The line went dead after a pause and the phone slipped out of my hand. I wouldn’t have been able to reply even if someone had kept the line open, but they hadn’t.
As my consciousness started to slip I could have sworn I could hear someone calling my name, but I couldn’t turn around to look even if I wanted to. I was weak, cold, and shaking. The light from the fire still burning nearby was mesmerizing and I felt myself drawn to it; drawn to light, to warmth, and to life.
To life.
Life.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
I dreamt I was a Raven soaring above town, darting through thin grey clouds with the wind in my feathers and a song in my heart; a song of longing. Alone, I searched for my sisters, cawing into the nothingness around me until, finally the clouds broke, apart and the sun shone through. There, bathed in sunlight, were the other Ravens; and they were waiting for me.
I joined the constable and glided alongside the leader. She turned her oddly human eye at me and cawed, but the sound snapped me up from the jaws of oblivion and grounded me once more into the waking world. I blinked and struggled to make out the shapes in front of me. Breathing was pain.
Movement was worse.
Someone rushed to me and a warm hand caressed my cheek. “Amber,” the voice said, “Can you hear me?”
I groaned.
“That usually means yes!” It was Eliza!
I tried to speak but coughing to clear my throat was way worse than breathing or even moving. Eliza offered me a glass of water and I drank deep. When I could speak, I said “Where am I?”
“In the hospital,” she said. Eliza took my hand from the side of the bed. “You worried me half to death.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll let you know beforehand the next time some asshole is going to try and kill me.”
She brought my hand to her lips and kissed it. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“What… happened?” I asked.
“We got him,” Damien said. I didn’t even know he was in the room until he spoke, but his floppy hair was a welcome sight. “The Deputy pieced everything together. He’s smarter than he looks.”
“Wait, what does that mean?” I asked.
Damien glanced at Eliza. “It means the Sheriff has been charged with the recent murders in Raven’s Glen. Lily, Joanna, they can both rest now.”
The dream I had just experienced made sense, then. Lily was the Raven, and I had just seen her find Joanna. The thought filled me with a comfortable warmth and contentment I had never known until then, and would never forget—even if it saddened me a little that I would never see that Raven again.
“So… Eliza… you know?” I asked.
“It’s okay,” Eliza said, planting a kiss on my forehead, “I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“Eliza is the reason why I found you,” Damien said. “She came to see you at the station and when the Deputy noticed you and the Sheriff were both gone—”
“I convinced the Deputy that Damien would know where you were,” Eliza continued. “I bailed him out, Damien went all clairvoyant, described the place, and I knew where you were.”
“You… went clairvoyant?” I asked.
Damien cocked an eyebrow. “I had a good teacher.”
“Thank you both,” I said, smiling. “You guys saved my life.”
“You focus on resting,” Eliza said, “Let me go get you something to eat. The knife didn’t hit anything vital but you need your energy. You’ve been through so much.”
I had no reason to argue with her, so I nodded and let her go but Damien chose to stay.
“What does she know?” I asked.
“Everything, I guess.”
I sighed to myself, resting my head against the pillow. “I wish there had been another way. I didn’t want to drag her into this.”
“I trust her when she says she won’t tell anyone.”
“What about Aaron?” I asked, remembering that Aaron had been in the jail too.
“I don’t know. I haven’t been back to the station.”
I drew another painful gulp of water and nodded.
“I thought we were going to lose you,” Damien said.
“I’m still here.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing happened for a time. Finally, he said, “I’m leaving Natalie… to be with you.”
“Damien,” I said.
“No… I can’t just pretend like I don’t have feelings for you, Amber. When I saw you lying there on the ground, when I carried you to the Deputy’s car, the thought of losing you hurt more than anything I had ever felt.”
“But… what about Natalie? You’ve been with her for a long time. You’re going to break her heart.”
“I know you’re only fighting because you think you’re telling me to do the right thing.” He took my hand. “But being with you is the right thing.”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t fight. Our future was still nebulous, but Damien kept my hand held in his and stayed with me during my recovery which, thanks to modern medicine and a little Magick, was swift and easy. I would have a few more scars on my body after it was all done, but someone once told me I looked pretty badass with a busted lip.
I wondered what he would think when he saw the scars.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
On the day I was discharged there was only one thing I wanted to do. I had a big apology to make and so I decided to go straight to Aaron’s place and talk to him. Making it through the ordeal had put color in my cheeks—which was ironic considering the amount of blood I had lost—and a spring in my step. So I arrived at Aaron’s apartment smiling, with a box full of warm, freshly made hazelnut cupcakes in my hands.
Aaron answered wearing a form flattering black vest, grey sweat pants and a pair of trainers. “Amber,” he said, surprised to find me at his door again.
“Going to the gym?” I asked.
“A run… come in.”
He stepped aside to let me in and I swept into his house, placing the cupcakes on his kitchen counter.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m okay. The pain doesn’t bother me so much anymore.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I smiled. “The psychological trauma everyone’s so worried about? Don’t worry. I’ll get over it,” I said.
Aaron nodded. “You’re a tough cookie.”
I smiled and approached. “I know you came to see me,” I said.
He kept his mouth shut turned his head away from me. “Who told you?” he asked.
“Who do you think? She’s about yay tall, has black hair, and ice blue eyes.”
Aaron nodded.
“Why did you come, though?” I asked.
“Why not?”
“Aaron, look at me,” I said, turning his face toward mine. “Why did you come to the hospital to take care of me?”
“Because that’s what I do,” he said, “I take care of you.”
I sat on the side of the kitchen counter, close to him, and stared at my knees. “For so long you tried to make me believe you didn’t care. I was just… nothing to you.”
“Amber—”
“Let me finish,” I said. “I really did think that was all I was to you. That’s why I always kept you at arm’s length. It was a defense mechanism. I didn’t want you to hurt me.”
“Did you always think I would hurt you?”
“I did,” I said, giving him my eyes again.
“You only kept me away to protect yourself. You can’t be blamed for that.”
“I used you, Aaron. You had feelings for me this whole time and I used you.”
“That’s behind us now.”
“You’re right,” I said, sternly. “Because I can’t use you anymore. I won’t.”
“You don’t have to. You know how I feel now. Things can be different between us.”
“Aaron,” I said, stopping him, “I don’t—”
“Amber, I’ve wanted more with y
ou for a while. I was happy to take what you gave me but I wanted more. I was always working towards it.”
“How?” I asked, “We’re so different. How could it have worked?”
“I don’t know. But we’re great together. Aren’t we?”
My heart was breaking. All along I was scared that he would be the one to hurt me and now I was hurting him. It frustrated me that he couldn’t even see what was happening right in front of him.
“We can’t do this anymore,” I finally said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“This. Us. We can’t do this. It has to stop. Everything.”
“What?” His eyes darted from one side of my face to the other. “Why?”
“Because. I’m sorry, Aaron. We just can’t be together in that way.”
I could hear the tick-tock of the clock on the wall and cars whizzing past outside, but Aaron remained motionless and completely quiet. It felt like he hadn’t said anything in minutes until, finally, he spoke again.
“Then we can’t be friends anymore,” he said.
“Aaron, I want us to be friends.”
“If I have to look at you every time and see you with him… I don’t know how I would be able to contain myself. You can’t put me through that.”
“Damien and I are just friends too,” I said, remembering full well what Damien’s intentions were.
“Bullshit,” he said, “I know you’ve already slept with him. I’m more perceptive than you give me credit for.”
I swallowed and looked away, then nodded. “Alright,” I said. “Keep the cupcakes,” I added as I headed for the door.
I didn’t fight him then. Life for Aaron away from me, away from the True Witch and her drama, would be better this way. Aaron didn’t deserve to be caught up in a world he didn’t understand, or belong in.
I knew that, somewhere deep inside, a good guy lived inside of Aaron. I had experienced this goodness for a few days and couldn’t say I hadn’t enjoyed it. He was going to make some lucky girl very happy one day. But I wasn’t totally out of the water yet, and couldn’t take the responsibility of having to look after him and lie to him while I figured out who was pulling the Sheriff’s strings.
I didn’t know who that woman on the phone was, but I knew she heard my message.
Whether that would deter her or just piss her off, only time would tell.
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Thanks for reading True Witch! This was my debut novel, written and published originally in 2014, when I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I decided in 2017 to remaster this series with new covers and a fresh bit of editing, simply because my readers really seemed to enjoy them, and I felt like the series deserved a touch up. What you’ve just read is largely not much different from the original novel, which was then titled Midnight Magick. In its time, that book alone earned over 250 reviews, most of them between 4-5 stars, so the people who read the book and the series enjoyed it.
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www.katerinamartinez.com
Damien, Frank and I were sitting around a cauldron on a cold December night. Between the three of us we had hoisted it all the way into my attic, jammed it through the opening as best we could, and were getting ready to call down a spirit known as the Dagda. So not only were there three witches sitting around a huge iron pot, but we were also flanked on all sides by candles, crystals, and bowls filled with herbs.
Could the scene have been more cliché? Yes, it totally could have.
For starters, we could have had a black cat running around in the attic with us. There could have been straw brooms floating along the floor, autonomously sweeping the dust that seemed to never to want to leave my attic. Or we could have all been wearing black hats—the tall pointy hats. But there was no cat, no brooms, and unfortunately no hats.
At least, Damien and I weren’t wearing hats. But Frank was. It a little blue and white sailor’s hat he had chosen to wear along with a pair of colourful leggings and a plain black vest. The sight of him, with his square face, messy silver hair, and a hat clearly intended to be worn by a child, was pretty mortifying, like seeing a duck resting on the head of an alligator. But I had come to love his weirdness and embrace it much as I had my own.
Damien crawled over to the side of the room and lit a stick of cinnamon incense while I lit the pine and cedar. In moments, the three scents intermingled and infused the room with a warm, woody smell; like cookies baking on a tray over a crackling fireplace. I leant into the aroma, closed my eyes, and smiled.
"I love this time of year," I said, "There's a whole foot of snow outside and the three of us are in here, warm and cozy."
"Don't get too comfortable," Frank said, "We're invoking the Dagda tonight so we’d better be at attention. He's a big deal."
Frank wasn't kidding. I had learned a lot about the Spiritual side of Magick from him in the last few months since we met. It was one of his passions, he had told me, to learn about the invisible forces living in our universe and figure out how they may have informed the myths of yore. I soon learned that the strange witch was a veritable encyclopedia, if encyclopedias could go to clubs and wield Magick.
"So, okay, how do we do this?" I asked.
"Hands," Frank said, like a surgeon requesting a scalpel.
The ritual was Frank's idea. I had a cursory knowledge of the Dagda, but it was Frank who decided to lead this ritual. Neither of us had ever attempted something like this before, but the sailor hat wearing witch seemed pretty confident he knew what he was doing. So Damien and I complied, and the three of us joined around the iron cauldron. It had to be made of iron "for authenticity's sake" Frank had said. But it meant the thing weighed a shit-ton.
My arms hadn't yet stopped aching from the effort it took to hoist it up.
I wanted to use Magick and just wish it into the attic, but Frank and Damien had scolded me for being reckless. I didn't think I was being unreasonable, though. What good was telekinesis if you weren’t allowed to move things around with your mind whenever you wanted to? Unreachable itches would be a thing of the past, for one. As would be getting up and walking over to bookshelf to pick up, or put back, a book.
But no. No telekinesis for Amber Lee.
"Close your eyes," Frank said. "Clear your heads. Let the incense fill your nose…. and… all that bullshit."
I did as Frank said and closed my eyes. I had meditated a thousand times, so this part wasn't difficult for me. It would always start the same way. All around me was water, and I was a little ship. The waves would lick at my hull, and I would listen to the gentle lapping sound until my mind began to float. Once I had started to float, I would be able to tell my invisible body where to go; higher into the astral Nether--that place where invisible things live--or lower into the self, into the deepest reaches of my psyche.
I never went lower.
Frank cleared his throat and started to speak. "We call to you, Dagda, father of Brigid. High King of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Hear us."
"Hear us," Damien and I repea
ted.
"Dagda," Frank continued, "Oh great Earth-God, we ask you to lend us your Undry so that we might be satisfied on this night. Hear us."
Once again, Damien and I repeated "Hear us."
Silence.
Besides the tingle of excitement I couldn't feel anything else happening. I had learned to identify when the Power flowed through me. It was like an electric current--no, a surge of electricity—and it surrounded and filled me. It didn't make my hairs stand on end, but it touched my insides, snaked in and out of every pore in my body, and left me feeling giddy and high after.
The Power hadn’t come.
"I don't feel anything," I said, opening my eyes.
"Fuck," Frank said. "I knew I should have brought a harp."
"A harp," Damien said, cocking an eyebrow. "You wanted to get a harp in here too?"
"The Dagda played a harp. We could have done with a harp."
"And where were we supposed to get a harp from?"
"I don't know... we could have broken into a school?"
"A school..."
"Absolutely. We would have brought it back, of course."
"Sure."
I knew Frank was joking, but Damien hadn't yet adjusted to Frank's brand of sarcasm. I stifled a giggle at the thought of a gaunt man like Frank sneaking around a school wearing his sailor's hat and lugging around a huge harp. They wouldn't know what to make of him! I didn’t think anyone in Raven’s Glen was quite as flamboyant as he.
"Okay, we aren't getting a harp," I said, closing the discussion. "What do you think we did wrong?"
"Maybe the Dagda isn't home?" Damien offered.
"Oh, now he cracks a joke," Frank said, scoffing.
"How about a rhyme?" I asked.
"Actually, that could work," Frank said.
"A rhyme?" Damien asked.
To answer Damien's question, I recited a part of the Wiccan Rede. "To bind the spell well every time, let the spell be said in rhyme."
"I hadn't thought about that," Frank said, "I'm not used to using Magick with other people. It's like sharing a needle. I just don't do it... unless I'm out of needles or the guy is really, really cute."