by A. N. Sage
Blood coated the silver blade and I didn’t need to look at the beast to know the fury that must have been coating its face.
“Take that, you asshole!” I yelled and swung my blade again.
This time, the tiger was faster and it swerved out of the way to avoid my attack, leaving me just enough room to wiggle out from under it. I crawled back, my ass scraping the cement and ruining a good pair of leggings. Silas would not be impressed with my state when I got home. If I got home, that is.
I jumped to my feet, trying to will my magic to the surface. I could feel it just under my fingertips, eager to play; but no matter what I tried, it refused to comply. My cheeks reddened as my blood surged to the surface and I took in a shaky breath. Feet planted, I trained a sharp gaze on my opponent and tried to recall what Rhiamon instructed me to do in these situations. She was the fiercest fighter the High Coven had and it was no wonder she was one of the four high priestesses. Unfortunately, I was no Rhiamon and my mind drew a complete blank. I widened my stance, spreading my arms wide. On my finger, the moonstone ring caught the light of the still setting sun and the sparkle flashed across the tiger’s face. It twitched in its spot. Its heavy body froze, following my ring as my hand wavered in the air. What in the Goddess does it want?
I took a step forward, flipping the blade in my palm to point it at the beast. Its golden eyes narrowed on my frame and it shook its thick fur and hissed. I took another step—there was no way I was backing down now.
To my surprise, the tiger growled, turned on its heels, and leapt away from me and back into the bushes it emerged from. Without a second thought, I gave chase. My legs pumped and I could feel the muscles tense as I ran after the beast. I sliced through the foliage, twigs catching the skin of my neck as I fought to get to the other side.
When I reappeared on the other side, the field before me was empty and the tiger was gone.
My eyes jerked from side to side but it was no use; shadowers were quick when they needed to be and with the sun already this low, there was no chance of me catching up while it hid in whatever hole it crept from. This was an absolute disaster; one day in and I was already in trouble. I thought the High Coven sent me here to prevent me from using magic but how what I supposed to do that with shadowers sprouting from nowhere? And on school grounds! I would never go against the coven’s wishes, I wasn’t my mother, but this would be an impossible task.
I let out an annoyed sigh and fought my way back through the bush to the parking lot.
“You had to pee or something? Cause they have bathrooms inside.” Peyton smirked, shocking me with her presence.
Her arms were crossed at her chest and she tapped her foot like she was waiting for me the entire time. As fast as I could manage, I tucked the dagger in the waistband of my leggings and stepped unto the cement. “What? No. I…” I paused. “I dropped my ring, but I found it.” I held up my moonstone ring to prove my lying point.
“Cool.” Peyton smiled. “Looks like your bike’s out of commission.”
I followed her gaze to my limp ride and rolled my eyes. Damn shifter! “Shit. I must have knocked it over when I went looking for the ring. Well, that’s just great.”
“No worries,” Peyton said and nudged her head to a yellow Jeep Wrangler a few spots over. “I’ll drop you off.”
“Thanks but honestly, it’s fine. I can walk it.”
“You kidding?” She smirked. “It will take forever with that sad excuse for wheels. Hop in!”
I looked back to my useless bike on the ground and nodded; the faster I got back home, the better. With a grunt, I hoisted the bike into the rack on the back of her car and Peyton helped me secure it in place. My nerves were still jagged from the fight but I tried to look as relaxed as possible as we drove away, which was an arduous task at best with Peyton at the wheel. The girl was a maniac! She took turns without slowing down, sped up when lights changed, and had a complete disregard for pedestrians. And it was brilliant! I latched unto the seatbelt more times than I blinked but every time we hit a bump and I went flying upward, I couldn’t help but laugh. This was the most fun I’ve had in days!
“Soooo…” I peeled my eyes from the blurring road ahead to peer at her. “You always drive like you’re in a race?”
Peyton’s bubbly laugh filled the car. “Pretty much. My dad is way overprotective so this like the only chance I have to rebel.”
“One way of putting it.” I laughed.
“How was your first day?”
I thought about her question before shifting my weight in the seat. The point of the dagger had dug into my skin and I tried to rearrange it before I ended up shredding my leggings in her car. “Different,” I whispered.
“Savannah give you any more trouble?”
“No. But I made sure to stay away.”
“Don’t take her too seriously, she’s not worth it.”
“Ooooookay…”
Peyton pumped the brakes at a stop sign and sent us flying forward.
“Whoa!”
“Sorry!” She yelped, “That came out of nowhere.”
My heart was racing but I forced a smile her way. “So what do people do for fun in this place?”
“Fun in Shadowhurst? Unheard of.”
“Awesome.”
“But seriously, what’s your poison? I’m sure we can find something to do.”
I tried to figure out what my poison would be but all I could think of was spell ingredients for an actual poison and I had a feeling that’s not what Peyton had in mind. “I don’t know. I like movies, I guess. Mysteries mostly.”
“Me too!” Peyton exclaimed. “You like magic?”
A knot formed in my throat and I choked on my spit. “Excuse me?”
“Magic. You know, abracadabra and whatever. This town is full of stuff like that! People love the occult around here, it’s like their little obsession. You should have seen this place when that vampire movie came out, they pretty much had a parade in its honor.”
“…Oh,” I said, relaxing my shoulders. “Yeah, I guess. Kind of an occult wiz, sort of.”
Peyton turned to look me over, her lips curling into a grin. “We should totally hit up the Crystal Cauldron later.”
“The what?” I asked, baffled.
“The Crystal Cauldron. It's one of those new-age witchy shops, first one in town. I love it! It has all this weird crap and the owner, Ms. Broussard, is a complete weirdo. You’ll love her!”
My face paled and I looked out the window at the rest of the shops that lined the street. As far as I could tell, everything seemed so normal but somehow I landed myself in a town obsessed with witches and magic. Just my luck. Hiding who I am was starting to look like a harder task than I originally imagined and I wondered if the High Coven knew about this before they sent me here. Doubtful, they weren’t that stupid. My eyes widened as a thought popped into my head.
“This cauldron place, do they have crystals and herbs and stuff?”
“Oh, hell, yeah! The place is full of that stuff. Most people fall for that crap and spend a fortune in there.”
Suddenly, my dampened mood brightened. If I could get my hands on some supplies, I’d be better prepared in case another shadower attacked me. I knew the high priestesses said no magic but what did they expect me to do? Die here?
“Perfect! I’d love to check this place out!” I said giddily.
“We’ll go this weekend, it’ll be fun.” Peyton nodded. She rounded the corner and I slid in my seat, my head bouncing off the window.
“Hey,” I asked, “what’s the deal with that River guy?”
“Mr. Abs?” Peyton wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “He’s alright, for a trust-funder. Despite being friends with Savannah. Why? You have the hots for him?”
Blood rushed to my cheeks. “No! He was just nice to me so I was wondering. Back when Savannah and her hyenas tore into me this morning.”
“Hyenas! I love it!” Peyton laughed. “But like I said, don’t
worry about them. Everyone’s been on edge lately.”
“Really? Why?” I arched one eyebrow and turned to face her.
“Wait, you haven’t heard?” Peyton asked. “Is it a left or a right here?”
I looked up, confused by her question, and noticed we stopped at a fork in the road. My mind raced trying to remember the way to the Chandler residence and I had to lean out the window to see if I could spot it in the distance. Sure enough, there it was—my favorite eyesore—just down the street. “Right,” I said and leaned back. “What I haven’t I heard though?”
“About that kid? You know, the one that died last week? Lacey or something. I never knew her.”
“A kid died?”
“Yep,” Peyton said and put the car in park across the street from the front gates of my house. “Not just died, killed. It was all over the news. Super creepy too.”
“Creepy how?”
“I don’t know all the details, dad wouldn’t let me read the news that week. Like I said, overprotective. But from what I heard around school, it wasn’t pretty.”
“What do you mean?”
Peyton’s eyebrows kissed and she trained her eyes on me, her thick eyeliner making her look like a demon from an old horror movie. “They said when the cops found her, she looked like she was mummified or something.”
“Wait, what?” I gasped.
“I know! I told you, creepy!” She shook her black hair and unlocked the side door. “Anyway, you need help getting the bike off, or are you good?”
The goosebumps on my body spread from my toes all the way to my ears but I tried to shake the feeling of dread that threatened to eat me alive. I climbed out of the Jeep and turned to shoot a fake smile Peyton’s way before unbuckling my bike and dragging it to the gates.
“See you tomorrow?” Peyton yelled out behind me.
“You sure will,” I answered and waited for her to peel out.
Tiger shapeshifters and a mummified kid—the High Coven sure knew how to pick a good spot for my so-called vacation.
The Chandlers
My head was reeling as I walked up the steps to the main house. A mummified kid? Were they kidding me? Thinking of what this could mean was making it hard for me to catch my breath and I had to pause before I gathered the courage to turn the knob. Here I was thinking the shadower was my biggest problem when there was something else—much more gruesome—lurking in Shadowhurst. Sure, it could have been a plain old coincidence and a perfectly plausible explanation was out there for why a student from the academy was found dead in a strange, very magic-related manner. But knowing my luck, this was something to worry about. Besides, my witchy senses were going haywire ever since Peyton brought up the dead kid and that had to mean something. I had to get some more information on the murder as soon as I got back to the guesthouse.
With renewed excitement, I turned the doorknob and burst into the house. My feet skidded to a stop in the entrance as I took in the two people standing in front of me.
“Welcome home,” the woman sang, her arms outstretched like she was about to hug me. “We’re so excited to finally meet you!”
Goddess-freaking-damn-it! I cursed while inspecting the couple before me. They must be the Chandlers!
For two people who had been traveling for a week, they looked fresher than a newborn lotus bud. Mr. Chandler was dressed in a pristine, white linen suit that struck me as an odd choice for Shadowhurst weather. His gray hair was brushed to the side and adorned with so much gel it looked to be plastic. To me, he resembled what I could only imagine as a well-aged Ken doll; if a Ken doll could grow a beard that thick, that is. I tried to recall his name from what I briefly read about the two but my thoughts were mush. Mark, Michael… I seriously drew a blank here.
As much as I wanted to keep playing the guessing game, my eyes could not stop traveling to Mrs. Chandler. Imala, from what I recalled—a beautiful name for an even more beautiful woman. Unlike her stocky husband, Imala was tall and slender with a figure that wouldn’t quit. She looked much younger than him, we’re talking at least fifteen years here, and I couldn’t help but wonder how the two met. Imala’s deep bronze skin glistened in the chandelier’s light that hung in the hallway and from where I stood, she looked just like an oil painting. Her long, ebony hair hung effortlessly over her shoulders and even I knew that the pink suit she donned must have cost a fortune.
“Mr. Chandler! Mrs. Chandler!” I yelped in false excitement, “I’m so glad you’re back. It’s wonderful to meet you!”
I walked over to them, shaking their respective hands and trying to keep my shaking arms under control.
“Please, my dear,” Mr. Chandler said with a smile, “Thomas and Imala will do.”
Thomas? Wow, I wasn’t even close.
“Thank you for letting me stay here.” I nodded.
Imala reached out to wrap an arm around my shoulder and it took everything out of me not to brush her off. Physical contact was not something I had grown accustomed to; the high priestesses were not a touchy-feely bunch and even when Beatrix was around, she was more interested in teaching me to wield magic than hugs and cuddles. My skin recoiled from Imala’s touch but I tried to not let her see it, having a troubled teen in your house was bad enough, there was no need to let them in on the mess I was on top of it.
“How was your first day at the academy?” Thomas asked, his blue eyes inspecting my appearance. “It’s quite the school, is it not?”
I stifled a cough. “Yes, quite.”
“Have you made new friends? I hope you met Savannah and her friends! They’re lovely ladies!” Imala cooed and I all but barfed in my mouth.
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to many people,” I sighed. “I met a girl named Peyton. She seems nice.”
“Peyton Ling?” Thomas asked, one eyebrow arched.
“Yep.”
“Oh.”
What the hell did that mean? Did these people not like Peyton?
His wife brushed past him and pulled us into the living room, her eyes narrowed on her husband in disapproval. “Don’t mind Thomas,” she whispered when were past his earshot. “Him and Mr. Ling had some disagreements over a business deal and he’s still a little stuffy about it.”
Of course, I rolled my eyes. Rich people problems.
“No worries,” I said, “I understand.”
I did not understand at all.
“Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” Imala asked. “We’d love to hear more about you.”
“You mean other than what my file said?” I scowled.
“Darling.” Imala flashed her teeth. “Files are for the average. We’d like your side of the story.”
Mrs. Chandler patted me on the back and turned me toward the backyard door like I was a puppet she was commandeering. For someone that slim, the woman sure had some strength in her bones. I forced another smile her way before pulling out of her hold and making my way to the exit. “Oh, Imala?” I turned back, “I kind of had trouble with the bike. It might be a little broken.”
Imala’s black eyes sparkled and she spread her red-painted lips into a wolf’s grin. “Not to worry about, we’ll have Silas secure another one for you tomorrow.”
The heat of the jacuzzi jets warmed my aching bones as I lay in the large, marble tub inspecting the wounds from my fight with the shadower. I had a few scrapes down my shins and an already darkening bruise on my left thigh but other than that, I saw nothing worth worrying over. I’d have to make sure to spread some lavender oil on my legs before bed in case I had to wear shorts for gym class tomorrow. If I was careful about it, I could use a tiny bit of magic and no one would be the wiser.
My fingers flipped through the cream-colored pages of my grimoire and a sense of emptiness bubbled in my gut with each turn. Dragon’s Blood, chamomile, eyebright—I read off the ingredients listed before me. It was a simple scrying mirror spell and one I perfected before I was eight but it seemed as far away as anything could be. I mis
sed spell-casting and I missed the coven—my only family in this wretched world. I even missed Luna and her batshit crazy, mystical nonsense. Out of all four high priestesses, she was the one I could never connect to; likely because all she talked about was prophesy and the moon cycles. I never understood that part of our practice, why bother with guesswork when you can use spells to do your bidding? But the witch’s code was strict for spell-work and the High Coven was unbudging when it came to rules. Everything had a point and everything had a result. Disobeying coven rules could get you into more trouble than you bargained for, just ask my mom.
I flipped another page and my eyes trained on the messy hand-writing. I really needed to work on my lettering, this thing was a disgusting mess! I trailed the words with the tip of my finger, making sure not to smear the ink. It was a basic water-binding spell to calm one’s mind. I read the instructions and dropped the grimoire at the side of the tub. What harm could one little spell do?
Slowly, I flipped my palms to hover over the water and took a deep breath, inhaling the warm scent of eucalyptus bath salts in the air. With careful calculation, I lowered my palms closer to the water’s edge and closed my eyes. As soon as the water reached my skin, my magic exploded. I could feel it flow from my heart to my fingers, craving the energy the element provided. It wasn’t as strong a connection as I could form next to a natural body of water but desperate times called for desperate measures. I pulled on the power that rushed through my veins, calling for the water to reach me. Those damn blinking lights crowded the space under my lids and I had to blink several times to stay focused. From here, I could smell the coolness of the water as clear as if it had submerged me. I had it in my control. At my command, the tub bubbled and beads of water rose to the surface. I continued to breathe through the spell, welcoming the beads into myself. One by one, droplets of water rose from the surface and hovered in the surrounding air until I was covered by them. In a flash, I snapped my eyes open and plummeted my hands into the full tub. The droplets exploded, raining down on my face and neck in a mixture of hot and cold.
