Wicked Witch (The Royals: Witch Court Book 1)

by Megan Montero

  “I’ve kept her hidden from Alataris all her life. I can do it for a few more days.”

  “No, you can’t. How do you think we found her tonight? She’s expelling magic. It swirls around her like a beacon. Do you know what he’ll do to her if he finds her now? Before she’s been trained or can use her powers to defend herself?”

  Catherine tossed the spoon into the sink. It clattered around the large white basin. “He has been plotting this for the past thousand years. Everyone knows he wants to take the queens’ powers for his own and use them to rule all of Evermore. There’s nothing anyone can do to stop him from doing that. He’s done it every cycle, every time new queens are born.”

  “But this time could be different. We could beat him.”

  Catherine rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think every knight who has come before you says the same thing? I just want a little more time with my daughter before she is pushed into a life she never asked for.”

  It was the exact thing I wanted my parents to do for me. I’d wanted time with them, to live a normal family life. Sitting here now with Catherine, I wasn’t sure I should deny her what little time Zinnia had left to be a normal teenager. But as her knight, I had to try to help Catherine see that Zinnia would be safer at Evermore Academy than here. Even now, I took chances with the other queens by having them out in the open. At least I knew they were safe each night when Beckett portaled them back to Hexia. But even that took a great deal of planning.

  I shrugged. “No, it’s not too much to ask. But letting her go Evermore Academy will help her learn to control her power so she won’t accidentally kill someone. Plus, the Fallen will be there. She can’t get more protected than at a place where the knights and the Fallen work together.”

  The Fallen were the original Supernaturals of Evermore, the very first to walk the earth. They ruled Evermore with an iron fist, and no one, not even Alataris, would have the guts to go up against them.

  She nodded her head slowly. “I’ll send her, but I want to let her have one more day as a normal teenager. Just one more day before her whole life changes.”

  Before I left for the Guardian Trials, I’d wanted just one day to live with my family before it all changed. My family had denied me that, but I wouldn’t deny her. “I can’t say no to that. You’re her mother. But I can’t just leave her here unprotected tonight.” I held my hands out to my sides. “So, where am I staying?”

  Catherine gazed at me with wide eyes for a second before she put the lid back on the ice cream container and threw it back into the freezer. “The basement is fully finished. You can sleep on the couch down there. But don’t tell Zinnia. And you have to leave for school way before she even gets up.”

  A smile pulled at the side of my lips. “Yes ma’am. But I think I’ll follow her to school, if you don’t mind.” When she opened her mouth to protest, I added, “At a distance. She won’t see me.”

  “Fine.” She pointed to a door just off the kitchen.

  I turned and walked straight for it. When I twisted the handle and pulled, she called after me. “I was at the trials, Tucker Brand. I hope you fight as bravely for my daughter as you did back then.”

  “I swear it.” I meant every word I said. I would protect Zinnia with my life, not just because she was a queen but because I felt an instant pull toward her. A need to be closer to her so bone deep it tugged at me even now. I wanted to march up the stairs, haul a chair next to her bed and keep watch over her to make sure she was okay.

  When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I flipped the light switch, and the cool damp smell of the basement surrounded me. Across from me was a long very old, beat-up couch. Green cement floors ran the expanse of the house. Finished basement, my ass. I lumbered over to the couch and pulled my cell from my pocket, then sent a quick text to the group, letting them know I was staying to keep an eye on Zin.

  As I sunk into the cushions and rested my head against the back of the couch, I couldn’t stop thinking of Beckett and Zinnia together. Nausea rolled my stomach. Why him? She didn’t fit him. She was too smart, too powerful, too beautiful for the likes of him. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at it. Restlessness overcame me, and suddenly, I didn’t want to sit anymore. I got up and started pacing the floor. How could it be him?

  I ripped the leather cuff I wore from my wrist, ready to curse the fact that my skin would be unmarked, but when I looked down there it was, identical to Zinnia’s. A swirling black mark with tiny drops of glittering silver…I’ll be damned…

  Chapter 4

  ZInnia

  It always starts the same way. I can feel it coming on, but I’m in too deep and can’t stop it. This nightmare, this dream, overcomes me nearly every night. Though I fight against it, I can’t stop it. I brace myself and breathe deeply, knowing that it has to play out.

  Outside, the sky is dark and dotted with stars. My mother bends down to look me in the eye as she zips my thick pink winter coat. The light of youth still tickles her heart-shaped face. The only evidence of her age is the tiny lines around her bright sapphire eyes. They appear only when she smiles at me.

  “Are you ready?” She leans down and presses her lips to my forehead, giving me a small kiss. Then she runs her fingers through my hair, playing with the curls at the end of it before she pulls on my wool winter hat. “Hands up.”

  I hold my tiny hand out to her as she slides my gloves on my hands snuggly, making sure to tuck them into my coat sleeves just the way I like them.

  “Are they good?”

  I nod up at her and hold my hand out to her. “Hold it, Mommy.”

  I’m so confident that I know she will hold my hand the whole way. I can feel the smile spread across my face as she leads me toward the back door.

  My mom stops for a moment to bid the rest of our family farewell, “Dad, we’re leaving now. Do you think you should walk us?”

  I always try to picture my grandfather’s face, but the memory never surfaces. Yet the dream kept dragging me deeper, the way it always did.

  “Catherine, it’s only four houses down. Less than half a block. I think you’ll be okay,” he calls back from somewhere down the hall.

  My mom shrugs her shoulders. Her long brown curly hair bounces up and down with the movement. She squeezes my hand in a reassuring gesture. “Okay see you later. ‘Night.”

  My mom looks down at me and gives me a huge smile. “Let’s go.”

  The moment she turns the doorknob, the crisp cool air bites my cheeks. I huddle in close to her side, knowing that we will only be out in the late winter evening for a short period of time. She gives my hand a little squeeze.“It’ll only take a few minutes, then we will be home.”

  “Okay.” My voice is so small. I’m so young and trusting.

  She leads me out into the night. As we step out onto the back porch, she looks up into the midnight sky and closes her eyes, as if she is sun bathing in the summer. The light from the low-hanging full moon floods her face. Someday, I’ll be just as beautiful as she is, just like my mom. Not wanting to miss out on a moment to be like her, I turn my face toward the large moon and close my eyes as well. Like puzzle pieces falling into place, I feel the warmth of the moon, the air on my skin and the stillness of the night.

  I peek my eyes open. “Mommy, what is that?”

  “What is what, darling?” Her voice is so calm, so sweet.

  I point up at the moon. “I think the moon has a boo boo.”

  Nervousness laces her voice. “Zinnia, tell me exactly what you see.”

  “I see it. The moon has a boo boo. It’s bleeding. Do you see it?” To me, there it is bright as day, red dripping down it.

  A shadow passes over her face. “Yes, baby, I do.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “Oh, honey. One day when you’re older I will explain everything to you. But right now, we have to get home.” She tugs me along. Her steps quicken as we move. My little legs have a hard time keeping up with her
, but I try my best.

  As we walk down the slate steps and round the house, flurries dance across the sky and tickled my nose. Each of them is perfect and different. I giggle when one lands on the tip of my nose and others land lightly on my eyelashes. I feel like the night and the moon are welcoming me into the world for the first time. The moon is so bright I can make out every house, plant and street sign. Everything is painted in dark shades of grays, blues and shadows of the night.

  I want to stay and dance around with the snowflakes, but my mother keeps dragging me forward. “Come on, Zinnia. We have to get inside.”

  The exhaustion I felt before is all but forgotten, and I feel like we are in a candy shop. I am alive, connected to the earth around me and things that only the imagination dreams about are real. One by one, the little men appear, each wearing the same outfit. Dozens of them flood the street with their long-sleeved white shirts that hang nearly to their knees and sleep caps pulled low over their eyes. They each hold a small white bag filled with snow or white dust—I’m not sure. Their tiny bowed legs are covered with tight navy-blue slacks and each wear comfy slippers on their feet. They remind me of the pictures I’ve seen of Santa’s elves.

  I tug on my mom’s hand. “Look, Mommy, elves.”

  “Shh… Quiet, Zin.” She presses her finger to her lips and whispers, “They are not elves. They are the trolls of sleep. And they do not like to be disturbed while they are working.”

  “Working?”

  “Yep, they’re working and can get very grouchy when you bother them.”

  But as I look closer, I see each of them throwing handfuls of dust high in the air, aiming at the dark houses that line the streets. Some are even laughing and dancing in the street, as if the very thought of dust falling made them happy.

  I giggle once more with the desire to join them. At this time of night, there wouldn’t be any cars in the street and I’d be free to move among them.

  “Zinniaaaa.” A sweet voice beckons to me. I turn to see where the voice had come from. But before I get all the way around, my mother jerks my arm and sucks in a deep breath.

  “Damn! Zinnia, come on. We need to go.” She tugs at me again.

  But this time, I plant my feet and tune her out. I need to follow that voice. I have to find where it came from. I pull at her hold on my fingers. The only thing keeping me back is the death-grip my mother has on my hand.

  When I finally spot the figure in the middle of the street, I’m surprised to see a girl the same age as me standing alone among the sleep trolls. Her small slight stature is not comforting. Right away, I notice the darkness that envelopes her. As she spins playfully in the street, joining in with the trolls, her black wool dress rustles heavily. The high collar is tight across her neck, as if the unforgiving fabric could strangle her. The heavy layers fall to her knees stiffly. The sleeves puff out around her willowy arms and synch in tight at her wrist. Before, I never knew her name, but now I recognize her as a very young Ophelia.

  The moon lights me up from the inside out, but as bright as I am is as dark as as Ophelia is, as if the moon had chosen to ignore her. Her hair is cut short and stops at her chin, pointing out in different directions. With pale skin that has a blue tinge, her lips show no sign of life, as if they too hold the blue tinge of death. When my eyes meet the black soulless orbs of hers, I feel the chill of the night run through me.

  “Zinnia, Zinnia, come with me.” Ophelia curls her fingers in my direction, beckoning with her long boney hands. A slow smile spreads across her face, and my heart races as cold death seeps into my bones.

  “Follow me, Zinnia. He wants to meet you ever so badly.” She twirls around and throws her arms up.

  “Who? Who wants to meet me?” I take a step toward her, wanting to dance alongside her.

  She crooks her finger at me again. “He does. Come to me now and I’ll take you to him.”

  “Where are we going to go?” I want to go to her. I pull against my mother’s hold on my arms. I’m helpless against her.

  Then the bony girl turns her blank stare down the street in the opposite direction. A streetlight flares to life, highlighting a large dark house that I had never seen before. It stood just behind a watery wall. Though my family lived there, I never noticed this building with its rickety porch and dilapidated exterior. Wooden shingles hang listlessly from the building, and holes riddle the remaining intact wooden planks. The windows are all dark, but somehow in the dead of night, I can see a figure moving from within.

  The dark girl smiles at me with pointed teeth. “See? He awaits you. Come to me now and I’ll take you.”

  I nod taking another step in her direction, tears streaming down my face. I know I’ll never see my mother again if I go with her. In the pit of my stomach, I knew it, yet I kept trying to move forward. “Yes, I will come with you.”

  My senses screamed out for me to run, but I am helpless and feel the need to obey her. A sharp biting sting burned hot across my face. I shake my head, trying to lessen the splitting pain in my cheek. Where had that come from? I turned to see my mother screaming frantically in my face. I tuned into the moment, and her voice came through to me clearly.

  “Zinnia! Don’t listen to her! Don’t follow her. We need to run. We will be safe at the house. RUN! NOW!”

  I nodded up at her and turn to leave.

  “Zinnia, don’t go yet,” the girl whispered from down the street, but I heard her as if she were standing next to me. I stop once more, torn between following her and listening to my mother.

  “I’m sorry, Zinnia.” My mother whimpers as she drops my hand and grabs onto the closest sleep troll, robbing him of his bag. Hastily, she stuffed her hand into the white sack and threw a fistful of dust in my eyes.

  Sleep begins to overwhelm me, and I feel my mom scoop me up in her arms and run as her breaths heave in and out with exertion. She chanted under her breath over and over again, but I can’t make out the words. I’m jostled as she runs up the steps to the house and tossed my limp body to the floor. My lids fluttered as darkness dragged me under, but I fought it long enough to watch my mother slice her hand open and draw symbols around me in blood. Why would she do that?

  The world begins to dim. The last thing I heard before sleep overwhelms me is Ophelia’s shrill scream.

  I shot up in my bed, taking deep breaths to calm myself. My shirt was plastered to my body by the usual sheen of sweat that followed this recurring night terror that I’d had since I was a child. I looked at my bedside clock. The bright red lights told me it was 7 a.m. I glanced around the room to find Elle perched at the foot of my bed. I scrambled down to the bottom of it and pulled her in for a hug. “Oh my god, Elle. Are you okay?”

  Elle stiffened within my arms. “Um, yeah, I’m fine. Is something wrong with you?”

  “After last night…” I pulled back, looking her in the eye. “After last night, I thought I might not ever see you again.”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve never seen anyone have an allergic reaction to strawberries like that before.” She shrugged out of my grip and walked over to my closet. “Are you okay?”

  “Allergic to strawberries? I’m not allergic to strawberries.” I sat back in my bed, rubbing my hands over my face.

  “I beg to differ. You ate one berry and then, boom, passed out and started babbling about fire wings, witches and all kinds of crap.” She picked up a pair of boots from my bedroom floor and set them to the side. “Honestly, Zin, the things that go on in your head.”

  “Hold up a second.” I slashed my hand through the air. “Last night happened, Elle. We were in a fight, and you… you passed out.”

  Elle shook her head, sending blond locks fluttering about her face. “I definitely wasn’t the one who passed out last night. Thank goodness Tucker was there and knew exactly what to do.” She walked to the door and closed it the rest of the way. “Could you imagine if we had to get your mom to pick us up? Talk about being grounded for life.”

  Brig
ht light streamed in through the white gauzy curtains. I rubbed at my eyes. “Tucker saved me from a reaction to strawberries?” None of this was making sense. “I know what I saw last night, Elle. We were attacked.”

  Elle plopped back down on the foot of the bed and narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t you think if we were attacked, I’d remember it?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But nothing. I’m telling you, you just had a bad dream or something. We got home safe, thanks to Tucker. Now get dressed. We’re going to be late for your first day.”

  I fell back into my pillow and pulled the blanket over my head. “Ugh, school.”

  Elle ripped the blanket off of me. “Come on. My mom is waiting for us downstairs.”

  “Fine.” I rolled my eyes and climbed out of the bed. I could feel my hair standing on end and my wrinkled clothes hanging off of my body. I loped around my room, collecting my underwear from the drawer, jeans from the chair in the corner of my room, and a black mesh shirt and solid tank top from the closet. “Gonna shower.”

  Elle wrinkled her nose as I walked by. “Yeah, you better. You smell like burnt death.”

  I grabbed the doorknob and glanced over my shoulder. “Thanks.” Then I stepped through and closed the door behind me.

  As I stood at the top of the stairs about to go into the bathroom across the hall, I froze when I heard the strain in my mother’s voice. I pressed up against the wall and leaned over to the side, trying to hear their every word.

  “I don’t know, Maggie. You should’ve seen her.” My mom sighed. “It was scary.”

  Maggie Calliwell was Elle’s mother and a long-time family friend. I could picture her sitting across from my mom at the table in their usual spots, each of them with their own cup of coffee. My mom’s curly hair would be in a messy ball on the top of her head, while Elle’s mom sat impeccably dressed in some kind of cardigan sweater set, her blond hair held back with a clip.