The Devil's Eye Read online

  We drift into random conversations for the better part of the next hour or so. In between Colleen talking about how her crafty jewelry home business is taking off, Tamika fumes about a pastor, Emmett Waters, with whom she’s been sparring on and off for the past few months, both online and in the bookstore where she works. Turned out, a Christian customer noticed her pentacle necklace, tried to get her fired for it, failed, and riled up her entire congregation. Enter Emmett Waters. Fortunately, it’s not a big church, and Tamika’s a tough cookie.

  I really don’t get why some groups can’t just believe what they believe without having to take it personally that others don’t share their beliefs. I sigh again.

  Elise keeps quiet, listening intently while sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Caius chats mostly with his mother, from what little I can overhear, about his work with musicians, and an off-handed comment from Abigail makes me think I might wind up being dragged to England in a few months for a cousin’s wedding or something of that nature.

  Laura Black, one of the housekeepers, brings in a tray of snacks: chips, pretzels, dip, cheese, and sliced veggies. She’s from the local Nisqually tribe, and is a couple years older than Elise, also with long hair that she keeps in a braid. Abigail pulls her into the conversation comfortably, and the young woman lingers for a while chatting and munching.

  Eventually, we all migrate to the kitchen. Caius starts on making a pie; Colleen and I have ham detail; Abigail’s brewing up her mashed potatoes; Tamika and Elise prepare string beans, carrots, and pearl onions. I’m the kitchen witch of the coven, so I have a tendency to flit around and nose into what everyone else is doing.

  “Where’s the garlic press?” asks Elise.

  Abigail spins to face the cabinets and shelves, an expression of deep thought on her face.

  I zip across the room to one of the fourteen drawers, pull it open, and grab the garlic press out from under a mountain of random gadgets. “Here.”

  “Thanks!” chirps Elise.

  Laughing, Abigail returns to her potatoes.

  One of these days, I need to let my bestie Isabelle see me in a strange kitchen, intuitively knowing where stuff is. If that doesn’t get my skeptical friend to believe magic is real, I don’t know what would. If I know Izzie, though, she’s probably expecting magic to be like what she sees in those damn video games… so finding a garlic press wouldn’t be all that earth-shattering to her. Not when she’s expecting lightning bolts or glowing green clouds.

  Oh, well.

  “What goes in this again?” asks Colleen.

  Since she’s holding a box of brown sugar, I assume she’s talking about the glaze. “Brown sugar, pinch of cinnamon, pinch of ground ginger, teaspoon of nutmeg, half a teaspoon of ground allspice, onion powder, mustard powder, black pepper. Pinch of clove powder and a pinch of cayenne powder.”

  “Uhh, right.” She stares at me. “Again, slower?”

  I smile to myself, arranging garlic and onions around the baking tray where the ham will cook while repeating the list. She’s got the glaze about ready by the time I’ve finished slicing a crosshatch pattern over the top of the meat, and gets started painting the glaze on. My task done, I head over to help Abigail mash after checking that the main oven is preheating properly.

  Caius sets off a fit of oohs by making a French silk pie as well as the obligatory apple.

  Early afternoon becomes early evening, filled with the warmth of a kitchen and friendship. Colleen and Tamika get into a minor debate about Gardnerian practices, specifically if the whole sky-clad ritual deal is an option or is ‘truer’ Wicca.

  Once they start giggling at the idea of group nudity, Abigail glides over. “Nervous laughter is common the first few times. The symbolism is meant as an expression of truth beyond any set of body ideals, fashion ideals, or social customs as well as the divinity of nature and life.”

  Caius raises an eyebrow. “We’re planning to go full digambara?” he asks, referring to the monks who literally give up any material possessions―including clothing.

  “It would be a deviation from our custom, but if everyone’s of the same mind,” says Abigail, glancing around, “we could try it. It would make for an interesting experiment to observe what, if any, effect it has on our magical workings.”

  Elise shrugs. Colleen goes red in the face. I’m pretty sure my expression remains neutral. My initial reaction is ‘please let’s not,’ but if everyone else is on board, I’ll deal. Tamika fidgets, staring at the ground. I think we have the same opinion, only she seems a little more on the ‘let’s not’ side.

  “Isn’t it a little weird?” asks Tamika, glancing back and forth between Caius and Abigail.

  “Only if you are caught up in the preconceptions of the society around us that nudity cannot exist without sexuality.” Abigail smiles. “The two concepts are not one in the same. I think it warrants more discussion, but no action yet.”

  Tamika relaxes visibly. I relax not so visibly―until my hair falls over my face.

  ***

  A little after 10:00 p.m., Abigail leads us out a back door and across the grassy field behind her house. Nestled in a round copse of trees about a hundred yards from the building, our coven’s ritual circle glints in the gentle light of the new moon. The eight-foot stone disc bears a carved pentacle around a modest altar.

  We take our positions at the star points, with Abigail offset to the north, and close our eyes, meditating on our desire to cleanse the area in preparation for our ritual. The chirping of crickets and the soft rustle of wind in the trees soothes my mind. Cool grass blades tickle my ankles, and an invigorating sense of earthen energy climbs up my legs. After a few minutes of calm, we set about clearing the area and dusting the circle of windblown leaves, seed pods, and grass bits.

  I place the sachets, smudge stick, and some juniper berry incense I made for the air element on the altar. I also brought hyssop incense for Elise since I know she’s going to want to cast more wards against whatever darkness she thinks is coming after her. The St. John’s wort incense is for me, since I’ll be invoking a protection spell on myself and the other detectives in my unit―even Linda.

  With the area physically cleansed, Abigail takes the moon candle, white, unscented, and decorated with silver ribbons, from her satchel and places it on the altar, leaving it wrapped in a black cloth. She lights a small, black candle next, then holds the smudge stick in the flame until it catches, rotating it and nursing the burn until a pleasant, aromatic smoke issues forth from the leaves. For the ritual cleansing of the circle on the spiritual plane, she walks around the edge, wafting smoke side to side. Tiny sage embers fly about, pinpricks of bright orange against the blue-black world.

  “Let the sacred smoke take the unwanted energy, the dark thoughts, the dark forces, and carry them back to the Source,” says Abigail.

  “Let them be transformed,” I chant, along with the others. “Let the Goddess reshape that which is dark and bring new light.”

  Abigail repeats the chant two more times, and we reply in kind.

  Once the smudging is complete, she approaches the altar and dabs the stick out in a bowl of sand, setting it astride the vessel until it cools. We approach the circle, me at the southeast (Fire) point. Colleen stands to my left at the Earth point, Elise at the west (Air) point, Tamika to my right at the east (Water) point, and Caius at the north (Spirit) point.

  Abigail hands us each an item respective to our element, a short length of rope to Caius, representing the bond between the spirit and mortal world, the juniper berry incense to Elise for Air, a bowl of salt to Colleen for Earth, a candle to me for Fire, and a bowl of water to Tamika.

  Once we all have our totems, we place them in rounded hollows in the stone pentacle at each star point. Abigail raises her athame, a not-terribly-sharp sword, holds it aloft for a few seconds, then lowers it to rest against her shoulder, the point still vertical.

  “We invoke a circle this Esbat to celebrate the new moon,” sa
ys Abigail. “We bridge the worlds together. We call the spirit energy to well up from the earth, feeding upon the fire, powered by the air, and guided by water.”

  She walks in a clockwise circle around the outer edge of the stone disk, dribbling salt from a pouch around her waist. When she passes me, I light the candle at my feet. She strides around the circle three times. When she reaches Caius at the north point for the third time, she turns inward and pads over to stand at the altar facing him.

  Abigail waves the sword around once, the point aimed at the edge of the stone disc. “I create a circle of sacred space to protect us from outside energy, to contain our energy, and honor the Goddess.” She turns to her son. “Caius Craven, I invite you into our circle.”

  He bows his head and steps up onto the stone disc. “I enter with perfect love and perfect trust.”

  Abigail rotates to face the east point. “Tamika Bowen, I invite you into our circle.”

  She dips her fingers in the water bowl and flicks it on herself before saying, “I enter with perfect love and perfect trust,” and stepping into the circle.

  Abigail faces me. “Madeline Wimsey, I invite you into our circle.”

  Smiling, I crouch to caress the candle flame for a second before standing. “I enter with perfect love and perfect trust.” And I do. I would trust any of my coven brethren with my life, as much as with anyone on the force. When I step up onto the platform, Abigail faces the southwest point.

  “Colleen Connor, I invite you into our circle.”

  She traces an inverted triangle with a small line across the downward-facing point, the symbol for Earth, in the salt bowl before standing. “I enter with perfect love and perfect trust.” With that, she steps up into the circle.

  “Elise Taylor,” says Abigail. “I invite you into our circle.”

  She lights the incense at her feet and stands. Her whispery voice repeats, “I enter with perfect love and perfect trust.” As she steps up, she gives us each a long stare of gratitude and pleading. We are her family now; if something dark did happen to her, I suspect it destroyed whatever family she’d been born to.

  “I conjure this circle of power,” says Abigail with a commanding voice. “Be it a meeting place, a place of love, joy, and truth, a place of positive energy. Our circle is a shield against the darkness, against evil, a boundary betwixt the world of mortals and the realms of the mighty ones. I raise this circle, so mote it be.”

  “So mote it be,” I chant, along with the others.

  Abigail gazes up at the new moon for a moment of reverent silence before removing the cloth and raising the moon candle aloft in both hands and calling out.

  “We welcome the moon!

  “We invite Selene into our circle.

  “A cycle closed, another begun.

  “With the moon, have we all moved forward.”

  I focus on drawing energy up from the earth at my feet, and projecting it into the circle, as do the others.

  Abigail lowers the moon candle to touch its silver wick to the flame dancing upon the little black candle. Once lighted, she raises the large white candle skyward again.

  “We celebrate the new month.

  “We are thankful She has returned.

  “To watch over us.

  “Constant, yet ever changing.”

  Abigail takes a silver hand mirror from the altar. She pivots to face the eastern horizon, where the sun will rise in the morning, and uses the mirror to continue to gaze at the new moon behind her.

  “We ask for Her light and protection.

  “She is with us at every moment.

  “Watching and guiding,

  “We are thankful.”

  After a moment of introspective silence, she sets the mirror on the altar once more and faces north.

  “This is a time of new beginnings,” says Abigail. “We contemplate our lives, our goals, our friends, and our foes. Think now, upon these things.”

  And I do. I’m grateful for finding the killer so quickly, though I’d rather Mr. Lewis hadn’t been murdered at all. I’m grateful for Caius, and speaking of new beginnings, I spend a while trying to imagine what sort of child we might bring into this world.

  Abigail warms a vessel of angelica root oil in the moon candle’s flame, and walks the circle again, anointing each of us while saying, “May the blessings of the Moon fall upon you.”

  “Thank you, sister,” I say after she touches my forehead. “Blessed be.”

  Once everyone has received the blessings of the Moon, she returns to the altar. “While our circle is strong, invoke any magic you need.”

  I collect my St. John’s wort incense from the altar and return to my star point. There, I light the incense with the Fire candle, and bask in the aromatic fragrance while focusing on my desire for protection against physical harm, and that this protection extends to Rick, Ed, Linda, Andrew, and Janet Greer, our captain. I picture suits of armor forming around us, transparent and glittering with the light of Selene, drawing upon the power of the new moon to shield us from harm. I say,

  “I craft my spell upon the fire.

  “Call the power; weave it higher.

  “Selene, Goddess of the Moon

  “Shield us from dark and gloom.

  “Let those who seek to hurt or maim

  “Know the power of your name.”

  My thoughts return to the gleaming suit of armor, and my plea for the Moon Goddess to deflect harm away from us. In the periphery of my awareness, Abigail invokes a protection spell upon us all, as well as the grounds around the house. Caius invokes Morrigan, asking her to keep watch over me. My heart fills with warmth at hearing him pour so much of his energy into wanting me safe. Elise channels a protective ward around herself against dark energy and magic. Colleen splits her invocation between defense against those who would do her harm, and trying to keep her car limping along by sheer force of enchantment.

  Tamika asks Hecate to surround that hostile pastor with a karmic blowback. She’s slinging potentially dangerous magic, but at least she isn’t sending out actively negative forces. Redirecting his own negative energy back on him isn’t quite as bad, but if she’s angry, it leaves things open for quite a bit to go awry.

  Abigail shoots her a ‘be careful’ look.

  Once we’ve all finished our personal spells, Abigail raises the moon candle high and thanks Goddess Selene for joining our circle. We each take our turns thanking our respective elements for lending their power to our ritual on this Esbat.

  “Our spells are cast,” says Abigail. “Our intentions true. Goddess and God, I call to you.” She picks up the athame again, pointing it at the north end of the stone pentacle. “This circle, I now close.”

  A sense of her dismantling the energy around us comes on, a feeling of power rushing up from the ground, through the sword, and into her center. She rotates in place counterclockwise three times. When she stops, we all take a step back off the stone. Cool, moist earth touches my soles and a wonderful chilly breeze lifts my hair for a few seconds. The scent of trees and woodlands fills my senses, chasing away all worries. Tonight, I shall dream of a time before, when we could have lived our whole lives among nature, without the taint of industrialization.

  My meditation over, I crouch and extinguish the Fire candle. Tamika pours her bowl of water into the grass, and Elise tamps out the Air incense.

  Our Esbat done, we migrate together into a group embrace around Abigail and bask in the love we share for each other. When the moment fades, we gather our supplies and begin the walk back to the house.

  Chapter Six

  Legal Questions

  We convene again in the large sitting room, this time with tea and cakes. Though, I skip the cakes. Caius’ pie was plenty of empty calories for this girl in one day. With the Esbat ritual complete, and the tingle of magic in the air, we relax for a while and chat like any other family gathering for a holiday event.

  Elise seems to have gotten a charge from the circle, a
s she’s laughing and participating in the conversation like a normal person. It’s a happy change from her usual ‘haunting phantom’ act. She starts talking about some show called Supernatural. I haven’t seen it, but I kinda fake my way along in the conversation. Evidently, the two lead guys are serious eye candy. Hmm. Maybe I’ll have to check it out, but it sounds like they kinda go off the deep end with the paranormal stuff. Heh. Guess they kinda have to if they titled the show Supernatural, right?

  Except for Abigail and Elise, the rest of us all need to wake up for work tomorrow, so the gathering shows signs of winding down about a quarter to midnight. Well, technically, Caius can wake up whenever he wants to… he’s his own boss. Still, 6 a.m. comes really fast when my face doesn’t hit the pillow until midnight. Per our unspoken agreement, he’ll be driving home so I can catnap on the ride.

  I get up and cross the room to where Abigail’s sitting.

  “About that time?” She smiles at me, wrinkles around her eyes deepening.

  “Yeah.” I stoop and hug her like my second mother. “I’m going to be a zombie as it is. Thank you for hosting us again. Was a wonderful Esbat. I can still feel the charge in the air.”

  She pats my shoulder before I stand straight again. “Lovely to see you again, dear.”

  We make the rounds hugging or shaking hands, and soon everyone disperses to collect their shoes, purses, and containers of leftover food.

  Tamika approaches me while I’m crouched to put on my sandals. “Maddy?”

  “Hey?” I grin up at her. “What’s up?”

  She folds her arms, glances off to the side, and fidgets―clearly pissed off. “Can you do anything about that damn pastor? Get him off my ass?”

  “What’s he doing?” I secure the second strap and stand before swiping my hair off my face.

  “Being an asshole.” She waves her hand about at random, muttering. “He’s got some people protesting in front of the store. They followed me home once, and now, they’re leaving pamphlets and putting up ‘sin lives here’ signs.”