Stray Witch

by Eva Alton

  My presence on the Andersson’s porch triggered the intruder alarm, waking me up from my reverie. Not only me, probably all the occupants of the house rose from their sleep thanks to my carelessness.

  A balcony sliding door opened on the first floor, and a shirtless Mark leaned towards the street, rubbing his face and yawning. When he saw it was me, he typed something into his phone and the alarm went silent again.

  “Get the fuck off. This is private property,” he spat in a bored tone, waving me off with his hand. The tone of his voice made it crystal clear that negotiations weren’t a top priority on his to-do list.

  I held his glare and started to climb the curved stairs. “I love how you always find a cute way to say hello,” I said with an eye-roll. The shadow of a raven darkened the marble steps and Clarence perched on a nearby tree, giving me courage. “I came to pay a visit to my daughters―hopefully, I’m not too early. It was hard to program a more suitable arrival time, because you locked me out of the house and conveniently canceled all of my credit cards.”

  “Katie and Iris are asleep,” he said with an annoyed puff, “and anyway, I’ve been talking to them, and they don’t want to see you.”

  I climbed the stairs and came to stand in front of him on the first floor balcony.

  “I can wait for them to wake up. Can you make me a coffee in the meanwhile?”

  Mark snorted. “You’re a pain in the ass, but I always liked your sense of humor.”

  “Is that a yes?” I batted my lashes at him and sat on the last step with my arms crossed.

  “They are not interested in you, in case you didn’t hear. Now get out of here. You are trespassing. Again.”

  I shook my head in confusion. “Again?”

  “What?” he continued. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I have contacts everywhere, and nothing surrounding you escapes me, darling. Although I’m really curious about how you ended up jumping over a graveyard fence one hundred miles from home. It’s not like we don’t have enough dead people in Emberbury, is it?”

  Was he trying to tell me something?

  I exhaled furiously. “If you were so well informed about my whereabouts, why didn’t you come and bail me out?”

  “Because I was glad you had finally landed in your rightful place, of course. The more I learn about you, the more I trust that belief.”

  “Sometimes I really wish I could kill you,” I said, twisting my finger against my temple. “Maybe I should just do it and end our suffering.”

  Mark grinned with enthusiasm. “Glad that you said that. Smile, you’re on camera!” He pointed at the black security cameras, directed towards us. A small, red dot of light glared over the lens. “Now I can add that stellar performance to my growing list of evidence.”

  Crap. And I had also lost the only proof I had managed to collect against him during my incursion into Saint Emery’s cemetery.

  A sleepy woman’s voice came from inside the bedroom. It had that classy Boston accent with dropped r’s shared by most of Mark’s acquaintances. “Is everything alright, Marky?”

  He turned around and drew the gauze curtain to peek inside. “Go back to sleep, Minnie. A wild beast wandered into the lawn and set off the alarm.”

  Mark came out again and closed the glass door behind him.

  “Unbelievable,” I gasped, standing up to face him and nearly foaming with fury. “Now I’m a beast―and a wild one at that. Isn’t that a bit rude, Marky?” I pronounced his nickname like it was a swearword, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Look, woman: I’d like to go back to sleep. Don’t make me call the police.”

  “The police?” This time, it was my turn to laugh. “And what are you going to tell them? That your wife woke you up too early?”

  “I could tell them she was threatening to kill me,” he said, pulling a solar light off a planter. It was shaped as a long, sharp-pointed stake with a retro-inspired lantern on the upper end. “I have it on video.” His tone was smug. He started to remove the dirt from the sharp end of the stake, ignoring my furious gaze.

  Mark pointed the sharp stick toward me and pushed me away, toward the stairs. “Now, take a hike.”

  The sharp point stained my blouse with dirt, and I jumped aside, startled. “Have you lost your mind? Sorry to remind you, but this will be recorded, too!” I pointed at the cameras, and he nodded with approval.

  “Huh, smart girl,” he said, punching into his phone to turn them off. “Much better.” He poked me again. “Now, shoo!”

  “Mark, I beg you, don’t take the girls abroad,” I pleaded. If harsh words didn’t work, maybe kindness would. “I know what you are planning, and it makes no sense. Why can’t we share them in a civilized way? It’s not okay to travel so far without at least asking me.”

  “That’s exactly what you did when you took them on that so-called vacation of yours with your lover,” he growled.

  All my good will evaporated. “You hit Katie in front of me and called her a spoiled brat! And it wasn’t even the first time! How was I supposed to let them stay in the same house as you? I just wanted them to be safe!”

  “Safe? With a nanny who read them horror stories while you were humping your friend?”

  “That happened only once!” I screamed.

  “You are no better than me,” he said smugly, leaning against the house wall.

  I looked around and saw another garden light nearby. I grabbed it and pointed it at him like a spear.

  “I can play dirty, too.” I directed the sharp tip toward his bare chest, and his smirk quickly vanished. “Let me in,” I said firmly. “Or at least, promise to bring them back home. Cancel the trip. We can share the house. I’ll sleep in the garage if that’s what it takes. But I don’t trust you alone with my daughters, okay? You are a violent lunatic.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have much leverage to win custody of those kids’ after working as a prostitute at a brothel during the last weeks. How did it go? Did you enjoy it? Finally, a job worthy of your wasted education!”

  “What the hell?” I shouted, my jaw dropping. That was probably a bluff, but it was offensive, nevertheless. A nervous flap of wings resounded in the background, imbuing me with renewed courage.

  “I thought it would be a nice touch to add that fun little story to your records.” He cackled. “My friends might have helped a little bit to fabricate some useful evidence.”

  He was obviously trying to provoke me.

  And it was working great.

  “You are crazy, and I hate you!” I screamed, my hands trembling as I held the pointed stick in front of me.

  “You’re so easy to tease.” His shoulders vibrated with amusement.

  Growling with fury, I tried to remember the words of the Fulminatio spell, so I could use it against him just like I had done with those Italian witches. But the twisted Latin words weren’t more than a vague, hazy memory in my mind.

  “Finis omnium...” I muttered under my breath, hoping to feel that characteristic tingling in my hands once again. I had so much anger boiling inside me that, had I managed to channel it, it would have sent Mark flying straight back to his office in Emberbury.

  “Internitionem...” That was the last word I could remember. My hands were cold and lethargic, with no traces of magic whatsoever. I let out a howl of frustration, while Mark held his belly and laughed at me like a madman.

  “And I am supposed to be the crazy one?” he said, wiping his eyes.

  A gorgeous woman in a lace nightgown appeared behind an open window, on the other side of the mansion. She was staring at me, and unlike Mark, she didn’t seem amused at all.

  “What was that about, Marky?” she asked. She was magazine-cover beautiful, except for the deep frown which marred her movie-star face.

  “Go inside, Minnie,” Mark ordered, waving at her. “My ex-wife here has been taking Latin lessons in her free time.”

  “Sounded like black magic to me,” the woman said, pursing her li
ps. “Not that I know anything about that.”

  Minnie disappeared back into the house, and I remained alone with Mark once again, the anger still simmering inside me, but unwilling to manifest.

  “Did you see that woman?” Mark said, gesturing toward the house. “Not only is she much prettier than you. She also has a Harvard degree and knows how to suck a dick properly. And now she’s going to be your daughters’ new mommy. Awesome, isn’t it?”

  Something popped inside my chest.

  I pushed Mark against the wall of the house, blind with fury, but he didn’t move an inch. He just stood on the first floor terrace with his amused grin, stronger and bigger than I, enjoying his physical superiority. Then, he slapped my backside and pushed me away, making me trip with the first step of the outdoor staircase. “Get going, bitch. Time to get lost for good.”

  As soon as Mark hit me, the raven―Clarence―appeared in the sky and dove toward Mark. He came out of nowhere, attacking Mark’s neck and arms with impassive accuracy. Mark flailed his arms, trying to beat the bird, but Clarence was relentless, drawing blood at dozens of spots. Still, he avoided Mark’s eyes, and he could have caused much more harm, had he wanted to.

  “What the hell?” Mark was livid. As soon as he recovered from the shock, Mark crouched and recovered the garden stake from the floor. He held it with both hands and aimed it at the raven, who kept charging him with flaming red spheres instead of eyes.

  I just stood in shock, observing the scene with detachment. It was like watching a movie. My body was there, but my mind was miles away, staring absently at the man and the bird entangled in a gory fight.

  Mark twisted his arm behind his back and waited for Clarence to approach. When the raven charged against him, Mark thrust the sharp stick into his opponent’s chest with a single, precise movement.

  The bird let out an ear-piercing shriek and plunged down, disappearing into the bushes of the garden in a weak flutter of feathers.

  I covered my face with my hands, letting out a horrified gasp. After that, a sepulchral silence ensued.

  A motorbike passing.

  A gush of warm wind rocking the delicate voile curtains.

  And then, nothing.

  “What was wrong with that bird?” Mark spat, kicking a black feather off the landing.

  The feather fell softly, looping in spirals before soundlessly striking the grassy ground a dozen feet below us.

  Clarence had told me once that vampires were hard to kill, but ravens were much easier to harm.

  At that very moment, my brain entirely disconnected from my body.

  I wasn’t just angry. I had turned into a formless mass of rage, mixed with a wave of something I still wasn’t able to name, but felt too much like the grief of losing a loved one.

  Without thinking, I stormed toward Mark, deciding to hurt him as much as possible and make him pay for all the suffering he had caused me.

  Mark blocked my attack with one single hand. He was laughing loud again, hardly hiding his delight. He pushed me towards the railing and hugged me so hard that I thought he was about to squeeze my lungs through my mouth.

  His lips settled on my ear, and he spoke in a low rumble, “You useless little creature. Nobody plays games with Mark Andersson. You should have learned that, after all this time. I haven’t lost a case for a decade. Do you really think I’m going to lose my own?”

  He released me with a sneer and I started to weep against my will. I hated myself for crying in front of him and giving him the pleasure of seeing his antics work. He had won, and I didn’t know what else to do.

  I just let the tears roll down my cheeks, accepting my new reality.

  But then, the black feather rose from the ground, ascending in soft waves, and landed at my feet like a silent message of hope. I took it and pressed it against my chest, ignoring Mark’s demeaning stare.

  Suddenly, the murky energy inside my chest was dispelled by something greater. It felt like a soft bubble, and it was edgeless, electric.

  It started to rise inside me like a tidal wave.

  It was unstoppable.

  The electricity ran once again through my arms, making my fingertips jiggle.

  “And then I realized I had been trying at magic wrong all this time...”

  Yes, Julia had been doing it wrong, and so had I.

  The key to turning on magic wasn’t channeling wrath.

  I knew it for certain as I felt the energy grow inside me, gratitude and grief gathering like the powerful thunderclouds of an imminent storm.

  This power didn’t come from hatred, but from love.

  Love for the man who had sacrificed himself for my sake.

  Love for the two little girls who slept in their tiny beds, unable to defend themselves from the monster in front of me.

  A love that was greater than me, and superior to anything I had ever known before.

  Rays of pure white light shot through my fingers, then turned purple as they hit Mark in the chest and bent him against the balcony railing.

  Mark’s eyes opened wide, and he gasped.

  When I shook my arms once again, he lost his footing, and his torso surpassed the marble balustrade.

  I came out of my trance, realizing Mark was about to topple over. As much as I hated him, I was not a murderer. I realized, maybe too late, that I wouldn’t be able to carry such guilt inside me.

  Using all my strength, I tried to pull him back onto the floor.

  Now he had learned his lesson.

  It was enough.

  He shook off my hands, but that made him lose his balance. His body moved backwards and swung dangerously over the railing.

  “If I fall, you fall with me,” he growled, and grabbed my arm before losing foot.

  We both plummeted into the abyss in a grotesque aerial hoop, and my body hit the ground below the stairs first, crushed under Mark’s significant weight.

  I felt the taste of blood in my mouth, and after that, only darkness remained.

  Chapter 36

  Alba

  I must be dead.

  How else could you explain that translucent black cat who was trying to talk to me?

  The ambulance sirens wailed in the distance.

  “You did so well,” the cat praised, “I almost thought you wouldn’t find out in time.”

  The cat licked my face, my neck and my chest. Its tongue didn’t feel raspy, like normal cats’ did―it was more like a beam of warm light, and it reminded me of the floating sensation that one gets after lying in the sun for a while. Then it blew into my mouth, and my lungs filled with air once again.

  I wanted to ask so many questions, but I was unable to speak. The cat licked my head some more, and something inside it clicked, untying my vocal chords from whatever had been holding them still.

  “You will be alright,” the cat said, arching its back elegantly. “And so will he.”

  “He, who?”

  “Both of them,” the cat said.

  The ambulance must be very close already. I could hear the vehicle parking, the back doors opening with a metallic bang and nervous voices giving orders, as someone dragged wheeled equipment toward the house.

  “Am I dead?” I muttered.

  “No, but unless you take matters into your own hands, you soon will be. Mark is the least of your problems, believe me. Much darker forces are behind you. Haven’t you noticed them lurking in the shadows? If you want to survive, you’ll have to become the witch you should have always been.”

  “But I don’t know how to become a witch,” I complained, sounding like a whiny baby. “I’m just a normal person.”

  “You are, and then you aren’t. You can be the Queen of Water, but you still have a lot to learn.”

  “And who will teach me all that?”

  “I can teach you everything I know. Once you recover, you should seek me.”

  The cat leapt towards the nearby bushes and waved at me with its semitransparent tail.

  �
�Wait!” My voice was like a thin silken thread about to break. “Don’t go yet. There are so many things I need to ask you. Where can I find you? I don’t even know your name!”

  The cat smiled.

  But cats weren’t supposed to smile.

  Nothing made sense.

  “Oh, but I thought you knew,” the animal said, hopping away just a second before the paramedics arrived. “My name is Julia. Julia Belak.”

  Chapter 37

  Alba

  Cables.

  Cables everywhere.

  There were so many that at first, I thought I was back at The Cloister, running wires and installing electrical boxes while I listened to Clarence and Jean-Pierre’s harmless banter.

  But then I noticed that someone had jabbed the back of my hand with a needle and left it there, causing my whole arm to hurt when I tried to move it.

  Actually, there seemed to be no part of my body I could still move without wanting to scream.

  “Where am I?”

  The question was redundant. It was obvious I was lying in a hospital room. The space was dark, apart from the monitors that beeped, black and green, full of numbers and graphs I didn’t understand.

  “Shhh,” someone said soothingly, stroking my hair.

  Clarence was sitting still on the edge of the bed. One of his arms rested limp on his lap, and the other one held an old, tattered notebook. He set it on the mint-green bed sheet.

  “I really shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, glancing nervously toward the door. The window was ajar, and he eyed it with apprehension, like he might jump out anytime. “But I needed to see you.”

  “Is this a dream?” I asked. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again: he was still there. “Because a cat just talked to me.”

  Clarence chuckled in confusion, caressing my head with arched eyebrows. “Some might argue that life is a dream, but as far as I know, no, you seem fairly awake now. I’m not sure about the conversation with that cat, though.”

  “I’m so happy to see you. I thought Mark...” I paused, not sure of the right term, “killed you,” I said finally, putting my hand over his and wincing when the IV dug deeper into my flesh.