Welcome to Witchhood (Sister Witches Book 1)

by Colleen Luddington

  “We can do whatever we want.” Mirabelle stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. Electricity shot from her mouth all the way to her toes with that single touch. Matthew felt it too, and they jumped away from each.

  “Anona said we can’t, we can’t do anything tonight.” Matthew said, backing away quickly. “I think we should stay away from each other. We’re not supposed to-”

  “Wait, Anona told you not to touch me tonight? Why?” Mirabelle put her hands on her hips. Anona was somehow managing to cockblock her from miles away.

  “She said that if you were in a state when I got here, that something bad could happen if I touched you. Anona said she’d explain it to you when she got home. It’s something to do with you being a witch.” Mirabelle exhaled. Either Anona was a fantastic liar, or there really was something weird(er) going on.

  “Fine, fine. I’ll stay away from you, I promise this time. I’m starving. Let’s eat until we can barely move. No temptation to worry about then.” Mirabelle opened the cupboard and began pulling out bread, nutella, and anything else with a lot of calories. “Here’s to looking as unattractive as possible.”

  Matthew slept on the couch. Oddly, once Mirabelle headed to bed around 12, she fell into a very deep, sudden sleep. Her dreams were off, all colors and music and Blondie’s face, but she couldn’t remember too many specific details when she woke. Matthew was already awake, dressed, and eating when she woke. He politely took a very quick leave, citing that Anona had called and would be home any minute.

  “I already fed the animals, so you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll come back tomorrow, so we can all talk. For now, I just…” his voice trailed off.

  “I know; need a break from the witches. See you tomorrow.” Matthew smiled in response, but still left. He wasn’t kidding. After five minutes, Anona’s pick-up creeped up the icy driveway, and her sister came barreling into the house.

  “Are you okay?” Anona threw her arms around her sister. “I was so worried when Dottie called, I’m so glad Matthew got here.” Mirabelle wiggled out of the hug.

  “First things first.” Mirabelle interrupted. “Why did you tell Matthew not to touch me last night? I understand when I was going crazy writhing on the floor and all, but afterwards, he still wouldn’t come near me. I barely kissed him-”

  “WHAT?!” Anona screamed. “You kissed him? Last night, after Blondie had been here. Shit…” Anona’s voice trailed off.

  “What is the big deal? I had kissed him before, I wanted to kiss him again.” Mirabelle shrugged.

  “Sit down. We need to have a serious conversation about the power of a witch’s body.” Anona motioned towards the couch.

  “Gross.” Mirabelle complained, but still sat. Anona sat beside her, pulled Hedgie into her lap and sighed.

  “As a witch, your actions have very powerful consequences at times. If you were to, say, sleep with a warlock on Beltaine, no amount of birth control would keep you from getting pregnant, even if you were with a guy who had a vasectomy. In that same vein, if you do ever choose to sleep with anyone on Beltaine, there is like a 90% chance your birth control will fail and you will get knocked up. So don’t do it unless it is years down the road and you are planning to have a baby.”

  “When is Beltaine? I feel like I should tattoo the date on my forearm so I never forget it.” Mirabelle was seriously worried now.

  “April 30, May 1. You have a while. Anyway, the Fae have very strange effects on witches. From what you told me about your encounter with Blondie, he was most likely trying to steal your essence, or power. So for you to then sleep with Matthew, you might actually kill him replenishing what was taken.”

  “Are you fucking serious?” Mirabelle could kill a guy by sleeping with him? Her life just got much more complicated.

  “I am serious. It wears off; you’re fine now. Witches have renewable energy. A good night’s sleep and a good meal is usually enough to take care of it. Maybe a cold shower.” Anona giggled. “So, these are just other things you should know about. Sex is, obviously, something very powerful, so sex on certain natural holidays or in places that are linked with other realms can be risky. It can also be powerful, but let’s wait to discuss how to make spells more powerful by sex until you at least have a long-term boyfriend.”

  “This is the weirdest conversation we have ever had.” Mirabelle shook her head slowly. Things at Anona’s just continued down this ever stranger path.

  “New subject: how did Matthew react? Was he confused as to why you were, shall we say, in a haze?”

  “No, he saw Blondie. He described it as watching him suck the life out of me.”

  “Wow,” Anona commented. “He could see him?”

  “Yeah, saw him, yelled at him, heard him speak in a weird language, watched him turn into a deer; Matthew was pretty freaked out.” Mirabelle continued. Anona furrowed her brow. Even Hedgie’s facial expression changed with the statement.

  “Matthew conversed with a Fae.” Anona confirmed.

  “Yeah. I figured he’d be able to, they were in the same room.”

  “Hm.” Anona locked eyes with Hedgie. “Who would have thought?”

  “I’m sorry, are you ignoring me and talking to the cat? What are you talking about?”

  “Matthew, it seems, is a warlock. No run-of-the-mill human would have seen what he saw. Doesn’t happen. Matthew should have seen a guy trying to make out with you, who then ran away. Not a foreign-tongue speaking shape-shifter. I wonder what kind of warlock he is? This is so interesting; I never noticed anything! All these years I never noticed anything. Huh!” Anona stood up and walked to the kitchen, as if she had not just blown Mirabelle’s mind.

  “What do you mean he’s a warlock? And how are you being so nonchalant about it? I’m flipping out over here! Matthew is a warlock? I am just getting used to being a witch! I don’t need the added repercussions of the boy I want to sleep with being a warlock!” Mirabelle flopped down onto the couch.

  “Calm down, I’m making you some tea. Then we are going to burn some lavender and take a few deep breaths. We’ll figure everything out.”

  Chapter 9

  The next morning, Matthew came by at 8 AM sharp. His eyes were bleary after another wakeful night and he had not shaved yet. Mirabelle was pouring over the Goddess cards at the time; she kept pulling Maeve: Cycles and Rhythms. Either she was going to get her period any day, or there was some other cycle beginning or ending that she needed to be aware of.

  “Morning.” Matthew said shortly. Mirabelle quickly put the cards back into their case.

  “Hi.” She said quickly. She still felt very attracted to him, but that hook-up-or-die feeling had subsided. She hoped that meant her drained power was restored. “Do you want something to eat? Anona will be right out. I was going to make egg-on-toast for us, if you like that.”

  “Sure.” Matthew paused. “Before Anona comes out, I just, I have to know. Why were you so insistent on sleeping with me two nights ago? Was it something that guy did to you? Or did you actually want to?”

  “Well,” Mirabelle felt her face starting to blush. She decided honesty was the best policy, just like any elementary school teacher would say. “A little of both. I do really like you, and on a normal day, I am very attracted to you. That fairy, he amplified it, by like a thousand. Basically, I thought if you didn’t touch me, I would die. So, I apologize for that, and will try not to get in such a state again.”

  “So it wasn’t all the effects of nearly dying?” Matthew said slowly.

  “No, it wasn’t.” Mirabelle smiled, hoping he would do the same.

  “That’s good to know,” was all he said, before Anona walked in.

  “Hello, Matthew! Welcome to our witchy household. Everything will remain the same, but we will begin speaking freely of supernatural creatures and occurrences in front of you. Did you sleep?”

  “Not really.” He admitted. “I had a lot to think about. I also had to gingerly explain to my mother why I
spent the night with Mirabelle. She’s going to stop buying, ‘Anona’s out and Mirabelle’s scared.’”

  “Very true. So, good news first. You and Mirabelle both would have survived if you had given in to temptation last night.”

  “ANONA!” Mirabelle hollered.

  “Other news,” Anona continued without missing a beat, “I am pretty sure you are a warlock. Please don’t let that frighten you, and know that if you do sleep with Mirabelle, there may be powerful consequences.”

  “Anona, stop talking about Matthew and I sleeping together! Just talk about being a warlock for the next ten minutes, nothing else.” Mirabelle said through gritted teeth.

  “I’m a warlock?” The conversation was quickly spinning out of control.

  “Yes. It’s as simple as that. You have powers beyond the norm. I don’t know how far they extend, but they are there. You saw a fairy. He spoke to you, acknowledged your presence. They do not acknowledge normal humans. I don’t know how your powers will manifest, or if they will, but they are there. It can take time for dormant powers to awaken, but they will eventually.”

  “This is crazy.” Matthew muttered. Mirabelle walked beside him and grazed her hand on his forearm.

  “It will get easier to understand, and accept.”

  “What are your powers?” He said, turning to both of them.

  “I’m a Muse. I inspire those of an artistic inclination, to a very successful point. I am also a nature witch. I use herbs and rocks and plants in spells and they work.” Anona explained.

  “I’m still figuring out what kind of witch I am. I’m not a muse, or a succubus, or a healer. I’ve at least ruled a lot of things out. I am terrible with herbs so I probably won’t end up being a nature witch. Basically, I’m a mess. If you need a mentor, it should be Anona.” Mirabelle’s declaration solicited a small smile from Matthew.

  “So, what do I do? Run naked under the full moon?”

  “I thought the same thing!” Mirabelle exclaimed. “Apparently it’s not required.”

  “The two of you with your assumption of nudity. We can practice fully-clothed, thank you very much.” Anona rolled her eyes. “Matthew, you can do whatever you want. You can pretend this never happened, you can just wait until something happens and your powers reveal themselves. Or, you can explore. See what seems like it works for you, or doesn’t work.” Anona paused. “I know it’s different with warlocks; they don’t have the same powers as witches.”

  “And that, fairy guy, who is he? Why did he attack Mirabelle?” Matthew continued.

  “We call him Blondie.” Mirabelle started. “I don’t know his real name.” She turned to Anona.

  “He’s clearly a Fae. I met him the first time about a month after I moved here. Beyond that, I don’t know very much. He’s a year-round, not governed by the seasons as some are. I knew that this area had a high concentration of otherworldlies around and that I would probably being seeing some creatures. I didn’t realize right away that he was a Fae and not an Elf. They look very similar, but Elves and Witches get along, while the Fae are our natural enemies. I think he wants Mirabelle’s powers. When I first met him, he seemed very interested in me, but then one day told me I wasn’t the right one. Perhaps he is looking for a very specific witch? It’s confusing, I know.”

  “Anona has spell work protecting the house and farm, but I was an idiot and accidentally invited Blondie into the house last night, thinking he was you.” Mirabelle paused, turning to Anona. “So if I am the one he is looking for, he’ll probably come back, right?”

  “Probably. I’ll have to up the spell work.”

  “All right.” Matthew answered. “I’ll take that egg-on-toast now, thank you.”

  Matthew kept his distance the next few days. He seemed okay, but like he just needed time to let it all sink in. Anona hadn’t even gone over the fact with him that these powers were genetic. He had at least one witchy parent, most likely his dad. There was also the chance that Michael did not inherit powers, and if that was the case, Matthew was the black sheep in his family now. It was turning into such a tangled mess of supernatural powers in their quiet country neighborhood.

  The sisters bought their Christmas tree, but did not decorate it. It stood, stark, in the corner, like an overgrown indoor plant. Hedige made it plain that she did not appreciate the tree at all, and could be seen hissing in its direction at all times. The farm trotted on, though, in the cold winter, and before Mirabelle could realize it, the Winter Solstice had arrived.

  It was a dark, snowy day. Long icicles had formed on the house overnight, hanging so low they almost brushed the ground. Anona woke Mirabelle silently, handed her a hat and her coat, and a bag of birdseed. Without speaking, Mirabelle bundled up and followed her sister out of the house.

  They walked to the woods, silent in the winter morning. There was proof of life everywhere, a scurry of footprints, a small bird’s nest, but the creatures kept to themselves this morning.

  Following Anona’s lead, Mirabelle threw handfuls of birdseed through the woods, watching it scatter on the cold snow. Though the birds must have been within eyesight and earshot, they stayed away. The sisters slowly turned through the woods, leaving treats for all, and then solemnly walked back to the house. On the way to the porch, Anona picked up a log from the woodpile, examined it, and found it satisfactory.

  Mirabelle remained quiet and her sister’s shadow walking through the threshold, taking off snowy outer clothes, and slipping off boots. Anona took the log to the table, where she had three candles and a tool Mirabelle could not name. Using the tool, Anona bore three holes in the log, placed it in a small basket, and put a candle into each hole. She then lit the candles.

  “This is our Yule log. It will burn until the candles extinguish, and be our light into the new part of the year. Today, we are celebrating our gratitude over the past year. We ask for nothing, we expect nothing. We only thank.” Anona bowed her head momentarily, then raised it and smiled.

  “Otherwise, today is a celebration. The sun is returning, and as farmers, that is an important fact. Though tonight be long and dark, we are nearing the lighter days.” Anona walked to the closet and pulled out her box of Christmas decorations. “Now, we decorate! Just in time for us to go out of town, so no lights on the tree. And while we trim our tree, I’ll give you a short history lesson on Yule.”

  “Like ‘Troll the ancient Yuletide carol?’”

  “Precisely. Yule was a fun old, pagan holiday in the Germanic territories, or Central Europe. It was a day to feast, hunt, drink, sacrifice animals, and communicate with supernatural creatures. We will not be killing any of our animals or hunting. We will be feasting and you can have a glass of wine or two with dinner. And, we might even get to see a supernatural creature.”

  “Hopefully not Blondie.” Mirabelle broke in.

  “I don’t think he’s here today. These days are pretty important to the Fae as well. They are probably having a crazy orgy-party in his court. He wouldn’t want to miss that.”

  “Who would?” Mirabelle smirked, hanging a gold, glass ball on the tree. Anona rolled her eyes and smiled.

  “Continuing, a lot of Yule traditions have merged with Christmas ones, like caroling, and having a big piece of meat served at Christmas parties. Everything is connected.” Anona’s decorations ranged from over-the-top ornaments of Santa with his eight reindeer to simple wreaths made of twigs and berries.

  “Good to know. Any weird things going to happen today? Are you going to do some more fire magic? Or surprise me and switch it to water?”

  “Well, this isn’t actually a fire holiday. Those are Samhain, Imbolc, Beltaine, and Lughnasadh. My fire magic isn’t particularly strong today.”

  “Lughnasadh is a witch holiday?! And you celebrate it with your campers? Won’t their parents get upset that you are instilling non-Christian beliefs in them?” Mirabelle blurted out.

  “I’m not teaching them anything; I’m letting them pick apples in the m
iddle of the night on the date of an old harvest festival. We leave it at that.” Mirabelle felt like she still had mountains to learn. She had never heard of Imbolc before. Becoming a witch was turning out to have a lot of required reading and coursework.

  “Time for the edible Yule Log!” Anona pulled an ice cream cake out of the freezer. “Chocolate cake, vanilla ice cream, red, green, and gold frosting. A Yule tradition, and I might add, I finally get to share it with someone.” Mirabelle laughed.

  “Ice cream in December? I’ll take it!” The two sister witches dove into the cake, not bothering with plates, only with forks, and ate until their stomachs hurt and laughed until the sides ached. Anona put the leftovers on the porch for the gnomes.

  “Mirie!” Anona whispered harshly. “Get out here!” It was past dusk; the sky was black as ink, but clear with a smattering of stars and a waning moon. Mirabelle wrapped a blanket around her and slipped on her boots, leaving them untied.

  “Mirie, look!” Anona pointed out into the darkness. Mirabelle didn’t need to squint. As plain as the nose on her face was a man, at least 8 feet tall. His hair was a mess of mistletoe and holly, his bread a tangle of ivy. He wore hunter’s clothes and had an axe resting on his shoulder. He turned to face the witches, bowed deeply, then wandered until he was out of sight.

  “Who was that?” Mirabelle whispered.

  “I think that was the Holly King. He’s… he’s like a real deity. One of the Immortals. People have worshipped him for centuries. I can’t believe we saw him.” Anona was astonished. Mirabelle made a mental note to dig up some information about the Holly King.

  The next morning, Mirabelle packed up a small suitcase, including The Traveler’s Guide to the Realms and her Goddess cards. She pulled a single card when she woke, receiving Ishtar, one she had not seen before. “Love yourself enough to say no to others,” was her saying, and Mirabelle took it as a sign she might need some fortitude over the next few weeks.