Damned and Cursed (Book 9): Witch Trial Read online

  CONTENTS

  Title

  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

  Epilogue

  "The War Room"

  "Belt Notes"

  About The Author

  Witch Trial

  By Glenn Bullion

  Copyright © 2018 by Glenn Bullion

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Glenn Bullion.

  Special Thanks:

  Dominque Johnson

  Fantasy Sci-Fi Mom

  Jon Rivers

  Kimberly Hennessy

  CHAPTER 1

  Vanilla extract. A slice of lemon. Tapioca pudding. Minced garlic.

  The common household kitchen items were spread across a long folding table. A pot of boiling water sat on an electric hot-plate to the side, its bubbling the only sound in the basement. Each item was treated with the utmost care and respect, separated and organized, as if they were the components to a bomb.

  From the eye of the young man staring at them, that was a real possibility.

  Kevin Mishnar let out a deep sigh, one of many over the past twenty minutes. He stood and paced. This was the part of magic that he hated the most.

  The waiting.

  It took three weeks for the four items to come to him. The lemon was first. It popped into his head while at work, as he fixed a computer for the boss's daughter. The pudding and garlic came when he was cooking dinner. Only the vanilla extract had an amusing story behind it.

  It came to him while he was with his girlfriend, Leese, in the early hours of the morning. They were together, doing what young couples did. If Leese wasn't a wonderful girlfriend, Kevin's muttering of vanilla extract while she ground her hips into his might have been a mood killer.

  But Leese knew Kevin was a witch, and about the strangeness that came with it.

  Like sometimes obsessing over half completed potions.

  He glared at the folding table. Another three weeks had passed since the last ingredient came to him. He didn't understand how magic worked, at least with new potions. They just happened. Sometimes a single potion came to him, or a flurry came at once. Sometimes they were quick and easy, others took months. Kevin kept a notepad to jot down every ingredient. He wouldn't know what the potion did until it was completed. Magic, if nothing else, was a tease.

  He turned on some music and sat on the couch. He tried to take his mind off magic. Sometimes focusing on a potion helped it along. But there were times distraction was the best thing. There was no magic formula.

  Kevin admired the basement he called home. He still lived in the house his friend Victoria gifted him. Legally, it belonged to Kristin, his sister. But he was more than happy to claim the basement as his own. A bed, couch, TV, computer, bathroom, he didn't need more than that.

  There were a few other witch's touches as well.

  Kicking his feet up on the couch, he surfed through the channels. The allure of seven o'clock television on a Friday night didn't exactly grab him, and he found himself staring at the table once again. Frustrated, he stood up and turned off the hot-plate. It was another trick he often went to. Sometimes being near boiling water, a catalyst for many potions, would get the magical juices flowing.

  But, for the moment, he was impotent.

  "Some witch you are," he muttered.

  He approached his witch's touch, the shelves that took up an entire wall of the basement. They were lined with potions and ingredients. Most came from the kitchen. Kristin would never realize they were missing since he did all the cooking. Others were more exotic. Flowers from a tomb, preserved owl eyes, bones of a sparrow, bat wings. Kevin didn't even want to think about what witches in the past used, all while hovering over a cauldron.

  His gaze drifted back and forth between his vast array of ingredients and his work table. He wondered if a guess was in order. Some of his favorite potions came from simply guessing at an ingredient or two. Maybe nothing would happen. But that nothing could turn into inspiration for another ingredient, or even another potion. Sometimes just the act of brewing a potion led to more.

  Or something crazy could happen, but he tried not to think about that.

  He went to his go-to ingredient. Sugar. He poured a pinch into his palm and went to work. Turning the hot-plate back on, he mixed the ingredients. Vanilla extract. A slice of lemon. Tapioca pudding. Minced garlic. A pinch of sugar. All in boiling water. The garlic threw a mouth-watering aroma through the basement, making him hungry. His finger hovered over the bubbling mixture. Every magical potion needed the touch of a witch. With a quick stir, he would either have something new to write in his witch's journal, or a blistered finger.

  "Let's see what we got."

  He stirred the mixture quickly. It didn't change color, nor did his finger burn.

  "Hmm, wow. I wonder—"

  A loud popping sound interrupted, followed by a cloud of smoke attacking him. He stepped back and waved frantically, trying to clear the air. The smoke refused to give in. A coughing fit seized him, and a moment later the basement was full of smoke. He could see nothing. He almost tripped over the couch trying to put distance between himself and the ruined potion.

  The smoke alarm went off.

  "Shit."

  "Kevin!" It was Kristin, shouting from upstairs. Kevin heard the basement door open. "What's going on? Is there a fire?"

  He peered through the smoke. He felt no heat, saw no flames dancing from his work table. No fire, it was just another potion gone bad.

  "No, everything is cool. It's just, uh…."

  "Damnit, Kev," she said. He heard her moving down the stairs. "You've got to stop doing this. Last month, you almost burned the house down."

  "I did not." He stumbled to the corner and felt for his reading glasses on the desk. With another sigh, he slipped them on. "It's just a little smoke. Not that big a deal. I've seen worse when you try to cook—"

  His eyes went wide as he trailed off. Wearing a simple pair of reading glasses allowed him to see through anything, and that included smoke. Kristen was three feet away from the hot-plate, waving her hand in front of her.

  "Watch out—!"

  It was too late. She wore a black dress, and slammed into the table with her leg. The failed, boiling potion spilled all over the carpet, and her bare skin. Kristin screamed as she fell to one knee. Kevin heard the sick sound of her thigh and hand sizzling.

  She called his name. He sprang into action. He jumped over the cord to the hot-plate and landed at Kristin's side. She trembled as the pain locked every muscle. He gripped her arm and urgently pulled Kristin to her feet.

  "Ow!" she hissed, sucking in a breath of air. "Shit!"

  Kevin guided her up
the stairs, keeping a hand on her back. Kristin half walked, half stumbled. The smoke filled the stairwell, making them cough. She nearly fell forward once, but Kevin caught her. He helped her out of the basement and into the hallway. The kitchen was just ahead. He set her at the dining table and opened the fridge. Her burns were already starting to blister.

  Kristin cried quietly behind him.

  "Hold on," he said.

  He had fought vampires, werewolves, demons. Retrieving a bottle of water should have been easy. Hearing his sister fight pain made his hand shake.

  "I am holding on," she said. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Just take your time."

  He created the first potion he ever discovered, long before he knew he was a witch. All he needed was water and the touch of a finger. The bottle of water turned bright blue before losing its color.

  Kristin took a deep drink.

  Kevin watched her and waited for the magic to happen. The blisters on her thigh slowly vanished. She flexed her hand, but it was still a deep shade of red.

  "Drink a little more."

  "I am. Just wait."

  One more swallow. Kristin rubbed her leg with her injured hand. Her color returned to normal. She turned her palm over and wiggled her fingers.

  She stared at her brother. They were adopted, not biologically related, but that didn't matter. They loved and looked out for each other. If it wasn't for Kristin, Kevin wouldn't be the person he was. She worked hard to take care of them after their parents died.

  But like any brother and sister, they fought. He knew just from a look when she was angry with him.

  As she sat in silence, Kristin gave him that look.

  To add more fuel to her fire, the smoke alarms throughout the rest of the house went off as well. Kevin winced as Kristin covered her ears. Smoke made its way to the kitchen. He ran to the cabinets and started gathering ingredients. Flour, vinegar, sugar, an empty Cool-Whip bowl to contain the smoke. A few drops of water from the sink.

  He quickly mixed the potion in the bowl and gave it a stir. Standing in the thick of the smoke, near the basement door, he held the bowl over his head. The smoke pulled in on itself, growing smaller and smaller. It flowed across the couch, the stairs, the carpet, making its way toward Kevin and the magical container. It flowed up his body, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from gagging. When the house was finally clear, he slapped the lid shut.

  Everything was eerily quiet. The alarms went dead. The only sound was from Kevin's TV, still on in the basement. Kristin kept giving that look.

  As if the tension wasn't thick enough, Kristin jumped when Oscar leaped across the table. She squealed and balled up her fists in shock. Kevin's cat was always either at his side, or waiting in the shadows to frighten someone. Being an all-black feline gave Oscar an advantage.

  "Oscar! Go away!" Kristin shouted.

  Kevin regarded her for the first time since she came home from work. Confusion set in as he looked her up and down. The black dress she wore stopped just above the knee and showed off her slender shoulders. Heels and makeup, which was ruined due to tears. A light bulb went off in his head, not unlike when he discovered new magic.

  "Ah," he said. "You're going on that date with Todd."

  "No. I was going on that date with Todd."

  "What? Why are you canceling?"

  "I don't know. Maybe because I just got burned to a crisp."

  Kevin felt awful. He didn't want to be the cause of her not going out on a Friday night. Kristin's social life was improving, but she needed to get out more often.

  "But you're fine now."

  Her voice softened a touch as she stood and looked herself over once again, feeling her leg and hand.

  "Yeah, thanks." Her hard edge returned. "Look at me. My dress is ruined. And my makeup, I don't even want to know—"

  He laughed, drawing a glare.

  "You're right. You don't want to know."

  He took the bottle from her and set it on the table.

  "Just change," he said. "Fix your makeup and go out."

  Finally, she managed a smile.

  "I don't know. I'm afraid you'll blow the house up."

  "I won't."

  "Let me guess. Your latest potion isn't quite done."

  "I'll figure it out."

  "Well, stop." She paused as she passed the basement doorway. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed. "Is that garlic?"

  He ushered her away, toward the stairs by the front door.

  "Don't worry about it. Get ready for your date."

  "I already did. Once."

  "Get ready again. You've got other dresses. I'll clean up the basement. Don't worry."

  "Okay, okay. I'm going."

  Kristin was halfway upstairs when she stopped to turn around. She gave him a long look.

  "Kev," she said. "You don't have to be a witch all the time. It's okay to just be a stupid, regular guy."

  He wasn't sure of her point, or what she was trying to say. He was a regular guy. He was an assistant IT specialist. He didn't own a ghost business. Or manage vampire affairs out of a mansion. Or whatever it was Jack Kursed did.

  He didn't know what to say, so just went with humor.

  "Well, I've got the stupid part down. Go get ready."

  "I'll do that," she said, turning on the stairs. Her voice went quiet as she disappeared to the second floor. "And don't burn the house down!"

  *****

  Kevin eyed the carpet with disdain. He'd already said his goodbyes with Kristin, wished her luck, and heard the front door open and close above him. The carpet just behind the couch was sopping wet, and the scent of garlic, while wonderful, wasn't a good smell for a basement. He put away all his ingredients. Witchcraft was over for the night.

  He still carried the container of magically trapped smoke. He'd have to dispose of it later. Setting it on a shelf, a smile crossed his face as he thought of potential uses. It would be a fun prank to play in the bathroom at work.

  He grabbed an enchanted sponge. Wiping it a single time across the carpet, it absorbed all the moisture, leaving the fabric dry and fresh. He used magic of a different sort for the scent of garlic. A liberal spraying of Febreze.

  Satisfied with the cleanup, he turned his attention to the rumbling in his stomach. He wasn't sure what he enjoyed more. Cooking up potions, or cooking up food.

  It didn't take long to get the kitchen rolling. Kevin was deep in his version of a Friday night out. He liked going out, liked spending time with his friends and family. But he equally enjoyed a night on the couch, with his spell-book in his lap and a black cat on the cushion next to him.

  He made plenty of food, in case Kristin's date went badly. Steak smothered in mushrooms, steamed green beans, and baked potatoes. He sampled a mushroom while enjoying the scent of the steak.

  "One day, Jack," he said. "You'll cook like me."

  He was shooing Oscar off the counter when his phone lit up. After giving up his phone, and using magical stones to communicate, Kevin finally relented and joined the land of telecommunications once again. Kevin and Leese both endured too many embarrassing incidents, with Leese even getting in trouble at work, because of their magical communication. Voices booming mysteriously, or Leese hunched over a rock in a corner. Kevin communicated with text, like every other person over eight years old. They saved magic stones for emergencies.

  Which, thankfully, there had been none.

  He unlocked the phone to see it was a text message from Leese. He smiled as he read the single sentence, what had turned into a private joke between them.

  Can I come over and play?

  There was no accompanying topless photo. Although he had plenty, Kevin hung his head in disappointment. He could always use more.

  He went downstairs to his desk, where he stored countless pictures of places important to him. Victoria's kitchen, an alley close to work, Alex's house, and Leese's bedroom.

  Some magic was simple, like trapping smoke or cleaning a carpe
t. Then there was magic that was life-changing. Like granting a human immortality. Or using a picture to travel across the world.

  The process had almost become rote. Kevin grabbed a photo of Leese's bedroom in her apartment, then headed to his shelves. He plucked an already-prepared glass vial from a neatly labeled rack. He drew two circles, or rather portals, using the potion. One on the picture, and another on his basement wall.

  Placing the photo inside the drawn portal completed the ritual.

  The portal came into being, taking the picture with it. He always kept multiple copies of every picture, for that reason. On one side was Walton, Maryland, Kevin's hometown-tiny-corner-of-paradise. On the other side was Baltimore, home to most of Kevin's friends.

  Including his beautiful girlfriend.

  Even after a hard day at the veterinarian's office, Leese was radiant. Kevin realized he was biased, but she never had trouble turning heads. She still wore her scrubs. Her blond hair was short, just barely long enough to make a ponytail. Her skin was flawless. He always wondered what magic she possessed to have a tan throughout the year.

  Her smile was genuine, but weary. Fresh clothes and a purse were slung over her shoulder. A pair of jeans and a blouse. He couldn't help but notice the lacy underwear.

  "Hi, sexy."

  "Hey, yourself."

  He stepped aside for her to cross the portal. He took her hand so she wouldn't trip. Leese was gorgeous, smart, sweet, and kind. She was equally as clumsy.

  Her nose wrinkled as Kevin closed the magical doorway behind her.

  "What is that?"

  He laughed.

  "Garlic and Febreze." The thought of garlic made him think of dinner, still on the stove. "Shit."

  He ran up the stairs. Leese followed, smiling and laughing. He turned the stove off and quickly shuffled food around. Despite the hurried panic, nothing burned.

  Leese dropped her clothes on the couch and joined Kevin in the kitchen, sitting at the table.

  "Is Kristin out?"

  "Yeah. On a date." He looked her up and down. "Don't you have that dinner with Cindy's parents tonight?"