Craved

“No, I was alone last night.” It was odd that old Ms. Ozland was asking about my sex life. Sadly I hadn’t had sex in almost two years, but I wouldn’t tell her that.

“Not of the solid body sense, girly. I’m talking about the spiritual sense. Your aura is all over the place, purple swirled with dark gray. I’ve only ever seen dark gray with spirit walkers and as far as I know, you’re not one of those, are you?” She strummed her fingers against her knobby knee and waited for an answer. Spirit walkers were few and far between and I hadn’t ever met one. I read about them in the Magic Encyclopedia. They were witches who could jump from our reality into the realm of death and walk amongst the spirits. Not like regular psychics, who could only see spirits, but were prohibited from going where they lurked.

“I...there is a spirit, Bridget, who’s been visiting me. I had a dream about her last night and the other day it felt as if I were sucked into a dark void where she was. I don’t purposely visit her though. My cat is my link to the spirit world and allows me to read the thoughts of the dead,” I told her.

Witches all have special abilities and some are more powerful than others. You had your spell casters, like Ms. Ozland, who made potions and could enchant objects. There were psychics who could communicate with the dead and see glimpses of the future. Seers who could predict the future, and witches who could literally shoot magic from their fingertips. It seemed I had a mixture of abilities, from being able to manipulate and form objects, to producing magic in my hand; but the last, and maybe most rare, was my ability to see glimpses of the memories of the deceased, with the help of Aura. I’d never thought about being the only witch I’d ever known who could see into the memories of the dead. Maybe that was a tiny power of a spirit walker?

“Your cat can act as a conduit between yourself and the spirit world, but she can not project you into the realm of the death, which I suspect is where you were last night and why you’re so tired today. It takes a lot of practice and energy to walk amongst the dead. It seems you have a little spirit walker in you, and with a little practice, I imagine you’ll find that you can do more than you ever thought you could. Interesting…” Ms Ozland said with awe coloring her tone.

“You’re saying that I wasn’t in my bed last night, I was actually in what?…the ghostly plain?” The whole thing sounded ludicrous and had me wondering if Ms. Ozland had taken one too many potions that might be affecting her head. I instantly regretted coming to the old woman’s cottage, because if she were right, then my whole world was about to change. I couldn’t say that I was excited about the news. If I were, in fact, some kind of spirit walker, then I’d be treated like a freak in a circus sideshow. Step right up and see one of the last spirit walkers.

“That gray swirling within your aura isn’t a fluke my dear, that’s death. The dream you speak of wasn’t a dream, you were in the realm of the spirits,” Ms. Ozland said matter-of-factly. I noticed she was watching me with a sort of curiosity that made me feel like a specimen under a microscope. I rose to leave, still feeling lethargic, but Ms. Ozland held up a hand to stop me. Without saying a word, she went to her rustic kitchen and opened cabinets as she searched for something. I rolled my neck, hoping to ease the tension that had settled within its muscles

As I waited for Ms. Ozland to find whatever she was looking for, I thought about spirit walkers and why there weren’t many of them. It seemed odd that their gift was a limited commodity. Every being that held magic had gotten it from nature itself. Everything was connected with a web of energy that we could not see. This energy somehow flowed through our veins and allowed us to do amazing things that humans often feared. Maybe since spirit walkers could walk from our reality into a darker dimension, it wasn’t nature’s magic but something else, something more sinister. Gooseflesh broke out along my arms as I had the mental conversation with myself and when Ms. Ozland returned, she was holding what looked like a Zip-loc baggie full of teabags.

“Your gift isn’t to be feared, Gwen, it’s a rare and unique magic.”

I rubbed my arms as if it would make the goose bumps disappear. Ms. Ozland was holding the baggie out to me and I accepted with an arched eyebrow.

“It’s an energetic potion you drink in the form of tea. Drink it only when you return from the ghostly plain and need to regain your energy.” I tucked the baggie inside my purse and pulled out my wallet, fully intending to pay Ms. Ozland for her help.

“How much do I owe you?” She waved a hand in the air as if to erase my question.

“I’m very happy to help one of the few spirit walkers still alive today, free of charge.” I reluctantly tucked my wallet back in my purse and gave her a nervous smile, not completely convinced I was what she said I was.

The drizzle had turned into a steady rainfall and I cursed myself for not taking my car the short distance. My hair was plastered to my face and my makeup was surely ruined. I picked up my pace as if I could outrun the rain that seemed hell-bent on drowning me. I stopped into Espresso Self, hoping a large mocha and muffin would lend me some energy until I could have a cup of Ms. Ozland’s tea.

Broomsticks was nearly empty when I returned. I set down the coffee I’d gotten for Penny and gave her an apologetic smile. All of the shops were closing early tonight for the Founder’s Day Gala and the weather had kept the curious tourists tucked in their hotel rooms. I had to wonder if a resident of Flora wasn’t responsible for the downpour.

Penny took a sip of her coffee and I wrapped both of my hands around my own cup to absorb all the warmth it offered. With a smile, Penny grabbed a handheld mirror we kept behind the counter and held it out so that my face was reflected in it.

“Drowned rat on aisle one,” she said with amusement. My mascara ran south and my dark hair clung against my head in a stringy mess. I groaned at my appearance, embarrassed I’d gone into Espresso Self in such a condition. I quickly covered my face with both hands and concentrated on being free of any makeup. When I removed my hands, my face didn’t hold a gram of the stuff. I ran my hands down my hair and willed the strands to be dry. I checked the mirror again and although I now looked like a plain-Jane, it was better than how I looked before.

“Why didn’t you just conjure an umbrella?” Penny asked, like it was the obvious answer.

“My mind’s been in a fog, otherwise I would have, or taken my car like a smart person,” I told her. A man in his forties stepped up to the register and deposited his items on the counter. I let Penny ring him up and waited patiently while she finished the sale. Once he paid and was on his way out, I went to the door and locked it.

“We’re closing extra early,” I told Penny. We normally closed at six and today stores were closing at three to allow enough time for everyone to primp for the enormous soiree that evening. I was only closing the shop two hours earlier than usual; I loved being the boss.

**************

I rushed home, hoping to get a couple hours of sleep, although I was afraid what might happen if I closed my eyes. Would Bridget be waiting to pull me back where she waited in that depressing farmhouse? I still wasn’t convinced that I had anything to do with my visits from her. Wouldn’t I have had some inkling if I were a spirit walker? Unless my ability to read death’s memories was linked to a spirit walker. Once again, I had too many questions and no answers.

I pulled into my normal parking spot and quickly ran up the stairs to my apartment. I had to push a little harder on the front door to get it to open, the moisture causing it to stick. Surprisingly, the apartment was empty, except for Aura who slept on the arm of the sofa. I shook off my leather jacket and hung it on the rack by the door. There was no telling where Fiona was, she didn’t work. Most likely she was getting pampered at the salon for tonight. A pang of jealously stuck in my gut but I quashed it and went to my bedroom. The party didn’t start until eight so I could get at least two hours of sleep before I had to primp myself.

I forced my wet jeans down and stepped out of them and did the same with my shirt, so that I was only wearing my underwear and bra. I climbed into the warmth of my bed and thought I’d literally died and gone to heaven. I couldn’t remember ever being so exhausted. It wasn’t long before my eyes sealed shut and the many questions that floated within my brain were dissolved into oblivion.

Flashes of memories played through my mind, but not of the spiritual sense. Pictures of Aiden occupied my mind, like a slide show. The flashes stopped on the day we met, two years ago. I was sitting in a café with my laptop, going over the store’s finances. I could feel someone watching me, that intuitive feeling everyone possesses. I looked up and a slight blush colored my cheeks upon noticing a man with impeccable cheekbones, bright blue eyes, and jet black hair watching me. I gave him a small smile and returned my attention to my computer screen. I couldn’t concentrate on what I was doing though;, I looked up again and saw that he was still watching me. He was, by far, the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. He smiled at me, revealing perfectly white teeth and in response I smiled back. It seemed he was infectious, I couldn’t ignore him. I quickly remembered I already had a very handsome boyfriend, so I gathered my stuff and began to leave. Unless I wanted to walk all the way around the café to avoid this man’s table, I had to walk right past him.

Luckily, he didn’t say anything to me when I walked by his table. I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and pushed through the doors. I had taken maybe ten steps before I heard a man’s voice say “Hey”. I turned around to see if he was talking to me and it was the man from the café. He walked to where I stood and silently laughed. I looked at him sheepishly and waited to find out what he wanted.

“My name’s Aiden. When I saw you, I couldn’t risk not introducing myself to such a beautiful woman,” he said, in a voice as smooth as velvet. I laughed nervously and said,

“I’m Gwen.” I didn’t comment on his compliment, not knowing how to respond. He held out his hand and I looked at it before deciding it was rude to ignore it. I clasped his hand and noticed the lukewarm temperature, he was a vampire. It didn’t matter what he was, he was beautiful to look at. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">