Page 33 of Wicching Hour

“He said she’d choked him with her magic,” Carter continued, “almost killing him and then her vicious monster guardian picked him up off the ground with one hand and threatened to eat him.” Carter looked up at the half-wall of the loft. “I assumed that monster was you, Declan.”

Declan growled, deep and angry.

“Yeah, thought so,” Carter replied. “Anyway, he talked about how dangerous and demonic witches are, how they needed to be captured and burned.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “He’s human. I can’t go pound him into oblivion, but I’m worried that one of his handful of listeners will decide to act on his words.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” I began chanting quietly.

“Can you see?” Declan asked. “How many listeners does he actually have? If there are only three and they live in other countries, we have time to deal with him.”

Carter ate the last cookie and took out his phone again. He swiped through and said, “I can’t tell how many have listened to it, but he has one hundred and thirteen ratings. When I listened this morning, there were eighteen ratings.”

“That’s a big jump in a few hours,” I said. How do we fix this?

“He could be advertising somewhere,” Carter suggested, “or be in an online group of like-minded weirdos and they’re passing on the information.”

I did an internet search on the podcast and found multiple listings for the different platforms that offered the podcast and then saw a Reddit thread about it. There were only a few comments, but one of the posters had named me and my gallery.Shitshitshitshit.

“I know you have cameras all around, but you might want to hire proper security. I’m only here when the gallery’s open. I think you need someone around all the time. All thiswitch burningtalk has me worried about you and the gallery.”

“I have an idea about security,” Declan said. “Let me work on that. In the meantime, are there any other spells you can do to protect yourself?”

I shrugged. “Mom, Gran, and I warded the hell out of the place. It should be fine, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.” I had a thought. “We need to ward Bracken’s RV too. He’s in danger, being so close to me.”

I stood, realized I couldn’t go anywhere yet, and sat back down. “Once Melissa and her crew are done, I can meet with Mom and Gran…and we…” My head began to pound and my vision went dark. Oh, no. I was on stairs. I?—

Gran is sitting in her living room by the fire, drinking tea and reading a book. Outside, a giant, hairless beast skulks, circling the house, sniffing at doors, peering in windows, waiting for Gran to leave the safety of her warded home. Drool drips from his fangs, burning holes in the patio. It scratches its razor-sharp claws against the window. Gran looks up, but not seeing anything, tugs the warm shawl around her shoulders and sips her tea.

In a torch-lit basement, a woman pores over an ancient, hand-written grimoire filled with the foulest spells ever imagined. A small animal whimpers in the corner as the woman crushes tiny bones with a mortar and pestle. The stench makes me lightheaded. The fur and feathers of previous sacrifices are heaped in the corner. The chanting begins and my stomach twists.

The vision goes black and then…

Bracken is in his RV at his desk, reading over a journal and drinking a cup of tea. It’s the middle of the night, but he hears voices outside. When he looks out the window, the RV shudders, like it’s been hit by something large. He gets to his feet and is thrown back in his chair. The RV rocks violently from side to side.

He throws a spell, but the RV is already crashing onto its side. Bracken is crushed beneath his heavy wooden desk. Hand up, he pushes his magic against the desk, shoving it off his crushed middle, and then he sees the smoke. All of his books, his precious histories, are going up in flames.

The vision goes black and then…

Hester hands a child a peanut butter-chocolate chip cookie. He takes a bite as his mother pays for it and grins, looking at all the octopuses. The child takes another big bite, thinking about the Monterey Bay Aquarium where he saw a real octopus. It was so cool, even if it did hide. He saw the tentacles come out and it made him feel both scared and happy. His stomach starts to hurt.

His mom is still talking to the lady behind the counter. He knows it’s rude to interrupt. He looks at his cookie. It’s so good. It’ll help. He takes another big bite, hoping the good taste will cover the bad pain.

He drops to the ground, convulsing, bloody foam on his lips.

“No!” I shot up and realized I was being held in place. Declan was sitting on the top step, his arms around me.

“Is she okay?”

I heard Carter’s voice, but the waves and wind were making him hard to hear. I turned in Declan’s lap and looked down the steep stairs to find Carter standing outside the open door. Melissa moved into view and looked through the door, worry lining her face.

“Everything’s fine,” Declan growled. “You know she’s a Cassandra wicche. That’s why your brother is always asking for her help. She’s perfectly fine. Close the door.”

Carter did and walked Melissa back to the gallery door.

I tipped my head onto Declan’s shoulder. “I thought for sure I was going to break my neck tumbling down those stairs. It came on so fast, I couldn’t scoot myself back, away from the drop.”

He hadn’t let go yet. “When you’re falling into a vision, your eyes go glassy and vacant. As soon as you lost the thread of what you were saying, your eyes went blank and I was up and diving for you. You were going head-first down the stairs when I caught you.” He squeezed me tighter. “Don’t do that again.”

He stood and carried me back to bed, sitting on the edge with me still in his lap. “You scared a good decade off me.”

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