Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(69)

I was almost too late.

* * * * *

At Campbell’s Landing, I ran into the road, waving my arms and chanting the spell.

Cars screeched and honked and careened around me – drivers staring at me with angry faces or giving me the two-fingered salute.

I ignored them.

At the foot of Marine Parade, I leaned over, waving my wand against the asphalt like I was sprinkling carpet freshener in the middle of the street, in broad daylight, in a raspberry dress and I didn’t care who saw.

As I waved, I whispered,

Cars do not drive,

Bikes do not ride,

People do not hike,

Their journeys – hold,

Their wanderings – frustrate,

The future has been told,

A future I will not tolerate.

Allow the blast – that I cannot prevent,

Though I will not allow the damage that is meant.

This important spell I cast with a plea,

Calling, with love, to the strength of my tree,

As I will, SO MOTE IT BE!

Waves of undulating powdery silver magic dust flooded the street from my wand. I would have been pleased with the strength of the spell but I felt the tremor of terror go up my back.

Soon.

Soon.

Soon.

Damn, it was gonna happen soon.

Too much to do, too little time, too much area to cover, not enough magic.

I had to pick…

Ash or Aidan.

Aidan or Ash.

I had a mind-meld with one; I had to count on Mavis’s magic to keep Ash safe.

Aidan, unless I stopped it, was going to drive straight into hell.

All around me bikes were skidding, cars were screeching and people were lifted off the ground and gliding eerily away from the silver sparkles sliding out of my wand.

Soon, I’d have to take cover.

But first…

I turned, straightening and swept out my arm with the wand in my hand and slammed a laser line of hot pink with silver and electric blue sparks at the top of Marine Parade where it exploded in multi-pink-and-violet blast just as a blue BMW Roadster was about to make the turn onto Marine Parade.

The roadster skidded, slid and started doing spins then I quit looking because I had to get the hell out of Dodge.

I ran toward the railing entry to the footpath that led up the steep incline to Marine Hill. I zig-zagged around it and plunged into the woods.

Please, Ash, don’t come! Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come! I thought as cars skidded, bikes plunged and people continued to glide in their weird, bewitched dance to safety – all of it away from Marine Parade.

* * * * *

Then the bomb exploded.

* * * * *

Yes, a bomb.

* * * * *

The sound was immense.

The explosion knocked me off my feet, slamming me into a tree which I slid down and then rolled down the slope slamming into another tree.

Enormous chunks of stone, pavement and dirt flew everywhere – ripping through the canopy of trees that protected me.

Protected me, as in, not a single pebble hit me. Who says nature won’t take care of you if you take care of it?

Anyhoo.

People screamed.

Tires squealed.

Amongst it all, I heard the unmistakable noise of debris hitting metal.

“No!” I shouted.

A cloud of dust rolled out behind the explosion.

I pulled myself up and through the trees and I saw Ash’s Lush Jag already pummeled by falling debris.

Ack!

“Ash!” I yelled, running toward the car.

Since my eyes were streaming from trying to see through the dust cloud, I didn’t notice that he was already up the footpath where he caught me by the waist, swung me around and half carried, half dragged me through the dust cloud back to the dented Jag, threw me in, got in himself, reversed and we sped away.

* * * * *

It was no coincidence that the Roadster and the Lush Jag were headed toward Marine Parade at the same time, only seconds away from when a bomb was about explode.

Someone had arranged it, sent them there to die.

* * * * *

So now, I’m laying in Ash’s bed in my princess fortress.

Ash had given me ten minutes to pack a bag (not nice, I need thirty minutes just to sort out accessories, even in an extreme situation or maybe especially in an extreme situation), leave instructions to the coven for the protection and safety of Josie and Rory (easy, they knew what to do). Then Ash and I wheeled out of there in my Mini Cooper.

Ash, of course, driving.

He dropped me at his flat and ordered, “Do not open this door for anyone. Anyone!”

He actually raised his voice; it was very Daniel Day-Lewis to Madeline Stowe under the waterfall in The Last of the Mohicans. Could have been sexy but in the circumstances it totally freaked me out.

And then he took off.

I didn’t hear a word from Aidan even though I called him repeatedly on the way to London (a two hour trip that took Ash one hour and fifteen hair-raising minutes, this drive was not filled with conversation mostly because I was still flipping out and most of that time he was talking tersely on his phone which is against the law in England but I didn’t remind him of that fact at that juncture even if he was flipping me out further by driving like a maniac and talking tersely on his phone) and time-and-again from Ash’s flat.

Do not even ask me why Ash, Aidan and myself weren’t at The Gables which just happens to be protected by the extraordinarily potent spells cast by sixteen of the world’s most powerful witches.