The Silent Goddess: The Otherworld Series Book 1 (7 page)

It had been close, too close.  One moment his gut was seized tightly in the ugly grip of unwarranted jealousy and the next he was inches away from kissing her.  He could not forgive himself for either emotion.  He had growled; growled like the angry beast that still inhabited a piece of his soul, and not just once but twice.  It had taken every ounce of control he could muster not to rip Griffin off Annie and pummel him until the beast inside him stopped raging.  He had held on and quickly realized the other man was testing him instead of holding her the way he would have it was brotherly and protective, not a man staking his claim.

He had been so relieved, almost giddy, that he had almost forgotten about his curse.  She was chatting away and all he could do was sit and listen to the lovely sound of her voice.  Such a simple thing yes, but it was something he had not realized he missed so much.  When he finally replied to one of her comments his words just seemed to flow out of his mouth.  It was the way she had looked at him, No more like the way she used to look at him before…

Luckily fate had intervened and stopped him from making a tragic mistake.  He had no idea what kind of pain the curse would cause, just the memory of the physical pain he had endured during his vision.  If that was what the curse invoked he would never touch her again no matter how much he wanted to.  Pain meant little to him, but he would never allow himself to cause her pain.  He had to try harder to keep his distance and to keep his feelings in check.  Judging by how things were going so far he was failing miserably, and he feared the more time he spent around her the harder it would become not to tempt the power of the curse.

The rest of Annie’s dinner party had gone smoothly.  They all ate and talked; sipped on wine and joked with each other.  As the evening wore on he found himself enjoying their company.  The four of them had created a bond with three of them orbiting one.  None of them seemed aware of what they were doing; but as Duncan sat back and observed he began to notice it more and more, they were protecting her.  More than once he caught one of them glancing into the shadows, like they were watching and waiting for something dangerous to appear out of them.  Duncan was sure two of them were druids.  Kat and Griffin shimmered silvery; in fact Duncan was almost positive Griffin was the druid he had seen controlling the mist earlier that morning.  He decided to put his theory to the test.

“Since you’re all practicing witches,” he began.  “Can you think of a reason someone would be practicing magick early this morn?”

His eyes shot to Griffin as the man squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.  Kat and Griffin exchanged nervous glances while Robert feigned interest in a nearby bush.  Annie instantly became angry and immediately jumped to her feet and pointed an accusing finger at Griffin.  The man shot him an angry glare and Duncan who tried to look as innocent as possible, all the while doing a happy internal jig. 

Paybac
k, he thought. 

“You promised you wouldn’t,” Annie hissed at Griffin.

Griffin raised his hands in an attempt to calm Annie.  “In my defense you are not the only one on this street that has been bothered by that little shit.”  His eyes filled with hatred as he ground out those last words.  “In case you forgot there was damn near a street fight out here the other night.”

Duncan sat up straighter, and leaned forward, his interest more than peaked, and he needed to know more.  “What is goin’ on?” he asked quietly.

“It’s nothing really,” Annie muttered in reply.

Duncan ignored her and asked the question again.  This time he directed it at Griffin.  Griffin hesitated a moment then refocused his attention on Duncan.  “There’s this ass hat that lives next to Kat,” he said giving the woman nestled on his lap a squeeze.  She patted his hand comfortingly in return.  “He’s a menace, and that’s putting it lightly.  At first he was just a pest.  Now,” he said sighing.  “Well let’s just say he won’t’ be a problem anymore.”

Duncan nodded at the other man silently thanking him for taking care of what he could not.  He wondered if that was what they were all on alert about.  He would have to keep an eye out for the human.  Duncan glanced over his shoulder up at his window where he knew Knackers would be watching and listening.  He caught Annie watching him; he saw her squinting into the darkness at his window.  He saw the curtain quickly shut and hoped she had missed it.  She wasn’t ready to meet Knackers just yet.

“Is there somebody up there?  She asked still squinting up at his window.

“Just my cat, Knackers,” he explained.

Just then a loud crash, followed by what Duncan could have sworn was a yelp came from inside Annie’s house.  All their heads turned at the sound but it was Robert who broke the tension.

“Yep!  Definitely a Brownie.”

Chapter Six

A Walk in the Willows

Morning came too early for Annie.  The early morning sun lit up her bedroom and poked incessantly at her closed eyelids. She let out a groan as she threw her arm over her eyes in a feeble attempt to shut out the bright light pouring in through her window.  Sleep had come in short bursts last night and had been peppered with scattered images that although had persistently haunted her last night refused to be recalled now as her consciousness took over her groggy mind.  She pushed the memory of dreaming aside and begged for sleep to return.  After floundering in her bed for a few more minutes she realized falling back to sleep was futile.  What she needed was a shower and an unhealthy amount of caffeine, and not necessarily in that order.

Her eyes refused to open properly as a thick crusty substance had apparently decided to cake itself to her upper and lower eyelashes.  She shuffled into the kitchen half blind, fumbling her way over to the coffee maker.  It was then that her nose woke up.  She sniffed the air around her again and realized that her nose had not lied, there was already coffee brewing.  A groggy, “Humph” escaped her scratchy throat.  She didn’t remember setting the timer on her coffee maker; maybe Kat had done it for her.  She shrugged, not caring too much about how the coffee had come into being she was just grateful it was made and ready to be ingested.

A few stumbling moments later a steaming cup of the elixir of life in her hand she was shuffling around her bathroom twisting knobs and preparing a scalding shower.  She carefully sipped at her coffee while she rubbed at her eyes in an attempt to rid them of the sticky goo that insisted on clinging to her eyelashes.  Steam began to fill her closet sized bathroom as she abandoned her clothes and coffee and stepped into the blissfully hot steaming water.

An eternity later Annie was scrubbed, dressed and on her third cup of coffee as she emerged from her house.  She squinted up into the clear blue sky frowning at the sun that had decided to wake her a good hour before her alarm clock usually would.  Her job as a tour guide required her to keep strange hours.  Tours, like most of the business in town, did not begin operations until late morning carrying on throughout the day and sometimes well into the night.  Tonight was one of those nights for Annie.  She had promised another tour guide that she would cover his ghost tour that evening.  She blew out a breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding, she hated doing ghost tours.  She preferred her little historic walks that informed the tourists that there was more to Salem than just witches.  Of course that’s what made Salem a hot tourist attraction; one incident in history had branded Salem as the witch town. 

Now no matter where you looked you were reminded that witches, innocent women really, once roamed the streets.  The iconic image of a witch riding on her broom was everywhere from tee shirts and mugs to the high school mascot and even painted on the side of police cruisers.  But at least that was part of history, the ghosts were not.

Ghosts were simply a product of overwrought imaginations that tried to find a supernatural answer when a mundane one would fit.  Phantom smells, sudden temperature drops, shadows and whispers all had logical explanations.  In Annie’s skeptical mind there was no such thing as ghosts.  It was this belief that made leading a ghost tour such a chore for her.  She had the script down pat and even added a little of her own spin to it.  It wasn’t the tour itself that she minded; it was the never ending supernatural questions that always plagued a ghost tour.

“
Do you believe in ghosts?”

“
Yes,”
she would lie.  Because honestly why would a non-believer in the supernatural be leading a ghost tour.

“Have you ever seen a ghost?”

“Yes right here were we are standing…”
another lie for the tourists.  Then she would spin a tale more based in folklore than in actual truth.  It was a talent she had inherited from her father who was a professor of folklore and mythology at a small college in upstate New York.

These were the usual question that were always asked on every tour usually by some husband or boyfriend that had been dragged on the tour by his wife or girlfriend who was a firm believer. Following Annie’s made up answer the men were usually smacked and given an ‘I told you so look’.  Tourists were nothing if not predictable.

Annie began massaging her temples that were throbbing already at the impending migraine the ghost tours seemed to bring on; coupled with the fact that sleep had been hard to come by the night before meant Annie was going to need more than her usual dosage of caffeine followed by more than a few beers at the pub later that evening.

Annie sighed as she placed her Henry the eighth mug on her bistro table.  It could stay there until she got home later, she just didn’t feel like going back inside.  She adjusted the strap on her messenger bag she had purchased the week before at the Army and Navy store and ran through its contents to make sure she had everything she needed for the day and night looming in front of her.  Wallet, keys, her mini pocket knife, a bottle of water, and a book she had been trying to read for weeks and a few rice cakes for when hunger struck, all the essentials were nestled safely inside her bag.  Satisfied she latched the bag and checked her apparel.  Pink converse were comfortably molded to her feet, above them dark jeans hung nicely on her long legs, luckily free on any stains since she and a nasty habit of dropping food on her lap.  She had donned a comfortable plain black tee shirt and covered it with a thigh length light weight cardigan that belted around her waist.  She was sure the sweater would be stuffed in her bag at some point during the day. Living by the ocean had taught her that the forever shifting winds could mean a warm day but a much cooler night.  She stood on her tip toes trying to get a last minute look at her reflection in the window.  Her strawberry blonde hair was knotted on top of her head and as far as her makeup went it appeared to still be in place and doing a decent job of hiding the dark circles under her eyes.  Satisfied that she was ready to face the day she adjusted her bag onto her left hip and exited her tiny garden and stepped onto Orange Street.

A light breeze wafted up from the ocean a few hundred feet down the street.  Annie inhaled deeply as she walked savoring the salty air.  When she had rented her tiny house she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have found such a gem.  It was nestled neatly in between Essex and Derby Street which made almost anywhere in town easily walkable.  The red line which cut and curved its way through town to guide tourists past all the historical locations passed right outside her bedroom window.  Some people would be put off by tourists traipsing up and down the street, but Annie thought it added to the charm of the house’s location.  She passed by Brookside manor and waved at a small group of elderly ladies enjoying their late morning coffee.  The exclusive home for elderly ladies was one of the many stops on her Historical tour.

She reached the end of Orange Street and out of habit checked both ways even though at this point Derby Street became a one way street.  She knew all too well, that more than one tourist had driven the wrong way down Derby Street; she did not want to become a statistic.  Then she quickly crossed the street and paused on the edge of the freshly mowed grassed of Pickering Wharf.

The tide was coming in and the wind was coasting over the ocean carrying more salty scented air.  Annie loved the wharf.  During colonial times it had been the busiest harbor in America.  Ships from all over the world would unload their exotic wares right here on these very shores then loaded them into horse drawn wagons to be shuttled across the street to the Customs House.  Annie loved that she lived just feet from real historical places and would often wonder what the wharf would have looked like in its heyday.  She shielded her eyes from the flare bouncing off the ocean and cursed herself for forgetting her sunglasses.  Maybe if there was time in between tours she could snag a pair from one of the local shops.

A dog splashing in the shallow waves caught her attention.  Its owner was walking along the muddy shore, head down looking at the ocean garbage the incoming tide was depositing on the shore.  Annie could imagine the strange little treasures littered around the owner’s feet; pieces of clam shells and crabs, bits of sea glass and of course garbage.  If they were lucky they’d find bits of ancient broken pottery that Annie liked to call pirate tea.

A high pitched screeched sounded over head as seagulls circled around the Friendship, a replica sailing vessel that would soon open to visitors interested in Salem’s maritime history.  A small group of children sat on the tiny dock next to the Friendship.  Their little legs dangled over the edge of the dock kicking and swinging.  Annie could see their bare little feet were covered in drying sand and ocean muck.  Their clothes seemed oddly dark for children but they could just be wet from an early morning romp in the harbor.  They raised their dirty little hands and waved at her.  Annie waved back and realized she could tell they were covered in muck but couldn’t get a really good look at their little faces.  Every time she tried to concentrate on their features her vision would get blurry.  It wasn’t until tears started to well in her eyes that she realized she had been staring without blinking for a while.  She blinked a few times and tears streamed a path down her face threatening to ruin her make up.   She dug into her pocket for a tissue to prevent further damage all the while thinking of the strange three children sitting on the dock Why was it she felt she should recognize them?

“
Ratboys,
” something or someone whispered.  Annie spun around looking for the source of the whisper.  Besides the dog and his owner no one was around.

“Meow”

Annie looked down and found a shaggy, charcoal gray cat seated at her feet, its green eyes blinking lazily up at her.

“Did you say something?” she asked the cat who merely replied with a long meow.  Annie shook her head.  She must be more sleep deprived than she thought.  Not only was she talking to the most disheveled cat she had ever seen but she had accused it of speaking.

Deciding she had dawdled enough and in desperate need of more coffee Annie left the cat, the wharf and the Ratboy/children behind and headed for the small coffee shop on the corner.  She had just made it a few yards past the Friendship to where two swans were gracefully swimming when she had the distinct feeling she was being followed.  She stopped and cautiously turned her head.  The glint of the sunlight caught something shiny and drew her attention.  It appeared to be coming from the swans.  Annie squinted trying to get a better look.  What she saw, or rather what she thought she saw was a thin silver chain hanging around both of their necks.  She shook her head trying to clear her vision and looked again.  There was definitely something around both of their necks but now she wasn’t sure what it was.  Again there was something familiar about the swans and silver necklaces she just couldn’t seem to place the memory.  Another loud meow sounded behind her.  Annie frowned as she looked down to find the large gray cat back at her feet looking even more rumpled than before.

“Go on, go home,” she said making shooing motions with her hands.  “My morning has been weird enough.  I don’t need a feline stalker.”

The cat meowed loudly in a way that Annie interpreted as outrage.  She huffed at the thought of offending a cat and wondered if she should substitute alcohol for caffeine to make it through the rest of the day.

“Look,” she said pointing at the cat.  “I have not slept well.  Between weird dreams and strange sexy neighbors I tossed and turned all night.  As a matter of fact for all I know I’m still dreaming,” she practically shouted.

“Who are you screaming at now?” The familiar voice of Kat asked.

Annie jumped; startled she whirled around and looked down at her friend.  Kat was dressed in a black summer dress and flip flops.  In her hands she held a cardboard tray stuffed with ice cold caffeine packed drinks.  Whereas Annie usually stuck to just her morning caffeine fix Kat would suck down gallons of iced coffee during the day.  It was her friend’s personal drug of choice.  Annie relieved Kat of one of the beverage and quickly sucked down a few gulps before answering, “A cat.”

Kat peered around her,” I don’t see anything.”

Annie looked behind her.  Apparently her stalker had gotten the hint and had hurried home.  “There was this scraggily looking cat following me.  You must have scared him off.”

Kat rolled her eyes before trying to steal the iced coffee back from Annie.  Annie turned slightly holding the cup of out of Kat’s reach.  Annie stood a good head and shoulders taller than Kat there was no way she was getting the drink back and Kat knew it.  She sighed in defeat and stuck her tongue out in one last rebellious act.

“Since when do you drink iced coffee?” she asked shooting an accusing stare at Annie.

“Since now,” Annie replied sticking her tongue out at Kat.  “My usual dosage isn’t working this morning.  I had weird dreams that kept me up most of the night.

A sly smile spread across Kat’s face.  “Did they happen to revolve around a certain smokin’ Scotsman?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows up and down. Annie blew out a sigh and began walking leaving               Kat to catch up.  “So did they, come on spill,” she demanded.

“I wish,” Annie admitted.  Annie thought back to last night and the few moments they had been alone.  She felt drawn to him in a way that she could not describe. It was as if she had known him forever.  She was attracted to him, his voice and those strange blue gray eyes that seem to draw her in and hold her captive.  She remembered how close they came to kissing and how much she wanted, no needed to kiss him.  Even now just the thought of kissing him made her crave the physical contact even more.  She frowned at the thought of kissing a perfect stranger; it was something she had never done.