Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3)

by Margarita Gakis

  The idea scared Jade. Being Seth’s enemy would be worse than being his ‘friend,’ so she should be grateful. Probably. Mostly. It made her shoulder blades itch.

  “Why are you telling me all this now? What’s about to happen?” Seth liked to show up right before things started going pear-shaped.

  He waggled a finger, making a sort of tsk-tsk sound. “No spoilers. Just… keep our friendship in mind.”

  Before Jade could argue, he was gone. A strange shimmer rising from his body, like heat waves coming off a pavement. Bruce waddled over to the pantry door, raised his snout high and sniffed. He spat three more times and then waddled away, a haughty swing in his step.

  Jade wished it was as easy for her to turn her back on the place Seth stood, but it wasn’t.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Feeling shaky from dealing with Seth and her impending nervous breakdown, Jade needed to get out of her head for a while. Saturday wasn’t always a running day, but she wanted something that would tire her body out, burn off some anxiety and clear her head. She pulled on her running outfit, wincing at the wrinkles. She did laundry pretty regularly since she only had limited things with her at the Coven. She was tired of washing her stuff so often. This week she’d left her clean clothes in the laundry basket and it clearly showed. Her entire outfit was wrinkled and frumpy. Well, she wasn’t going to look good, she was going for a workout. It would do.

  Twenty minutes later, she was at the Nature Preserve and ready to run. She decided she’d stick to the outskirts, maybe do some sprints or find a few small hills to work on her stamina. She could do whatever she felt like today, not having to worry about holding Daniel back.

  Even staying on the outskirts of the Preserve, she could feel the low level pull of the lake. Jade sprinted a little faster, pushing herself despite the sick feeling growing in her stomach. This was total bullshit. She just wanted to run. She needed to do something she was good at, and running was usually it. She wasn’t a great runner or a fantastic athlete, but she could put one foot in front of the other and when she was done, she’d feel proud about getting a workout in. That’s all she wanted today. A happy, easy feeling. Instead, her head throbbed, out of step with her pace. Her lungs burned. Her breath came out wheezes. She turned up her music, wanting to drown out the sound of herself, but it couldn’t drown out the pull of the lake. Tears sprung to her eyes and she dashed them away with her gloved fingers. She just wanted to get away, go away, be away.

  A choked-off sob escaped her throat and she stopped, putting her hands on her hips, breathing hard as she tried to slow her heart rate down. Now she was crying in the middle of a running trail. Awesome. All it would take to make her day more fantastic would be if someone from the Coven were to come along and catch her having her little pity party in the middle of the woods. This was a total failure.

  She headed home, not bothering to run, just keeping a steady walking pace. Her shoulder blades itched, like there was something watching her and she flexed her muscles trying to alleviate the sensation. Stupid fucking lake. It was like a bass note drawn out too long and deep - thrumming inside her chest.

  Back at her cottage, she kicked off her shoes viciously, wincing when one left a scuff mark and small dent in the drywall. Perfect. Just perfect. Now she’d have to get some putty for that. She dragged herself up the stairs, her legs rubbery and her lungs scooped out and hollow. If she thought she could sleep, Jade would crawl back into bed. Forget groceries, forget cleaning, forget anything that wasn’t just lying in bed with the covers over her head, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist.

  She talked herself into a quick shower and got angry when she realized she was out of shower gel. Fine. Shampoo would work just as well for soap. Her skin felt weird and dry when she got out, but she could deal. She just had to pick clothes for the day and get going. She stared at her laundry basket and the wrinkly clothes within. She’d been wearing those things for weeks. They were wrinkled and they were worn and she was tired. She’d never gone back to get her things after she decided to stay at the Coven. She’d originally only brought a suitcase worth of clothes. Clothes that she was now sick of wearing. Clothes she might want to burn. She’d gotten some new things at the mall with Callie and Henri - some tops and a pair of pants, but she hadn’t wanted to buy too much. She had clothes. Lots of clothes. She just didn’t have them here.

  She heard the ‘thumpa-thumpa-thumpa’ of Bruce coming into the bedroom before she felt the wet poke of his snout on her leg. He hopped up on the bed, his weight causing it to dip down. He looked up at Jade, his tongue flicking out.

  “Pffffft.”

  “I don’t have any of my things.”

  Bruce settled on the bed, going low to his belly, his eyes flickering at her. He looked at the laundry basket then back at her.

  “Well, yeah, I’ve got that, but that’s like… vacation shit. I miss my stuff.” She took a deep breath. “I should go get it. Make it official. Move here. It’s stupid to keep living like this. Like I’m stuck. Like I’m in two places.” She toed the edge of the laundry basket. “Like I think I’m two people.” Jade tried to swallow past the ache in her throat, looking up at the ceiling to keep the moisture in her eyes from turning to tears. Bruce shuffled closer to the edge of the bed, coming toward her.

  “Pfffft.”

  “Crying isn’t going to help anything. It doesn’t get stuff done.” She settled her hands on her hips and swallowed a few more times, taking a deep breath. Counting to ten. Not thinking about Lily.

  “Okay.” She breathed out on a long, slow exhale. “Okay,” she repeated. “It might be nice to just get away for a bit. Clear my head.”

  Bruce’s tongue flicked out again and Jade took a step toward the bed, settling her hand on his head, feeling the warm, supple scales under her fingers.

  “Not from you, bud. I’d like to take you with me, but I’ll need the room in my car on the way back for my stuff.” Her heart clenched at the thought of leaving him. “You’ll be okay while I’m gone, right? Hang out here and do lizard things?”

  He blinked at her, pushing his head into her hand.

  “If you need something, you can go to Paris’ place.” She paused. “You’ve got that whole ‘magical creature’ thing going on, I’m sure you could find it.” His tongue came out and touched her hand and she took that as a ‘yes.’ Jade felt surprisingly confident in Bruce’s abilities, perhaps more than her own. “And I’ll only be gone long enough to pack some stuff and shut the apartment down. Just the weekend.”

  Bruce’s tail thumped once on the bedspread and then wagged it a bit. Jade forced herself to take another deep, calming breath.

  “So that’s the plan.”

  #

  Paris found it both amusing and somewhat irksome that members of the Coven seemed surprised to find him in the grocery store. Invariably, at least one person asked him, “What are you doing here?”, to which Paris was forced to inanely respond that he was purchasing groceries. What else would he be doing in the supermarket? Hunting elephants? He was Coven Leader, but he was still just a person, subject to the same laws and rules as everyone else. That included grocery shopping.

  It was also trying at times when people brought up work items when he was trying to run his errands. Not that Coven Leader was a position he ever truly left at the office. Indeed his mother often drilled into his head that Coven Leader was a 24/7 position. But, there were simply some matters that Paris felt were not pressing enough to be brought to his attention while he was in the dairy aisle. Like the strange smell coming from a neighbor’s house - something that Janice Perkins was adamant was urgent business.

  “I’m sure if you bring it up to your neighborhood Coven representative, they can investigate it, if necessary,” Paris said, trying to keep his tone soothing and neutral.

  “I’ve tried that, but there doesn’t seem to be any sort of regulation on using cheap or fake essential oils,” Janice argued. She was blocking the way out of
the dairy aisle, her small five-foot-two frame doing a surprisingly apt job of keeping Paris and his cart in place. “Don’t you agree that substandard ingredients are the sloppy witch’s crutch? Sloppy in the spell is sloppy in the smell, my mother used to always say.”

  Paris did his best to school his features. “I appreciate that. However, as there is no official rule on the use of artificial scents, there’s not much that can be done.”

  Janice’s mouth twisted into a frown and she made a sort of ‘harrumph’ sound. “Well, I don’t recall this being a problem when your mother was Coven Leader. I’m sure she had some sort of mandate or ban on it.”

  Perhaps she had, Paris thought. When he first became Coven Leader, he honestly wondered how his mother had done it and managed to raise him as well. She’d been a strong Coven Leader - well-loved, knowledgeable and firm. She’d been the same as a mother.

  However, since finding the demon grimoires, he couldn't help but wonder how much there was that he didn’t know about her. Maybe she had a ban out on fake oils. Or perhaps she’d cast some kind of spell to keep them from being used. Reading her demon grimoires and seeing her familiar handwriting detailing out darker spells and demon runes, it was quite possible. He wondered how many secrets she kept.

  “I will look into that.”

  Janice screwed up her lips again, her face a moue of displeasure. “Well, I’ll be following up.”

  I’m sure you will. Paris managed a polite nod of his head. “It’s good of Coven members to stay on top of magic. We do best when we all work together.”

  She seemed satisfied by his platitudes, nodding her head firmly back at him before finally moving aside, allowing Paris to escape. He pushed his cart around the corner, stopping when he saw Callie in the next aisle, smirking at him. She waited a few minutes, listening to the sound of Janice’s squeaky sneakers moving away from them before she spoke.

  “The essential oils smell?” Callie asked, eyebrows raised. She hitched the small hand basket she carried, settling the weight of it on her hip.

  “I take it you’ve heard.”

  “Oh, the entire neighborhood and half the Coven have heard. The thing is, I don’t even think it’s witchcraft. I think her neighbor has those fake scented pine cones from the craft store for decoration.”

  Paris’ nose wrinkled as he thought of the false-spicy scent used in those items. “Why on earth would anyone want to have those?”

  Callie gave him a knowing look. “That entire family’s nostrils have been burned out by the dad’s cologne. I think it’s supposed to be spicy, but mostly kind of smells like salami.”

  Paris was sure his face was a mirror of the look of distaste on Callie’s.

  “I know,” she said nodding. “But it’s true. Salami.” She paused a beat and then said, “I thought you’d be out with Jade this weekend working on her magic.”

  Paris frowned. “No, we didn’t have plans. Why?”

  “Oh, well, I tried calling her a couple times and there was no answer. I mean, it’s not like she has a lot of places to go and she’s pretty good at picking up her cell even when she’s out and about.” Callie shrugged. “I figured the only thing that would keep her from it was magic. She gets really focused on it.”

  “No, I’ve not seen her today and as I said, we didn’t have plans. I thought I might stop by later, but I didn’t set anything officially. Did you swing by her place?”

  Callie made a so-so motion with her hand. “Kind of. She’s got those demon locks and I can’t get by them. Henri and I can usually make it part-way up her walkway but after that, we get sort of stuck.”

  “I can swing by after I’m done here. The last time I was there, I think she spelled them to let me through.”

  Callie raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

  “Yes. Don’t give me that look. I happened to be there and she re-shuffled the magic at the time.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to. I’ve known you since you were four. I can read your face.”

  “And is it saying ‘I think she likes you and you like her’?” Callie batted her eyelashes. Paris rolled his rolled his eyes.

  “Of course we like each other. We work together and I’m helping her with her magic.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  Paris ignored her comment. “I’ll stop by and see if she’s there. Perhaps her phone is off, or she’s out running errands and forgot it at home or something simple.”

  “Okay. You’ll let me know what you find out?”

  “Of course.”

  “And you’ll stop being such a chicken-shit and think about what I said?” Callie gave him a knowing look again.

  “You’re horrid to me,” he said, his face deadpan. “I don’t know why we’re friends.”

  Callie took her middle finger and scratched up and down her nose, clearly making the rude gesture at him as she said, “Oh yeah? Can you tell what my face is saying now?” She couldn’t keep a straight face, bursting out laughing as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. She maneuvered around his cart. “Keep me posted,” she called out over her shoulder, before disappearing down the aisle.

  He finished up quickly, getting stopped twice more by Coven members with problems similarly as ‘urgent’ as Janice Perkins’ odor issue. Finally, groceries packed in the car, he was ready to swing past Jade’s house. He didn’t figure it would take long - he’d likely find her in her cottage, her phone off or not charged. Or she wouldn’t be at home, but he could set his mind at ease and check that her place appeared undisturbed.

  When he got to Jade’s and started up the walkway, the strange demon magic that she had securing her house parted for him, making him think of gears turning through thick molasses - heavy and slow. It seemed to take longer for the locks to recognize him, adjust and then let him through. The demon magic felt slightly dirty as well - like a slick oil or sludge he couldn’t quite get off his fingers. Paris doubted that Jade felt that aspect of it. She seemed to rather like the demon magic, sometimes preferring it to other spells. For a moment, it was as though the spells broke, freeing the space around him before they snapped back into place. Whatever was wrong with Jade may be affecting her locks as well.

  He knocked sharply on her door, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. He knocked once more before trying the handle and finding it unlocked. He couldn’t say he was surprised. Jade had such a preference for demon magic, he doubted she ever used her keys anymore, relying on the security of her demon locks instead.

  Paris poked his head in through the door. “Hello? Jade? Bruce?”

  Silence.

  Stepping in, he closed the door behind him. Nothing felt wrong or amiss, but the place did have an empty feel to it. Paris stretched his magic out, searching for Jade’s energy. He felt a slight pull from upstairs and called out again. After getting nothing in reply, he slowly made his way up the stairs.

  He wasn’t trying to be quiet, but he wasn’t making an exceptional amount of noise either. Any minute now, Paris was sure Jade would pop out of one of the rooms upstairs.

  Nothing happened. No Jade bursting out of a room. No yelling.

  Although he did hear a thump from the bedroom.

  Paris knocked and then opened the door slowly. He paused, feeling like a voyeur as he looked around her room.

  A laundry basket was in front of the bed with some clothes strewn about on the mattress, but not the duvet or the pillows. Seeing some fabric peeking out from the closet, he stepped closer and pulled the closet door open. Inside he found the pillows and covering, bunched up like a nest. He glanced back at the bed and then the closet again, frowning, when it suddenly dawned on him. She was sleeping in the closet. But why?

  Another ‘thump’ pulled Paris’ attention away from the closet and he turned back to the bed. Hearing the thump again, he knelt down, peering underneath the mattress.

  Silvery-reflective eyes blinked back at him and he fe
lt the lightening quick press of a wet tongue against his wrist.

  “Hello, Bruce,” Paris said quietly.

  “Pfffft.”

  “Where’s your mistress?” Now that he concentrated on it, Paris realized the sense of Jade’s magic he’d felt downstairs was coming from Bruce. Paris squinted, trying to get a better look at the lizard. Bruce was curled around something, a box. Jade’s shoebox, if he wasn’t mistaken. Paris recognized it, having once seen Jade going through it, looking at a picture. At the time, he thought it was a picture of Jade as a young girl, but the girl in the photo had green eyes.

  Green eyes like the shade Jade’s eyes had turned after she defeated Dex. Like the apple-green that had been in Bruce’s eye the other day. He thought back to the day he’d seen the picture.

  “It looks like you but… Her eyes are green. Yours are grey. I didn’t know you had any other family. A sister? That would explain why the demon couldn’t pull you through the portal when it tried. You didn’t say you had a sister.” He flipped it over. “‘Lily. Six years old.’”

  “I don’t. That’s… That’s just a photo. It’s me. It’s just…me.”

  “It says, ‘Lily’ on the back.”

  “I changed my name. So what? I have documents if you want to see.”

  Paris leaned down further, peering at Bruce, trying to get a look at his eyes. As he hid under the bed, it was hard to see his irises and Paris was loathe to reach in a try to pull him out. Bruce’s tail, curled around the shoebox, flicked up and down. Paris hesitated, his eyes fixed on the shoebox.

  “May I?” he asked Bruce. He wasn’t truly expecting an answer, but Bruce was an intelligent creature, moreso than just a simple house pet. He’d shown quite a level of intellectual capacity before. Bruce’s tongue darted out again, lightning fast and then his tail uncurled from the shoebox. Paris reached forward slowly, gingerly, in case Bruce changed his mind. His fingers settled around the cardboard and he pulled it out from under the bed.