “Shoo.” I wave a hand at her.

  “No, I want to talk about Angelo some more. Have you two done the deed yet?”

  My mouth drops open. “I wish people would stop asking me that.”

  “Why? It’s important.”

  “Not to me,” I lie. Unfortunately, where Angelo is concerned, I think about the subject way too much these days, but I’m not about to tell Rachel that.

  “Well, then, something is wrong with you. Have you met Angelo? He’s so...”

  “Shoo,” I say again, more forcefully. “I don’t need your commentary on my love life, Rachel. Go haunt somebody else.”

  “OK, but you’d better loosen up, or he might get tired of you...” She laughs, but fades away.

  I relax and return to updating my patient files. I have ten or twelve patients with chronic problems - mostly diabetes - and at least three that are hypochondriacs. They’re files are as thick as my wrist, and require the most upkeep, so I start with them.

  I get so absorbed in making notes that it takes me a couple of hours to realize that Rain isn’t here yet. When I check the clock and see that it’s after ten, I frown and wonder if I should worry. Rain is normally here by nine, and she’s never, ever been late. She loves her job. I pick up the phone to call Mom, but then hesitate and put it away. If nothing is wrong, I’ll get her all worried for no reason.

  Instead, I go to the supply room and find a black bowl and my limited supply of crushed bone. The crushed bone came with the office, and I’ve never been brave enough to ask Rachel what kind of bone it is, exactly. Thankfully, that doesn’t matter for my purpose today. I sprinkle it and speak words in a language that’s so old even I don’t understand it. Then I lean forward, brace my hands on either side and look into the depths of the vessel. The water clouds and then clears, becoming hot as I watch. Steam rises toward my face and makes me want to turn my head, but I don’t. I just keep watching.

  The cloudiness comes again, this time accompanied by a quiet hum of vibration that disturbs the surface of the water before settling again. The powder swirls and darkens in the bowl until the water looks more like ink.

  I watch carefully, holding my breath.

  Rain swims into view at the bottom of the bowl, her black hair shining in sunlight. That’s odd. I keep watching.

  She’s talking to someone - it looks like a boy, actually, but not someone I recognize. He’s got blond spiky hair and blue eyes. She waves her hands, telling him something, and then they both laugh.

  It looks normal. It look innocent. It looks like two teens having a good time.

  Except...Well, except that I know Rain.

  Chapter 3

  Rain isn’t into boys right now. She’s only just now coming out of a deep depression that kept her quiet and sad for since the death of her parents. She loves the work here at the clinic and claims that that’s enough for now.

  I’ve asked her many times about boys, but other than a definite, far-fetched crush on our werewolf friend Jones, she always says that nope, she’s just not interested. She says she’s too busy finding herself and figuring out what she wants to worry about adding another person’s feelings into the mix. Which makes a lot of sense.

  Until this moment, I’ve believed her. As I watch, she and the boy start walking. They’re in bright sunshine, dressed in t-shirts and jeans. Cars are parked all around, and behind them I can see what looks like a glass-doored mall entrance.

  So she’s at the mall? Jagged Grove only has one mall, and it’s fairly new. But there’s a problem - there is no sunshine today. This vision is either a snapshot of some other time - and I’ve never heard of that happening before - or Rain is somehow not on Jagged Grove.

  But where else could she be? We’re on an island - it isn’t like she could jump in the car and go on a road trip. Another thing - Rain and Glade are two of the few people actually born here, instead of brought through the portal on Angelo’s ships. She’s never been off the island.

  I shake the vision from my mind and empty the bowl into a potted plant, then rinse it and put it away while I try to figure out what I should do next. I can’t contact Angelo directly, but I could have Flux do it. He’s our fire chief, and has the satellite signal to get in touch with him between portals. But what could Angelo do? Either Rain is here, or she’s not. And if she’s not, she could be anywhere in the world.

  But how? There is only one way in and out, and Angelo knows who uses it. Rain would have to get permission, sign the log, and give him a really, really good reason to go before she could set foot on the ship.

  Even if she had managed to do all those things, Angelo would have mentioned it to us.

  Right?

  I frown and grab my coat. The patient files can wait - I need to talk to somebody.

  I step out into the wind - it’s biting cold now - and turn in the direction of Mom’s house, but I’m not going there. Other than Angelo, I can only think of one person who knows almost everything that’s going on around here, and he lives on the street behind her.

  I haven’t seen Jones much since Angelo and I were bound. Until then, he was my first and best friend when I came here, but just as that was about to turn into something more, all hell broke loose and I ended up married to Angelo. At first I thought it didn’t matter - Jones was a player, and he was too busy sampling all the interesting goods to settle down with one woman. But then things felt more...serious...between us. The problem was that before we could even decide if we wanted that, I was gone.

  Now, I just try to keep my distance, but I miss my friend. It’s one of the reasons I want to hurry up and break the bond with Angelo - even if Jones and I never go back to what we were, I want to dissolve the odd, suffocating tension between us.

  I step up onto his cluttered front porch and knock lightly, not sure what kind of reception I’ll get today, and I’m surprised when he isn’t the one who answers the door. Instead, I’m standing face to face with Imala, another friend and neighbor.

  “Oh, hey, Trinket,” she says, smiling and opening the door wide.

  “Uh...hi!” This is strange. Imala, who always reminds me of a lioness, has often made her contempt for Jones known, but now she’s answering his door? I feel like the world is suddenly foreign to me, like it’s backwards day or something. “This is a surprise,” I say.

  She laughs, and I swear I see a blush creep in under her coffee-colored skin. “I was just getting some supplies from our resident scholar. If we’re going to be snowed in for the next few days, we might as well play with our magic, right?”

  I smile and nod, but I don’t quite believe her. I want to say so, maybe even tease her about being with Jones, but I don’t.

  Jones is a werewolf, but thanks to his sister Feena he’s also studied witchcraft, and knows more about it than a lot of actual witches. He’s also got a green thumb, so if anyone needs a particular herb or spell involving herbs, they know to come to him. He even supplies some of Mom’s ingredients, and she’s got a green thumb of her own.

  The thing is, Imala has never really liked Jones. She thinks he’s too flirty, too, full of himself, and too crazy to be taken seriously. Yet here she is...

  “Is he around?” I ask. “I need to ask him a couple of questions.”

  “Sure, she beckons for me to follow her inside. We walk through his living room - typical bachelor, but with more plants and lots of books - and into the kitchen. Jones is at the island, grating something that smells like lico
rice. He looks up when I come in and smiles. “Hey, Trinket. I’m a popular guy today. What do you need?”

  I laugh. “Jones, you’re a popular guy every day, and don’t pretend you don’t know that. But I’m here for information, actually.”

  Imala pipes up. “Should I make myself scarce?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “No - you might know something, too. Please stay.”

  Jones puts down his knife and comes to our side of the butcher-block island. “Know something about what?” he asks, leaning against it.

  “Well...” Now that I’m here, I’m not sure where to even start. “First of all, I don’t want to worry Mom, so maybe keep this to yourselves?”

  The both nod.

  I take a deep breath. “Rain seems to be missing,” I explain. “Glade asked me last night if I’d seen her, and she didn’t show up at the clinic today. I’m afraid something is wrong.”

  I don’t miss the look that passes between Jones and Imala. “What?”

  Jones shakes his head. “Go on.”

  I look back and forth between them as I tell them about my attempt at scrying. I can’t help but wonder if Rain is in trouble, and they just don’t want to tell me, but what kind of real trouble could she be in? It isn’t like there are drug wars or gangs in Jagged Grove.

  “I’ve never heard of it giving a glimpse of another time,” Imala says, “Unless you asked specifically for that.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t.”

  “And you’re sure you just weren’t distracted, or upset about something?” Jones asks. “That can get some wires crossed sometimes.”

  I start to shake my head again, but Imala speaks. “Angelo left last night. I saw them on the ship. He has Glade with him.”

  I look at her.

  “Are you missing him? Or worried for some reason? That can have an effect on your visions.”

  “No, Imala. Nothing like that. Until I did the scrying, everything was just fine.”

  Now they both look skeptical.

  I ignore it. “I came to ask if you’ve seen or heard anything about her. Maybe some new friend that we don’t know about, or any new hobbies that she hasn’t mentioned?”