Heirloom Magic: Every Witch Way (4 page)

She tossed
everything upside down until she found a sharp pair of handheld garden snips.
Harper seized them, ramming one side of the blade between her skin and the ring
as she began to furiously snip at the metal band. The ring began to turn red,
and Harper had to swallow her fear. It was starting to get angry! “Come on you
devil ring!” Harper shouted at it as sweat poured off her forehead with the effort.
A splash of sweat landed on the ring and it sizzled. Harper screamed again when
the garden shears turned to ash in her hand. The ring looked virtually
untouched.

Harper shook the
ash from her hands and ran out of the shed, back into the yard. Her fingers
fumbled to pull her cellphone from her pocket. She scrolled through her caller ID
until she came across the lawyer’s number—thankful he had insisted she take it
this afternoon—and then she called. She didn’t care if she sounded crazy
anymore. He was the one who had delivered her this devil ring, and he could
take it back.

“Hello?” came the
masculine voice on the other side of the line, and Harper lost it.

“Mr. Bell…” was all
she managed to get out before she started to hyperventilate.

“–I’ll be right
there,” Mr. Bell said calmly.

Harper heard a
click, and then she was left staring at her phone and praying he wouldn’t be
very long. She sank miserably down to her knees in the grass, and that’s where
Mr. Bell found her five minutes later when his dark sedan screeched to a halt,
half on the curb.

“Harper?” Mr. Bell
said, forgetting to say Miss. Jones, and Harper glanced up at him with tears in
her eyes.

“This ring…”
Harper mumbled, bursting into sobs. “It’s possessed.”

Mr. Bell awkwardly
patted her on the back. “This is a hard thing,” he sympathized. “Did you finish
reading the letter?” he asked, and Harper shook her head. “That might be a good
place to start?” he suggested, and again Harper shook her head. The idea of
going back into that house was terrifying.

“I’m scared,”
Harper admitted, looking at the house like it was going to grow fangs and eat
her. Mr. Bell sighed.

“I promise you.
There is nothing inside the house that can hurt you,” he told her, and Harper
shook her head. “By your own admittance, it is the ring that you fear and no
matter where you go, the ring will also go…” Mr. Bell pointed out, and Harper
paused. It was true, everything terrible that had happened was from the ring
and it had followed her out here. The letter might be the only way to gain some
insight into what was happening to her.

“Okay,” Harper
said shakily, and Mr. Bell grinned.

“That’s a good
girl,” he encouraged her, reaching down and yanking her to her feet like she
weighed nothing. Harper clung to his arm and together they made their way back
into the house. It wasn’t the proudest day for feminism, but having the hulking
giant beside her made Harper feel safer.

They found the
letter on the table where she’d left it. Mr. Bell picked it up and, after
pressing Harper into a chair, he handed it over.

Harper took a deep
breath and peered down at her gran’s writing.

Make sure you
are sitting flat on the floor when you speak the words, the seizures can be a
real bitch.

Harper blinked.
She’d never heard her gran use such language, but it was undoubtedly her
handwriting. “That would have been nice to know before I said the words,” she muttered
grumpily, wishing her gran was here right now so she could badger her with a
thousand questions.

If you’ve done
as I asked, then you have now ignited the spark. It wasn’t pleasant, and I’m
sorry. I nearly bit my tongue clean off when I went through it. Hopefully your
experience was better. In the off chance that you did bite your tongue off, I
have a great spell for reattaching it in my spell book. Page 347.

Harper glared at
the paper, was this supposed to be some sort of joke?

The spell book is
in the bag and it contains everything you’ll ever need to know from our rich
family history to any spell, charm, or enchantment you could ever hope to cast,
will be in there. Each generation eventually adds a few of their own, and I
know in time you will be able to add to the book as well.

I love you
darling. Please remember that this is the greatest gift on earth, and not the
curse that it may feel like right now.

Harper stared at
the paper, flipping it over to see if something else had been written on the
back. “That’s it?” she demanded with a grimace. “I still don’t understand!” she
shouted.

Mr. Bell, who had
been reading over her shoulder, put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You
will probably understand more when you go through the book,” he suggested, and
Harper began to feel anger burn in her belly. Was she really supposed to
believe that she was a witch based on one crazed letter from beyond the grave?
It seemed like the thing everyone wanted her to believe, and there had been
that weird electrical shock earlier... but, it couldn’t be true. Her fingers
tightened on the paper as she thought back over what her gran had written. It
appeared that her gran had known about this and had kept it from her on
purpose…

“Whoa!” Mr. Bell
shouted suddenly, making Harper glance up at him in surprise. He was staring at
the paper in her hands. Harper realized quickly, when it burnt her finger, that
it was on fire.

“Holy shit!”
Harper yelped as she dropped the paper and jumped back. Mr. Bell swept the
paper to the floor with his palm and then viciously stomped it out. He picked
the paper up and held it out to her when he was done. It wasn’t burnt too
terribly, most of Gran’s writing was still legible, just singed around the
edges.

“Did that thing
just self-destruct?” Harper squeaked, refusing to take it. Mr. Bell held it up
to his nose and took a couple deep sniffs.

“I don’t think it
was spelled to destroy itself… I think you got angry and lit it on fire,” he suggested
in an even tone, and Harpers eyebrows rose up towards her hair.

“You think I did
that?” she asked incredulously, and Mr. Bell nodded almost apologetically.
Harper shook her head in denial.

“I couldn’t have…”
she said, though a small nagging voice in her head also accused her. She had
felt a surge of power that had come with the anger.

“I think we should
be careful until we know more,” Mr. Bell suggested diplomatically, and Harper
latched onto that idea and nodded in agreement.

A huge thump made
Harper jump about a foot in the air just as she was reaching for the spell book.
She snatched her hand back and clung, instead, to Mr. Bell. The buff lawyer
didn’t jump, but his head did whip around, and both of their eyes landed on the
floor as they pinpointed the source of the noise.

The basement. “I
have a possum down there,” Harper said glumly, finally remembering that she had
to do something about it eventually. She stared at Mr. Bell hopefully—he was a
big, strapping man who looked more than capable of putting a hit out on a
possum…

Mr. Bell’s
nostrils flared, and his face darkened with fury. “That isn’t a possum,” he
roared as he took off. He pulled so hard that the entire basement door came off
in his hand. The polite lawyer was nowhere to be seen; he didn’t even apologize
as he flung the door across the room and took off into the darkness, four steps
at a time. Harper swallowed visibly, pausing to grab her bat from beside the
couch and flip on the basement lights before she followed him down. It wouldn’t
be very polite to wait at the top of the stairs and let her guest do all the
work—even if that was exactly what the fear center in her brain was shrieking
at her to do.

Harper paused at
the bottom of the stairs and took a moment to pinpoint Mr. Bell. His hulking
frame was taking up most of the doorway to her gran’s wine cellar, which was
also missing its door. Man, this guy was hard on things.

Harper squeezed in
beside Mr. Bell and stopped, her jaw dropping as she gaped at the man shackled
to the wall. He was shirtless and his body was emaciated looking. Harper could
count every single rib, though he was definitely still alive. His eyes landed
on Harper and even though he looked horrible, his eyes were bright with
curiosity as they examined her from head to toe.

“What in the hell
are you doing here?” Mr. Bell roared at the man chained to the wall, and Harper
was stunned. Why in the hell was he yelling at the guy who was obviously the
victim in all of this? Harper put a restraining arm on Mr. Bell’s arm, but he
shook her off.

The man on the
wall ignored Mr. Bell and eyed the pink bat Harper was holding with a faint
smile. “What are you going to do with that? Smack me back to the Barbie dream
house?” he mocked, and Harper moved closer to the guy, setting the bat down so
he wouldn’t be scared. Of course she wasn’t going to hit him—it was obvious
he’d been through enough. Guilt ate at her when she remembered the way she’d
put off coming down here. What kind of weird shit had her gran been into?

“Get away from
him!” Mr. Bell roared, and for a minute, Harper thought she saw his eyes
glowing yellow. Harper shook her head. It was probably just the light
reflecting off the bottles…

Harper took
another step closer, and the guy on the wall fanged out. Harper gasped when she
saw the deadly pair of glistening white fangs that suddenly popped from his
mouth. Mr. Bell rushed forward and flung Harper behind him, knocking her to the
ground with his exuberance.

The guy on the
wall hissed at Mr. Bell, and then suddenly Mr. Bell was getting even larger.
His bones cracked loudly and he let out a grunt of pain as thick hair began to
sprout from every visible place on his body. His spine bent and cracked loudly.
When he fell to all fours, his nails elongated into razor-sharp claws. Harper
blinked. A wolf was standing in front of her. It was so terrifying that Harper
let out a girly scream, and the wolf spun around to face her. He took one step
towards her, and Harper picked up the pink bat off the floor and threw it, as
hard as she could, at his face as she back pedaled, trying to get away.

The wolf caught
the bat easily in his massive jaws, like a Labrador with his favorite stick,
and bit the bat clean in half, spitting out splinters. Harper finally scrambled
to her feet and turned to run, her foot catching on a loose piece of concrete,
and she fell head first into the wine rack. Wine rained down on her head as a
large piece of glass lodged into her forehead, making her moan. Harper
struggled against unconsciousness and lost.

Her eyes flickered
shut just as Mr. Bell shifted back into human form, completely naked, his
clothing shredded to bits.

“Now you’ve done
it,” the vampire chained to the wall mocked, and Mr. Bell growled at him.

“Shut up, blood
sucker,” he demanded, but the vampire was having too much fun. He’d been locked
down here for nearly two weeks, wasting away.

“Flea bag idiot,” he
managed to get out before the werewolf’s enormous fist crashed into his face,
indenting the back of his head into the concrete wall.

“I haven’t seen
you in fifty years, and you’re still just as annoying,” Mr. Bell huffed as he
picked the unconscious form of his charge up off the floor and carried her
upstairs. This was going to take A LOT of explaining.

Chapter Four

“Don’t lie, you wanted me dead just like everyone else—you voted to have
me staked,” a male voice hissed, stirring at Harper’s subconscious.

“So what if I did?
You deserved it,” another voice argued back, adding a low growl to each word
for emphasis, and Harper struggled to find the light at the end of the very
dark tunnel. She blinked several times, her head aching like someone had taken
a hammer to her skull. She felt nauseous, and all around her reeked of booze.

Her groan alerted
the two men that she was awake, finally, and the vampire came to lean over her
expectantly. Harper finally got her eyes open for good, and her world came
sharply into focus, bringing with it a splitting headache. She stared at the
two men looking down at her and remembrance flooded back.

Harper opened her
mouth and let out a girly scream that made her headache increase tenfold.
“You’re m…monsters!” she stuttered, trying to sit up, but only succeeding in
giving herself the spins. She grabbed her head and sank back down onto the
pillow. She was pretty sure she had a concussion. If they were going to kill
her, she had no way of stopping them.

Mr. Bell came over
and sat down gently on the chair beside her bed, making it creak loudly in
protest. He was wearing a large floral sheet wrapped around his hulking frame,
toga style. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Harper would have burst out
laughing.

“This isn’t the way
we wanted to introduce you to our world,” Mr. Bell said, shaking his head in
remorse. Harper stared at Mr. Bell. He looked completely normal now, well,
minus the toga, but it was almost easy to think she’d dreamed the whole thing.

“Is this a dream?”
she asked, praying it was true, and the man they’d found chained to the wall
nodded emphatically.

“It was, yes,” he told
her at the same time Mr. Bell shook his head.

“It was not,” Mr.
Bell shot the man an angry look. “Jasper, you shouldn’t lie to her. It will not
help in the long run,” Mr. Bell said, aiming the last part at the stranger.

Jasper shrugged
and walked over to lean against the dresser as he watched her.

“What are you?”
Harper asked, staring at the man in morbid curiosity. He looked much better
than he had when they’d found him chained to the wall. He had been pale and
gaunt and looked on the verge of death, but now he had filled back out. He was
well muscled, though on the lean side, and his skin had a healthy rose glow.

Jasper looked at
Mr. Bell as though for permission, and the wolf gave a quick jerk of his head
like it pained him. Jasper grinned down at Harper and flashed just a hint of
fang. “To answer your question, love, I’m a vampire,” he said, waiting
gleefully for the shrieks of terror. They didn’t come.

Jasper glanced
down at the young woman on the bed and frowned. “Why aren’t you screaming?” he demanded,
making Harper shrug helplessly.

“Why did my grandmother
have you chained to a wall?” she fired back, but the vampire just shrugged,
refusing to answer.

“All I’m saying
is, you screamed when you saw the werewolf… why wouldn’t a vampire make you
scream twice as loud?” he continued like she hadn’t just asked him a question,
and Harper blinked at the man… no, vampire, she corrected herself. It still
seemed too crazy to be true. He seemed so genuinely upset that she didn’t find
him as terrifying as Mr. Bell that Harper briefly debated giving him a pity
scream, but at this point it would probably just seem forced, and more
importantly, it would hurt her head.

“How long was I
unconscious?” she asked, trying to get past the terrifying hurdle that she was
tucked into bed next to two supernatural killers—at least in books and movies
they were killers. So far they hadn’t made any moves towards her.

Mr. Bell checked
the alarm clock on the bedside table before replying. “About fifteen minutes.”

Harper was
stunned. She’d never been knocked unconscious before in her life, so fifteen
minutes seemed like an eternity to her right now. She glanced over at the
vampire suspiciously—fifteen minutes wasn’t long enough to explain why he was
looking so plump and healthy all of a sudden…

“Why do you look
like that?” she asked, fear coming through her words, and the vampire grinned.
Finally.

“I fed,” Jasper
answered, liking the way her eyes bulged out of her head in fear. He could tell
she was wondering if vampires really drank blood.

“Blood?” she
stammered, and Jasper put forth his best effort to appear sinister as he nodded
slowly.

Harper’s hands flew
to her neck as she began to prod her skin, looking for puncture marks. She
craned her neck to stare down at her body and let out a piercing wail that had
all three of them grimacing in pain. “Did you suck my blood?” Harper managed to
squeak out, and the vampire burst out laughing.

“I like you,
you’re funny. Your gran wasn’t nearly as funny.” He saw her eyes bulge further
when he failed to answer the question. “Of course not,” he sighed finally. “I
used a blood of bag and a glass. I’m not a complete savage,” he stopped and
looked sideways at Mr. Bell with a smirk “–not anymore anyway...”

Mr. Bell rolled
his eyes at the vampire’s antics, and Harper stared down at her red-soaked
shirt that was clinging to her torso like a second skin. “Why am I covered in blood
then?” she demanded. She felt no pain, but maybe it was all part of a vampire’s
thrall.

Jasper burst out
laughing, unable to hold it back, and even Mr. Bell looked slightly
uncomfortable. “That is not blood!” the vampire gasped, clutching his sides.
“It’s your gran’s best cabernet sauvignon. You tripped and fell headfirst into
an entire shelf of the stuff.”

The details of her
fall suddenly came rushing back, and Harper blushed as red as the wine on her
shirt. “Right,” she mumbled. She grabbed her pounding head and wished the pain
would subside—it didn’t. “I still don’t understand how all of this is possible,”
she said, needing to rehash it. She looked at Mr. Bell again, studying the
worry lines on his face. “You’re a wolf,” she said baldly, and he nodded
seriously, no hint of a joke on his face.

“Yes, and you are
a witch,” he told her again, speaking slowly like she was a small child.

“And I’m a vampire,”
Jasper quipped, sounding bored. “Now that we’ve all been introduced…” Harper
and Keaton turned twin looks of disapproval on him and he sighed. “Fine. I hear
your annoying little friend has just arrived. I’ll go let her in,” he told them
with a huff and disappeared quicker than Harper’s eyes could follow.

“Who’s here?”
Harper demanded, feeling a wave of fear at being left alone with Mr. Bell—not
that a vampire is the ideal buffer against a werewolf anyway.

“I have asked
Mallory over. She is bringing some things from your gran’s… your apothecary. It
will help with the pain in your head.” Harper blinked.

“Is Mallory a
witch too?” she asked, and Mr. Bell shook his head.

“Witches are
actually quite rare. You are the only one in town. Mallory is a vampire.”

Harper felt her
head spin at that little tidbit. “But I thought vampires couldn’t be in the
sun?” she questioned, remembering Mallory taking her to view Gran’s store
earlier.

Mr. Bell smiled
gently. “That is just folklore, made up by Hollywood and bored authors. You
will find a lot of discrepancies between fiction and reality the deeper you
delve into your gift.”

Harper wanted to
ask more questions, but Mallory was suddenly standing in the doorway looking
hesitant. “Are you okay?” she asked, and Harper nodded, even though it hurt her
head. Mallory took a step closer, watching Harper closely for any sign of fear.

“This whole thing
is a bit surreal,” Harper admitted, giving Mallory a weak smile that seemed to
reassure her of her welcome. Mallory smiled tremulously.

“You’ll be okay,” she
promised, rushing over to Harper’s bedside like an overeager puppy.

Harper was
surprised, but she didn’t feel any fear when she looked at the smiling young
woman she had met earlier that day.

“I brought you
some potions left over from your gran that will help,” Mallory said, pulling a
brown paper bag from her purse and setting three small glass vials out on the
bed.

“What is it?”
Harper asked, eying them skeptically.

“This first one is
to help heal your concussion,” Mallory said, pouring it into a small Styrofoam
cup that she had also brought with her. “This is to help with the pain, and the
third is just to help you relax so you will be able to process all of this
without terror being your main emotion.” She dumped the rest of the potions
into the cup and topped it off with a splash of ginger ale. “And some ginger to
tie it all together,” she said with a wink at Harper.

Harper picked the
cup up and sniffed it suspiciously. It smelled rich with herbs that Harper
couldn’t identify, and it bubbled slightly, which she also found a little
concerning.

“Maybe you guys
should just take me to the doctor,” she said, but Mallory shook her head.

“The medical way
will mean a much longer healing time, and it won’t be nearly as affective,” she
took the cup from Harper’s lips and swallowed a small sip to prove to her that
she hadn’t poisoned it. “Once mixed, you only have a few minutes before the
concoction will be rendered useless,” she urged, pressing the cup to Harper’s
lips.

Harper was so weak
that she could do nothing more than swallow down the sweet, syrupy liquid that
poured down her throat. The ginger ale had an odd taste, but it wasn’t exactly
unpleasant.

Harper felt a
buzzing in her skull as soon as she’d swallowed it, and a wave of pain streaked
through her temple, blooming behind her eyes until she thought her head was going
to explode. She let out a small shriek of pain and clutched her head. Almost
instantly, a warm feeling washed along in its wake and erased any memory of the
pain.

Mallory winced.
“Sorry about that. I should have mixed it in the order the potions were needed,
pain management first… your gran was really the one that did most of this
stuff.” She sent Harper an apologetic look, but Harper waved it away. The pain
was gone and it was a miracle. Harper stared up at the three people staring
anxiously back at her and smiled. They didn’t seem as terrifying anymore,
though her brain still warned her to be cautious. She was more curious than
anything else.

“So…I’m really a
witch?” she asked them, just to double check, and all three of them nodded.
Harper struggled to sit up, and Mallory was beside her in an instant to help
her. She didn’t even hesitate before taking the vampire’s hand. Harper was
actually able to sit up this time without any dizziness or nausea. “That really
worked fast!” Harper exclaimed as she sat with her feet swung off the edge of
the bed.

“Your gran was the
most skilled potion maker I’ve ever seen,” Mr. Bell said, and the two vampires
nodded in agreement. Harper felt a small swell of pride, of course she was.

“I think I’m ready
to stand up now,” Harper announced and was surprised when nobody argued.
Mallory helped her to her feet. After a couple short, shuffling steps, Harper
had her balance back and felt as good as new.

“This is really
crazy,” Harper told them with a grin, and Jasper blinked, surprised by the
complete change to her attitude.

“How much of that
relaxer did you give her?” he asked Mallory with a grin, and Mallory held up
her thumb and finger to show just a little bit—though Harper didn’t miss the
considerable widening of her fingers when she thought Harper had looked away.

Harper realized
that they were all assembled, not in the guest bedroom, but in her gran’s bedroom.
Harper glanced around at the antique framed iron bed and the large cheval
mirror with the hand carved roses in the frame.

“Let’s go
downstairs,” she suggested, her throat tightening as she took a deep huff of
the baby powder scent that reminded her vividly of her gran.

Everything was
still the same downstairs, the scorched letter and the spell book were spread
out all over the dining room table, and the devil ring was still snugly around
her finger. Harper stared at the ring with interest, but the potion had taken
away the fear.

“How long is this
going to last?” Harper asked, pointing to herself.

“The spells last
for twelve hours once the potion is consumed. That should be enough time to
heal your concussion… I don’t want to tell you what to do, but you should use
the time to familiarize yourself with your magic. It will be easier to take
once everything wears off,” Mallory seemed to know exactly what she was talking
about. She gave Harper a supportive smile, and Harper smiled back.

“I think we should
all be going...” Mr. Bell said, clearing his throat, and Mallory nodded.

“Call if you need
anything,” Mallory told her on her way out. Mr. Bell just nodded, and then only
Jasper was left, reclining on the living room couch.

Harper stood with
the door wide open and cleared her throat, motioning to the great outdoors
beyond.