Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Ahmentree's Magic
Ahmentree's Magic
Ahmentree's Magic
Ebook180 pages2 hours

Ahmentree's Magic

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

In every society, there is a hierarchy, one that puts each person in their place, whether they realize it or not. In the current magical society, unbound witches and warlocks are at the bottom of this totem pole with no magical protection outside what they can provide themselves.

Olivia London lived her life as an Unbound Magical, splitting her time working as an assistant at a law firm and a store clerk at a magical supply shop. When the death of a close friend starts to reveal secrets about her past, Olivia must figure out how to navigate this new world.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 13, 2020
ISBN9781393192947
Ahmentree's Magic

Read more from Andrea Rose Washington

Related to Ahmentree's Magic

Related ebooks

Action & Adventure Fiction For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Ahmentree's Magic

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Ahmentree's Magic - Andrea Rose Washington

    One

    Over the course of a few weeks, my life changed completely. As I look back, I can pinpoint when it all started. It started on a Tuesday... the most untalked about day of the week unless you love tacos. 

    I was walking home from work, well, walking to the metro. I could technically walk home from my job, and I did most days to save money, but that day it would’ve meant walking home in falling snow. 

    I worked at the law firm of Sanders & Angell as a receptionist during the week and at a magical supply shop named WICCA on the weekends. 

    Working at Sanders & Angell wasn't the most glamorous job, but it paid the bills. It also helped me make connections in the magical world and build relationships that could help me move up my standing. 

    In the magical world, I was known as Unbound, which meant I was at the lowest of the low. It wasn't always like this in the United States, but when the Romar family disappeared in the latter half of the 1800s, other magical families took over. The Romars were the first African American magical family on record in this country. At the emergence of Family Covens in the late 1500s, the Romars refused to participate. 

    Each family that wanted to consolidate their power started their own Coven. As the country grew, so did the Coven's need for power and territory. However, by the time the Romars retreated from society in the mid-1800s, only half of the original Covens existed. 

    Since then, the magical community of witches and warlocks in the United States has been run by Covens, just like the rest of the supernatural world. There were about 20 families that ruled over all the Bound witches and warlocks. If you threw in the halflings and vampires, there were about 45 families who ran all of the magical beings. 

    In the DMV area, where I lived, two families split the region. The Abbas and Easton families ran the area, and I didn't belong to either. 

    To join a Coven, you needed to be sponsored by a member who was in good standing within that Coven. It was a popularity contest, and again, I was the lowest of the low – I didn't have anyone who would vouch for me. 

    When I was a child, my parents died of a drug overdose, and I was found by non-magical neighbors once the smell of the decaying bodies got to them. Since I was so young and didn't know what my parents were or what I was for that matter, I was placed in the non-magical foster care system. Since then, I grew up away from all other magicals.

    Since the magical community was basically the mob, well, that’s just the way I viewed it, not belonging to a family put Unbounds in a dangerous position. Growing up without my mother or father left me without certain protections that all witches and warlocks needed growing up, and I had the scars across my body to prove it. 

    Though I should consider myself one of the lucky ones, I've met other Unbound's in more dire situations than myself. Unbound's didn’t have the same resources or protection as Coven members. The spells we did have, those came from bookshelves, and most were general knowledge. To make matters worse, many Unbounds were unable to get work in magical businesses, or businesses associated with magical businesses, or faced abuse at the hands of Coven members. But Unbounds were banned from organizing. I think the Covens were afraid of the collective strength of us Unbounds. It probably had something to do with what happened the last time Unbounds tried to unite.

    I’d heard about a group of Unbounds who tried to organize around the mid-1900s. They were called the Children of the Chosen, and it was said they were more like a cult than a Coven. 

    Granted, I didn't know everything about it; it was a dark time, and after all the deaths, people were too scared to talk about it. Besides, anyone with real first-hand knowledge was dead. What I do know is they planned to create a Coven through three families. They were going to pull their magic together, but when the time came, they were all killed by the leaders of the Abbas and Easton Covens. But again, this was all hearsay... 

    I had done a lot for myself with the help of another well off Unbound. I had come a long way from the scared five-year-old little girl. I figured out I was a witch; I found my community and taught myself everything I needed to know. What I couldn't learn on my own, I had the support of people willing to teach me or at least point me in the right direction. 

    A strong gust of wind whipped down the street, piercing my skin like hundreds of small ice needles were thrown my way. I ducked my head down, tugged my coat tighter around me, and whispering a warming spell. I felt the gem in my necklace heat up, and soon, that heat spread throughout my body. The spell wasn't strong enough to completely block out the cold, but it did help me make my way down the street. When I got home, I was going to have a tall glass of red wine to warm myself back up.

    I crossed the last street, and the Archives Metro Station came into view as a large crowd headed up the stairs with raised voices screaming and yelling as they passed people dressed in the metro uniform. 

    What happened? I asked the nearest woman – an older black woman who looked to be in her mid-fifties. I caught her attention just as she was re-buttoning her powder blue peacoat.  

    They shut it down. She huffed as she wrapped her scarf around her head. 

    I blinked. What do you mean they shut it down? 

    That whole metro system is a piece of crap. She waved her gloved hand at the sign. They shut it down for the rest of the night. They said something about the weather freezing the lines so bad they were cracking. So, they just shut it down. Leaving thousands of people without an affordable way to get home. She huffed once more and stomped off through the snow.

    Well, that changed everything. How was I going to get home now? Walking was still out of the question with this weather. Even though it wasn't in the budget, I’d have to take a rideshare home. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, unlocked it, and opened the app. I started to set up my ride home but paused as I saw the line forming on the sidewalk of cabs and rideshares already coming to pick up their guests. Rush hour traffic just tripled, and looking back down at the app, the surcharge tripled as well. I groaned and looked around. There was no way I was going to get picked up now, and if I did manage it, the surcharge would not be worth the ride. 

    I looked around the crowded city block, trying to figure out what to do. I could go back to the office and sit in the lobby for the next hour and a half while I waited for traffic and the surcharge to lessen, but I quickly disregarded that idea - the security guards did not like me, and they were likely to throw me out just for the fun of it. I glanced back down the street and saw people ducking into nearby restaurants. 

    I could do that; I could grab an early dinner, maybe a glass of wine, and relax in warmth until the roads were clear. I glanced up and down the street again, looking for a restaurant that wasn't about to be overcrowded. 

    Ciders, I whispered upon seeing the sign a few feet down. I remember overhearing my coworkers talk about it a few days ago. They all went out for lunch, and Chelsea, my only, I guess you could call her a 'friend' at Sanders & Angell, said she wanted to invite me along, but the others weren't so fond of me. It was a relatively new restaurant, only being around for about six months, it had a relaxed vibe to it. The best part was that since it was only for magical beings, and only those with magical blood could see it, it was my best option. 

    I walked in and looked around; I didn't remember them saying how small it was. There were only about fifteen tables and booths combined, and there was a small bar along the wall with moderately inexpensive alcohol and wine lining the shelves. I quickly grabbed an open seat at the end of the bar, looked over their menu, checked their pricing, and made sure they accepted non-magical money. I was running low on Ringgits, and I couldn't waste the little I had left on one dinner. Thankfully they took both, though the non-magical price was a bit more expensive.

    I glanced over the menu; there were enough choices for a nice meal — four choices for appetizers, six entrees, and five desserts. The top of the menu said they it was seasonal, which meant they changed their menu every six weeks.

    I wasn't super hungry, but I didn't think I could spend fifteen dollars on a bowl of soup. I looked over the menu again and saw the Grilled Bistro Steak with roasted root vegetables and haricot verts for $25. Not a bad price, but with tax and tip, I couldn't do wine with dinner.  

    Hi, I looked up from my menu to see the bartender standing in front of me. He was young, in his mid-twenties, and he was wearing a bracelet showing he was a part of the Abbas Coven. My name is Justin. What can I start you with?

    I'll take water, I said. Justin nodded and reached for a glass to his left and started filling it. 

    Do you know what you would like to eat? Justin asked, placing the glass in front of me. 

    I nodded. I'll take the Bistro Steak entree with the standard sides. 

    How would you like the steak cooked? 

    Medium rare, please. I closed the menu and pushed it towards him. I saw him glance down at my wrist, no doubt looking for a Coven band. Thankfully I still had my jacket on, and it covered my bare wrist. I knew I wouldn't get kicked out for not having a Coven band, but there was the chance my food would never come out, or my order would come out wrong. He glanced back down at my wrist and then went to put my order in. 

    I pulled my sleeve down, reached for my phone, pulled up my reading app, and started reading where I left off the night before. I tightened up as a body sat down next to me. The rest of the bar was open, and they decided to sit next to me. Why? 

    Mr. Abbas, how are you doing tonight? Justin came back over and stood in front of the man next to me. 

    My usual. His voice was gruff as he didn’t bother to answer Justin's question. I froze in my seat. Arte Abbas, the heir to the Abbas Coven, was sitting next to me. Even though I worked at one of his businesses, I’d never met anyone in the Abbas family before.

    Right away, sir. Justin nodded and turned to start making whatever Arte Abbas’s usual drink was. Two minutes later, Justin placed his glass in front of him. 

    Has he arrived yet? Arte asked before Justin could walk away. 

    No, sir, Justin answered. Arte nodded and brought his drink up to his lips and took a sip. Justin nodded back and walked away. I made sure to focus on my phone, trying to be as invisible as possible. Maybe I could get my food to-go and be gone before he noticed me. But before I could figure out how to do it, Justin came back over with my food. 

    Here you go, miss. He said, placing the plate in front of me. Is there anything else I can get for you? He glanced at my wrist once more, but thankfully I still had it covered. 

    No, but umm. I bit my lip, trying to make sure I wasn't overheard by Arte. Can I have a to-go box as well? I might have to leave soon. 

    No problem, Justin said as he walked away, and I chanced a look at Arte. I had never seen him in person before, only photos on the company website. He was taller in person, at least six feet, and he had caramel-colored skin and bright hazel eyes. His black hair was cut short to his head, and his beard was at least two inches long. He seemed to ignore me or not notice I was there altogether. Both were fine with me. He took another sip of his drink then looked around the restaurant; he did ask Justin if someone had arrived, and Justin said no. He was probably looking for whoever the guy was. 

    I turned my head back to my plate just as Justin came back with the to-go box and a bag. He also placed the check next to me. I quickly pulled out my credit card and handed

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1