Blood of Providence

They walked back to their vehicles in companionable silence, each thinking their own thoughts. As Shiobhan opened the door to Taz’s car, Robert said, “I think I’ll cruise around town for a bit and see if I can pick up traces of her scent. Maybe I’ll be able to hunt her down that way.”

“I appreciate it,” Shiobhan said.

“It’s better than sitting around doing nothing. You know me, I get restless… have to stretch my legs and run sometimes.” Patting his bike, he said, “It’s not as good as a true run, but she’s almost as fast as four legs and doesn’t tire quite as soon.” Read the rest of this entry »

Glenn groaned as he came back to consciousness, his head throbbing like someone was tightening it in a vise that only pressed at his temples. “Mr. Chase? Can you hear me?” he heard a nurse ask.

Opening his eyes was a mistake, he quickly realized, as the light stabbed painfully through his blurry vision. “Yeah.” Running through the mental checklist, he thought, Light sensitivity, check. Dizziness, check. Nausea, check. Massive head pain, check, check, check. Another check for good measure, while I’m at it. Shoulders starting to tighten up and feel like rocks? Migraine, check. Read the rest of this entry »

Flipping through a stack of maps, Shiobhan selected one covering Providence and nearby towns, then laid it out on the table. She picked up four carved stones, engraved with silvery runes for the directions, and placed them on the map. Reaching underneath her blouse, she pulled out a crystal pendant on a golden chain, and set it on top of the photograph.

Walking to the door, she turned off the overhead lights and opened the windows slightly, letting in a cool breeze. Returning to the table, she opened a drawer set in the base and brought forth her athame. Taking a deep breath, she grounded herself, visualizing herself as a tree sending roots down deep into the earth. Centering herself on that image, she walked along the inside border of the circle set into the hardwood floor, white flame answering the call of her athame as she closed the circle. Read the rest of this entry »

As Shiobhan entered the shop, she saw a sullen-looking Robert sitting at one of the tables, Kelly pointing a finger at his face. “Do you hear me?” she asked, steel in her voice. Shiobhan flashed a grin at Taz, who was just watching the scene with amusement.

“Loud and clear, just like the first time,” Robert grumbled.

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After Shiobhan regained her composure, she gathered her pocketbook and light coat– Autumn in Providence was often chilly, especially in the morning– and headed out to the front of the store. “Ok, I need to step out for a bit. If you guys could cover for me, I’d appreciate it.”

“Not a problem, boss lady,” Taz said.

“Everything ok?” Kelly asked.

“Yeah,” Shiobhan said. “Apparently my sister is living here in Providence, going to Brown, and neither my father nor her decided to let me know about it. And Dad wants me to check in on her after he had a possibly prophetic dream. It really is a Monday morning, isn’t it?” She shook her head in amusement, a smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s see what else can go wrong, shall we? At least it’s not Friday the 13th.”

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Sunlight streamed through the window, causing Glen to blink his eyes several times as he awoke. A blonde nurse was looking over his chart at the bottom of his bed and flashed him a smile as she noticed him awaken. “Good morning, Mr. Chase. How are you feeling?”

He mentally took inventory of various aches and pains through his body– including his throbbing head– and grimaced. “Not great, but pretty good considering where I am.”

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“Your father?” Kelly finally asked. “I know you don’t talk much about your family, but…”

“Yeah.” Shiobhan sighed and unconsciously twisted a curl of hair around one finger. “This shop has been in my family for generations, on my mother’s side. It’s a longstanding tradition that it’s passed from mother to daughter. In my case, that happened a bit earlier than usual when my mother died.”

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She walked the halls of the hospital, her left hand fingering the vial in her pocket absentmindedly. Riding the elevator up two floors, she made no conversation with the nurses beside her, but made her way to the room she had been told about. Room 315, Glen Chase. Knocking on the door and getting no response, she looked around to make sure no one was watching, and let herself into the room. Closing the door softly behind her, she took a deep breath and centered, imagining herself as an oak tree, her roots stretching down deep into the ground.

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