When Witches Wake Read online

  She opened her eyes. “it's an altar!” she said. She sat up straight and eagerly typed into the search bar. “Altar” returned nothing but images of churches. She typed “five pointed star” into the search bar. Pictures of stars filled the page, but none of them looked like the star carved into the table. She added “altar” to the end of the search phrase. And there it was. That was the star she saw. It was a pentagram. A burst of energy flooded through her body. She recognized that image like she had known it all her life. Now she was getting somewhere. She googled “pentagram”.

  A preview of a search result appeared, and Emily read out loud, “A pentagram has magical associations.” She clicked the link and was brought to a Wikipedia page for pentagram. She scrolled down the page, reading the headers impatiently. She didn’t want to waste any time on useless information. She felt like she was finally getting somewhere and was not ready to slow down. The words Modern Occultism jumped out at her. She clicked on a link in the text for Aleister Crowley. A black and white image of a bald, grumpy looking man stared at her from the corner of the screen. Occultist. Ceremonial magician. Magic.

  “Magic,” she whispered. Her stomach growled and Eli looked up at her from her lap. She looked away from the computer screen to see that the sun had set. The living room was dark, and she was starving. She had to eat something. She gently placed Eli on the floor and walked into the kitchen. Finding nothing to eat in her fridge, her stomach growled again. She opened her cupboard and grabbed a pop tart. She poured herself a glass of water and brought what she knew was a sorry excuse for a dinner back to the computer. I’m not sleeping, I may as well eat like garbage too , she thought. Crumbs fell onto the desk, and she chewed as she googled “Occult.” The search bar filled in “stores near me” after occult. She held her breath and pressed enter.

  She was surprised to see such a large number of results. There were at least six occult shops in her immediate area. She clicked on the first result. The website for the store called The Cottage was clunky and dated. It looked as it if hadn’t changed since it was built in the 90’s. She clicked around and found nothing helpful so she went back to the search results page, clicking on the Google page for The Cottage. Five star reviews, some photos of the inside, contact information and the business hours. That is all she needed. She finished her glass of water and decided she was going to visit the store in the morning when they opened. Maybe she would find a book that would be of some help. Or perhaps she would talk someone who would know about this kind of thing. She scribbled the name and address on a post-it note. It wasn’t very far away from her place. Just a mile or two south of her apartment.

  Emily got up and began to get ready for bed. She felt a satisfying calm inside of her gut that she hadn’t felt in some time. A strange kind of relief. She felt like she was starting to get somewhere and had hope that she was going to learn more about these dreams, and maybe put an end to them. She laid in bed and closed her eyes. She fell asleep quickly, excited about putting these dreams to rest.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE MAN MOANED on top of Claire and she stared up at him, emotionless as she rocked back and forth beneath him. She had wanted this. She initiated it even, going to the bar that night looking for a guy to go home with. But once it was happening she found herself with no drive to participate. This is how it usually went, and she couldn’t understand why she kept doing it. She knew what she thought was missing from her life, but she didn’t know how to get it. The easiest and least painful thing to do was to attempt to fulfill her physical needs. She had gotten good at ignoring her emotional ones. Her divorce the year before had been the most painful thing she had ever experienced, and she was too afraid to get close to anyone again. She couldn’t give anyone the chance to lose her trust if she never trusted anyone in the first place. He finished and rolled over next to her, breathing heavily. She didn’t move, and once his face was out of her view she just continued to stare at the ceiling. She wanted to go home.

  Claire climbed off of the bed, walked across the room, and picked up a glass of water. The man laying on the bed watched her closely, admiring her as she took a drink. He put his arms behind his head and smiled. Claire could feel his eyes on her body.

  “Why are you smiling?” she asked him.

  “How did you know I was smiling?” he asked.

  Claire turned around. “A lady never reveals her secrets,” she said. What else could she say? Tell him he just had sex with a witch? That she knew what he was feeling before he even felt it? She couldn’t pick up everyone all the time, but she may as well have had eyes in the back of her head tonight, this guy was so easy to read. She began picking up her clothes from the floor, putting on each item as she went.

  “Are you leaving already?” he asked. “I was hoping you would stay the night.”

  “I have to get up early in the morning,” she lied.

  “I could get up early with you. I’ll make you breakfast,” he said, sitting up.

  Claire looked at his face and wasn’t sure what to say. He was actually upset, although he was trying to hide it. And he was really cute. And she had enjoyed herself that evening. Maybe she could stay this time. She could end it in the morning.

  “You’re sweet, but I really have to go,” she said. She felt the tinge of guilt immediately. But she was getting used to the feeling. A little bit of guilt was a small price to pay for security. Her heart couldn’t be broken if she kept it to herself.

  “Okay, I understand,” he said. He got up and put on a pair of shorts. “Can I call you? I’d like to see you again.”

  “Yeah, that would be fun,” she said, knowing full well she would never speak to this man again. She opened the front door. “Thanks for the drinks, Kyle.”

  “It’s Kevin,” he said.

  “Right. Sorry.” She bit her lip and turned to leave. Under her breath she whispered, “Obliviscatur.”

  “What did you say?” he asked. The door closed behind her. She heard him shift behind the door. She felt his memory of the night fade into fog.

  Claire unlocked her front door, trying to open the door as silently as possible. It groaned to a loud creak and she held her breath, waiting for the silence to take the room back. She closed the door slowly and crept into the kitchen, stepping on all the right spots to avoid any touchy floorboards. The clock ticked in the kitchen. 4:30am. She stared at the room, admiring the stillness. She wondered if she should have another drink, or just go to bed. She was suddenly aware of how silly the thought was, and wondered what kind of person that made her. She sighed as she walked over to the counter, grabbed a glass, and poured herself some whiskey. It burned in her throat, and she closed her eyes and tasted it deeply, feeling it make its way to her stomach.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Claire?” she asked herself out loud. The sound of her voice cracking in the silence set her on edge. She finished the whiskey and slowly made her way to the couch in the living room. She sunk into the couch and felt her muscles finally relax. She pulled one pillow from her feet and put it in between her legs. She grabbed another pillow from behind her back and placed it under her head. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EMILY LAID IN bed, warm under her covers. She heard a noise and opened her eyes to see the light in the bathroom was on, glowing yellow underneath the door. In an instant she noticed she was naked. I went to sleep wearing clothes, she thought. She quickly realized she was dreaming. She relaxed a bit, relieved at the fact that she wasn’t in any danger, and anxious about a new dream. The bathroom light clicked off and the door opened. The room was dark, and all she could make out was the outline of a naked woman. The woman’s blonde hair glowed lightly in the small amount of moonlight that entered the room. Emily tried to think of who this person could be, and couldn’t place her. Her face was unrecognizable in the dark, along with her slim and perfectly curvy silhouette.

  “Hey babe, sorry to wake you,” the woman said.
r />   “Um, it’s okay,” Emily answered.

  The woman crawled into bed, and her cold skin pressed up against Emily’s. “I’m cold,” she whispered. “Can you warm me up?”

  Emily felt her stomach flutter. She was nervous and didn’t know what to say. The woman put her hand on Emily’s face, turning her head towards hers, and kissed her lips. Emily’s stomach dropped, and she stopped breathing for a moment. A small sound escaped her throat, and she lost herself in the kiss. It was slow and deep and more intimate than she had ever felt. As they kissed, Emily heard a thought race through her head. I love you. I love you so much. She wrapped her arms around the woman and caressed her soft skin. She ran her hands up her back and then down to her butt. The woman’s hips pressed hard against Emily and she grabbed her butt firmly, pulling her in tightly and as close as possible. The woman got on top of Emily, straddling her as she moved her hand from Emily’s face to her breast. She squeezed it gently as she kissed Emily’s neck and moved down to her nipple. Her tongue danced over Emily’s pink skin, and Emily felt her nipple harden in the woman’s mouth. Her heart was beating out of her chest, and she couldn’t help but thrust her hips up into the woman, feeling her getting warmer. She pulled the woman’s face back up to hers and they kissed. Emily’s hand moved around the woman’s body and she felt her hand slip inside her. The woman moaned with pleasure, and Emily felt her stomach flutter again. The woman slid her hand inside of Emily, and they moved together as one. Thrusting into each other and pressing even deeper inside the other. Suddenly Emily felt warm waves rising inside of her, building up from her legs. They rose higher until her entire body tensed. She felt the woman tense on top of her and they moaned quietly in unison. Emily lost control of her voice. She cried out louder and saw a burst of light inside her eyelids as she screamed and writhed. The woman screamed with her, and they trembled in each other’s arms. Emily’s ears rang and she couldn’t hear anything. She felt a ripple of pleasure pass over her body as the woman’s heart raced on her chest. They were entangled together, breathing heavily.

  The woman on top of her whispered, “I love you, Emily Quinn.”

  Emily opened her eyes, alone in bed. Her body was warm and sticky with sweat, and her heart pounded loudly in her chest. Limbs weak, she let out a deep breath and looked at her bathroom door, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light. The door was open and the light was off.

  “Oh my God,” she said. “What was that? Who was that?” She stared up at the ceiling and felt her heartbeat return to a normal rhythm. This was a brand new dream. She needed to write it down. She turned on her bedside lamp and scribbled down her memory as quickly as possible. She tried to remember the details of the woman, but beyond her hair color and her figure, she was unsure of how to capture the aspects that stuck with her the most. The way she smelled. The sound of her voice, soft and loving. A British accent. Emily didn’t know how to capture that in writing, and she wanted to hold onto it somehow. She looked at the words she wrote and they looked empty. Out of all of her crazy dreams so far, she had never experienced one like this. She suddenly missed this person. This woman she didn’t know. Her smell, and her voice, and her body up against her own. She missed the feeling in her gut. The heat and the flutter and the utterly unconditional love. She needed more. She needed to find this stranger.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SUNLIGHT CREPT INTO the living room. It shined through the blinds, creating lines on the wooden floor and slowly inching closer and closer to Claire who was sleeping peacefully on the couch. The house was beginning to fill up with sound. Running water, dishes rattling, and food sizzling in a pan on the stove. Claire woke to the sound of a large clang, as a pan was dropped on the counter.

  “Trying to sleep in here!” she yelled into the kitchen.

  “You might sleep better in your BED! In your ROOM! Upstairs! With the door closed!” Jeremy replied. He smiled to himself and pushed the eggs around in the pan. He picked up the pan and dropped it on the burner two more times, just to annoy Claire.

  “I like my COUCH!” she yelled. She pulled the pillow from under her head and pressed it over her face and ears.

  Jeremy and Claire had been roommates for three years, but it felt like it had been much longer than that. Besides the frequent bickering, they had a bond better than most brothers and sisters, and they found that they lived well together. Jeremy finished the eggs and turned off the burner. He poured coffee into a large black mug and walked into the living room, before sitting on the couch next to Claire.

  “What’d you do last night?” he asked.

  Claire mumbled underneath the pillow. Jeremy pulled it off of her face and she squinted, hiding her face with her hands.

  “I just went out for some drinks,” she said.

  Jeremy touched her shoulder, closed his eyes and concentrated. In his mind he saw fuzzy images of a man at a bar. “Any forgettable encounters with attractive unsuspecting men?” he smirked. Claire was silent. “You know, you have a lot of other things you could be putting your energy into that don’t involve glamouring random men and women. If you’re not using your energy to better your situation, you could at least be saving it. You look… rough.”

  “Wow, thanks for the pep talk. I told you I don’t like you digging around in my head. It’s rude,” Claire said. She looked at him through her fingers and he was looking down at her lovingly, a small smile in the corner of his mouth.

  “I’m just saying. It takes a lot out of you, and for what?” he asked.

  “We had a good time, okay? And he will remember having a fun night, but he won’t miss me. It’s a win win for everyone.” She moved her hands down from her face. “Is that coffee in that cup?”

  “Yep,” he said.

  “It smells good. Is it for me?” she asked.

  “Nope,” he smiled.

  “Can you bring me some?”

  “Your legs work,” he said.

  “Pleeeeease?” she begged, turning her lips down into a sad puppy face. Jeremy put the pillow back over her face. He got up and walked back into the kitchen. Claire grabbed the pillow and threw it across the room at Jeremy. It landed softly right behind his feet as he entered the kitchen.

  “See, you’re weak now. Maybe if you would have saved your energy you’d have hit me,” he said.

  “I’m weak because I’m tired!” she yelled at him. She didn’t move from the couch and stared across the room, wondering what time it was. She thought about the man from the night before and wondered if she’d see him again. Sighing, she pushed the thought out of her mind and sat up. Her body ached and she felt exhausted. It had to be at least 11:00, because Jeremy never got up before 10 unless he had to. She shouldn’t be this tired for the amount of sleep she got. She worried Jeremy might be right, and maybe her habits were starting to drain her too much. She did have other things she needed to be focusing on. She hadn’t had a show in months, let alone painted anything new. She’d be out of money soon and something had to give. Her body cracked in no less than four places as she slowly stood up from the couch. She wanted to go back to bed but she knew she had to accomplish something today, and the smell of coffee was pulling her into the kitchen.

  “How late are you working tonight?” she asked Jeremy. She grabbed her favorite mug and filled it with coffee. She watched the steam dance and rise until it disappeared.

  “Till eight. I’ll be back in time for circle, don’t worry.”

  “That’s cutting it close,” she said.

  “I know. But I had to cover for Liz today. Eight is the earliest I can do. I’ll get back as fast as I can,” he said.

  “Oh and don’t forget candles. We’re out,” she added.

  “Yep,” he said. “I remember. Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Ravenous, actually.”

  He put two plates on the table and sat down. “Here you are, Miss,” he said. She sat across from him and looked at the plate. Scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and crispy bacon.

&nb
sp; She took a bite of everything on the plate and she could feel her energy returning. “You’re an amazing man,” she said.

  He looked up at her, chewing loudly. “Damn straight.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  EMILY WOKE UP to the soft glow of morning enveloping her small apartment, and the lapping sounds of Eli drinking water out of his dish in the hallway. She felt refreshed, having had a solid six hours of uninterrupted sleep for the first time in recent memory. But instead of feeling relief at the fact that she had finally had a good night's sleep, she was disappointed that she hadn't dreamt about the mystery woman again. She tried to hear the woman’s voice in her head, but nothing came. She rolled over and smelled her pillow, hoping beyond belief that somehow her scent was left behind from the encounter the night before. But she knew it had only been in her head. It just felt more real than anything had before, either asleep or awake. It felt more like a memory than a dream. She sat up and remembered that she was going to go visit the occult shop today. She had been so excited about the prospect when she went to sleep and now that feeling was gone, replaced with a longing that was foreign to her. She will still go, though. She knew that the dream from last night didn’t erase the dreams from the past few months. Even though she felt less motivated than she had been the night before, she decided to push herself to go. If anything, the errand would serve as a distraction from this woman in her head.

  The wind was sharp and biting, and it blew the orange and yellow leaves across the sidewalk in front of the small and unassuming house. Emily parked her car on the street and peered through the passenger side window at the building. An old white house sat in between two one level brownstone commercial buildings. She had driven by this house probably a hundred times, but had never really noticed it before. It was charming and overflowing with character. The windows were filled with book displays, tarot cards, and candles. A chalkboard sign was propped up in the middle of the sidewalk, with three small pumpkins sitting at it’s base. A small witch was drawn on the sign, with the words “Welcome to the Cottage! Come in For a Spell” scrawled in calligraphy above it.