Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3)

Home > Paranormal > Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3) > Page 33
Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3) Page 33

by Margarita Gakis


  The entire thing happened without them saying a word to each other. It was strange and bewitching (for lack of a better word) to watch them communicate with one another. Suddenly, Jade spoke aloud, saying, “Yeah, half and half, too. Ours is old,” and Lily scribbled something on another note pad. A grocery list, Paris realized. They were having more than one conversation at once. Jade paused, tilting her head a bit and Lily watched her for a split second, before they both turned to the doorway and caught him staring. The smiles on their faces were nearly identical. Nearly, but not quite. His eyes flicked back and forth, trying to study the almost infinitesimal differences. He still couldn’t tell them apart without context. Or without getting close enough to see the color of their eyes.

  “Is this an official part of your job description? Creeping?” Jade asked, a smile curving her lips.

  Something flashed between Lily and Jade; Lily smirking a bit while Jade… blushed? Paris wondered what on earth had just transpired.

  “Yes, this is how I supplement my meager income. Extra monetary incentive for checking in on new witches,” he replied, coming into the room.

  Josef looked up from his desk in his office and Paris gave him a slight nod, receiving one in return. He turned back to Jade and Lily.

  “How are things?”

  Lily shrugged while Jade answered. “Good. Counter-Magic log. Still resetting spells and fixing hexes since you reset Coven magic.”

  Paris looked to Lily. “Are you able to assist with that?”

  “Yes,” Jade answered at the same time that Lily said, “No.”

  “You’re helping,” Jade protested.

  “I’m taking notes,” Lily clarified. She turned to Paris. “I can follow along, but can’t contribute.”

  “Yet,” Jade added, sounding defensive.

  “It doesn’t bother me,” Lily said. “I like learning even if I can’t help.”

  It clearly bothered Jade, her eyebrows coming together in a frown. Lily checked her watch. “But we should get going. We told Henri we’d drive.”

  “Oh, right,” Jade said, her voice flat and monotone. She wasn’t happy about something.

  Lily laughed at her expression, turning at Paris. “Booty yoga,” she said, as though it should mean something to him.

  “Is that code for something?” he asked.

  “Don’t I wish,” replied Jade.

  “Yoga’s good for you.” Lily hitched a purse up on her shoulder. “Helps loosen up those running muscles.”

  “Well, I was just coming by to check up on you and see how things were going,” Paris said, watching as Jade put her coat on and hefted her own purse on her shoulder. She paused, looking at him and then Lily slowed her movements too, looking back and forth between Jade and Paris. Jade turned to Lily and Lily nodded.

  “You know, why don’t I take the car and catch up with Henri and you can maybe get a ride home?” Lily raised her eyebrows at Paris.

  “Of course,” he said, addressing both of them. “I don’t mind driving you.”

  Lily’s smile was wider and brighter than Jades, but Paris found Jade’s was just as sincere, if slightly more circumspect. “Great,” said Lily. “I’m going to go catch up with Henri. I’ll see you at yoga, or… not.” Lily placed a hand on Jade’s shoulder and then let it run down her arm. Jade grabbed her fingers as they reached her own palm and gave them a quick squeeze and then Lily was gone.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Jade shuffled. “No… not really. I just… never got a chance to talk to you the other day. About that thing I wanted to tell you.”

  Well, that was unhelpfully vague. Paris studied her. She stared at him with solemn, serious eyes. “And you’d like to discuss it now?”

  “Well, if you’re free. I mean, I don’t want to assume…”

  “I’m free,” he replied, perhaps a bit too quickly. “Would you like to go to your place first?” he wondered if she would like some privacy. She seemed rather hesitant and perhaps nervous.

  “Um, yeah. My place is good.” Jade nodded, seemingly more to herself than him.

  “All right.”

  Jade popped her head into Josef’s office before leaving and they exchanged quick but pleasant words, with them making plans to have dinner on the weekend.

  “He’s going to bring some pictures,” Jade said, looking bashful as she and Paris left the Counter-Magic offices.

  “I’m sure that will be lovely.”

  “Yeah.” Her voice had a slightly far away quality to it and she seemed lost in her thoughts.

  They kept an even pace with each other as they left the Covenstead, a comfortable silence between them even as they got in Paris’ car and drove. Jade looked out the window as he drove, not saying much, something clearly on her mind.

  Once at her cottage, Bruce came stampeding down the walkway to see them and Jade laughed at his exuberance.

  “I just don’t get that kind of reception anywhere else, buddy,” she said, petting him soundly on the head as they walked up the steps into her house. Paris felt a slight touch of demon magic as he passed the threshold.

  “Are you casting your lock spell again?”

  Jade moved slowly, taking off her shoes and coat and it was obvious she was stalling. “Yes and no. It’s not the same spell as before.”

  “I can feel that. Why not?”

  Jade took a deep breath and settled her hands on her hips, almost like she thought she was preparing for battle. “Because the Sparrow Lady unraveled that one. And she’d just do it again if she wanted.”

  He frowned while he took off his own coat and shoes. “We’ve not yet had a chance to discuss her in great detail. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

  She winced. “Yes and no,” she said again. She was about to say something else when she and Bruce both turned their heads sharply toward the kitchen. An instant later, they heard the deep, succulent voice of the demon.

  “Possum! I know you’re here.”

  Jade’s lips curled in disgust and Bruce hissed.

  “And your Englishman!”

  Jade swore quite loudly and they could hear Seth laugh from the pantry. Bruce darted into the kitchen and Paris could hear him spitting and hissing. Squaring her shoulders, Jade set off for the kitchen, Paris following behind.

  “Horrid thing! Where is your mistress? Stop spitting at me. It comes through the warding, you know. I go home smelling of lizard spittle.”

  Once in the kitchen, Paris spotted Bruce. His Elizabethan collar was raised and he had one foot up in the air, making a kind of clawing motion at Seth. Jade, stood next to Bruce, crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you want? I’m busy.”

  “Call off your lizard thing. It’s unseemly for me to be treated this way.”

  Jade didn’t say anything and Bruce spat three more times. Seth’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

  “You’re lucky she’s fond of you,” Seth said to Bruce. “You wouldn’t stand a chance anywhere else.”

  “Don’t talk to him that way.”

  Seth raised his eyes to look at Jade and for a moment, his gaze made Paris dizzy. If it did the same to Jade, she hid it well. Paris shook his head a bit and the feeling passed. Seth’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Jade and then he peered closer at her, studying her. He smiled brightly. The flash of his teeth was dizzying. “Look at you! Little bit lonely in your brain now? Allllll byyyyy yourselllllllf,” he sang off key. “Where is your other-but-not-necessarily-better half?” Seth craned his neck, dramatically looking around the empty kitchen.

  Jade rolled her eyes. “Get to the point, Seth.” Bruce flicked his tail.

  “Oh, Possum. That’s what I’m here for. Front row seats.” His eyes moved past Jade and Paris, peering behind them toward the front door. Paris turned his head toward the front of the house, even as he told himself he shouldn’t take his eyes of the demon. He saw Bruce turn his head as well, as though he heard something. He bolted out of the kitchen, claws scratching at the fl
oor as he did.

  “Bruce! What-?” Jade clearly wanted to go after him, but stayed put, watching Seth.

  There was a knock at the front door, the sound of it loud enough to carry into the kitchen. Paris’ feet moved of their own volition, taking two steps away from Jade and back toward the door. He knew he was moving and struggled, forcing himself to stop. A thick feeling rolled through his stomach. Again, like when he’d been compelled to sleep, this was magic. He was being drawn to the door.

  “Jade,” he said, wanting to reach for her, feeling somehow that if he could touch her hand, her magic might be enough to break the compulsion he felt. Unease clutched his chest and squeezed.

  “Listen, Possum, I just popped by to remind you how near and dear we are. We’ve shared things, you and I. I’ve disfigured people, you’ve disfigured people. I was there when you made that witch gouge out his own eye and then you almost lost your heart to a demon. Those were good times,” he said fondly. Paris cringed at his tone, hating that he had his back facing Seth but not able to turn around. “So, now that you’re getting more popular and moving on up, I just want to remind you of our bond.”

  “Our what?” Jade said, her voice going up an octave at the end.

  “Our fellowship, our affiliation. Our tendre.”

  Paris felt a stronger pull toward the front door, his feet moving again even as he tried to remain still.

  “Jade,” he repeated. “I have to answer the door.”

  “What?” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her look him up and down, see her frown. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to answer the door,” he said again, leaving the kitchen and heading back toward the front of the cottage. He heard her follow him and felt grateful.

  “Go away, Seth,” Jade called back to the kitchen. “I’m busy.” She followed Paris’ wooden steps as he kept moving forward.

  “Should I be ready to fight? Bruce, are we fighting?”

  Bruce was already at the front door, tail swishing back and forth. His collar was still up, but he wasn’t spitting. Paris wasn’t sure what that meant.

  “Remember all we’ve shared!” Seth called out. “Don’t be swayed by a pretty face and a tragic back-story!”

  “Get bent!” Jade shouted, Paris felt her hand grab his elbow, felt her magic rush through him and although it lessened the heavy tug in his chest, he couldn’t stop. Her magic was like fire in his veins - burning through his being hot and quick. It collided with the magic pulling at him and there was a whip crack backlash from the unknown magic - hard and vicious against Jade’s power. Her feet stumbled and her fingers tightened on his elbow. Jade poured more power into him. He’d never felt such power before. He had no idea this was what her magic truly felt like - molten and thick. As powerful as she was, though, she was only brute force. The other magic was methodical, calm and calculated. He could feel it pushing back against Jade’s power and the response surging through him from Jade - all power and no finesse. It made his stomach clench.

  “Stop. You can’t help just by forcing it. Not by sheer strength.” Jade was a demolition force against a lightening storm - powerful but ineffective against such an onslaught.

  “Sorry.” Jade’s voice was quiet and although her magic stopped rushing through him, she didn’t take her hand from his elbow, keeping pace with him. She kept a low-level stream pulsing into him, not trying to stop the magic compelling him, but merely making its presence known to the unknown witch. Her magic seemed to say, ‘I’m still here and that won’t change.’

  Paris was at the foyer now, crossing the tile floor, his hand reaching out toward the front door. Her fingers tightened around his elbow once, before sliding up his arm and resting on his shoulder. Her magic was a warm beat in his veins. She stepped close to him, her face next to his, although he couldn’t make his head turn to look at her. “Should I get some more Counter-Magic Agents, or call a priest or stop you from answering the door?”

  “I don’t know. Someone wants me to answer the door.” Paris cocked his head, feeing the magic that was compelling him. “It feels familiar… but impossible.”

  “Impossible how?” Jade asked, her voice wary.

  “It feels like my mother’s magic.”

  The look on Jade’s face and how her countenance went grey made his stomach turn over.

  “Oh, shit. Remember that thing I needed to tell you?”

  Paris remembered; it was why they were meeting - to discuss it. “Yes, of course.” His hand was on the door handle, turning it, pulling the door open. A woman stood before him in a dark cloak, the hood of it obscuring her face. She reached up and drew the hood back, exposing her countenance.

  “Hello, my dear.”

  Standing in front of him was his mother. But that was impossible. She was dead. Dead for over fifteen years. Dead and gone, leaving the Coven to him. And yet it was her. Her face was more lined, but her hair was still dark, her bone structure impressive, her posture perfect, as always. Her magic embraced him like an old, familiar blanket, wrapping around him, surrounding him in the scent of vanilla, sage and mint.

  With a touch of licorice.

  “She’s the Sparrow Lady,” Jade said, her fingers tightening on his shoulder, her other hand coming up to rest against the center of his back, as though he needed bracing and she could give him strength.

  “Mother.”

  AUTHOR BIO

  Margarita loves the art, creativity and romanticism of storytelling. Sometimes, however, the act of putting pen to paper proves challenging. She works to develop genuine, relatable characters which grow in the hearts of her readers. From that foundation, the stories flourish into a warm friend.

  She enjoys pursuits which blur the lines between the analytical and creative sides of her brain. This includes her day job in electronic data management, where she uses her creativity to solve logical problems, and also her lessons learning to play the cello, where she finds beauty in the structure of music and the instrument. She believes there is a place for both logic and imagination to work together. When they do, the results are magical.

  The ‘label’ she identifies most with is ‘storyteller.’ According to Wikipedia, storytelling is the conveying of events in words, and images, often by improvisation or embellishment. It seems to fit pretty well with how she feels about her work.

  At www.margaritagakis.com, you can sign up for her newsletter to get updates on her current work and upcoming releases.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONEHiding

  CHAPTER TWOPrior

  CHAPTER THREEWith

  CHAPTER FOURAnother

  CHAPTER FIVEEven

  CHAPTER SIXNo

  CHAPTER SEVENFor

  CHAPTER EIGHTFeeling

  CHAPTER NINEBy

  CHAPTER TENBruce

  CHAPTER ELEVENThe

  CHAPTER TWELVEJade

  CHAPTER THIRTEENParis

  CHAPTER FOURTEENFor

  CHAPTER FIFTEENLily

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN“Why

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

 


‹ Prev