Mystic Coven: Winter Wiccan (Supernatural Academy Graduates Book 2)

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  As I turned in the direction of town, I hesitated.

  "You good?" Clayton looked back.

  I swallowed hard. "I think so. It's just been a really long time since I've left Hazeldene." I glanced down the road again.

  Piper slowed by my side.

  "Actually, me too," she said.

  "Same," Noah added.

  Clayton's jaw dropped.

  "Holy shit," he said. "We're friggin' institutionalized without even realizing it."

  Asher pulled up next to Clayton.

  "What does that mean?" he asked like he'd just heard he had a disease.

  Clayton exhaled, releasing his stunned response.

  He shook his head slightly. "It means we've kind of forgotten how to function in the outside world. We've been isolated in our own bubble for too long."

  "Nah," Asher laughed. "I only just got here. I'll show you around." He chuckled, enjoying the power shift.

  I stared at Asher as a huge smile crossed my face.

  I trusted him completely in his understanding of the world, and was happy to follow him.

  It was in that moment that I understood fully the dynamic of our coven. We all relied on each other for different reasons, and each of us was a critical part of the whole.

  We were all happy to follow Asher without hesitation.

  "If it weren't for our cell phones, we'd be completely lost," I said, looking at my charge. "But honestly, we don't even use these to their fullest potential. It's more for weather checks, moon phases, and following the Wheel of the Year."

  I huffed at my own narrow approach to the big world.

  "Same," Piper chimed. "But you know, I think it's a choice, not a limitation."

  "Truth," Noah nodded. "Before I came here, these things ruled my life and everyone around me. Seriously, Hazeldene is more real world than the real world." He glanced at his own phone like it had the plague. "I'm glad we don't use them for more. People get lost in these and don't even realize it."

  By the time we reached the end of the wooded road, we'd all agreed that our sheltered experience at Hazeldene was more real than anything going on outside of the iron gates. We faced demons, time portal, and the celestial powers that made up the universe. I almost felt bad for everyone who didn't have the same opportunity. They were missing it.

  "I kind of want to see what they know about us," Piper said. "Can we stop in a shop or two on the way? It's a touristy town, right?"

  My head shot to Piper. Her words sent a magical surge through my body.

  Shopping?

  I'd only made small purchases before, mostly of essentials, but that was by making lists for the Ms. Harrison. As housemother, she always came back from her outings with the items requested.

  "Yes," I blurted. "Can we?"

  I felt like a child begging for a trip to the circus.

  Clayton laughed. "I'm sure we'll pass something of interest."

  "Yeah," Noah added. "Like a bus station. This is starting to feel like a very long walk."

  He was right.

  We'd left Hazeldene with directions to Hell's Gates, but no specific means of transportation. Walking seemed normal at first, but the more distance we covered, the more we realized its limitations.

  "We can ask in town," I said. "We'll figure it out."

  Noah rolled his eyes and shook his head as if I were in la la land.

  As we reached the end of the heavily wooded road, the sound of traffic piqued my ears. We'd been so sheltered from mainstream society at Hazeldene, even traffic sounded intriguing.

  "The main road is up ahead." Clayton pointed. He checked his map on his phone. "We take a right."

  Hattie started skipping ahead, giddy with excitement.

  "What is that sound?" she squealed, wide eyes searching.

  The zoom of cars and trucks filled the air, with the addition of a distant train horn.

  My jaw dropped open as I turned to Clayton. Then I ran up alongside Hattie.

  She'd never seen a car before. She was disoriented when she first came through the portal, so she wouldn't remember if she'd actually travelled in one.

  When she first arrived at Hazeldene, all the modern features of the house were like magical trinkets from a foreign land—especially our phones. But at least they were still housed in a setting she was familiar with—an old manor, sprawling land with stable ruins, a garden and labyrinth from days gone by.

  But now, she was about to have her mind blown.

  I took Hattie's hand.

  "Stay close to me," I said. "There's a lot of new stuff in town that you're not going to recognize. It might seem scary at first."

  "Goodie," she hopped. "I want to see."

  I gripped her hand tighter, cautious that she wouldn't break free and run ahead.

  As we got closer to the road, the first visible car whizzed by and Hattie stopped short.

  Her hand fell limp in mine.

  "What is that?" she murmured.

  "It's the future," Dom said dryly.

  "But hopefully not for long," Clayton added. "They're wrecking the environment."

  Hattie stared with wide eyes, waiting for the next one to fly by.

  "Transportation, Hattie," I said. "They replaced horses and carriages."

  We spent the next several moments explaining cars and pollution, but Hattie was already bored. Her attention had moved down Main Street to a row of colorful shops.

  My eyes followed hers and landed on a sign with a steaming mug. Coffee. It was suddenly all I could think about.

  "I want to go in there," she pointed to a different plaque.

  A black sign with purple writing hung over the sidewalk.

  Magick and Mystics

  The Oldest Witch House in New England

  We stopped in front of the shop and gazed into the decorative curtained window.

  Crystals, spell books, and candles encouraged us to enter.

  As we moved toward the door, my attention traveled along a stonewall at the side of the house. Engraved stones were embedded along the wall showing names and dates. As I moved in for a closer look, the row of names jumped out at me.

  Elizabeth Howe

  July 19, 1692

  Hanged

  Susannah Martin

  July 19, 1692

  Hanged

  Rebecca Wildes

  July 19, 1692

  Stoned and Pressed

  More names moved down along the wall but were too difficult to read.

  "I didn't know this place existed," I murmured, gazing back at the familiar items in the window.

  My stomach turned from the sight of the memorial stonewall, and I tried to distract myself from its true message. I'd never known the wall existed and couldn't shake the familiarity of the names.

  "This must be where Ms. Harrison gets our supplies," Piper said. "I recognize those sage smudges. They're tied with the same purple and yellow cordage as the ones at the house."

  I nodded, gazing up the black clapboard exterior of the old building. It was three stories high and looked like an old colonial home wedged in between newer buildings. It was clearly one of the original homes of Lakefield, historical and well-preserved.

  "Should we go in?"

  Before Clayton and Noah had a chance to respond, Hattie and Asher pulled the door open, jingling an old brass chime over our heads.

  Instantly, the smell of incense wafted around us, drawing us in.

  The wooden step beneath our feet creaked with a reminder of its age, and our voices echoed into the first-floor shop.

  I scanned the interior with its tables of crystals and stones, glass cases holding crystal balls and decorative wands, and a variety of satchels and potions. It was a true shop of witchcraft.

  But as I looked further in, black hats and broomsticks lines the wall. Then I noticed the temporary tattoos and stuffed dolls.

  My heart sank in disappointment.

  "It's a tourist shop," I murmured.

  "For some,"
a smooth voice brushed me from behind.

  We all turned at the same time and gawked at a woman standing in the shadow of long curtains.

  She stepped out from her place behind the counter, and surveyed each of us. Her face-piercings and heart tattoo under her left eye held my attention at first, but then I noticed more. Her long black hair had streaks of purple dye in it, and her sharp nails were painted in a variety of dark colors. Rings on every finger, some with more than one, excited me.

  "So, which are you?" she asked. "Tourists or practitioners?"

  My spine straightened, cautious at hiding our true identities.

  "Tourists," Clayton said. "Just passing through."

  The young woman nodded, eyeing Clayton up and down, and a surge of anger rushed through me. It was like she was sampling him in her mind, and I raged inside.

  "We should probably go," I mumbled.

  Her eyes shot to me.

  "Oh, but don't you want to have a look around? I'm sure you'll find something of interest."

  "Coffee is the only thing interesting to me right now," I retorted.

  I couldn't help being rude. She'd looked at my man like he was a treat.

  Clayton glanced at me, knowing I was pissed off, and he smirked.

  "Look at this," Hattie called over, pulling our attention to something new.

  She crouched at a glass case, and pressed her fingers on it as if attempting to touch what was inside.

  "What is that?" she whispered.

  We gathered around the case, and stared at the strange item within.

  It was a flat wooden board with letters, symbols, and words carved into it. A small triangular device with a glass window in the center sat on top.

  I looked back at the woman.

  "It's a Ouija Board," she said, moving out from behind the counter.

  Her long black dress ran to the floor, mostly covering her worn laced boots.

  "What's it for?" Hattie asked.

  "I don't think it's something you would want," she said.

  "Why not?" Asher suddenly grew more intrigued.

  The woman scoffed.

  "It's used to summon spirits. To speak with those who have crossed over."

  "What?" Piper gasped.

  "They are very powerful," the woman added. "I don't even use them in my own practice. I suggest you do a good deal of research before ever considering using one."

  All six of us stared at her in amazement.

  She was speaking our language without even realizing it.

  My heart rate accelerated as I gazed at the board.

  "Can we try it?" I said, without the ability to hold back my curiosity.

  "I wouldn't recommend it," she said. "Particularly here. You see, I live here." She glanced up at the floor above us. "Generations of my family have lived here, and this house is clean." She reached for a couple sage bundles and held them up. "I smudge the place on a regular basis to keep it that way. Opening the Ouija Board would compromise all of my efforts."

  Opening the Ouija Board?

  The idea fascinated me.

  Suddenly, it was the only thing I could focus on.

  I'd had no idea there was a tool for communicating with the other realm. My heart quadrupled in speed.

  "We need to buy it," I said. "The others at the house might know how to use it properly."

  As soon as the words left my mouth, my spine went rigid.

  "Wait," the woman said. "Are you guys from the Hazeldene House?" Her eyes grew wide like she was gazing upon celebrities.

  She stepped around, studying each of us.

  "You are," she said. "I feel it now. I don't know how I missed it at first."

  I stared at her as insecurity rose within me. I had no idea who she was or if it was safe for her to know our identities.

  "I'm Temperance," she said. "My great great many-times-over grandmother was Susannah Martin. Executed in the witch trials of 1692."

  We froze with dropped jaws.

  I'd seen Susannah Martin's memorial stone just outside.

  "Witchcraft runs strong in my family bloodline. I practice natural witchcraft and use the Wheel of the Seasons. It's a more celestial approach than the more common Wiccan practice." She studied us again. "I'm sorry. I've just always been fascinated with what goes on at that house. It's so mysterious and intriguing to me."

  I finally broke out of my shocked state.

  For starters, we were talking with someone who's history ran back to the time and place of our own. Hattie and I might have even known Susannah Martin. I couldn't be sure, but the connection to Temperance in this moment was profound.

  And she was a practicing witch, on her own, outside of the walls of Hazeldene.

  I couldn't help but stare at her in awe.

  Finding my voice, I introduced each of us to her. She nodded in greeting, listening closely to our names.

  "I think I should tell you," she said, glancing down at the Ouija Board in the case. "I made a sale not too long ago. A girl. She came into the shop with only one focus. Purchasing a talking board."

  My eyebrows pulled together as I listened to her.

  "Even against my warnings, she was intent on making the purchase," Temperance continued. "She assured me she knew what she was doing, and the way she spoke about the board and her own ability to move its planchette convinced me to make the sale." Her eyes fell. "I've felt guilty ever since."

  "Why?" Clayton interjected. "And what's a planchette?"

  "The power of the Ouija," she said. "It requires great skill. The planchette is the small piece that moves along the board. When a gifted practitioner places his or her fingers on it, it opens the channels." She paused for a moment. "And as soon as your..." she stopped, searching for the right word. "...group entered the shop, I got a strange feeling, same as the day I sold the board."

  I pulled back in confusion.

  "What kind of feeling?" I asked.

  Temperance shook her head and exhaled, as if trying to shake it away.

  "Like it was awakening." She closed her eyes for a moment. "The board had been in my shop for years. For some reason, it never sold. I thought maybe the image of the death's-head moth in the center scared people off. Or the burned edges and tattered condition." She shrugged. "Anyway, now I understand the feeling. It's connected to your house."

  "What do you mean awakening? How is that possible?" I shook my head in confusion.

  Temperance let out a slow exhale.

  "I think she was a Hazeldene girl," she whispered. "Everyone knows you guys are special." She took a deep breath. "And now, there's a good chance that the awakened board is in your house."

  Chapter 11

  As we barreled out of the shop, my mind raced with who it could have been that purchased the Ouija Board.

  Temperance followed us out to the sidewalk.

  "Let me know if you find it," she said. "I can help you close the channel if it's been left open." She pressed her lips together. "I should have never sold it to her, but it was something about her connection to nature that struck me. She said she could communicate with birds and so I..."

  My jaw dropped as I realized who she was talking about.

  "Chloe!" I gasped.

  "Chloe!" Piper blasted at the same time.

  My air whooshed out of me as thoughts of Chloe having access to an ancient Ouija Board chilled my core.

  "You know her?" Temperance asked, nodding her head.

  "We gotta go," I shot.

  Turning back toward the direction of the house, I waved for the others to follow.

  "Let me know if you need my help," Temperance called to us.

  Bombing toward the forest-lined road to Hazeldene, all thoughts of visiting Hell's Gates took a back burner. Now all I could think about was Chloe recklessly opening the talking board and generating a boat-load of trouble for all of us.

  "No wonder the Higher Order thought Chloe had perfected her gift of communicating with the other realm," I gasped. T
he realization hit me in an instant. "She's been using the board!"

  Clayton caught up to me.

  "Hey, slow down," he panted. "We need to take a minute to process this."

  "I thought we were going to Hell's Gates," Asher whined, glancing back in direction we had originally intended to go. "I want to see that place."

  "We'll still go, Asher," Hattie said. "Don't worry. We have to."

  I took a double-take at Hattie. Her confident tone rattled me, making it clear that she had very specific plans to visit Hell's Gates.

  "She's right," I said to Asher. "We'll go there. But right now, we need to make sure there's no threat of an open portal at the house. It could derail everything."

  I thought of the strange being Clayton had seen hovering over me. I glanced at him, baring my teeth in worry.

  "Exactly," Clayton whispered. "It has to be connected. She released something sinister."

  Noah and Piper pulled in closer, listening.

  "What are you talking about? Why are you guys reacting so intensely?" Piper asked.

  "It just all makes sense," I answered. "Chloe's ability to communicate with the other realm. She's the ambassador for the Drawing Down the Moon ritual. If she has opened some portal through that Ouija Board, it could allow anything through, including evil."

  "And maybe already has," Clayton added.

  Hattie pulled closer.

  "Evil?" she whispered.

  Clayton closed his eyes, regretting having spoken loud enough for her to hear.

  "I just want to be cautious, Hattie. That's all," he said, sending a side-glance my way.

  She shrugged. "Well, if it's evil, I guess it makes sense to stop it before going to Hell's Gates."

  Her understanding of the situation made me smile, and when I thought about it, I realized she was just as worldly as the rest of us. Though she might be young, she still had more travel experience and resiliency than most.

  But the more I thought about it, the more I cringed.

  I didn't want to have to address anything evil that may or may not have been released from an ancient Ouija Board.

  "I wonder where it came from," I murmured.

  Clayton slowed his determined pace. "Somewhere that was on fire."

  "Huh?"