New Frost: Winter Witches (4 page)

I touched them and was surprise at how warm they were. How warm he was. "I thought you'd be cold."
 

"Your mother said that, just after it happened." He brushed my hair back from my face. "My little baby's all grown up. And a witch."
 

"A hybrid," Nature said with enough snark to choke a cow. "Just like her father."
 

"I told you that you couldn't control her." My dad looked past me to her and I leaned in close to him as I turned to look at her as well.
 

"We're not done yet. Don't get so cocky just because she can see you again. That doesn't solve the problem of her wild magic."
 

I frowned and looked to my dad. "Wild magic?"

"It's just a term she uses. My dad told me about it. Your grandfather. He's eager to meet you."
 

"I have a grandfather?" I wasn't sure what to think about that.

Nature cleared her throat to get our attention again. "Jack, did you forget that you work for me?"
 

"Only because you force it. Because Nature loves to be in control. And Hybrid magic, or wild magic, is something you can't control without threats and blackmail." He stepped toward Nature. His jacket parted and I saw a hole in his hoodie. I grabbed the collar and pulled it down.
 

There, in the center of his chest was a star carved into his flesh. I brushed my fingers over it. "This is where grams shot you."
 

"Yes. That's where the bullet is."
 

"And if you don't come with me, child and do as I tell you, I'll make him human again," Nature put her hands on her hips. "And we know what will happen then."
 

"He'll die." I looked up into his face. My dad's face and then not my dad at all. "You won't do it though."
 

"You don't think so?"
 

"No." I stood directly in front of my dad, barefoot in the snow. "Because if you did, you wouldn't have a Jack Frost. And I'm willing to bet you don't have a replacement chosen. Nor can you because the bloodline won't let you, will it? Because I'm alive."
 

I could see from the discomfort in her expression I was right. It was a hunch but something I'd been thinking about.
 

"I told you she was smart," Jack said.
 

Even though Nature looked uncomfortable, she also looked mad. Her eyes narrowed and the wolves moved closer. I looked at them and they were staring at her. "You think you can play my role, little witch? Do you? Hybrid magic is foul and reeks of choice and emotion. It's true—I would kill that bastard behind you with a thought if it weren't for rules even I can't disobey. And even if he died you would be chosen next and I would still be surrounded by Winter's children."
 

I had heard from Crow that Winter was my dad's dad. And at the time I hadn't believe that either. But now with my dad beside me, the wolves apparently acting on my behalf though I had no conscious control over them, I was ready to believe anything. "What exactly is it you want with me? You can't kill my father or I take over as Jack Frost and you obviously don't want that. I can see my father. Touch him. Smell him. Talk to him. So I'm not really sure what your purpose here is for?"
 

Something clenched in my heart. It wasn't a pain as much as a warning. The wolves sensed it as well. Their fangs barred as they readied themselves for a fight.
 

Nature raised her hand. "I want you to do die, Amelia Frost." In her hand appeared a white spear. It glistened and sparkled as if the weapon were carved from a single diamond.
 

"Run!" My dad yelled and he shoved me from the side. Luckily I didn't run but I did pay attention to what Nature was doing. Her intention was to put that spear through my heart, and if my dad had been where I was, he'd have gotten it through his. I reacted on instinct, free of trying to hide my power from anyone else. I threw out my hands and a five foot thick wall of ice shot out of the ground between my dad and Nature's weapon. It struck the wall and bored halfway through before it stopped.
 

My dad grinned at me and disappeared in a shower of snow and ice shards.
 

Nature screamed as she turned to me and called up another spear. The wolves snarled and launched their attack at her but she kept them at bay by using a similar wall. They ran at her walls as I blocked her again, and again and again, until I started feeling tired. I'd never used this much power before and wasn't sure how to sustain it. Nature used this to her advantage and continued her attacks with the intent of wearing me down. Every wall I threw up was thinner than the one before.
 

Then one of them shattered when the blade hit it.
 

I fell back in the snow as she advanced on me and raised her spear, a look of mad triumph on her face. I didn't know what had happened to my dad but I was happy he was away from her and I'd finally gotten to see him and hold him one time in my life.
 

But when she reared that spear back to strike, a hand appeared in the air and took it from her just as she struck. She came forward and stumbled when she realized her weapon of choice was gone. Nature looked around the snow to find it. Not seeing it she held up her hand and fashioned another one.
 

The hand appeared again and took it from her.
 

"Stop doing that!" Nature shrieked.
 

A large man with a graying head of hair and beard, dressed like a lumberjack in green pants and a red flannel shirt, appeared in the air behind her. He held both of her weapons in his hand a few seconds before he crushed them into nothing.
 

My dad appeared beside me and helped me up on my feet. I grabbed hold of him and did not let go.
 

"How dare you!" Nature screamed at the lumberjack.
 

"Oh shut up." He glared at her and then moved toward us. "You weren't kidding, Jack. She's beautiful. Good thing she looks like her mother."
 

"She does, doesn't she?" Jack smiled at me and then took me into a bear hug.
 

I hugged him back and offered the lumberjack my hand. "Amelia Frost."
 

"Winter. But you can call me grandpa."
 

My jaw dropped.
This
was my grandfather? "You're Winter?"
 

"Well of course? Don't you think I look the part?" He laughed and at that moment reminded me of Santa Claus. "I'm sorry about all this. I should have come forward before and done something about this situation. But I've had this damn dwarf problem by the name of Lee that's kept me busy. And from the looks of you, Amelia, I've been busy too long. You grew!" He focused on my dad. "You want a break?"
 

"A break?"
 

"Yeah…I can't give you back the life you had. Nature saw to that when she influenced your mom to shoot you. I'm real sorry about that. But what I can give you is the way to make new memories."
 

"I don't understand." My dad looked and sounded as confused as I was.
 

The wolves surrounded Nature. A gruff, male voice spoke in my head.
We won't let her go until you are safe
.

One of the wolves, a darker one closer to me, turned and nodded to me.
 

Oh…hell. I just had a wolf talk to me.
 

"I can't make you fully human because you never were. But what I can do is strike up a deal with you. You get back to making a living with this little girl's mom in exchange for a half a year in the position. There's no one else right now and if you die, then she gets it." He nodded to me. "And I know you don't want her to have to go through what you did."
 

"But sir," I spoke up. "I'm already a witch."
 

"Yep. And don't forget it. Practice your magic so bitches like this one," he said as he nodded to Nature. "Won't try and bully you to join their club."
 

"So I don't have to go with her?"

"You never did. Nature's sort of a control freak. But you get used to it and move on. She can't control you magically, but she can screw up your life. Now that your power's waking up fully your protectors have appeared." He gestured to the wolves. "They're a regular when it comes to defending the grand daughter of Winter."
 

"You know I won't let this end, Winter."
 

He half turned to face her. "I know dear."
 

Dear?
 

My jaw dropped as something dawned on me. Something I'd read when doing studies on deities and spirits during my first semester. "Nature's your wife."
 

"Unfortunately yes. And sometimes, like all mothers, she gets a little…jealous."
 

I put my hands to my face. It all made sense now. My dad and his brother were the mistress's children. The bastards. And Nature was the jealous wife looking to get rid of those children. She had my uncle killed, she wanted to kill my dad but did something worse by making him into something that would keep him from his family, and I was next on her hit list.
 

I looked at Nature with a new found disrespect.

Winter moved me away from my dad, winked, and then slapped his hand on my dad's chest.
 

I heard him scream just as a white light blinded me and just about everything else for a quarter mile. When it was gone I was on my knees in the snow. The wolves were still there in a circle around us. But Nature and Winter were nowhere to be seen.
 

My dad lay in a crumpled heap a few feet away. I scrambled over to him, calling his name over and over. He was face down in the snow and his salt and peppered hair was dotted with new snow as it started falling.
 

Wait…salt and pepper hair?
 

He moved under my hands and I pulled at his clothing to get him up. I gasped when I saw his face and the age that now wizened his eyes and made laugh lines around his mouth. His skin was no longer flawless and his hair no longer white. He was older. Maybe nineteen years…older.
 

Dad sat up and looked at me. Steam rose from inside his hoodie and I jerked the collar away to see the skin underneath. The scar was still there, but it was just a scar. "The bullet…"

"Its gone." He patted his face and then looked at me. "I'm older looking, aren't I?" He was looking at the backs of his hands and smiling.
 

"Yeah. But you look about the same age as mom now."
 

"If I'm right, this means I'm around 46 now." The smile on his face was filled with joy. "Your mom! Where's Sarah?"
 

"She's coming up tomorrow, assuming she can get through the snow."

"Yeah the snow will be gone by tomorrow night." He pushed himself up and then helped me up. "Good God my feet are cold!" He looked at the wolves. "Thank you for your help!"
 

The big one, the one that spoke to me, loped up to us and faced me.
We don't think she will be back. Call us when you have need of us, Winter Wiccé, and we will be there.
 

On cue they all turned and trotted back into the forest.
 

"I didn't call them."
 

"Doesn't matter. They're drawn to your power and they'll be there to protect you when you need them, just like all witches. And Nature can't do a thing about them." But he was already trudging through the snow in the direction of the cabin. I caught up with him and took his hand. "Is Crow here?"
 

"Yeah. Oh, he got hit in the head."

"Eh, he'll be okay. I bet he looks the same too. Hasn't aged a day. Bastard and his Cherokee blood." He squeezed my hand as we moved through the snow covered forest. "You think you mom will take me back?"
 

I returned his smile and nodded. "Neither of us ever let you go, dad."
 

about the author

Phaedra Weldon is a writer and mother of one. Born in Pensacola, Florida, Phaedra was raised in the lush, green southern tropic of Georgia. She grew up on southern ghost stories told while eating marshmallows around campfires, or on the back of pick-up trucks in the middle of cornfields on chilly October nights.
 
She worked as a Graphic Artist for over twenty years in the publishing and sign industries until she became a full time writer in 2009. Phaedra currently lives in Atlanta, Georgia.
 

This work and everything in it is the sole property of Phaedra Weldon. Any copying or reprinting will be prosecuted to the furthest extent of the law.
 

THE UNCOLLECTED ANTHOLOGY

WINTER WITCHES

ISSUE: 2, October 2014

Uncollectedanthology.com

___

For more stories of
Winter Witches
, read these titles!
 

The Last Dancing Leaves

Leah Cutter

Desperate Housewitches

Dayle A. Dermatis

The Witch of Budapest

Michele Lang

The Snow Queen

Annie Reed

Phoenix

Leslie Claire Walker

New Frost

Phaedra Weldon

Visit the Uncollected Anthology website for more information, links and our newsletter!
 

http://www.uncollectedanthology.com

anthology
: a collection of selected literary pieces

uncollected
: not collected or gathered together

oxymoron
: a combination of words that have opposite or very different meanings

The Uncollected Anthology series is indeed an oxymoron. Sprung from the minds of six fabulous authors who love fantasy, short stories, and each other's writing, the series' main goal is to bring 
you
 quality urban fantasy fiction.