THE ACCIDENTAL END
THE ACCIDENTAL WITCH TRILOGY, Volume 3
Gemma Perfect
Published by Gemma Perfect, 2020.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
The Accidental End
Ellis
1
Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
4
Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Ellis
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Thank you!
The Accidental End
First published in 2020 by Gemma Perfect
Copyright © Gemma Perfect 2020
The moral right of Gemma Perfect to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of Gemma Perfect. All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Ellis
Magic always wins in a fair fight. I know they keep repeating it, like some sort of mantra, but even as I hear it, it sounds hollow to me.
I’m in so much pain. My wrist, though mended, is sore, and my ribs hurt. Every breath is a sharp pain that reminds me how close I came to dying tonight.
I’m done. I just want to go home. I miss normal. I miss boring. I miss my mum, and dad, and Isaac. I miss my dead people.
Fletcher takes my good hand and leads me upstairs. I need a shower, although I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stand. I feel so weak.
I keep getting flashbacks of Efa’s face, the cruel snarl as she kicked me, desperate to hurt me.
What did I ever do?
I feel so sorry for myself. This world of witches and demons and battles to the death isn’t my world. My world is annoying my brother, mourning my best friend’s death, and looking after corpses.
I don’t like Fletcher’s world. I love Fletcher. I really do, but I could live without everybody else.
He sits me on his bed, and I cry out in pain. Moving isn’t helping. I need to be still, but I need to be clean. I need to sleep for a hundred years, like some sad version of Sleeping Beauty. Sleeping broken, bruised and smelly, maybe.
Fletcher stands in front of me, concern making him look even more handsome than normal.
“What can I do?”
I shake my head. I’m too sad to even try to figure it out. “It hurts when I sit, it hurts when I stand, it hurts when I move.”
He leans his head so gently against mine. “I’m so sorry, Ellis. I’ve always felt bad that you’ve been caught up in this, but you nearly died tonight...”
“We all nearly died tonight.”
And in fairness, I didn’t do a lot in this fight we lived through tonight. Everyone protected me, and each one of them fought for me.
I am sobbing now. I feel useless, and helpless, and hopeless. Even at the end, if John hadn’t rescued me, I’d have died without even fighting to live.
“I’m so rubbish. How can a head witch be so rubbish?”
He kisses my head, and I let out a brief moan. Not an ‘in pain’ moan, but an ‘ooh that was nice’ moan.
Way to stay cool, Ellis.
“Ellis, this isn’t meant to be rude, but you’re an accidental head witch. Of course, you can’t do magic or fight like a genuine witch. We learn our magic the way you learned to walk. It’s in us from babies and we know how to harness it.”
“But the fighting? That’s not taught in nursery school, is it?”
“No.” He smiles. “But it’s an extension of our magic. I know instinctively how to kill a demon and nine times out of ten it will work. If it doesn’t work, I can make a fire, or an ice storm, or a hundred other random magical things that might work.”
“I just feel so useless. Every one of you risked your life for me tonight, and every one of you got hurt.”
“Including you. Don’t beat yourself up; you’re in enough pain as it is.”
“I need a bath, but I feel woozy. I might drown.”
He kisses me again. “Just sit. Let me run it. Let me help you.”
I can hear him in the bathroom, running the taps, muttering to himself, and I close my eyes. I could just sleep. Just sleep until it’s all over. Let them fight, let them battle, let them figure out how to stop Zeta and Efa.
I open my eyes, because he calls me. He helps me up and leads me into the bathroom. The bath is full of bubbles and looks ridiculously inviting.
And then I feel shy. I cannot undress myself. I definitely don’t want anyone else to help me. But I don’t want him to see me with no clothes on, either.
He kisses my cheek and then my lips, only softly, only gently, and I close my eyes, ready to drown in his kisses, revel in his touch.
Then he’s undressing me. I touch the wall, leaning against it, to keep myself upright, as he pulls off my boots, then my socks.
I hope my feet don’t smell.
He undoes the button on my jeans and pulls them down, crouching in front of me, pulling one leg off and then the next. He stands up and looks at me, eyes filled with a desire I know we cannot act on. I feel safe with him. I know he knows how much I love him, but I also know he knows how much pain I’m in.
He kisses me again and my skin breaks out in goose bumps.
He’s even slower undressing my top half. It hurts so much. I try to lift my arms up, but I can’t. I cry out in pain, and he kisses my forehead. “It’s okay. I’ll do it this way.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he pulls down one sleeve, untucks my arm from it, and the next one, leaving my arms inside my top, strangely trapped.
I want to look away from him; this feels too intimate, too grown up. But I cannot look away from him.
He lifts my top up, pulling it over my head and stretching the collar so it doesn’t touch my face. He lets go of it and takes me in his arms. He is so careful, so tender, that I feel no pain, only a sweetness as he kisses me.
I am very aware of how few clothes I’m wearing. I’m also very aware of the heat from his hands, burning into my skin. I wonder if there’ll be a mark there when he lets go.
I don’t know what to do next. I don’t want to be naked, bruised, vulnerable in front of him. I want to kiss him, and be his girlfriend, and maybe one day... but not today. Not when I feel like this.
I force myself to look at him, and I see the same questions, desire, uncertainty, in his eyes and it makes me smile.
He takes my hand. “Step into the water.”
I point out to him that I’m still in my knickers and bra, when I get what he means.
A warmth fills me, and my eyes fill with tears.
I step into the water, let the foam cover my underwear, and lay back. The warm water immediately makes me feel better. The heat, the scent of the bubbles, the relief that Fletcher hasn’t seen me naked and sad.
I know he’s left
the room, and I let myself cry. I cry and cry and cry until my eyes are swollen. I sit up, and it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. I splash water over my face, pour shower gel onto my hands and lather it up.
I cry out; I can’t help it – lifting my arms to wash, hurts.
Fletcher steps into the room. “Okay?”
I shake my head, crying again. “I can’t wash.”
He kneels at the side of the bath and pushes my hair off my face. “Let me.”
I close my eyes; I can’t look at him. I feel his hands on me, full of soap, and he gently, carefully, and respectfully washes my skin.
I feel the battle wash off me. I feel the upset wash off me. I feel my embarrassment at being such a rubbish witch wash off me. I know there’s magic in his touch, and my entire body is tingling.
He washes my back, my arms, my shoulders. He stays away from anything that might be too sexy, and I feel like I love him even more.
I dare to open my eyes, and his eyes are dark with desire. They have changed colour, and I feel a thrill that I’ve made him feel like this. I know that he wants me, and I know that he cares so much about me he won’t act on his feelings.
And, unluckily, I’m feeling in too much pain to want to act on my desires.
He clears his throat, smiles at me, a smile that says so much, and then he washes my hair.
I relax a little; his touch is far less electrifying now and I let myself be looked after, let myself be pampered.
He leaves me alone, only for a few minutes, and then comes back with an enormous fluffy towel. He helps me out of the bath, holds the towel up, and carefully, matter-of-factly, and gentlemanly, pulls down my knickers, and unhooks my bra.
He wraps me up, steers me into his bedroom, and dries my hair with magic.
Then he passes me clean clothes. I hope he magicked them up – I don’t want to wear the twin’s clothes, but I don’t want to make a fuss, anyway.
Dry and dressed, he tucks me into bed and lets me fall asleep.
1
Fletcher wakes up next to Ellis. She’s under the covers and he’s on top of them, with a fleece pulled over himself. They aren’t even touching, but he feels so close to her, and such tenderness towards her, he kisses her forehead as she sleeps.
She stirs, and he sits up in the bed. “Good morning. How do you feel?”
“Better.” She sits up and hardly winces. “Your mum is clever. It hardly hurts at all. Do you think we’ll end up in another battle to the death today?”
He nods, laughing. “Possibly. Probably. I haven’t been in any battles my whole life long, and then you came along...”
“Coincidence.”
They laugh. “Let’s get ready. We have no idea what the day will bring.”
“Zeta and Efa. On the rampage.”
“With some demons to help them.”
Ellis groans and then feel tears spring in her eyes.
“Hey, don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it. I’m scared all the time; I feel sick all the time. Don’t you wish it was all over?”
“Of course I do. And it will be. There’s only the two of them left. And all the demons in the world can’t help her if we kill her.”
“Let’s do it.”
He smiles and takes her hand, leading her downstairs for breakfast.
Elodie, ever the hostess, has laid out the table full of delicious food; almost as though she is trying to outdo John’s breakfast spread.
“This is lovely, mum, thanks.”
“We’ll need our energy today. Today, we kill.”
Fletcher glances at Ellis, eyebrows raised, and she can’t help but smile. It isn’t funny; not in the slightest, but there’s something amusing about Elodie, with her flowery apron on, and the table laid with fresh muffins and hot bacon that doesn’t fit with her statement.
“We’re ready. A bit of fuel and then we’ll be even readier.”
“Even readier?” Thea shakes her head. Even in the middle of a war she can’t help her sarcastic judgments.
Ellis takes a bite of a muffin and a sip of hot chocolate. “What is the plan for today? Do we have any idea what Zeta might do next?”
Elodie shakes her head. “We’ll go mad if we try to understand Zeta. Besides, what she does is irrelevant – we have to make the first move. Today we attack, and we win. I’m sick to death of this palaver, and I’ve got a lot of stuff to catch up with on Netflix.”
This time it’s Fletcher who laughs, spitting out some orange juice. His mother glares at him.
“Sorry mum, but that is funny. The end of the world for our species is upon us, but you want to binge watch a few new shows on Netflix.”
Elodie swats at him with her tea-towel but has the grace to smile. “I have a life, beyond this war, and I’m ready to get back to it – that’s all I’m saying. Now, I’m glad we’re all awake and enjoying making fun of me, but we need to make a move, attack, finish this.”
They are all nodding; they are all sick of this.
“So, what do we do?”
Elodie sits at the table and gestures for them all to join her. “I don’t think we need to over complicate it. We use Ellis to find out where they are, we go there, with as many of us as we can. And we kill her.”
“Sounds easy.”
“Don’t be flippant.”
“Sorry, mum, but it sounds too easy. How do we kill her, Efa and all of their minions at the same time? What about the demons?”
“We managed the demons yesterday. They weren’t such a threat as I feared.”
Ember clears her throat. “I think we need to be ultra sneaky. Like she would be. Let’s find out where they are. Take back up, of course, but instead of going in all guns blazing, lets sneak in. Let’s quietly attack. We don’t need the entire world to know what we’re doing. Quiet. Effective. Quick.”
“That’s an excellent idea. Just kill anyone we see there?”
“Yes. We know she has henchmen. There might be demons, though I can’t imagine she’s keeping them too close.”
“She loves drama – and she’s probably expecting a big hoo-ha like Mumbles again.”
“I like it.”
“We leave in half an hour.”
They all rush off to get ready, nerves kicking in.
“I like this idea,” Ellis says to Fletcher as they go upstairs. “Yesterday, on the pier, it was so confusing. There’s bound to have been times in battles and wars where people killed the wrong people. You could easily hurt one of your own and not even realise.”
“Definitely. This will be good. Quick and easy.”
They exchange a glance that shows neither of them is wholly convinced.
Ellis places her hand on his chest. “Fletcher, if I die, will you tell my parents, and Isaac, that I love them so so much.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t.”
“No, please, Fletcher. We don’t know. Zeta will be furious that John betrayed her and furious that I got away. She’ll be furious that we murdered Peri and Layland, and furious that they have beaten her. And Efa.” Ellis shakes her head. “She is evil. Her face when she was kicking me, and when she broke my wrist – she’s crazy, Fletcher. Evil. She enjoyed hurting me; it wasn’t about survival for her, she wasn’t fighting back. I was under their control. She just wanted to hurt me. Just tell me you’ll do it. If something happens to me and I don’t make it home, please just tell them. I love them.”
“I’ll make sure you make it home.”
“You can’t. You can’t know how this will go. We can’t guarantee anything. My parents think I’m on a college trip.”
He takes her hands and kisses her. “I won’t need to, but if, if you don’t make it, if something happens to you, I’ll erase your memory from their minds. Then they won’t be able to mourn you, because they’ll forget they ever knew you. They won’t be heartbroken; they’ll be happy.”
“You can do that?”
He nods.
“Yes. If I d
ie, do that. That’s so much kinder than telling them I’m dead. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But I don’t plan on letting you die.”
“Fletcher, I don’t plan on dying, either, but look at this mess we’re in. People die.”
They hug for a long time, before leaving his room.
Back downstairs everyone is quiet and Elodie looks at them all. “There’ll be about thirty of us there. Most of us will hang back. Keep Ellis safe and if you see anybody, you kill them. We can’t afford to be sentimental. We can’t afford to hesitate. If they’re with Zeta, they’re dead.”
They all feel the weight of those words; but they all know if they hesitate, Zeta won’t. Kill or be killed.
“Right, Ellis. Are you ready?”
She nods, pale and frightened looking. “Fletcher will fly with you. Just take us to her.”
Outside the house Fletcher holds Ellis close, feeling her tremble. “It’s okay. I won’t leave your side today. You’ll be safe with me.”
She nods and wraps her arms around him.
They fly away, waiting for Ellis to give them a direction, waiting for her to tell them where to go. She closes her eyes and Fletcher can hear her muttering, Zeta, Zeta, Zeta, repeatedly.
Then she stiffens. “She’s in the cottage in Mumbles.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods, the wind taking her words.
Fletcher changes course, and the other witches follow suit.
They come to land, not directly outside her cottage, but around the corner.
Elodie asks the back-up witches to station themselves in circles around the cottage, watching and guarding, but not close enough to be seen.
“Ellis, do you feel anything, know anything, see anything?”
Ellis shakes her head, no, but then nods. “There are a lot of boxes here. I think she’s packing.”
Fletcher nods. “That makes sense. It’s stupid for her to stay here now.”
“It’s stupid for her to be here now,” Ember says, frowning.
“Do you think it’s a trap?”
“Maybe. Let me go ahead,” Ember offers. “Get a little closer.”
Elodie shakes her head, no. “If it’s a trap we should all go. If it’s not a trap, then we’re all there together.”
The Accidental End (The Accidental Witch Trilogy Book 3) Page 1