Here’s how it works: each week, I’ll be building on a serial story based in the Hayle Universe. I’ll add a few lines, but where it goes from there is up to you! The most popular suggestion will dictate where the story goes from there…
You can find the first full segment HERE in case you missed it.
And now, onward!
Mom retreated to the basement to check on the family magic while Gram grumbled and mumbled her way down the hall, slamming her bedroom door behind her.
Way to just abandon me after announcing our coven was under attack from a neighboring family.
And the fact that family decided to pay us a visit.
Sassafras sashayed his way into the kitchen, silver tail twitching. I followed him, stomach still churning, Quaid close behind me.
“So who are they?” Mom had ignored any further questions after her little pronouncement, pulling her secretive coven leader routine. But Sassafras didn’t have the same restraint.
My demon cat hopped his fat butt onto the kitchen table and fixed me with his amber eyes.
“You’ve never met them,” he said. “They are—
Part Two:—the Millstons, and their leader, Petulance, has had it out for Miriam for years.”
Petulance? Witches had the weirdest naming traditions ever.
“So, Mom’s not going to just take this attack lying down, is she?” I fully expected a pack of Enforcers to arrive at any second with this Petulance witch’s head on a stick.
Sassafras shuddered, fur puffing out as his ears flattened out. “Your mother,” he snarled, “shielded the attack as soon as it happened.” He snorted, fire flaring in his gaze. “No evidence.”
She’d lost it. “But why?” I sat heavily in the chair beside him as Quaid came to stand next me, arms crossed over his chest. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just charge her and move on already?”
Mom emerged from the basement, face pinched in anger. “Because,” she said—
Part Three:—“what’s between Pestilence,” um, Mom, I think you said her name wrong, “and I is personal.” Her scowl reminded me of, well. Me. Wow. “And I’ll take care of it.”
“Mom,” I said, feeling panic rise at the thought of my normally calm, cool and collected coven leader losing her crap over some small-minded little feud. “Is that a good idea?” What, me? Preaching tolerance and patience? Holy, had our roles reversed all of a sudden. “Think of the safety of the coven.”
“I am,” Mom snapped. Literally, power crackling like she’d stuck her finger in a socket. “Eliminating that woman,” oh boy, “from my life,” not good, “and from this plane,” Mom was spiraling out completely, “should be considered a public service.”
Sassafras swatted the air in front of him, amber sparks mingling with Mom’s continual cascade of irritated magic. I’d never seen her act like this before. She was usually so composed, the calculating manipulator. What was it about Petulance Millston that made her crazy?
“Miriam,” Sassafras said. “Before you do something we’ll all regret—”
He didn’t get to finish—
Part Four:—not when someone crossed the wards and knocked on the kitchen door.
None of us moved. Mom froze as though she’d been dipped in dry ice. Sassafras’s head whipped around, eyes focused on the door, but made no indication he planned to answer.
As for me, I honestly didn’t know what to do around the sudden surge of adrenaline and pounding of my heart. What waited on the other side? Some hideous monster sent by the Millstons? A curse in human form just waiting for someone to open the door?
Or maybe whoever waited was harmless.
Yeah, because that was my life, right? All kinds of harmless went on, yup yup.
I was a little surprised when Quaid finally jerked out of his own stasis and strode across the kitchen, hand reaching for the knob—
Eep! Should Syd be worried? Only one way to find out who’s come knocking… join me next week 🙂 And don’t forget, this is your story! Make a suggestion where it should go from here. I’ll send a personalized post card to the person whose idea I choose 🙂
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