Pretty Witches All in a Row (31 page)

“I would have absolutely no problem with that part of the ritual, don’t change any of it on my account,” Nick gave a wolfish grin.

“Maybe some other time when we don’t have something so serious in the balance,” she smiled, brushing her lips against his lightly.   

“It’s a date.”

Chapter Sixteen

A turkey sandwich later, Nick was back on her couch, flipping through a copy of a dream interpretation book he’d found by Annaliese’s bedside.  It was fascinating really, though he rarely remembered what he dreamed.  It boggled his mind, the connections the book made between commonplace themes and the psyche.  Was there anything to it or were they looking to make a quick buck? 

“I see you found something to keep occupied,” Annaliese commented, returning freshly scrubbed and wearing a simple white nightdress. 

An interesting choice by his way of thinking, he’d been expecting something a little more elaborate.  Nick simply nodded in response, taking to heart his promise to behave, he surreptitiously watched her over the top of his book. 

Annaliese moved a chair and ottoman into her bedroom, creating enough floor space for her purposes.  A large rectangle of dark green cloth was spread out on the floor next, and she spent a few moments getting its alignment just right, though to what purpose he couldn’t guess.  Next a shallow metal plate, the type he’d seen at fancy dinners underneath the regular china plate was placed onto the fabric and he could see coarse sand filling the bottom.  One of those little six inch cauldrons was placed on top of it, but Nick couldn’t make out what the contents were, it looked like a brown hunk of… something.  A glass jar filled with a green fluffy herb sat to her left with a tightly wound bundle of green stems next to it. 

Very carefully Annaliese poured a line of ordinary table salt around the cloth in a circle. “This will be for my protection, so that anything I tap into out there won’t follow me back.” 

“Um, does that mean it’ll be out here with me?” Nick frowned at the notion, forgetting his intent to remain silent.

“No, you should be safe; I’ll be the one establishing a thread of contact with it.  Like I said, this should be pretty boring for you to watch.  Over all, it’ll look like I’m sitting here meditating on the flames.”

Nick eased at once, settling on the couch where he could watch her from a comfy vantage point.  Idly he wondered, how long it would take?   Since she kept using the word ‘boring’ he didn’t think it would be over as quickly as the pendulum thing.  As he looked on, Annaliese settled onto the green fabric in front of the cauldron, tensing a little as she looked directly at him, her expression unreadable.  His mouth opened to ask her if there was something she needed, but in the same instant she dropped him a wink, the corner of her lips tilting up into a smile before her eyes slid shut.  Inhaling deeply, a low tone emanated from her throat as she exhaled long and slow.

* * *

Annaliese breathed deep, trying her best to block Nick’s presence from her mind and focus on the task at hand when she opened her eyes.  Picking up the glass jar, she removed a small clump of the mugwort, rubbing it along the inside of the small metal cauldron.  For good measure she distributed the rest of the fluffy clump onto the sand surrounding the cauldron.  Raising her right hand, she held it over the cauldron, focusing her energy until the little piece of Duraflame firelog inside caught fire, the blue flame dancing along the top of the pressed wood. 

Next she picked up the bundle of herbs, igniting it in the fire.  The pleasant smell of burning sage called to mind many past rites, and she instantly felt more at peace with its scent hanging in the air.  After the area was thoroughly smudged with the purifying herb, she set it aside on the charger plate.

There were ways to make it a more formal ritual, calling the quarters, invoking the God and Goddess, putting words to her will, but Annaliese preferred to keep things simple when she worked on her own.  Instead she focused on grounding herself to begin with, visualizing her own energy extended deep down into the earth, similar to the roots of a tree.  Only then did she focus on the flames. 

Annaliese gazed into the small fire, focusing with her intent rather than straining with her eyes as she studied the depth of the flames.  Keeping her breathing slow and even, she pushed her focus deeper into the flame, becoming a part of it.  Everything else faded to black, no sound reached her save the crackle of the fire; which to her sensitive ears sounded as huge as a bonfire.  How long she sat there staring into the flames, she wasn’t entirely sure, but when she could maintain that connection without having to work at it, she focused on the exact way the last dream made her feel.

Casting her mind back, she recalled the water closing over her head, hands pressing against her, the sharp tang of fear.  The flames faded away, and Annaliese could see the ripple of water as she thrashed, feel the hard cast iron tub, the cold water enveloping her.  The image of the person holding her under was blurry through the water, but she could tell that it was a woman.  Slowly, Annaliese reached out with her will to try and rise above the water and gain a clearer view.

In a flash, Annaliese’s perspective changed, jumping from victim to killer in an instant.  Now her own hands pushed the body into the water, the scent of lemon verbena and ginseng perfumed the air around her as she chanted the incantation in a foreign tongue.  There was no malice, no anger, nothing but anticipation.  The moment the last breath left Seraphine’s body, she felt a thrill go through her and her own breath held until the last heartbeat. 

Without warning, a feeling of intense power coursed through her, and Annaliese felt her own physical body gasping even as her mind reeled with the immensity of it.  Still recovering from the effects, she felt the killer rise.  As she watched, the body she inhabited drained the bathtub and refilled it again with cold water.  Moving faster now, she swept up the pentacle on the floor laid out in black dirt, dumping it into the sink and rinsing it down the drain.  The sound of someone moving upstairs drew a moment of panic and then she slipped out the bedroom slider into the night air, triumphant and vibrating with energy. 

The vision slipped away and Annaliese took a deep shuddering breath, focusing on the flame again.  The successful scrying surpassed her every expectation.  At best she’d been hoping for a flickering image in the flames, or a fleeting clue.  Not to tap back into the actual murder and certainly not to experience it from the killer’s point of view!  Her body thrummed with an adrenaline response to the rush of energy that went though her at the moment of Seraphine’s death, and she began to have a faint inkling as to why her friends were being killed. 

While that last vision had been an incredible experience, she still had no clue as to the identity of the killer, other than it being a woman.  Letting out a shaky breath, she refocused to establish the link again.  This time she tried to push back farther, focusing on Meiliyn’s murder, thinking again about the hazy details of her dream.  With a start, she found herself directly in the killer’s body again, gasping at the sudden shift at the same instant the athame plunged into Meiliyn’s body. 

The same shocking course of power went through her, and while she was still recovering from that, the killer proceeded to make a series of other stab wounds, very methodical in their placement.  Again she was struck by the lack of malice in the emotions she was experiencing.  There was only the satisfaction of a job well done as she placed Mei’s body onto the bed and went on to vacuum up the pentacle drawn in dirt on the carpet.  Annaliese watched the casual destruction of the room as the killer knocked over the altar table and scattered its contents with an almost artistic flair.  There was the sense that the destruction was the tool, not the object. 

Slammed back into her body, Annaliese could feel her hands shaking now, resting lightly upon her knees.  Sucking in a greedy breath, she wondered if she dared make another attempt.  Already her heart was beating abnormally fast and she struggled to get it back under a regular rhythm.  Finally she accepted that this was as grounded as she was going to get, the anticipation adding its own nervous energy to her focus.  She pushed herself farther back, imploring the flames to show her something she didn’t already know about. 

Fully expecting to see Skye’s body next, surprise colored her vision of an unfamiliar place.  She stood in a large, expensive home; a dressing room or boudoir, she judged from the furnishings. 

A pretty girl with sable hair rolled in a 1940’s style lay on a chaise lounge, staring up at her with the dazed eyes of someone who had been drugged.  Clad in a satiny ivory gown, a celtic cross hung at her throat, worked in ornate silver.  She could see that the killer herself was dressed in similar clothing, but again there was no clue as to her identity.  The killer advanced, beginning that same chant in the unknown language, athame in hand, and Annaliese recognized it as the same dagger that had killed Meiliyn and likely Skye and Zoe as well.  The girl’s eyes went wide with shock and horror, as the knife plunged into her heart.  This time Annaliese braced herself for the wave of power she knew would be coming, but the rush of power that coursed through her that time was multiplied by tenfold.  She moaned at the intensity of it, unable to do anything but try and hang on to the vision.

Once the wave of power had passed, she felt stronger, invincible and Annaliese heard laughter bubbling from the killer’s throat.  With a chant in the same unrecognizable language and a wave of her hands, the girl’s body caught fire and the chaise lounge and nearby curtains became engulfed with flames.  Instead of fleeing, the witch whirled around and around in celebration, long, dark hair whipping around her head as she began her spiral dance. 

A heavy gold locket bounced and swayed with her and she picked up the ornate piece and brought it to her lips, kissing it.  Around and around she danced, and Annaliese became dizzy.  Losing her concentration; she lost the connection altogether, returning to her body with a jolt, head still spinning. 

Annaliese found her sitting room as she’d left it, the small bundle of sage still smoking faintly, the fire burning in the little cauldron.  Nick sat on the couch, his face slack as he’d evidently nodded off to sleep.  Without moving from her spot, she took several deep, cleansing breaths, focusing on grounding herself as best she could.  As an afterthought, she extinguished the fire and the smoldering sage.  She still felt a bit shaky and anxious to tell Nick what she’d learned, but Anna wanted to make sure she would make sense, not babble incoherently or worse, get light headed and pass out the moment she tried to stand up.

When she was reasonably sure that she wouldn’t embarrass herself, Anna climbed to her feet, wincing as her muscles protested after being in the same position for so long.  A quick glance at the clock showed that a just under an hour had passed since she’d first sat down within the circle.  Not wanting to wake Nick up yet, she passed him on the way to the bathroom to wash her hands and face, letting the cool, soothing water help ground her back into the present.  But there was no suppressing the glint of exhilaration in her eyes. 

* * *

Nick startled awake, momentary disorientation growing into confusion as he spotted the bare salt circle and no sign of Annaliese.  Not quite sure what to think, he bolted off of the couch, skirting the circle with care as he peeked into her bedroom.  “Annie?” he called out softly, frowning as he found no sign of her in there.  The tang of burning herbs still permeated the room though the fire was out now, leading him to believe wherever she was, she hadn’t been gone for very long. 

The sound of running water reached his ears as soon as he stepped out of the sitting room and Nick relaxed, leaning against the wall to wait for her to emerge.  Annaliese appeared a few minutes later, looking very pale, her emerald eyes wide and sparkling with exhilaration.  “I take it something happened besides you staring into the fire?” he cocked a single brow.

“I’ll say…”  Annaliese nodded exuberantly, her excitement clear.  “God Nick, it was like… I don’t know what it was like; I’ve never felt anything like that before.  It was better than a dream, I
was there
.  First for Sera’s death, then Meiliyn’s and then some other girl I’ve never seen before.  It was incredible!  I could feel everything the killer was feeling and…”

“Whoa, slow down there.”  Nick wrapped his arm around her as she practically thrummed with energy.  “Why don’t you come and sit down and tell me all about it.  In fact, why don’t we go downstairs, I’ll get you something to drink and we can talk it over?”  She acted almost like she was high, and he wanted to get her out of the room and away from that smoke where they could both think more clearly. 

“I am kind of hungry now,” she agreed easily enough and he steered them towards the stairs to the kitchen.

“I thought you might be, so I made you a sandwich.  I kept it fairly simple since I wasn’t sure what you like.  Then again, I figured you would like deli mustard and pickles if you had them in your fridge, was I wrong?”

“You made me a sandwich?  Aw, that’s so sweet.”  Annaliese smiled over her shoulder at him as they descended the stairs.  “I’m so hungry I probably won’t even notice what’s on it, but yes, I do like deli mustard and pickles, good call.”

She still seemed a little manic to him, but maybe that was just his worry talking.  “Yeah, it’s not that big of a deal, just a sandwich.  It’s not like I reached out and talked to the dead or anything.”

“Neither did I, really.  I tapped into the energy from those nights and the killer’s memories, though I’m still not entirely sure how that happened.  In fact, I’ve never heard of it happening during scrying.”

“Have a seat, I’ll get your sandwich, and what would you like to drink?”

“I don’t care, anything is fine.”   

Nick settled on cranberry juice since he didn’t think she needed anything caffeinated at that point.  Setting the food and drink before her, he took a seat at the kitchen table.  “So, slow down and tell me what happened from the top.”