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Authors: Shirley Damsgaard

Tags: #Horror & Ghost Stories

The Trouble With Witches (28 page)

BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
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I held up my hand. "Whoa—time out. What do you mean 'it' wants to attach itself to me? What's 'it'?"

Abby pursed her lips, thinking. "Some kind of
energy,
and that energy is centered on you."

I gave a nervous laugh. "You make it sound like I've got a bull's-eye painted on my back, or something."

"You do," Abby said in a no-nonsense voice.

Jumping to my feet, I paced the deck. "Well, that's just peachy, isn't it?" My hand went to the talisman amulet I wore around my neck. "What about this?" I said, drawing the necklace out. "Doesn't my amulet protect me?"

"To a degree, but the fire agate is more for danger coming from a human source."

I skidded to a stop.
"
Human source
as opposed to
nonhuman
source?"

Abby nodded. "I think so."

"A ghost?"

She chewed her bottom lip while she thought. "No. What little I'm picking up isn't tied to an earthly plane."

I fisted my hands on my hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means an entity that's never lived on earth," she said calmly.

"A psychic nasty?"

"A what?"
Darci
broke in.

"Negative energy that exists outside of the realm we live in.
A disembodied spirit."
I glanced at her quickly before turning my attention back to Abby. "How could this happen?" I resumed my pacing. "You smudged the cabin, put salt around the outside. We've always been careful, been prepared before opening up to any energy. I don't understand."

"Were you prepared before you tried breaking the field you felt around the cabin?"

"No," I mumbled. "Whatever's around that cabin took me off guard. The energy felt warm and safe, almost seductive—"

"So you relaxed?" Abby interjected.

I stopped and crossed my arms. "Yeah, I did." I hesitated. "Great," I said, throwing my hands in the air. "You're telling me whatever I encountered decided to follow me home."

"Yes."

Goose bumps prickled my arms. "That means it's already attached itself to me."

"No, not yet," she replied.

I stared at Abby, confused. "But you just said—"

She held up her hand to stop me. "It's circling around you. The energy isn't strong enough yet to firmly attach to you."

"But it's looking for a chink in my psychic armor to slip through?"

"Exactly."
She appeared relieved that I finally understood. "And it's draining your energy in the process. I think that's why you've been having headaches and a queasy stomach."

I shuddered. "It's feeding off me. Like a vampire."

"Um-
hm
.
A psychic vampire."

Oh brother
! I crossed to the railing and looked out over the water.
So peaceful, so lovely.
What had I done? What had I, in my stupidity, released to create havoc among all this beauty? Talk about a Pandora's
box
.

I shifted sideways and leaned a hip against the railing. "Abby, have you ever dealt with anything like this before?"

Her eyes took on a faraway look.
"A long time ago, in the mountains, before I married your grandfather."
She directed her attention back to me. "But my mother and grandmother were the ones who handled the problem. I only helped."

Rick cleared his throat. "Abby, I don't understand half of what you've said, but if you think Ophelia
is
in any danger, normal or paranormal, I think she should leave."

I whirled around. "No."

"
No
?" Rick jumped to his feet. "Have you been listening to your grandmother? If I've got what she said straight, some kind of evil entity is after you. Aren't you scared?"

I shrugged. "A little…"

"A little?"
Rick exclaimed. "If I were you, I'd be scared
sh
—" He glanced at Abby.
"Ah,
spitless
."

"Okay." I looked down and scuffed the deck with my foot. "Maybe I am more than a little scared." Raising my head, my eyes met Rick's. "But whatever's creeping about, I helped release it." I turned back to Abby and gave her a determined look. "How do we send that sucker back where it belongs?"

Abby's face glowed with pride. Standing, she rubbed her hands together. "First of all, I need to do some reading."

"You have your journals?"

"You bet I do—several of them," she said emphatically. "I didn't know what we were going to find when we got here. Only a foolish person would go into a battle without their weapons."

I smiled and put my arms around her. "And no one would dare call you foolish," I said, giving her a hug.

She stepped back, her face stern, but a spark gleamed in her eyes. "Not if they knew what was good for them," she said with a wink. Turning away from me, she marched over to the door, took a deep breath, and walked inside.

"Well,"
Darci
said, rubbing her hands on her legs. "I need some bright lights and music. Anyone want to go into Melcher?"

I rolled my eyes. How many bright lights were there in a town of four hundred? But I understood her need to get away from what we'd witnessed that day.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll stay here with Abby. I still think she's acting a bit strange."

Darci
glanced at Rick.
"You?"

He held up his hand. "I'm beat. I'm going to hang around here for a while, and then head back to Brainerd."

Darci
swung her legs off the chaise lounge and stood. "I noticed a decent bar this morning. Maybe I'll run into some of my friends from the coffee shop." She moved to the door.

"Hey,
Darci
," I called after her. "Be careful."

She flipped me a thumbs-up and glided through the door.

"She's something else, isn't she?" Rick said with a wry grin.

"You bet she is." I returned his grin and sat on the chaise
Darci
had vacated.

We sat in silence watching the sun drop below the pines. The evening star shone bright in the deepening twilight.

Wow, Rick Delaney and starlight. Talk about romance.

I smiled to myself at the thought.

Rick's voice broke the quiet. "What's so funny?"

I leaned my head back and watched the darkening sky.
"Nothing.
You probably wouldn't see the humor."

"I've got a sense of humor," he said defensively. "I…" His voice trailed off as the call of a loon sounded in the distance.

I glanced over at him. "Their call has to be one of the most haunting sounds I've ever heard." Thinking about what I said, I made a face. "Maybe 'haunting' isn't the best word to use right now."

Rick laughed softly. "Not after what Abby said."

"Do you believe in all of this?" I asked suddenly.

"Believe in all of what?"

"Disembodied spirits, ghost lights, you know," I said, wiggling my fingers at him. "Woo-woo stuff."

"I don't know." A smile tickled the corner of his mouth. "By hanging with you, Jensen, I've seen some pretty uncanny stuff. Why?"

I exhaled slowly and stared at the sky. "It would be nice to think someone believed, because my gift's real." I thought of Henry. "And not only when it suited their purpose and they had something to gain.
To understand my talent for my sake."

"Unless they're a psychic, I don't know if anyone really can understand what you and Abby can do."

"Maybe if they cared enough," I replied.

"You've changed, Jensen," Rick said abruptly, changing the subject.

Puzzled, I stole a glance his way. "What do you mean?"

He turned and studied me in the fading light. "You seem more comfortable, more at ease with who you are." A quick grin flashed across his face. "You're still a little prickly, and I think you worry too much—"

"Thanks," I said, and grimaced.

"But you don't have that wall around you anymore," he finished.

I thought about his observations. "You're right. I don't, and I suppose I owe you for that. If you hadn't pulled me into the deal with Adam Hoffman, I'd probably still be hiding from
who
and what I am."

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"Yes—most of the time.
I'm more at peace. There's still so much I have to learn about myself. I get frustrated…" My voice faded while I thought of all those years I'd wasted because I was too stubborn, too afraid of my talent, to listen to Abby. "I have a lot of catching up to do," I said, smiling. "What about you? Has your life changed in the last six months?"

"
Ahh
, I need to explain something to you, Ophelia." Rick fidgeted in his chair. "Last fall, in
Iowa
, we came close to dying. That brings people together…"

"But?"
I asked, arching an eyebrow.

What Rick was about to say came to me in a flash. And I wasn't surprised. What did surprise me was how I felt. Okay. I felt okay about what he was going to tell me. No remorse, no regrets, no heart twinges.

But instead of telling him my thoughts, I decided to let him squirm a bit. Make up for all those times he teased me relentlessly.

"You see, there's this,
ahh
…"

I filled in the blank for him.
"Woman?"

"Yeah, and—"

"You're engaged." I broke in again.

"Yeah."
He sounded bewildered. "How did you know?"

"Psychic, remember?" I said smugly.

He shook his head. "I hate it when you do that."

I chuckled. "Sorry." I reached over and gave him a friendly punch in the arm. "Quit worrying about it. We're friends."

"We are, aren't we?" he said, his face serious.

"Yes, we are." I smiled. "Are you happy?"

"Yeah."

"What's her name?"

"Gina."

Rick wasn't exactly waxing poetic about his beloved. I felt like a prosecutor going after a hostile witness. I gave it one more shot.

"What does she do?"

"Well,
ahh
…" His voice trailed off.

Oh, no
. I remembered the first day I'd met Rick. I'd told him he probably dated models, cheerleader types.

I narrowed my eyes in amusement. "No, don't tell me, she's a model, right?"

I watched his head bob up and down in agreement.

My laughter reverberated across the water.

Boy, did it feel good.

 

Chapter Twenty-five

BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
6.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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