Page 1 of Witch Please
CHAPTER1
Iwatched everyone around me with a morbid sort of detachment because all I could offer them was some clumsy commiseration thanks to my miserable existence.
Okay fine, I pitied the fools.
They needed to be included in my wretchedness anyway and what better way to accomplish that than to feel sorry for them.
The voices coming from the book announcing they were the Fates rang like a gong in my mind’s ear on repeat and nothing could compare to that insanity. Apparently, who we were created to be was pretty much dead and gone from this world we lived in, as I was told. Women simply weren’t as healing, nurturing, and soft as they used to be. Men in return weren’t as courageous, honorable, and as strong as they used to be. It’s the degradation of a system based on ego and rigid intellectual coldness.
It’s the devolution of humanity.
And where humanity went, supernaturals followed, of course. Far be it from us to stay behind some pathetic humans. ‘Am I right?
All of it was happening because we lost the inner values. We slammed the door shut to spirit.
We got lost.
That’s what the voices in my head were screaming from the top of their lungs twenty-
four-seven. The bloody bastards!
You must have a reverence for the divine feminine, they told me. You must have a reverence for the divine masculine. You must have a code of honor. Inner power is the ability to maintain that honor which then opens the mystical doorways to the Spirit. And only this can lead you home.
Apparently, only this will allow me to use my ancestral magic which according to my insanity was the answer to everything.
The voices were persistent, I’d give them that.
Good for them.
Not that I had any intention of listening to the nonsense. I personally wanted to find the nearest bar, so I could get plastered.
I was in desperate need of high quality (I still have standards), strong booze.
The one that you’d feel burning down your throat for days after you’ve recovered from the hangover and the imprint of the toilet seat on your hands from hugging it tightly is long gone.
Call it what you may but getting piss ass drunk for the night and forgetting everything and everyone for just a moment sounded delightful to me. Maybe better than shopping therapy, if I was being honest.
Okay fine, that’s a lie. Nothing is better than shopping, but getting hammered came in second to best in my humble opinion.
I had every intention of making it happen, too.
“Black?” Sissily tucked a hanger with a silky black blouse under her chin. “Or blue?” a second one replaced the first, the indigo kami swaying gently around her torso with the movement.
“Why do they both look familiar?” my eyes narrowed on her face when her expression changed from thoughtful to one of shock with a comical widening of her eyes. She tried to recover quickly; I had to be proud of her for that but there was no way I’d let her get away with it. “Both came from my closet, didn’t they?”
“You haven’t touched these in at least a year and a half, they were getting depressed and lonely, from being shunned in the deep dark recesses at the back of your closet.” My friend muttered defensively, and she wasn’t ready to let it go. “If I remember correctly, and these are your words not mine, you wouldn’t be seen dead in something so last season.” Her peepers rolled to the back of her head playfully and I couldn’t stop my lips from curling up.
I was giving her a hard time just to have fun. The woman was wearing additional clothing on her person to cover my clumsy ass every time I needed to replace what I was wearing. I had no right to complain even if she took every piece of fabric I owned. Designer or otherwise.
“And you thought I’d be willing to be seen with you wearing something so last season?” My arched eyebrow was answered with a derisive snort. “I didn’t think so.”
“I figured I’d at least make an effort, since you are very adamant about going out. I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it if I try to step out of the room in a t-shirt.” Tossing both hangers on the armchair with a huff, she threw herself onto the bed next to me. “Why can’t we just go grab a couple,” she saw my scowl and amended the ridiculous statement immediately. “A few actually, now that I think about it, bottles of wine or gin, and bring them here? We can get perfectly drunk in Pj’s, too. No need for fancy clothing or makeup. Get what I mean? It’ll be comfy as all hell, as well.”
“If I stay in this room for another hour, I’m going to self-combust, Sissily.” It was not an exaggeration of the truth, and she knew it. “The longer we mingle, the more I have an urge to jump out of my skin, claw my ears off, or poke out my eardrums. Can we just go?”
“You sure we will be good to leave the house?” Sissily queried, trying and epically failing to hide the worry creasing the corners of her eyes, she rolled off the bed and stood up. “Friend or not, Alex gives me the heebie-jeebies every time he focuses on me.”
“Yeah, he knows we are going to the pub for a drink. He owns the place after all it’s not like we can hide on pack lands.” Following her example, I stood too and started searching for my shoes while pretending the lightheadedness was not there. “I was very clear that I will either go or his home might blow up like Danika’s coven building. You should see how fast he agreed.”
