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  Catalpa’s Curse

  The Willoughby Witches

  (Book Three)

  by

  Terri Reid

  Catalpa’s Curse

  The Willoughby Witches (Book Three)

  by Terri Reid

  Copyright © 2019 by Terri Reid

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  The author would like to thank all those who have contributed to the creation of this book: Richard Reid, Sarah Reid, Peggy Hannah, Mickey Claus, Terrie Snyder, and Ruth Ann Mulnix. And especially to the wonderful readers who are starting this whole new adventure with me, thank you all!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Chapter Fifty-four

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  Chapter Sixty

  The End

  Chapter One

  Catalpa Willoughby, the eldest of the Willoughby sisters, sat on a large, intricately embroidered pillow in the corner of the sunroom, her legs folded in a Lotus position, her hands resting lightly on her knees with her thumb and index finger lightly touching each other. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was deep and slow. The mantra she was mouthing was ancient and powerful, as her mind explored the realms of the unknown.

  She was drifting in a sea of gray, but she felt no fear. Her body was relaxed and calm, her thoughts were open, and she felt herself falling further and further into the vastness of her mind. She could see a light in the distance, and she moved towards it. Enlightenment, that’s what she needed. The light changed the gray to blue, and she could see a shadowy figure in the distance. She watched him approach, but she could not see him clearly. He stopped and gazed at her.

  “It has been a long while since we have spoken, little one,” he said with kindness.

  “I’m sorry,” her mind replied. “I have been busy and have not had time for meditation and reflection.”

  “You mean you have not taken time,” he gently chastised. “Although, you of all people realize how important this is to your energy.”

  She nodded. “I neglected it, and now I feel the loss.”

  He paused for a moment, studying her. “And you feel more than loss, you feel pain,” he said softly. “Your heart has been changed.”

  She felt tears springing beneath her closed eyelids, and she nodded. “This has been a painful, yet also joyful, time for our family.”

  “The joy you feel is for others,” he replied. “And the pain, that is your pain to bear.”

  She sighed. “I am strong,” she said. “I can handle a little disappointment.”

  “This path you are now taking will bring more than a little disappointment,” he counseled. “You need not bear the burden by yourself.”

  “Do you speak of the sorrow in my life?” she asked.

  He was silent for a moment. “There is sorrow, yes,” he replied. “But I also see a darker path. There will be death.”

  She immediately thought of Donovan and, like a magician, suddenly his image was before her too.

  “You worry about this one,” the shadow man said.

  She shrugged in her mind, and the action was also copied by her body. “He is one I loved once,” she replied, trying to be casual. “Of course, I worry a little.”

  She could hear the soft laughter and the disbelief. “You are safe here in your journey, little one,” he said. “You do not need to lie.”

  “I do not lie,” she replied forcefully.

  He was silent for a long moment. “Ah, so now I see,” he finally said. “You lie to yourself, not me.”

  She shook her head. “I do not lie,” she insisted.

  “You must be wary, little one,” the shadow said. “If you do not understand your own heart and your own mind, they can be used as weapons against you.”

  “He does not love me,” she said harshly.

  “Just because love is not reciprocated does not mean it does not exist,” he replied gently. “Although, one-sided love is a burden to carry rather than wings to lift.”

  “What kind of person am I who loves where there is no hope?” she whispered. “Who believes when there can be no trust?”

  “You have a generous and tender heart, Catalpa,” he said. “And although you try to deny it, it is your strongest weapon and your greatest weakness.”

  “It is my curse,” she whispered. “To love and not be loved.”

  He shook his head. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “Or perhaps you have yet to find the courage to use your strongest weapon in your journey.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “How should I use it?”

  “That, my little one, is a decision that only you can make,” he replied, and then he faded into the blue-gray shadows around her.

  Chapter Two

  Police Chief Joseph Norwalk stood at the curb, outside of the station,
watching the black Suburban move slowly down the street. He had always been a suspicious person, it came with being in law enforcement, but after the experiences that had transpired in the last few months with the Willoughby family, he was even more guarded. A dark car, one that he’d never seen before, sent him into full alert.

  He watched the Suburban slow and pull into the parking lot of a Bed and Breakfast on the corner of Center Street and Fremont. He rolled back slightly on his heels; it was probably about time he visited the B&B to ask them about their updated security procedures, he decided. He turned toward his cruiser and stopped.

  “Damn,” he muttered as Donovan Farrington came walking towards him.

  “What’s up?” Donovan asked, peering down the road towards the B&B.

  “Nothing,” Joseph replied immediately, leaning casually against a light pole. “What’s up with you?”

  Donovan studied Joseph for a moment and shook his head. “I watched you looking down the street,” he accused. “You were staring at something.”

  Joseph shrugged. “Police business,” he replied easily, pushing himself away from the pole and moving around Donovan.

  Reaching out, Donovan grabbed Joseph’s arm to stop him. “You will answer me,” Donovan growled, his eyes blazing with power.

  Joseph stared back, his amber eyes glowing with equal power. “You forget that I’m not one of your stooges, Donovan,” he warned. “That’s not a good thing to forget.”

  “You forget who you are dealing with now,” Donovan replied. “With the power…”

  “The Master’s power?” Joseph interrupted. “Who’s controlling who, Donovan?”

  Like he was scalded, Donovan released Joseph’s arm and stumbled back, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head to clear it. “I shouldn’t have…”

  “You shouldn’t have made a deal with the Master,” Joseph said.

  “I can control it,” Donovan said, his voice lowered. “I’m fine. I’m just not used to it.”

  “It’s already been three weeks since the ceremony,” Joseph whispered urgently. “And I can already see the change in you. You’ve got to break the connection.”

  “I can’t,” Donovan said. “It’s the only way to save Cat.”

  Joseph shook his head. “No, that’s not true, and you know it,” he said. “He’s using you and your connection to the Willoughbys to defeat them. You’re his best weapon.”

  “The hell I am,” Donovan replied harshly. “I’m doing this for them.”

  Joseph laughed mirthlessly and shook his head. “And that’s just what he wants you to believe,” he said. “In the meantime, stay out of my police investigations because I don’t trust you.”

  He started to walk away when Donovan grabbed his arm again.

  “I’m on your side,” Donovan insisted.

  Joseph stared down at Donovan’s hand and then looked up into his eyes.

  “Then cut the connection,” Joseph insisted.

  Donovan shook his head, his eyes pleading for understanding.

  “You don’t understand,” Donovan replied. “It’s not that simple.”

  “No, see, you don’t understand,” Joseph said, turning and facing him. “You think you can control a being who is ancient and powerful. Who knows every trick in the book. Hell, he probably wrote the book. He is using you, just liked he used Bates. And as soon as he was done with Bates, he killed him. Why do you think he’d be any different with you?”

  “Because I’m not Bates,” Donovan insisted. “I’m special. I have more power than Bates ever had. The Master sees so much potential…”

  Joseph grabbed Donovan’s upper arms and shook him. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” he exclaimed. “He’s already in your head. He’s already playing you.”

  Donovan ripped himself out of Joseph’s grip and stepped back. “No,” he said, shaking his head in confusion. “No. He’s not. I’m fine. I’m helping.”

  Joseph sighed softly. “I think you’re a good man, Donovan,” he said. “I think you started with pure intentions. But I think you are way in over your head. If you need help to get out, I’ll be there for you, man. I promise.”

  “I can handle this,” Donovan replied fiercely. “I don’t need your help.” He turned and stormed down the street while Joseph watched him.

  “Damn it,” Joseph whispered. “Be careful, man.”

  Chapter Three

  “Incoming!” Hazel Willoughby screamed as she rushed through the back door, across the kitchen to the powder room. She darted inside and slammed the door behind her.

  Agnes Willoughby, Hazel’s mother, sighed, shook her head fondly, and went back to chopping the herbs on her counter. “I remember those days,” she said.

  Rowan picked up the chopped herbs and laid them carefully in dehydrator trays. “Fondly?” she asked.

  “No,” Agnes said. “Morning sickness is not something anyone enjoys or remembers fondly.”

  The toilet flushed, and Hazel staggered out of the bathroom, sliding into a chair next to the kitchen table and laid her head on her folded arms. “I think I’m dying,” she moaned.

  “What was it this time?” Rowan asked, walking across the room to sit down next to her sister.

  “The grain for the goats,” Hazel groaned. “I always loved that smell, but this morning…” She placed her hand over her mouth and moaned.

  Poor baby,” Rowan said sympathetically. “How about some tea?”

  Her face still buried in her arms, Hazel shook her head. “I’ll just projectile vomit it across the room.”

  “Well, that’s a pretty mental picture,” Catalpa said as she entered the kitchen from the great room.

  Hazel lifted her head slightly and glared at her older sister. “Don’t mock the pregnant sister,” she said. “Someday this could be you.”

  Catalpa felt the swift piercing of her heart but didn’t let the pain of the remark show on her face. “You’re right,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

  Immediately contrite, Hazel stood up and walked over to Catalpa. “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “Please don’t be sad.”

  Catalpa took a deep breath and smiled again, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m okay,” she shrugged. “I’m just still learning how to deal, okay?”

  Hazel put her arms around her sister and hugged her. “Okay,” she said. “Take your time dealing. We’re all here for you.”

  Cat smiled and placed a kiss on her sister’s forehead. “Thank you,” she replied. “And I highly recommend Rowan’s tea; it will make you feel better immediately.”

  Hazel looked over her shoulder at Rowan. “Immediately?” she asked.

  Rowan nodded and grinned. “It’s practically magic,” she teased.

  Hazel sighed. “I hope so,” she said. “I really need to concentrate on something other than puking.”

  Catalpa walked Hazel back to the table, while Rowan stood up and filled the teapot with water. Agnes studied Catalpa, and her heart broke for her eldest daughter. Loving Donovan and losing him years ago had been hard enough, but finding him again and believing him, only to lose him once more, had been even harder.

  “You know, he could be telling the truth,” Agnes finally said. “He could be on our side.”

  Cat looked over at her mother and nodded. “He could be,” she said. “But we really can’t afford to trust him, can we? Especially now that he’s accepted the…”

  “Mosquito,” Hazel inserted. “Remember, we don’t want to draw him towards us by using his name.”

  Cat nodded. “Especially now that he’s the mosquito’s right-hand man.”

  “He said he was doing that only because he could protect us,” Agnes reminded her.

  “Then he’s an idiot,” Cat replied. “He can’t outmaneuver an ancient demon. I’ve tried to tell him.”

  “But he won’t listen because he wants to protect you,” Agnes said.

  “Protect all of us,” Cat said. “If we can believe h
im, he wants to protect all of us because we were the only family he ever had.”

  “And if we can’t believe him,” Rowan said.

  Cat looked across the room and met her sister’s gaze. “If we can’t believe him and he is on the other side, then he will use every emotional attachment he has with us,” she said candidly. “And I know that I’m the most vulnerable because I really want to believe him.”

  Chapter Four

  The black Suburban pulled into the farthest opening in the lot. After a moment, the door opened, and a tall, black man stepped out of the vehicle. Finias Bailey’s dark suit jacket fit tautly over his broad shoulders and muscular arms. The sun glistened off his bald head before he slipped on a black fedora. Then, reaching into the vehicle, he pulled out a leather briefcase and placed it on the driver’s seat. Opening it, he examined the identification he was going to be using on this trip. Ellis Thomas, he repeated in his mind. Ellis Thomas. He placed the fake driver’s license and credit cards into his wallet and put his true identification and credit cards into the briefcase. Then he sealed the case, clicking down on the small lock, pulled the briefcase out of the car, and closed the car door.

  He walked along the side of the old Victorian Mansion and jogged up the porch steps to enter the home at the front lobby. The innkeeper, Katie Flanders, was waiting at the reception desk to meet him.

  “Mr. Thomas, Ellis Thomas?” she asked, slightly awed by his large stature.

  “Yes, good afternoon. You have a lovely home,” his genteel response calmed her nerves immediately.

  “Thank you,” she replied with a smile. “We love it. I’m Katie Flanders, the owner.” She glanced down at her computer and then back up at him in surprise. “You booked the entire second floor. Is there someone else with you?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “No, I just prefer my solitude,” he said. “Will that be a problem?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not,” she replied, handing him his keys. “Can I help you with your luggage?”

  He took the keys and then encompassed her hand in his own. “I would not think of having you carry anything for me,” he replied with a gallant nod. “I can see to my things. But if you would be so kind as to show me to my room…”