Nail in Her Coffin (Devil's Witch Book 1)

Darren Silvet stretches his arms out and looks around the woods casually. He then spits on the locked doors to the other realm, then vanishes into thin air.

“White witch...” Will whispers in a hollow voice while staring at me with new fear.

“That legend is an old wives tale,” I huff, still feeling spooked.

“Was that thing an old wives tale too? That was a demon! A demon! You know why we hate hybrids.”

“This is why you’re all afraid of me, isn’t it? The white witch who created the first hybrid by making a deal with the greatest liar? You think I’m in league with the devil,” I blurt out.

Will watches the portal. “The only one afraid of you is Patty. Darren and his family must be trying to protect each other based on some myth. What we just witnessed was definitely demonic, but we shouldn’t stick around here any longer to discuss it. We need to head back, we may have just found us the necromancer.”

As the white witch legend goes, hybrids would join sides with demons and disrupt the balance the other realm keeps. Then the hybrids and demons would take over the world together and soon no one would be able to tell the difference between the two species since they both are so powerful. The white witch would be the key to it all, making a deal with the devil that would promise salvation to the universe once the war broke out and ultimately, open the other realm allowing the demons through to Earth.

That salvation specifically, promising the hybrids new supremacy over the other weaker races of supernaturals and humans who historically punished them for existing. According to our history, hybrids have always been the minority and feared by the majority. As the tale goes, the hybrids would revolt and somehow make some white witch summon the devil himself to aid them.

No war has started yet though and no witch in their right mind would ever willingly summon the devil just for some hoax.

Yet in every coven’s headmistress’s house, is said to be a portrait. A portrait exalting the ‘pure’ white witch, as a reminder of her coming. More like a warning for future generations of witches to be on the lookout for. Sadly, Patricia Guild firmly believes in the tale and keeps the picture above her fireplace of all places.

The many times I would go over to Stella’s house, we would stare up at the hideous disfigured witch with a crooked nose with a giant wart. Her eyes were slanted, glaring down at us through her scraggly white old lady hair. It was, and I’m sure still is, a terrifying portrait to look at, even for an adult.

The white witch’s tale is no more than a bedtime story, used traditionally by witches to scare their children into silence or obedience. When Stella and I would get in trouble her mother would always threaten us saying the ‘white witch’ would kidnap us and hand us over to the devil if we didn’t behave.

Her mother probably knows more about the hoax than any witch in Wixton.

How could I have forgotten about the legend? Patricia isn’t keeping me in the house to protect me. She’s keeping me in the house to protect the coven from me! She really does think I’m some kind of criminal just because when I revived my hair turned white! Will and his family, they must believe it too.

They all think I’m some kind of demonic witch who will bring their downfall.

“I’m done with the coven. Tomorrow, I’m going to ask your parents to take me to the coven hq and demand a trial. I’ll denounce my heritage and pronounce myself human. I’m done with their games,” I say while watching Will freeze up.

“No! Then the necromancer will find you. You cannot pretend you are not one of us, please Valerie. Just give the coven a couple more days, I’m sure they will find the necromancer then.” He says and I slow down in my pace, nearly tripping over an uprooted tree root.

I hoist myself over the broomstick of my broom, mind set. I can’t expect them to understand. Maybe I’m just bringing them bad luck. What if the necromancer is never going to stop killing people until I step outside the protection of the coven? The coven already confirmed the same magic was used on the house fires and the magic they traced around my grave.

After seeing how devastated Josiah’s parents were, I just can’t let anyone else suffer. Especially if the coven is trying to protect itself from me when it can’t even protect itself or humans from the necromancer.

“Your friend and the others died because of me,” I tell him, swallowing bile.

Will’s face softens and he scratches the side of his head with a distracted look.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he whispers in a serious voice while grasping my hand in his. My heart flutters when he guides me back down the mountain, even though we don’t talk there’s something comforting about being in his presence.

I didn’t trust his family at first, but now I feel like I can trust him blindly. Sometimes we don’t agree on things, but at least he’s willing to listen and not try to silence me. Like any other coven member would.

Who’s to say he won’t get hurt if I continue to stay here? Even if his family are powerful witches and warlocks, it won’t be enough to fend off some crazy necromancer.

Although broom riding is still banned, Will and I fly down the mountain the remainder of the short distance to his house. We land on the back porch without getting caught and I can’t help but miss the warmth of his hand. Even though it is freezing cold out, I wouldn’t have minded walking back down the mountain if it meant we could hold hands longer.

After he headed back to town, I stealthily walked upstairs to my room without waking any of the McCasters. Will told me he planned on going straight to the coven to report what we witnessed up by the portal. I’m sure the Silvets will get called into the police station again.

The demon’s malicious voice still rings in my head, chilling me to the bone.

I didn’t tell Will of course, but my mark was practically on fire during the whole ordeal. I was probably too petrified to notice it at first, but when Will put the ward up I immediately seized up in pain. Stella and I already confirmed the symbol on my stomach to be demonic, I should have expected some reaction from it.

I get up from my bed and walk in front of the mirror. Lifting up my shirt, I glare at the annoying mark.

If I don’t believe in the legend, it doesn’t matter. The necromancer must, I don’t know why else they would have given me a mark like this. Will seemed to firmly believe Darren is the necromancer, but he doesn’t know about my mark. A vampire would not have enough magical power to give me a mark like this. Something else worries me though, the demon mentioned using Darren’s brother.

Maybe it is possessing Jackson and that is why he was hiding away from everyone. He even is a hybrid too, but he just seems too innocent and kind to be making deals with demons like Darren is trying to do.