White Witch

by Trish Milburn

  “An insane fondness for cheese straws?”

  Keller laughs then squeezes my hand before heading to the bar to refill our drinks. I turn my attention toward the dance floor, forcing myself to focus on something other than how my life is turning into a minefield of lies.

  I spot Eric and Paige totally enjoying each other’s company and personal space. And Toni is in her element, rocking out with her pink-streaked hair flying. Seeing them all happy lifts my mood. I shouldn’t feel sorry for myself. I’ve already had more fun and freedom in the past few days than I have in my entire life. I renew my vow to focus on the positive and not worry about what-ifs until I have to.

  I talk to Keller about favorite books—I like romances and fantasy while he’s a nonfiction kind of guy. He rolls his eyes when he finds out I’m as big a Whedon fan as Toni, and I tease him when he says his favorite show is Dirty Jobs. I almost giggle at the idea of host Mike Rowe doing an episode on supernatural hunting. I think I could talk to Keller about the U.S. Revenue Code and still be happy.

  The evening ends much too soon as Keller twirls me through one last song before the barn lights come up and people start streaming out to their cars, back to parents and curfews and life outside this teen cocoon.

  Our group waits until the band breaks down the equipment and gets it all loaded, with Eric and Keller lending a hand. When everything is secured in the van, we head for Keller’s truck. I feel like floating as Keller holds my hand, but floating would definitely stand out as not quite normal.

  I slide into the front seat, cursing the console that sits between Keller and me. But he holds my hand with one of his as he drives with the other.

  “Man, I’m drowning in hormones,” Toni laments with much drama from the back seat. “I’ve got Mr. and Mrs. Smoochy Lips back here, and the Googly Eyes in the front. I’m so writing away for a mail-order date next time.”

  “Hey, Keller, pull over at the Kwik Stop. I’m thirsty,” Eric says.

  “Ya think that might be because all your saliva is gone?” Toni asks.

  Paige giggles, and I love hearing how happy my friend sounds. But my heart hurts a little for Toni. She always puts on a brave face, but I wonder if deep down Toni really does wish she could write away for a gorgeous date so she didn’t have to endure fifth wheeldom.

  Keller pulls into the side parking lot of the Kwik Stop, a brightly-lit convenience store plopped down in the middle of nowhere. During the day, the road is fairly busy, but now the attendant looks bored out of his mind.

  We all pile out of the truck and wander inside to feed our late-night munchies and make use of the facilities. Once inside, we spread out like spilled marbles—Toni to the restroom, Eric and Paige to the drink coolers at the back of the store, Keller to the candy bar aisle. I’m not hungry or thirsty, so I peruse the magazines at the front of the store.

  “Y’all been to The Barn?” asks the attendant, a red-headed guy who appears to be in his mid-twenties.

  “Yeah.”

  “I sure miss going up there, but I get stuck here every Friday night.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Tell me about it. So—” He’s cut off by someone’s loud entry into the store.

  I turn just as a man in a baseball cap and dark glasses levels a gun at the store clerk and says, “Give me everything in the register.” As he says it, he notices me and Keller, who is standing two rows over from me. The robber mutters an expletive, like he didn’t expect to have an audience.

  My heart goes nuts in my chest, hammering against my ribs like it wants to break free and make a getaway. I don’t blame it. If the guy decides to wipe out witnesses, I’m likely the first to go after the clerk. My mind races for some way out of this, some way that doesn’t expose my abilities.

  My brain continues to burn rubber as the clerk nervously pulls money from the cash register drawer.

  “Now place the money on the counter and get in the floor. If you try to pull anything, I’ll blow your head clear off.”

  The clerk complies, whimpering as he does so.

  “Dude, someone needs to clean the bathroom.”

  My heart freezes when I hear Toni’s voice. Everything screeches into slow motion as Toni rounds the corner, her eyes going wide as she sees the gunman swing the barrel of the gun toward her and reflexively pull the trigger.

  I have no choice. I tackle the gunman, my movement from the spot by the magazines no more than a blur. The gun explodes close to my ear, the sound assaulting my eardrum. The gunman and I crash into a display of thermal mugs sporting racecar drivers and their cars.

  I slam the robber’s hand against the concrete floor so hard that I’m fairly sure I’ve broken some of his bones, but it has the intended effect. He drops the gun and howls in so much pain that he forgets about the weapon.

  I whip my head around, praying the shot went wide. Keller crouches with his arms encircling Toni. “Are you okay?” I ask.

  He nods, barely. Toni looks up at me. Both of their faces reflect shock, and it isn’t only because of being the near victims of an armed robber. But I can’t worry about that now. I turn and slug the guy, knocking him out cold. Then I focus on the security camera. There can be no video proof of what happened. I concentrate my power and toast the camera’s insides.

  “Hey, clerk guy, call the police,” I say. I stand, my body humming with power. It takes a lot of concentration to force it down, but I have to. And hope that my burst of witchery doesn’t bring trouble to town.

  I hear the clerk dialing the cordless phone, but he’s still hiding behind the counter, probably afraid to put his head in the possible line of fire. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Keller and Toni stand.

  Toni’s eyes meet mine, still wide and full of questions. “What just happened?”

  I close the distance between us. “You’re really okay?”

  Toni nods, but she looks like she’s bordering on shock.

  I lower my voice so only Toni and Keller can hear. “I’ve got to go. The police can’t find me here.”

  “Why?” Toni’s forehead scrunches.

  “I’ll explain everything after the police are gone, I swear. But trust me, I can’t be here when they arrive. They can’t know I was here. It’s safer if I’m nowhere near here.”

  “I don’t understand,” Toni says, shaking her head.

  I grab Toni’s hands between mine. “You will. When you all are through here, I’ll meet you at your house. Tell your mom I’m spending the night.”

  “What about the clerk, and Eric and Paige?” Keller asks, his voice flat and distant.

  It’s all I can do to look up at him. I don’t want to see hate or disgust there, and I don’t. But I do see betrayal and wariness, and it scorches my heart. “The clerk was traumatized, was mistaken about another person being here. Tell Eric and Paige that my mom is really strict, that if she finds out I was here I’ll never be able to go anywhere again. Tell them I caught a ride home with someone else.”

  I can’t wait for an answer. The clerk is stirring, preparing to stand. I hurry through the front door and into the night at normal speed. I stop at the edge of the light shed by the high-powered bulbs above the gas pumps and look back at the store. I really should go back to the RV, gather my belongings and hit the road. I really should, but I can’t. I have friends here, some semblance of a real life. I care about someone, and—common sense be damned—I can’t stand the thought of letting him go when I’ve just found him.

  So I’m going to be selfish. It ought to come easy to me, considering my heritage, but it doesn’t. With a final look at Keller through the window of the store, I turn around and walk into the night.

  Chapter Seven

  I wait outside Toni’s house for what seems like forever, continually debating with myself whether I should just leave or not. Finally, when my nerves are stretched so taut I fear they will begin to shred, Keller pulls into Toni’s driveway. With a deep breath, I make my way out of the darkness at the edge of
the yard and toward them. I reach them just as Mrs. Dawes rushes outside and immediately wraps her arms around Keller and Toni. Tears stream down her face.

  “Oh, my God, I’m so glad you’re all right.” She makes a fuss of checking them all over, as if they might have a stray bullet hole somewhere and not realize it.

  “We’re okay, Mom,” Toni says as she pushes away.

  “Jax, honey, what a horrible thing to experience so soon after moving here. It’s normally such a quiet place.”

  “I wasn’t there. I caught a ride with someone else.”

  “Oh?” Mrs. Dawes looks from me to Keller.

  “Yeah, I was talking to a girl who used to live near where I did in Birmingham. I told Toni and Keller I’d catch up with them.”

  Mrs. Dawes nods, but she obviously doesn’t totally believe the story. A person can’t teach her whole adult life without figuring out when kids are lying to her. I just hope she doesn’t start digging.

  “Can I get you all something to eat or drink?”

  “We’re fine, Aunt Carol,” Keller says. “Just kind of wired. We’ll sit out back for a while if that’s okay.”

  I let out a silent breath that Keller doesn’t reveal my secret to his aunt.

  “Sure, but tell your parents where you are.”

  “I already called Dad.” I try not to think about what he might have told Rev. Dawes or consider that even now he might be setting a trap for me.

  “And Jax is spending the night,” Toni says without looking at me.

  “That’s probably a good idea. You shouldn’t be driving this late by yourself.”

  After she flits about a few more moments, Mrs. Dawes reluctantly goes inside. We wait until all but one lamp switches off in the living room and the light in what must be Toni’s mom’s bedroom comes on.

  “Come on.” Keller leads the way around to the back of the house, to the far end of the lot where a gazebo sits among his aunt’s flower garden. When he steps inside, he stalks to the opposite side, takes a deep breath then spins toward me. “What the hell happened back there? What are you?”

  I jerk at the verbal attack, confirmation of what I’d feared the most—he’s a hunter. I place a hand on my stomach to quell the sick feeling and slowly sink onto the cushioned bench opposite the one where Toni is sitting.

  “I’m a witch.”

  “A witch with super speed?” Keller crosses his arms. “I’ve not come across that.”

  “Yeah, well, just because you’re a supernatural hunter doesn’t mean you know everything.”

  “How—?”

  “Just because I’m blond doesn’t mean I’m dumb. Not too many teenage guys running around with bloodstones.”

  “You were there on the edge of the road the other night.”

  I glance at Toni, whose eyes are wide, then back at Keller.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I live at the Rocky Creek Campground. I was out for a walk, thinking.”

  “About?” Toni asks.

  “How I needed someone to pose as my mom so I could enroll in school.”

  “Pose? That wasn’t your mom in the office that morning?” Keller asks.

  “No. We all have something in common, losing a parent. My mom died when I was young.”

  “Not your dad like you told me?” Keller sounds as hurt by that lie as any of the others.

  “No.”

  “Then who are you living with?” Toni shifts forward, looking for the same answers as Keller.

  “No one. I live alone.”

  “How’d you convince someone to pose as your mother?” Keller asks, suspicion in his voice.

  “I didn’t.” I get to my feet and pace. “Listen, this will be easier if you don’t interrupt. If I start at the beginning and barrel through it, okay?”

  “You don’t have the right to dictate here,” he says.

  My heart breaks a little more at Keller’s harshness. But what did I expect? He’s probably been told his entire life that anything supernatural is evil incarnate.

  “Keller,” Toni scolds. “Give her a chance to explain.”

  When my gaze connects with Keller’s, my body rebels against me, wanting so desperately to move into the circle of his arms. But the likelihood of that ever happening again is probably nonexistent. I pace a couple more times before I sit back down and inhale a deep breath.

  “Like I said, I’m a witch, but not the kind you’re familiar with. I don’t make potions or have a black cat or ride on a broom.”

  “I’m aware those aren’t the real kind of witches,” Keller says.

  I give him a hard look. “Do you want to know this or not?” Anger edges into my voice to match his.

  He leans against one of the gazebo supports in answer.

  “My real last name is Pherson, and I’m part of a powerful witch family in Miami. There’s a family of power in most major cities. They have their hands in a lot of pies, some legal, some not, all of which make very good money. And they don’t care who gets hurt in the process. You see, revenge and retribution are the core of our existence. We’re taught that non-witches should pay for all the things their forebears did to our ancestors.”

  I sigh and shake my head. “I need to back up or this isn’t going to make any sense. You both know that there have been witch trials throughout history. Some didn’t even get the sham of a trial. They were burned, hung, drowned, pressed to death by rocks. Those people were harmless. They knew how to use herbs for medicine, had only hints of magical powers. They didn’t want to conform to society’s strict rules. And they were killed for it. It went on for centuries, and the Salem Witch Hunt was the last straw.”

  “You said your name is Pherson,” Toni says. “There were no Phersons killed in Salem.”

  “Not according to the official history books, but what you don’t know is that in addition to those innocent people, there were eighty-nine others who were murdered. They didn’t get trials. Vigilantes came to their homes and burned them, entire families of men, women, even children perishing within minutes. One of those families was Olaf, Genya and Bennie Pherson, my ancestors. I wouldn’t be here today if Olaf and Genya’s oldest daughter, Etta, hadn’t managed to escape.”

  “How could something like that happen without us knowing about it?” Toni asks.

  “How many Native Americans, who we know nothing about, do you think were killed during America’s westward expansion?” I pause, looking out into the darkness of the yard. “The people of Salem and the surrounding areas made a pact to never speak of the witches who were killed without trials. And in so doing, they made us what we are today, a race that lives for retribution.”

  I return my attention to them. “Our people were tired of being helpless, of being victims. So they said, ‘Fine, you think we’re something to fear? Then we will be.’ The major witch families made their own pact. They drew on very old and dark forces, things I don’t fully understand. I’m not sure any of the modern witches do, not even the leaders of the different families. But it had something to do with gathering at certain spots around the world, places where this dark energy bubbled up and escaped into the world to menace mankind. But no one had ever harnessed it, not until the witches decided to try. Some died in the effort, several in fact, before the families figured out how to take the power into themselves.”

  I look up at them from where I’ve been staring at the floor. “And when they did, their level of power wasn’t the only thing that changed. They didn’t just harness darkness, they became it. They killed as our kind had been killed, they still kill.”

  “Do . . . have you?” Toni’s nervousness makes her voice tremor.

  I shake my head. “Witches are forbidden to kill until we reach our seventeenth birthday, when we come into our full powers. Then it’s . . . it’s expected. It’s not totally indiscriminate anymore. It’s more targeted, though that doesn’t make it okay. It’s all horrible.”

  “If what you say is true, and y
our people took on all this dark power, why aren’t you evil?” Toni asks.

  I glance at Keller and realize he isn’t convinced that I’m not. My heart squeezes.

  “I don’t know. But I won’t lie. Sometimes the urge to do bad things is there. The two encounters with Stacy, that day in the cafeteria and after school at Squeaky’s, I felt the darkness rising in me then. That’s why I left. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “Stacy saw it,” Keller says. “She was scared of you.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re only sixteen,” Toni says. “So you’re going to get more powerful?”

  “Yes, if I live that long.”

  “What do you mean?” Despite everything, Keller sounds like he might actually not like the idea of my demise.

  I latch on to that ridiculously small sliver of hope.

  “I’ve had to live a lie my entire life. For as long as I can remember, I’ve known that the way the covens live is wrong. And I wanted no part of it. I had to get away before my seventeenth birthday, when it’s kill or be killed. For two years, I’ve been plotting my escape. Saving money, searching the country for the perfect place to hide, creating a false trail for my family to follow. All I’ve ever wanted is to live a normal life, to have friends, to go to a real school, to . . .” I look up at Keller, my heart breaking. To date someone.

  He breaks eye contact, and it feels like he’s hundreds of miles away, on a different continent.

  “My aunt sent me out to run an errand one day about a month ago, and I just kept going,” I continue. “I bought my car with cash from a guy too drunk to remember me. Then came the little RV from a couple too old to remember me.

  “I could have erased their memories like I did the woman who posed as my mom, but I was trying not to use my power. Each time I do, it leaves a signature like a fingerprint, sort of like a disturbance in the air, making it easier for my family to find me. The more powerful the magic, the stronger the signature.