A house that’s for sale.
“We’re going to buy a place this time,” she says excitedly. “We aren’t going to be renting. Hopefully, we’ll be there for a good long while.” Mom stands and hugs me tightly.
After a moment, I embrace her back. Buying a house does mean Dad thinks we’ll be in this Claymore for months, if not a year or longer. There must be a ton of witches in Claymore. Maybe several covens.
She pulls back. “Don’t worry so much. Everything will work out. It has so far.”
But it hasn’t worked out for the witches Dad’s killed.
But I can’t say that, so instead, I mutter, “Worked out for who?”
“For us. We’re alive and happy, aren’t we?”
“Alive,” I concede.
Mom half-smiles. She does that a lot. I think, deep down, she knows something isn’t right. For a moment, I consider telling her everything, but then what? She’ll never even half smile. If she confronts Dad, what will he do? He’ll never let us go. He’d fight a divorce. We would have to leave in the middle of the night, take on new identities… Mom would never go for that. Not without proof of Dad’s killing, and he’s too smart to leave behind any clues.
We’re all stuck.
“Isn’t being alive enough?” Mom asks.
“No.”
“What do you want? I know the constant moving—“
I’ve had enough. “Why do you tolerate—“
“Love,” she says simply. She kisses my forehead.
You’re wasting your love on a psychopath.
9
My bed is soft, almost too soft, and I just can’t get comfortable. It takes me hours to settle, but when sleep comes, it’s not about flying or witches and curses.
I see a girl with brown hair just above her shoulders. Just like the guy with the scar, there’s a lot of sadness. Her eyes, such pretty brown eyes, hold so much sadness.
So I talk to her. I’m not even sure what I’m saying, but she’s talking back, and now she’s smiling and laughing, and I’m smiling and laughing, too.
And when I wake up, I feel a strange emotion.
I feel hope.
Hope that tomorrow will be different.
Hope that Claymore will be our last destination.
Hope that my dad will soon end his witch-hunting ways.
Hope, hope, hope.
10
But then I realize something incredibly insane.
I’m not in bed.
I’m above it.
I’m lying on the air about a foot above my bed.
I swear it’s just like a cartoon—the moment I realize I’m flying? hovering? I fall right back down and land on my bed with a thud.
“Ow,” I mutter, even though it’s more from being surprised than hurt.
What in the world is going on with me lately?
I refuse to be a witch. It’s not possible. I can’t be.
But how else can I explain the floating?
That dream. The flying. Is it possible I can learn how to fly?
No. No. Maybe some witches can fly, but I won’t. I will not.
It’s a gamble, but it’s one I have to take. I will not use magic. I will not develop my skills. I will not be a practicing witch.
Calder doesn’t respond to me—except for that one time. Maybe Calder does realize I have the potential toward magic and doesn’t care so long as I don’t use it.
And I won’t.
If Dad finds out…
He can never ever find out.
Because even though I’m his son, I’m sure he would have no issue killing me.
11
Once Dad wants to up and leave a place, he doesn’t waste any time, and we’re off and driving, our truck hitched up to the back of our RV. Dad never lets Mom and Natalie into the RV, and the only reason why I’m sitting beside him as he drives is because I’m in the know.
I know he uses this for his trek to hunt witches. There are all kinds of things back there to help him. He’s trying to talk to me about it and the enchantments on Calder, but I don’t listen, too busy watching the boring scenery. Seriously, 95N is one of the most boring stretches ever.
We arrive in Claymore two days later, having stopped at a hotel overnight about halfway. It’s a quiet, quaint little town. Boring. Not a place I would’ve thought a witch, let alone witches, would hide.
Mom immediately sets about unpacking. She’s buzzing around, a ball of energy. Her transfer just went through this morning, and she’ll start on Wednesday, just like we’ll start school. Today’s Monday, but we still have to get paperwork and registered and all of that.
Dad wastes no time disappearing for “work,” leaving the three of us to move in. It’s the first time I have a room to myself since probably before Natalie was born. Mom works us hard, although she still does more unpacking than the two of us combined. It’s amazing how fast she is, how much energy she has. She’s used to being constantly on the go, since she works as a nurse for the emergency department.
Chaos is her life. Guess you could say the same about Dad’s, too.
After dinner—which Dad doesn’t show up for—Mom lets Natalie and me loose on our rooms to decorate as we want. Finally, I won’t have to see unicorns or cut outs from magazines plastered over two walls.
But instead of unpacking my sci-fi and fantasy books, I grab Calder’s leash. “He needs a walk.”
Mom nods. “Don’t stray too far and be home before dark.”
“No problem.” I give her a kiss on the cheek and head out of there. It’s lucky for me that Dad didn’t take Calder with him. That’s another thing—why doesn’t Mom ask Dad about bringing his dog with him to work?
Maybe she doesn’t want to know, or maybe he’s told her some whopper of a lie.
Calder easily trots over to me, licking my fingers. Yes. Yes. Hiding my “witchiness” is my only option. The drive over, I considered training in secret so that I can defend myself and Natalie and Mom against Dad if I ever needed to. Or against witches, against any of Dad’s enemies, since I’m sure he has enemies… if he hasn’t killed them all already.
But fear paralyzes me. If Dad finds out, he’ll kill me. I’m sure of it. He’s killed so many witches already. Killing a new, inexperienced witch who has no training whatsoever would be a cinch, even if that witch happens to be his son.
So my gamble remains in place.
Calder and I leave the house, and I pick a random direction, and we just walk. Near the edge of town, I spy an old woman. She catches my eye and hurries away.
I have no reason to, but I dislike her. Maybe I’ve dreamed about her, and I don’t remember.
Calder growls at her retreating backside.
“She a witch, boy?” I whisper to him.
Calder, I swear, shakes his head.
Maybe he’s just picked up on my strange feelings of animosity toward her.
As we turn back toward home, I spy a small mountain in the near distance. A shiver runs down my spine. There’s something about the mountain. I have no idea what it is or what it might mean. Maybe Dad wants to check that place out.
Snooping will be dangerous, and I need to stop worrying about Dad and his “work.” I want to have a new life here. I want a chance to start over. I want to give this place the opportunity to become home.
Most of all, I want to feel free to put down roots, to make friends, to actually give life a chance. With all of the constant moving, I never feel like I should bother with anything—school, homework, friends… Natalie and I are close because she doesn’t bother to make a lot of friends, either, although I think she does a better job of keeping in touch with them through emails.
But here, Claymore, maybe I’ll finally figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life. Maybe I’ll stop being in fear of my father and the shadow he casts long enough to become the man I want to be.
Because God knows I don’t have a good man role model in my life.
12
&nb
sp; Wednesday, my first day at Claymore High, rolls around, and honestly, this school doesn’t seem any better than any of the other twelve I’ve been to. Registering actually goes smoothly, and my schedule doesn’t look too bad… although I do have study hall before lunch. Man. Study hall with all the looks and whispers… no thanks.
When study hall rolls around, I opt for a library pass instead and make my way to the computers in the back, sitting down next to a girl. She doesn’t look over, intent on her work. Perfect.
But the computer won’t let me have access. “Password?” I mutter.
The girl looks over and clears her throat. “All students have the same password. It’s claymore. Not very original if you ask me.”
“Thanks.” I enter it. “There we go.” Grinning, I shift toward her. “I’m Gavin.”
“Crystal. So you’re the new guy.”
I grimace, allowing myself to pretend I’m upset by her words, but I’m blown away. The girl. She’s the one I dreamed about, with the brown hair and sad eyes. She doesn’t seem sad now, though, and she’s even prettier than I remember. “Hate that term, but yes.”
“I’m sorry. Do you move around a lot?”
I nod, focusing on her words and not my racing heart and blazing thoughts that want to focus on how I could’ve dreamed about a girl before I met her. “My dad’s job requires a lot of relocations, but supposedly, we’ll be sticking around here for a long time. I hope so.” His deep blue eyes brighten.
She grins. “Good. You’ll like it here. It’s a small town, one where everyone knows everyone—”
“Which makes ‘the new guy’ stick out all the more.” My jaw tightens. “Sorry. I’m sure it’s great here.”
For a moment, she seems to be thinking about something serious. Maybe she doesn’t think it’s so great here after all.
“I’ve lived here my whole life,” she finally says.
“Must be nice to have roots.” I run my fingers through my gelled blond hair. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”
“Open?”
My laugh surprises me. She’s as easy to talk to in real life as she’d been in the dream. “I was going to say moody.”
“I’m sure you’ve been to more interesting places than Claymore.” She rests her elbow near her keyboard, propping up her chin with her fist.
Scowling, I narrow my eyes, not at her but her words. “Some good, some bad. Interesting, yes. One place we only lived for a month. The town was filled with such shady people, and my mom begged my dad to move every day. Finally, he called up his work and asked for a transfer.”
I hate not being completely honest with her, but I can’t give her more details than this. She called me open, and right now, I’m being more open with her than I probably should be.
“Wow. What kind of work does your dad do?”
“He’s in business.” I shrug. “I don’t pay much attention to it, except for when it makes me start all over again.”
“It must be hard to leave so many friends behind.”
“I don’t usually bother to make friends. The longest we’ve stayed in a place was six months. It’s not worth it.”
“That’s so sad. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your pity.” That’s really the last thing I want from her.
“No friends means no girlfriend, right?” Her cheeks turn pink.
I arch my eyebrows. Does she feel a connection to me, too? Or is that wishful thinking? “No girlfriend. I’ve never had one.”
Crystal stares at me, and she wrinkles her nose, like she doesn’t believe me.
“You approve?” I tease.
She sits back in her seat, staring at the screen. Her cheeks deepen to red. “I’m sorry—”
I shake a finger at her. “Stop saying you’re sorry.”
“Sorry.” She grins. “Whoops.”
We laugh as the bell rings.
“Now I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you from your work.” I nod toward her computer.
She logs off. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t for school.”
“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t important.”
Crystal waits while I log off. “I have lunch now.”
“Me too.” I stand and run my fingers through my hair again. She’s short, not even coming up to my shoulders. “I know for all my macho talk about being a loner this is going to sound kinda lame but—”
“Sure you can sit with me and my friends.”
“Thanks.”
We walk out of the library together.
Yes, Crystal and I can be friends. Maybe some of her other friends will be cool, too.
I don’t want to eventually move away.
I want a home.
I want to live my life on my terms.
Magic or no magic.
Right now, to stay alive, I can’t be a witch. I can’t accept magic.
One day, my father will get his… maybe by my hand, maybe not, but I will never be like him. I will never kill a witch.
I would rather kill him first.
Little do I know how potentially dangerous my gamble could prove to be.
The End
About Nicole
Nicole Zoltack loves to write in many genres, especially romance, whether the love stories are fantasy, paranormal, time travels or regency. She’s also a freelance editor and a ghostwriter. Her works include the Magic Incarnate series, the Heroes of Falledge trilogy, and the Kingdom of Arnhem trilogy.
When she’s not writing about knights, superheroes, or witches, she enjoys spending time with her loving husband, three energetic young boys, and precious baby girl. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they’re unicorns, of course!) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire, dressed in garb. She’ll also read anything she can get her hands on. Her current favorite TV shows are The Walking Dead and Gotham.
Website: www.NicoleZoltack.com
Newsletter: http://www.subscribepage.com/m0k3l8
Another Freebie from Nicole
It’s not every day you learn you’re the incarnation of magic.
After learning her birth mother sought the help of witches to conceive her, fifteen-year-old Crystal’s previously unwavering faith is shaken. God hasn’t been answering her prayers like she thought--she was.
Crystal’s limitless magical potential is put to the test when her boyfriend’s mother is in a life-threatening accident. Surely God won’t mind her using magic to help people, but the miraculous outcome leaves Crystal wondering what she is capable of and worrying that her magic will damn her to Hell or, worse, prove she has no soul to condemn.
After her aunt is threatened, Crystal sets out to master her power, but flying and conjuring fireballs attracts dangerous attention. A witch hunter kidnaps her boyfriend, and shamans and witches hunt Crystal, desperate to use her to end a centuries-old war between the supernatural races. Her magic is an uncontrollable time bomb. If Crystal can’t figure out what she’s capable of, she won’t just fail to protect those she loves and end the war--she might start the apocalypse.
Get it for Free!
More from Nicole
She won’t rest until they’re all dead… but then she meets him, and everything changes.
Vanessa Lockhart is a vampire hunter, like her father before her, ever since those foul beasts murdered her mother. When she stumbles upon Anton, a vampire who doesn’t kill humans, she doesn’t relent. He protects himself from her onslaught, but even though he doesn’t fight hard, Vanessa is injured. That he doesn’t kill her, that he heals her instead, leaves Vanessa baffled.
A vampire clan hunts Vanessa, intent on killing her for slaying their leader several days ago. Anton manages to save her…but only by turning her into a monster like himself.
In retaliation, the clan kidnaps Emma, a young friend of Vanessa’s. She’ll need to accept her new second life, and Anton’s help, if she’s to save Emma…and maybe, just maybe, she’ll also find a way to forgive Anton for making her a vampire.<
br />
Grab Your Copy Today!
Deadtown
Debbie Cassidy
1
BYE, BYE TECHNOLOGY
I tapped away at my keyboard, determined to record every detail of the last case. Piskies! Actual live piskies! One day this memoir would make me a ton of cash. I gnawed on my cuticle and gagged as a bitter taste invaded my mouth. Crap. I’d forgotten about the nasty nail-biting deterrent that Ethan had made me wear.
Speaking of Ethan… I cocked my head and listened.
The shower had stopped, which meant—
The door of the en-suite bathroom opened and Ethan stepped out. You’d think that after four months on the road, sharing crappy motel rooms, and hours and hours stuffed into a car beside him, I’d be used to my mentor’s…looks. But those abs demanded attention and, like always, I had to force myself to look away from the beads of moisture that clung lovingly to his tight, defined torso, and the lucky rivulets that skated down to be caught by the rim of the low slung, all-too-small towel that covered what was left of his modesty. Not that Ethan had any qualms about that. I quickly lowered my gaze to my keyboard as he dropped the towel before reaching for his case.
“Can’t you get your clothes ready before you go in the shower? In fact, can’t you just take them into the bathroom with you and change in there?” I asked for the hundredth time.
All I got in response was a low chuckle that sent heat straight to my face.
“You can look now, Daria,” Ethan said.
I glanced up at him, narrowed my eyes and poked out my tongue.
“Real mature. What are you writing?”
He moved between the twin beds and leaned over me to get a look at my computer screen.
Not Just Voodoo Page 23
