Life's a Witch

Chapter Twenty-Six


As soon as people realized they weren’t actually the targets of my spell, and that Asher and Emory had been singled out instead, the reaction was immediate. People were confused, angry, frightened—all the emotions that came along with betrayal—and no one bothered to hide their feelings.

Except for me. Because this was the first time I’d ever been in this sort of situation. And I had no idea how to deal with it.

I’d always rolled my eyes when my friends said it, but at that moment I truly understood what they meant when they said they could feel their heart breaking. Because that’s what it felt like to see the stream of light hit Asher straight in the chest. It was a deep ache, unlike anything I’d felt before. When I’d lost my mom, the pain was more like despair, like the feeling that nothing would ever be right again. But the betrayal of someone you cared about romantically? If I didn’t know it was impossible for a heart to physically bust in half, I would have bet that’s what was happening then.

I’d never felt so incredibly let down in my entire life, not by anyone. A dozen different thoughts started racing through my head, each one worse than the last. How was this possible? Had our whole flirtation been a part of the Parrishables’ evil plans to overtake the Cleri? Would everyone hate me because I’d been the one to bring Asher into our coven? How had I been so stupid to fall for a stranger when I knew from the beginning that there was something sketchy about the way he kept turning up everywhere I went? And worst of all, what was I possibly going to do about the fact that the only boy I’d ever kind of loved was playing for Team Evil?

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, that’s what it had come to. I could no longer deny the fact that my feelings for this beautiful dark-haired boy, who had the most magnetic eyes I’d ever seen, had grown into something like love. Could I really turn my back on that? And if I could manage to ignore my feelings, how was I ever going to be able to trust another guy with my heart again?

Trust. It was such a small word that held so much power—and potential for pain. Asher had taken my trust and stomped all over it. So even if I did have certain feelings for him, he obviously didn’t feel the same about me. Otherwise he wouldn’t have conned me into thinking he cared about me when he’d just been planning to hand me over to the Parrishables.

That’s when it dawned on me: someone like that didn’t deserve my love or my forgiveness.

Asher was a traitor and there was no way of atoning for that. And I wasn’t about to let my feelings put my coven in danger any longer. I narrowed my eyes at him as I came to my decision.

Asher looked down at where the light was illuminating his body and then back up at me. He ignored the madness that had erupted around us and kept his gaze steadily on my face. Despite the yelling and arguing that filled the air, Asher just stood there, mouth slightly open as if he was stunned into silence. And maybe he was. It was the first time I’d ever performed that spell, and for all I knew, it’d knocked the wind out of him on impact.

For the first time since we’d met, he looked guilty. Gone was the cocky confidence and sexy smirk I’d come to associate with him. Now he looked more like a deer caught in headlights. I was tempted to let him know there was nowhere he could run to escape my wrath, but it was too loud around us with everyone asking questions and threatening Emory and Asher for me to respond. And truthfully, I didn’t trust my voice just yet.


Movement to my right diverted my attention just in time for me to see Jasmine and Peter grab hold of Emory. Right away she began to struggle, but they just held on tighter. I’d never seen Jasmine as angry as she looked now and I was thankful that I wasn’t in Emory’s position.

“Let me go!”

My head whipped around at the sound of Asher’s outburst. Fallon had followed Jasmine and Peter’s lead and he and a few of his buddies had surrounded Asher and were holding him in place. As I watched—drained by the spell and stunned by the results—they forced him off the porch and onto his knees. A fresh pang shot through my gut as I watched him struggle.

“Hadley! Hadley, look at me,” Asher pleaded, his eyes sincere. “You know me. I never wanted to do any of this, you have to believe me.”

“Actually, I don’t, Asher,” I said, the hurt coming out like hate. I turned to the rest of my coven members. The ones who hadn’t betrayed me. “Don’t let them go.”

I walked down the porch steps to where Emory and Asher were now kneeling side by side, both being held down tightly by the others. When I stopped in front of them, I refused to look at Asher. I was afraid that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to handle the emotions that would flood my soul. So I kept my attention on Emory.

But the girl in front of me now wasn’t the same person I’d come to feel close to over the past few weeks. Her calm, quiet, sensitive demeanor was gone. Sure, she was still dressed like she was on her way to church, but her face had transformed into something hard and ugly. Her lips had formed a perma-snarl and her eyes were so dark now that the whites were barely showing. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen the evil in her before.

“Why are you here and what do you want?” I asked her.

She gave me a smug smile but didn’t respond.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” I said, my patience depleted. “What the hell are you doing here and what do you want?” This time I put all my powers of persuasion behind the questions, calling on all my will to force her to answer me. Apparently, my strong emotions helped to make the spell more powerful, because Emory’s lips shook briefly as she fought against telling me what I wanted to know.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” she spat. “My leader sent me to gather information on the Cleri.”

“Why did Samuel send you? And why does he even care about us? We’re no threat to him!”

Emory snorted. “No threat? Are you kidding? Please tell me you’re kidding,” she said, shaking her head. “You want to know why Reverend Parris cares about you so much?”

“Yeah, I do,” I said, placing my hands on my hips.

“Because you’re the only one who matters.”

We all looked at each other, confused, wondering whether that had been Emory’s goal all along: to manipulate us into turning against each other so it would be easier to get to me. I still had no idea why I was so important to them, though. I was just a twitch, with really great hair and a natural talent for casting. Since when did that equal formidable foe? And if this was the case, then was I just putting everyone else back in danger by sticking around?

When I didn’t say anything right away, Emory got bored and grunted before continuing. “How could you be so incredibly clueless? I swear, it’s infuriating how talent is wasted on people like you,” she began to rant. “If I had even an ounce of the power you have—”

“You can communicate with the dead! How much more power do you need?” Jasmine asked incredulously.

“I don’t really see dead people, you daft twit,” Emory bit back. “It’s called lying. Look it up.” Jasmine looked like she was about to pummel her, but I gestured for her to stop. She settled back into her spot next to Emory, still breathing heavily with anger. I couldn’t have her knocking Emory out before I had a chance to find out what the Parrishables’ plan was. Emory went on.

“I thought if you believed I could talk to your dead parents, I might be able to get you to do what I wanted. And by telling each of you that there was a traitor in the group, I figured you’d lose trust in each other and self-destruct. But, apparently, you guys will trust anyone.” She glanced sideways at Asher, to which he began to shake his head emphatically. I ignored him.

“Why am I the only one who matters?” I asked.

I was still forcing Emory’s will, and based on experience, I knew that she’d continue to tell me things even if she didn’t necessarily want to. This particular power of mine was really coming in handy today, and I passed up a silent thank-you to my dad for having great witch genes. Emory might not spill all her secrets, but knowing even a little bit of the Parrishables’ plan would put us in better shape than we were in now. And even better was that I hadn’t divulged this part about myself yet. I’d been holding on to it like a secret weapon.

“Because you have power. Same reason we’ve hunted down your relatives. The magic that runs through your lineage rivals any other in the world. But you . . . you are the only one that Samuel has been able to find in all the world whose power rivals that of Bridget Bishop,” she said. “So why do you matter? Because he wants you, Hadley. Either you can join him on our quest for magical dominance or you can die. We know which one Bridget chose. Personally, I’d love for you to join her.”

“Why murder the others, then, if you only wanted me?” I asked, my voice a whisper. The last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of this hypocrite, but I could feel my emotions beginning to rage out of control.

“Samuel wanted them out of the way so it would be easier when we came for you,” she said, shrugging. “If the elders had known you were our target, they would have rallied around you, making everything so much more complicated and annoying. So, we took the army out first to get to its queen.” There was no remorse in her eyes. In fact, I’m sure she fully believed that the end justified the means. How could someone be so incredibly unfeeling? These were our parents they’d killed.

Our parents. Meaning, her parents should’ve been at the meeting in the warehouse too. How was she being so cavalier about this? “How could you do something like that to your own parents? Don’t you care about anyone other than yourself?”

“Samuel turned my parents rogue a long time ago,” she said, snickering. “They weren’t in the warehouse that night. They were standing with me, outside, watching it burn to the ground.”

This time I started to lunge for her myself, but Fallon was behind me in a second, pulling me back so I couldn’t scratch Emory’s eyes out.

“Let me go, Fallon!” I yelled, reaching for her. But he wouldn’t do it. He probably knew I could have killed her, which would definitely have started the war sooner than we intended. And deep down, we both knew I wasn’t a killer. I drew a controlled breath and forced myself to relax slightly under Fallon’s hands.

“Let. Me. Go,” I instructed Fallon, without taking my eyes off Emory.

It wasn’t my intention to use my powers of persuasion on him, but the words had barely come out of my mouth when Fallon loosened his grip. He stayed close, though, in case he needed to swoop back in. But by now I’d gotten my emotions under control. Not that I wasn’t still mad, but I wasn’t planning to strangle anyone to death anymore.


Taking a big step forward, I got so close to Emory that I could feel her breath on my face. Underneath the darkness of her eyes, I could see fear beginning to creep in. This would have made me smile if I hadn’t already been so upset.

“Don’t you dare talk about my family like that ever again. They were better witches than you’ll ever be, and the Parrishables will burn for what they did to them. But right now, while you’re still alive? You’re about to know pain unlike anything before,” I said deliberately. I moved another inch closer to Emory. Our noses were almost touching now, and I was officially invading her space. Oddly enough, I didn’t care if she was uncomfortable, because I was about to make her wish she’d never infiltrated my coven.

“You were right about one thing, though,” I said, this time my voice low and clear. I knew the others were straining to hear what I was saying, but this last bit was just for her. “I am more powerful than you could ever imagine, and you’ve gotten on my bad side. The Parrishables can come after me as often as they want. You may hurt me, you may slow me down, but you need to understand me when I say, I will win.”

I didn’t wait for a response. Emory’s pale face and dropped jaw were enough. I wasn’t playing games anymore. It was time for the Parrishables to know what they were up against.

I began to walk away, hoping to collect my thoughts and maybe start strategizing on how to defeat the Parrishables. I’d gone only a few steps before Asher stopped me.

“Hadley, wait! I’m not like her. I had nothing to do with what happened to your parents. I didn’t even want to do any of this. Hadley!” Asher tried to get to his feet, reaching out his hands like he might be able to keep me from leaving. The others pulled him back, refusing to let him get any nearer.

Emory took advantage of the scuffle to yank herself free of Peter’s and Jasmine’s grip, and she began to run toward the back fence and beyond it. To freedom.

“Grab her!” I screamed. A few of us shot spells her way, but we were still so shocked by the whole situation that none hit their mark. A few moments later, she was gone.

And part of me was happy about it.

“Hasta la pasta, biznatch,” Jasmine said, looking in the direction of where Emory had disappeared.

With her went our best chance at learning more about what the Parrishables had planned. But all wasn’t lost. We still had Asher. As hurt and angry as I was with him, I wasn’t about to let him get away without giving us every bit of information we wanted.

“Tie him up in the shed at the side of the house,” I told the guys who were once again holding Asher down. “Get him to tell us what the Parrishables have planned. And if he doesn’t—kill him.”

I didn’t really mean what I said, and there was no way the others were about to off another kid their age unless it was in extreme self-defense, but Asher didn’t have to know that. It would probably do the backstabber good to squirm a little anyway. Now he’d know what it felt like to be betrayed.

“What?” Asher asked, his eyes going wide. “Are you kidding me? Hadley, I’m not who you think I am. I’m—”

“Muflix sertikin,” I said, directing the words of the mumming spell right at my ex.

I was through listening to his lies.



As soon as Asher was secured in the shed, I gathered everyone up and held a meeting. Now that we were rid of our infiltrators, we could get back to training—doubling our efforts this time. With a few of the older kids watching Asher and trying to get answers out of him, Sascha, Jasmine, Peter, Fallon, and I began to pore over my family’s spell book. There was no way I was going to be able to learn the spells all on my own, and now that I knew who I could trust, I was ready to share the knowledge.

So, after teaching the rest of the group some basic hand-to-hand combat and defensive moves (blocking punches, kicks, and getting out of holds), I left them to practice, while the five of us read through and memorized as many of the spells as we could. If we were able to pull these spells off, it would give us the edge over the Parrishables, since these spells had been used by my family exclusively.

“Why are these spells so long?” Sascha whined.

We were all gathered up in my parents’ room, since it was the biggest in the house, and I could still look out the window and check on what the others were doing. Everyone had taken up different spots around the room to practice the spells that had been assigned to them. Sascha was lying on a chair in the corner, her head dangling off the front and her back in the seat. She had her legs resting against the back of the chair even though she was wearing a skirt, which was creeping up her thighs. I wasn’t the only one who noticed she was dangerously close to flashing everyone in the room. But if it was what helped her to retain the shielding spell she was currently learning, more power to her.

“I actually kind of like them,” Jasmine admitted. She’d taken over the bed as soon as we’d entered, falling back against the enormous pillows and making herself comfortable. Peter had somehow managed to park his butt on the corner of the mattress, far enough away so as not to violate Jasmine’s personal space. She didn’t seem to mind him being there, though. Then again, who would ever be able to kick Pete off the bed? It would be like making a puppy sleep on the floor. “It’s like we’re taking it back to old-school magic. Way cooler.”

“Your idea of cool is seriously messed up,” Sascha answered sarcastically, and then stuck out her tongue. “I just wish they’d get to the point already.”

“I actually think there’s something to it.” I was sitting on the window ledge, watching everyone below me practice, but turned back inside. “It’s like, the more specific the spells are, the more potent they are. It’s hard to describe, but when I did the spell earlier, I felt this surge of power unlike anything I’d ever felt before. It was like I was tapping in to something ancient.”

“Well, these are definitely old,” Fallon said with a snort as he flipped halfheartedly through the book. I flinched as he almost ripped one of its pages. I was still reeling from the fact that he wasn’t the one who’d sold the Cleri out, and even though I logically knew he wasn’t working for the Parrishables, I still didn’t fully trust him. Unfortunately, I didn’t really have a choice given the circumstances.

“I didn’t mean ancient like outdated. I meant like . . . magic that’s been built up over time. These spells are more intense than any we’ve ever been taught. If we’re going to have any chance at beating the Parrishables, this is it.”

“You. If you’re going to have any chance of beating them,” Fallon said quietly. “They’ve made it pretty clear that they’re not worried about the rest of us. The only person they think is a threat is you. We’re just casualties of their war.”

I understood what Fallon was feeling and I was surprised that he was only bringing this fact up now. There was no malice or jealousy in his words. Just acceptance of his fate. Only, I didn’t believe that what he said was completely true.

“I know it seems that way, Fallon, and if any of you want to get out before this thing gets really messy, I won’t hold it against you. But they’re wrong,” I said, looking at him now with a new set of eyes. “They think I’m powerful, and yeah, maybe I am. But I can’t do this on my own. I need you guys more than you know. It’s because of the coven that we’re all still alive.”


Fallon began to shake his head like he didn’t believe me, and the others looked a little doubtful themselves, so I pushed on.

“Why do you think Emory was trying so hard to split us apart? She knew that we’re stronger as a group and that the only way they could destroy me was to destroy all of us,” I said. “So maybe I am their target . . . but I have the ultimate weapons.”

Everyone was silent as they let what I said sink in. I could see them start to perk up, and when they turned back to what they were working on, I knew it was with a renewed energy.

“Freaking Emory,” Jasmine muttered. “I can’t believe she duped us all.”

“How could she sit in our witch lessons for years and then just decide to betray us one day?” Sascha asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure it does,” Fallon said.

We all looked over at him, surprised that he seemed to be defending her.

“How do you figure?” I asked.

“She’s evil,” he said, matter-of-fact. “You heard her. Emory and her family wanted power at any cost. The Parrishables offered her that and she took it. It’s actually not all that complicated when you think about it.”

“How can going against your own coven be uncomplicated?” Jasmine asked.

“Easy,” I said, getting what Fallon was trying to say. “When you don’t care about the people you’re screwing over, you can do just about anything without remorse.”

“Emory didn’t care about anyone but herself and what she could get by joining the Parrishables,” Fallon said. “We were just obstacles to be worked around.”

“I could kill her,” Jasmine said, her hands balling up into fists. “Speaking of, when are we planning to take these suckers out, anyway?”

That’s what I’d been asking myself since Emory had run off. Because she knew exactly where we were hiding, it was no longer a good hiding place. Which meant we didn’t have a lot of time before they came looking for us.

And I was through with being ambushed. The next time we went up against the Parrishables, we were going to be ready and it would be on our terms.

“Tomorrow,” I said. I was guesstimating how long it would take for Emory to make it back to Samuel and then for them to find the cabin. And though it was sooner than I’d have liked, we would be prepared. “The war starts tomorrow at dusk.”





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