The Witchfinder Wars (4 page)

"Serves you right, blouse stealer!"

"Nobody is doing anything but heading out
the door. Girls, the limo is waiting for you out front. Tommy, here
are the keys for the Jag; Ray put a map to your school on the seat.
Out you all go." Grand made shooing motions with one hand, but I
noticed she was eying the remaining biscuits.

I grabbed the keys, snatched a biscuit and
ran.

***

James P. Cothran High School was a long low
brick building on a hill at the edge of town. From the parking
lot—the highest spot around—I could see woods falling away on the
slope behind a shabby stadium. I could just make out the glint of
water off beyond it. A pond or river.

"Hey, my man; nice car!"

I looked at the guy who was just getting out
of a rickety old pickup truck either rust colored from neglect, or
possibly constructed entirely of rust. He was husky, almost flabby,
with dark hair and eyes, and eyes with a look I'd seen in too many
before. He wanted my car and he hated me for having it, but he
didn't dare show it cause, dude, I must be rich to have a car like
that, and he was not.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Tommy Hopkins." I held
out a hand.

He took it and tried to turn it to
hamburger, but I've dealt with his kind before. I work out for just
such reasons.

"Name's Jordan Raquel. You must be the one
who's living in the old Berwick house, huh? My dad told me
somebody'd bought it."

"If it's a big old Victorian on, let's see,
Clarke Street, then that's me all right. Your dad a realtor?"

"Nope, he runs a yard service. I help him
cut grass and stuff. He's been taking care of the grounds at the
old Berwick place since the last people left it. He said last week
it'd been sold. Your old man must have a ton of money, dude. That
place is really something."

I smiled. "It is a big house."

I saw no reason to mention it wasn't my
dad's biggest house, or his only one.

"So, aren't you afraid to drive something
like that to school?"

I looked at the Jag. It stood out in the
parking lot full of old cars and trucks like a bright green jelly
bean in a pile of dirty pebbles.

Maybe I should start taking the bus.

"It's my dad's. He's out of town. Business
trip."

Jordan punched me in the shoulder.

"I get it. While the cat's away, huh?"

He hefted a ragged backpack over one
shoulder. I could hear glass clinking inside. Come to think of it,
he probably didn't have any books to put in it yet.

"Uh, sure. Hey, can you show me how to get
to the principal's office? New kid and all that."

"You bet. Follow me, my man."

***

Principal Fisher shook my hand for the fifth
time and then shoved a handful of papers at me. "Anything I can do,
son, don't hesitate to ask. Our little town is mighty glad to have
your family move in. We surely are. So just let me know if I can
help at all, you hear?"

From the looks of some of the town I'd seen
as I drove to school, I wasn't surprised the principal was glad
we'd moved here. Closed businesses, empty warehouses, storefronts
with all the glass broken out. Manning looked like a lot of the
little towns my dad moved us to all over the country.

My dad's company, WFG Ltd., is a big
multi-national conglomerate which builds factories, businesses, and
clinics all over the place. Plenty of towns we'd moved to in the
past looked as bad or worse than Manning, and I knew this one would
look a whole lot different soon. Some of it already did; I'd passed
a couple of streets where the old buildings had new fronts, where
businesses were moving in and apartments were being offered for
rent. Yep, this town would be different when we left. I just hoped
it wouldn't be too soon. Grand seemed to like this place. Like it a
lot
.

But everything depended on Dad, of course.
He was due to arrive later today. We'd find out then what our time
frame might be.

I didn't have much trouble finding my
classes. A couple of wings of the school building were shut down,
and the entire student enrollment couldn't have been more than a
few hundred. My last school, right outside of Palermo, Italy, had
nearly two thousand students. The one before that, in San Diego,
had over three thousand. This was going to take some getting used
to.

The day passed kind of slow. Jordan Raquel
was in several of my classes; he traveled with a pack of dudes
following him like dogs. A couple of girls in my Spanish class
welcomed me with squeals and hugs, and all the teachers were, well,
teachers; what else can you say?

All the kids were welcoming. Heck, even the
lunch room ladies smiled at me and one added extra pickles to my
hamburger.

Well, all the kids but one. I couldn't help
notice her; she was in almost all my classes. But she entered after
everyone else was already in their seats, and she huddled to
herself at the back of all the classes. She was dressed in dark
clothes, a blue t-shirt and jeans, but she wasn't a Goth. Except
for her red hair, she was just dull. Almost as if she wished she
was invisible and was trying hard to pull it off.

I ignored her just as much as the rest of
the kids did. Or tried to at least. As the day wore on, and she
appeared in my classes one after the other, I found myself catching
the movement of her pale fingers as they pushed strands of her hair
away from her face. Soon I was studying the girl until she glanced
over in my direction and I was forced to turn my attention back to
the teacher at the front of the room.

There was something weird about the whole
place though. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was there. I
finally decided it was probably just left over jitters from the
feeling I'd had in the bathroom this morning, when I'd seen some
kind of hazy figure standing behind me.

After my last class, I headed down the hall
to the door which I thought led to the parking lot. I found I
couldn't go through the closed off wings and had to go around
almost the whole school building. It took longer than I expected to
find sidewalks, obviously well used, heading in the right
direction. I wondered briefly how many years the wings had been
closed off.

By the time I saw the parking lot in front
of me, it was almost empty except for the Jag and Jordan's old
truck. I headed for my car, but something stopped me in my
tracks.

"Hey there, magic maker," someone said, loud
and nasty.

Magic maker?

What, was I in Hogwarts or something?

I saw Jordan and his pack clustered on a
sidewalk across the street from the school. I headed in that
direction. For some reason I didn't understand, I was careful to
remain out of their view. I even ducked behind a gnarled old tree
with roots crumpling the sidewalk.

But I didn't need to be sneaky; they weren't
paying any attention to me or anything else for that matter. All
their senses were directed toward their prey, a figure in blue
maybe half the size of the smallest guy there.

Then I recognized her. The wanna-be
invisible girl from my classes.

Jordan reached out and took a strand of her
hair between two of his thick fingers. She pulled back, and I could
see the look of disgust cross her face.

"You're the same jerk you've always been,
Jordan."

Her voice was low but it didn't sound
scared, which surprised me. I would have been scared in the same
situation, believe me.

She turned away, her backpack bouncing on
her thin shoulders, but Jordan's well-trained pack went into
action, crowding to flank her so she couldn't leave. One of them
grabbed her arms as Jordan closed the distance between them.

"Maybe we should bring back the old days,
huh?"

I saw the fear cross her face, to disappear
as quickly as it came. I couldn't see Jordan's face, but I could
hear the sneer in his voice.

"Have us a little old bonfire, maybe? Burn
us a witch?"

That was enough. I'd been behind the tree
but I stepped out.

"Hey, Jordan? You guys need to spread out a
little, don't you think? You're crowding the lady."

Jordan turned, looking at me and I knew,
clear as if he'd said the words, he hated me. Hated my guts.

"Lady?" he asked with a big grin. "No way,
man. She's a witch, not no lady. But it's cool; me and my boys were
just wishing her a good start to the old school year. Right,
boys?"

Growls of agreement from his pack.

"Witch?" I laughed. "Hey, are you guys
seniors, or are you guys, like, really big seventh graders? Last
time I looked, witches were for Halloween, along with goblins and
Darth Vader."

"You'll see, Hopkins." Jordan shook his
head, like he was sorry I was so stupid. "She's a witch, all right.
It runs in her family; ask anyone in town, they'll tell you. She'll
curse you like she will us now. Come on, boys. Let her go and let's
get outta here."

One dropped the backpack onto the sidewalk
as they followed their alpha dog back toward the old truck in the
parking lot.

"Hey," I said to the girl as I picked up the
discarded backpack and held it out to her. "Are you all right?"

She didn't say anything, just took the
backpack and hooked it over her shoulder. It looked too big for her
and I wondered if I should offer to carry it or something.

She continued with the not saying anything,
until finally I blurted out, "You were right, though. Those guys
are jerks." I held out my hand. "I'm Tommy Hopkins, aka the new kid
in school. I've seen you in some of my classes. Well, all of them,
actually."

Her voice came out in a whisper, as if she
was afraid to speak too loudly in case the dogs came running
back.

"Anya. I'm Anya Blanchett."

She looked down at my hand like she'd never
seen one before.

I let it hang there in midair for a little,
then dropped it.

"Okay. Well, nice to meet you, Anya."

"I...I gotta go."

"Can I give you a ride? Those guys might be
waiting for you."

"No!"

Instead of a whisper, she almost yelled the
word and backed away from me like I was the predator. I didn't
move. I had a funny feeling I'd startle her; like she'd turn into a
deer or something and race off into the woods.

She hitched up the other strap of the
backpack and started to turn away to leave. I couldn't explain the
flash of fear rushing through me, but I reached out and took hold
of her arm before she could get too far. "Wait...Anya...."

When she turned back toward me, I noticed
the rich emerald green of her eyes and my words got stuck against
the back of my throat before I could say them. The fear I'd felt
only moments before changed into something like recognition. I felt
as if I knew her, had known her, forever.

"Look, Tommy..." She let out a shaky breath
and slipped her arm from my grasp. "I...really, it was nice to meet
you. But really, it's fine. Thank you." The girl smiled softly
before turning once more to disappear down the street, leaving me
standing there shaking my head, trying to get rid of the strange
feeling washing over me.

Weird. Man, I'm just saying. This was one
really weird town.

Chapter Three

Anya

I don't remember much about the long walk
home aside from jumping at every shadow across my path. The
trembling made my steps unsteady, so what focus I could muster
moved from my memories of what happened to the sheer desire to stay
upright.

Despite the violence I'd faced, I found my
mind kept wandering back to the one who had saved me. The one named
Tommy whose eyes grabbed mine every time he looked at me. His face
held something I wasn't used to seeing from those my own age, or
any other age.

He looked...concerned. Not mad, or scared.
There was...

I shook my head to drive the thoughts away
as I approached my home, surrounded by the gardens my aunt loved
more than anything else in the world. Rich greens overlapped the
purples and reds of the herbs she tended, and I breathed in the
scent of earth radiating from beneath the plants. She was there
now; her hands quick to grab what she needed and push away what she
didn't, gather what she wanted and discard what was useless. Her
bright green eyes, the same shade as mine, peeked out from
underneath the brim of the wide hat she wore and as they met mine,
her peaceful smile changed into a frown at my expression.

"Annie, child! What happened to you?"

Dammit...
I shrugged as I approached
her bent form.
Should've stopped and calmed down first.

"Not a thing, Aunt Evie. Just had a fall,
that's all."

Those green eyes knew better, but she pursed
her lips as she examined my pale face.

"Just a fall, eh?"

The thick gloves on her hands were gone
before I realized it and she gestured toward the darkening skin on
my arms.

"Make sure to put some dragon root salve on
those bruises before tonight. Ivy will have a fit if she sees them.
You mustn't have any type of negativity for the fitting, you know.
It'll just ruin the whole thing."

I sighed at the truth in her words. If my
mother was anything, it was dramatic. Her reactions were never
rational when it came to negative things. I winced as I thought of
her raging, and nodded in agreement. I gave Evie a quick kiss on
the cheek.

"Aunt Evie, I'm fine, really." My smile was
small but I made it work as she patted my cheek and turned back to
her beloved plants.

The relief flooding through me calmed my
nerves. I bounded up the stairway to my room.

My haven
. I chuckled as I threw my
bag down in the closet. The room was small but neat, evidence of my
personal version of obsessive-compulsive disorder. Time wasn't on
my side if I was going to get cleaned up before the fitting, and I
groaned as I headed for the tiny bathroom down the hall and grabbed
the salve.