No Witch Way Out
Mercedes Jade
Contents
Author’s Note
Prologue
1. Dream of Me
Elizabeth
2. Poker Face
Philip
3. Crazy Likes Company
Elizabeth
4. Fly Away
5. Fall For Me
6. The Darkness
Victoria
7. Cold, Hard Reality
8. Buried Pain
9. The Drunken Tattoo
Elizabeth
10. Familiar To Me
11. Ashes to Ashes
Undeclared
12. Pennies for your Thoughts
Elizabeth
13. All That Glitters is not Gold
14. Voices in my Head
15. The Dragon & Fox
16. Shot of Wisdom
Torsten
17. End of the World as We Know It
Elizabeth
18. If I could Turn Back Time
Daemon
19. Playing with Danger
Elizabeth
20. Broadsided by Regret
21. November Rain
Torsten
22. Catch a Tiger by the Tail
Jill
23. Backdraft
Phillip
24. Stripped Down
Elizabeth
25. Hot Little Liar
26. Working it Out
27. Bite Me
28. Red String of Fate
Victoria
29. The Secret
Daemon
30. A Son’s Love
31. Rocky Introduction
Victoria
32. Heard but not Seen
33. Honey or Vinegar
Elizabeth
34. Sisterly Bond
35. Touch Me
36. Prince Beast
Phillip
37. Deal with the Devil
Jill
38. Come Undone
Victoria
39. Childhood Monsters
40. Dream Lover
Daemon
Witch Darkness Follows
Main Cast of Characters
Elemental Magic
Glossary of Terms
Also by Mercedes Jade
Acknowledgments
About the Author
This is a work of fiction.
First edition. Oct 2018.
Updated version Oct 2020.
Copyright © 2018 Mercedes Jade.
Written by Mercedes Jade.
Jutta and Paula. Thank you for not letting me give up.
Author’s Note
This book is written in Canadian English.
If you find any typos or have other concerns about formatting or grammar, please forward them directly to me at my email for prompt attention:
[email protected]
I would be thrilled to hear from you!
This is a reverse harem romance, meaning the main female character will find happiness with more than one guy. She doesn’t have to choose only one.
There is a cast of characters, glossary, and elemental magic classification at the end of the book for your reference.
Changes in location and narration will be denoted in the subhead of each chapter. Unlike the first book, this one features many narrators as there are more interwoven storylines.
Prologue
Childhood
Blood and Tears
Elizabeth’s severe, childhood anemia had started in infancy.
Many witches were weak in magic. Their blood was less powerful than that of male elementals, but still chocked full of protein to bind what magic they possessed.
Anemia was almost unheard of in a female that age. Why would she need so much blood when her magic was weak?
Witchlings had modest magic needs that never outstripped their blood.
Never.
Elizabeth used air for performing tricks. She would float her soother from wherever her mother had hidden it and blow raspberries across the room.
Perhaps her mewling power was so insignificant that its demands were ignored.
It wasn’t enough to stimulate production of the magic-binding protein.
Her blood failed.
Anemia was usually a sign of overusing magic, but how could this be in a witchling?
Instead of questioning the imbalance, it was determined the anemia was another sign of Elizabeth’s weakness.
Her father was rightfully appalled that his firstborn continued to barely muster a breeze.
Along with solids, Elizabeth was started on a dreaded orange flavoured iron supplement to wean her from her mother. Rich witch blood was wasted on a weakling.
She paled and failed to thrive.
It was as her father had predicted. Some children weren’t meant to live.
He overrode her mother’s complaints and insisted fate be allowed to decide for their firstborn.
It must have been disappointing when Elizabeth persisted. There was a fight, yet, in her quiet body.
She gained weight as average, sat up as average, and even took her first steps as average, letting go to toddle a few days before she turned one years old.
Her anemic magic never kept pace.
Still, she was one! The naming ceremony at a year of age was impossible to delay.
Elizabeth’s name would finally become more than a whisper in her mother’s mind.
Her father put his foot down. Instead of the usual pomp to announce Elizabeth to the world, her name was silently inscribed on the noble register and witnessed by a couple of servants.
Her mother was allowed to write it, though her father forbade anyone from speaking it out loud.
A name might give Elizabeth the strength that her magic lacked.
Hope and Luck
Jill was born with cautious anticipation just months after Elizabeth’s first birthday. A loud cry brought a smile to their mother’s lips.
The new baby's earth proved extraordinarily strong. Jill healed her own foot prick before the nurses could get the drop of blood needed for the exchange to fasten the maternal bond.
Her mother called for her eldest and husband to come closer to witness her joy.
Elizabeth felt her hand had become lost in her father’s bigger one as they had hidden in the corner of the room, Elizabeth peeking between the birth attendants at the busy labour.
She threw off her father’s hold as her mother called them forth. Proudly holding her head high, she made her way past the tasters, also waiting to see Jill.
Elizabeth knew Jill was perfect at first sight.
The baby didn’t have words. Elizabeth only had a few herself at that age, but thoughts didn’t need words to communicate. Not for Elizabeth.
Happiness, safety, and comfort were conveyed with warm colours by Elizabeth’s imagination.
Jill’s high-pitched cries from having her foot poked were loud. Elizabeth touched the sore spot the nurses had wounded. Sudden calm surprised everyone for a moment.
None questioned it. A startled giggle and it was forgotten, the nurses cooing over the baby once more.
Elizabeth was pulled up to sit beside her mother and Jill on the bed, while the nurses attempted another foot prick.
The three of them were together. It was one of the most wonderful moments of her life.
Tasters from Jill’s birth ceremony were asked to test for Elizabeth’s magic, one more time, before they left.
It wasn’t that extraordinary a request. All witches had tastings at birth, and again, at a harem ceremony, or before the initiation of any other courtship. It was to ensure the right magic
match.
Elizabeth was declared ordinary again. The royal fire taster didn’t bother with Elizabeth, after the other tasters confirmed her weak air.
He placated the anxious parents with promises that Jill had blue fire at birth.
It was the most a witchling could hope to obtain. A royal harem position serving the fire princes was nearly guaranteed, if that was what the parents wished.
Of course, her father did.
Elizabeth’s hand was never held in her father’s overlarge one again.
She had a new sister and her father had always kept some distance, so she didn’t think it strange. She only remembered when she reached out and he ignored her that they didn’t hold hands any longer.
The firstborn was forgotten. A mistake that her father had corrected.
He showed off his newest witchling to all the naysayers who had cautioned him to put aside a wife who didn’t breed true.
Their castle was opened to friends and family to celebrate their blessing.
The fuss over Jill gave Elizabeth more freedom. Elizabeth was content to play on her own while sharing everything she learned with Jill through their minds.
No longer was Elizabeth truly alone, even if she was sometimes overlooked.
Part of my World
Elizabeth’s young mind grew as quickly as her body. A toddler had an innate curiosity that fed her mind. Silence was difficult to endure.
If her father wasn’t listening, she would try a few words.
Instinct and her natural magic made forming thoughts easier than words to communicate.
The complex, electrical pathways of the brain could be as difficult to learn as spoken language.
Magic found the connections, gave her ways to talk, without garnering her father’s irritated attention.
She was small for her age. Jill quickly caught up in height, then surpassed her in talking out loud.
Elizabeth’s tentative nature, always thinking and questioning internally, was mistaken as a lack of wits that matched her short stature.
Her head was a jumble of everyone's thoughts, all of the time and all at once, filtered only by touching the person she wanted to hear the most.
The lightning created chaos. It reinforced the impression of a slow mind.
Her powerful magic was never meant for a child to wield, unaided.
It was her sister and her mother that made things tolerable.
Elizabeth enjoyed time spent together with Jill, reading a book, while sitting on her mother’s lap.
Jill never said how her sister made the book come to life. Elizabeth kept quiet, so her sister could shine as she learned to read.
Slowly, Elizabeth developed the skills to tune out the chatter of other minds.
She worked to ignore snide remarks. She hummed a lullaby to herself at night, so the never-ending buzzing in her head would be drowned out and allow her to sleep.
Jill always had the best thoughts in her mind. Those were ideas Elizabeth never locked out, eager to play as long as her younger sister was awake.
Some children talked across their beds at night, but Elizabeth and Jill communicated silently, together, despite being separated into different rooms.
They almost slipped into their dreams at the same time.
As soon as they woke, it all started over again.
Learning. Growing. Dreaming.
The adults were ignorant. They would never guess Elizabeth was reading their thoughts.
She was too immature to realize they would not want her to hear everything.
It became a secret between young sisters, and with a pinkie-sworn promise, the power a hidden wonder.
Elizabeth created fantastic worlds to pretend-play with Jill during the long hours their parents spent at court.
Castles with unicorns for each of them to ride. Sparkly, pink gowns with fairy wings. Ambrosia and tea parties.
They were all a joy to create with Elizabeth’s lightning instinctively firing the neurons needed to make everything real to their eyes and hands.
The Norwood sisters eventually called Elizabeth’s lightning ‘imagination.’
It had the power to create worlds.
They never realized it could also tear worlds apart.
Dream of Me
Human Realm
Elizabeth
Escape from Maeren had only been an illusion, one already ripping itself apart with reality.
There were dreams, such fantasies.
Elizabeth hated them. They reminded her of what she had lost, teasing her with how her life could have gone if she’d lived the fairytale that had been in her reach.
Reality harshly contrasted with the make-believe stories of princes and princesses, with happy endings.
Of all people, Elizabeth understood that imagination had its limits.
A dream was a heart’s wish, and hers had been broken.
Her mind still insisted that as long as her heart beat on, the memories of her tragic love would replay each night. They were gently twisted into a beautiful happiness that was bitter to behold in the morning.
Like a skipping record, her dreams always started at the same scratched rut.
A smile.
A prince ought not to smile so bright. It was gauche. There were prestige and power enough in his position, without the blatantly false window dressing.
It irked her when she dreamed of Daemon at another ball, meeting her for the first time, but with the pomp and pageantry that a true fairytale Cinderella deserved.
His joy beamed as he accepted her hand for a proper kiss to the wrist. There was a tiny prick of discomfort from his fangs, as he tasted her lightning, then gave the wound a fiery lick before asking for a blood bonded promise of more.
Sparks literally lit up between them.
She usually smothered them out in a frantic body hug, with extra pats and using enough force to beat the dust from an earth lord’s cloak, then she noticed the lack of heat from his body, squeezed so tight to hers.
The dreams always ended when she realized it was all too good to be true.
It wasn’t only Elizabeth that suffered a tormented sleep, although the rest of them might wish themselves the sweet, fake memories that danced through Elizabeth’s dreams.
They had been running ever since their family’s return to the human realm, with one stubborn hostage in tow, and now, there was nowhere left to go where the repercussions of their actions couldn’t catch up.
Betrayal had become a double-edged sword. It cut them back as sharply as they had ruthlessly cut down others to make their escape from the dangerous royal court of Maeren.
The traitorous poisonings weighed heavily on their souls. They were left bleeding their regrets, hearts and minds echoing the fear that they never truly got away.
Jill’s night terrors woke everyone the first night back to the human realm. It was their mother that reached Jill first, a fretful sleeper herself, despite her earth sensibilities.
The restlessness wasn’t new to their family, but it was rearing an ugly, swelling head that threatened to infect them all.
Elizabeth had been keeping an ear out, already awake herself after dreaming of Daemon and hearing the sound of a limping gait walking past her room.
The subtle feel of air magic as her mother checked that Jill’s breathing was slow and steady was almost soothing, routine.
A simple rearrangement of Jill’s blanket and a soothing touch would settle the simpler terrors without waking Jill into confusion and a full panic attack.
Victoria had rushed into Jill’s bedroom with fire blazing from her hands. Their hostage rushed to the rescue of her poisoner, and then she grumbled about a lumpy mattress when she found Jill safe with her mother.
Elizabeth had guiltily sprung out of bed to order Victoria to put out the flames before she burned their house down. She had shot Jill’s night-terror clenched body a worried glance.
Vengeance from the Maerenian royals was sure to be swift if
their hide-away was discovered.
Tick, tock. Every stroke of the clock as her family slept was another second closer to the sentence Elizabeth had doomed them to when she failed to stake her target.
Jill had screamed the next night, seemingly louder and longer.
Victoria called for her twin in her sleep. She cried and washed the tears from her face each morning before the rest of them got up, although the bathroom tap turned on with a noisy spurt that none of their restless ears could miss.
They had stacked fluffy, white face cloths for the homesick princess by the sink.
By the third night, there was an air-barrier around her mother’s room.
Elizabeth felt it go up once Jill was settled, keeping the rest of them locked out of her mother’s nightmares for the few hours of rest she forced upon herself.
That same night, Jill had nearly collapsed the walls of their house as her night terrors incorporated her magic.
It had only got worse, denial of their helpless terrors just feeding tensions that strained their minds.
Victoria begged demons. She sobbed desperate, dark secrets in her sleep, the truth of how her skin had gotten so scarred and marked.
Dark circles ravaged underneath their mother’s clear, blue eyes. She bought concealer and told Elizabeth it was time a woman her age replaced the fading blush of youth with a spot of bottled beauty.
No Witch Way Out (Maeren Series Book 2) Page 1
