Mathilda, SuperWitch (21 page)

I whimpered with pain, too lost in it to be humiliated by the fact that I hadn’t even raised a wand to her. I wished with everything I had that Aidan both could and couldn’t get those doors open. I needed help, oh goddess, I needed help. But she might be able to make mincemeat of him just as she was making mincemeat of me.

With effort, I pulled up my head and looked to see she was studying me with what seemed like little interest, as little as she showed me in the Swank Italian Place. As if this was some kind of unwelcome duty she had to perform, like the dishes.

This bitch was ice cold.

How on earth could she be a witch?

“
I don’t think you understand,” she went on. “I don’t think you
appreciate
the history of witches, my dear.”

I heard a noise and looked over at Rory. He was crying like me, gagging against his guard’s arm which had tightened against his throat.

“Do let up, Robert, we don’t need the boy anymore,” Agatha said to her lackey.

The man let Rory go and he dropped to his knees too, his eyes wild.

“But!” Darling snapped, both wands swishing through the air like whips as she turned her attention to Rory. “I don’t want to hear a thing from you.”

Rory went totally still, staring at her in petrified silence as she turned again to me.

I hated her.

Goddess, I hated her like I’ve never hated anyone.

In fact, I’m not sure I’d ever felt the emotion before because it was nothing like I was feeling then.

“
This ‘Witches Dozen’ business. It won’t do,” she informed me. “The Prophesies said you’d be… well, obviously… ” She gestured with her wand taking in all that was me. “And they weren’t wrong. But I never thought… never
dreamed
that Mavis would allow it. That you would herald the beginning of the end of Our World.”

She was quiet and I was up again, on my knees, staring at her. It took everything I could to get in that position and I was scared out of my wits but when she didn’t continue, I ventured a question.

“Your World?”

“
Not my World, dear,
Our
World. The World of Witches. You are familiar with it, are you not?”

“Uh… ” Was this a trick question? “Yes.”

“
Well, the way it is now, we know what we can do and they don’t.” She gestured to one of the men who didn’t seem bothered by her in the slightest (bewitched?). “What they don’t know
will
hurt them and that has always given us the upper hand.”

I was still lost and, even through all the tears and slobber, I must have looked it.

“Oh dear,” she sighed like I was the most simple creature she’d ever come across, “I see I’m going to have explain.”

Then, she looked at her watch.

What?

She had better things to do?

More people to torture?

More children to kidnap?

More weird lectures to give?

I wish I’d had the courage to say any of that but I just knelt in front of her.

The Chosen One.

Me.

On my knees.

She kept explaining. “If they don’t know what kind of powers we have, they fear them. If they fear them, we keep them… these…” She swished her wand about in a bored way again, indicating the men, “creatures, in check. You can’t go about being a witch, out in the open, and show them everything. You’ll give away our best defense.”

“Maybe if they knew, if they understood what we were about, they wouldn’t fear us so much.” I tried. “They wouldn’t –”

Blast!

Me and my mouth.

Another bolt of lightning.

More crying, more snot, more slobber.

Thankfully still no vomit.

But now, I was getting pissed.

I mean, is this all really about tradition?

Scaring the pants off Rory, panicking Josie, blasting me with fucking lightning?

Is it really just about her wanting things to stay the same?

I mean, that’s boring.

Where’s the plot in that?

Where was the foul, twisted reasoning behind the treachery? Something worthwhile, something you could sink your teeth into, something juicy.

A spurned love – that’s got passion.

She’s doing it for money – that smacks of greed.

Maybe even envy, I make a better brownie than her or something.

Something sinful, something meaty, something nasty.

This wasn’t worth lightning, for goddess’s sake!

She was going on and on, not ranting but just explaining, as if to a very small child.

Rory had gotten himself to his feet. The man behind him was sorta glazed over like he’d heard this all before. The guy behind Darling wasn’t looking too attentive either. I didn’t dare glance at the other one.

My chest hurt like nothing I’d ever known before.

I couldn’t hear Aidan behind the door anymore.

I was alone.

I knew I couldn’t go for my wand.

And I knew I didn’t have a whole lot left in me to do much without my wee twig.

But I also knew that I was The Chosen One.

And I was a Glamour Girl.

And Rory needed me and I’d vowed to keep him safe.

And even though Darling had just looked at me like I’d worn sequins to a funeral, I knew I had style.

So fuck…
her.

I had to do something.

I’d screamed all girlie-pathetic in the car with Ash – no way was I going to let the side down now.

Not for something as stupid as
tradition
.

I mean, I could get into turkey and stuffing and pumpkin pie, all family get-together, thankful for blessings type of tradition, but this? Telling someone how to live their life because you don’t agree?

Fuck that.

So, even if here endeth my chapter in
History of Great Wytch Families
, I was going for it.

* * * * *

I’d seen enough movies to know how it was done.

I didn’t even bother with Darling.

Darling was another day.

In all the good movies, during the first run-in with the bad guy, the bad guy always got away.

And anyway, the bitch had lightning.

So I took whatever I had left, visualized it in my fist and ducked, rolled, came up and threw it with everything I had like a baseball straight at the dude behind Rory.

Unbelievably, it came out of my hand like the kickass sphere of magic that it was.

It wasn’t bright, white-hot lightning and it wasn’t hot pink either.

It was glowing, neon fuchsia pink-purple with gorgeous electric blue sparks flying hither and thither.

It hit him; he went back, his neck snapping his head forward, he slammed against the cinder block wall and then he went down… hard.

Ha!

“Run!” I shouted to Rory and then ducked, rolled and lobbed another one at the dude behind Darling.

At that point, the doors were kicked through and all hell broke loose.

Aidan was there, coming to my rescue!

But so was Ash!

Yee ha!

I didn’t hesitate, my third ball ‘o vengeance was lacking some of the brilliance in the electric blue department but it didn’t matter, the third guy went down too.

Ha ha!

I ducked and rolled again and missed getting hit by lightning by a hairbreadth.

“Tedious,” Darling muttered as I stood up and she tried to hit me with lightning again, ignoring the men and furniture flying about the room.

This time, though, I prayed to my tree with every fiber of my being then waved my arm across my front, visualizing a shield going up. There it went, a pink-purple forcefield with blue sparks flashed out momentarily in front of me, deflecting the bolt which veered to my left without harming me.

Yee ha!

I saw Ash hesitate while lifting a squirming bad guy to take in what I’d just done before he sent the baddie smashing through the (wired glass!) window.

Aidan was slamming his fist into another guy’s nose.

Rory was crawling across the floor to the doors.

Thankfully, the kids in the other room were long gone.

Duck, roll, (whimper a little at the searing pain in chest) and then land a ball of magic, hitting Rory in the back, it exploded and rained hot
and
shell pink pixie dust with silver sparks up and over him.

I allowed myself a short sigh of relief. That last sphere was protection for Rory. (I hoped.)

The woman with the great boots appeared in the doorway. She took one look at the scene and without a word, grabbed Rory and disappeared.

Darling didn’t look bored anymore, she actually stood.

“My, my, Mavis has been busy –”

I didn’t let her finish, I didn’t give a flying fuck what she had to say.

I lifted my arm and, Spidey-style, flicked her with some of my brightly hued sparks.

She waved it away like I had with my forcefield and then we were off, me ducking and rolling and throwing orbs of magic while she slapped back with lightning.

Then, with a loud crack, what was left of the doors went flying off their hinges. Viv and Su came charging in, great waves of Viv’s glittery turquoise sparkles met with Su’s lustrous, grape-colored dust as I sent another sphere of neon across the room.

* * * * *

And that’s it.

Darling was driven back by Viv, Su and I, disappearing in a sparkling array that camouflaged her for long enough for her to get away.

The men were left as they were, battered and unconscious.

As we all stumbled out (well, it was only me stumbling, everyone else was walking with both Aidan and Ash helping me), the local woman stood with Rory at the front door to the Centre. She was smoking a fag and looking like nothing surprised her.

Rory ran and threw himself at me. I winced and whimpered and put my arms around my boy as I caught the woman’s eye.

“Al’right?” she asked.

I answered the only way I knew how.

“All right.”

Then I passed out.

* * * * *

Drained, messy with snot, tears and slobber, mortified (not only at the ass-kicking I was given but at the snot, tears and slobber that both Ash and Aidan were seeing), magicked out through body conjuring rather than using my wand and burned to shit by lightning (actual blistered, ugly burns and bruises), I was out like a light.

And you know the rest. I woke up in Ash’s arms.

So, like I said.

It has begun.

20 April

Middle of the night, my eyes opened.

I felt them coming before I could see them.

Oh well.

Here we go.

I rolled out of bed, thought “black dragon” and grabbed my wand.

I looked at the clock: two a.m.

Couldn’t they come at a decent hour, for goddess’s sake?

* * * * *

My chest was better. Not great: blisters going away, bruising turning that ugly green with hints of yellow. I won’t be wearing cleavage anytime soon, but not so painful as before.

Anyhoo.

* * * * *

I looked out the window and there they were, silhouetted against the almost-full moon – three of them, pointy hats, ragged skirts, broomsticks and all.

The Witches Council: the hag, the lady and the maiden.

I tucked my wand in the back waistband of my new pajama bottoms (post-duel-with-baddie-get-well-soon gift from Mom with pink and chocolate paisley swirls – lush).

I started down the back stairway only to hear someone coming up. I saw the glint of a flashlight but couldn’t see who held it.

I was nowhere near recovered – magic-wise. The last time I checked, I’d drained the source dry during the duel (yesterday, I was trying to conjure a hot fudge sundae once I’d gotten out all the ingredients and was too tired to finish the job manually but I just managed to explode the cocoa box and get chocolate dust everywhere).

Nevertheless, I shot a warning pulse of shell pink and silver pixie dust (don’t know when my magic became all vivid but I dig it).

It illuminated Ash.

“Don’t waste it,” he ordered.

He’s so damn bossy.

Aside: not feeling the Ash Love right now – in
any
way – which could be why I’m not feeling the Ash Love.