Rituals and the Restless Remains (Ebook)

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Format: Ebook
Length: 45,368 Words
Publication Date: August 15, 2025
Publisher: Alorium Publishing

SPOILER ALERT: This sample may reveal secrets from earlier books in the series. If you're new to Point Pleasant, you might want to start at the beginning!

My muscles strained as I hoisted a wooden booth up from the wooden floor of the Bizzy Bean Cafe. Megan grunted next to me as we took a faltering step backward. The wood dug into my fingertips as it dipped down on the side.

“Steady,” I said.

The Retirees let out a slew of curses under their breath as they struggled to keep it upright.

“A little bit more to the left.” Heather stepped up next to the Retirees and lifted with them.

With the four of them on one side and Megan and me on the other, the large wooden monstrosity leveled out, and we shuffled back a few more inches. My back hit the surround, and my arms shook as Megan slipped out from her position so that we could nudge it the last two inches into place. As we set the wooden booth down, I slumped back into the hidden alcove behind it and let out a shaky breath. I ducked down and crawled out from behind the booth, my fingers tracing the metal strip embedded into the floor. Strip was probably the wrong word. It was more like a braid. Thin strands of silver, gold, and iron wound around each other were set into the wood. I scampered out, dusted off my knees, and turned in place to admire our work.

Over the last week, we had replaced every table at the Bizzy Bean with ones custom built by Megan. Each table had flowers and crystals spread over them in an artistic pattern, with resin over the top to keep it all in place. The epoxy gleamed under the lights, with little flecks of yellow mica suspended in the mix. The tables were beautiful. And the crowning jewel of the whole space was the massive booth at the back of the room. We had pulled out two booths and replaced it with one large enough for our entire coven to sit down at the same time. It had the same resin countertop as the other tables, but we had taken a step further with it. A ring of metal surrounded it, embedded into the floor, and hidden under that at each of the corners was a small pocket that hid mercury thermometers. It was a space specifically designed for us to be able to meet and cast spells without the rest of the cafe noticing. And it was gorgeous.

“I love it,” I whispered.

Megan ducked her head. In the back of my mind, through our coven bond, I could sense her happiness. But she was too humble to ever acknowledge her good work. She had spent the better part of six months working with Heather, handcrafting everything there to meet the Bizzy Bean aesthetic while still being useful for our magical purposes.

I bumped her with my hip. “We should test it.”

Agnes groaned behind me. “Can’t that wait until tomorrow? All this physical labor is exhausting.”

“Dani’s right. We might as well get it out of the way,” Betty grumbled. “Otherwise, I’m going to be dreaming about moving tables around.”

“I offer myself up as the first test subject.” Sarah flopped into a chair at a neighboring table and waved her hand at the booth. “Go. Practice. And if I don’t hear anything suspicious, we’ll know it’s good.”

The rest of us shuffled into the booth. Betty slid in first, scooting around to the center, and stared out at the room. I took the last seat, facing Heather. I shifted in my seat to see the rest of the room. The Bizzy Bean had changed a lot since I moved across Washington state to Point Pleasant about a year before. Heather had changed it into a cat cafe. Half the space was enclosed in plexiglass. The decorations had shifted from entirely bee themed, to incorporating cats playing with or chasing bees. The right-hand wall was almost entirely taken up by a massive cat structure that was more of a cat castle than a tower. With each change, the cafe felt more and more like home.

I let my hand dip and touched the ring of metal next to me and muttered the words of the spell to prevent eavesdropping. Motes of light swirled out of my mouth and settled into the metal ring around us. Agnes took up a spell next to me. Iridescent shimmers filled the air, creating an illusion around the table of us discussing something innocuous like the weather. The lights settled around us, leaving a shimmering veil over the table.

“Okay. What should we say to test this thing out?” I asked.

“Sarah is a terrible cook who wouldn’t know how to make French toast if her life depended on it.” Betty stared at Sarah as the words left her mouth.

Sarah continued to sit there, a bored expression on her face.

“The Dewey decimal system is superior to the Library of Congress system.” Agnes added, cocking her head to one side as she watched for any reaction from the other table.

I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh. Sarah might have been able to ignore the French toast comment, but she would never overlook an affront like that. She had spent too many years working at the local college library to let that insult slide. Last time it came up, she had ranted for almost an hour about the pros and cons of both in an attempt to illustrate how much better the Library of Congress system was at organizing books. “I think we’re good.”

We dropped the spells, the shimmering lights vanishing, and slid out of the booth.

“Done already?” Sarah asked.

Heather nodded. “Like a charm.”

Megan stretched. “Good. There’s a hot shower waiting at home with my name on it.”

“Same.” I grabbed my bag and headed toward the front door. “I’ll see you ladies tomorrow.”

I slid behind the wheel of my car and slouched. The normal breeze coming off the Puget Sound hadn’t come through that day, which left the air hot and humid. Inside my car, it was even worse. After a few seconds, sweat pooled along my spine.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Six months had passed since I rescued my daughter, Grace, from the Outsider’s influence. Learning I was a witch had been difficult. Learning that I was descended from a cursed family line had been even harder. But the thing my brain still struggled with the most was the knowledge that Outsiders existed. I found it hard to wrap my head around the idea that not only were Fae out there, but a fragment of one had been possessing my daughter. Six months before, that fragment had fled when a Warden of the West tried to banish it. And for six months, everything had been quiet, unnervingly quiet. But the persistent pressure at the back of my head, my divination ability that let me know when I was in danger or near something important, wouldn’t let me relax. It was a constant reminder that the fragment was still out there, that none of us were safe.

I straightened in my seat and started my car. The anxiety at the back of my mind wouldn’t let me sleep unless I checked it personally. I drove on autopilot to Meredith Walker’s house, the prison that kept the bulk of the Outsider still trapped. I pulled to a stop across the street and stared up at the home. A shiver ran down my spine. Putting my finger on what was wrong with the house was hard. It was a two-story Craftsman that seemed to loom over the street, the windows a little too dark. My gaze lingered on the large crack that ran through the home’s foundation. It started to the left of the front door, and if I got out to walk around the home, I could see where it exited on the other side. I tore my gaze away from it before the voices could begin whispering.

Rolling my shoulders back, I unfocused my eyes and looked back at the house. I leaned forward in my seat, my hands wrapped over the top of the wheel. With my eyes unfocused, I could see the wards enchanted into the wood of the home. Red marks swam under the surface. Chains of symbols swirled around the home, most unbroken. A few had snapped, their symbols dark and almost out of power. None of them had changed since my last visit. While something had escaped six months before, the rest of the wards remained, keeping the Outsider trapped inside. I chewed on my lip. What broke out? If it really was Meredith, wouldn’t she have done something by now?

My gaze slid from the home to the yard. Other, newer symbols looped around the home. These looked different from the ones on the house. They were made of shimmering red globes that looked almost bloodlike. That was what Kimberly Jones’s magic looked like. Intermixed with the globes were the red flower petals of Megan, the golden motes of light from me, a shimmering iridescent haze from Agnes, and flickering flames from Sarah. The blood held it all together. The rest just acted as support. Betty had been too nervous about her curse of unintended consequences messing something up, so she hadn’t layered in her misshapen pearls to the mix. The ward we’d put around the home to alert us to any changes was still firmly in place. Everything was as it should be. But the pit in my stomach expanded as I stared at it.

What is she waiting for?

The Wardens of the West had left months before. With no signs of change, they had been called back to their other duties. They seemed to feel comfortable relying on the other wards being unbreakable by anyone not trained in Warden magic. I wasn’t so sure since the first one had broken and Julie hadn’t been trained by anyone. I was forced to rely on the fact that every witch in town had compulsions embedded in their minds to call the Wardens if something changed. With all of us watching, one of us should notice anything suspicious.

What is she waiting for?

The pressure at the back of my head pulsed harder the longer I stared at the house. My skin crawled at the sight of those broken chains. But a necromancer had cast those wards, and that type of witch was apparently rare. Delaney, one of the Wardens, had said she put feelers out to find one powerful enough to come and redo them. After months of silence, that didn’t seem to be going well.

What is she waiting for?

I ground my teeth as the whispers began at the back of my mind, my gaze held captive by the fissure in the concrete. Everything melded together. No one voice was distinct enough for me to make out what was being said. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as the pressure behind my eyes pulsed. But nothing at the house changed. It all looked the same.

I flinched as my phone rang in my pocket. I tore my eyes away from the house and fished it out. Chris’s name flashed across the screen as I picked up.

“There’s been a murder,” Chris said.

I sat bolt upright in my seat.

“I think this one falls into the ‘strange’ category. Did you want to come take a look?”

“What’s so strange about it?” My words felt distant as the pressure in my head spiked. I held my breath, waiting for his response.

“The victim was a medium.”

This is it. Something had finally happened. My stomach dropped. Why did something have to be a dead body? “I’ll be right there.”

• Potions and the Pleasantly Poisoned
• Tomes and the Tangled Trail
• Divinations and the Disappearing Dead
• Hexes and the Haunted House
• Spells and the Suspiciously Silent
• Grimoires and the Ghostly Guest
• Enchantments and the Eerily Ensnared
• Rituals and the Restless Remains
• Charms and the Cursed Coven