Spellbound

By Shannon Simpson

I always knew I'd die on my 500th birthday. Alone.

Then Aidan Crane turned my world upside down.

Being a witch I could kill him with an errant thought.

Being a vampire, he could lose control and drain me.

Can our love overcome any obstacle?

 

        

• Language: English
• Publisher: Words Matter Publishing
• Release date: Jul 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781947072855

Shannon Simpson

As a child, I wanted to be a teacher. I realized around the beginning of my teenage years I didn't have the temperament to be a teacher. My first vampire book was Forever and the Night by Linda Lael Miller. I loved it! Over time I read every vampire book I could. A few years back a dear friend recommended Twilight. Just because I'm older doesn't mean I can't dive into a YA novel ever now and then. I'd seen the movie but didn't know it was based on a book. The thrift store I worked at got in one of the mass market copies of Twilight with the movie cover. I took it as a sign. I read it and was hooked. Thankfully it was after all the books had been released. Patience isn't one of my virtues. I loved them! That was the only copy of that particular edition of Twilight to be donated during the time I was at that job. Witches have always appealed to me. I can't say what it is about them, the powers, or the spells; maybe it's the flying. Whatever the reason I decided to give a short story about witches a try. Nothing overly complicated. It was a little fantasy about an ordinary girl hiding the fact she was a witch and the boy next door. I loved writing it. I took a chance and combined my love of vampires and witches and suddenly the Spellbound Saga was born. This journey has barely begun, but I can't wait to see where it goes. I hope you'll come along for the ride.

Book preview

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Prologue

Five tall yellow beeswax candles surrounded the small magenta pot. With a snap of my fingers their ruby-colored wicks flared to life. When the orange flame turned green, it was time. A handful of sand-like soil covered the bottom of the cauldron. I placed a photograph of a three-story Victorian style gray house, upon it. My home. A sprinkle of dark rich earth; fresh dirt from Mystic Manor’s new location mingled with the sandy soil from its current. To complete the spell—a drop of witch’s blood. My blood. Closing my eyes, I spoke the words I’d said numerous times before.

"Witches of yesteryear,

Come to me, join me here.

Move Mystic Manor through time and space,

Take it now to its new place.

Give memories to one and all,

Except those within these walls,

Let the residents of Townville wake from their dreams,

To a sight of the Manor as yet unseen."

Ashes from the picture floated around me twice counterclockwise before drifting out the small oval-shaped window. I knew that with the morning dew they would come to rest in a wooded area in a small southern town thousands of miles away. Shortly after, Mystic Manor would join them.

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Chapter One

With a muttered curse, I dropped into an empty chair in the rear of the classroom. Why did I continually put myself through hell? I hated school the first time around, and the second and the third and…. Nothing had changed over the years. The teachers were still unimaginative. The students were as vain and insipid as they had been fifty years ago. A shudder ran up my spine as memories I wanted to forget threatened to overtake me.

I didn’t have time for memories. I had to play the part of the new student convincingly or all my preparations would be for naught. I forced a smile as the teacher called my name. When would the teacher’s figure out a smarter way to verify all the students were in class? Having to raise your hand and say ‘here’ was silly. What if I said ‘there’ instead? I fought the urge. I didn’t need to start out that way at a new school. One wrong move and the teachers would spread the word that I was a troublemaker. Then nothing I did would change their minds. Forcing a smile, I barely lifted my hand. Here. The last thing I wanted to do was call attention to myself.

Everyone looked my way anyway. So much for remaining inconspicuous, I glanced away. I hated being the center of attention preferring to hide in the background. It was easier to keep my secret if no one took any notice of me.

Welcome to Spanish 101, said Mrs. Covar, a small dark-haired woman. Then she made a point of introducing me to the whole class and asking me to say a few words about myself. I hated when teachers did that. Why couldn’t they call roll and go on about their lessons? Why single me out because I was new? I didn’t know anyone here. Maybe they should tell me a little about themselves. Wouldn’t that be fair? Tit for tat and all that. Why did I have to stand in front of the class and talk about where I’d come from? No one cared. I didn’t want to be friends with these people any more than they wanted to be friends with me.

It wasn’t like I could tell the truth. The entire class would think I was insane if I did. For a moment I let myself imagine what would happen if I did. I could see it clearly. I was standing before all the curious stares. Smiling, I said, I’m a witch. I may look eighteen, but I’ve been alive almost 190 years. I was born July 21, 1823. I have powers. I do spells. Oh…and I can fly. The room was deathly silent a second before everyone started laughing at me. A few even spun their fingers by their ear indicating they thought I was crazy. My eyes narrowed. I’d show them. I raised my hand…

Ms. Belle?

Her irritated voice brought me from my thoughts. I flushed as someone snickered. The annoying teacher continued to look at me waiting. She had one black eyebrow raised dramatically over her green eyes. I had a feeling we weren’t going to get along. With a silent sigh, I forced a smile that looked more like a grimace and moved to the front of the room. No use starting off on the wrong foot. I stared at a poster of Cancun, Mexico in the back of the class as I spoke remembering when I was there. I’m Ashlie Belle. I moved here from... Where had I moved from? After years of moving around, I lost track quickly of where I was even with my perfect mind. That happened when one place looked like the next. When one grew bored with life, it didn’t matter where you were. …San Francisco. I wasn’t sure if that was my last location, but I did spend five years there at some point. I started back to my chair, my black wedge heels tapping on the gray tile floor the only sound.

Welcome to Townville High, Ashlie. How do you like our little town?

What was with the Spanish Inquisition? Couldn’t this woman just let me be? I fought the urge to roll my eyes as I took my seat and looked at her. I’ve only been in town a day, but it looks very… quaint. It was the first word that popped into my head.

Quaint! She should go back to San Francisco where she belongs.

I heard the whispered comment from the blonde across the room. I resisted the urge to walk out.

I didn’t care if these people liked me or not. I shot the blonde a quelling look and turned my attention to my notebook. I guess the teacher took the hint. She started class.

Absently, I drew on the paper, wishing I were at home in the comfort of my room. I knew Spanish like the back of my hand, but here I sat taking Spanish 101 for what felt like the hundredth time. I tuned out Mrs. Covar’s high pitched voice. Too bad I didn’t tune out everyone.

Look at her clothes. No one wears designer labels in Townville. She thinks she’s better than us. Just look at her. She’s not even paying attention to Mrs. Covar.

I looked at the irritating blonde out of the corner of my eye. She obviously didn’t realize I could hear her or she didn’t care. Just another part of being a witch, extra sensitive hearing. I rolled my eyes.

When did Old Navy and Gap become designer clothing? She was wearing a green dress with a jeweled collar and gold wedge heels. I glanced at my jeans and baby blue tee. They paled in comparison. I wasn’t one of those dressy, frilly kind of girls. I preferred jeans and a tee. Comfort yet stylish. If anyone looked in my closet they’d see denim, a rainbow of t-shirts, a few hoodies and a couple of pair of khakis. Nothing designer as the snooty blonde implied. I didn’t own a dress or a skirt. That was more Stephenie’s thing. Being the same size if I ever wanted to wear either, I could borrow from her.

Did I think I was better than her? No, I knew it. I’d encountered her type many times in my years of schooling. There was always one group that thought the world revolved around them and only them. The one who ran the school. The IT girl. She had her own group of minions that followed her ever decree. She said what and who was acceptable in the school and if she said you weren’t acceptable, your days were hell. Judging by the look, she shot me I was unacceptable. That suited me fine. Making my life hell would be hard for her. I lived there daily, not that she knew that.

The blonde continued to stare at me while talking to her friends. I ignored her and the nearly overwhelming urge to do a spell on her. I couldn’t call attention to myself. Looking back at my notebook I let my mind wander.

I felt someone’s eyes on me, probably the blonde. I glanced her way. She was finally ignoring me. With a frown, I looked back at my paper trying to ignore it. The feeling increased. Whoever was looking at me was doing so with such intensity the hair on the nape of my neck stood up. A shiver ran up my spine. Another of my witchly attributes. Sensing the feelings of those around me. I could feel the loathing coming from them. Who could feel that way about me? I’d been in town less than a day. With my shoulder length, chestnut-colored hair fanned out around me, I searched the room as inconspicuously as I could.

Encountering a pair of blue eyes staring at me, I looked away. When I looked back, I noticed his eyes were silver, not blue. They seemed to burn me where I sat. I met his gaze refusing to back down.

Who was he and what did he have against me? I expected him to look away, but he didn’t. I grew uncomfortable looking in his unusual colored eyes, finally dropping my gaze. His eyes were burned in my mind. The hatred in them was like a brand on my soul. For some reason, it made me sad. I wasn’t liked everywhere I went, but no one had ever hated me. I never got close enough for anyone to really form an opinion.

When the bell rang, I was more than ready to get out of there. I grabbed my backpack and made my way out with the rest of the students. It was like a human traffic jam. I was pushed from behind, no doubt by Blondie. I stumbled into the boy at my side. His arm closed around my waist preventing me from falling flat on my face. I mumbled a thank you as I looked up. The smile died on my lips as I encountered hostile silver eyes. I stiffened trying to pull away. His hold tightened. The vise-like grip made breathing impossible. I pushed on his hand only to pull my hand away as I came in contact with his cold skin. A frown marred my brow as I looked into his pale face. His ebony hair made his skin almost translucent. He pulled me aside, out of the throng of students.

Steady, he asked? His husky voice sent shivers down my spine.

I detected an accent, but couldn’t place where he was from with just the one word. Staring into his eyes, my heart sped up. Anger still flashed in his eyes, but the hatred was gone. I felt a spurt of happiness which I quickly squashed. How he felt about me wasn’t important. I forced myself to look away, breaking the spell he had on me. I’m fine. Thank you for your help. I glanced down the hall at the blonde. She was laughing as she glanced over her shoulder. I may be unable to do spells at school, but there were no restrictions when I got home. I would find out her name and fix her. I smiled gleefully in anticipation. After years of doing the same spell on the same type of girl, I knew the exact spell I would use. Not prepared for his abrupt release, I stumbled. I turned back to him, putting my annoyance and plans for the girl from my mind. Thank you for rescuing me.

Next time watch what you’re doing, he snapped before walking away.

I sighed. What could I possibly have done to make him dislike me? This was the first time I’d seen him, wasn’t it? I searched my mind as I made my way to my next class. If we’d met before I was certain I would have remembered. I remembered every moment of my life save for…I pushed those thoughts aside. There was no way I knew him. He was the kind of boy you didn’t forget. Even if you developed amnesia you wouldn’t forget him. He was beautiful. I had never liked that word as a way to describe a boy. Girls were beautiful, boys were handsome. But handsome didn’t begin to do him justice. His hair was black as midnight, giving his smooth pale skin a near translucent quality. He was nearly as pale as Stephenie. Judging by his height and build, I would guess he worked out. A lot. I flushed as an image of him lifting weights filled my mind. Shirtless. He was at least a foot taller than me. At five foot six inches, I wasn’t exactly short. He looked older, maybe nineteen. I wonder if he was held back a year or two. His square jawline had a trace of stubble. A five o’clock shadow already? His luscious lips made me wonder what a kiss would be like from him. That thought sent a flush through my entire body.

What was I thinking? Had I lost my mind? His eyes kept taunting me. Their unusual silver color had nearly scorched me with his anger. His voice…there was no way I could forget that voice. Husky, deep with just a trace of his Australian roots. Melbourne, if I had to guess. I shook my head trying to clear my muddled thoughts. I found myself actually looking forward to my next class, hoping he would be in it.

As I took my seat, I realized how stupid I was being. I didn’t even know his name, not that it would matter. He didn’t like me. Why should I be enjoying school just for the hope of seeing him? I dropped my head on my desk. I can do this. I had no choice. If I wanted to stay in town, I had to keep up appearances. I pushed him from my mind.

He was in three of my other classes. He avoided my eyes, but I felt his angry stare when I wasn’t looking. I was relieved when the bell rang. I felt like I’d been in Purgatory for the last seven hours. Then again Purgatory probably would have been preferable. I fought the urge to fly home. If my car were left in the parking lot people would start to talk. Ignoring the curious looks, I made my way through the sea of cars to my blue Pontiac Grand Prix. Quickly checking my mirrors, I backed up.

Getting away from this place and the stare I still felt was my only priority.

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Chapter Two

B eing a witch sucks!

I felt silly yelling at the moon. What would I do if the man in the moon decided to answer back?

What did it matter if he did? After the day I’d had I’d welcome his anger. At least I would know why he hated me. Unlike someone else. I pushed the thought aside and looked at the full moon once more. It felt like I was losing my mind.

Being a witch sucks! I yelled again, wishing by doing so I would feel better. Maybe yelling was the wrong thing to do. Maybe I should howl. Why should wolves have all the fun? Laughter bubbled up in my chest. I must look stupid standing on the ridgepole of the roof screaming at the moon.

Another laugh rumbled through me. Throwing back my head, I howled. I surely looked the fool now.

Good thing I lived in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by hundreds of trees. Heat flooded my face. I would die if anyone saw. If he saw.

Anger flowed through me. Why should I care what he thinks of me? Why should I care if he saw me acting like an escaped lunatic from the nearest asylum? What was he to me? Nothing. The cracking of a twig caught my attention. I turned toward the forest looking into the darkness for what or who had made the sound. My eyes widened as they met his silver glare. I blinked, and he was gone.

Had he really been there? I scanned the trees. I heard another snap of a twig before a deer scampered through my yard. I sighed. I must have imagined him there. Why would he be here in the middle of the woods? My heart did a somersault in my chest as I remembered the unguarded look I’d seen briefly in his eyes as his arm wrapped around my waist earlier. His silver eyes were breathtaking when anger wasn’t in them. I had but a moment of time to enjoy them before he’d looked away. When he looked back the anger had once more been shining brightly.

I was certain my imagination had called him up. He couldn’t have been there. I needed to be more careful. My imagination wasn’t capable of doing spells that I knew of, but there was a first time for everything. Something I had learned from experience. How embarrassing it would have been to have him watching me behave in such a childish fashion. With a sigh, I stepped off the roof landing on the balls of my feet beside the porch. My book bag was waiting where I’d dropped it hours before.

With a muttered curse I grabbed it and headed inside. Memories I’d been fighting all day threatened to overtake me again. Why did I let school bother me?

You could always skip it.

I rolled my violet eyes. Why did she have to choose today of all days to haunt me? Her voice popped into my head again.

Don’t roll your eyes at me!

Go away! I’m not in the mood for your nonsense.

Nonsense! That’s no way to talk to your best friend, Ashlie.

It is when you died seventeen years ago.

Don’t rub it in! What’s put you in such a foul mood? She appeared before me.

I rolled my eyes again. Go haunt someone else, Stephenie. I love you, but I can’t deal with you right now.

I love you too, Ashlie.

Stephenie’s smile was beautiful, her haunting beauty beyond perfection. Sometimes looking at her made my eyes hurt. Long auburn hair cascaded down her back in endless waves. Whiskey-brown eyes with a permanent twinkle peered at me from a heart-shaped face. Her pert nose and pouty lips were perfectly proportioned to her face. She could rival the most beautiful supermodel. If she weren’t a ghost. I loved her as much today as I did when she was flesh and blood. I miss you, Steph.

I’m here, Ashlie, always. What has you down in the dumps? School usually doesn’t stress you out so.

It gets old being the new kid in school over and over. I dropped into my favorite overstuffed blue chair, my book bag forgotten at my feet. I hate being a witch.

Since when? You love being a witch.

Not anymore. Oh, Steph, I long for a normal life.

A frown appeared on her alabaster brow. I can think of only one thing that would cause you such distress. You met a boy!

Leaning back, I closed my eyes. I had been so careful to keep from thinking about him since walking in, knowing she’d see. I’m surprised she hadn’t picked up on my thoughts when I was on the roof. His face floated through my mind. Not exactly. I haven’t officially met him.

Why not?

A strange look crossed her face before it quickly vanished. I didn’t comment on it certain my eyes had played a trick on me. What good would it do? I’m a witch. I can’t have a relationship. Not to mention he hates me, but I didn’t say that aloud.

We’ve been through this before, Ashlie. There is nothing stopping you from living a normal life.

I stared at her. We had been through this more times than I could remember, and she still didn’t understand. Nothing stopping me! How about the fact that I’m a witch. My powers are tied to my emotions. What if I blew him up? What if I blew the house up? What if I froze him? How would I explain to him what I’d done? I sighed. There’s no use beating a dead horse, Steph. I’m not going to risk hurting anyone just for a few minutes of happiness.

A frown marred her brow once again. Beating a dead horse?

I laughed. It’s an expression. You really need to get out more. I sighed as her beautiful face fell. I’m sorry. I know you can’t leave the house. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. Forgive me?

Stephenie smiled. There’s nothing to forgive. Why don’t you give this boy a chance?

It doesn’t matter, Steph. He looks at me like I’m a…a freak. Which I am.

You are not a freak! Even if you were, there is no way he could know. You aren’t very good at reading people, Ashlie. He was probably staring because he thinks you’re pretty.

I rolled my eyes. I seemed to do that a lot lately. Stephenie had a way of getting on my nerves. After all these years what had changed? What was it about her that bothered me now? With a muttered curse, I pushed my thoughts aside. Stephenie was my best friend. Regardless of how annoying she could be at times, I loved her. The last hundred and ninety years would have been lonely without her. The next three hundred and ten would be pure hell. I shuddered at the thought.

You aren’t listening to me! Pay attention, Ashlie! Tell me what this boy said to cause you distress.

He didn’t say anything exactly, Steph. It was the way he looked at me. I could see his piercing silver eyes in my mind. He has these amazing eyes. In all my years, I have never seen eyes that color. They are like liquid mercury. There was this look in his eyes… I shook my head. It was almost like he knew my secret. Like he knew I was a witch.

You’re overreacting. There is no way he could know you’re a witch. Unless….

Unless what?

He’s not human.

I rolled my eyes…again.... Of course he’s human! Why would you think otherwise?

Maybe he sees the real you? The you only others like us can see.

You’re wrong! He’s not like us! He’s not! Only a supernatural being can see the glow. He is human! Witches were revered by many, but feared by more. Long ago a heartbroken wood nymph hybrid went to his father for help cursing witches. Since that day witches had a glow about them, a part of their aura. There must be some other reason. He knows I’m a witch.

You’re being paranoid!

How can you be sure? I showed up at the same time a three-story mansion appears overnight. That’s enough to make anyone wonder.

You are just looking for reasons to make your assumption real. The house appeared overnight, but you cast a spell over the town giving them memories of it being built.

I gave a resigned nod. What if the spell didn’t work on everyone?

Stephenie sighed. You aren’t a novice witch, Ashlie. You’ve been doing this for years. Your spells are foolproof.

Nothing is foolproof, Steph. It doesn’t matter anyway.

You are so stubborn.

Call it what you want. Maybe he thinks he knows something, but isn’t sure. The Manor resided here for two hundred years. His family may have been here when the house was.

Stephenie rolled her blue eyes. The house hasn’t resided here for over seventeen years. No one would make the connection that this is the same house that supposedly burned all those years ago.

Seventeen years is hardly enough time for the people of this town to forget it. In case you haven’t noticed this house is very distinctive. It screams ‘Look at me!’

It’s a house, Ashlie. It doesn’t scream anything. No one recognizes this house from nearly twenty years ago. We changed the color. The gazebo is on the front porch instead of the back. You’re just making excuses, Ashlie. This boy is interested in you.

We had made subtle changes to Mystic Manor, but moving a gazebo and changing the color may not be enough. A three-story Victorian house in this town didn’t stand out as much as it did in more modern cities. Still, I couldn’t keep from worrying. I stood. Arguing with a ghost was as pointless as talking to a wall. No, the wall would be better. At least it didn’t argue back. Goodnight, Stephenie. I trudged up the stairs. Life seemed to get harder instead of easier as the years went by. I didn’t bother with my pajamas. Sleep wasn’t coming for me anytime soon. I dropped onto my wrought-iron canopied bed. Picking up the book from my bedside table I tried to focus. Escaping into the world of vampires and werewolves hopefully would erase the last of my stress.

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I stumbled through the thick brush. He didn’t notice me following him. Where was he going? He glanced over his shoulder. I ducked behind a tree. Had he heard my pursuit? Was I wrong? Did he know I was there? I waited until I heard his footsteps again, before peaking around the tree. He was moving faster now. I ran to keep up, but it was no use. The faster I ran, the further away he got. With a sigh, I stopped, grabbing my side. I doubled over taking deep breaths. My mind was racing with what I’d seen. He moved so fast, it wasn’t normal. I could take to the sky, but I’d forgotten my broom.

I took a deep breath and ran in the direction he’d disappeared. I couldn’t find him anywhere. A noise to my left stopped me in my tracks. I gasped as something ran toward me. It jumped into the air coming for me. A flash of black, silver, and white was all I saw before it landed on me.

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I jerked up in bed, my heart racing. It felt like someone was watching me. I turned on the crystal lamp by my bed, but there was no one there.

You’re being paranoid. She materialized at the foot of my bed.

With a muttered curse I fell back on my pillows. I’m not being paranoid, Steph.

You were talking in your sleep. That’s something I’ve never heard you do.

I was having a nightmare. Something she already knew. I should have realized it wasn’t real when I was upset about not having my broom. I haven’t used a broom since I was five. Don’t worry about it, Steph. I’ll see you in the morning. I turned the light back off. I could feel the cold air coming from her. I shivered. Steph, go haunt the attic or something.

I am not a bat to be condemned to the attics, Ashlie.

I sighed. Some of us have to go to school tomorrow. I need sleep if I’m going to deal with that.

FINE!

I felt bad as she floated through the ceiling, but not bad enough to call her back. Morning would bring another tortuous day of school. I wondered if I could get by with saying I was being home-schooled? I could teach myself new things instead of letting the teachers tell me about things I studied before. Some I’d even lived through. Being a witch, I had a lot of time on my hands. Whenever a new theory was mentioned I researched it until I agreed or disagreed with the experts. What would my teacher do if I went into great detail explaining Einstein’s Theory of Relativity? Would they think I was just trying to cause trouble or would they actually listen to me? Having had a chance to discuss it with him in great detail, I had insight they could only dream about.

I turned onto my side, wanting sleep to claim me. My thoughts were always running away with me. After almost a hundred and ninety years I had plenty to think about. I beat my pillow trying to push all thoughts from my mind. I thought about him, the way it felt that one brief moment when he had me in his arms, pulled against his body. A frown marred my brow. His body had been rock hard. If he worked out as I suspected; he did so daily. No way he could have that hard a body without doing so. I flushed thinking about it. He’d been cold. Even with his long sleeves, I could feel the cold radiating from his skin. Why was he so cold?

If I continued to think about my silver eyed angel I could forget sleep. Mine? When had I started thinking of him that way? He wasn’t mine. Why would I think he was? He could never be mine. I could never risk his life. UGH! With a sigh, I sat up. Sleep was a thing of the past.

Thinking about him and school reminded me of the spell I’d forgotten to do. There was a green-eyed blonde in need of some manners. I shoved my quilt back and climbed out of bed.

I wasn’t surprised to find Stephenie waiting for me in the kitchen. Stephenie had been a gifted witch as well as my best friend when she was alive. She had the ability to read minds and to place her thoughts in my mind. She’d never been able to communicate with humans or any other supernatural beings quite the way she did with me. Even with her mom or mine, she’d never been able to do everything she’d done with me. We had a connection that neither of us understood. Neither of us really questioned it. I remember asking my mother once, but even she couldn’t explain it. It made having private conversations in a room full of people easy. When she died, her gifts had stayed with her. Reading my mind again, Steph?

Stephenie huffed, but said nothing.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I was becoming more and more like my mother. I could remember her rolling her eyes at things I’d done more than I cared to. A pang of sadness filled me until I pushed it away. Mom had forbidden me to mourn her. After all, I’d had longer with her than most kids had with their mother. I’d had a hundred and seventy years with her, almost two lifetimes for normal kids. I was lucky to have had each and every day.

Remembering my best friend, I smiled. Please don’t be mad, Stephie. I’m truly sorry I snapped at you. I knew she couldn’t resist my calling her Stephie.

Her angelic face lit up for a second then she scowled. You sent me to the attic!

I promise never to do that again! I looked at her pleadingly. I had mastered the sad puppy dog eyes over my many, many years. Stephenie couldn’t resist them anymore now than when she was alive.

You’re forgiven! Her smile was so radiant, she momentarily blinded me. Who is Missy?

I gave a frustrated sigh. Enough, Stephenie, get out of my head! Just once can’t we have a conversation like normal people? She knew I preferred to speak my replies to the things she put in my head. I liked to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

Stephenie’s lower lip trembled. If she could cry, tears would be flowing down her cheeks.

Guilt filled me. Stopping what I was doing, I moved to stand before her. I placed my hand over her arm, wishing I could actually touch her. I’m sorry. I don’t know what is wrong with me.

Talk to me, Ashlie. This isn’t like you. You’re snapping at me. You’re having nightmares. Even Netter knows something is wrong. She spoke aloud.

I looked down, searching for my beloved black miniature poodle. She wasn’t at my side where she normally was. A frown marred my brow. Netter? I hadn’t thought of her all day.

Dark brown eyes peeked around the counter at me. The frightened look in her eyes brought tears to mine.

She’s concerned about you. You are so angry. It frightens her.

Having someone who could read minds came in handy at times. I dropped onto the floor and held out my arms toward Netter. Come here, Sweetie.

Netter hesitated.

Tears filled my eyes. It’s okay, Netter. I would never hurt her. She was my best friend. Without her and Stephenie, I would have no one.

Netter walked slowly toward me. Her eyes watched me warily.

I gathered her into my arms hugging her close as I spoke soothingly to her. I love you, Netter. I’m sorry I scared you. I petted her looking at Stephenie as she joined me on the floor.

Stephenie smiled. She wants to know what is wrong. You’ve been acting strange since we arrived. What about Townville bothers you?

I raised my left eyebrow questioningly. She said all that? I knew Netter was smarter than normal dogs, all witches’ familiars were, but I didn’t know she was that smart.

Stephenie laughed. She is smarter than the average witch’s dog, you know.

I looked into those brown, black eyes and saw something I’d never seen before. It was like Netter was looking into my soul. I shook my head in awe. Kissing her furry head, I went back to petting her.

Stephenie looked at me curiously. Well?

I shrugged. I don’t know, Steph. There’s something about this place that bothers me. I can’t put my finger on it, but something isn’t right about this town.

Stephenie’s alabaster brow furrowed. I spent the first decade of my life here, Ashlie. These people are kind, but most importantly, they mind their own business. If they were the nosey type I couldn’t have spent so long here. They didn’t notice I was an infant for ten years.

I laughed. Your mother must not have taken you to town often.

She didn’t. She sighed. I don’t know how mom did it. Having a baby for humans isn’t easy or cheap. But with us, it has to be harder. Imagine how many disposable diapers we would have gone through had they been around back then. She shuddered. I can’t imagine using cloth diapers.

I laughed. It’s a good thing our intelligence increases faster than our bodies. After ten years of diapers we’re only a year old. Imagine how many we’d go through if we didn’t potty train by the time we were one as opposed to the human age of three. I love being a witch. I just wish we aged the same as humans. Spending ten years as a baby and only aging a year every decade is a pain. Being eighteen was great the first year, even the second, but after ten years I’m ready to be nineteen.

A flicker of sadness flashed across Stephenie’s face before she quickly masked it.

I’m sorry, Steph. I shouldn’t have said that.

Stephenie gave me a small smile, but I could tell it was forced. Being frozen at seventeen is every girl’s dream.

Guilt filled me. Stephenie had only just turned seventeen when she died. I didn’t remember what happened exactly, but I felt I was at fault somehow. I’m sorry, Steph. I…

You keep apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault, Ashlie. We’ll never know what happened that day. It was my time otherwise I wouldn’t be dead, right? Mom always said what was meant to be would be. It was my time to go.

I closed my eyes against a new wave of tears. After seventeen years the pain of her loss still hurt. If that’s true why are you still here? You weren’t meant to haunt this house, Steph. You should be with your mom in Heaven or wherever our kind goes when we leave this Earth.

Stephenie sighed. She is in Heaven. I know you aren’t sure of that, but I am. As for my being here, I promised your mom to look after you. I can’t let her down.

Mom wouldn’t have wanted this for you! What happens when I die?

I’ll follow you.

I shook my head. You don’t know that! The thought of Stephenie haunting this house forever brought tears to my eyes. Mom shouldn’t have asked you to babysit me!

Stephenie sighed. We’ve been through this before. Your mother was worried about you being alone. She wanted to make sure you didn’t become a hermit in a cave somewhere. If she’d known I would die so young she wouldn’t have asked me I’m sure.

My mother knew how I felt about relationships and powers. In the end, she’d asked Stephenie to always watch out for me. A witches word was an unbreakable oath once given it couldn’t be taken back. If I’d known I would have stopped her. Knowing me the way only a mother could, she’d spoken the question in her mind so only Stephenie could hear. I had been asleep down the hall none the wiser.

My brow furrowed. Mom had premonitions, Steph. How could she not know you were to… die? The word was still hard for me to say.

She couldn’t foresee everything, Ashlie. My unfortunate demise was one of the things that fell through the cracks. Changing the subject, she said, I thought you hated being a witch.

I sighed. Arguing would change nothing. Yesterday was a bad day.

Why? Does the boy with the silver eyes have something to do with this?

"It’s just this feeling, Steph. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I am paranoid. It’s been almost twenty years since you lived here. If anyone remembers the house, I’ll explain you were a distant relation. That I loved the house and had it rebuilt." Surely that would suffice. How else could I explain the reappearance of a house that supposedly burnt down years ago? Even with the Memory Spell there could be problems. Aunt Elizabeth wouldn’t have taken

Stephenie out often. It would have been even stranger for her to have people over. When you had a secret like ours to keep you didn’t make friends easily. You definitely didn’t bring them into your house. I shook my head. The house has never returned to the same place before. Maybe that’s what irritates me.

Sadness filled blue eyes. If not for me you wouldn’t be moving the house as well as yourself.

I reached for her hand, sighing as my hand went through hers. I returned to petting Netter. I couldn’t do this without you. You are my best friend, ghost or not. As much as I disagreed with what my mom had asked, I was glad I wasn’t alone. I smiled. Besides moving a house is much easier than packing and unpacking all this stuff. I looked around at all that had been accumulated through my hundred and ninety years, not to mention Stephenie’s stuff and our mothers.

Stephenie laughed. Good point. No more stalling. Who is Missy and why are you doing that spell on her?

Remembering the spell, I petted Netter one last time and sat her off my lap. I stood, grabbing the tabletop cauldron from where I kept it hidden beneath the sink. Missy is this annoying blonde I met today. Do you remember Michaela in Seattle? I pictured a green-eyed brunette knowing Stephenie would see her in my head.

Stephenie nodded.

Michaela was the IT girl our first time through high school. From day one she’d decided we weren’t good enough. I was easier going back then doing everything I could not to call attention to myself. Stephenie was the opposite. She liked the attention the boys paid her. Being long-legged, auburn-haired with mysterious brown eyes, she turned many heads. Being a witch was the best according to her. Of course, her powers weren’t tied to her emotions. When Michaela saw the looks Stephenie received from half the boys in the school, she set out to make our lives hell.

I ignored her, but Stephenie wouldn’t. The first day in the cafeteria we sat at a table by ourselves. Within minutes the football team surrounded the table flirting with Stephenie. I was used to the boys fawning over her. If anyone said something to me, I ignored them, much to Stephenie’s dismay. I wasn’t interested in getting to know a boy when I couldn’t have a relationship with him. Michaela was dating the quarterback, but he had left her side to hit on Stephenie. That was all it took for our lives to become the focus of her latest malice. By the end of the day, rumors were going around that we were a couple. Personally, I ignored them, but Stephenie decided to get even.

That night I watched her throw together the weirdest collection of ingredients I’d ever seen, and I’d seen some pretty weird ingredients being a witch. When she pulled out the Magia Incantesimi Libro, Book of Enchantments, I got my first look at the spell that had come to be a lifeline for me. Magia, as we had taken to calling it, had become almost a part of the family. It was double the size of a normal book in height and width. Made of a brown animal’s skin, it had a faded design that was hard to make out on the front. It was so old even Stephenie’s mom, Elizabeth hadn’t known what the design had once been. Magia had been in Stephenie’s family since the beginning of time. Upon Stephenie’s passing, she had left Magia in my care.

Anger flashed in Stephenie’s eyes as she saw what Missy had said and done to me. Did you remember to get the eye of newt? In her anger, she forgot we’d been talking like normal people and once more put her thoughts in my head.

With a sigh, I ignored it. I’ve got it right here. I couldn’t find the hair of bat. Do you know where we put it last time?

Stephenie flitted to the white cabinets sticking her head through first one door then another until she found it. Here it is.

I laughed at her. Thanks. She moved aside so I could open the door. There on the top shelf was the purple bottle I was looking for.

I began putting the ingredients in the cauldron as the gas burner heated it. Without touching the wooden spoon, I twirled my finger in the air. The spoon began to stir within the cauldron. I grabbed Magia and flipped to the dog-eared page.

As many times as we’ve used that spell, we should know it by heart.

I laughed. I do, but I don’t want to risk messing it up. Remember that time we reversed two words and ended up turning that girl in Michigan into a goat for a day. I don’t want that to happen again.

Stephenie laughed. I remember. If I’d had my way she would have remained a goat for the rest of her days.

Be nice. Mom would have had my head if I’d kept a goat in the house.

Who said we’d have kept her in the house?

I laughed as I shook my head. As annoying as she was, I don’t think I would have wanted her for a pet. Netter would have been jealous. I looked at the bubbling concoction in the cauldron. It’s ready. Closing my eyes, I pictured my enemy before reciting the spell.

"Hateful, mean and spiteful as can be.

You torture those around you including me.

Time to change your hurtful ways

To become sweet and kind for the rest of your days.

No malice or injustice must you do.

From this day forward and your whole life through."

Did it work? Stephenie looked at me questioningly.

I frowned. Why wouldn’t it?

Stephenie shrugged. You seem to think your spells aren’t working, so…

I never said that!

She rolled her eyes. You said he knew you were a witch. The only way that could be true is if your spell failed.

I threw the wooden spoon at her. It sailed right through crashing into the sky blue wall behind her.

She laughed. Seriously? Childish much? I’m only pointing out how silly your fears are. She vanished.

I picked up Netter and returned to my room. Do you think she’s right, Netter? Am I being silly?

She says yes!

I didn’t ask you!

Her laughter infuriated me all the more. Ignoring her, I put my iPod headphones in hoping the music would drown her out. With a yawn, I placed Netter at my side. Closing my eyes, I relaxed. The last sound I heard was Stephenie singing along.

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Chapter Three

History, my favorite subject. I took a seat in the rear of the room. As the teacher, Mrs. Yenchko, began class I saw him look at me from the corner of my eye. He kept staring at me. Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I glanced down at my jeans and coral baby doll tee. Nothing appeared out of place. His eyes continued to watch me. I glared at him hoping he’d look away. He returned my glare. Anger coursed through me. What is your problem, I hissed?

He continued to stare at me unblinking.

I turned back to the teacher. Beneath my desk I snapped my fingers, freezing the room. He was frozen with his eyes on me. It was unnerving. I stood shaking from my anger. Pacing up and down the aisle I muttered to myself. Why does he hate me? I’ve been here all of two days and every time he sees me he looks like he wants to kill me. Two Days! Is he that way with everyone or am I just lucky? The more I muttered the calmer I became. With a sigh, I returned to my seat and unfroze the room. I chanced a glance at him. His eyes were a darker silver, nearly charcoal. They reminded me of the mercury in a thermometer. A frown marred his normally smoothe forehead. Finally, he looked away.

A part of me was relieved to no longer have his unnerving gaze on me, but another part of me longed for him to look my way again. I sighed. With a start, I realized all eyes were on me. Except his. I looked at the teacher to find her watching me, waiting for me to answer. Damn, what had I missed? Could you repeat the question? It would have been nice to have Stephenie there, she could have just read Mrs. Yenchko’s mind. Then no one would have known I wasn’t paying attention.

I didn’t miss the flash of annoyance in Mrs. Yenchko’s pale blue eyes. Name the two generals that met at Appomattox courthouse in 1865?

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Seriously, that was the question? That was so middle school. Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee. Ask me something hard I wanted to say. I’d been two years shy of my fortieth witch year when the Civil War began. By human years my body was only three, but my mind was that of an adult human. I could tell her a thing or two about the Civil War. I looked down as a grin covered my face. What would she do if General Lee showed up? Maybe I should bring Ulysses S. Grant in for show and tell. A laugh escaped me.

Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Ms. Belle?

It looked like I’d made an enemy. Forcing an angelic innocent smile on my face, I looked at her. No, Ma’am. I felt his eyes on me again. I kept my eyes on the teacher determined not to let him bother me anymore.

The second the bell rang, I hurried from the room. It felt like the walls were closing in on me. I barely managed to keep from running to my car.

Leaning my head against the headrest, I closed my eyes. Breathe, Ashlie, just breathe. My heart began to race. I could feel his gaze. My eyes flew open. I searched the two-story rust-colored building moving from window to window. It looked more like a prison than a school. The only thing missing were the bars and a fence around the building to keep the inmates in. I found him in a window on the second floor. His eyes met mine. Once more I saw blue eyes when I looked at him. I blinked. His eyes were back to being silver. It must have been my imagination yet it had happened before. Why? He didn’t look away. I couldn’t shake the feeling he knew my secret. I quickly backed out of the parking spot and sped away. My prison and my tormenter in my rear view.

I just wanted to get away from his eyes. I could still feel them when I pulled up at my house. Stephenie! I called out to her in my mind.

She appeared instantly on the porch, her eyes full of anxiety. What’s wrong? She attempted to come toward me, but an unseen barrier, some kind of force field, kept her from stepping off the porch. Being tied to the house meant going no further than the porch.

I slammed my car door, not caring if I broke the window.

What’s wrong? The way you called me nearly scared me to death.

Her words were so ridiculous, I laughed. You’re already dead, Steph.

Stephenie rolled her eyes. You know what I meant. What are you doing home in the middle of the day?

I dropped down onto the wooden swing in the gazebo on the porch. He knows, Steph! I don’t know how, but he knows I’m a witch. Absently I ran my hand along the seam of my jeans. I was too agitated to sit still.

Stephenie sat beside me, smoothing her yellow sundress as she turned to me. Not this again! How can he know? Who is this boy?

I frowned. I never heard his name.

Stephenie laughed. You’re freaking out over a boy you don’t even know. That’s not like you. You must really like him.

I don’t like him!

She gave me her most annoying smile, a slight curve to the edge of her full lips causing a dimple to appear on her left cheek. I hated that smile. She only used it when she knew she was right. I don’t know him, Steph. I don’t like him. I abandoned the seam for imaginary lint on my t-shirt.

You’ve been agitated ever since you saw him yesterday. You even dreamed about him, something I’ve never known you to do. Tell me about him.

I closed my eyes. His face popped into my mind without me even thinking about him.

OH MY!

Her startled response had my eyes popping open. What?

She shook her head. Nothing.

She was hiding something. I could see it in her eyes. She

was shocked by what she’d seen in my head. Why? Did she know him?

The alarmed look in her eyes faded. She smiled that annoying smile. I don’t know him, Ashlie.

I sighed. Why’d you react that way?

Stephenie rolled her eyes. Honestly, Ash, what’s with the inquisition? I was surprised he was so…so hot.

The way she paused before saying hot made me doubt her explanation. With a muttered curse I accepted her excuse. I knew she heard my doubts in my mind, but she wouldn’t comment on them. Why is that so shocking? A frown marred my brow.