Natural Witch (Magical Mayhem Book 1)

by K. F. Breene

  Fat chance. They’d tell me to lay off the drugs.

  “What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?” I asked as the fear started to rise.

  A sizzling sound filtered in from somewhere outside of the church, like an egg frying on hot asphalt. More shouts from the other room. My ears popped with a pressure change. The energy buzzing within the room was supercharged.

  A new force had sprung up. Outside somewhere, but aimed at the church. It occurred to me then that the intent of the potion was the opposite of the coven’s intent in brewing it.

  “I’m cracking up,” I muttered, unsure of how I knew these things, or if they were even true.

  One thing I did know: if I didn’t do something quickly, I’d lose myself to the magic that was taking possession of the others in the circle.

  Chapter Three

  “The intent is the opposite of what it should be,” I murmured to myself, my survival mode kicking in and my brain churning furiously. I was a problem solver. A data head. If I just let my brain toil on the problem for a moment, surely something would come up.

  Something had better come up!

  I eyed the colorful spectacle creeping across the floor toward my leg. The ladies at large insisted—yet again—that I was bound to them, but I ignored their voices and simultaneously blinking eyes. Instead, I thought over the details. The order in which the ingredients had gone into the cauldron and the group power that had melded them.

  That power was still charging the air. Added to that was whatever was happening outside.

  More shouts interrupted my thoughts from the main room. The women in the circle twitched. One jolted, her back bending at an odd angle. It didn’t break, but it looked like it would hurt someone up there in years. Yet her face was as placid as ever as she straightened up in a jerky sort of way.

  No doubt about it—the potion was changing them from the inside out.

  The colorful tendrils reached for me. Would they wrap around my legs and drag me toward the cauldron? How long before the coven shook off their paralysis and force-fed me?

  That’s not helping.

  “Think, Penny!” I berated myself while rubbing my temples.

  The sizzle from outside grew louder, competing with the murmurs and shouts of males in the main room. I yanked at my foot, lifting it. I pushed back with everything I had. Tried to step backward. An invisible wall kept me put. I shoved it out sideways—or I tried, anyway. Another wall kept me in my spot, only allowing me to move forward.

  “What is this?” I yelled at the room, losing any semblance of calm. My terror amping up the closer that colorful arm of death got to my feet. “Let me out!”

  Shivers slid over my skin and out through my fingers. A tearing feeling ripped through me, blistering. The air crackled and popped. Something burst within the cauldron, firing liquid out. It sprayed Beatrice in the face, but she didn’t even flinch. Her arm was still extended toward me, spoon waiting, perfectly still despite how long it had been in the air.

  A thought curled through my memory. The intent is the opposite of what it should be.

  The words seared my brain. A desperate plea from my subconscious, still active, though fear covered me like a stifling blanket.

  Undo the spell.

  Use the energy in the room to undo the spell. To reverse it.

  I ripped out the sheet of paper. My gaze flew over the instructions.

  “Buggity flapjack, give a dog a bone,” I muttered, falling into my habit of using nonsense and nursery rhymes to keep from swearing. My mother’s influence loomed, even now.

  Though for the first time ever, I would not be embarrassed or angry should she barge in and break up the party. For once, her interference to keep me safe would be entirely welcomed. Entirely welcomed.

  I dashed forward, feeling the invisible barriers directing me toward the potion. Trying to channel a ninja, I leapt over the reaching tendrils on the ground and ducked under others waving in the sky. I snatched the spoon from Beatrice and shoved her away. Strangely stiff, like rigor mortis had set in, she timbered backward. At the last moment, she staggered, catching herself, and crashed into the invisible barrier of the circle. At least I wasn’t the only one who was stuck.

  I skipped past the “drink” instruction and read the previous one, only to realize I needn’t have bothered. It was already stored in my brain, crystal clear. I didn’t have a photographic memory, or even an excellent one, but as I started to reverse what I’d had the ladies do earlier, I realized that from start to finish, and backward to boot, this spell was perfectly preserved in my noggin.

  “I’ll marvel at that later,” I muttered, switching sides of the cauldron and stirring. “But how in frick-frack Nickleback am I going to get the ingredients out?”

  Tears of frustration pricked my eyes. The colorful tendrils curled out of the sky, drifting toward me.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on the herbs floating in the gurgling, rolling water. Pulled on my knowledge of their properties. I completed the reversed next step, feeling something dark and evil glance off my hair. A loud thunk echoed from the outer chamber.

  Ignoring it all, I kept going. Kept working. A blast sounded from beyond the room that startled me out of my fugue. I snapped open my eyes. A wall of colorful texture had manifested in front of my face. Had dropped over my arms. I didn’t feel its touch, but there was no denying the throbbing blackness it had set off in my middle.

  Reversing the spell wasn’t working.

  “You have no power over me,” I yelled, stealing a line from my favorite children’s movie Labyrinth. I threw the spoon in defiance. Willing something to happen. Willing my attempt to make a difference, if only a small one.

  Another woman jolted. Followed by another. Their shoulders jerked and their heads twisted to the side.

  I spun around to face my former position in the circle, gritted my teeth, and prepared for a last-ditch effort. I didn’t know how to fight, but I did know how to crash through walls. My life’s clumsiness had provided good training, and an invisible wall couldn’t be too much different from a visible one.

  I sprinted forward, dodging an outstretched hand that more resembled a claw, and jumped over the colorful tendrils. I put my forearms in front of my face, led slightly by my hard elbows, and poured everything I had into my intention to bust through the barrier. Sometimes that had worked for me. If I thought of something hard enough, the impossible became reality.

  I pulled up the desire to get out from my toes. Felt it throb throughout my body. Used the energy of the room to add to my fervor.

  I hit the invisible wall. A bone-deep vibration rocked me to my core. White-hot pain shot up my spine, tearing me in half, but then my limbs slapped against the ground beyond the wall. I rolled to a stop as the pain dissipated.

  Another explosion went off in the other room. A surge of light flashed under the door, accompanied by a loud pop.

  No time to breathe out an incredulous sigh of relief. Within seconds, I was up again, darting for the far chamber. I didn’t know where else to go. The outer room sounded like a war zone.

  A slice of brown caught my eye to the left. I twisted my head to look, and my toe hit an uneven spot. I sprawled across the ground, still looking.

  Another door. Maybe it led outside.

  I was up and at the door in a moment, ripping it open. A tiny space filled with brooms and mops greeted me.

  “I really wished you things flew.”

  A glance over my shoulder told me the coven was finishing their transformation. Their bodies jerked and a feeling of decay crowded the air around them.

  My guts pinched. I knew I’d had something to do with that, that I might’ve even made it possible. It was a hard pill to swallow. But swallow it I would, or I’d be joining them soon enough.

  “The one time someone does what I say, and look what happens…” I muttered miserably as I darted into the closet and ripped the door closed behind me. I fumbled for a lock, my h
ands shaking. I couldn’t find anything, and my stupid flip phone didn’t have a light or glow to it. Great long-term thinking, keeping a flip phone just so my mother couldn’t use an app to keep track of me.

  Explosions, large and volatile, rumbled the floor. Shouts and yells followed. The coven hadn’t been kidding—it was a full-scale battle.

  Speaking of the coven…

  I tilted my head as women’s voices reached me. It sounded like a chorused chant, almost a drumbeat.

  I glanced down at the slice of light at the bottom of the closet door. The only thing separating me from danger was the hope that no one wanted to rummage through the closet.

  That wasn’t good enough.

  My brain churned as more explosions shook the foundation. Energy pounded through the air, even in my somewhat removed space. That potion was nothing compared to whatever was going on out there.

  I bit my lip, grasping for a solution to this problem. Nothing came to mind. I had nothing with which to brace or tie the door. Not from the inside.

  A door slammed somewhere in the building, making me jump. Either the enemy was inside, or the women had left.

  I really hoped for the latter, but prepared for the worst and scooted back until I hit the wall. I slid down and burrowed into the rank smell of mopping equipment, pulling buckets and broom handles in front of my body.

  A loud gunshot made me jolt.

  Were guns allowed at a witching convention? That seemed like cheating, somehow.

  A broom handle clattered against the metal bucket. I reached for it in fright, hoping no one had heard. A blast from the room outside shook my closet door and made my teeth chatter.

  Clearly, what little noise I was making wouldn’t be noticed.

  The invisible string started pulling on my ribs again. Another pressure change popped my ears. Something had happened out there, changing the landscape of the energy. It sucked at me, clawing and scraping along my bones.

  Screaming erupted. Was that sound the cauldron sliding across the stone floor?

  I burrowed a little deeper and squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on my breathing and thinking of being protected. Of locking myself in. Of safety. I used to do this exact thing when I was little: imagining that I was blocking the closet door to keep the monsters at bay. Only this time, the monsters and I had switched places. And the monsters were real.

  More blasts shook the closet door, but my deep breathing and intense focus were calming my quivering muscles. A shout and another gunshot ended the disturbance. Heavy silence fell over the room outside.

  Breathe, Penny. Just breathe. They won’t look for trouble in a broom closet.

  Heavy boots tramped across the floor.

  Just go away. Go away. Find trouble elsewhere.

  Footsteps drew closer, jogging now. The faint light under the door moved and shifted, something disturbing its flow.

  My stomach churned. I should’ve listened to my temperamental third eye. I wouldn’t be in this mess if I’d trusted it.

  A rumble from farther away vibrated through the floor. More fighting was going on. Yet the light disturbance lingered.

  What were they doing? It was nothing but a nondescript door. Why not just open the thing and be done with it? Or, better yet, move on!

  Keeping my breathing rhythmic so I didn’t panic and do something stupid (among many stupid decisions today), I straightened up slowly and wrapped my fingers around the nearest wooden handle. I would only have a fraction of a second, but maybe I could jab the attacker and run like the devil was chasing me. I’d be sure to zigzag in case my visitor was the one with the gun.

  My heartbeat rang in my ears, fast and heavy. Sweat dampened my face.

  Light flared from under the door. Oranges and yellows and reds.

  Fire!

  Why were they trying to burn me alive in a closet? Didn’t witch haters usually prefer something more ceremonious? Capture the witch, tie her to a large post, and then light the fire?

  I stuck out my free hand, feeling for heat. Looked at the crack of the door for smoke. I didn’t feel or smell anything. And yet…the dancing of the light, and the way it glowed, and…

  Fear tightened my chest. Pressure made breathing difficult.

  I needed to make a move. I needed to run. But how far would I get with someone right in front of the door?

  Without warning, that string started tugging on my ribs again right before the door was ripped open.

  A flash of white and the roar of fire made me flinch, but when I opened my eyes again, all I saw was a woman dressed in leather from head to toe, staring into the closet with hard, crazy eyes. A gun was strapped to her leg and a sword hilt stuck out from just behind her head. Her confidence could fill an entire room, squeezing everyone else out. It showed in every line of her body, and the subtle way she shifted as she stared down at me, surprise flitting across her very pretty features.

  “I will not join you!” I screeched, digging into my canvas purse. Not the greatest buffer against evil, but hey, I was desperate.

  “I’m the good guy.” She took a step back and wariness crossed her features. Her eyes darted to my fingers curled around the broom handle. “You dodged a zombie-sized bullet, by the way.”

  This couldn’t be a good guy. She was too…lethal.

  She paused, and the situation seemed to warrant some kind of response on my part, but the way she looked at me, intelligent and deadly, stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth and made my brain buzz. She was unlike anyone I had ever met, ever. Rules didn’t apply to her, I could tell. Laws were things to laugh at.

  Something struck me. Well, two things, actually. The first was the memory of what the coven had been discussing prior to the whole potion debacle. Something about a set of rules for the human world and a set for the magical world.

  Could this woman be one of the magical defenders they’d mentioned? Did she know the shifters and the scary creature named Vlad?

  I had so many questions, but when another explosion went off, they all rattled inside my head and flew away. I was still in a battle zone. I had to get clear. Somehow.

  “I thought this was a retreat!” I yelled, grasping for the words to explain how I’d gotten into this mess. “They were going to teach me about magic.”

  “They were going to teach you?” The woman laughed, her shift in position revealing a hovering ball of fire behind her. In another moment, it vanished.

  I was pretty sure my eyes rounded to the size of my gaping mouth. A potion was one thing, but this woman could do magic. Like…real magic!

  A zing of excitement ran through me, chasing my fear away.

  “They aren’t even in your league, sweet cheeks,” the woman said as she stalked toward the other door. If she was afraid of what lay beyond, or anything at all, she didn’t show it. “Stay alive and I’ll introduce you to someone who isn’t a moron. I gotta go now, though. I have to save a vampire from eternal death.”

  Vampire?

  But that wasn’t even the foremost question on my mind. I wanted to ask how she’d made that fire. Was it another recipe, or something she could just do from birth, like a superpower? But she’d stopped in front of the other door, hesitating, and I could only watch in anticipation.

  “Do you know what’s through here?” she asked me.

  “A big room. In the middle, there’s a giant, like, pit thing. Like a long pit from one side to the other.”

  “How many people?”

  “There were only a couple when I was in there. Then I came in here with—” The women from earlier littered the ground, clearly dead. I swallowed. “What happened to the coven?”

  “They came down with a case of the stupids.” The woman rolled her neck. “Here goes nothin’.”

  She kicked the door with a burst of intense power I’d never seen a woman wield. Or many men, actually. Wood cracked. The hinges broke. The doorjamb snapped away.

  A smile graced her face, and I was thrown for another loop. She was m
arching into battle, for grievous sake. Surely that would warrant a frown?

  A moment later, she was gone, and I was on my own again.

  Chapter Four

  Silence drenched my tiny closet. I continued to breathe evenly, keeping my cool. It wasn’t easy, because while the blasts and bangs had stopped, and the floor no longer shuddered with violence, I was hyperaware of the leftover carnage awaiting me. It would be spilled across the floors and possibly oozing down the walls.

  I grimaced at my imagination.

  Had the leather-clad woman made it? And what exactly was she fighting?

  I still didn’t know if she was really the good guy or not. The coven I’d been working with (until the whole thing had gone off the rails) had seemed pretty nice. None of them had toted swords and guns, either.

  And now they were…

  I rested my chin on my knees and kept myself from thinking the word. A great travesty had happened here today. One that I’d helped cause in my ignorance.

  I shouldn’t have read that sheet of paper. Or even entered the church in the first place.

  The light peeking under the door flickered again. Voices drifted through the closet door.

  I grabbed the handle of the broom.

  The lights flickered again and a woman’s voice drifted under the door. It sounded like she was telling someone to do something, but I couldn’t make out what.

  Did they know I was here?

  The seconds ticked by, turning into stretched-out minutes, each seeming to last longer than the previous. A rumble vibrated through the ground. Muffled shouts and one roar, all distant, made me grit my teeth. And still the presence lingered outside the closet.

  Maybe they were waiting for the leather-clad woman to deal with me.

  I was no match for Leather Pants. She’d kick me around the room, laughing all the while. Which meant I should run. Right now.

  Before I could summon the courage to make a break for it, the light under the door flickered again, and another voice joined the two previous ones, muffled by the door.