Page 2 of Bad Witch

She nodded. “My familiar. His name’s Manfred, but he answers to Manny as well.”

“Is he a dog?” I’d always wanted a dog. “I don’t have a familiar yet.”

“He’s quite a bit bigger than a dog,” she said as she led me to the garden shed and stopped at the door. “And yours will come to you when the time is right.”

I hoped so. “Bigger than a dog? Like a horse?”

She chuckled. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.” She placed the old doorknob against the wood and a bright, warm glow radiated from around it.

“What’s it doing?” I asked before I thought to hold my tongue.

She smiled and didn’t seem annoyed or angry that I’d asked the question. “With this…you can open any door, and you can go anywhere you like.”

“Really?” My magic had grown quite strong, but nothing like that. “Will you show me how to do it?”

“If you’d like.”

“Yes, please.” I’d never be locked in a room ever again if I could do that. I could escape whenever I needed to.

Matilda opened the door, and I gasped. There were no seed trays or garden tools or bags of potting mix. I wasn’t looking at the inside of the garden shed. Instead, there was a cottage just ahead of us, surrounded by forest. “Where are we?” I said, hardly able to believe what I was seeing.

She gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Home.”

Matilda stepped through the door, and I followed—and I never once looked back.

Chapter

One

Tempest

Eleven years later

* * *

The grass was still damp and cool on my bare feet as I walked across the small cemetery and crouched beside the oldest gravestone. The frosty breeze seeped through my cotton nightgown and rustled the leaves in the surrounding trees, but the early spring sun was warm against my bare arms. Happy splashes came from the moat surrounding the cottage, while the bullfrogs sang and hopped around in the fresh morning air.

Breathing deep, I tilted my head back, taking a moment to enjoy my favorite time of the day. Glinda meowed as she came to join me. “I won’t be long,” I said as I placed the empty jar down beside me, took the small hand trowel that rested inside it and loosened some earth. She slinked around me, butting her pure-white head into my hip, making it clear she was ready for her breakfast. She’d shown up a month after Matilda W brought me here. She was very old now, and liked things just so.

“I’m almost done, Glindy,” I said, filling the jar with soil.

Most witches had family cemeteries, places where every member of their coven was buried after they passed over. A witch’s magic never left them, not even in death, and once buried, that magic continued to radiate from their bones, making cemeteries powerful and a coven’s most treasured asset. Every blade of grass, pebble, herb, tree, as well as the soil within its wards held powerful magic. That is why covens grew lush gardens in their cemeteries filled with the most important herbs and plants needed for spells and potions.

For me, and every Matilda that came before me, things were a little different. Yes, our cemetery was just as powerful as the others, but instead of family by blood, it was filled with every female who had fulfilled her duties as a Matilda before she passed.

Every Matilda lived alone, at least until fate led them to their apprentice, and we all remained spinsters. And though I was the only member of our coven actually living, those who had passed on, were still very much active members.

I dusted off my hands and stood, taking in the headstones around me, fifty in all. Their magic surrounded me, warmed me, protected me. They were my family.

Brushing away the dried leaves from the newest stone, I pressed my toes into the soil above Matilda the Wise’s resting place and felt the warmth of her familiar magic flow through me. For a while, I’d had someone here with me. Matilda W, or W as I’d called her when she’d been alive, had raised me like her own, and yes, we still got to speak from time to time, but it was different now, and I missed her terribly. I pressed the tips of my fingers to my lips, then placed them against the stone. “She will rise in power,” I whispered, drawing in a shaky breath. “They will pay with flesh and blood.” The Matildas’ motto, and an adage, they, and now I, lived and breathed.

“Come on, Glindy. Time for breakfast.” She meowed loudly in reply and rushed ahead, but not too far, making sure I followed and didn’t get sidetracked and forget she needed feeding.

The grandfather clock chimed as we walked into the cottage. “Shoot.” The morning had gotten away from me. Again. Quickly slicing up some succulent pieces of meat, I added them to Glinda’s bowl, filled another with biscuits and set them on the floor.” A loud splash came from outside. “I’m coming, Manfred!” I called, then hustled back outside, opened the walk-in chiller on the front porch, grabbed the half a goat I had hanging in there, dragged it onto the small pier, then shoved it into the water with my foot. Manny, my familiar, made his clicking sound, thanking me. “See you later, Manny.” He was the sweetest, most loyal monster to ever live, he was also the oldest being I’d ever encountered, and the familiar of every Matilda since the first of us was created.

I dressed in record time, ran a brush through my hair, tied the heavy mass back, and smiled wide after I finished my makeup and put on my new lipstick. It was pink—not pale, more of a magenta—and I loved it. I’d only discovered makeup recently, and there were all sorts of fun products, some with glitter, others that shimmered, some that were matte and others that were glossy. I loved it all.

Glinda, having already finished her breakfast, smooched my leg, and I leaned down and stroked her narrow back. “You can have a treat when I get home, my sweet girl,” I said, then quickly put on my shoes.