Every Witch Way But Dead Page 15

  “Sounds like a plan, baby cakes.”

  “I may take you up on it, Risa. You mean it?”

  “Yup. Go ahead. If I need you I’ll call you on your cell.”

  I was getting ready to leave when Ivy walked in the store. Her face was as red as her aura. She threw down her bag, stopping as soon as she spotted me in the back room.

  “Oh, hi—I thought you’d left already. Marisa said you could use an afternoon off. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Actually, I want to meet with Ouida and do a regression.”

  Ivy nervously nodded her head. “Good—good idea.”

  “Ivy, what’s wrong?” Marisa and I asked simultaneously.

  “Nothing, really. I’m just flustered because—uh—I got caught in traffic.”

  “I thought you were meeting a friend for lunch at La Luna’s Bistro. That’s down the street,” Marisa said.

  Ivy gave her a stern look.

  “What’s up, Ivy? Spill it,” I prodded her.

  “Oh, it’s probably nothing—”

  “Gods, Ivy, what?”

  Ivy paced back and forth. “I did meet my friend for lunch, and while I was there…I saw… Jon was there.”

  “Yeah?” My face drained of color. I knew what was coming.

  “He was having lunch—with…a woman.”

  Marisa jumped to Jon’s defense. “So what, Ivy, it was probably a business lunch.”

  Ivy nodded, not very convincingly. “Yes, you’re probably right, Marisa.”

  “Spill it, Ivy, what’s the rest?”

  “Angelica, talk to him, because I don’t want to cause you anymore worries than you have already.”

  “Ivy!” I yelled, exasperated at her dodging the question.

  Ivy flailed her hands in the air. “The woman was overly…friendly. She was flirting. It was obvious. I know what you’re going to ask and no, I don’t know who she is, I only saw her from the back.”

  “How was Jon acting?” I asked.

  “She was very touchy-feely, he was smiling, but I didn’t see him touch her, much.”

  “What do you mean much?”

  “Damn… Angie, go home and talk to him,” Ivy pleaded.

  “Ivy, what do you mean by, he didn’t touch her much?”

  “You know your husband, when he talks to people he may touch their arm or hand. Things like that.”

  “I know he’s got a big deal going on. Rich told me. I bet it has to do with that,” Marisa said.

  “Yeah, I bet that’s it,” Ivy added.

  “It better be,” I said as headed for the door. “But he won’t be home until later, so I can’t talk to him now.”

  Ivy poured herself some iced tea. “What are your plans for this afternoon?”

  “I’m still planning to go and see Ouida. I need answers and maybe a regression will have a few.”

  “Be careful,” Marisa warned.

  * * *

  “Count back with me slowly and imagine that you are walking down into a crystal cave. Five…four, you’re almost at the bottom. Three…two, look around and notice where you are. One. You are there.”

  “She must die. She has disgraced the Temple of Isis. She will not inform us who her lover is. Take her to the desert.” The voice that condemned me to death was my father’s. In this lifetime, he was reborn as my cousin, Vinny.

  I looked over at the guards that stood by my father’s side. Khaldun was missing.

  “Badru, where is your brother, Khaldun?” my father asked.

  “He is not well, my king.” The other warriors were big, strapping men, but their souls identified them as Diane and Sally. Badru was Veronica Arthur.

  Tears began to fall from my eyes as the feelings along with the memories washed over me.

  “Can you tell me what’s happening, Angie?” Ouida asked.

  I informed her of the other people and who they were in this life.

  “I’m in the desert, I’m the daughter of nobility and my father has just sentenced me to death. The warriors or guards of my father are making sure the sentence is carried out.”

  “Who in this…”

  “Vinny.” I knew the question she was about to ask.

  “Go get him. He has an errand that can only be entrusted to him.”

  Abandoned in the palace of my birth with only the guards of my father, I waited. Khaldun would save me.

  “Go forward in time, Angelica. Go to the next important event in your life.”

  We left the city, the only home I’d ever known, and headed away from the rich palace to the desolate sands of the Sahara. For a long while we rode until finally Khaldun stopped and took me off his horse

  He spoke not a word to me and with tears in his eyes he carried me out to the desert. I tried talking to him, but it was as if he could not hear my pleas.

  “Why won’t you talk to me?” I asked. “Why have you stopped? We can run away together now, my love.”

  The man called Khaldun looked back at me. Tears streaked his dusty face. His eyes carried the pain of what he was about to do. He was the handsomest man I’d ever seen.

  “Jamila, I must leave. I have disgraced my family and the Goddess. I cannot continue. Badru informed me if I do not return, your father will kill everyone I love. Including my brother.”

  A knot formed in my throat. I couldn’t speak and could not believe what I was hearing.

  “B-but you love me.”

  “More than anything, but I cannot live with the disgrace.”

  I began to sob.

  “What is it Angie? Who is this man in your life today?”

  I could not speak as I watched the man I loved ride off, leaving me to die in the desert. My throat was raw from calling out to him as he slowly disappeared from view.

  “Angie, I want you to view the rest of this life from outside of your body. The emotions that are tied into this incarnation have no effect on you now.”

  “I’m dying. I haven’t had anything to drink in a long time. I can’t tell you exactly how long, but it seems like a day or two has passed. I see myself watching the star-streaked sky at night. It’s absolutely breathtaking.” The tears subsided as I continued to observe this life and impending death.

  “Wait—I am being lifted out of the sun and I feel moisture on my lips. Someone is bringing me to a local encampment. I’m brought to a tent and fed water. Oh, my Goddess!”

  “What is it?”

  “His face, it’s changing from an older man to—Detective Bennette. He saved my life.”

  “Do you recognize anyone else?”

  “Jon, he’s the brother of Hamadi, the man who saves me.”

  “Angelica, who’s Khaldun?”

  “He is riding back into the desert, looking for me. Khaldun. He couldn’t live with himself and he’s searching for me, only I’m far away now. He thinks I’m dead and that he’s killed me. They lied to him. Badru and the others. My father wasn’t going to have me killed, he had to make it seem as if I would die in the desert. Badru was supposed to tell Khaldun to take me to my mother’s sister. He wasn’t supposed to leave me in the desert. Oh Gods, they betrayed us all.”

  “Who is he? Angelica, who is Khaldun?”

  Engulfed in the visions, I could barely hear her. “Badru told Khaldun that he and I were lovers. He lied again. Khaldun’s performing some sort of ritual in the desert. It’s night, under the full moon. He’s praying to Isis. Ouida, he’s asking Isis to harden his heart and to never be able to love again. He’s asking Seth, the god of chaos, to keep love from him and to Osiris to bring death to him.” The emotions were too much and even though Ouida instructed me to feel nothing, the love was strong and it overpowered me.

  “I see Hamadi and I live a long and happy life. We have many children together. We love each other a great deal. But the memory of Khaldun haunts me.”

  “Who is Khaldun?”

  “I can’t get a name.”

  “Try,” she insisted.

  “He’s th
e killer. Khaldun is the killer. Great Goddess, he’s the one the police are after. He killed Diane and Sally.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Smoky quartz ~ The energies of this crystal are more understated than those of clear quartz, so its power is more gradual. Smoky quartz can neutralize negative energies, but its slow-working nature makes it more suited for situations where caution is called for or where slow changes are desired. Smoky quartz is a good crystal for gazing. Meditations using this crystal as a focal point can lead to "hidden" secrets being exposed. It helps one in meditation by clearing worries and emotional blockages. It is a grounding and protective stone. ~ From an article by Angelica Kane in an upcoming newsletter.

  The next day as I dusted the bookshelves in the shop, Marisa asked, “So, how did things go with Jon?”

  “He said it was a meeting concerning the purchase through Harbor Realty and that this woman’s husband was supposed to attend the meeting, but canceled at the last minute.”

  “I asked Rich, that’s what he said, too. Do you believe him?”

  “I don’t know. Ever since that affair, I find it hard to totally trust him. I can’t help it.”

  “That’s a tough one to recover from, baby cakes. It’s totally understandable. But why not give him the benefit of the doubt, just this time?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “You always have a choice. You either believe him or not. Why not talk it over with Ivy?”

  “I guess.” The bells chimed, signaling that a customer had entered the store, ending our talk for the moment.

  Detective Bennette clumsily made his way through the maze of shelves and display racks inside the shop. “Mrs. Kane, I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time.”

  “Sure, Detective, what can I help you with?” I said, trying to find room for the corn dollies that Ouida had made, without much success. Infused with magick, corn dollies promised to enhance the energies of good fortune. Lammas was only a day away and the first batch she made had sold out quickly. People were still requesting them, buying two and three at a time. Finally, I plopped them in an empty wicker basket and placed them next to the register.

  The store was hectic this afternoon. I led him to the kitchen area where we would be undisturbed. He sat down and rubbed at his temples, a nervous habit of his I’d come to recognize. My silver bracelets jangled as I poured us some refreshing lavender and rosemary lemonade. In the center of the table, cradled in a ceramic sunflower sunburst dish, were Marisa’s recently baked confections, Lavender Madelines. They were perfection in a cookie. I nudged the plate toward him and thought of the regression the day before.

  “Mrs. Kane—” He took a cookie.

  “Please call me Angelica.” I straightened my off-the-shoulder dress. I’d sprinkled some fairy dust on my décolletagé, and I sparkled.

  “Okay, but if I do that, you’ll have to call me Sean, deal?” He smiled and those dimples begged to be pinched. I refrained.

  “Deal.” I sipped my drink, trying to size Sean up. Whatever brought him here wasn’t good, that much I knew. In spite of the circumstances, he was very easy to be around. I got the feeling you sometimes get when you meet a stranger and right away you either like them or don’t, for no apparent reason. This was the former. Now I knew why.

  He took a deep breath. “I was wondering.” He paused as if deciding whether to go on or run for it. He went for it. “We’ve got a case I’m working, a lost child, little girl. We hit a brick wall. Would you mind giving this assignment a once over? I don’t know exactly what you’d need, but…we’re really stumped.” He ran his hands through his hair, another nervous habit.

  “Of course I’d be happy to help.” I sipped my lemonade and grabbed a cookie. “I’ve recently worked with the FBI on another missing child. Happily, we found him alive.”

  “Interesting. I guess a federal law was broken?”

  “He was taken across state lines.”

  “Would you be able to come with me, to the apartment, where the little girl lives?” he asked.

  “Sure thing—now?” My voice gave away my shock.

  He shyly nodded. “If you’re not too busy, I’d really appreciate it. I’ll buy you lunch.”

  How could I say no to the man who’d saved my life, albeit lifetimes ago? I felt I owed him. “Let me just tell my partner,” I answered, putting the lemonade back into the refrigerator while handing him a cookie. Ivy was at the shop today, and I suspected between her and Marisa, they’d be all right.

  It was a lovely late July afternoon. We drove in silence to Maplewood Grove, where the little girl lived. I asked Sean not to tell me anything about Sara’s life other than her name and birth date.

  After a thirty-minute ride, we arrived a little past the noontime hour. The apartment complex was welcoming, with maple and sycamore trees lining the pathways and impatiens adding splashes of color, drawing the eye from one area to another.

  Sara lived in the building labeled D, on the first floor. Sean entered first to talk to the mother. Then he brought me in. I have to admit, I must’ve shocked the woman. That particular day I’d decided to wear a long, flowing, off-the-shoulder gauze dress, all in black. In addition, I had an armful of silver bracelets and as always, my pentacle. Huge gypsy-style earrings suspended from each lobe, occasionally going astray amidst the blonde curls that fell to my waist. I looked very—artsy.

  I asked Sean to inform the mother to keep silent until I was through.

  Those odd sensations ruptured through the astral plane as soon as I stepped across the threshold. Thankfully, I’d brought a bottle of Kabala water, shoved into my already bursting moon and stars handbag.

  I looked around the homey apartment and focused in on the girl. I saw a photo of her and kept that image in my mind.

  But, like pages torn out of a book, other images began to flood my psychic screen.

  Broken glass.

  A mermaid.

  Blood and a knife.

  Screams filled my head and the thrumming of drums beating out a rhythm inside my skull began at breakneck speed. Images of fists flying, tables knocked over, dirt all over and a message in blood.

  The scene played over.

  Blood and a knife.

  I listened for a voice, for any message that might come through, but there was something more ominous. Silence.

  Like a fun house mirror at the carnival, the images sporadically flashed by. There were people, a male and a female, but their forms were so distorted I couldn’t make out anything other than their gender.

  And blood and a knife.

  Once more I forced the picture of little Sara into my mind, and again, as before, she was ripped out. All that remained were shattered pieces of glass and blood, along with the knife.

  Holding onto the photo of Sara, I looked at her mom and my eyes began to sting. I walked out onto their terrace and took some deep breaths and a few gulps of water.

  I took in my surroundings. The images refused to evaporate into the ethers where they belonged. Breathing deeply, I brushed the tears from my eyes. What could be said to this woman? There were no words of comfort to offer.

  Closing my eyes and saying a silent prayer to the Goddess for some guidance, I headed back inside. Sara’s mom started to get exceedingly distressed. All I could hear in my mind was the phrase, come back, and the wailing of a woman whose heart shattered and cleaved out from her very being.

  My brain scrambled for the words that would sound convincing enough to ease this poor woman’s torture. There were none. I couldn’t bear to even think how I would feel if I were in her place. Finally, I could not put off what I must do.

  “I—I wish I could’ve helped you. I’m just not getting anything,” I professed.

  “Nothing?” Sean asked. His eyes pleaded, asking questions his lips refused to utter.

  “It happens sometimes. I could try again if you’d like, another time, perhaps?”

  Then it came, the tears and frantic p
leading of a mother desperately trying to get to her child. “You’re that woman from TV, I know you can help me, please—are you certain you didn’t see anything? I went to another psychic and she said my baby’s alive. Are you positive? Absolutely certain?” She wept. “Please try again. I’ll pay you any amount of money.”

  “I don’t want any money. I’m sorry.” I was going to lose control if I stayed any longer. My composure was falling apart. The emotional frequency in the room was too turbulent and it pounded at me. “I am truly sorry. I will come back if you like, just let the detective know.”

  Walking out and down the paved walkway, I burst into tears. My heart broke into a myriad of tiny pieces for that poor woman.

  Sean was right behind me. He put his hand on my shoulder as I continued to sob. He gently pushed my hair back, off my bare shoulder. I reached into my bag and pulled out a tissue. My body was shaking and I couldn’t stop crying. He awkwardly took me in his arms and held me for a moment, trying to calm me down. Whether he knew it or not, he was an immediate ground for me. I sighed heavily, releasing the pent-up emotions as I leaned into his capable shoulder.

  Finally, he spoke. “What happened in there?” Rubbing my arms and wiping my tears away, he continued to hold me.

  Shaking my head, I raised my hand to signal him to give me a moment. My throat was still choked up. I took in a few more deep breaths.

  “When you first went in there, the apartment, was there anything out of place?” I asked, wiping my nose.

  “No, not at all, just as you see it, that’s how it was,” he answered.

  “Then what I saw had nothing to do with the little girl,” I said desolately.

  He waited before asking the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. “What exactly did you see?” he asked, looking into my eyes.

  “You don’t want to know,” I moaned, and we made our way back to his car.

  “Yeah, well…tell me anyway.” He smiled and patted my back.

  I took in another deep breath, letting it slowly out before I went into the details of what I’d witnessed in that living room. “There was broken glass and mirror all over, and dirt and blood. The room was a mess and something was written in blood. There was also a knife.”