Witchfire Read online

  Witchfire

  Book 1

  by Cyrese Covelli

  ISBN: 0-7443-1453-X

  Look for the rest of the Witchlock Series:

  Book 2: Shadowshifter

  Book 3: Wolfsmage

  Copyright 2008 by Cyrese Covelli

  All Rights Reserved

  Published by SynergEbooks

  http://www.synergebooks.com

  PART ONE

  VAMPED

  Chapter One

  Twisted

  The first time my sister shape-shifted, neither of us knew what was happening. I took one look at Gemma, my big sister, my friend, my beloved tormenter- and ran for it. I know – real heroic, right? Well, give me some credit; I did turn around after a mile or two.

  As scared as I was, it was nothing compared to how horrified Gemma felt. When I forced myself to go back to her, she was collapsed on the floor of her bedroom. Stuck halfway between panther and girl, her usually green eyes were tinged orange. Her mouth and nose fused together in a muzzle. Two velvety ears poked out from between her curtain of dark brown hair and her hands curved like claws at the end. I steeled my nerves, crept forward, and patted her shoulder.

  "It's…its okay, Gemma,” I said. A low growl rumbled from her throat and she scratched at the wood-bare floor.

  "How is this going to be okay?”

  "I don't… I mean. This is kind of cool, right? You have this power. You're like a super-hero or something,” I said. Gemma snorted and rolled her eyes.

  "Right. A super-hero. What am I, Cat-girl? Fluffy the rodent slayer?” Just minutes later, she had shifted back to usual. This was pure luck because our grandma was coming over for dinner and I didn’t think the sight of her granddaughter in panther fur would have been good for her.

  * * * *

  When my sister's secret was uncovered, we were dancing at a VIP club in a pre-celebration party for my fifteenth birthday. I wasn't sure if driving to Chicago was such a great idea with her powers still not fully understood, but Gemma insisted on going.

  "I'll have to get used to having this freak-power sometime. Besides," she'd argued. "I only start to shift when I get really upset.” Judging from the fact that she had first shifted after receiving a phone call from our father, who we had not seen in almost fifteen years, this seemed a valid point.

  Despite both of our worries, we had gone out to the club. We might have been okay if we’d gone to The Kitchen, Asylum, or any one of the teen dance clubs, but I wanted to go to The Crimson. My best friend Denise's boyfriend, Dax, told her it was the coolest place. It was a theme bar with scary décor and a row of coffins making up the bar. Waiters dressed as vampires, and punch was served in a cauldron. I had always loved scary stuff, you know, movies and books. Vampires and Werewolves and ghosts, oh my!

  The Crimson was supposed to have different types of music, cool strobe lights, and a huge dance-floor. The cover was cheap and the deejays were great. The bouncers were supposed to be lax in the I.D. department, too. It sounded like the perfect place to celebrate my fifteenth birthday and I was psyched. Unfortunately, my perfect night ended with Gemma exposed and the two of us near death.

  Chapter Two

  Chicago at Night

  Denise was picking me up in a few hours and I was flying. Not literally- that would come later. Dax had told us that most of the crowd wore gothic-type clothes. I took this to mean they wore a lot of black, which was why I was in front of my closet, knee-deep in black skirts, shoes, and tops. I picked up a black mini-skirt and put it in my "maybe" pile.

  Normally, I wouldn't wear such a short skirt. I’ve had a thing about skirts since an incident when I was eight years old. Let’s just say, the whole third grade shouldn’t know you still wear My Little Pony Underoos just because you got a little tuck-happy.

  The only reason that I considered wearing the mini was because it had a pair of shorts built right into the material. I tugged the mini on, found a silky red halter-top that came all the way down to my navel and tied it around my neck. After finding my three-inch black platform Mary Janes, my outfit was complete.

  I painted my toenails a blackish brown called "I Love Oil" and my fingernails a sheer crystal sheen with clear polish. I slipped on several toe-rings and a silver anklet with black beads dangling from the chain. By the time I finished my make-up and blow-dried my curly ash-blonde hair straight it was almost time for Denise to arrive.

  Stoked for my pre-birthday funfest, I’d already begun dancing. My favorite radio station was playing one of those cheesy pop-princess songs, but even that didn't put a damper on my good mood. Imitating the moves from the song's music video, I felt excited and impatient for the night to start.

  Denise called when I was in the middle of pressing a heart-shaped rhinestone decal onto my right upper arm. I rubbed the decal backing a few times, tore it off, and studied the sparkly tattoo left behind. I picked up on the third ring, but before I could say hello Denise interrupted.

  "Asch. I have some really bad news. I can't go tonight." I remained silent for a long time, waiting for her to confess that she was just kidding. When she did not I crossed my arms over my chest.

  "We've been planning this for a month.”

  "I'm so sorry, Asch. I know we've been talking about this for, like, ever, but my Step-monster is making me stay home with Rory.” Denise had a terrible relationship with her stepmother, partly because she had had something to do with her parents' separation. Rory was Denise's six-year-old stepbrother, and a terror. "I told her I had plans, but she said I need to carry more responsibility around the house.” I bit my lip in frustration.

  "Did you ask your dad?"

  "No, he has a huge mega-important meeting at work. His secretary wouldn't even put me through to him. Look, I know you are really upset and I am so sorry about this, Asch. You don't hate me do you?" I was extremely disappointed; mad even. How could she let this happen?

  "No, of course not. It's just, we've had this planned forever, and I've been getting ready all day…" I stopped in mid-sentence feeling sorry for giving her a guilt trip. It wasn't Denise's fault her stepmother was such a witch. "I understand, though. I'm just sorry she's making you sit for Rory. He's a little spaz." Denise laughed, relief filling her voice.

  "Yeah, I know. It's times like this when I think freshmen should be allowed to carry tranquilizer darts," she said. "I'm so happy you're not mad at me. We'll do this whole dance-night thing as soon as we can and we'll definitely hang out tomorrow night."

  "Definitely, I’ll see you then.”

  "Okay. Try to have a good night, Asch."

  "You, too. Good luck with Rory."

  When we had said our goodbyes, I hung up and chucked a bed pillow across the room.

  "Ascher? Is everything okay?" My sister knocked a few times before opening my door. "I thought I heard something fall." I glanced at the pillow I had thrown.

  "You heard that? Gemma, it was a pillow. Denise canceled on me. I can't believe you could hear that!" Gemma had noticed that her reflexes were becoming quicker and that she could see in the dark, but until now, I did not know her other senses had gotten stronger, too.

  I felt another pang of guilt bite at the inside of my stomach. Here I was, freaking out because I couldn't go dancing when my sister is changing into a frickin' cat.

  Real nice, Ascher.

  We still hadn't told mom. Gemma promised we would talk to her just as soon as she learned how to control her new powers. Mom had always been wary of supernatural stuff. She didn't even like us dressing up for Halloween or watching scary movies. The whole subject of magic and monsters just made her freak.

  Gemma ran her fingers through her dark brown waves and managed a small smile that did not quite reach her green eyes.

 
"Yeah. It’s been weird. I actually heard Angel walking up the stairs last night." My eyes widened. Angel was my sister's gray tabby-cat. She was almost a year old, but was the tiniest thing. The fact that Gemma could hear her walking up the thick, plush carpeting on our stairs was amazing.

  "What's it like? Does it hurt when you change shape?" I had wanted to ask Gemma this question for weeks, but never had the guts to get it out there. She smiled and stepped into my bedroom, sitting next to me on the floor.

  "It only hurts for a few seconds, kind of like I have a Charlie horse in every muscle, but then I'm so full of adrenaline, it doesn’t matter. It's kind of cool. I feel so strong and powerful. I mean, being able to move so fast and sense things more is great- but, sometimes…it's just…”

  Gemma's eyes welled up and her shoulders shook. She threw herself forward and I caught her in a tight hug, stroking her hair and making small hushing sounds.

  "I'm so scared, Ascher. I don't know what to do. I want to tell Mom and I don't want to tell Mom.” Gemma's breath caught as sobs raked her body and forced her to silence. I held her, the guilty pang in my stomach now gnawing with such force I felt as if my skin were about to burst.

  "I'm sorry, Gem. I was so caught up in my own stuff. I just didn't…” Gemma cut me off with a dismissive sweeping of her hand.

  "No, Ascher. It’s your birthday and the two of you have been planning this forever. You should be pissed.” I opened my mouth to argue, but Gemma thumped my leg. "It's my baby sister's birthday in a few days and we're gonna celebrate, okay? I will take you wherever you want to go. We both need to get out of this house and have some fun. Besides, we cannot miss the perfect opportunity to go crazy. "

  Gemma was referring to the fact that our mother was in Tampa Bay on business and would not be home until late Sunday night. Our mom didn't leave us alone, though- we weren't that lucky. Grandma Thyra, on our Mom's side, would be coming over tomorrow night to stay with us. Since we would be at school all day tomorrow and Grandma had a church meeting to go to later tonight, we had the house to ourselves.

  "It's Friday night, we've got a whole day before Grandma gets here. If we didn't go out, I'm pretty sure we'd be the biggest dorks on the face of the planet."

  "I don't know if it's such a good idea. What if you start to, you know?” Gemma stood up and placed her hands on her hips.

  "I've got to get used to this whole thing- whatever it is. I'm not going to let it control where I go or what I do. It has been getting easier to stop the change, too. I just take deep breaths and count to ten. I'm the one in control here, not this thing!” Gemma sounded as though she was trying to convince herself more than me. "No arguments, Asch. I'm going to get ready. We'll leave at eight-thirty." She spun on the heel of her slippered foot and stalked out of my room.

  Chapter Three

  The Crimson

  By the time we reached The Crimson and found a parking spot, it was nearly ten. I could feel the throbbing beat of the music under my feet as we approached the crowd of people waiting outside the club. Heads began to turn in our direction and I glanced at Gemma and smiled, used to the attention my big sister received. She rolled her eyes and dug through her small black purse, her brow furrowed. She wore a slinky black sleeveless shirt and a pair of red faux-leather pants she’d borrowed from last year’s Halloween costume.

  A trio of giggling girls surrounded one of the bouncers, trying to flirt their way inside the club. The moon was almost full, its milky-white orb seeming both small and large at once. The high-pitched beeping of my sister’s ring-tone interrupted the soft music of crickets. Gemma flipped her phone open, her free hand moving to block the pulsating beat of the music.

  "Hey, Sarah. No, I'm at a club with my…you're not serious!” Gemma mouthed a sorry and took a few steps away from the line. I rubbed the Goosebumps on my arms and stifled a small yawn. I needed a serious frappucino-fix.

  Another yawn forced my mouth open and it was at this time when my mouth was extended wide like some fish out of water that I noticed an extremely hot guy looking at me from twenty feet away, not exactly the best first-impression to make. I blushed and looked down at my shoes, feeling unnerved.

  Having been the skinny, tall, shy wallflower for the first thirteen years of my life, I found it strange that I was suddenly one of the girls getting the attention. Sometimes I still have the urge to turn to see who they are looking at or I think I must have something on my face or in my teeth. It was weird, but it was a nice change, too. Still, I feel awkward and clumsy talking to guys.

  I looked up and inhaled a sharp gulp of air. The boy who had been staring at me was walking my way. He was tall, with well-muscled arms that showed through the burnt-gold, silky material of his shirt which was covered by a black suit jacket. Black pants fell over his shiny black shoes, grazing the pavement underneath him.

  His shirt was partially unbuttoned, revealing the dark red of a stone, fastened with a black cord around his neck. Chocolate-brown hair fell in wispy layers around his face and framed his dark green eyes. Realizing I had been gawking at him the whole time, my face flushed and I bit my lip. He smiled and dimples showed on either side of his full mouth.

  Oh, God. What was I going to say?

  Not knowing what to do with my arms, I crossed them over my chest and then uncrossed them again. I scuffed the heel of my black shoe against the gravel at my feet and tried to look both bored and friendly, praying the elation and terror I felt didn’t show on my face. He came to a stop about three feet away from me, his left hand casually moving to his jacket pocket and making me believe for a moment that I'd somehow stumbled upon a photo-shoot for Calvin Klein.

  "I don't believe we've met before. Allow me to introduce myself.” He had a cultured English-accent and I nearly slapped myself to keep from declaring my everlasting love. He bowed deeply. "I am Elliot. Elliot Ambrose."

  He extended his hand to me. I reached forward to shake his hand, but he gently turned my hand and leaned down, pressing his lips against my skin. He lifted his eyes to mine and I saw their dark color turn gold as if lit by an inner flame. It had to be some trick of light.

  Breathe, Ascher. Keep breathing!

  "I…I, um…I'm Ascher Rafferty and…” I motioned over my shoulder. "That's my sister Gemma.” He regarded Gemma for a long moment and I felt a twinge of jealousy.

  "I would be honored if you would allow me the pleasure of escorting you ladies into our club,” Elliot said. "After all, it is your first time at The Crimson and we so rarely receive visits from those such as yourselves.” I smiled, thinking he had just given me a compliment of some kind. "Am I right to assume you're uninitiated?” He asked.

  "Uh, initiated? Do you mean, like, am I in a sorority?” He tilted his head to the side and laughed, the two dimples deepening.

  "What I meant to ask is have you been practicing long?"

  "Practicing what?” Were we even having the same conversation? The smooth surface of his forehead pinched into a frown. The sound of Gemma's heels clicking made me turn, grateful for the distraction.

  "Hey. What's up?” Gemma smiled at Elliot who nodded his head and bowed before returning his attention to me. Gemma and I looked at each other at the same time and had to bite our lips to keep from giggling.

  "Miss Rafferty. I have invited your sister to accompany me inside the club. I would, of course, love to have you join us.” Gemma and I exchanged another look. He must have sensed our hesitation.

  "You'd be given the, what is the phrase, VIP treatment for joining me."

  "We're actually celebrating, tonight. Ascher's fifteenth birthday is this Sunday,” Gemma said.

  "Then I would consider myself fortunate, to participate in the celebration of such an important milestone,” Elliot said.

  Wow. I thought. Does everyone in England talk so grown up?

  After a brief moment of hesitation, Gemma raised her eyebrows and shrugged as if telling me it was my decision.

  Let me see. Did I want to han
g out with this hottie straight off of one of the covers of my grandmother's romance novels? Hmm. That was a hard one.

  "Yeah. Sure. Okay." It was with those eloquent words that we entered the club.

  Chapter Four

  Pinky Promise

  Elliot rushed us past the waiting crowd and through security, excusing himself with a promise to return. Gemma went to the bar to order herself lemonade and a Pepsi for me, so I could scope out a good place to dance. I knew from the tight feeling in my face that I was grinning like an idiot. Squelching an urge to break into an impromptu Snoopy dance, I rubbed my bare arms with my hands and looked around the club.

  The Crimson was the coolest place. Its atmosphere felt charged with frenzied energy. The strobe lights made the throng of dancers appear as though they were moving in slow motion with each burst of light catching them in still poses.

  Some of the more adventurous girls danced on a platform set to the right of the dance floor, their dance moves drawing a lot of male attention. I was disappointed to see that the majority of scary decorations were lining the walls of the private entrance and not the interior of the club. I guess they thought it would be a waste to put decorations in a room that was dark.

  Two red-curtained balconies towered on either side of me; jutting from the wall like crags of rock. I thought I caught a glimpse of someone peering through the curtains hanging on the balcony to my left, but when I looked again I didn't see anything. My excitement was making me imagine things. Something icy cold pressed against my back and I jumped. Gemma stood behind me, a smirk on her face. "You're jumpy,” she teased handing me my drink.

  "You're the one with the stealthy approach there, Whiskers,” I said. Gemma rolled her eyes and slapped me playfully in the arm.