A Hex a Day (Which Village Book 1)

by L. C. Mortimer

  The front door opened before I could turn the knob, and there stood my grandmother: tall, lean, and silvery.

  Fierce.

  My grandma was fierce.

  Everything about her screamed strong. She was taller than me, which was sometimes hard for me to grasp since at 5’7”, I wasn’t a tiny girl. Although she was getting older, she still had strong muscles that were clearly defined. Whether it was from being a witch or from years of exercise and hard work, I wasn’t sure. I just knew that my grandma wasn’t the type of person anyone messed with.

  Not if they knew what was good for them.

  “You’re late,” she said simply, but she glared when she did. Her eyes narrowed a little: not too much. She didn’t quite look mad. It was more like, a cautious sort of look, as though she was waiting for me to say something first. I knew exactly what she wanted from me. She wanted me to admit that working in the shop was a bad choice and that I was ready to stay home with her.

  After all, even if I couldn’t use magic, I could still learn about it, and my grandmother loved it when I studied.

  “Not by much,” I responded, but I knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say. My grandmother didn’t yell at me or raise her voice. She never had. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. Besides, disappointment was so much worse than yelling, anyway. If I wanted to trick Gram, I should have acted stupid. I should have pretended like I didn’t know just how late it was. Then I could have pretended that I was lollygagging or chatting with someone and just completely lost track of the time.

  My answer let her know that I knew I was late, and that there was a reason for it.

  “What happened?” She said gently. Her eyes softened when she looked at me. Mr. Boo, my familiar, came out of the cabin and rubbed against my legs. I reached down and picked up the fat, black-and-white cat and held him in my arms for a minute. Somehow, Boo always managed to calm my racing heart when I felt stressed. I might not do magic, but Grams had given him to me just the same.

  “Every witch should have a familiar,” she had told me that day. Boo had been a full-grown cat already. No one knew exactly how old he was or where he’d come from, but Gram had chosen him and he turned out to be just as special as she thought he would.

  “It’s nothing, Mémère,” I told her. “I just got caught up at work.”

  “Did you get busy at work, Maxine, or did someone make you stay late out of spite?” She didn’t ask it in an accusing way, but I knew what she was thinking. Mémère didn’t like me working for my boss. She didn’t understand why I wanted to work or why I thought it was important that I have a job of some sort.

  Any sort.

  In her mind, my time would be better spent helping out on the property, working in the yard, or memorizing spells from the big, heavy book she kept on the kitchen table. The pages were worn with years of use, but Grams told me every day how important those spells were.

  Not that I’d ever use them.

  The little cabin we lived in was surrounded by a wide yard and then trees for as far as the eye could see. Our driveway itself was almost a mile long. That’s how hidden away we were. Unless someone was looking for us specifically, they’d never find us. We didn’t even get mail at the house. Everything went to a post office box in town that one of us would check on a weekly basis.

  Mémère and I were isolated, and she worried about me.

  “You know Tony likes to have me stay late sometimes,” I finally said. It wasn’t a lie, but it was sort of a half-truth. I didn’t know if Tony actually liked having me stay or if he just liked having me miserable. Did I get paid for staying late? Yeah. Of course. This wasn’t some sort of illegal café. That said, it was still a nightmare working late after I’d already been on my feet for an eight-hour shift.

  My grandmother sighed and shook her head.

  “This man is no good for you,” she said.

  “He’s not my man,” I pointed out. I didn’t date. Mémère knew that. A lot of things kept me from relationships and one of the biggest reasons was that I didn’t want to date a magic user. It wasn’t my thing. I couldn’t use magic. I had never been able to get even the simplest spell to work. My grandmother did her best to train me in the ways of her people, but somehow, I’d just never managed to pick things up.

  If it bothered her, she was kind enough not to tell me.

  Still, I didn’t want to date someone who could use magic. Part of it was a safety thing. Self-preservation was important and I didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who might do a love spell on me. I just hated the idea of not knowing what was going on.

  I hated the idea that someone might take advantage of me.

  “He’s still cruel,” Mémère said. She shook her head. She was disappointed. In me? In the situation? I wasn’t sure, but I nodded in agreement and moved past her and into the house. I dropped my bag on the living room sofa and walked into the attached kitchen. The book with Mémère’s spells, as always, was spread out in the center of the table. Gram had been working on spells this afternoon. Herbs and pots and potions and bottles were on every flat surface in the room.

  “What were you working on?” I asked her, but she only shook her head gently. Grams never liked to talk about the spells she was doing. I didn’t really understand why it had to be a secret. She wanted me to trust her, but there were so many things she wouldn’t reveal to me.

  “Are you hungry?” Mémère asked, and I knew there was to be no discussion on what she was trying to do with her spell book. It didn’t make sense to me. Sometimes it seemed like she had just as many secrets as Mom and Dad.

  “I ate at work,” I lied. She looked at me carefully. Was she trying to see if I was lying? I totally was, but this time, there was no way for her to tell. Not unless she used some sort of truth serum on me. I wouldn’t put it past her, but this wasn’t something I was ready to talk about today. Not with Grams.

  “If you change your mind…” Her voice trailed off and I nodded.

  “Don’t worry. I’m 19, Grams. I’m old enough to make myself something to eat.”

  I kissed her softly on the cheek and turned to the little staircase that led upstairs. Our home was very cozy, but it was also very small. The second floor of the cabin had only two little bedrooms and a tiny bathroom with a sink, a toilet, and a shower. I went up the stairs and sat at the very top for a minute. I listened to see if I could figure out what Gram was up to.

  I heard her bustling around in the kitchen for awhile, touching things and whispering, but she was so quiet that I couldn’t make out the words. When Boo came up the narrow staircase and rubbed against my legs, I reached for him and pet him softly. Instantly, he started to purr.

  “At least I have you,” I whispered, and I pulled him into my lap. I held Boo for a long time. Then I stood up and carried him into my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I locked the door. It didn’t matter. If Gram needed to come in, she could cast a spell and be in my space in like, two seconds.

  But the lock made me feel like I was tucking myself away from everything: my boss, my job, my lack of friends. I used it because it gave me a little bit of security I wouldn’t otherwise have. I lay on my bed and looked at the ceiling.

  “What am I going to do, Boo?”

  He purred and plopped his fat body onto my tummy. I pet him as I looked up at the white popcorn finish on the ceiling. I imagined that I was back home – at my real home – with my mom and dad. They’d been gone for years. Sometimes it felt like forever. I missed them still.

  People always said that life got better. They said things like “time heals all wounds” and “one day, it won’t hurt so bad,” but that wasn’t true, was it? Things still hurt. I still missed the way my mom sang songs while she cooked spaghetti and the way my dad laughed as he danced in the kitchen with her. I missed the way they read me bedtime stories and how they used to count the stars with me. I missed everything about them.

  Mémère was a wonderful person. She
was kind and brave and I was so incredibly lucky to have her, but…

  But she wasn’t my mom.

  And sometimes I just wanted my mom.

  Finally, I got up and started getting ready for bed. I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth and my hair. Then I came back, brushed Boo, and picked out my outfit for the next day. I double checked my work schedule and figured out what time I needed to get up in order to make it in for my shift. Then I closed my eyes.

  I tried to fall asleep, but I laid in bed thinking for what seemed like hours.

  I heard a crash, and Mémère let out a string of swear words. She would be working late into the night, I guessed, and I had no idea what she was doing down there.

  What was so important that she couldn’t tell me about it?

  And why did I have the feeling it wasn’t anything good?

  Want to keep reading? Check out Hybrid Academy: Year One.

  Just Another Day in the Zombie Apocalypse

  Hey reader! Are you a fan of zombie novels? Adventures? Stories that make you wonder how well you’d fare in the apocalypse? Check out the first chapter of Just Another Day in the Zombie Apocalypse.

  ***

  Alice opened her eyes.

  She immediately regretted her decision.

  Heat swept over her body. The sun was blaring, and if she had to guess, she was probably burnt. Badly.

  Then again, maybe not.

  She sat up and looked around, shocked to see billows of smoke surrounding the building.

  Fuck.

  Was it on fire?

  Had she really slept that long?

  “Get up,” she shook Mark, who had fallen asleep next to her, and tried to wake him up. “Something’s wrong,” she insisted.

  “Yeah,” he grumbled, rolling over. “You’re waking me up before noon.”

  Something wasn’t right. She stood and walked to the ledge of the apartment building. They had slept on the roof last night after the party. It was just a normal party: nothing crazy, so what was with the sky being so weird? The city wasn’t any louder than usual, but the smoke? That was too close to them for her to be comfortable with.

  Alice looked out over the city and her heart dropped. She was on the roof of a 12-story building overlooking the city of Holbrook, and from what she could see, the world was in chaos. There were cars parked in the middle of the road, people walking and running, suitcases everywhere. Dropped purses lined the street, along with trash and food.

  What the hell was going on?

  It must be some sort of national emergency or natural disaster, but what could it be? She couldn’t see where the fire was. There had to be a fire. There was so much smoke that surely, there was a fire. She just couldn’t see it yet.

  “Something is wrong,” she repeated, but her voice must have sounded more urgent because this time, Mark opened his eyes and sat up.

  “What is it?”

  “I think there’s a fire. I can’t see it.”

  The two of them moved over to the edge of the roof and peered down into the city.

  “What the hell?” Mark muttered. “Was there an earthquake or something?”

  “An earthquake that caused a fire? I don’t think so.”

  They watched as a car crashed into a fire hydrant and water burst out, spilling onto the road.

  “What happened to the fire department?” Mark asked, echoing Alice’s thoughts.

  “Better question: what happened to everyone?” They stared at the madness. Helplessness filled Alice’s heart as she was stuck watching the insanity from their position on the roof. She tried to fight the growing panic in her chest, but soon she had to admit there was a problem, a serious one, and not one they’d be able to solve while they stood around on the roof.

  “We need to go,” she said.

  “Go where?” A groggy voice said from behind them, and they turned to see Kyle. Alice exchanged knowing glances with Mark. They had both forgotten Kyle was there.

  “Something’s wrong,” Alice said, walking back to him. She took his hand and yanked him to his feet. Kyle was a scrawny kid, maybe about 150 pounds soaking wet, and gangly. He reminded Alice of someone’s little brother.

  Maybe everyone’s little brother.

  Kyle lived down the hall from Alice and Mark and he worked as some sort of computer repair guy. Alice wasn’t really sure. The only thing she knew about Kyle is that he was awful at drinking games and she had beat him every round last night.

  “What is it? Like a drill or something?” Kyle rubbed his eyes and moved to the edge of the roof where Mark was still standing. He peered over and immediately jumped back. “Zombies!” He said.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Mark told him, but Kyle was certain.

  “We always knew it was going to happen,” Kyle said. “You jocks didn’t believe us, but we knew. We always knew.” He shook his head back and forth, as if trying to convince himself of the reality, then turned to Alice. “We need to get out of here.”

  “I don’t want to overreact,” Alice said hesitantly, but to her surprise, Mark agreed with Kyle.

  “I know you’re nervous that we’re going to think you’re a worry wart,” he said, not unkindly. “But this is serious, Al. Even if it’s not zombies,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s something. And I don’t think we should wait around to see what happens next.”

  Alice looked once more down at the city, as if staring would make everything change, make everything go back to normal, but she knew as she looked over Holbrook that nothing would be the same again.

  Amid the smoke, amid the flames, amid the cars honking and blaring, she suddenly saw something that made her gag, then vomit over the edge of the roof.

  “Al, you okay? Al, what is it?” Mark was at her side, rubbing her back. She couldn’t stop puking, so she pointed, down into the crowd.

  She knew the second Mark saw the Infected eating a person he’d pulled from a car because Mark stopped touching her and said, “Let’s go. Let’s go now.”

  Somehow, Alice managed to stop throwing up long enough to move her feet. She grabbed her cell phone and slipped her flip-flops on before they headed downstairs.

  “Pack a bag,” Mark said. “Only essential items. Grab what you need, especially food, if you have it. Meet in the hall in ten.”

  “Got it,” Kyle said, and scurried down the stairs to the top floor of the apartment building. “Watch out, guys. Power’s out,” he called back up.

  Alice looked at Mark and back down the stairs. Was she ready to descend into the darkness? She wasn’t sure. This was so not how she had planned to spend her weekend. Had she wanted to drink? Yes. Had she wanted to party? A little. But zombies? Not so much.

  If they even were zombies, that is, because in reality, who really knew? Kyle was just a geek with an overactive imagination. What did he even know about chaos in the world? Maybe there really had been an earthquake or a tornado or something completely natural that could be conquered with a bit of time, patience, and help from the National Guard. Maybe there was a perfectly logical explanation for what she thought she’d seen looking down on the town.

  There had to be.

  “Alice,” Mark nudged her. “Come on. It’s going to be fine, okay? I promise.”

  She nodded. She could do this. She stepped carefully down the stairs, clutching the rail with one hand and holding her phone up as a light in the other. This floor was supposed to be used for storage, so it was abandoned and quiet. People rarely wandered up to the 12th floor unless they wanted to put their coats away for the winter.

  Alice got off the stairs and saw Kyle waiting patiently nearby. Mark followed her quickly down the stairs, then they went together down to the 11th floor where their apartments were.

  “I’ll meet you back here in five,” Kyle said, popping into his apartment.

  “Ditto,” Mark said. He turned to Alice. “You going to be okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’m fine.”

  She went to h
er apartment and fished her keys from her pocket, then unlocked the door. It was weird to see it so dark in the daytime and her hand automatically flicked the lights on.

  Nothing.

  “Come on, Alice,” she said out loud. “You can do this.” Her voice sounded strange in the darkness: forced, almost. She felt like she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to be, like she was being sneaky somehow. She knew it was stupid, that she was being silly, but she couldn’t quite knock the notion out of her head.

  Alice quickly crossed her tiny living room and opened the blinds to let some light into the room. Unfortunately, the natural light streaming in picked up on all the dust she had floating around her apartment. Gross. She really needed to be better at cleaning, but she was always so busy at work that she just didn’t put that much effort in at home. Now it showed.

  Alice kicked off her flip-flops. Then she grabbed her backpack from the kitchen counter and emptied out her library books. She had been planning on reading this weekend for work in preparation for a case they had coming up at the legal office where she worked, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen.

  Even if this was just a misunderstanding, as she hoped it was, or some sort of weird natural disaster, Alice wouldn’t be going to work this week. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach as she wondered what the hell had happened last night.

  Was she that drunk that she didn’t hear anything?

  Granted, she didn’t usually drink. Not much, anyway. She’d been a lightweight in college and even now as a recent graduate, she tended to stick with soda over beer.

  But last night had been about relaxing, unwinding. It had been a long week and her boss had been awful and she just wanted some time to herself.

  Was that really so bad?

  She opened her fridge and pulled out a couple of water bottles. Alice shoved them in her backpack, along with a jar of nuts and a bag of beef jerky. In her bedroom, she grabbed a clean set of clothes and looked longingly toward her bathroom. She wanted a shower. She felt gross. Maybe there was time for one.