The Witch's Claw: A Claire Swenson Novel

By Cheryl Alsippi

Claire Swenson and her friends Jannie and Boone have just finished college. They are ready to celebrate and move on with their lives… until Jannie's child goes missing. Claire will do anything to help Jannie find her little girl, even if that means stepping through time to save her.
Almost three years have passed since Claire was there to hold Jannie's hand through the breech birth of her daughter Mya—a gifted child according to folklore, born with a veil on Midsummer's Eve.
Now, during a dual celebration of graduation and Mya's upcoming third birthday, the three friends stare in shock at the toddler's empty bed. She's been taken. With everyone around them frozen in time, Claire and her friends have no choice but to step through a portal to the past.
They find themselves in Salem 1692, at the height of the witch trials. As strangers arriving at a precarious time in history, they try to avoid suspicion long enough to retrieve Mya from the witches who have taken her. The witches plan to use Mya in a dark magic ritual that will close their portal to the present, freezing Mya in the past forever. Can they get back to their own time before it's too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350905311

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The Witch’s Claw

copyright © 2023 by Cheryl Alsippi

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or uploaded to the internet without written permission. Exceptions are: use in reviews or articles. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and supporting the author’s rights.

ISBN: 979-8-35090-530-4 (print)

ISBN: 979-8-35090-531-1 (eBook)

This book is a work of fiction. The contents of this book are either used fictitiously or are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is purely coincidence.

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Acknowledgements

About the Author

By The Same Author

Whispers in the Attic

Praise for Whispers in the Attic

I find your book very interesting. I can relate to so many things dealing with the paranormal aspect. Kind of creepy in a way! LOL! Good job!

—AB

"I finished Whispers in the Attic on New Year’s Eve. I loved it! It had suspense, interest, mystery, and excitement. You did a great job and I really enjoyed reading it."

—CL

Dedication

This book is dedicated to three special ladies in my life: My mother Jane who lived a hard life but always had a smile for everyone. She shared her love of reading with me and encouraged me from an early age to read everything I could find. She also taught me that you must eat potato chips while reading. To my stepmother Ruby who taught me you don’t have to be blood to know you are loved. She was a wonderful stepmom and a loving grandmother. To my mother-in-law Rosella who welcomed me into her family and made me feel at home. She supported me through many ventures and was my friend. They are all gone from this world now but will live on in my heart forever and are loved beyond measure.

Halfway down the dim, lantern-lit alley, Claire watched as a small circle of cloaked figures gathered around a fire. Hoping not to be seen, she slowly crept forward—her back sliding along the rough-cut stone building. Inching closer, she could hear them chanting incantations as they began to walk in a circular motion around the fire. A chill spread down her spine, causing her to shiver. She kept her eyes locked on the dark figures. One of them raised a hand into the air, and the glint of a knife blade caught Claire’s eye. She gasped and began to back away. In one swift movement, they all turned and looked directly at her. A loud screech emanated from the group, and before she could run, one of the figures—a woman—was beside her. She grabbed Claire tightly by the wrist and dragged her forward through the dirt, toward the circle. Claire tried to scream but produced no sound. Through her panic, she heard a familiar buzz—the same sound she’d heard when this vision had begun. Claire was aware that everything around her was becoming distant and fading away. The pain in her wrist remained, radiating upward, drawing her back to the present and into the reality of a stark and sterile delivery room.

Chapter 1

Claire’s vision faded as her best friend Jannie’s contraction reached full scale and her hold on Claire’s wrist tightened. Around them, bright lights and beeping monitors filled the room. A middle-aged nurse and young assistant scurried about, in and out of the room speaking in low voices—low enough to make Claire think they were hiding something from Jannie. Her heart ached as she looked at her friend’s face, all scrunched in pain. The sweat on Jannie’s brow had her jet-black hair plastered to her forehead.

Claire had no children of her own—so when asked to be a back-up birthing coach—she had been naïve enough to think that this second birth for Jannie would be a breeze. She didn’t even think she would have to attend, but nothing was going as planned. Cam—Jannie’s partner and father of this child and their first one, Max—was in Vegas at an art expo. He was there looking for new ways to expand and promote their tattoo business. To make things worse, a severe electrical storm was wreaking havoc on the town’s traffic light system, causing major tie-ups. When she got the call from Jannie, Claire and her fiancé Dean drove to her apartment immediately. He stayed there with Max, and Claire drove Jannie to the birthing center. The two of them had just arrived at the center half an hour ago. After examining Jannie, Nurse Bailey had her prepped for the delivery room instead of the birthing suite as a precaution. The assistant handed Claire a cap, gown, and booties and showed her where to scrub up so she could join them. Jannie’s midwife Rosa was unavailable, and the doctor was still at least an hour from the center. With all the traffic jams, that most likely meant he was three hours out.

It was clear the nurse was concerned and stated the possibility they may have to deliver Jannie’s baby without the doctor present. The infant was now in the breech position even though a week earlier the midwife had rotated it in the womb. This could result in the need for a Cesarean birth, and they were trying to avoid that as the doctor was not there yet. Jannie looked tearfully at Claire. I can’t believe she is a week early—and Cam is in Vegas! He would never have gone if he knew this would happen. Thanks for coming with me. Jannie texted him the moment her labor had started and he said he would be taking the first possible flight back, but it looked like the baby wasn’t waiting for him. When I asked you to back-up Cam, I really thought you both would be here. Ugghhhhhhhhh. She clutched onto Claire’s hand again as her next contraction started to build in intensity. With her other hand, Jannie latched onto a knotted cloth they had tied to the side rail for her and held on. Nurse Bailey joined them and advised her not to push. Through clenched teeth, Jannie responded, That’s not gonna be easy! She’s coming. Soon! Claire tried to help Jannie by coaching with her breathing. The nurse timed the contraction and checked the monitor as it progressed. The frown on her face indicated things weren’t as they should be. She turned to Claire after Jannie’s pain subsided. Could you give me a moment with Ms. Small, please? Jannie insisted that Claire stay and would not let go of her hand while the nurse continued. Ms. Small, your baby is in distress, and you are about to deliver. We can’t wait for Dr. Turner. Temperance and I will have to handle this. Noting the worried looks she received from both Jannie and Claire, she added, I have assisted the doctor with breech deliveries before. We’ll get this done. She turned on her heel and hurried out of the room, calling for Temperance to follow.

Claire felt useless as she watched the tears roll down Jannie’s face. She sympathetically reached for a wet cloth and wiped her friend’s face, brushing back her hair. Even with her swollen belly, Jannie’s tiny frame took up only half the bed. How in the world do you go through this, Jannie? I don’t know if I could handle it once, let alone twice! The answer she got was simple, You do what you have to do. It’s worth it. You’ll understand some day. She dropped back against the pillows and relaxed for only a few moments before another pain began. I just worry that the baby will be okay. Her voice cracked as the pain intensified. She urged Claire to get the nurse, I need to push. Right now!

Nurse Bailey was the first one back into the room. Temperance was close behind, rounding the corner of the bed with a tray of instruments. The power outages that plagued the town that night finally reached their building. All the lights went out! A crash sounded loudly as Temperance tripped, sending the tray and all it carried clattering across the floor. When the emergency lighting buzzed on, it was dim but effective. Nurse Bailey began barking orders. Claire, hold her leg back, pull with pressure but not too hard. Temperance, you hold the other. Here, like this. We are going to deliver this baby.

Jannie, surprised by the instructions Nurse Bailey was giving the aide, asked Tempe, You mean you’ve never done this before? She was frantically searching the girl’s face for reassurance. They were the only ones able to bring this baby safely into the world, and although Claire could offer moral support, she knew little else about delivering babies. Jannie tensed and bent forward as the next pain gripped her body.

Nurse Bailey looked up. Temperance is new here. She’s not yet familiar with the procedures of our group. That’s all. She’s experienced. The young woman addressed Jannie, You can call me Tempe. I’ve helped with many deliveries. I am quite capable.

Wow, thought Claire, not very reassuring. It might as well have been a pat on the head and the words there, there. Claire felt a slight chill on the back of her neck. She frowned and chewed lightly on her top lip—an old habit she returned to when nervous. There was something odd about this young woman that put Claire on edge—something she didn’t trust. When she glanced up, she found Tempe staring back at her.

Shadows bounced about the room in the dim lighting, adding a sense of foreboding to an already-tense atmosphere. Temperance left briefly to retrieve a new tray and the tools necessary for the delivery. Claire watched the nurse intently as Jannie leaned forward with her support. Nurse Bailey manipulated the baby—grasping the partially exposed infant by the pelvis, rotating the child gently until it was face-down. Proceeding to assist the little one, she eased it forward with each contraction, first dislodging one leg and then the other. She commanded Jannie, Push now! Deep breath and push! This should be the last one. She slowly lifted the baby upward with one hand while at the same time tilting the chin and face toward its chest, dislodging the head. It was done! Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. You did it! We did it. You have a baby girl. When she held the baby upright, Claire heard Tempe gasp. Their eyes met and Claire heard her murmur, She has a veil. It’s a sign. She’s the gifted child. Nurse Bailey silenced her with a stern look.

Jannie immediately began to panic. She grabbed at Claire, What’s wrong, why isn’t she crying! Is she okay? She tried desperately to sit up to a position where she could see what was happening with her child. In the filtered glow of the emergency lights, Claire saw what looked like a thin membrane stretched over the baby’s head and chest area—remnants of the amniotic sac.

Nurse Bailey assured Jannie, She will be fine, this occurs more often than you would think. Working swiftly and smoothly, grasping the thin material and removing it, she then suctioned the newborn. Then, the sweetest and loudest wail Claire had ever heard filled the room. Jannie fell back onto the pillow, laughing and crying at the same time. She’s okay . . . she’s okay. The nurse placed the baby on Jannie’s chest while she finished up. Jannie hugged her child close while she counted fingers and toes. Claire smiled through tears at the miracle she saw before her and thought about what Jannie had said earlier—you do what you have to do. It’s worth it—and she believed that.

Temperance removed the baby from Jannie’s side and walked with her to the warming table halfway across the room. She wiped her down, then weighed and measured her, and then filled in a form with that vital information. She also removed a small vial of blood. She carefully placed a tiny cap on the baby’s head and swaddled her in a soft pink blanket. Claire noticed the fluffed-up, jet black hair escaping from the edges of the cap. It looked so much thicker than before when it was all wet and plastered down. She smiled at her friend. I think she is going to be a mini Jannie. She’s beautiful. As the child lay on the table, Claire watched as Temperance held both hands over her, moving them in circles while chanting something Claire couldn’t make out. Claire’s eyes met Nurse Bailey’s who—without turning—ordered sternly over her shoulder, Stop that nonsense! Bring the baby to her mother. There was no response. Together they glanced toward the baby table and realized there was no one there but the child. The aide was nowhere in sight. Nurse Bailey rose and walked to the warming table. She shook her head and mumbled softly to herself, That girl is just not going to work out. Claire left Jannie’s side and followed her quickly across the room. The nurse picked up the child and delivered her into Jannie’s arms as the lights flickered back on. What are you naming her?

Jannie cuddled her newborn daughter, smiling with relief and still teary-eyed. Her name is Mya Abigail Warren Fletcher. How much does she weigh? Claire picked up the form that lay by the heated table and answered, She weighs six pounds, two ounces, and is eighteen inches long. Her brow wrinkled as she reread the bottom of the form. She shook her head and looked over at Jannie who already had Cam on video chat showing him their little girl. That’s odd, Claire added, Tempe didn’t write the date. All she wrote was 11:55 p.m. Midsummer’s Eve.

Chapter 2

Claire sat at the picnic table outside Jannie and Cam’s apartment building. She enjoyed people-watching, and a birthday party was the perfect place for that past-time. She couldn’t believe Mya was two years old already. Jannie invited a ton of friends and family to celebrate. Earlier in the day, Claire helped her stretch streamers from tree-to-tree in the courtyard of their complex, which now looked very festive. Everyone was milling around, waiting for the hamburgers to finish grilling. Claire’s mouth began to water at the smell of the seasoned beef on the grill. She smiled as she spotted a handsome man walking through the crowd—moving from person to person while bouncing Mya on his hip. The toddler seemed so comfortable in his arms and smiled up at him while trying to push the tiny doll she was holding into his mouth. Wealth showed on him as if the word was a placard across his chest. His meticulous appearance was marred only by a persistent cowlick that pushed one blond lock forward, over his left eyebrow. As he moved about, he periodically tried to push the hair back into place. She watched as he continued his rounds. He passed by Jannie and handed Mya over to her when he spotted Claire and headed her way. She laughed at her friend as he approached. Bad hair day, Boone?

Just like every other day, C. He sat down beside her on the bench and relaxed into a comfortable slouch. Where’s D? I’ve been looking for him. I was going to ask him for assistance with a paper I’m working on for next semester’s class with Dr. Wyatt. I need something clarified and Wyatt is off this week. I was hoping D would be here so I could pick his brain.

Sorry, Dean’s busy at home working. He’s speaking at an upcoming ceremony and you know how meticulous he can be. He wants it to be perfect. He’ll stop by later. You can talk to him then if you’re still around. When did you become such a studyholic? she asked, poking him