Claiming His Witch (3 page)

“Merry meet again.” Sarah opened her eyes as she whispered the release to the powers of the earth, pulling her hands out of the soil. She looked up at the darkening sky with a frown. “I think it’s time to end this day, ladies. If everyone will grab a couple of the uprooted plants, we can have the yard cleaned up quickly. Repotting can wait until the morning.”

The other members of our coven, three families totaling eighteen women, each grabbed a few straggly plants or root balls and headed for the glass structure at the back of the lighthouse. Scarlett, the youngest of us Weaver triplets, waited by my side as Sarah and Amber walked our way. Sarah stopped directly in front of me, reaching out to brush one dirty finger down the side of my face. Her eyes were sharp, almost invasive in the way they evaluated me. I blinked and took a deep breath. How she knew I was struggling with something was a mystery, but it spoke to her strength, her power, and her insight into the women of her coven.

“What’s going on with you? Your aura is a mess, child.” She squinted, the wrinkles around her eyes forming a pattern of lines and swirls that only added to her beauty. Her intense scrutiny calmed me in a way nothing else could. Sarah had led this coven for decades before stepping aside when cancer began its slow overtaking of her body. Even as ill as she was, she radiated knowledge and strength. She may not have been the high priestess any longer, but she would know what to do. She would know what power was making me feel such a pull and how to handle it.

I opened my mouth to speak, but another person suddenly invaded our space.

“The hunter is near; we should leave this town.”

“Nonsense.” Sarah turned. “I refuse to abandon my home because you saw a dog in the woods.”

Clara Gardner, one of the oldest witches in our coven and one of the three current coven elders, straightened her shoulders and peered back at Sarah. “It was not a dog. It was a hunter in his wolf form. I watched that man turn into that beast and stalk around the lighthouse. The hounds are here to hunt us; you would be wise to listen to my warning.”

Sarah sighed and looked to Amber. Air magick enhanced the natural intuition of a witch, making my sister, born with the element of air as the base of her magick, quite the crutch when anything happened around the coven. And the possibility of witch hunters in the area was no different.
 

“I can’t tell you if a hunter is in the area, though there’s definitely a dark energy near.” Amber glanced at Clara. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say I felt something more, but I can’t get a clear picture.”

“You don’t see anything at all?” Sarah asked.
 

Amber thought for a moment. “Not really. It’s very…fuzzy—I guess that would be the way to describe it. It’s as if I run into a veil of some sort.”

Sarah frowned, exaggerating the wrinkles around her mouth. “I think tonight would be a good time for meditation, Amber. I could use a little extra rest myself. Maybe all this preparation for winter has us distracted.”
 

Amber didn’t look convinced as she stared at the lighthouse. “Could be. It’s just so”—she brought her hand up, fingers tracing wavy shapes in the air—“smoky.”

“I know how frustrating it can be when you feel blocked.” Sarah gave Amber’s hand a squeeze before turning back to Clara. The older witch did not look happy.

“Don’t you dare dismiss my concerns, Sarah Bishop.”

“I’m not; I’m simply asking for a little time to work out what’s happening. Let us have the night—Amber will meditate to clear her mind and perhaps get a better idea of this dark energy she feels. None of us wants to deal with a witch hunter, but I refuse to leave my home without some kind of proof we’re in danger. Something other than a wolf in the woods.”

Clara glared for a few seconds before sighing and nodding her head. “Fine, but be quick about it. A witch hunter waits for no one.”
 

Sarah nodded before turning her gray eyes on me. “And what’s happening with you? Your energy’s all over the place.”

I sighed, the draw to the mystery
something
making me crazy, like an itch I couldn’t reach. “I feel a pull, a strong one. It wants me to go south.”

“Still?” Sarah looked at me with concern.
 

I shrugged. “It’s been growing all day. I can’t make it stop; not even spending time at the waterline soothed it. I’ve never felt something so intense.”

I noticed a look of anticipation pass through Sarah’s eyes, though whether it was good or bad was hard to tell. I hated that this urge to be somewhere else had become a concern. Truth be told, the sensation scared me, but it was also exciting. Something was close. Something that would change my world… I knew it, could feel it. I just had to find it.
 

Sarah looked to Amber, as usual, for guidance but my sister could only shrug.
 

“I got nothing.”
 

Clara shuffled in my direction, staring at me with her watery blue eyes. “It’s a sign. Middle Weaver senses the hunter, and the Goddess is telling her to flee.” She grabbed my arm, her knobby hands surprisingly strong for such an old lady. “You must listen to the call, child. Run far away from here. The hunter will not spare you because of your youth. They prefer to kill while the witch is young, before her power of defense grows too strong. They’d kill all the witchlings if they could.”

“We do have names, you know.” Scarlett stepped between the old witch and me, Amber quickly joining her. No one threatened one of the Weaver girls without earning the wrath of the other two. We were often viewed as one entity instead of three grown women with minds of our own. Most of the time, this rankled, but when we were in trouble, the bond between us worked in our favor. There was no taking on one sister—if someone chose to attack one, they’d be dealing with all three.
 

“No one is running and no one is getting killed.” Sarah glowered at the older witch until she released my arm. She then nodded at Bethesda, the current high priestess of the coven, before addressing the witches who’d gathered around us. “Amber doesn’t sense a hunter, but Clara is convinced one is near due to the wolf she says was in our woods. I’m not disregarding the claim that danger could be close, only asking that we not overreact until we know more. We need confirmation that there’s a hunter in our midst before we can direct the coven on what to do.”

“One of us could be dead by the time we have confirmation he’s a hunter,” Clara’s daughter called from her place beside her mother.

“No one is dying.” Sarah stepped into the center of the circle, raising her voice and eyeing each woman in turn. She was the epitome of a powerful witch—long, white hair blowing in the wind, standing barefoot in the grass despite the cold to keep her connection to her power. Though not as strong or agile as she’d once been, she still commanded the attention of the witches. “The coven will stay put until we know more. Amber will meditate tonight to clear her sight. And tonight, I’ll spend time with Clara and Bethesda in the ritual room to search the grimoire for references to witch hunters. If there’s a threat, Bethesda will call a meeting of the elders to determine our best course of action. For now, I want everyone to settle down. There’s no need to panic.”

There was a great deal of whispers and mumbling as the members of the coven broke apart to return to their homes. Everyone was anxious, worrying about the extermination a witch hunter could do. It’d happened before, in other towns, and to other covens. Whole families wiped out in a blink, leaving no trace of them or their magick. So while Clara jumping to the conclusion that there was a hunter in the woods was a bit farfetched, it was still something to worry about. A witch hunter would murder us all without pause or regret. All because they believed witches worshiped the devil. Idiots…if they actually knew anything about us, they’d know we not only didn’t worship the devil, we didn’t even believe in one.

“Girls, let’s go,” Sarah mumbled, sounding more tired than she had just moments before. The cold weather had been wearing on her, and the shorter days due to the time change had us all a bit weary. We turned to head toward the lighthouse where we lived with a number of other coven witches, but Sarah stopped us.

“No, no, this isn’t right.” She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment before glancing between the three of us. “Amber, go to the house for your meditation. We need to determine what’s happening before we have a revolt from the rest of the coven. Azurine”—she met my anticipatory gaze with a small smile—“you need to run. Go south like you want to. Run until you find what it is your soul needs.”

My heart raced at the thought of following the pull, but there were things to do, books and documents to study. I’d read and reread every book in the official coven library ever since I was a child; if there was information to be found, I’d be the best one to search for it.

“I should stay and help the coven.” Even as I spoke the words, I tasted their wrongness. My soul didn’t need to be in the ritual room, poring over old books and papers. It needed to be out, to answer the call it had been hearing all day. And luckily, Sarah seemed to know this and accept it before I did.

“The Fates are telling you to go south. I suggest you follow their guidance.” Sarah gave me a small shrug. “Your intuition is strong, but mine is stronger. If you go south, I have a feeling something wonderful will come your way. Scarlett, go with her. Don’t separate, and keep each other safe.”

“But what if—” Amber’s argument was cut off by Sarah’s harsh cough. We all watched as her body seized and trembled with the effort, suffering right alongside her. When she was finished, Sarah shook her head.

“Trust the Fates, Amber Jane. They’re calling to your sister for a reason.” She turned toward the lighthouse, linking arms with Amber as they began the trek toward the old brick building lighting up the sky. “There’s magick in the air tonight, Azurine. Don’t miss the chance to experience it.”

As they reached the stone pathway leading to the porch, I turned to Scarlett, still unsure about what I should do. Torn, really. To stay and help the coven research or go and find…something. But Scarlett could only shrug.

“She told you to go; we’ve never really disobeyed her before.” She rolled her eyes at my raised eyebrows. “Not about magick type stuff.”
 

My eyebrows went higher, making Scarlett huff.

“I did
not
set the porch on fire, so don’t even bring that up.” She looked over the grass around the lake, pulling her fleece jacket tighter around her and shivering in the cold night air. “We go home or we follow whatever bug’s crawled up in your magick grill. You decide. But either way, I’d really like to get moving. It’s cold out here.”

I swallowed, nearly shaking with the need to run. This was it; my chance to discover what had been calling to me all day. Closing my eyes and giving myself over to the power within, I let the call of the water guide me to make my decision. Without conscious thought, I started running.
 

South.

My very soul sang as I finally headed in the right direction, happy and anxious to get to what was waiting for me. We ran down the beach, following the shore. Once we had traveled far enough to be outside the circle of light cast by the lighthouse, Scarlett moved to a position just slightly ahead of me. She led me toward the trees, flames burning bright on the ends of her fingers, lighting our way through the night. Though the moon was high and nearly full, it didn’t filter through the trees set back off the coast. And that was where we needed to go. Into the woods.

The pull that had been tormenting me all day roared, a great wave of need making me run faster as I turned slightly off the path.

“Zuri! Where are we going?”

I ignored Scarlett and continued, surrendering to the need, heading exactly where my soul wanted to be. Over rocks and past trees, following the shoreline but veering farther and farther inland. As I came to a small creek, I turned west, following the water as it carved a road deeper into the woods. This continued for what had to be close to half a mile. South then west, south then west, mirroring the curve of the coast without running too near the water’s edge. Scarlett stayed at my side, following my lead and lighting our way, but I couldn’t focus on her. There was nothing but the want. Nothing but the pressure to be elsewhere. Nothing but—

I tried to stop as I raced into a clearing lit by a campfire, but the sudden change in ground and speed made me stumble. A second later, Scarlett crashed into me from behind, knocking us both to the ground. We scrambled to right ourselves, working against one another as we pushed and twisted.
 

“Damn it, hold still,” Scarlett hissed. I huffed and stopped fighting, relieved when her weight finally left my body. As I lifted my face out of the dirt, ready to be humiliated by whoever had seen our fall, I was met with muddy gray fur, blindingly white teeth…
 

And the deep and terrifying growl of the huge wolf standing right in front of me.

We rolled onto Feral Breed land and parked next to Rebel’s truck. My stomach dropped at the sight of the black Ford he drove when not on his bike. He’d given me a job to do. Well, a couple of jobs. Start investigating the issues at the Kalamazoo den and check in on his new bagger. I had nothing on the missing shifter yet except Beast’s claim that Spook wasn’t that type of guy, and we’d left Rebel’s bike at the Yard Shark garage to bring mine to the camp. We should have left mine and brought the bagger, or I should have ridden over on the bike instead of in the truck. Either probably would have been a better decision.

The fire was already burning bright against the dark of the early nightfall. All four cabins were lit from within, bathing the area in a golden light, but the place might as well have been a haunted house for the anxiety rushing through my blood. I’d only just arrived, yet I felt as if I’d already failed.
 

“Looks like they got here a little earlier than planned.” Beast nodded toward the stack of firewood against the shed on the far side of the property. Easily five feet high and fifteen feet long, the pile would’ve taken Rebel hours to chop. I should’ve been there to help him—just another failure to add to my list.