Everwish: The Primati Witches Book One

by Amelia Oz

  Amanda said nothing, her gaze burning so effectively into my forehead that I rubbed the space between my eyes. Although my ankles and feet were numb, I shook my head.

  He drew a hand across his brow and his smile faded. A tattoo of twisting roses and vines encircled his thumb, the ink so vivid it appeared alive.

  "It's cool here in the mountain’s shadow and that water must be freezing. Wouldn't you rather come out and dry off?"

  "Nope. I'm-I'm-all-g-g-good-here.”

  "Suit yourself. What are your names? My name is Marcus."

  Amanda turned and pressed me further into the water. With wind-milling arms, I splashed backward until the water flowed around my knees. The current grew stronger, and I ground my feet into the rock-strewn bottom to keep my balance. Why was she doing this? It wasn't like the men couldn't jump in after us if they wanted to.

  With a huff of air, Amanda twisted back to Marcus.

  "Just go." There was a resonance to her voice that she rarely used. One of the men turned towards the forest before his companion stopped him. The back of my tongue suddenly tasted of sea salt. Was that a symptom of hypothermia?

  "Your ink is...interesting," he said, ignoring her order.

  I knew that he meant the small tattoo on the inside of Amanda's wrist. She'd gotten it with her parents to celebrate her own eighteenth birthday in April. The color was a gorgeous azure blue she'd said was made from rare beetles. The tattoo itself represented the element of water, matching her mother's.

  Marcus straightened. His face seemed more angular, his mouth and eyes hard.

  "My, my. Aren't you the brave little snack?” The corner of his lip curled. Amanda remained silent and his focus returned to me.

  "Come closer," he commanded. The taste of wood ash exploded across my tongue, making me splutter. It tasted of evening campfires and wildfire residue.

  "Stay," Amanda said harshly over her shoulder. The wood ash flavor instantly faded, mingled with the sudden briny taste of saltwater. Alarmed, I tried to touch my lips but my arms and legs refused to cooperate. I tried again to speak, yet my tongue felt too heavy, my lips disobedient. Marcus moved down the bank, giving him an unobstructed view of me. A tattooed thumb rose to rub his bottom lip. "Tell me your name."

  My lips parted to tell him to go to hell. I tried again and again, yet my mouth refused to shape words. My vocal cords failed. Thankfully, I could control my breathing and inhaled slow and deep. Stay calm, stay calm, think...

  "Hey! It looks like a party! Amanda, did you see Stella jump?" Silvan yelled as he jogged out of the woods. I struggled harder.

  Marcus' companions shifted and formed a semi-circle around their leader, but Silvan charged forward, oblivious. My eyes widened in warning, but Silvan had his sights on Amanda as he paused at the water's edge. Amanda crooked her finger and Silvan stepped towards her with a lopsided grin, wincing as ice water filled his sneakers. Within range, Amanda struck, pinching the skin over his flat stomach. He yelped and danced back in confusion, but she grabbed his wrist, pulling him close to her.

  "Ow! Why'd you do that? What'd I miss?" He rubbed his belly with a hurt frown. The men laughed and my vision went red.

  I growled in frustration, furious. No one assaulted Silvan but me. I willed myself to move and after a long moment my arms became unstuck from their rigid pose. Pushing past the lethargic sensation, I drew in another breath, feeling control return with each inhalation.

  "Damn it," I shouted, relieved that I had command over my voice again. The weighted sensation dissipated. A swift breeze kicked up, causing water to lap the shore.

  "Stella! What a beautiful name. And what unusual eyes you have, Stella," he mused aloud. His gaze roamed my bare arms and hands as he frowned in confusion. "What clan do you belong to?" he asked. Amanda cleared her throat.

  "It's so important to make sure people have the right permissions to avoid misunderstandings. Consequences can be so painful," she said in a steel-edged voice.

  Amanda had lost her mind. Was she worried about them having proper hunting permits now? Hadn't she noticed my paralyzed state? Marcus rotated his palm in a sharp gesture. The other three men moved to line the shoreline with military synchronization. One of them was missing a hand.

  Marcus grinned. "There would have to be witnesses—"

  A violent boom rent the air and the world pitched. The ground shook with a powerful vibration that echoed around the river. I shot forward just as Amanda splashed deeper into the water, pulling both Silvan and me to her with surprising strength. The strangers, however, all looked in the same direction—to a spot located deep in the woods to the right of our little clearing.

  It was eerie how they all stood at rapt attention. Like prairie dogs I'd seen at the zoo once. The tremendous blast still ricocheted. Hundreds of miles of nothing but sequoia and evergreen trees surrounded us, absorbing the sound. Marcus focused sharply on me as I struggled to pull from Amanda's grasping hands.

  "Who are you?" he spat.

  "No one," I whispered. I rubbed at my chest as a strange warmth buzzed at my center, tingling along my spine.

  "The Lion roars," one of the men said in a voice that clearly conveyed, Oh shit. I followed their line of vision to the solitary figure of a man at the edge of the forest.

  He was tall, with muscular shoulders and arms that narrowed into lean hips. Larger than the other men, he flexed his long fingers yet remained preternaturally still. Dark sable hair framed a face any artist would pay to paint, myself included. The perfect angles of his face framed eyes so dark they could be black. I trembled, my limbs shaking uncontrollably. A deep growl split the air, and Amanda dropped my arm abruptly, stepping away from me. So much for one-for-all.

  I was suddenly glad for the chilled water encasing my calves. My skin heated as I continued to stare at the newcomer. There was something familiar in the way he stood...Pain shot through my temple, and I gasped, touching my head. Between blinks, the stranger was across the clearing. The world tilted as he plucked me from the water and carried me to the dry bank. The sharp pain faded as quickly as it had arrived, enough that I noted the man who cradled me wore a soft grey t-shirt and dark jeans. Dumbly, I noticed the cotton darken as it wicked water from my drenched clothing and skin.

  When he brought us to a standstill, his face turned to mine—and any protest gathering in my throat died as I took him in. Inches apart, his tiger-like eyes were not black after all, but swirls of cognac brown and gold, framed by thick, sooty eyelashes. His nose was aquiline, and his lips had the most exquisitely shaped cupid's bow.

  Dear Lord. He was big, with muscles that resembled stone, hard and unyielding where my hands grasped his back and shoulder. Self-awareness flooded, and I released him to fold my arms awkwardly against my chest.

  The world went from silent to bursting with sound in a second. Amanda was speaking, and I heard Silvan protest the stranger picking me up, but neither of us paid them any notice. Emotion swirled beneath his beauty, a pained contradiction behind his eyes that only made his perfection more poignant.

  "Your lips...," he murmured. My brain stuttered and blanked. He was staring at my mouth. "...your lips are blue." Huh? His gaze, stormy and bottomless, swallowed mine.

  "Where do you think you’re going?" He hitched me higher in his arms as if I weighed nothing.

  "Hmm? Nowhere." My voice came out a croak and my cheeks warmed. His lips twitched before his gaze tore from mine to where Marcus and his friends were skulking from the clearing. Nearly to the edge of the trail that headed upland, all four froze in various poses of flight when the stranger directed his attention to them.

  "Did they touch you?" His gaze remained upon the other men. He seemed otherworldly in his physical beauty, making the heavy sense of brutality and power he exuded even more potent. Thick, shiny locks swept from his forehead, and I drifted closer to his jaw. He even smelled amazing. Like sandalwood, frankincense and mint mixed with something elusive.


  His face tilted towards mine and he raised an eyebrow. I swallowed hard. Oh.

  “N-no. No t-touching." He scanned my body, lingering over my collarbone, and bare arms. My cheeks burned, and his hands seared into me as hot as branding irons against my chilled flesh. I scowled and a corner of his lips curled slightly before his scrutiny shifted to Amanda and Silvan. Amanda stared at the ground; hands clasped tightly before her. Her meek silence was unsettling. The stranger gave a single nod and the men disappeared down the trailhead.

  "How far is it to your car?" Even his voice was mesmerizing. It was what I imagined whiskey would taste like. Dark and forbidden...Seriously pull it together idiot. I struggled half-heartedly and cleared my throat. He released my legs but kept one strong arm across my back as I slid to a standing position. He leaned forward, and I could have sworn something brushed the curve of my neck as my feet met the ground. I felt his deep inhalation near my skin and shivered when he exhaled, his breath warm across my skin. I stumbled and his arm returned, tightened.

  "Wow," I mumbled. The stranger arched a brow, and I flushed, looking down at my wet shoes in mortification.

  "Where is your vehicle?" he repeated in a harder tone, and Amanda's head whipped up.

  "Not far. We have to walk that way about two miles." She pointed down the mountain trail, directly opposite from the path Marcus and his friends had taken.

  Shaking his head, he contemplated me once more.

  "Farewell, petite etoile." The heat of his gaze caused my breath to shallow and my legs weaken. Stop looking at him. Stop looking at him. Oh gosh, stop looking at him. He blinked, and a shadow of a frown crossed his features. Why was he frowning?

  He glanced back at Amanda. "Can I trust you to get her home?" he asked, his tone frigid. Amanda nodded. Before I could take offence at his assumption that I needed a babysitter, he turned and strode back to the tree line where he'd come from. Silvan grabbed my shoulders. "Whoa, Stella! Your eyes!"

  "My eyes?" I rubbed them with the back of my hands. Shaking Silvan off, I walked to the trailhead and searched fruitlessly for movement within the evergreen fronds that grew around the great Sitka spruce trees and nurse logs. He'd vanished. Dense clusters of tree trunks stood with moss-covered branches amidst a lush carpet of sword ferns. No movement. No sound. Not even birdsong.

  "Your irises are like—shining. What's wrong with you?" Silvan asked next to me. I looked away and touched my eyelids, confused.

  "No offense, but you can be one of the meanest girls I know, Stella."

  "Stop with the sweet talk, already," I muttered.

  "I just meant that, if I tried to pick you up like that, I'd wish I were dead in three seconds," Silvan said in amazement. "You don't know that guy, do—"

  "We need to get out of here," Amanda interrupted in a shaky voice.

  "What the hell happened, Amanda? I couldn't move and you said the safe…” My eyes widened in shock when her hand slapped across my lips. The rage I felt must have shown in my eyes because she whipped her hand back.

  "Shh!" she pleaded. "Stella, everything has changed. I hope you’ll forgive me one day. No talking or freaking out until we're in the car, preferably with the locks engaged." I stared at her until Silvan groused about having to walk home in the dark if we didn’t get a move on.

  As we descended the mountain, my mind raced in furious cycles. Amanda’s stricken face when she’d said our sacred safe word, the lingering taste of ash that still coated my tongue, the stranger who felt like gravity and his burning eyes as he'd called me little star. Most of all, I wondered what Amanda needed forgiveness for.

  Chapter 2

  The Sword

  Alaric

  t had taken all of my formidable willpower to leave her. I prowled into the hotel, but then stomped back out, needing to walk the night-kissed streets and work off the frustration reverberating through my bones.

  The young woman I'd been tasked to protect at all costs haunted me. Her lovely face was heart shaped, with a delicate bone structure and a softness to her cheeks. Her eyes were extraordinary; large, cobalt blue and full of innocence. I'd felt a ripple of her aura under stress and gone charging to her side. One moment I was in New York, and the next I was standing in a forest. It was foolish, and I was not a fool.

  My cloaking ability helped to disguise my appearance and prevented humans from seeing me when I didn't wish it. I could even become shadow when necessary. Yet today I'd appeared as a human—in Oregon of all places. The Primati community would be burning up the channels, wondering why. In the forest, I'd assumed the visage of the young man I'd once been while still mortal. In the end, very few remained alive that would remember this face.

  Still, I'd been recognized by the sorcerer leading that group of young novices. My aura was too intense and distinctive to be anyone else. Especially when enraged. Not just reckless, I'd wanted them to see me as the lethal threat I was. Fortunately, I'd taken care of that loose end as soon as Stella had safely reached the carpark. Because she’d gone untouched, I'd simply threatened the young men with dismemberment, showing them the beast to make sure they heeded my warning. It had been a mistake.

  Rumors would fly. I was the Primati Enforcer, responsible for ensuring the laws were adhered to and that the Ancilla, or humans, were not interfered with against their will. I'd just drawn attention to the very place I wanted to keep secret.

  I punched the hood of a parked Audi in the darkened alley. My fist touched pavement before I pulled my arm out and repeated the action again and again. The alarm silenced when I jerked the wires from beneath the ignition. Disgusted and still furious, I watched as my bloody arm healed, the liquid drying and flaking to dust.

  Darkness rippled nearby, and I knew that one of my elite guard would take care of my indiscretion. They would have the automobile towed, a likely story created, and the driver recompensed. Even now they likely had the entire area locked down from pedestrians who might stray too close.

  "Grayson," I whispered.

  A nearby shadow coalesced into a middle-aged man in a dark suit. "Yes, sir."

  "Return to her house and keep watch over her tonight. Track any activity—I want to know everything."

  "Yes, sir."

  Satisfied that Grayson would do exactly as I ordered, I exited the alley and walked to the custom Ecosse Titanium motorcycle waiting for me on the street. I pulled away, blazing down the alley and onto the rain-darkened cobblestone lanes of Portland. The streets were quiet, and I kept my speed down out of respect for humans and their cameras, as well as the rain-slick roads. Not that a good spill would kill me.

  Nothing could.

  But an accident would be more work for my team, and I didn't feel like adding to the whispers. My reputation, bolstered by the occasional bloody beheading, had been enough to maintain the respect and allegiance required of my position for centuries. But how much longer? How long before Murad's weakness finally led to all our downfalls?

  At a traffic light I caught the sulfur of magick. An ordinary human would not have noticed, yet it irritated the back of my throat. A very sensitive human might detect something as off, yet they would not understand why. Stiffening, I glanced to my flank, but noted only an electric bus in the distance.

  Seconds ticked without a green light, and I realized it was magick that kept the light red. Control over the electrical was usually the gift of a sky or water witch. The SUV next to me made a right turn, and I spied the source of the trick.

  She appeared sixteen and wore a tank top emblazoned with a picture of the Ramones. A black crinoline skirt, ripped stockings, and combat boots completed her look. Her inky hair was pulled into two pigtails reminiscent of bicycle handles, and she stared at me with lips pulled back in a frozen grimace of fright, her heavily made up eyes wide.

  Grabbing the lion by its tail, are you? I made a move as if to get off the bike and she ran. Ran like hell was after her. And I would have been had I not had better things
to do.

  Damn Portland. Its eclectic weirdness was one of the reasons I'd selected this area to hide Samuel and his granddaughter Stella these past years. That and the perpetually wet weather repulsed the more dangerous creatures unknown to man. Only born water witches liked wet and damp, a fact they’d twisted through history to shield their most protective element so humans would think it their weakness.

  As the cycle purred along the quiet streets, an image of Stella's father came to mind, a slender poet with gentle manners. Lasho had been killed in a car crash in San Francisco with his wife, Vivian, just a day after Stella's birth. Stella was the last of her mother’s bloodline, a fragile human without anything special about her other than who she descended from. Except I'd seen flashes of silver in her eyes today, a hallmark of her ancestors that should not be possible.

  Stella would remain here during her lifetime, surrounded by the mercenary water witches I kept on retainer and where the rain and wet forests provided a natural repellant to all but my allies. I hoped the little witch at the stoplight, who with the power I'd felt was more likely a century old, belonged to the coven I paid to protect Stella. Too many teenagers resided in Portland; humans were unaware this overgrown population was simply due to the large number of powerful water witches and warlocks who disliked aging. As long as no human was harmed, their numbers violated no Council Law.

  The air grew cooler as I slipped past the lights of Portland and onto dark streets and highways I remembered when they’d been muddy trails. I reveled in the biting wind, my speed only decelerating as I approached the enormous house overlooking the Columbia River. Dark twists of trees stood sentry several hundred yards from the sprawling, two-story complex. I parked at the end of the long driveway and paused a moment to gather my power, careful to keep my aura tapped down.

  As expected, protection spells surrounded the property. They layered the land and trees, encircling the house in spherical patterns I would have admired if I hadn't also been aware they would be exceedingly unpleasant. Damn, this is going to hurt.