A Witch to Live

by Glenn Bullion

  “Why now?” Kevin asked. “Why did you reach out to me now?”

  Martha grabbed a newspaper from the corner and dropped it on the table in front of him.

  Rachel gasped and grabbed his arm.

  Local Teens Mauled in Woods.

  It was the news article about Donna and Paul's death.

  “This wasn't an animal,” Martha said. “I think you have a werewolf on your hands.”

  “What? A werewolf?”

  She nodded. “Witches aren't alone, Kevin. I told you this.”

  “And what exactly do you expect me to do with this werewolf?”

  “Whatever is necessary.”

  “You can't deal with it?”

  “I'm sixty years old. You're a young full-blood. You won't have any problem with a werewolf. I've given you the tools you need. Your mind's open now. Recipes and spells will just come to you. Just trust your instincts.”

  “I don't know anything about werewolves. I barely know about me.”

  “Werewolves are just like you'd expect. Big, mean, strong. They're people who can change into a wolf whenever they want. But the one in Walton, I don't think he had a master. He killed during a full moon. The werewolves without masters think they only change during a full moon. It's a mental thing.”

  “So you want me to kill it?”

  Martha said nothing.

  “Kevin isn't hunting a werewolf,” Rachel said. “I'm sorry, but I'm not letting him do that.”

  She tapped the paper. “Those two kids, that could have been anybody. That could have been you, Rachel. There's another two days to the next full moon. He, or she, will kill again.”

  “We'll call the police,” Rachel said. “Tell them what's going on.”

  Martha laughed. She didn't bother to explain why that was a bad idea. “You're joking, right?”

  “Look, Martha, seriously,” Kevin said. “A week ago, I wrote papers for other students to make money. I sleep on the couch. I don't even have a car. I'm not sure I'm the best guy for this.”

  “You don't have a choice. It's who you are. You're a witch.” She smiled. “And I know you. You're a good person. You risked an awful lot to save Rachel's parents. You won't let anyone else get hurt.”

  “I'm not sure I can do it. What am I gonna do? Draw on it with a magic marker?”

  She shook her head. “When you get some confidence in yourself, you might be the greatest of us all.”

  Rachel stood up. “Kevin, I think I want to go home.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Kevin took his book from the dining room table. Martha walked them to the door, not bothered by their quick leave. She grabbed Rachel by the shoulder as they left the house.

  “One second, Rachel.”

  Kevin waited in the middle of the sidewalk, but Martha smiled at him and waved him along.

  “This is girl stuff,” she said.

  “It's okay, Kevin. I'm fine.”

  He left them alone and climbed into the Mustang.

  “You found yourself a good young man,” Martha said.

  “I know. That's why I don't want him chasing a werewolf.”

  “He'll be fine, because he has you. Being the significant other of any supernatural being can be rough. Do you think you're up for it?”

  “You're not gonna scare me away, if that's what you're trying to do.”

  “Not at all. I can see how you two feel about each other. It's nice. Reminds me of his parents. But I'm just trying to help you. There are times you'll have to stand behind him, give him a gentle push. Sometimes you'll have to stand next to him. And there will be times you'll have to be as far away as possible.”

  Rachel didn't like the sound of that last one.

  “You take care of him,” Martha said.

  She nodded, and sensing the conversation was over, went to her Mustang.

  Kevin and Rachel didn't say a word to each other for nearly half the drive home. They were both lost in their own thoughts.

  He wasn't sure if the trip was a mistake or not.

  He ran his hands along the old witch journal. The thought of his biological parents reading the book, and adding to it, was fascinating.

  But they weren't his real parents. They died in a plane crash.

  Looking at his magical hands, he was both excited and terrified at what he could possibly do.

  He gave the book a more thorough look. The front half was all recipes. The back half was stories, written like diary entries. The history of his kind was locked away in the pages.

  His kind.

  “My boyfriend's a witch,” Rachel said, talking to herself. “The cutest, nicest, sweetest guy in school is a witch. He touches things, and magic happens. But I knew this last night, after he touched me. He has a magic spell-book, and the woman who trained his birth mom wants him to go kill a werewolf.”

  Kevin smiled. “You have to admit, it was kind of cool. Drawing a hole on a wall and walking through it, the whole portal thing. That's just cool.”

  Rachel laughed, reached into her purse, and pulled out her rock.

  “Don't forget this.”

  “Ah, yeah. The cell rock.”

  They laughed together.

  “Uh, what kind of magic did I do to you last night?” Kevin asked.

  She blushed, and was surprised at herself. She'd never had a boyfriend, but was already very comfortable with Kevin.

  “Girls can get turned on too, Kevin.”

  “They can? Wow. Well, you know witches are all about touch,” he said, and placed his hand on her thigh.

  “You're gonna make us crash.”

  It was dark when she parked outside his apartment. He grabbed his backpack, but didn't leave the car. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

  In two days, both their lives had completely changed.

  “Are you okay with all of this?” he asked. ”We can go back to just being friends if you want.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No. But I know this is all weird. I don't-”

  “You just want another kiss.”

  “No. Well, yeah. But that's not all-”

  She leaned across the seat and kissed him. Her hand was on his seat, and slipped. She squealed as she tumbled in his lap. She turned over and looked up at him, her head resting on his leg. Sticking her feet out the open window, she laughed at her own clumsiness.

  Rachel was awkward, geeky, and gorgeous, the most unique girl in school, and he wouldn't have her any other way.

  They relaxed for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the parking lot around them. He held her hand while running his free hand through her hair. She closed her eyes and smiled. Everything was perfect at that moment. His mind was completely on his girlfriend. He didn't care about being a witch.

  Or hunting a werewolf.

  “I'm supposed to go to a movie with my parents tomorrow. Call me at night?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Good,” she said, her mouth twisting into a smirk. “I'll have my rock with me.”

  Chapter 16

  Kevin leaned over the stove. Kristin had already left the apartment. Glancing at the time on the microwave, he had ten minutes before he had to start his Monday morning walk to school. He was normally late, and everyone expected it, but there was no need to test Mister Hawkins' patience more than he already had.

  He dumped the odd ingredients in the pot as he read his book on the counter. Milk, Ivory soap, a pinch of dirt, sugar.

  Oscar climbed on the counter and approached the pot, his nose twitching.

  “Oscar!” he said, diving for his cat. “That's the last thing you want to drink.”

  Oscar jumped down and sprinted from the kitchen. He trampled across his food bowl, spilling dry Purina across the floor.

  “Why did I get a cat again?”

  “Hey, Kevin.”

  The voice came from nowhere, barely above a whisper. He looked down the hall to Kristin's bedroom, then the living room.


  “Kevin? Are you there?”

  He smiled when he recognized the voice, and picked up the rock on the end table next to the couch.

  “Rachel?”

  “Yeah. Open the front door.”

  He smiled at what waited for him in the hall.

  Rachel stood there, a box of donuts in one hand, her rock in the other. She wore one of her loose long-sleeved shirts and blue shorts, looking beautiful. He couldn't remember a time she wore shorts to school.

  She tossed her rock in the air and shoved it in her purse.

  “I'm really liking that thing. You need a ride?”

  “You brought breakfast?”

  “Yeah.”

  He stepped aside to let her in, watching her lovely figure as he closed the door.

  No one had ever brought him breakfast before, or picked him up for school.

  He hugged her from behind as she set the donuts on the table. She laughed, leaning her head back on his shoulder.

  “I missed you, too,” she said, kissing his cheek.

  “You didn't have to bring me breakfast. Or pick me up for school.”

  “I know. But I wanted to.”

  He turned her around and gave her a deep kiss.

  She noticed the cat food on the kitchen floor.

  “What happened in here?”

  “Just our kitten making a mess. Hold on a sec.”

  He grabbed a broom from the hall closet and swept up. Oscar pounced and tried to grab the bristles. Kevin smiled and entertained his kitten for a moment.

  Rachel sat at the dining room table, nearly finished with a donut when she laughed uncontrollably.

  She watched as the witch played with his black cat with his broom.

  “What's so funny?” Kevin asked. Then the realization hit him. “I'll get you, my pretty. And your little dog, too.”

  Joining him in the kitchen, she playfully wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “You are the best looking witch I've ever met.”

  “You probably say that to all the witches.”

  She noticed the pot on the stove. “What are you making?”

  He gave her a smile and stirred the mixture in the pot with his finger. The white mixture glowed for a moment.

  “I hope you're not drinking that.”

  He laughed, and grabbed the final ingredient from next to his book.

  A feather.

  It glowed white as he dipped it in the pot. He pulled out a chair and sat down.

  “Sit on my lap.”

  She smiled and happily did so.

  “This is the kind of magic spell I like,” she said.

  He grabbed her hand, holding the feather between them.

  They started to lift in the air, chair and all.

  “Oh my God!” Rachel said, clinging to Kevin.

  He held her close and laughed. They nearly floated to the ceiling. He put his hand out to stop them, and they hovered five feet off the ground.

  “When Martha first told me I was a witch, I almost threw up,” Kevin said. “But I think I'm really starting to like it.”

  “I never kissed a guy while floating before.”

  “Me neither. You know, a girl.”

  She leaned in for a kiss.

  If it wasn't for it being Monday morning, she might have forced him to land and take their kiss to the couch.

  *****

  Rachel watched out for the other students in the parking lot as she found a spot. A football flew in front of her car, narrowly missing it.

  Kevin grabbed his backpack and smiled at the people walking by. This was a new experience for him, not being late to school.

  “Don't think I've ever got here in enough time to see other people.”

  He grabbed the door handle, but noticed Rachel sitting still behind the wheel, looking down at her knees.

  “Rachel?”

  She was quiet, trying to deal with questions that sat in the back of her mind since they first kissed Friday night.

  “How do you want to do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “This,” she said, gesturing to the two of them. “Do you want to walk in separately? I could wait here a few minutes.”

  He shook his head. “Or we could hold hands. I've seen it on TV.”

  Her face brightened. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn't we?”

  “Well, you know. I'm the nerdiest chick in school. I know this. I'm not stupid. And you've got every girl chasing you-”

  He leaned over and kissed her. He could sense people walking by, pointing with their mouths open, and he didn't care.

  He never cared what anyone in school thought of him. They were the same people who made fun of Kristin and him for being adopted. Their opinions mattered nothing to him.

  The only opinion that mattered belonged to the girl holding his face, kissing him back tenderly.

  “Feel better?” he asked, pulling back a few inches.

  She fanned her face. “A little hot, but yeah.”

  “Let's go. I want to be on time for a change.”

  He felt for her hand, which she took.

  She started to shake a little as they crossed the parking lot. It was a feeling she wasn't used to, actually having a boyfriend. It seemed everyone looked at them. The football players even interrupted their ball tossing to stop and gawk.

  Kevin paid them no mind, only smiling and waving.

  “People are looking at us.”

  “They're probably looking at your legs. You never wear shorts.”

  “God, don't remind me. I wore them for you.”

  “Well, thank you. Now I'll have something to look at in literature.”

  She playfully smacked him on the shoulder.

  They drew more attention as they navigated the halls. Some of the girls looked upset, maybe even jealous. The guys looked surprised and confused.

  “I feel so weird,” she said.

  “I'd feel weird too if I was dating a witch.”

  “That's not it.”

  “I never had a girlfriend either, Rachel. Don't worry about it.”

  Rachel fought with her confidence as the prettier girls in school eyed them up. She was conditioned from a young age that she wasn't cute enough. Everyone else had their spot in life, and hers certainly wasn't supposed to be with Kevin.

  He stopped near the door to their literature class and grabbed her shoulders.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I think I'm gonna be sick.”

  “I got some water in my backpack, if you need it.” He brushed hair away from her face for her. “You know I have a magic touch. You'd feel better in ten seconds.”

  She smiled, and her eyes grew wide as he gave her a quick kiss. She looked around, noticing the stares and gossip.

  “Let's go.” he said, squeezing her hand and pulling her into class.

  Students were still gathered around their desks. Some of them stopped their conversations to look at the new couple cross the back of the room. Even Mister Hawkins raised his head from his newspaper and lifted an eyebrow.

  Rachel sat in her normal seat. Kevin took the empty seat next to her. She crossed her legs and tried to shrink at her desk.

  She heard their whispers. Some of them didn't even bother to keep their voices down.

  “Are those two together?”

  “Why is he dating her?”

  “I was gonna ask him out.”

  “Is she wearing shorts?”

  Rachel shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do with her hands. She settled on grabbing her books from her backpack.

  “Rachel?” Kevin said.

  Her stomach was doing cartwheels. “I really am going to be sick.”

  She tried to stand up. He put a hand on her shoulder, and then reached in his backpack for a bottle of water, making sure to keep it hidden as it glowed.

  “Kevin? Did you just-”

  “Drink this.”

  She put the bottle to her lips, and memories f
rom first grade flooded back to her as the ice cold water touched her throat.

  Her stomach calmed down.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  The bell rang. He wanted to give her a kiss before moving back to his seat, but was afraid her head might explode if he did so.

  He leaned close to whisper. “Thanks for the shorts.”

  She gave him a bright, flirty smile. For a moment, Kevin saw the girl he'd spent the weekend with. The one who made the first move, kissing him in his kitchen and straddling him on the couch.

  He sympathized with her, and she was a very beautiful distraction from what he learned about himself, but there were other things he had to focus on.

  He looked at the empty desks that once belonged to Donna and Paul.

  *****

  Kevin sat alone in the school cafeteria, only vaguely aware of the conversations happening around him. People were talking, laughing, shouting, but he paid them no mind.

  He was reading his book.

  He was careful to keep his food and drink far away. The last thing he wanted to do was spill milk on his history.

  The book threatened to pull his mind off track. It was fascinating skimming through the recipes, even though they were disgusting. He could picture witches gathered around a cauldron several hundred years ago, mixing parts of animals and chanting.

  He found what he was looking for, but it wasn't a complete picture.

  He was searching for anything regarding werewolves.

  Judging from some of the journal entries, witches had fought werewolves before. The details were sketchy, but every story did have one common element.

  Silver.

  Slamming the book closed, he looked down at the table.

  What was he supposed to find silver?

  He felt foolish, knowing he was in way over his head. His thoughts were full of regret at leaving Martha's when he did. She probably had so much more to tell him.

  The truth was simple. He was not qualified to kill a werewolf. He probably wasn't even qualified to look one in the eye.

  What did a werewolf even look like?

  A pair of tan legs in front of him interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to see Melissa Johnson. She wore black shorts and a shirt that was a touch too short. It was amazing what she got away with.