Psychic Witch: A New Immortals Universe Novel (House of Magic Book 2)

by Ariel Hunter

  “I have one more thing I would like to add,” my mom said. They looked at her expectantly. “I will actually be stepping down from my seat on the Council indefinitely.” There were shocked whispers, and I was stunned too. “With the return of my husband, I feel like my position is at home through his recovery. He has been out of the world for over a decade. I am so unbelievably grateful that my daughter brought him back to me. I want to be there for him.”

  Well, fuck me . . . She hadn’t mentioned this, but it did make me happy. She was choosing family over her job. It had been a long time since she had done that.

  “Lila, that is ridiculous. We need you to keep your seat in the Intelligence unit. Now, more than ever,” Hiram protested. That made me wonder. Had they not found the Collector? A whisper of anxiety quivered up my spine, the memory of hanging in his cage haunting my thoughts . . .

  My mom held up her hand. “I have made my decision.” The protests stopped. She smiled down at me. “The Council put me at odds with Marnie, and I allowed it to be so. My place is with them. I want to make sure I can help keep my daughter safe. Perhaps even help with her training, if Mr. Edwards and Marnie would have me.”

  Callan looked to me, but I decided now was not the time to make that kind of a decision. While my mom and I were healing our relationship, having her as an instructor probably wouldn’t be the best choice. I had had enough of that as a kid, but I appreciated the strides she was making. I’d rather have her back as my mother than a teacher. “It will be up to Marnie, Mrs. McTavish, but you have many skills. Your insight will be invaluable,” he said.

  Accepting that as all she would get for now, my mom continued speaking to the Council. “My resignation is immediate; however I am willing to help train a replacement over the next few weeks. Thank you, Paragons.” My mom quieted and sat back in her seat.

  Well, damn. I hadn’t expected that.

  Hiram and Josie whispered together for a moment. They seemed to be terribly at odds about whatever they were discussing, but finally, Hiram turned to Callan.

  “Mr. Edwards. Your family had a seat on the Council for many centuries. With the sudden absence of two Head Council members and the glaring issue we have had in regard to the infiltration of the Collector at this high of a rank, we would like to offer you a place on the Council. Will you take your family seat?”

  Callan’s back stiffened and his hands clasped behind him tightened against each other, but his face remained relaxed. Had he been expecting or wanting such an offer?

  He hesitated only a moment, just to look at me, before responding. I wondered if it was because I was now a consideration in his future. “I will take this offer, but only on the condition that I am able to lead the investigation into every other member of the Head Council, as well as the minor Council witches and warlocks. It is time for a true review and I, as someone who has been on the outside, though a loyal member of this coven, will have the eyes for it.”

  The Council members began arguing immediately, a chorus of dispute. Of course, none of them would want an investigation, even if they weren’t on the Collector’s payroll. Surely, they had other skeletons in their closets. And Callan wouldn’t be the most sought-after dinner guest, that was for sure. Everyone would hate him, being the investigator into everyone’s potential misdeeds, no matter how petty or insignificant. But it was necessary.

  Callan raised his hands and magically elevated his voice, gold glistening off his palms.

  “I would like to remind you how you have treated myself and my future wife.” Another shiver ran through me and a whisper of a smile played at the edges of my lips.

  Take that, assholes.

  “We are the most powerful witch and warlock, not only in this coven, but the world. Granted, Marnie is still training, but she will surpass all of you. She will surpass me.”

  I smiled at him as he reached out and took my hand. He was commanding them so effortlessly. There was a slight golden glow around him, not really a threat, just a reminder to all present.

  “If this investigation does not proceed, and another member of any Council is revealed by the Collector’s designs, the Knights Templar will certainly come down on the Council of Witches. If they are involved, we’ll become entangled in a scandal from which none of you will escape. At that point, Marnie and I will be your only hope in recovery. And should that come to pass, we’ll not help you at all.”

  The Council’s silence was sullen.

  “If you don’t accept my offer to lead the investigation as a member of the Head Council, we will see that as an indication that there is something to hide, and we will leave the coven entirely.”

  Their silence showed just how much they needed him, perhaps how much they needed us. It was obvious by their downcast, sour faces, they would begrudgingly concede.

  Hiram forced a smile. He spread out his hands, then sparked his orange magic together to create a rainfall over his head as he clapped. The other members followed suit, praising Callan.

  “Of course, Mr. Edwards. Welcome to the Council.”

  Chapter 25

  Zilla raced along the sand, spreading out his talons as he tucked into a roll, spiraling through the gentle froth lapping at the shallow tide until he was completely submersed. He bobbed back up, red head with golden eyes surfacing first, then his little blue shoulders bursting out of the water. He whipped water away and sprinted back onto the dry sands.

  Anya and I laughed at his antics. Callan had teleported her to the beach, and we were enjoying some time out on the sand. We weren’t planning on surfing today, just catching up. There was a lot to say.

  Since Zilla was with us, Callan didn’t mind that it was just Anya and me on the beach. Even if the Council expressed concern about the little lizard’s magic containment, Callan seemed happy I had a bodyguard even when he wasn’t present.

  “So, he really becomes a dragon?”

  “Well, not so much becomes a dragon as just gets a lot larger. The size of a small dragon. And breathes pink fire. And jumps super far. Not really flying, but like, falling with style.” I cracked a grin.

  “Intense.”

  “Definitely has saved my ass a few times now.”

  “Why do they think he does that? Is it a normal thing for familiars?”

  “Well, I haven’t really had the chance to talk to Cassandra about it yet. But in all the books I have looked through, I haven’t seen anything like it. I think it is because my magic is so volatile. It’s coursing through him and causing different reactions in him too. It’s helpful for me, in a way, because he’s taking some of the burden, but . . .”

  Anya nodded with wise eyes. “But that might mean he isn’t really in control, either?”

  “Yeah. The Paragon Witch-Bitch said she could sense that my magic had changed. That it is fluctuating even more between the red and white since I broke the magical cage all by myself.” I looked out at the gentle waves and cerulean sky. “I don’t really know how that changes how I will manage it. I guess using Zilla a lot more will be the key.”

  “Does he talk to you yet?” Anya grinned and shrugged at my surprised look. “I’ve been doing some reading about Seers too. I mean, isn’t that something that familiars are supposed to do?”

  “Normally familiars and their Seers can communicate mentally. We haven’t really started that, yet, though. More just a sensation between us. I think we will with more time and training.”

  “That’ll be pretty cool when it happens.”

  I nodded. “Hopefully soon. For now, he just gives me judgmental glares.” She laughed as Zilla swung his head toward us and seemed to blink his golden eyes very slowly in our direction. “Training more with him means I’m not going back to Dimlight.”

  “I’m sure they will all rejoice.”

  I flicked some shell-speckled sand at her shoulder, wrinkling my nose, but then nodded. “Ass,” I chuckled. “But it’s not untrue. I’m happy I won’t have to be subjected to the bullshit, and I imagine
their training will go much better without me there. But that does mean I will be spending a lot more time with the Seer coven.”

  “And your dad.”

  “Yeah,” I smiled. “It’s . . . I don’t even know how to describe what it’s like to have him back. It’s so crazy. And he has really strong magic too. So, maybe he can help me.”

  “How is everything with your mom?”

  “Better, especially since she left the Council. I don’t feel like she is spying on me and I can actually trust her motivations.”

  We were quiet for a moment, the crash of waves and the warmth of our friendship glowing in the sun. I drew a small cloud in the sand with my fingertip. Anya put her thumbprint in it.

  “Seems like you’ve figured out your head and heart about Callan . . .”

  I smiled, staring at the little sand drawing. “I guess he managed to grow on me.”

  “He certainly was relentless about it. Got to give him credit for his tenacity. And maybe his stamina.” She raised her eyebrows up and down suggestively. “And vigor. And dexterity. And attention to detail. And—”

  I laughed to cut her off. “Yes, yes. He has all of those going for him.”

  “And . . . wedding bells?”

  I felt the immediate familiar impulse to run from the sentiment, but then calmed as I imagined Callan’s hands on my waist and his lips on mine. More than that, he was the strongest, supportive, and most knowledgeable man I’d ever met. And he was in my corner.

  “I don’t really know the timeline on that.” I blushed. “But you’ll be the maid of honor, of course.”

  “Obviously. Who else knows how to hide a whiskey flask in a rose and lily bouquet arrangement?”

  I laughed, then shoved Anya in the shoulder, making her collapse over onto her elbow.

  As I touched her skin, the world around us blurred. I could no longer feel the sand underneath me, the ocean misted away, and I was transported to a forest. Anya was walking beside me, jabbering about something as she handed me the whiskey bottle.

  We were hiking through the forest behind Eastbrooke. We were looking for a particular flower that I adored. Maybe for my wedding bouquet? Why were we here?

  I smiled at Anya as I lifted the whiskey to my lips, enjoying the familiar notes of honey and vanilla as it burned down my throat. I teetered a little as I handed the bottle back to her. I had already had quite a few drinks, it seemed.

  “I think they grow back by that waterfall near the Caves of Longing.”

  “Have you ever felt a sense of longing when you enter those caves?” I mused.

  “I’ve never gone in them.”

  “Really? Even when you were a kid?”

  “Nope. You see this body?” Anya ran her hands down her slender waist and curvy hips. “This body is in a bikini in the water of that gorgeous lagoon. Not burrowed back in a cave where god knows what lives.”

  I snorted. “Unless there was someone you wanted to be burrowed in that cave with.”

  She tapped a finger beside her nose. “Ah . . . that’s a different scenario, though, isn’t it?”

  We grinned at each other and were sweeping aside a branch when there was the sound of something large rushing through the brambles and ferns to the side. Fuck, maybe a bear?

  “Get behind me, quick.” I grabbed Anya and jerked her aside, just as a figure tore through the forest and barreled into me. He knocked me backwards and reeled around on Anya.

  It was a werewolf.

  I scrambled to my feet, staring at the massive humanoid form, pants torn, chest bare and covered in wiry fur. His head was fully transformed into a wolf, enraged red eyes glowing. Muscles rippled down his furred arms and his hands were outstretched to long-claws, their talons sharp and gleaming.

  What was he doing so far away from Asherville? After the turmoil there, all werewolves in the area had had their movements restricted.

  As he moved toward Anya, I flared pink magic from my fingers, aiming it toward him, but he spiraled around, tail flicking, and dodged away from the rosy ribbon as it flashed through the air, brilliant light against the dense green forest. He dashed upward and off a tree trunk, his huge form sailing toward me. He slashed his hand down into my head and smashed me to the side.

  I went flying headfirst into the moist-earth and ferns. My head was spinning, my vision blurry. Surely concussed. I tried to gain purchase under me as my knees and palms slipped on the leaf-padded floor of the forest. The werewolf rounded on Anya as she tried to sprint toward me. He grabbed her shoulder and flung her back against a bramble bush.

  I watched through bleary eyes, my heart pounding as he cornered Anya, backing her into a tree. He stood tall as she shrank back, brandishing a pocketknife before her. The werewolf grabbed it, ripping it from her hands. Anya’s eyes leapt to mine, then back to her assailant. The werewolf reared back and slashed his hand down through her face, clawing a jagged mark through her cheek. A sheet of blood showered onto the glen’s floor and Anya screamed, falling backward.

  My heart tightened in my chest and I lunged forward. I tried to pull myself to my feet, calling on my pink magic, panic flaring inside me as the werewolf cleaved her again, ripping through her shirt, tearing open her middle.

  “No,” I yelled, reaching for her, a flush of pink sending a spear toward the werewolf just as he turned and stared at me, angry eyes flashing.

  My head rocked back, and I blinked rapidly. The forest and werewolf had vanished. The world was back to a warm golden haze. Lazy white clouds floated over the cresting waves in the calm rhythm of the morning, but I was gasping for breath, my head feeling hot and flushed.

  I released my hands from where they were clenching the semi-wet sand and released the pebbles I had been squeezing. I wiped my hands on my shorts. My mouth was parched, and I tried to swallow away the endorphins still coursing through me, making me want to vomit.

  Anya placed her hand on my shoulder. She shook me a little. “Hey . . . are you okay? You kinda spaced out there for a minute. Did you just have a vision?” Anya’s voice still felt faraway, but I made myself focus on it. I shook my head a few times, clearing away the daze.

  I cleared my throat as I looked at her beautiful face, those worried brown eyes, draped by her long dreads against her dark brown skin, her gentle smile trying to reassure me . . . but the image flashed before me of her skin raked with claw marks and the waterfall of blood spewing from her body as the werewolf—

  I grit my teeth. I wouldn’t let it happen. That’s why I would train to use my Seeing abilities, right? To protect the ones I loved.

  “It was a vision about you.”

  Anya sat back, rolling her shoulders, as if getting ready. “Well, that’s sufficiently ominous. Lay it on me.”

  I admired her bravery. It was one reason I loved her, but she didn’t know what she was asking. I had just seen a vision of her death. She saw my hesitation and gave me the “you better tell me” look. I sighed and slowly related the vision. Her face grew blank as I spoke, and she held her knees tighter to her chest.

  “It didn’t look good. There was . . . there was a lot of blood.” I cringed, wondering how she would react to hearing about the gruesome attack and her likely death in a vision from a witch Seer.

  Anya looked out at the ocean, seeming to muse over my words. Then she looked back at me and burst out laughing.

  I stared at her, stunned. It wasn’t a happy laughter, it was grim, sure. But she still wasn’t responding the way I would have. Or the way any human should have if a witch told them their future. I tried to rub her back as she laughed but she was shaking too much. She wiped at the tears leaking from her eyes and turned back to me with a heaving sigh.

  “What. Was. That?” I demanded. “Why isn’t this alarming you as much as it should?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her as Anya’s lips perked up in a slight smile. Then she turned somber and sighed.

  “You remember that night at the Whirlpool when I was trying to tell you that so
me weird things have been happening to me?”

  My heartbeat was dull, expectant. Had she been having visions too? Had she been feeling ill? Were there problems with bringing her back from across the plane of death when she was shot at Boundless? I knew it was too good to be true. There were reasons necromancy wasn’t practiced, and it wasn’t just stupid religious ones.

  I grabbed Anya’s hand, mouth dry as I croaked out the words, “Tell me.”

  She sighed again.

  “I’m not freaked out about your vision because I’m pretty sure I’m seeing dead people.”

  To be continued . . .

  If you loved this story please consider leaving a review. The author decides what series to prioritize based on reader interest in reviews.

  Marnie’s story continues in House of Magic Book Three:

  Pink Witch

  Get it now!

  Also by Ariel Hunter

  Series in the New Immortals Universe

  House of Blood:

  Death Games (Book 1)

  Blood Gamble (Book 2)

  Vampire Wars (Book 3)

  House of Magic:

  Rebel Witch (Book 1)

  Psychic Witch (Book 2)

  Pink Witch (Book 3)

  Series in the Faeted Mates Universe

  The Winter King:

  Hunted by the Winter King (Book 1)

  Taken from the Winter King (Book 2)

  Taming the Winter King (Book 3)

  The Wicked Prince:

  Desired by the Wicked Prince (Book 4)

  Claimed by the Wicked Prince (Book 5)

  About the Author

  Ariel Hunter is an author of sexy fantasy.

  She writes about alpha males, badass women, and the magical worlds they inhabit. She lives on the gulf coast with her husband, adorable—though potentially part demon—children, and furbabies of all sizes. When she’s not writing, she is likely buried in a book, soaking in the sun, and eating tacos.