Witch Way Now: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Raising Hell Downunder Book 4)

by Rhiannon Hartley

  "Well, you might find that tricky, there's a small business being run there and—"

  "Small business!" Phillipe repeated, making a sound almost like human laughter. "A small business!"

  Jacob let out a breath and counted to five in his head. Then to ten. He gritted his teeth as he watched Phillipe and Martin take photos of the fence and the road, pointing things out to each other and muttering in an undertone that made it clear they didn't want to be understood.

  Thinking very hard about the evening he had planned with Beatrix later, Jacob managed to plaster on his professional smile once more. "Shall we move on?" he said.

  Martin opened his mouth - a little menthol escaped - but before he could say anything, Jacob heard a sound that made his blood run cold.

  "Gumbo, come back!"

  Jacob stared around frantically. She couldn't be here. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was meant to be busy. Maybe - hopefully - he was having an auditory hallucination. Perhaps he was imagining that he could hear Beatrix because he was so looking forward to a quiet evening with her once these awful Kappa people were gone.

  "Gumbo!"

  Phillipe turned to him, frowning. "What is this?" he said, sounding pinched.

  Jacob was about to answer, but at that moment, more than seventy kilos of brown and black fur bowled into his legs at top speed, and a delighted wet tongue slobbered over his hands as a long tail wagged.

  "Uh, this is Gumbo," Jacob said weakly. "He belongs to a friend, and I guess he must have slipped his lead, and—"

  "That is a proper dog," Phillipe said, looking at Gumbo, who had rolled onto his back and was looking expectantly up at Jacob for scratches, with something almost bordering on respect. "Large. Strong."

  "And not very obedient!" Beatrix's laughing voice joined them suddenly, and Jacob looked up, horrified to see the slender form of Beatrix in her tight jeans, neon high-tops, and ubiquitous ponytail appear. "Gumbo, get back here!" she held up the lead. She looked at Jacob curiously but seemed to understand that he was in the middle of a site tour. "I'll leave you guys to it," she said, inclining her head and clipping Gumbo's lead back to his collar. "We'd better get back to the workshop."

  "Ah!" Martin said suddenly, looking up at her. "You know the landowner?" he said, pointing at her workshop in the distance.

  "I am the landowner," Beatrix grinned. "Beatrix LaGrange, owner and founder of Just Like Magic. Our workshop is just over there."

  Martin ignored that explanation and looked at her shrewdly. "I'm interested in making you an offer," he said, pulling a card from his shirt pocket.

  "I'm not interested in selling," Beatrix said airily.

  "No?" Phillipe said, raising his eyebrows. "But once we have acquired this site, perhaps you would change your mind."

  "Wait, you're going to buy this site?" Beatrix said, frowning and whirling her head to look at Jacob. "But I thought you were just leasing—"

  "We're not interested in leases," Martin said, thrusting the card into her hand. "Only land purchases. We're prepared to be extremely generous. And after all, I don't think you'd want us as neighbours."

  "Jacob, what is he talking about?" Beatrix said, ignoring Martin and looking right at him, her face suddenly pale. Far too pale.

  "I, uh," Jacob began, his voice suddenly dry and his throat feeling like it was collapsing in on itself. "We're discussing a land sale, due to their specific project requirements," he croaked. "Nothing confirmed, but—"

  "We're planning to move ahead," Martin went on. "Get all of this bush cleared for a start."

  "Kappa," Beatrix suddenly said, looking down at the card. "You're from Kappa?"

  "Yes," Phillipe said. "I see you've heard of us." He made that horrible sound like an approximation of laughter once more.

  "I see," Beatrix said, her mouth set into a very thin, hard line. Jacob could see that her knuckles, tightly gripping Gumbo's lead were very white. But she didn't say anything to him. Didn't even look at him. "I was unaware that this was happening," she went on, still deathly pale but her voice steady and icy cold.

  "Perhaps Jacob is not a good friend to you," Phillipe smirked. "A good friend would have told you how much you could gain, yes?"

  "We're not friends," Beatrix said tightly. Her pale blue eyes seemed to look right through Jacob as she raised her chin. "If you'll excuse me." She turned, pulling on Gumbo's lead.

  "We'll be in touch," Martin called after her.

  Beatrix didn't turn around.

  Jacob felt like all the breath had been knocked out of his lungs as he watched her go. He suddenly wished he had told her, right from the beginning. Maybe she would have been angry with him for even entertaining the offer, but anything - anything at all - would have been better than her finding out like this.

  20 Beatrix

  It took every bit - every single morsel - of self-control Beatrix possessed to stop herself from cursing Jacob and his friends from Kappa right then and there. She wanted to. She more than wanted to. She could feel the magic rising up inside her, threatening to burst out and shower them all in her fury.

  But she wasn't that kind of a witch, was she? She had promised herself she'd never use her powers on unsuspecting Ordinaries. Even ones who so thoroughly deserved it.

  When she had looked at Jacob, she had had the strangest feeling. Like she didn't know him at all. Like the man who had shared her home and her bed, and who was dangerously close to capturing her heart, was a total stranger. A stranger wearing Jacob's face, Jacob's neatly ironed khakis, Jacob's sensible work boots.

  "Let's get back, Gumbo," Beatrix said as she made her way through the trees and back towards the workshop. Her voice was tight, and her eyes felt glassy, and she knew the tears that were threatening would spill out soon.

  She threw open the double doors, and Shauna looked up at her, surprised.

  "Oh hello Bea," she said. "I thought you'd be busy all day with your mum. But now that you're here, could you have a look at—"

  "No," Beatrix said, her voice still tight. "Shauna, I need you to go."

  "What's happened?" Shauna asked, looking at her with an expression of tender concern. "Oh, hun, is it something with Jacob? With your mum?"

  "I need you to go," Beatrix repeated, fighting to contain that whirling chasm of fury and power inside her.

  "What's happening?" Onyx suddenly appeared, taking off his headphones. "Are you okay? You look upset."

  "I really need you both to leave," Beatrix said, her voice almost a plea. "I can't... I'm not... It isn't safe for you two to be here, with me right now. I can't... I don't know I can contain this."

  Onyx's eyes widened, and he took Shauna firmly by the arm. "We need to go," he said.

  "What?" Shauna frowned. "Bea's clearly not okay. We can't leave her alone—"

  "We can and we should," Onyx said, not a hint of his usual mysticism in his words. "When powerful witches get upset, it's like they can't fully control their magic. I've seen it before."

  Shauna looked like she wanted to say something else, but she let Onyx guide her to the doors.

  Beatrix didn't move, didn't make a sound until she heard the noise of Onyx's extremely rusty sedan and Shauna's sensible minivan start up and drive away. Then she let herself collapse onto the ground, unable to support her limbs for even a moment longer.

  And she screamed. It was an echoing, hellish screech that rattled the windows and made the air suddenly cold. If Beatrix had huffed out a breath, she would have been able to see it hanging there in the freezing air.

  She wanted to tear out her hair, throw one of her vats of bubbling lavender through a window, or maybe hurl a Molotov cocktail at Jacob's nice car. She wanted to singlehandedly burn down the Kappa Headquarters, no matter that it was thousands of miles of ocean away. She wanted to destroy, to take vengeance, to let out the rage inside her.

  But instead of doing any of those things, Beatrix began to cry. Sitting alone on the polished concrete floor, she let out the tears that had
been threatening to spill. She cried until she was gasping for air, until her eyes were red, her throat was dry and scratchy, and she felt like there couldn't be a single drop of moisture left inside her to force out even one more tear.

  Then she cried some more.

  Everything she had thought about Jacob was a lie. He had been a liar, right from the beginning. When those bright green eyes had been fixed on her, they had been lying to her soul, to her very being. He had made her think he was different. That he was someone she could trust. Someone she could let herself love.

  And he had betrayed her.

  Beatrix gasped out loud, clutching at her chest as her heart threatened to burst out and onto the ground in front of her, ready to drown in her tears.

  "He was a liar," she croaked, rocking back and forth. "Just a liar. He didn't—" fresh sobs overwhelmed her. "He didn't care about me," she finished, and her whole body was wracked with dry, heaving sobs. "He never did."

  Beatrix lay there on the concrete floor, her chest heaving with her sobs. All she wanted was to pass out. She would have been delighted if someone had given her a potent sleeping tablet or even punched her in the face, so long as everything would go blissfully black and she didn't have to think, didn't have to be in her body while she thought about what Jacob had done.

  She didn't want to move. Actually, lying here all night sounded like a pretty solid plan. She definitely wasn't going to move. Except—

  A frantic scratching and whining.

  Beatrix lifted her head just a fraction, but there was no mistaking the sound of that much dog trying to get free from his run next to the workshop. Her heart ached in her chest. Gumbo had heard her crying, and he wanted to be with her and comfort her in the way that only a huge and not especially clever dog could.

  "I'm coming, buddy," she said quietly, and with a considerable effort, pushed herself to her feet. She felt curiously empty, like she had cried out all her feelings, all of her insides, and everything inside of her was now on the concrete floor. All she could do was put one foot in front of the other and allow Gumbo to give her all of his licky, sloppy affection.

  ✽✽✽

  The empty feeling hadn't lasted. Beatrix's emotions - her anger, shame, hurt, betrayal - had all come hideously and horribly back up to the surface as she had walked Gumbo back up to her house. But in her home, at least, Beatrix had ways of getting rid of feelings.

  That was why Agnes found her on the sofa with very red eyes, the enormous Gumbo sitting on her feet, half-way through a bottle of what Wade had assured her was a calming potion of his own creation. Beatrix was, however, fairly sure it was just box wine with liquid cannabis added.

  But that hadn't stopped her from drinking it.

  "My child!" Agnes stood at her feet like an incredibly green apparition. "What has happened?"

  "Mum?" Beatrix frowned her vision a little hazy. "I thought you'd be busy until late."

  "Daughter, I felt your distress!" Agnes said, clutching her bosom with one heavily ringed hand. "Felt your pain, like a knife to my heart, my child. I knew you had suffered terribly, and nothing - no mortal bonds - could keep me from your side."

  "Oh," Beatrix said dully. "And are your friends...gone?"

  "I have postponed our spell-casting," Agnes said graciously, like it was a huge personal favour. "For now. It pains me, but you are my priority."

  "I see," Beatrix said. She didn't want to talk to her mother. She didn't want to talk to anyone, actually. She just wanted to sit on her couch with her gigantic dog and get drunk-stoned until she passed out, thank you very much.

  "But let's not talk about my distress," Agnes said, nodding gravely. "For you have suffered, daughter. What has happened to you? I felt your pain. Is it... Has that Ordinary done something to you?"

  Beatrix let out a groan and waved a hand in front of her face like she could make her mother disappear by sheer force of will.

  "He did, didn't he?" Agnes pressed, striding in front of the sofa angrily and making Beatrix's double vision all the more confusing. "What did he do, daughter? Has he taken another lover? Stolen from you? Has he hurt you? Daughter, if he dared lay one finger on you, I will—"

  "He didn't!' Beatrix said quickly. "Mum, I really don't want to talk about it," she said, taking another sip of the wine. "Please just leave me alone. I wasn't expecting you back, I just need to—"

  "You need your mother," Agnes admonished. "You need my care, daughter."

  She plucked the potion bottle from Beatrix's limp grip and sniffed it. "Drugs!" she said accusingly. "Oh Beatrix, how could you poison yourself like this?"

  Beatrix thought that was pretty rich from someone who consumed tea made from poppy seeds and magic mushrooms every morning, but she didn't want to fight about that particular point. "It's just a homemade wine to help with relaxation," she protested. "Wade made it."

  "Well, that explains it," Agnes said, raising her eyebrows and holding the potion out of her reach. "Now, daughter, you must tell me what has happened. It pains me to see you so distressed." Agnes's face was a theatrical mask of sympathy, but Beatrix knew that she really did mean it. On some level, anyway.

  "Jacob, he..." Beatrix began, but sobs threatened, welling up in her throat and making it close over. She swallowed hard, trying again. "He... He's selling the site. To..." blinking back tears. "To Kappa. And they'll bulldoze it all, and they want to buy my land too. He told me he'd protect the bushland, but—"

  "He betrayed you," Agnes said, points of colour in her cheeks. Her body jingled as she strode angrily across the room. "That Ordinary lied to you, daughter, and betrayed you."

  Beatrix took a deep breath. "Yes," she whispered. "And I thought he...I really cared...I..." At that point, though, the sobs were inevitable. Not even half a bottle of Wade's unique concoction could keep them back. She let the sobs take her body, making her shudder and retch. Gumbo let out a sympathetic howl, snuffling his long nose against her cheek, licking up her tears as they fell, and she wrapped her arms around him, glad for the comfort.

  And then she felt another hand on her, rubbing circles on her back.

  "I am sorry, daughter," Agnes said quietly. "If I could take your suffering away, I would."

  Beatrix swallowed hard. "Thanks, Mum," she whispered. This was what she wanted right now. Not the most powerful witch on the Eastern Seaboard, but just her mum, comforting her because a boy had broken her heart.

  But Agnes didn't comfort her for long, rising back to her full height and resuming her jingling stride.

  "What vengeance have you taken?" she said, looking at Beatrix shrewdly. "Perhaps a curse upon his manhood? Something to silence his lying tongue? Boils? You always were good at boils."

  "No!" Beatrix choked out, managing to sit up. "No, I didn't... I wouldn't."

  "Well, you can't possibly be planning to let him get away with this betrayal, unscathed," Agnes said, tossing her long hair. "You must teach him a lesson, daughter. Teach him what the consequences are of betraying a witch."

  "I don't... You know I would never do something like that to an Ordinary," Beatrix said, although she had to admit she had gone through her mental list of curses and imagined applying each and every one to Jacob in turn.

  "But he deserves it!" Agnes pointed her finger at Beatrix. "You cannot let him get away with this! I told you, daughter, I told you time and again that you cannot trust Ordinaries. Not with your heart, of all things."

  "I know," Beatrix said, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "But I thought he was different, I thought—"

  "You foolishly gave your heart to him and look what has happened!" Agnes cried, waving Wade's potion bottle in the air so that droplets flew out and onto the polished floor. "He must be punished! Made to pay for what he has done!"

  "I just want to be alone," Beatrix protested. "I don't want to..."

  "If you will not take action, then I will," Agnes said. "Where is he?"

  "No, Mum," Beatrix said, suddenly feeling sick. "I know he'
s...I know he's an asshole, but don't do anything to him."

  "You would protect him, even now?" Agnes was furious. "You cannot still care for him after this betrayal!"

  "I don't!" Beatrix said quickly, but inside she knew that wasn't true. When she thought of Jacob, her heart ached for the man she had thought he was. The man she cared for so much. "But you can't, Mum. He's an Ordinary. Just leave him alone."

  "He chose to hurt my daughter, knowing full well what she was," Agnes thundered. "And so he is a fair target. He knows of magic. He is no innocent, Beatrix."

  "Please don't, Mum," Beatrix said, and she held her mother's gaze, looking into those seemingly ancient, fathomless eyes. "Please just let me handle it. I'm a grown woman, I don't... I want to do this on my own."

  Agnes was silent for a long time, as though considering.

  "I will do as you wish, daughter," she said finally. "Provided that you do deal with him."

  "I will," Beatrix said. "I..." she faltered. Did she even want to talk to him? Hear whatever bullshit excuse he was cooking up? Would he even try to apologise? Did he care enough to try?

  Beatrix tried to take the wine from the table where her mother had thankfully set it down, but Agnes was too quick and grabbed it from her.

  "No, my daughter," she said. "I cannot allow you to poison yourself. You need a soothing tea, not this swill."

  "I'd really rather–" Beatrix said, looking longingly at the bottle.

  "I will make you a soothing tea," Agnes repeated, and Beatrix sighed. There was no use arguing, and maybe she could allow her mother to take care of her, just this once.

  "Fine," Beatrix sighed, wrapping her arms around Gumbo. "I'll have tea."

  21 Jacob

  Jacob wasn't entirely sure how he managed to conduct the rest of the site tour. He didn't remember it afterwards, but there were no angry phone calls from his father demanding to know why he had scared off the Kappa representatives. He could only assume that he had done a good enough job.

  It was all a blur. Gumbo appearing from the trees, the sickening realisation that Beatrix must be just behind him. The look on her face. Her tight, cold voice. The way she had said that they weren't friends, and it had sounded like a fact. And maybe it was true. Would a friend have done to Beatrix what he had?