Crimson Moon Hideaway - Julia Mills
Chapter One
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. Why am I doing this? I’m not even sure I should be doing this. Arrrgghhh.”
“You’ll be fine,” her sister laughed. “And growling is not gonna help.”
"I don't know about all this, and growling might help," Ellie added for the tiniest bit of humor as she stepped back from the mirror. "First of all, I've never gone anywhere outside of our little town for more than a night, two at the most. This is…"
"This is the chance you've been waiting for," Celia, her older, very pregnant, and incredibly persistent sibling, reassured. Patting Ellie on the shoulder, adding a little push of a confidence enchantment the older MacLeish was prone to use, she added, "You need to get out there. See the world. Practice standing on your own two feet. You'll be twenty-nine next week, and you know…"
“Yes,” Ellie sighed, running her fingers through long, red hair. “I am well aware of what happens at the stroke of midnight on my twenty-ninth year.” Letting her head fall forward, her chin to her chest, she huffed the bangs off her forehead, “At least Cinderella got to go to a damned ball before her coach turned back into a punkin, the attendants went back to being mice, and she lost her blasted shoe.”
“You get to go to an amazing resort and get to come home with all your shoes. What could be better than that?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, and with Angelica watching over my shoulder to be sure I don’t blow something up or lose my ever-lovin’ mind.”
“Ha!” Celia barked with laughter. “Ang will be leading the charge into whatever mischief can be found. For as long as I’ve known her, that Witch has always been right at the center of the action.”
"So, then, I should just stay here." Lifting her head, suddenly filled with the hope that she wouldn't have to leave the safety and security of their little ranch in the middle of the Texas Desert, Ellie spun on her toes. "I mean, come on. Can you really trust Angelica Fairway to make sure that everything turns out okay? That I don’t go crazy and try to kill myself or somebody else?” Laying her hand on her sister’s arms, she winked. “And I can help you finish the nursery. Heaven only knows when that man of yours will get back.”
Arching a single eyebrow, her mouth turning downward in an way-too-big-sisterly frown, Celia slowly shook her head. "No way. You are going, and that's all there is to it. Barbara MacAllen will be checking on me two or three times a day. She's already started baking and cooking, freezing my favorites, so I don't have to step foot in the kitchen except to pop something into the microwave. And those big, ole boys of hers, the ones without a Mate yet, are more than capable of painting the nursery and putting the last coat of varnish on momma's old rocking chair."
At the mention of her mother, Ellie's heart clenched and her breath hitched. It had been three years since both her parents were found dead in the middle of the desert. No signs of a struggle. Not a mark on either one of them. Not even a whiff of magic – good or bad – to be found. They were just dead. Or, as the coroner's report stated, 'Ceased to be alive.'
Stupid, fucking way to say somebody passed away if you ask me…
The police – both human and paranormal - had investigated for thirteen excruciating months. The best detectives the Witch’s Council had, were still on the case. But no one was any closer to finding out what had happened or who had committed such a heinous crime.
The only clue that turned up, and it was almost blown away with the winds of a tornado after being missed by the initial crime scene people, was the print of the back half of a boot heel, deep in the sand to the left of her father's head. It seemed too easy like it had been planted. Somebody murdered two highly-skilled, extremely powerful Witches without leaving so much as a scratch on either one of them, then inadvertently forgot to kick away their footprints.
At first, Ellie was sure the investigators were following ghosts. She even told the Grand Priest of the Council that everyone was wasting their time, but then she saw the cast of the print setting on the Sherriff's desk.
There it was. Plain as day. The three heads