A Witch And A Hard Place (The Witch Next Door Book 7) Read online

  A Witch And A Hard Place

  The Witch Next Door™ Book Seven

  Judith Berens

  This book is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2019 Judith Berens, Martha Carr & Michael Anderle

  Cover by Fantasy Book Design

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, December 2019

  ebook ISBN: 978-1-64202-664-1

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64202-665-8

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Free Books

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  Other Books By Martha Carr

  Books by Michael Anderle

  Connect with The Authors

  The Witch And A Hard Place Team

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Kathleen Fettig

  Diane L. Smith

  Peter Manis

  Jeff Eaton

  Debi Sateren

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Deb Mader

  Jeff Goode

  Dave Hicks

  Larry Omans

  If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!

  Editor

  SkyHunter Editing Team

  Dedications

  From Martha

  To everyone who still believes in magic

  and all the possibilities that holds.

  To all the readers who make this

  entire ride so much fun.

  And to my son, Louie and so many wonderful friends who remind me all the time of what

  really matters and how wonderful

  life can be in any given moment.

  From Michael

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  One

  Roads through the Sahara Desert were few and far between. Most of the single main highway that stretched from the northern coast of Libya down through the rolling dunes and sunbaked wastelands that sprawled ever southward was unpaved too. The other roads, traversed at one’s peril, didn’t officially have names out there amidst the sea of sand.

  “It’s very easy to get lost if you don’t know where you’re going.” Magnus Ungert gripped the steering wheel of his Jeep Wrangler and barreled down one such unnamed road in the wasteland. “Carmichael knew what he was doing when he set up shop in the world’s dead zone.” The hybrid warlock glanced at the black-and-silver pin he’d stuck through his thick canvas jacket below the collar. Right now, that jacket lay in the passenger seat beside him, thrown off in the evening heat the night before when he had stopped to refuel before setting out into the middle of nowhere.

  He reached reflexively for the jacket and the pin that winked at him in an invitation, then thought better of it. “I already know where I’m going. And if it keeps those idiots from getting any closer to the High Seat, the network can wait.” He shook his head and blinked at the poorly packed dirt and sand of the road through the Fezzan region that both cut through the desert and was simultaneously swallowed by it. He’d passed Zillah not that long before—one of the last oasis towns for a very long distance—without stopping. “Carmichael sent out the call and the rest of us come running, don’t we?” He snorted and pounded a hand on the steering wheel. His vehicle flurried a constant spout of dust and sand behind him in as much of a straight line as anyone ever made out there. “He said we’re close. If he’s wrong, I’ll—”

  With a grunt of surprise, he frowned and narrowed his eyes at the desert road. Warily, he leaned forward to squint into the semi-darkness of the murky light before sunrise. It was early enough that he wasn’t blinded by the sun soon to rise ahead, but there was enough darkness to make him doubt what he saw silhouetted against the gray-blue light. “What the hell is that?”

  A long, rectangular shape grew by the second, standing off the road ahead of him. He pumped the brakes to avoid skidding over the sand as he slowed from doing a little over ninety. The warlock’s eyes widened and he chuckled.

  “That’s them. Right there waiting for me, like a five-course dinner on the table. Ha!” His hand thumped on the steering wheel again, and he pulled the Jeep to a stop about a dozen yards behind what was now clearly a Winnebago Adventurer.

  The lights of the RV were off, and from where he had stopped, Magnus couldn’t hear any movement or generators or any noise at all. The only sound was the cool desert air as it whispered across the sand, which would soon be too hot for his liking. “This has to be the witch everyone’s looking for.” He turned off the vehicle, sniffed, and sneered through the windshield. “This is too easy.”

  Cautiously and quietly, he opened the door and he left it open so he wouldn’t alert that stupid witch and her annoying werewolf to his presence. If they were still asleep, all the better. With slow steps, the warlock moved down the dirt road between the rising dunes on either side and flexed his fingers at his sides. A gust of wind picked up to pelt the back of the RV with sand and a few larger pebbles from the dirt road. He stepped around to the right side of the Winnebago, knowing he’d find an entrance there that would give him easier access and hopefully the advantage of surprise against the occupants—something he wouldn’t have if he tried to climb through the front door.

  When he rounded the back of the vehicle, he stopped.

  A faded blue beach towel was spread out in the sand beside the vehicle, slowly being covered by the winds and the ever-shifting desert. On that towel, though, was Lily Antony herself. The young witch lay on her back in a zip-up hoodie and baggy sweatpants, her arms resting serenely at her sides. Her blonde hair fanned out around her head, some of it completely covered by the sand that had drifted toward her for however long she’d been lying here.

  Magnus smirked. I heard she was dumb, but how stupid does someone have to be to sleep on the side of the road in the Sahara without shelter? Unarmed? It took considerable willpower not to snort at how easy a catch this would be. Carmichael ha
d mentioned rewards for any members of the Black Heron Society who personally delivered this sleeping witch to the High Seat. It looks like that’s gonna be me.

  The warlock’s feet made no noise over the loose sand as he moved toward the witch. When he stopped only a yard away, he stretched his fingers again. Red, shimmering orbs of a containment spell flared to life in his palms and he couldn’t wait to use them.

  As he raised a hand toward her, Lily’s eyes flew open. They glowed a bright, blazing white in the twilight before dawn.

  “What the—” He didn’t see the long copper rod in the young witch’s hand until the inverted U shape at its tip raised and pointed directly at him. The same white beam of light burst from the tip of the rod and struck him squarely in the chest. Before he could scream, he was gone, erased from the desert as if he’d never been there.

  Lily raised her head off the towel and stared at where the warlock had stood in front of her. After a moment, she lowered her head onto the towel again and sighed. “I don’t care how quiet he was. I wasn’t done meditating.” She glanced at the copper rod of the Varelos in her hand. “And now that conversation’s over. Thanks for the heads-up, though.”

  She pushed herself up until she sat on the towel and gazed west down the road through Fezzan. “Huh. I honestly didn’t expect them to drive after us now that we’re this close. Let’s go see what he left us.”

  With a regretful sigh—she really had enjoyed the meditation time—she pushed quickly to her feet and moved down the road toward the warlock’s abandoned Jeep. The driver-side door was still open. The copper Varelos rod swung in her hand. When she reached the vehicle, she climbed inside, sat firmly in the driver’s seat, and glanced around. “It looks like a car that can make it across the Sahara,” she mused and flipped the visor down to check for anything tucked behind it but found nothing. “I’d still take the Winnie over this any day. Oh, hey… Look at that.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she picked up the warlock’s canvas jacket, careful not to let her fingers touch the black-and-silver pin beneath the collar with the image she knew only too well—a black heron, its wings outstretched in flight and neck slightly bent in the telltale U shape. “Well, at least I didn’t teleport a random Warlock ready to blast me to oblivion. Now, I have proof of who he was working for.” With a shrug, she dropped the jacket onto the passenger seat and focused on the phone in the center console.

  It was locked, of course, when she picked it up. But days of not being able to sleep—thanks to the blaze of yellow light only she could see that lit the way toward her mom with no off switch—had given her an abundance of time to practice her most powerful spells. Which was another advantage, as those were really the only kinds an Optatus witch needed.

  “I can’t believe it took me this long to try spells on electronics.” She tapped the smartphone’s screen, which buzzed with a few static lines for a second before it unlocked and took her immediately to the home screen. She opened the text messages, scanned them quickly, and uttered a wry chuckle. “Oh, man. These people really are having a hard time, aren’t they?” Another quick glance around the Jeep showed her only a few half-empty bottles of water, a sleeping bag, an open suitcase only partially filled with clothes, and nothing else besides. “I wonder if—”

  “Lily?” Romeo’s voice was faint, swept away by the winds through the sand despite how loudly he’d shouted.

  The young witch leaned toward the open door and glanced at the phone again and the text that could possibly have gone to every Black Heron member. “Yeah?”

  He bounded out of the Winnie and jogged toward the Jeep. “Did you actually steal someone’s car?”

  Lily tapped the copper Varelos rod against her shoulder and stared blankly at the steering wheel. “Well, not yet.”

  Two

  “Okay, Lil. I know ‘yet’ is the operative word, here.” Romeo stopped beside the Jeep’s open door and propped himself up on the doorframe. “But let’s not follow that all the way through, okay?”

  Lily turned to look at him with a smirk. “Is it really stealing if the owner simply left it?”

  He studied the mischievous curve of her lips, the dark circles of sleeplessness under her eyes, and the foggy glaze that had been her constant expression for the last two days. “It depends on what actually happened to the owner.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He tried to sneak up on me. I was meditating, and this trusty artifact told me he was standing right there over me.” She lifted the Varelos a little before she turned to meet his gaze. “I only wanted him to go away.”

  “Wait, what? Why didn’t you wake me?” He sent the copper rod a wary look. “You know I would’ve helped you.”

  “I know. But I didn’t need you to. I only…” She sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug. “I only thought about the guy leaving me alone and then he was gone.”

  “Because of that thing.” He nodded at the Varelos.

  “I guess. It turns out the most powerful magical weapon in the world is also an excellent watchdog and problem-solver.”

  “Lily.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’d you do to the warlock?”

  She shrugged again. “Teleported him, probably. I have no idea where, but that’s not really the most important thing right now, is it?”

  “No, I’d say the most important thing is that you actually teleported a random magical without knowing who he was or what he wanted.”

  “Romeo, he wanted to attack me. He had spells ready and everything. He’s a Black Heron member.”

  “It’s kinda hard to be sure about that when the guy’s not around to ask, isn’t it?”

  Lily snatched the canvas jacket on the passenger seat beside her and lifted the collar. “I’m fairly sure this says enough.”

  He scowled at the black-and-silver heron pin, then shook his head. “You didn’t know that before he disappeared.”

  “But the Varelos did.” She lifted the warlock’s phone from her lap, held it out toward him, and nodded. “Go ahead and read it.”

  Romeo chewed on the inside of his cheek and studied her intently before he finally took the stranger’s phone and read the text aloud. “‘The prodigal hybrids are out of control, and it’s become quite clear that they’re acting against the interests of the High Seat and our organization as a whole. Any of you still loyal to the cause are to now engage our wayward associates as enemies until the final preparations have been made and the Transference is complete.’” He held the phone out to her with a scowl. “These people are nuts.”

  “Right.” She took the phone and dropped it back in the cupholder. “And apparently, they have far more problems now than simply pursuing us. Which is a good thing, for the most part.”

  “Or it merely makes them much more dangerous than they already were.”

  She laughed and looked at him with wide, amused eyes. “You’re kinda being a drag this morning.”

  He shook his head. “I’m being realistic, Lil. Do you think maybe four days with no sleep is starting to get to you?”

  “Probably.” Lily slid out of the driver’s seat, and he stepped back to give her space. She shut the door behind her and lifted the Varelos to settle it against her shoulder. “I don’t feel so tired or crazy with this thing, though.”

  “I’ve noticed.” The werewolf followed her down the road toward the Winnie again. “Maybe it’s a good idea to let go of it for a little while. You know, put it somewhere safe and try to get some rest that doesn’t involve so much…meditating.”

  She sent him a coy glance over her shoulder. “This thing is the only way I’ve been able to get any rest at all. I know you can’t see this light stretching from me and forever across the desert toward the next place we’re supposed to be. You’ll have to believe me when I say it’s impossible to sleep or relax or ignore this…beacon, except for when I sit down for a little chat with this.” The Varelos tapped against her shoulder. “It drowns everything else out.”

/>   Romeo sighed and held the Winnie’s side door open for her as she climbed the two steps inside. “Okay, Lil. Can we settle on a compromise, then?”

  Lily slumped onto the couch, crossed one leg over the other, and settled the copper rod over her lap. “It depends on what it is.”

  “When we get where we’re supposed to go and that light disappears, you put that thing away. I’ll put it up in the cabinet—or somewhere you can’t find it if you want.” Slowly, he lowered himself onto the couch beside her and tried not to stare at the copper rod that had been in her hand for at least the last forty-eight hours. “If the beacon I can’t see is gone, you won’t need your fancy meditation rod to rest, right?”

  She licked her lips and stared at the magical artifact she’d taken from the god of dreams in Greece and pretended to hand over to the Vátran Royal while they crossed the Mediterranean in half an hour. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “For what?”

  “I know you don’t like it.” She looked at him and leaned back against the couch. “I know I’ve been hanging onto it—too much, probably. But it’s kind of the only lifeline I have right now. Besides you.” A wry chuckle escaped her. “Trust me, if you had the ability to make this nonstop-shining light go away so I could actually sleep, I wouldn’t carry this around.”