I Am So Sick of Witches

Agatha was downstairs pacing in anticipation of the Broussards arriving in New Orleans. She had her plans but knew they had their own.

She hated having to play nice with the werewolves. They were beneath her; however, Agatha thought everyone was beneath her.

She heard the footsteps but didn’t need to. She could sense the wolves before they opened the door.

Her voice trembling, Hilda said, “High Priestess, Agatha, they are here.”

“Well, stop dawdling! Send them down here!”

The Broussards tramped downstairs. The trio brothers stood against the wall in order of age with their arms crossed. Bobbette and Adonis stood next to them.

Atticus and Wade approached Agatha, matching each other’s height as they stood beside one another.

With a toothpick clenched between his teeth, Atticus said, “I thought you witches were all-knowing. I’m guessing you didn’t know they had already fled.”

Agatha glared but covered her true feelings with a smile. “Just as I didn’t know your trio over there would fail.”

Atticus huffed, “And if we had known about Laney and River’s spark, we wouldn’t have failed.”

Wade intervened. “We can play the blame game until we are blue in the face. Bottom line, we both failed. So, what’s the plan now?”

Keeping her condescending smile, Agatha said, “Now, you do what you wolves do best. You hunt. You sniff them out. You find them, and once we know their location, we strike. It’s that simple.”

Atticus laughed sarcastically. “Oh, it’s that simple?” He looked around at his family. “Did y’all hear that? The witch is telling us how simple it is.”

Wade stepped in again. “Agatha, it’s not that simple. Ever since Mama Laveau joined them, we have been unable to pick up their scent.

“We went to their homes and still couldn’t smell them anywhere. If we can’t smell them where they live, we sure as hell aren’t going to be able to sniff them out in this city.”

Agatha’s patience grew thin. If the wolves couldn’t sniff Laney out, she had no use for them. Not wanting to act hastily, she contained her impulse to cast a spell, turning them all into frogs.

Unaware she was right behind her, Agatha screeched, “Hilda!”

Hilda’s flinch quickly turned into a bow, “Yes, High Priestess.”

“Give me the grimoire.” Agatha looked back at Wade and Atticus. “Mama Laveau’s protection spell cannot be overturned, but if I can trace her magic, I can understand the spell’s parameters.”

Still clenching his toothpick, Atticus said, “And that will tell us their location?”

“No. But it will tell me if it’s focused on an area or individual,” Agatha said as she flipped through the grimoire. “Ah, ha! Here it is.”

Agatha reached for the potions lined up on the shelf, each bottle glowing faintly in the dim light.

As she poured them one by one into the bubbling cauldron, vibrant clouds of smoke erupted, swirling into the air in shades of crimson, ebony, and amethyst.

Agatha swept her hands over the mixture violently, her voice rising in an incantation that seemed to thrum with ancient power.

The room trembled as the fluorescent lights above flickered and then burst in succession, the glass shattering to the floor with a crystalline tinkling.

The wolves crouched instinctively, rubbing their heads and shaking off the shards.

Yet, Atticus and Wade stood unyielding, their expressions unchanging, unfazed by the magic’s tantrum.

Suddenly, the cauldron blazed with a brilliant light, casting Agatha in an otherworldly glow.

Her hair whipped wildly, though no wind could be felt, as if the energy of the spell itself was animating her.

Her eyes rolled back, revealing nothing but luminous white pupils, as she became the epicentre of a power far beyond the mortal realm.

Agatha’s hands gripped the cauldron as her body froze, absorbing the whispers as the smoke encircled her. Her eyes slid shut, and there was a lingering silence. After a few eerie seconds, they flashed open, revealing her natural shade of green.

Atticus glanced at Wade, rolling his eyes. Agatha’s magic left him unimpressed. It was nothing new to him; he believed the entire production was underwhelming.

He didn’t fear witches. To him, they weren’t the formidable opponents they were made out to be—they were merely humans with tricks. And they bleed, just like humans.

But, like Agatha, he held his tongue and endured their partnership. He was no fool; he knew winning this war would not be easy.

And if Laney had a Voodoo Priestess on her side, it would make sense that the Broussards had the same power on their side. Their alliance was simply a means to an end.

Agatha began, “Mama Laveau’s protection spell is strong. It covers a large mass of land. This type of magic is too strong for her to control on her own. Wherever she is, there must be other witches with her. She must be getting help to harness her power.”

Antagonising her, Atticus said, “I thought you controlled the New Orleans witches.”

She glared at Atticus. “Then the witches helping Mama Laveau must not be from here.”

Feeling the tension, Wade said, “Agatha, you said the spell covers a specific area. So, if anyone were to leave that area, would the protection spell still be on them?”

She paused, her eyes still locked on Atticus. She wasn’t ready to surrender to their passive animosity. Atticus matched her glare, maintaining his stoic demeanour. His only movement was moving his toothpick to the other side of his mouth with his tongue.

Wade sternly asked, “Agatha! Will the spell still be on them?”

Agatha slowly turned her eyes to Wade, displaying a small, cynical smile. “No. If they leave the area, they forsake the spell’s protection.”

“Okay, we can work with that. Our plan now is to lure them out,” Wade said.

Atticus added, “There is no way Mama Laveau or anyone on that land would allow Laney to leave.”

Wade grinned menacingly, “We don’t have to get Laney to leave. All we need is one. One dumb wolf, human or witch – whoever they have helping them. All we need is one to leave, and then we can torture the location out of them.”

Atticus slowly nodded his head as he understood his brother’s plan. “Bobbette, Adonis, tell us what you know about June and Tom. What can we use against them?”

Eager to be useful, Bobbette said, “Their human friends – Tammy McDonald and Jimmy Welsh. If June and Tom thought they were in trouble, they would definitely come to protect them.”

Wade looked back at Agatha, “Then that’s what we do. We send the trio brothers to Lafayette, and they kidnap the humans. Preferably both, but I imagine one would suffice.”

It annoyed Agatha that she liked the wolves’ plan. She hated the feeling of them proving useful, even though she had put them to work for this very reason.

She was more interested in their brute strength as opposed to their strategic planning. However, she convinced herself that the plan was essentially her own since she was the one who organised this motley crew of witches and wolves.

Agatha had a knack for claiming credit for things she hadn’t actually done.

She responded, “Hilda will go with them. She will cast a spell on the parents, making them believe the kids are with friends. That way, the parents won’t report them as missing, and we can avoid more human interaction in this war.”

Atticus smirked, “Agatha, don’t tell me you fear the humans.”

Wade stepped in front of Atticus. “That’s a smart play. Just give us an hour. When we return, the boys will be ready to leave.”

Wade turned and whistled at the younger wolves, motioning his head upstairs. They obeyed, and Atticus followed, but not before he gave Agatha one last hostile glare.

Slamming her hands on the table, Agatha screeched, “Hilda!”

Hilda leapt from the floor, bowed and said, “Yes, High Priestess.”

Agatha turned around, “You hover too much, Hilda, and you’re too quiet. I’m thinking about putting a bell around your neck.”

“Yes, High Priestess, whatever you want.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Hilda, take this potion. All you have to do is blow the dust in the human’s face, recite the incantation, and once they are asleep, tell them the memory you want them to wake up with.”

“And what memory do you want them to have?” Hilda asked sheepishly.

Flailing her arms in the air, Agatha shouted, “Do I have to think of everything myself? Tell them it’s a summer school trip or a camping trip – I don’t know what human children do! Think for yourself, for once, Hilda!”

Hilda bowed as she exited the room. “Yes, High Priestess. Understood, High Priestess.”

Hilda was consumed by deep insecurity. She forever wore her long, silky, jet-black hair loose, letting it drape over her shoulders to conceal the scars on her neck.

No matter the sweltering heat, she constantly donned black gloves that stretched past her elbows—another shield for her scars.

When Hilda was thirteen, her ambition led her to attempt a spell far beyond her skill level. The spell backfired disastrously, erupting into a flame that engulfed her body’s upper half.

If Agatha hadn’t walked in at that crucial moment, the fire would have reached her face, possibly claiming her life. With a single word, Agatha extinguished the fire.

From that day forward, Hilda was bound by a deep sense of loyalty to Agatha.

The fire left Hilda not only physically scarred but also crippled by self-doubt. Fear took root, eroding her confidence and leaving her unable to trust her own decisions.

Despite Agatha’s cruel treatment, Hilda believed she deserved no better. Though seven years have passed since the spell went awry, for Hilda, the memory is as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

The trio brothers were waiting for Hilda outside the covenstead. Being the charmer that he is, Ethan wrapped his arm around Hilda’s shoulders.

“Hilda, you can ride up front with me. Don’t want you crammed in the back with one of these filthy wolves,” Ethan winked.

Nervously flattening her hair against her neck, she scrunched her shoulders, moving away from Ethan’s arms. “It’s fine either way.”

Ethan opened the SUV’s door, gesturing for Hilda to climb in. He closed the door, revealing Joey and Philip standing with wrinkled foreheads and crossed arms.

“Filthy? Can’t you flirt without insulting us,” Philip said, annoyed.

Ethan grinned, “Where’s the fun in that?”

They set off for Lafayette, confident in their plan and unfazed by the thought of traumatising Jimmy and Tammy. After all, they were just humans.