A Witch's Fate: Witches of Lane County Read online

  Table of Contents

  A Witch’s Fate

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Other Works Available

  About the Author

  Haunting Me

  More from Jody A. Kessler

  On the Back Cover

  Table of Contents

  A Witch’s Fate

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Other Works Available

  About the Author

  Haunting Me

  More from Jody A. Kessler

  On the Back Cover

  A Witch’s Fate

  Witches of Lane County

  Jody A. Kessler

  Copyright

  © 2017 by Jody A. Kessler

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator.”

  Please visit:

  www.JodyAKessler.com

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  ASIN: B072NJ15V7

  ISBN: 978-1547032655

  Edited by

  M. Robitille

  Cover Art & Design by

  Laura Moyer

  Ebooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To John and my family.

  You inspire me every day.

  Chapter One

  “IN THE END, Tori, the Magic will carry me to the afterlife and my loved ones will be waiting for me. I’ll be happier than I’ve ever been.”

  “You may be losing your mobility, but I didn’t know you were losing your mind. Now stop being so morose. You’re nowhere near any end if I have a say in this.” Tears threatened to make an appearance. Tori blinked them into repression. Her client, Delana Smootz, was elderly and handicapped. With continued treatment for her physical complaints, Tori envisioned decades still to come for her. As promised, Tori would remain Delana’s personal caregiver in Magic and the craft as long as she wanted her to stick around.

  “Senile and morbid! Only my dearest friends would see this side of me and not be so shocked they would immediately call a psychotherapist.” The elderly woman squeezed Tori’s hand. “Thank you for not judging me.”

  “Judge you? You’re one of the most inspirational people on this planet. Yes, I’m definitely judging you up, down, and sideways—and I’m aspiring to be half the woman you are.”

  “You’re already there, Miss Tori. Only ever aspire to be your true and best self.”

  Tori smiled into her friend’s violet eyes and a soft laugh escaped passed her lips. She let the somber mood pass for now. Delana’s diminishing health and ever-increasing age would not ruin the moment. Tori’s main goals for their weekly get together were easing Delana’s pain and controlling the crippling arthritis. “I sometimes wonder about my mental health. Possibly… someday… my life will be balanced. Until then, I’m hanging on to some thin thread of hope and doing the best I can. There’s still hope for you, though. Don’t fall down my rabbit hole of wild and crazy.”

  “Oh, honey, I’ve been in and out of the rabbit hole for over seventy years. It’s a wonder I haven’t been crowned queen. Now, grab the potion, will you please?”

  She released Delana’s frail hand and retrieved the plum potion from the buffet table. The shimmering crystal carafe sat inside a circle of semi-precious stones. Candlelight cast flickering hues of amber and gold light across the table and around the elaborate parlor room. The magical power grid was laid out with great care in a complex array, and it hummed with energy. The concentration and magic involved in setting up tonight’s session had taken their toll on her. She wanted to yawn but held it in. There was much left to do before she called it a night. Tori could only imagine how Delana must feel. The woman’s stamina never ceased to amaze her.

  “I think you just missed your coronation day, Delana. Too busy saving the children of the world.” She passed the crystal bottle with the fuchsia colored potion to her client. “We did a bang up job on this potion and the other elements needed for tonight. Look at your altar. It’s about to take flight. You’re an amazing witch.”

  “I learned everything about the craft from you, dear.” Delana’s eyes crinkled with appreciation as she returned Tori’s smile. “And, the children,” she reminisced. “I’ve done what I can. Thirty-four different agencies working together to find homes for babies and orphans around the world. My greatest accomplishment is knowing that even after they grow up, they will always have a home and job at the North Star International Resort.” She cradled the carafe against her body. Her gnarled, arthritic fingers were no longer able to wrap around the bottle. “Have I ever told you about it?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “North Star is my five-star resort run and operated by all the children my foundation has raised or helped in some way. Anyone who has been a part of North Star can go live and work at the resort. It’s one more way to take care of the world’s children at any age.”

  “You’ve done more to make this planet a better place than anyone I’ve ever met.” Tori turned back to their magical grid and contemplated the next step in casting the spell.

  “Never seemed like it was enough. Even now, I think of all the ways I could’ve done more.”

  “You, ma’am, conquered the world. And now you can focus on you. I think the adjustments we made to your potion this week will help. And, maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll see some new results… like full remission.”

  “Wouldn’t that be grand?” Delana said.

  Tori glanced over and saw Delana ease the bottle up to her lips. She could still drink and feed herself, but it was a slow, tedious process with such a crippling handicap.

  Tori approached the thrumming boundary of their circle. She bent down and slid the braided garland of flowers and medicinal herbs to the side t
o make room for Delana’s wheelchair. Rising to her feet, she spun around and faced her friend.

  “Are we ready?” she asked.

  “As I’ll ever be.” Delana pried herself out of the wheelchair with Tori’s help.

  Walking was possible, but haphazard at best and downright dangerous if Delana were to fall. They entered the circle, and Tori helped Delana onto a padded massage table. Tori adjusted pillows beneath her employer’s head and knees before resealing the circle.

  “Maybe I’ll sleep here tonight. It’s more comfortable anyway.”

  “Nice try,” Tori said as the enchantment of the sacred circle encapsulated them.

  “I could lie here forever.” Delana sighed her contentment.

  “But you won’t, and you know every reason why,” Tori said. Precise magic required precise timing, correct phrasing, honoring the governing elements, and talent. Letting Delana lie in the circle because the massage table was more comfortable than a bed was not happening. Not on Tori’s watch. After the spell was cast, the magic had to be disassembled and the room cleansed. Imagine if some unsuspecting stranger walked in and was cursed, or turned into a toad. Okay, probably not a toad, especially with a healing spell. But their hormones might go into a frenzy of epic proportions. They could throw themselves on the first sexually appealing person that crossed their path. Wow, maybe she should leave it open after all. Weston, Delana’s personal driver and bodyguard, could use a little perking up. He wouldn’t know what hit him, Tori thought with a smirk.

  She jumped back on the correct mental trail and shook off the distraction. Weston may have an inkling about what she and Delana did once a week, but he wasn’t familiar with the craft. She was sure of that. Delana insisted when she started working with Tori that her magical inclinations remain undisclosed. After every appointment, Delana’s parlor and adjoining massage and bodywork room looked as innocent as a physical therapist's office. A physical therapist’s office with an elegant Victorian theme. The stones, crystals, herbs, and candles went into a safe or returned home with Tori. Delana was Tori’s only in-home client. Everyone else she worked with had to come to her office.

  Over the last two and a half years, the former Hollywood actress had become more of a grandmother to Tori than a client. Sure, Delana paid her extremely well for her time and expertise, but their friendship had reached a level where Tori would happily spend time with her for no payment at all. She even suggested removing herself from Delana’s payroll the month before. Delana was more like family.

  Thinking of Weston, she glanced out the leaded windows above the closed drapes. A horizontal row of narrow glass above the tall windows allowed moonlight to shine in but kept out any spying eyes. The angle of the moon told Tori they had already been working about two hours.

  “We have an hour to finish. How is the potion settling?”

  “Ooooh,” Delana hummed. “The infusion has me in a hazy delight. Have I thanked you lately? You are my sweet angel. A gift from the Goddess.”

  Tori wanted to laugh again. No one called her an angel. A demon temptress, yes, but certainly not an angel. Last night would attest to that. Gerard, her latest boy-toy, might have a few choice adjectives to add to “demoness.” She had some fine descriptive words for the too-hot-for-his-own-good bouncer at Club Wicca. He’d played it cool with her last night, and she appreciated his smooth demeanor. Nothing annoyed her more than having a man declare insta-love after one dance together. Tori wasn’t above altering the memory of an over-needy sot, but she hated going to such extremes. Gerard Falke was just the right amount of fun with no expectations. He was definitely interested but not desperate. Monogamy and Tori would never happen. Not only was it against her grain, but it was also in her blood. Long-term relationships were not going to happen to her cursed bloodline. The Witches of Lane County couldn’t marry. Gerard was definitely not the marrying kind. She’d wait a few days before returning to Club Wicca to see him again. A potential new romance could play out until she tired of him. Off the mental track again, she veered toward the present moment.

  “I’m confident the change to your treatment plan is going to do you a world of good.”

  “Well, it can’t make my joints any worse. That’s for certain.”

  Tori grabbed the dish of green paint from the altar table within the circle. The green pigment was infused and radiating the life force of the Helichrysum, Roman Chamomile, and Yuzu. She dipped her finger in the paste and began drawing the sacred symbols on Delana’s palms and feet. The pungent smells mingled with the scents wafting through the room from the lavender, chamomile, and cypress garland ring on the floor around their sacred space. Tori was accustomed to the olfactory overload of medicinal plants and candle wax, but she sympathized for Weston. She imagined he thought of her as an eccentric aromatherapist with a degree in physical therapy.

  Tori moved onto the red paste, again infused with oils and ground up petals. She drew more sacred symbols on Delana’s bare skin. When Tori raised her soft cotton shirt to draw the Goddess symbol on her solar plexus, a gut clenching, stabbing ache struck her own abdomen. Not immune to empathy, Tori instinctively felt Delana’s ache within her own body. She drew the symbol and backed away to grab the black pigment. This was the last of the paint, and only one symbol was needed with the black. It required Delana to roll on her side for Tori to reach her back. When she pulled Delana’s shirt to expose her back and spine, Tori was immediately and psychically aware of Delana’s lower back and more specifically to her ovaries and uterus. She knew then and there Delana suffered from much more than crippling rheumatoid arthritis.

  How was she supposed to tell her friend that a new disease or severe illness resided in her body? Delana would believe her without any doubt. Psychic visions and clairvoyance were Tori’s specialty. It’s how she made her living. Why and when her inner voice spoke tended to be the unpredictable part of her gift. She couldn’t always help someone on demand. Her talents worked better with certain people, places, and things, but not with everyone or everything. As she grew up, and with the help of her mother and Aunt Jet, she learned to recognize clients she could work with more easily. These were the people she would take on as clients if they wanted to hire her. As her business grew and she gained more experience, she rarely had to turn down new clients. Her psychic connection seemed to be expanding. Her client list was now large enough that she didn’t take on anyone new.

  She painted the symbol for grounding on Delana’s lower back. Before helping her client turn over, she grabbed the red paste and added extra marks on the right and left sides of the grounding symbols.

  After Delana had eased onto her back again, she looked into her friend’s violet eyes with compassion and an open heart. “Delana?” she started.

  “I know dear. It started paining me about a month ago.” Delana fumbled for Tori’s hand, and Tori took it.

  “How did you keep this hidden from me, and why?” Tori asked. “We could have started treating you sooner.”

  “I have my reasons, and I didn’t want you to worry. We are already working on all my other issues. What you have been doing for me is enough. To add cancer treatment to the spells and potions is too much.”

  “It is not. We can work together to heal you. You have to get through this.”

  Delana patted Tori’s hand and looked up at the chandelier hanging from the center of the room. “We better finish up now. The moon is setting.”

  Delana was right. Now wasn’t the time to argue over the treatment plan. Tori’s magic spell had reached its pinnacle, and the finishing touches waited for completion.

  Tori returned to the altar table. She picked up the long white taper candle and held the flame to the chalice. The fire ignited and spread over the surface of the clear liquid. The flames burned blue and green, streaked with pure gold like rays of sun across a calm sea. She slid over a step, so she didn’t block Delana’s view of the burning chalice. Tori took a deep breath and picked up the athame from where it lay
on its silk wrapper. She dipped it in the fire then moved to the head of the table.

  “With this consecrated blade I now open the dimension of creation.” In the space above Delana’s head, Tori cut the fabric of the physical plane. The opening stretched the width of Delana’s shoulders and would allow Tori to work with enough space to not feel cramped. She laid the hallowed blade on the table by Delana’s arm and then reached into the fourth dimension. Tori closed her eyes and used her third eye to see in the other realm. From her alternative perspective, she used her hands to smooth, mold, and remove distress and disturbances from Delana’s etheric body. Once satisfied with the results, she went back to the altar, replaced the athame and grabbed her misting bottle. She sprayed the potion inside the opening, letting the magic flow over Delana’s supine body. The floral and evergreen scented mist wafted, hovered, and then fell like soft rain over her. As it dissipated, the hole in the dimensional fabric began to reseal. The magic spell continued to work, but with the closure, she and Delana took a deep soothing breath.

  “Be well, be whole, live in balance, and in good health, Delana Helen Smootz. Blessed be, blessed be, blessed be.”

  Tori moved down the length of the table, holding her hands over her friend. The consecrated mist settled on Delana and sparkled like tiny green diamonds. Tori took her spot at the end of the table by Delana’s feet and watched the spell come to a close. Each minuscule droplet of potion touched Delana then rose like a tiny piece of emerald glitter. They flashed and gleamed in the candlelight and turned from green to gold to silver to pure white. The white diamond dust transformed again this time turning into a cleansing smoke that smelled vaguely of copal and amber. The smoke swirled together and formed a mid-air stream that unexpectedly circled the crown of Delana’s head before cascading upward past the delicate wire chandelier. Then the spell, infused with Delana’s pain and illness, drifted toward the moonbeams and out through the north window. The spell, the energy, and the magic would travel to the moon and transform back into the universe from which it was created.