Conflicted Witch (Jagged Grove Book 2)

by Willow Monroe

  He’s a werewolf who dabbles in witchcraft. I’m a witch who is engaged to another man. We’re better off friends.

  I stand up. “I’m going home. If he isn’t gone, can I come back here?”

  He smirks. “You need to talk to the man. What if I say no?”

  I raise my chin in defiance. “Then I’ll hide somewhere else.”

  “Listen - did it ever occur to you that Rachel isn’t attached to Angelo at the hip? I mean, if she wanted to kill you - which I doubt, because you’re her sister - she could just catch you outside and do it.”

  He’s right, but the problem is that she doesn’t seem to want to kill me unless she catches me with Angelo.

  “Also, did it ever occur to you that you’re more powerful than you think? Because you are. Start playing with your power more, and I think you’ll be surprised at your own skill.”

  I don’t feel powerful or skillful. I feel like I’m floundering in unfamiliar waters and about to drown. Instead of answering, I turn to go. I’m almost to the door when Jones catches my arm. “By the way, do you want to go to the party?”

  I blink. “What party?”

  “The mayor’s annual bash. Hasn’t Imala mentioned it?”

  I shake my head, trying to remember, but I know she hasn’t. “I haven’t been invited.”

  “It’s an open invitation to all Jagged Grove residents. Everybody will be there.”

  “Oh. And I want to go...why?”

  He looks annoyed again. “Because it might be good for you to try to be part of this community?”

  “Why?”

  “You know what? Never mind.” He turns away. “I’ll see you later.”

  Was he asking me to go with him on a date? He knows I’ve got Clay waiting back home...but maybe he doesn’t care. That would be just like him. I watch his broad shoulders disappear back through the house before I step out into the afternoon sun. I feel bad that I’ve hurt him.

  This has been a problem since I got here. Nobody understands that I was brought here against my will, and that makes me mad. I had a great life back in Raleigh; a new career, a great fiancée, a fabulous little apartment.

  Then, thanks to my mother’s magical antics, ASS Agent Angelo scooped us up and dropped us here, in a place full of supernaturals, that doesn’t actually exist.

  Needless to say, I’m not happy about it.

  The thing is, now that I’ve been here for a while, I’m starting to pick up some clues, and I don’t think Angelo just picked us randomly from all the supernaturals on earth. I think my father had something to do with it. The father who left before I was born, who I thought was a normal, and who is evidently...not.

  All of this makes me loathe the idea of being in Jagged Grove, even without the added pressure of practicing magic again. Nobody seems to get that part, either.

  I just want to do my time and go home, and Jones is mad because I won’t attend Mayor Callahan’s big party?

  Then I spot a flash of white through a window, where I have a view of the kitchen. Turning around, I look closer and see my owl standing on Jones’s scarred up kitchen table. I march back onto the porch and bang on the door until he opens it, then I brush past him and go into the kitchen, asking, “Why is Bumper here?” But then I see what my bird is doing - ripping apart a dead white mouse. I wrinkle my nose and turn away, back toward Jones.

  He shrugs. “He flew over on his own, and he looked hungry.”

  “And you keep mice here for guests to munch on?”

  He just shrugs again. I walk closer to the table, intending to pick up my owl and go home, but then Bumper looks up at me, and I can see a clear warning in his big orange eyes: Don’t mess with my supper.

  “Please send him home soon,” I say, and then wave goodbye and let myself out again.

  I make my way back across our lawns to Bilda’s house, bypassing the big pond. As I do, I see a tiny...fin?...sticking up out of the water, making a lazy figure eight. I squint, lean, and stare at it for a moment, then, trying not to take my eyes off it, I yell, “Bilda!”

  Movement makes me look farther, and I spot another fin on the far side, just slipping quietly through the water.

  I know she probably can’t hear me from here, so I reluctantly leave the pond and run the rest of the way to our house. “Bilda!” I yell again as I hit the back porch and crash through the rear door to the kitchen.

  Bilda is putting away leftovers, and looks up in surprise. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

  Innocently.

  “Did you conjure sharks in the pond?” I’m a little out of breath, but I still try to stare her down.

  “No! Of course not. That would be...” She pauses. Thinks. “Oh dear.”

  “Yeah. You have to fix it. Kids play near that pond, Mom.”

  “I just thought some koi would be nice. Like at that shopping center I took you to as a kid. Remember?” She looks hopeful.

  I swallow a groan. She always means well, and I need to be more patient. “Koi would be great, Mom. But we don’t have koi. We have sharks. Can you fix this before some child falls in and loses a finger?”

  “I’ll try. If not, I’ll get Imala to help.”

  For the first time, I realize that the house is quiet. “Did everyone go home?”

  She nods. “It was so nice to have all of our friends here, wasn’t it? We should do this more often.”

  “Yes, but don’t change the subject.”

  “You get so grumpy sometimes.” She peers more closely at me. “Do you have blood sugar issues?”

  “No, Mom. I have sharks-in-a-pond issues. Please?”

  She waves a hand and heads out the back door with a frown on her face. “I’m going.”

  As I watch her go, I suddenly feel exhausted. Between work on the house, hiding from Angelo, and Bilda’s weekly crisis, I think I’ve hit my limit. I go upstairs to my room and lie down on the bed, but before I can close my eyes, the sound of techno-pop fills the room.

  The twins. They’ve been living with us almost since the beginning, and while they seem to love being mothered to death by Bilda, they do fill up the little cottage. It’s another reason why I need to put on my big girl panties, confront Rachael, and move out.

  I’m just too scared right now.

  I don’t even bother to close my eyes. Instead, I get up, sit at the small desk under the window, and pull out a pen and a blank notebook. I might be avoiding Angelo, but a deal is a deal - I owe him a report.

  I chew on my pen for a minute, then decide to start by listing all of my ‘patients’ for the week. There was Mr. Kay with his cut finger, and the elder woman named only Calico, whose altar candles got out of control and set her dress on fire. Thankfully, her burns weren’t serious.

  On Thursday, Cassie Faye brought me her familiar - a chameleon, who was sitting on the cutting board watching her slice up peppers for stew when his tail got in the way. I tried to tell her that his tail would grow back on its own, but she was too hysterical to listen.

  And that was all for this week. Not much, now that I’m sitting here looking at the list.

  What I am pretty proud of is the fact that I managed to keep from actually killing anyone this week. In fact, the more I practice my magic, the more I’m able to control it, and hopefully there won’t be any more incidents like the one where I accidentally killed my high school boyfriend.

  Hopefully.

  I’d still rather be back home, living my life as a normal.

  I sign my name, then write and underline the words DON’T CONTACT ME, ANGELO! in bold. He won’t listen, or at least, he hasn’t yet. That’s why he still shows up on our doorstep every other day, regardless of my wishes.

  As I slip the report into an envelope, a knock on the door makes me jump. “Yes?” I call, hoping it’s Bilda, coming in to tell me that the sharks are gone.

  Instead, Rain sticks her head in. “Got a minute?” she asks quietly.

  “Yeah, sure.” I spin around in my cheap office chai
r. “What’s up?”

  “Well...” She bats her long black eyelashes, looking embarrassed, but then comes in and sits down on the edge of my bed. I wait, feeling a touch uneasy. Rain isn’t normally a timid girl, at least not lately. “I’ve been helping out at the clinic...”

  “I know, and you’re doing a fantastic job, Rain. I don’t know what I’d do without your help. All of you.”

  It’s true. Since Angelo gave me this assignment, I’ve needed all the help I can get. Rain and Glade both do a great job helping out, and Bilda even pops in now and again to see how things are going. Between us, we’ve not come across anyone that we can’t help. There’s only one rule - Bilda can use her knowledge of herbs and crystals, but she isn’t allowed to cast spells.

  Her track record sucks.

  “I’m glad we get to hang out there...” her eyes slide away to the floor.

  “But...?” I ask, knowing that there is something more coming.

  She takes a deep breath, still not looking at me. “But I’d like to become a healer, like you.”

  I stare at her for a second, not sure that I’ve heard her correctly. “Like me?” I ask finally. The idea that someone like Rain, with her black clothes and hair and deep emotional scars, looks up to me - well, that’s a lot to take in. I’m still not used to practicing magic openly, and here she is wanting to do what I do? “Wow, kiddo. I don’t know.”

  She huffs and pushes up off the bed, talking fast. “OK, then. Sorry to bother you. It was just a dumb idea.”

  I lunge from my chair and catch her arm before she makes it out of the room. “No! Wait. I didn’t mean that I’m saying no, just that...well, can I think about it?”

  She nods.

  “I’m just not a very good healer, Rain. I have to wonder if there is someone more, you know, qualified.”

  Her gaze meets mine, something that doesn’t happen often. “You’re great, though, and you don’t lecture me, and you don’t treat me like I’m some dumb kid. Bilda doesn’t either. That’s why I like you guys, and that’s one of the reasons I’d like to do what you do.” Her dark eyes are pleading now. “Please say yes? Please?”

  I open my mouth, close it again, and swallow hard, plagued by an onslaught of doubt. Could I even do this? I’m not a good healer, and what if I turn out to suck as a teacher, too? Poor Rain will be devastated.

  “Just give me a day to think about it, OK?”

  She squeals and jumps up and down, just like a little kid. I smile and hope I’m not making a really stupid mistake. “Thank you! Oh, this is going to be so great.”

  Funny - I’m not nearly as excited about it as she is right now. In fact, I can see disaster ahead. “I haven’t said yes yet. Let me think.”

  I shoo her out of my room and finish getting Angelo’s report ready, then decide to go ahead and drop it off with Portia down at the Salty Hog.

  As I walk, I see that the town is coming back together nicely. The mangled playground equipment at Killswallow Park has been replaced, and most of the main docks along the sea have been rebuilt. Even this late in the evening, people are repairing roofs and siding that got blown off by Rachel’s storm. I’m thankful that when I pass by, they don’t look at me with blame in their eyes. In fact, a few people even wave and offer a smile.

  The setting sun over Mt. Savage in the distance creates a striking backdrop to the laid-back town. The red and pink sky cast a glow over the streets, and I notice that streetlights are starting to come on, buzzing quietly in the still, warm air.

  I would love it here, if I had come of my own free will.

  The Salty Hog is the rowdier of two establishments here in Jagged Grove and the only one that serves alcohol, so it’s popular, even on a Sunday evening. As I step inside, I see that Mayor Callahan is in the corner with Wisp and several others. Wisp, cuddled in beside her finance Scott Travine, shoots me the same look of contempt that she always does before turning back to her father.

  I’m not worried about Wisp, or Rive Callahan, or anyone else here. I just need to drop off my report and go home. Portia - fan of Angelo and maker of love potions - sees me coming toward the bar and rolls her eyes before turning away to wash a few glasses in the large sink.

  Every week so far, she’s pretended to ignore me, making me work to get her attention. I hate that she sees me as a rival, because I think we could be friends if I could convince her that I’m not interested in Angelo.

  I lean on the hammered copper bar top and tap my fingers. “Portia? You know I’m here.”

  She twitches a shoulder but doesn’t move.

  “Portia?”

  Nothing. Then a sigh, but she still won’t turn around.

  “Portia? You can have him. I don’t want him. I just want to drop off my report, because he asked me to...”

  She turns around slowly, eyes flashing. “Find someone else to deliver it.”

  “Who? This is the only place I know where he’ll definitely turn up, sooner or later. Please, Portia?”

  She huffs, walks over to face me, and holds out a slender hand that’s rough from hard work. I place the envelope into it carefully, then notice that there’s a bit of swelling and darkness along her smaller fingers.

  I look up at her. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.” She snatches her hand away, clutching the envelope. I don’t miss the way she winces when her fingers close. “Just bruised it.”

  “If you want, stop by the office tomorrow, and I’ll get Bilda to put an herbal compress on it.”

  “It’s fine,” she says. I seem to be bothering her, as usual.

  “Are you sure? It’s no problem, and it might save you some pain.”

  “I said it’s fine.” She slaps the envelope down on the counter and turns away again. I’ve been dismissed.

  I want to order a drink, but then think better of it. I have too much to think about right now, so drowning my sorrows isn’t really in the cards at the moment.

  I can feel Wisp staring at me as I walk back out into the warmer evening air and scan for any sign of Angelo. Jones is right - I’m eventually going to have to face him - just not yet. Not until I can feel safe from Rachel.

  And there’s really only one way to do that.

  I stand on the small front porch of the Salty Hog and look up the street, toward the house.

  “Where have you been?”

  I freeze. Angelo. Now what?

  I take a deep breath, give him a smile, then I do what comes instinctively. I run.

  “Trinket!” he calls, but he doesn’t follow me, and for that I’m grateful.

  TWO

  “So what do you think?” Rain asks me, hoisting herself up on my one and only exam table. Today she’s dressed in a black t-shirt, black jeans and red boots. The outfit is still moody, but much better than the depressing rags she was wearing the first time I met her.

  The office is empty for the moment, giving me time to work on cataloguing all of Rachel’s herbs and concoctions. There is a lot here that I don’t recognize, and those I set aside for Bilda to name and label.

  I’ve been avoiding the subject all morning. Rain wants me to teach her, but I’m still struggling to learn how my magic works and how to control its power. I still worry about accidentally killing someone.

  I give her a small smile. “Let me talk to Bilda about it. She’s got a lot more experience with stuff like this, and she’ll know whether it’s a good idea or not.”

  “Of course it’s a good idea!” Rain tugs on her long black pony tail in exasperation. “You’re leaving soon, right?”

  “Not for a year, unless I can talk Angelo into an early release.”

  “But you are going, eventually, and then Jagged Grove won’t have a healer anymore.”

  She has a point, unless... “Angelo might find someone.”

  “I doubt it. Contrary to what you think, Angelo isn’t a bad guy who kidnaps people off the street and brings them here.”

  “Oh yeah?” I counter. Actually,
now that I suspect he brought me here at the request of my previously unknown father, I’m pretty sure she’s right.

  “Yeah. He’s a nice man, and he likes you. Why don’t you give him a chance?”

  I don’t answer her, because I can’t. My attraction to him is all tangled up in my anger about being here, my grief about leaving everything behind, and my fear of Rachel. There is too much going on, and no time to process all of it. Nothing makes sense right now, so I just concentrate on re-learning my magic and helping people, so that I can earn my way home to Clay and my law degree.

  Glade sticks his head in through the exam room door, long black hair swinging. “You have a patient.”

  Rain and I look at one another, and I push myself up off the small stool I’ve been sitting on. “Coming,” I say. “Put them in my office.”

  There is something in Glade’s eyes that I can’t quite name. “It’s a her. She, I mean.”

  “Okaaay...put her in my office.”

  He disappears back through the door. I look at Rain. “Was that weird?”

  She shrugs. “Sort of.”

  Things become a little clearer when I go to meet my new patient. She is a she, about Glade’s age, and she’s very pretty. In my old world, I would wonder if she was a cheerleader.

  “Hello,” I say, shaking her hand before sitting on the other side of my desk. “I’m Trinket.”

  “I’m Candace,” she says, staring at my desk. “I need some help. With girl stuff.”

  Her words are timid, but I think I can understand that part. “OK. Have you talked to your mother?”

  Her head comes up. “No!”

  “Why not?” The last thing I want to do is get involved in a family squabble.

  “She doesn’t...I’m already...um...yeah.” Her eyes beg for me to make sense of the jumble of words.

  “Are you already sexually active?”

  She nods. She looks terrified.

  “OK. Uh...is there one boyfriend, or more than one?”

  Her face goes dark. “You sound just like my mom. I only have one boyfriend. We’re in love.”

  “Oh.” Poor Glade. I can see him peeking in from the waiting room, but I don’t know if he can hear us. If he has a crush, like I think, he’s going to be heartbroken. “Well, I just needed to ask. Now, do you need birth control?”