Welcome to Witchhood (Sister Witches Book 1)

by Colleen Luddington

  “We so rarely have interesting news to share. And I had to explain why running over to help Mirabelle with a possible intruder turned into a all night affair.” Matthew winked at Mirabelle. Winked! Mirabelle nearly fell over. They had hardly said two words to each other since Halloween, and now he was blatantly flirting with her in front of his mother! The gall.

  “So, will this mystery man be coming by today to introduce himself?” Lucy pressed.

  “No, he is in Tennessee visiting his grandparents for the holiday.” Anona explained.

  “What a disappointment.” Lucy said.

  “Don’t worry; I haven’t even met him yet. Though after the last time, they have switched to daytime dates only. Anona doesn’t want me alone at night after the intruder.” Mirabelle half-lied. She was better equipped to handle Blondie now: she knew she was safe in the house. She also knew there was no need to drag the animals into the house; he had no plans to hurt them. Just a creepy fairy hanging around hoping to seduce a witch. It was probably just like college.

  “Look!” Michael called, pointing at the window. It was snowing, big, fat, wet flakes from out of nowhere.

  “Apparently, it’s winter.” Matthew commented. “It’ll be a long haul until April.” Mirabelle walked over to the window and peeked through towards the orchards. She saw a blur of white run through the trees then disappeared. It was too big to be a gnome, and much too feminine to be Blondie. It seemed like another creature had arrived. She could only hope it was a friendly one.

  “I don’t think I need to eat for the rest of the week.” Mirabelle admitted, unbuttoning her jeans once Lucy, Matthew, and Michael had left. She sprawled out on the couch next to Anona, pulling a few blankets over her. A fire built by Matthew roared nearby, keeping the room nice and toasty.

  “Maybe we’ll just sleep until December 1st.” Anona said, dreamily. “But, we do have enough leftovers to eat for three days. I almost forgot!” Anona jumped up. She pulled an extra pumpkin pie out of the refrigerator, and quickly ran outside with it. She was back in a moment.

  “For the gnomes?”

  “Of course. Excellent sense of smell, those gnomes. They would be very put-out if I forgot to share.” She giggled. Anona climbed back onto the couch, sneaking under the mountain of blankets.

  “Tell me there is no ritual we have to partake in tonight. I’m spent.” Mirabelle said over a yawn.

  “No, Thanksgiving has no witchy equivalent. We are free to sleep and sleep and sleep until our hearts’ desire.”

  “Thank the gods.”

  Mirabelle had moved to Pennsylvania hoping to escape the harsh winters on the shores of Lake Michigan. Her entire childhood was spent trekking to non-cancelled school in 2 feet of snow, hoping that maybe the temperature would drop below minus twenty so she could stay in bed. She had heard about mild winters, with snowstorms that rarely left more than a few inches on the ground, and even then, everything was cancelled.

  So far, winter in Pennsylvania was not living up to its reputation. It had snowed at least 5 days a week this December, and rarely less than 5 inches. The farm was slowly piling up with heavy snow, making simple trips to feed and check the animals an exhausting walk. Anona and Mirabelle spent most nights cuddled under blankets reading (or as Mirabelle called it, studying) in front of a roaring fire. They drank tea and hot chocolate, and ate hearty meals like sweet potato soup with crusty bread and pork tenderloin with roasted vegetables. Their stores were well packed for the winter. Mirabelle looked forward to a winter of delicious food she had (partially) helped grow.

  Anona and Sam were still dating. Once or twice a week Anona would drive to Sam’s farm, which was about thirty miles away, and spend the day with him. She had yet to bring him to meet Mirabelle, which was beginning to seem odd. Anona swore it was because she didn’t want Mirabelle to get attached to someone she might not end up with, but Mirabelle thought her sister was behaving very strangely about the whole thing. Mirabelle was eighteen years old, not five. She didn’t think Sam was going to be her new daddy.

  Anona was being very mysterious about the Winter Solstice rituals she had planned. A couple weeks before the holiday, she off-handedly mentioned needing to go to the city.

  “I need to pick up a few things in Philly.” Anona explained, picking up her keys.

  “Please let me come with you!” Mirabelle begged. Cabin fever was beginning to set in. They had been bound to the house and barn due to the snow. Mirabelle longed to even walk through the apple orchards, but the act of trudging through the ever-growing mounds of snow on her way were too intimidating, and exhausting.

  “No, no. It must be a surprise.” Anona pulled on her coat and whipped her scarf around her neck. “I am having lunch with Sam, then picking up those few things. I should be home around 3.” Anona blew a kiss, and was out the door.

  Now that the weather outside was, well, frightful, Hedgie lived inside. She still acted with her standoffish independence, but every once in a while, Mirabelle would tuck her feet up on the couch while reading a book, and Hedgie would sit beside the base of her feet. Today, Hedgie was slowly warming to Mirabelle, but had not yet stopped circling the room. Mirabelle had switched over to the herbology book for the day. She was taking a break from reading about the other realms to learn about herbs that might actually help her avoid traveling to them. Anona’s herbal knowledge was extensive, and if Mirabelle ever hoped to know as much as she did, it would take a lot of hours.

  By 2 pm, the never-ending snow had transformed into huge, fat flakes. Mirabelle opened up the laptop to check the forecast, but the internet was down. Worried, she pulled the TV out of the closet and plugged it in to the socket, but nothing except a gray fuzz appeared on the screen, along with a deafening static. The power still worked, but Mirabelle wondered how long it would last. She quickly ran outside and collected a few extra logs off the porch for the fireplace. If the heat did go out, she did not want to open the door and let even colder air in to get fuel for the fire. She did a quick overview of the contents of the fridge. She had stuff to make a deli sandwich, which wouldn’t need to be cooked in any way. Did gas stoves work with a power outage? Mirabelle had no idea. She supposed she would find out. She decided to make a cup of tea now, in case the stove did go out.

  Around 4, the landline rang. The power, and apparently the phone line, still worked.

  “Hello?” Mirabelle answered.

  “Hey, Mirie.” It was Anona. “This storm is terrible. I was waiting for it to let up a little to drive home, but it seems to just be getting worse. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, don’t drive home in it if it is too dangerous. You should stay with Sam.” Mirabelle said.

  “I don’t want to leave you home alone overnight…” She paused. “This isn’t supposed to let up anytime soon. Do you want to have Matthew pick you up and you can stay with their family for the night?” Anona suggested.

  “Absolutely not. I would rather not have an awkward evening with Matthew and his family while I decide whether we are flirting or ignoring each other.” Anona giggled.

  “Why don’t you bring the dogs in for the night then? I would feel better knowing they were with you.”

  “It’s pretty bad out; shall I bring the sheep and Elsie in as well?” Mirabelle teased.

  “No, thank you. They are quite warm with their coats. If you want, you can pull out the wool blankets on the shelf in the barn for them to snuggle down into. But, no barn animals in the house tonight.”

  “Gotcha. Have fun with Sam.”

  “I will. Be careful outside.” Anona warned.

  “Always am.” They hung up. The evening darkness was already approaching quickly. With the cloud cover, the brightest light of the day had been dim, so now a thick blackness was falling over the snowy farm. She needed to check on the animals one last time, and she decided that 6:00 would be the perfect time. She would get her dinner all ready with another hot cup of tea so she could walk in, have dinner, and then, hope
fully, take a long hot shower, before curling up with her herbology book until she fell asleep.

  Mirabelle was getting quickly bored with herbology. It was a memorization discipline, which she did not enjoy. The more she read, the less she could ever imagine herself really diving into the subject. Perhaps it was time to move onto crystals. They had to be just as powerful as herbs, right?

  Bright headlights shone into the windows as Mirabelle began to add layer upon layer of clothing for her animal check. The teakettle was warming towards a nice boil, her tea leaves prepared in their cup. She squinted out the door making out the outline of Matthew’s pickup truck. She smiled. Anona must have called and asked him to come get her after all. Mirabelle paused her dressing, and took off her coat. She unlocked the door and walked into her room to pack up a quick bag of pjs, toothbrush, and clothes for tomorrow. She heard a quiet knock.

  “Come in! It’s open!”

  It took only a moment for Mirabelle to realize what a mistake she’d made. Hedgie hissed and ran past her legs, straight beneath the bed. The door, open in the wind, allowed for her to hear the frantic barking of Selkie and Brownie, running towards the house. Mirabelle looked towards the door where Matthew did not stand.

  Blondie.

  She only had a moment to be frightened. A single moment to dart her eyes around, looking for something knitted by her mother. A moment to realize she was far away from the phone, the door, the kitchen knives. A moment to be fill with such terror she thought she might lose consciousness. And then, she was fine. Her feelings drained to numbness like a wash of wine over her brain.

  “Come here, my dear,” Blondie beckoned, his fingers curling against themselves. Mirabelle answered, floating towards him, her feet barely scraping the ground. In the distance, she could hear the dogs, the teakettle, but it all just faded into harmonious music that played around her. Violins and trumpets filled the air, and all was lost in his eyes.

  “We are going to marry.” Blondie stated, his hands wrapping around her waist. “You are going to come to Fae and be mine for all eternity.”

  “Yes, dear.” Mirabelle answered, unsure of what she agreed to. The air around her shone like a kaleidoscope with a thousand colors, shapes swirling into new patterns with every moment.

  “My Bride.” A deep, wicked smile spread across his face. His hands cupped her face, ice cold against her skin, and drew her mouth to his. His touch was so cold it burned her, but awakened something in her she did not recognize. She changed in that kiss, and she was overtaken.

  “GET OFF HER!” Someone yelled. Mirabelle saw only Blondie, the rest of the world was a pale white haze around him filled with the most lovely sights and sounds. He left her side, and hissed at the unwelcome guest. She tried to keep her eyes focused on him, but he changed. He was no longer Blondie, but a twelve-point buck tearing out of the house.

  “Mirie!” The voice called again. The music died, the colors all returned to normal. Mirabelle felt like someone had violently dropped her back into her body. She was freezing. She couldn’t feel her fingers or toes, even her arms began to feel numb. “Mirie! Wake up, oh shit, please, wake up!” Someone was wrapping his or her arms around her body. She tried to reciprocate, the warmth felt so good, but she couldn’t lift any part of her. What was happening?

  The warmth left her, and she whimpered in protest.

  “Give me a minute!” She heard something clattering near her, and then, a beautiful spark. Mirabelle could feel a fire nearby. She reached her face towards it, trying to absorb all its heat. The person came back, lifted her up, and brought her right next to the fire. She smiled, and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Matthew?”

  “Thank heavens, you’re awake.” He pulled blankets on top on them, blew on her hands and ears.

  “What happened?” She asked. Her memories were fading away from her; she tried to grasp at them, but all she remembered was Blondie in the doorway, and the teakettle whistling.

  “I don’t know exactly. Just try to get warm.” Mirabelle sighed, breathing into Matthew’s chest. He felt so right at that moment. His warmth inviting her to crawl up next to his bare skin and be overtaken by heat.

  “Sleep with me.” She mumbled.

  “Mirabelle, not right now.” He answered quickly. Matthew tried to stand up, but she grabbed on to him.

  “Please!” She wailed. It was imperative he sleep with her. She needed it so badly at that moment she thought she would die without it. She scratched at his shirt, somehow thinking if she managed to get it off him, he would be hers.

  “Mirie, no. You are sick; you don’t know what you are saying. You need to get warm.” He pulled away from her, taking all his heat and comfort with him. She yelled in frustration, kicking the blankets off of her.

  “Get back here!” She screamed. “Fuck me, you fucking asshole!” He didn’t come back. She tossed around, unable to stand but unsettled in stillness. She rolled from side to side, pushing the blankets off of her, hoping it would bring him back. Her mind was a fractured mess, her vision barely moving beyond blurry. Everything started to hurt and ache. Her skin was unbearable. She thought she would lose her mind.

  Suddenly, the lights came on. Anona’s furnace quietly hummed in the background. The laptop lit up, the current weather immediately loading.

  With the lights, Mirabelle’s haze was lifted.

  “What’s going on?!” She yelled, pulling the blankets back around her. She had scratches up her arms and her heels and knees hurt from banging against the floor. She slowly stood up, looking around the room. Matthew stood in the corner of the kitchen, eyeing her suspiciously.

  “What happened?” She asked again. She took a few steps towards Matthew.

  “Stay over there.” He said sternly. Mirabelle stopped in her tracks. “Just until we know for sure.”

  “Know what for sure?” Mirabelle was having vague recollections of harassing Matthew that she hoped were dreams. The landline rang loudly, breaking into their conversation.

  “Hello?”

  “Mirie! Oh, thank god. Are you all right? Did Matthew get to you in time?” Anona rambled.

  “I’m all right, I don’t really know what is going on. I think something may have happened, but I’m not sure what.” Mirabelle whispered.

  “Mirie, I told him. Matthew knows we are witches.” Anona confessed. “Dottie called my cell phone hysterical. She had a vision of you being attacked by a Fae. I couldn’t get to you so I called Matthew. I told him he might see something weird and that you might not be yourself after such a close encounter with a Fae.” Mirabelle felt her cheeks go red as memories flooded back. Blondie was there. He was touching her and she wasn’t fighting him off. He had messed with her mind so she didn’t fight. She was going to kill him.

  It got worse. She remembered screaming at Matthew to sleep with her. Oh god, how would she ever explain that? She looked down at her battered body. Blondie hadn’t done it; she had done it to herself.

  “Mirie?? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m just… some stuff is coming back to me.”

  “Did Blondie get into the house?” Anona drilled.

  “Yeah and I may have promised to marry him. I have to go. I need to apologize to Matthew. Come home as soon as you can.” Mirabelle hung up the phone before Anona could protest. She turned to Matthew.

  “I am going to sit over here on the couch and I promise I will not attack you.” He nodded. “I am so sorry for what I said to you.”

  “It wasn’t you.” Matthew rubbed his forehead. “So, you are a witch?”

  “Yup. I’m probably not the best person to be explaining all this to you due to the fact that I just found out in October.” Mirabelle ran her finger over a particularly deep cut on her forearm. “Could you throw me a wet dishcloth?” She wanted to clean out her cuts. She started to feel an intense attraction to Matthew building up again, but quieted it.

  “What was that thing that was here when I got here?” Matthew asked
running the cloth under the faucet.

  “An evil fairy as far as I can tell.” Mirabelle was mortified but she had to ask. “I don’t really remember everything. Can you tell me what he was doing to me?” Matthew set his jaw.

  “He was, I don’t even know how to describe it. He was kissing you, but like draining you. You were limp beneath him, I thought you might be dead.”

  “You could see him?” Mirabelle whispered. Anona had said that Matthew might be able to see the Fae, but not interact with them.

  “I saw him. I saw something killing you and then he spoke to me in a language I didn’t understand and morphed into some sort of buck. I don’t know how any of this happened, but it did.” Matthew pulled himself to sit on the counter. “Anona told me to throw salt at him, and he turned into a fucking deer.” Mirabelle had never heard Matthew swear before, but if there ever was the right moment to begin, this was it.

  “I didn’t think non-witches could see Fae.” Mirabelle admitted. “It must have been scary. He’s the person I saw when I brought the animals in. You saved me again.”

  “Why could I see him?” Matthew gazed hard at Mirabelle.

  “I don’t know. We will ask Anona when she gets back.” She could feel Matthew slipping away from her, into his own mind, somewhere he would drive himself mad. “What should we do?” Matthew shook his head. He opened the refrigerator and rummaged around until he found a half-empty bottle of wine in the back.

  “I need a drink.” He confessed. He drank straight from the bottle, not bothering with a glass, which surprised and intrigued Mirabelle. She stood up, letting the blanket fall to the ground. Suddenly, she felt that same overpowering need. She tried to fight it again, but it was no use. She had to touch him, be near him. Matthew was like a prey she wanted to stalk, someone that needed to be caught. She walked across the room, taking the bottle from Matthew. She took a long drink then handed it back to him.

  “We shouldn’t stand this close,” Matthew murmured. Mirabelle put her hand against his chest.