Prelude to a Witch, Amanda Lee [ebook reader web txt] 📗

of memory and hatred. My head felt light with the flashes I saw, my shoulders heavy with the weight of the horror. I kept digging.

“Bay!” Landon tried to jump over the barriers of the trap but Aunt Tillie stopped him with a wave of her hand, the magic knocking him sideways.

“She’s the only one who can go in there.” Aunt Tillie said. “The shades will kill you.”

“Get her out!” he demanded.

“Chill out,” Aunt Tillie ordered.

“Get her out!”

I heard the panic in his voice but was beyond helping him at the moment. I only had a short amount of time before the shades would escape.

“Tell me who your master is,” I ordered, staring hard into the shade’s eyes. There was nothing familiar about him and yet I couldn’t help feeling as if I should know him. “Someone started this chain of events. I want to know who.”

Defiance lit his eyes and he fought my magic.

“Give me something!” I poured more magic into him, probably more than was wise, and he began to fray.

“It’s too late,” he cackled maniacally as he dissipated. “You can’t hold us. You don’t have the strength.”

As frustrating as it was to admit, I had no choice but to release him. He was gone within a split-second, Sandy following close behind. Once they were gone, all I heard were whispers and gasps behind me … and the beating of my own heart.

“Son of a Goddess!” I viciously swore and kicked the nearest candle, ignoring the look of reproval from my mother. I found Landon studying me with a mixture of fury and sympathy. “Are you going to yell?”

He shook his head. “I kind of want to but I don’t think that will help.”

“Likely not,” I agreed. “Still, if you want to yell, I have it coming.”

He nodded in agreement and then crossed to me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his cheek on my forehead. “We’re going to fight about this eventually.”

“But not today.”

“Not today,” he agreed. “You don’t need any additional strain.”

He kissed my forehead, swaying as the area behind us exploded in uninhibited chatter. I tuned them out and focused on the sound of his heartbeat. Finally, one voice rose about the din.

“So … wine party?” Aunt Tillie asked.

Mom smiled at her. “You read my mind.”

And just like that the mood on the bluff shifted from bitter disappointment to relaxed amusement.

I cast one more look to where the shades had been trapped and then nodded at Landon’s unasked question.

“We might as well get drunk,” I conceded. “We don’t have anything else going for us right now.”

Landon slipped his arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. “We have each other.”

I smiled. “Forever and always, right?”

“Yup. Forever and always.”

23

Twenty-Three

“I’m dying.”

I kept the covers wrapped over my head the next morning, refusing to even peek out when I felt Landon rustling next to me.

“Me, too.” His voice sounded raspy.

I lay still and allowed my body to register the myriad complaints it would lodge over the upcoming hours. “My arm hurts,” I realized, finally pulling the covers down to take a look. I frowned at the bruise near my elbow. “Did I get in a fight last night?”

Landon chuckled. “I don’t believe so.” He rolled to look, his eyes going dark when he saw the mark. “Did the shades do that?”

“The shades didn’t lay a hand on me,” I reminded him.

“You laid a hand on them.”

“I did.”

“I don’t believe that was part of the plan.” His tone was accusatory.

“Landon, we had limited time.” I was in no mood for an argument. “I had to do what I had to do. As you can see, I’m fine.”

“You’re bruised,” he groused, gently taking my arm. “These look like fingerprints, as if somebody grabbed you.”

I let the memories of our drunken bluff post-seance party wash over me. “I think it was Thistle. Aunt Tillie was chasing her with promises of a bloating curse and she was trying to get away. I vaguely remember Thistle trying to hide behind me.”

Landon snorted and rolled to his back. “Now that you mention it, I remember that as well. I can’t believe she grabbed you that hard.”

“I’m a delicate flower. I bruise easily.”

“I know.” He slipped his arm under my waist and tugged until my head was on his shoulder. “I don’t like it.”

“I think you would be happiest if I was never hurt.”

“Yes.”

“This is just a minor thing.”

“The shades aren’t.” Now that we weren’t trapped in a haze of drunkenness thanks to Aunt Tillie’s wine, he was ready to voice his opinion on what happened the previous evening.

“I don’t like that you barreled into that circle, Bay.”

I had no patience, so my response was edgier than I would’ve liked. “What should I have done? They were going to escape. I had to make use of the time we had.”

“Let them escape.”

“We need to know why they’re here, who is controlling them, what their ultimate goal is. We need answers. I tried to get them.”

“Is it possible they’re not being controlled?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe they’re here of their own volition. Maybe they’re just in the mood to haunt us and we should be focused on eradicating them rather than hunting them.”

“That doesn’t feel right.”

“What does feel right? It seems the rules regarding shades vary. They’re not like Floyd.”

I shook my head. “Floyd was a poltergeist.”

“Which is fancy speak for a really angry ghost.”

“Pretty much. He was more powerful than a normal ghost, fueled by rage. Shades are fueled by darkness.” I ran my fingers over Landon’s bare chest. I didn’t even remember getting undressed for bed the previous evening. Looking around the bed, it was obvious we’d shed our clothes walking through the bedroom and just fell where we landed. That was also the power of Aunt Tillie’s wine. “Sandy Strawser was there last night,” I reminded him. “She was an evil woman. Her essence was coveted by someone to use as a weapon.”

“How can you be certain of that?”

I