WolfKen: Why should I leave? What the hell are you talking about?
BiteMe: I don’t expect you to understand, but I suppose you won’t let up on your inquisition until I give you all the information you need.
WolfKen: That about covers it.
BiteMe: Kenzie, what do you know about witches? And please don’t tell me that you know they have green skin, fly around on brooms, and cast ridiculous incantations.
WolfKen: Technically, that is what I thought, apart from the green skin thing.
BiteMe: Well, you’d be correct in that ascertainment, but there’s more to witchcraft than that.
WolfKen: I take it you’ve encountered witches before?
BiteMe: I’ve had the privilege. Though privilege isn’t the word I’d use.
WolfKen: Spit it out, vampire. What’s the big deal with witches?
BiteMe: The big deal is that they’re very dangerous. They’re masters of deception and, quite frankly, major pains in the ass. Don’t piss one off; they’ll hold a grudge forever.
WolfKen: What do you mean forever? Are they immortal?
BiteMe: No, thankfully. Jillian mentioned to me that you encountered some odd plebeian in Hidden Springs who did magic. If you thought that was bad, again I say, get the hell out of Barnacle Bay, because witches are ten times worse.
Kenzie’s eyes grew wide. She wasn’t sure how to reply to this newfound information. Witches were worse than that odd Hidden Springs native who cast a spell on a famous actress to reverse the effects of the Fountain of Youth? Wonderful.
WolfKen: What exactly do they do? I mean, obviously they cast spells, but how does it work?
BiteMe: They have to cast incantations for their spells to take effect. They can use wands to do this, which makes the spell more powerful, and some use spell books and even cauldrons to cook up some concoction. Basically, if they want something, they can make it happen relatively easily.
WolfKen: And brooms? Do they really fly?
BiteMe: They did in the old days, but because supernatural creatures aren’t supposed to exist, they use a more subtle form of travel. Oh, and many have familiars, which are animals that are basically their sidekicks. Kind of ironic considering you and Sage. Many witch familiars have been wolves over the years.
WolfKen: That isn’t funny.
BiteMe: I know, I was just trying to lighten the situation. Anyway, so now that you know about witches, will you be sensible and leave? Or will you remain adamantly stubborn like always and insist on staying?
WolfKen: You know I can’t just leave. I have an assignment/job to do. And if some poor girl is really being haunted by a ghost, I need to find out why so I can get rid of it.
BiteMe: Well, Jillian told me about that case, but if witches are involved, I’d say the mystery’s solved. A witch could easily summon a phantom or give the illusion of one to get revenge on an enemy or someone he or she despised. Or they could even do it for fun because some like to torture others simply because they literally have the power to. In either case, if a witch is involved, how do you plan to tell your professor and the police the truth? You’ll be laughed out of town and out of class.
WolfKen: Not necessarily. I talked to Jillian’s sister, Alexis. She’s done a lot of research on Barnacle Bay and apparently pirates aren’t the only big thing around here. The chief and “ghost hunter” both believe in ghosts, so it stands to reason that they’d believe in witches and voodoo, too. Alexis already said that a lot of people still do to this day.
BiteMe: Voodoo? You didn’t mention anything about voodoo. Now you definitely better leave.
WolfKen Why? You think someone will stick pins in a little voodoo doll of me?
BiteMe: You’d be lucky if that’s all they did. Voodoo is dark magic, and many witches have used it in addition to the curses and charms they inherited. Not a good combination.
WolfKen: Inherited? Witches inherit their powers? Although, I guess I did read that and Alexis did tell me that.
BiteMe: Yes, it’s hereditary to be born with the powers. No one really knows for certain how witches came to exist, but the ability to cast spells is passed down through generations, and gender doesn’t matter.
Kenzie leaned forward and bit her lip in contemplation. This was a lot to process. A part of her was afraid, but another part of her was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this. Normally she wouldn’t believe any of this witch stuff, but the fact that they existed was coming from a proven vampire. She couldn’t ignore it.
Still, she did have one other question.
WolfKen: Isaiah, what’s the difference between witchcraft and voodoo? I did some research but it mostly said that voodoo uses charms and witchcraft is all about incantation.
BiteMe: Honestly, I don’t know that much about it. But that sounds accurate based on what I’ve seen in the past. Witches originally drew their powers from the earth and nature, but as with all kinds, rebels emerged and started practicing dark magic. Of course, when the supernatural species started diminishing, humans became convinced that none of them existed anymore, so the witches had to cut back on their magic to remain ostracized. It was safer that way, especially when many witches, or some innocent humans accused of being witches, were burned at the stake for their practices.
WolfKen: Ah, the famous witch trials. We studied them in school.
BiteMe: Well, I wasn’t born when those events took place, but my mother was quite knowledgeable about them. One thing she was good for was information.
WolfKen: Well, thanks, Isaiah. Now I have some leads. The problem is, how am I going to prove it?
BiteMe: You don’t owe anyone anything, Kenzie. I don’t care if you feel like you have to do this; you don’t. It’s dangerous.
WolfKen: I’m pretty sure it’s less dangerous than my best friend dating a vampire.
BiteMe: I’d never hurt her. You know that.
WolfKen: I’m just saying...
Kenzie could almost hear Isaiah’s sigh on the other end of their conversation. But at last, they said their goodbyes and Kenzie finally saw on the clock that it was almost seven. Sitting up and stretching, she sashayed into the bathroom and took a shower. She was glad that Sage was with her; if anything was amiss or out of the ordinary, she’d let her know about it with her warning bark.
Climbing out of the shower, toweling off, and drying her hair, Kenzie plopped down into one of the two beds while Sage followed suit on the other. She didn’t intend to fall asleep so quickly; she’d planned to think and perhaps take notes. But the day’s activities quickly caught up to Kenzie as she drifted into unconsciousness.
********************
Sage’s shrill barking penetrated through Kenzie’s slumber. Her eyes flew open and she sat up in bed with a jolt. Sage was growling and barking at the window.
“What is it, girl?” Kenzie inquired to her trusty companion. Sage’s response was to keep barking, and a low growl emitted from her throat. Kenzie climbed out of bed, turned on the light, grabbed her glasses from the nightstand and put them on, and grabbed one of the decorative oars on the wall. She carried it toward the window and pulled the curtain aside...
...and dropped the oar in horror as a strangled scream seeped from her lips.
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