Table of Contents
Cover
Table of Contents
Acclaim for Ally Shields
Look for these titles from Ally Shields
Title Page
Copyright Warning
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
About the Author
Also by Ally Shields
More Fantasy from Etopia Press
~ Acclaim for Ally Shields ~
For Ghost Walking
“Mystery, thriller, suspense, paranormal, and romance blended so well it cooked up a fabulous read!” 5 stars Cherullynn Writes Blog Review
“Maggie is a very strong, self-sufficient woman who sometimes leaps before she thinks.” 4 stars Paranormal Romance Guild
“A little love, a lot of action. Ally Shield’s book Ghost Walking reminded me of Grave Sight by Charlaine Harris.” 4.5 stars Apocalipstick the Book Blog
For Cross Keys
“If you like action, romance, elves, and magic you will like this story.” Paranormal Romance Guild
“...[Y]ou won’t want to stop reading. Shields has created the perfect blend between our realm of the world and the one known as Elvenrude. Her writing is flawless. Her character building is near perfect. She creates a blend between the characters and their scenes that make it near impossible not to believe. I am highly impressed with this book and author.” CDyess Writes
“There’s more than enough intrigue and danger, with just the right amount of romance sprinkled in. This is a novel I seriously read in one sitting, it was that good. I am eagerly anticipating the next books in the series, as they are fantastic!” Night Owl Reviews
“A great storyline and adventure. You will love this book.” 5 stars The Book Junkie
For Cross Keys: Revelation
“This was a well-written, fast-paced story that has all the elements of love, romance, family, and loyalty to them and friendship, danger, and self discovery. A wonderful story that keeps you intrigued to the end.” Books Are Love
“Everything flows so well, and the plotline and twists kept me turning the pages! I love how nothing comes easy for any character. They all have real life struggles and after that ending, I'm seriously wanting book three! Gimme!” 5 MAGICAL PAWS! Happy Tails and Tales
About Guardian Witch series:
“Vampires, werewolves, and witches oh my! In a journey through a magical world...a witch named Arianna will have you lost under her spell.” I Heart Books
“Ally had me hooked from the very beginning and, just when I thought things couldn’t get any more intense, she kicked it up a notch! It was one hell of a journey and I loved every moment of it.” Mean Who You Are Blog
“I said it before and I will say it again, I love this series... As with all the other books in the series, this book has romance, lies, deceit, secrets, and some very interesting surprises. If you love a good paranormal series, one that leaves you satisfied after each book, then don't miss this one.” Paranormal Romance Guild
Look for these titles from Ally Shields
Now Available
Maggie York Paranormal Mysteries
Ghost Walking (Book 1)
Ghost Witching (Book 2)
The Guardian Witch Series
Awakening the Fire (Book 1)
Fire Within (Book 2)
Burning Both Ends (Book 3)
Blood and Fire (Book 4)
Fire Storm (Book 5)
Wild Fire (Book 6)
Eternal Fires (Book 7)
“Heart’s Pride” Valentines Heat I
Elvenrude Novels
Cross Keys (Book One)
Cross Keys: Revelations (Book Two)
Cross Keys: Unity (Book Three)
Ghost Witching
A Maggie York Paranormal Mystery Book Two
Ally Shields
Etopia Press
Copyright Warning
EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published By
Etopia Press
1643 Warwick Ave., #124
Warwick, RI 02889
http://www.etopiapress.com
Ghost Witching
Copyright © 2016 by Ally Shields
ISBN: 978-1-944138-61-5
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Etopia Press electronic publication: October 2016
~ Acknowledgements ~
As always, this book owes its publishing existence to my indispensable critique partner Kath Boyd Marsh, the support and dedicated staff of my publisher Etopia Press, editor Shelly Scafani, and to family, friends, and readers who continue to follow my characters down varied and fantastical paths. Thank you all.
Disclaimer: Ghost Witching is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real characters, organizations, and events is unintended. Certain liberties have been taken with police department procedures and buildings in the New Orleans area. To my knowledge, there is no District 13, and readers must decide for themselves if there are ghosts.
CHAPTER ONE
Maggie sat cross-legged in the witches’ circle, listening to the night sounds of the Louisiana swamp giving way to a hazy dawn. The sluggish air failed to stir the moss-hung cypress trees, and humidity clung to her skin. It would be another scorcher.
Her candle flickered, and she turned it to allow more of the wax to trickle down the side. How had her life evolved to include this? A year ago the hard-nosed cop in her would have scoffed at the idea covens actually existed. Now she was part of one. Not that she’d bought the whole occult package, but her denials rang hollow in the face of collaborating with a ghost to track down a killer. Nor could she explain away the knowledge her distant relatives, Dalia and Selena, gleaned from the Beyond.
Dalia’s hard stare brought Maggie’s attention back to the circle of thirteen. Spooky how the quiet, unpretentious woman knew things…like Maggie’s wandering thoughts. She raised her candle in unison with the others as Selena spoke the words approaching the end of the blessing ceremony.
In contrast to Dalia’s petite form, Selena was larger than life, literally and figuratively. The priestess raised her arms, her long, ash
en hair braid falling over her shoulder, the white muumuu fluttering in the morning air like a giant bird about to ascend. Her voice matched her size, echoing around the clearing, bringing Maggie and the other participants to their feet.
Although Maggie wasn’t positive the white witch rite actually did anything, attendance at coven ceremonies had been one of Selena’s requirements for teaching her how to assert greater control over the ghostly apparitions who were bound to make more appearances in Maggie’s future. The old woman had been particularly insistent tonight, piquing Maggie’s curiosity. And a little apprehension. Had Selena had another of her visions, possibly foretelling trouble in the near future? When asked, her cousin had given a typically cryptic answer. “Good and evil are always in motion.”
Which told her nothing new. Maggie sighed, darting a glance at the focused women around her. No matter. The future wouldn’t be changed by worrying. Besides, she had no real objection to being here and supporting the coven’s hopes of healing one member’s gravely ill four-year-old niece, for a laid-off worker to find a new job, and a universal plea for greater wisdom. They could all use a dose of that.
Calling upon the Goddess to bless and protect them, Selena made a three-sixty turn, her gown billowing. Maggie suddenly stiffened and peered behind her cousin. Had something dark and wispy swooped past? No, of course not. The lifting dawn mist had fired her overactive imagination.
Yet her heart beat a bit faster, and she joined in the final lines of the closing chant with more gravity than usual.
“In calm or stormy days to come, light our pathways safely home.
Gracious Goddess, grant our plea. So mote it be.”
Maggie was tempted to add an “Amen” for good measure.
As they blew out their candles, her cell phone buzzed. She checked the screen. Police dispatch. Her real world snapped back into place. While they’d been surrounded by the hope inherent in these pre-dawn gatherings, someone else had committed the most grievous assault upon society…the murder of one of its citizens.
* * *
Stopping abruptly on the front door threshold, Maggie swept her gaze across the living room of the Garden District Victorian home, taking in the body of the matronly female victim and the carcass of the presumed killer sprawled on the polished floor. She drew in a shallow breath and placed one hand on the door frame, letting the eerie feel of the scene roll over her. It happened every time. She used to wonder why—before she knew her family origins. Now she just accepted it.
Her partner, New Orleans homicide detective Joshua Brandt and currently estranged lover, moved past her, no doubt welcoming the coolness of the air-conditioning. Unhampered by the strange sensations she experienced, he squatted next to the body.
Maggie closed the door, leaving the humid August heat outside, and circled to the far side of the victim. She noted, discarded, or filed away each detail, searching for the ones that would eventually lead them to a human predator.
Interesting scene, to say the least. Two sets of reddened punctures, one on the victim’s neck, the other on the left cheek. But no blood, only a faint odor of death thanks to the hard-working AC. Pleasant features—or would have been if the eyes weren’t wide open and fixed in a vacant stare—a few extra pounds but not excessive, hints of gray at the temples and roots of her short brunette hair. She’d been due for a touchup. A modern grandmother in faded jeans and a white shirt hanging open over a pale blue tank top.
“Valerie Preston, age sixty-one,” said the older of the two patrol cops who’d found her. He checked his palm-sized notebook. “Lived alone. Widow of real estate businessman, Clive Preston, who’s been dead five years or more. Neighbor last saw her yesterday afternoon about five bringing home groceries.” He put his notes in his shirt pocket. “Looks like the snake killed her.”
“Maybe.” Josh learned forward to inspect the bite marks, and a shock of dark hair fell over his forehead. Maggie’s attention drifted to his strong profile, the sculpted cheekbones, the full black lashes. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and she imagined the dark bristles scraping softly across her skin. Whoa, girl. Another example of why they needed to step back from their relationship. They’d grown too close, too intense, placing their on-the-job partnership at risk.
A week ago, Josh had played the alpha male, stepping into a situation she could have handled, and it had nearly gotten him killed. They’d argued for days, and yesterday—after living with him the past four months—she’d moved back to her own apartment. Ostensibly to think it over, reassess. But Maggie wasn’t sure what would happen to them next. In spite of their casual, matter-of-fact conversation since he’d picked her up at her apartment a half hour ago, raw tension simmered under the surface.
The tightening of Josh’s jaw muscle, as it did when he held back strong emotion, sharpened her focus back to the scene…where it belonged. He looked up at the two patrolmen. “Hard way to die. Who shot the snake?”
“I did.” The younger cop stepped forward, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. “It was curled around her forearm and wouldn’t let us get close enough to determine if she was alive or not. I had to shoot it. But she was already gone.”
“The CS techs will need to know that.” Brandt poked his pencil at the remains of the dark tan snake with black crossbands. “Cottonmouth. Not a likely city snake,” he murmured.
“This was a health and welfare check?” Maggie asked the patrolmen.
The older of the cops answered. “That’s right, Detective York. Out-of-town daughter called dispatch when the victim didn’t answer a pre-arranged five a.m. phone call. The daughter was very insistent her mother wouldn’t have missed the call unless something was wrong. Dispatch asked us to check it out, and we spotted the body through the porch window. Oddly enough, the house was locked up tight. Both front and back doors were bolted from the inside, and the patio doors had bolt bars in place. We forced entry.”
“I saw the splintered frame in front,” Maggie said. “Windows locked too? Both floors?”
“Yep, every one of them. We checked while we were waiting for you.”
She tilted her head, strands of red hair brushing against her checks, and crouched across from Josh. She exchanged a doubtful look with him as she slipped on evidence gloves but directed her question to the patrol cop. “So you think this was some kind of weird accident?”
She inspected the back and sides of the victim’s head. No bruises or abrasions. The ME would have to tell them if drugs or a medical problem had incapacitated the victim. Unless she was already lying on the floor, the snake couldn’t have bitten her face and throat without human help.
“I’m not sure what happened.” The seasoned cop shuffled his feet. “There’s a back room you should see.”
Maggie frowned at his odd tone and stood. “Why? What’s there?”
“It’s better if you look for yourself.”
Her frown deepened with impatience, and she strode toward the hallway that led behind the staircase to the upper floor. “I’ll take this, Brandt.” But she heard him get up and follow.
“Take the side hallway on the left,” the patrolman said.
She passed a large entry to the dining room on the right, a music room on the left, and turned into a short hallway. Her arms prickled the instant she entered the short passage, and her steps slowed, one hand dropping to hover near her holster. The house had already been cleared by the responding officers, but something was definitely off. She found a closed door, turned the handle, and pushed it wide open.
Maggie stomach clenched, and she swore softly.
“What’s in there?” Josh appeared at her side. “Oh.”
Dim light flickered from the last bits of wax of two candles, part of a circle of alternating black and white tapers on a wooden table draped in red cloth. The rest had already burned out. In the center, a human skull sat on an open book, surrounded by a fancy dagger, various rocks, crystal stones, beads, and trinkets. A makeshift altar. An upright pentagram po
inting toward the altar—implying white witchcraft rather than satanic worship—was drawn on the hardwood floor with chalk and surrounded by a circle of sprinkled grains of salt.
The remains of a recent ritual. Maggie’s chest tightened. The mixture of black and white candles was unique, even for practices in New Orleans. Clumsy amateurs? Or something else? Was this why Selena had insisted on this morning’s blessing ceremony?
“Our victim wasn’t as ordinary as she looks,” Josh said. “I’d swear that skull is real.”
“You can buy them on the Internet.”
It was Josh’s turn to swear. “Is there anything you can’t? So, what kind of mystical stuff is this? Voodoo, hoodoo?”
“Closer to traditional witchcraft, I think. Nothing’s pure in New Orleans with all the different influences, and this isn't all that strange.” When he cleared his throat, Maggie added, “Not, for this sort of thing.” She flipped the light switch on the wall, but nothing happened. She unclipped her penlight from her belt and shone it upward. A bare space and signs of a patch job indicated a ceiling light fixture had been removed. She pulled back the black curtain at the window, but the glass was covered with a wood panel.
“The lab will need portable lights to process the room,” Josh commented.
Maggie swept the penlight’s glow around the room, checking the dark recesses for movement, signs of a hidden presence. It had been eight months and seventeen days—not that she was counting—since her last significant ghost sighting, but she felt someone here. Not as strong as she’d expect or as…what was the word she wanted? Focused?
She dropped her free hand to her pocket and ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the protection stone she’d carried for nearly a year.