Witch Wanted Page 3

  She fought down nausea.

  “ ...notgonnabesick...notgonnabesick...notgonnabesick...” she muttered to herself, swallowing and breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. Anything to avoid vomiting. She hated to be sick. Hated it with a passion. To the point she’d skip anything that looked even slightly undercooked.

  Once it no longer felt like she would see the contents of her stomach soon, she looked around. Yup. Still on a road who-knew-where. It wasn’t England. That was for sure. She was a city witch and much preferred not to get up close and personal with nature, but she could tell the weather and vegetation was all wrong.

  “Where the fuck...?” she muttered, twisting on the case to look around.

  The road stretched out in front and behind her. Two directions. No sign. Great. Just fucking great.

  Reaching into her pocket, she pulled her cards out, shuffling them in one hand—a nervous gesture as she tried to figure out what to do. Yeah, sure, her boots were good for walking, but that didn’t mean she was. She could make her way across the city, but that wasn’t actually walking. The tube could get her everywhere, and if not, there was always the bus service. She never needed to walk more than two streets at a time, and not with her suitcase in tow.

  “Huuuuunnccckk! HuuuunnnNNCKK!”

  Livvy jumped at the explosive sound behind her and swiveled on her case.

  Something furry stood in the middle of the road looking at her. It hadn’t been there before. She wouldn’t have missed something that ugly.

  It was a dog. At least, she thought it was. It was dog-shaped, but tiny. Small enough to fit under her arm if she picked him up, like a furry purse. Which was kinda cute. But there, any cuteness ended.

  It was black and fur stuck out in odd angles and tufts all over, almost as if nature hadn’t been able to choose between smooth-haired, rough-haired or... she squinted a little... wire brush.

  It had the kind of face only a mother could love. Bulbous, watery eyes looked at her in confusion, set above what she thought was a nose. Squished back it streamed continuously with snot that looked like it could have an industrial application. Its jaw was underslung with bottom teeth protruding up over its top lip. If all that wasn’t bad enough, ears of different sizes and shape were stuck to the top of its head like an afterthought. It had a scrawny little body with stubby legs but its feet were huge, with furry floofs over the toes.

  “Hey there,” it said, attempting a smile. It wasn’t a pretty sight. “Yesyesyes... How you doin’?”

  She about fell off her suitcase.

  “Okay. Wow. A talking dog. I must have hit my head on something on the train.”

  She’d wake up in a moment, surrounded by eighteen agents, and find this whole thing had been a dream. Made sense. Who used long distance ‘ports these days?

  The dog’s ugly face twisted into a picture of abject sadness, and tears filled its frog-like eyes.

  “I did something wrong already, didn’t I?” it said miserably, sitting down on the asphalt. How something so tiny could make a thump as it sat down, she had no idea, but it did. A big, fat tear splashed to the ground as it sniffled.

  “Hey, no... you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, worried about the sheer amount of snot now being produced. “Why would you think that?”

  “Th-th-th-this is my f-f-f-f-first time.” It held back sobs with an effort. “I-I-I-I-I-I-I never t-t-thought I-I-I’d be picked, aaaaann nnnd you don’t want me!” it wailed, throwing itself on the ground and covering its face with fluffy paws.

  Her heart broke. Yeah, it was as ugly as shit but she never could resist someone in pain.

  “Hey no,” she said, scooting off her suitcase to kneel down next to it.

  Hesitantly, she patted the top of its head. She wasn’t an animal person, so she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Stroke it? Pick it up and cuddle it? (She shuddered at that thought. It was a damn snot factory.) Throw a stick for it?

  “It’s okay. I do want you. Stop crying. Please?”

  The sobs that had been racking its little body eased somewhat, and it peeked out from under one paw. “You love me?”

  “Well... it’s early days.” The tiny little ribcage heaved again warningly. “Yes, yes,” she said. “I think I could love you. You’re kinda cute. Ugly, but cute.”

  “Really? You swear?”

  The little dog emerged from under its paws. The smile that broke across its face was like a sunrise and it jumped up, wagging its tail. The tiny little stub wagged so much the movement spread like an infection until its whole body shook from side to side. She stopped it falling over and it yipped in delight, jumping up into her arms.

  “Ohmigodohmigodohmigod!” She was forced to fend off slobbery kisses. “Yesyesyes... I’ve wanted to be a familiar for like ever and now you’re here and I am!”

  “Wait. What?” She stopped fending off and looked down at the snotty bundle of fur. “Did you say familiar? You can’t be. Not mine anyway. I’m not a witch.”

  She’d lived her life on the edges of the magical world. Only witches and warlocks got familiars. There were no exceptions.

  The little dog looked at her and then shook. At first, she thought it was crying again and braced herself to be covered in snot. (She’d worked retail. Once. For an afternoon. So she’d been covered in worse. Maybe. Actually... no.)

  But it wasn’t crying. If she had to guess, it was laughing.

  “N-n-not a witch!” it chortled, becoming a boneless furry bundle in her arms as it shook harder. “NOT A WITCH!!”

  “I’m not!” she argued. “If I was, how are you only showing up now? Huh? Answer me that.”

  Now on its back, it stopped laughing, although it retained the canine grin as it looked up at her. “Paperwork got lost. They only just found it... it had fallen down the back of a desk.”

  She sighed. That figured. It was just her luck. They’d probably realize tomorrow they’d made a mistake. But... her agile mind was quick to latch on to one fact. She was turning up to a job she’d basically lied on the application for by saying she was a real witch, but now she had a familiar too! Talk about validation.

  “Okay, fuzzface. You’re my familiar... so what do I call you?”

  He hopped up to sit in her arms like a little king. “Oh, I’m Fuckoff,” he said happily. “Or you can call me by my formal name Ohgodthat’sfuckingugly if you like.”

  Holy crap. She gave him a look, horrified. Yeah, the little animal was as ugly as sin, but everyone deserved an actual name. “And I’m your witch, right? Does that mean I can name you if I want?”

  “Yesyesyes.” He nodded enthusiastically, almost falling from her arms. “You can call me what you like.”

  “Then we’re going with Fuzzy until I can think of something better,” she said firmly, setting him on the ground. “Okay then, Fuzzy. Lead the way to our new home.”

  “Yesyesyes ... follow me. It’s this way.”

  Livvy grabbed the handle of her suitcase, hauling it upright, and followed the little dog creature as it trotted off down the road.

  MI:18’s most wanted to a mountain witch with a familiar in one day? Not bad going...

  4

  “So, you have family?” Livvy asked as she and her new familiar walked toward the town.

  Well, she walked. Fuzzy skipped. Sideways. Like a crab. One of his legs appeared to be shorter than the other so he kept veering off to one side. She’d never seen anything walk that way before. Every so often she had to scoop him up and turn him around so he was going the right way. If it wasn’t so tragic, it would be as funny as fuck.

  “Yesyesyes!” the little dog replied happily, licking her hand as she turned him around so he could skip off again. “I’m from a large litter. All familiars now,” he added proudly. “I was the last one. The smallest.”

  The last sentence wasn’t as chirpy, a sad note in it that tugged at her heartstrings.

  “Did they...” Oh, shit, how did you ask someone
if they’d been bullied? “You were the runt, weren’t you? And then not a familiar? That can’t have been easy for you.”

  The little dog’s ears drooped. There was the suspicion of a sniffle.

  “It was fine. I know it was all in good fun,” he said bravely, but she heard the sadness in his voice.

  Like fuck it had been in good fun. She knew what people were like, and they were bad enough if someone didn’t fit in. She could only imagine familiars were the same. Bastards. They’d given him... at least she thought Fuzz was a he, but there was too much fur to tell... a shit name.

  “I’m sure it was,” she said as she scooped him up again. This time she gave him a little scratch on top of the head before she put him back down again. When she did, he trotted at her side, but this time his ears were perky and happy.

  “Yesyesyes... I wonder what this town will be like?” He growled as he investigated a leaf, jumping as it skittered away from him. She figured he probably didn’t get out much.

  “I don’t know, but they advertised for a witch and it has lodgings so I’m sure we’ll be comfortable enough.” Anywhere would be comfortable if she didn’t have eighteen on her tail.

  They walked for a few minutes, her suitcase wheels and Fuzzy’s occasional growls at leaves, stones or whatever else took his fancy the only sounds punctuating the silence.

  Then she squinted, looking at something in front of them in the road. There was a shimmer in the air, like heat haze over asphalt on a hot day but higher. It was a wall of the stuff.

  “Fuzzy,” she said, her voice wary as she waved her hand for him to slow down. She didn’t want him running on if it was dangerous. Heaven help her, she was already protective of the snotty little thing. “Can you see that up ahead?”

  The little dog stopped instantly, taking a few steps to the side to sit down. He leaned against her leg as he squinted. “Oh, yes. That’s probably the edge of the town.”

  Huh. She’d never seen that before, but then, she’d never been outside of London in her life.

  “Is that... normal? Like, does everyone see that?” She phrased her question carefully, trying to conceal her complete lack of knowledge. She was supposed to be a witch, even had a familiar... that fact was still sinking in. They had to have made a mistake.

  “Nope.” Fuzzy looked up at her, a happy little grin on his face. “But your file says you’re a hedgewitch, which means you see the barriers between things.”

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded. “And you do because you’re my familiar?” she guessed.

  “Yesyesyes!” His little tail thumped against her leg.

  Okay. That made sense. Then she frowned at him.

  “There’s a file on me?”

  That was news to her. Who the hell had a file on her and why didn’t she know about it?

  “You know there are laws about keeping information on people in Europe, right? There was a big hoo-ha about it a couple of months ago... to stop all the spam email and shit? Did fuck all to stop it if you ask me,” she added. “Still, if someone has a file on me, I want to know about it.”

  “All witches have files. How else would your familiars know how to serve you?” Fuzzy chirped in reply.

  Huh. Put like that, it made sense. She turned her attention to the barrier as they approached it. Now she knew what it was, it was far less scary. Just like a thermocline in the water, where hot met cold, or fresh met salt. She could see the town in the distance on the other side but it was out of focus.

  “So... I’m a hedgewitch then. Are they... good witches?” she asked hesitantly, not wanting to give away her ignorance. “Like powerful?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Fuzzy stopped and looked at her in shock. “Hedgewitches are awesome! Like you guys can see the barriers everywhere...” He scooted closer, leaning up her leg again. “Even between this world and others. Yesyesyes. Big, powerful stuff.”

  Interesting. She’d always wondered what sort of witch she’d make. Big and powerful was excellent news.

  Taking a breath, she gripped the handle on her suitcase tighter and stepped through the haze. For a second, she felt resistance, as though the barrier itself was studying her, working out if she was worthy to step through. Panic filled her. What if it knew she wasn’t a real witch and refused to let her in? The game would be up straight away and they’d kick her out. Send her back to face MI:18.

  There was a snap and she tumbled through, staggering a little. Relief washed over her as she looked over her shoulder at it.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, as Fuzzy trotted through.

  “See? The hedges like you!” He whistled between his teeth at the town finally in view beneath them. “Our new home! I wonder which one is ours?” he asked, already trotting forward with his misshapen tail held upright like a banner.

  “I don’t know. Hopefully something nice,” she said as she caught up with him. Before they’d gone too far though, the sound of running water got her attention. To the left of the road, in a ditch, was a small stream. It ran beside the road for a while and then disappeared beneath it, presumably underground into a storm drain or something.

  “Hold up a moment,” she called out to Fuzzy, reaching into her inner pocket for her hip flask.

  Unscrewing the top, she knelt next to the stream and reached down. The ice-cold bite of the water made her suck a quick breath in, her fingers instantly going numb. Bloody hell, that was cold. Even so, she held the small flask under the water and watched the bubbles rise as it filled. Made of silver, it would help consecrate the water within.

  It was something she’d picked up from her nanna, a little habit that never made sense but she did anyway. Mostly to keep nanna’s memory alive. Nanna had called it “sacred water,” collecting it from either the river, or, when she could drag Livvy out of bed early enough, collecting it from the dew from the tips of the grass in the nearest parks.

  She’d kept the flask in her pocket, adding a drop or two to every drink. Many people had assumed she was an alcoholic. It was a fair assumption, given she always appeared to drink out of a hip flask, but Livvy knew better. Her nanna always said the sacred water was good for protection. The best thing for protection.

  Livvy wasn’t sure from what though. Not that type of protection, that was for sure...

  The rustle of undergrowth and a small sound like a tap had been turned on made her look up. Just in time. Fuzzy was upstream from her, squatting to do his business.

  “Fuzz!” she squeaked, yanking her hand and the flask out of the water. “Lady’s sake, warn me when you’re gonna do that, would you?”

  “Yesyesyes!” the little dog agreed, wriggling its butt as it finished. She deliberately didn’t look. There were things that couldn’t be unseen. “Promise!” it chirped, trotting over to her. “Good water?”

  “The best,” she said with a smile. Even better when it didn’t have dog piss in it, but she didn’t say that aloud. They’d have to work on Fuzzy’s... toilet habits.

  “Let’s get a move on, shall we?” She tucked the hip flask away in her jacket pocket.

  The two walked side by side into town. And there, any comfortable, happy feelings normally roused by a sleepy little town disappeared.

  It was abandoned. Or at the least, no one was on the streets. But she could feel them, the townsfolk, watching them from behind the windows. They were good. Very good. There wasn’t even the twitch of a drape, or the suspicion of a shadow behind the net curtains.

  The mood in the air turned to unfriendly and suspicious.

  Fuzzy drew closer to her leg, a little whine in the back of his throat, and abruptly she wondered if the papers tomorrow would scream London witch and familiar murdered and eaten by cannibal mountain men!

  It would be just her luck. Especially as she hadn’t double checked that the advert was on the level. Normally she would have, but a girl with MI:18 on her tail didn’t have the advantage of much time.

  Tension crawled over her shoulders, raising the hackles on the
back of her neck as every instinct she had told her to run. The sound of an engine filled the air, raw and immediate, and she spun around.

  She spotted the truck reversing at the same moment she saw Fuzzy, right there in its path. The little dog had stopped, eyes wide and frozen in terror, as the metal behemoth bore down on it.

  A scream of warning erupting from her chest, she dived forward, shoving her familiar out of the path of the truck.

  THUD! SQUEAL!

  Pain exploded through her body, and it felt like she’d been hit, not by a truck, but at least a train... Or maybe a herd of elephants.

  “Fuck me!” She let out a groan as she slid to the ground, trying to get a breath into lungs that felt like they’d been squashed flat.

  “Nonono!” Fuzzy whimpered, crowding around her face. Dog hair didn’t help when she was trying to breathe through busted lungs, and she tried to push him away. But he cried and crowded closer.

  There was the sound of a door slamming and the heavy thud of footsteps. Fuzzy shrieked, diving into her arms and trying to hide underneath her.

  “Bear! He’s going to eat us!”

  “Don’t be silly, Fuzz,” she groaned, looking up into the brightest pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. “Bears don’t eat people. They eat honey.”

  She hoped, anyway. Like really hoped.

  Oh my god, he’d hit somebody.

  Heart in his throat, Brock slammed the truck into park and swung the door open. He’d been so concerned about getting ahold of the newspaper office, he hadn’t been paying attention. Now he’d hit somebody.

  Shit.

  He hauled ass out of the truck, faster than he’d ever moved in his life. Bears took a long time to get moving sometimes, but when they needed to they could give any sprinter a run for his money.

  His heart stalled in his chest as ice ran down his spine. He hadn’t seen anybody in his rearview mirror, which meant they were small. Very small. Childlike small.