Mark of the Witch (Boston Witches)

by Jessica Gibson

  MARK OF THE WITCH

  Jessica Gibson

  MARK OF THE WITCH

  Jessica Gibson

  Copyright © 2012

  All Rights Reserved.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Layout provided by Everything Indie

  http://www.everything-indie.com

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Jillian Proctor was almost thirteen; she lay in bed the night before her birthday, too excited to sleep. She rolled over to talk to her twin sister Caroline, who was in the bed next to hers. “What do you think will happen once we turn thirteen? Do you think we’ll just all of a sudden have all of these cool powers? Maybe like a bright light will flash or something?” she asked excitedly.

  Caroline sighed, “I don’t know, and I don’t care, Jilly. Just go to sleep and let me get some rest.”

  “What’s wrong with you, Car? This is like the coolest thing to ever happen to us. How are you not super excited about being a witch?”

  “How am I not excited? It’s total nonsense, Jilly. There is no such thing as witches or magical powers.”

  “How can you even say that? You’ve seen Mom and Gran do magic. How do you explain that?”

  “It wasn’t magic; they were just tricking us into believing it was.”

  “Whatever, Caroline, I’m not going to let you spoil this for me,” Jilly said, irritated. She rolled back over and faced the wall.

  She glanced at the clock on her nightstand; it was 11:59 only one more minute until she turned thirteen.

  She and Caroline had been born at midnight. The doctor had been trying to take just one of them out at a time, but they were entwined like they were hugging, so he pulled them both out.

  She heard a soft click as their door opened, and saw her mother silhouetted in the light from the hallway. She padded over and softly sat down on Jilly’s bed. “Are you still awake, Tadpole?”

  “Mhm,” Jilly replied and sat up. All of a sudden, her toes got really warm, and she kicked her feet out of the covers. She looked down, and her feet were glowing, and it was spreading up her legs. Soon her whole body and face were glowing, and everything felt warm. “Mom, is this ok?” she asked, worried that something was wrong.

  Her mother smiled. “You’re receiving your magic. All witches go through this.”

  She turned at looked over at Caroline’s bed, wanting to go and talk to her other daughter. Caroline was turned over, facing the opposite direction, unwilling to give in to what was happening to her. She kept her eyes closed tightly and pretended to be asleep.

  “Come with me, Jilly. We don’t want to wake your sister.”

  Jilly jumped out of her bed and followed her mother out of her room.

  6 years later

  Jilly woke up in a cold sweat. She’d just had the worst dream. Her mom and grandma were in a car with a few of the witches from the coven they were visiting in Ireland, when all of a sudden something jumped out into the road. The woman driving tried to swerve out of the way, and the car launched off a cliff into the ocean two hundred feet below. As the car fell, both her mom and grandma looked at her with tears in their eyes and told her how much they loved her. With a final kiss from them both, the car smashed into the water and Jilly was pushed into blackness.

  She got out of bed and splashed some water on her face. She heard the phone ringing in her parents’ room, and her dad’s groggy voice as he answered. She laid back down on her bed, listening to the rumble of her dad’s voice through the wall, the sound lulling her back to sleep.

  Just as she was falling asleep she heard her dad scream and throw something against the wall. She jumped out of bed and ran into his room to find him crumpled in a heap on the floor, crying.

  “Dad?” Jilly said as she walked over to him. “What happened?” she whispered as she knelt down beside him.

  He looked up at her, his tear stained cheeks shining in the light. “Your mother’s dead, Jilly,” he whispered.

  Jilly fell back onto the floor. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Her dad gathered her into his arms, and they cried together, each relying on the other’s strength to see them through.

  *

  Jilly and Caroline stood side-by-side, watching their mother’s casket being lowered into the ground. Jilly wanted to reach for her sister, but the years of silence stood between them like a cement wall. Their father stood slightly in front of them, his shoulders shaking with the tears he shed for his wife.

  After the funeral was over, they stood in front of the cemetery as countless friends and family members filed past them.

  Jilly felt numb. She could not believe that her mother was actually gone. She turned towards Caroline and saw the same expression on her sister’s face.

  After everyone had gone to their cars, Jilly and her dad walked back to his car; Caroline had decided to drive herself.

  The drive home was over way too quickly. There were cars parked on the street in front of their house. Caroline was already home; she was playing the dutiful hostess, welcoming everyone in. Seeing her sister standing there in the doorway made Jilly’s blood boil. She slammed the car door a little too hard, and her dad’s head jerked up quickly. She shot him an apologetic look and they walked up the steps to the house.

  “Thank you so much for coming, I know my mom would have been happy to have you,” Caroline was saying to one of their guests when they walked up.

  Who did she think she was? Jilly thought venomously. She barely spent any time with their mother in the last six years.

  Jilly pushed past her sister, leaving her dad to stay with Caroline. She ran up to her room and shut herself inside, the tears spilling out hotly over her cheeks. She sat down on her bed, waiting for the inevitable knock on her door. She looked at her reflection in the mirror; she looked so much like her mom. She had the same wavy red hair and big green eyes.

  She did not have to wait very long; a few minutes later she heard her sister’s annoyed voice call from outside.

  “Jilly, get out here, these are your guests too.” Jilly didn’t say anything; the sound of her sister’s voice grated on her. “I’m serious, Jilly, you need to get out here.”

  Jilly sighed in resignation and opened the door. Caroline stalked in impatiently and stood in front of the dresser. Jilly studied her twin. They were so different Caroline took after their dad more. She had long chestnut brown hair and blue eyes, but they both had their mother’s peaches and cream skin.

  “Jilly, this is your responsibility too. Get down there and do your part.” The anger in Caroline’s voice was palpable.

  Jilly looked at her sister through tear stained eyes.

  “I just can’t do this, Car, I can’t put on a smile and pret
end I’m ok. I’m not ok; this isn’t ok.” Jilly was borderline hysterical.

  Caroline felt uneasy listening to her. She wanted to go to her sister, but the years of silence made that impossible. She pushed the guilty feelings away. “Just get down there. Dad needs both of us,” she said, and quickly left the room.

  *

  A few days later, Jilly was sitting on the porch enjoying the summer breeze, when she saw her sister’s car pull up. Caroline got out and popped the trunk. She grabbed a stack of boxes and headed up the back steps.

  “What’s this?” Jilly asked when Caroline reached the top step.

  Caroline averted her eyes. “I’m moving to New York. I’m leaving in a week.”

  Jilly’s eyes widened in shock. “How can you leave now? Dad needs you.”

  “I have to go, I need to move on.” She tried to walk past, but Jilly stopped her.

  “Don’t go, Car, I need you too.”

  “Since when have you ever needed me, Jilly?” Caroline erupted. “I’ve been on my own in this house since we turned thirteen.”

  Jilly’s eyes narrowed at her twin. “That’s been your choice. I never shut you out. You did that all on your own. Mom and I always tried with you, but you never wanted to hear it.”

  Tears streamed down Caroline’s face. “Don’t bring up that witch crap with me, not now. Mom and Grandma would still be alive if they hadn’t gone to Ireland to meet up with that coven or whatever you freaks call it.”

  “You can choose to believe it or not, Caroline, but it’s real, and the sooner you accept it, the better your life will be,” Jilly pled with her sister.

  “Don’t push me; I’m done fighting with you.”

  Caroline picked up the boxes she had dropped and fled into the house, shutting the door on her sister and the life she could have had.

  3 years later

  Caroline stood in front of a large oval mirror. She wanted to be completely happy, but she couldn’t. She was marrying the man of her dreams today, but her mom wasn’t here to see it.

  She stared at herself, taking in her mother’s white lace wedding gown. If only Jilly were with her, then everything would be perfect. That wasn’t going to happen though, and she had no one to blame but herself.

  She turned her head when she heard a soft knock, and her dad came in. He wiped away a tear when he saw her. “Oh Caroline, you look so beautiful. I wish your mother could see you today.”

  The tears that had been threatening to fall all morning finally broke loose and fell down her cheeks.

  Her dad wrapped her in his arms. “Dry your eyes, baby girl; we’ve got a wedding to get to,” he said with a watery smile.

  Caroline nodded and dried her eyes. With a quick touch up of her makeup, she was ready to go.

  They emerged from the small room that Caroline was in and made their way to the back of the church. Everyone rose to their feet as Caroline and her dad walked down toward Jack.

  Jilly was sitting in the front row; she was so happy that her sister found someone to love, but sad that she could not share in this day with her. She was relegated to the sidelines. As her sister passed her, they shared a smile, both with tears in their eyes. Jack looked so handsome and happy standing at the alter, waiting for her sister.

  The reception was beautiful, and Caroline was radiant. Jilly plastered a smile on her face and mingled. She wished she could leave, but her dad told her they needed to stay until Caroline left. It wouldn’t be proper for them to leave before the bride. She tried to make the best of it, and even danced with both of her uncles and a slew of cousins, and even her new brother-in-law. She liked Jack well enough, he loved her sister, so that was enough for her.

  Finally, it was time for the bride and groom to leave for their honeymoon. Jilly caught Caroline’s eye just as she and Jack were walking out to the waiting limo. She blew her sister a kiss, and felt the tears slide down her cheeks. Her heart broke into pieces. She felt as though she had lost her sister forever.

  Chapter 1

  7 years later...

  Jilly was standing in front of an enormous black cauldron, carefully stirring its contents. She smiled when she thought about all of the stereotypes about witches and black cauldrons. You’d think after all this time witches would find something more updated to use when brewing potions. She chewed on her lower lip while she glanced over at her grimoire for the next ingredient that needed to be added. She smiled when she touched the pages of her family’s spell book, thinking back to when her mom had first shown it to her and explained its importance.

  The directions told her to stir counter clockwise three times while adding in powdered bat wing, and then to add a sprig of pine and a dash of blood orange juice. Jilly grumbled to herself about how disorganized her pantry was while she was rummaging for the correct ingredients. None of the labels were legible anymore, and she had to squint at the contents to find the right one. I really need to go through these when I have more time, she thought to herself as she stirred the cauldron with an ancient wooden spoon. It had been in the house as long as she could remember. Her mom said it had been around since the 1700s.

  The instructions told her to let it simmer for at least an hour before bottling, so she grabbed her grimoire and headed out to the living room.

  She set the book down on the big chest by the door and glanced at the clock. “Oh my gosh, is it 1:30 already?” she exclaimed. I really need to get moving if I’m going to make it to the shop on time. She ran back into the kitchen, grabbing a potholder from the drawer next to the stove. She pushed the big cauldron off the flame in the big fireplace and shoved it to the side. This should keep until tonight, she thought as she hurried on her way.

  She ran into her room and went straight to the closet, pulling her shirt over her head as she went. She grabbed her clothes, ran to the bathroom, turned on the faucet and splashed some water on her face. Looking at her reflection while she was getting dressed, she took in her long red waves that fell almost to her waist. Deciding she didn’t have time to do anything major to try and tame it, she quickly tied it back into a ponytail. Adding a bit of mascara to her emerald green eyes, and a little lip gloss, she was ready to go. She grabbed her cell phone and purse off of her dresser and raced around looking for her keys. She looked in all the usual places: the hook in the kitchen, the counter next to the phone; and finally she found them on the floor next to the door. She could practically hear her mother’s voice nagging about hanging up her keys as she picked them up and raced out to her car.

  It only took about ten minutes to drive to work. She pulled her red Mini Cooper around back and parked in her spot, grabbing her purse and the little black bag in the back seat as she dashed in the back door.

  “Em, I’m here, sorry I’m so late,” she called as she stashed her purse in her office and turned on her computer.

  Emily Davis had been her best friend for as long as Jilly could remember. She was a tall leggy blonde with piercing blue eyes and a sassy personality to match, and she was also a witch. Maybe that was what drew them together all those years ago. Jilly had opened the salon two years ago with the help of Emily; after doing hair since they were nineteen, it seemed like the next logical step.

  “How has business been today?” Jilly called while she waited for the computer to boot up.

  “Pretty good. Shelly’s been slammed all day, Natalie and Chrissy have been pretty steady, and this is my first time off the floor since we opened at 8:30,” Emily said as she walked into the office.

  Jilly looked up at her when she walked in. She was wearing a black apron with “Shear Magic”, the name of our hair salon, emblazoned on the front, and a pair of black Capris with cute black sandals. She sat down in the chair in front of the desk and huffed out a breath.

  Jilly laughed and said, “That bad, huh?”

  “Oh, you have no idea,” she said as she leaned back in the chair. “My feet are already killing me. Do my ankles look swollen to you?” she asked while she propped he
r feet up on the desk. Emily was just about six months pregnant with her first child, and she was definitely starting to feel the effects of pregnancy.

  “They do look a little swollen, sweetie. What do you have on the books for the rest of the day?” Jilly asked while rummaging through the desk drawer, looking for her appointment book. Finally she found it under a billion catalogs.

  “I’m pretty booked until about four and then I have nothing,” Emily said.

  “Well, if you want to get out of here early you totally can. I doubt we’ll be that busy. Do you think you can stop by my house and check on the potion I have in the cauldron on your way home? I’m sure it will be fine until I get home; I’m only here for a few hours today. But you know how finicky protection charms can be, and it’s for Finola Graham. She’s probably one of my pickiest clients,” Jilly said with a laugh.

  “Sure. Do you have any special instructions, or is it a standard charm?” Emily asked.

  “It’s pretty standard. I added in a few drops of mermaid tears, so it may be a bit kickier than usual. My grimoire is on that chest in the living room. The recipe is on page 114; its right after that spell we used to banish that ghost from Leslie Wharton’s house.”

  “Ok, I’ll bottle it up for you if it looks like it’s getting too volatile to be in the cauldron until you get home,” Emily replied.

  The bell at the front of the salon chimed and they heard Tanya, the receptionist, greet Emily’s next client. “Well, I guess I better get back to it,” she said as she heaved herself out of the chair and headed back out to the floor.

  *

  Caroline sat at her desk in her uptown apartment, going through her husband’s emails. He had been stupid enough to use her computer, and even stupider to leave an email from his mistress on the desktop. She found dozens and dozens of emails from her to him, all of them filled with the same lovey dovey crap you’d expect to see in a dating couple. How long has this been going on? she wondered to herself as she pushed her chair back from the desk. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She calmly walked into their bedroom and collapsed on the bed.