Chapter 4
TUCKED UNDER NICO’S ARM, Isidore enjoyed the heat his body emitted in the cold spring air as they walked down the dirt road to the community center of Bellwood Park. They hadn’t said a word since leaving the cabin.
“How do you know the bride and groom?” she asked, unable to stand the silence any longer. It had only been five minutes, but the owl hooting in the background was making her want to run for the mountains.
“I trained to be an officer with James, the groom. I haven’t met his bride, Helen, yet.”
The second she stepped into the room, a couple dozen wolves turned their heads, noses in the air, taking a good whiff of her witch scent, whatever that was.
“Do I really smell that bad?” she whispered.
“Not at all.” He leaned over, kissing her temple, letting his lips linger against her skin. “You smell like fresh vanilla beans with a dash of coconut.”
“Then why is everyone looking at me like I have cooties?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“Please,” she said, turning to face him, wishing she hadn’t when their eyes met like star-crossed lovers under the moonlight in the middle of a cold waterway filled with icebergs.
“Most witches smell like a combination of pine and mouthwash. It’s not unpleasant, per se, but it’s not attractive.”
“So, why do you think I smell different?” She wondered if maybe it had to do with her potion to protect her from her father finding her until she was ready.
“You’re not a pure witch. Somewhere in your heritage is another creature.”
“That’s bullshit,” she said as he tugged her across the room toward a man waving frantically. “You’re teasing me.”
“Actually, I’m not. But everyone here fears your witch side, not your fairy side.”
“What the fuck?” She stopped in the middle of the room, staring at him, though all she saw was a blur of her past rushing through her mind. Her mother. Her dear, sweet mother who had been beaten into submission and then driven to suicide. “That’s not even remotely funny.”
“I know. When I first picked up your scent, you had that piney smell, but the longer I’m around you, the more it changes.”
She didn’t have time to respond as his buddy practically shoved her out of the way to give him a manly hug.
“I didn’t think you’d make it,” James said with a wide smile. “I’ve been dying for you to meet Helen.” He looped an arm around a tall blonde with orange eyes with tiny sparkles glittering like freckles.
Nico kissed Helen’s hand. “The pleasure is all mine.” He took a step back. “I’d like you to meet Isidore.”
Helen leaned in, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, but James looked her up and down with a scrutinizing glare. She couldn’t blame him. If the tables were turned, she’d do the same thing.
“Why don’t you boys go get us ladies a couple of drinks,” Helen said, waving her hand in the direction of the bar, as if to shoo James and Nico away.
“What do you want?” Nico asked, giving her hand a good squeeze.
She didn’t know if that was a warning not to go anywhere, or a gesture of affection.
“Bourbon on the rocks.”
“You are a woman after my own heart.” Nico patted his chest. “We’ll be back shortly.”
Isidore followed Helen to a small table off in the far corner of the room, trying to avoid the stares of everyone around her.
There were wolves, shape shifters, a couple of sulkies, and Helen, a fairy.
Isidore didn’t exactly know how she knew what Helen was, since she’d never encountered one. However, Helen did have a vanilla odor, but that could have been someone’s perfume, or Isidore’s imagination.
Like hearing Nico tell her she wasn’t a full witch.
And a fairy.
Hogwash.
“Congratulations.” Isidore took a seat with her back to the wall, eyeing the room. Many guests went about their business, but they also constantly glanced her direction. She opted to focus on Nico, who stood near the bar with James. “You must be very excited.”
“Honestly, I can’t wait for it to be over, and we can just get on with our lives.” Helen tucked a piece of blonde hair behind her ear with a delicate touch. Her French manicure dazzled in the LED lighting.
Isidore suddenly became very aware that she not only stuck out as the only witch, but her attire didn’t fit in either, unless she was standing next to Nico or at a heavy metal concert.
She’d never cared before what people thought since she was an outcast with her own people, but this felt different, and she couldn’t explain it.
“So, how long have you and Nico been together?”
“We just met.” Isidore chewed on her thumbnail. She’d given Nico too much information about herself and her situation, and she wondered what he and his buddy were discussing across the room. She had half a mind to excuse herself to the ladies’ room, cast a quick spell so she could listen in, but she figured Helen was the kind of girl that would be all like oh, I’ll join you in the bathroom.
Isidore didn’t know what to do about her diarrhea of the mouth when it came to Nico. She was going to put her sister’s life in bigger jeopardy if she didn’t zip her lips.
“Seriously?” Helen leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. “You look pretty cozy for a new relationship.”
“Try a first date,” Isidore admitted, feeling a weird kind of kinship with Helen.
“One would never know. You both look smitten like a couple of kittens.”
Isidore laughed. “I highly doubt Nico would enjoy being compared to a cat.”
“You’re probably right about that,” Helen said with a sweet smile. Glitter danced from her eyes, floating in the thin air like magic.
Weird.
“Can I ask you a question?” Isidore chomped down on her tongue, but it seemed nothing was going to stop her mouth from chattering away.
“By all means.”
“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
Helen blinked, tilting her head, pointing to the air between them. Flashes of light flicked across the table. “I’m not a royal, for one, and I have no powers. I’m what is known as a dormant fairy, only released since the mating of Nico’s brother.”
“No powers at all? As in like a human?”
Helen let out a long breath. “I know, boring as hell. It seems I do have some emotional healing powers, as in I tend to make people feel good, but other than that, I’m useless.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Isidore’s thoughts wandered to her mother and how nice it would have been to have one person, other than her two daughters, to help her feel good about herself when all her husband ever did was beat her down both emotionally and physically. “All creatures have a purpose.”
“Interesting coming from a witch.” Helen leaned across the table. “You have no idea what you are, do you?”
Isidore scrunched her face. “What do you mean?”
Helen tapped her temples. “If you focus, you can see the dust coming from your eyes.”
“Dust?”
“Fairy dust.”
“Impossible”. How could she be a fairy? That was just insane. Her parents were both witches, though her mother was half human, something that had always bothered her father.
She tried to concentrate on seeing this so-called fairy dust, but instead all she saw was a witch, hiding outside the building, across the sidewalk, in the woods.
Not a witch from her coven, but a witch that had bad intentions. How she knew that for sure, she had no idea, but she didn’t question it.
“Excuse me,” she said, making a beeline for the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nico moving toward her
“Where are you going?” he asked with an accusatory tone.
“I need you to trust me,” she whispered, holding his biceps. “Stay inside and stay away from the windows.”
Using her skills, she zipped out the front door essentially undetected, but she could feel Nico’s body closing in fast.
Damn him.
The witch in the woods stepped from her tree. “Back away,” she said with a snarl. “This is my hunt.”
“There is no hunt here.”
The witch laughed, her long, red hair blowing in the breeze. She raised her arms, lightning firing from her fingers. “Don’t make me hurt my own kind.”
“I won’t. Now leave before I—”
“Before you what?” The witch inched forward. “Traitor,” she whispered, flicking her fingers, extending her hands, fire rushing past Isidore.
Quickly, she turned, diving on Nico before the bolts burned through his body. “Get James. I’ll have her in restraints in a few minutes,” she said sternly, jumping up, her toes five feet from the ground as she twirled in the air, striking the other witch with her heel in the gut.
The witch grunted as she slammed into a tree, but she didn’t fall to the ground. Instead she hurled herself at Isidore.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” the witch said, leaning back, ready to twist and strike.
But Isidore was ready for the standard move and ducked. “Whoever trained you should be fired.”
“And you should be put down, you freak.” The witch spun fast and hard to the right. For a second, she disappeared.
Now all Isidore needed to figure out was where she’d strike.
Thump!
“Humph.”
The witch nailed Isidore with the sharp tip of her boots across the face. The taste of metal lined her throat as she fell twenty feet to the earth. Spots speckled her sight. She sucked in a deep breath before flying up behind the witch, grabbing her hair, and tossing her to the ground.
“Take that,” Isidore said.
But the witch didn’t stay down long, hurling herself to the sky.
Isidore dodged the witch’s first strike, but the second nailed her in the cheek. A sharp pain ripped through her head.
“Either back off and leave me to my hunt, or I’m going to put you down.”
Isidore landed flat on her back, nausea tearing at her gut. All she needed was one strong breath before she launched herself in the air.
The witch hovered fifteen feet over her, slowly lowering herself, a metal blade glistening in the moonlight, dripping with a kill potion intended to destroy any living being.
Including a witch.
Just as Isidore heaved herself to a standing position, shaking out the cobwebs that had started to settle in her brain, the witch raised her arm, only three feet away, with a sinister smile.
“Stupid girl,” the witch said, but her arm froze, and her grin turned to a frown.
“I can’t hold her like that for long,” Nico said with a strain in his voice.
Isidore snapped her gaze in his direction.
“Do something,” he said, “before I lose my ability to keep her from moving.”
“One, two, three, as fast as a bee, bind the witch that threatens thee.”
“Fucking freaks,” the witch muttered as she did a nosedive to the ground, her knife slipping from her hand. “You’re going to pay for this.”
“I doubt that.” Isidore held her cheek. Warm blood trickled between her fingers. “Lift the powers from this creature.” She held her hands over the witch’s body. “Swirl them into a seeing beaker and send them to the seeker.”
The witch shook and groaned in pain as her magic seeped from her pores, filling a large jar that had formed in the sky.
“What’s happening?” Nico asked.
“I’m sending her powers to a vault. You’ll need to have someone take her before the council. You can’t let a witch get to her or find her.”
Nico went for the knife.
“Don’t touch that!” Isidore jumped in front of him. “It’s laced with poison that will kill you in seconds. You need protective gloves. Or better yet, I’ll take care of it.”
“All right.” He traced his thumb gently over her cheek. “Looks worse than it is. I don’t think you need stitches.”
“I think you have some explaining to do. Wolves don’t have the power to move, or in this case, stop objects and especially not a creature of any kind.”