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Sean warmed up, leaning forward. “See, there are specific parts of the day that relate to some spells, and you have to do the work within that time period or you mess it up. I was supposed to do an early morning meditation on the ancestors, and the main spell component is graveyard dirt. That’s when I realized we were out of it. We live near the cemetery, so I thought I’d just run over there and grab a handful.”
“You know that dirt wouldn’t be consecrated and cleansed, Sean.” Lindsey frowned at him.
“I know, but what else was I gonna do? You’d think I was shirking if I didn’t do my best to gather what I needed. And you always know when we’re fudging our answers about homework.” Sean scowled, staring at the table.
“Yes, but you can always use a substitute. Remember, I told you that mixing valerian, mandrake, belladonna, and garden soil will work in a pinch.” She tapped the table with her fingernails. “Just remember that next time, okay?”
Sean ducked his head. “Sorry, Ms. C.”
Chase cleared his throat. “If we could leave the teaching till later?”
Lindsey blushed. “Oh, geez, I’m sorry!”
With a chuckle, Chase waved off her apology. “Not a problem. Okay, Sean, how about you continue? You decided to go over to the cemetery to grab a handful of graveyard dirt?”
Sean nodded. “Yeah. I threw on my jacket and ran over there. There wasn’t anybody there, that I could tell at first, so I headed in to find an old grave—I didn’t want to disturb anybody who’d recently been buried, and the older the graveyard dirt, the better.”
“Really? That’s interesting.”
As I watched them talk, it occurred to me that Chase was going to make a great father. He had a way with kids that I didn’t really understand, but could appreciate. Sharah’s baby was going to be well loved, at least over here Earthside. Being half-breed and a member of the royal family would bring its own set of problems back in Otherworld.
Sean leaned forward, cradling his Coke between his hands. “Yeah, the age of the dirt matters. You wouldn’t think so, but it does. New graves? Too chaotic. Old graveyard dirt is more powerful and focused. Anyway, I was wandering through the cemetery and I heard some noises. The sidewalk curved next to a really old cedar tree, and I heard some yelling—it was coming from around the tree. I sneaked up behind the cedar. I didn’t know what was going on, and it seemed smart to stay out of sight until I knew.”
“Good thinking.” I gave him a firm nod.
He looked at me and blushed. His eyes lingered over my breasts, and then he blushed again and looked away quickly. Yep. Hormones.
“Thanks. Well, I peeked around the tree trunk, and I saw…” Here, Sean paled again, the ease fading out of his expression. Frightened Rabbit was back.
“Go on, tell Detective Johnson what you told me.” Tracy reached out and put her hand on Sean’s arm. He didn’t shake her off this time.
“I saw something…bodies…they looked like they were from that old movie, Night of the Living Dead. There were several of them. And they had hold of this cop—I didn’t see how they caught him, but they were holding him down and they were…” His voice cracked, and tears formed in his eyes. He dashed them away angrily and rested his fists on the table.
“What were they doing, Sean? It’s okay to tell us.” I leaned across the table and put my hand over his.
“They were tearing him apart. Ripping into him like he was a piece of meat. He was still alive and they tore out his guts! I could hear him screaming.”
Chase pressed his lips together and let out a slow sigh. “Breathe, Sean. Take a slow, deep breath.”
Sean sniffled and caught his breath. I wished Nerissa was around. This boy was going to need some counseling for sure. But she was out at the scene of the apartment fire. Glancing around, I caught sight of a box of tissues and silently carried it over to Sean, stopping to gently pat him on the shoulder.
After a moment, Sean cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “I…I saw someone else there. Two guys, actually.”
“Who? Can you describe them?” Chase was instantly alert again. “Were they being attacked, too?”
With a shake of his head, Sean turned a haunted look at his mother and Lindsey. “We know one of them, and the other…I think we saw him at that psychic fair we were at before the weird stuff started happening to the coven. I couldn’t believe they both just stood there watching. They didn’t do anything to try to help the officer.” Then, pausing, he hung his head. “But I didn’t try to help, either. I guess I’m just as bad.”
“Sean, there wasn’t anything you could have done. Please, know that. These creatures are terribly powerful and they would have killed you, too. Now, tell us who you saw and what they were doing.” I caught his gaze, unmasking my Fae glamour just enough to give my words a boost. Sean was young and impressionable.
He wiped his eyes again, then blew his nose, all the while staring at me. After a few seconds, he let out another breath. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. The guy we know—his name is Jake. Jake Evans. He’s a member of our Temple.”
“Jake?” Lindsey sounded shocked. “Jake Evans was there?” She turned to us. “Jake is—was—a member of our Temple. He belonged to our pagan study group, off which our coven and the training coven hived. Temple is for people who don’t want to actively work magic, but want to get together to study our beliefs in a less hands-on way, or for those who just don’t have the discipline or calling to attend Circle. They also celebrate the Sabbats—the high holidays—with us. But Jake left Temple last month.”
Jake. The name rang a bell. Where had I heard that recently? And then I snapped my fingers. “Does he frequent Mystic Charms?”
Lindsey nodded. “He makes a nuisance of himself there. Drives Beth nuts.”
“I think we saw him this morning.” I turned to Delilah. “Remember the guy we saw this morning at the shop? The one who seemed pissed he couldn’t find what he wanted?” Confused, I turned back to Lindsey. “I didn’t sense a lot of power coming from him.”
