Wiccan, A Witchy Young Adult Paranormal Romance

WICCAN

By M. Leighton

Copyright
©
2011 by M. Leighton

Smashwords Edition

http://mleightonbooks.blogspot.com

Photo by Simon
Howden/freedigitalphotos.net

CHAPTER ONE

“
Tonight I’m not Lisa. I’m
Tony,” the girl said.

Her suggestive tone was met with a
throaty chuckle. Though she wore a thin, fake goatee, there was no
mistaking the feminine beauty of her face. Lisa, as she’d called
herself, had big brown eyes and short black hair. The pixie cut was
disheveled as if she’d recently run her fingers through it. Thick
grass framed her head in a spiky halo and the top two buttons of
her dress shirt were undone. A dark blue tie hung loosely around
her neck, lying off to one side.

Her lips curved into a sultry smile and
her lids were heavy with passion as she looked up into her lover’s
face. She reached up and twisted a lock of dark red hair around her
finger.

“
I love it,” she said
huskily. “It makes me feel so dirty.”

Her eyes drifted closed as two
black-gloved hands came up to cup her face. Her lover leaned
forward and long fiery hair dropped down like a curtain to conceal
them both.

I could hear the soft wet sounds of
their lips as they kissed and then her partner leaned back and I
saw Lisa again. Her expression was one of dreamy desire as the
gloved hands of her lover slid down to her throat. Lisa tipped her
head back to let the long fingers stroke the pale skin of her
neck.

When the fingers wound around Lisa’s
throat and began to squeeze, she grinned as if she was enjoying an
inside joke. But when they continued to tighten, Lisa’s smile began
to waver. It faded completely when the creak of stretching glove
leather broke the silence. The hands sunk deeper and deeper into
her flesh, squeezing tighter and tighter, and Lisa’s sober
expression quickly turned to a mask of terror.

Her face reddened as she struggled to
breathe. To no avail, Lisa’s fingers clawed at the hands squeezing
her airway shut. She opened her mouth to scream, but it was nothing
more than a hoarse croak that barely stirred the stillness. Her
lips worked themselves open and closed in several futile attempts
to breathe.

Lisa began to shake her head back and
forth, back and forth, in a final and desperate effort to free
herself. Her lover simply bore down, subduing her easily. Red hair
swung forward and thumbs bit into Lisa’s flesh. Her eyes watered
and darted around frantically. Her tongue protruded grotesquely as
she flailed.

My pulse throbbed in my ears when I saw
a white ring appear around her mouth. It looked clown-like against
the purplish red of her face. I knew what it meant, though. Lisa
was suffocating.

Little by little, Lisa’s struggles
waned until she finally went limp. I watched the life fade from her
eyes as the seconds ticked by. Much as I wanted to, I couldn’t
move. I was tied to the scene until the murder was
complete.

By the time the hands finally loosened
and pulled away from her neck, Lisa’s eyes were open and glassy,
staring past me, out into oblivion. Now the earthy brown orbs were
nothing more than windows into the hollow darkness of
death.

Right before my eyes, the vision
drifted away like early morning fog as the clarity of the present
swept in. I took several deep calming breaths and reminded myself
that it was just an image, that’s all. There was nothing to be
afraid of, nothing to feel bad about. There wasn’t anything I
could’ve done to help her.

My visions, while terrifying, were
always like that—pretty much useless. They were glimpses of past
events that flooded my mind when I walked over the site of a
violent attack, an attack that most often resulted in a
homicide.

But as usual, despite the irrationality
of it, I had a moment of intense sadness. I felt sorry for the
girl, for what she’d suffered and who she’d left behind, for the
fact that no one had helped her and neither could I. It didn’t make
any sense, but I’d learned to accept it. Well, somewhat
anyway.

I was still in the grass beside the
sidewalk when I heard the rhythmic sound of heavy footfalls.
Blinking several times, I looked around and saw a runner jogging
toward me, his feet thumping steadily on the concrete.

The sidewalk behind me was old and
cracked and snaked through a little patch of woods that decorated
the northwest corner of campus. It was well hidden and out of sight
and, as far as I knew, only used by joggers. I had to admit, it was
a great place for murder. The only reason I’d come this way to
school was because my house was just through the trees and on the
other side of the river. Now I was going to have to find a
different route to take. This one was forever spoiled.

I looked to my left, toward the quad up
ahead and my final destination, Fisk Hall, just beyond it. I knew I
should get going, but my eyes were drawn once more to the grass
where I’d seen Lisa take her last breath only moments before.
Quickly, I was lost again in the images that were still fresh and
vivid in my mind.

“
Are you
alright?”

The deep voice startled me. With a
gasp, I put my hand to my chest to steady my runaway
heart.

“
Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare
you,” he said. It was the runner. He’d stopped and walked across
the grass to check on me.

“
No, no, you’re fine. I was
just, uh-. Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m just a little
preoccupied. The first day of school and all.” I shrugged my
shoulders in what I hoped was a casual gesture.

“
Freshman, huh?”

“
Is it that obvious?” To
this, he said nothing. He just smiled, revealing a row of perfectly
straight, white teeth. “Do you go here?” I asked.

He appeared to be college age. I’d have
guessed maybe twenty-one or twenty-two. And he was probably a jock.
He had that athletic build: wide shoulders, narrow waist, long
legs. He looked like a clean cut, wholesome, all-American guy right
down to his trendy blonde hair and sky blue eyes.

“
Until next May, I do. It’s
my senior year,” he said with a smile. “Jacob Wheeler. But you can
call me Jake.”

It surprised me when he stuck out his
hand. Few men had ever offered to shake my hand, so I faltered a
bit before I raised my hand and pressed my palm to his. His hand
was big and warm and a little rough. “Mercy Holloway. But you can
call me…Mercy Holloway,” I said with a nervous laugh. “Nice to meet
you.”

“
Well, welcome to University
East, Mercy Holloway. I’ll see you around.” With that, he turned
back to the sidewalk and jogged away.

Shaking off the unnerving start to my
day, I walked around Lisa’s now translucent body and tried to put
her face behind me as I continued my trek to class.

Fortunately, the rest of the short
journey was vision-free so I was a bit more collected by the time I
took a seat in my biochemistry class. By the looks of the empty
room, I figured I was early so I took out my book and started
flipping idly through the pages.

Within a few minutes, other students
started filing in and a few minutes after that, the teacher
arrived.

Dr. Bradbury was his name and he looked
every bit the science teacher. He was a walking cliché with his
black horn-rimmed glasses, atrocious comb-over and stained lab
coat.

He was well into his first-day-of-class
spiel when a straggler student darted through the door. She hurried
across in front of the first row then turned to climb up the center
aisle toward me.

The breath hitched in my throat when
she lifted her head to look for an empty seat. Her face, like all
the others I’d seen die over the past ten years, was permanently
etched into my mind. Only this one was very much alive.

The student was Lisa.

CHAPTER TWO

I gaped at her from my where
I sat, watching her as she slid into the empty seat right in front
of me. My mind was reeling. I had never seen a murder
before
it happened and I
wasn’t quite sure what to do. I mean, I had to do something, but I
couldn’t very well approach her and say
Hey, I had a vision that you’re going to be strangled by
someone with long red hair, but I don’t know when or where or who
the person is.
Yeah, I’m really sure that
was gonna happen. She’d never believe me.

I rolled the dilemma over and over in
my mind. Meanwhile, I missed everything Dr. Bradbury said in class.
I spent the entire seventy-five minutes figuring out ways that I
could help the young, very much alive girl in front of me.
Unfortunately, I came up with nothing.

When class was over, I still wasn’t
sure what to do, so I decided to follow her, hoping inspiration
would strike along the way.

As discreetly as I could, I tracked her
to where she met up with one of her friends and they went to Ruger
Commons for a cappuccino. I ordered one as well and sat semi-close
to them, trying to eavesdrop without getting caught. As cover, I
had my biochemistry book open on the table in front of me as if I
was studying diligently. I didn’t stop to think that studying
probably made me stand out all the more. I mean, who does that on
the first day of school anyway?

Somewhere in front of me, a deep voice
that sounded vaguely familiar rumbled. I looked over at the little
Burger King half-store across from me and saw Jake Wheeler standing
in line. He was talking with a couple of other guys.

I watched as he ordered, appreciating
the way he cleaned up. His blonde hair was a little darker and
looked wet, probably freshly washed, and he had on jeans and an
Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirt. The only reason I could identify the
shirt so easily is because I recognized it as one that the live
models at the mall wore a few weeks ago. Whatever those guys were
clothed in had a tendency to stick in my head.

He talked to his friends, gesturing so
animatedly that I had no trouble figuring out that they were
talking about football. When it was his turn at the counter, he
placed his order, paid the cashier then picked up his food and
carried it to a table directly in my line of sight. I watched him
set his tray down and pull out a chair. I was completely absorbed
by the fluid way he moved.

Unable to take my eyes off him, I
watched as, to my utter dismay, he turned and bent down to kiss
Lisa.

“
Hey, babe,” he said
affectionately.

“
Hi, sweetie. I missed you
this weekend,” she said, winding her arms around his
neck.

Lisa!

I snapped my gaping mouth
shut. In my thrall with Jake, I’d completely forgotten about Lisa,
my
sole
reason for
being there. I watched the couple’s PDA until Jake extricated
himself from Lisa’s arms and took his seat.

I tried to ignore him as he ate, but I
found my eyes wandering back to him frequently when I was supposed
to be watching Lisa.

I was watching him laugh with one of
his friends when I suddenly remembered to check on Lisa. Only she
was gone. How had I missed that?

I looked around for her at all the
tables and kiosks, the half-stores and the benches, but there was
no sign of her.

I figured that was a pretty good
indication that I could cross private investigating off my list of
possible career alternatives if my premed major didn’t work out. I
think it’s safe to assume that surveillance is not your strong suit
if all it takes to distract you is a cute guy.

I was both disappointed and aggravated.
I could’ve kicked myself for losing track of Lisa. Jake’s arrival
at Ruger’s had completely distracted me from my
stalking.

It’s a sad and pathetic
testament to one’s complete and total lack of a social life when
you get that wrapped up in just watching a guy that you
just met
. I mean, it’s
not like he’s
that
hot. Well, yeah, actually he is, but that’s not the point. I
should’ve been completely focused on Lisa. She was certainly the
more important person of the two of them.