ATwistedMagick (16 page)

His smile grew sly. “Privacy’s good.”

“We’re not doing sex magick.”

“But you still work skyclad, don’t you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Well, I do always and we want this to work.”

“Look, you should do a couple things to get ready—walk the dog and rearrange so we have enough space, while I pull together all my tools and ingredients. Agreed?”

He glanced over at Baron who’d heard the word “walk” and was already over by the door. “How do you know what ingredients?”

“I’ll let the Goddess guide me. Don’t worry.”

Alain sighed and retrieved the dog’s leash from the coat rack. Baron immediately jumped and slobbered all over Alain, so Shylah used the distraction to escape. She had a few things in the kitchen, but most of what she needed was either in the solarium or the mudroom where she kept her dried herbs, tinctures and essential oils. When she heard the front door slam and the dog barking at every squirrel he passed outside, she went into her little room and pulled out her magical correspondences book, some candles and her essential oils.

Shylah had the idea that if she created a “compelling” oil and anointed one of the candles with it, she could add an unseen layer to the spell they would work on Wann. Any scent from the oil would be covered by the incense they were going to use for the main spell, which she also needed to put together.

“But first the oil,” she murmured, knowing she needed to get it made and on the candle to dry before Alain came looking for her. In a glass vial, she combined lavender, pine, clary sage and calamus root essential oils. She corked it and gently rocked it back and forth, chanting and directing her energy to charge the oil. Once mixed, she laid out the candles she wanted to use on her workbench—silver for clairvoyance, purple for hidden knowledge and psychic ability, and blue for wisdom and truth. A white pillar candle would be lit first and stand for north on the altar. Since her oil was meant to bring about truth, she anointed the blue candle with the oil and set it in a holder to dry. She bottled up the rest of the oil and tucked it away in a cupboard.

Baron Samedi’s bark and the sound of the front door opening and closing alerted her to Alain’s return, so she went into the solarium to retrieve her tools, preferring to keep their hiding space a secret. She put everything she needed into a basket to carry upstairs and heard the sound of moving furniture as she entered the kitchen again.

“How does this look?” Alain asked after Shylah had given Baron a bowl of water and come into the living room.

“Plenty of space. I use that little trunk there as an altar sometimes. I’ve got an altar cloth here.” She handed him the wide piece of black velvet. She preferred it without design so that it didn’t distract from the items on the altar, which she pulled out now. She arranged the cauldron for salt, an abalone shell for water, the chalice for wine, the candles, the incense censer and her pentacle tile. She lit the charcoal in the censer to give it a chance to heat while she added the respective ingredients to their containers.

“What kind of wine?” Alain asked.

“A Virginia red.”

“Keeping it local.”

“Yeah.” The white pillar candle representing north was situated at the top of the altar, but Shylah placed the other three directional candles on the floor for them to stand between and create the circle around.

“We should purify ourselves.”

Shylah startled because Alain had come up behind her as she’d straightened from setting down the last candle. “Huh?”

“Shower.”

“Oh…yeah.” She’d already shown Alain the guest room earlier so he could put his stuff away. She followed him up the stairs to the guest room. Once he was inside, she went to her room and started the water running. The showerhead was on the wall above the claw-footed tub and a shower curtain kept the water inside. As she stripped, she found herself smiling, thinking about Gabe and all the lovely things he’d done to her with his fingers. She wouldn’t mind him doing quite a few of those things again. She stepped into the steamy water and sighed as it hit her bunched muscles. She’d been tense all day, with another murder, another search warrant and an unexpected guest. On top of all that Alain was winding her up about how bad she had it here in Smith Creek and how good she’d had it with him in New Orleans. Why not just go back to the Big Easy where she could blend in with the eclectic crowd and practice her Craft as she wished?

She did love her little house and solarium here in Smith Creek, but there wasn’t anything else binding her to this town except that she didn’t want to leave under a cloud. If Gabe could prove Wann was the murderer, then she was free to go anywhere she chose. But she didn’t want to just go somewhere, she wanted to go home. Problem was, she hadn’t had a home since her parents died. She’d had her aunt’s coven and then Alain’s coven and quite a few different residences, but none of them had felt like home.

She closed her eyes and imagined her and Gabe in an old hammock in a backyard surrounded by a white picket fence with a toddler playing nearby in a sandbox. It was an image so out of tune with who she was that she almost giggled, yet the sense of belonging was the element that rang true.

She opened her eyes as she heard the shower curtain move. Alain stepped into the tub behind her. She shrieked. “What are you doing?” She tried very hard to keep her eyes on his face rather than any other part of him.

“We need to purify.” His voice had a creepy, dreamy quality to it.

“But we don’t need to do it together. Get out.”

He reached up and stroked her wet cheek and leaned in as if to kiss her. Shylah shifted position to avoid the kiss and turn off the water, but then his hands surrounded her waist and he pressed up against her ass. He had a hard-on. Without hesitation, Shylah flicked the curtain out of the way and stepped out of the tub. She grabbed the towel off the rack and practically leaped into the bedroom, well out of arm’s distance. She wrapped the towel around herself tightly, making sure nothing of importance was showing. It didn’t matter that he’d seen it before; it mattered that it was no longer his.

Alain followed her, dripping all over her carpeting. “Jesus, Shylah, when did you become such a prude?”

“You can’t just assume I’m going to have sex with you!”

“It was just a shower.”

“We were going to meet downstairs to do a ritual.”

“Sex magick is very powerful, you know that. How bad do you want to catch the murderer?”

“How bad do you want to pack up right now and go find a hotel for the night?”

He stared at her as if she’d grown another head as his hard-on shriveled.

“You’re getting my damn rug all wet.”

“Whatever.” He stalked out of the room, still naked and dripping.

Shylah sank down to her bed, realizing she was shaking. Why was she shaking? Alain was self-centered enough to assume they’d pick right back up where they’d left off, and he hadn’t continued to force his advances on her when it finally dawned on him that she didn’t agree. But there’d been something so weird about the way he’d said “purify”. She realized that she’d been scared, not just from the shock of him appearing behind her, but because for a moment she hadn’t known what he was going to do.

Maybe doing a ritual with him wasn’t the best idea.

She quickly patted herself down and dried her hair, then found her white ceremonial robe. At the very least she wasn’t doing anything skyclad.

Fifteen minutes later, she met Alain in the living room. He had on his black robe and refrained from mentioning the sex or clothing issue again. Instead, he handed her a slip of paper. “What do you think of this chant?”

Shylah nodded. They spent a few more minutes working out the wording for the spell. Finally Alain stood in front of the altar, while Shylah picked up her athame and moved in a clockwise circle encompassing him, the directional candles and the altar. She chanted in a low voice as she moved and completed her circle facing the altar again. She picked up an unlit taper, lit it from the center candle and then moved clockwise to the next candle on the floor.

“Hail to the Watchtower of the East, attend thee and protect our circle.” At the next candle she said, “Hail to the Watchtower of the South, attend thee and protect our workings.” She lit the last candle on the floor. “Hail to the Watchtower of the West, attend thee and strengthen our will.” Last, she turned back to the candle on the altar, extinguished her taper and laid it down again. She lifted her arms. “Hail to the Watchtower of the North, attend thee and offer us your protection and strength as we stand joined in this circle.”

Alain picked up his athame and raised it into the air. “We invite the Lord and Lady to witness and bless this circle.”

Shylah cupped the goblet of wine and brought it even with her chest.

Alain faced her. “I am the Horned One, your Lord.”

“I am the mother of all creation, your Lady.”

Alain brought his athame blade down slowly, slipping it into the wine.

“Blessed be,” they both said in unison. They sipped the wine and returned the chalice to the altar.

“We call forth the four elements—earth, water, fire and air. Bring your power and stability to our workings tonight,” Alain said. He sprinkled salt into the water.

Shylah sprinkled the incense over the hot charcoal. She put the cover down on the censer then walked around the circle swinging it lightly until the air smelled of resin and herbs. When she set it upon the altar again, she said, “So mote it be.”

Alain picked up Shylah’s Irish bodhran, a small drum with a double-headed stick, and started the beat, a heartbeat. They moved clockwise within the psychic circle and chanted the words they’d agreed upon. Gradually the beat grew faster and louder and they danced faster. Shylah felt her energy rise, felt almost giddy as she tried to keep pace with Alain. Thoughts disappeared as the magick swelled. They went faster and faster until they were almost tripping over their feet.

“Now!” Alain yelled. They stopped and threw their hands in the air, casting what Shylah thought of as a cone of power.

“
For the souls seeking justice--

Lalia, Matthew, Mercedes--

Let Gabe see

The facts required

to set them free.

So mote it be
.”

Alain clapped loudly. “Reveal!” And Shylah felt a whoosh as the magick intensified, swirled and left the building to find its target.

She collapsed to the floor, flattened her palms against the hardwood floor. “Whoa! I totally need grounding!” She’d almost forgotten the compelling oil until she looked around and noticed the tapers burning low.

Alain sat down across from her. “How do you feel?”

“Refreshed and in need of a nap at the same time.”

He took her hands. “Close your eyes.” She obeyed. “Lord and Lady, reveal to us the proof that Gabe needs to find.”

And instantly Shylah felt connected with Gabe. She saw through his eyes as he stared at a semi-darkened ranch house with a silver sedan in the drive.

* * * * *

Gabe was bored, something he was used to on stakeouts, but he was also anxious. Yeah, he was anxious to find some proof to nail Wann, but at the moment, the thing that was bothering him most was the fact that Shylah was home alone with her crazy ex. He couldn’t stop thinking about those sex magic scenes in her BOS and worrying that that’s what the two of them were doing right now. Since Wann still seemed to be sitting in his living room watching TV, Gabe was beginning to think he needed a new plan anyway. He needed a confession or a smoking gun. He needed something that would give the cops probable cause to get a search warrant.

Finally Wann’s living room light flicked off. A distant hall light came on, followed by the bedroom light, which leaked through heavy drapes. Time to risk a walk around the property. No dogs had barked so far during the stakeout, which was unusual in suburbia, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about drawing unwanted attention. He got out and carefully shut the car door to keep it from making noise. Then he skulked along the chain link fence to the carport, which was too cluttered to actually hold the car. Gabe shone a penlight inside. A white trellis separated the interior from the backyard, though the grass seemed uninterested in the dividing line. There was a lawnmower, grill, bike, cooler, patio chairs, hoses, garden pots and some brown boxes. Gabe crept up to the boxes and pointed the light inside. Seemed to be dishes.

The backyard was neatly mowed but very plain. There was a small raised back porch with steps that came down to a cement path. The path led to the door of a metal shed. Gabe tugged on the handle then realized it was padlocked, so he moved to the side where there was a small high window. It seemed uncovered, so he brought up the penlight to peer through. It looked like pages from a book were pinned to the wall, pages with square photos. A yearbook? Rakes and hand tools hung from pegs on the wall as well. He angled the light to the right. Was that a workbench?

Then something hit his head, something that clanged when it connected with his skull. A shovel. He dropped the light as he collapsed to his knees. Another strike and he felt warm blood on his cheek. Another and he was out.

* * * * *

Shylah screamed. She dropped Alain’s hands and touched her cheek, expecting to feel sticky blood there, but her cheek was clean and smooth. She opened her eyes. “Gabe’s in trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw it. Didn’t you see it?”

“No. I think you were in a trance or something.”

She stood, ready to bolt out the door, then realized she was in her robe. “Change. We’ve got to help him.” She didn’t wait to see if Alain would obey, but when she came out of her room dressed in street clothes, Alain was ready to go. “Get Baron Samedi. He can bite the bastard.”

Shylah dialed 9-1-1, said someone was in trouble and gave Wann’s address, then hung up so she could drive like a bat out of hell. Alain, who never wore seatbelts, decided to put one on. The dog howled in the backseat.

When they got to Wann’s house, which Shylah had been to on one of their dates, Gabe’s car was gone. The silver car, presumably Wann’s, was still in his drive. If Gabe had been knocked out, how could his car be gone? There were no lights visible in the house. Sirens blared in the distance. Alain and the dog got out of the car. “We’ll check around outside. Where did you see it happen?”