Shadow Witch (The Witches of Hollow Cove Book 1)

by Richardson, Kim

  Working fast, I tapped into my will and recited the incantation, channeling the magic from the ley lines. “With this triangle, I bind you, Imipt, demon of the Netherworld, to be subject to the will of my soul.” And then I added with more conviction, “I command you to stop!”

  I waited, expecting to feel the pain of using this Dark magic. Magic always gets back what it’s owed. I felt nothing apart from the scorching heat.

  It didn’t work.

  Whoops.

  Ronin stared at me, eyes wide. “It didn’t work!”

  Marcus let out a deep rumble in his throat that sounded like “no shit.”

  I leaned over my handwork, inspecting all the letters, sigils, and lines. All were done exactly like in the book. The only thing different was the name.

  With my right hand, I wiped the name in the triangle and quickly wrote another.

  “What are you doing now?” shouted Ronin.

  “Another name, that’s what.” I swallowed as another wave of nausea hit. “There are three dragon names here. It’s gotta be one of them.”

  “And if it’s not?” said Emmet, his face red like molten lava. “Many demon dragon names don’t exist in books.”

  He was right, of course. I started to get nervous, my stomach beginning a slow twist that made aches lace out through my arms and legs like slivers of ice.

  But this was all I had. I couldn’t lose faith now.

  Ignoring the mounting fear in my chest, I took a breath and choked on the lack of air. I cried, “With this triangle, I bind you, Atreur, demon of the Netherworld, to be subject to the will of my soul. I command you to stop!”

  And again, the dragon continued to spew out its fire at us.

  Kaito screamed as the green protective half-sphere warped and shrank around us until it was touching her head.

  “It’s coming down!” yelled Ronin as he moved to hold on to Emmet, who’d nearly fallen to his knees. This magic might kill him in the end.

  I wavered on my knees, blinking the sudden black spots away from my vision. Fear threatened to take over my mind, so easily if I just let it. I slammed my fist on the ground, not unlike how the gorilla had done before.

  I will not let this be the end. I will not let a crazy bitch with mutilated ears kill everyone I care about.

  Cursing, I conjured every bit of energy I had left in me, wiped the name again, and wrote another.

  With all my will, I hurled the last of my energy into the spell and cried, “With this triangle, I bind you, Obiross demon of the Netherworld, to be subject to the will of my soul. I command you to stop!”

  A rush of energy flooded my aura. My breath came fast as another torrent of energy surged in me—larger this time—with a force that sent me shaking.

  The spewing of fire cut off.

  I blinked as everyone stared at one another with wide eyes and uncertainty.

  “Holy shit. It worked,” said Ronin, beaming. “Look. It’s sitting like a dog. A giant dog with wings. It looks like it’s waiting for your next command.”

  Through the haze of the sphere, I could see the dragon was sitting, its red eyes searching for me.

  I smiled. “What a good boy.” Or was Obiross a girl?

  With a pop of displaced air, the half-sphere fell.

  Emmet staggered but pulled himself straight. He cursed and said, “Looks like the bitch’s been busy while we were working on saving our asses.”

  I looked across to the fortress, and it was my time to curse.

  Samara, what was left of the sorceress, looked like someone had carved a ten-foot, and grotesque version of her into the fortress’s exterior front wall. There was no telling what was Samara and what was the original fortress’s wood structure anymore. It was a seamless, perfect creation.

  Groaning, I tried to stand but fell, and if it weren’t for the fast reflexes of a furred arm, I would have fallen flat on my face. I blinked into the gray eyes of the gorilla. I leaned against him for support and turned to stare at the Samara-fortress.

  “Cauldron help us,” whispered Emmet. “Only a god could beat her now. Look at her.”

  My mind was working. During this whole time, Samara was lost, drunk on the power the ley lines were feeding her. She’d forgotten about us.

  That was her first and last mistake.

  “How the hell are we supposed to defeat her now?” asked Ronin, his smile vanishing.

  My eyes fell on Obiross. “What burns wood?”

  Ronin’s face shifted into a huge grin. “Fire, baby.”

  I took three steps toward the dragon, at a slow pace, Marcus holding me up. What a nice gorilla.

  When we reached a safe enough distance, which was a hundred feet, I raised my voice. “Obiross. I know you don’t know me, but I’m not your enemy. I would never harm you. I would never ask you do to something that you don’t want to do. I know you’ve been hurt. And I know she won’t stop.” I swallowed. “But if you do this one thing for me, I will release you. And you will never be summoned by her again.”

  Obiross lifted his head, blinked twice, and slashed his tail behind him, like a happy dog. I took that as a yes.

  I took a breath and said, “Obiross. I command you to burn down the fortress and Samara with it.”

  It took half a second for the big dragon to spin around and start spewing his fire at the fortress. It took a little longer for it to catch and burn, but it did.

  The ground shook and a horrible wail rose in the air as the first wave of fire hit the fortress.

  “No!” wailed Samara’s voice. “No! No! No!”

  The fortress shifted, and I could hear Samara’s voice rising above the flames as she conjured her magic.

  But it was too late. The dragon’s fire was too strong, and Obiross poured it out as though he were pouring out his hatred for the sorceress. Ooh. He really hated her.

  The flames burned through the roots and through what was Samara faster than any normal fire could. Like a giant bonfire, the fortress burned. I waited, watching in silence like the others as the top turrets and towers fell, listening to the cracks and pops of the burning fire.

  Obiross had stopped spewing out fire and sat on his hind legs, his eyes on me, expectant, and wondering if I’d hold my end of the bargain.

  I took three steps back, the gorilla still supporting me, and wiped my boot across the triangle in the dirt. “I release you, Obiross,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

  With a huff of his nostrils, the massive dragon leaped into the air, and with a great beat of his wings, he disappeared over the treetops into the night sky. I didn’t know where he was going, but I was certain it was far away from here.

  “What now?” asked Ronin, as the last of the tower fell, leaving only ash. “Samara is dead.”

  As soon as the fortress fell, I felt a release, like the forest, suddenly let out the breath it had been holding for years. The sky brightened and I could see some blue through the leaves.

  “Home.” It was all I could say. My eyelids felt like lead, and I could barely keep them open, let alone hold up a conversation.

  I could feel the payment for using Dark magic in my gut. I could feel it stirring, moving, licking its chops, and eyeing my organs with malevolent glee. It would start tearing my body soon. Then, I didn’t know what would happen.

  I felt my body start to fall.

  That was going to hurt.

  I braced myself for the fall. My face would hit first because I was too tired to stick out my hands.

  But it never happened.

  Instead, my feet left the solid ground and I was suddenly lifted in the air. My head lolled sideways, and I felt something warm, hard, and smoothed against my cheek. Blinking, I stared at a golden, hairless chest.

  Well, hello there.

  My eyes lifted and met gray ones.

  “I’ve got you, Tessa,” said Marcus, his deep voice rumbling through his chest and my cheek, not unpleasantly.

  Okay, when did this happen?


  I flicked my gaze around. Ronin, a big smile on his face, walked in front of us, next to Emmet and Kaito. Kaito glanced over her shoulder, stared at Marcus below the waist, and then looked up and winked at me.

  Marcus had changed back into his human form, but I’d never noticed. What I did notice was that he was buck naked with me in his arms.

  And he was carrying me.

  Naked.

  I felt myself blush at the idea of my flesh on his. Weird that I didn’t want to be anywhere else at the moment.

  Did I mention he was naked?

  I felt myself rise and fall as he walked. He held me close, and heat pounded between us. I won’t lie, it felt nice, more than nice, being in his arms, feeling the arms of a strong man wrapped around me tightly.

  I met his eyes again and my heart did a few kickbacks. His gray eyes danced with an intensity that had me feeling like Obiross had spewed some of his fire on me.

  Marcus—strong and mysterious, and as dangerous as a poisonous snake. And yet I felt comfortable and natural being in his arms, as he held me gently and protectively. Strange. This guy hated me. He did hate me. Right?

  Slowly I pulled away, not understanding what I’d seen in his face.

  The deed was done. Samara was dead. She couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. This also meant the curse was lifted off of Dolores, and our town was safe.

  Smiling, I closed my eyes and let my head fall onto Marcus’s nice, warm chest. Yes, it was a very nice chest. Why the hell not, right? It might never happen again. Might as well enjoy the ride.

  And so, I let a very naked Marcus carry me all the way home.

  And I liked it.

  29

  I stood on the shoreline, listening to the rolling of waves as the wind stirred the water, sending my hair off of my shoulders and into my face. The wind itself felt restless, charged with delight and excitement as it stirred in and out around the coast. I closed my eyes, feeling the sun on my face and drawing the energy from the surrounding elements—the water from the ocean, the earth beneath my feet, the wind on my face—and the ley lines.

  Power flowed into me, twisting and churning with a shuddering life of its own. I took a breath and focused it with my thoughts, shaped it, telling it where to go. A gust of wind slammed into me, and I took a step back, laughing.

  Easy now, I told it. You don’t want to knock me off. Do you?

  It was an incredible feeling to bend wind to my will or to create fireballs with a single word.

  But I could do it now. And then some.

  “There you are. Honestly, Tessa, I’m beginning to think you’re trying to hide from us.”

  I turned to see Dolores marching my way with a glass of red wine in her hand. Her back was straight like a sergeant major, the way she was coming, and it was a miracle she didn’t spill any on her white, flowing linen skirt. The other miracle was you could hardly tell that only two days ago she’d lain dying in her bed from a deadly curse.

  After Samara’s demise, I’d come home to a newly restored Davenport House, with its gleaming white siding and perfectly refurbished kitchen, walls, and ceilings. There wasn’t even one spec of plaster dust. It was as though the house had never been affected by Samara’s drain on its magic, as though it hadn’t been crumbling to pieces.

  Granted, I’d been in pretty bad shape when I’d arrived. I could barely remember Ronin sitting behind the wheel of the Volvo after we left Devilwood Thicket, or when Marcus put me to bed. But he did. And every time I thought about it, I blushed.

  And it was often.

  “Come now. You’re being rude to our guests,” said Dolores as she handed me the glass, shaking me out of my thoughts.

  And by guests, of course, Dolores had invited half the town.

  I looked at her face. With her rosy cheeks, her red lips and her hair pulled into a high messy bun, she looked great. You’d never have thought she’d been close to dying.

  Dolores had thrown a party in “celebration of life” as she’d called it, but to us, it was more of a “the bitch is gone” celebration.

  I cast my gaze around the grounds. Five large garden pavilions had been stockpiled with tables stacked with food, every alcoholic beverage you could think of, and giving shade to those who were firing up their grills and were singeing meat. Happy chatters filled the air and music played from several locations.

  I spotted Ronin next to one of the pavilions, chatting up a pretty dark-haired woman, who was batting her eyelashes at him, her hand on his arm while he put on his vampiric charms. I laughed and wondered if this was one of the women he was dating, or if she was new prey.

  Marcus stood with a beer in his hand, conversing with a red-faced Emmet, whose voice kept getting louder with every downed drink. Not too far was Kaito, performing the art of slicing watermelon with her curved sword to a happy audience.

  I hoped she’d rubbed some disinfectant on that sword.

  I’d never expected my aunts to welcome back two of the same Unseen who’d wanted to take Davenport House from them and invite them to this very party. A lot had changed, and I was happy about it.

  It was a grand party. And it would cost a small fortune, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about our lack of funds at the moment. Dolores looked so happy. I couldn’t do that to her, not after what she’d suffered. Tomorrow was another story.

  Together we started back toward the house.

  I took a sip of my wine. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Dolores glanced at me. “Yes. Of course.”

  “I’m from a family of White witches, right.”

  “Yes. Davenport witches are White witches.”

  I nodded. “Which means we draw power from the elements and occasionally ley lines.”

  “Yes. Yes. Is there a question in there somewhere?”

  I halted. “I told you what happened. I could control the demon dragon.”

  Dolores stopped and faced me, her eyebrow arched. “Ah. I see where you’re going with this.”

  I chose my words carefully. “The thing is,” I said, catching Marcus’s eye across the grounds, which sent my pulse beating a little faster. “I had this feeling that I could do it. That Dark magic to me, well, it’s just that. Magic. Just another branch of magic, but magic all the same.” Was he trying to eavesdrop?

  Dolores nodded. “It’s rare, but some witches can do both. White and Dark. One side will always be dominant, say more White than Dark, but the witch can use his or her multiple gifts. Tap into Dark magic whenever it’s necessary. A witch can favor the magic of the elements but still manage to summon and control demons to some degree. Like you did with the dragon demon.”

  “Obiross,” I said. “He was cute, you know. Deadly. But cute.”

  Dolores laughed.

  “So what does that make me?” My heart pounded as I waited for her to answer, hoping she had an answer.

  Dolores’s dark eyes flashed, and she said, “You, my darling niece, are what we call a Shadow witch—a witch who can dabble in both.”

  “A Shadow witch,” I repeated, testing the words on my mouth, and for some strange reason, they didn’t feel foreign at all, but rather familiar.

  A smile crept on my face. “I like it.”

  “Gilbert!” cried Dolores suddenly, her eyes on something behind me. “I need a word.” She marched over to the smaller man, who frowned at the much taller witch.

  I laughed as I made my way to one of the pavilions. I was ravenous, and I knew I needed to get some food into me before the wine hit.

  Ruth looked up as I approached. She’d braided some flowers in her hair that matched her floral-patterned dress. “Here try some of my mushroom puffs,” she said as she lifted a plate with bite-sized pastries topped with dark mushrooms.

  I grabbed one and stuffed it all in my mouth in one go. Delicious flavors burst over my tongue as I swallowed.

  “Wow,” I said. “You should open your own restaurant someday. These are fantastic.”

  Ruth beamed, a
slip of her teeth showing through her pink lips. “Have another one. Go on. Take one.”

  I did as she instructed. “You look happy,” I said, between chews. “Like you won the lottery happy. Have I missed something?”

  “We’re back on the town’s payroll,” exclaimed Ruth, her cheeks pink. She reached out and took a large sip of her white wine because I was sure it wasn’t apple juice.

  I choked on my mushroom puff. “We are?” I looked over my shoulder to Marcus, who was laughing at something Emmet was saying. I turned back around, frowning. “Well, they should have never taken you off the payroll, to begin with. That was a huge mistake.”

  “Us,” corrected Ruth. “You too, Tessa.”

  “Right.” The town’s income was very welcomed for me too. Not that I knew what that would look like since I just started here, but with some website designs and book covers on the side, we could be comfortable again.

  “We all make mistakes, dear.” Ruth popped a mushroom puff into her mouth. “It’s about learning from them,” she said around her mouth full. “And owning them.”

  I washed down some of the pastry with a sip of wine. “So, the other members of the council voted against Marcus, huh? Guess they all realized what a huge mistake it was to take you off in the first place.”

  “But they didn’t,” informed Ruth, pouring herself another generous glass of white wine. “Marcus reinstated us. Such a nice young man.”

  I spit out some of my wine, and it went flying across the table to land somewhere in the grass. “Excuse me?” Marcus had put us back on the payroll?

  “Yes, that’s right,” continued Ruth. “Marcus apologized for taking us off. Was very nice of him to do it in person, too. Poor thing. He could barely look at us straight in the eyes. You could tell he was all torn up about it.”

  “Sure he was.” I resisted the urge to turn around again and look at him. Guess he realized he needed my aunts, especially after what he’d witnessed with The Church of Midnight.

  “He was. It was so strange.” Ruth laughed. “He thought we took on jobs from other cities. Can you believe that? Don’t know whatever gave him that idea, but he didn’t know he had ruined us when he dissolved our contract with the town.” She laughed again.