Witches Read Free Page B

witch had her own special gifts. White witches, who swore to help humanity. Witches, who often believed in a merciful God and worshipped nature, but never Satan.
    As the night birds disappeared, and the day creatures began to rise with the dawn, she’d led her love to her bed. From that day on, for ten beautiful years, nothing had ever separated them.
    Weeks later, as they’d cuddled before a fire in her shack on the edge of the woods, when he’d known her better and seen her powers first hand, she’d told him everything about her witchery.
    “I’m of the Old Religion, before it split itself into Dualism.”
    “Dualism?”
    “A creed that holds that there are two sides to God. The Diabolic or black witchcraft believes that the evil side, Satan, is stronger. White witches, the pure Old Religion, believe that the good side, God, is stronger and that we receive our powers from Him. It’s a very ancient, misunderstood religion. We’re not allowed to interfere with the world.”
    “Ah, like the Prime Directive in Star Trek ?”
    “ Star Trek? ” she’d inquired, puzzled.
    “That’s right, you don’t watch much television, do you?” He recalled she had little use for it. “It’s an old television science fiction show about Captain Picard and his crew, who travel through space from one world to another. They’re not, usually, allowed to tamper with the civilizations they encounter, only observe. It would upset the worlds’ delicate balances, you see.”
    “That’s it exactly. We witches are supposed to keep a low profile, help from behind the scenes, observe. Not call attention to ourselves, never hurt anything or anyone. If we do use our powers to hurt, we pay dearly for it.”
    “Ah, so the cults, the animal and human sacrificing, Satanic masses, and that sadistic mumbo jumbo we read about all the time is the bad side of witchcraft?” He had caught on quickly.
    “The dark side.” She supplied the word for him. “ Black magic. Evil people who bastardize the Old Religion’s beliefs, worship Satan and his legions. Sick people who want attention. It’s given witchcraft a bad name. True witches are healers, not killers. We abhor people like that and fight their evil whenever we can.”
    She’d shrugged. “Most people don’t know that, though. They’re so superstitious, Jake, even in these times, so afraid of what they don’t understand.” She’d sighed, knowing this well from her own experiences. “I learned early to keep my religion, my powers hidden. It scares people. They think all witches idolize the Devil, drink baby’s blood, or cackle over a steaming inky kettle full of foul-smelling animal parts. Just like in the dark ages. Warts on your nose and hair like a greasy mop.” With this, she’d finally laughed.
    In time, Jake accepted what she was, and loved her more for it. They’d even married in the old way, just the two of them exchanging their vows under the sacred oak trees. She would have done anything for him.
    However, fate had something else in store for Jake. One thing a witch must accept was that one cannot defy fate. It was too strong.
    What would be would be.
    A rainy night, slick roads, and a smashed up car—and Jake was gone.
    Now, with her heart breaking, her eyes shut, her hands waving languidly over the fire, she chanted the nefarious words that would bring her husband back from the dead.
    Mandy...no, Mandy ...
    Something crashed against the door, as if something or someone were throwing themselves against it. Wood splintered, but the door held. Amadeus, who had powers of his own, was fighting mad now. It was his responsibility to protect her, protect her from herself, if need be. She heard him growling at her through the door.
    Open up, Mandy. Open the damn door!
    “No. I told you, Amadeus, either help me or go away.”
    The cat grumbled beyond the door, hissed and spat as loud as any big cat, and the battering resumed.
    Amanda’s eyes flew open, widened as the