The Hunter and the Witch Read online

  Aunt Mae was nothing like her brother, and for that Beth was beyond grateful. Mae Hayes had always been the black sheep of their lower middle class family. An odd bird who never quite fit in with their traditional southern ways. Somewhat of an outcast herself, Beth had always gotten along with Mae like a house on fire. And to her relief and more than a little surprise, her aunt was considerably open-minded when it came to her explanation of what had happened that night and what had occurred since.

  She found the no-questions-asked kind of love she never had back at home during the several years she lived with her aunt and worked in her quirky resale shop. Aunt Mae even encouraged her to turn her love of jewelry making into a profitable side business. A hobby her parents had told her on more than one occasion was a waste of time. As it turned out, there was quite a demand in Uptown New Orleans for Beth’s funky, upcycled designs sold in Mae’s Closet. Utilizing unwanted or broken costume jewelry sold or donated to the store, she made fun new pieces. A clip-on earring without a match might become a statement ring, or a brooch missing its pin may be turned into a trendy necklace. Locals and tourists alike were fans of her work, and she never would have attempted it if it weren’t for her aunt.

  Mae also did the best she could to help her learn to control and focus her magic. Of course it didn’t come with an instruction manual, but her aunt was a great cheerleader. Sometimes just having a loved one at your back to tell you not to give up made all the difference. But despite the fact she had to make it up as she went, she had gotten much better than when she’d first discovered her talents. She found she could do amazing things with just a mental command or flick of her wrist. It was a work in progress, but they were both proud of the strides she’d made.

  But lately, even with her aunt’s support, she was having a hard time managing. Her magic was getting stronger. Like it was simmering inside her and close to boiling over. And going back to the place where it had all started wasn’t helping her nerves. She’d avoided not only the lonely road leading to Nikki’s place, but had seen very little of her friends since the accident. It was a self-imposed exile; her parents had succeeded in making her believe her choices had brought upon the chaos. Aunt Mae told her for years it wasn’t her fault, and her words had only recently started to sink in. When Nikki came in a week ago with her yearly attempt to invite Beth back to her Fat Tuesday party, she’d finally relented.

  She walked from the back of the shop, dress in hand. While all these factors added to the stress of going to Nikki’s party, the biggest source of her anxiety was him. The authorities had never located him and of course she hadn’t seen him since that night. Not in person anyway. No, the man standing in the middle of the highway remained in her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to put him from her mind. There was something about the defeat written on his face when he’d walked up to her, like he didn’t want to be doing what he was doing.

  Ridiculous, she murmured. He’d tried to kill her. She just didn’t know why he decided not to follow through with it. Or why he had attempted it in the first place.

  Heading to the front counter, she rubbed her temple. Her power was increasing; she could feel it in every fiber of her being. What she needed was to learn how to direct it. She needed to know how to tell it what to do. Because right now, it did just about whatever it damn well pleased.

  “Sugar, are you all right?” Aunt Mae asked, startling her.

  When Beth flinched, hat boxes piled on a high shelf tumbled from their perch near the ceiling.

  “Oh! Aunt Mae, I’m sorry!” She draped the dress over a chair and began to clean up the mess.

  “Hush, now,” she soothed. “You know you can’t help it.”

  Beth pushed the hair from her eyes and did her best not to cry. “It’s getting worse. And the dreams are happening every night now.”

  Sitting next to her on the floor, Mae tucked her niece’s short hair behind her ears. “The dreams of him?”

  She nodded. “The same one every time. I’m sitting on one end of an old stone bridge, and he’s walking away from me to the other side. I still don’t know what to make of it. But in the dream, I want to follow him. I want to know what’s on the other side of the bridge.”

  Mae gave her a soft smile. “Darlin’, I know a little somethin’ about wanting to know what else is out there, what’s beyond the life you know. Me and your daddy grew up in the same house, believe in the same God, and still go to the same church. But we couldn’t be more different. He felt right as rain keeping everything as he’d always known it, never trying anything new or seeing things a different way. But I was never like that. I wanted new experiences, to meet new people and see what they had to say about things. So I left that tiny town in the middle of nowhere and I’m all the better for it.” She patted Beth’s hand. “And you did the same thing. That takes some kinda strength, darlin’. Which is why I know you’ll get this gift of yours under control.”

  Beth gave a humorless laugh. “Is it really such a gift? I’ve been wondering if I should’ve listened to Mom and Dad. Maybe I should just forget everything that happened and try to hide what I can do.”

  “You will do no such thing!” Her aunt gave her a gentle push on the shoulder. “You remember that professor I dated years ago? He told me once about this quote by Benjamin Franklin. ‘Hide not your talents, they for use were made. What's a sundial in the shade?’ And it stuck with me.”

  Beth smiled and let out a gusty breath.

  “That’s better. You know your smile just lights your face right up.” Aunt Mae helped her with the rest of the boxes. “Huh.” She paused and looked up as if in deep thought. “Now that I think about it, it may have been the tennis instructor I went out with for a time who told me that quote. Doesn’t matter though. You get my gist. Right, sugar?”

  “Yes, Aunt Mae. I get it,” Beth said with a laugh.

  Chapter Two

  Lucius stepped from the path of the vase before it crashed into the door to Helena’s suite in the Ritz-Carlton on Canal Street.

  “Four years, Asper! It’s been four years since I saw the vision of her in my scrying bowl! And what have you to show for it? Nothing!”

  Avoiding the broken crystal and scattered lilies, he clasped his hands at his back and strode into the living area. “Your vision showed a glimpse of a blonde girl wearing beads at a Mardi Gras party. That’s not very much to go on, Helena.”

  She scoffed. “Well it narrowed her down to one city, did it not?”

  “I scoured New Orleans for months after the Winter Solstice in 2010. I conducted daily searches all throughout January and February 2011. If she was in this city during the celebrations, I would have found her. She could have been at a Mardi Gras party in any city.”

  Helena slumped onto the suite’s plush couch. “I’ve grown tired of that excuse, Asper. It’s had you gallivanting all over the States wasting our time for years. She’s here. She’s always been here—I can feel it.” She covered her eyes with the back of her arm, her hair cascading over the pillow in dark waves. “I should have accompanied you the first time you went. Maybe then we could’ve moved on from this nonsense instead of dragging it out for as long as you have.”

  He walked to the window and observed the activity below. A cheerful brass band and thumping drums led a parade of costumed performers down the street. Mardi Gras participants in the traditional colors of green, purple, and yellow threw trinkets to the excited crowd from atop garish floats. He wondered if she was down there right now… Bethany. His Bethany. At least that’s how he’d come to think of her these past years.

  After countless centuries acting as Helena’s attack dog, Lucius thought he’d forgotten how to feel. Thought he’d lost the capacity to empathize. When your hand is forced again and again to murder the innocent, putting aside the part of yourself that cares is a necessary defense mechanism. But Bethany…she brought him back from the void. She had such a fight in her, such spirit. In that moment in the empty highway, she ha
d awakened something in him he was sure had died a long time ago. He now had a purpose.

  To do whatever he could to make sure Helena never found her.

  The dark witch didn’t make it easy; if she had he would’ve escaped her grip back when Rome was still in power. He’d tried on numerous occasions to take his own life, but her magic protected him from every attempt. No matter the distance between them, her power would slow down an intentional fall, or even divert a galloping horse if he jumped in its path.

  As long as they were bound, Lucius was immortal. Helena did not age—a gift bestowed to her in antiquity by a water nymph who had taken pity upon the witch. Helena had been assaulted by a man who came upon her when she was washing clothes in a river. The naiad, known as Larunde, found her violated and beaten nearly to death. The nymph had also experienced the pain and humiliation of rape, and brought her back from certain death. With the nymph’s act of kindness, she was granted everlasting life. She maintained the appearance of a woman in her early forties, and Lucius had appeared to be twenty-eight since the day she took him from his cell.

  And if he simply declined to do as she commanded? She held over his head the threat not only of his own torment, but she promised to torture the witches they hunted as well. Helena had in her employ men who would take great enjoyment in “using” her victims before they died. At least, at one time they were men. They had become so corrupted by the use of dark magic they were barely human. She’d forced Lucius to watch their depravity when he refused to comply with her demands at some point during the Dark Ages. It made him ill to think about it even now. The fact she allowed it, having been through the very same horror was a testament to her heartlessness.

  And because her spell protected against it, he couldn’t harm her or hire another to do so. The woman had thought of everything.

  All he could do was provide the witches some dignity in death. To ensure it was quick, and make sure they didn’t experience the terror and pain Helena would have waiting for them.

  But his decision not to bring Bethany to her complicated matters. He had managed to distract Helena for a time by taking on some lucrative contracts in magic’s dark underworld. Organized crime was as rampant with witches and mages as it was with regular people, and Lucius had a reputation as both a great tracker and an efficient killer. While he took no pleasure in it, at least these people were anything but innocent. They were deeply embroiled in everything from human trafficking to human sacrifice. His master was happy with the money coming in, and for a while, she forgot about the witch that got away. He knew he couldn’t stall forever, and now she insisted they both go to New Orleans and he look for her again.

  “She’s getting stronger,” Helena said through gritted teeth. “You will find her, Asper. You’ll find her and bring her to me so I can perform the ritual. If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will. Trust me when I say they won’t be nearly as kind as you choose to be.” She took a steadying breath and raised her hand. At her gesture, the front door to her suite swung open with a bang. She nodded in its direction. “Now get out. I don’t want to see you again until you have the girl.”

  Lucius exited the room and the door slammed shut behind him. He needed to find Bethany. Tonight. And he had an idea of just where she’d be.

  Gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, Beth made her way through the winding roads of New Orleans’ Lakeshore suburb. The upscale neighborhood sat nestled along the southern edge of Lake Pontchartrain where the per capita income was more than double the Louisiana average. It was nothing like the tired, rural town next to Bayou Barataria where Beth grew up.

  She and Nikki had met as Brownies at an area Girl Scout meeting, and when you’re that young, you don’t worry so much about have and have not. They remained close friends all through junior and senior high school despite being in different districts and still kept in touch after graduation. It had been tough being away from Nikki, but a part of her felt she deserved the punishment. Fortunately Aunt Mae was able to talk some sense into her.

  Beth held her breath as she drove past the stretch of road where she’d crashed her beat-up Ford Taurus and let out a sigh of relief when it was in her rear-view. She had no intention of reliving the experience—seeing him nightly in her dreams was more than enough. She also had no intention of sharing with Aunt Mae the extent of him she actually saw in the dreams. The bridge dream was one thing, but there were other, more explicit visions that came to her when she was awake.

  She often saw him in his bed with white sheets twisted around his nude body in stark contrast to his bronzed skin. His deep brown hair just barely touched his broad shoulders, and when he turned onto his stomach, she saw thick crisscrossing scars all over his back. She sensed him as he lay there awake for hours, his pale blue eyes staring at nothing in particular. Beth couldn’t read any specific thoughts, but somehow she knew when he came to her in these visions, it was because he was thinking about her. Thoughts of her kept him up at night, and she felt from him the combined sensations of guilt, longing, and profound sorrow.

  For the life of her, she didn’t know what any of it actually meant, other than the distinct impression his actions that night weren’t what he’d truly wanted. What she did know, however, was thoughts of him had been keeping her up nights as well.

  She pulled into the residential cul-de-sac and found a space along the street. Cars were parked bumper to bumper on both sides, and she heard music and laughter from Nikki’s parents’ house as soon as she opened the car door. She grabbed her borrowed clutch from the passenger seat and smoothed out her skirt before heading inside.

  Nikki’s parents lived in what was easily considered a mansion, but the two story Greek Revival facade they had added to the front made their late 90’s house look like an elegant Antebellum plantation home. She trailed her fingers over one of the columns as she traversed the porch to the open front door. When she was barely two steps into the foyer, Nikki’s excited squeal rang over the noise inside.

  “Bethie! I’m so happy you made it!” Nikki weaved through the crowd of costumed partygoers to reach her.

  “Hi, Nikki!” Beth shouted over the din and rushed to hug her friend. They stepped back after their embrace to take in each other’s outfits. Nikki was classic Lady Gaga in a bobbed wig, geisha-style lipstick, and a futuristic metallic peplum dress.

  “Nikki, you look fantastic! And tall,” she added, looking down at her sky-high platform heels. “Are you freaking crazy? Those are out of control!”

  “I know!” Nikki wobbled and grabbed Beth’s shoulder for support. “I can hardly stand in them, but they’re fab, right? A couple more sips of my hurricane and I’ll change into some flats. But I’m working them for now aren’t I?”

  Beth laughed. “Hell yes, you are!”

  “But look at you…Miss Marilyn Monroe, you are looking divine tonight.”

  Beth fluffed her curled blonde hair and leaned forward with her best Marilyn impression, tilting her head back with a sultry laugh.

  “Yes!” Nikki exclaimed, cracking up. “Amazing.” She took Beth’s hands and gave them a squeeze. “You look good—like really good. I’m so glad you made it, Bethie. I really missed you.”

  “I missed you too. Look, I’m sorry I dropped off the face of the earth. I just needed some time to get my head straight.”

  Nikki nodded. “I know, I know. Listen, just forget it. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

  Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she smiled. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “All right, all right. Enough of that.” Nikki waved her hands in dismissal. “How about a drink?”

  “Oh. Just a water I think.”

  “Fair enough.” She led her to the makeshift bar to grab a bottle of Evian. “Here ya go, sweetie.”

  “Thank ya, darlin’.”

  Beth steadied Nikki as she nearly lost her balance again.

  “Whoops!” Her friend giggled and flailed her arms.
“I think it may be time to de-Gaga my feet.”

  Laughing, Beth agreed. “I think you might be right.”

  “Will you be okay on your own for a while?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go on.” Shooing her off, Beth put on Marilyn’s breathy purr. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be busy mingling with all these lovely people. We’ll have a grand old time.”

  “Good, I want you to have a good time. Don’t think too hard on anything and just have fun, all right?”

  “You got it, sister.”

  Nikki gave a firm nod. “Well all right then. I’ll see you a bit later.” With intense concentration to the task at hand, she pivoted and stepped away slowly in the massive heels.

  Lucius stalked around the far perimeter of the home near the lake. The sprawling residence was filled to the brim with party guests in costumes, just as it had been the night he scouted it four years ago. Bethany was in there, of that he was certain. He felt the familiar pull to be near her that often struck on those nights when sleep eluded him. When thoughts of her flooded his mind like a torrent and made him wish he had a different life. Not the hundreds upon hundreds of lives he had lived at the mercy of a cruel master, but just one life, this time lived for himself.

  But he knew better than to dream about the impossible. He had committed too many sins in his many lifetimes to be looked upon with any favor by the gods.

  What he could do, here and now, was warn Bethany. Tell her to get as far away from Helena’s reach as possible. Explain she had to go to a place where he’d never be able to track her down. Even that couldn’t guarantee her safety, but it was the only option.

  Now he just had to find a way to make her listen.

  A lakeside breeze gusted and he glared in the direction of his quarry. When the air settled, he moved toward the vast backyard, the locks of his windblown hair partially obscuring his face and his mouth set in a firm line. He had with him a dose of Helena’s nightshade potion, a potent mix of herbs and enchantments used to subdue the witches without force. Lucius had demanded she provide him with a painless method to bring in her victims. Ingesting a few teaspoons would render the witches unconscious for several hours, enough so they didn’t experience their magical draining and inevitable demise. A couple of drops would knock Bethany out long enough for him to take her somewhere quiet and relay his warning.