Witches 3: A Timeless Story, #3

By Susan Catalano

A woman who sold her soul to the Devil…
A girl with the ability to find all things lost, no matter how painful…
A witch seeking a power that has been hidden in time…

Shunned by society, Trinka's paranoia drives her hunger to read minds and exact revenge. A dance with the Devil grants her wish… almost.

Corinne spends her childhood trying to repel her mother's mind games and hone her own talent—the ability to find. But when tragedy strikes, Corinne realizes that objects aren't the only things one can lose, and all things found come with a price.

An insatiable determination to achieve greatness sets Vanessa on a path that leads to Salem and unites her with Trinka and Corinne. The unlikely partners must work together to reach a common goal to fortify the Devil so that he will fulfill their desires. 

This is the story of the Witches 3.

 

 

(Witches 3 is a companion story to The Timeless Ones series)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Catalano
• Release date: Mar 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9798215547281

Book preview

1

WITCH ONE

The first time Katrina English saw the Devil, she was as naked as daylight. She slipped past silent homes, pausing to light her lantern once she was a safe distance from anyone who might be looking out a darkened window. She marched into the woods, lantern held high, to an area where seven massive oak trees formed a ring around a smooth patch of dirt.

After shedding her clothes, she stepped boldly into the circle and stretched her arms toward the black halo of sky that peeked through the canopy of leaves formed by those seven trees. She pushed up on her toes and reached toward the night, willing the Devil to join her. She would be his witch. She would perform whatever deed he asked. She would gladly serve him.

Of course, she wanted payment for her soul.

For many years, Katrina had dutifully attended church, twice during the week and for three hours on Sundays. She would trudge the mile to the meetinghouse alongside neighbors who not only disregarded her but gave her a wide berth when she walked by. She sat beside those same people, ignoring their furtive looks of disdain. She prayed, did penance, sacrificed, and prayed some more, all to no avail. God had never answered.

Why would he? She was a sinner among sinners. She could do nothing to earn merit in His eyes. She would never be His choice as one who was worthy of salvation.

For some sins were greater than others. Some sins went far deeper than consuming one drink too many or speaking a curse aloud. Some sins were beyond forgiveness.

Her sin had unfolded like a springtime bud, small and silent, unnoticed until fully bloomed. It didn't matter that she had not intended the outcome. When she'd poisoned Jonas Parker, she had been blinded by the desire to keep him from marrying Constance Lancaster.

It wasn't that Katrina had wanted him for herself. By eighteen, her preadolescent chubbiness had turned into the soft curves of a woman. Her long, blond hair often spilled over her shoulders, landing upon the swell of her breast unless she braided it or shoved it under her coif. Men had responded to her beauty, and they still did, even now when they both feared and desired her. She'd always had her choice of suitors.

Jonas had been Katrina's friend since they played together while their mothers mended their husbands’ clothes or wove blankets. Jonas had always been a sensitive child, hurt easily with a mean word, never uttering one himself.

Katrina protected him from the taunts of other boys, as Jonas grew up a bit too frail for farm work and with a great aversion to hunting. He abhorred the killing of animals. Katrina often teased him, saying he would rather starve and turn the world over to rabbits than kill one to survive. Jonas rarely ate meat; she suspected such habits contributed to his frailty.

Whatever the reason, Katrina admired him for his convictions. He never tattled on her when she complained about her chores. Sometimes, he even helped her do them. He'd been there to hold her hand when Peter Wayfair chose another girl to dance with at his sister's wedding. Jonas's warm hand in hers was one of the few things Katrina cherished.

Simply put, Constance Lancaster was not worthy of him. But Jonas was smitten. Katrina saw how Constance looked at him with barely concealed distaste, completely opposite of the look she bestowed upon Edward Ridley. But a betrothal to Edward wouldn't improve Constance's financial situation or move her up the social scale like one to Jonas Parker would.

Katrina tried to warn him, but her attempts only damaged their friendship while bolstering his relationship with Constance. The only way to stop the impending betrothal was to get rid of Constance Lancaster.

Katrina had always found healing with plants and herbs interesting, so much so that she'd ingratiated herself upon the local midwife in an apprenticeship of sorts. Fascinated by the combinations of plants that could be used for healing, Katrina also found that many were toxic and, unless used properly, could cause sickness or even death. Some, such as moonseeds, were merely meant for death. Katrina first noticed the woody vine winding around the wide base of a giant oak in the woods while searching for foxglove to replenish Goody Bunnel's stores. She didn’t recall the white-green flowering vine until Constance talked of a wedding date.

Swinging her large woven basket as she trudged up the slight incline, Katrina fought the muddy slope from sucking the shoes off her feet. Aside from the muck, the sun had transformed the landscape into a glistening jewel. Light shimmered and swayed as leaves, heavy with raindrops, shivered and sprayed their wet burden. Fresh green grass sparkled, and the small round watering hole at the base of a nearby hill shone like a mirror in the sun.

Having reached the top of the incline, Katrina shielded her eyes against the brightness of the day as she surveyed the young trees about twenty paces ahead. Woody vines choked the spindly oaks, while a mass of green leaves and clusters of blue fruit devoured their host. Katrina reached up, standing on tippy toes, and plucked a grape from a healthy cluster. She smushed the grape between her thumb and forefinger, revealing three small seeds. Safe. She popped the fruit into her mouth and licked the juice that had dripped down her palm and onto her wrist. Her face twisted at the tartness on her tongue before settling into a satisfied smirk.

She continued past the small trees and walked toward the oaks that formed a nearly perfect circle in the woods, her shoes squelching with each step on the wet path.

The moonseeds’ frail white flowers had been replaced with bunches of small round fruit that looked exactly like the grapes behind her. She twisted the thick stem, using her thumbnail to sever the cluster from the vine, then plucked a berry from it. She crushed the purple globe between her fingers, juice dripping down the side of her hand like blood from a wound. The telltale crescent-shaped