by Tara Brown
Witch
Book Four of the Devil’s Roses
A Novel by Tara Brown
Copyright 2012 Tara Brown
http://TaraBrown22.blogspot.com
Amazon Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. No alteration of content is permitted. This book is a work of fiction, any similarities are coincidental. This book contains materials not suited for people under the age of 18. All characters in this fictional story are based entirely on the crazed mind of the author and are not based on any human. Any similarities are by chance and not intentional.
This book is dedicated to my fans—thank you so much. The interest and support has been amazing. I also must thank my husband and children. You supported me even when I was in my writer’s frenzy.
Edited by Andrea Burns
Cover Art by Once Upon a Time Covers
I have enjoyed writing this series and hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much.
Thank you Nick (sexiest proofreader ever)
A special thanks to Mani and Katy and Roof and my friends The Nators. Thank you all.
Other Books by Tara Brown
Cursed, Book One of the Devil’s Roses
Bane, Book Two of the Devil’s Roses
Hyde, Book Three of the Devil’s Roses
Death, Book Five of the Devil's Roses
Born
Born to Fight
Reborn
The Light of the World
Blackwater
Vengeance
The Lonely
LOST BOY
The End of Me
My Side
Prologue
New York 1994
Her eyes adjusted to the dark as she waited for the footsteps that grew louder as they drew closer. Pain ripped through her as she pushed, desperate not to make a sound. The sweat dripping from her brow and landing on the soft cot sounded like a hammer falling upon a nail. The loudest sound in the room was her rapidly-beating heart. It sounded like a drum.
She gasped as the contraction took over. It forced her to push harder against the waves of pain.
Lost in it all, she didn’t notice the door opening. She didn’t notice the finely-manicured hand that propped it open. She didn’t notice the startling green eyes that watched her. Had she noticed them, she would have seen the fear inside of them.
She let a small noise escape her lips, as exhaustion blended with her pushing.
“Lillith.”
Fully engaged in pushing, as her body was thrown into spasms, she ignored the voice. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recognized the voice; relief filled her. It was better than pain medication.
“Lil can you hear me?” The green-eyed woman walked into the room, closing and locking the door.
She nodded, gasping for air.
The sound of running water filled the room, she ignored it. She focused. Her belly tightened with the next contraction, making a scream slip from her lips.
Warm fingers gripped her ankles, “It’s okay, Lil. Deep breathes.”
Hopelessness washed over her as the fingers rubbed her ankles. She felt the pressure, as the head was freed from her canal.
“The head is out, Lil. Stop pushing for a minute.”
She breathed against the stinging sensation and waited for the words allowing her to push again.
“Okay, one more big push and he’s out.”
Lillith clenched every muscle, letting another scream slip from her tight lips, as she pushed the baby out. Instant relief filled her as the screams of the child echoed throughout the sterile room.
She kept her eyes closed. She was terrified it would be the same as the others.
The silence of the other woman told her more than any words ever could.
Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, “Just do it quickly, sister.”
“Lil, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head, “Get rid of her quickly, Anna. I cannot bear for it to be drawn out.” She heaved slightly as her stomached tightened again.
She had never felt such a strong contraction for the placenta before. She knew instantly that something was wrong. Her stomach tightened as if it were ripping. Screams tore their way ripped from her lips. She watched as her midwife placed the baby girl in the carrier and turned back to her.
“It’s another head, Lil.”
She smiled through the pain, he would get his son. She would be free. At long last she would be free.
Chapter One
Alaska
She shivered, watching the night move around her. Nothing made sense anymore. She thought about Aimee, and had to fight the tears that threatened her every moment. She hoped, no matter where Aimee was, she was safe. She couldn’t believe the things Blake said about her, Aimee was no monster.
Blake had become the monster. She knew it wasn’t his fault. He never changed on the outside—he was still the nerdy boy she had fallen in love with, but inside he was dead. Something had changed inside of his eyes, they were lifeless.
A noise outside her room stilled her mind. She felt her breath stop as she scuttled to the corner silently. She moved with stealth, she never knew she possessed.
The darkness of the room was still as she listened to the noise in the hallway. She waited for it to pass by her room, but instead, it remained outside her door.
She felt her stomach lurch forward, as she imagined the horror outside of the room, waiting for her.
She wrapped her arms around her legs and pulled them into her chest. She took shallow breaths, hoping no one could hear. She knew better though, she knew they could hear her. They could hear her fear, as if it were a symphony playing for them.
She closed her eyes and imagined Aimee bursting through the door. She would look the way the panther dude had said she would. Leather pants and huge boots. Her long hair would look like a cape behind her. She would be strong and kick ass on all the freaks that held Alise there.
She maintained her vision of her sister, as the key turned in the lock. The door creaked open, filling the room with thunderous noises. Footsteps crossed the room.
Teeth shot out like a switchblade.
A horrid laugh filled her face, as huge hands grabbed her skinny arms and pulled her into its embrace. She ignored it all, filled with the joy that the vision of her sister provided. She felt herself get lost in the sunlight the long, blond cape brought with it.
Wolfville, Maine: Present Day
Ophelia
“Did you see her eyes last night? That was freaky. They went all black.”
“I think she’s on drugs. She moved the pointer with her hands. I saw her. My brother’s eyes looked like that when he did X. I don’t know how she's related to Abbey.”
"I know, right?"
She tried to ignore the whispers. She couldn’t believe they would say such mean things. She hadn’t moved the stupid marker. The board had been jinxed. Something came through.
She shot a glare at the stupid plastics.
“You never gave me my paper back.” The words left her mouth, only slightly louder than a whisper. She still glared at the girls watching her.
She turned back to see Mr. Paulson glance up from the stack of quiz papers he was about to hand out, “Sorry kid. Let me see if I can find it.”
He picked up his briefcase and flipped through it, “Ah, here it is. Jee
ze, sorry I never marked it. Let me do it quickly now, okay?”
“Okay.”
The whispers got louder. She felt her skin start to crawl as a shiver crossed her.
She turned her gaze to the girls in the corner shooting glances at her.
Mr. Paulson ran through the paper quickly, his eyebrows rose several times. He never underlined a single thing. He never found a single mistake. He whistled and passed it back with an A+.
“Nice work, kid.”
She took the paper and looked over at the popular girls still whispering. She should never have gone to the stupid party. She didn’t belong with them.
She didn’t even like them. They talked about whichever girl couldn’t make it to whatever function they were at. Backstabbing beotches was what Naoms called them.
She couldn’t believe Abbey had wanted her to go to the stupid sleepover. She never should have gone. She should have stayed home with Mackenzie and Naomi to watch the Scream movies back to back, like she had planned.
She took her seat as Mr. Paulson handed out the new quiz. As the paper landed in her fingers, she felt her head grow heavy. She struggled to remain upright.
She looked up from her desk to watch Jake for the smallest of moments. His smile and confidence oozed across the classroom. His eyes caught hers, bringing a smile across his lips. Her heart jumped at him taking notice of her. Then as quickly as it was there, it was gone. He looked away as if confused. It took him a second to bounce back into the quiz paper sitting in front of him.
“No talking. You have fifteen minutes to complete this. When you’re done keep it turned over on your desk.”
She looked down at the questions but the page fuzzed out. She wiped a trembling hand across her face. Her forehead was covered in sweat.
“She’s sweating like a coke-head freak. We should phone and report her.”
“Shhhh. Eyes on the test people.”
“Look at her now. Her freaking eyes are all black. She’s doing drugs, I’m telling you.”
The whispers were driving her nuts.
She felt herself sway.
“Oh shit, Ophelia has got some side boob. Thank you, Jesus, for the side boob.”
She looked down at her tank top and readjusted it. She looked at the boy next to her and scowled. He raised an eyebrow and smirked.
“Oh my God, she looks like she’s gonna puke. God, if she does, I hope she turns away from me. Sweet God, don’t barf near me. Please turn the other way.”
She frowned at him again. His voice rang in her head but his lips didn’t move.
“She is gonna puke. I think she took too much. Typical emo slut. They always eff up and take too much.”
She looked up at the girls in the far corner. Their hands covered their mouths as they whispered. They were twelve desks away from her. How was she hearing them? Or the boy next to her? How were the people next to the mean girls not hearing them? Everyone had their eyes on their tests, except the mean girls and the boy next to her.
“Shhhh. Eyes on your tests.” Mr. Paulson spoke from his desk but still never lifted his eyes. He tended to repeat himself, whether they spoke or not.
"She is such an emo dork. I heard Abbey had to stop her from cutting herself the other day. She was all trying to commit suicide with those other emo sluts. I heard she likes Jake. What a loser."
"Abbey must be so ashamed."
It was a lie. She never cut herself.
Anger filled her in a sudden fit of rage. She stood up, screaming at the girls in the corner, “STOP!”
The anger and energy rushed from her.
Sound burst into the classroom like a shot from a gun. Papers and debris filled the classroom as huge gusts of wind blew in the suddenly-open windows.
Her desk sat perfectly neat, just as it had when she stood. Everything else in the classroom was spread across the room. Mr. Paulson’s glasses sat askew on his face. His hair was blown back. The kid in front of her had no shirt on, except around his wrists.
Everyone looked at her like she was a freak. Cruel words began to fill her head in hushed tones, “Freak, druggie, possessed, psycho.”
She put her burning fingers up to her face and clawed at her head, “Shut up. Shut up. Just shut up.” she chanted. She looked at the jagged glass of the windows. There was no glass except around the edges. It looked as if the windows had been smashed.
Light filtered into the room from the windows. She saw something move in her peripheral.
The frightened faces of the other kids were nothing, compared to the black shadows she suddenly noticed. They whispered seductively as they crept along the floor. They slithered snakelike, trying to reach out for her.
She ran from the class. The only sound in the hallway was her feet, as they pounded away from it all. She hadn’t been feeling right since playing with the Ouija board.
She ran until she reached home. With her back against the front door and the locks all turned, she slumped onto the floor and started to cry. She could never go back to the school again. She was a freak. She was for sure that weird Emily Rose movie.
She went to her hiding place, where she sat and read. She pretended everything was the same as it had been before the stupid party.
xxxx
“O? Ophelia, you here?”
She felt ashamed as Abbey crept into her hiding place. Her beautiful face looked worried. She sat on her knees and reached her hands out to Ophelia’s.
Ophelia looked at her over top of the book, “I hate you.”
Abbey smiled, “I heard it was just like the sleepover, except you blew Phillip McNeill’s shirt right off his body.”
O watched her younger sister smirk. She couldn’t smirk back, “That Ouija board haunted me, dude. I haven't been the same since that fucking sleepover. I hate your friends. They did something bad to me.”
Abbey put her hands up, “Hey you got mad skills, dude. Mr. Paulson is off for the rest of this year and probably next. The whole class is in love with you.”
O shook her head, “No, they think I’m a sweaty crackhead. I’m starting to agree with them. I don’t even know what happened; the voices just got bad and then the windows broke and I screamed. I think someone slipped me something. Probably those bitch friends of yours Ripley and Lacey.”
"Those sluts are not my friends. They're acquaintances. They never have anything nice to say. No one listens to them, O."
"They said I cut myself. Like you told people I was cutting myself?"
She shook her blonde head, "No, dude I never said that. Come on. You know those whores make shit up about everyone."
Ophelia put her face in her hands, "Yeah, but they don’t have to make this one up. I destroyed the classroom. I'm going to die like Emily Rose."
Abbey laughed nervously—it was her thing, “I would have died to see it, O. You’re like magic or shit. I’m jealous. Nothing happens in this stupid town. You're not going to die; maybe you'll be like Carrie at prom next week. You can kill Ripley and Lacey and the other nasty bitches.”
Ophelia cried into her palms with her book on her knees, “I wish I was like you.”
Abbey hugged her tight, “Ditto, sis.”
Ophelia laughed a wet, snotty, ugly-face cry into her sister’s shoulder. Ditto was their thing. They loved the movie Ghost.
“I’m going to Lance’s tomorrow night and I am dead-assed certain Jake is going to ask you.”
She pushed her younger sister back, “Don’t be a dick. I already feel like death. I’m staying home and cutting myself for real and listening to sad eighties music.”
Abbey shoved her back, “Weirdo, you should come. It’ll be fun. Lance told me to ask you.”
Ophelia shook her head, “No way. Hanging with the angst twins and doing suicide pacts sounds like way more fun.”
Abbey rolled her eyes, “Stop joking, mom is going to think you’re serious, and you’ll end up in an institution like Aunty Marie, who still swears she can’t see you.” She snickered
and left the room.
Ophelia curled back into her reading ball and continued with her book.
She ignored the garage door opening later, as the sun started to go down. She blocked out the voices in the house. Her workaholic parents would pop their heads in, but she would keep her face in her book and pretend everything was normal. She hoped.
“Uhh Ophelia, is there something you want to tell us?”
She cringed inside of the closet.
Her dad opened the door, looking stressed. Her mom already had her hands on her hips.
Ophelia shook her head.
“Honey, the school called and said there was an incident. You broke all the windows in a classroom and threw papers everywhere?”
She shook her head, “I never—I swear. Ask anyone I never moved a muscle. I just yelled and everything went crazy.”
Her dad raised an eyebrow, “O.”
“Dad, I swear.”
Her mom put her hands over her eyes, “Ophelia, we have a meeting with the principal tomorrow. Prom is in a week and grad in two weeks. You couldn’t wait to smash windows till you were graduated?”
Her dad left and her mom dropped to her knees in the closet, “Baby, if you’re sad or feeling bad about something, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
She nodded, “I swear I didn’t do it, Mom.”
Her mom nodded, “Okay, baby. I believe you.”
It didn’t feel like she believed her; it felt like she didn’t want to deal with it.
Chapter Two
Sam
He paced around the room, wondering when she would come home. It had been a bad idea to let her go. He had been giving her space. He hated space.
Roland entered the room silently, as always.
He cleared his throat, “Tea?”
Sam nodded, “Thank you, Roland.” He took the tiny, bone-china cup and drank. He felt a twinge at the taste; his mother had made him drink it before too. It apparently helped calm the nerves but nothing would dull the pain he was in.
