Generation Witch Year One

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Generation Witch Year One Page 28

by Schuyler Thorpe


  Roz took one step forward as a personal challenge to herself and what she saw was her own worldly boundaries.

  “Lay a hand on him and feel my unbridled wrath,” she warned brusquely.

  Tillie’s eyebrows went up.

  “Oh, girl, if I was going to go down that route, you wouldn’t be standing right now.”

  Roz’s mouth fell open in that moment in strong disbelief.

  “Oh really?” She managed, flexing her hands a little. “Care to test that little wager?”

  Tillie studied her for a second, weighing her options. But before she could act on any one of them, Charlie stepped into the fray between them to defuse a potentially explosive situation.

  “Okay, you two. Go back to your respective corners.” He urged. “No blood will be spilled on my account.”

  Roz looked at the other girl and snorted derisively.

  “Smug little bitch.” She canted. “You’re just lucky I’m in a good mood.”

  Tillie eyed her for a long moment, eyes smoldering in response to her snide insult.

  “Whatever.” She deliberately baited before looking at her future boyfriend in passing.

  “So…you wanted to take me out somewhere? Because I’ve already met the home team on neutral grounds. And from the looks of things, she‘s a real basket case.”

  Roz started for a second, ready to throw down with her. But Charlie held her back in that moment with a restraining arm.

  “Easy. She’s just had a rough night. So she’s blowing off some steam. But she’s really easy to get along with.” He told her then. “Really.”

  Roz’s face went through a few unexpected transitions before she nodded—tight lipped.

  “So long as she keeps her hands to herself. I will have no problems with it.” The other girl said with a steely gaze of her own. “Right?”

  Tillie tried her best not to roll her eyes at her. But it was a tough call.

  “I’ve got no problem with it. How about you?” She asked of the older boy passively.

  Charlie glanced back at Roz. Then at Tillie.

  “If you two promise to behave, it will be my treat.” He compromised gallantly.

  Roz looked at him with mutual surprise.

  “Seriously? That’s not like you at all.” She personally vouched. “You usually have me pay the bill out of my weekly work credits.”

  “Only when I’m short,” he said. “Only when I’m short. I usually go halvsies on most outings. Minus the soda shop on 17th Street of course.”

  “True enough. Okay. Since you promised to pay for the two of us, I can…try to be on my best behavior with the new girl.”

  Charlie looked over at Tillie.

  “You?” He said on no uncertain terms.

  The girl shrugged indifferently. “Fine by me. You won’t hear a peep out of my side of the pond on this issue.” She said—standing pat.

  Charlie glanced at Tabitha. “I’ll bring her back before five this afternoon.” He promised.

  Tillie giggled then. “Hopefully, without the glass slipper.” She quipped outright and loud enough for Roz to hear.

  But the older girl caught the unintended barb shoved in her general direction and she scowled as a result.

  But in the spirit of solidarity, she decided she wasn’t worth losing a free meal over.

  At least not this time.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  A Sweet Surprise

  Kara Plummer came home after her emergency recall order to a surprisingly empty house. She half expected her boyfriend to be there, but all she found waiting for her on the kitchen counter was another small box of chocolates and a handwritten note from him telling her that he’ll be back in a couple of hours—stepping out to do some grocery shopping for the two of them.

  The woman smiled grimly before dropping her car keys into the crystal dish in front of her and sighed.

  Last night was one for the record books in her opinion. Not only did her original plan backfire, but she managed to be upstaged by a teenage girl whose cool intellect and brilliant negotiation skills forced her to temporarily retreat for the time being until she could come up with yet another plan to flush out her little quail bird.

  It was the girl the Regency Council had been after all along. Especially when news broke of Greta Freeman’s untimely death at the hands of the girl’s mother (whom disappeared soon after their encounter) and the girl herself.

  It had been a costly battle that shook up three counties in New Jersey as the girl took possession of the Dragon Tear’s power.

  It was the Dragon’s Tear that she had been most interested in since her own mother’s spell books hinted at the possibility of it being the key to her own salvation.

  And that was what obsessed her in finding it for the past decade—not realizing that her distant cousin had possession of it from the start and would not part with it for no matter what reason offered to her.

  Kara sighed miserably—realizing that her own pursuits in obtaining the Dragon’s Tear cost her precious time. But now that the girl had possession of it, it would mean that the next phase of her plan would go off without a hitch and force her and everyone else in the loathsome Resistance out into the open for a royal slaughter—along with the rest of the magical kinsfolk still residing in Old New York.

  The woman had no qualms getting rid of them if it meant achieving her overall objective. And that of the Regency Council‘s.

  The girl would be hers before the week was out.

  Kara began making coffee for herself while still immersed in her own private hell, but she knew that her own suffering would come to an end before she knew it.

  Then she could start working on the healing process while still trying to break the hold her mother’s amulet still had over her all this time. And that was going to be no easy feat itself.

  Changing the coffee filter, Kara put in a fresh Keurig coffee pod bought from the local Walmart super center, snapped the lid shut on the stand alone machine and then turned it on—listening for a moment as the water began percolating after a couple more seconds and then started the three step process for a much needed (and desired) pot of coffee. She could have made an expresso on top of that, but Kara voted for a strong cup after today’s events.

  Then she went over to one of the wine caddies next to her standing racks of cooking utensils and pots and selected a bottle of 2168 Beringer white wine and sat the clear bottle down for a minute to grab herself a glass.

  Using the wine bottle opener, the woman twisted herself into a knot until the cork came out on its own and she sucked on the end shamelessly like she always did when Jake was around.

  He often teased her about getting her own pacifier, but Kara just politely informed him to fuck off. This was her personal vice and she was going to enjoy every second of it.

  With the cork still in her mouth, Kara heard someone pull up to the house and she practically ran to the front door to see who it was.

  Pulling the cork out, she shouted and waved at the familiar yellow and green ground car with the broken hood ornament still attached to it through a liberal amount of boxing tape.

  Then it fell off after the occupant killed the engine.

  Kara laughed at the person’s sudden misfortune and jumped down the stairs to go fetch the thing off her flower bed again.

  Stuffing the still wet cork into her back pocket, the woman picked the sterling eagle ornament off the top of her rose bushes and slapped it on top of the porch railing in front of her.

  Then she went to go help her boyfriend with the groceries.

  Jake of course was surprised by her sudden appearance—thinking that she was still on duty.

  “Quick shift?” He managed to get out between kisses from her—even as he struggled to get free of his seat belt.

  “It was crazy,” she admitted to him openly. “But I can’t talk about it still because—”

  Jake looked at her solemnly. “—because one, it’s classified and two, it’s y
ou. I get it. I know.” He motioned with one free hand, while trying to come up with a judicious save with the other.

  He was failing at both.

  “It’s not that, baby.” She said—staring longingly into his eyes. “I’m just so close to being free of my mortal confines. I can feel it. And last night was no exception.”

  “Uh…so…?” he began delicately. “There’s news?”

  Kara hesitated and then nodded glumly. “We almost succeeded—that’s all I can tell you. But we got tripped up at the last possible second by our time sworn adversaries.”

  “Let me guess? The Resistance again? Or is it the Underground this time? I’ve heard that they’ve been a problem for your armies of the Third Watch for years.”

  Kara shook her head. “Not just them. Someone else that’s been on the Regency Council’s radar for quite sometime now—long before she became a…witch.”

  Jake’s face showed surprise by that statement of fact.

  “Wait. A witch? I thought they were all wiped out by now? Every single one of them?”

  Kara’s eyes gleamed a bit in car’s passenger light.

  “Most were—during Operation Helios. But a few were able to either escape or go into hiding.”

  “Except this one witch…you said?”

  Kara nodded excitedly—forgetting the cardinal rule about dispensing with possibly sensitive information to non-military personnel.

  “Yes. This one witch.” She said in a low voice—lending a hand to her boyfriend’s seat belt problem. “A teenage girl to be exact. She surprised me with her own brand of tactics in the end. I’ve spent most of this morning filling out reports and transmitting them to the Regency Council’s high command division.”

  “What will happen after that?”

  “Well, Operation Thunder Strike has been approved and much of the lower half of the island has been targeted for full bombardment from the Scorpion-class slug launchers. We’re expecting a twenty-nine percent casualty rate within the first twelve hours of the three day mission. One-hundred percent in 72 hours after that.”

  “Why three days?” Jake asked as her fingers found the release switch for the belt and she flipped the plastic toggle. The thing came free in a rush and whacked him in the face on the way up.

  “Ugn gnawd…” He moaned between his fingers. Then he shook his head to clear himself of all the ringing in his ears and the pain radiating in his mouth.

  “I think I got a fat lip from that one again.”

  Kara took the reigns from him in that instant and cradled his face with her hands and studied it with visible concern.

  “Yeah, it’s a fat lip all right,” she announced—touching his upper lip gently. She showed him her finger covered in a little bit of blood.

  “That’s going to need some ice.” She said with a small grin of her own.

  Jake moaned helplessly—which gave his girlfriend a rather pleasant idea.

  Getting into the driver’s side, she straddled him as gently as she could and kissed him lightly on the top of the head.

  “Would you like me to make you feel better?”

  Jake’s eyes rolled back a bit from the dull throbbing and pain he was experiencing still and he whispered: “Can it bloody wait until I’m out of this god forsaken death trap?”

  Kara giggled. “No.” She said in a sultry voice. “You look so delectable in your helpless state. It’s a huge turn on for me right now.”

  “A good scratch is a huge turn on for you.” He returned weakly. “Gods…now my head hurts.”

  Kara pressed her cold lips against his feverish skin. “I know baby. I know.”

  Jake continued to moan a little here and there as she inadvertently added some of her weight to his.

  “I don’t suppose…you know of any healing magic—do you?”

  “I am a dragon. Not a sage. Not a healer.” She growled. Then in a playful tone of voice, she added: “But I do have some aspirin and a cold compress to offer you though.”

  “I should have dated a witch,” he joked weakly before accepting her offer.

  “Then I would be within my right to kill you—if you did.” She reminded him coldly. “You are mine, Jake Harper. Now and forever. Don’t forget that. You don’t need a witch to make you feel good when you have me.”

  He eyed her then—seeing the possessive streak she exhibited over him since they started dating a couple years ago.

  “You’re so sexy when you’re angry.” He tried to mollify then.

  Kara bopped him on the head lightly with a closed fist.

  “Baloney.” She scolded evenly. “You’re just trying to keep me from murdering you in your sleep for even making that suggestion in the first place.”

  Jake smiled wanly. “Is it working?”

  Kara leaned forward to collect a small kiss from him in passing.

  “I’ll let you know when I get your cute ass inside—after we put away the groceries.” She ventured slyly. “Did you get everything on the list that I gave you last night?”

  Jake nodded. “Anything and everything.” He obediently told her. “Plus a few extra treats on the side.”

  Kara’s interest in him intensified. “Like what?”

  “I found a whole tray of Bulvarian chocolate crème puffs in the bakery section. I thought I was seeing things.”

  Kara gasped in astonishment. “You…found…Bulvarian chocolate crème puffs?” Then she squealed in delight.

  “Oh, I love you! Love you! Love you! Love you!”

  Scrambling over him the best she could, she leaned over the driver seat to get a good look at the fat twelve-inch tray which sat nestled among two bags of produce and bread.

  However she accidentally jammed her knee into her boyfriend’s crotch when she tried to make a lopsided play for them.

  “Ow! My nuts!” he cried out in pain. “My nuts!”

  “Sorry, lover boy!” Kara returned quickly—moving her knee onto his thigh while he tried to recover what little dignity he had left.

  “Is that better? Are you okay?” She said—grabbing the lip of the tray with her outstretched fingers and snagging it. If not barely.

  Jake nodded—wincing in pain even still. Which made both his face and his head hurt even worse.

  “I don’t think…we’re going to have kids anytime soon.” He announced with absolute dead certainty.

  “You’ll live.” Kara giggled—bringing back her hard won prize and plopping herself into the passenger side seat at the same time.

  “But let me eat one of these and then I’ll tend to your war wounds like any loyal girlfriend would.” She threw out then—popping the lid off carefully and selecting a well rounded crème puff that was as full as it was delicate to eat.

  “You’re going to make a real mess of yourself if you do that, Kay.” Jake tried to caution as she shamelessly bit into one end of it and ended up noisily sucking in a butt load of crème while doing it.

  She swallowed a couple of times in quick succession, then started coughing uncontrollably in the next minute—forcing herself to put down the now half eaten hollow chocolate puff back on the open tray.

  “Gods…I miss these so much. How did you even know?”

  Jake shrugged. “I seem to recall the last time you were in a foul mood you were griping about the lack of snacks in the house. Especially chocolate d'oeuvres. The exotic kind—knowing your…weakness. So I popped by the grocery store at North End and there they were—on sale for twelve point six credits each. I grabbed a tray of them.”

  “Why not two for the road?” Kara threw out with some disappointment in her voice.

  “Then neither one of us will be able to get much sleep.” He said. “The main ingredients is a 120% dark cocoa, 10% caffeine and 10% liqueur mix.”

  The other woman swallowed what was left of her first crème puff and sat back with a happy and content look on her face.

  “And rich too. Wow. I haven’t tasted anything like that in quite awhile.” She purred h
appily.

  “I know. That’s why I swiped them.”

  Kara opened her eyes and looked down at the tray nestled in her lap.

  “Alcohol you say?”

  Jake nodded. “Can you believe they had to card me for this tray?”

  “That’s a bit of a surprise. Must be a specialty kind of liqueur—possibly a European brand.”

  “French actually. I looked at the ingredient list on the way over.”

  His girlfriend lifted up the tray a bit to look herself.

  “Where?”

  “It’s on the label. In tiny print. Really tiny print. Like the type you would need a magnifying glass for.”

  Kara looked.

  “Huh. You’re right. Damn. How small is this shit anyways? I can barely make out a few words.” She said, reciting them in sequence.

  Jake was impressed. “Your French isn’t that bad.” He complimented openly.

  “I had a good teacher at school. He thought it would be beneficial if I got in a few lessons for girls my age.”

  “Well, my job takes me in an out of the European Union on occasion. So I have to bone up on more than my fair share of languages—if the need to communicate is an essential part of the ongoing business plan.”

  “Yeah, I know. You can speak up to eight languages. Six human. One Elva. The other an obscure dialect of hasa’na.” She told him with an impish smile all her own.

  Jake chuckled. “The Language of the Dead.” He revealed. “Yeah, unfortunately that’s part of my job script. And that language was nearly impossible to figure out until one of my business contacts procured for me an ancient necromancer’s tome for me to study. Then the rest was a cinch afterwards.”

  “Which reminds me…what are your plans for Halloween this year?” Kara wanted to know.

  “Probably the next scheduled tech symposium. There’s some whispers of a new fusion drive engine that a Swedish tech firm developed with the help of a Singapore company. Supposed to make trips around the Moon and Mars seem like a long weekend compared to the old Gen Sat III models which took three years to complete—the ones previously developed by both Boeing and Space X in the past half century since the end of the Great War.”

 

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