Every Witch Way But Dead Read online

  The next few moments were a complete blur. I vaguely remember Marc running out, grabbing me and trying to get me inside.

  “Amber—my baby’s in the Blazer!”

  “Ronnie, get some scissors,” he shouted, running to the street. “It’s okay, angel—it’s me, Marc.” He gently brought her out of the truck. Ronnie ran over with the scissors, cut me loose then released Amber from her bondage.

  Sounds of sirens filled the air and swarms of police cars invaded the block. There was Heena running at breakneck speed to the Arthurs.

  I clutched onto Amber and sobbed as we held each other tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Mom, I’m so sorry. From now on I will listen to you, you were right about Lance. I’m sorry,” she whimpered.

  I then heard Heena. “They are fine. I don’t know what happened, but he’s dead. Yes, I’ll put her on,” she said, handing me her cell phone.

  “I’m right outside the development with Steven, they won’t let us through yet. They’ve had it closed off,” Jon relayed. I could hear him struggling to keep calm. “How are you? How’s Amber?”

  “I—I’m f-fine, a little c-cut up, horrified and sh-shaken, but okay. Amber’s fine. The same. She’s not cut, though—she’s just t-terrified. It was h-horrible—but she’s a resilient young woman.” I couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Like her mother,” Jon said. I could tell he’d been crying.

  Sean rushed over to me and got the paramedics to dress my wound. He ably lifted me onto a stretcher and made sure the EMTs attended to me, never leaving my side. “She’s going into shock,” he called to the nearest medic. “You’ll be all right, Angel,” he whispered.

  I passed out.

  I awakened to find my wounds bandaged. I’d been wrapped in a warm blanket. I tried to explain as best I could what happened. But Sean didn’t believe that Cliff had suddenly become so altruistic. It wasn’t as simple as that. In fact, it was far from it.

  I lay in the ambulance with Amber by my side. The police were searching the grounds for the gunman, but so far all they found was a nine millimeter shell casing. I suspected they never would find the actual shooter.

  “Angel, before you go I thought you’d like to know. Sara, the little girl that’s been missing, we found her,” Sean said with a big grin. “She was located in an apartment complex in Glendale Cove. The father’s girlfriend was keeping her there. Just like you said. I owe you an apology. The mom wants to thank you when this all settles down. I’m sorry I got you involved in all this. I really feel terrible that your family had to be dragged into this mess.”

  I could see and more importantly feel that he really did mean what he said. “You don’t owe me anything, Sean, and you don’t need to apologize. I got involved on my own. Can I go now?”

  “No, you’re off to the hospital. I think you’re going to need a few stitches. Do you want me to come along? Is your husband here?” he asked.

  “I don’t know if they let him through. Everything’s barricaded.”

  He winked. “I’ll find him and tell him where they’re taking you.”

  “Thanks. Oh, Sean?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I thought there was supposed to be an officer watching the house.”

  “There was, but my superiors let him go—cutbacks.”

  I winced at the cut on my own back. The irony.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Angelite is believed to be helpful in telepathic communication. If two people desire to be linked in mind, they should each carry a piece of Angelite crystal. In mediation it facilitates one to communicate with spirit guides and, as its name suggests, angels. Its light-blue color is associated with healing anger, especially anger caused by lack of communication. ~ From Angelica Kane’s Workshop on Angels.

  Ronnie told the story of how she met Cliff to me, Ivy and Amber. “He’d been the landscaper at Marc’s old house. I did meet him before I met Marc. I flirted a little, but it was harmless. We were friends, a little innocent kissing, but I never slept with him. Once I met Marc, my heart went to him. Cliff began helping with the equipment on tours. He also dabbled with the guitar. He was good and I tried to get him to start his own band. So did Marc.”

  Ronnie took a long pause. “We had our guys in the band. They’ve been playing together for years. There’s a chemistry between the members. It didn’t work out for Cliff. I guess he took my kindness for something else. Then he started getting possessive, wanting to hang out with just me. He wanted to perform rituals together. I think he really snapped when Marc and I were engaged. That’s when Glenn, our old manager fired him,” Ronnie confided. “I never thought his feelings ran that deep and were filled with such hate. I just feel so responsible for Diane’s and Becky’s deaths.”

  She began to weep once more. I had my own feelings of responsibility and they ran too deep to admit, I had a hard road ahead. We all did.

  Ivy sat and listened to all three of us, Ronnie, Amber and me. Trying to make some sense out of all of this was going to take a lot more time than one evening, if it ever could be.

  * * *

  It was long after midnight by the time we’d finished our session. Marc and Ronnie thanked Ivy, said their good-byes and headed home. It had been a long and tiresome day. Heena brought over some sedatives for me and sleep aids, samples her husband had. It definitely came in handy having them as our physicians. Heena checked out Amber, and when Nan got home from the hospital, he checked me again, to make sure the sutures weren’t bleeding. We would be fine in time.

  The girls waited patiently. Kara made the soup that was supposed to be that night’s dinner and a salad. As I walked into the kitchen, I looked out the window and noticed my Explorer in the driveway. It was illuminated by the street lanterns. I must have left the keys in it. How it got back was a mystery.

  In the kitchen, sitting next to Marisa, was Vinny, eating a bowl of soup. He got up and walked over, arms outstretched. I began to cry, losing my composure all over again. He embraced me with a warmth that was at once calming and protective.

  “You left your keys in the ignition, you should know better,” he whispered. “Everything all right? You okay? Did he—you know—hurt you?”

  “No, n-not that way and nothing that won’t heal in time. In fact, I think I hurt him. I-I’m all right. I’m not making any sense. I don’t know how to thank you…” I said, trying to hug him without straining against the stitches.

  “Hey, that’s what family is for.” He winked. “How’s Amber?”

  “Jon brought her upstairs to bed, she took a sedative, I don’t really know. Time will tell.” I began to cry.

  “He didn’t hurt her did he? You know what I mean, cuz?”

  “No, he didn’t, she said he just scared her, but no, he didn’t touch her.”

  I hooked my arm through his and walked into the den, nursing my side. The pain pills were beginning to kick in.

  I looked up at him and had to ask. “How?”

  He took his hands and cupped my face. “Don’t you worry your gorgeous little head. You did great. You gave me the time I needed and it’s done. No one needs to know how, who, when or why. The less you know, the better, doll. Especially with that cop friend of yours asking questions.” He winked at me. “Yeah, Ivy tells me stuff.”

  I began to sob again. “Thank you, Vinny.”

  We headed back into the kitchen. Vinny took Jon into the den and the two were gone for quite a while. I sat down, too exhausted to investigate that little scenario.

  Soon my cousin emerged from the den, frowning. “I didn’t call your mother, Angie. I figured it’s something you better tell her in person, so she can see you’re all right.”

  I smiled. “Jon called her. She was bound to see it on the news. Thanks for everything, Vinny.”

  “Come on, Ivy, sweetheart, you promised me a ride home,” Vinny teased, his mood suddenly lighter.

  Ivy questioned me lightheartedly. “Can I trust this tall, dark and handsome man,
Angie?”

  “You couldn’t be in better hands.”

  * * *

  My three sons watched as my coven sisters, who could wait no longer, surrounded me with gentle hugs, kisses and lots of love. Marisa was crying profusely, Ouida was beaming proudly and Kara was a total wreck. Lily stood in the background taking it all in. Kara spoke first, “You ladies are all going to learn self defense. I’ve decided to teach a class at the shop.”

  “You did good, little sister, the spirits are very pleased with you,” Ouida cajoled.

  “The spirits did good by me, too! What did you do? At one point the knife Cliff held got red hot, and then his head was pounding and his eyes were tearing.”

  “Not us—we did protection only,” Ouida informed me.

  “Ah—I knew it! It was Amber, she had this crazed look in her eyes and she was staring at Cliff as if she was throwing daggers at him. I’d never seen her like that—ever!”

  “The little witch is coming into her powers!” Marisa laughed.

  We all felt a great sadness about those who had gone to the Summerland. They would undoubtedly be remembered this coming Samhain. There were still many unanswered questions, but they would wait for another day. We deserved to laugh, and we did, in full agreement about the newest witch in the family.

  Finally, we were all able to let our guards down, to let go of the past. When time created enough distance, I would explore this relationship that Cliff and I had. I was grateful I could count on Ivy to help me on this journey. Not too many people would understand. Jon especially.

  I knew the next few months would be a busy time. My husband and I had many things to discuss. We both were guilty of keeping secrets from each other and somehow that needed to be dealt with—his fancy luncheon dates with overly affectionate clients, and mine with handsome detectives. Perhaps an unbiased marriage counselor was in our future.

  Through it all, I found it comforting knowing that love transcends time. As misguided as Cliff was with his tortured past that haunted him, in the end it was love that set him free.

  May Wine

  ½ cup strawberries, sliced

  1 bottle of white wine (German is ideal)

  12 sprigs of woodruff, fresh

  Pour wine into a wide mouth jar or carafe. Add the sliced strawberries and woodruff, and let sit for an hour or more. Strain and serve chilled.

  * * *

  Lavender Rosemary Lemonade

  1 quart fresh squeezed or pre-made lemonade

  1 tsp. to 1 Tbsp. culinary lavender

  1 cup boiling water

  1 sprig of fresh rosemary

  Add sugar to taste

  Pour boiling water over the lavender and rosemary, allow to steep for 10 min. Strain out herbs and add to the lemonade. Serve well chilled. ~ Recipe from Angelica Kane

  * * *

  Lavender Cream Scones

  2 cups Pastry Flour

  1 Tbsp Baking Powder

  1/4 tsp Salt

  4 Tbsp Lavender Sugar

  6 Tbsp Butter

  1/3 cup Cream or Milk

  1 Tbsp Lavender Buds

  2 Eggs, beaten

  In a mixing bowl combine flour, baking powder, salt, and Lavender Sugar (see recipe garnish below). With a pastry blender or two knives, cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Meanwhile, bring the cream and Culinary Lavender just to a boil. Remove from heat and allow Lavender flavor to infuse for 20 minutes. Then strain out lavender flowers and discard them.

  Now in a separate bowl combine eggs and Lavender cream until well blended. Stir cream mixture into dry ingredients until they are moistened. Divide the dough into two 8-inch rounds on a greased baking sheet. Cut the dough with a sharp knife into 8 wedges. Brush the top with milk and sprinkle with sugar. Bake at 400°F for 10 to 15 minutes or until the scones are a golden brown. Over baking will result in dry scones. Oven temperatures DO vary so remember to check your scones at least five minutes before your baking time is up.

  Garnish: Lavender powdered sugar

  (To make lavender powdered sugar, put a few lavender flowers in a sealed, pint jar of powdered sugar for a day before using sugar.)

  Lavender scones and garnish recipes used with permission and thanks from:

  http://www.lavenderfarms.net/hoodriverlavender/contact.html

  Hood River Lavender

  P.O. Box 266

  Odell, OR 97044

  541-386-9100

  * * *

  Caramel Pecan Apple Pie

  15 oz. pkg. all ready pie crusts, or make your own

  1 tsp. flour

  FILLING:

  6 c. thinly sliced peeled apples

  3/4 c. sugar

  1/4 c. flour

  1/4 tsp. salt

  2 tbsp. Butter

  GLAZE:

  1/3 c. caramel topping

  2-4 tbsp. chopped pecans

  Prepare pie crust according to package directions for two-crust pie. Heat oven to 425 degrees.

  In large bowl, combine apples sugar, flour, and salt; toss lightly. Spoon apple mixture into pie crust lined pie. Dot with butter. Top with second crust and flute; cut slits in several places. Bake at 425 degrees for 35-45 minutes or until apples are tender. Remove pie from oven; immediately drizzle with caramel topping. Sprinkle with nuts.

  TIP: Cover edge of pie crust with strip of foil during last 10-15 minutes of baking if necessary to prevent excessive browning. Serves 8.

  About the Author

  To learn more about the author please visit http://b-elladonna.com. Send an email to Ella at [email protected] or join her Myspace group to join in the fun with other readers as well as B. Ella Donna.

  http://myspace.com/elladonna

  My Blog http://luna-chyck.blogspot.com

  Surgeon Victor Galloway kept death at bay in the operating

  room—now death has claimed him. Resurrected against his

  will, he must fight for his family and his soul.

  Dark Resurrection

  © 2007 John A. Karr

  Victor Galloway is a prominent surgeon and family man. When he suffers a heart attack, he claws his way to the phone and dials 911. The paramedics arrive, smile down at him and quickly administer a lethal injection.

  Victor's life is ending, but his nightmare has just begun.

  Close to death and strapped to a gurney, he's offered an unholy deal by Tobias, H.E.L.L.'s CEO: Use his surgical skills to harvest the living to feed the undead in exchange for immortality.

  Refused but not to be denied, Tobias presses his unwilling recruit into the ranks of the undead. Whether by chance or divine intervention, Victor is different from the others. He is a monster with a conscience, a force for good ensnared by evil, and the only one willing to stand against Tobias and his burgeoning nest of zombies. He must destroy them, but doing so risks the lives of his family and the last hospital employee with a pulse.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Dark Resurrection:

  It was easier to think now, Victor realized, as he watched the grave robber race away, over the headstone-laden hillsides before finally disappearing into the night. He’d become fully conscious. Was it triggered by anger?

  Something had made him want to tear the grave robber apart, something other than the contempt Victor felt toward the man. What it was, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he’d had a massive urge to break the man’s neck, rip him open and…

  Jesus.

  He’d wanted to feed on the man.

  How utterly repulsive.

  Even so, it had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to surrender to the urge.

  Urge? No, not just an urge. It went far deeper and came on far stronger. It was an instinct. One that had set in with this—what should he call it?—second existence.

  Now the grave robber was gone, the instinct to kill and feed had backed down, but by no means had it disappeared. Instead, it lay hidden in the shadows of his new psyche, a famished lion crouching in tall savannah gr
ass, muscles tensed and fangs bared, waiting for the right moment to charge forward and spring with lethal power onto the back of some unwary prey.

  As revolting as this inhuman instinct was, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to control it next time. It was too strong. He also had the disturbing feeling that with time it was going to grow and dominate him until it became impossible to ignore.

  God, what had he become?

  In his previous life he’d been Victor Galloway.

  But who was he now? What was he?

  He was no longer Victor Galloway. His sense of self—his soul?—was housed in Victor Galloway’s body, but the body had changed. It felt familiar and unnatural to him at the same time. The body carried out his mental commands with frightful speed and power, but it was like some kind of exoskeleton that merely contained his sentience. His mental processes had changed as well. The vibrancy and beauty and tangible feel of life had been stripped away. Now the world was shrouded in a perpetual shadow, as if he now moved through some dark, unsavory dream.

  He existed, but he didn’t belong. Having gone through death and now this…resurrection…he no longer felt a part of the natural world.

  He stared at the headstone of his grave. Carved upon it was his name, two of the most important dates of his life, and a simple phrase:

  Here lies our beloved Victor,

  Loving husband, caring father,

  Too soon taken from us.

  It moved him.

  Even through the veil of this strange existence, he could feel the pain invoked by those words. It was pain that scalded his throat to form a blazing pool at the base of his tainted soul.