Tundra Witch Read online

  Published by Hot Ink Press

  The right of Chad Dennis and SL Perrine to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him/her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it was published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover Design by

  Mayhem Designs

  Edited by:

  EAL Editing Services

  Published by:

  Hot Ink Press LLC

  Copyright© 2018 Chad Dennis and SL Perrine

  All rights reserved.

  Acknowledgments

  Chad Dennis-

  My children - Brittany, David, Derek, Devany, and Drake. You all inspire me every day with your words, deeds, shenanigans, and the continuation of the Dennis insanity-filled bloodline! You’re all heroes in my eyes and I love you all!

  Gerald – My best friend that’s been offering sound advice for years while helping me through the crazy times and assisting in the occasional recalibration of my moral compass instead of helping me to bury bodies! Even though we have a place to hide the bodies… I love you, brother!

  Traci – What could I possibly say about you that you don’t already know? You’re the female version of me only better looking and I never have to choose words with you because, like me, you hate sugar coated bullshit. Thank you for always keeping it real with me even when I don’t always want to hear the hardnosed truth sometimes. I love you, chica!

  S.L Perrine - For all the hours spent bitching at me to write, allowing me to bounce ideas off you at all hours of the day and night, and taking the time out of your own hectic writing schedule to co-author Tundra Witch together. I’m looking forward to continuing our writing marriage!

  Melissa – For all the unfaltering love, support, and encouragement that you give me daily, of which I am undeserving. Thank you for contributing so much to my life! I love you!

  S.L. Perrine

  My children – Alex, Zach, Jon and Chloe. You are the guiding light of this journey. I have and will continue to do everything with you in mind. I don’t just want your respect, I want to make you proud to call me mum.

  My mother – I promise to never write a car manual. So you will always be able to read what I write. Thank you for being proud of me. It’s all I ever wanted.

  Tina – Thank you for never making me feel like a lesser friend. For all the hours I had to devote to writing, you could have given up on me like the rest, but you have always been there. You reach out when nobody else does. I love you.

  Chad Dennis – Thank you for asking me to continue to be in your life. We may have never met in real life, but you have been a great friend throughout the years. I will continue to be your author wife as long as you will have me. Working with you is always entertaining.

  Howard – You have always made sure I have what I need to get my books done. You have given me space and time and put up with every one of my characters. I love you and will always remember your dedication to me and my work.

  Chapter 1

  The park was full. Not really that surprising with the beautiful summer day gracing New Jersey. The man draped casually across the bench, which was conveniently situated along the trail, drew in a breath letting his eyes roam about the scenery. They alight momentarily upon two lovers lounging on a blanket. Their animated gestures, musical laughter, and adoration filled caresses hold his attention. When they share a kiss, his lips turn up in an envy hued smile, and he continues his perusal of the park.

  An older man and his wife are amusing themselves and their collie with a tennis ball. The dog chases after the thrown ball with the extreme exuberance that only a happy canine has, his rapture complete with doggie smile and flying ears with each run. A young boy is drowning worms in the park’s small pond with the hope of hooking a fish while his parents eat fast food from a bag nearby. They occasionally cajole him to have a bite, but his attention refuses to waiver.

  It is the group of college kids playing with a Frisbee that continually draws the man’s attention. They have taken up position on the lawn directly in front of the thicket of trees that he wishes to enter. Of course, he could walk over there and move amongst the trees, but someone would inevitably become curious about what he was doing; and that would not do. Not that he was going to do anything illegal; he just did not want anyone walking into the middle of his ritual. A ritual sorely needed to assure his future.

  Anthony looked past his expansive stomach to the green, military duffel bag lying between his feet while his pudgy fingers smoothed his shirt. The duffel held everything he owned after the sale of his father’s estate to pay off the family debt. Adding insult to injury was the loss of his job brought about by the hours spent in the caretaking of his father and improperly filed leave papers. Events after his father’s funeral had drained every penny of his 401K and resulted in having to sell his car.

  The sinking sun causes the shadows to expand their grasping reach while indicating the closure to the day’s playing. A sigh escapes Anthony’s lips while he waits for the kids to clear off with the approaching darkness. Anthony, ever a patient man, desired to perform this ritual in the daylight, decides to take direct action.

  Closing his eyes, he draws in a long breath and holds the air in his chest before softly exhaling the words of his spell. With the last bit of air at the end of his words, Anthony opens his eyes and gently blows towards the Frisbee leaving the hand of one of the college kids. The wind catches and draws it up, away from the group. They stop to watch as it disappears across the park.

  “Good going, Justin.” One of the girls calls out to the young man who threw the disc.

  Justin waves a hand in the direction the Frisbee disappeared. “I didn’t throw it that hard, Emily,” he answers with an annoyed tone.

  “Well, it’s gone now.” Another girl interjects.

  “Come on, it’s getting dark anyway.” A dark-haired boy observes as he leads in gathering their belongings.

  The others follow his example, and they wander off leaving the way clear for Anthony. He jumps to his feet; a move that someone seeing him would decide was surprisingly agile for a man of his girth. Picking up his duffel bag, Anthony crosses the trail into the grass; making his way to the tree line. He slips under the canopy of nature and follows a small animal trail a short distance before breaking off to enter a clearing.

  Inside, he squats and shakes some items out of his bag before setting the duffel out of the way. Kicking off his shoes, Anthony removes his socks and stuffs them down inside his boots. A grin splits his face while wiggling his bare toes in the lush grass as the contact with the earth begins pulling energy into his body. Once the power has reached capacity within him, he points at the ground and rotates his finger several times.

  A small tornado forms and begins to grow larger as Anthony continues the motion. As the whirlwind increases in size, it strips the grass, leaves, and debris from the ground in an ever-enlarging circle. The outer wall of the whirlwind becomes opaque as it fills with debris and the wind tugs at his clothing causing it to ruffle and snap. After a few minutes have elapsed, Anthony makes a negligent gesture with his hand, and the whirlwind falls apart. A smooth, perfect circle of dirt remains as the debris from the tornado falls around its perimeter.

  Picking up a small but thick pentacle of silver, Anthony holds it gently with his thumbs, middle fingers, and palms encircling its outer edges. With a slight exertion of power, he slowly pulls outward and expands
the size of the pentacle like resizing the screen of a cell phone. The metal lines forming the pentacle thin out the more significant it grows until it is the width of the dirt circle. Judging the object to match the size of the ring on the ground, he releases the metal symbol and floats it down to verify it fits appropriately. Satisfied with his work he allows the pentacle to drop onto the clearing aligned with the cardinal directions.

  Picking up the rest of his items he walks into the circle and places them on the points of the pentacle associated with his needs and desires. A picture of his family next to Water to aid with his need to heal from the burden of death. The last hundred-dollar bill he owns rests upon the point of Earth for wealth and abundance while a small, plastic, red heart sits near Fire as foci for passion, inspiration, and creativity. At the point for Air, he places a picture of himself to act as a symbol for much-needed change in his life.

  When his focus items are situated, he kneels in the center, closes his eyes, and begins to ground and center himself while drawing in more power from the earth. When the calm he seeks washes through him he reaches out and touches the outer circle of the pentacle while releasing a small amount of energy. A wall of protection snaps into place around him and blocks out all sound from the outside world. He takes another few minutes to focus his intent as the magic swells inside the circle.

  Once his hair is sticking straight off his head, Anthony knows the time to release his spell is near. He holds his focus until his entire body is humming and feeling as if it is about to fly apart in a million molecules. When the energy surpasses his pain threshold, Anthony acts.

  Throwing his head back while stretching out his arms he looks to the sky. “Lord and Lady, work your will upon my life in harmony with the needs and desires of my heart,” he forces through clenched teeth before reaching down and breaking the edge of the circle.

  The energy within the circle explodes outward ruffling the grass, leaves, branches, and trees with its passing. Anthony collapses within the circle and lies there breathing heavily. After catching his breath, he rolls to sit on his butt feeling alive, upbeat, confident, and full of energy. Spellwork always has that effect on him.

  Stretching out he grabs his shoes and socks and pulls them on. He is gathering up his things when a scream nearby splits the air. Freezing in place, Anthony strains to hear where it came from. The faint sounds of men chuckling and talking in muted voices come to him from off to the right. Muffled screams, as if a hand was covering a mouth to quiet the sound, punctuate the other noises. Without thinking Anthony races towards the struggle and in a few moments, he is at the source of the sounds.

  Appearing from the trees, Anthony finds two large, rough looking men holding a young girl who is about ten years old, between them. Her clothes hang in tatters on her body. The girl’s eyes go wide when she sees him, and she redoubles her effort to scream and talk. The man holding her legs releases them and turns to face Anthony.

  “Wrong place, wrong time, fat boy,” the thug snarls as a knife magically appears in his hand.

  “Let her go. We’ll leave and not say a word about this to anyone,” Anthony replies with a soft, soothing voice while holding his hands up before him.

  “Ya hear that Monster?” the man says to the other thug while gesturing at Anthony with the tip of his knife. “Fat ass here thinks he’s a hero.”

  The man called Monster chuckles as the little girl squirms in his grasp. “Kill `im, Blaze. Teach `im about sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong,” he urges.

  “Whadaya think about that, tubby?” Blaze asks as he advances on Anthony. “Wanna find out what’s waiting for ya in the afterlife?”

  “I have to warn you, Blaze,” Anthony intones using the thug’s name. “I’m not entirely defenseless.”

  Blaze’s head rocks back, and his eyebrows shoot up. “Ya got a gun in one of them pockets?”

  “No, but what I’m packing will hurt you, nonetheless,” Anthony replies as blue and white energy crackles across the fingertips of his right hand.

  “Looky here, Monster! Fat boy issa magician.” Blaze says while continuing his advance.

  “Last chance, Blaze.”

  Blaze leers evilly and lunges forward with his knife leading the way. Anthony steps aside to avoid the blade and drops his hand on Blaze’s shoulder. The thug stiffens as if hit by a taser and shakes intermittently as Anthony releases him and steps toward Monster. The sound of a large body hitting the ground comes from behind him, but Anthony never takes his eyes off Monster.

  “Go ahead and keep comin,’ lard ass. I’ll snap her neck like a twig,” he threatens while wrapping a large hand around the little girl’s throat.

  “You’re a total bad ass, aren’t you, Monster,” Anthony mocks. “I bet killing and raping little girls is what earned you that name, isn’t it?”

  “Keep talkin’ shit, hero. I’ll rip yer arms outta their sockets and beat ya to death with the bloody ends.”

  “Why don’t you let the girl go, and we see if you’re man enough to do that because I smell bitch,” Anthony taunts.

  Monster throws the little girl aside. She hits the ground in a heap as the thug charges, his face a twisted visage of rage. Anthony tries to repeat his earlier action with Blaze on Monster, but the thug is too perceptive. He steps aside at the last moment and rifles a brutal right at Anthony’s jaw from his exposed side. The fist connects, and lights sparkle before Anthony’s eyes. His legs are like rubber as he staggers away from Monster.

  “What’s tha matter, Hero? Where’s yer fuckin’ stun gun now?” Monster asks as he launches another fist at Anthony.

  The punch connects above Anthony’s left eye and splits the skin. Blood flows into his eye and partially obscures his sight. Still reeling from the previous blow, Anthony tries to wipe the blood from his eye as Monster lands another punch in his stomach. Air explodes out of his mouth in a rush, and Anthony falls to his knees struggling to regain his breath. The thug drives the bottom of his boot into Anthony’s chest and destroys any hope of catching more than small gulps of air as he falls onto his back.

  “Ya ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, are ya, piggy,” Monster states as he bends down and pries the knife away from Blaze’s clutched hand, then turns back to Anthony. “I’m gonna carve yer heart out through that fat gut of yers. I’m gonna learn ya good why they call me Monster.”

  Gasping for air, Anthony crawls on his back away from the advancing thug. He realizes that he will not be able to get to his feet before Monster attacks him again as his hand lands on a large stone partially buried in the earth. Thinking quickly, he grasps the stone and draws its essence into his body as Monster falls on his supine form and stabs with the knife. The blade hits the skin of his stomach and breaks at the tang. The broken metal tears through Monster’s hand making him howl in pain and anger.

  The thug tries to stand while cradling his wounded hand and Anthony wraps a palm around Monster’s ankle. In desperation, he sends every bit of energy stored in his body through his hand into Monster’s frame. The large man stiffens with a clenched jaw and wide eyes as he falls like a tree felled by a lumberjack. Anthony struggles to get up as he hears more men approaching but his body will not respond. When he sees the uniform of several police officers, he gives up and passes out. When his eyes flutter open again several minutes later, he finds himself staring into the kindly eyes of an EMT.

  “Hey! There you are,” the man says in a soothing voice as he peels a blood pressure cuff off his bicep. “Thought we were going to lose you there for a minute,” he says as he lays a restraining hand on Anthony’s chest when he tries to sit up.

  “The little girl.” Anthony manages to croak.

  The EMT looks away for a moment and then back at Anthony. “She’s going to be fine. You did a brave thing here.” He says with a smile.

  “Stupid,” Anthony croaks again as he discreetly lays his palm on the ground and draws energy from the earth into his body.

  The EMT’s smile
grows larger. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the definition of bravery.”

  As strength flows into his limbs, Anthony tries to sit up again, but the EMT continues to hold him down. “What do you mean you thought you were going to lose me?”

  “Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen.” The EMT answers with a bewildered shake of his head. “Your entire body was cold, hard, and rigid as solid stone. You weren’t breathing, and we couldn’t find a pulse. I lifted your arm to put the cuff on, and you just went limp; began breathing normal and your heart started again.”

  Anthony nods and the EMT thinks it is an acknowledgment of his explanation.

  “Stupid,” Anthony says to himself. “You could have died as a stone if the EMT hadn’t moved your hand.” Then aloud, “I’m feeling better now. Help me up?”

  “Just relax. We’re going to take you to the hospital, get some fluids in you, and keep you on observation for the night. I put a butterfly on that cut over your eye, but I’m sure it could use a stitch or three.”

  “Really, I’m fine.” Anthony insists as he gently pulls the EMT’s hand off his chest and sits up. “Besides, I don’t have any insurance. I recently lost my job.” The EMT reluctantly helps him to his feet.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to be fine.”

  “Well, okay, but I’ll need you to sign a few forms.” He says before nodding towards a couple of police officers who were leading Monster and Blaze away in handcuffs. “And I think they’re going to want a statement from you.”

  Anthony nods and walks toward an officer kneeling beside the little girl. A tall, dark-haired beauty in high heels wearing a red dress-suit tailored to accentuate her curves turns to look at him. At first, the gaze from her emerald green eyes is hard and fixed; but it softens momentarily as she steps forward with her hand out.