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Authors: Lacey Weatherford

Tags: #Fantasy, #Speculative Fiction

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BOOK: The Trouble With Spells
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“This is my supply
room where I keep most of my herbs and things I need for rituals,” she
explained.

I looked around,
still not too convinced, because I knew she used herbs for her shop. This could
just be a storage area, couldn’t it? My mind was grasping at straws.

“Come along.” She
waved her hand for me to follow, and I did so, curious to see what else was
down here in this place I’d never known existed. We turned the corner into a
narrow hallway and followed it to where a dark cloaked figure was standing near
a closed door.

“Here’s your robe,
Mother,” the figure spoke, holding a dark garment in his arms.

“Dad?” I croaked
out. The figure tipped his hood back so I could see his face.

“Well, Pumpkin,
what do you think of all this?” He smiled widely at me.

I sputtered and
choked before I could speak. “But you’re an encyclopedia salesman!” I blurted. It
was all I could say as both he and Grandma laughed.

“That’s just a
cover for his real work. Right son?” Grandma patted his hand affectionately,
taking the garment from him.

“Which is what? Super
warlock?” I exclaimed, feeling as if my whole world just tipped upside down.

“I know it’s a lot
to take in, Pumpkin. Just try to be patient.” Dad continued smiling. “We’ll
explain everything to you.”

“Actually, your
dad’s the High Priest of our coven,” Grandma interjected, and I could hear the
proud note that rang in her voice.

“This is unbelievable.”
I dragged a hand over my face while my brain tried desperately to process all
this new information. My whole life suddenly felt like a sham.

Grandma donned her
robe. “We’re taking you to meet the rest of them, so please be respectful. I’ll
answer your questions later when we’re finished.”

“I’m meeting who?
The coven? Now?” I asked incredulously, still wondering if there was some way
this could all be some sort of giant prank.

Grandma and Dad
both nodded simultaneously. Dad opened the door. Grandma walked in first, and
he followed. I took a deep breath and stepped through the entryway wondering
what I would find.

This room was also
made of earth and lit by candles sitting on large ornate candelabras in each
corner. In the center of the space was a round table covered with a red cloth. On
it were purple crystals in the shape of a star, with a pillar candle lit in the
middle. But what really caught my eye were the cloaked and hooded figures
surrounding the table. There were ten other people in the room besides myself,
Grandma, and Dad.

Dad spoke first,
extending a hand out toward me.

“This is my
daughter, Portia.”

“Blessed be,
Portia,” came the unified reply of both male and female voices.

I didn’t know what
to say, so I didn’t say anything. I was sure the shock was apparent on my face.
This did not appear to be a gag.

Grandma came and
took my other arm, and the two of them led me together up to the first hooded
member of the group.

“This is Portia,”
she said to the cloaked individual.

A man’s hands
reached out and took both of mine. He brought my knuckles to his lips and
kissed them slightly.

“Welcome, Portia. Blessed
be,” he said. He dropped my hands and removed the hood of his cloak. “My name
is Hal,” he added with a smile.

Grandma led me to
the next individual in line, this time a woman.

“This is Portia,”
she repeated again.

“Welcome, Portia. Blessed
be,” the woman repeated, kissing my knuckles in the same fashion as the man
before her and then removing her hood.

I was shocked to
see Babs, the massage therapist who worked at Grandma’s store. She smiled
softly at me.

Grandma continued
to lead me around the circle, introducing me to each individual. Each one
extended a welcome before they removed their hoods. I was amazed to find
several people I knew.

 Bruce was a local
restaurant owner I’d seen around town and when our family had eaten dinner at
his place on several occasions. Alice was a Pilates instructor at The Fountains
at Fontane
,
and a good friend of Shelly’s parents. A couple of my
neighbors were there also, Sharon and her brother Fred, who lived across the
street from each other
,
a couple of houses down from ours. The rest were
new to me though, and I noticed then we had reached the last individual in the
circle.

“This is Portia,”
Grandma said once again.

“Welcome, Portia. Blessed
be.”

My heart stopped
beating at the sound of his voice, and the light kiss that brushed my knuckles
sent static shock through my entire being.

The figure removed
his hood, and I stared straight into the bright blue eyes of Vance Mangum.

 

 

Chapter 4

It was two o’clock
in the morning. The members of the coven had all gone, and I was sitting at
Grandma’s kitchen table with her and dad.

“Do you have any
questions?” she asked me sweetly, as if nothing was even amiss.

“Oh, I have
questions,” I replied a bit loudly, my irritation getting the better of me. “A
lot of them!”

“Well, start
asking,” Dad said, patiently. “That’s what we’re here for.”

“I thought we were
Christians, for one thing,” I stated, pulling the first thought that came to me
out of my head. Even though our family had never been what people would
consider super religious, my whole upbringing and belief system was being
challenged. “Or were all the times we went to church just part of this illusion
the two of you created?”

“We are Christian,
Portia. All of that is true. We’ve never tried to lead you astray in that
regard,” Dad stated calmly. “Being a witch is just part of who we are, our
genetic makeup, if you will. It doesn’t take away our belief system. We’ve
always believed in God and Jesus.”

“I thought witches
worshipped some goddess or something.” I realized I knew absolutely nothing
about witchcraft other than what I’d seen in stories, movies, or heard in
history class.

“Some covens do,”
Grandma explained with a nod of her head. “It’s the same as any belief system
anywhere. The people choose what religion they believe and what they’re
comfortable with. Ours just happens to be full of Christian people and we
choose to believe in God as our higher power. But we also believe that magic
can come from many different elements and directions—even some involving other
religious beliefs.”

“Okay.” I let that
sink in for a moment. I guess that made sense, sort of.

“What else do you
want to know?” my dad asked, and I knew I had to find out about the next thing
or my curiosity would kill me.

“Vance Mangum,” I
said, not a question but a statement.

My dad sighed and
sat back in his chair, shaking his head slightly.

“Vance has been a
member of the coven for the past two years, since he came here,” Grandma said,
when my dad didn’t answer. “His aunt’s in our coven also. You met her tonight,
the woman named Marsha. Only she isn’t exactly his aunt.”

“What do you
mean?” I was totally curious.

“Vance is under
the protection of our coven,” Dad spoke up.

“For what reason?”

“We’re hiding
him.” He hesitated for a second before continuing, “From his father.”

“What? Why?” I
demanded to know.

“It’s Vance’s
story to tell,” Grandma interrupted. “But please trust us, Portia. His father
is a very bad man.”

“Is Vance a … a,”
I faltered for the right word, “a warlock then or not?”

“He’s one of the
most powerful warlocks I’ve ever seen at his age,” Dad answered truthfully. “I’ve
never encountered powers like his in someone so young, or even in most adults.”

I grabbed my head
between my hands and rubbed my temples, resting my elbows on the table. My mind
was throbbing with unanswered questions, but there was just too much to
comprehend all at once.

“Why don’t we all
go to bed?” Grandma suggested, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder. “We can
talk more about this tomorrow. Let’s get some rest for now. The two of you are
welcome to stay here tonight.”

My dad shook his
head, pushing away from the table to stand up.

“I can’t, Mom. Stacey
will be home from the hospital soon, so I’ll go home to sleep. Portia can stay
here, though,” he offered. “That way you can show her some more things in the
morning. Is that okay with you, Pumpkin?” he asked me, and I nodded my head
wearily.

“All right then. Drive
safe and have a good night, Sean,” Grandma replied, giving my dad a peck on the
cheek.

Dad gave her a
quick hug, turned and hugged me. “Get some sleep. It’ll all be better in the
morning, I promise.”

I nodded numbly as
I returned his embrace.

After Grandma
shuttled him out the door, she locked it and led me down the hall to the guest
bedroom.

I’d always loved
spending the night in this room. It was decorated in beautiful sky blue and
white colors. The white four-poster bed was covered in a thick down comforter,
and the mattress was one of those comfy beds made with the tempered foam stuff
astronauts used on the space shuttle.

Grandma removed
the throw pillows from the bed and turned the covers back.

“I think you still
have some tank tops and shorts in the drawer over there from the last time you
stayed,” she said, nodding toward the dresser.

I went to check
and found one of my white tops with a pair of tan plaid boxers.

“Yeah, they’re
still here.” I pulled them from the drawer.

“Good. Get some
rest,” she said as I sat on the bed.

She bent over and
kissed my forehead before she walked out the door, closing it behind her.

I changed my
clothes and climbed into bed, pulling the comforter up to my chin. I closed my
eyes, but I couldn’t fall asleep. Too many things were racing madly through my
mind as I replayed my entire life, looking for discrepancies in my personal
history.

Of course my mind
kept flitting back to the things I’d learned about Vance tonight too. Suddenly
a whole lot of things about him were beginning to make more sense, and I
couldn’t help but wonder what all the kids at school would think if they
actually knew the truth about him—not that they would ever find out.

Oh, my head hurt. I
reached up to rub my temples wondering if anything would ever feel normal
again.

I’d been lying
there for several long minutes, contemplating the possible advantage of going
to rummage through Grandma’s medicine cabinet for something to help my
impending migraine, when I heard a sound at the window. I jumped and looked
over at it, but didn’t see anything unusual. I sighed, thinking my overactive
imagination must be getting the better of me, so I closed my eyes.

No, there it was
again. There was definitely something tapping on the window. I got out of bed
and stood there for a minute. I took a deep breath, sucking in some bravery,
and pulled the curtain back quickly. I saw nothing but the hedge.

I sighed, rolling
my eyes at my self-induced paranoia. I quietly eased the window up, thinking
perhaps a branch or something from the bush may be hitting the pane. I leaned
out to look for the offender.

A large hand
clamped over my mouth. I opened it to scream, but the voice that cut through
the still night stopped me.

“Don’t be scared. It’s
just me,” Vance whispered into the air, and he removed his hand.

“Are you trying to
give me a heart attack?” I asked, more than a bit irritated, my breath coming
in quick little gasps. I placed a hand over my heart, which was pounding out of
my chest, in a futile attempt to calm it.

“Not really.” He
laughed quietly, his gaze skimming over my scantily clad form in the moonlight.
“Though I can understand how you might have come to that conclusion.”

“What’re you doing
here, Vance?” I asked impatiently, even though my skin still thrummed where his
hands had touched me.

“I came to see if
you’d like to go for a ride,” he replied, as if that were obvious.

I looked him over,
considering the new information I’d learned about him, but only pondering his
request for about half a second. If there was one thing I was absolutely
certain of tonight, it was that I wanted to spend more time with Vance. I was
completely intrigued by him.

“Yes, I would. But
I need to get some pants on real quick.” I glanced down at my attire, biting at
my lip.

“That might be
beneficial,” he said with another sultry look over me, followed by an
appreciative smile. “I’ll wait here.” He turned to lean up against the wall,
folding his arms over his chest.

 Hurrying over to
where I had left my clothes lying carelessly on the floor earlier, I pulled my
jeans on over the boxers, buttoning them while slipping my feet back into my
shoes.

I wondered if the
incessant pounding in my heart would ever go away, but I didn’t delude
myself that it was due to the shock I’d just had. He was the one causing this
reaction in me. I smiled before I headed back to the window.

I swung my legs up
onto the sill, and Vance helped me slide out to the ground. He grabbed my hand,
and I felt that current shoot through me once again. I wondered if he could
feel it too or if my imagination was running overtime. He led me down the
street, past a couple of houses, to where he had parked his bike on the corner.

I shivered a
little and rubbed my sleeveless arms.

“Maybe I should’ve
grabbed a sweater,” I chattered, realizing in my hurry to join him I’d
forgotten the cooler weather.

Vance immediately
took off his leather jacket and placed it onto my bare shoulders.

“Thanks, but what
about you?” I slipped my arms into the soft worn leather, noticing the scent of
his aftershave, which clung to it.

BOOK: The Trouble With Spells
3.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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