Witchy, Witchy (Spellbound Trilogy #1) Read online

  Witchy, Witchy (teen fantasy/paranormal romance)

  Title Page

  Chapter 1. Fantasyland

  Chapter 2. Pretenses

  Chapter 3. Nicholas

  Chapter 4. The Room

  Chapter 5. Revelations

  Chapter 6. Gifts

  Chapter 7. Connection

  Chapter 8. Hunted

  Chapter 9. Friends

  Chapter 10. Justin

  Chapter 11. Visible

  Chapter 12. Exposed

  Chapter 13. Morningstars

  Chapter 14. Trinity

  Chapter 15. Deeper

  Chapter 16. New Light

  Chapter 17. Two Hearts

  Chapter 18. Rings

  Chapter 19. Fire

  Chapter 20. Lies

  Chapter 21. Princess

  Chapter 22. Betrayed

  Chapter 23. Dreaming

  Chapter 24. Death Sentence

  Chapter 25. Druantia

  Chapter 26. Reunion

  Chapter 27. Becoming

  Chapter 28. Cursed

  Chapter 29. Sleep

  Chapter 30. Wait

  Book #2 of the Spellbound Trilogy

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Witchy, Witchy

  Spellbound Trilogy #1

  A novel

  by

  Penelope King

  Copyright © 2011 Penelope King

  Cover Design by Regina Wamba Maeidesign.com

  Photo by Jessica Truscott faestock.deviantart.com

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and events are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Copyright © 2011 Penelope King

  All rights reserved.

  Also by Penelope King:

  The Demonblood Series:

  A Demon Made Me Do It

  Fire with Fire

  authorpenelopeking.blogspot.com

  Chapter 1. Fantasyland

  Our ‘57 Chevy truck sputtered to a noisy stop in front of the monstrous iron gates, and the guard shot us a disapproving look. Although he was at least ten feet away, I felt the disdain behind his phony cordial smile. Couldn’t really blame him, though. Dad’s old beater was louder than a jet engine, and this place was classy and quiet. Even its name sounded elegant: Crystal Cove Estates.

  “May I help you?” the short man holding a clipboard asked as Dad rolled down his window. His right eyebrow rose as if he wondered why we were there.

  “I’m Del McCoy. This here’s my daughter, Calista. We here to see Miz Anastasia Havish.”

  The guard’s eyes widened and he glanced down at his list. “Why, yes...here you are,” he muttered, unable to conceal his surprise. He stared at us appraisingly, clearly not liking what he saw. This irritated me, because even though our truck was old and rusted, both Dad and I were wearing our Sunday best. I’d carefully made my yellow dress myself from a pattern fashioned after a famous New York designer.

  “Do you know how to get to the manor?” he asked.

  Dad shook his head. “Nah.”

  “I’ll fetch you a map. One moment.”

  As the guard scurried to his little building, I turned my head to look out my window. Curious to see beyond the row of trees on the side of the entry way, I was tempted to move the branches out of the way—easy enough to do with the slightest flicker of my fingers. But I didn’t dare. Not with other people nearby. Besides, I’d vowed to leave all that weird stuff behind me.

  Coming to Crystal Cove was a brand-new start. Our new beginning.

  After a few moments, the man returned and handed Dad a piece of paper. A second later, the large, motorized gate slid open, permitting our passage to a forbidden kingdom few people were ever privileged enough to access.

  The narrow road was marked ‘private’. A bit obvious, I thought, seeing as how the whole community was like a fortress. Guess rich people didn’t like regular folk mucking up their perfect scenery.

  So what the heck are we doing here? I wondered for what must’ve been the millionth time.

  We reached the end of the street, pausing once again in front of yet another monstrous gate.

  Dad glanced down at the directions. “Yup. This is it.”

  “Okay, well, what do we do now?” I asked. There was no button to push, or entry box of any sort. But no sooner had the words left my mouth then the mammoth bars slowly parted.

  Several soaring palm trees flanked the entrance. As we drove down the long, curvy driveway, we were surrounded by acres of luscious, perfectly manicured countryside, dotted with bursts of bright colors and delicate white trim. After a few minutes, a massive structure gracefully emerged. My jaw dropped, and I could feel my eyes bulging. I blinked and readjusted my glasses.

  Once again, Dad had demonstrated his knack for drastically understating things. He’d said we were going to live in a nice house. This wasn’t ‘nice’—it was amazing. And ‘house’ wasn’t even the proper word to describe what I was looking at…it looked more like a modern-day castle or fancy hotel. It wasn’t quite twilight yet but all the windows were brightly illuminated, as if every light was turned on inside.

  Despite the magnificence of the glowing building, my eyes were drawn to another sight…something even more breathtaking. Set against a backdrop of eternal blue, the house was nestled on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

  I’d never seen the ocean before…not in real life, anyway. I didn’t want to blink for fear the miraculous scene would disappear, and be only another one of my wild hallucinations.

  Dad pulled around the circular driveway and stopped in front of the entrance doors, which, like everything else here, were ridiculously oversized. A petite woman wearing a long white sundress was on the front porch, her dark silver hair tied neatly in a low bun, and a small red flower tucked behind her left ear. She was standing beside two giant statues of lions, which only exaggerated her diminutive size. She waved at us excitedly before rushing to the truck.

  “That’s Miz Havish,” Dad said.

  I’d figured as much. But it would’ve been nice to have a little more of a heads up. Usually, I would’ve known exactly what Mrs. Havish looked like from the first time Dad had mentioned her. My whole life I’d been able to do that—picture someone perfectly whom I’d never met. And my visions were always right, down to the tiniest freckle. At first I thought everyone could do it, but once I realized it was only me, I kept that—along with my other freaky talents—to myself.

  But with Mrs. Havish I’d seen nothing, and that bothered me...a lot.

  When Dad turned off the truck’s engine, its guttural explosion unleashed an assault on the flawless beauty around us. It seemed to be screaming, “I don’t belong here!”

  I knew how it felt.

  But I was relieved we’d finally reached our destination. After being trapped for four days in the stuffy truck feeling Dad’s nervous emotions flooding over me, I desperately needed some fresh air before I really went crazy.

  Mrs. Havish didn’t appear to mind our obnoxious arrival. With an exuberant smile and her arms held wide, she hurried toward us like someone reuniting with long-lost loved ones, rather than greeting a newly hired handyman and his never-before-seen offspring.

  “Welcome, welcome,” she gushed as I stepped out of the truck. Her warm enthusiasm and joy washed over me in waves. For a moment, I was afraid she was going to h
ug me, but she just clasped my hands and gaped at me with her unusually sparkly blue eyes.

  Dad trotted over and slung his arm over my shoulders.

  “This here’s my daughter, Calista,” he said.

  Mrs. Havish, who hadn’t taken her eyes off me for a moment, smiled wider. I swore I felt her heart literally glowing with pleasure.

  “My darling Calista, it’s so nice to see you. Welcome to your new home!” she said. And this time she did throw her arms around me.

  I stood there, shocked. I’d never hugged a perfect stranger before, but maybe this was how people in California did things. Feeling awkward, I gently patted her back until she finally released me.

  “I am Anastasia Havish, but I insist you call me Ana. Mrs. Havish is way too formal to be used amongst friends, and, well, Anastasia really is quite a mouthful, is it not?” She laughed merrily.

  “Ana. Thank you for inviting us here,” I said, unsure of what to say to her. Her unbridled enthusiasm at seeing us was nice, but way weird. “This place really is beautiful – I can’t wait to see the rest of it.”

  “Of course, of course. You’ll get the grand tour in good time. But for now you need to get settled in. You must be exhausted. Let me show you to the cottage where you’ll be taking up residence. If you need any help with your belongings, my valet, Henri, will be more than happy to be of service. Just say the word.”

  Ana’s voice was clear and melodic. So far, she wasn’t at all what I’d expected. Dad had described her as a helpless, tiny old woman who lived in a nice house and needed help with the upkeep. I’m sure Ana’s small build and silver hair gave Dad the impression she was frail, but to my eyes, she was anything but. She was vibrant and energetic…and so alive.

  “Thanks, but I think we can manage,” Dad replied. “We don’t have too much—just a few bags and a suitcase. My tools and supplies are all in the back of the truck though – what should I do with that?”

  “Just leave the keys with Henri. He’ll park it for you in the garage. Your tools will be safe there.”

  My gaze had been fixed on the shimmering cobalt sea, but I was soon distracted by the arrival of a stout, ruddy-faced man. He wore what looked like a tuxedo from the fifteen-hundreds, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. The thought of this elfish man driving Dad’s pickup was almost too ludicrous to imagine.

  I guess Dad thought the same thing, because he chuckled and said, “Thank you, ma’am, but with all due respect, that’s prolly not such a good idea. She’s real tricky to start up sometimes. Best if I do it.”

  “Certainly – whatever you think is best,” Ana said, turning back to me. “Calista, this is Henri. He is my driver as well as my butler. He’ll be at your service as much as he is at mine.”

  The man bowed gracefully, lightly kissing the top of my hand. “Mademoiselle, it is a pleasure to serve you.”

  A butler? What on earth would I ever need a butler for? Then again, I wasn’t exactly sure what a butler actually did.

  “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Henri,” I said, embarrassed by his greeting.

  Ana reached for my hand again. “Come now. Let’s show you your new home. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

  The four of us headed down a path that veered away from the main house and down a slight slope toward the beach. I wished it was sunnier so I could better see the opulent gardens blanketing the grounds. As it was, I made do with the soft glow cast by hundreds of little lanterns placed strategically throughout the property.

  The cottage looked as if a small piece of the main house had broken off and formed its own tiny island. All the lights were on inside it, too, and as I passed through the front door the sweet, woodsy scent of apples and cinnamon filled the air. A roaring fire from a brick enclave in the corner and several candles burning throughout the rooms made the whole area feel warm and inviting. This guest house was easily the size of most normal houses.

  “There are dual master suites on either side, plus a bonus room to be used however you wish,” Ana said, sounding like a realtor. “The kitchen has all new appliances, and there’s a washer and dryer in the laundry room.”

  I blinked several times in awe. A washer and dryer inside? I’d always washed our clothes in the creek, and hung them on a clothesline to dry. Would Ana laugh if I told her I had no idea how to operate a real washing machine?

  I wandered to the back of the room. The entire wall was made of glass. Golden silk curtains tapered off to one side, affording a clear view of the vibrant gardens and the sparkling expanse of ocean. The sound of waves could be heard crashing on the shores below.

  “May I?” I asked, opening the sliding glass door.

  “Certainly. This is your home now. Look around as much as you like.” Ana turned to Dad and started chatting.

  I slid the door open and crossed over a patch of grass. From up here, I had a perfect view of the coast line. A few miles to the south was a boardwalk and pier all lit up like a mini-carnival, and with maybe two dozen people milling about. There was even a Ferris wheel. I’d never been on any ride other than hay rides or donkey rides back home. Would I have the courage to try it?

  A slow smile spread across my lips. Heck yes!

  My gaze drifted to the empty beach below me…empty except for a lone figure walking along the shoreline. It looked like a young man. Tall. Dark hair. Nice build. He moved slowly along the sand, his movements deliberate as he stretched, lunged, and twisted his body in various positions. I squinted and pushed up my glasses to see him more clearly. But the sun was setting behind him and cast his body in a ghostly silhouette.

  He tilted his head up. I couldn’t quite make out his features, but I knew he was looking at me. I felt it, like tiny jolts of warm electricity pricking my skin.

  I sucked in my breath and took a small step back.

  “Calista, get in here!” Dad yelled from the doorway. “You’re bein’ rude!”

  I spun around. “Sorry, Dad. Coming.”

  I turned back to the figure on the beach, but he was jogging away toward the pier, followed by a bouncy black dog.

  After watching them for a minute longer, I turned and walked inside my new home.

  Chapter 2. Pretenses

  I stared at my bedroom, entranced.

  “Calista, darling, I hope you don’t mind,” Ana’s voice broke into my reverie. “I took the liberty of decorating your room and providing some basic necessities I thought a young woman your age might need. If it’s not to your taste, I’ll be more than happy to have it re-done any way you wish.”

  “No, I love it. Thank you, it’s perfect. This is…well, it’s by far the loveliest house I’ve ever been in.” And that was the truth. It was the complete polar opposite of the dingy, cramped shack my father and I had shared for the past five years.

  “I confess, I indulged in quite a bit of fun shopping in preparation for your arrival,” Ana went on. “It’s just been so long since I’ve had anyone to take care of, I fear I may have gone overboard.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure everything will be wonderful,” I said, smiling at her. She seemed so eager to make me happy, and I thought this to be quite the odd role reversal. She was opening up this extraordinary home to us, and had welcomed us as her own. I was ready to be her slave for life.

  “Then I suppose the time has come for me to take my leave. Dinner will be ready at seven thirty. Is that acceptable to you?”

  “Sounds good,” Dad replied. I was busy picturing what Ana’s house must look like if this was just a ‘guest house’.

  After Ana left, Dad turned to me with a grin. “What’d I tell ya, hon? This place somethin’ else or what?”

  “We live here? I mean, we really live here?” It felt like a dream—like we’d won the lottery without ever buying a ticket. As I stared around our new place in awe, I realized I was actually glad this moment hadn’t been spoiled by a ‘preview’ vision.

  “Shore do,” he said. “Now go get cleaned up. We don’t wanna ke
ep Miz Havish waitin’.”

  My bedroom also had a wall made of clear glass, allowing me the same extraordinary view of the colorful backyard and majestic coastline. Only instead of the silky gold curtains, mine were plush, purple velvet.

  I gazed out at the beach, and my mind returned to the mysterious jogger. Why had I experienced such a strong reaction when he looked at me? I was used to absorbing other people’s emotions as if they were my own, but this was different. He was so far away...usually I only felt people who were close to me. And what was that sensation I felt? Definitely bizarre. No one had ever made my skin tingle like that before.

  With a sigh, I closed the shades and turned back to admire my room, done up in various shades of purple with silver and white accents. The king-sized bed could sleep four or five people comfortably. There was a dresser, a full-length mirror, a chaise…even a stereo system. A rectangular panel was attached to the wall like I’d seen in the other rooms. Suddenly, I realized what it was—a flat-screen television set. We’d never had anything but the fifty-ton box with a broken antenna, so I never watched much TV. Pretty cool to have one, though, I decided.

  My private bathroom was larger than my old bedroom had been. The first thing I noticed was the huge Jacuzzi tub sunk in a huge block of marble, with candles, fresh wild flowers, and exotic-looking bath salts and oils perched along the wide ledges.

  I gazed at it longingly. I’d never seen a tub so big in my life. My bones ached from our long journey, and sinking into a hot bubble-bath right now was my idea of heaven. But I didn’t have enough time, and I didn’t want Dad to get mad at me for dawdling. I settled for a quick shower instead – promising myself the bath when I returned.

  After my shower, as I dug through my bag to find something respectable to wear, I noticed two side-by-side doors in the wall. I opened them to investigate, and my jaw dropped for about the tenth time in the past hour.