Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(110)

We’d jumped into the car, amid dressed and pajama’ed townies staring up at the noise and mayhem of the enormous pink lollipop of The Tor. Staring at what they probably thought was a “silly” and annoying Druid ritual or an amateur (but spectacular) fireworks display.

Things such as this were what humans thought, for centuries, to protect their fragile psyches from the likes of the evil and beauty that were just then pouring down from The Tor.

But deep in their bones, they knew.

And although they watched, they made no move to go up, to intervene, to understand.

Their time would come.

* * * * *

“You’re gonna be okay,” I said to Ash as Aidan pulled to a jarring stop outside a hospital.

Ash opened his mouth to speak.

“If you say you’re honored to die for me, I’m gonna hurt you,” I told him.

He closed his mouth and grinned.

Then I watched as the light went out of his eyes.

* * * * *

Pain shot through me, excruciating and sharp. Fire burned a searing path from my chest to my throat and my eyes instantly filled with tears.

There would be no beautiful sparkles and flashes from his human death.

Just that extinguished light noting the passing of a magnificent man.

I closed my eyes, the wetness there slid down my cheeks as I bent forward, kissed his forehead and whispered, “I love you, Sebastian.”

Aidan yanked the door open (woefully, hideously too late) and BecBec zoomed into the car and halted in a glittery dazzle, tears falling from her eyes. I tore my gaze away from Ash and watched as the gossamer from BecBec’s wings detached, it’s ethereal beauty filling the interior of the car, shrouding us, Ash and me, in its glittery light.

She opened her mouth and I watched, silent tears sliding down my cheeks and I understood, for the first time, the exquisite Elfin words as she sang the timeless Lament of the Elf.

Chapter Fourteen

The Month of November

15 November

Baker Historic District

Denver, Colorado

A.K.A. Mathilda’s Version of Heaven and Hell

* * * * *

Su found a huge, six bedroom Victorian mansion built during Denver’s silver boom.

It was built on a rise so it had, from its top story, a view over the other houses to the famous purple mountains majesty.

It had a circular turret that rose two stories further than the rest of the house on the front western corner.

It had a massive, high, wrought iron fence surrounding the property.

The veranda floor was tiled in Italian marble.

There was a two bedroom carriage house on the side and a one bedroom mother-in-law house at the back.

It had a ballroom.

It was painted butter yellow with turquoise, pink and grape accents.

It was fan-f*cking-tastic.

It was my childhood home.

* * * * *

Su’s coven was night and day to the Honeycutt Coven.

Everyone was under fifty and nearly everyone was a hippy or Earth Mother.

And all of them dressed very well, for hippies and Earth Mothers, that is.

* * * * *

Lucy and Fay were due to arrive in a couple of weeks.

Before she left England, Lucy had to train Antonia, Nerissa, Pandora, Octavia, etcetera in her and my recipes, how to run The Dozen and how to treat Big Red with respect.

* * * * *

Mavis was on the hunt for Endora, who got away from what is now known as the Battle of The Tor.

Which, by the way, the Modernists won, forcing the Traditionalists to retreat. We also now control The Tor, which was a damn good thing, strategically, thank the goddess.

Yee ha!

* * * * *

Gran was on the hunt for Agatha, who also got away.

* * * * *

Scary Faerie and Bligh were both reported missing.

I can’t imagine Bligh survived but Scary Faerie was immortal.

Immortal and pissed off, no doubt.

Not good.

* * * * *

The “Real” World couldn’t even ignore what happened on The Tor.

Of course, most folks can’t see magic. Though, magic has been around a long time. There are lots of bloodlines, “normal folk” that have a latent magical history, a great, great grandma who was a witch, a great, great, great granddad who was a sorcerer, that kind of thing. Those are normally the folk who “see things” (and don’t believe their own eyes) and when they talk about those things, most people think they’re crazy (they’re not).

Then there are those with open minds, the ones who believe in magic and celebrate (and protect) the earth. They can see magic too (though it doesn’t happen often).

But that night, the magical flow tore through the veil. Even those without latent magical blood or those who don’t even believe in magic saw something.

Lots of discussion and suggestion worldwide about the “phenomena” witnessed by dozens on Hallowe’en night.

“Experts” came forward.

Some of them knew what they were talking about.

Others did not.

One “scholar” was (somewhat hilariously) ripped to shreds by Jeremy Paxman on News Night.

Churches issued statements.

Crazies took credit.

After a few days, most dismissed it.

But if you were even a little in touch with nature, you could feel it.

That night, the veil was torn away between the real and magical worlds.