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Wytchcraft
Wytchcraft
Wytchcraft
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Wytchcraft

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Matilda Kavanagh – Witch For Hire. No spell, charm, or potion too difficult.

Supernaturals are out of the closet, living alongside humans in a tenuous relationship. Most are just trying to live life like nothing’s changed, others would use magic for their own gain.

When Mattie creates a charm to help a half-troll catch a fairy, she sets herself up for the worst possible thing: she is now in debt to the fairy court. If she can’t find the fae prince and bring him home alive, it’ll be her head on the chopping block.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 9, 2014
ISBN9781310527890
Wytchcraft
Author

Shauna Granger

Shauna Granger lives in a sleepy little beach town in Southern California with her husband, John, and their goofy dog, Brody. Always fascinated by Magic, Shauna spent most of her teen years buried in books about fairies, elves, gnomes, spells, witchcraft, wizards and sorcery. When she's not busy working on the next installment of the Elemental Series she enjoys cooking, entertaining, MMA fight nights, watching way too much TV and coffee. Lots of coffee.

Read more from Shauna Granger

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    Wytchcraft - Shauna Granger

    Wytchcraft

    Copyright 2014 by Shauna Granger

    Smashwords Edition

    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 © 2014 by Shauna Granger

    Cover art by Shauna Granger

    For my mom, Cheryl,

    who gave me my first Urban Fantasy novel.

    Table of Contents

    Dedication

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Acknowledgements

    About the Author

    Chapter 1

    The cupboards were practically bare. My stores were dangerously low and I was completely out of the vervain I was searching for. I’d have to go visit Ronnie soon, but my tab was getting a little out of hand, and I didn’t like the idea of adding to it. Closing the cupboard, I decided against starting the potion. If I didn’t do it right, it would blow up in my face. Literally. And I just waxed my eyebrows.

     Gonna have to find work soon, Artie. I reached to scratch my black, smush-faced cat behind the ears as he purred on the kitchen table. We’ll both be eating canned tuna if I’m not careful. Artemis rolled on his back, four black paws stretching in opposite directions before he became boneless.

    Reaching for the fridge door, I bent over to poke through leftover take-out containers. Just as I grabbed a cold eggroll, someone banged on my front door. A glance at the clock told me it was well after midnight. It wasn’t odd for someone to come by at that time of night, but I wasn’t expecting anyone. Biting off a hunk of eggroll, I nudged the fridge closed with my hip, grabbing my baseball bat on my way to the door. Sure, I could hex whoever it was or use my knockout powder, but if it was a friend, they wouldn’t thank me for it in the morning. At least the bat was threatening enough to give someone pause and me a second to react.

    I blew my bangs out of my eyes and rose up on my toes to check the peephole just as my impatient caller banged again. Why did they have to put peepholes so high? Five foot three wasn’t that short, but trying to look out my front door made me feel like a child. I couldn’t see his face, but I saw the curly tuft of light red hair. I drew in a deep breath and caught a whiff of alcohol and sour garbage. Through the door, I heard the distinct sound of a nose being blown. I prayed he had a handkerchief, but I doubted it.

    What do you want, troll? I demanded through the closed door. Hefting my bat in one hand, I munched the last bite of eggroll.

    Whot? Through the door now? he whined.

    Why should I let you in? I asked around the mouthful.

    I’ll pay!

    For what? I opened the door as far as the security chain would allow.

    For work, he pressed. I did not like working for trolls, even half trolls. Artemis mrrowed loudly, reminding me of the thought of sharing food with him. Sighing, I pressed my forehead to the doorframe, feeling my resolve to shut the door in his face slipping away. After all, I had known Jimmy for a few years. Every once in a while, he got a get-rich-quick-scheme into his head and came looking for a spell or a charm to help him. Unsurprisingly, his plans usually backfired, but work was so slow lately, I didn’t really have the luxury of turning down his money.

    For the love of frogs, I cursed. Fine! I slammed the door to release the chain but kept the bat in hand and stormed back into my living room, not waiting to see if he’d follow.

    Thanks, Mattie, he breathed, shutting the door behind him.

    Matilda, I corrected, only my friends call me Mattie. Sitting on the couch, I tucked my feet under me, leaving him the uncomfortable, straight-backed chair. What do you want?

    I need to catch a fairy, he said. He sat on the edge of the chair, knee bouncing, and clutched a worn, porkpie hat in his knobby fingers. The tuft of hair on top of his head didn’t hide his batwing-like ears. He might’ve passed for any other fae – maybe even human – if it weren’t for those ears.

    You’re serious? I blinked at him.

    Yeah, whot of it?

    Well, it’s dangerous for one thing. And I do mean fatal. I paused to lick oil from my fingers, watching his reaction. He seemed excited at my warning, maybe because I hadn’t dismissed him. And it’s expensive.

    I have money, he rushed, jamming a hand in his pocket, pulling out a pouch. He pulled the thing open and spilled a small mound of jewels on my coffee table. They gleamed ruby red, emerald green, and sapphire blue.

    That’s a start, I said, keeping my face schooled, picking at the chipped blue polish on my nails.

    Fine! He threw a wad of human currency on the table. I didn’t want to need his money, but rent was up last week, and I didn’t have enough in my bank account to cover the check.

    What are you gonna do with the fairy once you’ve got it?

    Never you mind! he growled, finding some confidence.

    Well if that’s how you want it, then no, I said firmly, waving at the door.

    Whot? His jaw dropped.

    Look, I don’t aid and abet criminals. If I don’t know what you’re going to do with it, I won’t help you. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

    Money, he said.

    What?

    I want money!

    You have money! I waved at the pile on my table.

    Phsst, he shook his head, that’s nothing compared to whot a fairy can give me. He was practically drooling. He was an idiot if he thought he could get a fortune out of a fairy, but if that’s all he wanted, then I could at least sleep at night. I’d never understood the obsession trolls had with money. Ever since they lost their dominion over the bridges of the world, their greed had grown exponentially.

    I stared at Jimmy. We were the same age and grew up not too far apart from each other, but we’d taken decidedly different paths. My parents had died when I was sixteen, leaving me on my own with very little money, forcing me to figure out how to survive. Luckily, Ronnie’s parents took me in until I was on my feet. I was out of their house by eighteen, starting my own business of spells and charms for hire. My mother was an accomplished witch, and luckily, she’d spent the majority of my life in the kitchen, teaching me how to spell and cast until I could brew anything in my sleep. Money wasn’t always flush, but I managed. Jimmy didn’t really manage.

    Jimmy was crafty enough, sneaky enough, and even smart enough if he tried, but he was an outcast who had to fend for himself, and he didn’t do it well. His father was a troll, and they weren’t known for their parenting awards. His mother was a human who was more than a little embarrassed of her lifetime reminder of a summer fling she’d had with a creepy bridge-dweller. So the humans didn’t want him, and the trolls wouldn’t even acknowledge him. Damn, I actually felt bad for the kid.

    All right, fine, I sighed, climbing to my feet, leaving my bat on the floor. But you don’t catch a fairy, you know.

    How’s that?

    You steal their token. I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a wooden disk, some oil, and herbs. I was careful to make sure he couldn’t see what I added to my grandmother’s mortar. I ground the mixture with the warm pestle and applied it to the wooden disk. The grain stained a darker color. I whispered a spell over the talisman so he couldn’t catch the words. It was all done in less than five minutes. I stared down at the disk, feeling a little anticlimactic.

    That’s it? he asked skeptically, taking the talisman. I saw him glance at the pile of jewels and cash on the table. Magic wasn’t all sparks and bangs and smoke; sometimes it was just quiet power that people other than witches didn’t understand.

    You still have to find the field where their token is. This will lead you to it – the token, not the field. Once you have it, it has to answer your call and grant you one wish, I said as I moved over to the table, sweeping the jewels toward me and gathering up the paper bills before he could snatch any of it back. It wasn’t my fault he’d offered it all before he knew how quick the charm would be.

    Whot’s the token?

    A four-leaf clover.

    Whot’s so hard about finding that? he asked, making me laugh as I crammed the bills into the back pocket of my jeans.

    They’ll have hidden it in a field of clover. I walked back into the kitchen, the jewels balanced precariously in my cupped hands. Dumping them on the counter, I opened a drawer and fished out a black pouch from the stash I kept for charms for my customers.

    So? Jimmy pressed, having followed me into the kitchen.

    For every ten thousand three-leaf clovers, there’s one four-leaf clover. I dropped the jewels into the pouch, pulling the drawstrings closed.

    You’re joking! His mouth hung open showing me his yellowing teeth. I crinkled my nose, pulling my eyes away.

    That’ll find it. I nodded at the disk in his hand. Once you get your wish, you have to give the token back though. Otherwise, you risk the wrath of the Sidhe. I saw the flicker of fear cross his face before he clutched the disk to his chest, turned, and was out the door with a slam.

    I shook my head as I pulled the money that would see me through the next couple of months out of my pocket.

    Careful what you wish for, troll, I sang. I thumbed through the wad of cash, straightening out the bills until they were all going the same direction. Once I counted out how much was there, I blinked in surprise. Looking up at the waiting yellow eyes of my cat, I said, Wow, Artie, it looks like we have enough to pay rent, buy groceries, pay off my tab with Ronnie, and might have a nickel or two left over.

    Mrrrow, Artemis replied as he meandered out of the kitchen and into the living room.

    Yes, and some fresh cream, I said, scratching him under the chin when he jumped up onto the table. He batted at a ruby I missed. I snatched it away before he could knock it off the table and lose it forever under the couch. Artemis waved a paw at me, trying to get his gem back, as I picked up the pouch with the others. I shoved the wad of cash into my purse on my way into the bedroom to hide the precious stones. I kept one dark emerald out for Ronnie. She’d been letting me drag out my tab for over two months; it would be a nice little thank you.

    I grabbed my coat and scarf, shrugging them on before grabbing my purse and smiling at the folded bills tucked inside. I dropped Ronnie’s emerald into the hidden zipper pocket so I wouldn’t lose it and left. I threw the usual locks on the door before setting a freezing charm on the keyhole. It was the middle of the night, and most of the human population was fast asleep, but the supernaturals were all wide-eyed and bushytailed, and the metal locks wouldn’t do anything to deter most of them and the iron lock was a hasp you could only lock and unlock from the inside. At least my freezing spell would slow them enough that they just might pass my door and move on to easier prey.

    I hit the dimly lit lobby after a short and shaky elevator ride. The entire place smelled like powdery perfume, and my nose twitched, threatening a sneeze, as I walked over to the front counter. The werewolf landlady was thumbing through her copy of Vollmond Magazine.

    Heya, Frankie, I said, plopping my purse on the counter that came up just past my chest.

    Mattie, she said, her steely eyes never leaving the glossy pages. Her trendy, spikey hair was blue this week. I caught sight of my reflection in the glass display behind the counter and quickly smoothed out my own black hair, tucking the short ends behind my ears. I wasn’t as brave with my hair as Frankie, but I could see my purple highlights had washed out almost completely and were in desperate need of a touch up.

    You’re two days late on rent. Frankie was a little curt, but having a Were family managing your apartment building was pretty nice. They were a built-in security system. Their thicker skin kept them immune from most magics, and their inhuman strength made them a formidable first line of defense against robbers. Hell, the human police had to come up with a whole new formula for their bullets since lead had no effect on them. However, lead did incapacitate the Fae, so the human police had to carry double now. As for witches? Our DNA was almost identical to humans, so anything fired out of the barrel of a gun would cut us down just as easily.

    Yeah, I said, digging out the cash. Sorry about that, but I got it covered now.

    No checks. She glanced sidelong at me, her pupils dilating, stealing the grey of her eyes. I swallowed, trying not to let my nerves show.

    Right, I said, remembering what happened the last time my check bounced. I still needed to patch that hole in my kitchen wall. I have cash.

    Fifty dollar late fee. Frankie was a woman of few words and finely manicured nails.

    Fifty! Are you serious? I demanded, checking my voice a little late. Frankie closed her magazine, set it on the counter top, and turned her full attention to me. Not something I really wanted, to be honest with you. I suddenly felt two feet tall under the larger woman’s stare.

    Twenty five dollars each day it’s late, she said slowly. You’re two days late. Twenty five times two is what?

    Fifty, I said with a sigh, pulling out more cash and seeing my grocery list shrink in my mind as I handed over the money. Frankie took a moment to count it in front of me, being very deliberate as she laid out each bill, the tips of her nails clicking on the countertop. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket, not wanting her to see the chipping blue polish. She went so far as to pull out one of those highlighter pens the human bank tellers used to check for counterfeit bills.

    My stomach knotted up. It hadn’t occurred to me that Jimmy might’ve pulled a fast one and passed me fake notes. She marked each bill with a quick tick, each one showing the same yellowish-brown color. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing until Frankie gathered them up and shoved them under her collar and into her cleavage.

    See ya, Mattie, she said, effectively dismissing me. I blew out the breath I had been holding and made my way to the door that led to the stairwell to the street. Ronnie’s shop was the ground floor of our building, but you had to go out to the street in order to get to it.

    It was cold and wet outside after the first rain of the season. I smelled the salt on the sidewalk as I turned toward Ronnie’s door. I saw her through the window. She was just pulling down the shade and closing up for the rest of the night but hadn’t locked the front door yet. Her tiny silver bells jingled merrily, announcing my arrival as the door fell closed behind me.

    Hey, Mattie, Ronnie greeted me with a smile, climbing out of the window display. Ronnie and I were only a few months apart in age, having come up through school together, but she had the ageless face of a child. I always wondered if she had a little pixie blood, but her long, curly, orange-red hair was too thick to ever belong to a pixie.

    Heya, Ron, I said, returning her hug.

    I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted. I’m closing up early. She started toward the back of the shop where the cash register was.

    No problem. I followed her. Ronnie kept her shop well stocked with too many shelves that threatened to spill over if customers weren’t careful with their purses or elbows. I really just wanted to settle up.

    Oh? Ronnie glanced at me over her shoulder, not in the least bit worried about walking into anything. I didn’t blame her skepticism. In the last couple of months, I’d only been making enough money to keep a roof over my head and enough food in my belly to keep from starving – and sometimes not even that much. If I hadn’t been her best friend, she wouldn’t have let me keep my tab open so long.

    Yes, I said as we reached the counter. Once again I dug through my purse, pulling out money. Ronnie’s eyes went wide at the sight of the bills. I knew she didn’t actually believe I had enough to cover the whole tab.

    Where’d you get it? she asked, taking the stack of bills. I smiled when she put it into the safe under the counter without counting it like Frankie had.

    Troll, I said casually, digging into my purse for the emerald. Why is it, when you’re looking for something, every purse becomes bottomless?

    What’d you do? Rob him? she asked, laughing lightly.

    No, no. I felt the edge of the gem and closed my hand around it. He wanted an expensive charm, and before I could give him a price, he started throwing money at me.

    Stupid bridge dweller, she said, shaking her head.

    He also gave me a handful of jewels, and I thought you might like this one. I held up the rich green stone between my thumb and forefinger, enjoying Ronnie’s slaw-jawed reaction.

    Oh, no, Mattie, we’re square, she said quickly, waving her hands at me.

    Ronnie, he gave me a whole pouch full, please. I reached out, grabbed her hand, and put the stone into her palm, closing her fingers over it. Besides, it matches your eyes. She laughed at that, opening her palm and looking at the emerald. I could tell she wanted to argue about it some more, but she kept her mouth closed, finally clutching it to her chest.

    Thanks, she said before tucking it away into a charm box. She tapped the box with her finger, locking it up tight.

    Thank you, I said, swinging my purse strap back on my shoulder. No one else would’ve let me keep a tab open as long as you did.

    Eh. She shrugged, pulling her purse out of its hiding place behind the counter. I knew you were good for it. Maybe she knew that, but I didn’t. It had been a lean couple of months. The only thing that kept me going was knowing Samhain was around the corner, and business was always much better around the holidays.

    We walked to the front of the store. Ronnie locked the door with keys and a similar freezing spell before I helped her pull the metal grate down. She locked it to the ground, spelling it closed too.

    Wanna grab a bite? she asked as she straightened up, tugging at the edge of her jean skirt, straightening it over her black tights.

    Yeah, actually, I said, thinking about the lack of groceries in my apartment. It would be nice to have a hot meal before I tried to buy food. The gods only knew what I would end up bringing home if I went shopping that hungry.

    Ronnie dropped her keys into her purse and slung it over her head so the strap went across her body, and we headed down the street. It was nearing one o’clock, but the street was still busy with people, mostly supernaturals, going about their nightly routines. It had been over seventy years since our races came out of hiding and started living openly with humans. World War II might have had an entirely different outcome if the Gremlins hadn’t started the Wave of Revelation with their uncanny metal working, developing new ammunition, planes, and helmets for the Allied Forces.

    Sadly, despite our efforts to make the transition from myth to reality as painless as possible for the humans, trying to adopt their habits and traditions, we were all still living in a tenuous community. Many humans still didn’t trust us, and we were often scapegoats for crimes and tragedies. There were factions of human-run hate groups that targeted us on a regular basis until we started living in separate neighborhoods, like the one Ronnie and I lived and worked in. Our neighborhood, Havencrest, was an area we had carved out of West Hollywood, but most of West Hollywood was dominated by supernaturals now, even spilling over to the rest of Los Angeles. The fairies especially loved Southern California for the year-round sunshine.

    There were plenty of humans excited and eager for us to assimilate into the human community, hoping our magical powers and the beauty of some of our races would bring about a whole new race. So far, only some of the supernatural races could breed easily with humans, like witches and Weres – the races that share some of the same genetic code as humans. Jimmy was one of the rarer breeding occurrences. Unfortunately for Jimmy, their genetic gamble hadn’t worked out. He was short and narrow, whereas most trolls were very tall and broad. He kept the batwing ears and receding hair line, his face was mostly human, and his skin was a greenish gray. All in all, an unfortunate mix.

    Witches had the easiest time blending in. Other than our propensity to sleep during the day and wake at night, we had no obvious traits that made us look anything other than human. My grandmother told me the natural inclination to sleep during the day was a left over habit from the Dark Ages and having to do all our spell work at night. It was just natural, unless you needed to perform Sun magic, which I rarely did. As a woman, I liked to work with Moon magic. I couldn’t imagine being forced to hide my true nature and work magic in secret. I mean, it was as a part of me as my liver or kidney. I just couldn’t live without it.

    Ronnie and I made it to The Brownie’s Bite, the corner diner on our block, in a matter of minutes. The warm air rushed over us, scented with bacon and chocolate and making my mouth water. I waved to Fin, the Brownie woman behind the counter, as we seated ourselves in a booth by the window. Fin brought us a couple of menus and two Hobgoblin ales without being asked. She slipped away, giving us a chance to look over the choices.

    Personally, I didn’t really need time; I was so excited to have a meal out of the house I had already decided what I wanted before we even made it inside. I tried not to bounce in my seat with impatience as Ronnie pursed her lips, trying to decide what she wanted.

    So, who was the troll? Someone we know? Ronnie’s eyes went up and down the menu. I stared at her for a moment, not wanting to answer, because if we got caught up in a conversation, it would take her that much longer to choose her meal.

    Uh, yeah, I said, pausing to take a sip of my beer. It was Jimmy.

    Oh, the half-troll, she said, glancing up at me, and I nodded.

    Dude, I said, my rumbling stomach finally getting the best of me, you know you’re just going to order the same thing you always do. Can we just get on with it?

    Impatient much? Ronnie shot back, one red brow arching.

    No, starving much. I signaled Fin with two fingers.

    What’ll it be, ladies? Fin asked, her dirt brown hands holding a ticket pad and pen. I looked at Ronnie, giving her a chance to order first.

    Grilled cheese with tomatoes and tomato soup, please. Ronnie ordered her usual with a little eye roll for me.

    Double bacon cheese burger with a fried egg on top, I ordered quickly.

    Fries? Fin asked, her thin eyebrows arching.

    Oh yeah, I said excitedly.

    That’s a lot of meat, Ronnie said after Fin took our menus and headed for the kitchen.

    Yes, it is, I agreed, reaching for my beer and picking at the label. I refused to join in the staring contest I felt Ronnie trying to start and stared resolutely at my bottle.

    Anyway, she finally said, reaching for her own bottle and taking a sip, what did Jimmy want that was so expensive?

    A charm to catch a fairy. I took another sip of the spicy ale, enjoying the feel of the bubbles bursting in my mouth.

    What? Ronnie nearly spit out the sip she’d taken, making her cough violently. She pounded the table and blinked back the tears the carbonation caused.

    Yeah, I said with a laugh. That’s about how I felt about it.

    Mattie, you didn’t.

    What? I shrugged. It’s just a little charm. Even if he does find a token, you know whatever he asks for, the fairy will find a way to punish him with it.

    Aren’t you worried it’ll come back to you?

    Not really, I said, pushing my bottle away. I didn’t want to drink too much on an empty stomach. I mean, how could it? I didn’t do anything wrong. Jimmy’s the one wanting to catch one; he’ll be the one to pay the price.

    I don’t know, Ronnie said slowly. Before she could argue about it further, Fin was back with our plates, sliding them in front of us. I was aware of an excess of saliva in my mouth when the scent of bacon and red meat wafted up.

    Ronnie picked up her spoon and dipped it into her soup, but she stopped short of her mouth when she saw me lift my burger with two hands, ketchup dripping between my fingers, and take a huge, unladylike bite. The yolk of the egg burst, adding a whole new creamy texture. I groaned in satisfaction.

    You know, she said, one eyebrow arching again as she watched me, over nine billion animals are killed every year for food.

    Wow, I said as I swallowed, earning another sneer from my best friend. That is a lot.

    The Hindus revere cows.

    Me, too, I said, taking another bite.

    They remind people to think about how many people a cow can feed with its milk instead of how few people it can feed with its meat, she said before finally sipping her soup from the dripping spoon.

    That’s deep, I said, wiping away the drip of ketchup and yolk from my chin. Ronnie rolled her eyes again and shook her head, but fortunately, she let the subject drop so I could enjoy my spot at the top of the food chain.

    ***

    When we got to our apartment building, Ronnie broke away from me as I continued on to the corner food market. She lived one floor above me, but unlike me, she owned her apartment and didn’t have to worry about encountering Frankie. The corner market wasn’t a big store like the ones humans had in their neighborhoods, but it was brightly lit and warm inside. I had a field day buying whatever food my little heart desired, even treating myself to some imported Irish cheese and Dutch chocolates.

    Standing in front of the pastry display, I felt the prickling sensation on the back of my neck that told me someone was watching me. When I picked my head up and looked around, I didn’t see anyone nearby, let alone looking at me. I tried to shake off the creeping feeling of invisible fingers on my neck, rolling my shoulders and turning back to the sweet smelling confections.

    I picked out a few sugar cakes, spun the plastic bag, and tied it off before I pushed my cart to the front of the store. The lines weren’t long, but people were feeling chatty and taking forever. I found myself checking over my shoulder every few seconds like I had a nervous tic. I grabbed a magazine off the rack and held it up in front of my face so I could look around over the top of it, very covert like. A dwarf man wrinkled his brow at me when he caught me staring. I felt my cheeks flush as I turned away, shoving the magazine back onto the rack carelessly, creasing a couple of pages.

    Rushing through the pleasantries with the clerks, I was desperate to get out of the store and away from the invisible eyes still on me. Practically running out of the store, clutching my bags as they made my fingers red and white with strain, I saw the figure of

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