The Hidden Grimoire Read online

  THE HIDDEN GRIMOIRE

  A Hillendale Novel

  BY

  KARLA BRANDENBURG

  THE HIDDEN GRIMOIRE

  Karla Brandenburg

  Copyright 2020 © Karla Lang

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

  This is a work of fiction.

  For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact [email protected]

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 1

  Arms folded, I stood on my front porch admiring my mailbox, feeling ridiculously excited about the adhesive script lettering I’d added to the blank space—Brynn Taylor. My own house. No one could kick me out of my own house. A chilly wind swirled the dusting of snow on the sidewalks. I shivered and ducked inside.

  In my workroom, the late October sun streamed through the windows. The construction smells of wood and drywall and paint hadn’t yet been overtaken by the essential oils processing in the still and the crockpots. An underlying trace of smoke remained. The one thing that had survived the fire was the cupboard in the corner. Protected inside were the botanical recipe books—the grimoires that had been handed down for generations.

  Those plants that wintered inside sat in pots on shelves by the windows. Window boxes held an array of herbs.

  Aunt Nora was coming for a visit today, as she often did on a Sunday, but today was Halloween. She’d hinted at a surprise for me. I had a surprise for her, too. In the short time since she’d moved away, I’d made a conscious effort to utilize the gifts she and I had inherited. Instead of rattling objects with my moods, I was able to channel my telekinesis.

  I walked to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, and practiced my skill. With a few moments of concentration, plates and cups moved—seemingly by themselves—to the dining table beside the bay window overlooking the backyard. Look Ma, no hands. Quite pleased with myself, I carried the banana bread I’d baked yesterday, along with a tub of butter.

  The first night I’d spent in this house I’d wondered if Nora was a witch. The table had magically seemed to be set and dinner had been ready before she could have known she would have a guest.

  She was a witch, of course, and so was I.

  The great room was largely as she’d left it. The dining table fit naturally beside the bay window. Across from the table, the sofa marked the middle of the room. A hooked rug hung on the living room wall over a bookshelf with a television. Wooden beams lined the white-painted ceiling. In time, I’d add my own touches, like I had with the mailbox.

  When I looked out the kitchen window, Nora’s little black car jackrabbited into the driveway. I opened the door to find her tracing the letters on my mailbox.

  “I won’t even know the place before long,” she said. “Everything looks great, Brynn.”

  I hugged her tight, the one family member who had shown me true affection. She’d become like a second mother to me. “There’s only so much I can do, but the little things do make me feel more like the house is mine.”

  She shrugged out of her cape, uncovering a flowing tunic over palazzo pants. Married life hadn’t changed her style. Her clothes flapped behind her like a bird as she moved through the kitchen to the dining table where we’d spent so many hours together.

  “So, tell me what’s going on in Hillendale,” she said, settling in. “Have you met the neighbors across the street?”

  As much as I wanted to tell her, I restrained myself. I fought a smile, careful to veil my thoughts so as not to spoil the surprise. I brought the pot of coffee to the table and sat across from her. “I’ve invited him to join us for dinner later so you’ll have a chance to meet him.” I hadn’t told her Kyle Jakes had bought the house, or that he and I had started dating again. I figured he and I could share the news together.

  “Do I know him?” she asked.

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  She poured herself a cup of coffee. “Tease.”

  I waited to share my latest accomplishment until I had her full attention. She took a sip of her coffee and tilted her head, sensing my excitement.

  “I’ve learned how to control my telekinesis,” I gushed.

  “Aren’t you the clever one.” She buttered a piece of bread and set it on her plate. “Funny you should mention it. Now that you’ve embraced your legacy, there’s one more thing I want to show you, after we’ve had a chance to catch up.” She reached for me and stroked a strand of my hair. “Your hair is so pretty. It’s getting quite long, isn’t it?”

  Reflexively, I gathered a handful, scowling at the mousy brown color and tossed it behind my shoulder. “I was thinking of cutting it, but I’ll probably wait until spring now. Winter wool.”

  She fluffed her salt-and-pepper curls, restrained with butterfly clips. “How you wear your hair is up to you, but I do like it long. It looks so shiny and healthy, not like when you first showed up in Hillendale.”

  Not surprising. After my accident on the Wisconsin County highway three years ago, I’d been the very definition of a waif—lost, alone, with nowhere to go. Nora had changed my life in more ways than one, and as much as I valued my independence, I missed not seeing her every day. “How is life on the reservation?”

  Nora laughed, a bright musical sound. “It’s the same as when I lived here. People like me well enough—from a distance. They come to me for potions or special concoctions, and they’re friendly, but nobody lingers when they visit.” She raised her eyebrows. “How are things working out at the gift shop? Have sales picked up at Windfall?”

  A swell of pride rushed through me. “Since we sell clothing now, we’re calling it a boutique.” I assured her my new partner’s fashions seemed to be doing well, and customers continued to stop in for botanicals. “So far, so good, but it’s hard to know at this stage.”

  Nora took a bite of her bread, followed by a sip of coffee. “I don’t want you to worry, but you should know the townspeople might be more stand
offish today. They’re never quite sure what to make of us on Halloween, as if they expect us to go flying across the sky on broomsticks.”

  I laughed. “Can we even do that?”

  “I imagine we could, if you think you need to, although I don’t see a purpose to do so.” She leaned over the table. “Unless you want to screw with them.”

  I laughed again. “I’m guessing you never did.”

  “No. I had enough other prejudices to overcome.”

  Most recently, marrying an indigenous man.

  Someone pounded on the door and my heart jumped in response. “Who in the world...?” I rose to answer and was surprised to see my cousin standing on the doorstep. Although I hadn’t seen him in more than five years, I recognized his mother’s blonde hair and his father’s dark blue eyes. “Jason?”

  Nora hovered at my shoulder.

  “Good. You’re both here,” he said, barging inside.

  I didn’t remember him as rude, but there wasn’t much I did know about him. “I didn’t realize you knew where I lived.”

  “Jeannine told me.” He glared at Nora, and then at me.

  His sister, Jeannine, and I had reconnected on amicable terms. Jason’s attitude indicated he wasn’t interested in being friendly. What could Nora and I possibly have done to warrant such animosity? Then again, his parents hadn’t spared much love for me despite taking me in after my own parents had died.

  I fought to find my manners, even if he seemed to have lost his. “Nora, this is Jason Hanson. Uncle Jerome and Aunt Theresa’s son.”

  Her voice was subdued. “So I gathered. How lovely to meet you, Jason.”

  He leaned toward her, shaking a finger. “I know all about you. Stay away from me and my family. Both of you.”

  Chapter 2

  So much for good manners. I stepped in front of Jason, my hands on my hips. “What do you think we’re going to do to you?”

  He glanced from Nora to me and back again. “I overheard many conversations between my father and Aunt Charlotte about how they thought it best to keep all of us away from her,” he nodded at Nora, “unless we,” with air quotes, “exhibited signs.”

  I’d had enough of my long-lost cousin. “Signs of what? Extreme dysfunction?” I shouted. “Oh, no problem there. Your parents taught me all I needed to know. Isn’t that why you don’t go home?”

  Nora touched my arm. “Watch your temper.”

  Things didn’t rattle when I got riled up now that I’d learned to control the telekinesis. I considered rattling something on purpose to screw with Jason, or sending something flying at his head.

  He took a step back. “My sister might think we can be one big happy family again, but I’m not interested. And you’re going to be the ones to make her understand. Do I make myself clear?”

  “I’m afraid you’re not clear at all,” Nora said. “If you’re not interested, that seems like something you should tell her.”

  Jason’s lips narrowed into a thin line. “My parents refused to talk to me about you,” he told Nora. “But Aunt Charlotte...” His throat undulated and his expression softened. “I’m sorry about your mother, Brynn, but that doesn’t change anything.”

  “What did Charlotte tell you?” Nora’s voice was surprisingly gentle. How could she be so calm while he stood there condemning us?

  “She said I had nothing to worry about, that certain genetic traits were only passed to the women of the family.” His face screwed up in a semblance of pain. “I don’t want my children brainwashed into believing they have a genetic malfunction.”

  Not even the townspeople treated us with such disrespect. I pointed to the door. “Your parents put a roof over my head for ten years, which might have given them an excuse to treat me like the poor orphan I was, but this is my house. You don’t get to barge in here and talk to me like this. You can leave. Now.”

  “No need to be inhospitable,” Nora said. “He’s only trying to protect his family.”

  I turned to Nora. “I’m his family. You’re his family. We haven’t done anything to invite this attack. He doesn’t even know us.”

  “That’s how prejudice works,” she said. “You know that as well as I do.”

  “I don’t have a prejudiced bone in my body,” Jason argued.

  “Then what are you afraid of?” Nora turned to me. “Didn’t you tell me he lived near Madison?” And then to him. “You drove an hour and a half just to disown the family you never see?”

  “Or maybe you came to see if we wear pointed hats and shoes with curled toes,” I added.

  Jason recoiled. “My job transferred me to Meadow Hill. My wife has it in mind to bring the family together even after I told her I’m not interested. She’s been to your little gift shop.”

  Jeannine had told me Jason’s wife was pregnant. I ran a mental movie of customers who’d been to the shop, trying to recall which of them were expecting. “Well, if that’s true, you may be assured she didn’t introduce herself.”

  A little gray ball of fur came racing down the staircase, leapt to the back of the sofa and onto my shoulder. Ash, my six-month-old kitten, nuzzled my head and purred in my ear. I took her off my shoulder and held her in my arms, allowing her to calm my nerves.

  Jason shook a finger at me. “My parents took you in.”

  “A fact they never let me forget, right up until I was eighteen and your mother kicked me out,” I shot back. “Then your mother tried to steal my inheritance.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “She wouldn’t.”

  “Ask your sister,” I said. “She was there.”

  “I don’t want you talking to my sister, either,” he added.

  “Your sister’s a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. Unlike you, she at least made an effort to be civil.”

  “Jason, would you like to sit down and discuss this? Have a cup of coffee?” Nora asked.

  I stifled a growl. “He doesn’t deserve good manners.”

  Ash wriggled out of my arms, trotted over to Jason and wove around his legs.

  I folded my arms. “Traitor.”

  She chirped in response, somewhere between a meow and a purr.

  I raised an eyebrow and Nora laughed.

  “You know, your father grew up in this house,” Nora said. “As did I and your aunt Charlotte. It’s Brynn’s house now. I’m recently married, you see, so I sold it to her. Would you like to see pictures of your father when he was younger? There are several family portraits in the stairwell.” She turned toward me. “Unless, of course, you’ve taken them down.”

  I shook my head.

  Nora walked to the staircase behind the living room wall, but Jason didn’t follow. Instead, he glowered at me. She reappeared moments later carrying a couple of the photos.

  “Your grandparents,” she pointed out. “And this is your father, standing with me and Charlotte.”

  Jason looked, but he didn’t take the pictures.

  “We were all close once. A family. Then people started getting married and moving away. Funny how that can change relationships, don’t you think?” She tilted her head. “You moved away when you got married, didn’t you?”

  Jason’s eyes grew narrow. “I moved for work.”

  “So did Brynn’s mother. So did your father.”

  Jason looked away.

  With another knock on the door, Ash went skittering to the sofa, where she kneaded a woven rug in the corner that was “her spot.”

  I opened the door to Kyle in his police uniform. “Your neighbor called.” He glanced over my shoulder at Jason. “She said she heard yelling over here. Thought I’d stop over and see if everything was okay.”

  I took his hand and drew him inside. “I was saving the news for dinner,” I told Nora, “but since he’s here now I might as well tell you Kyle and I are back together.”

  Nora’s dark blue eyes sparkled.

  I turned to Jason. “Kyle Jakes, this is my cousin, Jason Hanson.”

  Kyle shook Jason�
�s hand.

  Jason shifted his attention between me and Kyle. “It doesn’t bother you that she’s a witch?”

  Kyle straightened and adjusted his utility belt. “Ah, your aunt Theresa’s son.” He turned to me. “There’s an old saying about apples and trees that has me guessing he’s responsible for the shouting. Is there a problem?”

  I shook my head.

  He turned to Jason. “Brynn and Nora are respected members of this community. Is there a reason for your visit other than to harass these fine ladies?”

  “Stay away from my family,” Jason said one more time before he shouldered his way out the door.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Kyle asked, holding onto my hand.

  “Not sure what that would be. I guess he needed to get something off his chest,” I added with a touch of sarcasm.

  Kyle kissed me, then smiled. “I’ll see you for dinner.” He nodded to Nora and left.

  “Well, well, well.” Nora resumed her seat at the table. “Kyle bought the house? You’d think someone might have mentioned it to you sooner.”

  “I do my best to distance myself from the town gossip. They probably thought it would be funny when I found out,” I replied.

  ­“But why wouldn’t he say something?”

  I dropped into my seat. “We weren’t speaking, remember? And then he thought I’d be moving away after everything that happened over the summer. As he put it, it was time he grew up and bought a house of his own. Now that we’ve patched things up, he’s talking about flipping the house and moving in with me.”

  “Well, well, well,” she said again. “I imagine if he had any doubts about you before, Jason painted him a clear enough picture. I suppose you both know what you’re in for.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Kyle’s father always guessed about me, although we never talked about it when we were dating. I don’t doubt he mentioned something to Kyle, too, by way of a warning.”

  Kyle knew. While we hadn’t discussed my extra talents openly, we’d touched on the topic in our conversations and he’d reassured me he wasn’t frightened that I was ‘different.’ “Well, if Kyle wasn’t sure before, he’ll probably have questions at dinner tonight.”