Witching on a Star

  Witching on a Star

  Erin Bedford

  Witching on a Star © 2018 Embrace the Fantasy Publishing, LLC

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also by Erin Bedford

  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

  Thank You for Reading!

  Sign up for Erin Bedford's Mailing List

  Also By Erin Bedford

  Also by Erin Bedford

  The Underground Series

  Chasing Rabbits

  Chasing Cats

  Chasing Princes

  Chasing Shadows

  Chasing Hearts

  The Mary Wiles Chronicles

  Marked by Hell

  Bound by Hell

  Deceived by Hell

  Tempted by Hell

  Starcrossed Dragons

  Riding Lightning

  Grinding Frost

  Swallowing Fire

  Pounding Earth

  The Celestial War Chronicles

  Song of Blood and Fire

  Crimson Fold

  Until Midnight

  Until Dawn

  Until Sunset

  Curse of the Fairy Tales

  Rapunzel Untamed

  Her Angels

  Heaven’s Embrace

  Heaven’s A Beach

  Granting Her Wish

  Vampire CEO

  Chapter 1

  There it was, staring at me. Bulbous, red, and angry. It was the very definition of my immediate doom, and it taunted me.

  “Maxine!” my mom’s voice shouted up the stairs. “We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry it up.”

  I turned away from the mirror where a pimple that had chosen today of all days to find a home in the middle of my forehead bulged out. “I’ll be down in a minute. I’m having an existential crisis!”

  “A zit is not a crisis. Being late to your own graduation is a crisis.”

  Not bothering to argue with her, I shot another glare at the horrible zit before rearranging my blonde hair so that it swept across my forehead, semi-hiding the red bump. Letting out an exasperated huff, I spun back to my bed where my graduation dress laid.

  Shrugging out of my jeans and t-shirt, I swapped my bra for a strapless one that would go with my halter dress, hooking the strap around my neck. I picked up the garment and stepped into the pale pink dress, the material smooth and slinky against my skin.

  “There’s my little valedictorian,” my mom said as she popped her head into my room.

  I spun around, clutching the dress to my chest. “Mom! Knock. It’s called knocking!”

  My mom snorted and rolled her eyes, moving further into my room. “Not like I haven’t seen it all before. I gave birth to you, you know.”

  My face scrunched up in disgust. “Ew, mom. I don’t need a visual.” I busied my hands with tying my dress up and started searching for my shoes.

  Chuckling at my distress, my mom took a seat on the edge of my bed, her pale blue eyes - the same color of my own - squinting in my direction. “I don’t see this elusive zit you are so upset about.”

  Happy that I had successfully hidden the malicious mound of flesh determined to ruin my graduation, I grinned. “If you can’t see it, then I’m not going to show you.”

  She gave me a look that caused me to groan. I knew what was coming. The I-know-what’s-best-for-you look always starts a lecture about ...

  “Have you been doing your yoga?” She raised a brow, her face far too young to have a teenage daughter, her soon to be a high school graduate daughter.

  “Yes, mom,” I drew out with a growl. “I do it every morning and evening.”

  “Well,” - my mom clicked her tongue as she adjusted the ponytail of her blonde hair - “if you were doing them like you should, then you wouldn’t be getting zits.”

  My mom liked to think that yoga cured everything, from daily facial issues to curing cancer. But even though she had her own special adjustments to the usual yoga positions, I found it a bit farfetched to think stretching could change my life. Still, I did them rigorously, you know, just in case.

  “Mom, I’ve been doing them, but not even daily stretches and meditation can overcome the stress of having three hundred students and their friends and family staring at you while you speak about what the future has in store for you.” My voice went up a few pitches during my semi-rant, leaving me out of breath by the end of it.

  Standing, my mom gestured toward me. “Come, show me what you’re doing.”

  I shook my head and sagged. “Mom, I know what I’m doing. I’ve only been doing them since I was three.”

  She gave me a perturbed look. “Obviously you are doing something wrong, or you wouldn’t be so stressed out. Now, come on. Show me Power pose one.”

  Power pose was just an altered name for Warrior one. Why she bothered to change the name when it looked exactly the same, I couldn’t fathom, but now wasn’t the time to bring it up. I shifted my stance so that my right foot was pointing ninety degrees to the right and my left foot was forty-five degrees to the right. Bending my front leg, I reached my arms up, stopping at the chest rather than going all the way to the sky like the real Warrior one would have required.

  “There.” I held the pose and met my mom’s gaze. “Satisfied?”

  Circling me, my mom looked over my stance with a critical eye. She stopped before me and stared at my hands. Reaching out, she adjusted the placement of my fingers aligned together, pushing them up to my heart. “It’s not just about the position, it’s about the purpose behind it. You must focus your energies. Breath into the ball of light inside of you.”

  Ball of light. Pfft. My mom was always referring to some great light inside of me. The source of my power. Whatever that meant. Not wanting to fight with her, I closed my eyes and tried to do as she instructed.

  Focus. I am focused. Centered. The light in me is full of calm, peace, and exuberant. Despite all my mental instructions, the light in my mind’s eye was anything but a docile lamb. It jerked with internal chaos, spikes of pure light jolting out in every direction. The power of it became so bright that I squinted even with my eyes closed.

  “You’re grimacing. Why are you grimacing?” my mom asked me, frustration clear in her voice.

  “I’m not grimacing. I’m focusing,” I lied as the ball of light grew bigger and brighter. I clasped my hands tighter in front of me. A static shock ran through
my hands, causing me to gasp and open my eyes.

  “What is it?” My mom’s face furrowed in worry, her hands going for mine, but I pulled away staring down at them.

  “I don’t know.” I frowned. I’d never felt anything like that before. I’d always thought of the big ball of light as a Mister Miyagi sort of metaphor, not anything real. But I knew I hadn’t imagined the shock that even now made my fingers tingle. My eyes moved from my hands to my mom’s concerned gaze, and I forced a smile. “Just freaking myself out. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  My mom didn’t look convinced but didn’t ask further. One thing I loved about her was that she wasn’t like other moms. She didn’t push me for more than I wanted to give. She’d always been the kind to let me come to her.

  “Alright, but you need to hurry up, or you won’t be able to get pictures beforehand like you wanted.” My mom pointed at me as she made for the door.

  I nodded and then waited for the sound of her going down the stairs before looking back at my hands. Had that really happened? Or was I just too stressed out by graduation? It wasn’t like I hadn’t had my share of shocks before but nothing like this. Usually, they were from touching metal or an electrical outlet, not from my own body.

  My phone buzzed, breaking me out of my mental assessment. Shaking my head and smiling, I picked up my phone and read the message waiting for me.

  Callie: Two hours and counting!! Are you ready to be free of this hell hole?

  I grinned at my best friend’s message. Callie always could be a bit overdramatic. High school hadn’t been that bad. We weren’t in the popular crowd by any means, but we also didn’t lack for friends. Calling Central High School a hell hole was going a bit far.

  Me: Ready for college. The libraries will be beyond comparison.

  Almost immediately, I got a response.

  Callie: Only you would be thinking with your big brain rather than about all the wild parties and hotties waiting for us at Brown.

  Callie and I had both gotten accepted into our Ivy League school of choice. It had taken some fighting with my mom and dad to get them to agree to let me go so far away from them. Rhode Island was quite a bit away from Atlanta, Georgia, and my parents and I had a really close relationship. It would be hard for me as well as them.

  I quickly texted Callie back that I’d see her at graduation and then finished getting ready. It only took me a few minutes to splash on some eyeshadow, mascara, and eyeliner. I grabbed my favorite strawberry lip balm and smeared it over my lips, giving them a shiny pink color. After that, I scanned over myself in the full-length mirror once more. Bra straps concealed. Hair bouncing and lively. Zit successfully concealed. With a satisfied nod, I headed for the door.

  Bounding down the stairs, I heard my mom’s voice in the kitchen, her words making me pause.

  “I don’t know how much longer we can keep this from her, Wesley. My spell is starting to fade. She’s already stronger than I was at that age.”

  My dad’s voice sounded reassuring. “Patty, I’m sure everything will be fine. You’ve done an excellent job of protecting her. Maybe it’s time to start letting her take care of herself.”

  “But Headmistress McClain keeps sending notices, wanting to know if Max will be joining them,” she retorted. “I can’t keep stalling. She’s going to Brown soon.”

  Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping as well as wanting an explanation, I continued down the stairs and popped around the corner to where they sat at the kitchen island. “Protect me from what?”

  My mom and dad both started, their hands clasped together. My mom gave me a weak smile that wasn’t at all convincing. “From the horrors of college life, of course.”

  “Your mom’s just a bit nervous about our baby moving away from home.” My dad chuckled and wrapped an arm around my mom. Most people had a challenging time thinking Wesley Norman was my dad. Not only because he was super famous - in the archeology world anyway - but because we look nothing alike. While my mom and I were run of the mill blonde-haired, blue-eyed Nordics, my father’s brown skin and almond-shaped eyes screamed his Egyptian inheritance. I used to agonize over not getting his exotic features but long ago came to love my own features. I did have his lips, bowed and more expressive than I cared for.

  Lifting a brow, I said, “Really? I’m not a little kid. I’m eighteen.”

  “Barely,” my dad pointed out, picking up his coffee cup and pointing it at me before taking a long drink.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m legally an adult, I’ll be fine. Plus, Callie will be there.”

  My mom snorted.

  “What’s wrong with Callie?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “You’ve never had a problem with her before.”

  I moved over to the island and shifted through the mail. My eye caught something with my name on it. A blue and green shield with a scroll and owl decorated the corner of the envelope. Winchester Academy. Another school wanted me, no doubt. I’d gotten about a dozen or so letters like that in the last month. I never opened them. I had my heart set on Brown, and that was that.

  “There’s nothing wrong with Callie,” my mom explained, taking the mail from me and handing me a banana. “But she doesn’t exactly have her mind set on her academic future.”

  “She got into Brown, same as me,” I reminded her, before taking a bit of the banana. “She’s just as smart as the rest of them.” My mom gave me a look, and I shrugged. “So, she’s a bit boy crazy. Who isn’t at our age?”

  My dad cleared his throat.

  “Okay, I’m not exactly the same as all those hormonally charged teens that I grew up with, but I can’t help that.” I frowned and took another bite of my banana. “None of the guys at our school has ever really interested me. They’re all so ...” I trailed off, unable to find the right word.

  “Immature?” my mom supplied.

  I shook my head.

  “Full of shit?” my dad inserted, making me smile.

  “Yes, but not quite what I was going for. I don’t know.” I sighed dramatically. “I just want magic in my life. You know that spark that sets him apart from all the others. Like you guys have.”

  My mom and dad exchanged a loving look before both of their phones buzzed. They both grabbed their phones at the same time as I finished my banana.

  “That’s the museum,” my dad grumbled, typing away on his phone. “They want me to come in to do some paperwork for my last expedition.”

  “No,” my mom told him, looking up from her phone. “This is your daughter’s big day. Tell them they can wait until Monday.” She typed a quick message into her phone before grabbing her purse off the other counter. “That was Maggie’s mom. She wanted to know if I would be chaperoning tonight’s party. I thought you told all your friends about tonight?”

  We headed for the door as I answered. “I did. It’s not my fault some of my friends have less trusting parents than I do.”

  My mom gave me a soft smile. “Well, not all teenagers are as open and honest with their parents as you are.”

  I grinned broadly.

  “Maggie?” my dad started, climbing into our red Ford Explorer. “That’s the one who crashed her car into the lake, right?”

  Shaking my head, I giggled. “No, that was Jessica. Maggie is the one who got caught having a coed sleepover for her sixteenth birthday.”

  “Oh, right.” My dad turned the ignition and then leaned over his seat to look at me in the back. “She’s not going to Brown too, is she?”

  This time, I laughed even harder. “With her grades? Maggie would be lucky to get into community college. She spent most of the senior year exploring the football team’s anatomy than anything else.”

  My dad let out a sigh. “Good.”

  My mom and I exchanged a grin. I loved my dad, but he could be such a ... well, dad. Thank God I wasn’t some serial dater like my friends. I’d had exactly three relationships if you could call high school boyfriends relationships.

  There wa
s Jake in eighth grade, who was too scared to say the word nipple let alone try to touch one. In tenth grade, I had a five-month relationship with a foreign exchange student named Clause who showed me why they called it French kissing. Then there was ...

  “At least that Jaron boy won’t be anywhere near you,” my dad continued as we made our way to the convention center.

  “Wes.” My mom gave him a warning look before shooting a sympathetic smile my way.

  “It’s okay, mom.” I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “It’s not like I can’t talk about it.”

  “I know, honey, but it’s okay to be upset. I would be too.” She reached back and patted my knee.

  It wasn’t like I wasn’t upset. Like my mom said, I had every right to be. Jaron had been my only long-term relationship, spanning through most of the eleventh grade until a few weeks ago when he announced he’d be going to college on the other side of the country. That parting wouldn’t have been so bad had he not decided we shouldn’t try to do a long-distance relationship the morning after prom. Oh, yeah. Where he had just deflowered me. Right. It’s fine. Completely fine.

  That light flashed in my head once more, and my fingers buzzed. I sat on them for good measure, not wanting to deal with whatever freaky thing going on with my body today.

  It was just stress, I reminded myself as we pulled into the convention center. I only had a few hours left until I would never have to see him ever again. I’d be on my way to Brown and a new magical future.

  I tried to keep my positivity up as we parked and climbed out of the car. After we entered the convention center, I hugged my parents and made my way over to where the students were supposed to gather and collect our gowns.

  Telling Mr. Oliver, the science teacher, my name, I took my gown and started to put it on over my clothes. Just as I was about to zip it up, a piercing scream filled my ears, about breaking my eardrums.

  “Max!” Callie wrapped her arms around me and jumped up and down, thoroughly shaking my insides up. “Can you believe it?”

  Pushing at her hands but unable to hide my grin, I replied, “I’d believe it more if I could hear.”