The Reverend Collins and his daughter Vanessa arrived roughly an hour early after overestimating the amount of time it would take them from their home in Northport to find the Blanchard house. The Blanchards accepted their explanation at face value, all except Olympia, who recognized they had purposefully arrived early in order to see what Seth’s family was like when caught off guard. Reverend Collins and Vanessa made concealed inspections of their surroundings as everyone made hurried introductions. From the top of the long straight staircase with its maple railings, across the shiny clean hardwood floors, into the living room just off the entrance way, the Collins’ eyes tracked every inch they could see.

  Artemis rushed dinner to the table, knowing that Seth didn’t want his girlfriend or her father around the family any longer than they had to be. They all took seats around the large dining room table with Olympia taking her place at the head quite ceremoniously with Howard pulling her chair out for her. There was idle conversation, of course. Vanessa complimented the intricacies of the lace tablecloth. Demitra told her she had sewn it herself. Vanessa mentioned that her mother had been an accomplished knitter and tried to pass that skill along to her, but Vanessa had never been very gifted in that regard. Artemis asked the reverend about the traffic conditions on the drive from Northport to Daihmler, and he informed her about new road work being done on McFarland Boulevard. Seth sat nervously fiddling with his fork, nudging the food around his plate without taking many bites. Fable sat and watched with bemused fascination at how anxious everyone seemed to be. Occasionally, she made side glances to Yasmine, but Yasmine appeared to be just as uncomfortable as everyone else. Howard observed his young assistant’s discomfort as well and attempted to drive the table talk to less chit-chatty matters.

  “Reverend Collins, I suppose you came to Daihmler thinking this would be a nice, quiet little hamlet to take up residence, but I assume you’ve heard about the two murders in the news.”

  Vanessa bristled noticeably and sat her forkful of mashed potatoes back down on her plate, “It’s scary. The girl they found last week lived not too far from us.”

  “Did you know her?” Fable asked.

  “No,” Vanessa replied. “But it still makes me nervous.”

  Reverend Collins frowned and shook his head in disbelief. “It’s disturbing to think about what some human beings are capable of doing to each other. Our church is actually paying for the funeral, once the body is released.”

  “That’s very kind,” Olympia said warmly. “What a generous thing to do.”

  “Yes,” Reverend Collins sighed. “The girl’s family used to be members of the congregation some years ago I’m told. Of course, this was well before we moved to Daihmler, so I have never met the family personally. I’ve heard they are a very nice family.”

  “Daihmler is usually a very quiet place,” Olympia said almost apologetically. “I’m sorry it isn’t showing you that aspect of its character at present. Typically, we are a very safe town.”

  “Demitra? Has Charlie called you in on the investigation?” Howard asked as he snatched two more fried wings from the large platter in the center of the table. Before the wings had come to a rest on his plate, Yasmine reached over Fable and pulled one back to the platter.

  “Your cholesterol is high.”

  Howard reached back to the platter and took the wing back. “Then I’ll get Beryl to heal—”

  Seth coughed into his fist and gave Howard a side eye.

  “I’ll get Beryl to up my medication,” Howard corrected.

  The Reverend seemed puzzled but turned his attention towards Demitra, who had just begun to answer the question. “No,” she said. “I haven’t heard from Charlie. But the second murder only just happened. I doubt the police had any idea until then that this was going to be an ongoing situation. The first murder was brutal, but no one would have anticipated there would be another one exactly like the first.”

  “We may have a serial killer in our midst,” Howard said crunching into the crispy skin of the chicken wing.

  Vanessa looked pale. “Can we change the subject, please?”

  Fable gave off a forced laugh which didn’t sound like much of a laugh at all, “Seth, you didn’t tell us your girlfriend was so squeamish.”

  The conversation dwindled back to boring niceties which no one was interested in. But when only the crunch of fried chicken could be heard around the table, the pretenses were dropped, and Reverend Collins got to the heart of the matter.

  “All pleasantries aside,” he began, “I wanted to come here tonight to meet all of you. It seems things are moving quickly with Vanessa and Seth, and I was eager to learn more about his family and upbringing.”

  “A reasonable request,” Olympia smiled. “Please feel free to ask us anything.”

  “So, you are Seth’s grandmother?” Reverend Collins began.

  “Yes,” Olympia replied.

  “It was my understanding that you are his grandmother from his mother’s side of the family. But how is it that your last names are the same?”

  Olympia knew what he was intimating. “We Blanchards hold on to our family name regardless of marriage. My married name is Sinclair, but I go by Blanchard.”

  “Oh, will we be meeting your husband tonight as well?” Collins asked.

  “He passed away eleven years ago.”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Collins blushed. “But you can forgive my nosiness, I hope. I have only the one daughter, and I am afraid I’m very protective of her. It’s just that I was trying to make sure that Seth wasn’t illegitimate.”

  Vanessa bristled and elbowed her father in the side. He turned to give her a stern look which made her return her focus to the plate of food and seemingly ignore whatever was being said around her.

  “What would that matter?” Yasmine defended, dropping her fork to the table.

  Reverend Collins smiled politely, “Well, I suppose in these current times, it doesn’t matter very much. Still, I am of an older generation, and I am a minister after all. Are you Seth’s sister?”

  “No. I am Yasmine Sinclair.”

  “So, you are not a Blanchard?”

  “Yasmine is my granddaughter,” Olympia explained. “She’s the daughter of my late husband’s son, who is also deceased.”

  The shadow passed over the wall. Seth dropped his fork onto his plate nervously. The loud clank startled the table. The shadow lingered a moment, then floated up to the ceiling where it passed over the light fixture and disappeared through the doorway to the kitchen.

  “Uh, good meal Aunt Artemis,” Seth stammered. “Does everyone have rolls? The rolls are really good.”

  Howard lifted one and began to butter it. “So fluffy and golden. Butter just melts over it.”

  “What was that?” Vanessa asked, looking around the room for the weird shadow.

  “What was what?” Seth asked without looking up from his plate.

  “Something moved across the wall.”

  “Old houses cast odd shadows,” Demitra smiled as she lifted the basket of rolls from the table and offered to their guests. “These are really good rolls.”

  .   The sound of the front door opening and a rattle of keys being tossed onto a table announced an arrival. A woman with shoulder length curly honey blonde hair wearing hospital scrubs appeared in the doorway, drawing attention to herself.

  “Since when do we eat at 6:30?” she asked, scanning the table and its inhabitants with a puzzled expression. “And this isn’t your usual night, Howard.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “We have company dear,” Demitra told her. “This is the girl Seth’s been seeing lately, Vanessa. And her father, Reverend Collins. Didn’t you get my message at the hospital?”

  “No, I didn’t go back to my office after I made my rounds.”

  “I texted you, too,” Demitra added.

  The woman smiled placatingly and replied, “Well, I guess I didn’t look at my texts either, then.” She nodded to the guests, “Hello, I am Beryl Blanchard.”

  “Are you a nurse?” Reverend Collins asked.

  “Doctor, actually,” Beryl replied. She took her usual seat on the other side of Seth. Giving him a nudge, she whispered, “You look like we all just landed back in Old Salem.”

  Suddenly Demitra had a strange look on her face. “Salem! Has anyone spoken with Salem today?”

  “I talked to her last week. Why?” Fable asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Demitra murmured. She had a bad feeling, but it was not a premonition—those she knew how to handle. This was something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  Vanessa leaned toward Seth and softly asked, “Who’s Salem?”

  “My sister,” Seth replied. “I told you about her, didn’t I? She lives in Atlanta with her husband.”

  “Would you believe Reverend Collins, that I am a great grandmother?” Olympia smiled proudly. “Salem gave birth to a beautiful little boy last year. Michael is my first great-grandchild.”

  Seth remembered the first time Salem’s husband David came to dinner at Blanchard House. Somehow things hadn’t felt so awkward that night. But maybe that was because it was all happening to Salem, and this time it was Seth feeling the anxiety. He looked over at his cousin Fable, and for just a second thought maybe he’d enjoyed the tension that night with David just as much as Fable appeared to be enjoying tonight.

  Artemis couldn’t pull her eyes away from the disturbed look on her sister’s face. She elbowed Demitra. “Are you okay?”

  “Something is wrong. I can feel it.”

  By now Olympia too felt something was off in the energy fields around her, although she tried not to show it. There was no point to upsetting their current guests, especially since there was absolutely nothing which could be done right now. She knew all too well from experience that psychic senses cannot be rushed. Visions, premonitions, and the like must come in their own time.

  Helping himself to another portion of fried chicken, Reverend Collins continued with his veiled interrogation. “Would it be rude of me to ask what denomination the Blanchard family belongs to?”

  “Denomination of what?” Fable asked sarcastically. Seth took a swipe at her leg under the table.

  “Church, Miss Blanchard,” Reverend Collins replied. “What church is your family affiliated with?”

  “We don’t go to church,” Fable sneered.

  “Isn’t the world just one big church really?” Seth said.

  “I’ve always thought so,” Howard chimed in giving Seth a little help.

  Olympia gave Seth and Howard the eye as she returned a polite smile to their guests. “I believe what my grandson is saying, Reverend, is that one only needs to go out into the world at large to find spiritual bonds with the higher powers.”

  “I, myself, believe in the traditional foundational principles of God’s consecrated structures,” the minister said mostly to himself.

  “Not everyone goes to church, Dad,” Vanessa said. “It doesn’t mean anything awful.”

  “Well, Vanessa, I am a representative of the church. I should hope that whomever my daughter chooses to walk through life with would also be of the same religious faith as we.”

  “Let’s just cut to the chase here,” Vanessa said to the rest of the table. “I care a lot about Seth, and instead of just being happy about that, my father is concerned because he has heard some talk in Tuscaloosa and Daihmler that the Blanchard family are witches.”

  “Really?” Seth gasped, feigning surprise.

  “Yes,” Vanessa replied, swatting Seth’s foot under the table with her own. “I’ve asked Seth about it a time or two, but he dances around the subject.”

  “I’m glad my daughter cut to the meat of this visit,” Collins said. “I have indeed asked around about your family. Of course, here in the south, with families as old as yours seems to be, one can hear any number of things. Please understand that I have heard only positive things about the Blanchard family. I haven’t heard a single word spoken negatively about any of you…”

  “But you’ve been told that we are witches,” Olympia smiled.

  “I do not mean to insult you.”

  “I’m not insulted,” Olympia replied. “Reverend Collins, we are witches.”

  “Hecate!” Seth cried.

  “Settle down Seth,” Artemis cautioned. “It was bound to come out sooner or later. You didn’t really believe you could keep seeing Vanessa without telling her the truth, did you?”

  “You admit to this slanderous allegation?” Reverend Collins asked Olympia with a look of bewilderment.

  “I don’t consider facts to be slanderous, if they are indeed facts,” Olympia nodded. “I am a witch. My father was a witch. My mother was a witch. My grandfather, great-grandmother…and all of my children and grandchildren are witches.”

  “Well…” Yasmine blushed.

  “Yes,” Olympia grinned, patting her youngest granddaughter’s hand. “Almost all of my grandchildren. Basically, if you have Blanchard blood coursing through your veins, you are a witch.”

  “I cannot believe how readily you admit this.”

  “It’s not a crime Reverend Collins,” Olympia explained. “It’s also not a secret. Everyone around here knows about the Blanchard witches. People of Daihmler and as far as Tuscaloosa, frequently come to us for help on certain matters in their lives. Our own Demitra here often works with the police department on some of their most puzzling cases. Our Beryl is a prominent doctor. Fable is one of Alabama’s leading veterinarians. Our being witches is simply one part of our identity, just as your being a Reverend is only a part of yours.”

  “My Christianity is the totality of me. I give myself wholly to the Lord. I am afraid there is no way my daughter can be associated with practitioners of witchcraft. It would be the equivalent of allowing her to worship the devil.”

  Fable leaned into the table. Everyone knew that when Fable Blanchard leans forward and makes direct eye contact, she’s about to school someone. “Reverend Collins,” she began, “you might be surprised to know that being a witch has nothing to do with the devil. In fact, I don’t even believe in the devil, because I don’t believe in God.”

  Seth smacked his hands into his forehead. Why did Reverend Collins have to rile Fable? Getting Fable agitated was always a recipe for disaster. All you had to do was ask the mailman who tore her copy of Vogue last month, or the poor Starbucks guy who gave her foam last week when she didn’t want foam, or anyone at the gym who tries to superset exercises by taking up more than one piece of equipment. Fable’s greatest gift was going off on people.

  “I’m not surprised to hear you don’t believe in God, young lady,” the Reverend huffed.

  “Well, listen to my next one and perhaps you will be. It is true, I don’t believe in God. I find the entire concept to be a childish holdover from the Dark Ages because unfortunately mankind is still too frightened to admit that the things that happen to us in life are all by chance. Most need some ethereal finger to guide their life because they do not have courage enough to guide their own. You need God. I, personally, do not.

  “But it may interest you to know that many witches do believe in God. Many witches believe they are God’s chosen ones--set a rung up on the ladder above other humans in order to protect and enrich them in this life. Earthly angels so to speak. How else would a man of faith be able to rationalize the powers a witch might possess. Wouldn’t it seem more likely that your God gave them their abilities, much the way you would believe in the power he gave to angels.”

  “But angels weren’t burned at the stake a few hundred years ago by Christian people. Witches were,” Collins countered.

  “And from that statement alone, who sounds like the bigger monster?” Fable said with a searing look. “Another fun fact for you,” she went on, “none of the men and women ever killed during those times was truly a witch. Because quite frankly, a real witch would easily have gotten away if they had wanted to. Just like if I wanted to right now, I could bring down a swarm of blue birds to shit on your head—or peck your eyes out.”

  “Fable!” Beryl shouted at her sister.

  “I don’t like this man!” Fable shouted back.

  Seth barked across the table at his cousin, “Stop being a bitch, Fable!”

  “Children, stop this now,” Olympia warned.

  “We are getting off point.” Artemis interrupted, turning her attention back to the reverend. “Reverend Collins, I fully understand that you have a faith which makes it difficult for you to understand our ways. My niece was—rather rudely—trying to make a point. Like with everyone else in the world, some people subscribe to certain religious faiths and others do not. My niece is an atheist. Militantly so. I am more agnostic. It matters very little to me if there is a God or not. My mother, however, is a Christian and a follower of Christ’s teachings, as is Seth’s sister Salem. Also, my niece Beryl here. Even within our own family we differ. But regardless of religious affiliations, we are in fact witches. The two things have nothing to do with one another.”

  “I disagree emphatically,” the Reverend stated. “In my faith it is abhorrent for one to assign themselves to witchcraft.”

  “I don’t think we so much chose it, as it chose us,” Beryl quipped.

  “You have no idea what devilry you are playing with!” Rev. Collins warned.

  “Meaning no disrespect, Sir.” Olympia smiled. “You have no idea the things I have seen and the evils I have battled to protect this great earth God has given us. You sit in the very solemnity in which my kind have fought to protect for you. So, let us simply end the frictions of this conversation. You are welcomed guests in our home, and we are glad you are here sharing our meal with us. We will naturally disagree on this fact because we have both been raised with a different set of teachings. But in no way should this affect Seth and Vanessa’s courtship.”

  Seth looked to his Aunt Artemis as if to say “Help”. He could always count on Artemis to run to his rescue. She’d been doing it all his life. Every mess he’d ever gotten himself into she had gotten him out of—If anyone could reel this thing back on course, it would be she.

  “The bottom line,” Artemis said calmly after giving her nephew a reassuring wink, “Seth cares for Vanessa. I can see that Vanessa also cares for Seth. At the end of the day, if they want to be together none of us can stop them. Our jobs as their families is to love and support them, whatever they decide.”

  “Normally I’d agree with you, Miss Blanchard,” Reverend Collins said. “But your family’s unique situation gives me great pause.”

  Artemis nodded her head in understanding. Holding direct eye contact with their guest she did her best to calm his worries. “If you are concerned about our way of life, you needn’t be. The Blanchards are good people. Loving people. And as you have already done, you may ask anyone in our community. We are kind people. I get the sense you and your daughter are probably kind as well. I hope so. If Vanessa ever joins our family, she will join it with love and welcoming hearts, but that is really up to her and Seth to decide- not you, not me, not any of us.”

  Vanessa grabbed Seth’s hand in her own and squeezed it. He smiled at her and gave her a peck on the cheek. Howard was watching Yasmine, and his heart felt a little like it did all those years ago when Artemis let him go.