A Note from Me to You: The subject of witchcraft (or Wicca) is a very touchy subject for most people. If you are anyone of those people, this story isn't for you! I will try to update this everyday. But above all, enjoy!

Chapter 1

It rained in Miami the night before Halloween and as always there was an aura of unrest in the air. Excitement was too, as children were getting ready for a night of serious trick-or-treating.

As he gazed out the window of his office, Horatio glimpsed the shape of a caped figure climbing out of a cab and racing into the Miami-Dade Crime Lab.

Everyone was getting ready to leave when the elevator doors opened to admit a tall caped figure, the full hood of the black cape drawn over the head. As Horatio departed the office the hooded figure swept off the covering to reveal a lovely young woman with alabaster skin, a square face with full lips and slanted blue-gray eyes, her long red hair piled up into a bun.

"I'm looking for Lieutenant Horatio Caine," she said, her voice as whispery as the wind through the palm trees. "Is Lieutenant Caine here?"

Horatio offered her his hand to shake. "Miss Llewellyn thanks for stopping by," he said. Belladonna Llewellyn smiled and shook his outstretched hand, and Horatio noticed two things: that she wore black gloves that went up to her elbows and a silver pentacle around her neck.

"You said in your phone call that you needed to speak with me," said Horatio. She nodded, her smile suddenly fading.

"Could we speak privately, Lieutenant?" she asked. "In your office, maybe?"

Horatio nodded and led her to the solitude of his office. The minute he shut the door Belladonna shed her cape and draped it over the chair. Horatio arched an eyebrow at her attire. She wore black brocaded shoes, spider web thigh-high stockings, and a black velveteen minidress that laced up in the back and had puffed sleeves.

He sat before her and leaned foreword slightly. "You said that you were the one receiving death threats because of your religion," he said, "and that you were a friend of Celine Brown." He referred to a case he and his CSI team solved a year ago. Brown had been found in her home, raped and beaten so badly that her family could only ID her by the pentacle she wore around her neck. Brown was Wiccan, a modern day witch, and her killer had been her husband, who simply wanted to convert her back to Christianity.

"She was my coven sister," said Belladonna. "But…that's not want I'm here for." She handed him a typed letter. "He's at it, again. He has threatened to kill me tomorrow."

Horatio read the letter. Florida doesn't need another witch performing satanic rituals, it read. And on October 31st you're going to go the same way Celine did. Watch your witchy back.

"It couldn't have been Walter," Belladonna said, referring to Celine Brown's husband. "He's in jail and he never wrote a letter in his life."

"Any idea why someone would want to harm you?" asked Horatio.

"I'm a witch, Lieutenant. Wicca has long been confused with Satanism. In Wicca, there's no Devil, no blood drinking, no orgies or child-eating." She sounded very frightened. "It's worshipping nature, the Goddess, and benevolent spells, that's all. But people still get it wrong."

Horatio returned to the letter. "Any idea who 'The Witch-hunter' is?" he asked.

"I don't know." Belladonna rubbed her eyes. "I'm so afraid, Lieutenant. I don't want to die."

Horatio looked deep into those tearful blue-gray eyes and his heart started pounding. There was something about this attractive woman, though he couldn't say what. "I won't let that happen, Miss Llewellyn," he said.

She gave a weak smile.

"I appreciate it, Lieutenant Caine," she said. When she stood up to leave she paused and looked at him. "My coven and I are celebrating Samhain tomorrow night. You're most welcome to come if you so wish. It's at eight o'clock." She smiled again and gave a slight nod.

Horatio smiled back. "I'll be there," he said.

As she left his office Horatio stared after her, just wondering what he had gotten himself into. He stared down at the letter; the first of many filed by Belladonna, and then dialed Eric Delko up on his cell phone.

"What's up, H?"

"Eric, I need you and Calliegh to come up here for a minute. I need to talk to you."

When Eric spoke again, Horatio smiled at the tone of his voice. "Sure, H."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Belladonna sat alone in her candle-lit living room, staring horrified at the latest death threat that had just been slipped into her mailbox. Twenty-four hours, witch, it read. Did you like the way Celine died? Because that's what's gonna happen to you.

"Bastard," she snarled, tears of helplessness coursing down her cheeks. She rubbed them away. Who could she turn to in her hour of need?

Call Horatio Caine.

She stood up and went to her occult bookshelf where a dragon cell phone caddy held cards of her favorite occult shops as well as the card Lieutenant Caine gave her the first time they met.

Lieutenant Caine. Belladonna's heart twisted at the thought of seeing the tall red-haired police officer again tomorrow night and her body was overcome with warmth.

She reached for Horatio's card but stopped when she heard a sharp thud on her door. She looked about her and realized that her cat, Pyewackett, had not come in from his outdoor mouse-hunt. A feeling of nausea swept over Belladonna as she slowly opened her door.

The body of a black cat lay crumpled before her, its belly sliced open. Blood seeped into the welcome mat and the smell was awful. Belladonna fell onto her knees in shock. The dead cat was Pyewackett.

Belladonna began to scream.