“Duke!” Hazel unclasped the hands holding hers and shoved her way closer, draping her body onto his, her lips on his lips, her hands on his face. “Duke, Duke, Duke.”
“I’m here,” he croaked.
“You’re here.” She smiled down at him. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought you left me behind.”
He shook his head, licking his dry lips and trying for a smile, which looked more pain than pleasure. “Nah, I was here the whole time.”
30
“I’ve been meaning to ask…” Hazel had her arm entwined with Duke’s as they strolled through Witch City, Salem. “Where’d you learn astral projection? I mean, that’s what that was, right? You were there, I didn’t imagine that.”
Duke chuckled, squeezing her hand as he wrapped it around his forearm. “No, you didn’t imagine it. A tribe in Africa taught me actually. Or at least I tried to learn. Hadn’t realized I knew how to do it until I was doing it.”
“So there won’t be a repeat performance?”
“I don’t know… I’m not exactly sure how I did it. I think…perhaps we should go there on a field trip see if maybe that’s a skill you can pick up.”
“Another field trip?” Hazel patted his hand. “The new Great Mother arrives tomorrow. I’ve heard rumors.”
“Ah yes, Mother Stone. I’ve heard rumors too.” Duke winked. “Guess we’ll have to see what the new sheriff decides is appropriate for a first year intern.”
“Hey, I am the Promised One.”
He swept her up in his arms, halting their walk in the middle of a throng of tourists. “No, sweetie, you were the Promised One. That job has been filled for another fifty years at least.”
He dipped his head down, pulling her closer into his body, loving how she fit there, snuggled in close. He kissed her softly, tenderly, lips pressed to lips, opening himself and giving her all the love in his heart.
She sighed as she pulled away. “I could do that forever.”
He tucked her under his arm again and moved them forward.
“Where are we going?”
With everything that had happened, Duke and Hazel hadn’t had much time alone together. And with the new Mother on her way, Duke had a feeling things were going to get hectic again before they settled. So he wanted to take Hazel somewhere special.
“Remember that place I told you I found?” He moved them down one of the side alleys, bypassing the crowds.
It wasn’t as busy in the city this time of year as it was around October, but there were still more people than usual. Probably because of the excitement of what was happening at White Willow. Despite the fact that the witch world was shrouded in secrecy, most of the Pagans knew exactly what was going on. Rumors flew faster than magic most of the time. They were flocking in to celebrate the arrival of new leadership and he knew that there was a hope, perhaps farfetched, that this leader would be more open to the humans rather than shunning them as Mother Knight had.
“The fairy place?” Hazel asked, her hand on his chest as they strolled. “It’s around here?”
“It’s not a fairy place.” He chuckled. “But yeah, it’s here and it’s special. I think you’re going to love it.”
He turned them down another cobbled walkway. It had taken him some time to hunt it down. Over the years he’d found veils separating these little bubbles of space in many different places. Sometimes in forests with sparkling waterfalls, sometimes at the edge of a desert where an oasis with crystal clear water and shady palms existed. This time, as was fitting for Salem, it was a little crooked house, nestled between two buildings.
“Do you feel that?” It was a tickle against his skin, like a warning but without the trepidation.
He’d stopped them just where the front door was, a gaping black maw between a spell shop and a bookstore. Completely concealed if you didn’t know what you were looking for.
“It’s here?” Hazel was grinning. “It feels heavy with magic. Is this it? An alley?” She winked at him.
He waved his hand, opening the veil. “Not an alley.”
The house was one story, basic design, with two steps leading to the front door. It matched the architecture surrounding it, like the magic had adapted to its surroundings, building this space to fill a need, or used the magic that was hanging around. It implied sentient magic, thinking on its own to adapt to the surroundings and use the magic stores that were floating around. It was an interesting concept and something to explore, study perhaps, but not now. Now was all about Hazel.
“Want to go in?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead moving them both up the steps and opening the front door.
Inside were creaky wooden floors, a wood stove that already had a fire burning, giving off warmth and a muted light that made the space feel cozy and welcoming. There was a huge bed in the middle of the room, with piles of fluffy pillows and a duvet that Duke knew was plush and soft. The mattress you could sink in. But the centrepiece of the place was a grand window at the back that somehow had a complete view of Salem forest, despite the reality of being in the middle of the city.
“How is this even possible?” Hazel was clearly awestruck, gaping as she moved toward that window, her hand out to touch the bedding as she walked past. “You think there’s some kind of time shift?”
He’d guessed that was going on when he first started discovering these places. Like the magic shifted them back in time somehow, when the forest surrounded Salem and the city itself had been just a small cluster of houses.
“It’s magic.” He gathered her up in his arms. “And it’s ours.”
She stared up at him. “No one else knows about this place?”
“I’ve been finding these magic spots for years, and never have I encountered another witch or human here. It’s possible that it’s our little secret, at least for now. Empaths are rare. Maybe it speaks only to my kind of magic.”
“And no one can find us here.” Hazel hugged him then, pressing her face to his chest. He sighed into the hug, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “I can’t imagine a better place to be.”
“Me neither.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head.
“I know I was awful,” she whispered, her voice almost lost in the folds of his sweater. “Spoiled, ignorant, wilful.”
He shifted back a bit, using his fingers to tilt her head up so he could look at her. “All those things.” He smirked, then kissed the tip of her nose.
“Thank you for not giving up on me, on us.” She lifted her hand to his cheek. “I love you, always have.”
“I would have chased you until the end of time. You’re my soul mate, Hazel. You don’t just walk away from love like that.”
He lifted her to the bed, before settling her down so he could crawl up her body, loving how she giggled, how her hands ran up and down his arms, how hungry her lips were when he kissed her.
They took their time removing clothes. Pants off so he could kiss the inside of her thigh, shirt off so she could lick her way over his stomach, her fingers trailing down just to the edge of his jeans. He loved how delicate her skin was, flawless and smooth. He couldn’t touch it enough, teasing with feather kisses until she giggled more.
She sighed as he settled between her legs, breathing in her sweet scent as he spread her pussy open to his tongue. Kissing her clit before licking and flicking, eager to make her writhe as she did so prettily.
She had her hands on her tits, stroking herself to the peaks before pinching her nipples. She was watching him too, her head bent to the side so she could see what he was doing to her. He loved that.
As she shuddered through the first rise of her climax, he released her from his mouth and moved up so that he could slide his aching cock home. The feel of her pussy clamping down hard on him, her moan as he stroked her climax so that it would build to an explosion for only him made every second of torture worth it.
“I’ll never get enough of you, village girl.” He kissed her smile, sucking away th
e groan as he pounded into her fiercely until they were both crying out with sudden and complete release.
31
Hazel was seated in the intern’s lounge, drinking her latte and wondering where the others were. They couldn’t be late. This was day one of Mother Stone’s rounds. Hazel had yet to meet the woman but she’d heard things…
“There you are.” Mahdyia walked through the door, her arms loaded with boxes. Before Hazel could get up and help, she’d dumped them on the floor. “New uniforms, apparently.”
Hazel nudged one of the boxes closer. “Have you seen her yet?”
Mahdyia’s eyes darkened and she snagged Hazel’s coffee from her hand and took a sip between words. “Yeah, from a distance.” She cringed.
“That bad?”
“You got enough sugar in this thing?” Mahdyia laughed, shoving the empty paper cup back at Hazel. “Ick!”
“Mads!” Hazel tossed the cup in the garbage. “How bad is she?”
“Well, she doesn’t look anything like your mother. Her hair is red and curly. Kinda wild actually. And she has a crowd around her. Someone with hair like that can’t be bad.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Hazel said. “I’m sure she has all the usual ass kissers trying to get in good.”
“No.” Mahdyia’s tone was doubtful. “It didn’t look like the usual bunch.”
“Are you guys ready?” Chanda and Tate burst into the room, Chanda’s words rushed and urgent. “She’s coming!”
“Who’s coming?” Bas stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and a who gives a shit expression on his face.
Hazel didn’t buy it. They all knew who was coming.
And suddenly there she was. Mother Stone standing in the doorway, her eyes moving purposefully over the crowd of them, only to settle on the boxes practically blocking the entrance way.
Tate and Chanda scrambled to move them.
“I see the shipment of uniforms has arrived.” Mother Stone’s voice was cool but her smile was bright. Her skin was freckled and her hair a vibrant red with corkscrew curls that framed her face and came to jagged halts just past her ears. Her eyes were dark, maybe blue, but Hazel couldn’t tell. “Open the box please.”
Tate thought she was talking to him but when he went to do it, someone else moved forward. A person in a blue cloak, hood covering his or her head, who’d been standing behind Mother Stone, stepped forward to follow her orders.
Mother Stone moved farther into the room, allowing for her entourage to come in as well. There were six in total, including the one currently opening the box.
The magic signatures were unique. Hazel detected…humans?
“Interns, I’ve heard great things about you all.” She motioned for her helper to pull out one of the uniforms. “These will be your new clothes for the duration of your training.”
Black. Cotton looking. Hospital scrubs?
“The color was chosen on purpose. Black, as I’m sure you know, acts to absorb and nullify some magics. The cloth as well as been infused with rosemary and hawthorne to protect against energy attacks.”
Hazel tried to keep her expression neutral. Herbs and colors? That was human magic.
“Is this for real?” Bas blurted, taking a step forward as if to argue with the Great Mother. “Human wards?”
Mother Stone turned her head slightly to address him, her smile not fading but her eyes narrowing. “Bas Frank.” She continued before he could answer. “I knew your mother.”
And that was all she had to say to shut him up. With wide eyes, he stepped back to his place.
“And Hazel Knight.” She gave Hazel a once-over, seemingly not impressed. “You have quite a reputation to overcome.”
Hazel startled, not expecting those words. “I do?” To overcome?
“I’ve always found…” Her smile turned wistful. “That the bigger the ego, the more there is to learn. And you, dear, what with your history, have quite an ego to shed. Not to worry though. I plan to dedicate myself to improving your skill.”
Mahdyia shot Hazel an ohhhhhh shit look that was part horror, part comedy.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m honored.” Which really meant fuck me.
Mahdyia snickered silently, covering her mouth as she did.
Seemingly satisfied with Hazel’s response, Mother Stone turned her attention to the rest of the group. “All of you have learning to do. These”—she waved to her group—“will be your secondary mentors. Answering only to Healers Rose and Hart, here are the Sin Eaters, and you will abide by their instruction. They will teach you how to be humble.”
Sin Eaters? Hazel wanted to cringe. Some of the others did but quickly, and smartly, fixed their expressions before anyone noticed.
Sin Eaters were human witches, one of the oldest and oddest clans that existed in literally every country. Nomads, they were drawn to Pagans and magical tribes to offer their services as Sin Eaters. Doing exactly as their name suggested, they consumed the sins of others. Taking in their wrong doings, absorbing the ill will of anyone who asked them to, cleansing curses and dark magic.
Sin Eaters were both revered and cherished because of their service. Their willingness to take on the sins of others, including magic gone wrong, was a sacrifice that cost them hugely. Sin Eaters were deformed, diseased, and ultimately always in a constant state of pain. The cloaks worn by all of them were meant to not only mark their purpose, but also hide their deformities.
Hazel flicked her gaze to the hands of the one holding up the scrubs and noticed that his knuckles were gnarled, his thumb missing. She could only imagine what lay underneath.
“You will abide by their teaching,” Mother Stone repeated sternly. “And add their knowledge to your repertoire of skills.” She nodded to the group. “Now, interns, get changed and get to work. Today marks the first day of your probationary period. Disappoint me and you will be asked to leave the program.”
And with that, smile firmly in place, Mother Stone left the room, her trail of followers on her heels.
“Oh my—” Chanda started.
“That’s what I’d heard,” Hazel said. “I didn’t want to believe it but I’d heard it. She’s a strict leader.”
“Well, this is going to suck.” Bas looked suitably freaked out. “What do you think that meant? What she said to me?”
“That she knew your mother?” Mahdyia shrugged.
“Yeah, like in a bad way?” Bas frowned. “It could be worse… I mean, she clearly doesn’t like Hazel.”
Hazel winced. “Yeah I picked up on that.”
“She wasn’t wrong about your ego—” Bas snickered.
“Enough. We’re all up shit’s creek with this one. Sin Eaters? Really?” Mahdyia said. “I’ve heard they can be brutal.”
“Tough teachers,” Tate added. “But we’ll learn a lot. I’m not scared of the challenge.”
“At least we’re in this together, right?” Chanda said. “I mean, we’re a team.”
“We are a team.” Hazel picked up one of the scrubs, a pungent smell wafting. “And we’re here to learn. We can do this.” She wanted to believe it but the smell of the scrubs was making her slightly nauseous.
“Go team,” Mahdyia cheered. “Barf. Well, what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?”
Hazel could only hope that whatever came next would indeed make her stronger.
“It’ll be an adventure.” Hazel tossed the shirt to Mahdyia. “Let’s uniform up and get started. We have healing to do.”
The End.
Coming Soon
A feral heart might bite but it’s the heart that needs love the most.
Bas Frank is a tough guy—a witch apart from others, and that’s the way he likes it. He learned young that human witches couldn’t be trusted with magic after his mother paid the ultimate price. His hatred has molded into armor over the years, and puts his academic ambitions to the test when White Willow opens its doors to human witches.
When a da
ngerous incident lands Bas in trouble, he finds himself working in the dungeon, which isn’t as bad as it could be, considering his supervisor, Familiar Keeper Mina Knox, is hot-as-hell and takes no crap. He’s so enamored he falls in instant-lust…before the hammer drops and he learns about her human lineage.
But even with a lifetime of prejudice screaming at him that she can’t be trusted, Bas finds it impossible to keep his distance. He doesn’t want or expect to fall in love, but Mina’s compassion chinks his armor, and once a shield is weakened, it’s only a matter of time before it all comes crashing down.
Available November 1, 2018.
Pre-Order Your Copy Today!
Acknowledgments
I want to thank the usual crew of cheerleaders, beta readers, proofreaders, overall awesome friends I have in my life: D.B. Reynolds, Michelle von Enckevort, Dianne Waye, and Tammy Crosby, Anna Sotiropoulos, and Kate Riddell. Thanks also to Holly Atkinson, my forever editor who keeps making sure my books aren’t full of crap. And thank you to my husband who bought me some noise cancelling headphones and my kids who are noisy almost all the time but who also help me come up with magic ideas so I guess I’ll keep them around.
A Conversation with Angela Addams
What inspired you to write The Witches of White Willow?
Well, probably not where you’d expect, actually. A couple of years ago I discovered Grey’s Anatomy and became addicted. Like, seriously, became obsessed with the show. My husband and I binge watched every episode until we were completely caught up and then I went through that weird withdrawal you get when you have to wait forever for a new season so you can reconnect with all your fictional friends. While I was waiting, I started thinking about the things I really loved about the show, the characters, the drama, the love affairs and I thought—well, I love all of that but you know what would make it more interesting? Witches!
The Witches of White Willow: A Witch Hospital Romance Page 23
