Witch Way: The New Ashton Chronicles

by F. R. Southerland

  Casey fished out a photograph from her jacket pocket. The edges had faded on the ten-year-old picture, but there he was—Blond-haired, blue-eyed, smiling. She held the photograph out to the woman. “Have you seen this man? The picture’s kinda old, and I dunno when he might’ve been here.”

  The clerk leaned in to peer at it. Casey waited, breath held again. When the woman’s eyes widened, hope rekindled.

  “Kind of looks like Brad Pitt, don’t he? No, no. Haven’t seen anyone like him around here.”

  Hope melted into disappointment. “Oh. Thanks anyway.”

  Concern washed over the woman’s face. “Who is he? Your father?”

  “Nah. Just a guy I know. Owes me money.” The lie came smoothly from her, accompanied by a small smile and a forced laugh. She was ever mindful of her cover story. She couldn’t risk a slip-up. “Thanks again.”

  She found her room on the first floor, which was good and bad. She liked to be on the first floor, to make a quick getaway if she needed it. She also hated it because it meant easier access for break-ins.

  Casey unlocked the door and did a quick sweep of the room. It looked just like any other motel. Cleaner than most and the few furnishings were boring and drab, but there was a bed, a TV, and a table with two chairs. Downright comfortable.

  She checked the corners, behind the door, and the bathroom. Satisfied nothing lurked, Casey set to work. Her backpack landed on the table with a loud thunk. She took off her shoes, removing the sheathed knife from her ankle. She removed her belt with its hidden blade. She took her clothes from the backpack first, followed by her father’s journal, and then her pistol. The ammunition she kept wrapped in one of her sweatshirts. Casey put them all aside and delved deeper. There were vials of holy water and a five-pound bag of rock salt that had weighed her down for so long.

  She’d have to remember to pack the bag better next time. Maybe keep the weapons near the top, if there were demons in town—and especially if she meant to investigate this Otherside.

  Looking at her belongings spread out on the table, Casey realized she led a spartan life. She only had what she needed, what was required, and very little more. It’s what her dad taught her. Keep it small, keep it close, and always be ready to run at a moment’s notice.

  Thoughts of her father only made her heart heavy. She tore open the bag of salt and began her precautions. Salt to keep out evil and bad spirits. A line of it across any entrance or window, and a circle of it around the bed. That would protect her—not from all demons, but from plenty enough. She kept a gun beneath her pillow for everything else, and a knife on the nightstand, just in case. By the time Casey showered, tended her wounds, and got to bed, she was as prepared as she ever would be.

  She fell asleep with demons and her father in her thoughts.

  Andy

  The Next Morning

  The alarm blared, angry and loud. Fuck, she’d just fallen asleep. Andy moaned and gave a vague wave of her hand. There came a crash when the clock hit the wall and the alarm stopped.

  She drifted back to sleep.

  Andy woke next to a fist pounding on her front door. She pulled the blanket over her head. “No,” she groaned. “Let me sleep.” She needed it. She’d worried about Casey and worried about her vision and worried whether she’d get another one if she fell asleep. Dream visions were the worst.

  But she hadn’t and she wanted to take advantage of that.

  The knocking came louder. “Andy, are you still in bed?”

  Andy rolled over and tightened her eyes. Maybe if she ignored her, she’d go away. She heard the front door open. Shit. She’d forgotten she’d given Vinnie a key.

  So much for that.

  A minute later, her sister was at the bedroom door, knocking more tentatively. “Andy?”

  “Go. Away.”

  The bedroom door opened with a soft creak. Vinnie’s weight pressed onto the edge of the bed. “Rough night?”

  Andy only groaned louder.

  “It’s a sad truth, but the morning has come. You have a job and that job requires you to be out of bed.”

  “But it’s Saturday.” Her voice held more than a hint of a whine.

  “Shop’s open on Saturdays.”

  “Who decided that?”

  “Uh, you and mom? When you decided to open a business?”

  There was a long pause. “You’re right, and I hate you.”

  “I hate you too,” Vinnie answered, sweetly. She patted Andy’s shoulder and got out of bed. “I’ll get the coffee started. You hop in the shower.”

  Andy replied with a noncommittal grunt.

  Half an hour later, she was showered and dressed and the scent of coffee filled her apartment. A soft meow greeted her from Vivi, her orange tabby. The young cat wound her way around Andy’s ankles in hello. Andy smiled and bent to give her a brief scratch behind the ears.

  “Morning, darling. I’ll get you something to eat.”

  “I got her food already,” Vinnie called from the kitchen. “Doom too, though he’s being a jerk about it.” She cast an annoyed glance toward the bookshelf, where the cranky black cat sat. He glared at her with his yellow eyes.

  “Well, you know Doom. He’s only happy when he makes everyone else miserable. What about Mikey?”

  “Yep. Turtle Boy’s fed too. Everyone’s fed but you.”

  Andy paused at the box turtle’s habitat, peering at him through the glass. He ignored her and happily munched away on a strawberry. She could always count on Vinnie to do all the responsible things. If only she could’ve shoved that responsibility aside to let Andy have a few more hours of sleep.

  Oh well.

  “I’m gonna eat. Don’t worry.” She gratefully snatched up the large mug of coffee waiting for her on the table.

  Vinnie had pulled her red hair into a messy bun, but had dressed smartly in beige slacks and a paisley shirt. “Did the shower help?” Vinnie asked when she sat at the table. One of Sinfully Sweet Bakery‘s signature blue and white striped boxes sat open before her. A few donuts were already missing.

  “Yeah. Kind of.” The shower had done wonders to wake her up, but Andy still felt sluggish and gross. The sight of donuts perked her up though. “You sprung for donuts?”

  Vinnie shrugged and helped herself to another. “Figured you might want breakfast. Hurry up and eat.”

  Andy rolled her eyes and picked out a donut. She ate standing and sprinkles clattered onto the floor and table.

  Vinnie cleared the sprinkles away from the table into a napkin and dumped them back into the box, ignoring the rest of her sister’s mess. “Are you okay? I mean, really?”

  “I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep so well.”

  Vinnie didn’t look convinced. “Because of the vision.” She paused, looking sheepishly down at her breakfast. “I talked to Mom already.”

  “And she told you everything?” There were very few secrets among the Foster women, it seemed.

  “I mean, not everything. We talked. For a couple of minutes. She was heading out to the shop.” She passed Andy the French vanilla creamer.

  Andy dumped a generous amount into her cup, added sugar, and stirred it. She let go of the spoon and let it stir on its own while she ate. A couple of minutes talking with their mother was enough to cover plenty of ground. Andy wasn’t sure she wanted to know the details but she asked anyway. “What did she tell you?”

  “That you had a vision last night. About a girl in danger? Oh, and she bitched about a dent in her car.”

  That fucking dent. Andy cringed. “Yeah. I sort of hit a demon last night while trying to help that girl.”

  “Oh. Oh wow. The same demon you had to deal with on that call last night?”

  “Did Mom tell you about that too?”

  “No. Neoma.”

  Andy sighed and took a sip from her mug. “No, not the same kind as that, but probably similar origins. I don’t know.” She frowned. “How pissed is she about the car?”

  “On a
scale of one to ten? Probably a six.”

  “Six. That’s not too bad. I’ll call Slater Auto about it. Maybe I can get that six down to a zero.”

  “Maybe.” Vinnie looked down at herself and brushed powdered sugar from her blouse. “She’s mostly worried, I think.” She returned her blue eyes to Andy, concerned. “What happened with the vision?”

  “Mom didn’t say?”

  “I only saw her for a few minutes. No time for details. What was it about?”

  “Oh, you know. Danger.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Like, would it kill the Powers That Be or the Gods or whoever to bring something nice? A vision of me winning the lottery maybe?”

  “You know that’s not how it works.”

  “Yeah. I know. You’re lucky you don’t get them.” Her sister had always envied that power, she knew, but she wouldn’t wish it on her.

  “Uh, yeah. Lucky isn’t the word I’d use,” Vinnie said, flatly.

  Andy, as usual, ignored her sister’s moodswing.. “There are some days I’d give anything to not have them—as helpful to other people as they might be.”

  Vinnie pushed away the last bites of her donut and didn’t respond.

  “There was this darkness,” Andy went on. “A living, breathing kind of darkness. Like a shadow. And it came out of New Ashton. The girl stood outside the city limits. The darkness came at her and devoured her.” Andy shook her head. “I told Mom about it and she let me take the car out there. I followed my gut. Sure enough, there she was.”

  “And the darkness?”

  “Didn’t see anything like it but she was being chased by a demon. The girl didn’t want to chat. She’s about your age, maybe younger. Human, not an Other.”

  “What about the demon?”

  “Ran off after I hit it. Back into the woods. Some dog-beast thing—not a werewolf though. Not the gremlin-looking thing I banished last night. Hopefully, Mom’s called Mason or Wren about it and they took care of it. Did she tell you about that?”

  “Again, no. Neoma mentioned it. Said you missed out on a date because of it.”

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  “Well, whatever. You missed out. Bummer. No love for the Foster women. I haven’t met any girls, much less girls I want to date for a long time.” Vinnie bit down on her lip and looked away for a second. “So the darkness was the demon and you stopped it. Another crisis averted.” Vinnie took a drink from her mug, eyeing Andy over the rim. “That’s it, right?”

  Andy curled her fingers around her mug, savoring the warmth from it. And that was why she’d been up until the wee hours of the morning, puzzling over it. Yes, she’d gotten there in time and stopped the demon from hurting her but her gut only tightened whenever she thought of Casey. There was more to it than that.

  “No. I mean, it’s not over,” she said, frowning. “I can’t help but feel like this is only the start.” She knew she had to do something. All night she debated it and by the time she’d started to drift off, she had a half-formed plan. Now that she was completely awake, it started to come back and take shape. “We have work to do.”

  Vinnie’s eyes widened. “We?”

  “Come on.” Andy grabbed the bakery box and stood. “We have a stop to make before we head into the shop.”

  “What? Stop where?”

  Andy flashed a smile and passed the donut box to Vinnie. Her sister took it, a confused expression on her face.

  “Isn’t it obvious? You’re going to help me with this vision.”

  “Oh no.”

  Andy’s smile turned into a grin. “Oh yes.”

  Casey

  Well, shit.

  She recognized the car and the redhead seated in the driver’s seat. Fear seized her. Why had Andy come back? Had she drawn too much suspicion? And who was that with her?

  Oh, she shouldn’t have slept in. She knew catching a few extra Z’s would bite her in the ass. She might as well bend over now.

  When Andy went inside the office, Casey got a good look at the passenger. There was certainly a resemblance to Andy. With her lighter red hair, a heart-shaped face, and fuller cheeks, the young woman had to be related to her.

  Casey edged back from the window.

  A couple of minutes later, Andy emerged from the office and got back in the car. Instead of driving away, she stayed there. The women talked to one another a few minutes before they both got out and started for her room.

  Fuck.

  Casey shifted back and forth, assessing her options. She couldn’t run. The door was the only exit. There’d be no way her body could fit through the bathroom’s teeny window, so she nixed that option. She had to do something.

  Her clothes and belongings lay scattered all around the room, but the gun remained hidden where she’d left it. She pulled it from beneath the pillow and ducked into the bathroom. She closed the door quietly and flipped the lock before she crouched down.

  Her heart thumped too fast, her breath uneven and loud. Fuck, get yourself under control and listen!

  “It’s not right,” the soft, unfamiliar voice said. The words were faint, but Casey could just make them out. “Using a mind-control sigil to get the clerk to give up a room number? That’s almost crossing the line.”

  “I’ve crossed the line time and time again.” Andy sighed heavily. “But I know. I’ll make amends for it later, okay? Just let me do the talking.” The knock at the door came sharply. “Hello? Casey? It’s Andy.” She spoke up so her voice carried through the door. “I brought donuts, in case you were hungry. Maybe we can talk over breakfast?”

  Oh, food. Hunger gnawed at her but she resisted the temptation. Casey had learned to take meals where she could get them, but she wouldn’t risk it. She pressed her lips together and stayed silent.

  “Casey?”

  With no answer, they’d have to leave and move on. Casey would be long gone from this motel before they came back. There had to be other places in the city she could crash—places where she wouldn’t be pursued or questioned.

  And then she heard the unmistakable click of the chain lock as it came undone. From the inside.

  Casey always kept her doors locked, especially in a new place. She checked her locks and double-checked, and sometimes triple-checked them. There was no way someone could open that lock from the inside, not without some sort of magic or power.

  Demons.

  The door creaked open then closed with a small click.

  “Vinnie, look,” Andy said. “There’s salt. There’s a damn circle of salt. And a line of it by the window. Look!”

  “I see it.”

  Casey swallowed the lump in her throat. Her fingers flexed on the gun’s grip, adjusting the weight of the pistol. If they came through that door, she might have to use it.

  “I knew it! I knew there was something about her.” Andy sounded triumphant. “It’s a lot of salt. Around the bed, too. She’s trying to keep something out.”

  “So? That doesn’t mean a lot. There are plenty of people around here who use precautions against spirits and other things. That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “But she’s new in town, Vin. Maybe she’s running from something.”

  “Maybe she’s a hunter.”

  Casey’s blood pulsed harder.

  “But, I mean… This Casey girl,” Vinnie went on, “she might not be like those hunters. She could be one of the good ones. You know, the ones who just go after the Others causing trouble? You said she knew demons.”

  “Yeah, I did. It makes sense. I didn’t think of it before but a demon was chasing her. She had blood on her. What if she’s here to hunt something? Or someone? I mean, come on. We do a pretty good job keeping the peace between Others and humans, but throw an unknown hunter into the mix?”

  “And we’d get chaos. I know… but say she is a hunter and she’s after someone here—are you still going to help her?”

  “I’m going with my gut on this one. You know I have to. I wouldn’t be a good witch if I didn’t
. Do you expect me to shut her out? Ignore the vision?”

  “Maybe the darkness in your vision was her? Like, doing bad stuff.”

  “It’s not all black and white, you know. Good or bad. There are all these shades between. Fuck! What if you’re right?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just—I’m trying to figure this out too.” Vinnie’s voice came louder as she neared the bathroom door.

  Casey edged back, balancing on her heels. Visions? Witches? Fuck! They were witches. She bit down hard on her lip and tasted blood.

  “Mom always says we have to look at all possibilities.” Vinnie’s voice softened.

  Footsteps moved back and forth across the floor. “I know what my gut says. She isn’t like that. She’s here to find something, not here to hurt something. She’s searching, not hunting. I know it. My gut knows it.”

  Someone shuffled closer to the door. Casey’s breath hitched.

  Andy continued. “If certain Others in this city hear there’s a new hunter in town, they might come after her. They’ll hurt her. Maybe she’s the darkness I saw. I mean, maybe Casey is supposed to get hurt and I have to stop it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I don’t know, but we have to find her before something happens. Either way.”

  “Yeah, okay.” The doorknob jiggled. “It’s locked. Can you—?”

  The lock turned with a loud, visible jerk. Shit. Shit!

  “Yeah,” Andy said. “I got it. Locked from the inside. That means—”

  Her legs burned when she moved to action. As the door widened, she shoved all her weight into it. She heard a startled cry as she emerged and saw a pair of big blue eyes widen in surprise. Vinnie. The redhead stumbled back but didn’t fall, not until Casey smacked her face with her pistol-hand and pushed her out of the way.

  “Hey!” Andy shouted.

  Casey brought up the gun. She didn’t intend to use it—she meant it as a warning—but she froze. She couldn’t move. She stood poised, weapon in hand, but she couldn’t lift it any higher. Her feet remained planted on the floor but she couldn’t take a single step. Some kind of force had her locked in place.