Magic of the Void: A Reverse Harem Witch Series (Winslow Witch Chronicles Book 1)

by Lena Mae Hill

But now she was ready for action. Ready to avenge her parents.

  They met in the main cavern an hour later. Before she went off and opened herself to a bunch of faeries who, up until last week, had been intent on murdering her, she needed to test out the process with the one faery she trusted.

  Willow was sitting outside, at one of the picnic tables set up along the treeline. Quill hovered near the house, pretending to fix some of the other tables, though she knew he was there to make sure they were both okay. No one really knew how void magic worked.

  “You’ll be fine,” she assured Willow, taking both her hands. “We’re just doing a test run, okay?”

  Willow nodded. “Thank you. For trusting me.”

  “Why do witches hate faeries so much, anyway? Besides being kind of vicious, they don’t seem so bad.”

  Willow gave her a sad half-smile. “You mean aside from the fact that they tried to rip your head off?”

  “Exactly.”

  “They’re just natural enemies,” Willow said. “Like werewolves and vampires. Some beings are just not meant to be friends.”

  “Well, your mother must have disagreed,” Sagely said, squeezing her hands. “And she seems like a pretty smart lady.”

  Willow smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Open the link to your magic,” Sagely said, remembering the Wise One’s words. She opened her own link, allowing her energy to sync with Willow’s, opening the channel between them until she felt a slight tug. They were linked. She opened her eyes and smiled at Willow, who was grinning ear to ear. Sagely had never seen the girl so happy, and she knew she felt the connection, too. She was not just a half-faerie hybrid. She was a real witch.

  Her magic swirled into Sagely’s, and Sagely’s back into her. Willow’s magic was different than hers, so she could still feel what was hers and what was Willow’s. She was surprised by how softly Willow’s energy vibrated. But Willow was so quiet, it was exactly the pastel, gentle energy she should have expected. There was not a trace of darkness in her sweet heart, either.

  Opening the channel between them was a beautiful, strange, vulnerable feeling. It was like touching someone in the dark, knowing who they truly were. She caught the surprise in Willow’s eyes, even wariness, when the girl felt the twisted dark and light magic inside her.

  She reached, searching for the package of void magic that she’d be looking for in the fae. But as hard as she strained, she couldn’t find it. Finally, she slumped back, completely drained of mental energy. It felt good to connect with someone, but the strain of searching her depths exhausted Sagely. The link between them blinked out like a TV being switched off.

  “What happened?” Willow asked, looking both bewildered and slightly accusatory.

  Sagely shook her head. “You don’t have it.”

  “But I’m half fae.”

  “It’s not in all faeries,” Quill said, slipping onto the bench beside his sister.

  “But you had it,” she said, her eyes fixed on Sagely. “And you only have a trace of faerie blood.”

  “It’s not about how much Sagely has,” Quill said. “And it’s not a competition.”

  “Easy for you to say.” She tore her eyes from Sagely at last and glared at Quill. “You have the highest capacity for magic in the entire coven. Sagely comes in, she’s brand new here, and she’s already moved up a level. And she’s got special magic. When do I get to be special?”

  “You can heal people,” Sagely pointed out. “I couldn’t have saved Quill. But you did.”

  “Yeah, right,” Willow said bitterly. “I can only heal witches when one of my own people bit them. Because my people are just that savage. I feel really freaking special.” She jumped up and ran into the woods.

  Sagely started to get up, but Quill caught her arm. “Let her cool off,” he said. “She doesn’t mean it.”

  “I’ll go talk to her. Maybe she could use some woman-to-woman straight talk.”

  “She’s flighty, like her magic,” he said. “She’ll cool down and come back. She may be impetuous, but she can take care of herself.”

  “I wasn’t saying she couldn’t.”

  He smiled, his dimple sinking into his stubbly cheek. “I love how you want to take care of her. But trust me. I know my sister.”

  “You’re right,” she said, sinking onto the bench beside him. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’re pretty good at taking care of her yourself.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said. “She might look sweet, but she’s a pain in the ass.”

  “I’m sure all siblings are.” As soon as she said it, her throat tightened with the memory she’d seen in that mirror. She would have had a sibling if not for the warlock who murdered her parents. She wondered whether she’d have had a little brother or sister to look after.

  “One day, you’ll be taking care of our kids,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. She knew he was trying to be sweet, telling her she’d have her chance. But all she could think was…

  What the hell! Kids!?

  “You’re going to have to wait a good long time for that, buddy,” she said. “Like ten years.”

  “As long as we can practice for…nine?” He leaned back to give her a hopeful smile.

  “So you’re going to wait for a whole year?” she asked, giving him her most seductive smile in return.

  “I’d wait ten,” he said, his green eyes serious. “I’d wait forever. That’s not why I love you.”

  “Why do you love me again?” she teased.

  “You’re not afraid of anything,” he said, kissing her nose.”You’re brave, and crazy, and all-around kick-ass.”

  “Eh, not your best,” she said, giving him a quick kiss. “But it’ll do for now.”

  Quill laughed and squeezed her shoulders. “You okay? I could see that wore you out. You sure you’re ready to do that with the entire faerie troupe?”

  “I’m sure.” She straightened, her jaw set in determination. “Let’s go.”

  Thirty-Four

  “I don’t know about this. It didn’t work on Willow,” he said when they were in his truck. “You don’t have any practice. What if they do something to you when you’re vulnerable?”

  “Wouldn’t you do it, if you were in my place?”

  He got quiet, his jaw set, and stared straight ahead as they drove towards the faerie community, along a dirt road through the woods. But he didn’t lie about it.

  “Does Willow have any fae siblings?” she asked after a stretch of silence.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Faeries raise their children more…communally. Our people are very attached to our children. Raising them is very important to a couple, no matter how many husbands a witch might have, or if they are no longer together romantically. We still treat each other with dignity and respect once that bond is broken. Being able to leave a relationship that is no longer working makes that easier than for humans, who have all that guilt and shame and obligation tied up into their vows.”

  “You make it sound so nice to have your marriages like flings.”

  “It is nice,” he said. “Every day, you choose to stay. If you love someone forever, you stay together forever. You don’t worry it’s out of some misplaced sense of duty. It’s because you are truly loved every day of your life.”

  “I admit, it was hard to wrap my head around your marriage customs at first, but when you say it like that…”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. God, he was gorgeous.

  “It sounds less like dating, and…well, damn romantic,” she admitted.

  “It is.”

  “So faeries don’t take care of their kids?”

  “No, they do,” he said quickly. “I’m not saying that. For us, taking care of our children is a priority even once a marriage dissolves. But for faeries, the children are the responsibility of the troupe. They aren’t neglected. But the stronger bond is between th
e husband and wife. I’m sure you can guess the reason.” He glowered at the road ahead.

  “What about your dad?” she asked. “I know you didn’t want to talk about it at the picnic. If you’re still not ready, I understand.”

  “No,” he said, gripping the wheel with both hands. “If we’re going to be together, I don’t want to have any secrets.”

  A strange feeling crept over her. “Secrets? What does that mean?”

  “My father was a very jealous warlock,” he said, then swallowed hard. “Like me.” He was quiet for a long moment as the truck slid on the gravel. His familiar scampered along the dash and hopped into his lap as Quill righted the truck.

  With another glance at Sagely, he continued. “He was my mother’s first husband. And then she took another, Willow’s father, and he just…couldn’t handle it.”

  “He left?” she asked, praying that was all it was.

  His knuckles were white on the wheel, and she could tell how hard this was for him. She scooted across the bench seat and put an arm around his stiff shoulders. He relaxed a little when she began to knead at his tense muscles. “No,” he said quietly. “He didn’t just leave.”

  “You can tell me,” she said. “I won’t think badly of you. You are not your father.”

  “I better not be,” he grumbled, turning up a bumpy dirt track and gunning the engine. The tires spun, trying to gain purchase on the steep, nearly vertical slope. The truck rocked over the exposed stones in the road, slipping and sliding but slowly gaining the hill.

  When they reached the top, he pulled up along the side of the road where several jeeps and four-wheel drives were parked. Quill turned to her.

  “If this changes the way you feel about me, I understand,” he said. “I’ll step back and give you time to think it over, or…sever our bond.” He swallowed and dropped his gaze.

  Sagely wrapped her arms around his neck and forced him to look at her. “Nothing is going to change the way I feel about you,” she said. “I love you, Quill Golden. So shut up and tell me.”

  He smiled sadly and untangled her hands, holding them both in his own. “Like most witches, my father distrusted and despised faeries. He hated that he had to share a wife with one. One night in a jealous rage, he killed him.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?” He searched her eyes, and she could feel him exploring her emotions through their bond.

  “That’s definitely not cool,” she admitted. “But it’s not like you’re a murderer just because your father is.”

  Quill swallowed hard and looked down. “But I am a murderer.”

  Crap. How could she forget?

  She could see it was eating him up inside, what he’d done to the faerie queen. It was self-defense, though, and she didn’t blame him one bit. If he hadn’t killed her, she would have killed him, and probably kidnapped Sagely, too.

  But Sagely had told him all this before, and he was still torn up about it. After the first week, the murder she committed hardly entered her mind at all. Maybe it was the trace of faerie in her.

  “Look, I killed that dark warlock,” she reminded him. “We do what we have to do to survive. That’s not the same as what your dad did. Even so, it can’t be the first time someone’s gotten jealous. You have a polyamorous society. The way I figure, you’ve got to expect that kind of thing from time to time.”

  “Maybe,” Quill said, turning to stare out the windshield. “I know I need to get that part of myself under control for you, Sagely. To be a better man for you. I swear to you right now, I’ll never kill a member of your collective unless he’s putting you or our kids in danger.” He turned back and offered her a tentative smile.

  “Okay,” she said, laughing a little. “But right now, I can’t imagine wanting to be with anyone but you. No offense, but you’re quite enough.”

  “And you, my love, are more than enough.” He slid his hand up the back of her neck and over her head, flipping her hair into her face.

  “Hey,” she protested, laughing and shaking it back as she stepped out of the truck.

  They followed a footpath into the cool of the forest. The canopy of old-growth forest was thick, but sunlight dappled the ground at their feet. When they’d walked about five minutes along the twisting path, they came to a clearing where soft, lush grass grew, and sunlight streamed down through the break in the trees. Wildflowers dotted the tiny meadow, and butterflies flitted from one to another.

  Suddenly, the serenity was broken when four fully-armed faeries dropped from the sky. They seemed to hang suspended on the shafts of sunlight for a moment before landing, as softly as the butterflies on the butterfly weed. Except for the silver-tipped arrows strung and pointed at the witches’ hearts.

  “We come in peace,” Quill said, throwing up his hands.

  “Look out,” Sagely screamed. “It’s an ambush.”

  With a twang, an arrow left Fox’s bow and flew straight at them.

  Thirty-Five

  A shimmering bubble instantly materialized between the witches and the fae. The arrow lodged itself in the bubble, where it hung suspended, still vibrating. Fox grinned and lowered his bow. “I just wanted to see if an arrow would burst your pretty little bubble. Welcome. Let’s go up, shall we?”

  “What the hell!” Sagely screamed. “You could have killed us.”

  “I wasn’t aiming at you,” he said, his eyes raking over her body.

  Quill growled and stepped forward ominously, towering over Fox’s trim form. “Have your men disarm, or we won’t be going anywhere with you.”

  “Fair enough.” Fox’s companions, two of whom were familiar from her first faerie encounter, lowered their weapons. Fox leapt nimbly back into a tree, and a second later, a rope ladder tumbled down. “For our cumbersome-bodied guests,” he said with a grin, crouching on a tree branch as easily as a monkey.

  When Sagely and Quill reached the top of the ladder, the faeries were all jumping ahead on the branches. She glanced nervously at Quill, who rested a reassuring hand on her lower back. “It’s just like on the way to the swimming hole,” he assured her in a low voice, leaning down to speak close to her ear. “The forest will take care of you. Don’t be afraid.”

  She gave him a grateful smile, glad he knew her so well. He knew she wouldn’t want to show any weakness. He gave her a little push, and she stepped forward onto the branch. She was part faerie. She needed to know their ways, too. So she embraced her faerie side, the part that was strengthened by Fox’s bite. His venom was not poisonous to her. Feeling a bit invincible, she took three steps forward and jumped.

  Instead of leaping for another branch, she jumped like she was sky-diving. For a split second, fear reamed her gut. She’d done it wrong. She was going to die.

  But then a branch slid under her, springing her back up like a trampoline. She was not as sure-footed as the fae, who leapt and scurried from one branch to the next, racing along their length and leaping impossibly far ahead. Quill swung along beside her, staying close. She felt like a trapeze artist as she swung and leapt and fell, buoyed up by the leafy branches time and again. At last, still pumped from the adrenaline, they arrived at a wooden platform built into a huge, ancient oak.

  The faeries were dancing across a bridge that hung suspended across a canyon about a hundred feet wide. Below, a gentle stream glittered and gleamed in the sunlight as it twisted and turned along its path between lichen-covered boulders. Unfortunately, the bridge was made of what looked like tiny braids of dried grass, and the boulders may have looked nice, but that wouldn’t stop them from falling to their deaths on them.

  “Don’t be scared,” Fox called from ahead, turning to walk backwards on the swaying ropes. “It’s perfectly safe.” He gave them a toothy grin, and her damn, traitorous body quivered all the way through.

  “Safe for a faery,” Quill growled, taking a tentative step onto the bridge, his familiar clinging to his shoulder.

  “No,” she said, reaching out to grab his elbo
w. She pulled him back to the platform. “He’s trying to test us. But we’re guests here. They want to find out who has void magic and is in danger? Let them come to us.”

  After a moment, Quill’s full lips twisted into a smile. “I like the way you think.” He pulled her in and gave her a slow, lingering kiss. Her toes curled in her boots. Wait a year? She didn’t know if she could hold out another week.

  “Are you coming?” Fox called from ahead.

  She stood on tiptoes and kissed Quill another moment, harder and deeper. In case Fox had any doubts about whose side she was on here. Like she’d told Quill, blood didn’t decide who they were. They decided. She was not a faery. She was a witch.

  Breaking the kiss, she turned to see the faeries on the other end of the bridge. “We’re not helping unless you give us safe crossing,” she said, her voice clear and strong. “If you want to get rid of your magic, bring it to us.”

  When the faeries converged to talk, Quill leaned over and squeezed her hand. “Can I just say, you’ve never been hotter than right now?”

  “You’re looking pretty fine yourself,” she said, giving him a once-over.

  Fox hopped onto the platform, startling them out of the moment. “Come along, then,” he said. “We’ll carry you across.”

  “Never,” Quill growled.

  “You asked for safe passage, and we’re providing it,” Fox said as the blonde who attacked them on the road dropped down onto the platform and gave Sagely an excited smile.

  “You’re asking me to trust a faery with my life,” Quill said.

  “And you’re asking us to carry you on our backs, and be vulnerable to your voodoo juju. Our word is good.”

  After searching Fox’s face, Sagely nodded. With a bow, he turned and dropped to one knee. “Climb on and get ready for the ride of your life.”

  “I don’t think so,” Quill said, grabbing the back of Fox’s neck. “You can carry me.”

  The blonde girl looked wholly delighted to be Sagely’s steed. They climbed on the faeries’ backs, who then turned and leapt. Sagely could feel every muscle in her steed’s body tensing, like ropes of steel. For a second, two, three, they were airborne. Then the faery dropped onto the delicate braids of the bridge without so much as a wobble, and leapt again. In a few bounds, she made it to the other side.