Spiritbound Read online

  Danila’s mouth dropped open and then closed. She screwed up her face as she composed a reply. ‘What a terrible rumour. He’s just right for a big man. A comfortable fit.’

  Grace leaned in closer, suspecting the lie but not able to read Danila. A stupid bitch-witch she might be, but she kept all her shallow thoughts locked up tight in her empty head.

  Grace knew in her bones that Grace was lying. She couldn’t have encountered Declan’s appendage and been so blasé about it. He was extraordinary and in no way a comfortable fit. Besides, he was a wonderful lover and if Danila had bonked him properly, she’d be grinning from ear to ear and boasting her head off. If she had done that, then Grace would’ve hexed her good and proper, boils on her face, hair falling out, tongue turning black—that type of thing. Of course it was only a thought, but she couldn’t help imagining it and grinning at the same time.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll find him a satisfactory mate. He intends to live with his parents and have them help with any children.’ Two could play at this game, Grace thought as she rubbed her chin. ‘They want him to have…’ Grace struggled to find a number. ‘…seven kids. One a year, preferably a couple of sets of twins so they can fill their home up with love and the sound of babies gurgling.’

  A touch of guilt did wend its way into Grace’s heart when she saw Danila’s face turn grey. Her chai latte arrived and her eyes centred on it. It looked like it was her turn to throw up. A small tickling sense of guilt nagged Grace. Luckily it disappeared in a flash.

  The way Declan’s parents behaved added truth to her words. Grace was about to relent, admitting to teasing her, until Danila picked up her latte, took a sip and then looked down her nose at her. ‘At least I’ll have a mate, and children. I feel sorry for you, Grace. Such a boring life, boring looks, boring talents.’ She leaned across the table and spun the magazine around. ‘Cooking meals for your mother until she dies. And your sappy half-witch cousin making clothes for a living. How interesting and exciting.’

  Grace’s mouth dropped open. Danila downed the rest of her chai. May it burn her evil throat. She waltzed out, waving to the waiter and leaving Grace to pay for her drink. That tears it, thought Grace. With a quick and subtle twist of her magic, she dissolved the thread in the seam at the back of Danila’s tight skirt so that it started to split. A happy glimpse of her underwear was a welcome sight before she stepped out of view. That will teach her.

  After a few minutes digesting what had happened, Grace was less inclined to feel guilty. Obviously Danila hadn’t heard any gossip concerning Declan’s adventures between the sheets with Grace, yet how cruel was Danila? It hurt so much. Danila and Grace had used to play together when they were young, until Grace had raised Fel from the dead. Hadn’t anything they’d been to each other survived? Was it all about competition and looks and one-upmanship?

  At that moment, Grace was glad she had been shunned all these years. She was happy with the person she’d become. Maybe she would’ve turned out like Danila or some of the other more obnoxious bitch-witches. They weren’t all bad, she knew that, but for some reason they ended up in her face, giving her a hard time.

  Her eyes passed over the cake display and she thought a little pick-me-up worthwhile. No point in returning home full of negative vibes her mother would pick up and then interrogate her about. ‘A salted-caramel macaron, thank you. And another long black, Roma blend.’

  The waiter gave her a wink and Grace smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears. The waiter was Italian and with Grace’s olive skin and dark eyes and hair, she supposed she could pass for one too.

  Her macaron arrived along with a fresh coffee. She was contemplating them and inhaling their aroma when Elena plonked herself down. ‘Hi. I thought I might find you here.’

  ‘Elena, how nice to see you. What are you wearing?’

  She tugged on the material of her blouse. ‘Do you like it?’

  It was a peasant blouse, embroidered around the neckline. ‘Did you make it?’

  ‘Yes.’ Elena frowned. ‘A bit too…’

  ‘It’s fine if you were a gypsy, I guess. You sew really well though.’ She peered closer at the stitching. ‘Neatly done.’

  Elena ordered a café latte. ‘I just spoke to Danila, bitch face.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, she’s really down on you. How come you said Declan had a little…’ She wiggled her pinky. ‘I mean you never mentioned—’ She screwed up her face. ‘Now that I think of all the noise you made while you were at it, I don’t believe that.’

  Grace bit into her macaron to stop herself from smirking.

  Elena squared her shoulders and tried to use her talent to read Grace. When that didn’t work, she thought about it. ‘I think I get it. You said it to get back at her, didn’t you?’

  Grace swallowed another mouthful of macaron. ‘She intimated to me that she’d been sexually active with Declan, prior to their pending “joining”. I thought I’d test that theory.’

  ‘She was dead lying to you, wasn’t she?’

  Grace nodded before taking a sip of her coffee. ‘I don’t feel bad at all, although Mother wouldn’t approve. She said some pretty horrible things to me before she left.’

  ‘That cow! As if you didn’t have enough on your plate. You should never have let her have your Cinderella Barbie when you were kids. It melted her brain or something.’

  Grace burst out laughing. ‘I love you, Elena. Thank you for being in my life.’ She leaned closer and told her what she’d done to Danila’s skirt. Elena guffawed loudly, then snuck the last piece of Grace’s macaron into her mouth.

  ‘You go too far,’ Grace said, mock indignantly.

  ‘That was yum. Can we buy some to take home for dessert?’

  ‘We sure can.’ Grace finished the last of her coffee while Elena finished hers. They left the café arm in arm, a paper bag full of macarons of various flavours in Grace’s bag.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘What’s that?’ Elena asked as they walked up the drive. Grace frowned at the motorbike parked there and stood stock-still, her shopping bags dropping to the ground. Elena ducked down to scoop them up. ‘I’m guessing that means Declan is here.’

  Grace’s stomach churned, the coffee she’d drunk turning to acid. Her legs shook a little. She wasn’t expecting to see him and was quite reluctant to. What if he had heard about the ‘under-endowed’ comment? She swallowed. ‘Elena, give me my bags back.’

  Elena passed them to her. ‘Are you sure? You look very pale.’

  ‘I’m fine. Like a sinking boat is fine during a cyclone.’

  Elena made an O of surprise with her lips. Grace didn’t move forward until her mother hailed her and told her not to keep dallying in the driveway in full view of their guest.

  ‘Drat.’

  She told Elena what her mother had said. ‘Bugger!’

  ‘I couldn’t have said it better.’ Better composed, Grace hoisted her shopping bags and followed Elena into the house.

  ‘Here let me put these in your room,’ Elena said, taking her shopping and ducking down the hallway.’

  ‘Hello. I wasn’t expecting to see you.’

  Declan stood up from the sofa. He and Elvira had been in deep discussion, if the vibes in the room were anything to go on. The curtains were open, letting in the light and providing a full view of the driveway. She had been observed.

  Her mother heaved herself off the sofa. ‘I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ve got some things to prepare and messages to send to the rest of the council.’

  ‘Mother?’

  ‘We’ll talk later, dearest.’ Elvira walked out of the room without a backward glance. Grace turned to Declan, a question on her lips.

  Declan picked up her hand and squeezed it. ‘It’s good to see you again, Grace.’

  ‘Thank you. Look, about the last time we spoke—’

  ‘Yes…look I’m sorry about that. My mother isn’t well. The fact is I need your help—yours and your
mother’s.’

  ‘My help? I don’t think she’d approve.’

  ‘Beatrice from the healing centre said you might and we’ve got nothing else. She said there was something foreign affecting my mother’s mind.’

  Grace sat down on the sofa, thoroughly puzzled. ‘Beatrice Standish, the healer, recommended me?’ She shook her head. ‘I didn’t even realise she knew I existed. How would she know…why would she think…?’ Grace looked at the doorway where her mother had wandered. Elvira had been holding out on her.

  ‘Will you come? That’s all I’m asking.’

  ‘Of course, I’ll come and I’ll do what I can but I fear I’ll be relying on my mother and Beatrice because I have no idea how I can help. Seeing your mother dislikes me so much, I really doubt that I can.’

  He squeezed her hands gently and then leaned down to kiss on her on the forehead. ‘Thank you. I knew you would. You mother is going to transport herself. I can take you on my bike. Is that okay?

  ‘Yes, sure. Give me a few minutes.’

  Grace poked her head into Elena’s room to let her know they were heading out. Elena frowned. ‘You’re going to help heal his mother? Do take care. I have a feeling that it’s not going to be as straightforward as expected.’

  ‘Is that your talent or general scepticism?’

  Elena shrugged. ‘A bit of both. I just have a bad feeling’—She placed her hand on her stomach—‘here.’

  Grace had a similar feeling but she was so out of kilter with seeing Declan again, she couldn’t see or sense clearly. ‘That might be coming from me. You know I always transmit my anxiety to you. Or it could be because you’re going to eat all the macarons by yourself and know you’ll be sick after.’

  Elena laughed and rubbed her stomach.

  Fel jumped up on the bed and meowed eerily.

  Hold on to that tom, Fel thought at her.

  Grace frowned. She could take that two ways. I’ll try, she thought back.

  Elena rubbed its ghostly substance between the ears. Grace stared at the cat, expecting another sage or sarcastic comment, but it looked at her and meowed again, sending chills up Grace’s spine.

  ‘Did Fel talk to you again?’ Elena asked.

  Grace nodded.

  ‘That’s not fair. It’s my cat. It should talk to me.’

  ‘Hear that, Fel? Be nice to Elena.’

  Fel flicked its tail and sauntered away.

  ‘Snob,’ Elena said to the departing cat.

  Grace shrugged. ‘I’d better go. I’ll call you when I know something.’

  Elena twisted her hair up into a knot. ‘Okay. Takeaway pizza tonight!’

  Grace shook her head. She wasn’t even out of the house and Elena was indulging in junk food. She was incorrigible.

  She received a parting hail from her mother as she brushed her teeth. ‘See you there. Don’t take long and be careful.’

  Grace stewed over those words, seeking something underhanded. There was something very cloak and dagger about all this.

  ‘I’m ready.’ Declan wasn’t in the living room as she came down the hall. She heard the revving of the motorbike and realised he was ready to roll. She marched outside and received a grin and a helmet. In no time they were off, back to the Blue Mountains where they’d spent their first night. Mustn’t think about that now. Particularly while you have your arms wrapped around all that man.

  Grace had time to think on the way out to the health centre. Declan was troubled. It was clear from meeting him again and from holding him. He was pretty good at keeping a lid on his thoughts and feelings, so much wasn’t leaking through. A sense of relief and hope flowed through him, knowing that she was coming to help. That was rather daunting, considering she’d not healed anyone before. She was good at sensing people, detecting if they’d been hexed, but surely Beatrice would have been able to pick that up and deal with it herself.

  Grace took in the landscape whizzing past—the rows upon rows of houses and the grey blue of the mountains growing larger the further they sped down the Great Western Highway.

  When she climbed off the bike, she was a bit stiff. Her legs were not very cooperative so she stomped on the spot and massaged her lower back. Declan put the gear away in the panniers. The sun was setting and the view to the city and across the large tranche of bush took on a peachy hue. It was a majestic spot. A little too prone to bushfires for Grace’s liking, but the mountains had a fantastic vibe, as if goddess and earth met there.

  They walked around the path, through neatly tended gardens to the front door. To a casual observer it was a large, historic house. To the coven, it was a place of healing.

  ‘You really should learn to transport yourself, my dear.’ Elvira gave her a kiss on her cheek. An older woman with greying hair tied up in a bun and wearing a flowing dress in brown cottage print stood behind her.

  ‘This is Beatrice. You probably don’t remember her very well.’

  She had a flash of insight and Grace remembered childhood images of this woman touching her. She recalled her smile and light spirit. ‘I don’t remember you well, but I do have some vague recollections from when I was a child.’

  Beatrice smiled, revealing startling, white straight teeth. ‘You have grown up to be so beautiful. You are full of light and love.’ She touched a finger to Grace’s cheek. ‘You have your father’s dark complexion, but I see Elvira in you too. You have her sparkling eyes, and probably a great deal of her wit too.’

  ‘Thank you for the compliments. I’m at a bit of a loss to know how I can help.’

  Beatrice lowered her gaze. ‘Perhaps we can talk in private.’ Grace stiffened as Declan sucked in a surprised breath at the attempt to exclude him.

  ‘Perhaps somewhere where we can all sit down comfortably?’ She turned to include Declan.

  ‘I’ll be with you in a moment,’ he said. ‘I have to pop in and see my mother and let my father know you are here. He may want to listen in on your discussions.’

  Beatrice and Elvira shared a look. ‘Of course, come into the lounge. There’s no one else about. I suppose I should organise food too. It will be a long night.’ Beatrice closed her eyes, and Grace felt a slight tingle as the older witch sent a message to someone, probably the kitchen staff.

  The lounge room had a large leather lounge suite with enough space to seat ten people. The curtains were still parted, the dark velvet invoking the Victorian era. Photos graced the mantelpiece and one wall was stacked with bookshelves. Grace sighed as she sank into her seat. She wanted one of these leather couches when she settled in her own place.

  A young witch came in bearing a tray. ‘Thank you, Jessie.’ Beatrice turned to Elvira. ‘My granddaughter.’

  Elvira nodded and smiled as the girl walked away. Beatrice passed around tea in dainty cups. Grace took hers. While she didn’t pry into all her mother’s interactions, she’d never heard her speak of this particular old healer witch and as far as Grace knew, Beatrice hadn’t come to the house, not in recent years. Yet, there was an obvious connection between them, a fond friendship.

  ‘Now, about Delores.’

  Declan came in at that moment. Elvira indicated a seat. ‘We were just starting. Tea?’

  Declan waved the tea away. Grace detected his increased anxiety. He must be extremely stressed for her to detect it from where she sat.

  ‘Is your father joining us?’ Beatrice asked.

  Declan shook his head. ‘He is staying with my mother for a bit longer.’

  ‘Right then,’ Beatrice said. She took a long drink of her tea and set the cup aside, then she folded her hands across her lap and looked at them in turn. She cleared her throat. ‘I believe that Delores is suffering from an infestation.’

  ‘Infestation?’ Grace blurted.

  Elvira lifted her hand, signalling for quiet.

  ‘I think it’s a fragment of er…how do I say this…a spirit.’

  Declan sat up straighter. ‘You’re talking possession.’

 
; Beatrice shrugged. ‘Not quite a possession. At least, that’s what I think. Something is troubling her, eating at her. It was hard to detect, to make certain, but I got a sense of something else there. Like the scent of bad meat.’ She turned over her hands in a helpless gesture.

  Elvira made eye contact with Grace and then inclined her head. Grace swirled her tongue around in her mouth while she considered what they were saying. ‘You think I can connect or in some way detect this spirit fragment, if that’s what it is?’

  ‘Yes, darling. That’s what Bea thinks.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I think you have the talent and the strength for this.’

  Grace thought about the rules she’d been taught. She’d need permission but even then it skirted on outlawed. Declan picked up her hand. ‘Please, Grace. Try.’

  ‘I have your permission? I mean, I can’t imagine your mother would or could give it to me.’

  Declan nodded and squeezed her hand again. ‘I’ve spoken to my father and he has given his permission for you to assist.’ He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. ‘Grace, I would love to have my mother whole. Please help her.’

  Grace extracted her hand. ‘I can only try. I hope the coven is cool with this because contacting dead things is not something they’re keen on.’

  ‘We are both here to watch over you, dear,’ Elvira said. She stood up and turned to Declan. ‘You do realise that this may not work. Grace may not be able to help your mother. I am not being pessimistic, but I think you should be prepared. There is a risk of harm, if this fragment is too integrated into your mother.’

  He nodded. ‘I am. Beatrice said it was a chance only. The alternative is to have her locked up in a mental institution with no hope of recovery.’

  ‘Then let’s do it,’ Elvira said.

  ‘This way,’ Beatrice said as she got up and went to the door. ‘Declan, it would be best if you took your father for a walk or something. Elvira will hail you if there is any news.

  ‘But…’

  ‘It’s best this way. Believe me. We’ll take good care of your mother.’