The Amber Lee Boxed Set

  I went to high school with him, and from the way he just spoke you would be forgiven for believing he was still in high school. Aaron pretty much shouldered the entire high school football team by himself. He was their rock. Back then he had pretty blue eyes, a conventionally hot body, and a carefully maintained dirty blond mane which fell to his shoulders; a look that remained even today, though he kept his hair shorter now. Aaron was also, however, a complete, full-of-himself, jackass; all that had changed since high school was the length of his hair.

  I rolled my eyes and paid no attention as they chuckled and walked past our table. Years of enduring the title of freak forced me to learn how to let the slings and arrows roll off me like water off a duck’s back, but Damien hadn’t quite developed the immunity I’d built to such treatment.

  “How’s it going, freak?” Aaron asked as he hovered over my table. It was clear that he was trying to get a rise out of me, but it wouldn’t work.

  “Let me see,” I said, not looking at him, “Tonight is Wednesday so I’m carbing up before I pay a visit to your girlfriend. She tells me I’m bigger, but I don’t think I know what she means.”

  “Must be hard to be a freak and a lesbian, huh?” he said into my ear. I wanted to bite his lip off!

  “Hey!” The Sheriff stood and closed in on Aaron. I likened the scene to a freight train hurtling toward a crook caught in the tracks—divine justice. “How about you leave the young lady alone and act your age?”

  “Sorry officer, we’re friends—I’m just teasing.”

  “Friends?” the Sheriff asked, raising an eyebrow toward me. The man towered above everyone else and commanded the room.

  “I don’t know what he’s talking about,” I said, grinning, “I don’t socialize with half-wits and inbreeds.”

  “Sit down and eat,” said the Sheriff, “I’ve been hearing you use the word freak since you were fifteen years old, and if I hear the word one more time so help me God I will kick your ass.”

  I’m sure everyone in the room understood the seriousness in the Sheriff’s voice, but the snickering was instant. Aaron clenched his jaw. He nodded and rejoined his pack on the other side of the room, away from us.

  “Sorry about that,” I said to Damien.

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Damien said, sipping his diet coke to avoid looking like he wanted to kill someone. “Did something happen with you two for him to act like that?”

  “I dated his best friend. We broke up pretty badly a while ago, but I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  I glanced at Aaron and caught him looking back, but he immediately averted his eyes. Joe, carrying two large plates, broke the awkwardness at our table with his jolly presence. Before me he laid a large round slab with the tastiest looking pizza I ever saw. My mouth watered. Damien didn’t expect such a large helping of fries to come with a burger which already looked big enough to feed the State.

  “Enjoy,” said Joe, “Let me know if you guys need anything else. And, uh, don’t pay no mind to that boy, alright?”

  I nodded and sent Joe back to the kitchen with a smile and a wave. I had more important things on my mind, like the dilemma between wolfing down a slice of pizza—my first real meal of the day—and trying to be ladylike. But the decision didn’t linger in my mind. In a few moments my fingers were dripping with delicious tomato sauce, and any semblance of manners flew out the window.

  “Good?” Damien asked, lathering a French fry in barbecue sauce and eating it.

  I swallowed. “Good. Food’s always really good here.” I wiped the side of my mouth with a paper towel. “So, why’d you leave San Francisco? Don’t like big cities?”

  “I heard this school was good.”

  “It is. I think you made a good choice. How’d your girlfriend take it?”

  “How did you know I had a girlfriend?”

  “Just a hunch,” I said, smiling.

  “We’re trying to work things out. Long distance relationships are always tough and we’ve never gone through something like this before, but so far it’s working out.”

  “Good for you.”

  Of course he was in a relationship. There was the catch.

  When we finished our meal we ordered a few cupcakes Joe’s wife had made for the restaurant and split the bill. Aaron and his group wouldn’t normally let me go without throwing another comment my way, but the Sheriff’s presence served as a blocker for any abuse they were thinking of hurling at me. Rain doesn’t bother me, but having an umbrella beats getting wet any day of the week.

  Damien and I walked to the end of the street together where he had parked his car.

  “Do you need a ride?” he asked.

  “No, I’m used to walking.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s fine,” I said, smiling.

  “Well, before you go,” he said, “I’ve got something I think you should read.”

  Damien handed me a small, black book with nothing written into the spine or the cover, only a five pointed pentacle decorated with symbols I thought were familiar but couldn’t identify. I opened the book to the first page. The pages were thick parchment and the ink seemed to have come from a feather quill or a fountain pen rather than a computer.

  “The True Witch,” I said.

  “It’s good, and I think everything that’s happened in your life until now will make a lot more sense once you’ve read it.”

  “Well with a tag line like that I don’t see how I wouldn’t read this book.”

  Damien smiled.

  “Thanks, Damien,” I said. “So, I’ll see you in class?”

  “Not if I see you under the sycamore first.”

  I blushed and paused for a moment. There we were, on a street corner, both well fed and flushed from the warmth of the restaurant, happy with the conversation we had shared. Oh crap, had I stumbled into a date? Was he expecting a… kiss now? Yes he was. Wasn’t he? What was that written on his face?

  His awkward face.

  But… wait, no. He had a girlfriend. This wasn’t a date. Shit! How could I have thought this was a date?

  “Okay, so… I’ll see ya,” he said, and then he turned around and walked off.

  “Wow,” I said to myself once he was out of earshot. “That could have gone better, now couldn’t it?”

  Chapter Ten

  I was right to hurry home. The steadily growing hiss of rain falling on trees and cars followed me down the street, erupting into a full on roar just as I stepped into my house. I shook the drizzle out of my hair and settled at the kitchen table with a diet coke, a cupcake and The True Witch—the book Damien had just given me.

  The book was handwritten and intimate. I likened it to a Book of Shadows—a collection of a Wiccan’s research, spells, and impressions—but the content suggested the book contained fewer spells and more historical and theological knowledge about a world I never realized existed.

  “To be human is to be divine,” read the book, “All of humanity is gifted with the spark of Magick, a special connection to the central power which created the universe and everything within it. These Currents of Magick, named so by the way in which they act—pushing and pulling, waning and waxing—are all but invisible, but much like air, the Currents exist. The Currents are mysterious and uncaring, likened by many to a vast black ocean shrouded under a mantle of perpetual fog.

  Though humans are divine they cannot perceive the Currents, but they feel its effects. They are lost ships with no means of propulsion, given away to the whims of a force they cannot understand. A trained Witch, however, is a beacon in the dark capable of not only navigating these unforgiving Currents, but also manipulating the way they flow and affect our universe.

  Make no mistake. Magick is inherited by blood. As a Witch, you have what humans do not; the privilege and the burden of Magick. Through learning you will unlock the secrets only we know. I impart to you, dear reader, what I have learned so that you may make the world a be
tter place for all.”

  Magick is inherited by blood.

  The words struck me hard.

  Inherited by blood.

  I always thought my parents were totally ordinary and not at all interested in paganism, but when I got into Wicca my mom showed me she’d been Wiccan her whole life. My dad still didn’t much care about Religion but my mom had to hide her practices from him all the same. I never understood why and I never questioned it. Maybe I should have.

  When my folks moved out my mom left most of her trinkets and books behind up in the attic. A quick swish of a knife and a little unboxing revealed treasure troves filled with books I’d never read, crystal balls, wands, dream catchers, and semi-precious gems. I’d never opened the boxes because they weren’t my things. There’s a Wiccan tradition where you use things you’re given—like decks of cards, runes, and all that kind of stuff. All of these things my mom had kept in the boxes up in the attic, but I didn’t think I could use any of them because she hadn’t given them to me.

  I felt like a kid discovering presents under the tree only to learn they weren’t his.

  A car rolling into my drive stole my attention. I checked the time and opened the front door, anticipating my visitor’s arrival.

  “What’s up, freak?” Aaron asked.

  I stepped aside and hurried him in. “Do you really have to call me that in public?”

  “I thought you liked people not knowing about us.”

  “I do, but you don’t have to make a fucking show out of me in front of your friends.”

  “C’mon, it’s only to keep up appearances. You encouraged we act normal around each other in public.”

  A fucking hello is normal. Sweltering heat rose to my cheeks. I shoved my hands on my hips and shot him a look. “I don’t like it, okay? You embarrassed me in front of my friend.”

  “You’re one to talk about embarrassing. That Sheriff nearly tore me a new one because of what happened, and the guys will be joking about that girlfriend thing for ages even if I don’t actually have one. Think I’m happy about that?”

  “Well it serves you right. You should know better than to go over the top when I’ve got company.”

  Aaron bit his tongue. He wanted to say more, but he also wanted what he came for. His jaw clenched while he decided what to do. Then he advanced on me and took my slender waist in his arms, pulling me to him with such force he left me gasping. Before I could catch my breath he had pressed his lips against mine and we were locked into a deep kiss.

  Aaron was my guilty pleasure. I keep telling myself that I didn’t like alpha males but after all those years wasted on Kyle and now finding myself in this situation with Aaron I see inside of me a girl still yearning for bad boys.

  It all happened pretty suddenly. One night, after I broke up with Kyle, Aaron came to my place looking for him. He’d heard Kyle skipped town and demanded to know why I’d broken up with him in the first place. They were best friends. I explained my reasons, although Aaron defended his friend’s unfaithfulness tooth and nail. We fought for hours, then ripped each other’s clothes off and spent the entire night taking our frustrations out on our bodies. I’d already hurt Kyle greatly before fucking his best friend—over and over again—but I didn’t care. If hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, imagine how vicious a Witch can be.

  “Beer?” I asked, peeling myself off him and smiling.

  “Only if you’re having one too,” he said, following me into the kitchen.

  I opened the fridge and handed him a bottle of Budweiser. We clinked bottles and each took a swig.

  “How’ve you been?” I asked.

  “Stressed. This week can go and fuck itself.”

  I nodded. “Yup, it’s been pretty hectic for me too.”

  “All I’ve wanted to do all week is come and see you.”

  He wanted to come and see me. I had the power. This is what I liked about him. About this. “Me huh?” I asked, “Well you better cut it out with that freak business, or else.”

  “Hey, you got a dig in there too. Hit me square in the heart.”

  “Oh please, your type don’t have hearts—only another pair of balls.”

  Aaron laughed and spent a moment checking me out.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. You just look like a badass school girl.”

  “You like it?” I asked. “What do you like in particular?”

  His face twisted into a wolf-like grin. “Turn around.”

  I turned around and placed my hands on the kitchen counter. The gentle arch of my back caused my tartan skirt to ride up to the point where my bum peeked out from beneath the hem.

  Aarons’ dark silhouette came into view in the kitchen window in front of me. In the dim light I could only make out his nose, lips and teeth. I wiggled my hips for him, knowing how much it excited him, and smiled. His hand caressed the curve of my backside and came down on it like a paddle. A yelp escaped my lips at the sting and prickling numbness that followed.

  He lifted my skirt all the way up and took in the sight. I swear I caught him licking his lips. Then he peeled down my lacy black panties to about my thighs, spread my legs, grabbed a fistful of my hair and pushed my chest further against the counter. I closed my eyes and gripped onto the faucet with both hands, surrendering myself to him.

  SLAP.

  Electric fire rushed through me, exciting my sensitive areas. I smiled to myself. Then another spank came down on me, again on the same spot, the sting trailed by a million tiny kisses that nearly took my breath away. I gasped with the third slap on my other cheek.

  That’s enough.

  I turned around and we locked eyes. He advanced, pinning me against the kitchen counter with his chest. He took me in his arms and lifted me. I wriggled out of my panties and found his lips with mine, throwing myself onto him, allowing him into me—letting him have me so that I could have him.

  He was a jerk, no one denied the fact. Alpha males are usually pretty rough, and he wasn’t an exception to the rule. But Gods if I didn’t love the attention I got from him. Both Aaron and Kyle couldn’t wait for me to turn my back, but Aaron always made sure to be standing right behind me instead of sneaking around with other girls. I endured because Aaron was possibly the best fuck I’d ever had; and I’d never do any better. Besides, he was there. He was someone I got to enjoy as much as I wanted, whenever I wanted.

  When we finished, I lowered my skirt, grabbed my sweater, and pulled it on without bothering to find my underwear. Aaron, likewise, put his clothes on and, grinning at me from over his shoulder, cheekily finished his beer. He didn’t wash his face or hands, didn’t clean up after himself. He knew I liked him rough and dirty, and now he got to go home smelling like me.

  “Enjoyed that?” I asked from the other side of the kitchen, completely out of breath.

  “You’re worth the wait,” said Aaron.

  I sipped my beer. “I should hope so.”

  “I’m already looking forward to the next time you’re free.”

  “We’ll see about that. Maybe I’ll text you tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Alright, well, you better get the fuck out of here before someone sees your car in my drive.”

  “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” he said. Aaron took another cupcake and came toward me. For a moment I thought he was about to present the treat to me in a gesture of kindness I almost dreaded to receive, but instead he gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Catch ya later, freak,” he said before leaving with the cupcake in his hand.

  I sighed loudly, undressed again, and let myself melt under the warm, steamy jets of water pouring out of my shower head. Aaron always had a knack for being available when I needed him the most, and I needed him tonight. He was a good way to get Damien out of my system.

  Chapter Eleven

  A few days of relative normalcy passed after that night with Aaron. Business at the bookstore went on as it always had done, college work ke
pt my mind busy during on and off hours, and Evan, Eliza and I even made plans to head up to his family’s cabin on the weekend. Religion and Mythology kicked into high gear with essays, required reading. Infinitely long discussions about modern religion versus ancient religions, the Vatican, popes, and even an in-depth peer into Judaism happened during a single lecture!

  I couldn’t have been happier in class.

  But Damien wasn’t there, and I desperately wanted to invite him to the cabin with us. We were going to celebrate the Wiccan holiday of Mabon which was a type of Wiccan Thanksgiving, and there was of course the matter of the True Witch I wanted to talk to him about. And he had pulled a Harry Houdini on me for no apparent reason at all.

  It was Friday, after my last lecture, that I spied Damien in the hall. I zeroed in on him like a torpedo and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Hey stranger,” I said, smiling.

  Damien turned and smiled. “Hey.”

  “Finally caught you! I’ve been wanting to speak to you since the other day.”

  “Me too.”

  “Yeah I—wait, you too?”

  The hall filled with the sounds of other students passing by us, but I could hear him just fine. “I have something to show you if you have a second,” he said.

  “Now?”

  “Yeah, if you can? Seems like we’re both free.”

  “Sure, why not?”

  We walked off campus and down the winding stone paths twisting through Briar Park, toward the riverbank. All was quiet save for the birds and the gentle sighing of the trees. Low, white clouds blanketed the sky and a thin layer of mist meandered its way along the Geordie in the distance. Serene. Quiet. Haunting.

  “Are you okay?” Damien asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “That mark on your neck. Looks like a nasty bruise.”

  I flashed back to Aaron biting into my neck. At the time it hurt so good I didn’t care, but the bruise that remained was purple, yellow and nasty.

  “This? It’s nothing. I’m a klutz sometimes. I finished that book you gave me,” I said, unceremoniously changing the subject.