Sharon Karaa The Last Challenge (Northern Witches Series #1)

by Unknown

  Daniel’s hand came down on to my shoulder and I suddenly realised I had been about to stride over there. “It’s not real, Lauren. I think this is the re-enactment of Matthew’s sins. He’s being faced with his past deeds. We need to find him and not get caught up in the fantasy.”

  Natalia nodded in agreement, holding onto Selina for, I imagined, the same reason Daniel had held onto me.

  I turned away from the cause of so much misery to my family. It was the hardest thing I’d had to do since my parents had died and I’d had to throw earth on their coffins.

  Daniel pulled me forward, not trying to dodge the crowd. Amazingly, they parted around us and still none made contact. As we neared the front of the scaffolding, I saw Jane, Daniel’s ancestor, her hands tied in front of her and tears streaming down her face. I looked up at Daniel and saw the sadness and pain as he caught a glimpse of her. Next to her stood Alice, and on her left was Margaret Moffet. I looked down the row and noticed only ten of the fourteen were standing in line. Then I looked above them, on the podium, and saw the bag being placed over Matthew’s head. Two of the women were to his left, and two to his right, one of whom was Katherine, the young girl who’d let the cat out of the bag. I couldn’t tell who the others were as they had already had their features hidden by the cloth.

  “We have to stop this!” I said, tears forming in my eyes.

  Daniel dropped my hand and pulled Natalia to him. She grabbed the vials out of her pocket and handed them to him as though they were precious cargo and not the despicable spirits of three very evil men.

  With a remarkable lack of ceremony, Daniel ripped the lid from the first vial and a black vapour zipped out of it. Before us stood the spirit of Kincaid. His eyes, black as coal, turned on me and he smiled, taking a step forward. Before he had time to do anything else, however, he disappeared into thin air. The same thing happened when Daniel released Shevels, but Natalia managed to get in a quick right hook before Nicholson disappeared. She smiled with satisfaction and Selina patted her on the back in celebration.

  I looked back towards the scaffolding in time to see the noose tighten around Matthew’s neck.

  “No!” I screamed, running forward.

  We’d released them, why hadn’t this stopped now? I felt Daniel’s arm grab me around the waist and suddenly my feet were no longer on the ground as he swung me around.

  “Wait!” he gasped.

  At that point, the trap doors were released and I watched as the bodies of the five dropped, twitching and spinning. A scream tore from my throat and tears streamed down my face. I watched until the last body stopped twitching then another scream tore through me and I collapsed over Daniel’s arm, sinking to the ground. Daniel kneeled down in the mud beside me, pulling me into his chest. I couldn’t tear my eyes away until the corpses were cut down, landing heavily in the mud. I felt Selina’s hand on my arm then turned into Daniel’s chest, sobbing wretchedly.

  “Look!” cried Natalia.

  I turned back and saw the spirit of Matthew rise from his body and stand, looking about him in wonder and then down at his own corpse. He appeared undisturbed by the sight, then looked up and looked directly at me, smiling as he walked towards us.

  Daniel released me and I stood up as Matthew approached. He took me in his arms and I sobbed. I cried for my parents, for my new family, for every hurt I’d ever experienced in life. All the sadness and pain I’d buried deep inside poured out of me. Matthew just continued to hold me until there were no more tears to cry.

  As the last sob left my lips and my breathing returned to normal, Matthew pulled out of my arms and looked into my eyes.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Perhaps it should have been a longer goodbye. Perhaps there were things I should have thought of to say to him. But instead, I watched as he looked down peacefully into my eyes, and faded into nothing.

  Without a word, I turned and ran into Daniel’s arms, holding him tight and trying desperately to rid myself of the images swirling in my troubled brain. At this point, I could only hope it was a good outcome. And somehow, as I remembered the calm look in Matthew’s kind eyes, I was struck with the sudden belief that it was.

  The misted spirits around us faded along with Matthew, and I felt Selina rubbing my back.

  “It’s time to go home,” she whispered.

  The journey back happened in the blink of an eye; no tunnel, no chanting, no nothing. Perhaps it was because Matthew was no longer there to sustain the illusion. I felt rather bleak but was grateful to find myself back in my cosy kitchen, Beth and Megan sitting at the table, smiling.

  “We know,” they said in unison.

  “Where’s Agnes?” I asked. Beth stood and came over to give me a hug.

  “She wanted to stay and wait for you to come back, but she needed to be there at Matthew’s judgement. She somehow knew the moment you’d freed him. It was beautiful Lauren. Her eyes lit up with excitement.”

  I turned to Daniel. “Will I ever see her again?” I asked him.

  He touched my chin gently with his fingers. “Oh, I don’t think for one second we’ve seen the last of her.” He kissed me gently on the mouth.

  “Will you get me out of this fuckin contraption!” came a muffled shout from Selina’s sling, and Megan burst out laughing as she dipped her hand in and freed Geordie from his little prison.

  I looked around the room at my new family. The biggest bunch of odd balls a girl could ask for.

  And I had to admit, I was supremely grateful to have had three spirits challenge my life when it had brought them all too me.

  “Nat, you said brandy any time!” shouted Geordie. “Definitely time for a celebration, don’t ye think?”

  Natalia went to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle. “Fill your boots, if you can get the cap off!” she laughed.

  I wrapped my arms around Daniel’s middle and rested my head contentedly on his chest as his arms tightened around me.

  “There’s something I never asked you!” I suddenly remembered.

  “Oh, what’s that my love?”

  “What do you do for a living? If you’ve been looking after me for seven years… how do you earn money to sustain yourself?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” he asked, looking innocent.

  “No, so spit it out!”

  “I’m a gynaecologist!” he laughed.

  Bastard!

  Epilogue

  “You know that was really naughty of you, don’t you?” whispered Lilith.

  Satan chuckled. “I know! Serves them right for not reading the contract. It clearly states in paragraph nine hundred and seventhy three that if the last in line defeats the spirits, the curse ends.”

  “Yes, but they still have Abaddon. Why didn’t you barter for him?” Lilith climbed off the bed and stretched her naked form, firm breasts peaking upwards as she did so. Satan growled in lust.

  “Missing your lover?” he asked, arching an eyebrow seductively.

  “Oh darling, don’t tell me you were jealous?” she strutted around the bed and pulled her blood red satin dressing gown over her curves, tying it at the waist then looking up at him, smiling.

  “Not at all, my love, not at all.” He rubbed his bald spat as he contemplated. “Natalia is quite a hottie, don’t you think?”

  Lilith spun round, transforming into her demon form and accidently causing her gown to split open at the seams when it couldn’t accommodate her bulkier true self. She growled, bearing her sharp, pointy teeth.

  Satan chuckled again, his hands behind his head as he regarded her.

  “I wasn’t thinking for me, I was thinking for Abaddon. They’d make a good match.”

  Lilith transformed back into human form and looked down.

  “You owe me a new dressing gown!”

  The End

  (For now!)

  Read on for a sample of Book 2 in the Northern Witch Series : Familiar Problem

  Dear reader….

  Dear Rea
der,

  I thought I’d give you a little bit of the story behind this book. The witches and witch prickers are real! In 1649, fourteen women and one man were hung on the Town Moor in Newcastle for witchcraft. To honour them, I decided to weave Lauren’s story around theirs and give them a moment of glory. As I researched this event, I found myself wondering what their inpidual stories were, what had led to them even being accused in the first place and maybe, at some point, I will bring them back again and let them tell you.

  Lauren’s story is not just one of finding her true love, it’s about family. And family doesn’t have to be just those who are blood relatives. Often, we meet people we have a strange affinity with and they end up becoming a part of our family. Maybe we knew them in another life, who knows? I’ve personally had experiences where I’ve felt a strong sense of déjà vu when I’ve met someone, seemingly for the first time. If that’s ever happened to you, I’d love to hear about it. Please feel free to write to me and let me know your thoughts and feelings about this book or to share your experiences with me. I’d love to hear from you.

  Finally, I’d like to ask you to please review this book on Amazon. Book reviews can really make or break a book and reviews really help to spread the word. You can leave a review by visiting this link – Review The Last Challenge.

  If you enjoyed this book, why not try the second book in the series, A Familiar Problem. In the meantime, here’s a sample for you to try!

  Best wishes,

  Sharon x

  Prologue

  How did I end up as a familiar? Well, that’s a long story, but I’m going to tell it anyway so make yourself comfortable.

  The daughter of demons, I’d stood about as much chance of getting in to heaven as a one legged man had of winning an arse kicking contest. But let’s face it, who would want to? It was full of men in frocks and prissy old women, not my scene at all. All of the really interesting people went the other way. A bit like how humans go off to hotter climates for summer holidays. The heat, the booze, the debauchery. Much more appealing than Sunday School, in my humble opinion.

  I’d been a bitter disappointment to my parents, firstly because I wasn’t a boy and secondly because I had no ambition to become a ruler of Hell. I’d amount to nothing my mother had constantly told me. And I admit it, I wasn’t particularly ambitious. I was quite content making trouble where the opportunity presented itself. And that brings me to the main factor affecting my fate.

  I’d pissed Satan off so many times, he banished me. Not because I was too good, don’t get me wrong, but because I liked to cause havoc. You’d think that would make me a good demon but apparently I didn’t do it ‘at the right time and place’.

  I’d installed sprinklers in the Fiery Pits, which really wound his Evilness up (did you know that red people turn purple when their angry?) For my next trick, I turned all the succubae into lesbians. He wasn’t amused. Well… a little at first… but that soon changed when he realised he wasn’t invited to the party. The last straw, the thing that finally tipped Him over the edge, was making it snow. In Hell. This probably wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t smashed our Lord and Master in the face with a snowball. Satan does not have a sense of humour, let me tell you that now.

  Apparently… and to get the full effect you have to think deep, sexy baritone, very, very loud voice and disapproving tone here…

  “Hell runs like a well-oiled machine!”

  With an echo.

  I swear when he said that I almost wet my knickers and I’m not scared of anything. But who knew? I thought we were all about chaos and bedlam. Still, you live and learn. Or die and learn. Or get kicked out. I guess it could have been worse.

  That left me where exactly? On earth, that’s where, stripped of my powers and unable to interact with anyone or anything.

  Nothing I did worked. I could see and hear everything that went on but no one could see or hear me. That was fun for a while, eavesdropping on private conversations or watching people getting up to mischief; but it’s no fun unless you can actually go and tell someone what you’ve heard. Like the wife of the husband who’s busy diddling the maid, for example. But when you know everyone’s dirty little secrets and yet can’t do anything about it, it’s a bit like giving a starving man a cheeseburger but gluing his lips shut. Another of my favourite tricks, but I digress.

  I couldn’t manipulate energy; I couldn’t even physically move objects and that really pissed me off. I’d have made a great ghost…scaring the shit out of everyone would have been a hoot.

  I spent my days wondering aimlessly through the centuries, looking for interesting people to amuse me. The eighteenth century was bloody boring, let me tell you. Be grateful you weren’t born then. People were far too serious in those days; no one knew how to have fun. The nineteenth century was no better. By the turn of the twentieth century I was ready to rip my hair out. Although, claim to fame, I did bump into Hitler wearing heels and a frock. That was the only interesting thing to happen and the frock wasn’t that pretty.

  I tried ending it all, I really did. Jumping off cliffs didn’t work; I just floated gently down to the ground. Being weightless had its disadvantages. I decided to drown myself and walked into the ocean but that only works if you actually need to breathe, apparently. I’d even wrapped myself around a lightning rod in the middle of a thunder storm. My hair went curly but that was about it. I swore if I ever got back to Hell, I was going to kick Satan in the balls.

  I finally decided to walk in one direction until I fell off the edge of the earth into the abyss. That could work. I could end up back in Hell. Or I could wind up permanently dead. Either one had to be an improvement on my current situation.

  Imagine my surprise when I ended up back where I’d started. The earth was round, would you believe, and now I owed Columbus and Drake a box of tobacco. Still, the way things were going I probably wouldn’t see them again so I’d never have to cough up (figuratively and literally – they both smoked like chimneys.)

  My one consolation was that things were starting to look up. We were well in to the twentieth century by now and people were becoming a lot more interesting to be around. More sin borne of more free time, I suppose, idle hands and all that. Well, that and the growing popularity of alcohol. It seemed to turn normal people into animals. A couple of drinks and before you knew it, virgins were ripping off their knickers and blokes were punching the shit out of each other. And sometimes it was the other way around.

  Then came television and I am willing to bet my knickers that, next to alcohol, this was the single biggest invention to contribute to the degradation of mankind. Full of sex and violence and the more people watched it, the more they copied. I often wondered if Satan had had a hand in its invention.

  I developed a passion for a game they call football. I loved the way thirty thousand people all came together to yell abuse at a bunch of ninnies running around a field chasing a pig’s head. I went to so many games I learned the rules and now consider myself a bit of an expert on the subject. One day, I’ll explain the offside rule to you; no one seems to understand it, not even the referees. But not now, now there are more important things to tell you about.

  Fashion, another passion of mine, went mental round about now. No more long skirts and demure necklines, oh no. It was short skirts, long boots, leathers; I was in my element! I discovered that just by thinking about an item of clothing, I could change what I was wearing into whatever I wanted. Not that it mattered, I was the only one who could see my clothes, but it was fun, nonetheless. I loved playing dress up.

  I took a time out in a little city in the north of England called Newcastle upon Tyne. Amazing, really, how much shit people can get up to in such a small place, but it could have something to do with the number of pubs they have there; like I said, alcohol really stirs things up.

  It was while I was walking around the town centre, enjoying the rain and the grey skies, when I felt a strange pull towards a woman wh
o was waiting at a bus stop. A bus stop is somewhere you can jump on what they call a bus, a public transport vehicle that takes you from where you are to where you want to be. In fact in Newcastle, many locals amuse themselves by watching the tourists (people from Scotland) waiting for a bus, since they very rarely turn up. Scottish people can get very irate when this happens.

  Getting back to the story, the girl I saw at the bus stop (who surprisingly was a local who should have known better) was pretty, in a normal sort of way, with long brown hair, green eyes and full lips that I imagine most men would find attractive, or at least the ones that didn’t wear knickers. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a sexual attraction I felt for her, it was…I don't know, just a strange sort of magnetism.

  She couldn’t see me but I felt so drawn to her, I couldn’t leave. I was so intrigued, I decided to hang about and try and find out what it was about her that enthralled me so. I followed her on to the bus (wonders will never cease!) and when I still couldn’t fathom it out, I followed her home. And that was when my prayers were answered. Satan had finally heard me.

  She had a cat, see, and for the first time in centuries, a living creature could see me. All right, it was just a cat, but it was a start, right? And don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all fun. He obviously didn’t like me. Hissing and arching his back all the time; what’s that all about? If I could have, I would have given the little fucker a good kick up the arse. But having spent the better part of three thousand years with no company, having something to torment was a bit of a novelty.

  I decided to stick around and took up residence in her spare room. This was fine, most of the time, but she occasionally had a friend of hers to stay and I’d end of sharing. With someone who snored and thrashed about a lot in her sleep. Not conducive to a good night's rest, let me tell you. Not that I need to sleep, but I found closing my eyes and letting my mind drift away rather refreshing. I could see the appeal, I really could.