by Shay Cabe
“I understand. We’ll begin their training at—”
“They get another day off, Don. No exceptions,” Maggie interrupts.
“Er, uh the day after tomorrow, four a.m. sharp. I expect to see you there too.”
“I thought you said you have nothing left to teach me?”
“I don’t but they do. You need to learn how to be a witch-born too.”
“Okay.” He stares at me expectantly and when I don’t say or do anything else he turns and walks off into the darkness. I turn to Maggie. “Is that an old man pout?”
She busts out laughing and then says, “Yes, I do believe it is.”
“I wonder if he’ll throw things like you do.”
“Evanora!”
“What? You do!”
Eventually, I manage to get the guys to leave me alone long enough to take a nice hot bath and when I’m completely sure I’m alone; I exhale and let the wall I’ve been holding up for hours collapse.
Of course I want to try to save Ezra, but there are so many things in the way of that and I can’t… no, won’t risk the guys lives on a maybe. I don’t care who’s imprisoned. I wasn’t lying when I told Don the guy is a stranger to me and finding out he’s my bio dad doesn’t make me automatically love him.
I cared about Darren, thought he was my freaking dad my entire life and look where that got me. He turned out to be a psychopath who eats people. I sigh and sink lower into the hot water. It's hard to accept the knowledge that I tricked myself into thinking he loved me. That he loved mom. I told myself that him being distant and selfish were personality quirks and that he loved me in his own way. I had a freaking psychiatrist tell me that.
The women wanting him makes sense to me now. Witch-born are always appealing to others, especially humans. Something about them draws their victims in like a flower does a bee. I wonder what the slut-therapist would think if she found out she was banging a cannibal dude who turns into a bear?
I snort and get water up my nose. Laughing while coughing is not as easy as you’d think. I end up choking and resting my head against the rim of the tub.
I’m not sure I can do any of this. My confidence has taken a beating and every inch of my body feels like it has too. For one brief second I consider leaving. I cut it off with a thought. That’s stupid.
“Cookie, I have no idea how I’m going to do this shit, I don’t want to fail everyone.”
“The only thing you fail at Nora are checkers.” Hez says. I sit up so fast water sloshes all over the floor. All four of the guys are standing in the doorway, looking at me… while I’m naked.
“Dude you only won because she fell asleep and you cheated,” Barrett calls Hez out.
The shock wears off and I stand up; the water sluicing down my body as I hold both hands up. All four of them are standing there with their mouths gaped open.
“You’re acting like you’ve never seen boobs before, guys.” No response to my joke. Fine. Their clothes rip off them, falling into pieces at their feet. I avoid the temptation to look and push them out the door, through the bedroom out into the hallway. Pushing a little harder I shut and lock all their bedroom doors and only open the front door.
They can run around naked for a little while.
“Nora!” All four of them yell as they slide down the stairs.
“Oh my god, where are your clothes? What did you do, boys?” Maggie yells. “Did you go peek at her like perverts? I’m going to kick your asses!” I smile and grab a towel.
This is what it feels like to be Alive and Hexing.
Chapter Twenty-One
Three Months Later…
Tonight marks our first ‘mission’ as a team. Even though we’re still in training for it, Don felt we were ready to handle this situation. Honestly, I’d have probably come solo if he’d have said no.
Finding her was incredibly easy, all things considered. I guess I expected her to have super powerful protection spells and wards out the ass. Unfortunately for her, she’s too arrogant to think anyone would come into her home at four in the morning and put a knife to her throat. There was only a handful of guards and lazy wards that a toddler could break through.
I look down at the knife blade, shining in the moonlight that’s leaking through the large picture windows. The metal looks so dark against the pale skin of her throat. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is open in sleep. There’s a spot of drool drying in the corner of her mouth, and evidence that some has leaked down her chin. Somehow, she’s still wearing makeup, I’m guessing that she has at least two makeup charms on her at all times.
Pity none of them can protect her from anything other than getting a date.
I look around her rather glamorous bedroom. I’ve never seen quite so much silk in a room before. The curtains, rugs, and the sheets. The drapes around the four-poster canopy bed. They look pink in the dark so I can imagine how bright they are in the full light. They also allow someone to walk more silently than normal too.
She probably didn’t think of something like that either.
I lean closer and rest my left hand beside her head and hover my face a scant inch from hers.
“Martha, it’s time to wake up,” I whisper in a sing-song voice. Her eyes fly open and instantly bulge out, filled with fear.
“Tsk tsk, I wouldn’t move much, the blade is pretty sharp and I bet getting blood out of silk is a bitch.” Her throat convulses and sweat pops out on her forehead.
“What do you want?” she croaks out.
“You will tell me everything about Darren, the council and my mom’s death and or we’re going to take a nice long drive.” One she wouldn’t be coming back from.
The window creaks open but I don’t move, I know who it is. Oz climbs silently into the window, light on his feet like the cat he is.
“If I tell you anything they’ll kill me,” she protests.
“It’s not them you have to worry about, Martha.” I put a minuscule amount of pressure on the blade and it breaks the first few layers of the soft, flabby skin under her chin. She hisses in pain and tears begin to leak from her eyes.
“You don’t understand… Darren will be sent to—eat me!”
“Aww, silly old bat, why do you think you’ll remain a witch long enough to worry about Darren?”
“How can you get the answers you seek if you keep threatening me?” she argues. Stalling for time in hopes that her few guards will come running to save her. Going by the smell of blood coming off Oz, that’s not going to happen.
It’s then that she sees the truth in my eyes. There’s no hope for her, she’s not got a single bargaining chip. “Darren’s location and the council members' names who were involved in my mom’s death,” I repeat.
“Why should I tell you anything if you’re going to kill me either way?” Ah, there’s some anger in her face now. My left hand moves too fast for her to see and I bury the small throwing knife in her right shoulder. She screams and I cover her mouth with my gloved hand.
When she stops screaming, I remove my hand.
“I’m not telling you anything!” she whisper-yells.
“We found her safe. It’s got a biometric lock, we need her eyeball and right thumb,” Oz says, breaking his silence.
“I’m not opening it, you’ll just have to kill me.”
“We don’t need you intact, just your eye and thumb. Oz… hold her down.”
She starts talking before I even touch her with the blade. Everything and then some. Darren is in Las Vegas, spending his reward money he got for ‘scaring’ me. And by the time she’s done giving me names, that I record with my phone, she’s listed every council member that holds a seat and some that are hidden.
As a bonus, she tells me where my bio dad is even without me asking. When she keeps blubbering, I keep recording. When her tale is done, I’m a hair's breadth away from slitting her throat and leaving her to rot in her silk palace.
My misguided mom only wanted equal rights for shifters.
That’s what she was fighting for. No power games, no magical sabotage. She picked her cause and was standing up for it. They killed her for something stupid.
Martha Levings comes from an old line of witches, almost as old as mine. Her family prides themselves on their power. They hate humans and shifters alike and feel like the mundane are beneath them. I brought the perfect punishment for Martha.
I pull my knife out of her shoulder, after giving it a little twist, and wipe it on her pillow. Tucking it and the one at her throat back into their hidden sheaths, I pull out a small potion bottle that I had tucked in my pocket. This spell is old, and I found it a long time ago. It’s an illegal spell but a rather simple one. The main ingredient is the tears of a child wronged by a witch.
I grab her face and force her mouth open and dump the potion down her gaping mouth. She gags and coughs trying to fight it but I squeeze her nose until she swallows it all. It takes her a few seconds to realize what I gave her. Any witch can feel their power draining and I’ve heard that losing it permanently feels a lot like losing part of your soul.
I’m not sure that Martha has any soul left but I know that she realizes her magic is disappearing.
“Oh no, god no. Don’t take my magic. They’ll kick me out of the coven! Penniless!” Out of all the things she should mourn its money and power.
“At least you’re not dead, right?” I snark and step back away from her.
“Oz, grab her, we’re still getting in that safe.” Oz grabs her by the arms and drags her to her feet. She doesn’t protest, she’s mewling like an old cat and bemoaning her missing magic.
Martha will spend the rest of her life suffering and frankly, she deserves it.
As we empty her safe she didn’t want to open—took some persuasion—we find files on my mom, me and a bunch of other people. These files I’ll give to Maggie because I suspect that the identities of the group she spoke on that fights against the council are all in these folders. Which means they’re in danger. Maggie can deal with that; I tried to join their group and was refused because I was too young. Yet, I’m the one getting the information none of them could get.
Adults are so weird sometimes.
“What do we do with her now?” Phoenix asks, striding into the room wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. Considering the seriousness of the situation I try not to look, but ya know.
A fitting idea strikes me. “Go grab some cling wrap and a chair.”
We leave her securely wrapped to the chair that sits at the head of her twenty foot long dining room table. I sprinkled pink glitter all over her and shaved her head. On her forehead, in vivid orange marker I write, “Mundane Twat”.
Martha will be shunned from her family, her coven and will immediately lose her council seat. She’ll tell them I’m coming and that’s okay. Because I am and I won’t stop until I get all of them. Some will die and some will join Martha on her senior’s cruise because that’s as magical as her life will be after today.
I smile as we walk back to the car parked a few blocks away.
Hez and Barrett are waiting patiently beside it. I didn’t want to take everyone in and be left without backup. The guys are still in training.
There’s a list now and I can eliminate one name at a time. They’ll fight, they’ll hide and they’ll beg, but the truth is—I’m every inch my namesake.
“I’ll get you my pretty and your little bear too,” I whisper.
To be continued in book two, A Hex of a Chance
Acknowledgments
I want to send out a personal thanks to all the folks who helped me get through such an awful time in my life and gave me the energy to finish this book. You’re a godsend and I’ll be forever grateful.
Lorie, thank you — Love your face.
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