Join Me!!!!

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Join Me!!!!

  Chapter One

  Wayward Witch

  (Guardian of Abaddon)

  Wayward Witch

  By M.T. Harrte

  Copyright ©2019 by M. T. Harrte

  All right reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges in this work of fiction.

  Join Me!!!!

  Join my mailing list for exclusive excerpts for upcoming novels and the chance to win other literary prizes! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PURCHASE. BE SURE TO LEAVE A REVIEW WHEREVER YOU PURCHASED AND ON GOODREADS!!!!

  http://bit.ly/emailharrte

  Dedication

  Dedicated to all the voices in my head. We’ve come a long way, and I’ll keep writing as long as you keep talking.

  Chapter One

  “You are the worst familiar on this side of Abaddon,” I hissed.

  Cecilia, my longtime companion and severely obstinate familiar, narrowed her yellow eyes at me. Her long black tailed swished back and forth, a show of how completely unbothered she was by my irritation.

  “Perhaps,” she purred. “But you are the worst witch in town and that’s a proven fact.”

  I stopped tossing around the pile of laundry and angrily placed my hands on my hips.

  “I’m not the worst,” I snapped. “I’m just unlicensed, there’s a big damn difference. Speaking of license, you better hope I’m not late to take my test this morning or you will end up being one life short.”

  Cecilia rolled her eyes and unfurled her wings to take flight. She soared around the room and took up a new position on one of the ceiling beams.

  “We could have avoided this if you would have brought the lobster I asked for last night. I don’t know why you insist on feeding me that unseasoned bland chicken. It’s absolutely disgusting,” she said.

  I picked up my favorite blue shirt and sniffed the armpits.

  Clean enough. I’m only going to take this damn test and hopefully make it back in time to properly throttle Cecilia like she deserves.

  “We can’t afford lobster every damn night of the week,” I said, reaching for my backpack.

  I grabbed the hot pink scrunchie off my wrist and quickly snatched my hair into a messy bun. If I was a bit braver I would change my auburn hair to something a little less dark. I really liked the honey-hued highlights my mother often wore, but the last thing I needed was to give people another reason to point out how much I looked like her. It’s been years, but I’m still not over her death, although I don’t I’ll ever be over it.

  “We can afford any and everything,” replied Cecilia. “You have the inheritance your parents and grandmother left you. Stop being so damn cheap and live a little. Do you know how rare of a species I am? My palate is too advanced for the peasant food you keep attempting to force on me.”

  Cecilia was right about one thing, she was extremely rare. The half-cat half-bat breed can’t be found anywhere else on this continent and she definitely knows her worth. However, what she doesn’t seem to grasp was the fact my inheritance has strict stipulations in place before I can completely claim it. The small stipend I’m allowed each month was barely enough for us to scrape by with and it has a time limit on it too.

  “I know how rare you are, and I know how annoying you are too,” I snapped. “I can’t touch any of that money until I’m a fully licensed witch. Which may never happen if you keep turning off my damn alarm clock. No license means no wand, which in turn means no inheritance, and no ridiculously expensive lobster for you.”

  She yawned and purred quietly as I continued to dash around the room re-covering the mirrors. An uncovered mirror was an open invitation for a demon to stroll right on in, and Cecilia took the liberty of uncovering every single mirror in the house. When she’s pissed … she’s PISSED.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. “Where are those delivery guys with my supplies,” I muttered. “There’s no way I can re-salt the perimeter of the house without my order and I’m running out of time.”

  “Well,” drawled Cecilia. “I may have accidently canceled the order out of anger.”

  My feet planted into the ground as my blood ran ice cold.

  “You did what?” I bellowed.

  In a blind fit of rage, I picked up a lamp and launched it at Cecilia. She fluttered out of the way just in time, causing the lamp to shatter against the wall. Turning off my alarm clock and uncovering the mirrors was one thing, but canceling my order for the upkeep of these protection spells was completely out of line.

  I’m sure my ancestors didn’t know they built this house right on top of a portal to Abaddon, the eternal place of darkness, a complete haven for all those things that go bump in the dark, but they did. No wonder the land was so cheap, the previous owners couldn’t wait to unload the land and portal issues onto someone else.

  Over the years with a little bit of this and a whole lot of that, we’ve managed to keep the portal closed and the inhabitants right where they belong.

  Even though I’m not able to fully wield magick on my own, my grandmother left just enough spells on a continuous loop to help keep the portal closed. My one job, the only real instructions she left me, was to maintain the upkeep of the spells in place, and Cecilia just royally screwed me over. Without that salt ring the residents of Hollow Hills would be in for some unexpected visitors of the murdering variety.

  “I’ll fix it,” she purred. “My magick is stronger and better than yours anyway. Nothing will come through the portal without permission, so don’t you worry about a thing other than your test.”

  She flitted around the room, just clear of my clenched fists, and landed on top of my backpack.

  I know that offering to undo the disaster she caused was her way of apologizing, but it would take more than an apology to fix this mess.

  “You’ll be late if you don’t leave now,” she said glancing back at the clock.

  Shit. She’s right, but I still want to take the opportunity to choke the hell out of her one good time.

  I stalked across the room and snatched the bag out from under her.

  “You better fix it, Cecilia,” I hissed. “Fast.”

  ***

  I hurried down the sidewalk weaving my way in, out, and around the slowly moving crowd blocking my path.

  “Just a bit further,” I said to myself through gritted teeth.

  The academy wasn’t too far from my house, but a broom would make this journey a hell’uva lot easier. The wide-open sky was easier to navigate through than these crowded ass streets. Hollow Hills was one of a handful of cities completely dedicated to magickal beings determined to live their lives away from non-magickal humans. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, that meant any and everybody wanted to live here. I can kiss my hopes of a broom goodbye if can’t even pass the most basic of magickal tests though. The shitty part was, I could pass the test if given the chance to actually take the damn thing.

  Professor Wilkins, one of only two professors available at the academy to give the test, has been the absolute bane of my existence from day one. Deep down, I think the pinch-faced witch doesn’t want me to actually take the test. I’ve heard whispers of a feud between her and my grandmother in previous years, but I haven’t plucked up the nerve to ask Wilkins about it. I wouldn’t doubt it though, everyone pretty much hated my grandmother, but they respected her enough to never say it to her face. I say it was respect, but if I’m being completely honest, they probably didn’t say it out of fear of what she could and would do to them.

  To be fair, something I’m really not in the mood to be, Wilkins’ ridiculous stringent rules do seem to apply to everybody, but she seemed to delight in my despair a tad bit more whenever I faced the consequences of breaking one of her rules.

  I suspect she would be less of a bitch if she got someone to push her ankles behind her head and give her multiple orgasms back to back. In fact, I’d pay someone to help her relieve some tension if she would just ease up on me a bit.

  Unfortunately, the closer I get to the campus, the more I’m aware of my window of opportunity closing.

  Five minutes.

  My feet propelled me faster and faster toward the classroom as my chest threatened to buckle under the weight of my out of shape lungs attempting to force air into my body.

  Four minutes.

  I bulldozed my way through a gathering crowd

of people protesting about something involving the ethical care of familiars.

  If they had one like mine, they’d definitely change their minds about that. Cecilia was deliberately a handful in addition to being her usual difficult self. Most of the time you don’t hear or see your familiar unless you’re giving an order. Unfortunately, Cecilia was a breed all her own and did what the hell she wanted.

  Three minutes.

  I power walked by the familiar fountain of a witch stirring a cauldron that let me know I wasn’t too far from my final destination.

  Two minutes.

  I pumped my arms up and down as I scurried over the small hill, bringing the building in sight and suddenly hope was on the horizon.

  “I can do this, I can do this,” I chanted as a switched flipped in my brain.

  I grabbed the handles and flung open the doors to the building. My body involuntarily shivered as a cold blast of air greeted me.

  I’m so close. I can practically smell the bugspray-esque perfume Wilkins wears.

  If I have any chance of making it, there’s only one thing left for me to do.

  Run.

  I inhaled sharply and took off into a full-blown sprint, hoping to close the gap between me and the classroom door.

  One minute.

  “I’m here, I’m here,” I wheezed.

  Wilkins filled the doorway and checked her watch. A slow grin spread across her face as she took a step back with her hand on the door.

  “No, no, no!” I shouted. “I’m here! I’m right here. You can see me!”

  Wilkins tapped her watch and shook her head just before slamming the door in my face.

  I quickly glanced at the clock on the wall near the door and my heart tightened in my chest.

  Six seconds past nine o’clock. No fucking way.

  I pounded on the door in disbelief despite the fact she’s done this to me before. She stepped back into the window portion of the door and glared at me through the glass.

  Her raven hair with streaks of grey spread throughout was snatched into a severe looking bun on the top of her head and her thin lips pulled into a thin straight line.

  “Registrar … now,” she hissed.

  Chapter Two

  I gathered the shattered remnants of my pride and trudged toward the registrar’s office.

  I can’t believe this is happening. It will be weeks before I’m eligible to take the test again. Cecilia sure as shit better make herself scarce tonight.

  This was so fucked up. I was ready this time. I studied until my eyes ached, dinner was early last night, and I set my alarm to wake me up an hour earlier than usual. All of that preparation went straight down the drain all because I didn’t have the budget for lobster.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled my frustration.

  There has to be an upside to this, something positive I can hold on to.

  I stopped in front of the registrar’s office and glanced up at the community notice board at the open classes available, and gasped.

  “You have got to be shitting me!” I yelled a little too loudly as the people around me shot glares in my direction for disturbing them.

  Bierman has one opening and this may be my only shot to get the hell away from Wilkins. I’ll finally have a chance to get a professor who’s not batshit crazy.

  I quickly made my way inside and hurried down the hall to my counselor’s office. Someone else was already in there so I made myself comfortable right outside the door.

  See, having a positive outlook on things can help turn a situation around. I looked for the good in this shitty situation and actually found it this time.

  The door swung open and the girl inside beamed from ear to ear as she clutched her schedule to her chest.

  I feel you girl. I’m next. That unrelenting joy is about to be in my grasp too.

  My counselor, Ms. Bimini, stood in the doorway and frowned at me a bit before gesturing for me to come into her office.

  “Back again, Charlette? What happened this time?” she asked, tugging on her shirt.

  I glanced at her blouse as the buttons strained against her ample bosom and struggled to bring my focus back to her round face and rosy cheeks.

  A bigger shirt will fix that problem instantly. If that button goes flying off, I’m sure one of us is gonna lose an eye.

  “Late,” I mumbled.

  Ms. Bimini closed her eyes and dropped her head. “I had to beg Wilkins to let you back into her class this last time and you still managed to be late again.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” I huffed. “Cecilia turned off my alarm clock and I tried to get here on time, I really did. In fact, I was only six seconds late and Wilkins still slammed the door in my face.”

  “Oh Lettie,” she said, her voice dropping a bit as she took on the more aunt-like tone I’ve come to expect from my mom’s best friend.

  She tried to keep things as professional as possible at work, but she will forever be Aunt Belinda or Aunt Belle if I’m feeling extra sentimental.

  “It doesn’t matter if it’s six seconds or six minutes, you know how Wilkins is,” she said. “You have simply got to get a handle on that willful familiar of yours. Is she the witch running this show or is it you? Melvin wouldn’t dream of taking matters into his own hands to do something without permission.”

  Melvin, Aunt Belinda’s familiar, sat quietly on the end of her desk, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth. She’s right, the giant lizard wouldn’t dare make a move without her say so. It’s a wonder he can move at all given how fat he is.

  “A well-placed kick should help straighten her out,” she suggested.

  A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “You better not let those people near the campus square hear you say that.”

  Aunt Belinda rolled her eyes and twirled her wand around in her hand.

  “Those people are absolutely crazy. Familiars are helpers, guides, magickal beings sent here to assist witches and wizards. They aren’t some docile house pet like the ones humans take a fancy to.”

  She’s right and I know she’s right, but despite how angry Cecilia makes me on a regular basis, I’d never make good on my threats. I don’t actually want to hurt her. We try to work together instead of taking on the standard “do what I say” type of relationship.

  “I’m working on her,” I replied defensively. “Her breed just has a tendency to be a little difficult to deal with on occasion.”

  Aunt Belinda shook her head and reached out to stroke Melvin. He closed his eyes and leaned in.

  “If you can’t reign her in and demand her obedience, then you need to replace her,” she said. “I told your mother when she bought her that it was a bad decision, and I was right.”

  I sighed and sat back in the armless chair. I’ll do a lot of things, but replacing Cecilia wasn’t one of those things.

  Not only was she my companion, but my mother searched far and wide to find her for me when I was born. Only death would separate us and I meant that with every fiber of my being.

  Aunt Belinda turned toward her notepad and started flipping through the pages.

  “I went ahead and signed you up for the next class just in case things didn’t work out this time,” she said trying to hand me the slip of paper.

  “Wilkins is determined to put a cap on the number of times you can take the class specifically because of you so believe me when I say this is the last time.”

  I didn’t take the paper being shoved in my face. I beamed back at my aunt and cleared my throat.

  “I don’t want Wilkins,” I said. “I saw on the notice board that Bierman has an opening and I want in.”

  Aunt Belinda’s face dropped a bit as the rosy pink hue from her cheeks made its way down her neck.

  “Bierman doesn’t have any openings,” she said. “The girl that was in here took the last spot.”

  “What!” I shrieked. “Aunt Belinda why didn’t you put me down for his class when you saw there was an opening?”

  “You’re supposed to call me Ms. Bimini while we’re in the office and you know that. I couldn’t put you down for that class even if I wanted to. He has a two-year waiting list right now so you have no chance of getting in with him. Everybody who drops Wilkins’ class tries to get in with Bierman, so you’ll be waiting for quite a while.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10