Witches & Werewolves: A Sacred Oath

by Bella Raven

  “What’s gotten into you?” I ask.

  He dishes up a plate and sets it on the table. “Sit. Eat.”

  I don’t argue. I slip into the chair, season the eggs, and dig in.

  “You want coffee? Or orange juice?”

  “Coffee. Lots of cream. Lots of sugar,” I say.

  Jake fixes the coffee, and a plate for himself. Then sits across from me at the table. “I’m going to drop Noah off at school and take you to your doctors appointment.”

  “Going all in with this parenting thing, huh?”

  “You got a problem with it?”

  “No, I don’t,” I say, smiling.

  Noah staggers into the kitchen, his eyes wide and sparkling. “B-a-c-o-n!” he says, in a long, excited voice. Jake fixes Noah of plate, and we all eat breakfast together. Like a family. A real family.

  CHAPTER 28

  JAKE’S CAR HAS that pristine new car smell. The seats are firm and sporty. I start programming in the radio stations. Jake zips us down the mountain roads toward town. I borrow Noah’s phone and call Ethan. I huddle over, facing the door, trying to give my conversation a little privacy. Jake furrows his brow at me.

  I tell Ethan I don’t need a ride this morning, and he sounds a little sad. My lips curl up with a slight smile. I tell him not to worry, if he’s lucky, he’ll see me by the end of the day.

  In the rearview mirror, I see Noah roll his eyes. He’s mocking me, making kissy faces, puckering his lips. He looks more like a fish than anything else. I motion for him to shut up, but of course that only makes thing worse. Then he starts signing the Kissing Song: Madison and Ethan sitting in a tree… K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

  I think I liked it better when he didn’t talk as much. We drop Noah off at school, then head to the doctor’s office. Jake turns off the radio. The sudden silence is a stark contrast. Just the sound of the asphalt under the tires.

  “Look, you’re old enough to make you’re own decisions,” Jake says. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. You can get involved with wolf boy if you want to. I told you it’s dangerous. You can take that information, or leave it. Just keep in mind that what you do affects this family.”

  Jake turns the radio back on. He had said what he needed to say, and I know what he meant by it. I feel terrible. Almost ashamed. I slink down in my seat.

  Getting involved with Ethan is dangerous. Not just to me, but to Noah and Jake. I need to find out more about this so called prophecy. More about why they want me dead. And I need to find out who they are.

  At the doctor’s office, the first thing they do is usher me back to x-ray. The nurse tells me the doc wants to see how the bone is progressing. The radiologist has me take off the boot. Then snaps several exposures from different angles. I put the boot back on, and she sends me back to an examining room. My leg doesn’t hurt at all. It hasn’t hurt since Devil’s Pit.

  After a few minutes, the doc enters, holding the films. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he says. “I can’t even tell there was ever a fracture.”

  “Really?”

  “Usually we see a little thickening of the bone where the fracture was. But looking at these x-rays, it looks like your leg was never broken. Yet your x-rays from a few weeks ago clearly indicate a break,” he says, confounded.

  Ethan said the water at Devil’s Pit had healing properties. I honestly thought he was just trying to get me to take my clothes off. But it seems there is something to that water after all.

  “So, I can walk on my leg as normal? Without a boot?”

  “I don’t see any reason why not,” the doctor says.

  “Well, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” I say, extending my hand.

  He clasps my hand and shakes. “Whatever you’ve got, if we could bottle it and sell it, we’d make a fortune.”

  I smile at him. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  I walk out of the exam room like a normal person. No boot.

  It feels great.

  Lunch is going strong by the time I make it back to school. There is just enough time for me to grab a tray and eat. I think it’s chicken fried steak, but I’m not entirely sure. My eyes scan the cafeteria, and I find Ethan sitting with Olivia. I look across the room and see Jen sitting with Sophia and Gwen. I take a deep breath and march toward Ethan and Olivia. My stomach flutters. Jen looks at me like I’m crazy.

  I set my tray down and sit next to Ethan. Olivia’s eyes widen. Her nose crinkles up with a look of disgust. I muster a bright smile and extend my hand to her. “Hi, I’m Madison. We haven’t been formally introduced.”

  My hand just dangles in the air. Olivia huffs. She grabs her tray as she stands and walks away.

  “You shouldn’t antagonize her,” Ethan says.

  “How was I antagonizing her? I was trying to be friendly,” I say.

  “It’s nothing personal.”

  “Yeah, it kind of is. The mere fact that I’m alive antagonizes her.”

  “She’s upset,” Ethan says. “We’re being shunned.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Olivia’s been forced to make a difficult decision.”

  “Like what?”

  The lunch bell rings. The room becomes a swarming frenzy of students.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Ethan says. He stands, grabbing his tray, and disappears into the horde. I chase after him.

  “I think we need to talk about this now,” I say.

  Ethan’s eyes narrow. He exhales and reluctantly begins to speak. “When my parents died, we were taken in by another pack. Good people. But they are being threatened.”

  “By who?”

  “I’m not supposed to talk about any of this.”

  “You can trust me,” I say.

  “I know.”

  Ethan takes my hand, pulling me into the hallway. We scurry down the hall, amidst the throng of students, and duck into a maintenance closet. Ethan pulls the door shut behind us.

  “My family, my adoptive family, has been able to maintain peace for a long time,” Ethan says.

  “With the vampires?”

  “No. With the other wolves,” Ethan says. “This entire region is dominated by the McMillan clan. A very large and powerful wolf pack. Very deadly. We’ve made a treaty with them and have been able to maintain our independence.”

  “Those are the wolves that have been after me?”

  “Yes. They believe you are the one.”

  “Why do they think that?” I ask.

  “They are just following orders.” Ethan says.

  “Orders from who?” I ask.

  Ethan’s face tenses. He doesn’t want to say—it’s almost as if he’s afraid to say it out loud. After a moment, he steers the conversation back to the McMillan clan. “They are threatening my family. If we don’t help them kill you, our treaty will end. They will attack and destroy my family.”

  I swallow hard, and my throat dries out.

  “Because I have associated with you, and protected you from the McMillan wolves, my pack had no choice but to shun me. That means Olivia must shun me as well,” Ethan says.

  My eyes fill with tears, and I’ve got a lump in my throat that is starting to burn.

  “I think you and Olivia might actually get along under different circumstances,” Ethan says, with an ironic chuckle.

  “Why would you risk all of that for me?” I say, trying to hold back the tears. My lip quivering.

  Ethan reaches his hand caressing my cheek. His ice blue eyes gaze over me. He leans in and kisses me softly.

  A flash of light fills the dim closet. The janitor has whipped open the door and is standing in the doorway, yelling for us to get out. Ethan and I shuffle out, stepping around the janitor’s rolling bucket and mop.

  “We’ve got to find a way to prove you’re not the one,” Ethan says.

  I nod.

  The bell is about to ring, and Ethan kisses me on the forehead, then dashes away down the hall. I see Lucas watching from
down the hall. His eyes locked on mine. He looks heartbroken. I flash a thin smile and a tentative wave. He turns and walks away.

  I scurry off in the opposite direction, trying to make it to class in time.

  CHAPTER 29

  “WHY DIDN’T YOU call me back last night?” I ask.

  “Not here,” Jen says, dumping books in her locker, pulling others out. I manage to catch up with her after History class, but she’s being all cloak and dagger. She stuffs her leather bound grimoire in the locker. “Meet me in the parking lot right after school,” Jen says. She’s nervous and frazzled. She keeps scanning the hallway. “And watch your back.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “She’s agreed to meet with you.”

  “Who?”

  Jen leans into my ear, whispering, “Cerise.” She leans back, staring at me with grim eyes.

  “Who’s Cerise?” I ask.

  Jen instantly clasps a hand over my mouth. “We’ll talk about this later,” she says, and dashes away.

  After class, I meet Jen in the parking lot and hop in her dad’s car. A smooth, cushy black Cadillac SUV. I called Jake earlier and told him that Jen and I were going shopping, and that he didn’t need to pick me up.

  The Cadillac lumbers up into the mountains. The big tires glide across the flawless asphalt road. The smell of new leather fills the air. The warm afternoon sun feels good on my face. Jen drives slow and cautious. She grips the steering wheel, eyes glued to the road. She actually breaks around corners. It’s quite a contrast to her former, reckless self.

  “Let’s establish some ground rules,” Jen says. “Cerise doesn’t like strangers. Speak only when spoken to. Don’t make her angry.”

  “She sounds nice,” I say.

  “Cerise is really cool. She’s like family to me. But she can have a bit of a temper. And believe me, you don’t want to get on her bad side.”

  “Why? Who is she?”

  “She is the most powerful living witch. She is a direct descendent of Helena,” Jen says.

  “Who is Helena?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Why are we going to see her?” I ask.

  “She’s my mentor, she’ll know what to do about your whole situation.”

  We turn down a private drive and approach the two-story stone Tudor cottage. It looks like something out of a fairy tale. Beautifully trimmed hedges and rose bushes. A small moat surrounds the structure. Large oak trees, with meandering branches, ensconce the home. Jen parks and we step out of the SUV.

  We walk the stone pathway toward the house, crossing over the arched wooden bridge that traverses the moat. The grass and hedges are greener than green. Everything looks a little surreal. As we draw closer to the front door, I notice the roses change colors. It’s as if they sense our presence. Before Jen can knock on the large wooden door, it opens by itself. Slow and creaking, it reveals the entrance foyer.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say.

  Jen nudges me in the ribs. Then she calls out, “Cerise? It’s me. Jen.”

  “Come on in, dear,” a voice calls out.

  Jan steps inside, and I follow. The door slams shut behind us. I have to admit, it’s a little spooky.

  Cerise rounds the corner with a bright smile on her face. It’s almost like she’s gliding across the floor. She’s beautiful, with emerald eyes, pale skin, and wavy red hair. She looks to be about 25 years old, at most, but has an odd ringlet of gray hair.

  “You must be Jennifer’s friend, Madison?” she says, giving me a big hug. Her flowing hair catches on my earring, almost pulling it out. I wince with pain, until the strands of Cerise's hair break, releasing the earring.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say.

  “Please don’t call me ma’am. I’m only 325 years old. Not a hag just yet,” Cerise says.

  My eyes grow wide, and my jaw drops.

  “Not bad for a 300-something, eh?” Cerise says.

  “Um, no. Not bad at all. If I can look half as good as you at 30, I’ll be doing okay,” I say.

  Cerise smiles. “I like your friend already, Jen.” She looks to Jen and winks. Jen seems relieved. Cerise's mesmerizing eyes find mine again. “I hope she hasn’t filled your head with horrible tales about me.”

  “No, not at all. Jen tells me wonderful things about you,” I say.

  Cerise smiles. “Good. I’m not all fire and brimstone. And I hardly ever turn anyone into a toad.”

  I smile back at her, a little unnerved. She’s not anything like Jen described her to be. She seems really sweet.

  “Please, come into the parlor and have a seat,” Cerise says. She leads us into a room adjacent to the foyer.

  “This is a very beautiful home you have,” I say.

  “Thank you. It’s very cozy,” Cerise says. “So, Jen says you’re having boy problems.”

  I look at Jen confused. This is a little more than boy problems. I begin to wonder what, exactly, she has told Cerise.

  “Right, boy problems,” I stammer.

  “So, what do you need? A love spell?” Cerise asks, bright eyed. “First loves are so wonderful.” She sighs, reminiscing.

  “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that,” I say.

  “Isn’t it always,” Cerise says.

  “I don’t need a spell to make him love me. That wouldn’t be genuine,” I say.

  Cerise’s face twists up, offended. Jen glares at me. I feel my heart thumping in my chest.

  “I mean, I think he genuinely loves me already,” I say. “With a spell, I’d never really know how he felt.”

  Cerise ponders this a moment. Her face softens. “Ah, so you seek true love? Even better.” She smiles, leaning forward. My eyes catch sight of her pendant, swinging in front of her bosom. Two silver rings, dangling from a silver chain. They glimmer in the sunlight that beams in through the bay window. “So, if he already loves you, what’s the problem? Ex-girlfriend? Disapproving parents? Going to different colleges?”

  I glance over at Jen. She gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head that says: don’t bring it up just yet. Jen clearly hasn’t told Cerise everything.

  “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?” Cerise says. “It’s not like I don’t already know.” Her words hang in the air a moment. Then Cerise's eyes blaze at Jen. “Do you take me for a fool?”

  “No,” Jen stammers, terrified.

  “One doesn’t get to my age without a little foresight,” Cerise says, her eyes narrowing.

  “I’m sorry, I should have told you everything. Please forgive me,” Jen says.

  Cerise looks to me, and her scowl fades. “I have foreseen your coming for centuries.”

  “What do you know about the prophecy?” I ask.

  “Everything. I am the one who foretold it,” Cerise says. She smiles. “Hold out your hand.”

  I extend my arm, my hand palm up. Cerise glides to a bureau and slides open a drawer. She returns to me with a greenish-blue gemstone. “For your sake, I hope I’m wrong,” she says, gravely.

  She places the stone in my palm. I recognize it as alexandrite. The same type of stone that was in the pendant that Jen snatched from my neck. Just like the pendant, the stone changes from teal to glowing red. Rays of light bathe the room. I feel the heat radiating from the stone.

  After a moment, Cerise covers the stone with her hand, grasping it from my palm. The room seems almost dim now without the glowing light. Cerise replaces the stone in the bureau, and returns to her seat. She is quiet, with a solemn look on her face.

  “What does all of this mean?” I ask.

  “You seem like a nice girl. I’m sorry, but it means that you must die,” Cerise says, with a malevolent gaze.

  I try to shift in my seat, but I can’t. I can’t seem to move from the chair at all. It’s like my arms are restrained to the arm rests. I start to panic. My heart beats faster. I feel sweat bead in the small of my back.

  “Why are you doing th
is,” Jen asks.

  Cerise waves her hand, and Jen’s mouth disappears. Gone without a trace. Just one continuous flap of skin from her nose to her chin. Jen’s muffled shrieks and moans fill the air.

  “Silence, or I’ll take your voice box too,” Cerise snaps.

  If it wasn’t clear before, it certainly is now. Cerise wants to kill me.

  CHAPTER 30

  JEN AND I are shackled to a wall in a dungeon below Cerise's cottage. But these aren’t your typical iron shackles. They are skeletal arms. Bony protrusions extending from the wall, clasping my wrists and keeping me in place. The house is alive with evil magic. A living entity to serve Cerise's will. Jen still doesn’t have a mouth. I don’t know if she will ever have one again.

  “The wolves will be here shortly,” Cerise says. For whatever reason, Cerise doesn’t want to kill me herself.

  “Why are you helping the wolves?” I ask, worrying this is the last thing I’ll ever say.

  Cerise just glares at me.

  “I think there’s been some kind of big misunderstanding. I’m in love with a werewolf, so that pretty much negates this whole bring doom to the werewolves thing.”

  “What do you know about love?” Cerise asks. “You’re only 17. Just because your heart flutters and your legs quiver doesn’t mean it’s love.”

  “This coming from a woman who’s over 300 and still single,” I say.

  Cerise scowls at me. Her eyes narrow with fury. “I’m going to make sure you suffer.”

  I swallow hard. My throat is dry. I shouldn’t have said that, but sometimes words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

  Cerise's eyes light up. “Ah, our guests have arrived.” The door to the dungeon opens on its own accord. Two muscular men enter. One a sandy-blonde, the other a brunette. Both with amber eyes and fierce scowls. Werewolves, in mostly human form. They march toward Jen and I.

  “Take them from the property and dispose of them,” Cerise says. “Let no harm come to them on this land. Do you understand?”