The Sorceress Screams

Evernight
Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2014 Anya Breton

 
ISBN: 978-1-77130-783-3

Cover
Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor:
Karyn
White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING:
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is
illegal.
 
No part of this book may be
used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a
work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To my beta
readers—Jean, Melissa,
Cathryn
and
Lynsey
, thanks for the feedback and sweet suggestions. I
couldn’t have done it without you!

THE SORCERESS SCREAMS

Sorceress Series, 2

Anya Breton

Copyright
© 2014

Chapter
One

Nell
Kranz
stood at the glass entrance to my shop, gaping at my
head. “Crap in a hat,
Kora
! What in the shit did you
do to your hair?”

My new edgy
look
was
drastic, but I hadn’t
thought it was that bad.
Until
now
.
I winced and self-consciously fluffed my hair. Recent events
had forced me into a shorter and spikier style, though it was the same cerulean
blue color it had been for a decade.

Nell kicked
out her right hip, settling her trim weight atop it. I froze beneath her
careful examination. She had yet to speak her findings, but the crinkling of
her cute button nose said it all. I resisted the urge to cringe.

Her features
softened. “You know, it’s not half bad. It could grow on me.”

I released a
nervous laugh.
“Yeah?”

She nodded,
perhaps rather than lie again. One fine-fingered hand gestured at my head. “So
what prompted that?”

“Uh …
Ascencion
Boleda
prompted this.”

“That
bitch
.” A glare narrowed Nell’s pretty
blue eyes. “What did she do? Take a hacksaw to your hair?”

I brushed
fingers over the spiky tips.
It wasn’t
that
bad, was it?

Nell shifted
in her spot. Her curvy hip pushed against the glass display case serving as our
counter. The dull thud was a reminder that I was supposed to be doing
something.

Right,
explaining what had happened.

“She wanted to
get me back for … attacking her, so she set me on fire.” I’d hesitated because
Nell knew only that I had the ability to access both the Air and Earth schools
of magic. She didn’t know I could access
all
schools of magic. I wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.
“Twice.”

Nell whistled
dramatically. “You look damn good for someone who was set on fire twice.”

“Maximo de
Sole called a Healer,” I said, avoiding her gaze. I had to clear my throat
nervously before I could speak again. “I think he called the Healer after he
killed
Ascencion
.”

Soon enough it
would be public knowledge that
Wipuk’s
First—the head
of all of the vampires living in the hidden colony of witches—had killed his
lover last night. Still there was a nervous wobble in my stomach when I thought
of it. Maximo had killed
Ascencion
because of me.
That weighed heavily on my conscience even though I hadn’t been directly
involved.

Yes, the woman
had kidnapped me twice and stolen my ring. Yes, she’d hit me hard enough to
cause a concussion several times. And yes, she’d set me on fire. But I wouldn’t
have killed her. I’d have hurt her, really, really …
really
badly, but I wouldn’t have taken her life. I couldn’t afford
to do that. The smallest sin could prove disastrous when I died.

“
Ascencion
Boleda
is dead?” Nell’s
wooden delivery put me on the defensive.

“I didn’t see
him do it. But he wrote me a note that said she wouldn’t bother me again.”

And the bastard had kept my ring
. My mother wasn’t pleased about that. Not when it gave the wearer
access to every school of magic. Getting the piece back was now priority number
one.

“That could
mean he’s got her locked up in a basement,” Nell said.

I liked that
she didn’t immediately jump to the gloomiest answer.
Even if
she was
wrong this time.
I
nodded for her rather than argue.

“Black-tipped
and spiked,” she said—I assumed about my hair, perhaps in an attempt to bring
us back to a happier topic. She shook her head. “You’re going punk rocker on
me. Is this because of that hot tattooed guy who was in here yesterday? You
know he said you made a cute
goth
girl. Maybe he won’t
like you as a punk girl.”

Had that been
yesterday? The guy from the charity party’s visit seemed like ages ago. I
doubted anything would come of him asking for my phone number. Given any delay
between meeting and sex, my nemesis managed to scare off my dates.

But Trip was
absent now—either avoiding me or serving a punishment in Tartarus. Did that
mean I could date?

“No.” I
definitely hadn’t changed my look because of a guy. “
Ascencion
set my hair on fire. It was all jagged and singed. I went to Hannah this
morning so she could salvage what she could. She suggested I just go with the
punk thing and color the tips.”

Nell’s lips
formed a narrow moue.
Her
stylist had
given the advice.

I yanked a
compact out of my purse for a look at myself. Supernaturally altering my skin
and hair pigments was second nature. I didn’t notice I was working the magic
anymore. The only things that remained of my natural hair color—raven thanks to
my human father—were my sculpted eyebrows. I could have altered them as well,
but blue eyebrows on pale skin simply looked wrong.

The
black-tipped hair was a little much. I had to admit that.

What had I
been thinking? I couldn’t override a chemical dye with Water magic. I’d have to
wait until I could cut the color off. What had been chin length before now
ranged from as short as one inch to six inches—all spiked away from my head
with seeming
irreverence.
Thumbing my nose at
convention hadn’t been the idea. Flames to the head had done that for me. Now
it would be months before I’d be back to normal.

I snapped the
compact shut with
a heaved
sigh.

“I guess it
matches your outfit better,” Nell said.

My attention
dropped to my orange V-neck T-shirt. I liked shades of orange in my top because
it complemented my hair. And I almost always wore cropped jean shorts or a jean
skirt with my black Doc Marten boots.

“My hair will
grow out eventually,” I grumbled while getting to my feet so I could straighten
the display of charmed gardening tools on the darkly stained shelf to my right.
We’d spent far too long discussing my hair.

I glanced at
the black and silver wall clock behind the glass display case.
Noon.

Nell noted
what I’d been doing and scuffed her way to the front door. She turned the lock
and then flipped the switch on the LED sign.

Should I
extend my hours now that I had an employee? There was little incentive to open
earlier when our afternoons were dead. Plus I had a whole other shop up the
stairs I was technically supposed to be manning. Located in
Wipuk
—the
magical pocket of land positioned roughly above Sedona, Arizona—the upper floor
was home to the costliest items I carried. But no one shopped there. The
colony’s general distrust of me saw to that.

We both heard
the jingle of the bell on the
Wipuk
door. I turned
toward the stairs first, a quick shot of hope sliding within me.

“Ms. Walsh?”

The familiar,
smooth cadence of Desmond Marino halted me where I was.

He was risking
being seen in my shop in
Wipuk
?
Quite
shocking considering he was embarrassed to be seen with me in public
anywhere
.
The high priest of the
country’s Water witches was the biggest snob I’d ever met. But Hera help me, he
was gorgeous.

“
Kora
?”

He’d never
called me
Kora
. Not even when he’d had my fingers
millimeters from his lips.

Nell shot me a
wide-eyed look that twisted into disgust. She’d get rid of him if I let her go
up. But I wanted to know what had brought him into my shop on the practically
forbidden
Wipuk
side. And what had prompted him to
use my nickname.

I held up my
palm for Nell’s benefit and then started up the stairs. “I’m coming,” I called
out so he wouldn’t be surprised by a sudden appearance.