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Chasing Magic
Gena D. Lutz
Copyright © 2014 Gena D. Lutz
All rights reserved.
Published by Gena D. Lutz
Cover Design by:
No Sweat Graphics by Rachel A. Olson
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Editing by:
Kittie Kat Tales Editing by Kitten Jackson
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Acknowledgements
This book is dedicated first and foremost to my loving hubby, Joseph, and to my pain in the butt children. I love you guys so much.
I also want to thank everyone who ever said I was strong enough to accomplish my dreams. With each book I write, I’m one step closer to doing just that!
I would like to thank these lovely ladies: Rachel Sockwell, Rachel A. Olson, Crystal Rister, Kitten Jackson, and Mary Tibbits. In one fantastic way or another, these awesome gals have helped, encouraged, and have been there for me throughout writing this novella.
A very special thanks to my street team, Gena’s Prime Wolves! You ladies Rock!
Chapter One
Anika smiled as she sprinkled a pinch of dried nettle into a cast iron pot. Its contents boiled with a pop and a fizz, half-full of witch’s brew. For the past several hours, she’d been working on perfecting a complex mixture. The enchantment was textbook magic, the highest level of witchcraft taught within the confines of the coven.
She’d be performing her final spell that night, and if Anika impressed the High Priestess, she would be granted the freedom to use magic outside of the strict guidance and supervision of the coven. After spending her late teens and early twenties suppressing the urge to use her magic at will, she was anxious to succeed.
Anika glanced down and nudged the scaly, red tail that swished and whacked every few seconds against her ankle. “Cut it out, Faing. That hurts.”
Faing, Anika’s mischievous and defiant pet dragon, whipped his tail once more before he jumped over the salt circle that surrounded her work space. He padded across the warm stone floor while throwing a perturbed look over his shoulder. After he made eye contact, to make sure she saw how put-out he felt, he slunk away to hide behind a pile of wood that was stacked three feet tall next to the fireplace. When Faing was in Anika’s workshop, he chose a size appropriate for the space. The pocket dragon could change his size at will, so he could easily fit behind the small wood stack.
Anika rolled her eyes and laughed as she watched the dragon disappear. “Don’t act so wounded, Faing. I will spend time with you later, right after the final trials. I picked up some new marbles for you to play with…and they’re purple.”
Playing with the glass spheres was Faing’s favorite game, and purple, his favorite color. Such news would usually cheer up the cranky dragon, which was curling up to make a nest between the woodpile and hearth while basking in the heat of the fire, but a flame-filled belch was his only response.
“You’re an ungrateful lizard,” she mumbled.
Deciding to deal with her dragon’s attitude later, Anika pressed her eyebrows firmly together. Concentrating hard, she pulled out the wooden ladle she was using to stir the sensitive brew. It was carved from untreated wood, kept in its natural state, so it could be safely used in the preparation of magic. Pride warmed her insides as the concoction she’d slaved over for hours poured from the spoon and back into the pot with perfect consistency.
“Not too shabby, sister-witch.”
Tamra paused on the edge of Anika’s protection circle, the toe of her high-heeled shoe precariously close to breaching the salt barrier that kept stray magic from escaping. Once set loose, magic could wreak all sorts of havoc. This particular spell was capricious, capable of growing a tail on the ass of a sexy swimsuit model, or it could simply change the color of someone’s hair. Magic was unpredictable, as well as dangerous when handled carelessly, so Anika always made sure to set up precautions like the salt circle, which surrounded her.
Anika could already sense a hailstorm of emotions rolling off of Tamra. They manifested in telltale colors—red for hate, putrid green for jealousy, and a burnt orange that represented the utter sense of superiority Tamra felt over her. She hesitated a moment before addressing her sister-witch. It took a lot of patience to deal with someone who so openly despised her.
Anika remembered a time when she and Tamra had been the closest of friends. Their friendship had changed the moment she tested higher than Tamra in the arts of witchcraft. It also didn’t help their relationship, and was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, when Anika began spending a lot of time with her new boyfriend, Drake. He was a handsome and kind man that belonged to a band of fierce warriors, the Warden Brotherhood. Anika, not even aware of Tamra’s jealousy, had fallen head-over-heels at first sight. Tamra’s hate only grew with Anika’s good fortune in love.
“I’m busy, Tamra. Did you need something?”
Faing belched from the corner, and a streaming fireball sailed through the air, screeching by Tamra’s face. She raked the dragon with a seething look.
“Careful, pet. It would be easy for me to hex you into a pair of dragon-skin boots,” she spat between clenched teeth.
Not to be threatened, the dragon slithered out from behind the woodpile. Faing’s large, round, emerald eyes flashed red, and smoke began to unfurl in curly tendrils from his spike-tipped nose. He let out a warning growl.
Anika cringed at what could happen if she sat idly by and let those two stubborn mules go at it. It would be a monsoon of fire and brimstone. Not what she needed to deal with that, of all days.
She tapped the edge of the spoon against the rim before sliding the leather loop, connected to the end of the ladle’s handle, onto the side of the pot. Anika always handled magic with the utmost care. After seeing her spell properly set to simmer, she stepped in-between the two warring nincompoops. Anika narrowed her eyes on the dragon.
“You, I expect a little more common sense from,” she said, chastising Faing.
After sending Tamra one more scorching look, he plopped down on his haunches and crossed his scale-covered front legs across his chest. The red that matched his shiny scales faded from his irises.
Anika’s eyes swung to Tamra. “You never mentioned why you came to see me. You always avoid this side of the building like the plague.”
Well, not always, but certainly since Anika and Drake’s relationship became more serious. Anika still felt the sting over her crumbled and ruined friendship with her sister-witch, but Tamra acted as if it never existed. Jealousy was surely the ruination of many things, small and large.
Tamra scoffed at her words. “I brought you a gift, a little token of my deep and festering feelings over your accomplishments. Today represents everything you’ve been working so hard for all these years.”
The blonde witch reached inside her Chanel purse, which was most assuredly that season’s design. Tamra would never be caught dead accessorizing with anything less. She then pulled out a charm.
In an instant, Anika recognized the feel of h
er own magic spill off the charm. “What are you doing with that?” she demanded. Fear and dread crawled up her spine.
Tamra shrugged her shoulders and flashed a wicked grin. “I thought I’d make your final assignment a bit more challenging, since you’re so damn smart, the teacher’s pet, and all that brown-nosing crap. I figured you’d appreciate the sentiment.”
Anika stared at the amplifying charm dangling from Tamra’s hand. She must have stolen the potent charm from the storage cabinet in the corner. It was where she kept all her enchantments. The real question was, how did she get her hands on it? The cabinet was heavily warded. It would take one hell of a practitioner to break through.
Anika’s mind raced over the possible repercussions a single toss of Tamra’s hand could wreak. If that charm ended up in the witch’s brew behind her, complete and utter chaos would follow. She found a modicum of relief in knowing that her protection circle was strong, doubly reinforced because of her proclivity to triple-check and shield her spells. So if Tamra were to throw the charm into the brew, all of Anika’s hard work would be ruined, ensuring that she’d fail her final trial, but at least, the volatile magic would remain contained safely inside the circle of protection.
“You’re entitled to your opinion. Hate me if you must, or believe I’ve taken something from you. I can live with that. But please, take it out on me in some other way. Magic isn’t to be played with, and you know there’s always a price to pay for trifling with it.”
Tamra paced the edge of the circle, enjoying Anika’s discomfort.
“Save your miss know-it-all lecture and warnings and shove them up your ass.”
Tamra smiled and looked down. With the toe of her shoe, she shifted forward, smearing the border of salt and breaking the circle. After that, everything happened in slow motion.
Faing’s wings unfolded as he lifted into the air. Tamra flung the charm at the cast iron pot, her face a mask of hate and merriment. She looked crazed. Anika’s hand shot out, trying to block the course of the throw. Faing’s claws closed together as he roared out a stream of fire. The dragon’s claws gripped air, and his fire caught Tamra in the side, knocking her down.
Anika saw pain flash across Tamra’s eyes, and then realization. A witch’s Familiar was strictly forbidden from harming another, unless the life of its master was in danger, and Anika’s life had never been in jeopardy.
A loud explosion from behind her sent Anika shooting forward. She crashed against the far wall of her sanctum, sliding down to land flat on her butt on the floor. Light blue and white smoke billowed from the pot. It crawled like an octopus across the floor, shooting straight for the door. Panic set in as Anika helplessly watched the last curling tendril of magic disappear under the doorway.
Chapter Two
“I can’t believe you did that! Are you insane?”
Anika pushed up from the floor, noting that her workspace was in shambles. Faing soared overhead, roaring his rage with fire.
Laughter from the corner of the room hit Anika hard, the sound to her, like the cackle from an evil witch. Coincidentally, that was exactly what Tamra was flirting with becoming by setting loose such havoc. The thought was disheartening. No matter what the two had been through, she didn’t want Tamra to become one of the Dark Ones. There was no coming back from it. A witch or warlock could only taint his or her soul so many times with darkness before evil took the soul over absolutely.
Tamra swept a curtain of blonde hair behind her shoulder. Somehow, she’d made it through the explosion of magic with nary a scratch. Her eyes roamed over her handiwork.
“Look what your charm has wrought. How will you explain this to the High Priestess?” Her words slid from her lips like venomous honey. “Good luck passing your final trials now.”
Anger like Anika had never known boiled through her blood. The good witch in her scolded for patience. But the wicked side, the darkness within that was a part of every witch, pushed for her to retaliate. It would take more than a vengeful, jealous woman to turn that white witch dark. Anika tampered back a building firestorm that screamed to be released. With just a swirl of her finger, she could have easily turned Tamra into a donkey, or even better, a pile of rat shit. With magic, it always came down to intent, and Anika intended to never harm another. Not even if the bitch deserved it.
Faing let out another roar, reminding Anika of the trouble that had been unleashed. She turned her back to Tamra, while at the same time, waving a dismissive hand. The gesture lifted the trouble-making witch off the floor. Tamra was rendered motionless, speechless, with big, wide eyes filled with malice and hate. With her other hand, Anika waved at the door. It swung open, and then, after making sure she did so gently, she tossed Tamra out of the room. The door slammed shut behind her.
One mess cleaned up, and a huge one left to deal with. Anika tapped a short, rounded nail against the tip of her chin. She smiled wide, because she knew exactly what needed to be done. She walked over to the fallen shelves, where her spell books were strewn across the floor. She flinched at the desecration of her most coveted tomes. With a flourish of her hand, and at a few softly spoken words, “Back you go,” the shelf righted itself. Following suit, the books rose into the air and flew back into place.
* * *
Drake unsheathed his dagger. The warlock had sensed danger the moment he’d entered the witches’ compound. Pressure pounded against his temple in the beat of magic turned volatile. With careful steps, he charged up the stairs. At that time of night, only a few witches should be in the residence—one of them being the beautiful Anika, his woman. Drake tried forcing down the tingles of fear he felt for Anika and concentrated, instead, on the present. If there was a threat to his girlfriend, he would find it, and in short work, annihilate it.
A loud crash from above sent him sprinting forward. The moment his leather boots slammed down on the second landing of the staircase, a billow of blue and white smoke caught his eye. The smoke slithered toward him, coming from the third level, the vicinity of Anika’s chamber. His heart rocked hard against his chest. Find her! Protect her! his instincts roared.
He brought up his scarred hand, setting it on the railing; he squeezed hard enough to almost crack the wood. Holding still, while identifying the new threat, was excruciatingly hard for him to do. He ignored the pull from his body to move and stood his ground as the smoke neared. It slipped harmlessly between his legs and continued to slither down the stairs. He could taste the sulfuric taint of twisted magic on his tongue, coating his lungs, but it was not harmful to witches or warlocks. He picked apart that aspect immediately, as well as Anika’s magical influence all throughout the spell. It couldn’t be. She would never mix a spell of that nature and set it free.
The echoing sound of heels tapping against hardwood had his head snapping up. A blonde in a tight, blue dress and high heels came barreling down the stairs. Her face was pinched up in fury, and her eyes were alight with mischief. It was Tamra—not the person he wished to run into. Not then, not ever. That woman was a thorn in Anika’s side, and anybody who wished ill will towards her had him to deal with. Considering that Drake viewed any man who would strike out at a woman in any way, verbal or physical, as a pussy, it was always best for him to avoid Tamra. She had an irritating way about her that set his teeth on edge.
What the hell? Drake tried to jump to the side. Tamra hadn’t been looking where she was going, and the lethal minx slammed straight into him. He rocked back on his heels and tightened his grip on the banister, taking the brunt of the impact. Tamra’s hand landed against his chest. Immediately switching positions, she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“A heroic knight has valiantly saved me from breaking my neck. Let me thank him with a kiss.” She tilted her head up, batting her lashes seductively. Her arms banded around his waist even tighter, while she pressed her breasts against him. Her heart was pounding fast. His almost raced out of his chest…from anger.
Drake sneered with disgust; eve
ry inch of his skin crawled from her touch. The woman was truly a devious witch. “Remove yourself from me, or I’ll have no choice but to remove you myself.”
Tamra writhed against him in response. Her hands moved lower, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. Her fingertips rubbed against his lower back, just beneath the band. Drake growled in frustration, and having little choice, he wrapped his hands around her tiny wrists and yanked them away. Taking two steps down the stairs, he freed himself from her. She looked down at her wrists in shock. Faint red marks wrapped around each one, where he’d grabbed her, but they quickly faded away.
“You’ll regret manhandling me.”
“Woman, you test my patience.” Drake shook his head and jogged up the stairs past her. He’d wasted enough precious time on the likes of her.
“Enjoy your pretty witch while you still can. Soon, she’ll be too busy making amends with the coven to lie down and roll in the hay with you, lover boy.”
Drake hadn’t a clue what the crazed woman was rambling on about, but chances were, it wasn’t anything good. “Careful what you wish for, Tamra. I may not have it in me to harm you, but I have no adverse feelings about hexing you into a genie. If you harmed a hair on my lady’s head, consider yourself bottled up and made a human’s slave for eternity.”
Her hand fluttered to her neck. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Try me.” At that, Drake beat feet the rest of the way up the stairs, in search of Anika.
Chapter Three
Okay, this will either work, or I’m going to look like a complete idiot.
Anika placed a retractable broom length-wise on her lap. The retractable part was not standard issue for a witch’s broom, but she thought it looked interesting, so Drake had bought it for her.
