Witch For Hire (Witch For Hire 1)

This is a mockery of the lushness my state has to offer. I rub my forearms to ward off the chill, and will us to go faster. I’m ready to have this place in my rearview. We reach a dock, tie off the boat, and climb up. The pressure intensifies as the power pushes in on us.

“It’s how they weed the weak from the strong,” Sacha says.

I feel like Little Red Riding Hood as the forest stretches out before us, dark and foreboding. I start forward, taking the lead. Mama Sabine isn’t going to find herself. The twisted trees crowd in around us. The weight of gazes makes me edgy.

“What’s in this forest?” Fel asks.

I hear the crunch of leaves as she moves closer to me. Tiny green spheres of light dance in the distance.

“I don’t think we really want to know the answer to that,” Sacha says.

“Agreed.” I scan the area but never stop moving. Fae like to play tricks, and if you’re not alert, it’s easy to succumb to one of their glamours or fall for a trick. They play a lot rougher than we. What amuses them would have a human in their grave or worse, in a bargain that would never be fair. The tricksters are cruel in this area. Harmonic tones begin to drift toward us. Will-o-the-wisp. As long as we don’t pursue them deeper into the woodland, we’ll be fine.

Sacha looks back toward them.

“Sach—” I begin, seeing the longing in her eyes.

“I know, but they’re so pretty. I have to admire them. I may never see them again.” She turns back again, and her blue and white gypsy shirt bells out at the bottom.

“If you’re lucky, yeah,” Fel says.

I link my arm with Sacha’s, anchoring her to the present. You never know how Fae music will affect you. Some say the most sensible can catch the madness they bring on and abandon their life in search of the promise they hear in the notes. Light begins to break through the branches, and I sigh in relief. We’re nearing the end.

We exit the forest and enter a clearing full of people and buildings. It’s like we’ve stepped back in time. The exterior of the shops are little more than glorified shacks. Fires are burning with cauldrons on top of them, and folks are mingling in all manner of garb.

A figure clad in black steps in front of us. I take two steps back.

“You seem to be in the wrong place.” I struggle to place the oval face, almond-shaped blue eyes, and curly dishwater blond hair.

“We’ve as much right as anyone to be here,” Sacha says.

He clucks his tongue. “Looking for a taste of the forbidden? Because I’m pretty sure I can accommodate you.”

“We’re not interested, Flint,” Fel says.

“Flint Dupuex.” The words are out before I can temper than.

He laughs. “Not the scrawny piss-ant you remember, am I?”

“I never saw you that way. I kind of thought of you as the cool emo dude.” I shrug.

“I heard you were back and things were changing. I didn’t realize we were being so very radical.” The glint in his blue eyes is calculating.

“Our business here has nothing to do with the family. We’re simply paying a visit,” I reply, carefully sidestepping his queries.

He arches a thick eyebrow. “A visit to who?”

“This place is like Vegas, Flint. We know the rules,” I say.

“Happy hunting, Lou Esçhete. I’ll be seeing you.” He wags his fingers

“Sociopath, much?” Sacha scoffs.

“Something. Rumor is his father made him that way with his heavy-handedness and extreme criticism,” Fel says.

“He could never do anything right. That I remember.” I shake my head. “Sad that the sins of our fathers haunt us for life.” I can’t help but think of myself as lucky. I can only imagine what a father who couldn’t accept me as I was would have done to me mentally. Magic starts in the heart and then moves to the head. If you’re distorted in one of those areas, it’s like carrying a bucket with a hole in it.

It’s a strange blend of carnival with people hawking their wears, street food, and people gathered in little clusters. I’d expected it to be more foreign. This is how they lure people in. Show them the good with one hand, while working the bad with the other. It’s nothing more than a slight of hand, which distracts from the reality. In the center of the makeshift village, we locate Sabine’s. A log cabin style, mid-sized home with two towers with A-frames, and a smoking chimney.