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Playing With Monsters

Page 8

by Amelia Hutchins


  “That’s insane! You could get in trouble, Kendra. Big trouble if the coven ever figured it out.”

  “Ask me what I got,” she said, ignoring my words.

  “Are you listening to me? What if you’d been caught in the middle of that fight between the Guild and Fae?”

  “Didn’t happen; in fact, it was actually boring in that place,” she said flippantly.

  “It got blown up!” I screeched at her.

  “Yeah, but not when I was there,” she pointed out. “Our family history was there, and I think the missing grimoires might be inside of the catacombs. They have our entire history inside their damn walls, while we have nothing!”

  “We have them too, just not accessible for the average witch. They’re off-limits unless you’re an elder. What exactly did you risk your neck for at the Guild?” I asked, my curiosity piqued, even though my heart hammered with knowing she’d placed herself in danger’s path, and I’d been clueless of it.

  Going to the Guild was forbidden, always had been, so what was worth going there? My eyes took in her closed-off demeanor and I wondered what she was hiding. She had wanted me to ask what she’d found, but there was something else she was hiding from me, I could feel it.

  “I found a few things out about demons, and other things about our line. Things no one else seems to know about.”

  “Such as?” I asked, and waited for her to answer.

  “Later, I’ll show you everything I have, and what I learned from my visits.”

  “Visits, as in plural, more than once?” I snapped angrily. What the hell was wrong with her? Out of the two of us, she was the conservative, never got into trouble, always listened and followed the rules.

  I stood up and retrieved the empty mug as I shook my head. “Stay away from them; they may seem decent, but they’re deadly. They are nothing more than trained assassins.”

  “You’re wrong; Olivia was sweet, meek. Nothing like we thought them to be, and she helped me.”

  “She helped you steal files?” I asked pointedly.

  “Well no, but she didn’t stop me either. I knew she suspected I was checking out things about existing separatist covens, and she didn’t question it.”

  “That you know of, Kendra, she could have followed you, or sent an Enforcer to do so, how do you know she didn’t report it to the Guild?”

  “Because I’ve been going there since you left, and no one has come here, and nothing has happened. It’s been months and they’re a little busy with the Guild being attacked and blown up by the Fae, or whoever they’re claiming did it.”

  “They’re saying it was the Fae,” I agreed. “That is yet another reason why you shouldn’t have gone to the Guild. You could have led those creatures here as well.”

  “I needed answers, it’s not like I went in there with my name on my forehead and handed them a DNA swab to test my genetic makeup.”

  “You might as well have,” I said pointedly. “You do know that they keep track of every archive checked out, and if you looked into our history, and they have it flagged, you put a target on all of us. Who are you? When I left here, you wouldn’t have disobeyed anything that the coven said.”

  “I checked out a lot of random things as well, not just our history. I’m smart enough to cover my tracks. I grew up, Lena, just as you did. I’m curious about our history, and I want to know why they make us hide.”

  “Let’s just forget you went there for now. I’m in enough trouble with the coven. You can show me what you found later,” I mumbled as I moved to the door. “Promise me you won’t go to any of the Guilds again. Ever. I couldn’t live without you, Kendra. Kill the cat, no more curiosity. Got it?”

  “I love you, too,” she said as she blew a kiss and headed to the main house. “Hey, when are you going to move back into the main house so I don’t have come all the way out here just to talk to you?”

  I shook my head and met her eyes, not needing to give her an answer. I couldn’t move back into my room, it was filled with items for my wedding, and pictures of the life I’d left. There was also Joshua’s room directly across from my old room, empty.

  I moved back inside the cottage and quickly changed into something conservative that I could face the coven in.

  Chapter Eight

  I sat outside the doors where the coven had assembled inside the Town Hall building, mortified that they’d called others in to witness my punishment. Obviously they had wanted them to observe the workings of the elders, which made sense, but sucked that it would be at my expense.

  “Magdalena, they’re ready for you now,” one of the older ladies said as she placed the phone back into its cradle and went back to her work on the computer in front of her.

  I swallowed and pushed off the chair as I moved to the wide wooden doors that led into the huge room I’d only been in a few times before as a child. The room was filled with people who were talking amongst themselves until the doors’ hinges, which obviously needed a good oiling, announced my entrance.

  I wasn’t surprised to see my grandmother on the panel, or Helen, but it was my dad sitting beside her that made me lose forward momentum as I locked eyes with him. He had no right to be here; he’d left us.

  He’d gotten in a huge fight with my mother, and must have left us during the night. I’d waited an entire month for him to come home before it finally sank in that he wasn’t coming back. He had abandoned us. The man, who sired us, had raised us and loved us since birth, had just walked away without a backward glance.

  I’d told Kendra that he would come back, but like this, well that wasn’t how I’d envisioned it. Cassidy was his blood daughter, and I could understand some of her anger if she’d known who he was, but like our own birth records, hers would have been blank if it had occurred during a harvest celebration.

  “Magdalena,” my grandmother’s tone was firm, polite. “You have caused quite a disturbance.”

  I wanted to reply in my best Yoda voice, having caused disturbance in the force…young Jedi. Yup, that’s me. Sign me up, give me the light-saber and I’d be good to go.

  “It’s more than just a disturbance,” Helen said and as my eyes moved to her, I passed over my father’s graying head that bobbed in agreement. “We do not make accusations against anyone without solid proof, which you lacked; much less those who donate millions into the community. What do you have to say for yourself?” she said with malice and a solid look of death in her baby blues.

  “I made a mistake, and I’m sorry. I thought I saw something and I didn’t. It was my impression that if we think harm has been done, we report it no matter how small of an offense it may be. All matters are to be reported to the coven, and to be handled within their ranks. I thought he held a dead body in his arms and I reported it. I now understand that it was a dog that’d been struck on the highway, but in the dark I misjudged it.”

  “I do not think you understand the severity of your accusation. Lucian Blackstone has helped this community out of a hole and has donated millions of dollars to the coven. Without him, we’d be in trouble.”

  “Bad investments?” I asked.

  “That is none of your concern, child,” Katy said sharply.

  I turned my eyes to look at the fifty-something witch who hadn’t been on the panel when I’d left town. She was friends with my mother, or had been when they were younger, but they’d grown apart soon after high school had ended. She frequented the store we owned since her own knowledge of potions and herbalism was lacking.

  “You will not make the same mistake again,” Helen continued, even though the others hadn’t gotten a word in yet. “For the next week you will forfeit the right to participate in the Awakening celebrations, unless Lucian himself allows you to. You will go to Lucian and beg his forgiveness and offer your services to him in the upcoming ev
ents he has offered to hold for us. That is yet another reason why your crime is so severe. He has supported this community, and helps us with anything we have needed of him. You will do whatever he requires of you, as long as it is within reason. Do you understand what I am saying?”

  “I understand,” I mumbled. I got it, I was to do whatever he wanted. No matter what he asked, I had to do it. He could ask me to bark like a dog, and my response would be woof. I hated that if I wanted to attend anything, I’d have to ask his permission.

  Freaking great.

  “Is that all? She deserves a more severe punishment,” Cassidy pouted and I watched as my father turned and patted her arm lovingly.

  “An entire week is quite enough,” my grandmother said, her eyes daring Helen to challenge her.

  A week in time-out during the Awakening celebrations was huge. It was an important time in the coven, one of the biggest things in a witch’s life. A time when we would come into our powers, relieved of a curse by the witches of old to protect the young as well as the coven itself. Not to mention, they had discovered a foolproof safeguard that would continue our coven’s existence through the centuries.

  Our coven has its own brand of ‘catechism’ to teach the young and pass on what heritage the elders deemed that we can know. They taught us that we descend from a very powerful line of witches and our coven originally came from Aberdeen, Scotland in the sixteenth century, escaping in the chaos surrounding one of the witch hunts of the time. Back in those days it was a scary time to be a witch, let alone piss someone off.

  Several actual witches were rounded up with many innocents in the hunt. However, there was a story about one of the witches of our coven dying a horrible death at the hands of a monster that triggered the actual exodus from Scotland. The coven took the first available ships they could find and settled in what is now known as Nova Scotia.

  Our coven uprooted and moved about sixty years later and became part of a coven just outside of Salem, Massachusetts. With all of the dangers that humans, demons, and the Fae posed to our coven, it was decided that we would separate again to protect our coven and the elders came up with the genius idea of locking up the powers of the young so we couldn’t give our coven away, and essentially make the coven harder to detect.

  Eventually we moved to the west, an uncharted land at the time, rich for herbs and other things we needed to flourish. We survived, each family helping each other to make it to the next year. Sickness came, and with it, an entire bloodline was lost. The coven took matters into their own hands, and created the Harvest Celebration and ceremony that would ensure that the next generation would be born and the bloodlines would carry on.

  During the Harvest ceremony that follows the Awakening, the ancestors are called upon to decide our mates if a witch isn’t already married and in a permanent union. Those who have been through their Awakening are literally compelled to mate for days after the Harvest ceremony. Ancient thinking people they were, they named it the Harvest ceremony to symbolize fertility and planting of the new seeds within the coven.

  Witches are sexual creatures by nature; many rituals call for nudity or sex as part of the rite, however the month of the Awakening ceremony is the only time in our lives where chastity is warranted as it was thought that the powers that were unlocked during the Awakening ceremony would be more powerful, as would the children that would be sired after the Harvest.

  I however wasn’t keen on the idea of creating life, but the call of the power that I could feel growing inside of me was addictive, and like the others, I was here to obtain my birthright and I’d be doing whatever it took to please the ancestors so my powers were awakened, even mating with whoever the ancestors chose for me as the mating part of the whole shebang was compulsory and not optional.

  I wasn’t sure why we needed a bunch of dead people deciding who we created life with, or if we deserved our powers. They were dead, and times had changed. I understood that back in the old days, sometimes unions had to be forced, but this was the freaking twentieth century and a woman didn’t actually need a man to conceive a child. We had technology and we weren’t sheep anymore! We could use a baster if needed!

  “Magdalena, wake up!” Kendra’s voice penetrated my trail of thought. “Seriously, you scare me. A freaking baster?” she snickered in my head.

  “She’s not even listening, mother!” Cassidy’s high-pitched cry pulled my eyes to hers.

  “I’m listening; I accept any punishment given. I will go to Lucian and apologize and offer my services for any event he needs help with.”

  My grandmother shook her head and I narrowed my eyes on her; she didn’t look happy with me, but it had been dark. It was an honest mistake, and I’d really thought it had been a body, and not that of a dog.

  “You are dismissed, and, Magdalena, see that you make no further accusations towards our guests,” Helena sneered as she turned and smiled at my father.

  He wasn’t a guest; he was one of our own. I stared at him until his eyes rose to meet mine, and I watched as he lowered them with shame.

  It was official; all men sucked.

  Chapter Nine

  I’d tried on nine outfits by the time I settled on a white wraparound top that exposed more skin than it concealed, and low hip-hugging jeans that fit like a glove. I slipped into the Jimmy Choos I’d found in a secondhand store in Seattle, and looked over my reflection. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to look sexy, but I felt it was imperative.

  Hands pushed around my throat and I coughed and blinked at my reflection. What the hell was wrong with me? I dabbed on some gloss and a little mascara, and headed to grab my purse. It was secondhand as well, but I’d found a thrift shop that had received a ton of donations from the well-to-dos of Seattle. I’d spent three paychecks there, and I hadn’t regretted it one bit.

  Being from a family that was careful with money, I made it work. I found bargains where I could, and I bargain shopped my ass off to stay in style. I wasn’t afraid of working, nor was I afraid to get my hands dirty. I didn’t have the luxury that Cassidy was born into; getting everything she wanted. Mom and Grandma always reminded us that you appreciated things more if you had to work hard for them, and I guess they were right.

  The shop kept our family fed and covered the basics for us, including maintaining the bare minimum on the manor house. However, it didn’t allow us to get too crazy. Kendra and I worked in Mom’s shop until I left, and I have to admit that I’d learned a lot from it.

  I headed out the door after ensuring Luna had food and water and looked at the map that Kendra had scribbled for me. The coven had forbidden her from going with me to make amends with Lucian, and that scared me; it seemed important for her to come in with me. Why? I knew there was something off about Lucian, so why would I want to bring her to him?

  I moved towards the garage where Joshua’s car was stored, and paused as I felt a sharp slice of pain move through me. I hadn’t seen the car since the day I’d driven him to Spokane to catch his flight to Georgia and Basic Training at Fort Benning. It was the last time I ever saw Joshua.

  I made my feet move, and pulled the keys from my purse. He’d left me it, his pride and joy. His baby. I’d helped him build her, and she was just another example of what made us close as brother and sister. I fanned the dust away from my face as I allowed my eyes to adjust to the dimness of the garage, which was really just a barn. Joshua had converted it into his own space, and used it to fix up his car with what he made from deliveries and working at fast food places while he was in high school.

  My hands removed the car cover and came away covered in a thin layer of dirt. I moved to the wide double doors and swung them open, letting the light inside. His baby was a beautiful candy apple red 1967 Chevrolet Camaro super sport, which somehow he’d made showroom floor ready again. He’d spent a pretty penny on the details, including a
two-tone pleated interior. He’d rebuilt a mean four hundred and thirty horse power pace performing engine. It was a beauty for sure, with the voice of a V8 that purred to life through a Flowmaster exhaust system.

  Joshua’s best friend Bryce had kept the car in running condition, a small favor that he’d promised to do while I was gone. Cars need attention or they die, just like us. I made a mental note to drive up the border town where Bryce lived and thank him; I owed him that much. I hadn’t been ready to take ownership of the car when I’d left, and he’d agreed to come every three months or so and do the maintenance.

  I pushed the key into the ignition and closed my eyes at the familiar sound of the engine clicking and purring to life as it started up. “I miss you so freaking much,” I whispered to Joshua, wishing for just one more moment to kiss his cheek, or hug him. All those simple things that I’d never get the chance to do, and had taken for granted when I’d had plenty of time to do them.

  I revved the engine and made my way to the main road, then hit the gas, enjoying the rush that came from the power of such a big block engine. I’d gotten so lost in the drive that it was over too quickly. I pulled into the parking lot and took a look at the massive club.

  Club Chaos was huge, bigger than any of the nightclubs I’d seen while I’d been in Portland and Seattle, and they had some pretty massively sized places. The outside was painted black, with a deep crimson red neon light that lined the trim and the doors. There was a bench outside the large club doors, but no one was taking up the space. My eyes moved to the sign again, Club Chaos, all sinners welcomed?

  It didn’t look like much from the outside, but as I moved to the doors and opened them, I was in awe. I didn’t get long to look as a man with a man-bun stopped me from placing more than my foot inside the door.

  “Invitation only, sweetheart,” he growled as he looked me over with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I opened my mouth to make a comment about the bun he wore his dark blond hair in, and snapped my mouth closed. He was seriously working it, and by working it, I mean this guy made it look good. Normally I’d laugh it off; most men couldn’t wear it and make it look anything but hilarious. It wasn’t until he crossed his heavily tatted arms across his wide chest in an intimidating pose that I realized I was checking him out. My eyes lifted to his crystal blue eyes and an image flashed in my mind. Last night, shovel. He’d been digging the dog’s grave. I hadn’t gotten a very good look at him until he’d been behind me, chasing me through the woods.

 

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