Chapter 1

 

     “No!” she wailed, heartbroken.  “Brian…please!”  She watched Brian’s back as he walked away from her.  “Please…” she tried again.  But all she could do was stare with tears forming in her eyes as he got into his car.  With one final nasty look back, he drove away.

     The tears started to fall as she turned and headed for the stairs that would lead her back up to her apartment.  By the time she was halfway up, she was sobbing pitifully.  She continued to sob for a very long time, until a buzzing from the alarm on her phone grabbed her attention.  Like it or not, she dried her eyes and headed for her bedroom to get dressed for work.

     Half an hour later, she stood staring at her reflection in the mirror as she finished dressing.  Her reflection brought a smile to her lips for the first time since Brian had walked away from her.  She wore almost no makeup.  Her light brown hair had been pulled back behind her head in a tight knot.  But it was what she was wearing that she stared at so intently.  She was dressed to perfection.  The uniform she wore meant everything to her, and she wore it with pride.  Today marked her second week on the job as a policewoman with the Atlanta police department.  Two weeks ago, she had still been in the academy, working as hard as she could to graduate near the top of her class.  And now, she was here, ready to start her second week on the job.

     As she drove toward the police station for the afternoon shift, it wasn’t her job that dominated her thoughts, her mind wouldn’t stop thinking about Brian.  All he had asked for was something simple.  An explanation.  The truth.  But try as she might, she had discovered that telling him the truth had been somehow impossible.  Not mentally impossible.  Physically!  She couldn’t do it no matter how hard she tried.  All because of a spell someone had stuck on her that fateful day…like it or not.

     All Brian had wanted was details.  Details about where she was going.  Who was she seeing.  And why she had to go there.  He had even accused her of having an affair with someone else.  But no matter what explanation she managed to give him, he never once believed a word of it.  She had told him time and time again that she was just going to visit some girlfriends, some women she knew.  But when he asked her why she had to keep meeting with them, and why she refused to let him come along or even know who any of them were, he never once liked any of the semi-answers she had made up because of her inability to tell him the truth.

     And now he was gone.  She had thought, she had really hoped, that he had been the one!  The one true love of her life.  Now it seemed, he wasn’t.  All because of something she had never asked for.  Never wanted.  And still didn’t want.  Something useless!  Something irritating.  Something that evoked nothing but horror and mistrust in everyone, which was the reason that spell had been stuck on her in the first place.  All so that she couldn’t tell anyone that she…Carrie Wells…was a witch.

     Why?  Had fate somehow decided that her life wasn’t hard enough?  Had fate somehow decided to play a cruel joke on her for no reason at all?  And like it or not, now it seemed that she was stuck with it…for life.  And most likely, so would her daughters…if she ever had any.  And that was another thing.  According to what she had been told, most witches only had daughters.  Male witches, or warlocks, were a very rare thing.  Actually, she wouldn’t mind having a daughter or two.  But first she had to have a husband.  And now her best prospect for that was gone.  Vamoosed!  Run off!  All because she couldn’t tell him the truth.  The truth that magic was real, and so were witches.  And she was a witch.

     Her mind briefly remembered the circumstances of gaining her current…position – witch!  She and her mother had been offered a chance to cavort around jolly old England for a few days last June, all expenses paid!  The only kicker was that they had to attend the morning sunrise gathering at Stonehenge on the morning of the summer equinox.  Both her and her mother had been convinced it was nothing but another timeshare pitch.  Most of the other people who were there were convinced of the same thing.  Except it hadn’t been any kind of timeshare or land selling pitch at all.  It had been some kind of conversion ceremony.  A ceremony where a few thousand people from all over the world who had only a very minor talent in their bodies to do magic…to be witches…had been somehow mass converted into full blown witches.  She hadn’t asked for that.  Her mother hadn’t asked for that.  None of those people had asked for it, but now, here she was, going to coven meetings where she and her mother were learning to do…witchcraft.

     Her mother absolutely loved it.  She couldn’t seem to get enough of it.  But that was her mother.  As far as Carrie could see, it was the most useless thing on the planet.  Not to mention, now she had lost her boyfriend because of it.  As far as she was concerned, magic was worse than useless!  Consequently, when she went to those meetings, she never paid that much attention.  And practice?  She had better things to do with her time.  Especially since she had spent the last few months in the police academy, doing everything possible so she could get a good job when she graduated.

     Oh, she was sort of at the point now where she could sort out and separate all the different elements that magic was made from.  Six she had been told, although as far as she could tell, there were really only five.  But as for learning any actual “tricks,” forget it!  All her time lately had been spent getting herself through the police academy.  She didn’t have time for learning spells that could do useless things.  So far, she had come the grand total way of learning to dump her raw power around the room, separate it into five different elements, and only lately could she use that power to get to read the simple witch primer they had given her.  Which without that magic going into it, was nothing but a blank book!  Although she had to admit, that was a pretty neat trick in itself.

     She had seen those first few spells in the book though.  Useless!  Why should she bother learning any of them.  Lesson one, make a breeze.  Why bother learning to make a small breeze blow on a hot summer day when every building in the southern United States had plenty of air-conditioning.  Lesson two was learning how to put out a candle flame with magic, although she could do that a lot easier by just blowing the darn thing out.  And of course, once you could extinguish the candle flame, lesson three was all about learning to light the candle with magic.  Stupid!  Why not teach that one first?  But it was just another useless spell in an entire book of useless spells. 

     She guessed that lighting a candle with magic might be useful if your electricity went out and you couldn’t find any matches, and that is, if you even had any candles around to provide light.  Most people she knew, herself included, had a number of flashlights stashed around the house just for that kind of emergency.  She never bothered to look past lesson four, which was all about making ice.  Her refrigerator made tons of it, and it took no effort on her part at all.

     Bottom line, as far as she was concerned, witchcraft was useless!  Except it seemed for chasing away boyfriends that you had high hopes would one day be your husband.

     There had been one other thing that had happened at that witch conversion in England a few months ago.  Something that she was happy about, and it was something that now she couldn’t seem to get enough of.  The primary event at that gathering had been the feeling of power that had washed over her and everyone else.  Power that did nothing but surround them and soak into them.  Intense, beautiful, wondrous, and dare she say it, loving…power!  It had been simply unforgettable.  And it seemed that every time the coven met, the highlight of each meeting was something similar.  Something they called a power sharing, of which now Carrie herself was able to take part.  It was a practice where every witch in the room poured their raw power out and around everyone else.  It was simply wonderous each time.  It was like a drug she couldn’t get enough of.

     To hell with all the tricks and spells and all the rest of it.  The one and only good thing she wanted out of witchcraft, was the power sharing.  It was so good, that she practiced it often, just dumping the raw power in her body out and all around her to fill the room.  Each time she did it, brought up memories of the past power sharings she had been part of.  It also evoked memories of that first massive one in England, where evidently the only one pouring power around them was someone named Cornelia.  A witch…or goddess.  She wasn’t sure about that, but most of the other witches seemed to consider her a goddess who used to be a plain but very powerful witch.  Although some of the stories she had heard had that fact muddled a bit too.  Some spoke of her as a witch with no magic ability at all.  It was all totally confusing to Carrie. 

     No, they could all have their spells and tricks.  The one and only thing she was interested in through all of it, was the power sharing.  Glorious.  Wonderful.  Raw power.

     “Hey Rookie!” her partner and training officer, Gabriel Granger called as she walked into the station.  “Ready for another one?”

     Carrie smiled broadly at the six-foot, light chocolate face that seemed to be set in a perpetual smile.  “All set,” she replied.  Fifteen minutes later, they had been briefed for their afternoon tour of duty and they headed together out to their squad car.

     “You drive,” Gabe said as they approached the car.

     Carrie wasn’t particularly happy about that.  She was still nervous driving the thing.  She was nervous about writing traffic tickets too.  And she didn’t even want to think about the three domestic disturbance calls they had handled last week.  Frightening!  But she cleanly caught the keys when Gabe threw them at her, and she climbed into the driver’s seat.  A minute later, they hit the streets, heading for downtown Atlanta.

Three parking tickets, two speeding tickets, and one traffic accident later, they got a call over the radio that was unlike any she had heard so far.

     “Check the scene at the ally off Fairlie Street, just south of Luckie Street.  Possible homicide.  Use caution.”

     From the passenger seat, Gabe looked over at Carrie.  “Shit!” he exclaimed softly.  “So much for another nice easy night.”  He answered the dispatcher’s call then turned to her.  “Time to grow up.  You ready?”

     Carrie, her eyes wide, didn’t answer.

     In the Atlanta downtown area, finding the streets wasn’t difficult, especially since she and Gabe drove around them through most of their shift.  Finding the scene of the crime wasn’t difficult either.  The body lying on the sidewalk was a big tipoff.  They left the lights flashing on the cruiser and parked so it blocked any traffic coming up behind them.  Carrie noted very few people around, but the area wasn’t exactly the best place for people to be out walking.  The one person that caught her attention the most, was the man sitting up against the brick building, only a few feet away from the body.

     “Grab your gun!” Gabe told her as his eyes quickly took in the crime scene.  “Before you get out of the car.  And watch everything.  Let’s take the perp first.  We’ll come at him from two directions.”

     Carrie wasn’t sure if she was excited or afraid because she was suddenly in a situation where she needed to pull her gun, but she pulled it and carefully got out of the car.  While Gabe approached the man sitting against the building from the right, she went wide and approached him from the left.  She glanced at the body.  The bloody knife in his chest did a lot to suggest he was dead, but she couldn’t be sure.  They had to make sure the perpetrator was secure before checking further.

     Gabe looked at the sitting man carefully.  He looked…drugged.  His eyes appeared glassy and unfocused.  A quick look around didn’t show any weapons that he could see.  But what concerned him the most was all the blood.  The man’s hands were covered in it, and there was blood streaked all down the front of his clothes.

     Knowing that Carrie still had her gun out, Gabe put his gun back in its holster.  “Sir!” he said firmly.  “Are you injured?”  He got no answer except for a slight turn of the man’s head to look away from the body and towards him.  “I said, are you injured.  Are you alright?”  No reply.

“Sir,” Gabe tried again.  “Do you have a weapon on you?”  But instead of answering, the man looked back at the dead body…if it was dead.

“Carrie,” Gabe said.  “Watch him.”

     While Carrie held her gun on the man, Gabe went over and checked the body.  No pulse, not that he expected to find one.  No pulse, and almost no blood.  Most of the blood appeared to be all over the perpetrator…if he was the perpetrator.  But for now, they had no recourse but to think of him that way.  Gabe grabbed his radio and called in the homicide.

     Carrie kept her gun on the sitting man, even though he didn’t appear to be much of a  threat.  All he did was to sit there looking at the dead man in front of him.  But when he turned his head to look at her, it surprised her.  She tightened her grip on her gun in response.  But what startled her the most, was when he spoke.

     “Was it me?” he asked.

     “What do you mean, was it you?” Carrie asked.

     “Was it me?” he asked again.  “Did I kill him?”

     That was the last thing Carrie expected him to say.  “Uh…I can’t say,” she replied.  “Not my job.”  She hoped that answer would suffice.

     It was then that something else happened.  Something that only Carrie could feel and not Gabe.  Something that nearly made her drop the gun in her hand.  Power!  Magic power flowing off the man in front of her.  The kind of power the witches used in their power sharing.  The kind of raw power she herself had.  The realization almost boggled her mind.  She was staring at another witch.  Warlock, she corrected herself.  For some ridiculous unknown reason, male witches were referred to as warlocks.  One other thing came to mind about him too.  Warlocks were rare!

     Tentatively, she let her own raw power flow out and directed it toward the man.  She saw his head jerk around and stare at her intently.  Two witches…or rather a witch and a warlock.  Essentially the same thing.  Carrie ended her power flow but kept her gun trained on him.  He was staring at her now and couldn’t seem to look away.  She felt his power flow end as well.  She noticed his eyes looked a lot more focused than they had a moment ago.

     “Crime scene guys will be here soon,” Gabe said as he moved closer again.  He turned his attention to the perpetrator.  “Sir, I’m going to have to cuff you.  Lay down on your stomach.”  Step by step, he told the man what to do.  In moments he had the man sitting again, only now with his hands cuffed behind his back.  Gabe looked up at Carrie to see her putting her gun away.

     “Sir,” Gabe said to the man.  “What’s your name?”

     But again, the man only answered with, “Was it me?”

     “Was what you?” Gabe replied.

     “Did I do it?  Did I kill him?”

     “He’s dead,” Gabe told him.  “And you’re the one covered in blood.”

     “But was it me?” the man asked again.

     “What’s your name?” Gabe tried one more time.

     “Mm…”  The man seemed to sit and stare for a moment, his brows wrinkled in concentration as if he couldn’t remember.  “Um…”  He finally turned his head and looked back at Gabe, his eyes showing excitement.  “Michael!  Got it.  I couldn’t remember for a minute there.  Sorry, my head is spinning all over the place.”

     “Your head is spinning?”

     “Dizzy,” he said.

     “How much did you have to drink tonight?” Gabe asked him.

     “Um…”  Michael shook his head.  “I don’t have a clue.  I don’t remember.”

     “Do you have a clue what your last name is?”

     Again, the man thought about it, but only for a moment.  “Huxley.  Mike Huxley.”

     “Well, Mike Huxley, just sit tight,” Gabe told him.  “Someone will be here soon to deal with you.”

     Mike Huxley turned away from the male policeman to look back at the woman.  The witch.  His eyes tried to read the name on her nametag.  “Officer…Wells?” he asked.

     “That’s me,” Carrie replied.

     “Do you have a first name?” Michael asked.

     “Her first name is Officer!” Gabe told him quickly and firmly.  “That’s all you need to know about her.”

     But even in the condition he was in, Michael Huxley knew he’d have to know much more about her than that.