Witch Unexpected: The Thirteenth Sign Book 1

by Cassidy, Debbie

  “Fuck me.”

  “I mean, I could, but I don’t swing that way.” She winked and smiled.

  I didn’t return it.

  “Ah, feck, Cora. Will it make a difference?” She studied me. “Is sex more important than saving the world?”

  “Hey, that is not fair.”

  She exhaled and closed her eyes. “I know. It isn’t. Especially when the wolves can bang as many women as they like. In fact, they’re encouraged to in order to keep the primal bloodlines alive.”

  “What about the anchor’s bloodlines?”

  “Anchors are born every century,” Bramble said. “Always have been.”

  My chest was tight with that awful feeling that came with being backed into a corner. The weight of the responsibility pressed on my chest.

  I needed Fee. I needed to speak to her.

  Breathe, Cora. Breathe. “You need to get me a new phone.”

  She nodded. “I’ll sort it.” She leaned her head to the side. “You’re not going to run, are you?”

  At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to do just that, but then what? How long before the seal cracked and our world fell into jeopardy?

  “No. I’m not going to run, but I need time to digest all this. It’s a huge ask.”

  “I know.”

  I needed to take my mind off me for a moment and clutched at the first question that popped into my mind. “What’s the deal with Lauris?”

  “Urgh.” She flopped back onto my bed. “Lauris is a freak.” She turned her head to look at me. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just a fact. The poor fecker shouldn’t even exist. I mean, gargoyles don’t procreate. They just…are. If not for Lauris’s existence, I’d have thought they didn’t even fuck, but rumor has it that Bador stuck it to a human, and eighteen months later, Lauris was born. He’s an anomaly.”

  An anomaly… Like me. “He said he wasn’t a gargoyle.”

  “I don’t blame him for thinking that way. It’s not like they made him feel welcome, the pompous bastards. All holier than thou, and follow the rules, and lick Anna’s ass. Urgh. They treat him like shit. Always have. It’s a fecking shame cos he’s not a bad guy, just… He’s just in between.”

  “He doesn’t have wings, does he?”

  “Nope. He can’t shift to stone either, but his skin is super tough, and he can climb any surface like a spider.”

  “How old is he?”

  She considered this for a moment. “A baby in gargoyle years but around thirty in human years.”

  “He said he was twice as old as you.”

  She smiled at me. “I’m fifteen in human years and thirty in pixie years.”

  Bloody hell, my head hurt. “So, you’re kinda the same age then?”

  “Hell, no.” She sat up quickly. “Lauris is an immature twat who needs to get his shit together.”

  “Seems like the gargoyles aren’t really giving him a chance.”

  “No.” She sighed. “They really aren’t. Thing is, he’s too different. No wings, no ability to shift to stone, and no respect for order.”

  “Yeah. Bador does come across as a stickler for rules.”

  “You have no idea,” Bramble said. “The gargoyles thrive off order. E says it feeds them and makes them stronger—something to do with their heritage. He never said what, but Lauris is different. He seems to thrive off chaos and mischief.” She pushed off the bed. “Look, you need to get some rest. You’ve got a big day tomorrow—orientation with Pen and then meeting Charlotte.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

  Huh? Oh, wait. She didn’t know about Torsten and my plan to go get him, or did she?

  “Wait a second. Did you watch the testing from behind the mirage enchantment?”

  She winked. “I might have.”

  “And you lingered when everyone left?”

  “I sure did.”

  “Then why did you make me tell you everything?”

  Her expression grew serious. “Trust, Cora. I need you to trust me, and I need to be able to trust you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this world you’ve stepped into isn’t always what it seems. You need allies. Friends. Confidantes.”

  And for some reason, she’d chosen to become mine. Or had she? “Charlotte asked you to watch over me.”

  She headed for the balcony. “She did. And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

  Then she darted out into the night and was gone.

  I shucked off my clothes and climbed back into bed. Wren was snoring softly, and I snuggled close to him and closed my eyes.

  I had allies and confidantes. I had friends, but this was a new life, a new responsibility, and tomorrow I’d start sussing out exactly who I could trust.

  Chapter Twelve

  I padded out of the bathroom in my underwear to find a stranger sitting at my dresser. Wren was nowhere to be seen, and my bed, which I’d left artfully unmade, had been smoothed into submission. Several items of clothing were laid out on it.

  The woman raised a hand in greeting and smiled brightly. There was something familiar about that smile and the features surrounding it.

  Anna.

  She looked like a younger version of the elder witch.

  I arched a brow at the woman. “You must be Pen.”

  “That’s me, and you must be Cora. It’s so nice to meet you.” She waved a hand at the bed. “I wasn’t sure if you’d had time to pack. Take your pick. They should all be about your size. We can get you a new wardrobe of clothes soon, but this will keep you going until then.”

  It was a thoughtful gesture. “Thanks.”

  Jeans, long-sleeved tops, a couple of knitted jumpers, socks, leggings. Yeah, this would do.

  She stood and headed for the door. “I’ll let you get dressed, then we’ll go and get some breakfast.”

  “Did you see my friend, Wren?”

  “The cutie left with Dottie a few minutes ago. I’m sure we’ll catch them up in the dining hall.”

  She closed the door softly behind her, and I studied the items on the bed. The leggings were thick material, perfect for the November chill, paired with an undershirt, the long-knitted sweater, and my boots… Yeah, this worked.

  I dressed, ran a brush through my hair, and headed for the lounge. As I closed the door behind me, I noted strange runes etched into the surface. I’d done some studying on runes, and from what I could see, these were protective wards to keep something out.

  “Ah, you noticed those,” Pen said from behind me.

  “Yeah. What are we keeping out?”

  “Nosey, dead, elder council members.” She smiled. “I figured you’d want some privacy, and those old biddies have had the run of this wing for way too long to respect that. I had a novice place them there for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “The east wing may not be covered by the main wards that protect the rest of the mansion, but we’ve made sure to place runic wards on all the windows and exterior walls.”

  “Why do the main wards not cover this wing?”

  She shrugged. “No one knows for sure. They always malfunction, which is why we’ve had to reinforce in other ways. We have separate ground wards too, but only The Elites and the elder council have access to the full map of those wards. They’ve been in place forever.”

  I smiled at her. “I get it. I’m safe here.”

  She smiled warmly. “Yes, you are.” Her gaze tracked over me. “The clothes fit well.”

  She was about the same height and build as me. “Yours?”

  She shrugged. “I’m a shopaholic. Buy way too much. Haven’t gotten around to wearing those items yet. They still had tags on, honest.”

  “It’s fine. Hand-me-downs would be fine too.” I fingered the jumper, a deep blue that sat well against my skin and made my hair look even more golden than it was. “Although you might regret letting me have this one. It’s super comfy.”

  S
he chuckled. “I know, I have it in egg-shell blue and dusky rose.”

  I guess this darker blue would make her already pale complexion even paler. Good choice to give it away and keep the others.

  “Come on,” she said. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

  I followed her out of my quarters and through the east wing, where several apparitions were busy dusting the surfaces. Looked like Anna was making good on her promise to have the wing cleaned and aired.

  There was no sight of Meredith and her merry band of dead elder witches, though.

  “They’re probably sulking,” Pen said.

  “Huh?”

  “The ancient elders.” She flicked a glance over her shoulder. “That is what you were wondering, right?”

  “Don’t tell me, you’re psychic?”

  “Hardly.” She scoffed. “Just intuitive. I mean, after your mini showdown with them yesterday, of course you’d be wondering where they were.”

  “It was hardly a showdown.”

  “Really?” Her smile dimpled. “Not the way Grandmother tells it. But then she’s always had a flair for the dramatic.”

  We took the steps down to the main corridor, where there was now an actual view through the windows. Someone had done an epic job of removing the grime, and buttery-yellow sunlight streamed across the gray flagstones and highlighted dancing motes of dust. Pen hurried to the double doors exiting out of the wing, but I lingered a moment to look out at the grounds beyond. Woodland surrounded the mansion, stretching as far as the eye could see. A ledge jutted out to my left, and a figure was perched on it. Wait… Not a figure. A stone monster, hunched and forbidding.

  “You found Bador’s perch,” Pen said from beside me.

  “Bador?”

  “Yes, one of the guardians of Grimswood. They turn to stone during the day, you know.”

  “I’m not so hot on my gargoyle mythology.”

  “Oh, the stuff you read in books won’t tell you shit about gargoyles. Humans have some lame version in their fiction, and not even outliers know much about them.” She lightly touched the window with her fingertips. “But we know the truth about these magnificent beings.”

  Okay, now I was intrigued. “Which is?”

  She blinked sharply as if coming out of a trance. “Goodness. Look at the time. We need to get you fed and to Charlotte.” She turned away and clipped across the floor to the doors. “Come along.”

  She looked young, not much older than me, but she acted older.

  “Hey, Pen, how old are you?”

  She snorted. “Not shy about asking questions, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Forty-five,” she said.

  No fucking way. “You’re joking.”

  She grinned and yanked open the door, ushering me through into the significantly more colorful corridor beyond.

  “Grimswood witches age well, or don’t age at all depending on how powerful they are.”

  Which had me wondering how old Anna was. She had to be pretty powerful to be an elder witch…

  Pen sighed. “Anna’s over a hundred years old.”

  “Wow. Okay, and you? How powerful are you?”

  Her smile was wry. “On a scale of 1–10, I’m a zero. I’m a dud.” She shrugged. “It used to bother me when I was younger, but I soon realized it was a blessing. I mean, no patrols, no duties, no obligation to protect anyone or anything. I stay because I choose to, but I’m free to leave whenever I wish.”

  “You make being a witch sound like a prison sentence.”

  She gave me a sympathetic look. “Oh, honey, being a witch is fine. Being a Grimswood witch is a life sentence.”

  Oh crap. “I think I feel the walls closing in.”

  She chuckled. “You’re fine. You’re the anchor. The anchor gets the highlife, sweetie. You get to do what you want. Yeah, you might have to put up with bodyguards and…” She shot me a sideways look. “You know about the no kids policy, right?”

  “Yeah. No kids and no live dick.”

  She made a choking sound. “Oh goodness, you really don’t hold back.”

  “I believe in getting to the point.”

  We turned down a corridor that looked familiar, but the paintings on the wall weren’t something I recalled. Still, I was pretty sure I’d come this way with Anna last night. How had I missed these portraits—all of different women surrounded by wolves.

  I stepped closer to the nearest one of a woman with reddish-blonde hair and a roguish smirk on her face. Three huge black wolves sat by her chair. One had its head on her lap, another lay across her boots, and the final one sat on its haunches, alert and watchful at her side. The plaque beneath had a single name etched into it. Evelyn Rose.

  “Ah, she was the first anchor,” Pen said. “Held the position for over a hundred and twenty years, or so they say. The most powerful anchor of them all. Heck, she may have held it longer, if not for the fire.”

  “The fire?”

  “Yes, in the east wing. I think there was a ball or some event, and then the fire happened. Evelyn and her mates tried to get everyone out. They died saving lives. The elder council perished in that fire.”

  “Meredith and co?”

  “Yes.” Pen’s expression was somber. “We were lucky to find a new anchor. Lucky we had powerful witches to take over as the new council.”

  “So, this is the first time the east wing’s been used since then?”

  “Pretty much.” Pen frowned. “Although I don’t see why Grandmother didn’t put you in the south wing with us. There are a few spare rooms. I’ll ask her. Unless you prefer the solitude of the east wing, that is?”

  “I don’t mind. Whatever works.”

  “Okay, leave that with me.”

  We left the portraits behind to continue down the corridor and took a left onto a landing, which ended in ornate balustrades and a flight of fancy steps going down.

  The smell of bacon hit me, and my stomach rumbled.

  “Almost there,” Pen said with a grin. “It’ll be worth it, trust me. Breakfast at Grimswood is legendary.”

  The smell intensified as we hit the hardwood at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Welcome to the south wing,” Pen said. “This is where the rest of us regular witches hang out.”

  There was a twinkle in her eye as she led me through an arch and into a wide corridor with floor to ceiling windows. A set of partially open doors sat at the other end, and the sound of laughter and clink of cutlery drifted out from within.

  “They’re looking forward to meeting you, and they’ll probably have a ton of questions, but don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

  “No need,” Bramble said from beside me.

  I jumped in surprise. Where the fuck had she come from?

  She flashed me a grin. “I got you, boo.” She slung an arm over my shoulders.

  Pen sighed and rolled her eyes. “You know the protocol, Bramble. You’re more than welcome to join us for breakfast, but orientation is my thing.”

  “Of course. Wouldn’t want to rain on your parade.”

  Bramble dropped me a wink and pushed open the doors all the way. “Welcome to sunny side up heaven.”

  All the aromas hit me in one go, and my stomach did a desperate lurch followed by a happy dance.

  The room was huge, filled with round tables, many of which were occupied by women ranging from teenage to middle-aged. Several pairs of eyes trained on me as Pen led me into the room at a brisk clip, a smile plastered on her face.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was tense.

  The general conversation dropped to a low buzz of whispers as we made our way through the dining room. I scanned the room looking for Wren and caught the eye of a redhead with a pout to die for. She raised a hand and gave me a finger wave. The woman next to her elbowed her in the ribs but then smiled at me when she caught me watching her.

  They had to be around the same age as me, but we weren’t headed to that table. No, Pe
n made a beeline for the long table at the top of the room where four women watched us approach with guarded expressions.

  “Sloane, hi,” Pen said. “I thought you might want to meet our new anchor.”

  The woman had cropped silver hair and eyes so blue they made my heart ache. Her face was angular and chiseled, with high cheekbones. She fixed her attention on me and sat back in her seat.

  “They say you survived the slau.” Her voice was husky and low. “That true?”

  “If you mean managed not to die until help arrived, then yeah, I survived it.”

  The corner of her mouth turned up. “Yeah. Elijah got to you, right?”

  “And Bramble kicked ass.”

  Sloane’s gaze flicked to Bramble. “You did, huh?”

  I glanced at Bramble to find her staring at Sloane with a starstruck look on her face.

  Sloane ducked her head and chuckled softly. “Damn, you really are a sweetheart.”

  Bramble cleared her throat. “Who you calling a sweetheart, eh? I ain’t no fluffy thing.”

  Sloane’s brows shot up. “Really?”

  Bramble raised her chin. “So, you gonna make room for us at the big girls’ table or not?”

  Sloane locked gazes with me for a long beat, then jerked her chin at the woman sitting next to her. Chairs were pulled out, and Pen ushered me into a seat opposite Sloane.

  An empty plate appeared in front of me, set there by spectral hands.

  “Help yourself to whatever you want,” Sloane said. “It’s quite a trek to the cabin. You’ll need your energy.”

  “The cabin?”

  “It’s where Charlotte lives with her mates,” Pen said, spooning egg onto her plate. “We’ll head there after breakfast. So, eat up.” She handed me the ladle for the eggs.

  Bramble shoved a wad of bacon into her mouth and chewed. “Cora can jump there, can’t you, Cor?” She nudged me.

  “I can.” No need to go into details as to why I wouldn’t, though.

  Sloane’s full lips lifted in a smirk. “But you won’t.” Her gaze dropped to the amulet around my neck. “I heard about your pest problem.”

  “Well then, you know the score.” I gave her a tight smile and began piling up my plate.

  I was hungry, and nothing came between me and my food, not even new acquaintances and awkward conversation.