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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Brenda arrived at eleven-forty-five. She paid the cab and slogged through the snow, up the walkway, which was covered again. I caught sight of her through the window and let her in.

“Hey,” I said, reaching to take her coat. “How are you doing?”

“Not bad. Still a little shaken from yesterday, but doing better.” She looked around. “What a cozy home.”

“My aunt’s done a lot over the years to make it that way. I grew up here, from the time I was seven. My aunt and her sister raised me, after my parents died. So, my aunt is making chicken tenders, salad and rolls for lunch. Will that be okay?”

Brenda nodded. “That sounds wonderful. Do you have any tea?”

“I think so.” We entered the kitchen, where Astra was starting to cook the chicken. The rolls were in the oven. My stomach rumbled. Even after the big breakfast, the smell of yeast and baking bread always triggered my appetite.

“Astra, this is Brenda. Brenda, my aunt—Astra.”

Astra gave her a wave with the tongs.

“Do we have tea?” I foraged in the cupboard. I knew my aunt occasionally drank herbal tisanes, but as for actual tea, I wasn’t sure.

“We do. It’s in the box with the hyacinths on it,” Astra said.

I poked around and finally found the lovely little box Astra was talking about. I opened it to find a stack of black tea in sealed bags. I glanced over at Brenda.

“How strong do you want it? One teabag? Two?”

“One, please, with a little milk and sugar.”

I found a large china cup with red and white stripes on it, placed the teabag in it, then carried it over to the table. After that, I plugged in the electric kettle, found the creamer, and placed it and the sugar bowl on the table.

Then, I poured myself a glass of sparkling water, added ice, and then topped it off with lemon coffee syrup, for a make-shift Italian soda. The kettle began to steam and I poured water into the tea cup, then turned it off and stood beside Brenda, who had scooted into the booth.

“This won’t really work for lunch, so let’s go into the dining room,” I said. “Follow me, please.” I led her into the dining room, where we sat at the table. “My aunt’s going to renovate—we’ll have a bigger kitchen by the end of the summer, I predict. I love the breakfast nook, but it really is too cramped. I’ve decided to stay here with her for…well…I don’t know how long.”

“It really is a cozy home. You’ve seen my house. It’s about as far from cozy as you can get. So, let’s discuss that creature in my house. Do you think it’s Edgar?”

“I think it could be. How long has it been around?” I asked.

“Off and on, since Edgar died.” She paused, then a light bulb went off and she stiffened. “Oh good heavens, I just realized something.”

“What is it?”

“The activity picked up every time that I decided to try dating again. I’d get distracted by it and wipe my profile off of the dating apps. Except this time, it wasn’t a dating app. I came to you. Maybe that’s why I’ve been having nightmares about you—maybe Edgar’s threatening you because you’re helping me.” Brenda leaned forward, tapping the table with her perfectly manicured nails. “I know I’m right.”

A little bell rang. “You hit the nail on the head. I think… Yes. That snake creature that showed up here? I’ll bet it was Edgar and he managed to hitchhike a ride home with me that night. When we patched the break in the grid, he was sent back to your house. That means, he’s doubly dangerous. Not only can he affect the physical world, he can move around. And that makes him a Haunt. Haunts are dangerous.”

“Yes, they are,” Brenda said. “I grew up in Whisper Hollow. I know all too much about Haunts.” She sighed. “What do we do? He’ll ruin any relationship I manage to get into. If I even manage to find someone.”

“Well, we have to exorcise him,” I said. “We’ll get rid of him.”

“Are you trained to do that?” she asked.

I’d done several house clearings over the years, and I’d dealt with spirits off and on, but I wasn’t confident in my ability to take on the bigger nasties and come out without something going awry.

“Well, I’m not entirely sure. But my aunt’s good at it, and maybe she’d be willing to help out?—”

“Maybe I’d be willing to help out on what?” Astra asked, entering the dining room, a platter of chicken tenders in one hand, and a basket of rolls in the other. “Can you set the table, please?”

I jumped up. “I’ll be right back.”

Gathering the plates, silverware, and the salad, I managed to balance all of them and return to the table without any accidents. We sorted out the dishes and settled in for lunch.

“We think Brenda’s late husband is haunting her,” I said.

“I thought back to every time I’ve started to look at dating again. Each time, something happens—never anything good—that totally disrupts my plans. Ghostly activity, appliances breaking down so that I have to focus on home repair, the car’s brakes going—I was in an accident a couple years back, and it could have been deadly. I was lucky that the other driver was able to get out of the way. I spun into a tree, but hit on the backside of the car, on the passenger side. Luckily, I was able to get out and away before the fire started.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” I said. “I can’t imagine how scary the accident yesterday must have been for you.”

Brenda nodded. “I do have some PTSD over it, and yesterday didn’t help. That’s one reason I let them take me to the hospital. I wanted to make certain everything was okay.”

“If Edgar is trying to stop you from dating, then he’s angry at you…or he loved you so much that?—”

“Angry would be correct,” Brenda said. “He didn’t want me when he had me, but he didn’t want me to be happy with anybody else. He refused to get a divorce, even though I asked him a couple times. I would have left, but he frightened me. And then, our people don’t condone divorce. He hadn’t outright hit me, so I didn’t have a case for the council. And now, I have the house, I have the money, and he’s…dead.”

Astra set down her fork and closed her eyes. “I can feel him poking around. He’s trying to break through the wards, to hear what we’re talking about. But he can’t.”

“ This time. I think he was the snake creature,” I said. “Brenda’s had several nightmares about me being in danger.”

“You’re trying to help me,” Brenda said. “Now that we’re talking about this, I can so see Edgar trying to hurt you.”

“We wondered if you might be able to help me exorcise Edgar,” I said, turning to Astra. “I’m afraid that I’m not strong enough.”

“I disagree, but I can help, this time . But I think you need to develop these abilities on your own,” my aunt said. “You’re going to need them, and I can’t always be there. So I want you to sign up for some remedial classes at Midnight Manor Academy. They have continuing adult education.”

“Whatever you say,” I said. “So, what do we do first?”

“First?” Astra said. “First, we enjoy lunch. Then, we’ll strategize and take care of your ex for good.”

After lunch, Brenda left, heading back to her hotel. I brought up the Midnight Manor website and clicked on the section for continuing education, and scrolled through the offerings. Astra had given me a list of what I should take. The school worked on a semester system, and the new semester had started, but there were still a couple of days to enroll.

I found a basic exorcism class, along with a class on cryptozoology that sounded interesting, and a class on advanced protection. That was all the credit load I could handle, along with running my business, so I added them to the cart—so to speak—and hit checkout .

Unlike regular classes, I didn’t need to be enrolled to take them.

I entered my credit card information, printed out the receipt and the schedule, and stared at the page. I’d basically signed away any free time I had. My first class was next week, and I’d have classes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings.

“Are you almost ready to go? Nightshade will be waiting and the last thing we want is to be late. One thing you need to know about her: if we have a meeting, be there on time. She doesn’t tolerate tardiness, and it’s a good way to get assigned to the grunt chores of the coven. It doesn’t matter what seniority level you’re at. I spent an entire month being in charge of tending the compost for the Dark Moon Society’s herb garden tow years ago, and that wasn’t my idea of fun, even though I’m an earth witch.”

“When are meetings? I signed up for three classes, each one meets one day a week. Or evening, rather.” If I joined the Society, I didn’t want to get stuck with mucking around in decaying vegetable matter.

“Saturday nights, except on the week of the Full Moon, then we meet that night. But the academy understands, and with continuing education classes, it’s not like you’ll get kicked out of school.” Astra had changed into a nice pantsuit, rather than her jeans and T-shirt. “Go dress, and hurry up. We don’t want to be late.”

“What should I wear?” I had no clue what one wore when meeting a high priestess.

“Something on the order of what you were wearing last night—the leggings, tunic outfit.”

“That’s doable.” I hurried to my room, where I decided that last night’s dress was still clean enough to wear again, though I’d put on clean leggings. I brushed my hair back into a pony tail, and touched up my makeup, then slid into a pair of knee high snow boots. They weren’t Uggs, but they had the same look. As I returned to the living room, Astra gave me an approving nod.

“That works. Grab your purse and let’s go.”

As we headed out to the car, I caught my breath. The world was crystal white. Everywhere, the blanket of white cloaked dirt and grime, and the entire world seemed to sparkle.

Nightshade lived on the opposite side of town, so we took it nice and easy, and tried to avoid the side streets until we couldn’t. The high priestess lived on a slope, but Astra had snow tires and we managed to plow our way up the hill, sliding a little, until we were at the top. It was a slow incline, thank gods. If it had been any steeper, even snow tires wouldn’t have been enough.

“How long till we get back to rain and gloom?” Astra asked. “This is pretty but I think we’ve had more than our share.”

“It’s supposed to taper off tonight and by late next week, we’ll be back to regular temperatures and rain. But with this much snow, it could take a while to fully melt.” I’d been checking my weather app quite a bit over the past few days.

“There, ahead—that’s Nightshade’s house.”

Nightshade lived in a Victorian house which brought to mind gazebos and garden parties and colorful rooms filled with nicknacks. Only Nightshade’s house was painted a leaf green on the outside, blending in with the surrounding trees. She lived on a heavily wooded lot, offering her privacy from her neighbors.

“The garden’s around back,” Astra said.

“Well, it’s a beautiful place, at least from the outside,” I said. “She’s taken really good care of the place, it looks like.”

“She does. No cobwebs and spooky corners for her, I’ll tell you that. The inside’s been renovated—well, you’ll see. Just don’t expect tiny rooms and velveteen settees.”

We parked in the driveway, and there was a stone path leading from the drive to the main sidewalk. Both were coated with snow, but it was obvious that they’d been shoveled at some point that morning. We passed beneath the branches of a large oak that grew up next to the side of the house. It shaded the drive, the stone path leading to the main walkway, and the side yard. Beneath the oak, a cluster of ferns rose, almost waist high, and I could easily imagine crocuses and tulips and daffodils peeking out, come spring.

Beside the steep staircase leading up to the porch, a long ramp with a gentle grade stretched out. Both steps and ramp had guard rails, and the steps were snow-free, as was the ramp.

“How does she keep them free of snow? Does she shovel every five minutes?” I noticed that as the snow met the wood, it melted, vanishing into thin trickles of water.

“They’re heated. It could be radiant heat like we have in the house, perhaps. Nightshade has a lot of clients that come visit her. She needs to have easy access for them to enter her home.”

Astra rang the bell and, within seconds, a woman answered the door. She must have been in her late thirties, and she was wearing an apron over a flowered dress.

“We’re here to see Nightshade. She’s expecting us,” Astra started to say.

“Oh yes, Ms. Svensson, please come in.” She stood back, escorting us in and taking our coats before we could say another word. “Ms. Evergreen is waiting in the living room, please go ahead.”

“Thank you, Irena.” As Astra led us toward the right, the maid—I assumed she was the maid—hung up our jackets.

The foyer led into a massive room. Astra was right, the house had been renovated far from the original, because most Victorian homes had tiny, cramped rooms.

The room we entered was the size of three rooms, at minimum, and it was clean, tidy, and polished. The floor was marble, with an outer perimeter polished black, and the inner pattern a shade that reminded me of a dirty gold or a gold-olive.

The sofa and chairs were black leather and green microfiber, the inset shelves some sort of ebony wood, and the accents were dark steel and glass. All in all, it felt like we were in a professional conservatory, with the myriad plants scattered around the room. The diffused light came from both the ceiling chandelier, and inset side lights that glimmered with a warm, comforting glow, yet were still bright enough to read by.

One thing was abundantly clear to me: Nightshade had money, exquisite taste, and the place reeked of magic and power.

“Please sit down,” Irena said, entering the room. “May I offer you something to drink? Lemonade? Coffee? Tea?”

“I’ll have coffee, thank you. Espresso, if you have it.”

“Of course. How many shots and would you like milk or cream with that?”

“Three shots, a little cream, and one sugar, please.”

“Very good. And for you, Ms. Svensson?” She never missed a beat, turning smoothly to my aunt. She had her role down pat, that much was for sure.

“Raspberry tea,” Astra said.

Once again, Irena left the room. I was about to ask Astra what sort of business Nightshade ran, when the high priestess entered the room. Even if I hadn’t known whose house we were in, I would have been able to pinpoint Nightshade solely on the magic that emanated from her. She was a woman who controlled her element, and she controlled the room.

“Astra, thank you for coming,” Nightshade said. Although she was a little older, her witchblood heritage took away any sense of frailty.

Nightshade was wearing a pair of olive knit palazzo pants, with a white button down shirt, and a black lace shawl. She had on a chunky necklace that I guessed was olivine and moss agate, and matching earrings. A large cocktail ring—topaz—graced her middle finger, and her sleek silver hair was pulled back into a tidy chignon. Her makeup was neutral, but it was obvious she wasn’t bare-faced, and she walked with the grace of someone who had seen a lot of years with a crown on her head. While she might not wear a literal crown, she was witchblood nobility.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Astra said. “I’d like to present my niece, Maisy Tripwater.”

Nightshade regarded me quietly for a moment, then extended her hand. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Maisy. Your aunt’s told me a lot about you. All good, of course,” she added with a smile.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m pleased to meet you, too.” I wasn’t at all sure how to address her. I’d never met a high priestess before, except in the academy, and during my school years, we addressed our teachers with the term “professor.”

“You can call me Nightshade,” she said, picking up on my uncertainty. “Your aunt tells me that you’re interested in joining the Dark Moon Society?”

I nodded. “Yes, I am. And my friend Crystal is also interested.”

“We do have room for several more participants. However, there are rules that you should be aware of, and once you pledge in service, you’ll be held to those rules. This isn’t like joining a regular coven. You’ll be in service to the Crown Magika, and they don’t suffer disloyalty…or stupidity. I assume you’re in good standing on the rolls?”

I nodded. “I think so. I’ve never had much to do with that side of the witchblood community.”

“Her mother was on the rolls. Her father…well, he was adopted, but the Aseer tested him when he was younger and he was definitely one-hundred percent witchblood. She couldn’t pinpoint his bloodline, but he was of magical stock.”

“Well, adoption is a good thing, and as long as he was certified witchblood by the Aseer, there’s no problem. We don’t base things on name, as much as abilities.” She glanced over at Astra. “Honesty, now. How is she on her magic?”

“Lacking a bit, but that should even out. She attended the academy when she was young, and she’s signed up for adult continuing classes.” My aunt glanced at me, smiling. “Midnight Point called her home for a reason, though we’re not sure why. But…we do need to talk to you about something else. Maisy was visited by the Wandering Eye last night, and given a message. I have the feeling that it’s not only for her, but perhaps for the Dark Moon Society.”

Nightshade let out long sigh. “Something is coming, I can feel it. That’s one reason we need the society to be at full strength. What was the message?”

I took a deep breath. “She said, The gateway will open again. Chaos is dancing, and once it finds you, there’s no escape. I have no idea what she was talking about, but it felt important.”

Nightshade sat back, staring at me. “It was a message for you, but also for the Dark Moon Society,” she said. “And it proves to me that you should become a member. Your friend too—she was there with you, wasn’t she? When the Wandering Eye came through.”

“Yes, she was.”

The high priestess continued to stare at me. Finally, she said, “The Covenant of Chaos has reemerged in Moonshadow Bay, but that’s not the only place. We—the Order of the Moon—have long felt the rumblings and warnings that they are rising to power again, and we’re going to be on the front lines, trying to push them back. A spiritual war is on the horizon, and it’s time to strengthen the ranks and prepare for what we’re facing.”

And with that, I realized that I was not only joining the ranks of a prestigious organization that went back thousands of years, but I was signing up to help protect the populace from magical attack, to be a magical warrior in what could very well be a deadly assault.