Any Witch Way You Can
Rachel Rawlings
Any Witch Way You Can © 2020 Rachel Rawlings
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Any Witch Way You Can
CHAPTER ONE
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
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This is dedicated to the one I love...
Any Witch Way You Can
Her only hope is dark magic...
Ellie James may be a powerful witch but she knows nothing—literally. Not even the simplest spell.
Her potions? So-so. Her tarot readings? Meh. If not for her (former) foster sister, Pru, sneaking her food, Ellie would have to eat her car—which would be bad, since it’s also her house.
But when Pru runs away and Ellie’s former foster mom shows up on Ellie’s figurative doorstep, desperate for help, Ellie learns the only thing worse than knowing nothing is dealing with the witch who knows everything...
CHAPTER ONE
“One card draw today, Sam?” I brushed off the layer of pollen coating the weathered concrete chess table before I set my tarot deck down. “Or have I finally convinced you to get a full reading?” The question was almost rhetorical. Despite my hopes he would take the full reading and put a few extra bills in my pocket, I already knew his answer.
“One card draw.” Sam’s lips turned up in an easy smile, fine lines forming as it reached his tired eyes. “Like always.”
“Like always.” My stomach grumbled its displeasure over his answer.
Sam pulled his card and set it down next to the dysfunctional timer. “The tower? Again?” His calloused hand hovered over the five-dollar bill he’d slapped down on the table, as if considering taking it back.
“What can I say?” I shrugged. “We’re in Mercury retrograde. You’re going to have to deal with this stuff, Sam, or you’ll pull that card every time.”
The truth was it could have been me as much as Mercury retrograde. My magic was hit or miss – usually miss. But my customers didn’t know that. With the exception of Sam, they wanted a little direction or affirmation they were on the right path. But Sam? He wanted a miracle.
And I wasn’t in that line of work.
Sam got up from the metal stool anchored to the ground with a harrumph but he left the five.
“Thank you, Sam.” I called after him. “See you next week?”
He replied with an undignified one finger salute.
“You can’t please them all,” I muttered to myself, shoving the day’s haul – a measly eighteen dollars – into the back pocket of my jeans before collecting the seven clementines I’d taken in trade for another reading from the other end of the chess table. “At least I won’t get scurvy.”
A light spring breeze carried the scents of hot dogs, buttered popcorn, and sticky sweet cotton candy. None of those things ranked on my list of favorite foods to eat but my mouth watered nonetheless. I preferred steak to boiled, processed meat, no matter how many condiments you slathered on top. Champagne tastes, beer budget. I started off in the direction of the hot dog vendor. It wasn’t filet mignon but it wasn’t a clementine, either.
You don’t have the money to spare, Ellie. I stopped short of getting line, kicking the toe of my shoe in the dirt. Prue will be here tomorrow, with more supplies. Just like every Tuesday. My younger sister – foster sister actually – had been sneaking food and toiletries into the park for months, ever since my foster parents kicked me out. Not everyone was as excited as Prue to find out I was gifted.
The carousel’s busy season was just kicking off – and hopefully so was mine. Things could turn on a dime in Carousel Park. A few sunny days strung together and my wallet would be flush again and that meant a hotel. A few days - that’s all I needed for my luck to turn.
This was not one of those days.
I see what you did there, Monday. I wish I could say I was amused.
A witch leaned against the driver’s side door of the beat-up ‘69 orange and white Chevy pick-up that also made up my primary residence. But it wasn’t just any old magic user. It was a dark witch. The dark witch - Jared Adams. He’d started hanging around Carousel Park the same time I started selling potions out of my truck.
My foster parents were normal. To say that limited my education on the witching world was an understatement. I didn’t know much about being a witch but the one thing I knew for certain – Jared Adams wasn’t to be trifled with.
He watched from the benches across the park while I performed readings and occasionally stopped to peruse my wares, scoffing at the ingredients listed on my handmade labels. He was a nuisance with a capital ‘N’. It was a shame, too, because he was also nice to look at. Mysterious grey eyes emphasized by medium length, midnight hair that was tapered on the sides and an athletic build.
Good looks, great power, and an ego to match, Jared Adams was a trifecta of trouble.
On the upside, my house and I could drive as many miles away from him as my gas tank allowed – which at last check was somewhere around thirty-five. All I had to do was get past him.
“Ellie James.” Jared pushed off the side of the pick-up and walked around to the back. “When are you going to take me up on my offer? It won’t last forever.”
Ignore him, Ellie. Just ignore him and he’ll go away.
I fished my keys out of the front pocket of my jeans and unlocked the cap on the back of the truck. After shoving my sleeping bag off to the side, I tossed my back pack in the bed, locked everything back up, and made a dash to get behind the wheel and get the hell out of there.
Jared was lightning in motion. He whooshed by me and had the driver’s door open before I made it around the side of the truck.
“You’re a persistent son of a bitch, you know that?” I slid into the driver’s seat and grabbed hold of the door to pull it closed. I needed something solid between me and Jared. “Why don’t you find some other witch to play with and leave me alone?”
I called up my magic. The little that answered spit and sputtered its way to the surface. I knew it wouldn’t be enough. I’d never have enough to deal with a witch like Jared but you work with what the Goddess gave you. I used it all to yank the truck door closed – only to have the door stay wide open.
Damn it all to hell.
One half of Jared’s mouth upturned in a lopsided smile. “I could do this all day... but I won’t.” He released his magical hold on the door and it slammed against the frame,
rocking the truck and me to one side. “What are you doing here, Ellie?”
“Making a living?” I pleaded to the Goddess as I turned the key in the ignition. Please let it start. Please let it start. The engine was misfiring but I didn’t have the money to fix it. Not yet. I almost wept with joy when it roared to life without skipping a beat.
Jared leaned in to speak through the half open window. It was broken or I would have rolled it up and I mentally skyrocketed the repair to the top of a lengthy list. “You’re not living. You’re barely surviving.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not dead yet so don’t count me out, Adams.” The rearview mirror disagreed, however. The face reflected back at me was one I hardly recognized. Dark circles under hazel eyes, more pronounced cheekbones thanks to the pounds I shed after living so long on the street. In another life I was well rested and well fed.
Of course, that was before my family discovered I was a witch.
“I’m here to help, Ellie. All you have to do is ask.” Jared removed himself from my window and winked out of sight.
I shifted the truck into drive and pulled away, praying he wasn’t there the next morning.
TUESDAY. MY FAVORITE day of the week. And that had everything to do with Pru. Not just because she brought me supplies but because she also brought me hope. Pru reminded me there was still good in the world. She believed in me, in my magic, and that it would lead to something amazing. She was five feet of positive energy, the total opposite of me and the only family I had left.
She was also uncharacteristically late.
I parked on the south side of the park, just like I did every Tuesday, and waited. Fifteen minutes past the hour, I started to worry. Thirty minutes, and I bordered on panic. It didn’t matter that my fears were unfounded because I would know if Pru were in danger.
Somehow, I always knew.
Still, Pru prided herself on punctuality. Something could have happened. Worry plagued my mind but there were no real warning bells so I turned on the radio in an attempt to distract myself from the onslaught of worst-case scenarios running through my mind. The classic song about a New Orleans gambling house came on and my thoughts turned to my birth parents as the singer wailed about the troubles of his own family.
Was my mother the witch? My father? Both? This train of thought never led to anything good. There were always more questions and never any answers. This time proved no exception and was decidedly worse when my thoughts turned to Jared. He tried to lure me into training under him with promises of power and knowledge to harness my magic. I turned him down every time. But if he offered information of a different kind, like who I was and where I came from, would I still say no?
Salvation from myself and at least one question best left unanswered came in the form of a 1962 robin egg blue Volkswagon Bug. The distinct sound of a VW diesel engine drowned out my radio while the fumes filtered into the cab of my truck through the broken window. I’d never been so happy to choke on exhaust.
Pru.
After shutting off the truck, I hopped out of the cab and rushed to greet her before she had her door open. “You’re late. Everything okay?”
“Mom’s starting to suspect something.” Pru stuffed her clutch purse into the glove box before getting out of the car and locking the door. She walked around to the front of the car and popped the trunk. Several bags stuffed with dry and canned goods were crammed inside the small storage compartment of the car. “This might be my last delivery for a while.... At least until I can throw her off the scent.”
“Thanks, Pru.” I rushed in for a hug. This was her biggest haul yet. I knew how much trouble she went to in order to get it. “This’ll last me a month, if not more.”
Her expression soured. “It’s mostly fruit cups and granola bars. Oh, and a couple jars of peanut butter. But that’s hardly a month’s worth of supplies. Maybe if I—.”
I grabbed two of the bags and headed toward my truck. “This is great Pru, seriously. Did you know peanut butter is a protein?” I jostled the bags to unlock the cap on my truck, almost spilling their contents when I caught Jared’s reflection in the glass.
“Here, let me give you a hand.” Pru came over and took one of the bags, unaware of the unwanted attention we’d drawn from across the street.
Jared never came around when Prudence visited me at the park. Why now? I tossed the bag into the back of the truck. When I turned around Jared was gone.
“Good thing there aren’t any eggs in there.” Pru shook her head in disapproval of the mess I’d made with the groceries. “Come on, let’s get the rest loaded into your truck. I haven’t had breakfast yet and I’m starving. Is the hot dog guy here?”
“Hot dogs aren’t breakfast.” My response was automatic. We had a similar exchange every Tuesday. Except this time, I made no move to help with the rest of the bags. I just stared at the empty spot where Jared stood seconds before.
“What’s going on, Ellie? You seem edgy—more than normal, I mean.” Pru rested a hand on my shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. “You can tell me all about it over a dog with the works.”
“No deal. I can’t confide in someone while they’re breathing hot sauerkraut breath in my face.” I shook off the anxiousness from Jared’s disappearing act. The last thing I needed was Pru looking into the dark witch – which she would, thoroughly, if I so much as mentioned his name.
The best thing for all involved – especially Pru – was to keep her as far from him as possible. Going through my sister was a sure-fire way for Jared to get to me.
And that wasn’t going to happen.
Chapter Two
Another day. Another reading. I sipped the translucent brown water masquerading as coffee I’d bartered from Chuck, aka the hot dog guy, in exchange for a one card draw. He pulled the wheel of fortune – reversed. Change was coming and not for the better. He was disappointed in the reading. That made two of us. I was disappointed in the coffee. At least Chuck had a chance to do something about his future thanks to the cards. My coffee on the other hand... nothing could be done to improve that.
I waited for my first customer at the chess table under the sycamore tree away from the prying eyes of park goers out for their early morning exercise and sipped my drink. It was hot and melted away the morning chill, even if it tasted terrible.
A woman pushing a supped up stroller with oversized wheels jogged over to the table. Blonde hair pulled in a high and tight pony tail, make-up expertly applied, and workout attire that coordinated with the diaper bag tucked in the basket below a snoozing toddler. She looked like she had it together. Appearances could be deceiving.
So could the cards.
At least according to her. Another dissatisfied customer. If the readings kept going like the last two, I’d be run out of Carousel Park for sure. The jogger tossed around a few names like hustler and con artist – nothing I hadn’t heard before – but she eventually handed over the money.
And by handed I mean tossed on the ground.
On hands and knees, I picked up the cash; spending extra time to make sure I hadn’t missed a bill. I couldn’t afford to lose a single dollar. Three weeks passed without a visit from Prudence. Supplies were low and my funds were lower. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on her until she stopped coming around.
A pair of sensible black leather pumps stepped into view. They could have belonged to anyone if it weren’t for the distinguishable scuff on the inside of the left shoe. Every left shoe she owned had that wear spot.
“Ellie.”
The stern tone of her voice when she spoke my name jolted me to attention. I smacked my head against the concrete chess table on the way up. The thumping in my head marched to the same tune as my heart. It didn’t matter that I no longer lived by her rules or under her roof. That woman still intimidated the hell out of me.
“Mrs. Harris.” I stopped calling her mom the day she tossed me out on the street with nowhere to go and only the things I could carry. “What br
ings you to Carousel Park?”
Of course, I knew the answer.
She wouldn’t step foot in the park, a place rumored to host magic users, if it didn’t have something to do with her precious Prudence. I didn’t blame my sister for the differences in our upbringing. Pru couldn’t help that she was perfect. Just like she couldn’t help that Mrs. Harris took notice of our differences the moment the Harris’s welcomed her into their home. Whereas they’d grown to love Pru, they only tolerated my existence - until my magic manifested itself.
Barbara Harris drew a hard line at witchcraft.
“It’s about Prudence.” She fingered her pearl necklace. Something she did whenever she was upset – usually with me.
“Of course it is.” I touched the spot on my head where it had connected with the table and sucked in a breath. Damn, that hurt. Fingertips slicked with blood, I wiped them clean on my jeans before I noticed the handkerchief Mrs. Harris held out to me.
That small sign of kindness raised all sorts of red flags.
“I need your help, Ellie.” Her voice wavered as she closed the distance and ruined her crisp white monogramed handkerchief by pressing it against the cut on my scalp. Her hand trembled as she applied pressure. “You always were a walking disaster. Even as a child.”
“Funny, I thought I heard you ask for my help.” I jerked my head to one side and stepped out of her reach. “But then you opened your mouth again and the same old Barbara Harris came out.”
“You must know how difficult this is for me. Coming here, to you, of all people.” She looked at the handkerchief, lips pursed in distaste. “That’ll never come out.” She found a clean spot, wiped my blood off her hands, and tossed it in the green metal trash can.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood to refrain from any snarky comments. It didn’t matter if she was referring to my dirty witch blood or an ordinary stain. The sooner I found out why she needed – or more importantly why Pru – needed my help the better.
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