Every Witch Way But Dead Read online

  Thanks to the flowing libations, we were all relaxed, even Marc and Ronnie. It was a wonderful respite. Ivy coupled with my cousin, Vinny, and I do believe he was flirting with her.

  “Vinny, have you seen Amber, by any chance?” I asked as I filled my glass with fruity sangria.

  He held out his cup for a refill as well. “She said her girlfriend stopped by.”

  Jake snuck up behind me. “She’s talking with that guy she likes, Lance. I saw them by the docks.”

  “Hmm. I’d better go check this out.”

  “Angie, we need you out front!” Marisa called to me.

  I need a twin, I thought as I pivoted and headed for the front porch. “What’s up?”

  “I’m not really sure. Your rambunctious cat, Luna, ran out and I went to go find her and found this by the side of the house.”

  I stared at Marisa as she held up an ornate statue of Isis. It was approximately a foot high and eighteen inches wide. Gold leaf covered the majority of the goddess and lapis inlay decorated the base. I took the statue and held it, trying to get a reading on who it belonged to. “I belong to you,” the statue whispered.

  I thought of my astral visitor. Could it be a gift from him? This whole situation baffled me. He was an enigma, for certain. Cold and calculating, and yet thoughtful enough to perhaps leave an expensive gift?

  “It’s gorgeous, did you order it?” Marisa asked as we headed indoors. She held Luna and I held Isis. “That’s real gold, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t. But the strangest thing happened—”

  Amber stormed into the kitchen. “Mom, will you tell that runt of a brother to stop following me!”

  I put the statue down and went over to my rebellious daughter. “Young lady, I heard you had a visitor?”

  “Thanks a lot, brat.” Amber fixed her gaze on Jake and the sparkler he held in his hand sizzled.

  I swiftly turned to him. “Get out of the house with that thing! I told you outside with those,” I scolded as I chased him out back.

  “B-but, Mom…”

  “No but Mom. Out!” I turned back to Amber. Cleverly, she’d made her escape into the crowd. I could have sworn that sparkler hadn’t been lit. Perhaps I’d had a bit too much sangria.

  * * *

  “Come on honey, the show’s starting,” Jon called to me. I headed out to join him, forgetting all about combustible sparklers and manifestations of Isis.

  The sun dipped low in the heavens, splashed in hues of magenta and tangerine with the promise of a glorious sunset colorful enough to rival even the most extravagant fireworks.

  We ate, drank, danced and even sang. Marc and Ronnie always traveled with a guitar and flute and that, along with Marisa’s little magical brew of Jell-O shots, made everyone’s tensions slowly fade, along with the dying light of the sun. As the skies dimmed, the real show began.

  M-80s boomed intermittently and we became used to the occasional blasts, sounding as it must have so many years ago during the Revolutionary War.

  The dessert portion of the party took place at Marisa and Rich’s. The kids floated from house to house, visiting friends, lighting sparklers and grabbing boxes of Wolf packs, tiny bags of gun powder that snapped when thrown against the cement.

  My mom opted to stay at Casa Del Kane with Ivy. Amber did her level best to avoid me. Friends, cousin Vinny included, breezed from house to house sampling foods along the way. It was a veritable all you can eat buffet, and did we eat!

  Sitting on the back deck swing, we watched the parade of vibrant colors flash across the midnight canvas of sky, oohhing and ahhhing with each explosion of color.

  Perhaps in retrospect it was the alcohol or the gentle swinging that lulled me into a spurious veil of tranquility. My eyes felt heavy as I leaned back into my husband’s warm and gentle embrace and peered at the light show before me. It felt so serene. I was without a care in the world. I let my guard down.

  That was not a good thing.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lapis Lazuli is said to help filter out the distractions that can keep you from remaining alert. Lapis can also help you attain spiritual illumination. By calming the mind and soothing the body, it allows you to be more open to the subtle messages of the spirit world. Lapis lazuli can help you see the positive aspects of negative situations. It will help you let go of fears based upon past experience and leave you open for a richer, more positive ones. ~ From an article written by Angelica Kane on the healing properties of gemstones.

  Like the gentle waters swirling down into an ever-narrowing channel, my spirit glided effortlessly into the watery depths of the astral worlds. I’d become an amorphic being, swimming absentmindedly along. My consciousness was free to roam and it took great pleasure in doing so as it alit from thought to thought, none of which was of any great consequence.

  The gentle swaying, mesmerizing in its rhythmic cadence, was like a metronome keeping time.

  Tick-tock.

  Back and forth.

  The rhythm was particularly hypnotic.

  I listened to the fireworks overhead, the swishing and sizzling sounds as they took off into the velvety night sky. The popping sounds announced dollops of surreal colors as they sparked the darkness. The gentle waves lapped on the shore and kept time with the motion of the swing, but alas, all good things come to an end. My nirvana was always uncomfortably short.

  I first became aware of a burning sensation all along my upper body. Heat stretched from my arms down into my chest like a forest fire in desiccated woods. It was excruciatingly painful to take in even the slightest bit of air.

  Fear clutched my heart with a gelid grip.

  Then I plunged into blackness.

  My sense of touch gradually returned to me, over time that seemed to stretch from slow motion to abruptly snapping back to real time. I felt myself dragged, my legs chafed by what felt like gritty sandpaper. My hair was yanked at every few feet. I realized I was in the dunes with ragged shells and pointy, stiff beach grass all around. My feet were bare and bleeding. I tuned into the constant boom that erupted at distinct intervals, my eyes focusing in and out, flashes of light and color unexpectedly illuminated before me.

  A sickly sweet smell bombarded my nose as I tried to catch my breath. Searing pain erupted alongside my head. I was thrown down and collided with what must have been a rock or a chunk of driftwood. My warm blood trickled down my neck and shoulder. His face was suddenly before me, hovering ever so close, the smell of alcohol strong on his breath. His familiar blue eyes now a dark and stormy gray, he intimately whispered in my ear.

  “Why did you have to leave me?” he muttered. Then he turned to ice. “You’re just like her, you think you’re too good? Bitch! You used me and then tossed me aside. You're all alike.” His lips curled in a maleficent grin. “I asked you not to go. That wasn’t a smart move, I warned you, but you refused to listen. Now it’s my turn. How do you like being used up and spit out, huh? You turned my world upside down and for what?”

  I tried to speak, but my lips felt numb, like when I’d had too much Novocain at the dentist. All I could do was make soft, moaning sounds.

  He ripped off my top and pawed at me, clumsily unbuttoning my shorts as he attempted to kiss my shoulders and neck. “As I remember, you like it rough.”

  I twisted and raised a knee to his groin, but it didn't have the momentum I needed. His grip loosened, though, and I dug my feet into the sand for leverage, pushing myself up and him off. I heard him laugh as he lunged toward me. My feeble attempts at escape only heightened his arousal.

  “She did the same thing as you, you're made from the same mold, blonde whores, all of you—just like my mother! Screwing around with every freeloader she could find, leaving me with them—those sick, perverted fucks! She was an asshole magnet!” He put his hands around my throat and tightened his grip. “You bitches, teasing me with that pretty smile and empty promises, a bright future we’ll have, you say. Then you act like the whore that you ar
e! Why? I wanna know why? Why does everyone I love leave me? I have feelings, too, and I get hurt.”

  His thoughts took a direct turn inward, lost for a brief moment, his hands moving from my throat to my breasts. I swallowed as much air as I could, but the burning remained. “I thought you were different, you were so sweet, I wasn’t enough for you? Now maybe you'll know how I hurt.”

  “I never left…” was all I could mutter, all she could mutter. With the lights exploding above, he violated me, repeatedly. He murmured a name, but it wasn’t mine. While he protested his undying love, his anger played itself out until he was spent.

  My wrists stung from the sand as they pushed deeper into the sand. Tears streamed down my bloodied face as I tried to plead with him, my voice barely above a moan.

  “It’s too late, dear. I know you’ll run back to him. He doesn’t love you like I do.” His voice changed in tone from almost caring to sadistic. “You ruined everything, sweetheart. It didn't have to be this way.”

  “But—I didn’t—”

  His perspiration dripped onto my face as I squirmed beneath him, trying to get my leg positioned at an angle where I could do some damage once he pulled out of me. He was not giving an inch. I looked directly at him, but his face phased in and out of focus. All I could see were those penetrating blue eyes.

  His left hand grabbed my wrists and held them above my head as he straddled me. His other hand reached behind him. One, two, three.

  Tick, tock, tick.

  Flashes of gold, white and green streaks lit the night sky.

  Then the glimmer of silver steel caught the reflections of color.

  “It’s all your fault, witch.” And down came his solid, muscled arm. With one swift and effortless swipe, the kaleidoscope of colors faded to black.

  * * *

  With a profound whoosh, an intense, swirling energy thrust me back from my ethereal body to my physical one. I’d barely opened my eyes when the uncontrollable urge to empty the contents of my stomach took over. I pushed my adoring and frantic husband out of harm’s way while I retched all over the deck.

  “Oh, my gods! Get her some water and a cold rag,” Ouida ordered. She pushed my sweat-soaked hair out of my face and soothed me as my own mother used to when I was a child.

  Marisa ran back with a bottle of Kabala water, saved for emergencies of the metaphysical ilk.

  “Drink up,” Ouida whispered.

  Worry draped itself around my friends. Rich came over with rolls of paper towels, the garden hose and a bucket of environmentally safe cleaners to wash away the mess I made. I apologized profusely, both completely embarrassed and petrified by what I’d seen and done.

  Jon helped me up and led me into Marisa’s cool, cheerful kitchen. I sat at her breakfast nook with Ouida right beside him. I was shaking.

  “The spirits came to your wife tonight,” she quietly informed Jon as she wiped away a small trickle of blood by my temple.

  I ached all over. “I need some aspirin,” I croaked out hoarsely.

  “Carl, get me some of them crackers,” Ouida said, taking control. “She needs some food. Toast, with jelly maybe,” she continued, heading for Marisa’s bread drawer. I held my head between my hands, trying to find the strength to speak.

  Kevin tore into the room, his face flush with dread, fear written all over him.

  “Has anyone seen Sally?” he shouted frantically. “I can’t find her!”

  Ronnie and Marc came to my aid, a look of absolute terror on Ronnie’s face.

  “What do you need?” she asked me anxiously.

  “Call the police,” I whispered.

  * * *

  Thank the Goddess, Officer Pugliese was working a bit of overtime. Within minutes of the call to 9-1-1, he was there. It was far easier to explain to him what had transpired than to, as Harry Potter would say, a muggle. He called for assistance while he jotted down the preliminary report taken from Kevin.

  “It was ten-thirty. I’d last seen Sally at approximately nine-thirty. She was heading to Angelica’s house to use the bathroom and I haven’t seen her since,” Kevin told the officer. “I searched all around for her, going from house to house hoping she was bullsh—talking, with some of the neighbors. I panicked when I couldn’t find her.”

  I took Officer Pugliese to the side. “Look in the dunes, down by the abandoned hot dog shack. I’m not sure, but I know she’s by the water.”

  He looked perplexed, but he kept taking notes. “How do you know?”

  “Oh, don’t ask, Rob—it’s a witch thing, you know how that works.” I gave him a weak smile.

  “I’m learning.” He winked as he turned, heading toward the detective.

  My mom and sister came over to say farewell and thank you. My mother gave me that stare that only mothers can. “Are you all right, Angie? You look awfully peaked. Did I see a police car? Is there a problem? Drugs—did someone bring drugs?”

  “Too much wine, Mom, I’ll be all right. No, no one brought drugs, it’s just the usual patrol.” We hugged and said our farewells and I thanked my mom profusely for all her help. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?” I asked her.

  “Oh, I didn’t come prepared—next time. When Jake’s out of camp, I’ll come keep an eye on him for you for a few weeks,” she generously offered.

  “Come on, guys, I’ll walk you to your cars,” Jon said as he escorted them out.

  Heena sat beside me. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? What in the world happened?” As usual, she took my wrist and checked my pulse.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, looking at Ouida.

  “Who’s Khaldun?” she asked, wide-eyed. “That’s not an American name.”

  I was confused. “No, it’s not. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you called it out a few times.” Heena sighed.

  By eleven o’clock, swarms of police covered the neighborhood. They wrote furiously, taking reports from Kevin and anyone else who might have seen Sally. Neighbors clustered in groups on their front lawns answering a multitude of questions and wondering what in the world was going on. My amiable cousin, Vinny, boisterous as ever, escorted Ivy through the curious horde. She insisted she was my aunt and had every right to be here. Of course, Vinny simply plowed his way through.

  “Are you okay, cuz?” Vinny was, as always, a commanding presence in the room, tall, burly and still quite handsome for a man approaching sixty. He took very good care of himself and his family. “You ever have any problems, you tell your cousin, capisce?” he’d say, with all the hand gestures of a first-generation Italian-American.

  “What in Great Brigit’s name is going on here?” Ivy whispered.

  “It’s Sally, she’s…missing,” I said, holding onto the bright but fading hope that I may have been seriously wrong. “I had another vision, Ivy, it was horrible. I think someone killed Sally,” I said in hushed tones.

  Through the crowd, I saw the familiar profile of Detective Bennette. He was heading toward me.

  “Mrs. Kane, are you hurt? What happened?” he asked as he came to stand beside me.

  I touched the spot where my head was bleeding. “No, I’m fine. I’m a little dizzy, but I should be okay,” I answered, then sipped some water.

  “You mind if I ask you a few questions?” He took out his familiar note pad.

  As I rested my head in my hands I agreed. “Sure, I don’t know what I can tell you,” I softly said.

  “You invited the missing girl?” he asked, eyeing me closely.

  “Actually, my friend Risa—Marisa did.” I looked up into those brilliant blue eyes that were methodically taking in more information than what he wrote down.

  “Who’d she come with?”

  “Some guy named Kevin, I’m not sure of his last name, but he’s over there in the backyard talking to the other officer.” I pointed to the back.

  He flipped over another page. “How long have you known the missing girl?” he continued.

  “Sa
lly, her name is Sally, and I met her a few weeks ago. She’s actually a client of Marisa’s.”

  He arched a brow. “A client? Is your friend a therapist or something of that nature?”

  “Massage therapist, yes.”

  He suddenly looked quite concerned. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You don’t look too good. You’re very pale. You want some more water? Do you want to lie down? Your head’s still bleeding a little.” He leaned over, handed me a napkin and placed his hand on my shoulder. I felt a familiar snap of energy and sat back abruptly. It was uncomfortable. “I can take you to the hospital,” he offered.

  I smiled in appreciation. “I have an ER nurse, a pediatrician and a—now don’t tell anyone—a psychiatrist here. I think I’ll be okay. But thanks. Ivy doesn’t want many people to know she can prescribe medicine, so she tells everyone she’s a psychologist.”

  I heard Carl laugh. “How do you feel?” Carl asked, fixing me another piece of toast and bringing it over. “You want some jam on it?”

  Mama Ouida took over. “She needs to rest. Let her eat it plain this time.”

  “You want me to stick around?” Vinny asked, eyeing Ivy, who looked quite fetching with her salt and pepper hair cascading down her shoulders.

  “I think I’ll be fine, thanks for offering.” I sighed, nibbling at the bread.

  The detective attempted to reschedule a meeting with me. “How about I come by your house tomorrow, when you’re feeling better?” He whispered to me, “You really look like you need some rest. I don’t mean it as an insult—I mean, you’re a beautiful woman, it’s just, you look…very pasty. Your lips are pale.”

  “I get it, Detective. I look horrible. I’d appreciate that a lot if you’d come by tomorrow.” I smiled.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…I put my foot in it this time,” Detective Bennette said then walked over to Kevin. He took over the questioning, looking over his shoulder, back at me.