The Witches of White Willow Read online

  As she pulled away from the kiss she felt a tug on her mask. “Let me see your face.”

  She gasped, flung up her hand to stop him. “No!” And then she said more quietly, “You always say the mystery is what keeps you coming back.”

  “That’s not what keeps me coming back.” He smiled wickedly. “For once, I’d like to make love to you without any barriers.”

  He started to lift his own mask. Hazel caught a glimpse of high cheekbones. “No!” She stopped him once again. “Not this time. Please. I’ll find a way to come to the solstice. We’ll reveal ourselves then.” How she would do that she didn’t know, but she’d have to find a way. There had to be a way. She needed to see him one last time.

  He sighed, lowering his mask. “As you wish, sweetheart.” There was such disappointment in his voice.

  “I think we can make better use of this time.” She slid herself on top of him, slipping him inside, enjoying the feel of him filling her, consuming her, making her feel something more than obligation, duty, and the overwhelming press of her destiny.

  2

  “Healer Hart, can I have a moment?”

  Duke cringed at the tone of that familiar voice. He took another sip of his latte and turned slowly to greet his new boss. “Mother Knight, good morning.” He’d come late and hoped to slip into rounds without being noticed, but given that it was his first day of obligatory residency, locking him at home base for the next year, it was inevitable that she would want to speak with him.

  “Yes, good morning indeed,” Mother Knight said, her tone clipped, a stiff smile parting her lips. Her brown hair was pulled so tight against her head it looked painted on, piled into a bun at the base of her skull, and severely yanking her eyebrows into a permanent state of surprise. “So good to have you with us. I’ve heard great things about your Medic team and trauma tours. You come highly recommended.”

  Which surprised him greatly. While he was a damn fine trauma Healer, he was also a risk taker, a rule breaker, and on the road for a reason. As his Commanding Officer, Rook Havenbridge, often said, he was a giant pain in the ass with an ego that barely fit through the door. He was good—the ego was definitely justified—but Mother Knight had never been a woman to flatter or praise, and the fact that she didn’t even remember who he was bruised him more than he wanted to admit. He had trained under her many years before, had taken every barb she’d thrown his way, had been the top of the class and had left as soon as he could. Out of sight, out of mind as far as the Great Mother was concerned, no doubt.

  Mother Knight demanded order and conformity, something that Duke was prone to challenge. This was the last step on his path to Master Healer, which would give him the ultimate freedom to pursue his own interests. He wanted to work in the field as a Medic with his own budget, commanding his own team, and not anywhere near home base or the Great Mother.

  “I haven’t been back here since I was an intern.” He scanned the foyer once again. White Willow was ancient, a sprawling mansion built at the turn of the century. Touches of modernization had not diminished its grandeur. Electric lights and forced heating and air conditioning, or so he’d heard, were now part of the infrastructure, but that was just function. The true beauty of the place was in the ornate details, starting with the sprawling double staircase, all hand-carved wood railings, which bobbed and weaved around a grand pipe organ to the second floor and then again around an angelic fountain to the third floor. White marble everywhere else. It was a spectacular entrance, and was a testament to the rest of the rooms found at the mansion—all one hundred and twelve of them. As much as he hated being under Mother Knight’s thumb, he did really love being back at White Willow, if only for the architecture.

  The foyer had been upgraded over the years, a small coffee bar added for the comfort of the patients and their families. For all her rules, Mother Knight had done good by the place, taking over, raising tremendous funds to update and renovate, restore and improve the hospital. He’d heard she was a real bulldog when it came to squeezing money out of the board and old wealthy families alike… Also when it came to running her staff. She didn’t take no for an answer and expected great things.

  “Yes, well, that’s what I’ve come to speak with you about. We have a new crop of interns starting today,” Mother Knight started.

  Duke moaned into his cup, then coughed when Mother Knight raised her eyebrows, somehow, higher.

  “One of whom is my daughter, Hazel, and I want you to be the one to mentor her.”

  Duke choked on his coffee. “What? Uh, I don’t think…I mean…” Hazel? Who named their kid that these days? It sounded old. Just like her mother. Ancient and orderly.

  “She’s a gifted witch and a strong Healer. More importantly, she’s only here for a year, set to take her place as my designate in the Circle of One.”

  And then it clicked. Ah yes, the gifted daughter, destined to unite the Circle as a Promised One. He’d heard the stories, the conspiracy theories too. Many of the old world witches abroad felt that the Great Mother was taking advantage. That no one should condemn a youth to a life of servitude. That’s why the Promised Ones were typically from the older generations—mature witches with years of training to hone the skill it took for that kind of magic manipulation. Her daughter had reportedly been quite powerful from birth, natural raw power that came from her superb pedigree. That she was willing to go along with her mother’s wishes meant that she was obedient as well. And loyal.

  “With all due respect, Mother Knight, I don’t think I will have time to mentor. As you know, I have my own set of skill assessments to complete, ones that I have been remiss to wrap up. I only plan to be here for a few months at most. There’s great work yet to be done in the field. Witches are—”

  “Yes.” She raised her hand for silence. “Healer Hart, I am aware of your goals as well as your compassionate pursuits. We both know, however, that you are consigned to your place here for no less than one year.” The way she said it sounded like she was spitting out something bitter. She paused, then softened her tone. “But please consider this a request only. I don’t intend to burden you with added work. My daughter is here already. You can meet her and decide if she is worthy of your time.” A bustling noise came from the back hall. “Ah, everyone has assembled for morning salutations. I will introduce you afterward.”

  Duke knew that he really didn’t have a choice. If Mother Knight wanted him to mentor her daughter, he would have to damn well do it or risk being challenged continuously on his assessments. Ultimately, it was up to Mother Knight whether or not he was elevated to the rank of Master Healer. If he pissed her off, he was a goner. And with the way he usually did things, of the rule-breaking variety, he was bound to piss her off repeatedly. Better to do her a favor now and use it as a bargaining chip later.

  He had hoped, foolishly apparently, to get in and out as quickly as possible, his Commanding Officer promising to pull some strings to have him fast track through his assessments. After all, it was just a formality. He should have known better with her running the show, though. No shortcuts would happen on Mother Knight’s watch.

  “This is going to be a long year,” he mumbled.

  He took a few steps to the side, watching as the Healers assembled. It was a grand staff of at least a hundred witches and aides, all varying ranks. A hierarchy that denoted not only respect owed but magical potential and power. The interns stood at the front, dressed in long black robes that marked them as trainees. They all had their hoods up. It was a formality on day one; by the end of the day, they’d be in more comfortable attire, depending on the direction and wishes of their mentors. He didn’t pity them—a gruelling five-year apprenticeship was ahead, theory classes, labs and rotations in the hospital to build their power, knowledge and skill, also to determine where their strengths lay followed by rigorous testing. Some would falter and fail and others would rise to the top. Everyone had their place.

  That Hazel Knight only needed a year
of training suggested that she was not only powerful but being fast tracked by her mother, who had probably done much of the primary book and basic spell casting training herself. The hands on stuff wouldn’t come out of a book though; that kind of learning you could only get on the job, so to speak. Duke could only imagine what the poor girl’s life had been like. Constant study under her mother was no doubt unpleasant and unrelenting and all so she could spare the woman a place in the Circle. With her daughter there instead of her, Mother Knight would extend her own life and power for decades, perhaps even a century, to come. It was cruel by anyone’s standards and he felt pity for the poor kid.

  His thoughts shifted to his lover, the village girl with a similarly complicated relationship with her mother. Seemed to be a thing around here.

  “Is that you, Duke?” A hearty slap on the back almost made him spill his coffee.

  He turned toward the voice. “Ty Cooper.” Wow, he had aged. “You have hardly changed a bit.”

  It’d been ten years since he’d left White Willow to work on field missions, leaving behind the cohort of Healers that he’d been training with since childhood. Ty had come closest to being a best friend to Duke back then, but they’d fallen out of touch when their paths deviated. Not everyone understood Duke’s need to be on the road.

  Ty was smirking like he knew Duke was full of shit. “I was cursed, man.” He chuckled awkwardly as he ran a hand over his balding head. “Literally got hit with a nasty spell a while back. Shaved a good ten years off my life from what I can tell.”

  “No way?” Duke noted the dark circles under the man’s eyes and the hard lines that marked his face. Stress and magic, working in this place was eating him alive no doubt. Any time you were exposed to the confines of a power hub like White Willow, you risked exposure taking its toll. Ty had never been the brightest or the quickest but he didn’t deserve to be cursed. “Next time you should duck.”

  Ty laughed. “Yeah, don’t think I haven’t thought of a millions ways I could have avoided it. I was young, stupid, dare I say, cocky.” He smirked then shrugged. “You do what you gotta do though. Still out fighting the good fight? Saving all those wayward witches?”

  “Yeah. Fresh air suits me.” Which wasn’t really what being in the field was all about. He did spend a lot of time hiking through woods to get to remote villages and covens, but there was an equal amount of time in some damn good hotels, negotiating acceptable medical policy and instructing witches in healing technique and spell casting. He’d admit, his Commanding Officer was good to him, spoiling him with five star accommodations whenever he could. Either way, he wasn’t around the magic surges long enough for them to have any ill effects. Another reason why he didn’t want to stay at White Willow longer than he needed to.

  Ty leaned closer, lowering his voice as he did. “Hey, you still meddle with the humans… The ones who dabble?”

  Duke snorted, shook his head and pointed to where Mother Knight had taken her spot at the podium in front of the grand organ.

  “My fellow witches.” Her voice was amplified, a trick of magic that any good witch could do. “Today we welcome our newest Healers to White Willow, sent to us from various academies and home instructors to begin their internship, unquestionably the most important part of their journey in becoming Master Healers in their own rights. While we encourage innovation and exploration, we must all remember that the foundation of our practice is rooted in tradition and tried and tested methods of spell casting that have proven most invaluable to healing magic. New ideas, fresh power and viewpoints invigorate us, but be cautious of the temptation to let your egos go rogue, for every triumph you will have, there will be great moments of disaster. Your mentors, whom you will meet today, will guide you through this exciting time. Young Healers, be open to absorb all that you are offered, be brave enough to accept any challenge that comes your way, and be compassionate in all that you do.”

  A tittering rose among the crowd. A giddy rush of excitement. Duke remembered it, vaguely. They were so naive to think the next five years would be anything but painful and exhausting. Even he had struggled.

  “As all of you know, today is the day that the interns and their mentors will…”

  “Hey, Ty.” He pointed his coffee cup toward the group. “You know which one of those black robes belongs to the Mother’s kid?”

  Ty made a face. “Hazel?” He scanned the crowd. “I’ve heard she’s tall.”

  “You’ve heard she’s tall?” Duke scoffed. “What? As in, you have no idea what she looks like?”

  “Nah, man, Mother Knight has kept her locked up tight at their clan house since birth. Her precious Promised One hasn’t been seen by anyone but family. She’s got a cousin though, Mahdyia, who’s pretty hot, stands to reason—”

  “Healer Hart.” Mother Knight’s voice sent Ty beating a hasty retreat.

  “Catch ya later,” Ty said before beelining into the quickly dispersing crowd.

  Duke turned toward Mother Knight and the dark robe that followed meekly behind.

  “Healer Hart, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Hazel. I’ve told her a little about your skills, but perhaps you can give her an idea of some of your worldly experiences.”

  Duke opened his mouth to once again suggest that there might be a better choice as mentor—a last ditch effort. But then he couldn’t speak, because a pale white hand with delicate fingers and manicured nails lifted the black hood from her head and let it fall to her back, revealing a face that, although he didn’t know fully, he knew quite intimately.

  Those full pink lips.

  That quirk of a smile.

  The dimple he caught glimpses of when the mask slipped.

  When her green eyes locked on his, recognition flashed, then doubt, then shock. She darted her gaze to his arm, his forearm where his clan mark was visible and, if possible, her eyes grew wider.

  This was his lover. The village girl who had stolen his heart and bewitched his soul. He’d thought she was human. He’d thought wrong.

  He opened his mouth again.

  Hazel shook her head.

  He spoke anyway. “I thought—”

  A screech echoed through the foyer.

  “The dead have risen! Oh goddess, there are zombies afoot!”

  3

  Of the witches left in the foyer, there were only a handful who could probably handle the risen dead. And Hazel was one of them. Shoving aside her shock at seeing him right there in front of her—and if she had any shred of doubt, the tattoo flashing on his forearm confirmed it—Hazel stepped into the melee and began to cast.

  Her mother stepped back, a smug smirk on her face. She always wanted Hazel to prove her worth.

  Necromancy was tricky and hard to manage. The decaying corpses ambling toward her reeked of magic gone wrong. The horde of ten locked in on her, sensing the magic building around her. They were drawn to her power. She called them closer, beckoning with her finger. “Come and get me, you rotten things.”

  Other witches were trying to help. The interns were scattered behind them, looking like they wanted to run but couldn’t let their pride slip that much.

  Hazel took control.

  She cast quickly, siphoning the original spell that clung to the things, pulling the thread away and snapping it until it unraveled. It was a trick she’d learned when she was a child. Sometimes, instead of battling magic, all you needed to do was pull it apart by the seams.

  A jolt of magic rushed through her, amping her up, almost making her giddy. Where’d that come from? Her spell jumped, moving like it was on fast forward. Making each pass of her magic go ten times faster than she’d expected. She fought to stay in control, marvelled at how efficient it was and wondered if White Willow was the cause of her sudden power surge.

  As quickly as it had come, the chaos ended. The corpses fell, some limbs actually clattering away from their bodies. Lifeless once again. Gross.

  She sucked in a deep breath. She was powerfu
l. Highly trained. But that—that had left her breathless. She’d never felt a surge like that. She looked down at her hands, frowning. What the… She glanced beside her.

  And there he was, at her side, his hands out as if he’d been about to push her behind him. Frozen, with the dumbest expression on his face.

  “My daughter, Healer Hart.” Her mother’s words dripped with pride. “Someone come and clean this up.” She snapped her fingers at the orderlies. “I want a report in five minutes. How did this happen? Who is responsible?” She moved past Hazel, doubling back quickly to peck her on the cheek. “My darling, do abide by your mentor. Supposedly, he is quite good. You may actually learn something.” The look she shot him suggested she’d believe it when she saw it. And then she was gone. A whirlwind of direct orders and purposeful hand gestures.

  Everyone was scrambling to get ahead of her, anticipate her wishes before she barked them. Hazel knew that impulse intimately.

  “Where’d you learn that?” Healer Hart asked. He’d wiped the stupid look off his face and replaced it with skepticism. “That’s a year five skill.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories,” Hazel said. “Destiny etched in stone, Promised One.” She turned to face him, coming in close so that they wouldn’t be overheard. “You never said you were a Healer.”

  “You never said you were a witch.”

  “You know I can’t be your intern. It’s highly inappropriate.”

  “We’ve already been highly inappropriate—many times.” He quirked his eyebrows. “I’d say this is the perfect opportunity for us to get to know one another on a whole other level.”

  “Shut up!” she hissed, her cheeks burning. “My mother can’t know about…” She waved her hands around, feeling flustered and embarrassed and mortified. “She can’t know! And I can’t be your intern. I’ll get myself assigned to someone else.”