Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Also by Madeline Freeman
About the Author
Moon Magic
Clearwater Witches #4
Madeline Freeman
Copyright © 2015 Madeline Freeman
Cover Art © 2015 Steven Novak
All rights reserved.
First eBook Edition: November 2015
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
For information:
http://www.madelinefreeman.net
Dedication
To Brian:
Thank you for believing in me, supporting me, and loving me.
And to the One who makes all things new.
Acknowledgments
Thank you Steven Novak for the fabulous cover.
Thank you Arran at Editing 720 for your services.
Chapter One
Krissa
The first one died because I trusted the wrong person and cast the wrong spell. I killed the second to save my father’s life—and to keep my town safe. But this is the only person I’ve wanted to kill out of pure hate.
It’s not that I’m looking for her. After picking up some supplies at my aunt Jodi’s shop, Tucker Ingram and I are headed up Main Street to his car when something catches my attention. I should’ve just kept walking. I should’ve ignored the flash in my peripheral vision as I passed Wide Awake Cafe.
But I didn’t. I turned and saw something that causes what little lunch Tucker convinced me to eat threaten to rush back up and splatter the pavement. Sitting at a high-top table among a group of people I recognize only vaguely from the track team is Owen Marsh. He runs a casual hand through his blond hair as he laughs at something someone says. But he’s not the one who draws my eye.
Her name is Laura or Lauren or Laurie. I’ve never had an occasion to find out anything about her. But now I wish I would have; I wish I knew everything there is to know about her. I study the way her dark blonde hair swishes around her shoulders in tight spiral curls, the soft line of her jaw, the way her lips curve when she looks at Owen. As her fingers trace lightly down his arm, it takes everything in me not to cast a spell to snap each one.
She’s flirting with him. Of course she is—why wouldn’t she? Owen is a great guy, a great catch. Any girl would be lucky to be with him.
I would know.
My body goes cold. Are they together now? I suddenly wish I paid more attention to the goings-on at school. How long have they been a couple? Or are things just beginning between them?
Tucker tugs at my elbow. He bends down to speak into my ear. Mere months ago such closeness would have made my skin crawl, but today I’m completely unaffected as his breath tickles my skin. “Come on, K. Griffin’s expecting us. We’ve got to get going.”
I know he knows why I stopped. I’m not sure if it’s better or worse that he isn’t drawing attention to it. I could ask him if he’s privy to any more information than I am, but it’s doubtful. As he’s honed his psychic abilities, his attendance at school has become increasingly erratic. He often shows up only for tests or quizzes, and even then I’m sure he pulls answers from the minds of others. He spends so much time at Griffin Holloway’s apartment I’m surprised Griffin hasn’t started charging him for a portion of the rent.
When I don’t leave immediately, Tucker sighs. “You want me to read them?”
I shake my head, panic flaring. If he reads them, I might have a better sense of what’s going on—but what if my suspicions are confirmed? Will that make me feel better? I doubt it.
He crosses his arms over his chest, the paper bag from Jodi’s shop crinkling in his hand. “Why don’t you just go talk to him? You know you want to. And I bet he wants you to.”
It’s this more than anything that gets me moving. How many times in the last four months has Owen tried to get me to talk to him? I don’t know if a number exists to accurately quantify it. And each time I pushed him away. Maybe I pushed him away one time too many. Maybe this is my punishment.
Not like I don’t deserve it.
I’m about to leave, about to follow Tucker over to his car, when Owen’s eyes flick up. Those beautiful, clear blue eyes land on my face, and for a moment the whole world melts away. It’s like there’s just the two of us. The way it’s supposed to be. But then the feeling passes as hesitation flits across his face. I lift my hand to wave—it’s the only thing I can think do to not feel so creepy about staring. But it takes him a second to smile back, and when he does it’s just a brief upturn of the corners of his mouth. It’s perfunctory. It’s polite. He’s not glad to see me—of course he’s not. It’s then that his companions notice his attention is on the window, but before they can all turn I dash after Tucker.
“I hate this.”
Tucker blows out a breath. “If you hate it, then do something about it.”
I shake my head. “You know I can’t.”
“No, I don’t know, actually,” he says, ducking into his car. “Every time the subject comes up, you suddenly get real interested in something else.” He watches as I slide into the passenger seat. “I know I’m not great with touchy-feely stuff, but maybe it would help to tell me about it. Explain it to me.”
I yank at the seatbelt and jam the latch into the buckle. “How are things going between you and Crystal?” I counter, my tone acidic.
Tucker’s blue-gray eyes darken and narrow. “That’s a low blow, and you know it.” He glowers out the windshield as he pulls out onto Main.
He’s right, but I don’t apologize. Crystal hurt him twice—first when she broke up with him in front of the whole school, and then when she shut him out when he tried to reconnect with her four months ago. Things are different between Owen and me because I’m the one who did the shutting out. “Let’s just agree not to talk about each other’s love lives.
” I cross my arms over my chest, attempting to hide the emotions roiling inside me. I tamp down the unadulterated hate still coursing through my veins from seeing that girl so close to Owen. My Owen.
No. I can’t keep thinking of him like that. Not now, not with the way things are. Maybe one day.
I just have to hope that one day doesn’t come too late.
Chapter Two
Crystal
My hands clutch the sachet of herbs and stones. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, doing everything I can to connect with the energy around me. This used to be so easy. Now, it takes every fiber of my being to convince myself I’m doing something right.
I hear Dana’s breath beside me. Dana Crawford, a girl I had once written off as useless because of her lack of abilities. It’s funny how quickly things can change.
Even though I’m not convinced I’m connected with nature, I begin reciting the incantation we’ve practiced. After a few times through, Dana joins me. Our voices are low—there’s no need to yell, not if we’re doing it right. I bring my hands together, rubbing the silken bag between them. There is energy in the things I hold. Jodi Barnette has explained to me several times at her shop that even if someone is not a witch, she can call on the energies present naturally in stones and herbs to bring about a desired result.
I just never thought I wouldn’t be a witch.
We continue chanting. I keep expecting to feel something—anything—but nothing changes. It’s so different from the way things used to be. When I used to work a spell, I’d feel energy surging inside me. But then everything changed.
Dana’s voice drops off, leaving me to chant alone.
My eyes snap open. “What are you doing?”
Dana sighs, leaning back against her mattress and dropping her own bag of herbs and stones onto the cream-colored carpet of her bedroom. “It’s not working.”
“You don’t know that,” I insist.
“I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
“You can’t give up so easily.” But I drop my bag to the floor, too. She’s right, of course. It isn’t working. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Nothing ever works.
It’s been four months since I lost my abilities. When I woke up after the exorcism, everything was a jumbled mess in my mind. I could remember only bits and pieces of the previous weeks. Much of it felt like a dream. It turns out I had another person’s consciousness living in my head. Her name was Bess Taylor, and she was a relative who lived back when Seth Whitacre was alive—the first time, that is. In fact, she was his girlfriend—or whatever the equivalent of a girlfriend was back then. According to Krissa, she died in a fire back before the original elder council locked Seth away. The first time Krissa went up against Seth, he mentioned that he was trying to bring her back. It looks like he was trying to bring her back through me. When I learned all the things I had done as her, I felt guilty. I betrayed my friends. I fed information to our enemy. I started a fire that could have killed people. But my guilt was soon replaced by indignation—rage—when I realized all that had been taken from me. Somehow when Anya led the exorcism spell to remove Bess’s consciousness from my body, my abilities went with her. And I have spent every waking moment since then trying to get them back.
Dana was new to abilities. She only had them as a result of the elder council spell. But since Seth died before the council could finish its work, she was left with memories of the council and of magic but no powers of her own. When we realized we were both after the same thing, we teamed up. We’ve been allies ever since.
Dana presses her lips together as she brings her eyes to mine. “Do you think maybe it’s time to ask for some—”
“Don’t say it,” I snap. It comes out harsher than I mean it to, and I regret my tone when hurt flickers across her face. She’s been the closest thing I’ve had to a friend these last four months, and I don’t want to lose her. When I continue, I make an effort to speak more softly. “Anya basically told us back when it happened there was nothing she knew of that could get our abilities back.”
“But Anya isn’t a witch,” Dana says. “Maybe if we asked—”
“We’ve already talked to Jodi,” I mutter. We’ve been in Hannah’s Herbs so many times in the last four months, I’m pretty sure we know the inventory better than the employees. We’ve asked Jodi countless questions, and she’s patiently answered all of them. She’s the one who suggested the particular blend of herbs and stones we’re using today. She knows we’re trying to use magic, and she’s helped as much as possible. Although we haven’t come out and said what our end goal is—to be able to use abilities without having to channel through stones or herbs—I have a feeling she knows. While I don’t know Jodi very well, I have a feeling if she knew anything that could help us, she wouldn’t hold back.
“Maybe Jodi’s not the one we need to talk to,” Dana offers tentatively, like it’s an idea she’s been mulling over for a while. “Maybe we need to bring this to your old circle.”
My skin tingles at this reference to the other witches in town. My old circle. It never used to be that way.
I formed that circle. They didn’t even know about who they were—what they were—before I told them. I was their leader. But now who am I? They still try to be friendly to me at school, but it’s clear we were only connected because of the one thing we had in common—our magic. Even Lexie Taylor, my cousin, is distant—too wrapped up with her new boyfriend to care about me. “They know what happened to us and they haven’t offered to help.” I can’t hide an edge of bitterness when I say it. In fact, they’ve barely mentioned what happened to me. I assume it’s too uncomfortable a subject for them—after all, what do you say to someone in my position? Still, their lack of empathy leads me to only one conclusion: They don’t care whether I get my abilities back. “We can do this ourselves.”
Dana’s eyebrows hitch upward. “How can you expect them to help when you won’t even talk about it with them? When you won’t let me talk about it with them?” She crosses her arms over her chest petulantly. “Do you know how hard it is keeping all this from Fox? He’d help us if we asked—I’m sure of it.”
It’s only with great effort I don’t roll my eyes at the mention of Fox Holloway, member of my old circle and Dana’s new boyfriend. The two have been cozy since the psychic abilities the elder council spell afforded her allowed her to read Krissa Barnette’s mind and learn her—our—one big secret: We went back in time to find the crystal Seth had been locked in, and by doing so we altered history, coming back to a reality slightly different from our own. Dana told the truth to Fox—who had been Krissa’s boyfriend when we found ourselves here—and since then the two have been close. It’s true: I’ve asked her—quite firmly—not to discuss our plight and our progress with Fox. To my knowledge, he hasn’t even asked. “And what? You think Fox just happens to know a spell that will give us back our abilities? Please. We’re better off doing this alone.”
An expression flickers across Dana’s face, a mix of irritation and disbelief, but it’s gone before I can remark on it. She blows out a breath. “Well, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say this spell’s a dud. Have you got another for us to try?”
I shift and tug my phone from my back pocket. With a few taps and swipes of my thumb, I’ve pulled up a webpage. “Since this one didn’t work, there’s another one I was thinking might. It’s actually two spells—one to kind of charge us up, and then one that’s the actual spell.”
“Sounds great,” Dana says, her voice almost resigned.
I chafe at her tone. “Look, if you don’t want to do this anymore, I can do it on my own. If you don’t want your abilities back—”
“I do!” she insists immediately. “It’s just… I really think we need help. And not just advice. I think we need someone who actually has magic to work these spells for us. I think you need to come to terms with the idea that maybe this isn’t something we can do on our own.”
I press my lip
s together. She has a point—I know it. It’s not as if the thought hasn’t crossed my mind on several occasions. As much as I try to convince myself I won’t ask for help because my friends don’t seem to care, I know there’s something else holding me back: Fear. What if Fox or Lexie or one of the other witches does help us and nothing happens? What happens when their best efforts don’t work? At that point, all hope will be lost, and I’m not ready to give up yet. “We’ll need to get some more supplies.”
Dana groans as she gets to her feet. “Of course we do. Looks like we’re going to the shop again today after all.”
Chapter Three
Sasha
I rest my hand on the door that leads inside Jodi Barnette’s shop. I’ve never been in here before—and with good reason. She’s in here. She nearly always is. I haven’t seen her face to face since that day in the broken-down cabin in the woods, the day I tortured her. My own sister. What’s more, I would do it again in a heartbeat if I thought it would help him.
Help him? He’s beyond that now. He’s gone. Seth is dead. Sometimes it’s still difficult for me to believe that. I waited my whole life for his arrival, and he was here and gone in a flash. The blink of an eye.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
The Devoted always believed that when Seth came back, he would usher in a new era—one where our abilities would be known and revered by all. But now he’s gone, and I’m still in hiding.
Four months have passed since he died. As much as I want to leave Clearwater, I can’t: Elliot won’t go and I can’t move on without him. He’s the only one in the world I have left. All the other members of the Devoted are gone—dead. My entire way of life was wiped from existence. Part of me wishes I could start over, but where would I go? I never prepared for a life where I’d have to live among the ordinary. At least here in Clearwater, there are others with abilities. Even if I despise them all.
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