Witch (Cursed book 4) Read online

  “You look as though you could use a walk, perhaps.”

  He looked up at the old man and laughed, “I’m going to kill her, is what’s going to happen. Has she called?”

  Roland shook his head, “Not in the last twenty-eight minutes since you last asked. Why don’t you just go to her?”

  He sighed and dropped into the over-sized chaise, “I can’t. God, I told her I trusted her. What a mistake. Aimee has her. She’s going to get her killed.”

  Roland laughed, “I don’t think I can imagine anything strong enough to kill Miss Hanna. Beyond you.” His eyes glinted with knowledge, making Sam blush.

  “You flatter me, Roland.”

  Roland shook his head, leaving the room silently, “I think not.”

  Sam stood again, continuing to pace. He looked at the cell phone on the bureau and tapped his fingers against his legs. He grabbed the phone and flashed from the room.

  He walked across the floor of Lydia’s house, looking for someone—anyone.

  He walked until he found Lucas sitting on the couch, staring at the wall across from him in the largest of sitting rooms. He sat alone. He had been doing that since Ben had died.

  “Hey, man.”

  Lucas didn’t even flinch, as he spoke without tearing his gaze from its spot, “Hey, Sam. What’s up?”

  “Oh, not much.” He slumped into the chair across from Lucas. Lucas never met his gaze.

  “You waiting for them to get back?”

  Sam sighed and grinned, “Did Ari go too?”

  He nodded.

  Sam felt a sickening pain fill his stomach as he thought about Ben. The room felt empty without him.

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  An expression crept across Lucas’ face but it was gone when he spoke, “Not allowed. Lorri said no retaliation on this one. We’re dealing with something out of our league.”

  Sam nodded, “Yeah, I got the whole ‘no, because you’ll want to defend Hanna’.”

  Lucas’ lip lifted ever so slightly, almost into a grin, “Everyone wants to help Hanna.”

  Sam threw a pillow at him, “Whatever. Asshole. Speaking of which, how’s Dorian?”

  Lucas shook his head, “Worse, I think. He actually went to some vampire hideout in Brazil and killed everyone.” His sad eyes blinked away from the wall and looked at Sam, “Innocents and all.”

  Sam whistled, “Wow. Daniel and the tards have no idea how pissed off they have made him. Wanna go hunt his dad?”

  Sam’s eyes brightened, “Aleks’?”

  He nodded, “Lorri said no to Alaska, but not to Viking werewolf death.”

  “Yeah. I’ll go. Any clue on where to start?”

  Sam shook his head, “No, but I know where Aleks last lost the trail. It was in Virginia. Jonesville, Virginia.”

  Lucas stood and put his hand out, “Take us to Jonesville.”

  Sam pulled his phone out and Googled Jonesville. When the picture on the map came up, he flashed them to a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. Tumbleweeds rolled across the dusty road, as a wind picked up, making waves in the hayfield next to them.

  Lucas looked around, “Where the hell are we?”

  Sam shrugged and looked at his phone, “I’d say in hell, I don’t have any bars.”

  Lucas growled, “Is that a bison farm?”

  “Look dude, focus. We are in Hillbilly County, someone is going to shoot your hairy ass if you chase livestock.”

  “It’s hard to resist.”

  Sam rolled his eyes, “Okay, well maybe we can stop for a bison burger somewhere. I’m not eating it raw on the side of the road.”

  Lucas stripped his pants and shirt off and passed it to Sam. He phased instantly, sending shredded pieces of his white boxers throughout the air.

  Sam waved his hands in front of his face, “Luke. Gross. Your underwear is everywhere.”

  The huge, dark wolf made a funny noise, Sam could swear was a snicker.

  Lucas sniffed the ground and began running. Sam ran after him, flashing to keep up.

  Sam wondered how he had caught the scent so fast, but soon, even he could smell it. It wasn’t the wolf he smelled but Aleks. He ran as fast as his legs would allow as they walked their dead friend’s footsteps. His chest ached, thinking about the scent they chased.

  Chapter Three

  Ophelia

  She woke tired. She was a typical teenager. She liked to sleep till noon and stay up until two in the morning.

  The difference that morning was a combination of two things; the lingering hope that her parents had managed to believe she hadn’t actually broken the windows, and that everyone at school had forgotten she had broken the windows. She had fallen asleep praying no one would care or remember what she had done.

  She wasn’t even out of the sheets, when her door was thrown open and her sister walked in, “I need you to be nice to Jake today. I told him you like him and he almost lost his mind. He was pumped. Don’t emo on me, okay homie? Be the girl I know you are.”

  Ophelia buried her face in her pillow, “Oh my God, why do you have to exist?”

  “You've wished for Jake to like you since we were five and six. Today is your lucky day and he’s going to Lance’s party. So are you, by the way.”

  Terror filled her, "I can't go to school."

  "You have to. If you skip, you're going to look guilty."

  She looked at her reflection and shook her head, "No. I can't do it and I'm not going to that party with you and the plastics."

  "Ride or walk?"

  She sighed, "I'll walk. I need to get lost on the way and end up in New York City with a different name and a cool mustache."

  Abbey laughed, "Such a loser, drama queen." She grabbed her arm, "Come on, we'll ride together."

  At school she looked around at everyone from the sidewalk in front of the building. Everything looked the way it did every day. Nothing looked different. She waited for the stares and the pointing to start.

  She glared at her sister and waited for it to hit. She couldn’t believe Abbey had dragged her to school. She was strong for such a skinny thing.

  Ophelia walked up the stairs of the school, feeling embarrassment and pain in each step. She shied away from making eye contact. She would forever be the girl that gave Mr. Paulson a heart attack and nervous breakdown.

  “O, wait for me.”

  She frowned and looked back at Maria—mean girl Maria Thompson, running toward her waving her hands. She looked around for Mack and Naoms, but they were nowhere to be found. She was going to die alone and humiliated.

  She didn’t know what to do.

  She almost turtled when Maria reached her, but she saw something she hadn’t seen before. Maria smiled at her.

  “O, we’re having a party tonight, end of year party for all seniors. It’s at Lance’s parents’ place. They have a pool so bring a suit.”

  She stammered, “Uhhh what? N-n-no thanks.”

  Maria laughed, “You have to come. You never come to parties and school’s almost over. Please. Jake MacKay asked me to make sure you come.”

  O nodded, almost laughing, “Jake, Jake, Jake MacKay?” Her sister hadn’t been messing with her. She raised an eyebrow at Maria.

  Maria smacked her in the arm, “You’re being weird. See you at lunch.”

  "I’m being weird?’ she muttered and walked up the stairs feeling more scared than she ever had. She felt vulnerable, as if she’d shown up naked.

  She couldn’t go to the party. It was a set up. Abbey wasn’t a part of the evil plan. They were using her to get to Ophelia. She nodded to herself as she walked. The plastics hated her.

  People smiled at her, people she didn’t know. Guys winked. She felt her face start to sweat as she hurried to her locker. As she got the door open, she took a deep breath. Everyone was in on the plan.

  “O, can we talk for a second?”

  She looked up at the ceiling, “Seriously?” she muttered.

  She turned to f
ace Jake. She was certain he was the hottest quarterback in the history of football. He filled all of the space in front of her. His shoulders were each double the size of her entire body. She trembled, watching him look her up and own. His grin frightened her. He ran his hand through his dark-blond hair. His chiseled features made him impossible to look at. He almost glowed with perfection.

  He had it all—tanned skin, winning smile, perfect dark-blue eyes and six foot two, at least. She had seen him in swim class. She blushed, remembering what lie innocently beneath his black t-shirt and jeans. His body looked carved and unreal.

  “Hi.” she spoke abruptly, trying desperately to focus on anything but the memory of him in swimming trunks, his abs with droplets of water running down them.

  “Pretty crazy what happened yesterday, huh? No one really remembers what happened exactly. They said it was like lightning hit the window.”

  She shrugged, desperate to not talk about it, “I don’t know, maybe.”

  “Paulson’s out for the last few weeks and probably won’t be back next year. You rock. Marie said you might have a poltergeist from the Ouija board. Like Paranormal Activity and shit.”

  She nodded, “Oh.” She felt her breath freaking out like she had asthma.

  He licked his lips, “Can I pick you up at eight for the party at Lance’s?”

  She shook her head, “Oh uhm, no thanks.” Her forehead was sweating. She just wanted him to go away. She wiped her forehead with her sleeve, “I’m not going.”

  He put his hands on either side of her, backing her completely against the locker, “You have to go.”

  She nodded, hypnotized by his eyes, “I do.” Her words were a whisper.

  He nodded again, charming every inch of her, “I will pick you up at eight.”

  Her breathing had taken flight into the realm of uncontrollable, “You will pick me up.”

  He laughed and leaned into her. He feather-kissed her cheek. His plump lips pressed against her flushed, no-doubt sweaty, cheek. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t be certain, but she might have wet herself.

  He pushed himself off the locker, making a sound—a growl? She turned back to her locker, desperate to hold on to her emotions. She gripped the metal of the door for a microsecond and took long, soothing breaths.

  She closed her locker and walked to the bathroom as quickly as she could.

  “Uh hooker, was that Jake kissing you on the cheek?”

  She turned to see Mackenzie and Naomi following her in to the bathroom. They wore matching white, long-sleeve t-shirts with a dark face smeared on them.

  She scowled at them both and walked into the bathroom, “Where the hell have you two been? God, Maria tried to kill me with kindness, and everyone thinks I’m totally awesome for almost killing Paulson, and Jake just kissed me, and I think I'm being haunted by Emily Rose or her ghostly demons.”

  Mack sighed, “You weren’t answering the phone or texts last night, what do you expect from us?”

  She blushed, "Throwing rocks at my window?"

  She looked in the mirror at herself, her pale skin was flushed, making her face crimson. Her dark hair was matted with perspiration. She pulled an elastic from her pocket and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. The curly hair looked tame as she dragged the moisture back and across the top of her head to smooth the frizzies. She looked at her face again. She had always thought herself pretty, not beautiful but pretty. She had a flaw. A major one. One she actually liked about herself, her eyes were different colors. The right was a dark, almost black blue and the other was light blue.

  Mack pointed to her dark eye, “O, it looks angrier today.”

  "It's my nervous eye."

  Naoms laughed, "Dude, seriously though, we called like eighty times."

  She smiled at her best friends in the mirror, “I was hiding last night. My mom and dad are coming to meet with the principal. Everyone thinks I smashed the windows.”

  Naoms and Mack both had black bobs with too much dark eye makeup and dark lipstick. They had thin, white faces and thin, short bodies. The only difference between them was Mack’s huge breasts; they made fun of her for them. She was the stick with boobs. Everyone called them twins, even though they weren't related. Not even a little. They'd done the genealogy charts.

  “Tell us the truth, O. What happened?”

  She turned away from the mirror and shook her head, “I don’t know. I kept hearing those plastic beotches saying shit about me—like I moved the Ouija marker on purpose or that I was a crackhead. Then they said I was cutting myself and Abbey told everyone."

  "Sluts. That Ripley is a whore. She let the French teacher—"

  "—Okay gross. Dude, come on."

  Naoms blushed under her white, powdered face, "Sorry. Continue."

  Ophelia snickered, "Anyway, then I got hot and sweaty and I yelled at them, the windows all broke, and this wind blew through the classroom. The papers went everywhere. It was weird.”

  They grinned and spoke simultaneously, “Wicked.”

  She shook her head, “Not so wicked. The principal is pissed.”

  Naoms grinned, “We can be like that movie The Craft.”

  Ophelia sighed, “No. This is like a poltergeist from that stupid game. I’m haunted.”

  Naoms shook her head, "Think of the revenge you could get on Lacey and Ripley. Everyone would know the truth about them."

  Ophelia rolled her eyes, "Everyone knows the truth. Lacey got caught with her cousin at junior prom. Oh, and remember last year, when they faked those crank calls and the police traced the harassing calls back to Lacey's house. That was epic. And of course everyone knows the story about the French teacher and Ripley." She shivered.

  "So gross."

  "So gross."

  Ophelia smirked, "Anyway, today has been weirder than yesterday. Everyone is smiling at me and pretending I did an awesome thing. People I don’t know. Like I rock for no reason."

  Naoms looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted her bangs, "You do rock. We've been telling you this for years. You're just stupid."

  Ophelia stuck her tongue out.

  “Okay well hocus pocus, see you at lunch then and movie night?”

  She sighed, “Got invited to Lance’s by Jake. That’s why he was kissing me. He asked me out.”

  Their screams filled the small bathroom with echoes.

  “You have to go.”

  “Oh my God, get laid for all three of us. Can you tape it?”

  She laughed, “So disgusting.”

  “Okay, we'll see you at lunch, unless Jakey wants to show you his snakey in the handi washroom like all the other slutty seniors.”

  "Bring Lysol, I heard that's where the French teacher and Ripley have, uhm—well you know."

  She rolled her eyes at them as they left the bathroom, "You guys are sick."

  She turned and washed her face with cool water, to try to calm her nerves. She looked up at her reflection, as the water beads dripped from her face. Her thick lashes held water droplets, making her light-blue eye look sharp and outlined.

  Suddenly in the background she saw others. They looked like her. They floated without color in the mirror around her. She tried to focus her eyes on the water droplets. She tried to ignore the fact six other girls were in the mirror with her.

  She didn’t dry her face. She ran.

  She ran from the bathroom and down the hall. She ran to the front doors and then all the way home. She was losing her mind. She was dreaming. Her body was really in her bed, the day hadn’t really happened. It was a dream.

  She wheezed, running in her front door.

  ‘Don’t be scared of us.’

  The voice was outside of her head. She screamed and ran up the stairs to her room. She slammed the door and dove into her bed. She pulled the covers up and kicked her shoes off the side of the bed. She lay there shaking.

  She closed her eyes.

  She fell asleep, curled into a ball.

  Chapter F
our

  Sam

  He tried not to judge the wolf eating the deer, even if it was a baby. His mother’s people were kind vegans. They despised the injury of any being, especially baby animals. He couldn’t help his upbringing, anymore than Lucas could help his animal urges. The sirens had shunned his mother when he was a tiny baby. He had been raised with the Wiccans on an island in British Columbia until he let himself get captured by the American government. His mother had always believed in Wicca and the way of life they chose.

  He looked at Luke and wondered if they would find the trail again. They had lost it outside of a town called Portsmouth, on the border of New Hampshire and Maine.

  Lucas walked down to the river they had sat on the banks of, and phased back. He stood naked on the riverbank and dove in. The blood rose to the surface of the water, as it washed from him. Sam wrinkled his nose at him, as he surfaced and beamed, “Now that was a meal. I left some meat on the bones for you.”

  Sam tried not to heave, “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. You’ve had your muzzle over every inch of that poor creature.”

  Lucas rolled his eyes, “Pass my clothes, Nancy.”

  Sam, half tempted to toss them into the river, passed them to the edge of the water.

  Lucas dressed quickly, “My family is from a small town just upstate. I’ve lost the trail, but they will know if they’ve had a rogue wolf in their territory.”

  Sam nodded, “Okay.” He looked at his phone, still no word from Hanna. He pressed his lips together.

  “Want to go to her?”

  He looked up at the grin on Lucas’ face, “No. I just want her to tell me she’s okay. It’s easy for you, Aimee and Ari like each other. They both hate Hanna.”

  Lucas shrugged, “They don’t hate her, they dislike her. All supernatural girls dislike Hanna. Competition.” He winked at Sam.

  Sam growled, “She isn’t competition.”

  Lucas laughed mockingly, “I know, I know. You’ve convinced her to love only you, that doesn’t change the fact she’s a hot mess, dude.”

  Sam squared his shoulders at him, but Lucas stepped back with his hands up, “Whoa, dude—I get it. I smelled it on her, when I met her. Anyone who meets Hanna will agree she's a sweet girl. She’s also the scariest monster I’ve ever met, including Lorri.”