The Tenacious Coven of Grandview by Meowser Clancy
Part One
A/N: I wanted to write a Halloween themed story for Ghost Whisperer, and then a Witch AU just jumped out at me. Many thanks to GhostWhispererFangirl for letting me play with her characters again. Love you ;)
Melinda grew up in her grandmother's coven, surrounded by older witches who knew what they were doing. Before she could walk or talk, she was mixing simple potions together in Mary Ann's cauldron; healing potions of wormwood and basil to help sick animals that came to her doorstep.
They could feel her, you know. Animals can sense magic, in a way that we mere humans can't. They know who to go to when they're hurt or in danger.
They go to witches. That's why almost all witches have familiars, because animals will attach themselves and refuse to leave once a witch has helped them. A witch is supposed to have a familiar, that's how the world works for animals; and an animal who is a familiar is considered very lucky. Blessed.
Melinda grew up without a mother present to help her through difficult times. She remembered several times just asking the universe where Beth had gone, pleading for answers.
She remembered innumerable spells cast in high school in an attempt to locate Beth Gordon. She remembered spending all of her money on potion ingredients that would help her reunite with her mother.
None of them ever worked.
Magic was an integral part of Melinda's life. Being a witch was non-negotiable and, for the most part, that was fine with her.
She loved the steam rising off the cauldron. She loved the heat and stickiness in the air when she made confidence potions to help her in school. She loved the chill when she was trying to make a repel potion; there were people she'd really prefer if they'd stay out of her life. She loved the musk and overpowering sweetness the one time she'd made a love potion.
Never again, Mary Ann had warned, seeing Melinda at the cauldron, bottling that pink essence. Love was something not to be tampered with; because once it was called into question, you could never be sure if it was real or fake.
Melinda still had that bottle, she reflected, carefully turning off the lights in her store.
Life had happened to her, she thought, stepping around the ingredients hanging from the ceiling, ducking to avoid the dream catchers, and brushing against one bookshelf that was filled to the brim with grimoires and potion books.
"Hey, I know that you literally just closed up, but I need help," a voice said as the door opened behind her.
Melinda heaved a sigh, knowing that, as a witch, she had a constant responsibility to help those who came to her, the ones who didn't hold her powers.
But she had a coven meeting tonight; it was nearing the full moon and the Book of Changes would soon announce who was to be the next High Priestess.
The position had been empty since her grandmother died three weeks ago; they had had to wait for a full moon for the Book to show the name it would choose.
And before then, of course, they had to narrow their picks for the thirteenth member, so that when the High Priestess was selected, she could choose the witch she felt most suited.
Melinda had stepped up, this time around, pushing past her mourning. She knew that she'd see her grandmother again, in The Light, and she knew that Mary Ann wouldn't want her to grieve. They'd had a beautiful, precious twenty-two years together and it was time for Mary Ann to go on to her next stage of life: death.
Because death was just a stage.
Melinda brushed her hair back from her face, turning around and reentering the shop.
"I can give you five minutes, traveler," she said, not wanting to turn the lights back on; she whispered words and the candles on the countertop flamed to life.
She could just see the man who'd entered; he was tall, and suddenly her mind was filling in all the rest; his aura was telling her all she needed to know.
Blue eyed, caring, broken heart, tall, works hard, loves harder, he has a touch of death on him, just like you.
The words rushed into her mind, and she could see him clearly though it was dusk outside and the candles burned low.
She felt her cheeks heat and something inside her begin to spin to life.
Was this was the other members of her coven called a first imprint?
"Five minutes is enough," he said, ducking a little to avoid the ingredients on the ceiling; he had to duck far more than a little.
Melinda should really raise them, but she wasn't tall enough and she didn't like using her magic for such simple things; it would drain her reserves to keep them higher all the damn time.
These candles were a steady pull on her magic; she could definitely keep them burning for a good twelve hours without feeling it but that didn't mean one should. Magic was to be treated like most people treated a cell phone's battery; just because it had a sixteen hour life didn't mean you wasted it.
Besides, she could feel her magic begin to go out of control, just a little bit, from being this physically close to this man as she was.
Which had never happened before.
He thinks you're beautiful, he's captivated, he wants to know why you actually wear black, he's surprised to find witch stereotypes true.
"Are you a witch?" He asked.
"Yes," Melinda said simply, taking his question for what it was: an honest curiosity, a need for it to be said; he would believe her.
He believed her the instant she said the words.
"Can you speak to the dead?" He wondered, and she could hear the pain in his voice.
"I can sometimes speak to earthbound spirits," she admitted. "When their voices are strong enough, shall we say. But most spirits don't stay on this earth long; it's too hard to stay tied here."
She licked her lips, watching him as he looked around the shop .
His name is James. He prefers Jim. No one has called him Jim in a long time.
"Jim," she breathed, reaching out to him, and he turned back to face her in an instant, shock written on him.
"How did you know my name?" He wondered, and she merely shook her head, reaching her hand out to him; he reached out met it with his, looking at her in wonder. "I don't like secrets," he began.
"It's not a secret, it's magic," Melinda said, and pulled her hand away.
She felt literal sparks as their skin parted; her body didn't want to leave his.
She felt an undeniable energy pass between them; like her magic was strengthening just by being in his presence.
This was it. He was the one.
But how did she tell him that?
"Magic," Jim said, frustration in his voice. "How is it magic if it can't give me what I want?"
"It might give you what you need," Melinda said, voice softening.
He shook his head. "This was a mistake."
He's scared. He feels it too. Stop him. He wants you to stop him. Melinda. Stop him.
She let him go. He started from the shop slowly and then he was quickening his pace, and then he was just gone, disappeared into the evening, gone out into the smoky gray world.
Melinda finished locking up the shop, feeling some of her magic drain, feeling the world get a little less magical.
Delia nodded at her as she entered the smoky backyard of her friend's house.
There were sixteen women gathered around in a circle. Holly blew a kiss to Melinda when she walked in, and Melinda saw one of the initiates shift from foot to foot; Andrea, she was called. Very tall, just a bit more nervous than the other possibilities.
Melinda liked that. It meant that Andrea actually cared.
She wants this more than they do. She needs it; she's never belonged. She's travelled the world alone, dealing with her powers, and now she just needs a place to stay.
Melinda let the thoughts sink into her, and touched Andrea's shoulder as she passed, smiling to make her feel more assured.
Melinda had no idea who the Book of Changes would pick to be the new High Priestess but she knew that, more likely than not, the choice would give a little deference to Melinda in honor of the fact that Mary Ann had been her grandmother; this coven was more important to Melinda than it was to any of the other members; it just was.
Lexie raised an eyebrow; she was another initiate, one who Melinda knew from school; one that Melinda didn't want to be chosen, but didn't know how to articulate her misgivings about the girl.
"Brethren. Sistren. Greetings," Delia said, joining the circle.
Melinda took Gina's and Alice's hands as she moved into the circle; it was bigger than usual as she looked around at the other faces there, some of them sticking out more than others.
Professor Avery Grant. Detective Samantha Blair. Holly Newman. Women from all walks of life who'd bonded over this common gift.
Their coven was one of thirteen; Mary Ann had liked tradition, clung to it.
Today they had three extra: Eli James, Andrea Marino and Lexie, initiates.
Their coven had only had a handful of male members of the years; Melinda wasn't sure how she felt about gaining a new one.
"The Book of Changes will make its decision when the full moon comes," Delia was saying. "We have been three weeks without a High Priestess since our beloved Mary Ann passed into The Light, and we have here tonight, for the first time, our three possible initiates for after that happens, to bring us back up to thirteen members."
Melinda felt the magic growing in the backyard, tensions building. She wondered who it was coming from; all of the members of her coven had better control than this.
Are you sure it's not you. Jim still has you spinning. I think it's you, Melinda. Melinda, it's you. You shouldn't be here. You're going to give off too much energy.
Melinda broke the circle, gasping when a crack of thunder sounded in the sky.
Gina looked up in surprise. "I've been surveying the weather, rain isn't supposed to come until after the full moon."
Somehow Melinda knew that she'd done this, something she'd never even known about herself before.
"We don't gather in the rain," Alice said immediately.
"Too risky," Avery chimed in.
"Our meeting is over," Delia announced. "Andrea, Lexie, Eli, you'll be told when we meet next."
The group started to disperse; Melinda noticed the drawn look on Blair's face and briefly touched the woman's shoulder; she knew that she'd been handling more at the station, getting some side eyes for her participation in the coven, even though it had never been something the woman had advertised.
She was one of the women who never really utilized her magic, but it spilled over, making suspects feel the need to spill all, making car chases easier, trying to find ways to help her.
She hadn't quite embraced her gift yet; Melinda hoped that it would get easier for her.
Avery, however, was the type of woman to try to pour magic into every area of her life, but whose powers weren't quite enough to stretch that far. She wanted every part of life to be completely shimmering with spells and potions, but magic didn't usually work like that.
She definitely came into Melinda's shop a lot though.
Melinda wandered from the backyard, feeling the sky grow darker, feeling her unsettled emotions feed the storm.
She had to get herself under control, she'd never felt like this before.
She couldn't go back home to her apartment behind the store; she was afraid that she'd bring the weather with her so instead she turned the other way and started walking down the road.
She was soon on the outskirts of Grandview, surrounded by fields and forests; just wildlife.
And then the rain started. Harsh, pounding rain, that drilled into her.
She felt overheated; she took her coat off, leaving her in the black dress from earlier, the heavy lace of the skirt pulling at her.
She kept walking, hoping she could just outlast this storm, wondering why this was so intense, wondering what this was coming from. She knew that witches could change the weather but usually just during periods of turmoil; most couldn't do it intentionally, unless they used a spell that took weeks to prepare for.
But Melinda hadn't realized that her emotions were that crazy right now. That she was so out of touch with herself.
She reached down and lifted the hem of her black dress, remembering Mary Ann's words.
Sometimes we just need to become one with the world again, Melinda. When life is crazy, just go outside and let yourself become one with nature.
She peeled it over her head, leaving herself in her underwear; which was also black.
She was in mourning, she realized. That was why she'd only worn black over the past few weeks.
The storm seemed to be growing ever stronger; a flash of lightning lit the sky and a huge crack of thunder followed it.
She threw out her arms, forcing herself to revel in the power of the earth, and then she was doing it quite willingly, not forcing anything at all.
She was one. This storm came from her, and she embraced it with open arms. She had to learn to deal with her emotions, she knew that.
She closed her eyes, spinning around, and she opened them to a shout.
"What are you doing?"
It's the black haired tall man with blue eyes. It's Jim. Don't let him leave.
He was running across the field towards her; she could see his truck in the distance.
"Are you okay?" He panted, getting within talking distance of her. He was already soaked; his plaid shirt, the fitted t shirt underneath it.
He was so tall.
And then he recognized her, took a step back. "Oh. Is this some sort of witchy thing?"
"Kind of," Melinda confessed. "I think I summoned this storm."
He blinked. "Really? You can control the weather like that?"
"No, but my feelings for you were so intense that I brought it here accidentally," Melinda said, confessing all.
And Jim just stared, mouth falling open.
"Do you believe me?" Melinda finally asked.
"I shouldn't but I do," Jim said, all in a rush, pausing again, cheeks red. "Because I felt it too."
She threw herself forward, and he opened his arms to embrace her, pull her close, cling to her.
Their lips met and Melinda had never known such passion, such fire.
The storm was growing ever more intense; lightning lit the sky as Jim lit Melinda, setting her on fire with longing.
His lips were smooth and plump, and soon travelled from her lips down her wet neck, sucking at the skin there, relishing every smooth inch.
Her nipples had already pebbled from the chill of the rain; he was slipping her bra off, casting it aside, and his hands were there, warming her, his mouth was capturing every creamy mouthful of her skin, tasting it, soothing it.
This man would be the making of her.
His hands were big and warm as they pressed against her back, pulling her ever closer, and Melinda threw her head back, granting him better access.
Her hands settled on his shoulders, on the hard muscles there, clinging to him.
She wanted him to give something here too.
She peeled the plaid shirt off of him; it was made difficult because of how it was sticking to his skin and also because he didn't want to take his arms from around her, but he finally pulled back, eyes almost black with desire and impatience, muscles rippling as he took his shirt off and threw it away; as he reached to peel the t shirt off too; it was clinging to his skin and she could see everything and she moaned deep within her when he peeled it over his head, every muscle moving in his arms and chest, and she saw him.
He was perfect. He was real. He had the muscles of a man who worked for a living, not a man who worked out for a living, and his stomach was rockhard, and his pecs were…
She moved forward, placing her mouth on him where his mouth had been on her, and he gasped, clinging to her, trying to keep standing.
And then their lips met again, and he was lifting her up; her legs clamped around his waist and she never wanted to let him go.
Their hands and lips were exploring every place they could reach, and finally, her panties were slid off, and his fingers were sliding up her slick thighs, and he was lowering her onto the wet ground, he was licking his lips and she was fumbling at his belt.
And finally he was naked too, and she couldn't breathe from how good he looked, from how this was actually happening, and he was so big, in every way possible.
He entered her; she felt their bodies connect in such a visceral way that she cried out from the pleasure, and he felt it too, freezing for a moment, before they both started to move again, shifting into each other, pushing themselves deeper.
And this wasn't like sex usually was. It was much more charged, much easier to get aroused. It was like Jim was the matches and she was the matchbox and the friction, oh god, the friction, was making them set the world aflame.
And they climaxed together, something that Melinda had thought was impossible, something she was sure was because of the incredible magical bond between them.
And then the earth was still.
The rain was slowing, the lightning was gone, the thunder quieted.
The moon was coming out; not quite full yet, but most definitely enough so that she lit the earth with her cool light.
Jim was collapsed on her, bracing his weight on his arms so as not to crush her, but he was still on her enough that she could feel every inch of him, that she relished every inch of him.
They were so close right now, in every way possible.
"Marry me," Melinda whispered. "I think it's meant to be."
They walked back to his car, eventually, having put their soaked clothes back on. Melinda considered a drying spell but decided it wasn't worth it.
"I should tell you a little about my Coven," she said, clearing her throat. "We are a Coven that has thirteen, but right now, we are down to twelve. My grandmother was the High Priestess and she passed on three weeks ago. The Book of Changes will soon show who is to take her place; and then the one who is chosen will decide which initiate joins the Coven. We have three possibilities right now."
Jim absorbed the news surprisingly well, just nodding.
"I don't think I've seen you around before," Melinda began.
"I only just moved here," he told her. "I needed a new beginning. Grandview called to me."
He turned his head to look at her. "Maybe you were the one calling me," he said, voice a little wistful.
She cleared her throat, nervous, afraid she'd mess this up. "Maybe I was," she said, reaching to place her hand on his leg. "I've never done something like this before. Oh, turn up ahead. I live behind my shop."
He was quiet again, parking his truck behind the shop next to her Jeep. She jumped from the car, running around to his side, hoping that he still wanted this. Wanted her.
"You can come in and shower, if you want," she breathed. "I sell a few clothes, something should fit you."
"Okay," Jim said, reaching to take her hand in his; the motion set a jolt of electricity and pleasing warmth through Melinda; he wanted to keep them connected.
She led him to the shower, slipping away so he could shower in peace, but as she walked around her small apartment, wondering what to do, he poked his head from the bathroom.
"The thing that seems to make the most sense right now would be asking you to join me," he said softly, ducking his head because of the low doorway. "To see if it will be the same between us. And you must be chilled too."
His gaze was intense; she was already in love with his blue eyes.
He wants you to join him. This is a test. This is a test. Don't let him go, Melinda Gordon.
She walked forward, already peeling off her black dress again, ready to make this real.
She spent the whole next few days until the full moon with Jim, making love, making love again...and again...every place possible in her tiny apartment...in the shop...in the basement…
They couldn't keep their hands off of each other and when they were done, when the passion had subsided, they talked, telling each other everything.
She heard his story; he believed hers.
They shared pain. They shared joy.
Neither had ever told another human being half the things they admitted in those precious few days.
And then the day came, and Melinda kissed Jim farewell as she prepared to go to the Coven meeting.
"The Book of Changes speaks tonight," she told him, rubbing one hand down his muscled arm. "I no longer care as much whose name it writes."
"Do you think it'll be you?" Jim asked, pulling her closer, softly kissing her neck; her hair was up in a bun, something she'd learned he found irresistible.
"No," Melinda chuckled. "I mean, it could be me, but I think it'll pick someone older, more experienced."
"But you're Mary Ann's granddaughter," Jim said, proving that he already knew just what exactly it meant to be Mary Ann's granddaughter.
This was why she loved him so fiercely, from how he was already clinging to her magic and her history and how her world worked; how his world would work from now on.
"I don't know," Melinda whispered. "It would be a lot of work." She bit one lip, as his lips traveled on her neck, soft, warm, tempting, irresistible. "It would be less time with you."
His hands closed around her waist, he moaned and pulled her even closer. "Maybe it is a bad idea," he chuckled, and then they got lost in each other again, until he pulled away, a moment later. "I think the Book will have your name in it," he said quietly. "It makes sense in my mind."
"When has the Book ever made sense?" She said, and he grinned.
"Not ever, considering what you've told me," he admitted.
"I'll be back before midnight," she said. "Wait up for me?"
"I'll wait up for you," he said, before she was able to finish saying the words; their eyes darkened again and she only barely made it to the Coven meeting on time.
The women and men there were impatient; they wanted to see this thing finished.
Avery held the Book up, squinting at the words. "It's not there yet," she said.
"Let me look," Holly whispered, her pregnant stomach bumping into Alice as she moved.
"Sistren, be calm," Delia said, taking the Book for herself.
"Suppose it picks me?" Blair asked, breaking the commotion. "Can I say no?"
"You can't tell the Book no," Delia said.
"You'd have to step up," Alice said, placing a comforting hand on Blair's arm.
Melinda noticed Andrea's tightly folded arms; the woman was terrified.
And then the Book jumped from Delia's arm, lying flat on the table, flipping itself open to the right page.
Melinda's heart clenched, and then started to spin.
Melinda Gordon
It was right beneath Mary Ann Patterson on the page, on the list of High Priestesses.
The room seemed to breathe out.
There was silence.
"Who do you pick then?" Lexie said, breaking the silence.
Melinda didn't even need to think about it; she reached a hand out and a strong one took it. "Andrea. I pick Andrea."
End Part One