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  RoadBlock

  Copyright © 2013 By Amelia Bishop

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical reviews, or any other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real events, places, or characters is completely coincidental.

  1.

  There was a steady thumping somewhere, loud enough to cut through Dagger’s peaceful dream. He cracked his eyelids open, knowing it was earlier than he wanted it to be. A glance at the clock on his bedside table told him his instinct was correct- eight thirty. What kind of whack-job chops wood, or pounds nails, or whatever the hell that noise was at eight thirty on a Saturday morning? Dagger laid in the warmth of his blankets for another half hour, but he couldn’t get back to sleep with those thuds echoing through his bedroom. It was definitely coming from outside, probably someone had moved in to the old cottage next door. It would most likely mean a new coven member, as well, and Dagger hoped it would be someone he could tolerate as a neighbor.

  The last occupant of the old beachfront cottage was Calvin Riley, an elderly witch with some skills at water manipulation, whom Dagger had been very fond of. Five years had passed since Calvin had died in his sleep, and Dagger had been glad no one else had moved right in. It was a little sad to think of anyone besides Calvin working in the cottage’s old gardens, or sitting on the creaky front porch in the evenings.

  Dagger sighed and pulled himself out of bed, dragging a hand over his tired eyes and rubbing the sleep away. He should never have stayed up so late last night. He’d accomplished nothing, anyway, besides a cryptic phone conversation with his mother and a tenth viewing of ‘Gladiator’.

  Looking out his bedroom window provided him a glimpse of the new neighbors. A good looking couple, probably about his age, early thirties he’d guess. The woman was short and curvy, and wore a long flowing flower-print skirt and a tunic with rune symbols printed on the back. Dagger rolled his eyes at her stereotypical ‘witchy’ clothes. Definitely new coven members as well, then. The man was bent over the old porch, replacing boards, it looked like. He was more difficult to see, but his jeans-clad legs looked strong and muscular as he stretched back to grab another two by four and began hammering again. A large moving van was parked along the side of the house, and Dagger wondered when they’d rolled in, and why he hadn’t noticed the van there last night.

  After half a pot of coffee and a bowl of cold cereal, the pounding was still echoing through Dagger’s house. He clicked off the television and reluctantly trudged into his bedroom to get dressed. Introducing himself to his new neighbors and offering his help with their renovations was the right thing to do, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do on a beautiful Saturday in August. But Dagger had been living in this tiny three-house ‘neighborhood’ at the end of the old cliff-road completely alone since the day he’d gone to check on Calvin and found him dead in his bed. The only other house down here besides his and Calvin’s old cottage was a decrepit bungalow that was not fit for habitation by anything other than the pack of squirrels which had claimed it. It wouldn’t hurt to get to know his new companions.

  As Dagger walked up the gravel path towards his new neighbors, he heard them talking softly. “Cal, I just think you should do another reading, double check. That won’t hurt anything. Just do it for me, please? Goddess, I hope you’re wrong about this one.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Just double check, okay?”

  “Somebody’s here.”

  Dagger cleared his throat, embarrassed to have overheard their conversation. “Um, hello! I’m Dagger,” He gestured towards his house, “your next door neighbor. Welcome to our little ’hood.”

  “Oh! Oh, Hi! Did the hammering bother you? I thought we should wait a little, but Cal said it was too big of a job to wait until after noon to start, and we really can’t do much moving in until this porch is fit for walking on. Oh! Sorry, I’m Betony, and this is my brother, Calderon. ‘Dagger’, did you say? What a nice name! Have you lived here long? Its so pretty here, this view is really great!”

  Dagger smiled at the verbal onslaught. “Yes, I’ve been here my whole life. My parents moved away ten years ago, went to the Caribbean. So I’ve had the house to myself since then. The hammering was fine, I don’t blame your brother. Actually, I came to see if you might need a hand? I’d be glad to help out.”

  “That is so nice of you! I don’t know….Cal?” Betony turned towards her brother, who was still crouched over a board, struggling to wrench out a bent nail from a rotten plank of decking. He freed the nail and the timber came loose as well, rattling loudly against the porch floor as it slid from his grip. He brushed his hands on the front of his pants and turned towards them, standing up straight as he did so.

  The moment Dagger saw his face he froze, mouth hanging slightly open in shameless admiration. The man was perfect. It struck Dagger that every man he had dated in his life had been a poor imitation of Calderon. His hair was black, shiny and straight, falling almost to his shoulders in a style that might have seemed feminine if it had not been for the extremely masculine face it framed. His shoulders were broad and the thin cotton t-shirt he wore stretched over a lean but muscular chest. His faded jeans hugged his thighs enough to clearly show the strength there as well.

  Dagger brought his eyes back up to Calderon’s face to find a small smile playing on his lips and his hazel eyes sparkling. Shaking himself, Dagger closed his mouth and stuttered an apology for his wanton appraisal, but Calderon just smiled and reached out a strong, if dirty, hand in greeting. Dagger shook it and returned the smile, feeling more than a little embarrassed.

  “So, how about I help you with this porch?”

  “If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.”

  Dagger smiled again, bending down to pick up the board that Calderon had dropped. “Not at all, just tell me what to do.”

  Betony was watching them with a huge grin on her face, but neither man had spared her a glance. She chuckled a little to herself and picked her way across the half-finished porch, darting inside to finish her cleaning. The two men were soon hammering away, and once in a while she heard her brother’s deep voice telling Dagger how to proceed with the repairs. She smiled to herself as she wiped the shelves and cabinets down with lavender and mint scented water.

  Calderon had told her he’d find a man here who would change things for him, who would steer the rest of his life. It made Betony uncomfortable, the whole idea being a little too close to a fated-mate type of thing for her taste. But Cal was a seer, and he rarely misinterpreted signs. If he said they were here for a man he needed, she believed him. It seemed to Betony that their neighbor, Dagger, was most definitely this man. Her brother was handsome, but she’d never seen anyone look at him quite the way Dagger just had. The thought pleased her- Cal deserved to be happy.

  Betony was less pleased with the prospect of her own ‘partner’, whom Cal had also foreseen. She had already met the man, and was not impressed. He had stirred something in her, for sure, but she couldn’t ignore the internal warnings he also set off. Worse, she had agreed to meet with him again tomorrow evening, against her better judgment. Betony sighed, dipping her sponge into the graying water and moving on to the next cabinet. She had promised Calderon she would get to know the man he’d pointed out to her, and so she would. But getting to know him and dating him were two very different things, a fact she would be sure to remind them both of tomorrow.

  2.

  Calderon handed over another board, and steadied it while Dagger nailed it down. A few m
ore and the porch would be done. Cal had caught Dagger staring at him a few times, although he’d pretended not to notice. The thought that his handsome neighbor found him attractive made Calderon’s heart race and the skin on his neck flush. He was also slightly disconcerted to realize he could foresee nothing when it came to this man. Mostly, his ability to read signs and symbols allowed him to know what a person would do, how they would act, at least in the most general sense. But aside from knowing Dagger was meant to be in his life, he found it impossible to determine what might happen next between them. And without that information, he felt paralyzed. He hated to admit how much he relied on his gift.

  “Hey, looks like that’s it! This porch hasn’t looked this good in twenty years, I’d bet.”

  Calderon nodded at Dagger’s comment and looked around. It was clearly not a new porch, but it looked sturdy and clean, and would serve well for many years. The job had gone a lot faster once Dagger had shown up, a development he hadn’t seen coming. Cal sighed, looking over his new neighbor, and most likely his soon-to-be lover. He was different from the men Cal usually chose, slimmer, more lanky. Calderon had mostly picked more muscled, alpha-types. Dagger was strong, but slender, and easily as tall as Cal. His hair was brown, short, and his skin was tanned bronze, evidence of many days in the sun. His warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and his manner was easy and relaxed. If Cal had to guess, he’d say that Dagger was most likely a surfer, just by the way he moved.

  “Thanks for your help, Dagger. This went a lot faster with you here. I’m sorry I can’t offer you a drink, we don’t have anything moved in yet.”

  “Hey, that’s all right. I’ll go grab a few beers from my place! You think your sister wants one?”

  “Yeah, probably. Thanks!”

  Dagger jogged across the street and returned a few moments later, carrying three bottles of beer and an opener. He opened one and passed it to Calderon, then walked towards the open door, peeking inside to find Betony unpacking dishes and placing them into an open cabinet. “Hey, Betony? Want a beer? We’re all done out here.”

  “Oh! Thanks, Dagger! That went quickly. Yeah, a beer sounds great, but could you leave it right here? I want to finish up a few more boxes before I take a break.”

  “Sure, here you go!” Dagger left the open bottle on the counter and went back outside to join Calderon on the steps. They sat in silence for a few moments, Dagger watching Cal as he drank. Finally Cal felt he had to say something. Dagger’s knee was brushing against his in an open flirtation, and his sidelong looks were pretty obvious. Cal definitely felt the same attraction, but he just wasn’t the type to flirt. Even with all Dagger’s cues he felt a little nervous saying anything. If he hadn’t been sure that Dagger was meant to be in his life he probably would have waited him out, letting the flirting go on until Dagger made a move. He opened his mouth to say something, but Dagger beat him to it.

  “So, what made you move here?”

  “Well, actually…you did.”

  “What?”

  Calderon took a deep breath to explain. “Well, I’m a seer, usually, and all the signs pointed to here, this coven, this neighborhood, and even this house. I knew I’d meet someone here who was…important for me to know. A partner, I guess. When I saw you, I knew you were that person. So I guess I’m here for you.”

  “Oh. I see.” He was quiet for a few minutes, considering. “You covered it well, when we met. I felt like I was the one gawking at you, not like you were seeing anything interesting in me.”

  Calderon laughed, “I saw you last night. Your front window drapes were open, and I could see in, saw you walking around, talking on the phone. I guess I had the same look on my face then that you gave me today. I thought you were really hot.” He felt his face grow warm, and he had to look down. What had come over him? Cal never talked like that!

  “Yeah? Well, okay then, that makes me feel better.” Dagger was smiling now, looking at Cal and noticing his obvious discomfort. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said as he bumped his shoulders against Cal’s, “You already know I think you’re hot.”

  Cal smiled at that, and lifted his eyes briefly to Dagger’s face. The warm smile he found there reassured him, and he felt the blush fading from his cheeks.

  “Do you…are you seeing anyone? A boyfriend?” Cal winced as he said it, worried about how awkward he sounded as much as the possible response.

  “No. No boyfriend at the moment. Which is great because this really sexy guy just moved in across the street.” Dagger smiled playfully at Cal, who was laughing softly, relieved at Dagger’s lighthearted response.

  Calderon stretched out his legs and then got up, downing the last gulp of beer from his bottle. “Let’s go in and check on Bet.”

  They walked into the small kitchen, to find Betony standing on the counter, holding the top edge of the cabinets with one hand and stretching her other hand along the inside edge of the cupboard. The top of her head was brushing the ceiling, and her skirt swayed over the countertop. “Betony! Be careful!” Calderon rushed up to steady her, but she waved him away.

  “I’m fine, Cal. There’s something here…a box I think. But it’s stuck. Hold on…”

  With a little pop, the box sprung free and Betony stumbled back, almost toppling off the counter. She caught herself, jumping down from the countertop gracefully, and Cal gave her a look of exasperation. It was a miracle she didn’t get hurt more often, with the risks she took. But as usual, Bet landed on her feet and once again Cal was left looking like an overprotective big brother. She placed the little box on top of the butcher-block island and they all looked at it.

  “It’s a charm box! Should I open it?” Betony looked to Calderon questioningly, relying on his foresight for guidance as she usually did when she was unsure.

  “Not yet. Let’s check it for marks first…see if we can determine what kind of charm it is, or was.”

  Betony turned the box over in her hands, rubbing her fingers all over it, trying to feel for etchings or raised markings. It was old, and had been painted along with the interior of the cabinet at some point. The bottom was clean, and looked to be made of rough wood, but the sides were covered in thick beige paint. No markings were visible. Betony scraped the paint off of the tiny metal hinges, and along the seam which allowed the top to open, then she turned to her brother with a raised brow.

  “I think it’s fine, Bet. I don’t get any feelings from it at all, so it’s probably just really old. Go ahead.”

  Betony wasted no time. Her skill was charms and potions, and she was curious to see what this little box held. It was probable that any organic material would be dust by now, but there might be stones or bones, or other preserved items that might help her reconstruct the charm’s original purpose. The lid took some coaxing, but it finally popped open, and Betony examined the contents of the box with all the seriousness of an archaeologist. She rummaged through her large handbag which was slung over the pantry doorknob until she found a pair of tweezers, and used the tool to pluck items out of the mysterious little box, laying them out carefully on the island. A light blue stone, a small block of wood etched with symbols and numbers, a shriveled something that might have once been a garlic clove. A small pile of powdered herbs remained in the box, and Betony sniffed at them carefully.

  “It’s a long life charm! To combat illness, and prolong lifespan. Who lived here before? Was he sick?” She looked to Dagger for an answer.

  “Well, I didn’t think he was sick… His name was Calvin. He was a really nice man… he could control water a little, but he was pretty old. He lived here my whole life. Died about five years ago. I came to check on him when I hadn’t seen him for a few days, and I found him in his bed. They said it was just old age, not a disease.”

  “Do you have any idea how old he was?”

  “No. My parents might…I could call them. Why? How long would a charm like this buy him? Years?”

  “Yeah, it could. Depends on w
hat he was battling. If it was something serious, like cancer, he’d get an extra few months, maybe a year. But if it was nothing too bad, something like a weak heart, or diabetes, and if he took care of himself…this might get him years. If he wasn’t sick at all, just wanted a longer life? Decades. This is a strong charm, probably keyed specifically to him. Who does charm-work for your coven?”

  “Umm, nobody right now. I mean, we all do, to an extent, you know. But no one’s an expert. But you are, right? That’s your gift?”

  Betony smiled at the hope and excitement in Dagger’s voice. A charm maker was an asset to a coven, and without one they probably felt vulnerable. “Yes, that’s my skill. Our old coven had three, including me. I’m glad that I’ll be needed here! So…that means this is pretty old. When did the charm maker leave?”

  “She died, in an accident, she was fairly young. Her two daughters are still in the coven, but neither of them have her skill with charms. One can do potions. When she died I was maybe twelve? Thirteen? I don’t remember all the details. She must have been in her forties.”

  “So this was made at least, what? Fifteen years ago? Maybe more?”

  “Yeah, probably closer to twenty years ago, or longer.”

  “Hmm. I wonder why he did it? And why she helped him…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, this type of charm, it’s not unheard of, and there’s nothing wrong with making one. It’s just sort of a gray area. It messes with the natural order, a little. Usually, though, if it’s done to give a dying person time with their family, or time to finish something important…it’s totally fine. But if he had it made at least twenty years before he died, and you say he was already very old, then he probably used it just to extend his natural life. So I’m wondering, why? What did he have to stick around for? You said he lived alone, he was kind, you liked him…but he must have been doing something that was important enough that he needed to live, and your coven’s charm maker agreed. In fact, it’s most likely the reason she died young. A trade off, so to speak.”