Witch Out of Water Read online

  Witch out of Water

  Kracken’s Hole Book 1

  J Thompson

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Copyright © 2020 by J Thompson

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  All rights reserved.

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  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

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  This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

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  The Author of this Book has been granted permission by Robyn Peterman to use the copyrighted characters and/or worlds created by Robyn Peterman in this book. All copyright protection to the original characters and/or worlds of the Magic and Mayhem series is retained by Robyn Peterman.

  Created with Vellum

  Forward

  Blast Off with us into the Magic and Mayhem Universe!

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  I’m Robyn Peterman, the creator of the Magic and Mayhem Series and I’d like to invite you to my Magic and Mayhem Universe.

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  What is the Magic and Mayhem Universe, you may ask?

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  Well, let me explain…

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  It’s basically authorized fan fiction written by some amazing authors that I stalked and blackmailed! KIDDING! I was lucky and blessed to have some brilliant authors say yes! They have written brand new stories using my world and some of my characters. And let me tell you…the results are hilarious!

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  So here it is! Blast off with us into the hilarious Magic and Mayhem Universe. Side splitting books by fantabulous authors! Check out each and every one. You will laugh your way to a magical HEA!

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  For all the stories, go to https://magicandmayhemuniverse.com/. Grab your copy today!

  And if you would like to read the book that started all the madness, Switching Hour is FREE!

  https://robynpeterman.com/switching-hour/

  Contents

  About the Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  About the Book

  Maeve Hummingbird Moonchild is the worst witch in her coven and struggles with even the smallest spell. With no friends but a pigeon, her life in London goes from bad to rock bottom when she is kicked out of her coven and forced to get a job.

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  When a Help Wanted ad leads her to a new life, she heads off with nothing but her sass and her winged friend.

  What else can she do?

  And Kracken’s Hole can’t be that bad—right?

  Chapter One

  London, UK. Within the shadows of London Bridge

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  “You open it, Marjory,” the old, croaky voice of Edith ordered.

  “Hell no! What if it explodes? I know full well you want my Neil Diamond collection, Edith. I am not that stupid,” Marjory answered, her voice equal in its huskiness.

  “Fine, you open it then, Babs,” Edith barked out again.

  “How about you kiss my tight tushy, Edith. You want to read it, then you open it,” Babs answered. The third sister’s croaky whisper was filled with defiance.

  The Knox sisters sounded as bad as they looked and smelled even worse. All three were gathered around a small table in the centre of their coven’s meeting room. That morning, an envelope had appeared. No one had seen who delivered it and no one had questioned its appearance. No one needed to.

  They knew who it had come from.

  The sinister three looked down at the cream envelope edged with gold. The missive hovered in the middle of the coffee table and vibrated with magic. It looked out of place within the dirty, dusty setting. Most witch hovels appeared dirty in an attempt to keep prying eyes out, but the Knox sisters actually enjoyed the dirt and revelled in the clutter.

  At over 200 years old, they ran the London Bridge coven with an iron fist. Most feared them and their archaic ways. With their love of torture and all things gory, they scared the crap out of anything paranormal, and most mortals only knew them in their nightmares.

  Nothing scared the Knox sisters. Well, except for one thing—or rather, one person.

  A person who sends cream-coloured envelopes…

  “Well, it needs to be opened. We can’t leave it any longer,” Edith, the self-made leader of the three proclaimed. “If we don’t, you know she may just turn up. I heard she does that. Just turns up unannounced.”

  “I heard she bewitches people with her eyes, makes them do her bidding, and has men under her spell for orgies,” Babs added, her voice filled with awe.

  “I heard she has a magic va-jay-jay,” Marjory whispered as she peered at the envelope, getting down onto her knees so she was eye-level with the suspicious paper.

  ‘She’, as they referred to her, was the infamous Baba Yaga. A witch of supreme power that ran the council and kept all the witches and warlocks of the world in check. Mad as a box of frogs with a dress sense to match, she took no shit and dealt justice with a firm slap to the backside.

  “Why is she even contacting us? We’ve been behaving—haven’t we?” Marjory asked, genuinely confused as to whether their actions of late would be considered behaving. The older the sisters got, the shorter their memory spans became.

  “I think so,” Edith answered, though she didn’t sound too sure.

  The envelope held them in such rapt fascination that they missed the cloaked, hooded figure that had slipped into the room. The slight frame belonging to none other than the ward of the Knox sisters.

  Maeve Hummingbird Moonchild had been left on the doorstep of the London Bridge coven at the tender age of three weeks old with only a note to say who she was and that she was to be protected as she was a witch.

  While being brought up by the sisters, Maeve had always wondered why they had done it, seeing as not one of them had a generous bone in their body. Compared to her upbringing, Cinderella had it good. At nearly twenty-five, she was a lesser witch, with skills that barely ranked on a power meter. It had never bothered her as she had never known what it was like to have power, but the continuous ribbing from the other members of the coven had, over the years, started to grind her gears.

  Being brought up in the London Bridge coven had been an eye-opening experience, mainly due to the fact that the Knox sisters were two sandwiches short of a picnic and were seriously lacking in maternal instincts. Yet here she was, twenty-five years later; still alive, much to the frustration and confusion of all.

  If Maeve was honest, there were days when she was convinced they all had designs on killing her, yet when she questioned their motives, she was told she was being paranoid.

  Feeling more than a little confused about her aunties’ current actions, Maeve lowered the hood on her cloak, revealing her pale skin, bright amber eyes and violet hair. She stepped forward.

  “Auntie Edith. Auntie Marj. Auntie Babs,” she called out and stepped into the light of the sconces that dotted the walls. Not wanting to embrace the modern times, the sisters had refused electric lighting and preferred flamed sconces. Though they did like their fridge and TV.

  Absolutely batshit cray, cray those three were.

  Her appearance made the three screech in surprise and jump away from the table.

  “What in the name of the goddess are you doing and why are you dressed as Fate—again?” Maeve questioned and moved towards the table, instantly noticing the cream and gold envelope hovering over the surface. None of the witches answered her. Instead, they all stared blankly at her as if they were unable to process what she was saying. She’d gotten that look from them before. A lot.

  “You do remember the last time you impersonated Fate, don’t you? You were sued for copyright. You know she doesn’t like people taking the piss.” Still there was no answer. Fate was a friend of Baba Yaga and was not someone you messed with. Although the sisters seemed to thrive on causing drama.

  “You had to sell your entire joint collection of Elvis’s used underwear to pay them off.” Maeve shuddered. It still boggled her mind why anyone would want to own used boxers, especially ones owned by Elvis.

  Slowly, as if they were just waking up, all three blinked.

  “Maeve darling,” Marjory squealed, faking her delight.

  “Little witch,” Babs croaked.

  “What are you doing here?” Edith growled.

  Maeve sighed. And people wondered why she was convinced no one liked her. “I’m here because I was told you actually wanted to se
e me. Trust me, it took me by surprise too.”

  All three once again went quiet before they looked at one another. Maeve had always found it creepy when they did that. Almost like they could read each other’s minds. The sisters gave a unanimous nod, and Maeve watched as Edith stepped forward.

  “Yes. You can open this for us.” Maeve watched as Edith swept her hand towards the envelope, yet all three kept a healthy distance away from it. The magic it emitted was almost palpable. Maeve could feel it pulse through her blood. Yet it didn’t make her as nervous as it obviously made the sisters. It made her feel safe almost, if that was possible. A warm, fuzzy feeling she enjoyed.

  “Err, why me?” Maeve asked. “You never ask me to do anything.” Maeve paused and eyed the envelope. “I think you said, and I quote, ‘You are shit, Maeve. Completely useless. I’ve seen turds do magic better’.”

  “We didn’t say that, did we, girls,” Edith cooed, yet it wasn’t convincing.

  “Right,” Maeve answered, her bullshit meter spiking. But in a way, they were right. She was shit. She always had been. She had never been able to get to grips with magic. The sisters blamed it on her parentage, or rather, her lack of knowledge of said parentage.

  Basic spells caused her no end of problems. Maeve found magic hard, really hard. Even lighting a candle would give her a migraine. This had caused delight to the sisters and the coven. Being labelled London’s worst witch, possibly the worst witch in the entire UK, was something they all took great joy in reminding her of on a daily basis.

  Maeve had one friend, just one, and it was of the feathered variety. Most witches gained a familiar when they gained their powers: cats, dogs… some even got eagles or owls. These were creatures sent to help the witch on their magical journey. With skills of their own and the ability to talk, they, in turn, were given a companion for life.

  Not Maeve.

  Nope, as she didn’t really have any powers, she had been told she didn’t warrant a familiar, which again pushed her pecking order right down to rock bottom. So, Maeve had settled for the next best thing. A pet of sorts.

  And growing up in the bowels of London, under the shadow of the bridge, you were kind of limited. That, and the sisters didn’t like pets.

  They ate them.

  So, Maeve had adapted, as she had her whole life, and as fate would have it, her companion had fallen into her lap. Literally.

  A baby pigeon had been thrown out of its nest due to an injury, and Maeve had seen that as a sign and took the little bird in. Maeve had hidden Binky from the sisters until he was able to fly. He wasn’t a talker, but it was good to have someone there to listen to her.

  Being the UK’s worst witch and the butt end of a joke for the coven was a lonely job.

  “Come on, Mae dear, come open this for us,” Babs asked kindly, pulling Maeve from her thoughts. Maeve smiled slightly at the witch. Babs was the only one of the three that had ever acted with any kindness towards her.

  “Fine, but only because I’m curious and I can’t possibly screw up opening a damn envelope,” she stated and walked forward.

  “Ha! I bet you could. Maybe you could do us all a favour and blow yourself up.” Edith’s harsh words were nothing new to Maeve’s ears. Hell, she had grown a thick skin thanks to that witch and her barbed tongue.

  “I can hear you, you know,” Maeve stated but didn’t look at the sister. Instead, she concentrated on the vibrating envelope in front of her. Goosebumps and tingles shot over her body the closer she got to it. As she reached over, it seemed to pulse, as if the closer she got the more excited it became. Which was strange. Maeve had seen some weird shit in her life, but she had never seen an alive envelope.

  As her hand connected with the cream paper, electric shocks vibrated up her arm. Her gut reflex was to drop it, but she ignored it, instead keeping a tight grip and bringing it closer. Even though her skills were lacking, she still had her senses. Maeve could tell when a situation was going south. Her internal warning system had never steered her wrong. Yet right now, it was silent. Not a peep.

  Telling her that whatever was in this envelope meant her no harm and, much to the upset of Edith, wouldn’t blow her up.

  With gentle fingers, she peeled open the envelope and pulled out the thick paper within. Gold calligraphy could be seen, decorating the surface. Magic infused the ink, making it seem alive.

  When she had picked up the envelope, Maeve heard the intake of breath from the sisters, and when she had opened it and nothing disastrous happened, she again heard the collective release of relieved breath. Most likely because nothing bad had happened to them rather than her.

  “See, nothing happened,” Maeve answered and started to unfold the letter. Curiosity was one of her faults, and she was desperate to see what the letter said. Instead, it was snatched out of her fingers by Edith.

  “Give that to me,” she growled and scanned the letter, her eyes flicking over the text. Yet her face betrayed nothing of what was written.

  “What does it say, dear sister? What does she want?” Marjory questioned, and Maeve tilted her head and frowned. Dear goddess, if magic didn’t give her a migraine, these three did. Regularly.

  “So, if that’s all you wanted, I will be off out,” Maeve stated and moved towards the door, only to be stopped, her feet stuck in place. Maeve sighed. She hated when the sisters used their magic on her.

  “Nope, that wasn’t what we wanted. You are moving out,” Edith snapped and grinned, the letter now gone. And Maeve had a bad feeling.

  “What?”

  “Yes, we’ve decided that you have lived here long enough and it’s time to go out into the world and become useful.” Edith paused.

  “Useful how?” Maeve asked. “You have already stated on more than one occasion that I am a shit witch, so please, do deign to tell me what you want me to do and where I am to go.” Binky took that moment to fly onto her shoulder and lean into her neck to give what comfort he could. The sisters were kicking her out of the only home she had ever known. Yes, it had been a somewhat strange upbringing, but it was all she knew.

  “I’m sure you have other skills, honey,” Babs chimed in.

  Marjory snorted but kept quiet. Edith approached and held out a newspaper clipping. “Try this as a start. You never know, you may prove us all wrong and actually be good at something.”

  All three gave Maeve one last look before they left the room, leaving her alone.

  Maeve looked down at the small piece of paper in her hand, at the plain text that read:

  Witch needed.

  Apply at Kracken’s Hole, Dorset.

  Chapter Two

  After a journey that included three buses and two trains, Maeve still had not reached her destination. She was tired, hungry, and fed up with getting strange looks from people for having a pigeon on her shoulder. It wasn't her fault she was unable to summon a portal or travel using one of the Paranormal Train Services. Because her powers were so weak, she couldn't summon a portal and the PTS ignored her. So human travel it was. Even though the human world was unaware of the deep, dark recesses of the paranormal one, on some occasions the human world was a damn sight stranger.

  Maeve was thankful when she got off the final bus. If people were under the impression that having a pet pigeon was weird, they had never been on the 9:30 pm bus from Wareham to Swanage. She shuddered. Those peeps were crazy, and that said a lot, considering she had been brought up by the Knox sisters.