Son of a Witch

by K. J. Emrick

  Son of a Witch

  Kilorian Sisters: A Witches of Shadow Lake Mystery Book 3

  K. J. Emrick

  S. Joseph Wells

  First published in Australia by South Coast Publishing, February 2018. Copyright K.J. Emrick (2012-18)

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and locations portrayed in this book and the names herein are fictitious. Any similarity to or identification with the locations, names, characters or history of any person, product or entity is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

  - From a Declaration of Principles jointly adopted by a Committee of the American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  All information is generalized, presented for informational purposes only and presented "as is" without warranty or guarantee of any kind.

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  Contents

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  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  More Info

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

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  Prologue

  October was a fine time to be a witch.

  Sure, it was a cliché, but it was one that Adair Kilorian—Addie to her friends—was happy to indulge herself in. In just under two weeks there would be costume parties and trick-or-treating and they would observe the old traditions on the thirty-first as they celebrated Samhain. She hummed to herself, in great spirits just thinking about it. After all, a girl needed to indulge herself sometimes. For Addie, that time was Halloween.

  She sat back on her heels, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of a gardening glove. It was warm for fourteenth of October. The forecast was for temperatures in the sixties for the rest of the week. Warm enough for her to be comfortable in a t-shirt and an old pair of jeans as she worked her trowel into the soil. Most people would be closing up their gardens by now, if they hadn’t already. Addie and her sisters weren’t most people.

  Being a witch was a lot more than casting love spells and hanging crystals, or wearing dark makeup and black dresses with chokers. Addie didn’t even like dark makeup. With her fair complexion and her freckles and her fiery red hair, she was more of a spring tone. No, that stuff was for wannabes and people who had watched The Craft one too many times. Being a witch was a state of being, where you were in tune with God’s creation all around you. It meant knowing the habits of every living thing, and giving back to them as much as you took. It meant using the Life Essence within you and respecting its power. And, it meant having a basic understanding of plants and herbs and all growing things.

  Which was how she knew that you could plant things in October, like Hellebore.

  In the back yard of their home, Stonecrest, Addie had added a whole row to the garden. She had dug a trench down a good three inches, the rich black soil turning easily under her tools, clinging to her gloves and the bare skin of her arms. There was already a patch of the perennial evergreen growing here, right next to where she was going to plant the new seeds. These would bloom in the Spring. Just in time to be harvested.

  The Hellebore plant had a long and storied history, both dangerous and helpful. The plant was toxic if not prepared right. In fact, it had been speculated that Alexander the Great died of Hellebore poisoning while being treated for an illness. On the other hand, Europeans in the distant past used a preparation of it to treat hysteria.

  Modern day homeopaths swore by it.

  Mostly, any use of Hellebore for medicinal purposes wasn’t worth the trouble because the health risks far outweighed the benefits. It was toxic, after all, but Addie wasn’t harvesting it for medicine. There was a much better use for Hellebore.

  Magic.

  With the right recipe, Hellebore was the basis for an invisibility spell that she was just dying to try out. There were times when she definitely loved being a witch.

  She took a moment in the middle of carefully pushing the seeds into the ground to admire the flowers next to the new row. They were beautiful and unique in the way their five petal-like sepals opened up to reveal a ring of delicate, nectar-filled stamens. Purple flowers with dark rims, all reaching for the sun. She was partial to the purple ones… although, she would prefer red. How beautiful would those be? Unfortunately, no one had created a true red strain yet. With a little crossbreeding, Addie was confident she would be the first.

  From not far away, Doyle cleared his throat.

  “Why are you spending so much time on flowers?” he asked as he rolled over in the grass, swishing his tail in the sun. “It’s not even catnip. I told you we should plant catnip.”

  Addie smiled patiently for the black and white tomcat. “You also told us we should be planting rice, if you remember. Now, what possible use would rice be for us?”

  He twisted up onto his front paws and flicked his whiskers, obviously thinking the answer to that one should be as plan as the nose on his face. “Last year it rained so much that patch of our lawn over there was underwater, if you recall. Rice grows best in flooded fields. But sure enough, no one ever listens to the cat.”

  With his three black feet and his one black ear, Doyle appeared to be just another cat. Except when he talked, but he was smart enough to keep that to himself whenever any Typics were around. That was the name for people without magical powers. ‘Typics.’ It was kind of a derogatory term, and not one that Addie liked using, but it summed things up pretty well. People without powers were just typical humans.

  Doyle didn’t have any magic powers himself. Other than being able to talk, of course. He wasn’t the only talking cat in her life, but that was a whole story unto itself.

  “I’m almost done here,” Addie promised him. “After that we can go inside and I’ll get you something to eat.”

  “Oh, yes please. A bit of fried fish would surely hit the spot.”

  “Uh, sorry. No fish. It has to be something quick because my sisters and I have to go to the town meeting tonight. The town manager election is coming up. Tonight is debate night.”

  His tai
l flicked. “Politics. Never did understand it all. Even back when I had hundreds of slaves doing me every whim, I never got the politics part.”

  Addie chuckled under her breath. Doyle’s Irish accent rang out clear and crisp whenever he talked about being descended from feline royalty, even more so than usual. She indulged his stories because for all she knew they really were true. He was a brave cat, in his own way. Who was she to say he didn’t have a dozen past lives where he was just as important as he thought he was?

  She came by her own accent naturally. Just part of her heritage.

  “This is Shadow Lake,” she reminded him. “We’re a small town, with small town political issues. We’re not the big city. It’s not like anything happening here is going to change the world.”

  Doyle narrowed his eyes at her. “We’re a town full of witches and shapeshifters, sitting on a well of magical energy that every big baddy within a thousand miles would give their left whiskers to possess. Hardly the sort of small town you see on Christmas cards.”

  “True,” she admitted, slapping the rest of the dirt off her gloves. “I’m done here. Let’s go and get you something to eat. You and Domovyk.”

  “Mrow. If we have to, I suppose.”

  “Come on. You like Dom.”

  “Oh, sure I do. He’s just a bit of a chancer sometimes, is all.”

  Addie didn’t bother to argue. Domovyk, the big black cat who used to be the familiar of a very evil witch, was a recent addition to the Kilorian family. He and Doyle had this sort of uneasy truce going between them. They weren’t enemies, but they weren’t exactly friends either. Domovyk was his own kind of royalty, apparently, and that gave the two cats a common ground of sorts.

  May God save them, Addie thought to herself, from the ego of cats everywhere.

  There were just the three Kilorian sisters living in Stonecrest. Addie was the middle child, and Willow was the youngest, and Kiera was the oldest. Older than Addie by nearly twenty years, actually. Their parents had started their family early, and ended late.

  Kiera had been an old soul for years, always prim and proper, always wearing black dresses that covered her from neck to ankle, hiding a variety of scars that she was proud and embarrassed of at the same time. She rarely smiled, and she always looked serious. Although, to be fair, Kiera came by it naturally. She had endured a lot in her life. When their parents had died, it was Kiera who took over running the household and raising her two younger, teenaged sisters. And then there was the secret she had kept even from Addie for years, and only recently revealed. She’d had a baby, and given him up for adoption.

  That was two decades ago and more at this point. Kiera didn’t know where her Alan was now, but the sisters knew he was in trouble. There had been a brief vision a few weeks ago that told them he had been in a car accident, just outside of town, and they had been looking for him ever since…

  She looked up now, and to her surprise she saw Kiera walking down the hill from the house. It was as if she’d known Addie was thinking about her. She waved, but her sister did not wave back. Addie stopped where she was.

  Kiera looked like she’d just seen a ghost. Not entirely impossible considering the lives they led, but somehow Addie thought this was something else. Something was wrong, and in a town like Shadow Lake, that could mean anything. Usually not anything good.

  “Hmph,” Doyle groused, forgotten at Addie’s feet. “Looks like I’ll have to get my own dinner. No worries. I promise not to make a mess this time.”

  He bounded away, up the slope toward the house. Kiera didn’t even notice him as she trudged closer to Addie. Her eyes were wide. Her expression was unreadable.

  And, a small smile played over her lips.

  “Kiera?” Addie asked. “What is it?”

  “He’s here, Sister Addie. I don’t understand how, but he’s here.”

  That wasn’t exactly a helpful answer. “He? Who do you mean, Kiera? Who’s here?”

  “My…” She hesitated before saying it, but then her smile grew bigger and the words came rushing forth. “My son is here. Addie, it’s my son!”

  Addie, felt her own jaw drop. Of all the impossible things she could think of, that was probably the most impossible of them all.

  But then she looked up to the top of the hill and saw a man standing there. Even from this distance, she could see the striking resemblance to Kiera. This really was her son.

  Kiera had given Alan up at birth, for her own reasons, and she’d regretted it ever since. Since the vision of his accident she’d searched for him, and tried everything she could to find him, to no avail.

  Now here he was, standing in their backyard.

  Addie couldn’t believe it. Alan Pierson was home.

  Chapter 1

  The Shadow Lake town hall was one of the first permanent structures built on Main Street. It had been erected in the early 1800s, renovated in the 1930s, and then renovated again in the 1980s thanks to a budget surplus and a generous donation from the Raithmores. Even back then the Raithmores had been one of the two richest families in town and could easily afford the money that had provided for a new tin roof and repairs to the stone façade, as well as state of the art audio and visual equipment.

  State of the art for the 1980s, that is. By today’s standards… well, a transparency projector and Acoustic Energy speakers were just a little obsolete.

  The Raithmores had fallen from their high horse recently when one of the sons had killed his brother, and gone to prison for it. That left them with no heir to their legacy, but Addie noticed that it didn’t stop the patriarch of the family, Cavallo Raithmore, from attending the meeting to listen to the two manager candidates debate. Obviously he still had a little clout and influence in town.

  Inside the meeting room of the town hall, rows of folding chairs faced the stage at the front, where two podiums were set up, each with an attached microphone in the top. The heavy purple curtains were pulled to the sides and tied back with thick yellow cords. At different times of the year shows for the community were put on here. The Christmas nativity was a big draw, and once last year there had been a murder mystery play. Stuff like that. Today, the stage was for the two candidates.

  Addie frowned. If it wasn’t important for the Kilorian sisters to be represented at the meeting she would have stayed at home, at Stonecrest, and helped Kiera to welcome her son. That was far more important to her than listening to endless questions about parking meters and tourism dollars and who had the better plan to beautify the lakefront.

  She knew it was going to be exactly like that because she had been to two of these in her lifetime, once as a little girl, and then once three years ago when Madison Ash had tried to unseat Seth Hunter and failed at the polls. That had pretty much been a forgone conclusion. Seth Hunter had been a fixture in town for so long that it was hard to think of Shadow Lake without thinking of him. He’d been town manager for the better part of two decades.

  There were other notable residents here, milling in and out of the meeting room, sipping cups of sugary punch or munching on stale cookies. There was Constable Herman Bledsoe, a tall scarecrow of a man who the town selectman had hired to masquerade as a sort of policeman in that brown shirt and shiny badge. He took his duties seriously but everyone in Shadow Lake knew it was the Kilorian sisters who kept the people here safe. Well. Everyone except Herman. He honestly thought it was him. He glared daggers over at Addie whenever he thought she wouldn’t notice. His last interaction with her and her sisters had knocked him down a couple of pegs.

  Two of the selectman were supposed to be here for this, too. Maria Stiles was already sitting in one of the folding metal chairs of the front row. Her pretty face looked very, very bored as she crossed and uncrossed her legs in her blue pleated skirt. Her thin brown eyebrows were set in a frown. She had already checked her smartphone twice. She wanted this to be over as much as Addie did.

  Maria was actually what they referred to as the First Selectman, the head of
the town board. It was her job to watch over the town’s interests in general. Whenever there was trouble, it was Maria who brought the issues to the Kilorian sisters, either in person or through a messenger like the town constable.

  The other selectman who was supposed to be here was Mac McDougal. Addie looked around but didn’t see him. He shouldn’t be hard to miss, with those broad shoulders and that square face. That lumbering walk. That deliberate way of talking. Addie had heard him compared to Frankenstein’s monster, but she didn’t appreciate that kind of talk. Especially since she and her sisters had been the object of whispered gossip for most of their lives.

  Women with power were always the subject of rumors, and there were few women who had the kind of power that Addie and her sisters did.

  In a few minutes the room was full of the local business owners and the few others from town who were interested in this sort of thing. People began finding their seats and the room became noisy with murmured conversations.

  Addie just wanted to get back home. Once the debate was over there would be a quick meeting with the selectmen Mac and Maria, to discuss what each candidate had said. That would be where the real decisions were made. It was already a foregone conclusion that everyone would want to stick with Seth, but it was still a requirement that she be there. After that, Addie was going to head right back to Stonecrest.

  The seat next to her had been empty, but now someone sat down, leaning in close. “I have to admit,” he said, “I don’t understand the first thing about town politics.”