Witched at Birth--A Paris, Texas Romance Page 15

  She frowned. “Huh?”

  “They’re all up here. In that circle thing you witches do with the crazy candles and blood. Aw, hell. Is that really blood?”

  A spear of terror plucked at her gut. “Circle thing?”

  “Yeah. You know the one. The one you make when you’re trying to steal someone’s soul. Like that witch in cellblock X you told me about, who tried to rip her husband’s soul from his body for cheating on her? It’s like that.”

  “Wait, they’re inside the circle, Ic?”

  “Uh, no. They’re outside the circle, all chained together.”

  No. No. No. That couldn’t be right. If they wanted to steal someone’s soul, they had to be inside the circle with the owner of the soul. And hello. If the Council were stealing souls, wouldn’t they know how to do it, for crap’s sake?

  “Winnie? What the hell is going on?”

  “Like I’m the expert on stealing souls, Ic? I’m a Unabomber, remember? Now let’s be clear. The Council members are tied up outside the circle, right?”

  “Yep. Outside all that kooky. Just like on TV.”

  Which meant the demons were trying to harness the energy of the Council members against their will to steal this soul. “And do they look like they need help?”

  “‘Distress’ isn’t a word I’d use lightly.”

  Oh God, this was far worse than she’d ever imagined.

  She was only one witch. How the hell was she going to save the entire parole board from demons?

  “Win?”

  “Please say there’s no more.” Please.

  “Oh, there’s more. They have Lola. Ben, too, and that little shit Wyatt. I mean, I guess it’s Wyatt, because it says so on his backpack.”

  Lola and Ben? Holy hell. She had to do something.

  Think, Winnie, think.

  And then it dawned on her. The monkey in the middle was the one whose soul was up for grabs. “Who’s in the center of the circle, Icabod?”

  “Just Lola.”

  Fear sliced through her. Her mind raced. Who would want to steal Lola’s soul, and why? She was six years old, for hell’s sake. Her soul wasn’t mature enough yet. Winnie’s mind raced to her history class. She wished she’d paid better attention instead of smoking cigarettes with Zelda and cutting.

  Her breathing became shallow, her fear almost immobilizing her. But these demons had Ben and Lola, and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to save them.

  Nothing. Not even if it meant she died trying.

  Get it together, Foster. Think ninja witch. Be the crazy. Use every spell you have in your arsenal and nail these bitches to the wall.

  It was all she had. Maybe if she could distract the demons long enough, everyone else could get Lola out. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what the hell kind of demon could immobilize not only all of the Council, but Baba Yaga? Who was capable of that? Satan?

  Inhaling hard, she shook off her horror. “Icabod, listen closely to me. You’re not going to like it, but I need you to cover me.”

  “Cannonball?”

  “Yes. Hold tight. It’s been a while since I’ve done it, but it has to be done right or I’ll only make a bigger mess. I can’t do it if I’m invisible either because that weakens my powers.”

  “Winnie?”

  “Yes, Icky-Sticky?”

  “I just want you to know one thing.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You’re a good person. I’m sorry we weren’t friends much sooner.”

  She bit her fist to keep from sobbing. “Me too, Icabod,” she whispered. “Are you ready?”

  “Fire away.”

  Rising to her feet, she positioned herself at the bottom of the steps, staying in the shadows to remain out of the demons’ sight.

  The plan was simple—rush them and fire everything she had at them. Somehow she had to get Lola out of that circle before the clock struck midnight, or Lola would be gone forever.

  She licked her dry lips. “On three, Icabod. One—two—three!”

  Spreading her fingers wide, she pulled her arm back as far as she could and let go, sending Icabod into the fray and racing up the stairs to face whatever hell had come here to Earth.

  Chapter Seventeen

  She heard Icabod yell out “Cannonball!” as, head down, she charged the room. Seeing Lola in the middle of that hellish circle almost broke her.

  Seeing Ben tied to Yaga and a terrified Miss Marjorie and BIC, all of them helpless, blood dripping from Ben’s forehead, Yaga’s leg warmers shredded and BIC’s whistle crushed, was a close second.

  Anger filled her—so much rage, she almost had to close her eyes, grip something to hold her in place while she began lobbing anything and everything she had.

  Fireballs swept through the air as she lifted her fists high and threw them like bowling balls. She sent wave after wave of crackling energy. Blue and purple strands of steel-melting heat shot from her fingers, lashing out at demon after demon, singeing their black souls.

  “Winnie! Duck!” Icabod screamed when a flame turned into a massive gaping maw of velvety blackness headed straight for her.

  It just missed her head, but caught her in the hip, knocking her sideways into the chest she’d found Lola and Wyatt sitting on. She smashed into it with such force she cried out, rolling to her side and curling into a ball.

  “Winnie! It’s Wyatt! Stop Wyatt!” Icabod bellowed.

  She pushed herself off the floor, springing to her feet in time to see Wyatt levitating over Lola, as she continued to fight off demons.

  Wyatt was trying to steal Lola’s soul?

  “Wyatt!” she bellowed over the howl of more demons. “Come to Miss Winnie—take my hand!”

  “That’s not Wyatt anymore, Winnie!” Icabod screamed.

  What the hell was going on?

  “Winnie, listen to me. That’s not Wyatt! He’s possessed! Kill the little bastard, Pooh Bear. He has to die or he’ll kill Lola!”

  What was Icabod saying? No. She couldn’t believe it. Wyatt?

  And then Wyatt began to speak in Latin, the words rolling off his tongue, jumbled, fast, furious, until she didn’t know what else to do to shut him up but maybe launch herself at him, knock him out of the circle, take him down.

  But he was just a child. If one of the demons had possessed him, he had no control over what he was doing. If she killed his physical body, there’d be no saving him.

  She felt hysteria well up in her throat, tight and constricting. And the demons continued their pursuit. Every time she took one out, three more appeared.

  Lola’s body began to rise. Wyatt used the palms of his hands to pull at the middle of her body, as though he were bouncing a ball. Up, down, up, down, in a mesmerizing dance of her small form. Her hair streamed toward the floor, her skin was so pale, Winnie feared she was already dead.

  And then Wyatt pulled harder, chanted more words she couldn’t make out, faster and faster.

  Winnie looked to Baba Yaga, whose eyes were wide now, trying to communicate something. She shook her head furiously, struggling against the bonds. Winnie tried to break them. Curling her hands into fists, she battered the air, but to no avail.

  Whoever had created the bond holding them all together, keeping them silent, he was powerful. More powerful than she was. More powerful than Baba Yaga.

  But she had no time to succumb to her fear.

  “Who are you?” she screeched hoarsely. “Show yourself!”

  Wyatt looked at her then and in a split second, his face, as big as a billboard, rushed at hers, snapping so suddenly into her line of vision, she tripped and fell backward.

  “Your worst nightmare!” he howled over her, his mouth turning into a gaping black hole.

  She did a crab-like walk away from the horror of Wyatt’s face, distorted and stretched.

  “Winnie! Do something now. You have to stop him before the stroke of midnight!” Icabod bellowed.

  Her mind whirred, turning over p
ossibilities as she continued to lob balls of energy at the last of the demons, screaming her rage as Lola rose higher above the floor.

  There was only one hope, and she knew what that was. If she wanted to save Ben and Lola and everyone else, she had no choice.

  “Winnie—I know what you’re thinking. No, Winnie! No!” Icabod hollered over the flashes of light, the cold wind as the roof tore off the school and blew away in a clatter of tile and debris.

  But Winnie ignored him. She ignored Ben, his fists attempting to break the invisible chains with his magic. He strained against the bonds, the veins in his neck bluish purple from it, his muscles flexed and tense.

  She ignored Baba and BIC as their cheeks billowed outward against the unseen restrictions placed over their mouths, their screams silent.

  She ignored Wyatt and the words he spewed, his small hands once more pulling, tugging, tearing at Lola.

  She ignored everything but her core—the very depth of her power. She homed in on it, saw it like a living entity, breathing, pulsing, coming to life. Growing bigger, stronger, whirring in colors of flashing light.

  Winnie knew when she let go, when she hit her target, she’d explode.

  But none of it mattered.

  The only thing that mattered was saving Lola and Ben.

  Nothing else mattered.

  As the energy took on a life of its own, she imagined herself as a top—once released, she would slam into Wyatt and he, too, would explode.

  Let go, Winnie. Just let go, a voice from somewhere deep inside her rang out. Let go!

  Releasing her fingers, she opened her mouth, her head falling back on her shoulders, arms spread wide, her eyes rolling back in her head.

  And she roared. Roared so loud, the entire schoolhouse trembled and shook. Pieces of the wall began to crumble around her, the floor began to give way.

  She freed the beast she’d summoned—freed her rage and let it set its sights on Wyatt.

  Then she let go.

  She became one with her anger—one with a power that might have stunned her, had she not been so afraid for Ben and Lola.

  As Winnie rammed into Wyatt, the force creating a screech of sparks and a ball of intense energy, she let out one last rebel cry before there was nothing.

  “Winnie? Jesus Christ, babe—wake up!”

  Her eyes opened in increments, surfacing from the black, dense space she’d been in to find Ben staring down at her. He hauled her up to his chest, pulling her tight to him. “Are you okay?”

  She moaned against his shoulder. She felt as if someone had pulled her apart molecule by molecule then stuck her back together again.

  “Yaga?” Lola asked, her sweet voice music to Winnie’s ears. Thank God she was all right.

  “Yes, precious?”

  “Why is Winnie’s nose on her ear?”

  Winnie sniffed, her nostrils sucking in something hard that smelled like silver.

  Oh Jesus. Her nose was on her ear.

  Baba Yaga chuckled. “Because she instituted a very old spell. One that sometimes creates a centrifugal force bigger than we witches can handle. But I’ll fix it, lovey. No worries. Now off with you. Miss Greta will take you home and Auntie Yaga will see you in the morning for breakfast. Give me a squeeze.”

  Ben held her tighter, kissing her forehead. “You’re something else, Winnie Foster.”

  “I’m afraid to answer for fear my mouth is somewhere south of my face.”

  Ben barked a laugh, pressing his lips to the top of her head. If that was still the top of her head. She couldn’t tell.

  “I’m crazy about you, Winnie Foster.”

  “I’m a bad bet, Yagamawitz. You’ll regret saying that.”

  “The hell I will,” he muttered fiercely. “That’s what I went upstairs to tell you tonight before we came to see Council, but then you were gone and Lola went missing and everything went to shit.”

  “By ‘shit’ I’m guessing you mean the soul-sucking circle.”

  “When I got here, I heard Lola calling to me but you were nowhere to be found. Wyatt, who I’m guessing isn’t really Wyatt, told me she was up here. That’s when I found Yaga and Greta and the rest of the Council.”

  “Who is Wyatt if he isn’t Wyatt?”

  “I’m not sure I understand it fully. I almost don’t want to know. I just need you to promise me something.”

  Her body was beginning to relax, and with that relaxation came some serious aches and pains. “If it has to do with me moving off the couch for at least a week, you’re barking up the wrong witch.”

  “It has to do with you staying here—with Lola—with me—always.”

  Warmth spread through her limbs. “And why would you want me to do that?”

  “Because I love you, Winnie Foster. Even with your penchant for blowing things up, even as impulsive and irrational as you are. And keeping you around is a smart move on my part. Who needs a bodyguard with you in the mix?”

  Now she chuckled then groaned. “I love you, too.” So, so much.

  Baba Yaga bent down, her purple leg warmers coming into Winnie’s line of vision. “Can you give us a few minutes, Benjamin?”

  “Baba, I’m going to tell you right now, if you give her an ounce of shit, I’ll leave and never look back. She saved all of us. Most importantly, she saved my niece.”

  Winnie’s heart fluttered in her chest at how possessive Ben’s words were. At least she hoped it was her chest.

  Baba Yaga chuckled. “I know what she did, and now we need to discuss it. But I promise you she’s in good hands. Wait downstairs for us, please?”

  Ben helped her sit up while Baba Yaga waved her hands, returning her nose to its proper place. He held up a finger and pointed to the stairs. “I’ll be right down there, Yaga.”

  Baba Yaga blew him a kiss and shooed him away.

  Pulling Winnie to her feet, she wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her to sit on the chest—the only thing left standing in the attic.

  She held Winnie’s hands in hers, and tears sparkled in her beautiful eyes. “Thank you, Winnifred. Thank you for saving my family. For saving me.”

  Winnie let her eyes fall to her shredded sneakers. “Please don’t. I didn’t do it for your gratitude.”

  “I know that, Winnifred. I know that deep in my soul. But we have to talk now.”

  “If you’re going to tell me I’m no good for Ben and Lola, I’m going to tell you to go to hell. I did not set fire to Randolph Jackson’s house and I’m not leaving Paris.”

  Baba Yaga gripped her arms and gave her a light shake. “Don’t you understand why I sent you here, Winnie? I realize you thought it was a way to torture your heart, but that’s not true. Don’t you get it yet?”

  After almost losing Lola and Ben tonight, she just wanted to crawl under the covers and bury the image forever. It had almost torn her in two and she felt raw—so raw.

  If this was one of those lessons Yaga was so big on, she was too tired to play the game. “I don’t get any of it, Yaga!” she yelped in frustration. “I don’t even know what just happened.”

  Baba Yaga grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I sent you here because Lola needed you. You needed Lola. Most of all, you and my nephew Ben needed each other. Once you had something, someone, who was more important to you than yourself, you gave it everything you had. That’s why I sent you here. Because you and Lola suffered a similar loss, and I knew no one would understand better than you.

  “I watched you often in prison. The way you helped Big Sue. The small things you did for Zelda to keep her spirits up. I misjudged you that night at the warehouse when I said I’d rather have that temperamental, overbearing Mother Nature as Ben’s girlfriend.”

  Winnie fought a giggle. Mother Nature could be very difficult. “So you’re telling me you sent me here because you want me to be with Ben? I thought you did it because you wanted to shove my mistake in my face.”

  She sighed then, and there was regret in it. “My Benn
y was sinking, Winnifred. A drowning man after he was forced to make a choice between loving you, and walking away from you because of your uncontrollable temper. He made the right choice, but it hurt him like nothing I’ve ever seen. Not even since that whole Cleopatra disaster. On top of that, his sister died, and when he’d hoped to come home to you after the funeral, thought he’d have you to comfort him, you were already in prison. He was broken.”

  Winnie’s eyes filled with tears hearing those words. That she’d been the last straw, the last thing responsible for sending him over the edge, still hurt. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for letting my rage get so out of control. I’m sorry I set your memorabilia on fire, too.”

  “I know you are, Winnifred. I know that here.” She pointed to her heart. “I admit, I’d planned a harsh punishment for you because Ben is my nephew, and I love him fiercely. However, I wasn’t going to put you in prison for nine months. But that son of a bitch Fate…” Baba Yaga shook her head and grinned. “He’s something else.”

  “Fate?” She’d met him once. Hot as the day was long. But he knew way too much for her level of comfort, so she avoided him.

  “Yes, Fate. I’ll kill him when I see him next year at the annual Salem Witch Trials revival and flea market. I can’t believe I didn’t pick up on the hints he kept throwing my way.”

  “Hints?”

  Baba waved her hands dismissively, the gleam of her neon bracelets flashing. “None of that matters now. He—Fate—knew you belonged here. He knew you were the one witch who was strong enough to save the next Baba Yaga. He must have known what was going to happen. Moira’s death, the return of my vengeful sister and her plot to steal Lola’s soul. That’s why he voted to keep you in prison for so long. So you’d learn. So your magic would store up and you’d be powerful enough to take on my sister.”

  Most of the words coming from Baba’s mouth, she was incapable of processing—except for the words about Lola. “Lola’s the next Baba Yaga?”

  “She’s the next living female in line, now that both my sisters and Moira have crossed over.”