Witches (Runes series Book 6)

by Ednah Walters

I gathered my school stuff and Beau’s sweatshirt. With a quick glance at the cat I found her napping, or pretending to. She looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb her and hear another round of insults.

  I headed downstairs, deliberately walking instead of creating a portal. I liked the exercise. Dad and I used to jog together before he became ill. I would swim with the swim team during regular season and with a local club in the off-season, but since I got immersed in the supernatural world, I’d dropped everything. I needed other forms of exercise to stay in shape. Moving at hyper-speed burned calories like crazy and my appetite had shot up exponentially to match it, but it wasn’t something I did regularly. Maybe I should.

  Mom was in the kitchen finishing her breakfast when I got downstairs. Someone had cooked eggs. Probably Femi. Mom’s cooking sucked. Dad had done most of our cooking when I was growing up.

  “Is Dad up?” I asked.

  “No, honey. Do you want breakfast?” Mom asked.

  “No. I already ate at Torin’s.” I placed my backpack on the counter and took a stool. “I guess I’m not exactly sure what to do about the cat now. Should I put newspaper down for her to use and a bowl of water? I’m not even sure what food she eats. I was thinking of shopping for her after school.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. Don’t worry about her now,” Mom reassured me. She got up to put her plate away and pressed a kiss on my forehead. “Femi will take care of her.” She grabbed her bag. “Wish me luck. I don’t want to be late for my first day at work.”

  “Work?” She was dressed in her Boho skirt and top, jewelry around her neck and wrists, and a Gypsy-inspired hairpiece holding her pitch-black, straight hair down. As usual, she looked like a hippie. A drop-dead gorgeous hippie. “Aren’t you reaping today?”

  “Yes, in the Seattle area. My partner got me a job at a jewelry shop, so we don’t have to hang around doing nothing.”

  I frowned. “What partner?”

  “Some young man. Just like Torin and Andris are paired, I’m paired with a Valhalla Valkyrie.” She glanced at her watch, blew me a kiss, and added, “Love you, hun. Be careful. If you need me, portal to me.”

  I watched her hurry towards the den and scowled. Young man, huh? Of course young man meant he was a few centuries younger or he’d become Immortal at a much younger age. Mom might be over a millennium old, but she looked like someone in their late twenties or early thirties. Men were going to hit on her out there. Somehow I couldn’t imagine her with anyone but Dad. In fact, I didn’t know how I’d feel if she dated anyone after Dad died. My throat closed. I’d accepted that my father was dying. It was only a matter of when. Still, it wasn’t easy.

  Femi was checking Dad’s vitals when I entered the room. For a moment, I studied him. His color had improved since Mom came back. It had taken months for the Valkyrie Council to reinstate her status as an active reaper, but it was worth it. She would reap Dad and find him a place in Goddess Freya’s Hall. I hope. She wouldn’t have to date some faceless man while Dad was in Freya’s Hall because she’d see him whenever she escorted souls there.

  I dropped a kiss on Dad’s forehead and followed Femi out of the room. “How is he doing?”

  “Better now that Svana is home.” She glanced up the stairs, and I followed her gaze. The cat stood at the top of the steps watching us. “I’ll take care of your cat while you’re gone.”

  I nodded. “Thanks. I think she’s hungry.”

  She extended a hand toward the cat. “Come here, princess.”

  The cat gave her a disdainful look, turned, and walked back toward my room.

  “You need to give her a name, doll,” Femi said. “Start bonding with her.”

  “We’ve already bonded. Hey, Fur-ball, there’s bacon down here,” I called out.

  Beiskaldi.

  That must be her favorite insult.

  Femi laughed. “Fur-ball? That’s a terrible name. Try Bastet or Isis.”

  The cat reappeared at the top of the stairs and sat, looking regal. Ugly names, she said.

  “Isis sounds good,” I said and got a mean glare from the cat.

  Femi chuckled. “You might be right about bonding with her. Cats are ornery, but familiars tend to bond fast with their owners.”

  “This one bonds with whoever gives her bacon,” I said.

  “Is that so? Then she and I are going to be best buddies. I love bacon. Come on, pretty lady.”

  Femi knew a lot about magic. Without her help, I would not have sharpened my visions or discovered Torin’s father’s evil plot.

  “How do you know if you’ve bonded with your familiar?” I asked.

  Femi glanced at me and chuckled. “You’ll be in sync. She’ll know when you need her, know what you’re thinking before you speak. If you’re really lucky, she will communicate with you telepathically.”

  Yeah, lucky me. “Ok. Later, Femi. Bye, Isis.” She ignored me.

  Torin was already waiting in his garage. He watched me, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. I was wearing the leather jacket he’d bought for me in Florida and jeans. Nothing to go ga-ga over, but he had a way of telling me he liked what I was wearing without saying a word. I wanted him to look at me like that forever.

  He snapped my helmet on and swept my hair away from my nape. My breath caught, reminding me of the first time he ever did that. The effect on me was the same, which might explain why he loved doing it.

  “You look beautiful,” he added, pressing a kiss on my lips. They tingled. “That’s new. Tastes good.”

  “It’s flavorless,” I said.

  He tilted his head sideways. “Did you do magic this morning?”

  I’d practiced connecting with the source of my magic. “A little. Why?”

  “Nothing. What’s that?” He jerked his head to indicate the sweatshirt in my hand.

  “Beau Hardshaw’s sweatshirt.” I dropped it in one of the bike’s saddlebags while Torin stashed my backpack in the other.

  “Are you getting anymore visions from it?”

  “Nope. It’s all good. He has a bright future now.” I didn’t bring up his ‘nothing’ response to my question about magic until he was parking his bike at school. “Nothing? Really? You never say anything unless you mean it.”

  “You feel and taste different after you do magic,” he said.

  I frowned. “Different good or different bad?” He waved to two of his jock friends, then lifted my backpack and gripped my hand. I dug my feet in. “I’m not moving until you tell me.”

  “Does it matter?”

  He was procrastinating. Not a good thing. “Am I repulsive? Taste disgusting?”

  “Freckles, you could never— Ouch!”

  I’d elbowed him. It hadn’t hurt, the faker. “This is important and you’re screwing with me. Is it good or bad?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” He ran a finger down my nose and frowned. “After you perform magic, it’s like the energy inside you calls to me. You become my oxygen, something I must have. And when we touch, it only gets more intense. It’s very unsettling and…”

  I laughed and hugged him.

  “Quit that. It’s not funny. I hate being out of control.”

  That explained his weird intensity last night. “I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

  “No, you won’t.” He put his arm around my shoulders and pressed a kiss on my temple. “I could hurt you.”

  No, he couldn’t. But a Torin I could control opened new doors. I was still grinning when we entered the main hall.

  Students were everywhere. Prom courts seemed to be the topic. The junior prom was next week on Friday and the teachers would post the nominees the day before. The bigger event would be the senior prom several weeks away. I planned to attend both with Torin.

  After yesterday, I tried not to brush against people as we made our way across the main hall. Torin bumped fists with his friends and a few slapped his back. They tended to treat me like one of them, which was totally cool with me most of t
he time. But since the visions started, I didn’t want to be touched. And the way I clung to Torin’s arm, like some insecure girlfriend, left little room for me to high-five anyone or do fist bumps.

  My focus stayed on the people hurrying past us, hoping no one brushed against me. My premonitions were sporadic. I didn’t know how to open or close my mind to them yet. Maybe tapping into the source when I needed it and pushing it back might do the trick. Lavania hadn’t taught me that yet. She preferred to take things slow.

  We turned the corner and almost bumped into Justin Sinclair and Darren Rassman leaning against the wall chatting. Both were seniors and had played football with Torin. Last night flashed in my head. Ellie, Justin’s girlfriend, and Beau Hardshaw. Who would have thought?

  “Seen Hardshaw this morning?” Torin asked them.

  “Nah, but his fucked-up ride is outside,” Justin said and leered at me before focusing on a group of girls walking by.

  I never liked Justin. He was preppy, rich and entitled, and I found it repulsive the way his pale eyes ran over every girl that walked past, as though he was mentally undressing them. Ellie was better off with Beau, but loaded girls like her only dated loaded jerks like Justin.

  Ellie and Amber Griffin left the restroom across the hallway and paused to giggle. I hated girls who giggled. Justin and Darren must have been waiting for them.

  “Her hair looks hideous,” Ellie said, glancing over her shoulder at the restroom door.

  “Thank you. The bitch got what she deserved,” Amber said. Then she saw us and flashed a smile. “Hey, Raine, Torin.”

  I gave them a stiff smile, remembering Ellie’s camera make-out session with Beau. She walked into her boyfriend’s arms and continued to kiss him. What did she see in him?

  Amber took Darren’s arm and pulled it over her shoulder. She and Ellie might consider me one of them now because we dated jocks, but six months ago, they’d made fun of me when I’d been labeled a witch. Who were they tormenting in the restroom this time?

  “If you see Hardshaw, tell him to find me ASAP,” Torin said and bumped fists with Justin.

  As we walked away, a girl burst out of the restroom and brushed past us at a run. The vision that flashed in my head was brief, but it was enough to know the person behind her new hairstyle. Her hair was an ugly shade of pink.

  Ellie and Amber giggled.

  “She tries too hard,” Amber said.

  I frowned. “I thought McKenzie was your friend.”

  “Oh please,” Ellie said and rolled her eyes.

  “We tolerate her because her brother’s hot,” Amber said. McKenzie’s brother, Luke, was the captain of the baseball team. “But not as hot as you, hun,” she added, smiling at Darren. He lapped it up. Moron.

  I waited until we were a fair distance from the group before saying, “I can’t stand them.”

  Torin squeezed my shoulder. “I noticed.”

  “She did that to McKenzie.”

  Torin shot me a bewildered glance. “Who did what?”

  “Cheer-bitch Amber colored McKenzie’s hair. You should do something.”

  Torin’s eyebrows shot up. “Why me? I don’t even know who this McKenzie is or how her hair color is my problem.”

  I sighed. “Just find a girl with bright pink hair and say something nice to her.”

  He stopped. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. You are the charming one. Make up something. Compliment her hair. Tell her she looks pretty this morning.”

  Torin laughed. “You’re kidding.”

  I shook my head. “This incident will lead to another, then another, and finally she’ll slit her wrists.”

  “Because a bunch of girls mocked her hair? Is she pretty?”

  I punched his arm. “Does it matter? She’s sweet and nice, but her hair is an ugly shade of pink.” I grimaced. “But that’s beside the point. She’s been trying to fit in all her life and she thought Ellie and Amber were her friends. Now they did this. Please.”

  Torin groaned, but his expression said he’d do as I asked. He glanced at his watch. “If I used hyper-speed…”

  I kissed his cheek. “You’re the best.”

  “The things I do for you, Freckles,” he murmured. “You can return Beau’s stinky sweatshirt.”

  “Aw, come on.”

  He tossed it and it landed on some poor guy’s face. At least the guy was graceful enough not to take offense and gave it to me. Torin, on the other hand, was aggravating. He laughed when I glared at him.

  “I’ll take it to lost and found.” Just in case the guy he’d hit thought the smelly sweatshirt was mine.

  I felt a little bad about using Torin, but I knew how it felt to be in McKenzie’s shoes. To have your so-called ‘friends’ desert you while others looked at you like you were a freak was demoralizing. At least I’d had Eirik and Cora when the entire swim team had deserted me. McKenzie needed a confidence boost, and no one could deliver it like Torin.

  4. A Helping Hand

  I was running to catch up with Cora during lunch when I almost bumped into Beau and his entourage—Seth Renwick and Ryder Copeland. Seth was built like a viking: red hair, freckles everywhere, arms and legs like a tree. He was the serious one of the trio. Ryder was the opposite—skinny with curly dark hair, and a mouth that didn’t stop yapping. Both played varsity baseball with Beau.

  Beau didn’t act like he’d seen me in my pajamas. He flashed the lopsided grin that had lured many naïve girls to his rundown truck.

  “St. James said you found my shirt,” he said.

  “Yeah, but it’s in my locker.”

  “Damn.” He looked at his friends.

  “We gotta go, dude,” Ryder said and walked backwards. “They won’t wait forever.”

  Beau looked undecided for a second, and then said, “I’ll get it after school. Your last class is band, right?” He winked. “I’ve watched you walk past my class. I’ll find you.” He took off after his friends.

  By the time I entered the bathroom, Cora had already used the portal and disappeared. She was probably meeting Echo for lunch.

  Torin was waiting for me at his place with lunch by the time I got there. He only had five minutes because he was meeting a student. Once he left, I carried my food to our house and sat with Dad while I ate. I didn’t see Fur-ball.

  I headed back to school after lunch feeling a bit meh. I couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was sitting with Dad or only seeing Torin briefly. I was used to spending most of my free time with him.

  Hours later, I was on my way from the orchestra room when I heard, “You know the drill, Hardshaw. You don’t improve your grade, you get benched.”

  I stopped by the door and shamelessly eavesdropped.

  “Just one last chance, Mr. Gentry,” Beau said. “I have a big game in two weeks and there’ll be scouts from several colleges.”

  “This is the school policy, Hardshaw. If you’re failing a class, you can’t play sports. I’m sorry, but you should have enrolled in peer tutoring weeks ago.”

  No. I didn’t sneak into the boy’s locker room and kill my brain cells with the stench from Hardshaw senior’s tighty-whities only to have some teacher mess with my case. I peered into the room. Beau was picking up his things while Mr. Gentry scribbled on a piece of paper.

  I looked up and down the hallway. Students were hurrying home and half the hallway was already empty. I could disappear without anyone noticing. I lifted my oboe, waited until a group of girls walked past me and then engaged my invisibility and speed runes.

  I entered the classroom just as Beau started for the door and went to where the teacher sat. You will give him one more chance. Call him back and give him one more chance. Do it now.

  Mr. Gentry looked up just as Beau reached the door. “Hardshaw! Wait.” He pulled out a packet and slid it across his desk. “Turn this in by next Friday or no more baseball. We’ll have a test on Friday too. If you work through this packet, you should be able to pass. Otherwise I
will have to contact your coach.”

  Yes! I took a peek at the packet. They were reading The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Sweet. I’d read the book last year and could help him.

  “Find someone to help you with it or enroll in the peer tutoring program. There’s no shame in asking for help.” While Mr. Gentry expanded on the value in seeking help, I left the room.

  The hallway was almost empty. I got rid of the runes and pulled out my cell phone. Timing was crucial. I listened to Beau’s footsteps and when he was closer to the door, I put my cell phone to my ear.

  “That’s okay, Mom,” I said into the phone. “I know. I’ll find a student to tutor for the rest of the semester. I don’t know, Mom. Math or English lit.” Beau entered the hallway, but instead of walking past me, he stopped. I gave him a brief smile. “Fine, Mom. I’ll stop by Mr. Kent’s office and sign up for peer tutoring.” I closed my phone and smiled at Beau. “Mothers. They can be so pushy.” I made a face. “I’m heading to my locker if you want to get your sweatshirt.”

  Beau nodded and for a few minutes, we walked without talking. Students heading to after-school programs turned and stared at us. I wondered what they were thinking. Kayville High bad boy and the QB’s girlfriend together? Hmm, too cliché.

  “So where did you find my sweatshirt?” Beau asked.

  “I went to the boy’s locker room and grabbed it, just so I can give it back to you.” I gave him a toothy smile. “That’s probably what everyone’s thinking.”

  He smirked. “You can read minds?”

  “Yep, and faces. You were thinking it too.”

  “Nah,” he protested, but he couldn’t look me in the eye, confirming my theory.

  “Right. You think I haven’t noticed how girls find a reason to have you, the great Beau Hardshaw, notice them? It’s quite interesting to watch. It’s like a special mating ritual.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, now you’re shitting with me. They do that for your boyfriend.”

  “Only an idiot would think Torin could possibly be interested in them,” I said.

  This time he laughed. Several students looked at us before disappearing into a room.