Enchant (The Enchanted Book 1)

by Micalea Smeltzer

  Enchant

  Micalea Smeltzer

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Pre-Order Information

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2017 Micalea Smeltzer

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design and Photography by Regina Wamba of Mae I Design

  Cover Models Michael Senich and Jenna Mahr

  Formatted and Edited by Wendi Temporado of Ready, Set, Edit

  Mara Pryce never imagined that her life was anything but normal and then a strange gray-eyed young man appears at her graduation. When he vanishes without a trace, she’s convinced he’s a figment of her imagination. Then he appears again and shatters her whole world.

  Mara is an enchanter, part of an ancient line of Wiccan power, and a war is raging—one of good and evil—between the Enchanted and the Iniquitous.

  The Iniquitous want her dead and it’s Theodore’s job as her protector to keep her safe.

  When Mara and Theodore arrive at a safe house, where Mara will remain hidden while learning about her powers, they find that the real threat might be a little closer to home than they want to believe.

  Chapter 1

  I RAN DOWN A DARKENED HALL.

  Shaking and cold, I kept running, something sinister pursuing me in the shadows.

  “Run, Mara, run!” a voice called out, panicked and begging.

  I looked back, searching for the voice, my heart breaking in two. All I saw behind me, though, were the darkened figures chasing me. So many.

  So. Freaking. Many.

  I burst through a door into the open air, the sudden brightness blinding my eyes.

  Something slammed into me from behind and I screamed, kicking out.

  “You’re mine.”

  I awoke with a start, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I struggled to get enough air into my aching lungs.

  “It’s just a dream, Mara,” I muttered, shoving my pale blonde hair out of my eyes.

  My words did nothing to slow the beating of my heart. I rubbed my arms, noticing they were clammy with sweat.

  My alarm began blaring from my nightstand, and I jumped. With a groan, I slapped my hand against the top, shutting it off.

  Today would be the last time I’d hear that obnoxious noise.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I braced myself before getting out of the bed. My feet barely had touched the floor when there was a soft knock.

  “Come in,” I called out, and hoped my dad didn’t catch the shakiness in my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was worry him. That’s why I never told him about my dreams. They didn’t come often, maybe once or twice a year, but when they did I couldn’t shake them for weeks. Dad already worried enough about me as it was. I think losing my mom made him cherish me all the more, so any time something small happened he reacted like he was going to lose me. Sometimes, I’d see him look at me like he was afraid I was going to disappear right in front of him.

  The door creaked open, and he appeared with a wide smile.

  His hair was receding, graying in places, and his face was lined from all his years of laughter, but I still thought he was handsome. I didn’t look anything like him, though. I had one lone picture of my mom and I was definitely her clone, from the leached of color blonde hair and pale skin to my wide doe eyes, freckles, and petite features. She looked like an angel to me—small but mighty.

  She died when I was a baby, murdered in some freak mugging incident, but somehow, I still missed her even though I never knew her.

  I guess maybe I missed the idea of her.

  “I made breakfast. Your favorite.”

  “Aw, thanks, Dad. You’re the best.” I hugged him, his slightly pudgy middle getting in the way.

  “Do you want to eat together, or I can bring yours up here so you can get ready?”

  I looked at the time and sighed. “I should get ready.”

  He smiled. “No problem. I’ll be back.”

  He ducked out the door, closing it behind him.

  I had my clothes sitting out on the chair along with my cap and gown.

  It didn’t feel real that I was graduating high school. It’d all gone by in the blink of an eye. But while my classmates were excited for the next chapter in their life, I wasn’t. I felt like I was missing something, but I didn’t know what. I guess a lot of my feelings probably stemmed from not knowing what I wanted to do in college. I had no career goals in mind and that sucked.

  I forced the negative thoughts from my mind and stepped into the attached bathroom. It was small with cracked tile floors, but at least it was mine.

  I turned the shower on and grabbed my towel, throwing it over the rail before stepping out of my clothes and tossing them in the laundry basket. Beneath the spray, I wet my hair and lathered it with shampoo.

  Even though my body was there, doing such a menial task, my mind was a million miles away, back in a darkened hall running from some unseen monster.

  I wanted to think it was some sort of symbolism for my fears of graduating and moving on, but I knew that was wrong. I’d been having the dream since I was at least ten, and I definitely wasn’t worried about graduating then.

  I finished washing my hair and body and stepped out of the shower onto the fuzzy mat, wrapping the towel around me. The mirror was fogged up and I lifted my arm to wipe away the condensation. As I did, I noticed something. Squinting, I wiped away a bigger circle.

  A scream loud enough to wake the dead left my throat as I took in the cloaked figured behind me. I whipped around, ready to fight my assailant, but no one was there. My heart beat rapidly, and tears sprung to my eyes. My dad’s feet pounded up the steps and he burst into the bathroom, a glowing sword in his hands.

  He took me in—panicked and scared—and the vacant bathroom before quickly muttering something.

  The sword vanished.

  One minute it was there, and the next it was not.

  I blinked.

  Blinked again. It was still gone, but he wasn’t.

  What is happening? Am I losing my mind?

  That seemed to be the only plausible explanation.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  I shook my head. “N-No,” I stuttered. “I-I thought I saw someone.”

  “There’s no one there, Mara.”

  I clutched my head, squishing my eyes closed. “I-I know. B-But you had a s-sword. Where’d it g-go?”

  He looked at me like I was crazy. “Mara, I don’t have a sword. I don’t even own a gun. Are you sure you�
��re okay?”

  “Maybe I’m getting sick,” I muttered.

  That had to be it. Sick was better than crazy.

  “I think you should eat. You’re probably hungry,” he surmised. “I left your breakfast on the bed.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

  Something was happening to me. I didn’t know what, but it was something.

  The royal blue graduation gown stuck to my sweaty body and made me itch like crazy.

  Our graduation had to be held on the hottest day of summer thus far.

  I could see my classmates beginning to wilt in the heat. I wanted to fan myself, but I was sure Ms. Jones, the assistant principal, would cut off my arms if I attempted to. She was a stickler for manners, and I was certain she wouldn’t condone that.

  Matthew Pierson, who sat next to me, kept wiggling and trying to talk to Eddie Ralston on my other side.

  Ms. Jones shot daggers at Matthew while Mr. Taylor, our principal, droned on and on about our futures.

  He was making my future look bleaker and bleaker.

  At the moment, with this heat, it felt like an emergency room visit was in my immediate future.

  Sweat trickled down into my eye, stinging it.

  I’m on fire in more ways than one, I thought glumly.

  Wasn’t graduation supposed to be fun? This was anything but. Everybody was miserable and aching for it to be over.

  We’d all been waiting eagerly for thirteen years to get there, and now we wanted it to be over.

  Figures.

  As soon as my diploma was in my hand I was finding the nearest pool, lake, pond, river, sink—any water source would do—and drenching myself.

  “You have all worked hard to reach this day,” Mr. Taylor continued. “Thirteen years—”

  Matthew leaned across to me and snorted at Eddie. “It’ll be another thirteen years before this speech is over.”

  “You’ve got that right,” muttered Eddie.

  Close, but not quite. It was another thirteen minutes. By that point, there was a puddle under my seat composed of my salty sweat. My makeup had long ago melted off.

  Mr. Taylor smiled at us all, sweeping his arms in a grand gesture, and began to call out the names.

  At least the graduating class was small.

  Mr. Taylor soon made it to the Ps and I breathed a sigh of relief. Not much longer now. I could hear the shower calling my name.

  “Matthew Arnold Pierson,” he called. Matthew bound onto the stage, creating quite a show, much to the delight of the other football players.

  “Mara Hadley Pryce,” he said next.

  Me.

  I walked up to the stage, much more graciously than Matthew had, although I had to keep telling myself not to run. Mr. Taylor shook my hand, handed me my diploma, and said, “Congratulations, Mara.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled, wondering where the fireworks and strobe lights were, because this was seriously anticlimactic.

  But I wasn’t getting any of that.

  Nope.

  All I got was sweat, cheap polyester, and, “Congratulations, Mara.”

  My dad screamed my name from the stands and I spotted him easily, shaking my head in the process.

  I stepped off the stage where Ms. Jones moved my tassel over.

  As I was walking back to my seat, I noticed a guy leaning against the bleachers. I had never seen him before and this was a small town where everyone knew everyone.

  He was tall and lean with wavy dark hair and tan skin. Despite the summer heat, he wore a black t-shirt and black jeans. It looked like he had a few tattoos. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, he didn’t seem happy at all. And his bright, gray eyes were staring right at me. Through me. It was like he was eating me alive. His eyes narrowed when he caught me watching him.

  I blinked, and he was gone, but the shadows where he’d stood suddenly seemed a little darker.

  I looked around, searching for him.

  First the sword and now this? I was clearly losing my mind.

  It had to be a figment of my imagination, right?

  My eyes sought my dad in the crowd and that’s when I knew in my gut it hadn’t been my imagination. He was standing, stopped mid-clap, and looking at the empty space by the bleachers with a horror-stricken look on his face.

  I shook my head and all but fell into my chair when I reached it.

  What is going on?

  I pushed thoughts of the dark-haired boy from my mind. It wasn’t worth fretting over.

  Finally, the last name was called, and we were tossing our caps in the air. We stood in a collective burst of royal blue and sunshine yellow, cheering for the fact that we’d survived.

  “Mara!” my best friend, Dani, yelled a second before crashing into me.

  “Whoa,” I cried, steadying us before I fell into someone and started a human game of dominoes.

  “It’s over,” she sobbed, and I blanched at the fact that she was crying. “We’re all going our separate ways. What if we never see each other again? Please, tell me that won’t happen,” she begged, pulling on my gown to hold herself up while I prayed she wouldn’t rip it.

  “Dani,” I said, in a soothing voice like a parent would use with a child. “That’s not going to happen. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. I’m not going to throw all those years away. Besides, I’ve tried to get rid of you before. You’re not easily thwarted,” I joked.

  She smacked me on the arm and wiped her face free of tears.

  We were complete opposites when it came to looks. Where I was light, she was dark.

  Her raven hair was long and straight, hanging down her back like a curtain. She was tall and curvy with a butt and boobs I envied. Her skin was a chocolate color with a flawless complexion. She was one of those girls who never had to wear makeup.

  I had one thing she envied, though—the gap between my front teeth. I had no idea why she liked it so much, I always hated the space, but she claimed it was very vogue.

  Dani could have hung out with the popular crowd but, instead, she stuck by me. I had yet to figure out what was so great about me. I felt I was an overall boring and average person. I wasn’t big on the social scene or anything like that. Going to the mall was about all the fun I longed for.

  “Are you going to go to Jules’ party?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to,” I whined.

  “Pretty please?” she pouted. She had been pestering me all week to go to Jules’ graduation party. I wasn’t the party type, but Dani enjoyed them and always wanted me to go with her.

  “If I give in will you leave me alone?” I asked.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squealed and hugged me.

  “You owe me.” I laughed, her good mood rubbing off on me.

  “I know, but I’m too happy to care,” she cried clapping her hands.

  The parents were now making their way down to us from the bleachers. Many of them were fanning themselves with programs. I could feel my hair fuzzing around my head from the humidity.

  I saw my dad heading toward me, and Dani’s parents were behind him.

  “Congrats, kiddo.” Dad wrapped his arms around me.

  “Thanks.” I hugged him back tightly as if I was afraid he was going to melt away like the mysterious guy.

  “I wish your mom could be here to see this,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Me too,” I whispered back.

  There was so much I didn’t know about her, and I often wondered what kind of person she would’ve been had she lived. All I had of her was one picture and a mysterious box I wasn’t allowed to open until my twentieth birthday. It was all very Twilight Zone to me. I figured maybe she’d written me a letter imparting some wisdom to me of some sort or maybe a gift. I guess I’d find out in two years.

  “She’d be so proud of you, baby girl.” He kissed my forehead. “I know I am. I’m proud of you too, Dani,” he called over to my best friend.

  She laughed, a
mused. “Thanks, Mr. Pryce.”

  “How many times have I told you, Dani? Call me Steven,” he said. “Mr. Pryce makes me feel old.”

  “Dad, you could never be old,” I scolded.

  “See these gray hairs?” He plucked at his scalp. “This is proof that I’m old.” I shook my head at him. Changing the subject, he asked, “Where do you want to go for dinner?”

  Before I could answer him, Dani came over. “Uh … Mr. Pryce, I mean Steven, Mara and I are going to a party,” she said sweetly. “We could really use this time to get ready.”

  My dad sighed. “I get it. You don’t want to be seen with your old man. It’s okay, Mara.” He’d said it jokingly, but his shoulders sagged, and I knew him well enough to know that he was hurt.

  I glared at Dani and turned back to my dad. “I have plenty of time to eat and get ready. I don’t take five hours like some people.” I pointed over my shoulder at Dani.

  My dad instantly perked up.

  “Good, good.” He clapped his hands. “Shall we go?”

  “Yeah, just a second.” I turned to Dani. “Do you want to get ready at my house or do you want me to come over?”

  She eyed me up and down. “My house. You have no fashionable clothes. I’ll need to dress you.”

  “Great,” I said, with false enthusiasm. “And you’re not dressing me.”

  The last time Dani dressed me I nearly flashed a nipple. It was a traumatizing experience.

  She laughed and danced away calling, “Ta-ta,” over her shoulder in a sarcastic tone.

  “Come on, kiddo,” Dad said, slinging his arm around me. “Let’s get rid of this thing—” he tugged on my blue gown “—and get something to eat. I’m starving.” He patted his stomach.