What a Witch

by Colleen S. Myers

  Fingers snapped in front of my face. Bastion. “Hey dreamy smurf. Come to earth. We are getting ready to leave. Did you need to get anything else?”

  “No, I said goodbye to Josie earlier. She seemed to be taking it well.” Almost too well. The thought of leaving her tore me up, but she cuddled up to Marta just fine this a.m. Not that I cared that she took me leaving so well. Actually, I did care, but at the same time I shouldn’t. It would have made it harder if she cried. Still, a few tears wouldn’t have killed her.

  I sighed. Why am I so bitchy right now? Fear maybe? Or the fact that I am about to take off on a trip with a virtual stranger? No matter how hot he was in my fantasies and real life for that matter.

  He had a good body; hell, nowadays most people looked fit if not downright skinny. He had this awesome tan going on, and his curly hair drove me nuts. This one curl on his forehead made me want to tuck it behind his ear. The smirk on his face most of the time indicated he was aware of this. And that accent. Jeez. It wasn’t French or Spanish. This sexy combo and the way he said cherie made my heart flutter.

  Oh my god.

  What the hell was wrong with me? I needed to focus. Daydreaming about boys didn’t get things done. Plus, he was a bit of a pig. He made it clear that he expected me to do the ‘girly’ chores on this mission and leave the hard stuff to him. Little did he know, I was perfectly fine with harder tasks, but if he was going to give me the easy stuff to do, who was I to argue? Let him work. Sweat. Brush that inky black hair back from his forehead, mouth open slightly…

  Seriously, what was wrong with me? I flushed and looked around. Bastion moved past me and trotted outside. Thank god, he didn't see me going into my little dream state, ogling him.

  I’d eaten and I was ready. Josie left for school this morning. Marta packed us supplies. Bastion grabbed his own things. I walked out the door. I got this.

  Where was the car? Our mode of transportation? I didn't see a vehicle anywhere, only a motorcycle. Baz stopped beside the bike.

  Uh uh, no way.

  “I am not riding a motorcycle.” I could barely ride a pedal bike. No way was I getting on this death machine. Plus, it had no protection. What the hell was he thinking?

  “What?” Bastion rummaged through the saddlebag.

  “I can’t ride on a motorcycle.”

  At this, his head raised. “Why not? Bikes are fast. Low on gas which as you know is a premium item. This should be a good way to get to your coven.”

  “What if the vampires come after us? This does not provide any shelter what so ever and vampires are fast.”

  “Vamps cannot run faster than a bike. After the Madness, you know the roads are packed with cars. We need something maneuverable.”

  Say what? “We are taking the roads? Isn’t that dangerous?”

  He shrugged. “Not as dangerous as anything else lately. The vampires rarely cull the humans anymore. They have their food source all tucked nice and tight in their cities.”

  But. “The vampires attacked my coven.”

  His face softened and he straightened. “I am sorry for that. None of us are sure what is going on. There appears to be something going down with the vampires. They are on the move. This is the safest way to travel, not me being macho. I promise.”

  His lip curled up and my mind sort of blurred. This guy was hell on my libido.

  “Fine.”

  I still didn’t like it.

  “When we get there, I can show you where the ships are. Most of them are out, but we have some of the smaller skiffs and rafts.”

  “Skiffs?”

  “Sort of like a small sailboat.”

  “We are going out on a small boat?” He looked somewhat queasy.

  Ha. Now he knew how I felt about the motorcycle. “No, no, mon cherie. We are going on a raft. It is better that way. We have no crew. On the river, it will be more discreet and when we get to the locks, we can take the boat out of the water and walk around.”

  “Walk?”

  “Yes, walk.” I motioned my two fingers in the air to imitated walking. “The locks are where the raiders tend to ambush boats and supplies. If we dock ahead of them, we can move around safely and quickly.”

  “I can’t take the bike?”

  “Not on the raft.” Duh.

  “I thought we would be on some big ship.”

  “A larger boat needs crew and also makes a bigger target for raiders.”

  His face fell even lower than a sleepy hound dog’s.

  “Aren’t there things in the water? Just like outdoors, animals gone wild?”

  Little did he know. “Yes, but we will be able to get around them.”

  “How?”

  “It will be easier to show you than tell you.”

  He paused and swallowed, nodding slightly, then grinned. “You are still riding the bike.”

  Great.

  I sighed. “I still think there are quicker ways to travel.”

  “Okay, tell me one.”

  Umm.

  “My mother said people who ride motorcycles are organ donors.”

  He winked. “Not the way I ride. You just need to trust me.”

  “I don’t know you.”

  His breath brushed my ear when he leaned closer, his words soft and low. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you, cherie.”

  I clenched my hands involuntarily. My eyes closed as I forced myself not to reply or turn my head. “Fine.”

  Something smacked against my belly. Bastion held out a helmet. “And call me Baz.”

  I tightened the helmet on my face and watched Bastion get on. He steadied the bike between his legs then jerked his head for me get on behind him.

  Okay, here we go.

  I threw one leg up and realized my pants were tighter than I thought. With a hug, I vaulted up behind him and put my hands on his waist before letting go to barely grip his jacket.

  He twisted to face me. “Put your arms around me.”

  “Why?” This should be fine. I was on, wasn’t I?

  Instead of answering, he twisted the throttle and I nearly flew off the back, my arms reflexively tightening like a boa constrictor around his waist.

  He laughed, the asshole.

  “Hold on.”

  Fine. I loosened my death grip a smidge and laced my fingers together on his belly. His taut belly. He probably had a twelve pack.

  Dang it. Stop.

  Bastion pushed the bike and off we went.

  I couldn’t suppress a squeal when we took off fast. I could practically feel Baz laughing at me. He settled back after the first mile and put a hand on mine. I felt the heat of him between my legs and tried to back up. He accelerated and I resumed my stranglehold with a sigh.

  The air slid through my hair. It was muggy outside but the wind helped. It actually was kind of fun. We approached a curve and I tensed. His hand tightened on mine holding me in place and we leaned. I thought It would be scary but it was over quick enough that I barely noticed.

  The miles slipped by so fast. Trees littered the roads. Old cars rotted at the side of the highway. It took me two weeks walking and riding from Cincinnati to Columbus. This only took us two hours and we were there.

  Home. What was left of it.

  8

  Baz slowed the bike as we neared the barrier. I jumped off as soon as we got close and caught my first real view of my home, my coven.

  My heart ached.

  The coven looked worse than I imagined in my worst nightmares. I knew the coven fell, but it looked like the vampires went through destroying and burning everything behind them just for spite. The forest leading into the coven had been scorched, the land most likely salted so no more crops could be grown. To strip the land of its fertility.

  My throat tightened.

  Mr. Jenkins’ farm. He’d grown soybeans and wheat. All gone. I could see his house charred and ruined in the back drop. What of him and his wife? My hands shook. Did I want to know? I put my hand in the dirt and it
was even worse. I could hear the screams of land, people, power. I deliberately let the land slide through my fingertips feeling the pain like a caress along my skin.

  Why such devastation? What did the vampires want? To destroy the land and leave no one any home but their cities? It was madness. The world couldn’t survive that way. Didn’t they realize that?

  I felt my teeth clench in anger. More anger than I had ever felt, it swept through me, hot and wild.

  Pain. So much pain and anger.

  Why?

  This could not be borne.

  The ground shook.

  My hands spasmed and I looked to the sky. Clouds boiled in a snake around the city, forming shapes and pictures then disappearing. First a star, then animals, then bolts. I knew what that meant.

  I screamed out and the land shook from my anger.

  Bastion dropped the bike and ran to my side. “You okay?”

  “This is wrong. All of this.” My voice was deeper than I’d ever heard it and echoed, lisped, wisped, or whatever. Not me but me.

  Calm down, Elle.

  “Yes,” he said pulled me close, tucking me into his side.

  Tears dripped down my cheeks. The words slipped out. “I knew Mr. Jenkins. He used to be an accountant but he loved the land. This patch of earth is where I grew my first plant. A watermelon. Why do this?”

  “I don’t know. We will figure it out, but we need to keep moving. We need to find out if the ships are intact.”

  Alex’s ships. “They are intact. Alex was paranoid and kept three or four separate docks. Some open and some hidden in a cove down the way. No one knew about it, and with his skill, he hid it well, and it is warded out the wazoo.”

  “Good, we need that boat.” He hesitated. “You okay now?”

  “Yes.” I wiped my cheeks and shook out my hands. “I’m okay. Let’s do this.”

  I knew what I needed to do. That didn’t make the ride in easier. Mrs. Smith’s orchards, all the fruit gone, the trees burned. The schoolhouse lay in rubble. They’d taken down the main buildings in the city center. No area appeared intact. They’d even looted the graves.

  Little did they know, disturb a witch's grave at your own peril.

  We passed my neighbors’ houses. The Barton’s children were lying on the ground outside in the dirt. They were twins and the closest to Josie in age, fourteen. Such jokesters, always pretending to be the other and so very full of life. Now gone. I couldn’t bear to see them lying there rotting.

  I gestured to the bodies, but Baz shook his head and kept driving.

  He was right, we didn't have time. That didn’t make it easier to pass them. I stared. I would remember them, and I would come back and give them the burial they deserved. All of them.

  My eyes burned.

  This was wrong.

  It was all wrong.

  When we got near the end of the cemetery and approached the lane leading to my house, my head rang almost like a gong. The center of my forehead hurt. I jerked and squeezed Baz so hard, he had to stop the bike or risk a crash.

  I vaulted off the ride and ran to my mother’s grave.

  Baz moved up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.

  My fingers traced her name. “She was the first one to die in my family. She’d been outside the coven when the Madness hit. I don’t know if whatever it was affected her. She got run over by a car. We found her body two days later. I never got to say goodbye.”

  Baz hand squeezed my shoulder. “This is too much today. Why don't we find some where to rest?”

  “No, our task is too important. We need to keep moving.” I wiped away my tears and pressed my fingers to her name one more time. “I miss you, Mom.”

  The ground started to move and this time it wasn’t me.

  Bastion’s breath hissed out. “What is that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I pulled my hand back and the dirt sprayed near the grave. Every zombie movie I’d ever seen or heard of shot through my minds. I backed up and Baz placed me behind him.

  The ground rolled and rolled until the dirt crested and a lone item rolled to the surface. A book. Our family book of spells.

  Treasure.

  I collapsed and grabbed the brown book up against my chest. The smell of the old leather transported me back to all the times my mother showed me the pages and had me put my own mark alongside the signatures from all the members of my family before me for generations.

  Was this what the vampires were after? If so why kill my aunt and not make her give it up? Not that my aunt would have done that, but still. How would they know that?

  “Your family spells.”

  “Yes.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Good.”

  My fingers shook as I cracked the spine and traced my fingers over my mother’s name, Catherine Tremayne.

  Baz tightened his hand on my shoulder. “We have to go. You ready? Boats. Trip. Etcetera, etcetera.”

  I stared blankly. As long as I held the book, I felt the spells, the knowledge. It was so much, so much to know. So much to do.

  Baz swiped the book from my hand. A growl slipped out of me automatically, and I jumped for it.

  He held the book just out of my reach. “I will give this back once we are on the boat. Not now, please.”

  His ‘please’ drifted to me and took me out of the trance the book put me in. “Okay, but only if you give it back now.”

  I didn’t like anyone holding the book other than me, even a hottie like him. The knowledge inside was not for him.

  Power stirred in my gut, and I had to bite back another growl.

  He quirked an eyebrow but handed it back without a fight then put his hands up in surrender.

  I took a deep breath. I could do this. “My house and the dock are down toward the river.” I pointed to a dirt pathway off the main circle the clan stood on. It led to the water. “There.”

  Baz led the way, wheeling his bike.

  I remembered this walk as a child. My brother loved the water. He played on it anytime he could. Rebs and Baynor were our sea dogs in the coven, and they taught Alex everything he knew. Dad taught us how to hunt and harvest the land. I had to admit, I was much better at the hunting than Alex, but Alex had me on the boating.

  Pretty sure once Josie got her powers, she would be the diplomat among us. She was so damn smart and sneaky. We were a good team. We were a family.

  We rounded the corner. I could see what was left of the dock. It had taken damage. Most of the visible boats were sunk or just plain gone. At the end of the dock, though, the rickety wooden shacks stood undisturbed.

  Baz swore. “This is bad. All the boats are destroyed.”

  I waved him off. “The boats out are for show, the real ships, the big ones are in the sheds.”

  “Those teeny tiny shacks at the end there.”

  “I thought men always said size didn’t matter.”

  Baz glared at me. “If you think I am getting into a tiny-ass boat on the water, you’re crazy.”

  “But I had to get on a motorcycle.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  He threw his hands up. “It just is.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. Whatever. “There are big ships as well, but big ships mean a crew, and we don’t have a crew, do we?”

  He paused. “Well…”

  “Come on.”

  I scurried down to the dock. My first step nearly threw me into the water when the wood shifted. They’d damage the struts and infrastructure but the dock had back up floatation. Good.

  The sheds were just like I left them. The vampires must not have realized where the boats were housed. Whatever information they had didn’t cover that, and they had to have had information. There was no way they came upon us so quickly otherwise. Someone let them in. I was more and more certain.

  Interesting.

  “This is good,” I said as I turned in a circle, taking in the decrepit buildin
gs.

  “I hate to be arbitrary but this is junk, look at the sheds. They’re tumbling down, rotted. The boats are toast. Do you think they found the other dock?”

  “We don’t need another dock. The appearance is glamoured. Go closer.”

  He walked into the nearest shed: a skiff, a sail boat; outboard and powerboat. The bigger vessels docked in the other buildings. No damage. Perfect.

  “Look at that!” He smiled.

  “We need to check the town for more supplies but we should be good. Let me get the boat ready. See if you can get supplies?”

  “Are you sure it is safe to separate, cherie?”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “I’ll be fine, thank you. I am a big girl.”

  “I still don’t like it.” He hesitated in front of the door.

  I jumped onto the nearest skiff to assess the supplies.

  A rustle in the back startled me. I saw a tarp in the back start to move sideways. A skittering of claws.

  “Baz.” I threw myself back toward him. Maybe he had the right idea.

  He moved to my side and pulled me up and out of the boat.

  We both stared at the pile of supplies in the back. A slither and a scrape. I held my breath. Better not be a snake. I hated snakes.

  Another whistle and a little wee face peeked out from under the plastic.

  My shoulders relaxed. I knew that face.

  “Armando.”

  I sat and threw my arms out. Armando, the baby armadillo, rolled into my arms all armor and fur and whiskers.

  Baz looked flummoxed. “You have an armadillo?” he said in a tone suggesting that not all people kept armadillos.

  “Yes, he is adorable, isn’t he! Look at these cheeks.” Armando rolled into as tight a ball as he could and rolled around me in a drunken circle. “He’s Josie’s. I’m so glad nothing happened to him. Josie will be so happy.”

  “Good.” He nodded and backed toward the door. “I am going into town. You check the house?”

  9

  I didn’t want to see what happened to my home. This is where I’d grown up. We had an herb garden out back, roses in front and along the banks, and this awesome backyard with an outdoor barbeque and deck. We used to play out there all the time in the pergola.