Blood Magic (Blood Magic Series Book 1) Page 5

  I had picked up Cassie on the way to school, and her perky chatter had actually almost made me start to feel okay. We stopped at Jimmy’s, a small country store near my house, on the way to school, and picked up two cups of strong, black coffee—both of them for me. Because even with her endless prattling, I could barely hold my eyes open.

  Fast forward to American History with Mr. Wilson, and I was practically in a coma. I had made it through the whole day without falling asleep, but his voice combined with the boring subject matter was the perfect night, night pill, which is ironic, considering I dream about history all the time.

  I was sitting in a desk in the very last row, with Cassie on one side and Matt on the other. Cassie kept nudging me, but there was a twinkle in Matt’s brown eyes that told me if I fell asleep, he would probably draw on my face with a Sharpie. But I was so tired that I was almost willing to risk it.

  That was when the door opened and Mason Adams walked back into my life. Apparently he’s a senior this year too, as this whole class was comprised of nothing but seniors. He stopped just inside the door, his eyes automatically finding me and he smiled.

  I heard a sharp, indrawn breath from Cassie, and then she whispered, “OMG! Allie, that hot guy is totally checking you out.”

  “No, he isn’t. He’s just looking for a place to sit down.”

  “Then why’s he looking back here? All these seats are full.”

  She had a valid point, so I chose to just ignore her.

  “Class we have a new student joining us. This is Mason Adams, so let’s all make him feel welcome. We will have five minutes at the end of class for you all to get acquainted, but for right now, young man, please take your seat,” and the sound of his voice caused my eyes to roll back in my head once more.

  Mason took a seat near the front of the room, since those were basically the only seats left, and Mr. Wilson’s monotone voice began to drone on once more.

  “We will begin this school year by studying about colonial America. Can anyone tell me some of the ways these new settlers found food?

  I was instantly suspicious when Matt’s hand shot into the air.

  “Yes, Mr. Turner?”

  “Burger King, baby—home of the whopper!” This was followed by a lot of snickering around the room, and a very irritated Mr. Wilson.

  “Matthew Turner, surprisingly, I find myself less than amused! You will write a five page report, due in three days, on the various methods, used by the colonists, of obtaining provisions,” he said, smiling. “Now, would anyone who actually has a couple of working brain cells care to answer the question?”

  “Hunting.”

  “Farming.”

  “Fishing.”

  There were always two or three kids who knew everything and talked over each other to be the first to answer. But me, all I wanted was to take a nap. So, as he turned his back and began to write on the white board, I laid my head on my desk and closed my eyes . . .

  Joshua had promised that he would make everything right, that no matter what it took, we would be together, but I could not have imagined the pain and humiliation he would have to endure to keep his promise to me.

  It had taken a full two weeks of begging to get Reverend Parris to even acknowledge his presence. He had then been forced to publicly repent of his sins and beg for forgiveness before the entire church. But the reverend insisted, now that Joshua had realized the wrong he had done, he must prove his sorrow and contrition to God and the elders of the church.

  The only way to prove his sincerity was through suffering, because only the most devout of individuals would be willing to endure such torment for their God.

  His first punishment was to be placed in the heavy wooden stocks that would hold his wrists and ankles. He was left there in the middle of town for three days and nights; when he was released he was so weak that he could not stand. His father had had to carry him home to their small two-story house—just down the road from mine.

  When he was recovered, he was driven to neighboring towns in a small wooden cart, and forced to list his many sins. He suffered days of being yelled at and having rotten food thrown at him.

  His final test was to be publicly whipped, again. I cried and pleaded with him to stop this madness, that nothing was worth what he was going through, but he stubbornly refused, saying that he could endure anything if I was waiting for him at the end of it all.

  Mercifully, he only received twenty lashes this time. Reverend Parris said that he was well on his way to redemption, but now he must show his love for his fellow puritans by helping those afflicted by witchcraft. For the period of one month, he would selflessly help those who could not help themselves.

  So, from daylight till dark, he spent almost every day in the service of others. He helped in the slaughtering of pigs and cows. He helped to hunt for wild game like turkeys, deer, and rabbits. Fishing and blacksmithing were on his list of chores as well. He was also a very skilled carpenter and helped others make repairs to their homes. There were a few times that he even had to empty other people’s chamber pots!

  At the end of this torturous chapter of our lives, Mason was readmitted to the church, and I was over the moon. I crept down the stairs as quietly as possible, gingerly opened and closed the door, and started to run towards the woods. The sound of my mother’s voice brought me up short, and I barely managed to clamp my hand over my mouth and stifle a scream.

  “Where art thou going in the middle of the night, Anna?”

  “Mama… I—”

  “Please do not lie to me, child. I have seen the way you look at that boy, and he is always looking right back at you,” she said, sounding very sad.

  “Mama, please, please, do not say that I must stay away from him—I cannot!”

  “I know that, Anna, but I’m so afraid for you. I see nothing but misery in thy future,” she whispered urgently, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Mama! You must not say such things! More and more people are accused of witchcraft everyday,” I said, my voice trembling at the thought of Mama being cried out against.

  My Mama had been having visions of things to come since she was a little girl. Her mother had forbidden her to speak of it, and the only other person she had ever told was me. Almost everything she saw usually came to pass. That is why a sick ball of dread began to form in the pit of my stomach.

  “Mama, what did you see?”

  Her eyes, so like my own, filled with pity and misery, and she began to shake her head violently from side to side, her brown hair flying wildly around her pretty, tear-streaked face. “I cannot tell thee such things. All I can do is pray to God that they do not come to pass. They cannot! They cannot! They cannot! They—”

  “Mama! Stop this at once!” I said, giving her a gentle shake.

  “I will not try to stop thee from seeing this boy, but you cannot reveal your love for him to anyone—anyone at all! Do you understand me, Annabelle?”

  “Why, Mama? Tell me why!”

  She shook her head sadly and said, “Just promise me, Anna. Please promise me that you will do as I ask. Promise me, my sweet girl,” she said, caressing my cheek with her hand.

  “I promise, Mama. I will keep him hidden in my heart until thou says differently.”

  My Mama, Mary Scott, did not utter another word after this. She simply nodded and kissed me on the cheek before going back into the house, and quietly closing the door behind her.

  I only hesitated for a moment after she went inside, before running to our usual spot, knowing that simply seeing his face and feeling his arms around me could cure a world of hurt.

  I would not tell him what Mama had told me tonight. He would be truly happy for the first time in a long while, and I could not bear to destroy that happiness. He had suffered through countless agonies these past two months—in order to be reaccepted to the church—so that we might be married. I could not tell him—just now—that it had all been for nothing; I loved him too much. I wondered i
f Mama’s vision would change; they often did, and I was praying that would be the case this time, so I would never have to tell him.

  When I saw him standing beneath the pines, his face bathed in moonlight, my heart swelled to three times its normal size. Before him, I hadn’t known it was possible to love this much. He was everything, and there was absolutely nothing without him. Our courtship had begun in January, and it was now the middle of June, not very long, but to me it was a lifetime.

  I just stood there and watched him for a few moments, waiting for him to turn and notice me—knowing that I would see the fierce desire and love I felt for him reflected back at me in his beautiful eyes.

  Then he turned to me and smiled, holding out his arms, and I rushed to fill them. He immediately buried his hands in my hair and kissed me with more urgency than ever before. When he finally stopped and looked down at me, all I could do was stare, and hope that soon, I would spend every night of the rest of my life held tightly in his arms.

  “Annabelle, I want to make you my wife as soon as possible. I can no longer bear being apart from you. The time we have together is so fleeting. It is no longer enough,” he said, and I was surprised that the hot look in his eyes did not burn me.

  “It has never been enough,” I said, as I slid my hands under his shirt to feel his heated flesh.

  “Annabelle,” he said, my name sounding like a plea as it crossed his lips, then he closed his eyes and said, “What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m giving you enough,” I said, as I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his chest.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, sounding almost afraid of my answer.

  I simply nodded my head as a seductive smile played upon my lips. And that was all it took. His hands were instantly upon me, tracing over my body as if he were afraid it was for the last time. His lips trailed down my neck, and then he pushed my nightdress down to reveal my shoulder, and I felt the scrape of his teeth along my skin. The sensations flooding through my body must have made me bolder, because I could not believe what I did next. Suddenly, I pushed him backwards away from me, and he looked confused, until I smiled and lifted my nightdress over my head, leaving it on the ground, pooled at my feet.

  His eyes traveled the length of my body, scorching everywhere they touched. Then he reached out and pulled me roughly against him, our bodies melded together like one. His hands fisted in my long hair, pulling my head back so he could ravage my mouth once again.

  He abruptly let me go, and I gasped as I stumbled backwards, then with a smile on his face he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the ground. And he advanced towards me once more, picking me up and gently lowering me to the soft bed of grass below. As he stood once more, he removed his breeches to add to our growing pile of clothing, and when he returned to me the only thing between us was skin.

  “I love you, Anna,” he whispered, as he kissed my forehead.

  “I love you too, Joshua. I always will,” I told him, caressing his cheek.

  Then we were in each other’s arms again, and the time for words was over. His lips and hands blazed a path no one else had ever taken. My skin tingled where he touched, and my heart was trying to jump out of my throat. The moment was so perfect that mere words could not express it, and when it was shattered there was nothing that could repair it.

  I had been so caught up in Joshua that my mother’s warning had completely been forgotten. When I was with him the rest of the world just sort of slipped away and was forgotten, but it had not forgotten us.

  I heard a twig snap, just as Prudence Parker stepped out from behind a cluster of trees. Her angry, jealous eyes could have incinerated me on the spot. Joshua had helped her family a great deal this past month, and he had told me that she had grown quite attached to him. He had never encouraged her, but it was clear by the look in her violet eyes, that it did not matter. In her mind, he belonged to her, not me. Her blonde hair was filled with twigs and leaves, her chest heaving from deep breathing, and she was visibly shaking. Her whole body seemed to vibrate with anger, and the worst part of this was—she was one of the supposedly afflicted girls.

  So, it was really no surprise when she said, “You are the devil’s whore! You have used your evil powers to seduce this man, and you will pay!”

  Chapter Five

  Mason

  “No, I’m not a whore,” I screamed at the top of my lungs, just before I fell out of my chair and onto the floor.

  The classroom erupted with howls of laughter all around me, and I almost wanted to be back in Salem. My face was as bright red as my car, and I wished I could just magically poof and be anywhere else right now.

  As I got to my feet, I noticed one person who was definitely not laughing. Mason was staring at me so hard; I was convinced he was trying to read my mind. It kinda freaked me out.

  “We are all very glad to hear that, Ms. Chamberlain. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, please take your seat.

  I nodded my head, saying nothing, as I sat, scooting as far down in my chair as I could get. I was feeling a million emotions at the same time. For a moment, through Annabelle, I had felt what it must be like to have a mother who loved me. I felt horror over how Joshua had been treated by the townspeople, and I felt a love so strong that it almost robbed me of breath. My body was still humming with unfamiliar sensations, and my eyes kept darting in Mason’s direction, since the guy I’d just seen naked looked exactly like him. Then, on top of all that, there was the shock of being discovered by a jealous, vindictive Loony Toon! Not to mention, that I’d just made a fool out of myself in front of the entire class. It was all just too much!

  When class was finally over, Mason was instantly surrounded by girls, and Cassie and Matt turned their full attention towards me.

  “What happened, Allie? Was it one of those dreams again?” she asked, her eyes full of concern.

  “What dreams?” Matt asked, instantly suspicious. He hated being out of the loop.

  I shot Cassie a look.

  “Sorry! He would have found out eventually anyway,” she said, defensively.

  “Did you ever consider that maybe I’d like to keep the number of people who think I’m coo coo for coco puffs to a bare minimum?” I asked her.

  “I think you blew any chances of that when you started screaming about not being a whore,” Matt said with a grin.

  “You guys are just so helpful! Thanks so much!” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Hey, at least you didn’t get a five page penalty,” he complained.

  “True, but you were being an idiot on purpose! In my case, it was an accident!”

  “Just shut up, both of you, and tell me what you dreamed!” Cassie demanded, stomping her foot.

  “I will,” I assured her, “Just not right now,” I said, gesturing to Mason who was making his way toward us.

  I introduced them to each other, and we all walked out to the parking lot together after school. I offered to give Mason a ride, since his parents dropped him off and he didn’t have a car. And Cassie immediately volunteered to get a ride home with Matt, mouthing the words “call me” as she walked away.

  I walked toward my car, pressed the unlock button, and was just about to get in; when I noticed that Mason had stopped in his tracks.

  “Is this your car?” he asked, skeptically.

  “Yep,” I said, proudly, “This is my baby, Charlie. Charlie meet Mason. Mason meet Charlie,” I said, grinning like a fool.

  “You named a 2014 Shelby Mustang Convertible GT500 in candy red, Charlie?” he asked, looking at me like I was crazy.

  “I happen to like the name, Charlie,” I told him, “Charlie Evans got the promotion for Chief of Staff over my father at about the same time I got the car; so it seemed like a no-brainer. My dad hates it!” I said, gleefully.

  “Well, when you explain it like that it makes perfect sense,” he replied, deadpan.

  “It does, doesn’t it?” I responded.

  But he was no lon
ger listening to me. He was walking around the car running his hands lovingly along the paint. He traced the white racing stripes with his fingers and squatted at the front to look at the cobra emblem on the grill. Next, he opened the door to look at the bucket seats, also with racing stripes, and he let out a low whistle.

  “Can I look under the hood?” he asked, hopefully.

  “Charlie really doesn’t like for strangers to look at his private parts,” I said, with my lips twitching.

  “I’ll be very gentle,” he said, seriously.

  I rolled my eyes, but I did let him pop Charlie’s hood and have a peek underneath.

  He groaned before saying, “A supercharged V8 engine and 6 speed manual transmission. Nineteen inch forged-aluminum wheels in the front and twenty inch in the back. And he’ll probably do at least two hundred. This is a frickin’ awesome car, Allie!” he said in amazement.

  “Yeah, I guess so. All I care about is that he’s shiny, red, and fast,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

  “It is one of life’s great tragedies that his magnificence is lost on you,” he said, shaking his head at me.

  “I’ve heard that before,” I told him, “Now, if you’re done feeling up my car, would you like to stop and get a burger somewhere?”

  “Sure,” he said, walking around and opening the door for me to get in, “Lead the way.” Then he walked back around to the passenger’s side and got in beside me.

  I drove down the road from school about a mile and a half and pulled into Billy’s Burger Barn. It was a small brick building with wooden floors. And there were several booths and tables with red and white checked tablecloths covering their scarred surfaces. The walls were covered with pictures of the regular customers. There were also several deer heads and fish mounted on the walls.

  I didn’t really need to look at the menu; I knew it by heart, but it did serve a purpose. While he looked at his own menu, I was peeking over the top of mine, trying to decide if Mason would look the same way naked as his dream twin did. But apparently I was not subtle enough.