Tundra Witch Read online

  “I don’t know how I can ever thank you for saving my daughter,” she says as Anthony catches her hand in his.

  “Is she alright?”

  The woman throws a look over her shoulder at her daughter as she answers. “A little shaken, but she’s alive and relatively unharmed, thanks to you.”

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Moretti,” an officer interrupts as he approaches. “I have some questions for this man.”

  “Certainly, officer.” She agrees with a bob of her head before turning her attention back to Anthony and handing him a card. “If I can ever do anything to repay you, please let me know.”

  Anthony glances at the card and then back to the retreating woman.

  “Quite the stunner, eh? Sofia Vergara, eat your heart out,” the officer says quietly for their benefit as he watches Mrs. Moretti over his shoulder.

  Ignoring the officer’s remark Anthony asks, “What do you need from me, officer?”

  “Just your personal information and a statement about what happened here,” he replies as he opens his notebook to a clean page. He juts his chin in the direction they’re putting the two thugs in cruisers. “I think these are the men we’ve been looking for in connection to multiple rapes and murders in the area.” He gives Anthony the once over before saying, “You’re certainly more than you appear, mister.”

  “I’m just an ordinary man who stumbled into an unordinary situation,” Anthony replies.

  “Yeah, but few people survive situations like this and live to tell about it. Especially out of…” the officer trails off as he realizes what he was about to say.

  Anthony chuckles softly. “Out of shape guys like me?” he finishes.

  The officer looks sheepish, “I didn’t mean any offense, but you don’t look like a brawler.”

  “Yeah, I agree, but I can be an absolute terror if someone tries to steal my donuts,” Anthony replies with an easy grin.

  The officer chuckles and relaxes, “Touché. No one likes having their donuts stolen, sir.”

  As Anthony gives his statement to the police, Mrs. Moretti and her daughter walk over and listen to his telling of events. He provides the officer with his personal information and recounts everything truthfully; except what he was doing in the park and how he managed to beat the two men. After a while, the officer feels he has everything he needs and leaves in search of a stun gun that Anthony seemed to have lost in the altercation. As Anthony turns to leave Mrs. Moretti stops him.

  “Mr. Jackson?”

  Anthony turns to the woman, “Yes, Mrs. Moretti?”

  “My daughter wishes to speak with you,” she says before introducing the young girl. “This is Mila.”

  Anthony kneels and offers his hand. “Hello, Mila.”

  The girl is quiet for a moment, timidly looking at Anthony. He cannot help but notice that she is a miniature carbon copy of her mother in her features. He is surprised when the little girl flings herself at him and wraps her arms around his neck.

  “Thank you for saving me, Mr. Jackson,” she says in Anthony’s ear.

  He wraps her in a return hug and replies. “It was my deepest honor, Mila.”

  The two hold each other for a moment before Mila squirms out of his arms. “Is it true; what you told the policeman?” she inquires.

  “I would never lie to a police officer. Besides, you were there. You know how it happened.”

  “I mean the part about your dad dying, losing your job, and having no place to live?”

  “Unfortunately, Mila, it’s all true. I’ve had a rough few months.”

  Mila turns to her mother. “Mamma, can Mr. Jackson be my new nanny?” she asks.

  Mrs. Moretti looks shocked for a moment. “I don’t know if… I mean, I don’t think your father… I’m sure Mr. Jackson doesn’t want…” she stutters.

  “What your mother is trying to say is that being a nanny isn’t in my personal skill set,” Anthony states to cover Mrs. Moretti’s fumble.

  Mrs. Moretti flashes him a quick smile of gratitude before Mila says, “Of course it is. You’ve already proven that you’ll do everything you can to protect me. And you need a job and a place to live, right Mamma?” she fixes her mother with green puppy dog eyes.

  Mrs. Moretti is silent for a few heartbeats then asks, “Would you be agreeable to such a position, Mr. Jackson?”

  Anthony takes a few minutes to ponder the situation until he thinks of his recently worked spell to give him a new direction in life. Mila seals his contemplation.

  “Please?” she drags the word out plaintively.

  “If you like, the job is yours, Mr. Jackson,” Mrs. Moretti states resolutely.

  “I’ll take it, if it’s agreeable to you and your husband, Ma’am.”

  “Please, call me Gianna,” she instructs while taking another card from her purse and writing something on the backside before handing it to Anthony. “Present yourself to this address at seven a.m. sharp tomorrow and the job is yours.”

  “Thank you, Gianna.”

  “Our pleasure,” she replies taking Mila’s hand in hers. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Anthony looks at the address on the back of the card before sliding it into his pocket. A sense of relief washes over him as he realizes that his spell was a success, a job and a place to live in one fell swoop. The Lord and Lady always provide. His smile is one of gratitude as he signs the EMT’s refusal of treatment papers. The man praises Anthony again for his heroism, shakes his hand, and returns to packing up his gear.

  “There was a time in my life that I could have saved that little girl while not having my ass handed to me in the process or dealing with all this rigmarole,” Anthony says to himself as he looks at his belly. He gives it a disgusted pinch and a shake. “Another lifetime ago…”

  The responders begin to clear out of the park. Anthony waits around for another half hour until everyone is gone and night has fully set in. Then, he makes his way back to the clearing where he performed his ritual. As he gathers up his personal belongings and puts them in his duffel, a lone thought slips in his mind.

  “How am I going to get cleaned up enough to present myself to the Moretti’s in the morning?”

  Chapter 2

  She turned her back for a minute…not even a minute really, just long enough to glance in the direction of a Norse God jogging by. Mila wandered off and disappeared before Gianna saw her move. Anger welled in her chest at the thought of those huge men abducting her ten-year-old daughter. Thinking of how terrified her daughter must have been, her anger rose again. With nobody else in the car, she turned it toward her child.

  “Thank goodness that man was there, and able to get you back for me. How many times have I told you not to wander away?”

  “Sorry,” Mila put her head down while shifting against the leather seat.

  “Stop being sorry, Mila. Do as your told.” Gianna seethed. “Then, to put me on the spot like that. Hiring a nanny. I don’t know what has gotten into you.” The look on her daughter’s face was enough to cool her temperament. “A Manny. I never thought I’d have one of those.”

  “Sorry, mamma. I just thought we should help him for helping us. Isn’t that what you teach me?”

  “How do you do that?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, I’m just talking is all.” Mila squirmed again while fixing her mother with an innocent glare, her smirk betraying her.

  “Well, talking or doing, you're trying too hard at being cute again, and I’m upset. Stop that.” Gianna turned, so she was looking out the window instead of into her daughter’s knowing eyes.

  All the best tutors, teachers, and nannies, and Gianna found the girl sounded increasingly like her father every day. She was, however, blessed with her mother’s beauty. The hair ties must have come loose in the altercation. Dark spun curls lay around her face in a cascade of shadows. Her clothes were torn while dirt and grass stuck to her bare legs. Some had fallen inside the car, covering the white upholstery.
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  When the car stopped outside of the large manor, Gianna cringed. As tough as she was with her daughter, Gianna’s husband was more so on her. He would spin any story she gave him to make the entire occurrence Gianna’s fault. Though, in this instance, it was her fault. He had told her time again not to take her eyes off the child, not for a second. If Giovanni Moretti loved anyone more than himself, it was Mila.

  Gianna shifted in her seat to turn on her daughter. “I want you to run right up to your room. Have Sarah draw a bath for you and get in right away. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’re not telling papa?”

  “I will tell your father what I need him to know. Mind your Q’s.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The door opened, Mila clambered out of the car and ran up the front steps; hopefully going straight to her room. Gianna stepped out of the car. Each red heel hit the blacktop with authority, befitting the wife of thee top rated lawyer in New Jersey. She keeps her head high, and her shoulders squared, not letting her outward appearance show the drain the day’s activities had on her. Or the fact that her insides were at war, not wanting to go into that house.

  Entering the Manor always took a breath of air out of her. She admired the tiled floors in the entry. A large white banister led upstairs. Gianna could hear the flow of water from the tap in her daughter’s bathroom. A door slammed, and she flinched before smoothing her hands over her blouse. She discarded her shoes at the side of the stairs. Having been in them for sixteen hours, it was a welcome relief. Once she filled her husband in, she would retreat to her room for a soak in her giant clawfoot tub.

  Gianna moved through the house, her hand touching down on the table in the hall. Inspecting herself in the mirror hanging above, she was aghast at her appearance. Gianna straightened her shirt on her shoulders, smoothed her long raven curls with her hands, and pinched her cheeks between her thumb and index fingers. How that worked, she had no idea, but she looked refreshed. Even more so than using a spell to glamour herself. That, however, was something Giovanni would see through; and he would deduce too much from her use of magic.

  Giovanni Moretti worked hard for his family. His schooling as a lawyer brought them the life he never knew growing up. It made Giovanni prideful and driven to ensure he was Gianna’s, and everyone else's better, in every way. Even amongst the magic community, he was more proficient than others. When life and circumstance threw them together for marriage; her tutelage in the simplest of spells began under his direction. There was nothing he could not see through or outwit. Though, she had not tried to trick him in a very long time. She was what others would call a ‘trained’ wife.

  Before she interrupted his work, Gianna stood in front of the mirror a few moments longer. She reached out to see the future. An ability, once leisurely, now defied her attempts. It was as if her powers were waning. She wished to see what giving a vagabond access to their home and daughter would do to them. Would he even be good at being a Manny? Was he qualified in the least? The ability, once again, was beyond her grasp. Abruptly, strangely aloof, she allowed her shoulders to slump and took a moment to worry.

  No, she had to go into her husband’s study with assurance. Her daughter liked the man, and that would have to be good enough for now. With the recent loss of her nanny, Gianna could not look this gift horse in the mouth.

  She straightened herself once again and forced herself toward the back of the house. The massive Manor was Giovanni’s idea. He had said there would come a time when they would need their own separate space. He was not kidding. After twelve years of marriage, they not only had isolated wings of the house but separate bedrooms, which did not bother Gianna in the least.

  Rounding the corner, soft voices carried through the hall coming from the study. It was much too warm for the hearth, but she could see the crackling fire glow beyond the partly closed door. When she looked in, she threw a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.

  In the room, battered with heat and color from the tenor of the fire and a small dim lamp, were two figures; one was her husband, Giovanni Moretti. The other had been his assistant for the last ten years. Matteo was more than that really; Gianna had considered him a part of the family. She watched as both men stood in front of the fire. She had not noticed they were naked until Giovanni moved a hand against Matteo’s back, rubbing from his neck to his waist. The man kneeled in front of the fire with Giovanni’s touch.

  The movement sent shivers down Gianna’s spine. She was both repulsed and curious at what was happening. When her husband’s hands rubbed the length of Matteo’s body, she went still. Stopping at the man hips, Giovanni stroked the length of himself. He was fully erect and sheathed; his fingers applied a generous amount of lubrication to the tip of his cock before he placed it behind the man in front of him. Sweat trickled down their bodies, and Gianna wanted to scream in protest but forced herself to remain silent. She still watched as her husband moved Matteo’s cheeks apart. He slid his cock into the man’s ass slowly and moved his hand to Matteo’s hips, pulling him back to meet him, taking the length of him.

  Gianna moved back from the door and sank to the floor. What would she do? What could she do? She had always thought her husband was having an affair. How many young couples slept in separate rooms? She knew it was not unheard of but, as far as she could recall, they had not slept in the same bed for the last six. Sex had been absent between them for just as long. Giovanni had boasted he was not capable of maintaining an erection and the pills his doctor had given him weren’t working. She had experienced it on more than one occasion, his dick going soft midstride.

  Quickly she pulled her phone from the pocket along the side of her suit and turned back to the opening. After ensuring the volume on her phone was on mute, she snapped several pictures. Then, placing the phone back in her pocket, she picked herself up from the floor.

  Her private space was located on the third floor. She grabbed her shoes and climbed the stairs while thinking of her own hidden sanctuary. She was sure Giovanni knew of its existence, but he’d never made the trek up the stairs to enter it. Not that he could. She may have been a novice when they married, but no longer. Spells and enchantments sealed the door from unwanted individuals entering. Even her daughter could not cross the threshold unless Gianna were present.

  She made her way to her bedroom on the second floor first. Her dress suit hit the lush cream carpet as soon as she moved away from the door. Her bra and panties were next as she rounded the large, king-size, four-post bed. The prodigious clawfoot tub was calling to her when she stepped into her private bathroom. Though she very much wanted to soak away the day, she opted for the harsh beat of the shower. Once finished, she dressed in a dark crimson robe and left the room, climbing the remaining staircase to her little hideaway.

  The room was small, just large enough for a solitary witch. Herbs and candles lay about in a way that only she defined as organized. The small altar in the center of the room held a large, black, leather-bound book. Much like those seen on TV, but more fragile. Gianna used a single fingertip to turn each page. Not knowing what she was looking for, her eyes grow wide when she finds it. The paper falls in tune with her robe. A sweeping motion of her hand and the robe hangs itself on a hook beside the door.

  A pestle and bowl lay on a nearby table. The design of Gianna’s room ensured everything was in reach of her altar. Hops, Rue, and St. John’s Wart went into the bowl and she gives a quick grind with the pestle. Gianna lights a match and sets fire to the herbs. Flame momentarily engulfs the contents before receding until smoldering ash emits a pungent smoke.

  Gianna sits cross-legged and places her palms up on her knees. She breathes deep as the smoke fills her lungs stealing the anxiety that has insinuated itself throughout her body. The release of tension brings relief, her body becomes languid. Images of Anthony Jackson swarm her mind in flashes. She can almost feel his dark hair in her hand. His blue eyes make her swoon, if even for a second. Her body neede
d a release. She had no other to think of and allowed the images of Anthony to fill her mind.

  With that thought, she moved her hands to massage up the length of her thighs. The man was overweight, and quite possibly out of shape, but he had strength. He must have a considerable amount of power to take out two men so significant, right? She could almost feel his hands touching her, though she knew very well that they were her own. She arched her back, her hair falling from the tie, so it caressed her body.

  A knock on a door downstairs made her snap back to reality too soon. She sighs and, collecting her senses, puts the lid on the bowl while covering herself with the robe she calls from the hook to her hand with a gesture. Gianna pauses outside the room to replace the wards and heads downstairs to find Mila at her bedroom door.

  “I’m here.”

  The girl turned around. Her hair still wet from her bath and tucked into a braid for bed. “Sorry, mom. I didn’t mean to disturb you. Were you meditating?”

  “Yes, but I was finished.”

  “Had you a chance to think about Jax?”

  “Jax?”

  “Yes, I’ve decided it’s a nice nickname for my Manny. Anthony is so boring.”

  “Child, you are too much…” She wanted to finish that sentence with, ‘like your father,’ but she kept it silent. “You may want to get his opinion on that first.”

  “Oh, I will. It’ll be our first order of business. So, did you think of him? Is it okay that I offered him the job?”

  “Oh, I thought about him, alright, just not in any way you would appreciate.” Gianna thought to herself before answering aloud. “Yes, I’ve thought about it. It’s fine, for now. He can have a trial run before deciding upon anything permanent. We'll tell your father in the morning. He’s busy with work.” A flush moved to her cheeks; momentarily remembering what she had almost walked into. Confronting Mila’s father required clothing at the very least.