Page 7 of Cursed (Witchbane #8)
“I know we can’t ride the bike everywhere, but it’s a damn sight easier to park.” Seth angled the truck into a spot that provided a clear line of sight to the bar and an easy getaway.
“And cold. Don’t forget cold,” Evan teased.
“That, too. Although not as bad down here as back home,” Seth replied.
Mystic took up the bottom floor of an old brick building with large windows and a tastefully lit sign.
The bar had a comfortable neighborhood hangout vibe, and Seth felt comfortable immediately when they walked in.
Dark wood paneling and brass fixtures gave an upscale touch without seeming stuffy.
Framed pictures showed city life in Savannah throughout the years.
“Let’s go in and see if Nash is working. Maybe Caden will drop by after his shift.” Seth locked the truck as they walked away.
Memorabilia about the Savannah music scene—band photos, concert broadsides, and framed albums—covered the walls. A small stage at one end sat empty at the moment, but the sign on the wall announced upcoming acts.
“Hey.” Evan gently elbowed Seth to get his attention. “Check out the set list. I guess Pax’s boyfriend is more than a casual musician.”
“Tony Spencer,” Seth murmured, pointing to the familiar name on the lineup. “I wonder if we’ll get the chance to hear him play.”
“Teag said that sometimes Tony busks near Pax’s food truck, so maybe he’ll be playing when we’re staking out the location,” Evan replied.
They headed for the bar and waited for someone to take their order. Evan recognized the bar owner from the photos Cassidy and Teag had shared.
Nash Arden appeared to be in his early thirties, with reddish-blond hair and scruff. His green eyes sparkled as he bantered with customers while shaking a cocktail. A gold ring glinted on the third finger of his left hand. When they got closer, Evan could see that his nametag read, “Nash—Owner.”
A second bartender worked the other end of the very busy counter, and servers relayed drink orders from the customers seated at tables.
Evan felt a pang of nostalgia since he had been a bartender in Richmond before Seth saved him from the witch-disciple. He had enjoyed the work, although he never planned to make it his career. The freelance projects he did now satisfied his creativity and suited his new nomadic lifestyle.
“What can I get you?” Nash asked when he worked his way down to them.
“You brew your own beer?” Seth asked.
“Sure do,” Nash replied with pride. “Best in Savannah.”
“Two glasses then of your favorite,” Seth ordered. “I’m Seth, and this is Evan. Some mutual friends may have mentioned we were coming to town.”
The look in Nash’s eyes turned assessing, although his smile held. “Yep. Been expecting you. I can’t talk right now, but give me half an hour, and I’ll have someone to cover for me.” He turned away to pull their drinks and slid them across the bar. “Enjoy.”
Seth and Evan turned their backs to the bar and looked out over the small restaurant. It felt genuinely cozy, without the forced ambiance of tourist traps. The patrons ranged from young professionals who looked like they stopped in after work to retirees and travelers.
Evan tried to listen in on the conversations near him at the bar, but didn’t pick up anything out of the ordinary.
Before long, Nash returned. “C’mon. My folks can cover for me for a while. I’ve got a back table where we can talk. Caden will be here soon, once his shift ends.”
They took their drinks and followed Nash to a small booth set off by itself, angled so that Nash could watch the restaurant but far enough from other tables to afford privacy.
“Glad you’re here,” Nash said once they got settled. “Cassidy briefed me on your background and what you’ve been doing. How can we help?”
“I don’t know yet,” Seth replied. “We just got to town, and we’re getting our bearings. Tomorrow we’ll observe the guy who’s the next target and figure out how to approach him.”
“I wish we could just introduce ourselves, explain the danger, and have him and his boyfriend just ride off into the sunset so we can deal with the threat, but it never works that way,” Evan said. “I was a target, and I didn’t believe Seth until I got kidnapped to be the next offering.”
“We’ve also got to figure out what serves as the anchor for the bad guy’s magic, because we’re going to have to destroy it,” Seth added.
Seth slid a photo of Pax and Tony across the table. “Pax is the target. Tony’s his partner.”
“I recognize these guys. They come in pretty often for dinner. Tony plays in our live music rotation. In fact, he’s playing tonight. They seem like good folks.” Nash frowned as if thinking. “If it’s a generational sacrifice, how come the target doesn’t realize it?”
Evan extended his senses, getting a feel for Nash’s abilities as a medium.
“You and I are used to seeing ghosts.” Evan met Nash’s gaze and saw the man’s surprise when he took Evan’s meaning.
“That makes it a little easier to accept things out of the ordinary. Regular people don’t have that.
And the disciples have had a century to learn to cover their tracks.
They know how to hide in plain sight and create plausible explanations for the disappearances and deaths.
Normal folks don’t think this kind of thing happens except on TV.
I wish they were right.” He paused. “I didn’t believe Seth when he first told me and almost got us both killed. ”
“I’ve lived in this town all my life and certainly never even caught a whisper of something like that going on.
Despite being in the Bible Belt, Savannah has a fairly large and vibrant occult and paranormal community.
Witches, mediums, and people with special insight like Caden.
This is the South. It’s one of those things everyone knows about and no one mentions,” Nash said.
“Talk to people who grew up here for long, and they know someone with a sixth sense or who was a ghost whisperer, or could put a root on someone who vexed them. Officially, the Church disapproves, but in practice, there’s nothing they can do about it,” Nash added.
“Hi, sorry I’m late.” A blue-eyed, dark-haired man walked up to stand beside Nash and laid a hand on his shoulder, a proprietary touch that spoke volumes. Evan noticed the matching gold ring on the newcomer’s left hand. “I’m Caden.”
“I’m Seth, and this is my partner, Evan,” Seth introduced. “Glad you could join us.”
Caden slid in beside Nash. “For what it’s worth, it was a quiet shift at the station tonight.”
“Quiet is good,” Nash clarified. “Caden’s a detective with the Savannah Police Department.”
Cassidy had told them that Nash was a medium and Caden had psychometry, the ability to read the history of objects by touching them. He wondered how Caden had managed his psychic ability with the demands of his job and didn’t envy him the struggle.
“I did some digging on the name you gave me—Paxton Miller,” Caden said.
“He’s clean, not even a parking ticket for his food truck.
According to official records, his father died of a heart attack while deer hunting, and a search party found his body in the woods.
Paxton’s grandfather was killed in a car accident when his truck went into a ravine, and he was found a few days later in the wreckage. ”
Nash had gone silent, with a far-away look in his eyes that Evan recognized. Evan felt the presence of the ghosts as well, but sensed that they gathered around Nash, so he let the other medium take the lead.
“My sources say that isn’t the whole truth,” Nash said quietly, referring to the ghosts. “They don’t remember all the details, but they agree that there was a man and a strange light and that their bodies were moved from somewhere else.”
Evan and Seth exchanged a glance. “That’s actually very helpful,” Seth said. “It squares with the idea of the coven and the ritual. They’ve made an effort to cover their tracks. I’m guessing no one questioned the deaths at the time?”
Caden shook his head. “Not from any records I could find. Deer hunting kills a surprising number of hunters as well as deer, and the ravine where the truck was found is infamous around here as a ‘dead man’s curve’ for accidents.
If someone was covering up dark deeds, they knew what they were doing. ”
“Vernon’s had a century of practice,” Evan said with a touch of bitterness. “And the ritual doesn’t have to leave marks depending on how it’s done.”
“I also checked offline deed records that hadn’t been digitized for the names you gave me,” Caden added, referring to Vernon’s past aliases. “Currently, he owns a restaurant, warehouse, an import/export business, and his home under his name, as well as cars and at least one cargo ship.”
Seth nodded. “We found those. But we could only go back so far online to see if he bought properties in the past under other names and still held onto them. It could be handy to know.”
Evan knew Seth suspected that the coven’s meeting place and the location for the ritual sacrifices were likely to be somewhere Vernon owned or controlled.
“Most of the old properties don’t exist anymore,” Caden said.
“Not surprising. Some of them burned. Most were repurposed or torn down. For the ones that were sold, I checked the buyers’ names against the alias list, in case he was selling to his new persona.
I only found one property like that, an old turpentine plant from the 1920s. ”
“Interesting,” Evan said. “It’s just sat empty since then?”
Caden shrugged. “Apparently. It’s in an out-of-the-way location for current traffic patterns, and there hasn’t been enough development around it to put a premium on the land.”
That sounded like the perfect spot for Vernon and his witches to work their ritual, where they wouldn’t be noticed or disturbed. Magic could hide their coming and going for sporadic gatherings, especially since the big event would have more than a decade between recurrences.