The Witchfinder Wars (17 page)

She gazed up at me with a silly,
trying-to-be-sexy look on her face, and I took a good look at her
for the first time. She was dressed in a skimpy tank top and
cut-off jeans, and her flip flops displayed two toe rings on dirty
toes.

"Uh, Hannah?" I asked, still trying to make
her let go of my arm. "Do you know Anya Blanchett?"

She dropped my arm like it had burned her.
"That old thing? You don't want to spend much time with her, let me
tell you. She can be real scary. One time, in first grade?"
Hannah's voice dropped lower and I had to lean down to hear her.
"Anya was coloring a picture, and Jordan—that Jordan, he's always
into something, ya know?—well, Jordan took her red crayon and
shoved it up his nose. Got it all covered in boogers, then dropped
it down on her paper. Ew, it was nasty, let me tell you."

She laughed. I didn't.

"Well, Anya, she just looked up at Jordan
and she said, well, I don't know exactly what she said, but Jordan
got this funny look and came all over green, like, and he ran out
of the classroom and puked in the hall. Well, that just proves it,
don't it?"

"Proves what?" I asked, wondering where this
was going.

"Well, it proves she's just like her family.
They's all witches in the Blanchett family, going way back. That's
what my grandma says, anyway, and my grandma knows some stuff. Two
of her thirteen young-uns graduated high school, and one of them
became a mill manager, second shift, so that shows she's a smart
woman, right?"

"I'd say so, sure," I said.

"Hey, my man!" Jordan said when he saw us.
"I see you've met Hannah already. Come on in and meet the rest of
the crew!"

My look of relief must have been obvious,
and I took the beer from him only as a way to keep my hands busy
and away from the girl still trying to cling to me. The music
around us was almost deafening; the twangs of a guitar and words
about losing the house and dog hit me from all different
directions.

"Hey. Great place." I managed over the
music, and Jordan just laughed, clapping me on the back and leading
me outside. Unfortunately, the pack seemed to follow him wherever
he went, which seemed to include Hannah too. I moved to the other
side of Jordan, and watched as she pouted and fell back in a porch
swing. Jordan sat next to her, swinging his arm around her
shoulders as he took a swig of the beer.

"I don't know about that one, Jordy." The
girl sniffed as she looked away from me. "He's already been asking
about the witch."

Jordan laughed, leaning forward to shake a
finger at me. "Dude...seriously. We gotta get you some new friends
around here. Did you hear about what happened at school on
Thursday? Man, I hate I didn't stick around long enough. Not that I
could've gotten close to the office. But that's why it pays to have
spies."

"What happened?" I asked, not because I
really wanted to know but because Jordan seemed to expect it. Then
I realized he was talking about Anya. "Not something bad, right? I
mean, not that it matters to me, but—"

"Oh, man," Jordan interrupted, then slurped
some beer. "It was classic, know what I mean? The principal caught
the Blanchett witch writing on her own locker—" Several of the pack
snickered and Hannah giggled; Jordan just looked smug and
satisfied, "—and took her to the office. He said she was defacing
school property and he had proof she was cheatin' on her tests too.
Smart girls. Don't you just hate 'em, dude? I mean, a girl that's
smart probably has all sortsa other things wrong with her too,
right?" He let one hand slide casually inside the top of Hannah's
tank; she smirked and wiggled, then threw a wink at her friend who
I supposed was Jennie. "Girls ain't supposed to be smarter than
dudes, am I right?"

Several of his pack growled in
agreement.

"But, hey, you need another beer?"

"No, I'm cool," I said. I hadn't even had a
sip from the first one, but raised it to my lips; the smell alone
almost made me gag. "So what did the principal do?"

Jordan laughed. "Mike was there..." He
pointed over to the guy who had greeted me at the door. "Well, he
heard everything. Fisher said they'd heard she's been cheatin', and
she denied it until he asked her if she called upon the Devil to
help her. You know what them witches do, man...freaky stuff.
Anyway, she got all uppity. Said she wouldn't answer 'cause of some
rights she has. But he ended up giving her two weeks of detention
anyway. Two weeks! And she's gotta scrub it off herself!"

"Okay...so what did she do? What did she
write?"

"Hell if I know man. We decided to do a
little decoratin' for her. Let the witch know we were onto her for
cursin' your daddy like she did."

"My daddy?" I asked. "What do you mean?
He...died in a landslide up on Interstate 40. I've read they happen
a lot up there."

"Yeah, man, they do," Jordan said, then
shrugged. "But listen: witches can do stuff, you know? And you just
gotta be careful around them, is what I'm sayin'. You need some
friends to watch your back. Am I right?" he asked, and his crew all
nodded in unison, like puppets on the same string. "That's why
you're lucky we all took to you so quick and all. We're here for
you, man. We've got your back."

"Uh, thanks," I said. I wanted to storm out
of there, slapping a few silly, grinning faces on the way. But
there was a Hummer outside. I needed to fit in, needed to keep a
low profile.

But I was beginning to suspect, was getting
my first hints, at what Anya had been forced to put up with her
whole life. These...people...were against anything, anyone who was
different.

And I was growing more and more sure Anya
was different in a whole lot of ways. Oh, she wasn't a witch;
witches didn't exist, after all. But she was plenty smart, living
in a place and among people who didn't, couldn't, appreciate
that.

I was suddenly filled with the desire to go
get her and take her away, somewhere, anywhere, and spend the rest
of my life making up to her how much she'd missed. Show her the
places I'd seen and loved: London, Paris, Sydney. Take her away to
college with me. Introduce her to the people I loved and trusted:
Grand, the girls, my dad's friend Zachariah.

Then it hit me. I didn't have many people
whom I loved or trusted. And neither did Anya. We were alike in
more ways than I realized.

But, if I had anything to do with it, we
were at least going to have each other. And nothing Clay or Kinsey
or WFG could do would change that.

Nothing.

***

I lingered on the back porch, trying to
blend in, while the crew got wasted on the same alcohol I kept
dumping into the bushes whenever I got the chance. Just after ten
o'clock, I decided I'd had enough and started to head back through
the house. I reached my car, and had my keys in my hand, before a
voice stopped me. A groan escaped before I could catch it.

"Where you goin', honey? Party's just
gettin' started."

I turned to see the girl that had,
thankfully, ignored me after Jordan started paying her attention.
She looked like a mess, just as drunk as her friends inside.

"Yeah. I gotta get back..."

Hannah cut me off, walking around me to run
her hand over the side of the car, before leaning against it.
"Pretty. Just as good lookin' as you are."

"Um, thanks. Listen..."

She giggled, reaching out to run her hand
over the front of my shirt. "You don't gotta go so soon, do ya? Get
to know a girl a little bit first."

I had to get out of there. Fast. I shook my
head before brushing her hand aside.

"Really, it's been fun, but..."

The girl threw herself against me, knocking
me off balance, as she wrapped her arms around my throat and tried
to kiss me. I acted out of some primal instinct for survival when I
pushed her away. She stumbled, glaring at me, before stamping her
foot on the gravel driveway.

"What
is
it with you? What? Cause I
ain't no witch I ain't good enough for ya? I hate you!"

Hannah was away from me. Away from my car.
The desire to take a shower was starting to overwhelm me as I waved
and slid inside making sure, damn sure, I locked the doors behind
me.

I heard one last "I hate you!" as I started
the car and drove away. My thoughts went back to Anya, and it
amazed me how different she truly was from the others I'd met here
in Manning. Compared to Hannah, Anya embodied all the quiet peace
and dignity I was searching for, even with the danger WFG posed for
her family. The Hummer was gone, and I watched in my rear view
mirror as I maneuvered through the streets going back into town to
make sure it didn't return.

After the party, I wanted nothing more than
to just hear Anya's voice. Have her calm me down after the disaster
of Jordan and his friends. The thought of Hannah made me shudder,
and it made my decision. I pulled into the parking lot of a fast
food joint, took my new phone out, and found the number I'd dialed
into it earlier. The phone rang several times before the voice I'd
been wanting to hear picked up.

"Hello?"

My sudden nervousness was replaced with the
calm I felt around her, and I could feel the grin on my face, as I
leaned back against the seat. "Hey."

"Tommy? Hey! What's wrong..." Then laughter.
"Sorry, I'm not good at this kinda thing."

I chuckled, cradling the phone against my
ear. "Yeah, I'm not either. But, well..." The sudden shyness I
felt, seemed to always feel when she was close by, was
overwhelming, and I kicked myself for it. I cleared my throat and
started over. "I just left Jordan's place. They had a party tonight
and...well, I needed to talk to someone who wasn't drunk."

Or desperate
...I pushed the image of
Hannah out of my mind.

I could hear movement on the other side of
the line before she responded.

"I'm sorry."

I laughed despite myself. "I didn't want to
go. But...my uncle...thought it was a good idea if I started
meeting people around here. Try to make friends."

"Did you make any?"

"No!" The word came out stronger than I
intended, but she just laughed again, and I knew that silly grin
was back on my face. I couldn't put my finger on it, but this girl
could make me happy just by hearing her voice, her laughter. I
loved every second of it.

"Well, what was the point then?"

I sighed. "I guess there wasn't one. I did
hear about something though. Something happened at school on
Thursday."

She got quiet, but I waited. It worked. Anya
responded. "Let's start with what you heard. Then we'll go from
there."

Slow, quiet, cautious. Those were the best
words I could find to describe how she sounded. I cleared my throat
and told her what Jordan had said about her having to go into
Principal Fisher's office, and how the guy named Michael had
overheard. She snorted when I finished.

"Did he tell you how I gave Michael the only
bath he's had this year, too?"

Anya told me how she had found the graffiti
on her locker, what the principal had said, and finally, how she
had dumped the water on the guy's head. I laughed.

"Good for you! But, well, what are you going
to do?"

She sighed. "Not a thing, hun. There's
nothing I can do. Not really. And I hate to do this, but...well, I
gotta go. I can hear Evie calling me now."

"All right. We're still on for Sunday night,
right?"

"Of course. You remember how to get down
there?"

"Yeah." Of course I remembered. That place
had been in my dreams. The place where I realized how special Anya
was to me. "I'll see you then, okay?"

"'K. Bye, Tommy."

I waited until I heard her hang up before I
disconnected the call, holding the phone in my hands as if I could
bring her through it. So I could hold her, kiss her again. Tell her
those idiots I'd been with tonight didn't matter. So I really
could
take her away from this town and all its
trappings.

Someday I would, though. Somehow, we would
leave Manning together. I was sure of it, and I'd show her the
world as it was meant to be seen.

I grinned as I pulled out of the parking
spot and headed home. I was certain Anya felt the same way about me
as I did her. I could feel it. Hear it in her voice. Memories of
what Grand had told me about taking things slow ran through my mind
and I chuckled.

It was too late for slow. Too late for
caution. Once I had Anya safe from WFG, I'd tell her so.

To hell with slow. This was my girl, and I
was going make sure she stayed that way.

Chapter
Eleven

Anya

"Anya!"

The panic in the voice tore me from sleep
and I batted at the hand digging into my shoulder.

"Anya!"

"Stop...I'm up. I'm awake. What is it, Aunt
Evie?"

I looked up at her eyes, wide with fear, as
she stared at the altar that had served as my makeshift pillow. She
didn't have to say another word; I jumped up myself, crying out as
I stepped away.

The altar was a sacred place for us. While
the beauty of nature served as our cathedral, the items on the
altar were to be used only as a way to create spellcraft or pray to
the Goddess. By falling asleep on it, I had committed a blasphemous
act, and one I would have to work to rectify for the rest of the
morning. I may as well have spat on it, or danced naked on it.

I turned to Evie, who was staring at me as
if I had grown a third eye overnight.

"What happened to you, Annie? You know
better than that!"

"I was..." Visions from the night before
crashed around me and I groaned. I grabbed for Evie's hands. "Evie,
you have to help me! Ma can't know..."

She shook off my grip and her green eyes
narrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Help you with
what, Anya? You've made a big enough mess on your own. Why should I
help?"