You Say Witch Like It's a Bad Thing by Claire Nicola

Author:Claire, Nicola [Claire, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal, Vampires
Amazon: B09ZH91C6N
Goodreads: 61079274
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-05-12T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter fourteen

A Hunt Incomplete

Iris

The witch had her back to me. I watched from the edge of the cemetery as she tested Highwic's wards one by one. Each time a ward was tested, the magical protection surged and sparked along the length of its border, then settled again without breaking. I was inordinately pleased to see that the house had recovered from whatever had happened to lower the wards in the first place. They felt strong and unbreakable again, but I now knew that wasn't the case.

This witch, though, wasn't as powerful as whatever it was Melba had faced.

I stepped out of the protection of the oak tree canopy and walked toward the witch, not bothering to hide my approach.

She didn't even turn around to look at me. I couldn't decide, right then, if that meant she was here on a friendly mission and didn't see me as a threat, or she simply dismissed my presence altogether because she was the more powerful witch. I didn't recognise her, but I hadn't seen her face yet. She was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, with scuffed ankle boots on her feet. On her belt, I could see pouches for herbs and crystals, a sheath housing a bejewelled athame, and her wand, of all things, visible on a hook.

I noted then that she wasn't using the wand to test the wards on the house, which either meant she thought she didn't need it or she wasn't really trying yet.

"Hello?" I called as I approached. "Can I help you?"

"Of that, I am certain," she said, her accent making the words sound clipped. I cocked my head to the side and tried to work out where she was from. Just because she had an accent, though, didn't mean she wasn't a New Zealand witch now and one of the Council.

"Are you here from the Council?" I asked. "I would have left a message, but no one answered the call."

She turned around, then, her blonde brow arched. "Yes, the Council," she said. It sounded more like zee Council. "They sent me."

A soft mewl met my ears and I felt my furry stalking friend curl its mangy body around my right leg.

"Your familiar?" the witch asked.

"No," I shook my head. "Just a stray. I don't have a familiar yet."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a mistake. My subconscious had clearly cottoned on to a threat I hadn't yet perceived because my stomach tied itself in knots and I was suddenly glad for the cat's company. Which was weird, because the cat was flea-bitten and the last thing I wanted cuddling up to me ordinarily.

I licked my lips and widened my stance. The witch noticed, of course. I was getting the feeling that this witch in her scuffed boots and blatantly displayed tools of the trade was a battle witch. Only that type of witch would flout the rules that kept us safe so freely. They laughed at the genetic memory all of our kind had regarding the witch trials.

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