Page 26 of Wicching Hour (The Sea Wicche Chronicles #3)

TWENTY-SIX

A Witch Burning

W hen I opened my eyes, I saw movement and jumped. Otis chittered at his brother for scaring me. “I’m okay. How are you three tonight?”

They sat behind their muffins, watching me, seemingly waiting for the invitation to eat. It didn’t escape my notice that Jasper had already taken a bite out of his. Thankfully, I didn’t seem to scare Daisy anymore. She stood with her brothers, staring up at me.

“Please eat. I brought those out for you.” They each plopped their butts down, picked up their muffins, and began to eat. “I hope you guys are staying safe. I worry about you when there are so many creeps around here.”

When they finished, they scampered off and I went in. I checked the freezer for what I could serve for dinner tomorrow night. I had a couple of large lasagnas. In the refrigerator, I found two big steaks, some green beans and asparagus—look at Declan, being healthy. I could make some garlic bread and serve lasagna and vegetables. Good. Done.

I brewed more tea and turned off the overhead lights, just leaving the lamp beside my chair on. I considered watching a show, but I wasn’t in the mood. I glanced at my e-reader, but again, couldn’t muster the interest.

I could go upstairs, put my hand on the pillow Declan had used earlier, and check on him. No. That felt too much like spying, like what the stalker was doing. I’d checked on Declan once that way because I had to. He would have been shot and killed before the Alpha challenge had even begun. A twinge of guilt got me right in the chest. He’d forbidden me from helping him and I’d never told him that I had. I mean, did I have to? It felt like a deathbed confession was the only reasonable answer.

So I sat in my chair, sipping my tea and trying very hard not to think about what I’d been trying not to think about all day. There was a podcast out there about me.

My stomach dropped. It was middle school all over again. Was I a strong, powerful woman? Fuck, yeah! Did it make me sick to think about someone devoting all this time and energy to talk shit about me? Also yes.

Resigned, I opened my podcast app and searched for A Witch Burning . And there it was, right at the top. I clicked on it. Carter was right. The face of the witch being burned looked exactly like me. I wondered if the stalker had fed a photo of me into AI. Shit . There were even more ratings now.

I hit play.

“Have you been seeing the signs too? Darkness is overpowering the light. This is what comes of tolerance, of letting people do whatever they want. Evil rises.

“Have you seen it too? My God, we’re not blind. False prophets, claiming righteousness and goodness, are leading people from the one true path. Wars around the world. Atrocities. Genocide.

“They call it climate change, but we all know what it really is. The earthquakes and hurricanes, the blizzards and tornadoes, they’re God’s will. He’s trying to shake us up, to get our attention. He wants to punish the sinners. Those who deny the true path. And instead of listening and changing their sinful, unnatural ways, they talk about the planet’s temperature rising a degree or two. They’re hysterical about the wrong things.

“The world has gone through ice ages and heat waves. It’s how nature works. It’s all a big scam, though. One of those shell games. They want us looking at emissions and green energy instead of our own sinful, godless ways. Earthquakes are a wake-up call. It’s why we get so many of them in free, liberal, blue California.

“Pandemics? Check. Persecution of Christians? Check. The lawlessness is rampant. All of it are signs from heaven to repent and change our ways. Instead, we embrace godlessness and Satan rises.

“And with Satan comes the witches, his handmaidens. We have to fight for the soul of humanity, and that means burning all the witches!

“How do we do that? By calling them out. We present our evidence, so everyone knows that our actions are righteous and godly. We’re God’s warriors. When the end of days inevitably arrives, we’ll be singled out as the ones who deserve eternal life in the light of God’s love. We won’t be cast down into Hell with the tolerant ones who lived and let live,” he sneered.

“No! Would you walk by a drowning child and say, ‘That’s his choice’? Of course not. You’d step in and help him. You’d drag him out of the water and breathe life into him. Will it hurt? Probably. But we can’t allow the fear of causing pain to still our hands. We are warriors, and in war, there are casualties. If they wanted to stay safe, they would have kept to the path.

“Temptations are put in our way to distract and confuse us. They take many forms. For some, it’s drugs and alcohol. For some, it’s pornography. For others, it’s greed and the pursuit of wealth at all costs. And for still others, it’s unnatural, lustful thoughts.”

A thump sounds in the background, like he’s pounded his fist on his podcasting desk.

“They lure us from the path and the face of God for their own twisted reasons. They know what they’re doing, packaging evil in a beautiful face and a short skirt.

“Who among us hasn’t seen a pretty young thing waiting for a school bus and had sinful thoughts? That’s the Devil trying to tempt us, using weak women to do his will. All the way back to Adam, the Devil has been using women to tempt us, to lead us astray. We have to recognize the temptation, and we have to destroy it. It’s the only way to win back our souls and keep them pure.

“So, this podcast is going to call out the witches among us, to discuss their evil influence, and to help the righteous avoid them. I’m not advocating actually burning the witches. Okay? Are we clear? I didn’t say to do it. I just think we need to know who the enemies are so we can protect our loved ones from them.”

That was exactly what he was doing. He was wrapping it in religious fanaticism and purity, but what he wanted was for me and anyone like me to burn.

“This isn’t a call-in show, but maybe, if I get enough listeners, it can become one. For now, you can go to my Witch Burning website and fill out the form with the information you have on a possible witch, and we can arrange phone calls to discuss your evidence on future podcasts.

“Today, we’re going to start with my witch. She’s a local artist. Aren’t they always those free-spirited, bohemian types? Their lack of rules makes it easier to talk you into abandoning the path. They aren’t happy unless they’re drawing us in and polluting our souls.

“Even the name of her gallery has witch in it, though it’s spelled wrong. Maybe it’s plausible deniability while still signaling to other demonic beings that she’s one of them.

“She’s beautiful, of course. Those old cartoons of ugly witches with long, warty noses and hunched backs make no sense in the real world. We all know beautiful people get special treatment. They can do anything, and the weak among us are so taken with their beauty, we let them get away with it.

“She has a perfect face, bright green eyes, a ton of long, shiny curls that go down to her butt. She’s petite. I’ve stood beside her. The top of her head came to maybe my shoulder. You could pick her up and carry her off, if you wanted. But just to lure us in, she’s got an hourglass figure. She hides it under overalls, but I think that’s just to make us wonder about what she’s hiding.

“It’s like that old Hansel and Gretel story, except instead of a house made of candy, she uses her looks and her art to draw people into her trap. And I’m not saying for sure she’s a witch. I’m not saying that. I’m laying out the evidence so you can help me decide what needs to be done.

“Let me tell you a little story. An origin story, if you will. I’d noticed her working on a mural, walking around this big old building that was being remodeled. I thought she was beautiful, so I noticed. There’s nothing wrong with noticing. That’s what they do, though, how they draw us in. One day, I see her walking around to the back of her gallery and I get a bad feeling. Out of nowhere. I follow her, to talk with her and try to find out why.”

I thought about that day. I’d just come home, and this strange man followed me onto my deck. He asked if I was really a wicche, said with hair like mine I had to be. His gaze traveled leisurely over me and I dropped my stuff by my back door so my hands were free to cast spells.

I’d known then exactly what he was thinking. He hadn’t been the first predator who’d cornered me with lust and violence in his eyes. For some, I think the fae blood intensifies their obsession. He hadn’t followed me to discuss evil in the modern world. He was the evil and I’d been dealing with his kind since I was a child.

When he’d moved in and tried to loom over me, I’d flicked my fingers and stopped his breathing for five seconds. If he’d been looking to overpower and abuse a woman, he’d stumbled on the wrong one. So, for all the other women out there who didn’t have my magic, I choked him just a little more.

I’d been on the phone with Mom when he’d appeared, and I’d kept the call live so someone would know what was happening. Apparently, she’d called Declan because when I released the man and he’d turned to run, he bounced off the chest of a very angry werewolf.

Declan, eyes wolf gold, had picked up the stalker by his neck with one arm and shook him, threatening him if he ever came back. The stalker wet himself. Declan threw the creep off the deck into the dirt along the side of the gallery and waited until he got up and ran away before he stopped glaring, his muscles bunched and ready to attack.

“It was like she’d been waiting for me to approach her, like a spider in a web. I said ‘excuse me’ so as not to startle her.”

Nope.

“I asked if I could just have a moment of her time.”

Like hell.

“And then she dropped her bag and put her hands on her hips, pulling her clothes tight across her chest, trying to distract me. I didn’t give in to the temptation, though. I looked into those dead green eyes and said again that I didn’t want to bother her. I only wanted to talk.”

How much of a liar did he know himself to be? Had he convinced himself of this alternate history or was this whole thing fabricated to soothe his hurt pride, to blame me for his predatory impulses?

“And then she cast a spell on me, trying to kill me. What she couldn’t seduce, she had to destroy. I couldn’t breathe. She was a good ten feet from me, but she choked me with an invisible hand. I felt her evil hold on me.

“When I finally escaped, her guardian—this seven-foot demon—picked me up off the ground with one hand. I told him she was a witch, and he growled that he was something much worse. I’m telling you. The hair on the back of my neck stuck straight up. I was in the presence of the Devil’s own.”

He blew out a breath. “It’s all true. I got free of them that day and have been going down rabbit hole after rabbit hole, trying to figure out what happened to me. In hindsight, it’s all perfectly clear, but at the time I was trying to convince myself that witches and demons weren’t real.

“I know the truth now. They’re walking among us. On the next episode, I’ll get more into this witch’s background. I’ve been digging and found some very interesting stuff. I’ll even have a few friends and classmates on to discuss what they’ve seen. It’s disturbing as hell. She should have been locked up a long time ago.

“Okay, that’s it for the first episode. Go to my website to let me know what you think and keep your torches lit. We’re going to need them.”