Hexed

Hexed

A Matilda Kavanagh Novel

Smashwords Edition Copyright 2016

by Shauna Granger

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author.

Published by Shauna Granger

Copyright © 2017 by Shauna Granger

Cover art by Shauna Granger

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Chapter 1

There is something magical about forests. They breathe and move in a way that humans will never understand. The air is full of power, and the earth trembles with it.

Every tree I touched answered to the call of magic inside me. Every clover and wildflower bent in search of elusive sunlight, turning with the pull of the sun.

Foraging for herbs in the night, my path illuminated only by the moon as I breathed in the fresh air with dirt under my nails and leaves in my hair, I was in touch with my powers in a way I never was living in the city.

But I missed the city. I missed the noise, I missed the energy, I missed my friends.

Bark dug into my palms as I climbed an aged tree, carefully making my way to the clump of growing mistletoe. Mistletoe was difficult to come by in the city because it was so difficult to find. It grew by infesting host trees, so you had to search for it before it totally killed the tree.

My basket on the ground below me was full of almonds, dandelion roots, and angelica. Once I had the mistletoe, I could make my way back to the cabin where I’d been living—hiding—since the end of the Trials.

Something inside me had broken when the Trials ended. I had found some closure when Cassandra Morose was arrested for the murder of my parents, but Althea Courten had slipped from my grasp. She was being brought up on charges of fraud, blackmail, and collusion, but none of those would put to rest my parents’ spirits or my anger. Cassandra wasn’t alone to blame for their deaths, but without irrefutable proof that tied the former Grand High Witch of Los Angeles to their deaths, there was little I could do.

Thus, after the Trials, I was exhausted and needed some space. So I left the city and found Gran’s cottage in the woods.

It was exactly as I’d remembered it, warm and inviting like a hug. The wisteria had grown wild around the front and the roses were like weeds in the flower beds, so when I found it, it was a riot of color and petals, but I could see the widows and door through the mess. I made my way inside, and for one heart-stopping moment, I thought maybe I’d find Gran inside, waiting for me.

If Ronnie’s grandmother could still be alive, maybe mine could be too.

But she wasn’t.

The cottage was empty. And I knew it would be, but a tiny, five-year-old part of me hoped it wouldn’t be. I wouldn’t have even been mad to find her alive and living in secret. I would have just liked a hug from her.

The cottage didn’t look abandoned when I went inside. It looked as though the fire had just been banked and if I checked the oven, I’d find cookies just about ready to come out. Holly wreaths still hung on the doors, and homemade protection runes formed out of sticks and twine adorned the walls. I could see Gran sitting by the fire, carefully lashing the shapes together, telling me the meaning and importance of each one. I knew which one was for protection, which for luck, and which for peace.

Of course, eventually I saw the white sheets covering the furniture, coated in a layer of dust that made them grey, and the spell of the cottage wore off. The fireplace was stone cold and the water took ages to come back on when I turned the taps. The wreaths were dried, but the stick runes looked the same, so that was something—though they were in desperate need of recharging.

And once I got the fire going and the sheets removed, it felt like my second childhood home again. I could pretend Gran was outside, tending to her roses, and she’d be in to make me a cup of sweet tea and a plate of biscuits if I was patient enough.

And it was exactly what I needed to heal, to find my center, and refill my well. But it’s no longer enough. I was never meant to become a hermit. I need the energy of other people around me.

Ronnie and Joey and a few members of the Coven come to visit at the full moon for a fire and a dance, and the children in the nearby village sneak over and try to get a peek at the witch’s cottage, daring each other to touch the gate at the end of my walkway. Their laughter is sweet, but it’s not enough.

I need to go home.

Finally I reached the branch where the clump of mistletoe had infected the tree, and I managed to seat myself so I could pull out the knife strapped to my leg. One by one, I cut the branches of mistletoe, the vibrant fragrance tickling my nose, and sent them falling to the ground. They landed near enough to my basket so when I finished and carefully made my way down, I didn’t have to search all over for them.

With a full basket, I turned back toward the cabin. My stomach grumbled with hunger and images of bright white take-out containers danced through my mind, but there weren’t any Chinese restaurants for miles around, let alone one willing to deliver so far out. Of course, even if there was, that would give away my location and ruin the whole point of me being out there.

Yes, I needed time to heal, but it also seemed a good idea for me to lay low while Ronnie and her new council weeded out the corrupt witches and Althea-Cassandra cronies. We knew some wouldn’t take kindly to the new regime and might come after me. I wasn’t willing to move into the Coven quarters, and I wasn’t interested in having some bodyguard in my space twenty-four hours a day. So, into hiding I went until things calmed down.

At the back door, I stepped out of the Wellies I’d worn into the forest for my foraging, not wanting to track dirt into the freshly cleaned kitchen. With a satisfied grunt, I set my full basket on the counter and turned to pull off my coat. A letter on the low, round kitchen table fluttered as I walked by. It was from the Law Offices of Edwin Higashi, on official letterhead with rich ink. Since defending me in court and getting the Demon Magic charges dropped, Edwin had been in high demand and seen his name and status skyrocket.

The letter was a courtesy note telling me the start date of Cassandra’s trial. Ronnie had brought it over the last time she came for a visit. She’d also brought me a pizza—sadly only topped with veggies—and the news that it was probably as safe as it was ever going to be for me to come home if I wanted. And yes, I most definitely wanted.

I would be called to testify against Cassandra and offer my memories from the time of my parents’ death and my kidnapping as a teen and being held prisoner in that blasted crystal as evidence. I wasn’t looking forward to visiting those old ghosts, but I was looking forward to seeing justice served, so I would do it one last time. Normally memories were inadmissible in court, but since Cassandra was on tape admitting to the crimes, the prosecution had gotten the judge to agree to allow the memories—as long as I was also willing to take truth serum approved by the defense.

Pointlessly, I checked the fridge to see if there might be one last piece of pizza waiting for me, but sadly there was not. The fridge was a tiny rounded thing that was almost as old as the house, so it didn’t hold much. Which was what I’d told myself when I justified eating the rest of the pizza after Ronnie left. Now I was kicking my past self.

Prrrrrmrrrow. Artie unballed himself from the overstuffed recliner by the fireplace, where the embers glowed in shades of orange and red.

Hello, my love, I sang out to him from the kitchen as I pulled on my canvas gloves to work through the bounty in my basket.

The kitchen wasn’t much bigger than mine back at home, but there were no dividing walls, so it felt bigger and opened up to the living space. Against the adjoining wall was an ancient china hutch with glass doors through which the dozens of potted and bottled potions, tinctures, and elixirs could be seen. I’d been building a stockpile of inventory during my time away so that when I finally got home, my business would be up and running almost immediately.

Artemis sauntered into the kitchen, silently jumping from one kitchen chair to the kitchen table. He too looked and felt better for our time away. His black fur was darker and shinier, turning blue and green as he moved. His lamp-like eyes were brighter, like when he was a kitten so many years ago. His whiskers were thicker and twitched faster as he sniffed out food and cream, like the little hunter he used to be. But he was still my old man. His belly was still a little too round, his attitude still full of snark, and I loved him for it.

He jumped from the table to the edge of the counter where I stood, sorting through my finds.

There is nothing in here for you, I said, side-eyeing him as he dipped his head over the edge of the woven basket to give a sniff.

His whiskers touched the dandelion roots and just as quickly he pulled his head out, disappointment clear on his fuzzy, smushed face. Mrrrrr.

I know. I told you I was going for supplies, not food.

Artie’s tail twitched in time with his whiskers, telling me how disappointed he was with me.

Tch, I said, flicking my fingers at him, but there’s no answering zap of power because I would never zap my familiar.

He turned his nose up at me and jumped to the floor, sauntering over to the front door.

I glanced over my shoulder to watch him and felt the telltale tingling go through my bones as someone, or someones, crossed my barrier at the gate. Instinctively, I looked for a baseball bat that wasn’t there. It was miles away, back in my apartment in Newhaven. Old habits and all that.

Artie sniffed at the threshold but didn’t bolt away or hiss in warning. Instead he purred, and I knew who the visitors would be even before Ronnie lifted the locking spell on my door. She and Joey came inside.

Hey, old man, Joey said as she scooped up my familiar, pink and silver pixie dust landing in his black fur to look like tiny twinkling stars. She kicked the door closed with a light tap, and Ronnie reached around her to set the locking spell again.

Hello, hello, Ronnie said as she set her purse on one of the kitchen chairs before coming over to me. She touched my shoulder, and I turned to give her my cheek for a quick kiss. Successful night again.

Not bad, I agreed. Coffee?

Yes, Ronnie said as Joey said, Nah, I’m good.

I turned away from the basket as Joey went into the living space and draped her lithe body on the couch, letting Artie curl up on her stomach—though he was so fluffy and round that Joey’s middle practically disappeared under his curled body.

There wasn’t a modern coffee pot in the cottage, so I’d learned the fine art of pour-over brewing. Good thing I liked coffee so much because it took patience.

I have something for you, Ronnie said as she reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope for me.

My name was written in a quick scrawl where the address would go and in the corner was the professional stamp for Edwin’s office. What is it?

I didn’t open it, Ronnie said, her eyes going big at the idea that she would have read it without my permission.

I would’ve, I say with a shrug.

Thanks for the warning. She crinkled her nose at me as she walked over to the counter to finish making the coffee for us as I opened the envelope.

The envelope was thick cardstock, just like the paper inside. I marveled at it for a moment, still amazed by the things people with money would spend it on. I’d never imagined there were different types of envelopes, but this one, this one reminded me I’d been poor for a while.

The note inside was short and handwritten by Edwin, rather than neatly typed by his assistant like the last one.

What does it say? Ronnie asked.

He wants to see me because Cassandra wants to see me.

Joey’s pink-spiked head popped up as she sat up to look at me over the back of the couch. Her pink eyebrows were so high on her forehead, they disappeared under the fringe of bangs.

Cassandra wants to see you, Ronnie repeated, as if she were testing the words for herself.

What else does it say? Joey asked.

Just that I should go see him first. I turned the paper over and checked the envelope again, but that was it. Just two quick lines: Cassandra wants a meeting with you. But come see me first.

What do you suppose she wants? Ronnie asked as she brought me a cup of coffee pale with cream.

Joey stood, pouring Artie onto the couch, before she came over to the table to join us. The opening arguments for her trial are coming up soon. I bet she wants to try to work a deal.

What deal could she possibly work with me? I mean, I’m not the DA. I’m not the judge. I can’t do anything for her.

I dunno, Joey said. If you offer to drop the false imprisonment charges from when she trapped you in the crystal, that would help.

Psssh. I took a sip of coffee. I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed. Besides, I still can’t stand to be in small, dark places. No way in the seven hells am I’m dropping those charges. Let her rot in her own small, dark cell.

It said a lot that Ronnie didn’t argue for mercy.

Maybe she’s finally going to tell you what Althea has on her, Ronnie said over her cup. She wasn’t looking at either of us, so I knew she was lost in thought. Even her voice sounded a little distant.

Why wait until now?

Like Joey said; maybe she’s trying to cut a deal. Ronnie finally blinked and looked at me. I was waiting for her to explain that logic. Look, you’re one of the victims, right? And we all know Althea was the real person who ordered your parents’ deaths. Cass knows you want that information, so if she gives it to you, she probably thinks you can hold sway over the DA for the sentencing.

Tch. I shook my head.

But I knew she was right. The DA had already reached out to me through Edwin. They’d wanted to know if I wanted them to push for the death penalty or life in prison. It was the strangest phone call I’d ever gotten in my life. Yes, Cassandra had cast the spell that killed my parents, but to ask me whether or not someone should die was a little overwhelming.

So you’re not going to go? Joey asked.

Artemis made a rumbling noise as he jumped off the couch and walked over to me. He was silent until he jumped into my lap and settled there, then he purred. His aura slipped and slid around mine until our auras hummed in time with each other. I was calmed almost instantly.

Thanks, Artie, I whispered into his fur at the top of his head.

He lifted his chin and rubbed his face against mine.

I glanced at my friends waiting patiently for my answer. I mean, I want to go home anyway.

Ronnie nodded encouragingly. Joey was fighting back a smile, but pink spots appeared on her cheeks and I knew she was about to burst in a shower of glitter.

Besides, it’s been way too long since I’ve even seen my apartment. I really need to go home. I know the Coven’s been taking care of the rent, but I doubt anyone’s been in to dust or open a window.

Joey’s lavender eyes cut away from me as she became very interested in a spot on the ceiling. I stared at her, trying to will her to look at me, but Ronnie spoke, distracting me.

Speaking of the Coven, she said as she set her cup on the table, can we please talk about the Council?

There’s nothing to talk about.

Of course there is.

No, there’s not.

Mattie, you should be on the council, and you know it.

I don’t know it.

You were second place in the Trials, maybe should’ve been first, and if you had been, you would be the Grand High Witch right now.

You have no idea if you would have lost if we had battled. I was getting tired of this argument. We were both following the same script we always did.

Fine, Ronnie said, going off script and surprising me. But be that as it may, it is tradition that the runner-up, which is you, joins the council.

Traditions are not laws.

Mattie, don’t you even care how much good it would do if you were on the council?

How’s that?

Because you are wildly popular now, Ronnie said. If you joined the council, officially joining the Coven, you would help us show the community that the Coven has changed. That it’s not the same underhanded, blackmailing, power-hungry monster it was under Althea’s rule.

I think you’re giving me too much credit.

No, she’s not. Joey pulled out her phone and opened up my Facebook fan page and showed me the follower count. It was in the five-digits. Then her quick fingers switched to the other social media accounts she managed for me and flicked through the follower counts and the many, many notes of encouragement and love.

Whoa.

Right, Ronnie said. Clearly she’d already seen all of what Joey had to show me. See what I mean? We need to work on our reputation. We need better PR.

So I’m just a mascot or something?

I will take whatever you’re willing to give at this point. Ronnie’s eyebrows were so close together, a tiny V formed between them. I would like for you to be a full, contributing member of the council, but if you would at least agree to come down, make an appearance, and see what we’re doing before you make any decision, that would make me happy.

I’m just not interested in politics and deciding what people can and cannot do. I placed Artie on the table before I pushed away from it to stand. My cup was almost empty already, so a refill was as good an excuse as any to turn away from my friend who was really starting to get on my nerves.

Mattie.

The way she said my name, she almost sounded like her mother calling me Matilda when I was being a stubborn child. It sent a jolt up my spine and set my teeth on edge. But I didn’t give her the satisfaction of turning around. Joey made a noise, and I knew Ronnie’s tone of voice made her nervous.

May I remind you that I am in this position because of you?

Then I turned.

I am the Grand High Witch of Los Angeles because of a decision you made. On your own. Without talking to me about it.

Ronnie—

She held up her hand to silence me. No. You’re standing there saying you don’t want to tell people what to do, that it isn’t your place. Well, you’ve already done that, haven’t you? Now you owe me.

I owe you for making you one of the most important and powerful witches in the country? I wondered if my own eyebrows had disappeared under my bangs.

You had no idea if I wanted that. You decided for the both of us.

I opened my mouth to argue, to point out that she’s far better at the job than I ever would have been, that she could have quit the Trials before the end. But nothing came out. I just stood there with my mouth agape as if I’d been hit with a silencing spell.

And I would remind you that we all signed an agreement before the Trials. That agreement stated that if any one of us won, the rest of us agreed to help as a Circle, so that there wasn’t one ultimate leader, just a figurehead. Did you forget you signed that?

Ronnie was standing with her arms crossed and her chin down so that she glared at me across the small space, challenging me to argue with her. But I couldn’t; she was right.

Frogs! I threw my hands up and cursed the ceiling. Fine.

Good. And just like that, Ronnie sounded like herself again.

I stared at her, desperately wanting to give her a good shock. Fine. I got her attention before she turned away from me, triumphant in her victory. But I’m going home first, then I’m going to Fin’s and I’m getting a double bacon cheeseburger and gravy fries.

Ronnie made a face but managed to keep her mouth shut.

Chapter 2

Leaving the cottage and forest was bittersweet. I was excited to go home, to feel the buzz of the city around me, but I was leaving my grandmother’s spirit and a quiet place of peace that had helped heal me.

When I closed the gate behind me, I whispered a barrier spell to keep it protected and safe from evil influences and to keep out the mischievous village children. I didn’t want to take the chance that one day one of them would be brave enough to cross through the gate and do something stupid inside while I was gone.

Ronnie’s new car was an impressive, dark, and sleek thing that was probably more expensive than my grandmother’s cottage. The seats were soft and firm at the same time, and the dashboard illuminated the interior without being harsh on the eyes. As we drove over the country roads and switched to the freeways, I couldn’t tell the difference because it was so smooth. I guessed being Grand High Witch does come with some perks—figurehead or not.

Artie was curled into a ball on the backseat next to Joey, taking a whole seat for himself. I could hear his purring over the hum of the engine, and it was a sweet sound.