by Cece Rose
Grey Witch and Halloween Magic - 1
A Grey Witch Series Prequel
Cece Rose
Contents
1. Basic Witch
2. Hot Death
3. Curious Kitten
4. Kiss of Death
5. Lying Pirate
6. Unknowing Thief
7. A Faery Ring
8. Too Perfect
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Cece Rose
Please continue reading for a preview chapter of Black Spells and Twisted Souls…
Black Spells and Twisted Souls
For Meagan, Christina, Kayla, Cassie, Taylor, and Jamie. Happy Halloween, you basic witches. ❤
One
Basic Witch
“Oh my Goddess, Kayla. You are such a basic witch,” Lizzy jokes, eyeing up my costume with a little disdain mixed in with her humour. “A witch dressed up as a witch for Halloween, it’s sacrilegious.”
“But you make such a great witch’s familiar,” I reply, grinning at her own choice in costume. You can’t go wrong with a slutty black cat for Halloween. Cat ears, whiskers drawn on her face, and the tail poking out of her insanely tight black shorts serve as the only evidence to her costume. I can't help the spike of envy that shoots through me at how good she looks. I'd kill to have a figure like hers, all petite and perfect.
The skin-tight black shorts and sparkly black crop top are something I'd never be totally comfortable wearing. Instead, I'm dressed in a short, black skater dress. A witch's hat rests atop my head, and I carry a broom, which I'm sure I'll get bored of carting around with me and abandon at some point during the night. My heels are higher than usual, and their pointed toes definitely make me feel extra witchy. When I told Lizzy I wanted to go as a witch for the irony, she'd quickly opted to dress as my feline familiar. The most common familiar for a witch is a cat after all, and the two of us always wear coordinating Halloween costumes.
Halloween is meant to be a special night for witches, and as such, all the other witches from our coven will partake in a traditional celebration. Lizzy and I do Halloween a little differently, though. We'll be out drinking shots in our cheesy costumes until we can't remember our own names. They won't even know we're missing, considering how many witches gather together on this night every year. They haven't noticed any of the years we've done this so far, anyway. Though, I highly doubt anyone ever even bothers to look for me.
“Whose party is it we're crashing again?” I ask, taking a seat on her bed and placing my witch hat beside me.
“A friend of a friend. His name is Aven. I've only met him once, actually. Light fae, total asshole, but his family has more money than some countries. Paula told me he throws the best parties,” Lizzy responds, applying her red lipstick and making a pouty face in her mirror, before snapping a selfie and winking at herself. With the lipstick applied, her makeup look is complete. Lizzy always leaves her lips till last. My makeup is still only half done. My hair took way too long to tame and get just the right mix of witchy wind-blown and sexy curls.
“If his parties are so good, then why isn't she coming?” I inquire curiously, wondering why we can't just head out to our favourite club's Halloween bash like we usually do. 3-4-1 on shots, yes please.
“Her mother is part of the high coven, you know she can't skip out on these big events like we can. She's too busy being groomed for the role herself one day. Don't sound so whiny about going to the party, Kay. It will be awesome. I heard he had dancing tigers at his last soiree.” Her grin is so wide when she looks at me, I know there’s no chance of me talking her out of this thing.
It can’t be worse than going to the coven’s event, so there’s that at least. I hate those things. It’s never fun going to witch events when you’re a failure as a witch. My magic is weak, and I've never been particularly gifted with learning spells. I know a few basic spells helpful in my everyday life, but other than that, I may as well be human most days.
Lizzy, on the other hand, was always a top of the class type witch. Powerful and willing to work hard, she always uses her natural abilities to their fullest potential. She can cast more high-level spells than I could ever hope to name. It never ceases to amaze me that she wanted to be my friend when we were kids, as opposed to the other witches of her calibre. Despite our differences, we’d been inseparable ever since.
“Stop thinking so damn hard, Kayla!” Lizzy reprimands me, holding out a jello shot. “Halloween is for hard drinking, not for hard thinking.”
I take the shot from her, glaring at the little green thing as it jiggles. This one better be my last before we get to the party. We'd already demolished a bottle of wine and at least eight or nine jello shots between the two of us while getting ready. If I'm not careful, I'll be stumbling into the party, let alone out of it.
Lizzy holds up a brightly coloured jello shot of her own and clinks it against mine. She looks thoughtful for all of a second before grinning wildly. “Let's get smashed,” she toasts, before squeezing the jello shot into her mouth, swallowing the thing whole. I roll my eyes and follow suit, only tasting the lime flavour briefly before it's gone. Despite my reservations and best intentions, I comply when she hands me another shot, orange-flavoured this time.
So much for even stumbling into the party... at this rate, I’ll need someone to carry me.
Two
Hot Death
“Wow,” I mumble, wide-eyed as I run my gaze over the huge ballroom Lizzy just portalled us into.
Loud music pounds through the air, the walls around us vibrating with every beat. Everyone is wearing costumes, some using magic to aid in their outfits, and some just opt for fancy-dress clothes like us. There are people dressed as princesses, goblins, witches, vampires, werewolves, and unless you checked, you'd never know who was in costume and who was the real deal in here.
A smoky purple mist sifts through the air, twirling around the dancing bodies across the room. Lizzy grabs my arm, drawing my attention back to her. She points up at the ceiling, and I follow her direction, my jaw dropping in wonder when I see what caught her attention. Aerial dancers twirl from purple silks hanging from the ceiling. Just as I think the wonder is over, the silk’s colour changes to orange, and so does the skimpy clothing of the dancers. I look down, noting that the mist encircling the party-goers has also changed colour to orange too.
My eyes scan the room again, and I feel a chill run through me as I lock gazes with a man. At least, I think we've locked gazes. I can't really be sure, because he doesn't have a face that I can see.
Dressed as death himself, he wears a black cloak that seems to move like a shadow, and his face is invisible under the hood, just a dark shadow remains there. The only indication there is in fact a man underneath the costume are the hands peeking out from the sleeves of his cloak. His hands wrap around a disturbingly authentic scythe, and I notice an old-fashioned ring on his index finger that I'd put money on being the charm behind his costume.
Intrigued, I pull up my second sight, wanting to get a glimpse of his aura to see what kind of magical being he is. I frown. His aura is dark, and his magic too subtle to be that of an actual magic user. He's a shifter. My eyes focus on the ring, and the magic it holds thrums with an intense power. I chew my bottom lip. I wonder who made the charm for him? Shifters aren't really known for being best buddies with witches, fae, or elves, and I doubt anything else in this world has the power to make that thing.
“Checking out the guy who's face you can't even see, smart move. He could look like anything. What if he looked like our old maths teacher, Mr Baker?” Lizzy whispers in my ear teasingly, an intoxicated giggle slipping out with her words.
Goddess, I truly hope nobody else has to look like our old maths teacher. I'm not usually one to judge people for their looks, but that man needed to wash his hair... and his face... and maybe learn what deodorant is too. Oh well, even if he does look like that, it's not as if I was checking him out. I'd sworn off dating. Too much trouble.
“Lizzy...”
“Just kidding,” she interrupts in a sing-song voice, cutting me off. Frankly, I’m a little too tipsy myself to remember what I was about to say. “I mean, it's not as if anyone else's looks are guaranteed to hold true tonight either,” she adds, giving me a serious look.
She's not wrong. Halloween is one of the few times a year that people are allowed to use magic to dramatically alter their appearance. For obvious reasons, anything more than a complexion charm is considered off limits usually. Can't have witches disguising themselves as someone they hate and robbing their local convenience store.
“He also could be a solid ten under that hood for all you know,” I retort jokingly.
A deep laugh comes from far too close to us. I turn towards the source, feeling my face flush in mortification as I realise the guy in question approached us and now stands directly in front of me. Up close, he’s taller than I expected, towering over me completely. He's broad, too, even underneath his black cloak I can tell that he's got a lot of muscle.
“I'd like to think I'm a 'solid ten,' too. What do you think, Paul?” he asks, directing his question to the man I hadn't noticed standing beside him. He's dressed as a pirate, and I can't help but picture Lizzy's parrot sitting on his shoulder. Not that her parrot would ever let anyone other than Lizzy near it. Lizzy's familiar is super intelligent, and super evil, too, at least as far as I'm concerned. That damn bird took every opportunity to bite me.
“I don't really have to answer that, right?” the man, Paul responds to his friend with a question of his own.
Curious, I take a quick look at his aura, shocked to see that he's one hundred percent human. Who brings a human to a supernatural's party? With the use of magic pretty evident here, this human must be one of the very few trusted with our secret.
“You could always just show us what you look like under there, and let us be the judges,” Lizzy pipes up, before the hooded man can reply. I'm about to say that he doesn't have to do anything, when he turns the ring on his finger, letting the charm drop.
The hood still partially covers his face, but he quickly seems to realise this and pulls it down, letting us get a good look at him. Well, hello. Russet brown hair, that seems to impossibly match the shade of his deep eyes. A strong jaw, and high cheek bones too. There's just a touch of facial hair lining that jaw, a light stubble that only seems to make him more attractive. A solid ten? More like a solid hundred. Damn.
Lizzy wolf whistles in appreciation, and he grins. I'm struck by a slight stab of jealousy at the smile he gives her. Of course he's pleased that she likes how he looks. He probably came over to talk to her anyway.
“And what do you think, wicked witch?” he asks, startling me as he directs his gaze my way.
“My name is Kayla,” I reply, avoiding his question. This guy totally doesn't need another ego boost from me.
“And my name is Darren, but you didn't answer my question.” His lips quirk up again in another grin. Goddess why does he have such a good smile?
“I suppose you look okay, for a shifter anyway. You're not as hairy as most of the shifters I've known,” I respond, trying to down play his looks.
“You know a lot of shifters?” he asks, ignoring my little jibe.
“A few.” I shrug. Shifters weren't exactly social with other races. Especially ones with magic. There are always a few opened-minded outliers, and times when you just can't avoid the contact, but in truth, my experience with shifters is pretty limited.
“Any in the biblical sense?” he inquires, and his friend chokes on a laugh beside him.
It takes a second for my brain to process his meaning, but then my jaw drops. He really didn't just ask that, did he?
“She hasn't,” Lizzy answers for me. I give her an outraged look. Thanks a lot, best friend.
“What a shame for you. If you ever feel like rectifying that, you should give me a call. I’d be happy to oblige.” He winks at me, pulls up his hood, and then turns the ring on his finger again, his face vanishing back into the shadows.
“I don't even have your number,” I reply, before sense hits me, and I realise what I'd just implied. Maybe we shouldn't have finished off all those jello shots before leaving?
Lizzy snorts, leaning against me and hiding her face against my shoulder while hers shake. The second-hand embarrassment clearly proving too much for her to handle.
“Guess you'll just have to ask me for it,” he says, but he’s already stepping away.
“Dream on,” I mutter, knowing his shifter hearing should catch it easily enough.
“Somehow, I don't think I'll have to dream for too long,” he teases. “I'll see you around.”
Me and Lizzy watch in silence as they disappear through the crowd, going goddess only knows where in this mansion of a house. We could probably spend a whole night just exploring this place.
“Smooth, Kayla. So fucking smooth,” Lizzy admonishes me, before dissolving into laughter.
“This is why I don't talk to guys,” I groan, wishing the floor would just swallow me up. “Why do such dumb things come out of my mouth whenever I’m faced with an attractive guy?”
“Because you're only a mere mortal, and he was freaking hot. You should totally go find him.” She wriggles her eyebrows at me suggestively. “You know you want to, Kay.”
“Shut up,” I grumble, my eyes darting around the room looking for a change of topic. When someone moves, I notice a fountain of purple liquid on the far side of the room. There are servers dipping glasses into the flow of liquid before handing them to passers-by. “Reckon it's alcoholic?” I gesture at the fountain before people can step in our line of sight again.
“Only one way to find out,” Lizzy quips, already moving towards it, bouncing a bit in her excitement. As we get closer, I find myself sending a silent prayer to the goddess that it's not too strong if there is indeed alcohol in it. I don't want a repeat of Lizzy's last birthday. I smirk, remembering the kind bouncer that had helped me out by carrying her to the taxi. Lizzy never seems to know her limits.
I feel a shiver run down my back, that inexplicable feeling of being watched. I glance around, my eyes searching for the culprit. I find him, now standing alone in his death costume on the far side of the room. I give him an awkward little wave, before turning and joining Lizzy by the fountain.
The shifter could wait, best friend babysitting duties always come first. Someone has to make sure Lizzy keeps at least some blood pumping in her alcohol stream.
Three
Curious Kitten
“Where the hell are you going?” I demand, chasing after Lizzy as she darts up a set of stairs. Somehow, despite being a drunk, stumbling mess, she moves ridiculously fast. Although, she does have to pause for a second to pick up her cat ears headband when she drops it halfway up.
“It's just so nice here, and this place is so big. I want to explore a little,” she answers, dragging out her words. She ducks under a ‘no entry’ sign hanging from a rope cutting across the top of the stairs and continues on her way like she belongs there. Sighing, I follow suit, clutching my witch's hat in my hand as I dart under the rope, so it doesn't get knocked off. I’d already abandoned my broom somewhere. Maybe it was by the fountain of purple booze? I had felt a little dizzy for a while after that.
She strides down the hallway with confidence, not a care in the world as her eyes dart around taking everything in. I end up looking around in curiosity, too, noticing the beautiful paintings that line the walls. Several are portraits of people, several generations of the family that live here I would assume, considering all the subjects of the artwork appear related. There are
also some stunning landscapes, but none of the things painted could possibly be of Earth. Too impossible, and way too beautiful, to be from this place.
“Do you think these are paintings of the fae world?” I ask Lizzy, unable to stop myself as I’m so in awe of the gorgeous works of art. This stuff belongs in a museum or gallery, not in a person’s home, hidden away from the world. She stops, staring at one of the pieces that caught my gaze. A purple lake serves as the central focus of this painting, with a stunning gold and crystal castle managing to dominate in the background. Tall trees dot the landscape, floating above the ground and their roots hanging below them.
“Maybe it was, but it must be really old if it is, like before their war old. It's meant to be in ruins now, isn't it? That's why the fae are all here,” Lizzy responds. She reaches out to touch the artwork, and I swat her hand away. If it is as old as she thinks, it’s probably priceless, and she shouldn’t be getting her fingerprints all over it.
“We probably shouldn't touch. It’s likely worth more than your house,” I explain, when she gives me an annoyed look. She nods, surprising me by accepting my reasoning on this, at least through her booze haze. She starts moving again, and I resign myself to my fate and follow her without moaning. No matter what I say, she won't come back downstairs. I'd never convince her to do something she doesn't want to do, she's too strong willed. The only way to make her do anything is to first convince her it’s her idea.
“Aven's family all look so much like him,” Lizzy comments, gesturing at one of the paintings. Having not met the host yet myself, I try and imagine what he'd look like based off the others. Light blond, blue-eyed, tanned, but perfectly unblemished skin seems to be a reoccurring theme in all the portraits. Not that it isn't a pretty standard description of most light fae.
