Spells and Sorcery
Spells and Sorcery
S. Usher Evans
Line Editing by Danielle Fine
Copyright © 2016 Sun's Golden Ray Publishing
ASIN: B01HYZ3MOE
Kindle Version
Contents
The Lexie Carrigan Chronicles
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Free Anxiety Dragon Book
Also by S. Usher Evans
Acknowledgments
About the Author
The Lexie Carrigan Chronicles
Spells and Sorcery
Magic and Mayhem
Dawn and Devilry
Illusion and Indemnity
Available in eBook, Audiobook, Paperback, and Hardcover
To Jo,
For creating the world
Where I learned my magic
1
You have magic.
One sentence, three words, four syllables. Enough to change my life forever.
(And I'm not talking about the whole spells and sorcery thing.)
The day before my fifteenth birthday was so painfully normal, I probably wouldn't have noticed even if something were amiss. My kindergarten teacher used to say I was a little old woman in a little kid's body. Ten years later, I was still more Golden Girl than Party Girl. Between the Advanced Placement, dual enrollment, and honors courses jam-packed into my schedule, it was enough just to get through each day without adding more complications.
"The northeastern colonies were settled less out of economic necessity and trade, and more for those seeking religious freedom. But as the population grew, more secular colonists began to settle amongst them, increasing the rift between the two communities. It should come to no surprise the majority of those accused during the Salem Witch Trials were the more wealthy, secular colonists."
I jotted down a note about the cause and effect. Mills had mentioned there would be an essay test soon, and I wanted to be ready. Plus, being the uber-nerd I was, I actually liked seeing the narrative unfold as each event directly impacted another. It was one of the reasons history was my favorite subject.
Mills was one of those guys who'd been teaching the same subject the same way for thirty years, and enjoyed every day of it. Unlike the rest of the school, which had moved on to whiteboards and overhead projectors, Mills hand wrote a section of his bulleted history of the United States every morning on the chalkboard, which stretched over three of the classroom walls.
"Many of the women accused of being witches were actually widows of means, meaning they had more economic power than the men." Mills paused to chuckle. "But most of the hysteria ended when someone accused the Massachusetts governor's wife of being a witch."
I snorted, and glanced around to see if anyone else was laughing, but they all wore the same glazed-over expressions. As usual, I was the only one paying attention in our last-period history class. Our schedule rotated each day so as to give a different class the post-lunch doldrums. To boot, it was Monday, so the attentiveness was already in the toilet.
Mills must've caught my snort, or he knew I was the only one actually awake, because he asked, "Lexie, can you explain about how the end of Puritanism resulted in the Salem Witch Trials?"
I looked down at my notes and flipped back a page to read what I'd written down. "Because of the rise of trade, and the shift of power from religious leaders to the merchant class, it created a power vacuum. The witch trials were a backlash of the change toward more secular holdings of power."
He praised me and I kept a smile to myself as he moved on, quizzing another student who was much less prepared than I was. But that student was saved from answering any more questions, as the bell rang. Groaning and rubbing their faces, my classmates woke from their stupor and began talking about their plans for the afternoon—jobs, sports, and whether the nearby Gulf of Mexico would be tame enough for some stand-up paddle boarding.
My little high school fit the Florida beach town I'd grown up in. I'd known most of those in the sophomore class since kindergarten, though I wouldn't call any of them my good friends and we didn't really hang out. Then again, most of the school was nose-deep in trying to survive honors and college-level classes, while maintaining jobs, volunteer hours, and extracurricular activities in the hopes we could all get big fat scholarships at the colleges of our dreams.
I stopped at my locker to grab my things, and crouched down to the bottom level to work the lock. In the eight weeks we'd already been in school, I still hadn't figured out how to get it open on the first try.
"C'mon you…son of a…" I mumbled, swirling the lock around. I'd nearly gotten it when someone bumped into my hand with their foot, knocking the dial out of alignment.
I glared at the offending leg. Callista was one of those girls who exuded confidence. Smart, athletic, and usually always with friends, or her boyfriend, Joel. He was in some of my advanced classes, and he was on the football team in the fall, the soccer team in the winter, and the baseball team in the spring. They were all right, except that when they started making kissy-faces at each other, they forgot that other people needed to get into their lockers.
"Can you please…?" I asked, shoving their feet as they bumped into me again.
I saw the eye roll from Callista and ignored it. I didn't have time to get into it with her. With a grunt, I pulled on my too-heavy backpack and hurried out the front doors of the school into the sweltering fall afternoon. My sister wasn't above leaving me if she got to her car before I did. But I spotted Marie's cherry red convertible and breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn't have to walk home.
I had no earthly idea how Marie convinced our aunt to buy her something so absurd and unnecessary, especially since Marie and Jeanie fought like cats and dogs. Then again, Marie was so used to getting her way, I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd flashed her smile to a car salesman and he'd handed over the keys.
I didn't have to wait long before Marie walked out the front doors of the school, her best friend Charity by her side. Blonde, flawless skin, long tanned legs thanks to the nearby beach, together, they were a picture of teenaged beauty. But, I frowned, if Marie was giving Charity a ride, we'd spend an extra half an hour at Charity's house so Marie could flirt with Charity's brother. And that meant me stuck in the car until Marie decided to drive me home.
I tried not to look too upset when they approached the car. That would only give Marie cannon fodder.
"And I swear, I don't remember anything about his mother," Marie said. "Do you?"
"Was she even in the play?" Charity asked. "God, Shakespeare is so boring."
"Right?" Marie gave me a once-over but said nothing to acknowledge my presence. That, at least, was preferable. I climbed into the backseat and pulled out my copy of To Kill a Mockingbird to start reading the assigned chapters, more to drown out their conversation than to get a head start on homework.
Our little town was small, so it only took Marie five minutes to reach our neighborhood, and another minute to swerve through it until we reached Charity's house.
When Charity left the car
, Marie finally turned around and said, "Walk home."
I glowered at her. "Marie, that's not fair."
"I'm sorry, I don't care."
Growling and muttering about how I was going to tell Jeanie about this, I stuffed my book back into my backpack and scooted out of the backseat, slamming the door shut behind me.
"Watch it!" Marie said.
"Maybe you can get your new boyfriend to fix it." I glanced at the car next to hers with a parking sticker of the local community college. "What, so you've worked your way through all the high school boys?"
Instead of retorting, a smug smile grew on her face. "You think you're so smart, don't you? Let's see how smart you are after tonight."
I was halfway to a comment about her latest test grade when I realized what she'd said. "What do you mean, after tonight?"
Marie feigned innocence. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe there's actually something I know that you don't. Maybe you aren't as smart as you think, little genius."
I glowered.
She looked over my head and flashed a thousand-watt smile at someone behind me. "Hey, you!" Then her gaze landed on me again, and it hardened. "Can't wait to chat later when you're losing your shit."
I wasn't sure I believed her, but it was rare for Marie to be so smug. The only thing I could think of was perhaps Jeanie had a surprise for my birthday. In any case, any questions I had were answered by the slamming of Charity's front door.
By the time I heard my oldest sister's car pulling up in the driveway, I was putting the finishing touches on the discussion questions for English. Nicole was a student at the local university, and spent most of her days either in class or at her part-time job at the local pharmacy. Although she could've gotten a scholarship anywhere, she preferred to stay close and help Jeanie with me and Marie, as she'd done pretty much her whole life. And as much as I hated to think of Nicole putting aside her own aspirations for me, I was secretly glad of it.
Her face, so similar to my own, lit up when she walked through the kitchen door and put her bag down next to mine. "Happy birthday."
"It's tomorrow," I said, quirking my eyebrow. Birthdays weren't that exciting around our house; then again, Jeanie never really celebrated anything with too much flair.
"Yeah, but…happy early birthday." Nicole went to the fridge and poked around, before sighing loudly. "We don't have any food. Do you think Jeanie's going to the store?" She chewed her lip. "I should go to the store."
While she fretted over the state of our dinner, I dug in my bag for the last bit of homework that I'd been putting off. "Want to help me with chemistry?"
She glanced at me, then back in the fridge. "I could make a boxed dinner, I guess. But we don't have any chicken—"
"Nicole," I said, a bit more forcefully. "Chemistry? You promised me you'd help me with it when I signed up for the class, remember?"
"Chemistry is easy," she said, moving to the freezer.
"For you."
She offered the ghost of a smile before whipping out her phone. "We've all got our talents, Lexie."
As she texted our aunt, I flipped through my homework. After spending all day in class, and all afternoon doing more work, the chemistry fractions might as well have been written in French.
French! I still had French homework to do. Damn. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to survive high school if this was what it would be like for the next three years.
"Nicole," I whined.
"Fine, fine." She put down her phone and looked over my shoulder. "Oh, Lexie, this is easy. It's just math. See? The book tells you what to do right here."
"I don't want the book. I want you to show me."
She snorted and crossed the kitchen to check her buzzing phone. "That's a first."
"What?"
"You not wanting a book." Nicole sighed. "I'm going to get food. Want to come?"
I shook my head. "I need to finish this. Would you at least check my chemistry when you get back?"
"That I can do."
The house went silent again, and I struggled through chemistry, cursing Nicole and her suggestion that I take it over an easier science. She'd said it was the easiest class she'd ever taken, and that she'd help me with it, but most of her help had been "Just read the book." Normally, that was more our aunt's teaching style, which probably explained my penchant for the local bookstore.
I'd finished three questions before I heard a car in the driveway again. But instead of Nicole, Jeanie walked through the door. Thirty-something, with short, spiky brown hair, she'd been in her early twenties when she'd taken us in. She'd never been the nurturing type, but she kept us clothed, fed, and happy, so I supposed that was all I could ask for in a guardian. Although Marie could probably quibble with the "happy" part…
"Hey, hey," she said, spotting me at the kitchen counter.
"Hey," I said, closing the chemistry book. "How was work?"
"Good. How was school?"
"Good."
We stared at each other for a moment, which piqued my curiosity. Jeanie usually high-tailed it to her bedroom when she got home, returning just in time for dinner, and spent the evening on her computer or phone.
"What's going on in the news lately?" she asked, taking a seat at the table. "What's happening in Washington?"
"Um…" I blinked at her. While I was an avid follower of the political news sites, Jeanie couldn't tell the difference between a Democrat and a Republican. "You hate politics."
"Okay." She blew air out through her lips. "What are you studying in school?"
I glanced at my history notebook. "Salem witch trials?"
She snorted but didn't respond.
We descended into silence, and again, Jeanie's behavior drew my curiosity. "So…what's up?"
"Birthday tomorrow, right? What do you want to do? Go out to dinner?"
"S-sure…" I said, slowly. "Is something going on? You're acting really weird."
"Where's Nicole?"
"Getting dinner, like you asked."
"Hm." Jeanie ran a hand through her hair and glanced at the clock.
Marie's foreboding words earlier came back to haunt me, and I gave them a little more weight. "Is everything all right?"
"Sure, sure. We just need to have a little family talk tonight."
Family talk—when had we ever had one of those? "I'm not in trouble, am I?"
"You? Hardly." Jeanie snorted. "Speaking of trouble, where's Marie?"
I shrugged. "She said she was going to work a few hours ago. Oh, and she made me walk home from Charity's today. Did you know she's trying to date—"
"Lexie, don't even start," Jeanie said, wearily. "There's a list of things Marie needs to answer for when she gets home tonight."
You mean if, I said quietly. I'd heard them arguing the night before. Jeanie had said Marie had never come home. Marie didn't deny it, although she said she'd spent the night at a friend's house on the beach. The conversation had ended abruptly, and Jeanie had been in a stormy mood the rest of the evening. That was actually a nicer ending to most of their fights. Usually, Marie would end it with a hearty, "You aren't my mother" and Jeanie would ground her for three weeks.
Nicole chose that moment to walk in the front door, carrying three bags of takeout. Jeanie stood and helped her get everything out and on the table. There were more than a few furtive glances shared between them, and enough directed at me that I couldn't take it anymore.
"Okay, enough!" I barked, shocking both of them. "What the hell is going on? Did someone die?"
"Nobody died, Lexie," Jeanie said. "We just… We need to talk to you about something important. About the family. And about you."
I glanced between the two of them, random thoughts and worries spinning through my mind. Were we moving? Had we won the lottery?
Nicole opened her mouth then closed it, looking at Jeanie, who wore an indecisive look on her face.
"Well?" I said after a too-long silence.
"I think we should just come o
ut with it," Nicole said, watching Jeanie.
"I suppose. Lexie, you—"
"Well, hello, everyone!"
Marie's voice echoed through the room, making me jump. I'd been too focused on Jeanie and Nicole and hadn't even heard her come home.
She wore a devious smile on her face, which never boded well for anyone. "Did you tell her?"
"Getting to it, Marie," Nicole said. "Go back—"
In front of my eyes, a plate appeared on the counter, seemingly out of thin air—no strings, no hands, nothing actually placed it there. And then, a fully-formed ham sandwich with lettuce and tomato and, I assumed, mustard appeared on top of it.
Just.
Appeared.
Then the sandwich was gone from the counter, and in the blink of an eye, was in Marie's hands. "Wanted to make myself a snack before I went back to work."
And with that, she winked at me and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
My gaze, wide and unblinking, shifted over to Nicole and Jeanie, who didn't look the least bit surprised that sandwiches and sisters were appearing and disappearing all over the kitchen.
I swallowed and cleared my throat. "What the actual hell was that?"
"Damn her," Jeanie seethed. "I knew I should've charmed the house before Lexie got home—"
"I'm sorry, what the actual hell was that?" I repeated with more fervor.
Nicole tutted, glancing between Jeanie and the space Marie had disappeared from. "She's Marie, and she's always going to—"
"Excuse me!" My panicked voice echoed in the kitchen. "Can someone explain to me how the hell that just happened?"