The Guest House Witch

Chapter One – Sage

September 4, 2019

Read when you have no hope left…

The last drop of blood has been spilled

Ally with him,

To seek revenge against your

Enemies, because your

Enemies are already his.

Bind what’s left of his soul

To yours.

Together you will even the odds,

Together you will create a new world

Trust in yourself

And never underestimate him.

After what feels like hours of walking, when in reality, is only thirty minutes, I see my mailbox. I release a thankful sigh, as I quicken my pace, fighting the sensation to scratch in a place that shouldn’t itch. ‘Mother Eve, help me,’ I cry to the sky, as the itching sensation moves to my back. Why did I lie in that flower bed?

Better question, why are humans planting Pythonissam flowers in their flower beds? Didn’t they know they are poisonous to Witches? Of course, they didn’t. I swear, it’s days like this, I wish I lived in the Woodlands, a place for the supernatural. ‘If you weren’t playing spy, you wouldn’t be itching,’ I hear my G-ma’s mocking voice and ignore it because playing spy paid the bills. I trip over the step to my door and mentally curse. The itching has me so worked up, I forgot to step up. I couldn’t wait to get inside and rub myself down in peppermint balm.

I stop short when I notice my door is slightly open. Not wide enough to alert my neighbors, but open just enough where they would assume I’m loading something in, or simply forgot to close the door. You’d be surprised how often those scenarios happen, especially in the human world. A muddy boot print on my otherwise spotless yellow door, makes me look up to the sky, annoyed. Great, here I go again.

I would like to say this surprises me, but that would be a lie. Being a Witch, with the surname of Rosewood, my family and I are accustomed to our privacy being invaded, among other things. Upon closer inspection, I notice what looks to be a folded note, on my doormat. I had the sickening suspicion I’m going to be itching for a few more hours. I hate being a Witch!

Sighing, I reach inside my purse and fumble for a storage bag. Sad, I have to keep these here for moments like this. The last time I found my door opened in this fashion was about a year ago. One would assume, since we Rosewoods live in the human world, we’d be safe. Well, we aren’t. Crossing realms apparently, is nothing to someone who seeks revenge. Using the storage bag, I carefully unwrap the note, where a bloody open salt condiment packet lies inside.

Salt to a human means high blood pressure, or maybe thoroughly seasoned food. In the Woodlands, it has the opposite connotation— it means bad luck. To a Witch, it meant your luck has run out. I’ve never received a salt threat before, but my Mother, Aunt, and G-ma have received their fair share of them, and the stories that followed the salt were never good.

Against my better judgment, I yell, “Fuck.” My duplex neighbor’s front porch light abruptly comes on. Here she goes. Before her nosy ass can come out and question why I’m yelling profanity in the middle of the night, I grab the salt, wrap it back in the letter, and stick it in the storage bag. I toss that inside my purse as I caress my raw citrine stone necklace and mumble a quick incantation.

“Keep my wits about me,

Open my senses,

Make me aware.”

The sound of my neighbor unlocking her door makes me scramble inside. If she saw me, she’d ask a million questions, questions I couldn’t answer until I dealt with this intruder problem. Behind my front door, in complete darkness, I get ready to turn on my light when I remember the muddy boot print on the door. Crap. If my neighbor saw that, she’d harass me until I’d offer up some explanation, which again, I didn’t have time to do. I place my hand against the door, already knowing what incantation I’ll use while caressing my necklace again. I whisper to myself.

“Shut your eyes

Close your instincts

Take the backseat

Let me lead

See what I think.”

I think back to my spotless yellow door, with the slight crack on the left side. I wait, sweating bullets, not knowing what she’ll do next. I know the spell will work, I have 100 percent confidence in my magical ability, but she is so nosey. She’d knock anyway, just to see what I’m doing. A minute passes, and I hear someone shouting to which my elderly neighbor replies before I hear footsteps. ‘Whoo Hoo,’ for small favors.

Still in the dark, I look around, my senses on high alert due to the first spell I performed. When nothing appears out of order, and I don’t feel the need to get the hell out of here, I flip the light on. I squint as my eyes adjust to the brightness of the room, before I groan and curse again. Whoever was here, totally did a number in my living room. My two small burnt orange couches were flipped over, the bottom of both couches sliced open as if someone was looking for something inside of them. The expensive glass table, I purchased just weeks ago, was shattered into a million pieces, by one of my larger stones, I used when making spells. The small table lamp that was once upright is tossed on the floor as well, the light bulb shattered.

I move into the kitchen and nearly slip on what has to be egg yolks and mayonnaise. I turn the light on and see everything I once had in my refrigerator has been tossed onto the floor. The refrigerator and freezer door were both left open, water was pooling on the floor due to the freezer defrosting, letting me know that this happened earlier in the day. It made me wonder if they were just lucky, breaking into my place when I wasn’t home or if they’ve been watching me, knowing I wouldn’t be home. I bet the latter. I growl in anger before moving into my bedroom.

Chapter Two – Sage

Feathers lined the floor, mixed with every condiment I had in my refrigerator. My mattress lies against the bedroom window, cut open too. My sheet and comforters were tossed on the floor, with more condiments thrown on top.

Who has the time to do crap like this, I wonder, making my way to my closet, stepping over clothes that should be hung up instead of piled on the floor. When I notice my safe box is open and another letter is sitting in there, I smile. I could only imagine their disappointment when they realized the safe was empty. Anything I deem of value, I always kept on my person. I look down at the trailer key charm I wore on my ankle bracelet. The trailer key charm is actually a spelled mini trailer, where I keep all of my personal belongings. Whenever I need it, I would perform a retrieval spell, and it would grow to its normal size. Again, being a Rosewood, we anticipate these things.

I pull another storage bag out my purse to grab the letter, which reads, “Where is it?” The it is the Grimoire of the Rosewood—our spellbooks, which holds not only our spells but the history of who we are as Witches. Each living Rosewood has a Grimoire, which means, as of today, there are four volumes. My G-ma has volume one, my Mother volume two, my Aunt Heaven volume three, leaving me with the last book, volume four. If another supernatural got their hands on any of these books, the Rosewood family would be screwed. Good thing I keep my book in my trailer as well.

Now sitting in my closet, I gather strength to do what needs to be done next, namely clean, wash, pack, and move. My phone vibrating in my bag makes me roll my eyes. I know who is calling. One would think, in addition to being a Witch, she’s also psychic. I pull my phone out of my purse and answer it dryly.

“Hello, G-ma-”

“They have Heaven and Neveah,” she informs me panicky, and she never panics. G-ma is that strong patriarch, yes, patriarch, of the family— she keeps us all calm and level-headed. I jump up. If she is panicking, it means shit has literally hit the fan.

“Wait . . . ” I lose my train of thought. “What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter.” I can hear things being thrown around in the background. “I’m setting you up in a safe house-” I interrupt her.

“G-ma -”

“You’ll be living near an alpha in that region—”

“The Woodlands! You’re hiding me away in the Woodlands?” I hear more things being thrown around.

“You have two hours to get down their, Sage,” she tells me.

“But—”

“Enough, Sage, enough!” she yells, making me sigh. “Neither I nor you, have the time to do this right now. Yes, you are going to the Woodlands, you have two hours to do so.” She pauses, and I hear her whisper. I know she’s saying an incantation, but I can’t make out the words. When she finishes, she curses. Oh, Mother Eve, this doesn’t look good at all. G-ma didn’t curse. “I,” she stresses the word, “will look for them, you will stay put in that safe house. If I need you, I will seek you out.” She takes a long breath. “You will not seek me out. Am I understood?”

“Yes—” I reply, about to ask her more questions, but of course, she cuts me off.

“You will not do anything that resembles looking for your Mom or Aunt!”

“Yes, but I can help, I can -” The sound of shouting makes me stop talking, trying to identify what the person or supernatural is saying. Again, my G-ma, begins whispering, another incantation, no doubt, as I hear a scream.

“You will not help!” she yells. “You will stay put Sage, or so help me, I will strip your powers away from you.” I open my mouth to remind her I’m grown, but decide to close it, not wanting to do this now, especially with whatever she is dealing with on her end. “You will await further instructions, am I understood?”

“Yes,” I reply, annoyed.

“Two hours is all you’ve got. Clean the house, pack, and go to the nearest portal. Keep that book on your person at all times.” A dial tone follows, and I know that means the conversation is over. I hate being a Rosewood Witch.

Chapter Three – Kayden

Silence, complete and utter silence, is all that’s heard in one of the seven larger fields that my pack and I own, which we are currently lounging in. As a Wolf, silence of any kind is eerie, being in a pack, you welcomed, or should I say became accustomed to noise, it brought comfort.

The cool breeze makes me shiver inwardly, and I release a sigh. Summer was particularly brutal this year, and I had yet to figure out why, so fall is greatly welcomed. The smell of spicy citrus diverts my attention and makes me open my eyes to find the source of that new but delicious smell. My eyes land on my pack, who all have their eyes closed, meditating— except for a group of kid-pups, who take one look at my opened eyes and shut theirs immediately.

“I haven’t smelt this smell before,” Aleron, the Were to my Wolf, informs me mentally. I ignore him. “Still ignoring me?” Aleron questions to which I don’t reply.

If he hadn’t pulled the stunt he did a week ago, I wouldn’t be ignoring him. Aleron, had the tendency to go berserk, just for the hell of it, when he turned into a Wolf. He’ll destroy and kill anything in his path, which sucks for me because he’ll stay in Wolf form until he calms down. Which means I’m stuck, watching, waiting until I’m in control again. It goes without saying— I hate taking the back seat.

“I suppose you want an apology?” Aleron questions, to which I don’t reply. “Well, it won’t happen,” he replies on a huff—stubborn Wolf.

An irritated and very loud sigh makes me open one eye in search of where the sound came from. Sean, with his sandy brown hair in frizzy braids and brown skin, is no longer sitting crisscross but now has his feet stretched out in front of him. He makes eye contact with me but bows his head, showing submission. Ahh, a welcome distraction, I think to myself.

“You have something to say?” I ask Sean, not challenging him, just wanting to hear his reason behind this sudden outburst.

“May I speak openly?” Sean swallows.

“Yes, the forum is open,” I tell him.

“This. Is. So. Boring,” Sean stresses each word before falling to his back and covering his eyes. The kid and baby pups laugh at his antics while the older and seasoned Wolves smile. “And unfair,” he says before sitting back up. I knew I had to address the why of this, but his latter statement puzzled me.

“Why is this unfair?” I question.

“The girls never do this kind of stuff,” Sean says with a pout and looks to his friends who all nod their heads in agreement. “I heard they go out and get lunch and do other girly things together, not this meditating stuff.” Sean puffs out his cheeks. I open my mouth to explain, but one of the seasoned Wolves, Darrien, a father to me, with salt & pepper hair, and a scar that runs down the length of his neck, holds up his hand.

“Alpha, if I may,” he says, before looking down, being submissive as well. I mentally sigh. He didn’t have to do that, but he did anyway, especially in front of the whole of the pack.

“Yes, please go ahead,” I tell him.

“Sean,” Darrien looks in his direction, then clears his throat. “Women and men, boys and girls, are not the same. Women, you see, have more control over their emotions.” A few of the older and seasoned Wolves make disapproving noises. Sean looks at them questionably. I laugh at his response. He has a lot to learn about women.

“Women are headaches, all of them,” Aleron says, and I can’t help but agree.

“Let me clarify, guys,” Darrien begins again. “I meant to say that women and girls have better control over their Wolves and their Wolves’ emotions.” I watch as the older and seasoned wolves nod their heads reluctantly. None of us, especially us males, want to admit that we don’t have control over our Wolves. However, it’s the truth.

“It’s harder for we males,” Darrien continues. “especially since both ourselves and our Wolves are told at a young age that we are leaders. That we must be strong, even protective, those characteristics, individually, are difficult to overcome. Now imagine, sharing your soul, your essence, your body, with a Wolf, two strong-willed individuals constantly fighting each other for dominance.” I look to Sean, who has a bored expression on his face. This is going over his head, which I should have expected, he’s only a kid-pup. “The meditation,” Darrien says, getting to the point, I guess noticing Sean’s attention wavering. “Helps, not only do you get to know your Wolf more, you guys can become one, which is the end goal.” Sean sighs.

“Okay, I get that, but can’t we do fun stuff too?” Sean questions. His friends whine in agreement. They turn their attention to me, waiting for a response.

“I suppose, a little fun wouldn’t hurt us,” I reply. Sean and his friends rejoice in excitement. “But . . . ” I stop, waiting for their undivided attention. They finally stop rejoicing and look at me, dropping their heads in submission. “That means during our meditation hour, I need you participating, even if it’s only twenty minutes out of the hour.”

“Yes, Alpha,” they say together in unison, now bowing their heads in submission.

“Now shift, all of you.” I look to the kid and baby-pups. “Do not pass the line bordering our lands and keep an eye out for the baby-pups.” The baby-pups sigh in response to being watched. I watch them as they strip out their clothes and carefully put them on the ground. They all whine, none of them wanting to shift. The kid and baby-pups are required to shift three times a day, by force, my command. The older they become, the required shifts would lessen, going from three to two, than one. Before long, they would only shift for certain purposes, i.e., fighting, perimeter walks, ceremonies, and challenges.

I hear the pained cries, the bones breaking, reshaping until finally, their Wolf emerges. Before they take off into the woods, they rub against me, a common procedure. My scent both brings them comfort and will alert other Wolves, who don’t belong to my pack, that they are under my protection.

Chapter Four – Kayden

“With September comes Fall,” I tell the remaining men, standing to my feet. “Which means mating season is approaching.”

A few of the Wolves, closer to my age, grin, while the seasoned Wolves roll their eyes. Mates are essential to Werewolves, especially male Werewolves. Having a mate means you have better control of your Wolf. I didn’t know the how or why of it because I have yet to be mated.

“It’s your year,” my beta, Ravon, tells me. The pack claps their hands in agreement.

“And to celebrate, we’ll throw a big feast,” Darren announces to the pack. “Kim is planning it as we speak.” I give them a smile when really, I want to roll my eyes. When the Alpha of a pack mates, everyone else within the pack, male or female, mates within months, if not weeks. Which is great, I want my pack happy and mated— they deserve it. My problem is with the woman of the mating equation. No, I didn’t hate women, nor did I have any problems attracting nor having sex with them. It’s just, women are so needy and just —there. I couldn’t imagine giving up more time, that quite frankly, I didn’t have. Nor did I care to share my space with anyone, I already have to do it with the pack. “Kim also has started preparing the ball announcements. She’s aiming for New Year’s Eve this year, a winter ball.” The pack and I nod our heads in approval.

“Any other news?” I ask my pack changing the topic.

“I don’t know if it’s news,” Trenton begins. “But Witches, a coven, more specifically, are being targeted by someone from the Woodlands.” News I haven’t heard, I’m intrigued.

“Who is being targeted?”

“The Rosewoods,” Trenton says with a shrug of his shoulders. I’ve never heard about these Rosewoods. Their surname is foreign to me. I look to my seasoned Wolves, whose eyes enlarge, showing they have heard of them.

“What do you know about these Rosewoods?” I ask Darren, knowing he’ll give it to me straight.

“The first set of Witches,” he replies slowly. I suppose that meant they are worthy of importance, right?

“Aleron,” I call out to him, knowing he would supply me with more details.

“Does this mean your speaking to me again?” He questions.

“For the time being,” I reply to which he snorts.

“The Rosewoods are important, and neither he nor anyone will speak about this out loud because it’s forbidden, but they’re responsible for creating the vampires,” Aleron informs me.

“I assumed the Witches responsible for the creation of the vampires had the surname of B.”

“Baizewood, are whom you’re referring too, which is a warlock coven, not a witch coven.” Yes, the Baizewoods.

“Is this something we should look into?” I ask Darren, my attention back on him. He shakes his head, no.

“They don’t like others meddling in their affairs,” Darren informs me. “Nor do they live in this realm, which is why the news of them being targeted is puzzling.” The smell of lavender invades my nostrils, causing us to turn our heads in the direction it’s coming from, where we see Kim, Darren’s mate, and a Mother to me, heading toward us.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with the girls doing, whatever?” Darren questions her.

“I was, but Licia fell ill, so we came back,” she tells us before looking to me and bowing her head in submission, smiling at me affectionately. “Alpha?” She looks up to me.

“Yes,” I reply, knowing she’s only doing that for the sake of the pack.

“Did you rent out the guest house?”

“No,” I tell her and look to the others in my pack, wondering if they did without my permission. They shake their heads no as well.

“Well, someone did, and a Witch is moving in as we speak, her name is Sage.”

Chapter Five – Sage

I finish packing the rest of my belongings, now looking over my duplex to make sure I didn’t forget anything important. Still annoyed that my G-ma is forcing me to the Woodlands, to hide, of all things. I can help her. Yes, I’m young, and individually, she’s extremely powerful, but two is always better than one. Also, why is she sending me to a realm where we supposedly have so many enemies? It didn’t make any sense. If I wasn’t a hundred percent sure of my G-ma’s love for me, I would’ve assumed she’s sending me to my death. But I know that isn’t true— she only wants to protect me. It’s always been that way, and I suppose it always will be, especially with me being the youngest Rosewood.

Heck, I didn’t know how to get to the Woodlands, considering I’ve never been, but of course, my G-ma thought of everything. By way of spell, she sent me the location of the portal closest to me, which from the looks of the map, the human world has hundreds of portals to the Woodlands.

I say a final goodbye to my duplex, knowing I’d never be able to come back here again. That’s the life of a Rosewood— we never stayed anywhere for too long.

Turning up my nose at the location of the portal under a bridge. Food wrappers line the ground, along with a sleeping bag and blankets. I scan the area looking for our goddess’s initials, as I was instructed to do. I really wish my G-ma would have given me more time because it’s hard to make out much of anything in the darkness. Finally, after a lot of squatting and squinting, I notice ME, our goddess initial.

Looking around, making sure no one is present for what I have to do next, I dig my mini knife out my back pocket. I slice my palm, not hissing from the pain, use to that as well. I ball my fist and wait for the blood to fall on top of her initials. Only blood from born residents of the Woodlands are allowed entrance into the Woodlands, I recall, reading my G-ma instructions. I didn’t have time to marvel at the fact that I was born in our realm. I always assumed, my mom had me in the human world. The initials glow, before the ground splits apart, revealing stairs and more darkness. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a handkerchief, wrapping it around that very hand.

My descent down the stairs is easy, but that changes quickly when the stairs shift, and I begin climbing them. The temperature has also changed. In the human world, it’s hot— that sticky kind of hot. In here, it feels cooler, not cold. I suppose that means it’s Fall in the Woodlands. I continue walking up the stairs but stop when I notice a bright light. It must be morning, maybe early afternoon, in the Woodlands. I take a deep breath, preparing myself mentally for whatever is awaiting me in this realm.

The smell stands out to me first. The Human world always smells dirty from pollution, trash, feces, and the overall disregard for the care of their planet, but here in the Woodlands, it smells earthy and crisp. My skin also doesn’t feel oily, as it did in the human world. I don’t feel the need to rush back home and shower. I look down to the grass underneath my feet and smile at how green and lush it looks, almost unnatural. The sky is blue, animated blue, not the dull blue I’m used to, and the sun isn’t as blinding as it is in the human world. I could look up in the sky and not fear going blind. A serene feeling washes over me. The Woodlands is freaking awesome. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I assumed. I smile at that thought, safehouse, here I come.

I sit on the wood-paneled floor in the safe house, which is really a guest house, butt-naked and covered head to toe in homemade peppermint balm to stop the itch from the Pythonissam flower. The walk from the portal to the guest house was excruciating, over ten miles.

As soon as I stepped inside the guest house, I felt at home. Never, in my twenty-five years of life, have I felt this way, and that leaves me puzzled. If the Woodlands, makes supernaturals feel like this, why deny me the chance of living here? I want so desperately to ask my G-ma that question, but I learned a long time ago, I didn’t have an ‘ask and receive an answer’ type of family. I have the ‘follow orders, don’t step out of line, and survive’ type of family.’ Continuous ringing from my cell phone makes me release a long and peeved sigh.

“G-ma,” I answer on the third ring, annoyance in my voice because even though this place feels like home, I’m still irritated with her.

“You’re there,” she states. “I can feel your energy.” Is she also in the Woodlands, I wonder? Is that why she sent me here, to be closer to her?

“Yes,” I reply. “Do you have any leads on Mom and aunt Heaven yet?”

“Who?” my G-ma questions, before she snorts, which surprises me, because that’s unlike her character. “Yes, Heaven and Neveah, no such luck yet.” It could be my tired brain, from cleaning, packing, moving, walking miles, unpacking, while itching and starving, but she sounds weird, off even.

“Uh-huh, well, I guess, you’ll keep me abreast,” I tell her, not really knowing what else to say. A long moment of silence follows my statement.

“We’ll meet up to discuss my findings.” Meet up? What? Immediately, I realize that this is not my G-ma. Didn’t she say she would seek me out? It didn’t make sense. Why put me in a safe house, if you are going to have us meet outside the safe house?

Chapter Six– Sage

I recall our last phone conversation and how it sounded as if she was fighting someone. Did they capture her, just as they captured my Mom and Aunt? Better question, how did this person know about me? Yes, everyone in the Woodlands knows about us Rosewoods, but I always thought I was the exception to that because I did not grow up in the Woodlands, like they did. I look at the phone, puzzled, not knowing what to do next. Should I perform a spell in hopes of trying to discover this imposter’s identity? Should I call the imposter out on their crap? I swallow and make a hasty decision.

“Sorry, G-ma,” I reply, playing along. Although, what should I be apologizing for? I think of the first lie that comes to my mind. “Someone was knocking on my door.” That makes sense, right? “Call me whenever you want to meet up.” I sigh. “And I know you think you got this, but if you need me, don’t hesitate to call,” I add, hoping I still sound oblivious.

“Goodbye,” the imposter says in a bored voice. I handled that situation nicely.

I quickly crawl to the closet, where the single and only box I had yet to unpack sits. I reach inside, pulling out a grapefruit, my favorite pocket knife, and three separate silk pouches, which contain a single hair sample each from my mom, aunt Heaven, and G-ma, in addition to red and orange chalk, and a rose with thorns. To successfully do my summoning spell, one has to use the personal effects of that person. The rose is our family flower, the grapefruit is our family fruit, and the hair from each of them will make sure the spell yields better results.

I use the red chalk to spell our surname Rosewood. I draw a circle, using the orange chalk, and connect the circle using our surname initials, RW. I divide the same circle into four equal parts. I cut the grapefruit into slices and place a single slice in each empty sections of the equally divided circle. I place the rose in one section, my Mom, Aunt, and G-ma hair samples in the remaining sections. I grasp my necklace, already knowing the incantation, I want to use.

“Ancestor Rosewoods,

I beg of thee

To listen to me

In this dire,

Time of need.

Send to me

The books of three.

Rosewood

To

Rosewood

Where our

Secrets

Shall stay

With me,

Or

I’ll perish

Protecting thee.”

I look up at the suspended black hole that appears after the incantation. I know my G-ma said not to do anything, but I have to know if they are okay. Sometimes my family found their selves in sticky situations, which makes communicating, damn near impossible. Worst case scenario, they’re imprisoned, which is a lot better than them being dead. The spell I performed would confirm how much trouble the three of them are in. If the books appear, it tells me all is lost, and the worst has happened. The Rosewood ancestors only send the books to a living Rosewood when something drastic happened, like death. If the books never appeared, they are all right, just in a little danger. I was hoping like hell it’s the latter.

I decide, than that I will definitely not sit idly by, looking only at this black hole. I’m going to help them even if my G-ma doesn’t want me too. A visit to town sounds like a good start. I recall my aunt telling me they were in the Woodlands not too long ago when I spoke to her a few days ago. Maybe if I saw some of the places they visited, I can figure out what they were doing before they went missing.

Something the supernatural impersonating my G-ma said registers with me— how he or she could feel my energy. I think back to me slicing open my palm, just hours ago. I have a feeling my blood, alerted the supernaturals here in the Woodlands of my presence. Usually, when dealing with situations like this, I preferred staying incognito. Now, I wasn’t so sure I had that option, unless I went back to the Woodlands portal, left, and re-entered with a different aura, a spelled aura. I suppose that could work.

I mentally make a list of the stuff I need to do before showering. A spell to change my aura, re-enter the Woodlands with this new spelled aura, a boundary spell to keep anyone and everyone from entering my guest house without my permission. Also refilling my stone, the one I wore around my neck, with more spells because it was nearing empty. I sigh. There’s never a down moment for a Rosewood witch.

After finally showering and checking the black hole for the hundredth time, I head to the kitchen intending to eat the gumbo I prepared. When I round the corner, I stop dead in my tracks, startled and a little alarmed by the big, muscular blonde guy sitting at the counter eating a big bowl of my gumbo.

His skin is the color of Ivory but kissed by the sun, making him appear golden, with an oval face. His hair is dirty blonde, medium length, pulled into a very messy man bun. His blonde beard is thick, not caveman thick but rugged thick and neatly trimmed, along with his thick, perfectly arched dirty blonde eyebrows above the most beautiful aqua blue eyes. All wrapped in a tall package of six-feet-three, maybe six-feet-four, with a very muscular body, as if he’s never had a cardio day in his life because he only cared about lifting weights. He looks intimidating, but damn, that didn’t make him any less sexy. My body, once calm and cool, thanks to my peppermint balm bath, now feels hot and bothered, similar to a hot flash that creeps up on you with no warning.

I feel the need to fan myself, to cool myself off, but I resist, not knowing how he’ll perceive that. There’s a tingle in a place that hasn’t tingled in a while, which makes me want to stop everything, rush back to my room, and play with myself until I no longer tingle. Realization hits me. Wait a minute, is my body reacting this way because of him? I mean, yes, I did want to screw him. And usually, when someone trespasses into my home, my first thought isn’t jumping in bed with them. I snort. Oh, Mother Eve, he is the reason I’m experiencing these symptoms. I internally laugh. Very funny Mother Eve, as if I have the time to get laid.

Chapter Seven – Sage

“Be at ease. I didn’t come to harm you,” he says, breaking the silence while finishing my gumbo. His words may promise safety, but his sneaking in here gives me a different feeling. I quickly analyze his aura. It’s dirty yellow, much like his hair, but bright, blindingly bright. Auras, which all Witches could see, tell us how powerful the supernatural is. Assumptions about the color of the aura meaning if the aura is light, you are good, and if dark you are bad, is a total lie.

Truth be told, you couldn’t determine if a person is indeed good or bad just by aura alone, it isn’t possible. But what the aura did indicate is the strength and power of that particular supernatural. The brighter the aura, the more powerful they are. Dull auras indicated they are weak. If the aura is somewhere in-between, it means the supernatural isn’t weak nor strong. You’d be surprised by how many humans have strong auras. It always made me wonder if they received their power from a supernatural parent they weren’t aware of or if simply they were powerful because they are just them.

The sensation of being pulled in by his aura, like he is the magnet, and I’m the iron, is a new feeling to me. I’ve never been around a person whose aura could do that. I suppose that explains why I want to fuck him. Another thought occurs to me. How did he get inside? Before getting into the shower, I spent an hour outside lining the property of my house, saying an incantation to prevent any unwelcome visitors. The spell is fresh, so there is no excuse as to why it didn’t work. Did magic not work on him? Needing to test my suspicion, I think of a telekinesis incantation. I look to the bowl he’s still holding with one hand.

“Weightless as the moon,

Light as a feather.

May the objects,

Surrounding me,

Do my bidding.”

The bowl rattles and blondie raises a single eyebrow toward it, then me. I chant the incantation again and watch as the bowl continues to shake but doesn’t lift. Blondie puts his other hand on the bowl, and it stops rattling completely. Magic didn’t work on him. Why would a Witch or Warlock bless him with this ability? Because magic not working on you is definitely a blessing.

I watch him get up and place the bowl in the sink, never turning his back on me. His quietness is a little unnerving. My G-ma always warned me to be careful of those who didn’t speak. Their silence means they are calculating and deadly. I approach him while he raises that eyebrow again. Slowly, I begin circling him, hoping it will rattle him.

“You may not be aware of this, but you circling me, a Werewolf . . . ” He’s a Werewolf! “Is seen as a challenge.” His blue eyes glow. “Are you challenging me, Pint-sized?” His voice now deeper, I think I may have wet my panties. Ooooh!

“Scared I might win, Giant?” I question in return. His eyes move down to mine, and we stare at each other for a while. I don’t know much about Werewolves— my family didn’t really discuss them much like the other supernatural in the Woodlands. I always assumed they were not worth mentioning— weak. His eyes glow again before a smile graces his face. He’s even sexier when he smiles. I feel that tingle between my legs again.

“Powerful, aren’t you, Pint-sized?” he states, his eyes still glowing. I stop to give him a, ‘you better believe it’ smile. He begins to circle me, which puzzles me. What is he doing? What are we doing? He surprises me by running his fingers, slowly and seductively up and down my arm, before running his hands along my exposed collar bone, causing me to shiver, before he runs them down my back, causing a fire between my legs. Be strong. Your mission isn’t to sleep with this man, who you don’t know. I grab his hand, stopping him from whatever he is going to do next while stepping away from him, putting some space between us. He notices that and smiles again. “Not afraid of me, but afraid of this attraction?” I ignore his question.

“Why are you here, Giant? I know you must have a reason other than wanting to fuck me.”

“I’m here because I don’t believe you sought my permission to move into my guest house.” Hmm, you know when my G-ma mentioned I’d be in close proximity of an Alpha, I didn’t expect him to be so close, like the mansion next to my little house, nor did I expect him to be so young and sexy. Although, him being an Alpha explains why his aura is so bright. Wait, did he say you didn’t seek my permission? How did he not know I was moving in? Did my G-ma really not ask his permission before commanding I come here? What is going on?

“Who are you hiding from, Rosewood?” His eyebrow raises while he gives me a look that says, ‘yea, I know who you really are.’ Out of all the Witches and Warlocks in the Woodlands, how did he guess my family moved into his guesthouse?

“My secrets are my own,” I tell him. “Will you kick me out?” He doesn’t answer but continues walking closer to me, making me back-up until I run into the wall behind me. I don’t fear anyone, but this sexual tension between us, is . . . well . . . scary.

He places both his hands above my head on the wall before he leans down, still towering over me, bringing his body flush against mine. Mother Eve, please help me refrain! I relax my body, not wanting to let him know, he definitely has me worked up. His head dips down as if he’s going to kiss me.

I lean in as well, while reaching for my small knife. It’s always on me, even when I’m in the comfort of my own home. I place it against his throat with the intention of cutting him if he continues whatever this is. He exhales and lifts that eyebrow.

“Stop trying to seduce me,” I warn him. He puts his hands up in surrender. “Now, will you kick me out?” He rises, no longer bending to my height, and the knife nicks him, but he doesn’t respond to it. Either he isn’t aware, or it simply doesn’t faze him. He turns around, walking away, not answering my question. When he makes it to the front door, he stops and turns to look at me. I stop mid-step, hoping he’d lift me up and take me to the bedroom. No, no! I mentally chastise myself. Remember, no sex.

“No,” he finally replies. It takes me a minute before I realize what his no is in response to. Before he walks out the now open door, he turns to face me. “Keep my pack out of it, Rosewood,” he threatens, then leaves.

Chapter Eight– Kayden

I sit inside Tres Eye, depicting a level of calm when inwardly, I’m highly exasperated. I always am when I meet with Cain. A monthly and unfortunate non-negotiable occurrence since I have the second largest pack in the Woodlands. Also, he is both a founding and current member of The Guild.

The Guild are the monarchs of the Woodlands, they make the rules, issue out punishment, etc. Just with any monarch, some loved and adored them, while others absolutely despised them. Me, knowing who Cain is, since he had a hand in raising me, I knew him to be an asshole, who didn’t care about others, only himself, but I digress.

“This asshole always keeps me waiting,” I tell Aleron mentally.

“Forgive my tongue, but he deserves to die,” Aleron replies to which I agree. We’re back on speaking terms again. I decided to put my pettiness to the back burner after meeting Sage. I need all hands on deck, especially if I’m going to sleep with her.

“Are you thinking of her again?” Aleron questions knowingly, like he read my mind.

“You gotta admit, she’s smoking hot and her ass –”

“You are a disgusting pig,” Aleron replies, cutting me off.

“Like you never had sex when you were supposed to be guarding Mother Eve.” Aleron mentally gasps and stutters.

“I would never.” Liar. “I am a solider to my goddess, that’s it, I do not have personal needs.” I snort, sure you didn’t.

I look around Tres Eye, sighing heavily at the labeled spells on the wall, which ranged from love, wealth, even positive dreams. I’ve always wondered if the spells truly worked. What if our thoughts are so powerful it made us believe they worked, when they didn’t, almost like a placebo effect? If any other Witch heard me speak this way, especially about Lelah’s spells, the shop owner, who’s not only a Witch but is married to the warlock on The Guild. They’d kill me.

“Baizewood is the warlock on The Guild?” I ask Aleron, remembering our conversation from yesterday.

“Yes, ” Aleron responds.

“Why did I think his family was responsible for the vampire race and not the Rosewoods.”

“The Woodlands are sexist, The Guild, which your step-father is a part of, would rather have the Woodland residents believe that the first Warlocks were responsible for Vampires, to discredit the Rosewood Witches due to the fact they never thought of doing it themselves, it’s ingenious really.” Ingenious indeed.

The smell of peppermint has me scrunching my nose in disgust. Even after all these years, that smell still disturbs me. The bell rings, seconds later, alerting me and every other customer in the store that Cain has arrived. He quietly moves through the room, gaining attention from the women sitting and enjoying their coffee beverages. He stands in front of me, not taking a seat, not until I address him. Childish.

We are two opposites. Whereas I have fairer features, he has darker ones. Even our eye color are different— mine are aqua blue, his are honey.

“How did I ever assume he was my real father?” I wonder to Aleron.

“You were young,” Aleron reminds me.

“May Mother Eve keep us . . . ” I say as a welcome because I want to get this over with.

“May Mother Eve never leave us,” he finishes for me and takes a seat, making himself comfortable.

“Funny how he still uses this ancient greeting, when I know without a doubt, he doesn’t abide by her rules,” Aleron says. I couldn’t agree more.

“Many thanks for making yourself available to meet with me on such short notice.” As if I had any other choice.

“My pleasure,” I reply sarcastically. He snorts in reply. “Why did you request this meeting? Yes, we met monthly, the first of every month, meaning we had our bullshit ass meeting three days ago. What did he want?

“A Witch, one with a familiar scent, has entered the Woodlands, did you by chance meet this Witch, or has anyone in your pack seen this Witch?” he questions. Aleron laughs, already knowing I won’t say anything.

“Yes, actually, I did. She said she was looking for someone,” I lie, wanting to get him riled up.

“Names, did she give you hers or tell you the names of the people who she was looking for?” Cain questions.

“She wasn’t forthcoming at all, saying she just followed their scents—"

“Aura,” he corrects for me.

“Oh, yea, Witches don’t have our smell.” His eyes glow.

“You know, I’ve never had the opportunity to see his Wolf,” Aleron informs me.

“I thought all you Wolves know each other,” I respond back jokingly.

“You are not funny,” Aleron replies dryly.

“Your serious?”

“Yes, I’ve never seen his wolf,” Aleron says again. That’s weird.

“You didn’t meet anyone, did you?” Cain question, making me redirect my attention to him.

“Nope,” I reply. Angrily, he tosses the table we’re on, over.

“Do not play with me, boy,” he warns. I get up to leave instead of fight— quite frankly . . . I’m not in the mood.

“Am I dismissed?” He quickly closes the space between us. With Cain being a member of The Guild, the smart thing would be to fear him. I don’t, not now anyway. For whatever reason, he has yet to kill me. He used to beat me, among other things, when I was a child, but he’d always stopped before he dealt the final blow. The beatings stopped altogether when Kim, Darrien, and Ravon took me in. Still, he did other things to make our lives a living hell. We survived, though.

“Boy, don’t show off in this public forum.” I continue looking at him, well looking over his head. I tower over him an inch or two. “Tread lightly, boy.” He says and pushes me, not enough to move me, but enough to show me he meant business, which makes me laugh. If he wants to fight, we could, but he never did, and I suppose we never would.

“Pussy,” Aleron says as I watch Cain walk out the door. I smile in response to what Aleron said.

“When did you start using that word?”

He sighs, annoyed. “Oh, shut up, you use it all the time.”

“Yea, but it’s expected of me to use it. I’m the bad boy, remember,” I tease him.

“Ehh,” is his reply as I get up and leave Tres Eye, ready to start my day.

Chapter Nine– Kayden

I sit on my bed, going through my mother’s personal items. I haven’t looked through them since I left Cain’s pack during my tenth year. She died when I was five, and it brought up so many emotions in me. Emotions I didn’t like to acknowledge.

“Will I ever move past this?” I ask Aleron.

“You will if you address it.” I scoff. “Once you do, you’ll be unstoppable.” I’ve learned not to reply to him when he’s like this. Most Wolves try to be in tune with their riders, and yes, that’s basically what I am for my Wolf, Aleron, as all of us are for our Wolves. Aleron sighs.

“Your the Wolf, and I’m the rider,” I tell him, wanting to piss him off because of his reply.

“I told you not to use that word. It’s disrespectful.” I laugh.

The media portrays Werewolves as one— as if we are born this way. In actuality, it’s far from the truth. What no one tells you, not even the supernatural from the Woodlands, is that we Hunters, now known as Werewolves, were the first supernatural race in the Woodlands.

Hunters were blessed with skills before the Wolf came into the picture. We were good with our hands when it came to building and sculpting. In addition to having the strength of five human males, we could also communicate with Wolves. But that seemed minuscule in comparison when the other supernaturals started popping up in the Woodlands, with abilities that, of course, rivaled ours. Witches, being blessed with magic, could create spells and read auras. Fairies have the ability to fly, hide their wings at will, in addition to reading minds. Elves have mastery fighting abilities and could forge any type of weapon. Vampires have the ability of speed and could kill you by draining your blood. Again, in our Hunter minds, we couldn’t compete.

Feeling this way, and fear of being ridiculed by the other supernatural or being wiped out, we went to Mother Eve, wanting more, and she gave it to us. She warned us that this came with a price, and to get that type of power, we would have to share our soul with a Wolf guardian, also known as Mother Eve’s Guardians. On the eve of our fifth birthday, with no input from the Hunter, a Wolf spirit would come from the realm where Mother Eve resides, and choose the Hunter that they would reside in.

The Hunter would have the majority of control of their human body, and the Wolf would take a back seat. He could see everything we did and feel our emotions. When the Hunter transformed into a Wolf, the spirit Wolf occupying the Hunter body had the same control, and the human would take a back seat. It would be like that until the day the Hunter died. Then the Wolf spirt would return back to Mother Eve and once again become Mother Eve’s Guardian. Also, from that day moving forward, we would no longer be referred to as Hunters, but we would take the name of Werewolf.

“Yea, being a Werewolf is great,” I tell Aleron sarcastically.

“Let us also not forget the other skills you acquired, like a keen sense of smell, where you can scent everything, from pregnancy to sickness. In addition, you can see at night in human form, and you heal quickly in human form.” Yes, all of that too.

Usually, the spirit Wolf that chooses the Hunter remains with that Hunter, until they died. I was the exception to that rule. After my mom’s death, I was so angry, my Wolf then, Kalum, couldn’t get through to me. I was ignoring him, refusing to transform. It left Mother Eve with no other choice but to take Kalum away from me. I assumed then that I wouldn’t be a Werewolf again, but she had other plans. Instead, she sent me, Aleron. Whom I couldn’t ignore, whom I couldn’t refuse to transform into, whom I had to listen too. I even had to get stronger, to put up with him. We couldn’t stand each other at first but now look at us.

“We make such a great team,” I tell him again sarcastically. Aleron sighs.

“Oh stop, you needed me and I, you. Mother Eve makes no mistakes.” I roll my eyes. I swear, sometimes I despise him.

I turn my attention back to my mothers’ photo, her appearance darker than mine as well. She had beautiful brunette hair that she always wore in a high ponytail. Her round face, with her beautiful grey eyes, gave her a child-like appearance, when I knew she was anything but. As a child, I always wondered if she was my mom since I didn’t resemble her. The older I became, I realized, if I didn’t resemble her, I must resemble my birth father. She didn’t speak about him much, and no one would clue me in as to the why of that. When I got a little older, with the use of my own funds, I tried looking for my dad, and found nothing, zilch, almost as if he didn’t exist.

I push those feelings to the back burner and continue looking at photos. I pause, bringing the photo closer to my face when I notice what looks like Pint-size, but there’s two of her. They both have the same trademark hair, rose gold with black roots, but one of them, the slightly taller one by an inch, is pregnant. I notice my mother, has her hand on her belly while a young me is hiding in between my mom’s legs, gazing at the twin pregnant belly. My mom knew the Rosewoods, small world.

“How exactly did my mom know the Rosewoods?” I direct the question at Aleron, to which he sighs again.

“You know I’m not allowed to tell you that. You’ll have to figure this out on your own.” Since Aleron is or was Mother Eve’s guardian, he is privy to a lot of knowledge we residents of the Woodlands are not. He is never forthcoming with any of the information, always speaking about honor and code. He is so annoying.

A weird smell makes me turn my head, wondering who it’s coming from. I see Pint-size leaning in the corner, analyzing me. What happened to her lovely smell of spicy citrus? How long has she been here? I wonder as I quickly gather the contents of my mom’s personal items and place them back in the box, not wanting Pint-size to see them. I wait for her to approach me or try to peek at what I’m being so secretive about, but she doesn’t. Her respect, the way she’s giving me privacy, makes me hard.

“She is going to be such a great lay,” I tell Aleron.

“You are a sick man,” he replies. I take the time to give her a once over again. Her gingerbread skin is flawless, blemish-free, when the sun from my open windows shines on her, she appears bronze. Her hair is rose gold, with black roots and wild, tight big curls spiral in her face. I have to resist the urge to run my fingers through it. Her face is a cross between oval and round, making her appearance look young. Her nose tiny, like her height, which is a surprising five-foot-two, well, five-foot-four with the heels she wore, and those are sexy. Both her top and bottom lip are full. I can’t stop thinking about kissing them. She’s curvy, literally a brick house, although her breasts did seem small, but what she lacked up there, she made up for in ass. I never thought of myself as an ass man, but I couldn’t stop picturing myself palming her ass as I bent her over on top of my bed.

It never occurred to me her scent was anything more than an intriguing scent. Being a Werewolf, we knew that each person has a unique scent, humans included. When I first smelt her scent of spicy citrus, I just assumed it was just another new smell entering the Woodlands.

“Why do I find her scent so intoxicating?” I ask Aleron.

“Maybe, because you like her,” Aleron responds, teasingly. Not true, I just want to have sex with her. Besides, me liking a non-Werewolf, isn’t good. It’s not like I could mate with a non-Werewolf because Wolves only mated with Wolves.

“Wolves only mate with Wolves, right?”

“Would you admit to liking her if she was a Wolf?” Aleron ask me.

“I don’t have to worry about that, because she’s not, right?” He laughs, not answering me. “I wonder if it’s too late to ask for another guardian Wolf.” Aleron snorts.

I get up, intending to get closer to her. She holds up her hand, and I smile, pausing in mid-step. I know my eyebrow is raised as well.

“Stay, right there, Kayden,” she tells me.

Chapter Ten– Kayden

“She knows your name, someone was busy acquiring information about you,” Aleron says to which I smile in response.

“We don’t do well in close proximity to each other, and I can’t afford any distractions,” she finishes up.

“And yet, you came up here, to my room, by yourself.” I take a step closer to her. “Give me a hug, at least,” I joke while she shakes her head.

“I don’t think so.”

“In case you haven’t realized, she won’t be easy to bed, women like her are used to putting their passion on the back burner,” Aleron informs me. I hate to admit it, but he’s right. Women like her, who I’m assuming have been on the run her whole life, didn’t let their personal needs get in the way of whatever mission they were on or trying to accomplish. Usually, all I had to do was bat my eyes, and the woman would be naked in my bed within seconds.

“I look forward to seeing you court her,” Aleron whispers.

“I can hear you, you know.”

“I’m aware,” he replies.

“I suppose I’ll behave for now,” I tell Sage, done speaking with Aleron. “By the way, they know you’re here.” She gives me a ‘so what’ look. “Of course, I didn’t share any information with them. I think that warrants a tiny kiss, at least.”

She shakes her head ‘no’ again.

“Him being your stepfather, Cain, right?” I nod my head. She definitely did research me. I feel giddy knowing that. “Who’s a member of The Guild, which means the entire Guild knows as well.” I laugh. She runs her hand over her face, appearing stressed.

“Are you . . . ” I begin, but her face turns emotionless before she replaces it with a smile.

“If only you knew how to fake your emotions like that,” Aleron replies with laughter.

“Shut up,” I tell him.

She reaches inside her pocket and pulls out the charm that usually hangs on the front of the mansion pack door. It’s a colorful rock that Witches and Warlocks refer to as a gemstone, with iron wrapped around it, fastened into a necklace. “You’re being watched,” she tells me, changing the topic.

“No, it’s a charm to prevent unwelcomed guests from entering inside the mansion,” I tell her, walking closer to her, with the intention of grabbing the charm. I extend my arm, but she pulls it away from my grasp.

“It’s not, the spell you’re speaking about is referred to as a boundary spell, which requires the blood of the person or people living in the house mixed with sage and spoken with a simple but short incantation,” she informs me. Usually, when people tell me about traitorous behavior by another party, I didn’t take it at face value, because everyone has an agenda.

“Do you trust her word?” Aleron questions.

“Yes,” I do, I couldn’t explain it, I just do. Besides, she didn’t have time to be deceitful. She had other shit to worry about.

“So, what is that?” I ask, staring at the necklace.

“A peep spell, otherwise known as the one-way camera spell,” Pint-sized informs me. I feel my body get hot, and I know it’s Aleron, becoming angry, and rightfully so.

“Traitorous Witch, how dare she fool us,” he says.

“I scratched the stone. The Witch who did this will not be able to see what you’re doing for the time being,” Pint-size says while handing me the charm. “By the way, she’ll know it’s been damaged, meaning the Witch will eventually come and replace it.” I nod my head in understanding. “How will you handle it?”

“That’s pack business, Sage,” I tell her. Her eyes enlarge at the mention of her name. Yes, Sage, I know who you are as well.

“Could I be present during this little meeting?” I continue looking at the charm. Wait, did she ask to be present?

“Why do you want to be present during that?” I ask her.

“Yes, I’m interested in the why of that as well,” Aleron chimes in.

“Because her services are no longer needed, and I want her to know that,” Sage tells me.

“Services?” I question, knowing what she is referring to but wanting to see what other services she may be willing to offer.

“Yes, I’m a Witch, and I’m staying on your property, the least I can do is provide my services for . . .” she trails off, noticing the smirk on my face. She sighs, as she shakes her head, unsuccessfully trying to hide the blush that’s now present on her face “Wait . . . don’t you get the wrong idea.”

“Oh no, I understand perfectly.” I walk closer to her, to which she turns and heads to the door. “You’re on my land, which makes you my property. You are my Witch. I can do whatever I want with you.” She shakes her head as she reaches for the door. I pretend to move, to which she shrieks and opens the door, closing it behind her as I laugh at her hasty departure.

Chapter Eleven–Sage

As I make my way through town, my attention is not on the floor below me but the sky above me. My current action may be perceived as weird to the other supernaturals. But in actuality, I’m tracing both my mother’s dark purple and aunt’s bright pink aura, which resembles ribbons in the sky, intertwining and colliding with each other. Remember, as a Witch, I’m blessed with the ability to read auras, but to do so, the person has to be in front of me. Since both my mother and aunt weren’t around, I had to perform a ‘where have you been’ spell, using again, their hair. By the way, the books have yet to make an appearance, which is good news.

I know my G-ma would frown on me wandering through town, checking out the places they visited, but I couldn’t sit still, knowing that something might have happened to them. I would get to the bottom of their disappearance, and I would do it my way and deal with the consequences later. As I continue walking, I couldn’t help but analyze the other stores in the areas my mom and aunt visited. Apparently, they loved the bakery, the Elf weapon shop, and a precious stone store. Since both my Mom and Aunt Heaven’s aura were faint around these stores, I didn’t bother going into them. The fewer residents who knew about my presence here, the better.

I look to the teleportation machines that resemble telephone booths in the human world. The machines are used to take supernatural residents from one destination to another since everything in the Woodlands is hours away from everything else. We love our privacy. I take notice of my aunt’s aura, swirling around several teleportation booths. I snort at the irony. I remember her telling me not to trust those machines. As usual, she was telling me one thing but doing another.