Wayward Witch

by Samantha Bell

  A witch's (or warlock's) power came from their soul and theirs were weak. Unlike those mages. Blake, Knox and Zane. They commanded respect. Power practically radiated off them. Ugh, they were so delicious but I had to keep my head on my shoulders. This was not the time or place for seducing powerful dark mages. I had to focus on getting out and that was that.

  Just as I made it to the stairs, I felt a twinge of power disrupt the air. I looked over my shoulder to see that jerk shifter Bernard and his warlock friend.

  "Well, if it isn't the blue-haired girl." Bernard called out and his friend chuckled.

  I stopped mid-step and turned with a fake smile plastered on my face. "Good evening, gentlemen." I had no intention of standing around and talking to these losers.

  "You know I never got the answer to my question," Bernard said.

  "Don't expect one." I shot back.

  Bernard sauntered over, clenching his hands. "Maybe I'll find out on my own once we get you into your cute uniform tomorrow. Those little skirts are just too easy." He grinned.

  Disgust surged through my body. He was too close. I took another step away, ready to use my magic of he so much as thought about following me upstairs. "Listen, the last guy who touched me without my consent landed in intensive care."

  "Is that why you're here?" Bernard raised his eyebrows. His eyes glittered with animal-like curiosity.

  I laughed cynically. "No, but I don't mind extending my sentence to teach you a lesson."

  "Oooh," The warlock jeered.

  Two curious witches emerged from the sitting room to watch what was unfolding.

  "I'll give you a free tip," Bernard said. "Teachers don't give a shit about us. They may as well be prison guards. It's survival of the fittest around here. I wouldn't go making enemies so fast."

  "Noted," I said flatly. "I'd say the same to you but you obviously are too dumb to take your own advice."

  Bernard growled. "You bitch." He bared his teeth. Such a typical shifter response. Could none of these guys control their anger? "Don't think you're so tough just because the Sons of Hell gave you a little tour."

  Those words caught me off guard. Sons of hell? The mage trio? What a stupid cliche name. Were they in a gang or something? My eyes flicked around the room at the small crowd that was forming to watch the fight. Even the witches from the dining room were sneaking a peek from behind the door. The title "Sons of Hell" made a shiver run through them all. So, those guys really were as feared as they said they were.

  "I don't need anyone to protect me." I said.

  Bernard took that as an invitation to grab my arm.

  I whirled away from him, slamming the can of coke that was in my hand against his face.

  Bernard stumbled back and hissed.

  The can hit the floor with a thunk and rolled away. It stopped at the feet of the tall, dark, and handsome man of my dreams. Blake. Everyone sucked in a collective gasp.

  "What the fuck is going on?" Blake demanded. Knox and Zane appeared behind him. The small crowd of witches, warlocks, and mages shrank away from his pulsating energy.

  I stood straighter, defiant, refusing to tremble like the other cowards.

  A bruise was blossoming on Bernard's cheek. His eye was swollen. "She hit me!" He pointed at me.

  Wow, I knew this guy was a loser but the way his voice cracked just made me want to laugh. I looked at Blake, my power vibrating in unison with his. I stared back at him, his red eyes sending a shiver down my spine. "He asked for it," I said.

  "I don't doubt that." Blake shouldered past Bernard. "Get lost."

  The shifter whimpered (literally whimpered!) and shrank away.

  "So you're the alpha around here, huh?" I crossed my arms over my chest as Blake approached.

  "Don't be cute," He said. "Didn't I tell you not to cross people around here?"

  I was shocked. "Uh, I didn't cross anyone. He was coming after me."

  The retreating crowd hesitated, watching our spat as it unfolded.

  "Also, who do you think you are? You don't get to tell me what to do!" I added. "I didn't ask for protection." I put my hands on my hips. My wand jabbed into my wrist as it slid down my sleeve. In all the commotion I had nearly forgotten about it. My heart jumped as my magic flexed inside me. I wasn't nearly as defenseless as everyone thought.

  Blake glared at me. "I didn't offer protection," he said.

  Zane and Knox exchanged a glance that I couldn't read.

  "Well, I should be going then," I said with a smile. Another encounter with these mages was too much for me to take. Half of the time they sent my body ablaze with desire. The other half they made me want to punch them in their perfectly handsome faces.

  "Those assholes won't be around to protect you forever, girl!" Bernard shouted from across the room.

  That was it. The last straw. My last nerve. "I don't need protection." I shrieked, pulling my wand out of my sleeve and pointing it in his direction. The last few remaining students fled the room. I gripped my wand hard enough to turn my knuckles white.

  "Oh, kitty has claws!" Bernard's warlock friend jeered.

  Blake grabbed my wrist. "Don't even think about it."

  I tore myself away from him. The headmistress had forbidden me to misuse my magic but given me my wand anyway. It was the best form of self-defense I had. "Stay out of this, Blake. This is between me and them."

  "I'm just trying to help," Blake said.

  "I don't need help." I spat back, swinging back my arm and taking aim at Bernard. The magic flowed from my chest and filled me to the brim. My anger seethed and bubbled, cumulating in the hex that flew from my lips.

  Knox pulled Blake back from me as my wand shot sparks towards Bernard. He dodged the hex, which hit the heavy picture frame behind him. The gilded frame came crashing down and shattered.

  Blake grabbed me by my arm again and tugged me up the stairs. "That's enough." He hissed in my ear.

  "Let me go!" I pulled against his strength unsuccessfully. "Let me go! I warning you." I waited only a moment for him to comply before sending my fist into his jaw.

  The shock alone was enough for him to drop me. I fell onto the stairs, grabbing my wand and holding it close to me. I looked up, seeing the terrified expressions on Knox and Zane's faces. The room was deathly quiet.

  Blake blinked and flexed his jaw. His eyes shot daggers towards me, glowing red. "You'll regret that, little blue. I'm going to make your life a living hell."

  FOUR

  ------------------------

  BLAKE

  "I'm going to kill her." I growled under my breath. "She'll regret ever meeting me."

  "Blake, don't say shit like that. You'll just add more time to your punishment," Knox said from across the room.

  I shared a corner dorm room with Knox and Zane. We each had private bedrooms and a decent sized sitting room with sofas, a wide screen tv, and an enchanted fireplace. One of the many perks of having rich parents, even a reform school could be luxurious with a few bribes.

  I was sprawled out across one sofa. Knox had cast a cooling spell on my cheek to keep the swelling down. I had lost count how many times that guy had taken care of my wounds. I'd never have the nerve to look weak in front of anyone but my best friends.

  Zane sat on the arm of the sofa, spinning a pen between his fingers. "She's a firecracker, that girl." He added.

  I touched my face where she punched me. It wasn't hard enough to leave a mark, but the tenderness only reminded me of the audacity she had to strike me in the first place. "She made me look weak in front of everyone. I would have made an example of her right then and there if the headmistress had not shown up to save her ass."

  "There's a lot of things I'd like to do to her ass," Zane grinned.

  I silenced him with a look.

  "What? You're not going to share?"

  I shook my head. "Fuck off." I sighed.

  "Well, I'm just saying. She's cute," Zane said and Knox nodded in agreement.

&nb
sp; Polyandry was commonplace within mage culture, and if I were to share a beautiful woman, I could think of no other men that I would do that with besides Zane and Knox. We were closer than brothers; Sons of Hell. "She's not worth our time," I said. "There's no way that little witch is the girl for us."

  FIVE

  ------------------------

  EVIE

  Ok fine, maybe punching Blake in the face was too much, but I did not take kindly to guys who thought they could pick me up and drag me around like a caveman. I was not some little rag doll that they could use however they wanted. I was one of the most powerful witches of my generation, my family line was as powerful and long as a raging river. I would make the other little witches look like weaklings. Blake might have been able to bully everyone else into submission, but not me.

  Less than twenty-four hours in Woodlock's Home for Magical Delinquents and I had already made a name for myself. Headmistress Gertie had forgiven me for this infraction, but next time I wouldn't be so lucky, or so she said.

  I awoke to the sound of bells being played over the home's intercom system. It was eight o'clock, time to start my first day of reform school. The thought left a bad taste in my mouth. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling for at least ten minutes before forcing myself out of the warm blankets.

  I brushed my hair and got dressed in the school-mandated uniform - a crisp white shirt, blue plaid skirt, and silver tie. I threw a black cardigan over top just to make myself look a little more like the Evie I was used to. Starched dress shirts were so not my thing. I tucked my silver locket under the collar. After pulling my white socks, I wrinkled my nose at the black flats that I was supposed to wear. I shuddered and put on my boots instead.

  I slipped my wand up my sleeve and tucked the end into my cuff. I wasn't going anywhere without a means of self defense. I couldn't count on pop cans or my knuckles to protect myself in this place. Like those girls at dinner said, this place was crawling with criminals and I needed to be smart if I wanted to survive.

  There was a sizzle and a pop, and a scroll of paper appeared in front of my face in a flash of hot light. I jerked back and grabbed it from where it hovered. It was my schedule, just as the Headmistress had promised. I unrolled it, reading it to myself quietly. "Ten o'clock, group therapy. Noon, lunch. Two o'clock, practicing positive magic. Four o'clock, magical laws and ethics." I sighed and folded the paper small enough to fit in my cardigan pocket. Was this a school or a prison? The lines were blurred.

  Breakfast time officially started at nine o'clock, and I learned my lesson last night: do not be late. My stomach grumbled as I walked downstairs.

  Mercifully, I didn't run into anyone as I made my way to the dining room. I learned why when the door swung open. Nearly every chair had someone in it. I found a spot beside the two witches from dinner last night, Vicky and Joanne. They didn't look at me and I swore that Vicky slid her chair away ever so slightly.

  Breakfast was an absolute buffet: bacon, scrambled eggs, cheesy hash browns, toast, fruit salad, the list went on. Unfortunately, it was also disappearing fast. I filled my plate as fast as I could.

  As I ate, I noticed none of the quote unquote "Sons of Hell" were at the table. Was the trio too good to eat with the rest of us? Probably, I thought. I ate quickly and silently, not looking up as the table slowly emptied and groups of students went off to their first class.

  I was the last to leave, which was fine with me. I didn't need any of these people in my life. In fact, I preferred to be alone. It was the only thing I was used to; my parents had barely been around as I grew up. Fending for myself taught me an important lesson, I couldn't depend on anyone but myself.

  I double checked the room number for my group therapy session. Group therapy? Two words that I hated and hated even more when they were together. This was not going to be fun. I pocketed the paper and headed up to the second floor. Anyone I crossed paths with looked down at their feet instead of acknowledging me. Fine by me.

  The group therapy room looked exactly like I thought it would. It was a smaller space on the second floor with a circle of mismatched chairs arranged in the center. Bookshelves lined the back wall and frames with inspirational quotes hung near the door. There was a desk wedged in the corner where a woman sat. She was dressed in a fuzzy pink sweater and working on her laptop when I walked in.

  She looked up over her tortoiseshell glasses. "Oh good morning. I don't normally have students so eager."

  I glanced up at the clock. I was only five minutes early. I forced a shrug. "Yep, can't wait to get started." I lied.

  The woman gestured to the circle of chairs. "Have a seat and we'll begin momentarily."

  I picked a wide rocking chair where I could curl my feet underneath me. A green and orange crochet throw-blanket was draped over the side. I stared at the hexagonal pattern, doing anything to avoid looking at the other students as they came in.

  There were thirteen chairs in total, but only six of them were filled when the clock struck ten. The woman in the fuzzy sweater sat down in a chair with a pink and orange cushion on it; it must have been her designated seat. There were two empty seats of buffer space on either side of her.

  I glanced at the other six students. I didn't know any of them by name, except one. Knox. The quiet pale guy with wintery blond hair and a calm expression. Of course I'd have one of the sexy trio in my group therapy class, I was just lucky that it wasn't Blake. I couldn't imagine someone like him in therapy, even though he probably needed it.

  "Good morning everyone," The woman said. "I'm so pleased to see you all today. We have a new member joining us today." She gestured to me. "So let's give her all a warm welcome." She smiled at me. "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

  "I'm Evie Knight." I said flatly. I gave her a look that screamed I didn't want to say more than that and she mercifully understood.

  "Welcome Evie," She said. "My name is Ms. Lowe and I am Woodlock's resident psychologist. I'm very happy to have you here." She adjusted the sleeves of her pink sweater and turned her attention to the others. "I hope everyone treats Evie nicely. We have a lot to dig into today."

  I cringed and avoided Knox's smirk. His eyes shot a chill down my spine.

  Two of the witches near me whispered something I missed and a giggle rolled through the group.

  Ms. Lowe gave everyone a stern look. "Alright, let's begin. Did everyone bring their reflection journals?"

  So that explained the black books that everyone had. Some were battered and torn, while others were meticulously tabbed and color coded.

  Ms. Lowe glanced at me and snapped her fingers as if forgetting something. She waved her hand, a book appeared out of thin air and landed on my lap. "Sorry dear, almost forgot."

  I blinked in surprise and opened the notebook. Every page was crisp and blank, the scent of fresh binding glue hit me. With a shimmer, my name appeared on the inside cover. EVELYN KNIGHT. I was impressed, though I wouldn't let it show. Ms. Lowe was a mage. I didn't know much about mage magic, but I did know that female mages were incredibly rare.

  "Yesterday's reflection question was: Do I know the difference between evil thoughts and good thoughts?" She went on. "Would anyone like to share their response?"

  An awkward silence spread through the room.

  I blinked as the question appeared on the first page of my book. Looks like I'd have extra homework tonight.

  Knox caught my eye with a wink and raised his hand. "Sure, I'll share, ma'am." He said.

  Oh, great. Judging by the look he gave me, this was not going to end well.

  Knox held up his notebook, which was one of the neater ones, and flipped to the page with his journal entry. "When thinking about this answer, I realized there is no such thing as an evil thought or a good thought. Good and evil are subjective. What is good for some person might be viewed as evil to another, therefore, there is no such thing."

  Ms. Lowe faltered. "Now, I thought we might get an answer like that, but I would argue
that there are some things that a truly evil," She said.

  I glanced back and forth between them.

  Knox shrugged. "I don't know. Some cultures forbid killing animals while we kill them for food and sport," He said. "Some cultures look down upon polyamourous relationships, while mage culture is built around them." He glanced at me again.

  Heat rose in my cheeks.

  Ms. Lowe's voice went up another octave. "Well that may be, but there are other universal evils that we must remember."

  Knox's eyes glittered, he was the sort of guy who loved a challenge between minds. He must be the philosopher of the Sons of Hell triad. "Well you say that, but there is always a counter argument. Take suicide for example, most cultures, especially religious cultures, see suicide as a sin, but throughout history there have been cultures that advocate for suicide in certain situations." He gave her a look as if to dare her to argue.

  Ms. Lowe was getting flustered. She shook her head and sighed sharply. "Does anyone else have opinions on this?"

  I looked away, letting my eyes wander over the motivational posters on the wall.

  Someone raised their hand. A shifter. "I would say," He spoke slowly as he thought out his response. "That good and evil are subjective, but we should act according to the culture and values of where we were brought up and where we live."

  Ms. Lowe nodded eagerly. "That is an excellent point, Matthew."

  Matthew beamed and scribbled some notes down in his book. Teacher's pet. No pun intended.

  I kept a low profile through the rest of the class, listening to people talk about assigned reflection questions and problems they were working through. Knox was dead silent for the next two hours, staring at me as if trying to figure out a puzzle.

  I ignored him, only relaxing when the bell rang through the intercom.

  "Good work everyone," Ms. Lowe said. "Tomorrow's reflection question will appear in your books tonight. We will take them up in the morning. Remember, five paragraph minimum for your response." She gave me a smile as I picked up my notebook. "I thought I would be easy on you for your first session. Tomorrow, I expect some participation, Miss Knight."