Oleander, page 11
“What’d you bring me this time?” I asked. I’d long since stopped trying to repay Tessa for the various supplies she brought me. I wasn’t kidding when I told Dan that a witch’s longer than average life meant they could amass a substantial amount of wealth, and Tessa was no exception. Therefore, Tessa had money to burn.
There was also the fact that Tessa still felt a tremendous amount of guilt about what had happened to me. She hadn’t been involved in my kidnapping, but members of her clan had abducted me. That had hurt her deeply. If bringing over a few tins of cookies helped assuage her guilt, I was all for it.
“Oh, the usual. A bouquet of flowers and some candy for the bowl up front, and snacks for us.” Tessa set a plate of artfully arranged cookies on the table. A moment later, she brought over a teapot and two cups. Most wouldn’t follow their morning coffee with a pot of Earl Grey, but not Tessa and I. We could caffeinate like champs.
“I’m surprised you didn’t bust out the good cookies for Dan,” I said as I grabbed one. “Or are you saving those for Bennet?”
“I don’t need baked goods in order to acquire a partner,” Tessa said as she poured the tea. “You, however, need all the help you can get. When did you last have a significant other?”
I narrowed my eyes at Tess. She knew exactly how long it had been since I had a boyfriend, and why I hadn’t had one since. “Anyway. Let’s talk about something other than my lack of a love life.”
“All right. Did you tell Dan everything?”
“Not everything.” I hadn’t even scratched the surface about what I’d endured during those three weeks of hell. “I told him enough.”
“How did he react?”
“He was surprisingly calm.” I don’t know how I’d expected Dan to react to my admittedly abridged version of being abducted and held captive for weeks in a cold, dark basement, but I definitely hadn’t expected him to listen without judgement while I told my story.
“That’s good. It’s a rare person who can listen objectively to such an account.”
“Speaking of rare people,” I began, desperate to change the subject, “tell me about Jacob Allwood.”
“He’s an elder,” Tessa said. “The Allwoods aren’t as strong as they once were, but then again, most clans are a shadow of their former selves. Even so, Jacob was very old, and he wielded a great deal of power.”
“Was he as old as you?”
“No, but he was more powerful. For someone to get close enough to murder him and move his body …” Tessa shook her head. “Let’s just say I’d rather not meet that individual.”
I grabbed a third cookie. I hadn’t eaten after my run and I was starved. “Do you think we should summon him and find out what he knows about his death, or will it just piss him off?”
“If he has half a brain he’ll understand we’re trying to help him.” Tessa stood and walked toward the supply closet. “I’ll get the candles.”
***
Summoning a ghost is rather easy. All you have to do is clear your mind of distractions, and then focus on the decedent in question. That’s right, almost every fortune teller and séance facilitator out there is hawking snake oil when they drag out their cards and crystal balls. You can use those items for other forms of magic, but ghosts tend to ignore all of that. Once you leave the material plane behind, all those props are just so much clutter.
My gran had begun training me to summon when I was a kid. It began as our daily meditation practice; five minutes when I first woke up, and five minutes before bed. Eventually those five minutes became two hours of meditation and mind work per day, and by the time I was twelve—the age when most seer abilities manifested—I could summon individuals who had died decades before I was born. Of course, my abilities had a head start, since the incident with Jada had forced them to manifest when I was eight.
And now, I would use them to summon a witch elder.
Tessa set a candle in the middle of the table while I closed the curtains. A candle was a traditional tool to help one focus, and I did not need any nosy neighbors peeking in on my séance. Not to mention, it was much easier to see a ghost in the dark. Direct light tended to shine right through them and bleach them out. Any time a spirit was in the same room as I was, I wanted to know exactly where they were.
Windows covered, I went to my herb cabinet and selected a branch of dried oleander. I sat across from Tessa, and set the oleander next to the candle.
“Going for broke?” she asked, jerking her chin toward the oleander.
“If you’re going to do it, do it all the way.” I snapped my fingers and the candle’s wick ignited. “Let’s do it.”
“I’m here.”
Twenty years’ worth of experience with ghosts sneaking up on me meant I outwardly didn’t react to Jacob’s sudden appearance. Inwardly, I was screaming like a banshee.
Jacob Allwood’s ghost was seated to my right. He seemed calmer than he’d been at the orchard, not that I had any idea how a ghost should feel after getting freed from a confinement in an apple barrel . His shirt also seemed different, which was interesting. Altering your appearance isn’t something newbie spirits were known to do.
“Hello,” I said. “I wasn’t sure you would come.”
“I don’t have much else to do,” he replied. “Being dead is rather boring.” Jacob turned his attention to Tessa. “I see you’ve brought a witch.”
“Actually, I was already here,” Tessa said. “I’d say it’s good to see you, but under the circumstances I don’t know if that’s appropriate.”
“Always proper, Ms. Beauclaire,” Jacob said. “Even polite in your betrayals.”
Tessa smiled. “I’d be offended, but my abundance of life force reminds me that I am in a better place.”
“That’s enough,” I said; I had no idea how strong Jacob’s spirit was, and I didn’t want him to waste energy bickering with Tessa before I got my questions in. “You can insult each other later. Jacob, when we found you at the orchard you were rather disoriented.”
“You would be too, if you’d been trapped in a gods-forsaken barrel for such a long time.”
“According to forensics you only died a few days ago.”
“My last living memories are of preparing for the clan’s Yule celebration,” Jacob said.
I glanced at Tessa, and she shook her head slightly. Neither of us had expected that tidbit of information. “Do you remember how you died?”
He cast a ghostly hand toward the oleander. “I don’t. I don’t remember anything until you freed me.” He tried to grasp the branch, and frowned when his hand passed through it. “I do know it wasn’t oleander that did me in.”
“Are you sure? Where your body was found—”
“Why wasn’t I at home?” he demanded.
“I don’t know.” He gestured for me to continue. “You were sitting at the kitchen table wearing the same clothes your spirit had on when we met at the orchard.” I paused, wondering how much detail I should give him. “I was at the scene. Your hands had the sort of rash you’d get from improperly handling oleander.”
“But that’s the thing, I know how to handle oleander,” he said. “I can handle all the major poisons. I was a master before Helena was even born.”
I pursed my lips; I did not like how he kept mentioning my grandmother. “Who wanted you dead?”
He laughed through his nose. “Many people.”
“Who wanted your spirit?” Tessa asked, which was a much better question. “Some person or persons went through the trouble of separating your spirit from your body, then they kept that body alive for four months. That’s an awful lot of work, just to dump your body in a random house and sprinkle it with oleander.”
“The house wasn’t random,” he said, then he paused. “Four months?”
“Yeah. It’s April.”
Jacob clenched his fist so hard his knuckles showed white. “That—this—is unacceptable. I am the clan’s elder. For someone to violate my body and my spirit, there will be consequences.”
“There will be,” I said. “Help us find who out did this to you.”
Jacob glanced around. “Is your mortal here? He’s the one with insight into my predicament.”
Tessa’s brow pinched. “You have a mortal? Does he mean Dan?”
“Dan asked Jacob a few salient questions at the orchard,” I replied, hoping she would drop it. “The mortal is currently rounding up your clan for questioning. Anyone in particular he should talk to?”
“My sister, Cecily,” Jacob replied. “She’ll know what happened. Cecily always knows.”
“I will pass that along. What do you know about a Nathaniel?”
Jacob stared at me as if I’d grown a second head, then he turned to Tessa. “Is she serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Tessa replied. “Won’t oleander induce a heart attack?”
Jacob ignored Tessa’s last comment, and said to me, “The only Nathaniel I am aware of is Nathaniel Beauclaire, and you’d do well to stay far away from him.”
“No arguments there,” I said. “We think his spirit possessed a girl for the past twenty-odd years.”
Jacob shook his head. “Impossible. As of this past Yule, Nathaniel was still alive.”
I stared at Jacob, feeling as if the floor had fallen out from under me. “You’re certain?”
“I am.” Jacob’s gaze slid toward Tessa. “Surely you were aware of this.”
“I cut ties with the Beauclaire’s after they abducted Eli,” Tessa said. “Doing so was a condition of my freedom.”
I blinked; I never knew that. “Where is Nathaniel now? Or where was he this past Yule?”
“As far as I know he returned to the old country,” Jacob replied, “and we should hope he remains there. Nathaniel is a prime example of what happens when we isolate ourselves within our power. He had no one to say no to him, and that has led him to put in motion some truly mad plans.”
“So he’s a villain surrounded by sycophants.” I leaned back in my chair. “Great.”
“This is no trivial matter,” Jacob snapped. “Nathaniel is much older than I am, and much more powerful. He seeks to return to the way things were, when witches and even seers wielded more power than mortals.”
I tapped my fingers on the table. “Is that why you’re,” I gestured toward his noncorporeal form, “like this?”
“Perhaps. I was known for standing in his way.” Jacob turned back to Tessa. “As were you. Surely you would stand in his way again.”
“I would,” Tessa said. “Will you help us stop him?”
“I will, as long as you find whoever did this to me.”
Tessa met my gaze. I nodded. “We will,” I said. “I will have Dan contact your sister so we can talk to her. In the meantime, do you know what Nathaniel wants?”
“What he’s always wanted. An army.” With that bombshell, Jacob dissipated.
“Well, he was either out of energy or had someplace to be,” Tessa said.
“There were conditions for you to remain free?” I demanded.
Tessa sat back in her chair. “There were. The seer community was up in arms after you were abducted, more so after you were found. Many called for harsh punishments to the entire clan, even those who weren’t aware of what had happened… and the other clans agreed. They didn’t want their good names besmirched by what the Beauclaires had done.”
“But the entire clan wasn’t punished,” I said. “Why were you? You saved me!”
“But I knew where to find you,” Tessa said. “It’s unusual for someone as young as you were to astral project with such clarity. It was said that you hadn’t projected to me, but that instead I was a party to your abduction.”
“But you weren’t!” My hands were shaking, so I sat on them. “Were you?”
“No. No! Eliza, I was not!” Tessa moved to the chair beside me and held my face in her hands. “Eliza, I would never harm you. I hope you can believe me.”
“I do.” Tessa squeezed her eyes shut and rested her forehead against mine. “Were you cast out of your clan?”
“Not hardly,” Tessa said as she released me. “They lauded me as a hero. I was their poster child for good witches, and the reason why we shouldn’t all be punished.”
“What did Gran say?”
“She said they should make me the head of the clan and I should dole out punishment to the guilty parties as I saw fit.”
“And Dad?”
“He thought those responsible should be slowly, painfully, and publicly executed.” Tessa smiled. “I’ve always gotten along with Alexander.”
I shuddered; sometimes I forgot Tessa was from an older, bloodier era. “So why did you cut ties?”
“It was a compromise, but one that I chose. I am to stay away from the Beauclaire’s for the rest of your natural life, and as long as I do no seer will seek vengeance against me.”
I bit my lip. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome. I like you better than those moldy old witches, anyway.” Tessa blew out the candle, then she rose and started opening the curtains. “We have much better adventures.”
I picked up the dried branch of oleander. Jacob was adamant that he understood how to handle oleander, and that his last memories were around Yule. How had he died? Where had his body been since last December? And how had his spirit ended up trapped in the orchard?
“I have a feeling this adventure will be one for the books,” I said, twirling the branch in my fingers.
“No doubt about that.”
Chapter 14
Three Ghostly Cats
After Tessa and I cleaned up the kitchen, she left to run a few errands while I took a drive to the other side of town to water Gran’s plants. I needed time to clear my head, and let’s face it, those plants weren’t going to water themselves.
I never knew that Tessa had been accused of being part of my kidnapping, or that she’d had to cut ties with her clan in order to remain unpunished. In the chaotic aftermath of my rescue, I was busy recovering, and I’d never really thought about what had happened to her. Once I was well enough to travel, and Dad was due for his next assignment, Gran had encouraged me to go with him so I could leave the whole situation behind.
I spent the next year traveling with my father, and when I returned home, I spent a bare week with Gran before Tessa stopped by and asked if I’d like to accompany her on a trip. She and I traveled together off and on until a little more than a year ago, when Gran got sick.
Sometimes I miss my gran so much I don’t know what to do with myself
But today wasn’t one of those days. I had tasks to complete, and I would do them.
I pulled into the driveway and looked up at Gran’s massive Victorian house. She’d been adamant that despite its grand appearance and many rooms, it wasn’t a mansion. “A mansion is something people buy for appearances,” she’d say. “This is a home for our family.” I couldn’t argue with that, even though these days it was only a home for three ghostly cats.
“I’m home,” I called out from the mudroom. Not a minute later I heard the patter of three sets of paws, and the Feline Federation came to greet me. They were called Smokey, Pumpkin, and Muffuletta, a gray, calico, and tabby cat. These three had been with Gran since she was a kid, and when they passed on, she somehow brought their spirits back in such a solid state, they looked and behaved like living cats. We’d all assumed they were tied to Gran and they would follow her once she passed, but she was gone and here they remained. I hoped Gran didn’t miss them too much.
“I missed you, too,” I said, as I crouched down to hand out the obligatory pets and scritches. After they were placated—for now—Pumpkin hopped onto my shoulder and I went into the kitchen to fill the watering can. That done, I opened up the solarium.
I have a feeling that when Bennet ordered his authentic Victorian greenhouse, he’d been trying to copy Gran’s solarium. This room predated the Victorians by a few decades, but it was magnificent. It was a hexagonal room set right off the kitchen, and the first few plants inside the door were culinary herbs. Go a few steps further in, and that’s where the edibles ended.
Gran had loved her plants, and most of all she’d loved her poisons. The biggest and oldest plant was a white oleander, which my grandfather, Adesh, had given her on their wedding day. He’d definitely known the way to Gran’s heart. Also present were several species of lilies, some foxgloves and hyacinths, and a huge purple-flowered thornapple. Despite that almost everything in this room could kill me, it was my favorite spot in the house.
Watering complete, I flopped down onto one of the three chaises Gran had arranged in a circle. Honestly, in the year since she died I’d changed nothing about the house, and I had no plans to. It was perfect the way it was.
Pumpkin reentered the solarium and hopped onto the bookcase. She’s always been my favorite of the Feline Federation, originally because she was a calico. I loved her orange spots, shaped like tiny pumpkins on her back. As I got older I realized that Pumpkin has a sixth sense about her, and she frequently saw answers where others saw obstacles. I approached the bookshelf, and her fluffy tail brushed the spine of a certain book: Granny Apple’s Magical Recipes from the Orchard.
“Where did this come from?” I’d read every single book and pamphlet and reference material in this house at least twice, and I had no memory of an apple-based cookbook. I flipped to the title page, and saw the author listed as Granny Apple. Cute, in a nauseating way. The publisher was Stone Creek Press.
Jacob Allwood’s ghost had been trapped in a barrel of apple seeds at Stone Creek Orchard.
“Thanks, Pumpkin.” I scratched her ears, and slid the cookbook into my bag, planning to read it back at my place. Since everything was as it should be, I returned the watering can to the kitchen, gave the Feline Federation their goodbye snuggles, and locked up the house. These days I didn’t mind leaving the house empty, not like I had right after Gran died. The cats would keep watch, and I’d be back in a few days, anyway.
