Read The Witchfinder Wars Online

Authors: K.G. McAbee

Tags: #paranormal romance, #paranormal, #witches, #paranormal fantasy, #paranormal romantic thriller, #paranormal love romance, #witches good, #witches and curses, #paranormal and supernatural, #paranormal romance witches

The Witchfinder Wars (8 page)

BOOK: The Witchfinder Wars
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A silver sweet voice whispered in my mind I
should reach out to him. I should try to thank him somehow.

Pull the cord closer...

As the teacher began to describe the
requirements for our homework assignments and the importance of
understanding poetry, I grabbed a sheet of pale yellow paper from
the folder Aunt Evie insisted I keep inside my bag and started to
write.

 

Tommy—

I don't know what I'm doing, or why I am
doing this. I'm sure you've got more things on your mind than what
happened yesterday when we met. I can't forgive my rude behavior to
you after you stepped in. I'm used to being the damsel in distress,
but more like the one who is tied to the train tracks and never
rescued.

So with these words you have my thanks. You
will never know how much I appreciate what you did for me.

Sincerely,

Anya

P.S.—Please accept my condolences for your
terrible loss. I'm so sorry.

 

I folded the letter and held it beneath the
palms of my hands while I hoped my face gave nothing away to the
teacher who was droning on in the front of the class. I slipped it
into the matching envelope hidden near the bottom of that same
folder. I gave a silent thanks to Aunt Evie for making me carry
such tools in case I needed 'otherworldly' help.

Class broke for lunch at 11:30 and as I
mingled with the crowds heading toward the cafeteria, I debated my
actions regarding the letter. I left the building and walked over
to a large oak tree away from the craziness, and I reached in my
bag to pull out a book I could pretend to read.

Deep down, I knew the letter was a sad
attempt at trying to contact Tommy. But I couldn't think of any
other way to do it. After seeing the look on his face this morning
in the mirror, the need to try to save him the way he had saved me
pulled me toward him. At least, my thoughts were being pulled
toward him. Anything else would have to wait until after
school.

With Tommy gone, the protection his new
status offered dissipated. Yet I was so distracted by my internal
argument, I failed to notice how quickly the stares and murmurs had
returned. It wasn't until Jordan and his friends approached I
realized what was being said.

I was propped up against the base of the
tree, holding my copy of
Crime and Punishment
open to a
dog-eared page, when a shadow fell across it. I looked up to see
Jordan, his pack, accompanied by a few females this time. I dropped
the book and stood to face them. Here, at school where the teachers
were abundant, I felt more secure; my anger at them flared up
before I could push it back.

"What?" I crossed my arms and tilted my head
to the side to get the sun out of my eyes. A curious thing
happened. The entire group seemed to lean back away from me.

"How'd you do it, witch?"

Jordan's face was white beneath the tan he'd
earned over the summer break. A fear in his eyes I'd never seen
before made him seem skittish. I had to admit it was a satisfying
sight.

"What'd I do now? Bring a plague upon all
your houses? Cause you to slip in the bathtub? Oh, no, wait; you
don't take baths much, huh?" It was my voice, yes, but mingled with
something I didn't recognize; a new mixture of mockery and
hatred.

Jordan looked around as if to make sure the
people were still standing behind him before he jabbed a finger in
my direction. "You cursed him! Tommy Hopkins! We know you did!
That's why his daddy died! It's all because of yesterday."

That one hurt. I knew school was going to be
bad; it always was. But this was too much. The words he had spoken
to Tommy resounded through my mind as it struggled to comprehend
what he had said.

". . .
she'll curse you like she will us
now..."

I dropped my head for a moment as I
struggled to contain the words I wanted to say. To tell him where I
thought he should go. To shove all Southern training on how to act
like a lady out the window and hurt him. There was no chance of
that. But I wanted to.

I managed to get control of my senses before
I responded. "Thank you, Jordan, for thinking I am so powerful I
can cause freak accidents half a state away. It's kinda flattering.
But if that were truly the case, do you really think I would have
let you get close enough to hurt me yesterday? Or anytime?"

I knelt down to put the book away and
gathered my things. When I stood, the others were looking to Jordan
for a sign, any sign of leadership. Jordan's face was pale
green.

He truly believed I did things no human
being could possibly do.

That I could dictate the movements earth and
cause them to hurt people.

It was sad more than anything else.

I slipped past them and into the halls of
the school building. The encounter had made my decision easier
regarding what to do about the letter to Tommy.

I had to reach out to him, but now it was
for more than just staying in contact.

I had to make sure he didn't blame me,
too.

***

His address would be easy enough to find.
The only nice houses in town lined Clarke Street, so as soon as the
final bell rang, I jumped on the bus going in that direction. The
bus itself was empty aside from the few not old enough to drive
themselves, and I leaned back against the smooth vinyl of the seat
to watch the school fall away into the broken buildings making up
most of downtown Manning.

The emptiness of this place I'd called home
my entire life was a tragic sight. Yet it was to be expected. Built
up around the textile mills that had cluttered the South, Manning
once boomed with the success built from hard jobs and harder
lifestyles. Those mills left even more quickly than they came,
taking only the good things with them as they shuttered their
windows and locked their doors.

Many of those who came to work the mills
stayed on, including the first Blanchetts who had run the looms
during the day and plied their magic at night. These were my
grandparents who passed their power down to my mother and aunt.

And, supposedly, down to me.

Ivy and Evie were twins, but you'd never
know it by being around them, or looking at them. Ivy was pale and
delicate compared to Evie's sturdy build. Where my mother was
flighty, Evie was grounded. When Ma went into dramatics, Evie
calmed her down. I smiled as I thought of how appropriate their
respective elements were.

The little I knew about my family came from
the snippets of memories from my lessons in magic, or in the
bedtime stories Evie would tell me to bring on sleep. Those history
lessons seemed like fairy tales beneath the Carolina moon. It
wasn't until I was older I realized not every family could make
such tales a reality. Mine could, and did, with the spells they
practiced.

The bus rolled to a stop at the end of a
tree-lined street committed to keeping people like me off of it.
The houses gleamed in the afternoon sun as they had for decades.
Clarke Street meant only one thing to the people of Manning. Money.
This was the neighborhood of bankers, doctors, and lawyers who had
built a community for themselves outside the prying eyes of the
less fortunate. As I walked up the pristine sidewalks covered with
shade, I began to ask myself just what it was I was doing
there.

I assumed his house would be the one with
the flower delivery vans in front of it. I stopped across the
street from the grandest house I'd ever seen.

It was a Victorian. A large porch circled
the front and disappeared around the sides, edged with ferns and
some flowers I recognized from Evie's garden. Azalea bushes rose to
meet the stairs leading upward to a stained glass door welcoming
all who passed.

Although the front was clear of any
disturbance, the train of flowers and boxes was hard to miss;
delivery boys marched up the driveway on the right side of the
yard. I swallowed hard and started to shove the note back into the
bag when the voice in my head stopped me.

You've come so far, Anya. Do it now.

No!

I knew I was arguing with myself. That fact
alone confirmed my suspicions I was going crazy.

The responding laughter rolled in peels as
clear as the glass windows of the big house.

He'll want to see you. Especially after what
you did last night.

He's...I need to stay away from him. Binding
or no, I have no place here.

A man's voice interrupted me. I looked up to
see him crossing over the street in my direction.

"Miss, are you lost?" he asked.

See? He knows I don't belong here. Why don't
you?

Go on. Now you have to do it.

I fought back the urge to run, to take the
stupid note and throw it off the first bridge I came to. Instead, I
found myself squaring my shoulders and throwing what I hoped looked
like a million watt smile in his direction.

"I certainly hope not." I stepped forward;
not recognizing my own actions. Actions that were making me face a
stranger instead of shying away as I usually did. I reached my hand
out to him, confident he would accept it.

"I'm Anya. I'm a classmate of Tommy's at
Cothran High. The word has it ya'll have suffered a tragedy
here."

Well-trained eyes examined my rag-a-muffin
exterior and his rejection was immediate and obvious. He took my
hand as if it were something dirty he'd like to throw away.

I grasped his hand and concentrated all of
my energy onto it with the image of a hearth, a beloved family
gathered around it as it popped and crackled away the cold. That
energy calmed me and worked its way to him. His suspicious scrutiny
disappeared in a second. That was all I needed.

His hands cupped over mine. "Yes, ma'am, I'm
afraid we have. Mr. Hopkins..." His voice broke, but I wondered if
he would truly miss his employer, or the job the employer had given
him.

"I'm very sorry, sir. Truly I am and I'm
certainly not here to disturb you now." My words came out in a
murmur meant to soothe. They sounded too rich for me. I wanted to
shudder as I watched this man take in my facade based on the
spell.

I wanted to tell him to run away before my
magic could hurt him. Hurt Tommy. I couldn't do it without
confirming the fears Manning had about us, so I kept my mouth shut
as the energies around us focused on the task I was completing.

Suddenly, I didn't care if Tommy blamed me
like the others. I just wanted to make sure the sadness I'd seen in
his eyes that morning went away. To make sure he wasn't hurt.

It took a moment to pull my hand away, but
as soon as I did, I was holding the envelope I realized now held
the faint scent of vanilla.

Evie...

I groaned inside. "Could you do something
for me, sir?"

His eyes told me he was still bewitched by
my meager attempts at magic. His feverish nods confirmed it.

"Anything, Miss..."

I held out the envelope. "Could you give
this to Tommy for me? Again, I don't wish to disturb the family
during this difficult time. I just wanted to send my condolences to
him."

The man nodded and took the envelope in
gentle hands. In his eagerness to help, he turned away from me to
rush toward the house. I stopped him with fingers that just grazed
the back of his arm. Briefly, I wondered exactly what he did for
the Hopkins that made him so willing to obey. Or perhaps they were
all like that. It was something I could never know.

His eyes were puzzled as he turned to face
me, and I had to catch my breath before I could get the words
out.

"No. Not now. Tonight for sure, but you'll
know when the right time is, sir. Give it to him, then forget all
about it. And thank you. I do hope no harm comes to you or yours
for this."

He nodded and bowed his head in such a
slight motion I wasn't sure if I saw it at all. I released his
arm.

A glint of the sun against a second story
window caught my attention and broke the hold casting the spell had
over me. I wanted to panic, sure my distraction had released the
man as well. Yet he secured the envelope in his breast pocket and
smiled.

Still awaiting his commands...

"Go now, sir. You shall be yourself again
once the work is done."

The servant walked away from me then as I
saw movement behind the curtains. I had done what I was meant to
do, and I sighed in relief. I slipped back into the shadows offered
by the trees to start the journey back across town as the
glittering world Tommy lived in disappeared behind me.

***

Wednesday was nothing special. Tommy was
still absent from school, and the other kids would part the way for
me whenever I had to walk by them in the halls. As if the peaceful
Monday I had enjoyed had been nothing more than a figment of my
imagination. I made it through the day, and most of Thursday as
well, once again with same treatment I'd been used to since junior
high school.

After classes on Thursday, Jordan's pack
struck again. I couldn't prove it, but as I approached my locker to
put away the books I wouldn't need, I found the pale yellow surface
of it marred with thick black marker. I stopped in front of it, and
sighed, examining the crude drawing and messages had been left
there.

A stick figure woman was hanging from a
noose, much like the ones drawn when playing
Hangman
. But
this one was different. This one had a ponytail, and a crooked
pointy hat hung in the same unnatural position as her neck. Whoever
had drawn this had also been considerate enough to leave me a
message. The words
Die, witch, die!
and
Thou shalt not
suffer a WITCH to LIVE
Exodus 22:16
framed it. I snorted
as I turned the combination lock and threw my books inside.

Cute. Real damn cute, Jordan.

I had no real proof he wrote those words,
but the whole thing certainly had his stamp of approval written all
over it. I grabbed a marker out of my bag and drew an 'X' through
the
16
, replacing it with
18
.

BOOK: The Witchfinder Wars
9.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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