Love's a Witch

Dedication

For Donna. Thank you for taking the time to help me believe in myself. You have been with me since I started this journey, and I am grateful for everything you have done for me.

For Jamie. Thank you for making me look good online. I could not do it without you. I owe you a thousand.

For Mary Hughes and Kari Gregg. Thanks for lending me your names and letting me torture your characters. Hopefully, you’ll forgive me someday.

And to all the readers that took a chance on a new author…you fucking rock.

Chapter One

Mary

Great. Don’t leave me alone with a candle. Yet another thing I could consistently screw up. I was only doing twenty or so other things wrong on a daily basis. It’s a good thing we found something new to keep up the variety.

My best bud, Amber, let me keep my name, Mary Fields. At first I thought it was because she didn’t want me to lose my identity, but now, cleaning up the burnt remnants of the hotel curtains for the second time in as many days, I’m starting to wonder if she just didn’t want me to screw up my name too.

I’m not a pyromaniac, I swear. I was trying to trance. I was trying to use the magic I’m supposed to have as a witch. When I let go of my consciousness I must thrash around a lot more than I thought. Or maybe the drapes were doused in gasoline. Normal curtains don’t really burn that fast, do they?

I’ve had psychic dreams for, well, as long as I can remember dreaming. Swirly electric wisps, neon blue hazy clouds, and various other things pop up when I am sleeping that would make any normal person believe they got a bad batch of weed. Those are the dreams I need to pay attention to. Those are the ones that come true. Even with the freaky psychic stuff, though, I’d rather not clean up these curtains. How far up the wall did the smoke go? I put it out fast, but fire is pretty speedy.

Working with the local Wiccan coven in Chicago was supposed to help me train. It worked out okay for a while. They tried to teach me some basics, but a klutz isn’t welcomed into the circle during athame work.

I learned two things the night they let me hold the knife. First, making a high priestess bleed when she wasn’t expecting it…not cool. Second, when you live with vampires, coming home smelling like blood is a lot like walking into a Weight Watchers meeting with powdered sugar on your shirt.

Did I mention that? My best friend is a vampire now. A larger-than-life vampire/werewolf hybrid actually. Amber towers above me by at least half a foot and even though women that tall aren’t common, undead women who can shift into a giant dog are even rarer.

I had a dream the night before she turned vampy, with all the neon blue clouds and green and purple electric swirls. In the dream I walked into the parking lot in front of Amber’s building and saw her there, standing in front of her own tombstone. She laid a flower on the ground and crushed the stone with a bad ass stiletto boot and one swift kick. Then she turned to me and told me it was time to go. The clouds surrounded us and that was all I got.

When I woke up, I knew this wasn’t one of the dreams I could wait to play out. I knew this time I needed to suck it up and let my best friend know I was crazy. Turned out I wasn’t. Just uninformed. A phone call with Amber didn’t tell me much, but the next twenty-four hours gave me an education I never expected to get outside of a horror flick.

I can admit to being kind of freaked out. A lot of my dreams have heavy symbolism. The witches said it’s because I don’t know how to tap into my natural psychic ability, and it leaks out at night. Hence the trancing and the subsequent cleaning up of the curtains that obviously weren’t flame retardant.

The smoke was still heavy in the air when the door to my room burst open. The chain gave way with a loud clang and the knob was ripped from the hollow paneled door. Craig Hart stood there, sniffing the air, then let his hand fall to his side and his sleek golden eyes narrow.

“Do you want to go back to sharing space with two hybrids still in their honeymoon phase? If you keep burning down our hotel rooms we’re going to be forced to get menial jobs, or drastically cut expenses.” Craig was mad. He always seemed to be on edge around me. The way I kept setting things on fire I couldn’t blame him.

Craig was in charge of the Clan’s financial matters. Amber had decided a group of hybrids would be called a ‘Clan’. Not that I needed to know any of this since she wouldn’t let me play her reindeer games, but Amber was the first female leader of a group of hybrids who had broken away from both the vampire and werewolf traditions.

Even though both she and Jake lead the group together, she had the ultimate power. Normally this was a man’s world. Like everything else in her life now, Amber ignored any tradition she didn’t like. She was making up a whole new set of terms. Nobody was willing to call her a queen yet, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

Craig’s a werewolf. Amber and her mate had offered to turn him into a hybrid, but he said no. Since Amber had almost died when she turned, I can’t say I blame him.

“You got me, Craig. I meant to burn the place down. It’s all part of my master plan to send smoke signals to the vampires who are trying to kill my best friend. ’Cause I’m a heinous bitch like that.” Sarcasm is the one thing I do right. You could say I’m fluent. “And he who rips doors off the frame, shouldn’t throw stones.”

Craig held up the knob I don’t think he realized was still in his hand and cursed. “I’ll go pay for repairs. You might as well pack up. They usually kick us out when we cause this much damage.” He didn’t even look back at me as he let the door slam shut behind him.

Of course it bounced open again, due to the lack of a doorknob.

There was no denying it. There were a lot of hotels on our way west that had pictures of the four of us on their
DO NOT RENT
lists. Luckily, we had a pretty good nest egg which Amber’s dad had set aside for us when we made our speedy escape.

I really missed Amber’s dad. I used to go to their family dinners all the time. Now that I understand everyone in attendance had been a werewolf, the epic amounts of food made a lot more sense. Alpha Paulson, and his beta wolf, who we all called Doc, stayed behind when we ran.

Did you catch the part about vampires trying to kill us? That would be Amber’s mate’s father, Kevin Meyers. He is the Matheo, head vampire dude, to the Meyers Family vampires in Indianapolis. At least he was living there when we left. The Matheo was less than excited about his son, Jake, mating with a local werewolf.

It’s a long story.

Jake and Amber lead the Clan I’m traveling with. Amber is a force of nature. She’s loud, crude, and I am pretty sure she has no brain-to-mouth filter. Jake is her mate, and I have never seen a couple overcome so much to be together.

We all had to drop out of college to run from the vampire Family who wanted to carve Jake’s brain from his head to harvest his miasma. That is what the vampires called the photographic memory bonded to his grey matter. Amber stole Jake and his magical brain away, so she was on the chopping block. I just saw too much. Being that vampires enjoyed drinking from humans, and the werewolves wanted to avoid becoming a science project, it was better for me to disappear. Run or find out how they planned to deal with me. The choice wasn’t hard.

The whole fight began over fifty years ago when Amber’s dad found out the Matheo of the Meyers vampires was mated to the shewolf who attacked him and his family. Shit got real. A treaty was put in place. To ensure the safety of the children involved, there was to be no fraternizing between the hybrid baby, Jake, and kept-in-the-dark wolf, Amber.

I could have told these yahoos that whenever you vow to keep a girl and guy apart they are destined to fall in love. Read any epic romance novel. The people who shouldn’t be together always make for the sweetest happily ever afters when they finally make it to the end.

In
this
end, Amber was turned into a hybrid. She ended up with some extra strength and became the first female to lead a supernatural sect. Sure, all of that came with a death sentence from her father-in-law, but seeing the beautiful mating aura that surrounded those two… I was honored to run for my life with them. Although I’m still not sure why, Craig came with us too. He was the only other member of Amber and Jake’s Clan. I am the fourth wheel. The one that spun out of control on occasion and set things on fire.

If I could join the Clan I would in a heartbeat. Humans, even with witchy powers, don’t have the ability to join a supernatural faction. I asked if there was a secret handshake or pledge. Amber said there was something that physically tied them, something they couldn’t make happen for me. I even tried speaking some of the ceremonial words the werewolves and vampires used to connect to their Packs and Families.
Nada
.

I’m pretty sure Craig hated that I was coming along. He never really came near me unless I was in danger of fatally injuring myself, or burning something. Such a shame. Craig had a body that would have been right at home on the cover of one of my erotic romance novels. Heck, he wouldn’t even need the artist to add the fangs for the paranormal pictures. He had his own. He was a giant wall of muscly man. He took his shirt off a lot. I enjoyed it a lot more than I should have, but unlike my best friend, I’m very much alive.

Craig towered over my 5’4” frame. I had brown ordinary wavy hair, and blue eyes. I liked my eyes and used to think they were something that made me stand out. Then Amber turned hybrid and got these amazing eyes that looked like a starburst. They even glowed on occasion. My only distinguishing feature was outdone again.

All I had that was different now were my dreams, and those just made me strange. Among a Clan of vampire and werewolf hybrids, that was a feat. It wasn’t anything new though. I grew up in a foster home and the one time I told my foster parents about the dreams they threatened to send me away. I knew there were some skeevy people out there, so I just kept my mouth shut, and got out the day I turned eighteen.

I tried so hard to blend in when I got to college. Then I met Amber. She was tall and strong, and so confident. Something drew me to her, and I loved how she could just be herself. She ate like a horse, wore whatever she wanted, and had the best dad ever. She had the most beautiful colors too. She radiated a purple with green lightning strikes. The witches told me I was seeing her aura. Craig had said something similar in passing. Whatever.

I don’t always see the colors around people. It’s usually when they are going through a strong emotion. Black with anger or extreme pain, blue with sadness, yellow with happiness and red with passion. I had never seen purple before I met Amber.

And because I met Amber, I was now stuck in this hotel room cleaning up burnt fabric. I pulled a bedspread off the queen-sized mattress, and hung it over the large window that led out to the walkway. No need for anyone to watch me do this. Especially no need to remind Craig. He was already pissed off.

The first time I met Craig he was working his library assistant job on campus. He held full-time hours there, so once I noticed him, it was easy to run into him whenever I wanted. He had the same purple glow Amber did. No offense to Amber, but I liked looking at Craig a lot more.

He wore glasses when he worked at the library to read the print. He would always take them off to look at me when I talked to him. I could see his honey colored irises flex when he looked at me. I would get lost in them.

I’m not even sure why he kept talking to me when I followed behind his restock cart. I was a dim bulb next to his strikingly bright aura, but we both loved talking about history. I read a lot of historical romance novels, and he had to tell me how historically inaccurate a lot of them were. I loved it when I found some that had it right. He would return the smiles I gave him at the library. Now I saw more of his tense back than his smiling face.

I used to read books to him while he returned the dropoffs or did cataloging. He would listen, and call out any incorrect facts or mannerisms that just wouldn’t exist in that time period. Then I tried some edgier books, reading some of
those
scenes out loud to him. Wow. Let’s just say if the man didn’t get a little aroused from my words, he carried one hell of a tool in his pocket.

That time together among the stacks of books was sexy, it was fun, and now…now we were busy trying to get me to understand my powers, and it didn’t happen anymore. I suggested it once. Craig shot me down. He said there were more important things to do.