You'd think I should have pulled up here in a horse drawn carriage. Instead, I pulled up in my mom's minivan. I'd been to this house only twice before, just a little over a month ago. Secretly, well actually I shared this little secret with Petr, who eagerly agreed with me; I called this place Lockhart Manor. This place had nothing on Bruce Wayne!
That last time I'd been here hadn't ended on the best of terms either. Mr. Lockhart wasn't anywhere near as bad his wife. For whatever reason, though I had several theories, Mrs. Lockhart had taken an extreme dislike towards me; all I did was accept an invitation to dinner by her son, Benjamin. This was back before I knew anything about my heritage. We still weren't sure where I got my "witchy powers" from. I liked to call them "witchy powers" because it sounded far less grim and weird that way. I was still adjusting! I just didn't say it out loud, except with Petr.
Man... I wished Petr came with me. Petr was straight, though he liked to point out to everyone that I was his property. He'd also recently come out a pansexual, a term I never experienced first-hand before. But like me being gay, Petr was still Petr to me. I was sure he started flirting with me as a way of getting a fellow witch, to make a move on me. I think it stuck too, because he never dropped the act. I would know, as he countlessly dragged me around with him, just like I was his property. Petr was somewhere between an inch to half an inch taller than me, a little skinnier, but strong. What word did I hear some girl from school (Karma with a K) call him? A twunk. Something between being a muscular hunk but still skinny enough to be called a twink.
Petr was dark brown haired, eyes that really did shift to different colors like a mood ring. Not even Petr knew his true eye color, but he wore contacts to keep anyone from noticing... if he could help it. Petr hated wearing them, he said they made his eyes itch. His skin was pale, not like fresh milk, but pale enough to originate someplace that wasn't here in America. You see, Petr was born in Prague. I never got around to asking if English was his first language. I suspected he spoke the language from his hometown, but I never heard him use it before.
I think the man in a red coat was waiting for me by the main entrance. So I was mildly curious to see different parts of the house since Benjamin never finished giving me the grand tour. I made sure to stop in front of the man in the red coat. I assumed I should give him my keys, but I was a tad reluctant to.
He had a face with a deep set of wrinkles, his blue eyes were cast upwards, and he didn't say a word. I think maybe he was looking at the moon since it was full tonight. The sky was empty of clouds. Only the stars and the moon filled the sky. It was mystifying if you asked me, then again, after finding out that I had some witchy powers, nothing around me looked the same. I even got caught looking at my parents, wondering, when they'd demand what I was I was looking at. I honestly wasn't sure how much they knew, if they knew at all.
Something told me they didn't, so I kept this whole thing a secret from them.
Benjamin came from the same Coven as Petr, which I later learned was called The Grove, but they weren't the only ones. Nathaniel, who I still didn't know much about, and Mason. Sigh, Mason. Mason would be here too. Ever since the night we first met, I was inevitably drawn to him. It wasn't in the normal way either. No, there was something about looking into his eyes and wanting to be devoured by them, it was carnal, possibly even animalistic.
We had a connection, as Petr told me about a month ago after we defeated about three, possibly four evil witches; a coven of black casting witches that called themselves The Daughters of Lillith.
It was a deep connection I shared with Mason. We were like soulmates so to speak, but instead of going for it like any normal teenager would have, I rejected him. For the time being anyway. Maybe reject was too strong a word. That didn't mean that every time I saw him, I didn't want us to tear the clothes off each other. Because I did. Oh boy did I want to feel what Mason's bare skin felt like beneath the palms of my hands. There were times I could feel his presence, even when I couldn't see him. I could read his mood too if I focused hard enough. I learned that much in the past month.
YOU ARE READING
In Shadow Wood, things are never quite as black and white as they appear. Alex Cabrera realizes how dangerous he can be to his fellow wytches. He knows what he can do, but he's still got a long way to go. When it comes to wytchcraft, there's so muc...