Chapter 1
I never thought I’d return to the place where I killed sixty-six people.
Every step I took past the wooden Witch Haven village sign felt wrong, and I almost expected an alarm to go off and a spell to toss me back the way I’d come.
I wouldn’t have blamed the residents one bit if they’d rigged something up to stop me returning.
Even the path I walked on seemed unwelcoming as I stumbled in a pothole and almost landed on my butt.
There never used to be holes in the paths. This village was making it clear I wasn’t welcome home. No surprise there.
It had been fifteen years since I’d crossed the border into the magical community I’d grown up in. I recognized the familiar outlines of some of the ancient cottages and the old, gnarled trees I used to play in. It was as if time had stood still.
Well, almost.
The once welcoming atmosphere Witch Haven was renowned for, radiated with tension and suspicion.
I glanced over my shoulder, convinced I was being followed, but the street was deserted. The tight ache in my shoulders still stuck fast.
When had Witch Haven changed? Had this hopeless atmosphere descended after the killings? I’d not had the option to stick around to see how the village coped with losing so many people in a single day.
A soft sigh slid from my lips. If only they knew just how many had escaped that night, they might have held me a welcome home parade, complete with pitchforks and burning effigies in my image.
What this little place didn’t know, was that we’d planned to kill six hundred and sixty-six people. And we’d almost gotten away with it. What’s one little missing digit between neighbors?
But I wasn’t back to finish what we’d started. My murderous desires had been trained out of me. And I didn’t even remember why we started along that path. Some things were best left in the past.
I stopped outside the Fandango bakery with its white and pink paint job, and rested my forehead against the cool glass, peering at the empty shelves that were usually crammed with delicious, sugary treats. I’d spent most of my childhood in this place, feasting on the desserts provided by Luna Brimstone’s family.
Not that I’d had a terrible home life and needed the escape, but who could resist the allure of fresh, still warm and gooey bakery goodies? It was teenage girl heaven.
I hadn’t spoken to Luna since that fateful, murderous day. It made sense she wouldn’t want to stay friends with someone who’d planned to wipe out half the village, Luna’s family included.
But even after all this time, I missed our late-night conversations and midnight feasts. And I missed her easy laugh and her warm hugs. Luna was a big hugger. Me, not so much, but I always accepted one from her.
Another sigh came out of me. I couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. I hadn’t wanted to come back to Witch Haven, but I’d been given no choice.
I turned away from the bakery, walked past the long curving row of independent stores, from the apothecary to the wand store, and turned down Buttercup Lane. It was a walk I knew only too well.
Darkness closed in on either side as the trees cast their long shadows over the dirt path that led to my stepmom’s house. Magda Ash, the woman who’d treated me like her own until the end.
I closed my eyes and kept on walking. I’d snuck along this path so many times late at night after being out past curfew that I really could do it with my eyes closed. I knew every bend, dip, and every spiky bush to avoid. Even after more than a decade away.
Keeping my eyes closed also meant I didn’t need to acknowledge the tears that sprung up out of nowhere.
I wasn’t sad, though. I was angry. Angry tears were the worst, and I wasn’t a pretty crier. I’d never met anyone who could cry and still look cute. That only happened in the movies. No one looked good with swollen eyelids and a soggy nose.
I’d been waiting for this day to come ever since Magda went to prison. It could have been worse. Instead of prison for the rest of her life, she could have been stripped of her powers and sent into the mortal world.
But the authorities had wanted answers from her. They wanted to know the reason we’d committed such awful, unforgiveable crimes.
Magda never talked. She never revealed the truth. And neither did I. There was a good reason for that. I didn’t know why we’d done it. I had no memory of that day, or the week leading up to that dark time in Witch Haven’s history.
My therapist said it was the shock blocking out traumatic events. It was the brain’s way of coping.
I had no idea whether that was true, but her report meant I wasn’t constantly questioned by the authorities. The same couldn’t be said for my stepmom.
Now, they’d never know the truth. Because Magda was dead, and I was here to deal with the mess she’d left behind.
I stopped at the end of the lane, turned on my heel, and stared at the large, looming detached house in front of me. This had been my home for seventeen years. My biological mom died giving birth to me, and my dad remarried when I was less than a year old. Magda had been an awesome stepmom and had fit right in this house.
My gaze tightened as I scanned the yard. All the flowerbeds at the front were wildly overgrown. It looked like no-one had touched them since Magda’s imprisonment. I certainly hadn’t, and she hadn’t left behind a single friend in the village who’d keep an eye on this place. No one wanted anything to do with a dark-magic-using witch or her crazy stepdaughter.
I pulled a folded letter from the pocket of my long, black coat and unfolded it. It was written on thick cream parchment paper using ink. It was typical of the Magic Council to think it was okay to chop down trees to create such luxurious and wasteful paper. It was their style. They were full of so much pomposity and self-righteousness that it made me queasy.
I’d read this letter a dozen times since it arrived three weeks ago and knew the contents off by heart.
Dear Indigo Ash,
Following the death of your stepmother, Magda Ash, you are required to clear her residence at 354 Buttercup Close in Witch Haven. As you are aware, the property has been left to you in her will.
This property therefore falls under your responsibility. As does the following:
Thirteen years’ of unpaid tax
Death duties
The immediate removal of all illicit magic items
You have twenty-eight days to pay the money owed and remove the items.
I smirked as I read that line. Every day I’d ignored the letter. Then new letters had arrived. They didn’t fly in Hogwarts style by magical owl, but I got a letter through the door every other day, demanding a response.
The Magic Council must be keen on getting Magda’s place cleared out, and the money owed them. They’d be lucky to get all their cash back. I had no pot of gold. I scraped by on a pittance, choosing not to use my magic, and worked cash-in-hand jobs whenever I could get them. That meant I had zero savings, and no way of paying the six-figure debt that came with this place.
Not that I wanted anything to do with the house. This was where it all started, the slide into darkness. This was the place where Magda had plotted murder, with me as her willing sidekick.
Each time I’d ignored a letter, the contents became less friendly and more challenging.
What finally prompted me to return was the threat of jail for non-compliance and further re-education to ensure my magic abilities hadn’t gone astray.
I grimaced as the memories of my last re-education surfaced. A year in an open prison, working alongside some of the most twisted and meanest magic users I’d ever met. And the Magic Council’s version of re-education was to find methods that effectively drained and restrained my magic, so I always felt like a malnourished puppy.
It took them a while to figure out what tamped down my power. Magda had trained me well, and I was competent in all magic use, excelling in elemental magic.
But my time in prison had been a painful daily drag, the food terrible, and the cell sparse and devoid of comfort. Well, it was a prison. I couldn’t have expected anything else.
My imprisonment had slowly worn down my resistance until I’d become a pale version of what I once was.
Ash witches had been magnificent. Fire magic was our strength. We were respected in all communities. Known as protectors, fearless, driven, and assured in our use of such potent power.
And Magda had worked with me to stoke my magic and show me how strong I could be.
The Ash witch reputation was now shredded. And all because of me.
Since then, I’d stepped away from magic. Sure, I’d had no choice when I got sent to prison, and I should be grateful that was all I got.
I’d been seventeen when the murders happened, so was tried as a minor. If I’d been a few months older, I’d have gone to the same place as Magda. And look what happened to her. She’d lasted three years in maximum security.
I rested a hand on the gate that led to the overgrown path to the dark purple front door. I tugged a strand of my straggly hair and smiled. Magda had painted that door to match my hair the first time I’d dyed it.
“Stop!” I whispered the word into the cool night air. I had to forget the happy memories, too. There was nothing happy about coming back here. I was here for one reason only.
My plan was simple. Get in, clear out the house, and leave. I’d sell the place for whatever I could get, clear the debts as much as I could, and wipe this miserable mission from my thoughts as soon as I walked past the sign telling me I was leaving Witch Haven.
And I’d arrived in the middle of the night for a good reason. I could work when it was dark without being disturbed, sleep in the day, and avoid seeing anyone.
I reckoned it would take me three days to clear this place, and then I could get out before anyone knew I’d been here. I didn’t need to hang around and wait for a sale to go through. A realtor would deal with that. So long as I made it clean enough for viewings and wiped out any dark remnants of my family from the place, I could go back to my life.
It was better that way. No one wanted an Ash witch in this village. And I didn’t want to bump into anyone from my past. There’d be no wonderful memories to share with them. Everyone remembered me for one thing. I was a dark witch. A killer.
I shoved the gate open a few inches, its hinges protesting from lack of use. But it wasn’t just a rusty hinge making it hard to get in.
My breath caught in my throat. Magda’s magic was still alive. She must have warded this place before being arrested. I’d recognize her magic signature anywhere.
My heart gave a painful thud. I missed her magic. It always felt like home and smelled faintly of freshly baked bread. That was until she’d changed.
This magic surrounding the house felt distorted. Of course it would. Magda was dead, so there was nothing keeping the magic refreshed.
A witch’s power faded once her life force was gone. Any spells she cast would erode, and that made the remaining magic dangerous.
“It makes sense now why the Magic Council has been so antsy about me coming to deal with this,” I whispered. They wanted the problem erased so they wouldn’t have to deal with it.
Although what they expected me to do about it, I had no clue. After all, they’d drained my magic. I was a witch operating on a quarter of my power. I was a sapling witch who could barely cast a light spell without needing to sleep for a day.
I pressed a hand against the wards, and Magda’s magic tickled against my skin. It felt like it recognized me.
Wards kept people out, or kept things in, but they could also be created so they recognized friends. And this magic definitely knew me. It danced across my skin, raising the hairs on my arm, and tickling under my armpit. It meant me no harm. So long as I was careful, I should be able to find a way through.
A huge, dark shadow swooped out of the sky, and I ducked as wicked sharp claws scored past my cheek, leaving a stinging cut.
I crouched on the ground, my hand going to my cheek, and felt a warm trickle of blood. “What the heck was that?” I scuttled on my hands and knees, the press of Magda’s magic all around me.
Witch Haven had a crazy array of magic-wielding creatures, not all of them friendly, and I didn’t have the energy to tangle with anything tonight.
I was heading for the steps up onto the porch, when the clawed beast with wings flew down a second time.
I shot out a repelling spell, but it was so weak, only a few sparkles shot out the end of my fingertips and dripped to the ground. Pathetic.
The winged beast gave a croaking cackle as its claws tangled in my hair and yanked me up.
“Hey! I’m not looking for a restyle, you big jerk. Get your claws out of my hair.” I reached up and grabbed whatever had hold of me. My fingers closed around a skinny body covered in silky feathers. Not exactly the killer eagle I was expecting to find.
There was a sharp squawk of protest, but I wasn’t letting go.
“What are you, some kind of demon bird? One of my stepmom’s attempts to discourage people from trespassing on her property.” Magda had always had an affinity with animals, and they were often on hand to do her bidding. I used to tease her she was like Snow White, because there was often a line of animals outside the house, hoping to fill the role of her familiar.
I straightened my arms to dislodge the bird, wincing as I lost hair. I lowered my arms and stared at a scruffy, dirty crow with a bald patch on its head.
The bird glared right back at me, then jabbed my hand with its shiny beak.
I released my grip and yelped as the beak punctured my skin.
The crow cackled again, then flew off to settle on top of the roof.
“You’re not welcome here.” I gripped the wound on my hand. If I had my magic, I could have healed the bloody peck in seconds. “This is my home now. Flap off and don’t come back.” The mean bird didn’t need to know this was only my home for a few days.
The crow gave another rusty cackle, before taking to the sky and soaring in an arc around the house.
I kept a close eye on the evil bird as I headed to the porch. I placed one foot on the first step and was suddenly flying through the air. I landed with a thud on my butt by the gate, winded, and a jarring pain radiating up my spine.
“Oh, come on! You must recognize me. I grew up here. You’re mine now. I’ve got the dumb paperwork to prove it.” There was no way these wards were keeping me out of this house.
I charged back to the steps and ran my hands over the wards. This magic was much stronger, and not happy to have an intruder on the premises.
Magda must have installed two barriers of protection. The first defense was already eroding, but these were strong, and far more powerful than anything I had in my feeble arsenal. I didn’t even have an arsenal, I had a half-empty water pistol that wouldn’t shoot straight.
Resentment simmered through me. Stripping a witch of her powers was a humiliation. It sent a message to the world that she couldn’t be trusted with her innate ability. She wasn’t worthy to keep magic.
It was the Magic Council’s way of teaching me a lesson and setting an example to other magic users who broke the rule of using their powers to harm others.
You could legitimately use magic to defend yourself and if you were in danger, but you never maliciously used it to harm innocents. And there’d been plenty of innocents lost the day Magda and I tried to bring down this place.
I sagged against the porch. I was cold, tired, and hungry. I needed sleep, and a good meal. I’d grabbed a sandwich when I’d left my apartment in downtown York Town six hours ago. Now, I regretted not eating properly. And I hadn’t even thought about what I’d do for food once I got here. There was no way I was dropping in to the diner to say hello to old friends. They’d probably poison me.
Magda used to keep a supply of tinned food. I hoped it was still there. Tinned goods were just like Twinkies. They lasted forever.
I didn’t want to tackle the wards now, but I had no choice, unless I wanted to sleep outside. The longer I delayed, the more likely it was that someone would see me, and rumors spread like dirt on a white dress in this place. Then the trouble really would begin.
I had to stick to my plan. Get in, clear the house, and get out. Avoiding everyone while I did that.
A low growl caught my attention, and my muscles stiffened. I turned toward the sound and spotted two glowing yellow eyes staring at me.
Great, a hungry were-beast thinking I was its next meal. My night had just gone from lousy to a horror show.
ReplyForwardAttendee panel closed
