To Love a Witch

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I’m not telling you anything. You know how this goes. If I tell you what will happen, it won’t actually happen — and then where will you be? I’ll tell you. You’ll be a sad sack and nobody will want to be around you.”

  “But ... at least tell me one thing.”

  Aunt Tillie paused by the door. “He’ll change your entire world and you’ll be better for knowing him.”

  “Oh, come on! I need more than that.”

  “That’s all I have to give. Now, let’s go downstairs so I can tell your mothers how Clove wants to wait for a man to take care of her. That should serve as my entertainment for the evening.”

  Clove scowled. “You’re a horrible old woman.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  One

  Present Day

  “You’re not trying!”

  Aunt Tillie was edgy, which meant the world was teetering on the head of a pin as she stood in the center of the small clearing, next to the old cabins I used to bunk in during summers camping with my cousins. She drew herself up, armoring herself in her formidable look.

  The girl she was trying to help ignored my puffed-up great-aunt.

  “I don’t even understand why I’m here,” Dani Harris complained, sending a pleading look in my direction. For some reason — and I still couldn’t wrap my head around why — she’d decided I was the alpha witch in our little group. She would listen only to me, even though the two older witches teaching most of the lessons were ten times stronger. “Why do I have to listen to them?”

  I tugged on my limited patience and searched for a way to explain that she would not only understand, but embrace. Her world wasn’t exactly normal these days. In fact, that was the last word I would use to describe it. She’d been removed from her home, essentially cut off from her mother and brother, and she had someone watching her twenty-four hours a day. It was not a normal scenario for a teenager ... and yet here we were.

  “Because they have a lot to teach,” I replied without hesitation, flashing a smile I didn’t feel. “You need discipline.”

  “Why?” Dani had her role as petulant teenager down pat. If they handed out awards, she would definitely take home a shiny ribbon or gold trophy. She was abrasive, whiny, and constantly pushing back on authority. In a weird way, she reminded me of my cousin Thistle when she was that age. Of course, Thistle wasn’t responsible for the murder of her father and didn’t have plans to terrorize half the town with magically controlled birds.

  “Because if you don’t control yourself you’ll be lost,” I replied, matter-of-fact. We’d been over this at least ten times, but Dani continued to push back. I was getting tired of her attitude. “Being a witch is about more than having magic at your disposal.”

  Dani didn’t look convinced. “But ... I’m more powerful than them.” She said it with enough earnest energy that I realized she believed it.

  “You’re not.” I was firm. “They’re both older than you ... and wiser ... and they can beat the crap out of you if it comes to a magic fight.”

  Rather than agreeing, Dani shook her head. “They can’t. I’m way stronger. I killed people.”

  The way she said it made me realize she didn’t grasp what she’d done. I’d been wrestling with that notion for almost two weeks. Not only did she not understand, she didn’t care. We had to break her of that notion and direct her to a different path. Otherwise ... well, otherwise she would turn completely dark and then we would have another decision to make.

  “You don’t understand about magic,” I started, choosing my words carefully.

  Dani didn’t let me finish. “Oh, that’s a bunch of crap.” Before I could stop her, she lifted her hands and muttered something in Latin I couldn’t quite make out. The sound of screaming birds assailed my ears, and when I looked in that direction I saw flocks of ducks and gulls swooping toward us with clear intent.

  “Knock it off!” I gave her a good shake as Aunt Tillie threw up a protection spell to dissuade the birds from attacking. “How many times have I told you to stay away from the birds? You can’t call them to do your bidding whenever you feel annoyed with life.”

  The defiance we’d been trying to smother sparked in Dani’s eyes, and I sensed trouble. “I can do whatever I want.”

  “No, you can’t. Everybody lives by certain rules.”

  “Witches don’t have to live by the rules. That’s why it’s fun to be a witch.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but witches live by the same rules as everybody else. No matter who you are, rules have to be followed. Nobody gets to live a rule-free life.”

  Behind me, Aunt Tillie cleared her throat, earning a dark glare from me. “Don’t you start,” I warned.

  “I didn’t say anything.” Aunt Tillie was the picture of faux innocence. “I’m on your side.”

  “Uh-huh.” I shook my head and turned back to Dani. The look she shot Aunt Tillie was of the “I’m going to pay you back when nobody is looking, old lady” variety and the possibilities made my stomach quiver. “Let’s take a break,” I suggested, mustering as much enthusiasm as I could. “Dani, why don’t you get a soda and sit under the tree and think about what I told you for a change, huh? How does that sound?”

  “Boring.” Dani was never one to sugarcoat her words. She was blunt, to the point of being rude, and she knew it. She also relished her position of power. She recognized we were trapped in a difficult situation. When we opted to spare her weeks earlier — her murderous aunt was a different story — we knew we were essentially creating a situation that could go very wrong. Unfortunately, that appeared to be where we were heading. Dani didn’t want to get better. She refused to see that she’d done anything wrong. If we couldn’t break her of her penchant for dark magic, her willingness to endanger (and even kill) others, things would fall apart quickly. Fear of what we’d be forced to do if that happened kept me up late at night.

  “Well, you’ll look forward to boring afternoons when you’re my age,” I said, flashing what I hoped would pass as a friendly smile. “You should take advantage of your downtime now.”

  “Afternoons don’t have to be boring,” Dani persisted, refusing to let it go. “I know you’re old and you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be fun, but we could go out and do things.”

  I reminded myself that constantly shooting down her ideas was a surefire way to embitter her and adopted my best “I’m a reasonable person and you can trust me” expression. “Okay. What do you want to do?”

  Dani shrugged. She seemed surprised by my sudden about-face. “Um ... we could go downtown and cast a spell to make Mrs. Little’s unicorns come to life and attack her.”

  I shook my head. “We’re trying to stay away from dark magic.”

  “Hold up,” Aunt Tillie countered, raising her hand. “She might have an interesting idea there.”

  I flicked my great-aunt’s ear, causing her to yelp and glare. “Stop encouraging her. She’s getting mixed messages.”

  “Yes, but Margaret is the Devil,” Aunt Tillie insisted. “Tell me the idea of her running from a hundred different pewter unicorns only a few inches tall doesn’t sound like fun.”

  “We’re not doing it.” I was firm as I rubbed my forehead. “She needs to learn about white magic. That’s why you two are spending so much time with her.”

  I flicked my eyes to Hazel Weller, the other witch in our homeschooling trio, and found her watching the lapping waves as they touched the sand rather than paying attention. She looked lost in thought.

  “Hey!” I snapped my fingers in her face to get her attention. I wouldn’t have dared act so impudently when I was a kid. I was terrified that she could turn me into a frog or worse when I was younger, but I’d had it. “You guys are supposed to be directing her to safe spells,” I reminded them.

  “We have been,” Hazel protested, returning to the conversation at hand. I’d been dubious when she first volunteered to help us with Dani after the solstice celebration seve
ral weeks ago. She’d proven to be gung-ho, though. Unfortunately, she also was ineffective. Dani had zero respect for her, and she wasn’t even remotely shy about putting her real feelings on display.

  “She’s not interested in safe spells,” Aunt Tillie explained. She wasn’t exactly Hazel’s biggest fan, but they were on the same page today. “She gravitates toward the dark ... just like her aunt.”

  I recognized what she wasn’t saying. She thought Dani should’ve been dealt with in the same manner as her aunt, Diane. They were both technically murderers, though the aunt did the heavy lifting while Dani provided endless power. One of the victims had been Dani’s father, so I was still hopeful that she’d get it together and realize that she’d done wrong at the behest of an unstable woman.

  So far, I was coming up empty.

  “The spells they want me to cast are weak,” Dani complained. “I mean ... that one wanted to make me focus on turning the flow of the waves in the lake in the opposite direction.” Her scowl told me exactly what she thought of the suggestion as she glared at Hazel. “What good is that?”

  “It’s not about whether or not the spell is good,” I argued. “It’s about whether your intentions are good. Bringing Mrs. Little’s unicorns to life so they can attack her is pretty much the opposite of good intentions.”

  “Yeah, but ... she’s evil.” This time Dani looked to Aunt Tillie for confirmation. “She’s a bad person. That means we can do bad things to her.”

  “No, that’s not what it means,” I shot back. “There is no Wiccan rule that allows for that.”

  “You guys have been torturing that woman for years,” Dani countered. “Aunt Diane told me so. She told me stories about yellow snow and poisoned food. You just don’t want me to have any fun, so you set different rules for me while you do whatever you want.”

  I wanted to argue the point, but she wasn’t exactly wrong. Some of the things we’d done to Mrs. Little over the years made us look like hypocrites. “Listen ... .”

  Aunt Tillie stirred before I could come up with a reason that we were exempt from the very rules I was trying to teach Dani.

  “The difference is that we don’t want to maim or kill Margaret when we mess with her,” Aunt Tillie offered evenly. “We only want to irritate her. That’s allowed.”

  Dani wrinkled her delicate nose. “Says who?”

  “Says anyone with half a brain,” Aunt Tillie, never known for patience, fired back. “We’re not talking about us anyway. We’re talking about you. We’re not the ones who had a hand in your father’s murder. That was you.”

  Dani’s expression darkened. “He had it coming. He cheated on my mother.”

  “Your parents were essentially separated but still living together,” Aunt Tillie fired back. “They were sticking it out until you and your brother were out of the house. Then they were going to move on like adults.”

  “That’s not how it works,” Dani insisted. “When you get married, it’s supposed to last forever.” Her eyes moved back to me. “Tell them.”

  I balked. “Why should I tell them? I’m not married.”

  “No, but you and that FBI agent are all over each other every second of the day,” Dani shot back. “People in town talk about it constantly. I heard Mrs. Little call you fornicators. I looked up the word when I got home. That means you’re having sex.”

  My cheeks burned under the girl’s scrutiny. She knew exactly what to say to knock me off my game. It was one of her superpowers.

  “They’re totally fornicators,” Aunt Tillie agreed, not missing a beat. “It’s disgusting the way they look at each other. I’m often embarrassed at the way they act. But that’s their business. They’re not hurting anybody.”

  “I didn’t say they were.” Dani’s youth made it impossible to turn her back on a fight. Aunt Tillie’s stubbornness forced the same outcome. It looked as if they were going to go at each other hard now, and there was no way out of it. “This is about marriage, or at least about relationships. When you’re with someone, you’re not supposed to cheat on them. You marry forever. That’s right in the vows.”

  I hesitated, unsure what I was supposed to say. I finally went with my gut. “I’m sure when your parents started out they thought they would be together forever. Nobody goes into a marriage convinced it’s going to fail.”

  Dani stubbornly folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes, refusing to meet my gaze. She didn’t want to listen. I kept talking anyway.

  “Sometimes, despite the best of our intentions, things don’t work out the way we think they’re going to,” I persisted. “My parents divorced when I was a kid because things got too difficult for them to stay together. They still cared about one another, but they couldn’t stay married and be happy. Thistle’s parents split up for the same reason ... and Clove’s as well. Sometimes it just happens.”

  “It’s not right,” Dani insisted. “When you make vows, you should stick to them.”

  Unsure, I turned to Aunt Tillie. “Do you want to help me here?”

  “I agree with her,” Aunt Tillie replied. “When you marry, it should be for life. Your mother and father took the easy way out, but I was happy, because I never liked your father. He was always king of the milquetoasts.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You’re not helping.”

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to be helping.” Aunt Tillie was blasé as she threw herself into one of the canvas chairs surrounding the bonfire pit. The camp was run-down. I wasn’t sure it was all that safe for Dani and Hazel to stay in one of the cabins that littered the property, but we needed to isolate the teenager. The old camp, which my boyfriend Landon had recently purchased with Aunt Tillie’s help, seemed our best option. He wanted to eventually build a house for us on the property.

  “You’re encouraging her obnoxiousness,” I hissed. “She needs to learn balance. All she wants to do is play with dark magic. You know what’ll happen if she insists on playing that game.”

  I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. By the time I realized what was coming out of my mouth, it was too late to take it back.

  “And what’s that?” Dani asked blankly. “What’s going to happen if I keep up with the dark magic?”

  I couldn’t answer her question. Every time I looked at her I remembered the way she reacted when her aunt died. There was no remorse. The sadness wasn’t for the loss of a family member as much as for being declared the loser of that particular fight. In truth, one of the things that terrified me most was the idea that, on top of everything else, Dani was a sociopath. She didn’t seem to react normally to the small curves life threw her way.

  Aunt Tillie had warned me this endeavor was too big to take on. I did it anyway. Hazel volunteered to help, pausing her life because she thought Dani could be saved. Now I wasn’t certain either of us believed that. We didn’t say it, though, because the minute Dani became a lost cause serious discussions would need to be had — and nobody wanted to go that route just yet.

  “She means that we’ll have to lock you up in a warded basement for the rest of your life,” Aunt Tillie replied, the lie easily rolling off her tongue. “It’ll be a lot of work, but that’s the course of last resort. Do you want to be locked in the basement?”

  Dani looked taken aback. “No. I ... you can’t do that.” Her eyes flashed hot as they landed on me. “You can’t lock me in a basement.”

  I decided to embrace the lie. “We can do whatever we want,” I argued. “Your mother has washed her hands of you. She’s afraid after what you did to your father — and what you tried to do to her. She won’t complain if we imprison you.”

  “Yeah, but ... you live with an FBI agent,” she argued, refusing to let it go. “He won’t allow you to lock me up. There are laws and stuff.”

  “He’s an FBI agent who understands about the paranormal world,” I countered. “He knows what you’ve done. He wanted to find a way to lock you up from the start. We took up for you and suggested we co
uld rehabilitate you. He won’t have the slightest problem locking you up if it comes to it.”

  Dani worked her jaw, looking for a way out. “I’m not a bad person,” she said finally.

  I wanted to believe her. Badly. I just wasn’t sure. “Then you need to try harder,” I said. “You’re not putting any effort into this. We’re doing all the heavy lifting. It can’t continue. In fact ... .” I lost my train of thought as a hint of movement across the lake caught my attention.

  “Continue,” Aunt Tillie prodded. “You were about to put the fear of the Goddess in her. Don’t stop now.”

  I ignored her and pointed to the shore directly across from us. “Do you see someone standing over there?”

  Three heads snapped in that direction.

  “No,” Dani and Hazel said simultaneously.

  I focused on Aunt Tillie. “And you?”

  She moved her jaw and sighed. “There might be something,” she said finally. “The glare from the sun makes it hard to see.”

  We shared the same witchy gift, so that was all the confirmation I needed. “I have to go over there.”

  “Why?” Hazel asked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s a ghost,” Aunt Tillie volunteered. “She sees a ghost. And if there’s an errant soul hovering over there that probably means there’s a body, too. At least that’s the likeliest scenario.”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned on Hazel’s face and she swallowed hard. “We should go with you. You know, just in case.”

  Just in case there wasn’t a murderer, I surmised, resigned. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate. This ghost would probably add a whole other wrinkle. That’s the last thing I needed.

  Two

  The quickest way across the lake was by boat, but we only had an old canoe, which I was convinced would start taking on water partway across the lake.

  “Stop being a baby,” Aunt Tillie ordered, climbing into the canoe and fixing me with an expectant look. “The lake is small. Even if we sink, we’ll be fine.”