Convicted Witch: Jagged Grove Book 1 (5 page)

If he didn’t hold my life in his hands, figuratively speaking, I wouldn’t even take him seriously.

I also think it’s weird that people who need help keep popping up. Almost like it’s a sign...

Nope.

He’s staring at me. “Listen - do you want to go home or not?”

“Yes, but a whole year? That’ll take forever.”

He gives me a look. “No, it’ll take a year. And then this whole thing will be over.”

“If I keep Bilda from doing any damage? And behave myself? And teach this Maggie person how to use her powers? And open a practice in Jagged Grove for a year?”

“Exactly. And report to me once a week.”

“Report to you?” Had he mentioned that already?

“Yes. A detailed log of who you helped, what you did, and any of the goings-on in Jagged Grove that I may need to know about.”

“Did you mention that part? I don’t want to be a spy.”

He stares at me harder. “Yes. I mentioned it. That’s the deal. Are you in?”

I don’t know if this is a good idea - I’m not good with people - but it’s the only way I’ll ever get home again.

“What’s it like? This town, I mean.”

He relaxes back into the chair and smiles with genuine affection. “It’s great. A cozy little place, surrounded by beaches on one side and forest on the other. People act like neighbors there instead of strangers. It’s a lot more slow-paced than Raleigh. You’ll love it.”

“So...small-town America, with witches?”

He nods. “And shifters and warlocks. And a few fae.”

“Any vampires?” I joke.

“One. But we supply his needs. You won’t have to worry about him jumping you for your blood or anything like that.”

“Sounds like you’ve got everything covered.”

Angelo sighs, and his expression goes softer. I’m finding that the look just makes him sexier, although he doesn’t seem to realize that, thankfully. “Listen, Trinket. I know this seems harsh and unfair to you, and in a lot of ways it is, but we try our best to make Jagged Grove as great as possible for the...guests. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to tell me. We’ll figure it out.”

“We?” I get so mad at him that sometimes I forget that he’s just an agent and that this whole thing isn’t completely his fault - he’s just following orders. “We who, exactly? I mean, I want to know who I need to vote out of office next year, right?”

He shakes his head at me. “This goes even higher than that. This is a national security issue.”

“My mother is a threat to our national security?” I know what he meant, but I still want to needle him. “That is so, so sad.”

He rubs his eye with the heel of his hand. He’s cute when he does that, too.

“One year, huh?” I think about this. He says that Jagged Grove is cozy, but I know what that really means. It means little, and I’m not a fan of small towns. I moved out of Harte and into my own apartment because somebody was always in my business, and I could never get the privacy I needed. I liked the anonymity that Raleigh provided. Could I survive in a small town again?

But if it’s the only way to get home, I don’t have a choice. I’m still worried about accidentally killing somebody, but Angelo was right when he said that saving two lives today was awesome. Maybe I can do some good here, as long as I’m very careful.

And, a sneaky little voice in the back of my head pipes up, if I can teach this Maggie person enough, then she can do the work. That way I won’t have to practice my healing magic much at all.

“Deal.”

We shake on it, and I avoid looking at Angelo’s beautific smile.

An hour later, when I go back to our cabin, I’m surprised that Bilda is wide awake.

“What? Did you think I was an old fuddy-duddy? I’ve learned a few things from your Aunt Louise, you know.”

That’s what we need - for her to start dating twenty-year-olds. “You look very...chipper, Mom. What’s up?”

I’m excited to tell her about the deal I made with Angelo, but a bad feeling in my gut wants her to talk first.

“I have decided that this is going to be a good for us. We’ll make new friends, have a nice new home. It’s a fresh start, and I’m going to take advantage of it.”

“Won’t you miss Miranda and Aunt Louise?”

“Of course.” She pats my hand. “But I have to go, so why not make the best of it?”

“Well...”

“And you know what the greatest thing is?”

“What?” I can’t help but smile at her sudden burst of enthusiasm. My news can wait.

“I get to be close to you again!” She stands up and comes to give me a hard hug.

It suddenly feels like I’m being choked to death, so I hug back and then pull away from her gently. “Angelo told me a little about Jagged Cove tonight.”

“He did?” Her eyes light up. “Is it going to be amazing?”

“I think so.” For you. “Small-town atmosphere, fun stuff to do. Lots of different kinds of supernaturals.”

“What about Fae? You know I don’t like the wee-folk. They bite.”

“They don’t bite.”

She nods vigorously. “They do. One got your Uncle Davis on the knee and he almost lost his leg.”

“Ouch.” I recoil at the thought and rub my own knee.

“It turned out all right, though. Your Aunt Louise turned him into a squirrel.”

I cock my head and stare at her, confused. “What, what? Don’t squirrels bite too?”

“A toothless squirrel,” she giggled. “Had to suck on acorns for two years before Louise got all soft and changed him back.”

I groan, and wonder again if my mother is losing her marbles.

“Did he retaliate?”

He tried, but then she bought that chain mail outfit.”

I’d seen the outfit before, hanging in the guest room closet at Aunt Louise’s house, but I’d always been afraid to ask about it. I tried to imagine her fighting off a fairy while wearing it and failed. “You mean they really do hate metal? I thought that was just a myth.”

“Iron, and it’s not a myth. He tried to bite her the same day she changed him back and broke into hives.” Her laughter made me smile, even if the story was baffling to me.

I patted her knee. “Well, I’m sure these fae don’t bite.”

“How can you be sure about that?”

My shoulders slumped. “OK. You got me - I can’t. I’ll ask Angelo about it tomorrow, though.”

Angelo’s name made her eyes light up again. “He likes you, you know. And he’s so handsome.”

“He’s the one who’s putting us in jail, Mom. Let’s just say he’s not my best friend right now.” I lean back on the bed and get comfy against the fluffy pillows while I talk.

“It’s not jail. It’s a fresh start, remember?”

I sigh. “If you say so. I already miss home.”

Her smile drops away. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Oh, Mom.  Its fine, I’m just grumpy.”

“Do you miss Clay?” The question is innocent, but there’s an odd glint in her eyes.

“Yeah I do.” Actually, I’m a little ashamed when I realize that I haven’t thought much about him at all since this whole thing started, except for our fight the night before. Must be shock. “And Tawny. And my apartment. And school. But like I said, it’s fine. We’ll get through this. Right?”

My smile is too big, too forced, and I can see that she sees it. She doesn’t say anything, though. Just smiles back.

I know that Bilda is right. It would be a lot easier and less ulcer-inducing if I could just settle down and accept this turn of events. Try to see the bright side and make the most of it and all those other inspirational things that people say. There is a chance - a tiny, tiny chance - that I’ll actually like it there, but I don’t really believe that.

The part I won’t admit to anyone, barely even myself, is that I’m scared.

Later, when we’re both drifting off to sleep in the dark, she says, “He really does like you. I think you should give him a chance.”

I know who she’s talking about. I don’t answer, but I fall asleep thinking about the moment when he kissed me.

Too bad he’s still the enemy.

I
wake up to glimpses of the prettiest deep blue sky that I’ve ever seen. Through the triple round windows, sun shines in where Bilda’s face should be, but she’s stuffed her head under the pillow to avoid it.

I untangle the covers and push myself up out of bed, somehow knowing that we’re here - through the portal and in Jagged Grove. I don’t know how I know, except that something just feels different.

It takes me almost an hour to stop dragging my feet, shower and dress, then make my way up to the deck. Angelo is already there, talking with some of the crew members, and beyond him I see the edges of what looks like shore.

“Is that it?” I ask, coming to stand by his side and pointing.

“It is.” He turns to look with me. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

I can barely see it, even hanging onto the rail and standing on my tiptoes. “I’ll get back to you.”

He smirks. “You’ll love it.”

I don’t answer, because I’m still trying to make out details. This is going to be my home for the next year, and I’m trying to keep Bilda’s rosy outlook in mind, but that other thing - the scared part - is still niggling at me, too.

Is this where I’m going to accidentally kill someone next?

“Is the weather always this good?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. The folks who designed this place tried to match the weather patterns after Earth’s, but they didn’t get it exactly right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he says, then pauses long enough to look embarrassed. “The rain is kind of purple, for one thing.”

I turn completely around to stare at him. “Purple.”

“Yeah. They couldn’t get the color exactly right. Jagged Grove is an ongoing project.”

“Great. I bet it’s pretty.” Good vibes, Trinket. Good vibes. “What else?”

“Um, the ecosystems all work right, and there is a formal governing body, like an incorporated city. It shouldn’t be too strange. You’ll fit in just fine.”

“What about our houses? We do have houses, right?”

“Yes. Well - one.”

I don’t care how many people I have to kill to create a vacancy, I refuse to live with my mother. “Not happening, Angelo. I want my own house.”

He nods. “Actually, I figured you would, and I’m working on it.”

I grip his arm just above the elbow and pull him down to me. “Work hard, Angelo.”

“Look,” he says, pointing. “Mt. Savage.”

“Seriously?” I peer in the direction he pointed and make out a black mist-shrouded form in the far distance. It is somewhat majestic.

“Our first guests were wolf-shifters. They got to name everything, and they can be a bit dramatic.”

“I see.”

His voice drops a little. “You know, a lot of our guests like it here.”

“Good for them. I’m not a guest. I’m a prisoner.”

“You could try. It’s only for a year.”

He says it so softly that I almost don’t hear him.

Didn’t I just promise myself that I was going to try? My eyes drop to the water - not completely purple, but more pastel than regular ocean water. He’s right, and I know it, but I don’t want to talk about it. “Just give me time to get used to all of this,” I say. Then something swims by the front of the ship.

I blink, but it’s gone. “Was that a mermaid? I thought they were a myth. Or at least extinct.”

“They live here, but mostly keep to themselves.”

I’ve never met a mermaid before. “Bilda’s going to love this place.”

“I think so. She’s really a sweetheart. I like her.”

“That’s because she doesn’t call you for bail.”

He sighs. “Are you ever happy?”

“What does that mean?” I squirm under his gaze because I know exactly what it means. “Are you calling me a bitch?”

His gaze goes wide at the word and then slides away to the water. “Of course not...exactly. I just want to make this as pleasant as possible for you, but you don’t seem...” His voice trails away.

“I don’t seem what?” I’m gripping the cold metal railing for all I’m worth.

“Easily pleased.”

He’s right. Oh, hell, I am a bitch. But what does he expect? My whole life is in shambles.

I don’t suppose that means I need to take it out on him, though, even though it isn’t really his fault - he’s just doing his job.

More importantly, why do I even care what he thinks?

I chew on my lower lip, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit ashamed of myself. Do I apologize? Or cry? I feel like crying for some reason, but can’t see how that will help my image. Besides...isn’t that just another way of being bitchy?

This is stupid. I should just be honest.

I turn to him. “You’re right. This hasn’t been easy, and I’m taking it out on you.”

The worry clears from his eyes a little. Just a little. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. It might take some time to stop. I’m still pissed.”

He laughs and rubs his chest. “Just don’t hit me anymore, OK?”

I nod. “I’ll try.”

When we get close enough to see the shoreline clearly, I go back downstairs and roust Bilda from bed. She grunts and groans, but she eventually throws on one of the white robes that came with the room and follows.

Her eyes light up when she steps out into the sunshine and gets a look.

“See? I told you it was gorgeous,” I say as brightly as I can, hugging her with one arm while she takes it all in. Being cheerful is kind of exhausting.

We watch as the boat is maneuvered in alongside the dock and crewmen tie it up, yelling back and forth to one another and laughing as they do. This part of the island is flat, and we can see all the way from the dock, up the street and into town.

It looks a lot like Harte, North Carolina. No skyscrapers and not much traffic, but there are stoplights, I can see, so that’s something.

Bilda squeals and claps her hands. “This is so exciting.”

“What’s the population of Jagged Grove, anyway?” I ask Angelo.

“Two thousand, give or take. I warned you that it was a small town.”

I plaster on a smile. “No, of course. That’s fine. I was just wondering.”

The men are loading our luggage onto a pickup truck when the captain - I guess he’s the captain, he has a special hat - motions for us to disembark. Bilda gets a bit jittery on the skinny ramp thing, but then we are on solid ground and she’s excited again. I see her spin in a slow circle, eyes wide.