Every Witch Way but Wicked

by Barbra Annino

  Of course, not as handsome as Cole. But then, few men were.

  “I remember some things from my father’s journals,” Morgan said. “I don’t have a poppet, hence I had to make your true form materialize.”

  Morgan’s fingers moved swiftly. She grabbed some mirrors from the nearby dresser and quickly placed them around Batanga. Once his image was reflected in all of them, she pulled a small hammer out of her belt, leaned forward, and smashed the mirrors.

  “I call upon the Ancient Ones from the great abyss to do my bidding. I invoke Cuthalu, God of Anger, and all the creatures of the underworld to hear me now…

  Bones of Anger, Bones of Dust

  Full of fury, Revenge is just

  Return this one to whence he came.”

  Batanga’s body started to quiver and shake. Morgan’s eyes traveled swiftly around the room. At last she saw it, far off in one corner – a tiny patch of gray energy. Morgan stood before it, waving her arms back and forth.

  “Mulhala, Inswoldi. Return him to whence he came.”

  A loud shriek emitted from the patch of gray, and then the room brightened, as if a thousand light-bulbs had suddenly gone off at once. Batanga let out a terrified shriek as many balls of energy emerged from the opening and descended upon him. They covered him, bathing him in their light, and then lifted him up. In one swift movement, the pinpricks of energy carried Batanga through the gray opening.

  Morgan moved swiftly, removing magnetized stakes from her belt and a small hammer. She pounded the stakes into the opening, securely so that the spirits could never cross over again. When she was finished, she sat back on her haunches and surveyed her handiwork.

  “That’s the end of you, Batanga,” Morgan murmured. “Your spirit won’t be able to break through the magnetized barrier. You’re trapped with the ghosts of your past forever.”

  From a great distance, Morgan heard a soft, feminine voice.

  Thank you.

  Morgan smiled. “You’re very welcome, Daisy.”

  She rose, slinging her belt over one arm. She paused mid-stride at the slight vibration in her pants pocket and pulled out her phone, glanced at the text message.

  Done with your ghostbusting? R we on for dinner? Happy Samhain, BTW

  Cole

  Morgan looked at the message and smiled. She’d almost forgotten what day it was. And what better way to spend Halloween than giving an evil Bokor just what he deserved—and more? Morgan’s fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard.

  Sure am. Dinner sounds great. Happy Samhain to you, too.

  “Yep,” she chuckled. “Looks like the trick’s on you, Batanga. Now it’s time for my treat.”

  Morgan’s lips curved upward as she started for the front door. In her mind, there was no better way to celebrate Samhain. What could top it? As far as she was concerned, nothing in this universe – or beyond – could.

  Just like that popular commercial—dinner with Cole, the vampire she loved—priceless.

  The End

  About Toni LoTempio

  Hello! I’m Toni LoTempio, author of Paranormal Romance/Romantic Suspense/YA Fantasy! I’ve been writing ever since I was old enough to read, when I didn’t like the endings of the stories my mother read me I simply rewrote them Even though I write mainly in the paranormal genre, I have also written straight horror, as well as contemporary romance/suspense.

  In 1995, I joined the staff of SUSABELLA PASSENGERS AND FRIENDS, a pulp magazine for collectors of antique children’s literature (Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, etc.). I joined the staff of NIGHT OWL REVIEWS IN January 2011 as the suspense reviewer/columnist. My column, DARK STREETS, which features articles on suspense authors and their novels, is featured on a monthly basis. I love to spotlight new talent, so if you’re a suspense author, please contact me!

  After having a few novels published by small press, I took the plunge in 2010 on the advice of author HP Mallory and self-published NO REST FOR THE WICCA, the tale of a Wiccan witch with a voodoo background and a hot vampire boyfriend. The story in this anthology, BLACK MAGIC WICCAN, takes place after the events in NO REST.

  I love hearing from fans, so please feel free to friend me on FACEBOOK, and visit my website, www.tonilotempio.webs.com My blogging cat, Rocco, and I post daily M-F on his blog, www.catsbooksmorecats.blogspot.com

  RIANA’S REVENGE

  by

  Dale Mayer

  Chapter One

  The Gods hated her.

  Who else would send Bronan, her ex-best friend, her ex-life partner to be, and now her ex-love, as her examiner, her judge on this day—potentially her last day on earth? Not only did she face a challenge for ownership of her House and all the families within, but it was her day of Awakening. The last hours before her birthday when she’d gain her skills and powers that would stay with her for life.

  Only this would take place after the challenge.

  Like she said, the Gods hated her.

  “Riana, Hydromancer of the 1st degree, representative of the House of Sarlagon, step forward please.”

  Bronan’s voice slid through the dense blackness. Anger warred with the sense of loss at the smoothness of his voice. Standing in the shadows, Riana swallowed hard. The arena was so large she couldn’t see the seats or their occupants surrounding her. Hesitate and it was over. She knew that, but it didn’t make her feet move any faster. Still, show weakness and her opponent would gain the edge.

  Picking up her floor-skimming gold and white robes and tossing her long midnight braid over her shoulder, she took a solid step forward. Straight into the circle of light.

  Murmurs whispered through the darkness in an ever-growing circle. So she wasn’t what they expected, huh? No surprise. Her people kept low profiles. At less than 5 feet high and barely a hundred pounds, she looked tiny, childlike. An easy mark. A target.

  “Do you agree to represent your House in this challenge?”

  Challenge? Is that what one called it? She’d have used the word slaughter.

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  Among the audience, shocked ripples mingled with laughter, anticipation and a growing anger. The elders were council members, but there was always an audience of thrill seekers looking for a show. They’d expected a fight. Not this. Not her.

  “Are you aware of the charge levied against you?”

  She nodded.

  “How do you respond to the charge?”

  An air of anticipation swept through the house.

  Riana lifted her chin. “I am the rightful Head of Sarlagon House. My documentation is in order and has been handed to the authorities to back up my claim.”

  “She lies!”

  For the first time, Riana turned to face her accuser. Her mind reeled. Ector, Bronan’s father—a bully, a destroyer, a killer. Fate was laughing her head off—again. Ector had tried to steal the House of Sarlagon from her mother years ago. Now he was back to try and steal it from the daughter. Figures. Ector had a bad name in her elemental world. His house worked fire, consumed everything in its path. Hers worked water, gave life to everyone and everything. Many would say they could never get along. Some would say they were born to be natural enemies. Or born partners. Bronan worked energy. He had no affinity for flames. Still, he’d managed to burn her—badly.

  Bronan spoke up. “Ector, Warrior of Huron House, do you wish to proceed with your challenge?

  “I do.”

  Riana snorted. No hesitation on his part. He couldn’t wait. The seven-foot warrior almost frothed at the mouth. He figured she’d be easy. Have her at his mercy within minutes, then in exchange for her life, he’d want her as a slave. That wouldn’t end well.

  “The council requests a moment.” Several elders gathered together while Riana and Ector stood and waited.

  Riana didn’t know what the council was arguing on, but she refused to let Ector steal her House. The last hydromancer Priestess, Riana’s mother, had died just over a decade ago. Riana would be the next, the only Prieste
ss of her people.

  Except she was a year too young to ascend to rule. She was almost nineteen. Her birthday was at midnight tonight. All Hallows’ Eve. She had to be twenty to rule the House or she had to prove she was strong enough to keep what she held.

  Hence the challenge.

  Normally by the age of twenty, she’d have completed her hydromancer training. With the passing of her mother, there’d been no one left to train her. But she was strong. No one knew how strong, including herself. A triumph today would cement her status, her title and stop any others from attempting to take over her House. At least for awhile. Should she lose – well, she wouldn’t go there. To have Bronan be part of the judicial team was unacceptable. Surely his father being the challenger was grounds to have him removed.

  “Don’t bother.”

  Riana gasped, her eyes darting toward Bronan and then away. Damn it. Why couldn’t she catch a break? When had he learned to mindspeak?

  “My skills, like yours, have increased.”

  Off center, Riana trembled. No. This couldn’t be. She shook her head and opened her mouth to protest to the council.

  “No. Don’t try to get rid of me. You need to trust me. You don’t know what you’re up against.”

  “Trust you?” It was all she could do to stop herself from glaring in his direction. The rules of their relationship hadn’t changed. The basic underlying conflict from those tumultuous months—no one could know. His rule, not hers. She’d wanted to tell the world. He’d wanted to keep it quiet. Because…he hadn’t planned on sticking around.

  “You don’t understand. I had to leave. We couldn’t be together. Once my father suspected us, it was the only way to keep you safe.”

  She closed her eyes, tremors racking her body. Dear God. How could she focus on what she faced right now? She couldn’t. Not with him there. She had to get rid of him.

  “No. Get over it, and fast. If it isn’t my father, it will be someone else. Huron house is just the first to issue the challenge. Your House is rich and ready for the picking. You must be careful here. Consider letting the House fall to save yourself. This challenge is to the death.”

  “Then say goodbye to your father.” Her response came fast and instinctive.

  Bravado? Maybe. How had it gotten to this? Of course, she knew. Her mother’s death had sent them all into isolation. To hide from those that would try to conquer them. They’d kept the visitors away and the signs of disease on their doors and windows. Her mother’s energy, her magic, had been strong, lasting long after her death, helping to protect the House as they waited for Riana to grow up.

  But no pressure.

  Everything had been fine. For years, the women of the House had been lulled into a false sense of security. Then last week an intruder had broken in the compound. One of Ector’s men. He’d escaped before they could capture him. They should have killed him at first sight.

  “You couldn’t have. You are a healer. That’s your gift. To gift life, not death.”

  Bronan’s voice filled her mind, making her close her eyes against the compassionate understanding. He’d always understood. She’d never felt so alone as when he’d left. His desertion had devastated her.

  “You must not fight. Relinquish your rights and let him take over. He will preserve the House. He needs them. He needs the women,” Bronan argued frantically.

  “He will abuse them, enslave them. He is your father. You know this.”

  Silence.

  “Too late. It’s started.”

  Chapter Two

  She could only see the three council members standing on either side of Ector back in the same lit circle she’d stood in before. The hundreds of others, although there, were hidden in the darkness of the vast arena.

  Riana jumped in first. “As the one challenged, I request a decision from the council on the documentation I provided this day.” Riana kept her voice clear and controlled as it moved through the vast space.

  “I need to understand why is it you believe I am not the rightful Head of the House of Sarlagon,” Riana said.

  Ector faced her. Gloating snaked through his voice, his face rabid with avarice. “Only those passed directly down from the old Priestess and those before her can hold the title. Without the genetics, you have no power. Without the title, you are only one more of the many Learners. Without the power and title, the House will fall to others. Me.”

  Her spine stiffened. The challenge to her own birthright was something Riana never had considered.

  “Why do you feel that my mother was not my mother?” she asked, proud of her presentation. Her voice, calm and sure, hid the clambering of her insides.

  “Because should she be your mother, then I would be your father. Your rightful place is at my side. And not as priestess of House of Sarlagon.” His voice almost gentled – as if heavily used steel could be gentle. “I have tried to speak to the elders of your house many times. They would not listen.”

  Shock, overwhelming in clarity, was like a bullet coming out of nowhere and killing her dead. What nonsense was he talking now? “My birthright has never been questioned before. You choose now, when my mother isn’t here to defend herself, on the eve of my nineteenth birthday, when I would rightfully claim my path to Priestess, to speak these words of spite. You, a powerful warrior, choose the days when I, a nothing to you, am weakest. Just before the gaining of my powers?” she scoffed.

  The elders’ whispers grew, a whistling murmur circling her.

  “You are not nineteen. You are seventeen,” he cried out passionately. “If you were her daughter, you would have already shown the others that you possess her skills. You have no skills. You are only a Learner. Nothing more.”

  She was on firmer ground here. He was mistaken. Her powers had shown up. More would arrive before midnight. Today. In fact, just hours away. At her Awakening . Ector had to have known. Had to have timed this challenge specifically for when she’d be the most vulnerable – just before the event.

  Did Bronan know?

  “No. I do now.”

  “And you say that should I be as useless as you say I am, then you are not my father. Yet if I were her daughter with all her talents, that would make you my father? Make up your mind.”

  He struggled to contain the emotions sliding across his face. “You must accept. Your mother kept you hidden. Kept you away from me. She didn’t want you to find out. She believed she could turn you into what she wanted you to be, in spite of what she called your other genetics.”

  Other genetics? Daughter? She paused. Bronan. Oh my God.

  “Exactly. We are brother and sister. Our relationship is forbidden.”

  She faced him, her heart trying to escape from her chest. It’s not true. “How could you not have told me about this?”

  “It is the truth. We are siblings.”

  Riana closed her eyes, almost swaying as she understood the months of pain they’d both endured. And hadn’t needed to. “No, we are not. I have proof.”

  “Now. Relinquish your rights to the House of Aragon,” Ector roared. “You are my daughter. You belong to Huron House.”

  She turned to address Ector. Placing her hands together, in the form of respect to the elders, she bowed her head. “I must decline. I am the First Daughter of Sarlagon House. I am the daughter of Nissa, old Priestess of Sarlagon. The child of whom you speak died before seeing her first sunrise. That pregnancy brought on the end of my mother. Her health declined thereafter.” She stared at him, the truth shining from her eyes. “You have challenged me to the right to take over my house. I accept your challenge.”

  She turned and walked away.

  “Don’t do this,” Ector cried. “You are my daughter. Don’t force me to kill my own child.”

  She bowed her head, paused in the act of taking the next step. She straightened. “You have challenged the person you believe to be your daughter, knowing that you would bring about her death—yet you chose to go ahead. Having accepted the cha
llenge, I can see your distress at the unexpected. I doubt it is due to the prospect of killing your daughter, but I could be wrong,” she said smoothly. “Therefore, I have a request … and a solution. Instead of fighting me, allow your son, Bronan, to fight in your stead.”

  Dead silence.

  Then the roar from the elders filled the arena. She could barely see the shadows shift with agitation. She had no trouble feeling the shock and anger in the air. The color bleached from Ector’s skin. “What? You wish to fight my son? Then your death is assured.”

  “Mayhap,” she replied coolly. “However, should I win, then he becomes mine…to do with as I wish.”

  The gasp in her mind made her smile.

  Fury built on the older man’s face. “You play with me. You mock this challenge. You mock the council. There is no hope for you against my son. He is the next Lord of Huron House. You cannot defeat him in battle.” His roar almost made her wince.

  “What game are you playing at?” Bronan whispered aghast.

  “It’s your turn to trust me. Do you remember the last thing you said to me?”

  Silence filled her mind.

  Then, when she was afraid he wouldn’t answer, as soft as a baby’s breath, as gentle as a dove, he whispered, “I love you.”

  The words filled her heart, bringing shivers of joy to her soul. She’d been so lost. So bereft without him.

  “Did you mean it?” she couldn’t help asking.

  “It is forbidden.”

  “No. It’s not. I’m not your sister. He fathered my sister, not me.” Bronan needed to trust her.

  “He says you are.”

  “He’s a bitter man who has lusted after that which he could not have all those years ago. He does not challenge me to bring his daughter to his side; he challenges me to take over the House of Sarlagon. He made a bid to take over when my mother was alive. She was powerful and held him off. It didn’t work then and it won’t work now.”

  “He wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “He would do anything to keep you tied to him and away from the clutches of another House of Sarlagon whore. I have my mother’s journals. She wrote of his seduction, her pregnancy, his blackmail for the House, the battle for power and her injuries that caused the death of her child. His child. He killed his own child.”