Witch Risen: A Paranormal Adventure (Bad Tom Series Book 2) by Jill Nojack Page B
Book: Witch Risen: A Paranormal Adventure (Bad Tom Series Book 2) by Jill Nojack
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Authors: Jill Nojack
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passes under a shelf, briefly illuminating a dust bunny made primarily of Tom's fur. False positive. It will move on.
But it doesn't. The light extinguishes. The spell fades.
Tom is gone?
An involuntary gasp takes me. It can't be true.
All those years I kept him alive, putting up with his disobedience, and he's gone now that I need him?
No. No, he was just outside the shop a few days ago. The pigeon snagged a piece of him. He must have finally discovered a way to hide from me.
If he isn't dead, when I find him, he's really going to wish that he was.
***
The night air is warm. Such a shame we'll be wearing robes instead of prancing around in our skins. I'd dearly love to show off my new one, get the warlocks—and the witches who are inclined that way—worked up for no good reason. Sadly, even in the sixties, the Giles coven didn't indulge in the "free love" revolution during ritual. Too many married members, and the high priestess before me was an awful prude.
These east coast witches be damned. They've always been far too prim and proper. The French had an easier way about them. That's what attracted me to them in the first place. That and the little slip of a French girl finding my Ab Khr after it languished in a seaman's trunk in the attic for too many years. I enjoyed that skin and the skins of her female descendants for generations until I hitched a ride to the states with Eunice.
Tripping along lightly as I imagine Cassie might do in this situation, I approach Robert where he's standing with his SUV door open, donning his robe. On his left hand, he wears the ring that denotes his role of leadership. I don't have mine, but I'll get it back soon enough.
I wonder who's wearing it, although I really shouldn't. I'm sure it will be Gillian. I forgot to check her fingers when she was in the shop. How fun to take it back from her. All the time she'll be thinking she's given it to someone nice who'll lead the coven in the right direction. I hold back a laugh. I dare say it might sound just a shade maniacal if I let it free here in the dark.
"Good evening, Robert. Where's that son of yours?"
"Too many other things to do. It's hard to keep the young people interested these days."
I can't imagine Kevin losing interest in taking his father's place when Daddy's gone. After all, he poisoned me for not moving swiftly enough to help him take it. I make a mental note to find out what Kevin's really up to. And then I'll decide how I can best use it to my advantage.
But for now, I play along. "You know that I 'm happy to be here! I just wish Granny had told me about it a long time ago." I wonder if I got the gosh-gee-willikers tone right.
"Yes, I wish she had, too. You could have grown up in the choir instead of being on your own with your talents for so long." He ties his robe loosely around his waist and shuts the car door, offering me his arm in escort. Even in private, he was always a gentleman. I doubt age has changed him that much. Even if he hadn't been a gentleman in the sack, I'd still save this new body for Ba'al, as difficult as it's turning out to be. It responds to everything male. But there shouldn't be much time left to wait. My husband and I will be like virgins again in our new bodies. I'll hold on to my fleshly explorations until then—or, at least until Tom returns. I take the arm I'm offered, and we walk toward the clearing, the other witches falling into a loose group around us.
It suddenly occurs to me that "Cassie" is the only younger person in attendance. Ah well, it's an elderly group these days. Kevin is younger by this coven's standards, but even he is in his late thirties.
Perhaps I can change that now that I have something soft and juicy to offer the potential warlocks in town. And, of course, eligible warlocks draw the young women. The possibilities are rather exciting. And when Ba'al returns in Tom's succulent flesh….
Oh my, I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm really not used to the
But it doesn't. The light extinguishes. The spell fades.
Tom is gone?
An involuntary gasp takes me. It can't be true.
All those years I kept him alive, putting up with his disobedience, and he's gone now that I need him?
No. No, he was just outside the shop a few days ago. The pigeon snagged a piece of him. He must have finally discovered a way to hide from me.
If he isn't dead, when I find him, he's really going to wish that he was.
***
The night air is warm. Such a shame we'll be wearing robes instead of prancing around in our skins. I'd dearly love to show off my new one, get the warlocks—and the witches who are inclined that way—worked up for no good reason. Sadly, even in the sixties, the Giles coven didn't indulge in the "free love" revolution during ritual. Too many married members, and the high priestess before me was an awful prude.
These east coast witches be damned. They've always been far too prim and proper. The French had an easier way about them. That's what attracted me to them in the first place. That and the little slip of a French girl finding my Ab Khr after it languished in a seaman's trunk in the attic for too many years. I enjoyed that skin and the skins of her female descendants for generations until I hitched a ride to the states with Eunice.
Tripping along lightly as I imagine Cassie might do in this situation, I approach Robert where he's standing with his SUV door open, donning his robe. On his left hand, he wears the ring that denotes his role of leadership. I don't have mine, but I'll get it back soon enough.
I wonder who's wearing it, although I really shouldn't. I'm sure it will be Gillian. I forgot to check her fingers when she was in the shop. How fun to take it back from her. All the time she'll be thinking she's given it to someone nice who'll lead the coven in the right direction. I hold back a laugh. I dare say it might sound just a shade maniacal if I let it free here in the dark.
"Good evening, Robert. Where's that son of yours?"
"Too many other things to do. It's hard to keep the young people interested these days."
I can't imagine Kevin losing interest in taking his father's place when Daddy's gone. After all, he poisoned me for not moving swiftly enough to help him take it. I make a mental note to find out what Kevin's really up to. And then I'll decide how I can best use it to my advantage.
But for now, I play along. "You know that I 'm happy to be here! I just wish Granny had told me about it a long time ago." I wonder if I got the gosh-gee-willikers tone right.
"Yes, I wish she had, too. You could have grown up in the choir instead of being on your own with your talents for so long." He ties his robe loosely around his waist and shuts the car door, offering me his arm in escort. Even in private, he was always a gentleman. I doubt age has changed him that much. Even if he hadn't been a gentleman in the sack, I'd still save this new body for Ba'al, as difficult as it's turning out to be. It responds to everything male. But there shouldn't be much time left to wait. My husband and I will be like virgins again in our new bodies. I'll hold on to my fleshly explorations until then—or, at least until Tom returns. I take the arm I'm offered, and we walk toward the clearing, the other witches falling into a loose group around us.
It suddenly occurs to me that "Cassie" is the only younger person in attendance. Ah well, it's an elderly group these days. Kevin is younger by this coven's standards, but even he is in his late thirties.
Perhaps I can change that now that I have something soft and juicy to offer the potential warlocks in town. And, of course, eligible warlocks draw the young women. The possibilities are rather exciting. And when Ba'al returns in Tom's succulent flesh….
Oh my, I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm really not used to the
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