Witchy Woman (11 page)

“If she remembers the Cat, she’ll be intrigued enough to find out how I became involved with it. If she doesn’t remember it …” Tess shrugged. “Then I was wrong. She can’t help us.”

Heidi returned almost immediately, smiling warmly this time. “Apparently those were the magic words. Your mother said to send you back.” She lowered her voice. “What’s a crimson cat, anyway?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Nate said.

Nate followed Tess as she led him unerringly down a maze of hallways, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips beneath the cotton print skirt. Certainly he would rather look at Tess’s backside than the other choices available to him—the residents of Dowling.

They sat in wheelchairs along the wide hallways, strapped in or down. They stared with glassy eyes at the wall, or carried on loud and imaginative conversations with nonexistent friends. One woman shouted obscenities as they passed.

Nate shivered. He was a journalist. He was supposed to be inured to the harsh realities of life. But this place made him feel worse than the meanest streets he’d ever walked. He knew this was probably the best care available to the mentally ill. He also knew that it
would make him feel awful to have a loved one locked up there.

Tess strode onward, seemingly oblivious. She said hi to one old man who greeted her with a wave and a big, toothless smile, but other than that, she didn’t interact. As sensitive as she was, he figured she had to work pretty hard to distance herself from all this. But that was apparently what she’d done, or what she was trying to do.

He was still a little blown away by this “psychic energy” business. But she’d proved, to his exacting standards, that she received information from some other source than the normal five senses. Some might call him a gullible fool for believing in any sort of hocus-pocus, but better gullible than downright stupid. To ignore the evidence she’d provided him would be stupid.

So, Tess was psychic. And the feats she’d demonstrated on television as a preadolescent hadn’t been tricks. He was still numb from the realization. But he was also intrigued. If there really was such a thing as psychic energy, then the world as Nate knew it had just turned upside down. If the impossible was suddenly not only possible, but palpably real, then who was he to say that a Gypsy curse from a couple of centuries ago was hogwash?

Tess finally stopped at one of the gleaming white doors, which was open a crack. She tapped on it with her knuckles. “Morganna?”

No answer came from within. Just a blood-chilling cackle.

Tess apparently took the laughter as a signal for her to enter. “Good morning, Morganna,” she said, her voice carefully modulated as she slowly entered the room. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Don’t thank me till the visit’s done,” Morganna said ominously.

Nate was struck by his first glimpse of the woman, who bore little resemblance to the exotic creature he’d seen on the videotape of the
Don Woodland Show.
Morganna Majick was a haggard shell of a woman, bent, emaciated. Her hair, a mixture of light brown and snow white, hung in limp shanks halfway down her back. Nate remembered her hair as being jet-black, the way her daughter’s had been on the TV show. They both must’ve dyed their hair for effect.

Morganna’s clothing, a black, shapeless caftan, befitted a witch. She couldn’t have been much over fifty, but she looked closer to seventy.

Her sharp, birdlike eyes caught sight of Nate, and she smiled, revealing small, white teeth that appeared sharpened, like an animal’s. “Whom have we here?” she exclaimed in mock delight. “A boyfriend? I don’t think Moonbeam’s ever had a boyfriend before, have you, darling?”

Tess’s face was hard, impassive, and she stayed well out of touching distance of her mother. “I doubt you would know, since you haven’t seen me in three years. But he’s not a boyfriend,” she said firmly.

Her words had a deflating effect on Nate. Of course he wasn’t a boyfriend, but she didn’t have to say it as if it were an irrevocable condition.

Tess took a deep breath, starting fresh. “Morganna, this is Nate Wagner. By a strange set of circumstances, the Crimson Cat is now in the trunk of his car.”

Morganna ignored Nate’s outstretched hand. “Ooh, the Crimson Cat. Yes, now we’re getting down to it, aren’t we? The nasty beast.” She continued to stare at Nate. “Does she touch you, boyfriend? Couldn’t get her to touch me nor anyone, the fey little thing. Soon as she finished suckling, she’d have nothing to do with me.”

“Mother, please,” Tess said impatiently, her face flushed with embarrassment. “This visit isn’t about me, and Nate isn’t my boyfriend, all right?”

“ ‘Mother’ now, is it?” Morganna turned her sharp gaze toward her daughter. “Trying to soften up your old lady? After all the years of neglect, now suddenly you need the old witch. So it’s ‘Mother.’ ”

“It slipped out,” Tess said stoically. “You’re the one who doesn’t want me to call you that. I’ve always tried to honor your wishes, but sometimes I forget.”

A surge of protectiveness rose up inside Nate, along with an overblown irritation toward Morganna, a mentally ill woman, for all the pain she’d caused her daughter over the years. How had Tess referred to it? Radically dysfunctional?

Abruptly the light of mean-spirited amusement went out of Morganna’s eyes. She drifted over to her bed and sat down on the edge, as if she were alone in the room. She stared up at the ceiling. “What do you want, girl?”

“It’s the Crimson Cat,” Tess said quickly, taking
advantage of Morganna’s momentary lucidity. “We found it accidentally in an antique store, and my friend Judy bought it even though I told her not to, and now she’s sick, maybe dying. Nate and I removed the statue from her apartment, but it hasn’t helped.”

“Of course not,” Morganna said curtly. “Once the curse takes firm hold, there’s no stopping it.”

“But there is,” Tess insisted, sitting beside her mother. “You tried once. I remember.”

Morganna shook her head vehemently. “Tried and failed.”

“Because something was missing, you said.”

“It was a long time ago,” Morganna said wearily. “I don’t remember.”

“You could try,” Nate wheedled.

Morganna jerked her gaze up to stare at him, panic-stricken. “Don’t you see? If you try to defeat the curse, the Cat will take vengeance. Do you want to end up like me? Let it rest. Hide the statue in a closet and forget about it. A life of bad luck is better than no life at all.”

“I can’t let it rest,” Tess said, her eyes filling. “I brought this thing on. Now Judy’s dying, and I’ve involved Nate too. I have to try to undo it.”

“You’ve had no training,” Morganna argued. She again turned to Nate. “She denied my training. She was born with the natural talent of a true master, much better than me, but she’d have nothing to do with it. It was her
birthright.
”

They were all quiet for a long time until Tess said softly, “I wanted to be normal.”

“You can’t be.” Morganna smiled, showing her strange teeth, and it chilled Nate to his marrow. “The Dark Lord will find you. He’s already found you. It’s only a matter of time before you’re his.” She held out one bony hand to Tess. “It will be so much easier if you come willingly.”

“No!” Tess jumped to her feet and moved to the far corner of the room, as far as she could get from Morganna. “Maybe the curse will defeat me. But I won’t go without a fight. Tell me how to fight it, Morganna. You have the tools. I have abilities; you just said so. At least give me a chance!”

Nate watched the currents arcing between mother and daughter. He could swear that the air had become charged. The hairs on his arms were standing on end. And he felt the first stirrings of fear, real fear. If this was a delusion, it was a damn powerful one.

Morganna sighed wearily. “You can try, I suppose, for what good it will do. But I warn you, if the spell doesn’t kill you, the curse will.”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” Tess said.

“I don’t have it with me, of course.” She turned to Nate. “They didn’t let me take anything with me when they brought me here.”

“But there is a spell?” Tess asked anxiously. “Written down somewhere?”

“In my Book of Shadows.”

Tess inhaled sharply. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, no, what?” Nate asked. “What’s a Book of Shadows?”

Tess trembled visibly. Nate was afraid she might keel over, but instead she sank onto the nearest surface, a footstool. “It’s a grimoire. A witch’s spell book.”

Nate sure hoped his pocket tape recorder was picking all this up. He hadn’t wanted to carry a notepad for fear of stymieing discussion between the two women. Of course, there was no way he would forget any of this. It was all too weird.

“Where is this book?” Nate asked. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“At home,” Morganna said. “The home they took away from me when they took my daughter and everything else.” She narrowed her eyes at Tess. “Your fault. Evil child!”

Tess reacted as if she’d been slapped.

Nate’s impulse was to protect her from the foul-tempered
old biddy, to defend her against the verbal assault. But he bit his tongue. The seeds of this mother-daughter relationship had been sown years ago. It wasn’t up to him to fix it, as if he could.

“You ruined my life, you little wretch!” Morganna screeched. “Get out! It would serve you right if that cursed Cat destroyed you and all you love!”

Nate didn’t wait around to hear anymore. “We’re going now,” he said in a tone of voice that invited no arguments. He grabbed Tess’s arm, opened the door to the hallway, and virtually dragged her outside. Morganna’s voice, moaning something about a full moon, followed them.

As soon as Morganna was safely closed away behind her door, Tess leaned her back against the wall and dropped her head into her hands.

“That was pretty rough,” Nate said, because he couldn’t think of anything more brilliant.

Tess sniffed in response. Aw, hell, she was crying. Nate never knew what to do in these circumstances. Maybe distracting her would work. He started to ask her more about this Book of Shadows business, but just then the nurse they’d talked to earlier came sailing down the hall, scowling.

“What happened?” she demanded. “I heard Mrs. DeWitt.” She cast an anxious glance at the closed door.

Tess composed herself. “I’m afraid I’ve upset her—again.”

“It’s not your fault,” Heidi said, though Nate wasn’t sure she believed it. “Mrs. DeWitt upsets easily. Still, maybe this visit wasn’t such a good idea. I hadn’t
thought about it, but maybe talking about your lost pet made her … anxious.”

“Her pet?” Nate and Tess asked together.

“The crimson cat?”

Tess actually laughed. “Trust me, the Crimson Cat isn’t a pet.” She sobered. “We have to go now, Heidi. Please call me if there’s anything I can do where my mother’s concerned. Otherwise … well, I don’t know if I’ll be coming back again.”

Heidi gave her a compassionate look. “No one would blame you, sweetie, if you didn’t.”

As soon as they were back out into the bright sun and fresh air, Tess took a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m sorry you had to be there for that, Nate.”

“I’m sorry if I made matters worse.” He started to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Out of habit, she skittered away before he could touch her.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he asked. “I don’t bite. Am I that repulsive?” The teasing glint in his eyes told her he knew damn well he was anything but repulsive.

“It’s not that,” she said with a shake of her head. She decided to tell him what her problem was. “You know how I pick up vibrations from objects by holding them in my hands?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, it’s not a voluntary thing. I pick up vibrations from whatever I touch, or whatever touches me.”

“What, so you can read me like you did the frog
and the picture and the matches?” He crossed his arms in a classic pose of incredulity.

“ ’Fraid so. I don’t do it on purpose. It just happens.”

“Does that mean you can read my mind?” He looked decidedly worried.

“It’s not an exact thing. I pick up impressions, or a word here and there. Actually, I’ve found it’s not so bad, touching you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, I mean, your vibrations are kind of in sync with mine, if that makes any sense. But they can be a little overwhelming, and I’m still trying to shake off everything that came at me inside.” She nodded her head toward the redbrick building behind them.

“So you pick up vibes from everything? Clothes, food, furniture—”

“Exactly. My mother used to tell me that I needed to learn how to control my abilities, to shut them off, but I didn’t listen. I thought if I just ignored them, they would go away and I could be normal.” She heard the wistfulness in her own voice.

Nate shook his head. “That must be a helluva way to live,” he said dubiously.

“If I’m careful, it’s not so bad. C’mon, let’s go. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Yeah, me, too, and I’m not the least bit psychic.”

“You might be surprised,” she said, smiling at his startled expression. She took off for the parking lot. “Are you up for a visit to Judy? Or do you need to do some work?”

“For now, you
are
my work.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure why that revelation disappointed her so. He’d made it clear he still wanted to write his story, regardless of her objections. “Then let’s stop by my place so I can change clothes. We can pick up my car too.”

“You don’t like the motorcycle?”

“It’s not my favorite mode of transportation.”

Three hours later Nate was still hanging in there with her. He’d taken her to her condo so she could change into jeans and a comfortable cable-knit sweater. While waiting, he’d stood in her living room, hardly moving, as if he was afraid he might disturb or sully something in her white-on-white decor.

Just in case, she chucked a change of clothes into an overnight bag. She didn’t know when she might return home, and she wanted to be prepared.

Next they’d taken Tess’s car to the hospital. Judy had been sleeping fitfully. Her parents were there, looking much older and more frail than Tess remembered them. But at least she could leave the hospital knowing someone who loved Judy would be there when she woke up. If she woke up. Her vitals were slipping. The doctors were talking about putting her on a respirator.