Witch of Christmas Past (8 page)

The wind had died down, but there was a heavy mist in the air that made driving the Island Loop Road even more treacherous than usual.

Zane was waiting for me at the lighthouse, but Delia hadn’t arrived.

“If you have second thoughts, now would be the time to back out,” I told him.

“Not at all.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of missing an opportunity like this. To be honest, I miss Victorian London.”

“Hmm … okay. If you say so.”

The glow of headlights approaching caught my attention, but it wasn’t until the car was much closer that the light cut through the fog and I could see it was Delia’s little red smart car.

Delia’s car was so small that I sure hoped she didn’t hit a clump of weeds too hard. No doubt it would total the thing.

She parked next to Lady Luck and got out, lugging a large book and small leather bag that I assumed must contain her casting supplies.

“I hope you’re ready for this,” she said, shaking her head in what I interpreted as dismay.

“Don’t worry, Delia. I have faith in you.”

A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Glad you do, because I’m not sure I do.”

I fell into step beside her as she headed toward the beach. “I’m confused about something, According to Granny’s letter, the portal is offshore. How are we supposed to reach the right spot in order for you to do the spell?”

“Unless you have a boat in your pocket and don’t mind diving in the middle of the night … we’ll have to widen the portal.”

“Can you do that?” I gasped.

Delia gave me a sideward glance. “You were a witch at one time, right? I can’t believe you were never fully trained.”

I gave her a guilty smile. “That was kind of my fault. Granny wanted me to train, but I wasn’t that interested. Annabelle was always the better witch anyway.”

“Hogwash!” Delia waved my words away. “You were just lazy.”

Zane shook his head. “Pointy hats just aren’t for Izzy. I think the black wings are far more attractive.”

“Whatever!” I rolled my eyes.

When we reached the beach, the fog was even thicker. It gave new meaning to the old saying, thick as pea soup.

“I don’t even know how you are going to see out here,” I commented, letting my sour outlook shine through.

Delia settled on a spot that was only a few feet from the water’s edge. “This will have to do.”

Pulling a flashlight from the pocket of her jacket, she handed it to Zane. “Here, make yourself useful. Keep the light pointed to the area where I’m working.”

“Of course, Ms. Antson.” Zane gave her a gracious smile and switched on the flashlight.

If she’d ruffled his feathers with her comment about his usefulness, he wasn’t letting on.

Delia pulled a bottle of white powder from her bag and started sprinkling it on the sand, making a complete circle around her.

“You two stay on the outside of the circle. Until I am finished with the spell, the circle cannot be broken.”

“Isn’t it dangerous for us to be outside the circle?” I asked.

I wasn’t an expert witch, but I knew that much.

“It probably is … but you have to go through the portal, and you cannot do it if you are inside the circle with me,” she explained.

Well, that made sense.

“Okay, are the two of you ready?”

We both nodded.

“When you see the portal, jump into it. The spell will only keep it open on the other side for three days. I’ll do my best to make the spell strong enough that it remains open the entire time it is supposed to, but I am not giving any guarantees. I suggest that you find Stella and bring her back as soon as possible.”

“How will we know if it is still open on the other side?” I asked.

Delia shook her head. “I have no idea.”

Well, that didn’t sound encouraging, but going back in time was the only way I was going to reach Granny.

Delia pulled a golden pocket watch from her bag and set it in the middle of the circle. She then took an hourglass from the bag and placed it on top of the watch.

Raising her eyes to Zane and me, she said, “Get ready.”

Zane grabbed my hand and squeezed.

I didn’t mind. In fact, it actually felt good.

Raising her arms to the sky, Delia’s v
oice boomed through the night. “
Tolle tres soles aperuit statim reddemus que tempore
!”

Latin wasn’t one of those witchy areas that I had excelled in, so I could barely make out what she was saying.

Delia sprinkled something on the hourglass and there was a sudden flash of light.

My heart dropped into my stomach when the sea started gathering into a shimmering wall of water right in front of us. Within seconds, we were staring at a hundred feet of churning water.

Suddenly there was a black hole in the wall of water.

“Go now!” Delia hollered.

I ran toward the hole and jumped in without thinking. If I’d taken the time to think about what I was actually doing, I wasn’t so sure I’d have the courage to go through with it. That black hole looked scary as hell.

We were swallowed by an inky void so completely empty of light; it actually felt as if I were drawing the darkness into my body through my lungs. Abruptly, it changed to blinding white light, and then there was a rainbow of color.

Before I had time to process this strange journey, I hit bottom with a hard thump.

Sharp - agonizing pain tore through my arm, shooting all the way up to my shoulder.

When the pain dulled to just excruciating, I took in the fact that we were on some kind of stage with hundreds of eyes on us. Judging by the way the audience and the people on the stage were staring at us, I surmised that we must have literally fallen from the ceiling.

A strangely dressed man stared down at me, which could have had something to do with the fact that I’d landed at his feet.

“Say … what are you doing on our stage?”

My mouth fell open. All I could do was lie there on the stage, frozen.

But Zane was there to save the day. Grabbing my uninjured arm, he pulled me to my feet. “We have to get out of here!”

We made our escape through a curtain at the back of the stage, but it wasn’t long before two thugs were chasing us.

After fleeing through a maze of rooms and props, we finally found a door that exited into a little alley. Instead of heading down the alley, as I would have done, Zane pulled me around the front of the building and across the street. At first I thought it was a foolish move until I realize how quickly we were swallowed by the multitude of people crowding the street.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the two men standing to the side of the
Adelphi Theatre
, scanning the crowd. That didn’t last long before they gave up and went inside.

It seemed forever before Zane stopped. I took advantage of the reprieve to catch my breath.

“Now what?” I asked when I was no longer gasping for air.

He shrugged. “This is your show … remember? Where did your grandmother say she was?”

“She said she was in Whitechapel … and that they called her the Witch Doctor.”

“Okay … this way,” he said, nodding his head in the direction we’d already been traveling.

“How far is it?”

“Whitechapel is at least an hour walk, so we better get moving,” he replied.

“Don’t they have some kind of taxi system? My arm is killing me.”

Stopping abruptly, Zane looked at my arm. By the expression on his face, it was obvious he’d just noticed how it was hanging at an awkward angle.

“We could hire a carriage … if we had some kind of currency that was real in 1883. Let me see your arm,” he said, turning me around to get a better look.

“It is broke. Why didn’t you say something?” he asked.

“You didn’t give me a chance!” I scowled.

Taking my other arm, he gently led me to a dark deserted alley, I assumed for the sake of privacy. I was right.

Zane lifted his wrist to his mouth and white fangs kind of just popped out. He bit at his wrist, creating an open wound.

“Drink. It will heal your arm.”

I shook my head. “No way!”

“Do it, Izzy!” he commanded.

“I’m a fallen angel … they won’t let me out of the hot spot that easily.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. If your arm were going to heal on its own, it would have already done so by now. You should try to remember that you are an angel with black wings, which means whoever is in charge, isn’t going to worry too much if you endure a bit of pain and suffering while earning redemption.”

I finally gave in and let him put his wound to my lips, but it was more on account of my arm killing me than because he was being so bossy.

Almost instantly I felt warmth and a strange tingling sensation spreading throughout my body, especially between my legs. My nipples perked right up as I was filled with images of sleek bodies entangled in the most ancient of dances.

I suddenly found that I was fixated on the thought of Zane feeding on me.

What would it feel like if he were to sink his fangs into the flesh of my breast - my inner thigh?

Just the thought set me on fire. As soon as he pulled his wrist from my mouth, I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Feed on me,” I breathed.

That’s when I saw the hunger reflected in those blue, mesmerizing eyes and I felt an instant of panic, but it faded quickly. Self-preservation could not overcome my need for him. All I could think about was melding with him – my body becoming one with his.

Grasping my shoulders with both hands, he gently pushed me away.

“Please don’t tempt me, Izzy.” There was a trembling in his voice that sent a tingle down my back.

Swallowing hard, I turned away.

“It is my blood doing this,” he informed me. “Vampire blood will heal you, but it is also like a super aphrodisiac.”

Suddenly, I realized that my arm didn’t hurt and it was no longer twisted.

“Thank you for healing me.”

“We should go,” he urged. “The sooner we find your grandmother, the sooner we can go back to our own time.”

It took over an hour to make our way through the dark streets of London to Whitechapel.

The scenery began to change from what I thought of as average Victorian, to slummy over-crowded streets. There were still people out and about, but now they were scruffy looking men and women of the night, nineteenth-century style.

We received tons of curious stares as we made our way through the crowds. I figured the strange looks were due to the way we were dressed. With me in my high top boots and knee length skirt, not to mention Zane in his jeans and flannel, we had to look weird.

After about twenty minutes of wandering the dirty streets of Whitechapel, it was time to admit that we were lost.

“We need to start asking people if they know a witch doctor,” I told Zane.

Without comment, Zane stopped in front of a woman whose tattered lavender dress was practically ripping at the seams. There was just no way it was going to hold the woman’s oversized body for long.

I suspected the dress hadn’t originally belonged to her, but there was no way of telling if she’d been given the garment, or if she’d stolen it off some prostitute that had passed out from too much drink.

“Madam.” Zane tilted his head. “Do you know of a woman known as Stella the Witch Doctor?”

When the prostitute smiled, I noticed several gaps where there should have been teeth.

“I can do better than she to ease your pain,” the woman responded, slurring her words.

“Oh, it is not for me … but for my companion.” Zane motioned to me.

The woman eyed me with open skepticism before responding. “The witch doctor be rooming over in Angel Alley. Mrs. Darnell’s place be that way … not far.”

“Thank you.” Zane gave her a tantalizing smile.

It seemed that being a vampire had its advantages, and having a way with people was one of those advantages.

“You get to needing some love … find your way back to me!” She called as we were walking away.

The woman was repulsive, but yet I was strangely drawn to her. I didn’t know if it was just curiosity or if I pitied her. Women had such a rough life in the Victorian age. Hell, they had a rough life in most any time period.

It started to snow before we reached Angel Alley. Although I was wearing a sweater, it would no way keep me warm in a snowstorm.

At first it was a light snowfall, but within a short time the white stuff was really coming down.

“We’re going to get frostbite before we get there,” I complained.

“You maybe. I’m immune.”

“Thanks for all your concern.” I was in a sour mood and wasn’t holding back.

“Relax. We’re almost there.”

I opened my mouth to do some more complaining but then I saw the street sign for Angel Alley.

“Thank God!”

And then I figured I might have been thankful a little too soon. There appeared to be several structures that could be rooming houses.

Which one belonged to Mrs. Darnell?

Instead of wasting time on a guessing game, I stopped some guy to ask for directions.

“Excuse me, sir … could you tell me where Mrs. Darnell’s rooming house is?”

When he smiled I saw that he was missing as many teeth as the prostitute. I was suddenly thankful for my dentist back in Storm Cove.

That’s when I promised myself that if I made it back to my own time, I’d never call Doctor Hansen Mr. Waddles again.

I called him Mr. Waddles on account of his bottom half was so chunky, and he reminded me of a duck when he walked.

“Margaret’s place be there.” The man pointed to a rickety old building with peeling paint.

“Thank you.”

We found Mrs. Darnell’s place and went right in. The first person we came to was a woman who appeared as if she were a reformed lady of the night. I suspected that was due to the fact that she was far beyond the age she could make a living selling herself on the streets.

“Are you Mrs. Darnell?”

“That be me.” She nodded.

“I’m looking for Stella. Which room is she in?”

“Upstairs.” She pointed a bent finger to a very narrow staircase. “Stella’s room is the third door to the right.”

Already on my way up the stairs, I tossed a thank you over my shoulder.

Zane was on my heels. “Are you sure this is going to be your grandmother?”

“Yes.” I could barely keep my excitement from bubbling over. It had been way too long since I’d seen Granny.

As soon as we got to the door, I knocked several times. “Granny! It’s me … Izzy!”

When my knocks were met with silence, I knocked again. “Granny!”

Still there was no sound of someone rushing to the door to open it, as I’d hoped.

Zane tried the knob. “It’s locked.”

I was going to tell him to break in, but I was too late. Zane jerked the knob and the mechanism inside snapped.

Although I wasn’t so sure how good a broken lock was going to be for Granny, it did get us in the room.

It was small but clean. The tiny bed was neatly made with an open book lying face down on a puffy pillow. The patchwork quilt looked like something Granny had made. There was a little stand with a washbasin, and an old trunk sat in the corner of the room. That was the extent of the furnishings.

Stepping to the bed, I examined the book. I wasn’t surprised to see it was a Dickens novel,
A Christmas Carol
. Just the book Granny would be reading in December.

“Now what?” Zane asked.

“We wait. Hopefully, she won’t be long.”

“Where do you think she is?” he asked. “I mean it isn’t like she would have just made a run down to the market.”

He had a point, but wherever she was, I couldn’t imagine my Granny being out too late, even back home, let alone in a place like nineteenth-century Whitechapel.

Exhausted, we both collapsed on the bed. Before I knew it I was dozing off.

The next thing I became aware of was sunshine streaming in the small window. Blinking against the glare, bits and pieces of the night before returned.

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I looked around for Zane. He was awake and sitting with his back propped against the dingy gray wall,

“Where’s Granny?” I asked, rubbing my sleep-swollen eyes.

“I have no idea. She never returned.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You needed the sleep. I thought we could start fresh this morning,” he explained.

He was right. I’d needed sleep, but I couldn’t help but feel we’d already wasted too much time.

I was ready to tell him as much when I heard someone at the door.

Zane heard it the same time I did. He put a finger to his lips to keep me quiet.

A moment later the door swung open and Granny walked in. She was wearing a long, colorless gray skirt in a style that I’d seen on hundreds of women since crossing the time barrier.

She was completely silent, as a variety of emotions played across her face. First I saw fear, and then shock, but all that was quickly washed away as pure joy took hold of her.

“Izzy! Pumpkin Pie! I can’t believe you made it.”

“Pumpkin Pie?” Zane echoed Granny.

I threw him a look of warning.

Granny glanced over at Zane. “And look here … you even brought a vampire with you.”

She was still smiling, but there was clear disapproval in her eyes.

“I thought it would be best if I brought along someone familiar with this time period,” I explained.

“I see … well regardless, I am so happy to see you. How is everyone back home doing? What about your sister and Aaron? Oh, and Dutch and Dilley?”

I wasn’t exactly prepared to answer questions about back home. I didn’t really want to lie to my Granny, but I also knew that it wasn’t a good time. Instead of fibbing, I did the next best thing by sidestepping her questions.

“We waited all night for you. What kept you out?”

The joy I’d seen in her eyes quickly faded. “Things are not right here. I believe there is a witch … and she is cursing people with the moon sickness.”

That wasn’t good.

Those cursed with moon madness, as it was known in modern times, would go berserk during a full moon. There hadn’t been a case of moon madness on Mystique Island for decades, but I knew it wasn’t uncommon during the nineteenth century.

“It will be a full moon tonight. I’ve been busy diagnosing people and administering cures.”

Poor Granny did look exhausted.

“Do you have any idea who the witch is?” I asked.

Nodding, Granny scowled. “I believe Lady Hastings is the witch. There are rumors that she is… and that she is the one opening the portal to send people to Mystique Island.”

Zane drew his brows together. “Why would a witch in 1883 send people to Mystique Island during the twenty-first century?”

Granny lifted her bent shoulders. “I haven’t been able to figure that one out yet. Word is, Lady Hastings will send you to any point in time … for a price, but that price is different if you choose to go to Mystique Island. For those who go to Mystique Island, the price is information, but she doesn’t inform the traveler what information she wants until she sends them.”

“Looks like things just got a whole lot more complicated,” I sighed.

Zane shook his head. “That’s not our problem. We are here to get your grandmother and get back.”

“We have to figure out what this witch is up to, and who she has sent over to our island. It wasn’t that long ago we were dealing with Jack the Ripper,” I reminded him.

Zane leaned one shoulder against the wall. “Okay then … what do you suggest?”

“Why don’t we just come right out and ask the evil bitch what she’s up to?”

The frown on Granny’s face deepened. “Not a good idea. From what I’ve heard she is very powerful … and nasty. If it were that easy don’t you think I would have already done it?”

“Then what are you thinking?” I asked.

“I have been planning to infiltrate her household and find out that way … maybe befriend one of her kitchen staff.”

“Can’t do that.” I shook my head. “We have less than three days to get back to our own time … or we’ll all be stuck here. Like I said … we’ll ask her.”