Witch's Awakening

by Neely Powell

  Delia argued, “But you heard what Aiden said. This could be a demon. Even if it isn’t, we know there’s residual black magic around. It could affect the spell or one of us.”

  Sarah passed the dishes to Marcus and turned back to Delia. “When all of us gather, our magic is stronger than any other.”

  Aiden traded a concerned look with Delia. He shook his head.

  “We should not do this,” Delia said with force. “Demons are unpredictable. According to our research—”

  “There’s that word again,” Brenna muttered, though she was amazed to see her mother and grandmother argue. They had never raised their voices to each other in her presence.

  “I think you need to reconsider, Mother.”

  Brenna was astonished. Delia always called Sarah by her given name. Calling her “Mother” made this a red-letter day.

  “We’ll be gathering just after moonrise tonight, Delia, to give Eva Grace our help,” Sarah said blandly. “If you can’t make it, we’ll understand. You missed other events, and we were still successful.”

  Brenna’s eyes widened as Sarah’s barb hit home. Delia looked like she’d been smacked. Aiden rose and put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

  Sarah sailed out of the room, dirty dishes in hand and head held high.

  “How do we kill demons?” Lauren murmured.

  Once again Maggie began to sob.

  Brenna groaned. She had a terrible feeling her mother was right about the folly of Sarah’s plan. What’s worse, she knew Willow had spoken the truth to all of them. Brenna held the future of her family in her hands. From where she sat, with no clue how to stop the curse, that was more frightening than an army of demons.

  Chapter Seventeen

  On Tuesday, as night fell over New Mourne, Jake waited for all of the Connelly witches to gather at Eva Grace’s shop.

  “I’m definitely not sure about this.” He and Brenna were standing in the front room, watching through the window for Maggie. She was the only witch who had not arrived.

  Brenna had told him about Willow’s visit and the argument between Sarah and Delia last night. “I’m not even sure Maggie will show up,” she murmured. “She and Lauren have taken my mother’s side in the argument against this ritual tonight. They’re scared to death by all of the demon talk.”

  “How is everyone else aligning?” Jake glanced over his shoulder. Lauren was huddled with Delia and Dr. Burns. Sarah, Doris and Frances were on the other side of the room. The other women were in the middle, looking like a bunch of jittery hens.

  “This is really getting to Fiona.” Brenna nodded toward her sister, who was staring down at her iPhone, her eyes red-rimmed and glazed, as if she had not slept at all. “She desperately wants to believe in our parents, but she’s so loyal to Sarah. She spent most of the day trying to find the ghost who used to live in this shop.”

  “So the ghost still missing?”

  “Fiona says all the town’s ghosts are very quiet.” Brenna shivered. “That’s not normal.”

  “Eva Grace seems calm.” Jake frowned. He wasn’t sure the redhead’s cool demeanor was a good thing.

  Brenna echoed his thoughts with her troubled sigh. “She thinks the Woman in White is coming for her. She’s so resigned to that, that she won’t even discuss it with me and Fiona. She says there’s no point in more research because the inevitable will happen.”

  Anger flashed in Brenna’s eyes. “It infuriates me that she’s being worn down by this. The elder aunts and Sarah told us last night that their sister Rose was like that before the Woman took her. Just hopeless and lost.”

  “Was Eva Grace’s mother like that before she died, too?” Jake was concerned as he studied Eva Grace’s serene features. She didn’t look quite like herself.

  Shrugging, Brenna looked back out the window. “They wouldn’t talk much about it today. Sarah was holed up in her room with The Connelly Book of Magic. I offered to help her with tonight’s spell, but she told me she is still the one in power.”

  “She feels threatened by what Willow told you all last night.” Jake ran a hand through his hair, weary to the bone. He wished this nightmare was over, that the demon or the Woman, or both, were defeated. Would he and Brenna ever get to go back to the place they were last night?

  It seemed like weeks instead of hours since he had made love to her. Although the sensible thing would be to let the attraction between them die, he couldn’t stop thinking about how she had felt in his arms, how her magic had rained down on them like a warm, spring shower. Throughout the horror of last night and today, he had drawn comfort from that memory.

  Sandy’s death had shaken him. She’d been young and innocent. Notifying her parents early this morning was awful. Why kill her or Garth? Why torture the entire town? He wanted all of this to end.

  But if history was borne out, the only possible end was the death of one of the Connellys.

  Brenna could be the one chosen to die.

  Fear rose in Jake, tightening his chest. After the way he grew up, after all he had done and seen as a man and as a tiger, he wasn’t often afraid. The thought of Brenna’s life ending in such a senseless way brought real fear. He didn’t expect that emotion and was glad to see Maggie coming up the walk.

  The young witch seemed distracted as Jake opened the door. Her auburn hair, long like Lauren’s, was usually arranged in a conservative style. Tonight, she had drawn it back in a severe bun.

  Her clothes were all wrong, too, Jake realized. The thermometer topped out in the nineties today, but Maggie wore a black turtleneck and dark jeans that molded to her body. He guessed she might be dressing for dramatic effect. Lauren certainly had, in a form-fitting dark purple dress with sparkles on the bodice. He thought the rest of the witches, in their sensible pantsuits, and jeans and T-shirts were attired more suitably for the mess that surrounded them.

  “I was afraid you’d decide not to come,” Brenna said to Maggie as she and Jake followed her to the center of the store where the others were gathered.

  “I thought about it,” Maggie replied. “But I realized that Sarah is right. We have to put Eva Grace’s shop back in order. It’s the first step in getting all of this over and done.”

  Brenna studied her younger cousin with surprise.

  Sarah greeted Maggie with a smile and kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for believing in me, my dear.”

  Jake stepped back as Dr. Burns and Marcus joined him.

  “Are we ready?” Sarah stood at the bottom of the shop’s staircase, her long, gray hair loose around her shoulders. She seemed to glow, her skin and eyes luminous. At her signal, one of Brenna’s aunts turned out the lights. In the twilight gloom, the faces of all of the women were shadowed as they formed a loose circle around Sarah.

  Jake believed in the Connellys’ magic, but he doubted they could affect the mess here with a little abracadabra. He’d been in the store most of the night and day, helping process the scene. The place was a ruin of shattered glass, pottery, stone and wood.

  The state’s crime scene investigators were finished; although Jake didn’t believe what they gathered would prove useful. The local guys thought Sandy’s death was just like Garth’s—a supernatural murder. Hours after the young woman died, they had recorded a number of the “hot spots” Brenna’s father suggested they look for.

  Aiden was more convinced than ever that a demon was involved with what was happening in the town. Earlier today, he had studied the graffiti on the Dollar General Store’s wall, as well as Mary’s Diner where the werewolf had appeared without a full moon. The researcher called both places “proof of demonic malevolence.”

  Jake called it damn scary.

  Now, Dr. Burns tried once more to reason with Sarah. “I wish you would think about this a little more. Consider the level of evil that is still in this shop.”

  Sarah made an impatient gesture.

  Delia took up the argument. “You can smell the sulfur in the air. Surely you know what
that means.”

  “Is that the rotten egg smell?” Brenna asked. “That stink has overtaken the herbs and oils that were spilled everywhere last night.”

  “Sulfur is the classic demonic calling card,” her father answered. “Sarah, again, I caution you—”

  “Be still,” the coven leader said with unexpected sharpness. “All of you men need to step back against the door.”

  Jake caught Brenna’s gaze and tried to nod in encouragement as he, Marcus and Dr. Burns moved to the entrance. The truth was he wanted to grab her hand and haul her out of here.

  Sarah leaned down and lifted a thin wooden box.

  “What’s that?” Jake murmured to Marcus.

  “The family wand.” His voice held a note of awe. “It’s made of Irish bog oak and was crafted more than three centuries ago. A Connelly witch went out after lightning struck the tree and took a broken limb while it was still warm. Thunderstorms are rare in Ireland, so this was a significant event. It took her months to craft the wand and imbue it with power.”

  Sarah carefully lifted the wand out of the box and gripped it firmly.

  “I can smell the magic from here, kind of hot and sweet,” Jake said. “Amazing.”

  The wand tapered like a candle, the wood black with a beautiful grain. When Sarah lifted and swept the wand through the air, the wood pulsated. She stepped into the center of the circle.

  “Join hands.” Her shoulders straight, Sarah reminded Jake of one of his colonels. Like him, she wore the mantle of leadership well.

  The women twittered. That was the only word Jake could put to the soft sound of their excitement. He could feel their exhilaration and something else, something that smelled just a little off, like wet ashes. The hot spots the forensic techs had marked had cooled, but were still warmer than the rest of the room. He thought Dr. Burns was right to have warned Sarah to stop, but it was too late now.

  Sarah’s wand slashed through the darkened air. The women’s murmurs faded. Jake watched as each witch centered herself. Brenna closed her eyes, and he could see that she gripped Doris’s and Maggie’s hands.

  Sarah let her head drop to her chest. When there was silence, she raised her head and looked at each witch in turn, her gaze steady and strong.

  Jake felt power stir the air.

  Sarah’s voice rang clear as a bell. “What once was whole now is shattered; what once was ordered is now scattered.”

  She raised the wand. The end glowed in a small circle that grew with each word she spoke. “We gather our power, full and free, to bring back together piles of debris.”

  She swept the wand in a wide arc and light bloomed from its tip.

  “As we will, so mote it be.”

  A whoosh of light swept out of the wand and around the room. Glass began to rise in small circles and pieces began to assemble into crystals, candelabras, mortars and pestles. Soon items were lining the shelves and filling various racks. Jake watched in stunned silence as the store reassembled itself.

  He glanced at Brenna and his heart skipped a beat. She was breathtaking, her arms raised as she clasped the hands of the witches on either side of her. Her body glistened, much like the magic that had fallen like silver dust over his bed last night. His body responded to her with a primal heat that tightened his jeans. When she smiled, he thought he would explode with wanting her.

  The women continued to chant and Sarah held the wand up. Light poured out of it like liquid fire. As the chant rose, the room worked to right itself and the store began to look again like the homey, welcoming place it had been. The floor cleared of trash, and crystals sparkled from the strings that once more tied them to the ceiling.

  Jake was enthralled by the sight of Brenna and the power of the Connellys. He’d known New Mourne was a magical town; he’d just never seen that magic quite so alive. The sight was dizzying, he thought. It could enchant a man…

  Fighting a wave of dizziness, Jake heard Dr. Burns groan. Marcus murmured his wife’s name. Jake struggled to move, but like the men beside him, he was plastered to the wall. He felt like he was on the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair and gravity was chaining him.

  Darkness fell like a curtain. Someone screamed. In a flash of light, Jake saw Brenna on her knees beside one of the older woman. Doris, he thought.

  Calling on his tiger for strength, Jake broke free of whatever held him. He raced to Brenna’s side. Her hands were covered with blood as she applied pressure to Doris’s neck.

  “Get help,” she screamed at Jake. “She’s dying.”

  He grabbed the radio off his hip and called for an ambulance.

  Eva Grace knelt on Doris’s other side. She put her hand on top of Brenna’s and closed her eyes. Jake could see her lips moving. Brenna began to murmur in rhythm with her cousin. The pool of blood under the older witch stopped growing. Delia dropped down beside Brenna and took over the pressure on Doris’s neck. Brenna sagged back, her shirt wet with perspiration.

  Jake pulled her to her feet. “Are you okay?”

  Brenna shook her head. “She can’t die. She just can’t.”

  A siren sounded in the distance and Maggie ran outside. The rest of the coven joined hands, voices rising in a chant that Jake couldn’t understand. Ancient words. Healing magic.

  A wave of power rippled through the room. Frances fell to her knees, clutching her chest.

  Beside her a woman dressed in white rose up from the wooden floor. She was blond and pale. Her features were beautiful, yet terrifying. Exactly as Brenna had described her to him.

  The Woman in White.

  She pointed at Sarah.

  Sarah raised the wand. “Leave us be. You’ve taken enough from our family. No more.”

  “I will have my tribute,” the ghost roared. “I will have what is mine.”

  Before Jake could grab her, Brenna wrenched away from him and took Sarah’s hand. A streak of fire pushed out of the wand.

  The ghost flitted back. “Damn you, Sarah Connelly, I will have what is mine!”

  Sarah pulled the wand back against her chest. With one hand still joined with Brenna’s she again swept the wand forward. Small balls of magic pelted the ghost.

  The Woman shrieked in pain, an awful sound that pierced Jake’s skull. He winced and saw Brenna stagger.

  But she didn’t fall. She held tight to Sarah. When the wand flashed again, there was a loud pop. The ghost was gone.

  Brenna and Sarah fell against each other, gasping. The wand’s light disappeared.

  Paramedics burst through the doors before Jake could reach Brenna’s side. He made sure they were taking care of Doris and directed them to take a look at Frances, as well.

  As he turned, looking for Brenna, he saw Fiona behind the counter. She was backed up in the corner, holding a pair of ritual knives in front of her, like weapons. He strode toward her. “What is it? Are you all right?”

  Brenna pushed past him and reached out to her sister. “Give me the knives, Fiona. You’re okay.”

  “No, I’m not.” Fiona surrendered the knives without protest, but her teeth were chattering as she stared at Brenna. “Aunt Celia just appeared to me. She said there is a traitor among us.”

  Brenna’s terror was palpable. Like Fiona, she began to shudder. “No,” she whispered. “It can’t be.”

  The only thing Jake could think to do was wrap both of them in his arms.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The ambulance took Doris to three-year-old Mourne County Hospital. The medical facility’s land and building had been donated by the developer of The Enclave. A coalition of new and old residents had joined together to raise funds for equipment and other necessities. The hospital was a private enterprise, but there was an agreement with the county about providing necessary care for all citizens.

  Though she had mixed feelings about The Enclave, tonight Brenna welcomed the hospital built because of the residents who lived in the “exclusive gated community nestled in the serenity of the mountains.” She was
n’t sure Doris would have survived the trip to hospitals in nearby communities or a medical helicopter flight to the trauma center in Chattanooga.

  The hospital had a specialist board certified as a surgeon and a plastic surgeon. He had moved his practice from Atlanta. Everyone knew he made a good living with women from the city and The Enclave who liked the privacy they found in New Mourne for their facelifts and breast augmentations. The town was blessed because he and the associates in his practice were also willing to address traumas such as what had happened to Doris tonight.

  After Fiona was calmed down at Siren’s Call, Jake learned from his dispatcher that Doris was in surgery. He drove Brenna and Fiona to join the rest of the coven at the hospital. In a small waiting room, their despair was so heavy it felt alive. Brenna couldn’t remember ever hearing of an injury when the coven was together working their magic with one goal in mind.

  Sarah, looking frail, was huddled with Frances. Marcus sat on the elder aunt’s other side, holding her hand. Doris’s twin had been shaken up by her fall after the Woman in White appeared, but paramedics found no injuries. Besides, Brenna knew it would take a lot to keep Frances from her family while they waited for news of Doris.

  Though she had tried to clean up a little before they left the shop, Brenna’s clothing was soaked in Doris’s blood. Crimson stained under her nails, and she had a smear of blood on one forearm. So much blood, she remembered, as she closed her eyes and murmured a blessing for Doris. She was terrified the older woman would die before help arrived. If Eva Grace had not been, there the outcome could have been much different.

  Her cousin was also still bloody, but, as expected, she did a much better job cleaning herself up than Brenna had. The redhead was sitting with Diane and Estelle, their hands joined as they chanted in low voices.

  Delia’s jeans and peasant top were less bloody than her daughter’s or her niece’s, but the bleeding had slowed when she took over for Brenna with Doris.

  Her mother had surprised Brenna tonight with her quick and calm action. I don’t know her well enough to expect anything from her. The thought made Brenna frown. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know Delia.