Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(51)

(Advanced? Yay!!!!)

“Enough of this,” Ash interrupted tersely. “You weren’t there, Prunella, I was. We don’t know what Darling will try next. You never would have expected her to do what she’s already done. Admit it.”

Silence.

Ash kept talking. “If Darling tries something new, something worse, I can’t protect Mathilda against that. You know I can’t. Not if she doesn’t help. She’s already lucky to be alive. I won’t have her handicapped by you taking away her wand.”

Silence.

(I’m already lucky to be alive? Ack!)

“She’s carrying her wand,” Ash finished.

Silence again.

(Okay, so I knew I was already lucky to be alive, but for Ash to say it, out loud. He’s, like, James Bond and The Saint and Shaft all rolled into one, if he couldn’t protect me…)

More silence while everyone stared at everyone else.

Then…

“Fine,” the Crone gave in, but not good-naturedly. “Mathilda, if you’re fired upon, by magic or manmade evil, you are free to do whatever you need to do to keep yourself safe.”

“And my Spellbounds,” I pushed.

The Crone stared at me, impatience etched in her face.

“And whatever I need to do to keep my Spellbounds safe,” I repeated with added detail.

“And your Spellbounds,” she allowed.

“And Ash. Whatever I need to do to keep Ash safe.”

Ash rolled his eyes heavenward.

“Who’s Ash?” Myra whispered to the Lady.

“Sebastian can take care of himself,” Prunella said with exasperation.

“Oh,” whispered Myra.

“Okay. Well then, anyone else I care about,” I said.

“Listen, young woman, you’re lucky I relented on you and the Spellbounds,” the Crone snapped.

“The coven can take care of themselves, I know, but Lucy at the café is not a witch and if anyone tries to hurt her or anyone I care about…”

I was kinda thinking of Aidan but didn’t want to say it out loud.

“So be it!” shouted Prunella, crankier than ever. She turned to Gran. “Minerva, you can tell she’s from your line. Stubborn, too damn stubborn. All right! So be it! But no magic besides that.”

She looked at me as if daring me to say anything else.

“Thanks,” was all I said.

She glared at me some more and then nodded then looked from one of us to the other.

“Damn Honeycutts,” she grumbled. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Oh goddess, I hoped not.

(I wish people wouldn’t talk like that – too close for comfort.)

Then she finished, “I’ll be back.”

Great. I couldn’t wait.

And with that, they pushed off, making a path toward the moon.

Chapter Seven

The Month of May

May 1

I had an old boyfriend who played football (defensive end) who told me the best offense was a good defense.

I think that’s a bullshit way of making the boys who were never going to get any of the glory feel better.

This is what I think: If one side of the team sucks then both of them are going to suck because they’ll all be losers.

So, okay, I can handle the defensive.

But I’m feeling offensive.

* * * * *

Josie:

Not happy with me for magically locking her in the house.

Though, she’s kinda in the “all’s well that ends well” frame of mind.

We discussed Rory and he’s hanging in there but still a little freaked (okay, maybe a lot freaked – have woken up with him beside me doing his casket-training-pose every day for weeks now).

We’ve talked to Delia, one of our coven who’s been a midwife for donkey’s years and decided to get a counseling qualification in order to diversify. She’s going to have a couple of sessions with Rory, see if she can help.

* * * * *

Coven (Defense):

My magic is suspended so will have to gather the troops.

Luckily, I’ve got the Honeycutt Coven, so the troops are good troops.

I’ve asked them to put together some protection spells, amulets, etcetera to cover Rory, Josie, Rory’s school, the wood around The Gables and Poet’s Walk. I want to be able, at the flick of anyone’s wand, to see where either of them are. And, in any of those places, I want any kind of malicious magic to be extinguished the minute it’s born.

We consulted Josie and she’s cool with it. No one wants a repeat of last month.

The Gables are in an uproar. Protection spells of that strength that breadth and that distance… well, they require a lot of magic.

Octavia and Fay have set up a command post in the conservatory.

The kitchen’s a mess (and it stinks).

The greenhouse looks like a tornado has swept through it.

Paulina, Antonia and Rhiannon have commandeered my Tower Room (and my larder).

Lots of dancing in the moonlight and clandestine meetings around boiling caldrons under cover of darkness in various Wiccan hotspots around the village.

Defense covered.

* * * * *

Mavis, Gran, Mom Viv and Su (Offense):

It’s time to gather some intelligence.