Emma wedged her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she hauled her suitcase towards the row of apartment buildings that she would now be calling home. "I don't know why I moved down here." She complained to her friend on the other side of the phone. "It's hot and disgusting."
The sticky air clung to her skin, making her brow glisten with sweat as she unloaded her life from the backseat of her yellow bug. The best description of the weather she had to give, was that she was pretty sure she knew what corn on the cob felt like when it's wrapped in plastic wrap and stuck in the microwave.
"Ugh." She huffed as she fumbled for her keys. "I have to go. I'll talk to you later."
Emma shouldered the door open, stepping into the dimly lit apartment which reeked with that Lowcountry aroma she was going to have to get used to. As Mary Margaret had so sweetly reminded her, she chose to take this position. No one forced her to move to a coastal community to lead a coven. They'd offered and she'd jumped at the chance to explore a new part of the country. She'd always been a drifter, but the little town in Maine had been the most permanent place she'd ever lived. For all intents and purposes it was home, but now she'd uprooted herself and planted seeds in a place that had bugs the size of her hand.
Her heart had guided the decision, which in the past usually meant something – good or bad – would come of it.
The apartment had been procured sight unseen. It was close enough to Beaufort where the coven was, but not right inside the town. There was no way in hell she'd have been able to afford the houses and apartments in the town – hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars? Fuck that. She'd make do with a three room apartment by a briny body of water that was home to crocodiles.
She preferred living by the water. That was where she found her magic. She'd been landlocked out west for far too long and the move to Boston and then up to Maine had unlocked her full potential. Ingrid, who'd been the leader of the coven up north had said she'd never seen one person possess as much power as she did. For someone who'd discovered she had abilities later in life, she'd really blossomed into a powerful witch.
Which was exactly how she'd gotten the offer. The coven here had been dealing with a difficult leader. One who seemed more interested in dark magic, opposed to light. The network of covens along the Eastern seaboard were good witches – those who had the best interests at heart. Though they weren't quite as good as Hallmark Channel's too-perfect Good Witch Cassie Nightingale. Emma frequently watched that just to roll her eyes at the innocent and useless magic they made up on it.
Emma headed back downstairs to grab the last two boxes of her belongings; her magic box which was filled with candles, stones, herbs, pre-made potions, and her books. Boston had been such a magically charged town when she lived there, which was when she acquired the vast majority of her collection. Despite the sticky weather that slapped her in the face each time she stepped outside, she felt that same current of energy dancing through the air. There was something else, something that she was unfamiliar with clinging to the currents. Was that the darker magic that ran rampant in the South? Black Magic Hoodoo and Voodoo?
Emma slammed her car door shut a little harder than necessary, before turning on her heels to head back for apartment, but she came face-to-face with a man staring at her.
"Need any help?"
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm fine. Thanks."
He held his hands up in mock-defense, "No need to be so crisp. Just a neighbor. Heard there was someone new moving in today and thought I might offer a helping hand."
"I've got it covered from here," Emma said briskly, moving to step around the brown haired man, giving him a once over with a skeptical look. She was leery of strangers who just appeared out of nowhere. Stranger danger and all that.
"Name's Robin. I live in 15b, right down the hall from you if you ever need any help." He explained, even as she stepped past him to head for the complex. There was something about him that made her feel uncomfortable and she wondered how long he'd been watching her unload her car. Ingrid had offered her wisdom from a dream she'd had – watch your back.
"Cool." Emma said blandly as she steered herself straight towards the stairwell that led to the second floor where her apartment was. 13b. Of course the guy lived right down the hall from her.
"Did the landlady tell you about the Palmetto Bugs?"
Emma rolled her eyes, glancing back over her shoulder to see that he was right behind her, following her up there stairs. "She sent a picture. Nasty looking things." She said as monosyllabic as possible. She didn't want to chat with her neighbors. She wanted to move in and relax before tomorrow morning rolled around and she was thrust completely into her new life.
"We don't get many new people here." Robin told her as they reached the landing. Thankfully he'd taken the hint and headed towards his apartment as she pulled the keys out for her own.
Emma's brows knit together. "Hope that's not because of problems around here."
Robin whistled, "Depends on what you consider problems." He chuckled. "Hasn't every town got problems?"
Emma nodded, pushing her door open, turning back to look at him. "Yeah, I guess it does."
"Have a good evening Emma."
"You too." Emma said quickly, before slamming the door shut, locking it, and latching the chain across it. She hadn't told him her name had she? Her heart was pounding in her chest as she moved to sit the boxes down on her kitchen table. That didn't make any sense. Unless her landlady had told people someone named Emma was moving into the complex. That's what she was going to go with. Otherwise she was going to crazy with worry.
There was something about his aura that had set her on edge. It wasn't necessary evil. It was an ambiguous sort of coloration that left too many questions without answers. Maybe he was just a socially awkward nosey neighbor who didn't know it was creepy to stand around and silently watch your new neighbor unload her car.
Emma dug around in her box, looking for a specific book that just happened to be at the bottom of everything else. Which was how it always worked out. She huffed as she pulled it free from the other books and the candles which trapped it at the bottom of the box. Practical Currents. She flipped through the pages, trying to find something that jumped out at her. Witches, vampires, demons, hell raisers, necromancers, werewolves. The color of the aura on the page was similar enough to the man she'd just encountered.
But that would be insane? She was probably just exhausted from the drive and her mind was playing tricks on her. It wouldn't be the first time. Besides, having a werewolf live down the hall from her was infinitely better than having a necromancer or a demon there instead. It was more than likely that he was a perfectly normal guy, albeit a little nosey and awkward, and she was just seeing things.
Ingrid had told her about a few vampire clans that called the Lowcountry home, but no one had mentioned to be wary of werewolves down here. She didn't have to worry about vampires, they steered clear of witches, but werewolves – they tended to want cures for their curse. Mary Margaret always complained about how many werewolves wandered into her shop begging for something to soothe their malady, but there was no cure for lycanthropy. Only werewolves seemed to bemoan their curse. If the man across the hall was a werewolf, she only prayed he left her alone.
~o~
Sleep didn't come easily. The bed was uncomfortable and her sheets clung to her skin, which really didn't lend to a good night's sleep. It didn't help that her thoughts before she went to bed had led to strange dreams about vampires. Well, one vampire in particular. He had bright blue eyes and a sharp jawline that had her dream-self a little weak in the knees. It made her wonder if her fitful sleep was because of the temperature or because of the man that haunted her dreams.
Unlike Ingrid, she didn't have prophetic dreams. Her handsome dream vampire was just that – a dream. A really good dream. She'd never really thought herself to be the sort to get hot over someone so icy cold and drop dead gorgeous. Apparently her subconscious was telling her she needed to unwind and he was the person to do it.
She rolled over and checked her phone, mindlessly checking her email – which was nothing but spam and a few order confirmations for some supplies she was having delivered in the coming days. Mary Margaret had texted her at some point in the night, telling her to be strong and that good would come from this. Which was sweet, she was wholly more optimistic than she ever had been. She had tried to convince her and her husband to move down to Beaufort with her, but they were pretty entrenched in their lives in Maine. Especially with the baby on the way.
The coven was meeting around noon at a café on Bay Street, which was housed inside of a historic bank building. Hopefully they'd be genuine witches and not the flakey earth, power, and love freaks that seemed to be breaking into the scene. She could handle the situation if the leader was playing around with Black Magic, she wore a stone around her neck which protected her from hexes, but it was the faux-witches who knew too much that caused the most trouble.
Emma dressed in the lightest thing she owned, a tank top and a pair of jeans, and set out to explore Beaufort before it was time to go to lunch. She looked out her peephole, checking for the weird neighbor, before she slipped out of her apartment. She really didn't want to have another encounter with the man. He was probably perfectly nice, but she preferred to keep to herself.
The town was quaint: antique shops, boutiques, and little restaurants lined the main street, while ancient houses, symbols of days long gone, that sat along side streets concealed by Spanish Moss that hung over the branches of equally as ancient trees. It was picturesque and hot as hell. She was really starting to question why she'd chosen to come down here. If this was what late spring felt like, she wasn't going to survive the summer. While the Downtown Marina was gorgeous, the palm trees offered little relief from the mid-morning sun as it seared against her skin.
Nestled at the very end of Craven Street was a house that caught Emma by surprise. All of the houses in Beaufort were admittedly gorgeous, but this one was incredible. It was a grand two story Greek Revival with massive columns that added to its majesty. It made the other houses around it seem like dog houses.
Emma eyed the name plaque on the ornate wrought iron fence – Rising Sun. Emma couldn't help but wonder if the owners were fans of The Animals song. It suited the house. Though, wasn't the Rising Sun in New Orleans?
She laughed to herself as her eyes raked over the house, taking in the vast number of windows that faced her. In the age before air conditioning she could understand why they needed so many windows, in hopes that a breeze would cool the place off. Though the dank smell coming from the murky Beaufort River beside the house would have made her wary of keeping the windows open for air.
Emma noticed something unusual about the house – all the windows were painted with a thick layer of…black paint?
Except for one. Movement in that window caught her attention, drawing her eyes to it. It looked like a curtain had billowed out and then fallen still, as though someone had receded from the window when she noticed it. Had someone been watching her ogle their house?
She stared at the window for a long moment longer, willing whoever had been there to come back, so she wouldn't feel crazy.
Clearly, the heat was having its way with her.
Emma lingered, watching, waiting, hoping she'd see the figure again. She still wasn't certain if she'd actually seen someone or if it had just been a curtain blowing in the non-existent breeze.
Though, she had a damn good idea why the windows were blackened and it wasn't because the sun made the rooms hot. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest as she remembered the dream she'd had. It was insane, but stranger things had been known to happen.
She turned her back on the grand mansion and she knew she was being watched again. She could feel the eyes on the back of her head, but she didn't dare to look back. This wasn't why she'd moved to Beaufort.
Emma had barely reached the restaurant before she found herself being accosted. A blonde woman around her age grabbed her and hugged her before she had a chance to register. "Emma! Oh God. You are Emma right? I really hope you're Emma, otherwise that was really awkward."
Emma laughed, pulling away from the hug. "That's me. Still awkward though." She eyed the woman, trying to figure out who she was, before it clicked. "You're Elsa, right?" She'd met her once about three years ago. She was Ingrid's niece and she was the one who had told her aunt about the mess going on with the coven.
"You remember me!" She smiled. "Thank you so much for coming down here. You have no idea how much it means to me. I would have taken over myself, but I don't have very good control of my abilities yet. Ingrid said you're the best."
Emma ignored the comment about her being the best. To her the woman was just trying to guilt her into not being pissed off. "Has the witch already stepped down?" From what Ingrid had told her, it sounded like she had, but it had all been kinda vague.
Elsa looked away, "That's kinda the problem."
She frowned, crossing her arms across her chest. "Ingrid acted like she wasn't still leading the group." Emma sighed. "I'll figure out what to do." She sat her jaw hard. It would have been nice to at least know that a witch practicing Black Magic was still in control. She expected her to maybe still be part of the coven, but not in a leadership position. She was going to have her work cut out for her.
"We haven't actually told her that we don't want her leading us anymore." Elsa said, toying with the end of her thick braid. "The coven's rather split about the issue."
"Great." Emma huffed. "What's her name?"
"Regina Mills." Elsa answered. "She's quite the force to be reckoned with. I have my suspicions that she's been playing with Black Magic for some time, but only recently started trying to pull us into the mess."
"Let's hope this goes well." Emma said dryly, giving the other blonde a look of irritation. "People don't generally take getting replaced well." What the hell had she gotten herself into?
