by Jade Alters
The Spell’s Price
Jade Alters
Contents
1. Hope
2. Jared
3. Hope
4. Max
5. Hope
6. Hope
7. Hope
8. Freddie
9. Hope
10. Hope
11. Hope
12. Dylan
13. Hope
14. Jared
15. Hope
16. Hope
17. Hope
18. Freddie
19. Max
20. Hope
Epilogue
Afterword
Also by Jade Alters
© Copyright 2019 – Starchild Universal Publishers. All rights reserved.
It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.
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Hope
“Mille!” I shuffle through the kitchen, still in my robe and bunny slippers. Millie, my devoted and slightly elderly cocker spaniel is hiding again. I'm guessing she’s in my closet, gnawing on an old pair of Crocs. Well, if your dog is going to chew on your shoes, they may as well be Crocs. I actually suspect that was their original purpose.
“Mille!” I call again, yawning and rubbing my eyes. “Breakfast!”
I hear a thump and then the telltale tap-tap-tap of claws on the linoleum. Millie shuffles in and looks up at me imploringly. She has big brown spots and long ears and baleful eyes. She looks like she’s in agony about half the time, and it’s ridiculous. I’ve never met a more spoiled dog. I spend too much money on fancy dog food just because she kept giving me that look. I guess I’m a sucker.
“Here you go, baby,” I mumble pouring out a packet of wet food followed by some kibble into her bowl. “Good morning, Mills.”
Mills lets me rub her head, but then I back away from her bowl, letting her enjoy her food. I stretch and go about making a pot of coffee. As a barista at a very bougie coffee place, I’m a monster of the cold brew and I make some pretty stellar latte art. Which means, of course, that at home, I don’t care at all. I love coffee, and I have absolutely no desire to spend time on it at home because that’s work. Anyway, I get the good beans at a steep discount, and my coffee maker is decent. If I want to get fancy, I might use the French press. But that’s it. Now, I pour my water, spoon grounds into my filter, and flick on the coffee maker. Done.
I am so tired.
My shift at Cafe Amour doesn’t even begin until noon. That means I have some time to fool around or at least wake up properly. That’s good because knowing I didn’t have to be at work until noon means I, of course, stayed up way too late. It’s not my fault there are too many good shows for me to catch up on. Plus, my friends keep bugging me to watch This Is Us because I guess they love to see me cry. I binged with a box of Kleenex while texting my buddies who only laughed at my pain. Then I finally dropped off to sleep at three with Millie curled up at the foot of the bed. So I’m pretty groggy now, but that’s okay because I have some time.
I lean on the counter, scrolling Instagram, and when my coffee is ready, I fix a cup and stand there, slowly waking up. What I should do this morning is go for a run. It’s been a while, and my little panther muscles feel tense as hell. I need to stretch my legs and hunt a bit, maybe even go find some herbs for spells.
Alright, so I’m a panther shifter. I have some magic, or at least, enough to try spells once in a while. I’m not a fully trained witch by any means, but I can still do some stuff. I mainly do spells just for fun, I guess. I try not to get too crazy though, especially not being trained. That’s how accidents happen. But hey, this is the internet age. People do magic on YouTube now.
When I’m properly awake, I drag myself to the shower and get ready for the day.
It’s going to be warm and humid outside, but I think I can still get by in jeans. I live in Florida, in a town called Foggy River, so named because the river is more like a swamp. But that also means I’m close to some nice woods, which is good if you’re a shifter. I live in my aunt’s house that she left to me; it’s a cottage on the fringe of Foggy’s woods. You’ll never know what you’ll get when you go into the forest. There’s a lot of magic going on around this area. On the other hand, there’s a lot of poison oak too. There are also a lot of gators who like to get lost and surprise you when you just want to take a run by the water. But that’s just Foggy River life, I guess.
Even Millie’s come up against gators before. Luckily, they were alligator shifters and didn’t particularly want to chow down on anybody’s pet. Phew.
“Okay, Mills, I’m goin’.” I pat Mille on the head and then I head out, shifting just a few steps away from my back door. Millie is used to my panther by now, but she’s still wary when I shift, so I try to put some space between us before I bust my cat out.
I’ve lived in my aunt’s house for about five years, and I’ve been running in these woods since I got here, so I know them pretty well by now. These are not the tall pines and firs you get back east or the redwoods of the west. Here, we got the giant cypress trees, the bushy buttonwoods, palms, ferns, and other types I don’t know how to identify. I keep meaning to learn more about the fauna around here, but it’s just one of those things I never seem to get around to. Instead, I’m catching up on This Is Us. Except for now, when I’m busy running.
Even if I can’t identify every tree and plant, as a shifter, I still know them. I know my whole environment in a way that I don’t when I’m human. I know which plants are toxic from the smell and which will attract prey. I know when the heat is about to start getting worse and when it’s about to rain. Running in Foggy’s woods makes me feel connected to the earth in a way that grounds me. It makes me thankful that I live so close to the forest. If I didn’t, I think I’d just about lose my mind. It also means that I’m a little out of town. My cottage is on a dirt road and all there is close by is a small general goods store. It’s a few miles further to get to the strip of cute shops where I work at Cafe Amour, but I don’t mind the distance. I kind of like being out of the way.
I stretch my legs as I run, delighting in the stretch and pull of my muscles. It’s muggy and warm out, but I don’t mind that. A heron with a death wish chirps at me by the water and I play with him, not intending to kill. It’s mean, but the thing is terrified, and that amuses me. It keeps hopping away and I pounce after it until I have it cornered. Then I just let it go.
I’m deep, deep, deep in the woods, and I know I should probably shift if I’m going to gather some herbs, and then start to make my way back. But I’m having fun. That’s about when I hear a deep sound, not unlike chanting, coming from the swamp.
I follow the sound, my big sandy brown ears perking up. I sniff around trying to figure out what it is that’s making that strange noise and find myself drawing closer to the thick, warm air of the swamp where the moss and mud make paws sink into the ground.
“Come, lords of darkness...lords of light...let us make this sacrifice...for your gifts bestowed upon me...Come, lords of darkness….”
The chant is coming from a tall, middle-aged dude in a gray robe. He’s holding a staff over a panther that’s lying on the ground. The panther isn’t a shifter, that much I can tell. I can also smell its fear. It’s terrified. Suddenly, I can sense the power
of the guy’s magic too and it’s like a pungent stench. This guy is a wizard and a strong one at that.
He’s also about to kill this panther from what I can tell. That staff is a pointy and unpleasant looking end. I feel a rush of anger. How dare he? I tense back on my hind legs, about to pounce. I feel so bad for the panther. It looks so scared and confused. I’m hidden back in some bushes and I see it turn its head. It senses me, even if the wizard doesn’t.
All at once, just as the wizard is bringing his staff down to kill the dazed panther, I pounce. My aim isn’t to kill the wizard so I’m careful, but I send him flying into the swamp. I land in a heap with the panther, who is obviously scared and startled and doesn’t realize I’m trying to help him.
If I were in human form, I’d have a strong urge to laugh at the wizard who’s gone head over feet into the old, muddy water. He’s wearing sandals too. Good luck trying to get out of the swamp in those. But I’m not in human form. I’m a panther and this panther whose life I just saved is pissed at me. I roll into a stance and he scrambles to his feet, growling at me with wild eyes, his back legs tensed.
Meanwhile, I feel a spell whizz by me. There’s no mistaking that kind of electric feeling around me. I turn back and see the wizard on his feet. He’s got a long nose and big dark eyes that don’t look happy.
Oh shit.
I gotta get out of here.
Then it’s on. I’m being chased through the woods. I’m not very worried. This panther might want to fight me, but he’s not going to kill me. I...hope. He probably just sees me as a threat. I’m more worried about the wizard, but when I look back, he hasn’t moved. He’s just standing there back in the swamp with his staff, chanting and looking very angry. But I should be out of range of any big spells in a second if I can just move fast enough.
I jump a log and make a sharp turn around a tree. I feel another spell zip past and sends a thrill of fear through my body. But it does miss me. I would’ve felt it if the spell hit me. I make a couple of sharp turns, trying to lose Mr. Grumpy Pants panther behind me but the guy is stuck to me like glue.
I might have been too cocky thinking I wasn’t in danger because this guy hasn’t given up after a few minutes of the chase, and now he’s gaining on me. I run as hard as I can while dodging other animals, swerving around trees, and jumping obstacles. This is not how I planned for my morning to go. I should be getting home about now and getting ready for my shift. Just as I’m thinking that I’m going to be so sweaty when I shift back that I’ll probably need to shower, the panther springs and dives right at me. We go tumbling together into a very unpleasant pile of thorny sticks. The sticks just scratch me lightly. The panther does not. His claws come out and I feel the sharp pain of a swipe at my hide. I growl, swiping back, trying to fight.
I was trying to save you, dumbass, I think to myself as I fight for my life.
The swipe feels pretty shallow but then I feel a deeper scratch at my shoulder with every bit of strength in me, I throw the cat off and bolt. I head for the back road, thinking I might lose him if I get nearer to some humans. Either that, or it’s going to get much worse much more quickly. I can smell people up ahead and I run towards what I think is a house. When I see a veranda through the trees I run faster, scrambling through some strong smelling bushes, hoping the clash of scents will confuse the panther. Just as quickly, I shift into human form and run for my life, up the steps of the house’s veranda, dashing around to the front porch, and barrelling for the front door.
The house is huge, much bigger than mine. It’s one of those big old Southern houses and it’s just hiding here, set well off from the road in the middle of Foggy’s woods. I’ve passed it before, a long time ago. I remember it being pretty run down, but now there are a couple of cars parked on the lawn in front as there’s no proper driveway or garage. Hopefully, somebody is home who can help me.
“Help! Help! Help!” I pound on the door. My shoulder is killing me and there’s blood starting to soak through my t-shirt. It’s not a horrible wound and as a shifter, I know I’ll heal quickly. But it’s not exactly delightful either. My side is also stinging where the panther swiped at me. I can hear it, having slowed down now, prowling around. It probably smells a human now and not my cat. It’s likely confused, but it might not stay confused for long.
I can hear somebody moving around inside the house and I bounce on my toes, clenching my eyes shut. The panther is behind the house, but he could be on me in seconds, I’m sure. Just when I hear an agitated growl too close for comfort, the door opens and I lay eyes on one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen in my life.
The guy is wearing gym pants and nothing else. He looks sweaty like he was just working out, a small towel over one shoulder. He must work out a lot too because he’s got abs for days and biceps to match. I feel my face heat up several degrees even as I start babbling.
“Ple-please let me in,” I say, stuttering. “There’s a panther chasing me and he got me already! He scratched me!”
“Whoa, whoa!” The guy steps back and opens the door wider, gently taking me by the arm to tug me inside. The gesture aggravates my shoulder and I wince. He notices immediately, letting me go as he shuts the door behind me. “A panther is after you?”
“Yes!” I’m still breathless from running, and I push my hair back. I have a mass of dark, curly hair, and I usually don’t mind it but after all the running, it’s sticking to my skin. I reach up to pull my hair off my neck, blinking up at this gorgeous dude as he squints at me, hands on his hips, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
“Oh shit,” he mutters. “Your shoulder... Oh, hell.” He comes around to take a look at my bleeding shoulder and hisses. “Hey, that looks bad. Why don’t you come in and let me dress that up?” He looks at me, waiting for my consent. “Or I could take you to the hospital. Up to you. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
I smile softly. He seems like a thoughtful kind of guy. “I heal quickly,” I say, hoping I won’t have to explain further. “I don’t think I need a hospital. But if you have a first aid kit, I can handle it myself.”
“Don’t be silly.” He winks at me and grins, all southern charm. “Let’s get this taken care of. Hey, Freddie!” The guy spins around on his heel to face me even as he backs up to let me inside. He wipes his sweaty face with a towel and sighs. “You’ll have to excuse my appearance here, ma’am. It’s arm day.”
“No worries,” I say, blushing just a little bit.
“I’m Jared, by the way.” He touches his chest, gesturing to himself and then sticks his hand out for me to shake. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Jared has a shock of jet black hair just long enough to curl under his ears. He also has startling ice-blue eyes. His looks would be severe if it wasn’t for the cute little dimple in his chin.
He’s also a gentleman type.
Lord have mercy.
I clear my throat and hope I don’t look as flustered as I feel. “Pleasure’s all mine. I’m Hope.” I have an urge to curtsy. I’m not used to chivalry like this.
“Freddie!” Jared shouts in the direction of the stairs through cupped hands and I take a little look around. The house is really a mansion. The outside featured brand new white wood siding, clearly having just been renovated. Inside, it looks like a very old fashioned kind of southern mansion with big windows and old but stately furniture that looks like it’s been passed down through generations. We’re standing in the foyer near a wide stairwell, and I can see into the parlor. The place is airy thanks to the big windows, but it feels warm and friendly. It feels like a place where you’d come to eat homemade ice cream in the summer and fan yourself on the porch while sipping lemonade with some gin in it. I half expect some grande dame in a big white hat to saunter down the stairs and offer me a mint julep.
“Hold your horses, Jar,” A voice says from the other room. “Don’t get your….” A second brunette with long hair that touches his shoulders walks in, staring down a
t an iPad. He wears glasses, and he has a warm brown complexion. When he looks up over the rim of his glasses, I see his big dark eyes, his lashes fluttering as he stops short. He takes off his glasses and frowns at me. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I was gonna say. Who’s this?” He points at me and looks at Jared.
“Very polite, Freddie,” Jared says darkly. “This is our guest, Hope. She was bein’ chased by a panther outside. She requires medical attention. Make yourself useful for once and go get the first aid. I need to make myself look a dash more respectable.”
Freddie nods, taking in the information dump. I watch him clear his throat, straightening his hair as he looks over at me. He seems slightly nervous. “I apologize for my poor manners, ma’am.”
Freddie’s wearing a black button-down shirt, but I can tell he’s just as fit as Jared, if a little leaner. When he sticks his hand out for me to shake, I blush just at the sight of those tantalizing brown forearms revealed by his rolled up sleeves.
“That’s alright,” I say, resisting the urge to giggle. I shake his hand. I feel so warm. I see plenty of cute guys working at the coffee house but these two...Holy hell. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Freddie says, nodding. He leans back, watching Jared head up the stairs and says, “Where’s Max? He should do first aid. He’s the EMT for cryin’ out loud!”
“I don’t know!” Jared says. “But there’s a kit in the first floor bathroom! Go get it! I’ll be right back!”
“I feel bad causing all this trouble,” I say. I do truly feel like I’ve ruined their morning.
