Back in February, I wrote a post about the evolution of a story. That particular story happens to be Witchstorm Rising. There is a “snippet” near the end of the post that is from an earlier version of the below scene. I still have some of the same questions and concerns about the chapter. It’s different from how I usually start a book, especially one in this series. So there’s a very real possibility that, after the current round with the beta readers, the chapter will be deleted or shortened or simply worked into the novel in other areas. But, for now, it sets the scene for what’s to happen. BTW, this is not the entire chapter. It’s too long for a single post. Also, all the usual disclaimers and protections apply. (I hate saying that, but there are some folks out there who think anything they see on the internet belongs to them.) With that out of the way, here’s the opening of Witchstorm Rising, the next installment in the Eerie Side of the Tracks series.
Judith
“Thank you, Emily.”
Judith Donnelly accepted the cup of coffee Emily Lowe handed her and leaned back. She sat at one end of the comfortable sofa beneath the window. She loved this room, filled with books and comfortable furniture. Over the years, it became her favorite place to sit and talk. That was especially true recently. In the three months since Serena’s heart attack, it became their sanctuary, the one place they could escape the reality of their world. But now that reality was once again intruding, shattering the peace they’d fought so hard for.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” Emily asked.
Serena Duchamp smiled at the woman who was more friend than housekeeper. Affection lit her hazel eyes. Those eyes might not be as bright as they’d once been and her hair was white now instead of the brunette of her youth. But her mind was as sharp as ever and her independent streak just as wide. Which is why Judith hid her smile behind her cup as she watched Serena rein in her frustration because she felt Emily was hovering.
“We’re fine, Emily. Thank you.”
Instead of leaving, Emily simply looked at Serena where she sat at the opposite end of the sofa from Judith, her head cocked to one side. Serena returned her look, her expression letting both women know her patience wasn’t unlimited. Emily simply shook her head, not the least bit intimidated.
“Miss Serena, I’ve known you too many years for that to work.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words. “I probably know you better than you know yourself.”
Judith chuckled and waved off Serena’s immediate instinct to deny the truth of what Emily said. “She’s right, Serena, and you know it.”
The older woman sighed. Then she had the good grace to nod.
“So I know you didn’t sleep well last night,” Emily continued. “I know you’re worried. It’s fairly written all over you. You have to promise you won’t overdo today. I’ll not be explaining to Miss Amy why you’re doing poorly when she comes home tonight.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her, Emily. Promise.”
Emily glanced at Judith, her expression speaking volumes. She didn’t need to tell Judith that she was worried. They all were. Serena had pushed herself since leaving the hospital. She’d ignored her doctors and the rest of them, telling them she’d rest when she knew everyone she cared for was safe. Until then, they couldn’t afford to let their guards down.
Unfortunately, nothing the rest of them said got through to her.
Emily nodded once, even as her eyes narrowed. Judith fought the urge to giggle when Serena rolled her eyes in response. Sometimes, the two of them reminded her of her own daughters as teenagers: all attitude combined with the conviction they knew more than everyone else around them. In this case, Serena probably did. But she wouldn’t do any of them any good if she worked herself back into the hospital—or worse.
“You let me know if either of you need anything, Miss Judith. I’ll be upstairs.”
Judith thanked her again and watched as she left the library, closing the doors behind her.
Serena leaned back with a sigh.
“I should apologize to her.” She spoke softly, almost ruefully.
Judith nodded. “She’s worried about you, Serena. We all are.”
“I know. But I get tired of everyone hovering.” She sipped her coffee and then placed her cup and saucer on the low table in front of the sofa.
“You’ll have to get use to it, Serena. You scared us. We came too close to losing you.” The memory of what happened sent a shiver of fear down her spine.
Serena leaned over and grasped her hand. “But you didn’t.” She smiled in reassurance before her expression turned serious. “She wasn’t wrong, though. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“And?”
“If I’m honest, I haven’t slept well for the past week.”
Worried, Judith turned her hand over, letting their fingers twine. That hint of worry she’d felt since arriving took root. She couldn’t ignore the dark smudges under her friend’s eyes. Nor could she ignore the weight she’d lost since her heart attack. What she really couldn’t ignore was the fact that she, too, had been sleeping badly for the last week or so.
“I take it you’re having the same problem.” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement.
Judith nodded.
She’d taken special pains with her makeup that morning, hoping Serena wouldn’t notice her own dark shadows. Little chance of that, she realized. In all the years, they’d known one another, Serena Duchamp rarely missed any detail, no matter how small or insignificant it might seem.
“How’s Ali?”
Judith blinked, surprised at the abrupt change of subject. Then she smiled slightly. Her eight-year-old granddaughter was her pride and joy. Serena felt the same way, even though they shared no blood relation. Those two loved one another like family, just as she and Serena did. They were family by choice and, Judith suspected, Serena saw a lot of herself in the girl. Gods above and below knew Ali would one day be as powerful an Other as Serena. Even now, she possessed more arcane abilities than almost everyone else in town.
And that was saying a lot.
“She’s fine.” She chuckled softly as she remembered something from the previous weekend. “She might worry my youngest and her husband into an early grave.”
Serena arched one perfectly shaped brow in question before leaning forward and collecting her cup and saucer.
“Annie and Sam had us over for a barbecue so the kids could finish working on their science fair project. After dinner, we were sitting on the back deck. Ali and Robbie were playing in the treehouse. Suddenly, Quinn jumped up and ran toward the tree, yelling for Sam to call 9-1-1. That’s when we saw smoke billowing out of the treehouse. Quinn was halfway up before the kids appeared on the walkway that runs around the ‘house’. They looked so damned proud of themselves, standing there, holding fire sprites in their hands, watching them dance in the wind. Let’s just say that her temper wasn’t helped one bit by Robbie’s joy at being able to hold fire in his hands or by the way Lucas laughed at her.”
“How did Annie and Sam react?”
“They looked like they didn’t know whether to climb up the tree after Quinn so they could take Robbie to ER or congratulate him. Ali simply said she was showing Robbie her new trick.”
Because she could imagine the scene, Serena chuckled softly. “That child is paying her mother back for all the problems she caused you growing up.” Her eyes twinkled with affection for Quinn as well as for Ali.
“You have no idea.” Judith smiled again as she remembered the outrage on her youngest daughter’s face as the kids grinned and laughed as they played with the fire sprites Ali created. The fact she had enough control to create them and keep the one she gave Robbie from burning him spoke of just how strong her abilities would be as they developed. “Let’s just say Quinn had a long talk with her and then with Lucas who didn’t help matters by laughing.”
“Nor did her hormones either.” Serena’s expression softened at the thought of Quinn being pregnant again. She and Judith both knew this time Quinn wouldn’t live in fear of something happening to the baby. She’d lost one child when her first husband beat her so badly she not only wound up in the hospital but miscarried the baby. That was one nightmare none of them had to worry about any longer. He was dead and not in the least bit lamented, least of all by Quinn and Ali.
“No, they didn’t.”
Serena looked at her in question.
“Let’s just say my youngest almost showed her daughter what happens when you lose control of your abilities. Fortunately, she caught herself before she did more than call a few flames to her hands.”
“And then she spent the rest of the evening upset with herself, no doubt.”
“Not quite, but only because the kids were so worried they’d really upset her. Ali barely left her side after that and Robbie kept asking if he could get her something. It really was cute.”
“And,” Miss Serena said knowingly. “I have no doubt it drove her crazy.”
Judith nodded. Her youngest wasn’t known for her patience or for her ability to sit back and let people do things for her that she felt she was perfectly able to do for herself. Judith felt sorry for Lucas as Quinn’s pregnancy progressed, his natural inclination would be to pamper her, making sure she stayed safe and healthy. He’d probably already spoken with everyone at the sheriff’s department, telling them Quinn wasn’t to be called in until after the baby was born. It didn’t matter that her doctor had yet to limit her activities. Nor did it matter that she was not only a reserve deputy but also the chief investigator for the DA’s Office. This would be his first child and he wasn’t going to risk either the wife he adored or their baby.
“And the others?”
“Everyone’s fine. You know that.” She smiled gently when Serena dipped her chin in acknowledgment. Judith wasn’t the only one who made a regular habit of stopping by the farm to check on her. “Now, why haven’t you been sleeping well?”
Serena leaned forward, once again placing cup and saucer on the table. Then she straightened and turned to look at her friend. She’d known Judith all the younger woman’s life. The twenty-odd years difference in their ages didn’t matter. They hadn’t in a very long time. They’d gone from teacher/student to mentor/mentee to friends. They were as close to family as one could be without actually being related.
“Probably for the same reason you haven’t been,” she answered.
“You’ve felt it too then?”
Serena nodded, her expression serious. “If you mean the sense of danger drawing nearer, I have.”
Before Judith said anything, Serena narrowed her eyes, her expression growing even more serious. “That’s why everyone seems to be here more than usual.” It wasn’t an accusation, but it came close.
“It is.” Judith didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “Serena, you have to understand how worried we’ve been. We almost lost you.” Emotion tightened her throat and she cleared it before continuing. “We’re not going to forget that any time soon.”
Serena opened her mouth to say something and then shut it. A moment later, she blew out a long breath and reached over, gently resting her palm against Judith’s left cheek. Affection and something else reflected in her eyes as she did. Judith waited, her hand reaching up to close over the older woman’s.
“Judith.” She smiled and a lifetime of affection reflected in her eyes. “I’m recovered. You know that. You’ve been to almost every doctor’s appointment with me. You’ve listened as he’s gone over all the test results with me.”
“And I’ve listened as he’s told you that you still need to rest and not overdo.”
“Judith.” A hint of censure crept into her voice.
“No, Serena, you need to listen to me. Please.” She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage. She could do this. She needed to do this. “I meant it when I said we almost lost you. You know how close it was. If Jax hadn’t been here and hadn’t pulled from both ley lines, we would have lost you. It was still touch and go for days after that as the doctors, Amy, Pat and I did everything we could to heal you.”
“Judith—”
“For once, you need to listen to me, my friend.” Judith gripped the hand resting against her cheek and took it between both of hers. “We love you. We need you. Not because of the danger we both know is coming but because you are family. You are our friend, our mother, grandmother, sister, cousin, best friend. You are teacher and mentor. You are the heart of this town. So if we are a bit overprotective, you’ll just have to understand and accept it. The last thing any of us wants is to risk losing you.”
“What you’re saying is I need to accept that it’s going to take time for each of you to stop hovering.”
At least she smiled as she said it.
“Yes.” Judith smiled. “Look at it this way: we aren’t as bad about it as we were when you first came home.”
Serena laughed softly. Wasn’t that the honest truth? She hadn’t had a moment alone for the first two weeks after her release from the hospital. By the end of the first week, she felt smothered. It took throwing an old-fashioned fit for her friends, her family, to agree she didn’t need someone watching over her every waking moment.
“Before we discuss what’s bothering both of us, finish telling me about Ali.” Serena leaned back, looking more relaxed than Judith knew her to be.
“She’s running Jax and me ragged.” And then some. “And she’s asking when she can start working with you more than once a week again.”
A soft smile touched Serena’s lips. “Bring her by tomorrow after school. I think I miss working with her more than she misses working with me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. Besides, I know you, my friend. You’ll be here making sure I don’t overdo.”
“I will and thank you.”
Serena’s brows pulled down in a frown and she looked at Judith in concern. “What is it?”
“She’s so strong, Serena. It’s scary. More than that, she’s intuitive where her gifts are concerned. None of us taught her how to call a fire sprite, much less how to control it to the extent that Robbie could hold one without getting so much as a mild burn. It’s hard sometimes to remember that she’s only eight. She’s a child with a child’s sensibilities, something I remembered the other night. We were all lucky nothing serious happened and no one was hurt.”
“And you’ve been watching her, making sure she doesn’t do anything that could backfire on her.”
Judith nodded. They both knew what could happen if Ali lost control of her talents. It was a lesson they learned all too well when Quinn and her friends were growing up. She still had nightmares about it from time to time. Every time she woke in a cold sweat from that nightmare, she prayed for there to never be another repeat.
“We’ll make sure nothing happens,” Serena said.
Unlike last time.
This is not the final version. There may be spelling, punctuation and/or grammar errors that will be corrected before publication. Look for the next snippet on Wednesday.
The image was created using Gemini.