Witch Me Luck

by K. J. Emrick

  WITCH ME LUCK

  THE KILORIAN SISTERS: A WITCHES OF SHADOW LAKE MYSTERY

  K. J. EMRICK

  S. J. WELLS

  First published in Australia by South Coast Publishing, August 2018. Copyright K.J. Emrick (2012-18)

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and locations portrayed in this book and the names herein are fictitious. Any similarity to or identification with the locations, names, characters or history of any person, product or entity is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

  - From a Declaration of Principles jointly adopted by a Committee of the American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  No responsibility or liability is assumed by the Publisher for any injury, damage or financial loss sustained to persons or property from the use of this information, personal or otherwise, either directly or indirectly. While every effort has been made to ensure reliability and accuracy of the information within, all liability, negligence or otherwise, from any use, misuse or abuse of the operation of any methods, strategies, instructions or ideas contained in the material herein, is the sole responsibility of the reader. Any copyrights not held by publisher are owned by their respective authors.

  All information is generalized, presented for informational purposes only and presented "as is" without warranty or guarantee of any kind.

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  CONTENTS

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  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  More Info

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

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  PROLOGUE

  Belladonna Nightshade was not happy.

  And when a witch of her awesome power was unhappy… well. It wasn’t safe for anyone to be around her.

  That was just fine for Belladonna, actually. Solitude made a person stronger, not weaker. She didn’t need friends. They just slowed a person down. She might have people who helped her, on occasion, because even the strongest people in the world couldn’t do everything by themselves, but those people were allies at best. They weren’t friends. She might be alone, but she’d always been more of a “phone it in” kind of gal. Call someone, tell them what to do, expect them to do it. That was the way she worked.

  She did not work well with others.

  Where most covens had three or four or sometimes more witches in their group, she was a coven of one. Just her. A girl didn’t need more than that when she had Belladonna’s kind of magical skill, and power! Hmph. She knew of one coven in the backwoods of Virginia who had two dozen witches in their group.

  Just a bunch of show offs, in her opinion.

  In her case, she was powerful enough to do the work of two dozen witches. All. By. Her. Self.

  So what if she had a high opinion of herself? It wasn’t bragging, when it was the truth.

  Her home was spacious, and where some people might call it empty, she considered the extra rooms and the full basement and the winding staircase to the third floor essential for her peace of mind. Here in the living room all of the furniture was set up along the walls. Two couches, and a table between them. The walls displayed shelf after shelf lined with leather bound books of the arcane and the mundane alike, along with a few paperback novels of horror and suspense. After a long day of casting spells to ruin other people’s lives, there was nothing like reading a good book while sipping a glass of wine and soaking in a warm tub full of bubbles.

  Those were hardly witchy pleasures, but they were definitely feminine ones. She was both, after all. A powerful witch, and a soft and beautiful woman. No pointy black hats for her. No wart on the end of a crooked nose. She didn’t even own a broom, and she was no old crone, either. To be fair, it would be hard for anyone to guess how old she really was. She had one of those faces that was simply timeless. She was attractive, and statuesque, and her almond eyes were just perfect, and her upturned nose was so cute, and her long hair was dark and alluring.

  She should know. She’d expended large amounts of her Life Essence on the spells that created her beauty, and she spent more of her Essence to recast them every two weeks. She had to, or the effects would fade away and she would start to show her true age. She would not allow that. No, sir.

  Of course, even someone as powerful as Belladonna only had so much Life Essence—the power that existed within every living thing—and once she’d used up her reserves she would wither like the husk of an old nut and blow away. That was a problem, to be sure, but she was close to finding the solution.

  There was no reason she should die. All she needed was an endless supply of Essence. Once she had that, she could literally live forever, instead of just the three hundred years she’d lived so far. She could live, and she could take over the world, and she could make monsters and men alike bend to her will.

  And she knew exactly where to get it.

  The Well of Essence sitting below Shadow Lake, protected by the Kilorian sisters.

  Those sisters were hoarding it all, right there under their mansion. Stonecrest kept out anyone they didn’t want getting at their treasure. It was one of the largest sources of Essence in the world, but did they share it? No! They kept it all to themselves, just sitting there, with the lame excuse that it needed to be kept out of the hands of evil men and women and creatures of the night. There was even some nonsense about it being the life force energy of the town of Shadow Lake, but Belladonna didn’t care about that. She wanted the Essence, and she was going to take the Essence, whether the Coven of Kilorians liked it or not.

  Belladonna didn’t consider herself evil. She had her goals, and she did what she needed to do in order to make those goals a reality, just like any other woman living in the modern world. Those three Kilorian sisters were just selfish. That’s all there was to it.

  So she stood alone and fuming in the middle of her living room. There was a wide space here, cleared of any furniture, and in the middle a circle of braided gold wire was set into the stone floor tiles. This was her Scrying Circle. Among other uses, the Circle was her magical communication link to anyone in the world. With this she could talk to anyone, anywhere. It took a lot of magic to make it work, but it was worth it. Let those poor fools without magic rely on cellphones and e-mail. Using a Scrying Circle made all of that seem like smoke signals in comparison.

  She licked her lips, and slipped out of her black dress, letting it drop to the floor at her feet.

  It was glorious to just be herself. No clothing, no jewelry, just what her mother and a heavy dose of magic had given her. Nothing between her and… everything. She closed her eyes, reaching out with her witchy senses, and let herself feel every bit of her body. Her bare skin in conta
ct with the air, so smooth, so tingly, improved her connection to the magic all around her. Scraps of Essence flowed through her, pulled from the life of trees and plants and insects and birds in the lush forest outside this house. Just scraps, but added altogether it filled her up.

  Now, if there had been more Essence at hand for her to call upon, like that Well the sisters were hoarding in Shadow Lake, then she wouldn’t need to suck the life out of a blue jay or wither a few trees into dry kindling.

  Oh well. Such was the way things went.

  A shame she couldn’t cast the spell she needed au natural like this. Standing here in all her glory, Belladonna truly felt powerful. She was going to use the Scrying Circle to make a sort of video call, however, and since those on the other end would be able to see her, too… well. She wasn’t going to share all of this beauty with just anyone.

  With a sigh, she reached for the robe hanging over the arm of the couch. The feel of the pure silk sliding against her skin pleased her. That was what magic was for her. A way to seize the things that gave her pleasure.

  This wasn’t her being selfish. Not like those Kilorians. Oh, no. This wasn’t selfish. It was her right.

  Standing just at the edge of the gold circle, she snugged the robe’s belt tight, and then cast her gaze one by one to the five points of the pentagram painted within the circumference. The five-pointed star was drawn in a mixture of goat’s blood and ochre, with three drops of her own blood mixed in for good measure. While she traced it with her eyes, she held out her left hand, palm up, thumb and pinky touching, ring finger tucked under. From memory, she repeated the spell that activated the scrying.

  “Power, power, in my hand, bring my desires, this I command.”

  Belladonna smirked as a brilliant gold light sizzled around the Circle, amplified by the metal, sparking brightly when it came back around to close the loop. Oh, spells didn’t have to rhyme to be effective, but where was the fun in that? She’d made this one up herself. Not exactly Shakespeare, but it did the trick.

  Heh. Trick. Witch humor.

  From her outstretched hand, ethereal tendrils of light flowed, overlapping and coiling and filling the Circle. Every person’s Essence was colored with their individual thoughts and desires and intentions. Hers was orange, with streaks of silver. A color combination just as unique as she was.

  With her magic, fueled by her Essence, Belladonna created a rotating disc of power within the Scrying Circle. It spun and spun as it rose up from the floor, hovering there at an angle in front of her, and then slowly it resolved into the image of a person, and went still.

  The image belonged to a scarecrow of man, scrawny and awkward with overly round eyes and shaggy hair and a face that only a mother or a loyal mutt could love. The brown shirt he wore was some sort of uniform. On a regular sized man, it would have fit perfectly, but on the constable of Shadow Lake it was all wrinkled and baggy. That was the same town where the Kilorian sisters lived. Shadow Lake, where they were hoarding the Well of Essence.

  It was where Belladonna was going to focus all of her attention, and all of her efforts, and all of her considerable skill, until she got what she wanted.

  Until the Kilorian sisters paid with their lives.

  “This thing working?” the constable asked her as he peered into his side of the Circle, blinking behind those big lenses. His smile did nothing to make him more attractive. “Hey? Hello? This is Herman Bledsoe speaking. Hello? Helloooo?”

  “I know who you are, Herman.” Belladonna counted silently up to five in her mind. This man was a necessary, but annoying, part of her plan. Even after she had infused him with a bit of her own Essence, to give him more of a backbone than he’d ever had in his whole entire life, he was still hard to take in large doses. Like children. Or puppies. “And yes, it’s working. Now please, just stand there and shut up while I conference everyone else in. Can you do that?”

  “Yeah, no worries. Hey, can I get one of these things?” He looked around the Circle, at her and the living room on her side, stupidly thinking that the Scrying Circle was some sort of device like a Sony webcam that he could just pick up at WalMart. Skype for witches. “I think this would come in handy. Do you have to pay long distance rates? What’s the data plan like on—”

  “Shut. Up.”

  She said the words with crisp inflection. With a snap of her fingers, Herman’s lips clamped shut. They stayed that way, despite his jaw still working to make words. His eyes went wide with surprise. Perhaps the man should pay closer attention to whom he was in league with.

  Smiling to herself, Belladonna waved her hands in a circle and the magical screen in front of her split in two down the middle. The right half was now a milky silvery static, until it cleared and focused into the furry face of a very big, very black cat.

  Domovyk was her little furry agent within the walls of Stonecrest, spying on the Kilorian sisters. Belladonna sneered at such audacity. Giving a name to a big stone house like it was a castle or something. Of course, she referred to her own home as Lo Stregozzo, but that was only because she deserved to live in a place of importance.

  “Ahem,” Domovyk said in his heavy accent, flicking the whiskers on his cat face and flicking his eyes to the right to take in Herman Bledsoe standing there, silently pawing at his mouth with long spindly fingers. “Do not like speaking to you like this. If anyone sees me out here in woods behind Stonecrest, talking to big Circle in the air, might be end of Domovyk the cat.”

  “Don’t give me that,” Belladonna chided him. “You’ve got those soft cat paws, and you were trained by me. You’re the very epitome of stealth. If you let the Kilorians see what you’re up to then that’s your own fault. Now. Hold the line, please. I’ve got one more person to bring in.”

  Domovyk grumbled something in his native Ukrainian. Belladonna understood him perfectly well, because a certain magic spell that she had placed on herself over a decade ago allowed all languages to be translated in her brain. She didn’t much care for what he said, but she chose to be magnanimous and let it go. Not because she needed his eyes and ears within the walls of Stonecrest to know what the sisters were up to. No. Not for that reason. It was simply because she was such a generous person. She was a good witch, no matter what anyone else said.

  Yes. She was a good witch, she told herself. Buckets of water wouldn’t melt her, no sir!

  A wave of her hand, and a little more Essence, split the screen in thirds. This time it was the bottom that was all silvery static, until she could connect to her third agent within the town of Shadow Lake. They had work to do, and it was going to take all four of them to bring the Kilorian sisters down and allow her to gain access to their Well of Essence.

  After all, sometimes a witch needed help to gain ultimate power.

  Not friends. Just… allies.

  The third section focused, and there he was, blinking at her like he was surprised to be included.

  “Oh, don’t look so shocked,” she told him with a wicked smile. “You had to know this day would come. You’re under my thrall. Get over it. Now. All of you, listen to me. I’m going to tell you what role each of you plays in my plans. You will do what I tell you to, without fail, or you will answer to me. Do you understand?”

  “Tak,” Domovyk said immediately, his ears drooping. He had been with her the longest of anyone, and he knew the price of failure. Belladonna didn’t care if he liked it or not, as long as he agreed to do his part.

  Herman was waving to get her attention, frantically pointing to his mouth with his other hand. He was trying to say something, but her spell was stopping him.

  “Oh,” Belladonna said. “Right. I forgot.”

  She snapped her fingers again, and his lips were unsealed. With a deep breath he said, “Yeah. I’m here for you. The Kilorian sisters are going to get what they deserve. Especially that Addie Kilorian. She needs what I’m going to give her, to be sure.”

  “Don’t be crass,” she warned him. Lowering her focus to
the bottom third of the screen, she speared that person with her gaze. This was the new addition to the mix. This was the wildcard, because he had never been asked to do anything for her. Until now. “And you? Are you willing to do as your mistress commands?”

  There was a hesitation, but then he finally gave her the answer she was looking for. “Yes.”

  Now the conspiracy was complete.

  “Good. My last few plans haven’t worked, so we’re going to try something new this time. For this one, we’re going underground…”

  CHAPTER 1

  Red was definitely Addie’s color. There was an old adage that said redheads should never be caught in this color, but she liked to think of herself as an unconventional sort of girl. Her emerald eyes met her gaze in the mirror with a smirk. A darker red like this tight off-the-shoulder dress flattered her pale complexion, and her freckles, and her flame colored hair. The dress itself flattered… everything else. Especially when she paired it with these strappy heels.

  The color of flame never looked so good, even if she did say so herself.

  Tonight was a special occasion, and she had wanted to go all out. She might be more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt, but she could definitely pull this off. Lucian had no idea what he was in for. After all, this night was for him.

  She had even gone so far to put her hair in a French braid, something she hadn’t worn since she was a child. The braid left her slender neck bare, accentuating a silver necklace adorned with diamonds. The black clutch purse in her hand completed the look even though it held no money, and no keys, and nothing girlie like makeup or perfume. Instead, it had her pouch of magical herbs. A witch needed to be prepared, after all.

  “Ah, and you look just fine.” Her furry feline friend was sprawled out on the foot of her bed, one eye open. “I can’t recall the last time I saw you looking so pretty.”