Witch

by Kirsten Weiss

  “But we haven’t. You can't control the— The magic you’re sensing isn’t from our world. It doesn't belong to anyone.”

  She smiled. “Not yet.”

  “Why didn’t I sense your magic?”

  “Cloaking my magic was one of the first things I learned. How do you think I survived all those years in foster care?”

  “And you cloaked the anthrophage too.”

  Brayden slipped into the room. “Hi, Jayce. What are you doing here?” He wore my favorite plaid shirt – one I’d bought him – beneath a forest green down vest. His curling black hair was damp, as if he’d just showered.

  “Brayden,” I whispered.

  The poppet on the floor quivered in response to his presence. A chill miasma of dark energy, the scent of dying roses, twined through the room. Acid burned my throat.

  Maya laid a possessive hand on his arm. With her free hand, she motioned to the poppet. “Be a good boy and collect that little doll for me.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  “No!” I lunged for the stick figure.

  Brayden brushed me aside, knocking me into the altar. The chalice clattered onto its side and rolled, stopping against the knife. Pain streaked up my side.

  He picked up the awful bundle of sticks.

  This was more than magic-fueled love, I realized, horrified. He was her… sock puppet. “Brayden,” I said, forcing power into my words, “that's what's controlling you. That's what's making you think you're in love with Maya.”

  His handsome brow furrowed. “It's just a doll.” He handed the thing to Maya.

  “She brought the anthrophage! She called it from Fairy, the same way Lenore and I called Karin last summer.”

  “The what?” he asked.

  “The thing that's been eating people,” I said.

  “Is this true?” he asked her.

  “I'm afraid it is,” she said. “It likes human flesh, and I thought I could use it to get rid of the Bonheim sisters. But it turned out the anthrophage is a scavenger. It kept filling itself up on easy, pre-killed prey.” She smiled coolly. “But no one's died recently. I imagine it's getting hungry.”

  Which explained why first it had attacked the boy, and then it had come after me tonight. Focus on Maya. She’s the threat.

  “And the murders?” I asked, voice trembling.

  “I have nothing to do with those. The murder rate in this small town is rather fascinating though, don't you think? I suspect I'll be doing Doyle a service once I learn to channel the energy from… What did you call it? Fairy?”

  “It sounds better than fairyland,” I said and edged toward the door. “Well, now that we know where we all stand, I guess I'll be going.”

  She sighed. “I don't think so. Brayden, stop her.”

  He gripped my arm and jerked me against his chest. His hand squeezed, and I squirmed at the pain and shock.

  “Brayden, you’re hurting me. Stop!”

  He stood unmoving.

  Maya might be the controller, but he was the weapon. Somehow, I had to deal with Brayden without hurting him.

  “Give me her purse,” she said.

  “No, Brayden, don't—”

  He wrenched it free of my shoulder and tossed my leather bag to her.

  Blocking the doorway, she pulled out my cell phone, dropped it on the parquet floor, crushed it beneath her heel. “I'd rather not have to deal with three Bonheims at once, and we both know you're going to run straight to your sisters.”

  Heat burned the backs of my eyes. “I'm so sorry about this, Brayden. I really do love you.”

  He frowned. “What—?”

  I kneed him in the groin.

  He gasped, doubling over. His grip on me loosened, and I wrenched my arm free.

  I charged at Maya, and we went down in a tumble of arms and legs.

  “Brayden,” she shouted.

  I elbowed her in the chin. “He doesn’t belong to you!” Kicking blindly, I scrambled to my feet.

  She shrieked something in Latin. I didn’t understand it, didn’t care. I needed to escape, to get out of this house of horrors to fight another day.

  I raced toward the foyer.

  Glass shattered. I spun toward the noise.

  The anthrophage squirmed through one of the tall, arched windows.

  “Shit!” I turned to run.

  Maya shouted another word. Something cold and sticky grasped my ankles. My feet tangled. I fell, hitting the wood floor hard. “Oof.” I gasped from the impact.

  A chill traveled from my ankles to my knees. I rolled onto my back. Invisible, magical bonds clamped my ankles to the floor.

  On all fours, the anthrophage loped across the library. Strands of ivy hung through the windows, trailed across the broken glass.

  Sweat burned my eyes. Get up. Move, move, move! My legs wouldn't respond.

  The monster's claws clicked on the floor like a dog's. It huffed, a rough, heavy breath.

  Desperately, I stretched my hand toward the ivy, extended my will to it, reached deep into the earth, through the soil to its roots. “Grow!”

  Tentacles of ivy unfurled, covering the wall in green.

  I could smell the anthrophage now, the sour stench of its breath, the musk of its soiled body.

  Ivy raced across the floor in an Amazon-colored tidal wave. It flowed up the anthrophage’s slick, malformed legs, flooded over its arching back.

  It bellowed, collapsing, skidding, its arms stretching across the floor for me.

  “Brayden!” I shrieked, trying to pull away, but I was stuck like a butterfly pinned to cardboard.

  A mound of ivy four feet deep now covered the anthrophage. It slowed, skidding to a stop inches from my boot. One clawed hand remained free of the green tentacles. It convulsed, scraping the sole of my boot.

  I recoiled.

  In the doorway to the secret room, Maya waved her hands and muttered. The ivy seethed around the hidden door and began a slow retreat.

  She was stronger than me. I couldn’t beat her. I yelled at my paralyzed legs. “Let GO!” A snap of energy, a release, and the cold vanished. I stumbled to standing.

  Maya strode toward me. She forced back the ivy with quick, slashing motions. In one hand, she gripped Brayden's poppet.

  Hot anger flared, a wash of red obscuring my vision. She wasn't going to keep it, wasn’t going to keep Brayden under her thumb. I wouldn't let her.

  Fists clenched, I stepped toward her. A floorboard creaked beneath my feet.

  Wood. Long dead wood, but wood, nonetheless, wood that had grown from the earth, my earth. Confidence flooded my veins. Kneeling, I pressed one hand to the rough floor. “Rise.”

  A ribbon of awareness pulsed from my hand and into the boards. The wood responded, images flooding my mind. Secluded ponds and cool, luscious soil. The chatter of chipmunks. Memories of rain pattering on leaves.

  Maya shrieked a word. Something flew toward me.

  Turning, I raised my arm.

  A book ricocheted off my shoulder and struck my temple.

  I glared, heat flooding my body. “Rise!”

  The boards rattled, banging like piano keys.

  Maya staggered on the heaving floor.

  Nails exploded from the wood. They pinged against the empty bookshelves. Sharp heat zinged my cheek.

  I swore, feeling a warm trickle of blood on my face.

  Maya shouted a word.

  Sensing movement behind me, I turned, too late.

  Three logs flew from the fireplace. I raised my arms. “N—”

  I blinked.

  My head hurt.

  I was lying down.

  Lying down was good.

  No, not good. Bad. And the ceiling was strange. I didn't know this ceiling, and I smelled of ash.

  Maya's face swam into view above me.

  I tried to sit up, but nausea and pain and magic pinned me in place. “You,” I said, m
y tongue thick.

  My heart beat feebly in my chest. My hands went limp. She'd won. She had Brayden. I hadn't been good enough.

  Maya gripped a fireplace poker in one hand, the poppet in the other.

  Fireplace. Ash. I’d been hit by a log from the fireplace. The bitch!

  Maya grimaced. “You’re tougher than you look. I’ll give you that. Like I said, I wouldn't want to tangle with three Bonheims at once.”

  Brayden frowned down at me. “Jayce? What are you doing on the floor?” His tone was impersonal, bemused.

  A soft sound of despair escaped my throat. If only I'd kept running, gone for help, I might have saved Brayden. If only I hadn't been so damned impulsive! Hadn't let my anger rule my brain. I'd ruined everything.

  My sisters – she’d come for them next. And suddenly, I saw it all. I knew who’d killed all those people. Of course it hadn’t been Maya—

  Something growled near my feet.

  My pulse thumped, fast and uneven in my ears. The ivy wouldn't hold the anthrophage much longer.

  I swallowed, my mouth tasting strange and dry. “You don't have to do this. Let Brayden go. You don't need him anymore.”

  “I don't think so. It's always nice to have a man around the house, and he's so handy. Besides, he'll do anything for me.” She knelt, disappearing from my view. When she stood again, she held a tiny black nail. Maya handed it to Brayden. “Swallow this.”

  He studied it, then popped it in his mouth, swallowed.

  “See?” Maya said. “Anything. How could I give—” She grunted, staggered sideways, slid to the ground. The weight pinning me to the floor released.

  I bolted upright.

  Terry stood panting in her red coat, a fireplace log in both hands.

  Face pale, Terry dropped the log on the floor. Ash smeared the older woman’s palms. “Oh, my God. I shouldn't have— But she made him eat a nail. I saw him swallow a nail. We need to call the hospital.”

  Brayden stood, wooden, impassive.

  The poppet. The poppet was keeping his spell in place.

  Clumsily, I patted the floor around Maya's body. She’d been holding the poppet. It must be somewhere. Where was the damn poppet?

  A shred of plaid stuck from beneath Maya's arm.

  I batted her arm away, and the poppet was there, on the wooden floor.

  “What’s that?” Terry asked. “What’s wrong with Brayden?”

  I grabbed the stick figure. Sickening coolness chilled my hand, climbed up my arm. This poppet was made mostly of wood too — younger and fresher wood than the floorboards. Gagging, I willed my awareness past the sticky black miasma. “Enough. Undo it. Undo!”

  The plaid fabric binding the poppet loosened, slipped from the figure. The poppet fell apart in my hands. Twigs pattered to the floor.

  I stomped on the sticks, crushing them beneath my boots.

  Brayden fell to his knees and braced his broad hands on the floor.

  The shuddering cold drained from me, and I staggered.

  Terry grasped my shoulders. “Are you all right? What's going on?”

  A tearing sound, a roar. The anthrophage burst from the ivy, leaves scattering like confetti.

  Terry’s scream echoed through the cavernous room. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and her knees buckled.

  Unthinking, I grabbed her. Her weight drove me to the floor, and just my luck, she landed on top, knocking the wind from my lungs. I struggled to free myself from beneath her limp body.

  The anthrophage howled. It plunged its claws into Maya’s collarbone, shredding her black tunic.

  “No!” I shouted.

  The creature roared, rattling the windows, setting the old-fashioned overhead lamp swinging. It loped to the broken window, dragging Maya across the floor.

  “Stop!” Rolling Terry off me, I clambered to my feet. My limbs seemed far away, as if they belonged to another person. I raised one trembling hand toward the window.

  The anthrophage was halfway through it now, pulling an unconscious Maya with him.

  “Grow,” I shouted. “Grow!”

  The creature disappeared through the arched window. Maya's denim-clad legs vanished after it.

  “Shit!” I hurried to Brayden. “Brayden? Are you all right?”

  “I don't…” He rubbed his hand across his face. “Was I dreaming?” His gaze met mine, and his emerald eyes widened. “Jayce.” Brayden pulled me to him and squeezed, then relaxed his arms. He laid his head against the top of mine.

  I pressed my face to his warm chest, reveling in the strength and heat of his body. Just for now. Just for this moment. Let me have this moment, and then I'll go after the anthrophage and Maya, and…

  “I dreamed I'd lost you.” Groaning, he pressed his lips to my forehead and straightened. “Terry?”

  She moaned and raised herself to sitting. “What? What happened? What was that thing?”

  Moving awkwardly, he knelt beside her. “Don't move.” He ran his hands over her body. “Do you feel…?” He angled his head, frowning. “I don't remember what I’m supposed to… Sorry. I can't—” Abruptly, he sat on the floor.

  “There was a strange man beneath the ivy,” Terry said. “But… I’d swear he didn't have a head. It can't have been real.”

  “Okay,” I said, backing toward the foyer. “You two take care of each other. Call for medical help.” Then I remembered and reversed direction, darting into the hidden room. I grabbed my purse off the floor, and my heart sank. My purse was sodden, the leather water-stained.

  I opened my bag and breathed a sigh of relief. Inside, a few water balloons remained intact. I trotted into the library. “Terry, you've got your phone, right?”

  She nodded. “But what—?”

  “Great. I've got to— You'll be fine.” I ran into the foyer and down the porch steps. A part of me, the part that didn't want to get killed, didn't want to save Maya. But no one deserved the death the anthrophage offered. Not even an evil witch who’d seriously pissed me off.

  Two figures stood motionless across the street, and I skidded to a halt. Mr. O’Hare and Mrs. Raven stood in their thin, antique clothes and stared at Maya’s house.

  What the—? I opened my mouth to speak and thought better of it. Right now, I had bigger problems.

  I focused my adrenaline-fueled energy on my aura, filling it with protective heat and energy and pushing it out as far as it could go. It touched the anthrophage. I felt it sheer away, into the gully behind the house.

  Crunching through patches of snow, I circled to the back of the looming Victorian.

  Draping the purse crossways over one shoulder, I climbed over the low, wire fence and skidded down the steep slope.

  My boots squelched on the creek bank, and I halted, looking up and down the trail. Both directions led to forested areas, and—

  I hissed an indrawn breath.

  Maya's body lay crumpled beneath a pine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I crept across the marshy ground, toward the patch of snow where Maya’s booted feet lay propped. “Maya?”

  She didn’t respond.

  I took another leaden step. “Maya?” I whispered.

  Beneath the pine, her neck hung at an odd angle. Three brutal tears marred the fabric of her black, floral top. Her eyes were open and staring. She was dead. Even in my magically weakened state, I could sense that much. But why had the anthrophage left her here?

  My shoulders hunched. It's a trap.

  I dropped to my knees and laid my palm flat on the cold, dank earth. With an effort, I pushed my senses outward. Where's the anthrophage?

  The trees gave me no answers. So, it wasn’t here, in this forest. Then where was it?

  I stood. Okay. I could live with ambiguity. I swallowed. Why hadn't it eaten Maya? The anthrophage had to be hungry by now. Had my presence, the power I’d filled my aura with, scared it off?

  Scavengers were tough in gr
oups, but not so much on their own, when confronted with something that could take them. And it knew now that I could stop it. It hadn’t liked tangling with that ivy.

  “You're a hungry anthrophage,” I muttered. “You’ve just been driven from your kill. Where do you go?”

  Somewhere you know there's easy prey.

  Angela's house.

  I pressed my hand against the bark of a slim redwood. “Help me get there in time. Please.”

  Energy flowed through my hand, a flood of power filling my heart, pumping energy into my muscles.

  Gripping my purse against my chest, I raced down the dark trail.

  The trees warned me when I threatened to trip over a stone or fallen branch, their roots pinging against my consciousness. Tonight, I didn't need my eyes to see. I had other, stronger senses, and the trees were my friends.

  But my adrenaline was ebbing, leaving me sick and shaking. I felt the bubble of my aura shrink inward.

  Angela should be safe within the wards Lenore and I had set. But what if she wasn’t inside them? She might be coming home from dinner, could be attacked in her driveway.

  I hurdled a slick patch of snow.

  The anthrophage had already killed a grown woman. It was growing bolder. And I was the only one who could stop the creature.

  Racing up the earthen steps to Main Street’s old, stone bridge, I skidded to a halt as an SUV whooshed in front of my nose.

  More cautiously, I jogged across Main Street, past unlit shop windows. Laughter flowed from Antoine’s bar, and for a moment I longed to give up, go inside, find friends and safety. I ran on.

  A stitch pinched my side. I ran down winding residential streets. A warning peal clanged through my bones, and I slowed at Angela Senator's ranch house. Something wicked had tried to breach our ward. The anthrophage.

  I halted, pushing my senses toward the protective barrier we’d placed around her house. But my aura fragmented, useless. The horror of Angela’s death, of what had been done to Brayden, crumpled it like an empty beer can.

  And somewhere, the anthrophage prowled the edges of the ward, testing the magical barricade. I scanned the barren front yard. The creature could be anywhere. Behind the house, at one of its sides…

  I gripped my purse with the water balloons inside. Would they work? I needed to send the anthrophage home, tonight, before it hurt anyone else. My odds would be better with Lenore and Karin at my side. But my phone was in pieces at Maya’s house.