Witch please, p.1
Witch, Please..., page 1
WITCH, PLEASE...
THE UNDOUBTABLE ROSE BEAUFONT™ BOOK 11
SARAH NOFFKE
MICHAEL ANDERLE
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LMBPN® Publishing
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Las Vegas, Nevada 89119 USA
Version 1.00, February 2024
eBook ISBN: 979-8-88878-403-7
Print ISBN: 979-8-88878-811-0
THE WITCH, PLEASE... TEAM
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Diane L. Smith
Daryl McDaniel
Veronica Stephan-Miller
Dorothy Lloyd
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Dave Hicks
Christopher Gilliard
Jan Hunnicutt
Angel LaVey
For William, who is as noble as the first Beaufont.
— Sarah
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
to Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
to Live the Life We Are
Called.
— Michael
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
The Story Continues
Sarah’s Author Notes
Michael’s Author Notes
Books By Sarah Noffke
About Sarah
Books By Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
CHAPTER ONE
Château des Ombres, Outskirts of Paris, France
Mater Inferni had never wanted to murder anyone as much as Rose Beaufont. In all her one-hundred and fifty years, the Mother of Witches had hated many, many people, but none more than that Mortal Seven who was ruining all that she’d worked for. Not only had the half-magician and half-mortal witch hunter single-handedly ended the Shadow Walkers, one of the strongest covens in the world, but she’d killed Mefora Payne, one of Mater Inferni’s most powerful witches.
Everything was quickly falling apart with the various covens around the world. The Mortal Seven were cracking down on them more than ever before. They’d gotten bold with Mefora Payne’s lead, breaking the agreement with the House of Fourteen and creating chaos in the world and now they were paying the price.
It was all because witches had taken their rightful place, putting their hands on the steering wheel for once and using their magic daringly. They had quit hiding in the shadows and bowing to the orders of magicians. They’d taken the powerful roles they deserved.
But Rose Beaufont was ruining all that.
Mater Inferni knew that the witch hunter was coming for the Sovereign Shadows coven next, and that meant her. But she was about to meet her match. The mother of witches would not have everything she’d built and worked for destroyed by a halfling. It was witches’ time to rule—no matter how many of them had to perish to protect the Mother of Witches to win this war.
“You are going to die and very soon,” she said, looking down at the wizard lying on the sofa in her study. His face had a long gash with black spider veins spraying around it on his skin, quickly spreading. Whisper of Wyrm’s pale skin was covered in a layer of sweat which dripped down onto the sofa, soaking it.
“W-Wh-When?” he stuttered through a ragged breath.
“It’s hard to say,” she replied, putting her back to him and striding over to the open door of the balcony. “Probably in the next several days. Maybe a week.”
“Isn’t there anything that you can do?” Gloom Weaver asked, pressing a towel to the warlock’s head as she spoke over her shoulder to Mater Inferni.
“He’s been cut by Maternus, the Mother of all Knives,” she replied matter-of-factly as she surveyed the grounds around the Château des Ombres, the headquarters for the Sovereign Shadows. “The wound will not heal. It will only get worse, poisoning his body until he dies.”
“But there must be something we can do, right?” the witch asked, continuing to dote on Whisper of Wyrm. “We can’t just let him die.”
“People die,” Mater Inferni said plainly, watching as the clouds rolled in over the vineyard in the distance. “That’s how the world works. He battled with those witch hunters and they won.”
“But I got away,” the warlock argued, through a cough that soon turned into a fit, making him double over, sending Gloom Weaver back.
Mater Inferni turned just in time to see him spit out blood into his open hand. The man had less time than she thought. He might be dead before the night.
“You got yourself cut by a deadly knife,” Mater Inferni argued. “It would have been better for you if you let them kill you. What is it that they were after? What did they steal?”
“N-N-Nothing,” he stuttered, trying to catch his breath as he sat doubled over. However, the Mother of Witches caught the way his eyes skirted up to meet hers and away. He was lying.
“Why did they pursue you?” Mater Inferni asked. “You said the man, Mortal Seven Carraway, followed you to your house.”
“I-I-I don’t know,” he lied again, this time refusing to make eye contact.
Deciding that pressuring a dying man into giving up his secrets was a waste of her time, Mater Inferni turned her attention to her second in command who was busy filling up a glass of water for Whisper of Wyrm. “Tell me, Gloom Weaver, do you have the protection wards reinforced for our headquarters? I suspect that we might be under attack soon.”
“Yes,” the witch replied, handing the glass of water to the dying man. He nearly spilled it on himself with his trembling hands. “You mustn’t worry about anyone finding our location, Mater Inferni. I have it hidden using the Lantern of Truth. Unless the little witch hunter finds that, then she won’t find us. She can walk through this house and not see us due to the powerful magic of how the Lantern of Truth hides us.”
“Underestimating the halflings is exactly how we’ve gotten to where we are,” Mater Inferni spat, pointing at the dying warlock. “Whisper of Wyrm will soon be dead. Mefora Payne and her coven are all gone or have been arrested by the House of Fourteen. I need you to be absolutely certain that there is no way that Rose Beaufont can find us. If she does, then this war will end and I fear that it will be with all of your deaths.”
“But what about you?” Gloom Weaver asked, her bottom lip suddenly quivering with fright.
“I’m almost invincible,” the Mother of Witches replied at once.
“Are you certain?” Whisper of Wyrm questioned, the three words making him sputter out a bloody cough.
Mater Inferni spun to face him, looking down at the man. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you must be absolutely certain that you can’t be killed,” he said through ragged breaths.
“What is it that you’re hiding?” she asked,
“Nothing,” he said, not looking at her. “You believe that you hold our souls inside you, giving you great power. I simply worry what it will do to mine if something happens to you.”
“Do you?” she asked, not believing this. He was up to something. Or he had been. But now he was going to die and that was probably for the best. “Your soul will soon leave me when you’re dead, within days. Don’t worry for the others’ souls that I store. Instead, take care of your affairs. You don’t have long.”
Mater Inferni then strode for the door, snapping at Gloom Weaver to follow her. “Let’s go and give the coven orders. I want them tracking down Rose Beaufont. Then I want them to find a way to stop her—this ends now.”
CHAPTER TWO
Dining Room, Beaufont Residence, West Hollywood, California, United States
“Would you rather know the exact date and time of your death or have it be a complete surprise?” Elvis asked, juggling a couple of mini blueberry muffins in the air at the Beaufont dining room table.
Rose glanced up from her bowl of mixed berries with a side of granola and sighed. “I already know that you’re planning to kill me and that it’s going to be a prolonged and painful experience, so it won’t be a surprise. But don’t spoil it and tell me when you’ll actually annoy me to death.”
He huffed, picking up another mini muffin and attempting to add it to the rotation of juggling. “I’m here to keep you alive, although it’s an arduous and unending task. I’m not here to kill you by way of annoyance. Most people find my speculations and observations to be quite humorous and insightful.”
“Who?” she asked at once, picking up a jumbo blueberry from the bowl and popping it into her mouth. “Name five people right now.”
He dropped all of the muffins, giving her a look like she was the one who caused them to land on the white tablecloth, sprinkling crumbs. “Fine, Mick, Keith, Charlie, Ronnie and Brian.”
“Those are the names of the members of the Rolling Stones,” Clark said, striding into the dining room and carrying another batch of mini muffins, these smelling of cinnamon, apples and walnuts.
“Oh, well, yeah, they think that I’m delightful and love my astute reflections,” Elvis said, his eyes widening at the sight of the piping hot muffins nestled in the wicker basket and ready for his consumption.
“Yeah, when was the last time that you were hanging out with the Rolling Stones?” Rose asked, hiding her snicker.
“Well, before the restraining order, all the time,” Elvis replied, diving forward and digging into the basket, handling all of the mini muffins until he found the exact right one. “But I get it. They were afraid that I was spending too much time away from you, so they did the right thing, telling me that it was them who needed space. Really, they just knew that if I wasn’t by my Mortal Seven’s side that she’d bathe with a hair dryer. So they pushed me away to save you. Isn’t that sweet?”
“Like candy,” Rose said, dryly, spooning a bit of the crunchy granola and a raspberry out of the bowl. “So that’s where you’ve been recently when gone? I thought you said that you were playing with rocks.”
He shook his head, his mane of red hair falling into his eyes. “No, I said I was hanging out with the Rolling Stones, if you’d listen to me.”
“I don’t mean to poke holes in your story,” Clark began, taking a seat between Rose and Elvis, in his usual spot. “But two of the members of the Rolling Stones aren’t alive anymore.”
“Yeah, but when I’m rocking with the guys, their memory is very much with us,” Elvis said proudly, flicking his tail as he floated beside the table. “And the dead always enjoy my insightful observations and ponderous questions, which is what we were talking about originally.”
Rose nodded, glancing at her father. “He was asking me how I wanted to die.”
“I was not,” Elvis argued, his mustache puffing up like an angry cat’s tail. “I was asking you about knowing when you’d die. But since you brought it up, would you rather die by drowning or by fire?”
Rose pointed at the Chinese dragon, looking at her father. “See, he’s plotting my demise.”
“I’m not sure this is good breakfast conversation,” Clark replied, shaking his head and managing a laugh. “Also, I never want to discuss your death, regardless of the time of day or what we’re doing.”
Elvis held up his fists, one with a cinnamon apple muffin and the other with a blueberry. “Especially now that you know that Rose is probably going to give up her immortal status to breed with London and save the mortals from throwing a big fit about not having magic.”
“The way you put things is…” Rose trailed away, shaking her head at the chimera.
“Eloquent,” Elvis supplied.
“Rude,” she corrected. “Just plain rude and oversimplified.”
“I just say it like it is,” he said, taking a bite off the apple muffin and then from the blueberry, like creating a new concoction in his mouth, mixing the flavors together.
Clark set down his own muffin, like he was suddenly not hungry for it. Elvis had a way of ruining people’s appetite, but that was mostly so he could steal their food. “I know that considering whether to give up your immortal status as a demigod with London is still new. You don’t have to make a decision yet. Or you can change your mind.”
Rose shook her head, pushing away her half-eaten bowl of berries and granola. “No, it’s the path that our lives need to go. And it doesn’t feel wrong. I mean, I get a normal lifespan and have already found my person, my other half. Some people live a long life and never have that. They don’t get to know that their life is what can fix an age-old problem. I don’t think of this as a curse. I’ve been given a gift and I’m fully embracing it.”
Her father smiled at her proudly. “You continue to amaze me. How can you be so wise and so young?”
“She has me to thank for that,” Elvis said through a mouthful of crumbs.
“I have you to thank for a lack of sanity,” Rose teased.
“Are we blaming our dwindling sanity on our familiars?” Liv asked, speeding out of the hallway and over to the table, like she had been a part of the conversation since the beginning. She picked up a blueberry muffin and tossed it in the air before catching it. “If so, I’m blaming Plato for my off-the-charts level of crazy.”
“I’d say he keeps you from losing your mind,” Clark replied, smiling up at his sister, an amused expression on his face.
Liv took a bite of the muffin, shaking her head at her brother. “Right, because talking to a cat who randomly appears and disappears totally doesn’t make me insane.” She pointed at Rose with her pinky, the rest of her hand full with the half-eaten muffin. “How’s the extracurricular reading going?”
Rose sighed, glancing at the book sitting next to her at the breakfast table. “You mean The Serpent’s Codex written by a crazy warlock who was trying to detail how to bring down the Mother of Witches?”
“Well, I definitely don’t think she was referring to the joke book I keep leaving for you to read,” Elvis teased. “Hint. Hint, Rose. Learn some jokes. It will do you good.”
“I’ll leave the bad jokes to you,” Rose fired back before smiling up at her aunt. “And it’s not going so well. Why can’t books in the magical world just be normal?”
Liv popped the rest of the muffin into her mouth. “Because magic makes things crazy, much like our familiars make us.”
“That’s true about magic,” Clark said, giving his daughter a thoughtful expression. “And what’s going on with The Serpent’s Codex? Is it like Kaitlyn’s book on the Shadow Walker coven? Can you not understand it because the warlock spelled it?”
“No, but it’s probably due to some protection the Whisper of Darkness or whatever he goes by did to it,” Rose answered. “All I know is that the words keep disappearing randomly. It’s like I can only read certain ones on a page at a time. Then they show back up but then others vanish. It’s impossible to understand what I’m reading.”
“Have you considered photocopying it and then laying the pages over to fill in the blanks?” Elvis asked, picking out the jumbo blueberries from Rose’s leftovers and popping them in his mouth.
