Witchful Thinking Read online

  Witchful Thinking

  Andris Bear

  Copyright © 2018 by Andris Bear

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Reminder

  Prologue

  Evangeline crept her car to a stop at the curb, then put it in park. Leaving the wipers on high to combat the pounding rain, she peered at the house with a mix of awe and dread.

  Winther house.

  Her house.

  Actually, hers and her sisters’. The lawyer of their parent’s estate had made that very clear. Upon their parents’ death, the house became the property of his daughters—not one but all four, together. Evangeline was fine with shared ownership. The thought of living in this monstrous house by herself was not only spooky, but also lonely. However, even with her sisters in residence—assuming they all decided to stay with her in Whisper Grove—Evangeline wasn’t sure she wanted to live in the house.

  Not after everything they’d lost to get it.

  Paul and Lily Winther died in what authorities had officially dubbed an electrical fire. Unofficially, they could give no reason for the blaze that burned Evangeline’s childhood home to the ground and stolen her parents. No traces of accelerant had been found, nor could the fire investigator find the point of origin.

  It was as if the flames had burst into existence with the sole purpose of consuming everything Evangeline held dear.

  The only saving grace was that Alex had been at work and the twins at school. If she had lost them, too…

  Evangeline shook her head, trying to dispel the morbid thoughts. The last thing she needed was to look for heartbreak where there was none. Rather, she willed her pulse to calm, focusing instead on the remainder of her family and how lucky she was to have them.

  What she couldn’t quiet was her mind. It threw out questions on a continuous loop, torturing her with whats, whys, and ifs. What had caused the fire? Why had her parents been home? If they had gone into work, where they should have been midmorning on a Tuesday…

  “Is that it?” Alex asked from the passenger seat.

  Dragging her gaze to her sister, Evangeline nodded. Alex was focused on the house, so Evangeline added, “Yes.”

  Alex leaned forward, squinting through the rain-splashed windshield. “It’s enormous.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” Elle piped in from the backseat. “You’ve been inside?”

  Smiling, Evangeline met her youngest sister’s wide eyes in the rearview mirror. “Yes. It’s very—”

  “How did you get in?” Alex demanded, resettling in her seat. Her hazel eyes narrowed shrewdly.

  Irked at the scrutiny, Evangeline straightened and announced, “It was unlocked.”

  The gate and door had unlocked, so if she were being technical—she was—it wasn’t a lie.

  It just wasn’t the truth, either. Not entirely.

  Alex didn’t need details. If Evangeline’s previous visit was any indication, Alex, Elle, and Mal would figure out the house had its own personality soon enough.

  “Come on,” she said, pulling her keys from the ignition and shoving them into her pocket before climbing from the car. “Make it snappy. I don’t want to get soaked.”

  Her body swayed a little as she waited for her sisters to do the same, and she wondered if the coffee she’d had before meeting with the lawyer was going to stay in her stomach. Probably should have eaten something but at the time, the thought of food had put her off.

  “Afraid you’ll melt?” Mal asked, shutting her door and coming around stand with her.

  Evangeline stared at her. If Mal had any idea how apt that reference was…

  “No,” she said, grabbing Mal’s hand and tugging her toward the gate entrance. “I’m afraid you will.”

  Mal snorted, and Evangeline smiled at her typical response. Mal was the calm storm of the bunch. Like a layer of ice under the snow, she was hard to crack, but once she did—run. Because nothing short of God stepping in would stop her.

  While she respected Mal’s frugal doling out of comeuppance, Evangeline liked to think of herself as having a little more self-control. Sure, she had emotions like everyone else, but they didn’t rule her.

  It seemed she was the only one who valued her head-over-heart mantra as Alex boasted a hair trigger and a temper that could rival the Hulk’s. Though Alex referred to her outbursts as bouts of passion, they all knew she liked to argue. If that involved throwing a punch or two or yanking out a chunk of hair, so be it.

  The only one who avoided confrontation was Ellery. Sweet Elle wore her heart on her sleeve and her brain, often, in another outfit. The girl was the epitome of naïve and tender, which was why God had given her three sisters who would pulverize anyone who tried to take advantage of her.

  Now, they were all each other had.

  Evangeline felt as though her security had been ripped out from under, leaving her dangling in the air over an uncertain cliff. Though they hadn’t spoken of it, she knew her sisters felt the same.

  Blowing out a shaky breath, Evangeline peered at each in turn. She wished for something encouraging to say, something that would give them hope and a positive outlook for the future.

  Instead, she said, “Follow me,” and then pushed open the gate, walked up the sidewalk, and headed for the porch. As soon as her foot reached the first step, a soft click sounded above her.

  Evangeline jerked her gaze up just as the door crept open. Her heartbeat thrummed in her head, and she glanced behind to see if any of her sisters noticed.

  They were busy trying to take in every detail of the house. Even Mallory couldn’t keep her eyes from sliding from one end to the other.

  Pushing through the doorway, Evangeline entered the roomy foyer. A rush of warmth settled over her, forcing the chill of the rainy day aside. A heartfelt sigh left her lips. The tension in her muscles slowly uncoiled.

  Until she spotted him.

  “Chester,” she growled, stomping over to the cat. “Where have you been?”

  From the moment she’d returned to her apartment with her sisters in tow, she hadn’t been able to find the damn cat. She’d torn the place apart, worried that something had happened to him.

  Jerkhole.

  Chester stretched his spine with a yawned cat noise. It might have been a demand for food or the promise to poop on her pillow.

  “Is this the kitty you told us about?” Elle dropped to her knees, scooped the miserable wretch into her arms, and showered him with adoration as she scratched him from one end to the other. “Where did you go, pretty kitty?” she asked.

  “Yeah, that’s the fleabag.” Evangeline didn’t know which was worse—her sister’s delighted coos or Chester’s over-the-top purring. The cat from hell deserved neither. “It’s all catnip and cuddles until he starts talking to you.”

  Evangeline ignored them in favor of the item Chester had been sitting next to. The chest was small, maybe two feet by three feet, and made of shiny reddish-brown wood—cherry, maybe, or mahogany. The same spiral symbol she’d seen by the door was carved into the hinged lid that was secured with a tarnished gold lock.

  Sticking out from under the corner of the chest was a man
ila envelope.

  Evangeline’s hand reached out on its own accord and grabbed the envelope. She watched her fingers peel back the seal, slip into the opening, and then pull out a folded sheet of paper and another smaller envelope.

  The paper rattled in her hand. Or more accurately, her hand shook, rattling the paper.

  “What is that?” Alex asked, suddenly peering over her shoulder.

  Evangeline sidestepped to avoid her sister’s prying gaze. She wanted to read it first. “Give me a minute and I’ll tell you.” Her words came out harsher than intended, but she couldn’t worry over that now. Her nerves were raw, and her body was vibrating hard enough to chatter her teeth.

  She scanned the typed letter. “It’s from Mr. Shaw, Dad’s attorney.”

  Elle released Chester to come stand next to Alex. Mal stayed put, propping her elbow on the fireplace mantel to regard Evangeline with mild curiosity. Well, then. Now that she had their attention, Evangeline read the letter aloud.

  “Dear Ms. Winther,

  Per your father’s request, the last of your inheritance was placed inside the house at 112 Main Street. He did not leave a key with me, so I assume you have it. His only instruction was that the chest not be opened until all four of his daughters were in attendance.” With a shrug, she added, “That’s it.”

  “So, let’s open it,” Alex said, moving forward before Evangeline could beat her to it.

  “Do you have a key?” Mal asked.

  Evangeline’s shouted “No!” stopped everyone in their tracks. Her cheeks flamed. She couldn’t say why she wanted, needed, to be the one to open the chest, but she did, and if she’d learned nothing else over the last few weeks, it was to trust her gut.

  There was something in that chest that was meant for her. Not her sisters—just her.

  Of course, she didn’t give voice to the certainty. She held up the second envelope with Evangeline scrawled across the front in her dad’s scribbly handwriting. “There’s another letter. It’s from Dad.”

  A weighted hush fell over them as she opened the envelope and freed the folded paper.

  Our dearest girls,

  First, your mother and I love you very much. Our greatest desire has been only to protect you. I hope you can remember that as time wears on.

  If you’re reading this, your mother and I are gone. Soon, you will face many things you do not understand. Changes may come on tidal waves or a trickle, but they are coming. You will each develop your own gifts. They will make you a target. But you are strong, so much more so than you realize. You have each other, and there is no force or magic on this earth stronger than family.

  In this chest, you will find a journal, a mirror, a ring, and a key. They are conduits and anchors to where you come from.

  The journal is mine. Read it carefully. It will help you figure out what you’re up against. I should have warned you before now, but I was afraid any mention of the craft would bring it to our doorstep.

  With the mirror, anything you see can be brought to life.

  The key will reveal the lock.

  One ring to rule them all. Just kidding. The ring is a collector. Use it wisely. Not everything taken can be returned.

  There are others like us. Find the light. It will burn away the darkness.

  Love you all,

  Dad

  P.S. If you run into Chester, he can be bought with tuna steaks and a stuffed bunny. Don’t ask.

  Chapter One

  Evangeline peered at her reflection, scrutinizing the woman in the mirror. She saw the same curly hair, same brown eyes. She still looked like a naïve college graduate with the world at her fingertips.

  But that was all that remained of the woman she’d been four months ago.

  Evangeline chuffed at her own melodrama. And she fancied herself the rational one? Maybe she’d lost that as well, because life had gone from order to chaos in a few short weeks, and she wasn’t entirely sure anything logical had made the trip.

  A glance at the clock beside the bed confirmed she’d been staring off into space for too long. She had ten minutes to finish getting ready, eat something, and chug down some coffee before she had to leave for work.

  Her boss at the library, Melissa Handscomb, aka Mimi the Militant, would gleefully fire her if she showed up late one more time. Might even have her pink slip filled out and waiting.

  What Mimi failed to realize was Evangeline despised being late as much as Mimi hated her to be. Punctuality was Evangeline’s middle name. Except when she was late.

  Running a brush through her hair tamed the mess about as well as licking the wall would have—the curls sprang back into place as soon as the bristles passed through them. For the millionth time in her life, she wondered why she’d gotten stuck with the rebellious coif.

  All of her sisters had smooth, shiny tresses while hers resembled an electrified steel-wool pad.

  She spun from her reflection to grab her shoes from the closet, nearly jumping out of her skin at the figure standing in her doorway.

  “Alex,” she hissed. “What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?”

  Her sister raised a lazy brow. “I was hardly sneaking,” she said, canting against the doorframe. “You’re as jumpy as a cat.”

  Evangeline snatched up her black flats before brushing past Alex. “I don’t like that word.”

  “What, jumpy?”

  “Cat,” she stated, slipping her foot into a shoe.

  Alex laughed, pushing off the doorframe to take a seat on her bed. “What did poor Chester ever do to you?”

  Peeking over her shoulder, Evangeline eyed her sister. What would Alex say if she answered honestly? That the cat seemed to disappear from one house and appear in another across town. He talked—granted, it was mostly in her head, so she couldn’t be sure if she could pin that one on him—and licked himself incessantly. Either the cat had the most meticulous grooming habits of any man, or the furry freak had a fetish. Her brain convulsed at the thought.

  Those off-putting attributes aside, he was also psychic. Ish. Or whatever the hell he was.

  Chester seemed to know exactly when she needed a push. He’d somehow known Evangeline needed to answer the phone that night. Had he realized her parents were dead? If so, how? More so, why hadn’t he warned her, so she could have done something to stop the fire?

  Of course, not a word of that craziness left her mouth. Instead, she dropped her focus to the bed.

  “He licks his ass where you’re sitting.”

  Alex’s gaze settled on the navy comforter. She shrugged. “He licks his ass everywhere.”

  Sadly, she was right. The mangy sod did have a thing for licking.

  “Are you done with this?” Her sister started to reach for the journal Evangeline had tossed on the bed. Panic snapped in her nerves and she lunged, scarcely beating Alex to it. That Evangeline looked like a lunatic clutching it to her chest didn’t matter—only that it was in her possession, not Alex’s.

  Alex settled back into her seat, regarding her for long moments. “What is with you and Dad’s journal? Why won’t you let anyone else see it?”

  Because it’s full of things you wouldn’t believe, even if I swore a blood oath.

  Evangeline swallowed. “I’m not finished with it.”

  “Really?” Alex unfolded her long frame and stood. “You’ve done nothing but shove your nose in it since we got here. Knowing your voracious reading habits, I bet you’ve read it five times already.”

  Seven. But who was counting?

  Evangeline hugged it tighter to her chest. “I’ll share it, but I need… to understand some things first.”

  Evangeline pretended not to notice Alex’s skeptical expression. What did she care if Alex believed her reason for keeping it close? As long as her sister kept her hands off the journal.

  It wasn’t that Evangeline didn’t want her sisters to know what their dad had written. She just didn’t want them to know that it applied to her. Or worse, only
to her.

  Evangeline wanted to assume each of her sisters would inherit abilities as well, but what if she was the only one? How would they react? She would be an outcast in the only family she had left. Would knowing their father had also been a caster save her in their opinion?

  Besides, how in the hell did one announce they were a witch?

  Hey, guess what, that Sabrina chick ain’t got nothing on me. I’m a human lie detector. Oh wait—not human ‘cause I’m a witch. Ta-da!

  Not a conversation she was ready to have. At least, not until she found a way to control it.

  “I have to go to work,” Evangeline stated, wishing Alex would leave her room so she could hide the journal. Then again, she couldn’t think of a single place to hide it that Alex wouldn’t find should she decide to snoop. Taking it with her was the only way to keep it from her sister, but the idea of removing it from the house gave her a case of the vapors.

  “Whatever.” Alex exaggerated her sulk as she turned away.

  “Evie, you have a visitor!” drifted up the stairs.

  Alex froze, then spun on her with a breathy, “A visitor,” and darted from the room.

  Evangeline shoved her dad’s journal under the mattress, readjusted the wrinkled comforter, then ran after Alex. The hiding spot wouldn’t do long term, but it was good enough until she left for work. Unless the little sneak came snooping before then…

  Rounding the curve in the staircase, Evangeline almost plowed into said sneak as she’d stopped halfway down, staring at something Evangeline couldn’t see.

  “What are you doing?” Evangeline demanded, trying to peer over her shoulder. True to form, Alex sashayed left and right, blocking her view. Evangeline considered grabbing her ankles and tipping her over the banister.

  “Holy hot balls, who is that?” Alex asked around snickers.