Bloodlust

Bloodlust by Deborah O'Toole (aka Deidre Dalton) is Book #2 in the Bloodline Trilogy.

Noel and Pim's daughter Kate Grady has unusual powers which allow her to bend people to her will. At first she uses her gifts wisely, but then goes astray after falling in love with Kirk Lester. She finds herself honing her special powers to keep her place in Kirk's heart, no matter how evil or depraved life with him becomes.

From Chapter Fifteen

Chester, England

KATE AWOKE A few hours later. She lay on her back in the bed, hearing the sounds of rain hitting the window pane, and Kirk's light snoring. It was quiet otherwise, lulling her into a sense of security.

She rose from the bed slowly, so as not to awaken her husband. She smiled to herself. Using the term "husband" was new to her, but she was fast growing accustomed to it, and found she rather liked it. She loved every minute of being married to Kirk Lester so far, adoring every second of every day as his wife.

Kate went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of black jeans and dark blue sweater shirt. She ran her hands through her long hair and, still in her stocking feet, made her way downstairs.

As she reached the bottom of the steps, she heard the cookery noises coming from the back of the cottage, as if someone was moving around pots and pans, so she went along the narrow hallway located next to the staircase. She inhaled deeply, her nose filling with the aromas of baking poultry and steaming green vegetables. She realized she was hungry again, so her step quickened.

Kate stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a half-smile coming to her face as she saw Maura facing an antique stove, stirring the steaming contents of a tall, silver pot. Kate gazed at the stove, not sure if he had seen anything like it ever before. It was white and black cast iron, with an overhanging hood element and flat stove surface. The word "Barstow" was etched on the rounded oven door in flowing Edwardian script, it's handle a shiny silver. On either side of the stove was a copper storage tank, and a cast iron water heater. The appliance filled the kitchen with an almost uncomfortable warmth, but mingled with the smells of cooking food, was somehow irresistible.

She let her eyes take in the remainder of the cozy kitchen. The floor was a shiny, dark hardwood with colorful throw rugs scattered her and there. A large, round oak table adorned the middle of the room, the centerpiece being a bundle of dried autumn and winter flowers - including daisies, jasmine, pansies, English primrose and viola - surrounded by four chairs with cushions, done in dark red and white patterns for the season.

The back of the room had a long counter space, with a window above the deep double sink that overlooked the rear garden. One side of the room had more counter space and cupboards, with a white washer and dryer flush against the cabinets, which was alongside a small, white refrigerator. Kate shook her head, wondering why Maura had such a tiny fridge when all else was custom-sized.

To the left side of the room, covering the entire wall, were rows upon rows of small cubby holes with tiny sliding glass doors. Each cubby seemed to blend into the dark wood wall, recessed slightly to maximize the space. Kate could see white horizontal labels affixed to the glass doors, with handwriting on each. To the side of the cubbies was a small, tin black box with a shimmering blue-white moon adorning the lid.

"You're admiring my herb and spice collection?" Maura's kind voice startled Kate from her quiet observations.

Kate blushed at being caught out, and then turned to Maura, who had come to stand next to her.

"Is that what the cubby holes are for?" Kate wanted to know. "I was wondering about that. The storage is so unique. Did you have it specially built?"

"This cottage is nearly two hundred years old," Maura replied. "When I bought it back in 1963, the cubby hole storage was already in place. The prior occupant was a practicing witch, and she kept all of her herb mixes here in the kitchen. I have to admit, I was fascinated and it was one of the main reasons I decided to buy the place. That, and it was so close to my flower shop."

"A witch used to live here?" Kate asked, surprise written on her face.

Maura nodded, a slight smile playing about her lips. "Yes, indeed. Her name was Marigold Meriwether. She was as old as the hills, and just a tiny little thing with long, flowing silver hair. She lived here with her four cats, and spent her time concocting herbal remedies for various medical conditions and spice mixtures for different times of life. I heard she used to have weekly meetings in the cottage for like-minded women - and some men - who were interested in the wiccan way of life. She lived to be over one hundred years old, I believe. She died right here in the cottage, sitting in her favorite chair in the living room." She waved her hand in the direction of the cubby wall. "I've been making my own herb and spice blends for years, since I was a young girl actually, so this set-up was absolutely perfect for me."

"It's very impressive," Kate stated. "And the history behind it is fascinating."

"Thank you." Maura stared at Kate. "Did you get enough rest, dearie?"

Kate nodded. "I'm good for now. Kirk was still sleeping, so I let him be."

"I'm working on dinner," Maura said as she returned to the stove. "We're having baked chicken and steamed green beans. It should be ready in about an hour."

"Can I help with anything?"

"No, dearie. I'm fine." She looked over her shoulder at Kate from her place by the stove. "Feel free to look over my collection some more, if you want."

"Thank you," Kate smiled. "I'm fascinated by it, but not sure why."

"My little cubbies are quite unique, I have to admit."

Kate returned her attention to the wall. She went over to the tin box and opened the lid, seeing a stack of empty cloth pouches, small in size, each with a gold-braised drawstring. "What are these for?" she asked, holding up one of the pouches so Maura could see it.

"I use those to keep my assembled herb and spice mixtures dry," Maura replied.

Kate placed the empty pouch back in to the box and closed the lid. Next, she mentally counted six rows of cubbies on the wall, with eleven cubby holes on each row. Using quick addition in her head, she figured it represented sixty-six cubbies in total. Up close, she saw that each cubby included a semi-frosted sliding door with a protruding handle and label, and inside the muted green-tinted bottles had corkscrew tops, each one also containing a handwritten label. She opened the first cubby on the third row at random, pulling out the small, corked bottle inside.             It contained ground and dried nettle leaves, according to the label.

"What do you use dried nettles for?" Kate asked aloud, highly curious.

"Ground nettle leaves are good for flushing away toxins in the body," Maura responded without turning from the stove. "I sometimes mix it with mandrake root, both of which can be boiled and served just like tea." She chuckled. "Call it crazy, but I've been told  the combination is also good for driving out ghostly spirits from your house."

Kate laughed as she uncorked the bottle, taking a whiff of its contents. "It has a faint smell of mint." She winked. "Maybe the ghosts don't like the minty aroma."

"Yes," Maura agreed. "Nettles are also good for allergies and hay fever. When moistened, they can be used as a poultice and placed on the scalp to promote hair growth, or to calm itchy skin during eczema outbreaks. The fresh leaves can also be applied to rheumatic joints to obtain relief from the pain."

"Where do you get the herbs?" Kate asked in wonder as she re-corked the bottle and placed it back into its cubby.

"I grow my own, in the back garden. Once the weather improves, I can show you all of it. Most of them are lying dormant right now because we're in the winter season, but they grow quite plentiful during spring and summer every year, giving me a good supply all year long."

"This is an amazing collection," Kate observed as she turned to face Maura. "Do you use all of it for medicinal purposes?"

Maura shook her head. "I use some of them for cooking, but do admit to using most of them for . . . well, I'm embarrassed to say . . . but I use them for superstitious cure-alls and protections. Silly, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Kate disagreed. "I find it very interesting. How do you know which combinations of herbs and spices to use in producing the cure-alls?"

Using her forefinger, Maura tapped her temple. "It's all up here."

"You should write it down," Kate suggested. "You know, what herb or spice combination produces which result. I'd be glad to help you with it."

"Splendid," Maura said with obvious delight. "I've been meaning to organize it all for many years, but never got around to it. I would greatly appreciate the help."

With a s light smile n her face, Kate set the kitchen table for three, using plates from a cupboard near the sink. "Maybe I should wake Kirk now," she mused. "I'm sure he'll be famished after his long nap."

"You two will be as right as rain after a few days rest," Maura predicted as she removed the pan of baked chicken from the oven. "Young people always spring back quickly."

Kirk joined them presently, his sleepy eyes finding his wife and his face lighting at the sight of her. She went to him, kissing him and placing her arm around his waist. Maura watched them, her smile warm.

As they sat down to the meal, Kate asked more questions about Maura's herb and spice collection.

"When did you start keeping it?"

"As I told you, I've been keeping it together for years. It was something my mother had always done, so me and my sister Elizabeth - your grandmother, Kirk - just carried it on. So, I suppose, I've been doing it my entire life, essentially. Elizabeth lost interest after awhile, but I kept growing my collection and keeping it fresh. Today's display is the result of all those years of care, I'm proud to say."

"Fascinating," Kirk mumbled as he bit into a chicken drumstick.

Kate looked at Maura and rolled her eyes. The older woman chuckled, and then returned her attention to the meal.

Kate smiled as she continued eating. She felt drawn not only to Maura, but to her odd collection of cure-alls as well. Perhaps the first was understandable as Maura was a warm and caring person, so no mystery there, but the fascination for her collection was another thing entirely.

She chalked it down to delaying the inevitable. She knew her parents would be frantic with worry right now, and she didn't want to think about it, did not want to plague her consciousness with feelings of guilt. Part of her still believed the present situation was their fault, although now - with some distance between them - she understood why they had restricted her from seeing Kirk. In a nutshell, Pim and Noel Grady thought their daughter was too young to be seriously involved, and they had fearful reservations about Kirk's father based on dreams had by Noel and Madge Tilley.

In the moment, Kate was happy and content. She would face the underlying reasons for her presence in Chester at another time.

Not now, but later.