A Throwback Witch (Wildes Witch Academy Book 1)

by Holly Ice

  ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  But it did, in a horrible, dark sort of way. ‘They’ll say I pressured him, that he was going to tell the “truth” on the stand and told me so. That I killed him to keep his version quiet.’

  Shane cursed. ‘Some of those streets must have CCTV.’

  ‘I’d bet on the WMCF already getting to it and erasing it.’

  ‘What makes you think they’re in on this?’

  ‘They told the coven about Lyall.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean they’d cover up a murder!’

  ‘They think I killed their friend, Shane.’ If they believed me, someone would’ve come forward to give evidence. Justin didn’t run his operation alone. He had the technician, a liaison, and his boss, and those were just the people I knew about.

  Shane pinched his nose and sighed.

  We both knew I’d been set up. And I didn’t ken anyone who could convince the coven otherwise. Hell, most the coven could be in on it. At least half of them were in the same family line as a recent throwback, and two had a Cognata throwback in an academy. Then four of them had dead relatives, courtesy of my Wildes ancestors. Plenty of reasons to get rid of me.

  The door to the waiting room creaked open. Andris peered in. ‘They’re ready for you.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘They’ve heard enough to make a decision.’

  I hugged Shane and followed Andris through the halls into the courtroom. I walked out through a door on the back wall, near the coven’s table, but they’d schooled their expressions. It was when I looked at the crowd and saw the witnesses in the pews that I knew what was coming. McKee was front and centre, and his gleeful smirk said it all.

  Andris nudged me. ‘In the stand.’

  I walked on numb legs and stared through, rather than at, the coven as the leader stood.

  He spread his hands, indicating the witnesses on the pews and me in the stand. ‘We’ve heard summary statements from the main witnesses to Bianca’s behaviour at the academy and after she returned to her flat in Edinburgh, and we have come to a decision.’ Tibor dropped his hands and met my eyes. ‘Bianca Nash is hereby arrested pending trial for the illegal acquisition of DNA and for the murder of Justin Holt. A lawyer will be appointed if she doesn’t yet have one, and the trial date will be set in due course. In the meantime, she is to be kept in custody. Thank you.’

  The coven stood and left through the same back door I’d walked through as a free woman only minutes before.

  Andris’s partner had the cockiest grin as he advanced, twirling his handcuffs. I searched for Shane, but he was lost in the celebrating crowd. Andris’s partner yanked me around and slammed the magical cuffs on my wrists, tightening them until they bit into my flesh.

  ‘You’re going where Wildes belong.’ He dragged me towards the back doors.

  I twisted around. Shane was pushing against the crowd, his uncle tugging him back. Shane slapped at his grip but couldn’t get away before the door closed and my guard threw me handcuffed into a waiting car. This time, door locks clunked into place.

  Chapter 22

  The WMCF processed me quickly, with little fuss. But Andris’s partner, Eryk, marched me from place to place, often shoving me into tables or against doorjambs. He made it seem accidental, but the fake surprise and monotone apologies said otherwise.

  At our next stop, he waited outside.

  Two female guards supervised while I changed into the black prison uniform. Efficient and emotionless, one took my personal clothes and the other joined Eryk and I for the walk to the cells.

  We were miles and miles from Cesvaine, in a dark, cement building. Of course, the cells were downstairs.

  The lighting on this level was dimmer. Every five metres, another security door cut through the corridor, the barred metal covered with a multicoloured sheen that told me a jailbreak would be far more difficult than one in the human world. It still seemed surreal. Like I wasn’t here.

  We walked past dozens of empty cells. They were all the same, barred where they met the corridor and walled on the other three sides. An off-the-floor, two-by-one-metre ‘bed’ of wooden slats with a five-centimetre foam mattress, a toilet behind a very low wall, and a sink. Bare essentials.

  Wait, there. An excruciatingly thin man with a coarse beard grown to his stomach. A human-sized lump curled under a thin blanket occupied his neighbouring cell. So I wasn’t alone.

  But the other cells were empty, right to the end wall.

  My female guard opened the right-hand cell. When I didn’t move, she shoved me through. I shuffled to stop myself from sprawling. Andris’s partner laughed, but the woman didn’t say anything. She waited for me to regain my footing and then signalled me over.

  I eyed her, but she didn’t look like she’d push me again. So I went back, and she removed my handcuffs. I went to rub my wrists, but she stopped me.

  She and Andris’s partner flicked their hands and chanted a strange phrase. A multicoloured spell looped around each of my wrists. I could move freely, but I felt weaker.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Jail procedure,’ Andris’s partner said. ‘It binds your magic. You can’t hurt yourself or anyone else in here.’

  The woman physically and magically locked my door, and they left.

  I stared at the empty cell opposite for a good minute before I padded over to the bed. The wooden boards poked me through the mattress, and there was no pillow. The blanket was so thin it was see-through in the dim lighting. I brought my knees to my chest and leant against the wall. The chill from the cement seeped through my top.

  No windows either, not underground. And no company. It’d be so easy for them to forget me down here.

  Footsteps raced along the hall. They skittered to a stop outside my cell.

  ‘Shane! They let you in?’

  He glared down the hall. ‘They did their best not to, but they had to. It’s visiting hours.’ He shook his head at my cell. ‘This is high security. They didn’t have to put you here. Or bind you.’ He eyed the multicoloured bracelets. ‘Did they tell you what those do?’

  ‘They said they’d bound my magic.’

  ‘Not strictly true. They bind offensive magic, but not all your magic. That solution is far more… permanent.’

  Yes, we’d read about that. It required an entire coven of powerful witches to funnel enough power through a witch that the familiar, as the conduit, burned out.

  ‘They’d have done that if they could. Wildes witches never seem to get a fair trial.’ I bit my lip. I shouldn’t talk like this. I couldn’t wallow in the injustice of Justin’s death and my incarceration. If that’s all I did, they’d win.

  But I needed help. Desperately.

  ‘Shane, you need to find the people at the WMCF who helped Justin with his operation. They won’t want to talk, but we need to find a way.’ We only needed one of them to speak for me.

  ‘That could take a while.’

  I stared at the smooth cement floor. ‘I know.’

  Shane put his hands through the bars, reaching out for me. I took them. He was so warm.

  ‘Are you sure you want me to leave? I can stay, be here every day, every visiting hour they allow.’

  I pressed between the bars and kissed him. ‘I’d love that, but I need help. I can’t do anything in here, but you can find people who can make a difference. A lawyer, and witnesses the coven has to listen to.’

  I stared into his hazel eyes. It was so dingy I couldn’t see the green in them, only the brown. He nodded, squeezed my hand, and opened his mouth to say something, but I put my finger to his lips.

  ‘Go now, please.’

  ‘We have another hour.’

  ‘Whoever organised this won’t take an hour off. They’ll be reinforcing their story.’

  The quicker we moved, the less they’d have against me. And if he didn’t go now, I’d want to keep him here all night. We had to focus on the way forward.

&nbs
p; Shane dropped my hand and stared hard into my eyes but, eventually, he stepped back. ‘Don’t do anything stupid. And I’m still visiting. Every day. Anything that helps your case, you’ll be the second to know, after me.’

  I smiled. I hadn’t thought a total ban would work. ‘Be careful out there, okay?’ They’d set me up for murder, and witches had already thrown rocks at him. I eyed his cut. ‘No more war wounds.’

  ‘No promises!’ He blew me a kiss and backed out of sight.

  I kept hold of the bars. It wasn’t strictly true I couldn’t do anything… My offensive magic was bound, but that didn’t include spirit.

  McKee’s evil smirk flew into my head, and the look where he seemed to promise to get rid of me. I couldn’t let him win.

  So while Shane found people to help us the official way, I’d brush hands or skin with everyone I met or passed from now through the trial. I’d use anything I Saw that helped the case. I’d get out of here. And then I was coming for the bastards who killed Justin and put me in here.

  Author Note

  Thank you for reading A Throwback Witch. I hope you enjoyed this introduction to the Wildes Witch Academy series. Book two, A Dangerous Witch, is up for pre-order here: http://tiny.cc/lazqlz

  If you’re not ready to leave this world yet and you’d like to know more about Shane and his accident, you can read his prequel story here: http://tiny.cc/yndklz

  The power of a reader

  It means a lot to me to have you share (and hopefully enjoy) the worlds and characters I create. Giving you a few hours of exciting escapism is what I aim for.

  If you have a few minutes before delving into your next read, you can help other readers decide if this book is for them and greatly increase the exposure this book gets and the marketing opportunities I can apply for by leaving a short review: http://tiny.cc/tsdklz

  Thanks again.

  Holly

  Acknowledgements

  My greatest thanks goes to my designer, Mary at MiblArt, for creating such a beautiful book cover, to my copyeditor, Emmy at StudioENP, and to all my friends who have read and given feedback to improve this story: Mae, Paige, Ian, Jordane, Kaz, Michaela, and Maddy. My mum and dad also have my thanks for offering their expertise as ex-bikers, so that I can better understand Shane and the kind of bike he might own. Finally, my wonderful family in Latvia have my thanks for introducing me to Cesvaines pils, the castle-like mansion which inspired the setting for Wildes Witch Academy. The building was even a school for many years!

  About the Author

  I’m based in the rural outskirts of Bristol in south-west England. I live with two adopted cats with a dose of Maine Coon, a boyfriend of many years, and an overactive imagination. I write speculative fiction (fantasy, sci-fi, and horror), often with a touch of romance. But I spend a lot of my time reading, and binge watching TV series. I also attempt to garden and go running regularly, but often fall short on that score. Oops!

  Links to my main social media hot spots are below.

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