A Witch's Trial (Witch's Path Series: Book 3) by N. E. Conneely Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: N. E. Conneely
salve, the cuts would take days to heal, and I'd get the joy of feeling itchy scabs all over my body. Energy wise, I should be back to normal in the morning, but I was going to be rather useless the rest of the day.
At the lodge, I hauled the bare essentials back to my apartment before running down to the kitchen and taking a few plates of leftovers from the snacking shelf in Landa's fridge. Back in my apartment, I carefully stripped off my bloodstained clothes and tossed them in the trash. With the number of holes they'd acquired, it wasn't worth trying to salvage them. My shower was long and painful, but I managed to scrub the cuts clean.
I'd just dried off and slipped into shorts and a T-shirt when I heard a knock at the door.
"Be right there," I yelled on my way over. Opening the door, I found Amber on the other side, a bottle of wine in one hand and a box of zebra-striped bandages in the other. Laughing, I held the door open, "Do come in."
"Geez, Michelle. What happened to you?" Amber set the bottle of wine on the table.
I closed the door and turned to look at her. She looked good, at least on the outside, but I didn't trust her appearance. Amber had been held captive by a crazy werewolf, leaving wounds that were invisible to the eye. "Well, I had a run-in with a clurichaun." A cut above my elbow oozed blood. "Can I tell you the story while we bandage me?"
Amber looked me up and down. "That might be best."
I fetched the healing cream and some larger bandages from the bathroom, then sank into a chair. Amber knelt in front of me, settled my foot in her lap, and started smearing the green goop on the cuts.
"You said something about a clurichaun?"
Scooping up a glob of the healing cream, I started on my left arm. "The Pickens police called me because the clurichaun at the liquor store was making trouble. I captured him, but while he was throwing a tantrum, he managed to break most the bottles in the place. A few falls, and I look like this."
"You're lucky you weren't hurt more. Why did the clurichaun trash the store?"
That was a good question, one I'd been too tired to ask when I had the chance. "No idea. By the time he was in cuffs, I was ready to go home. Next time I talk to Queen, I'll ask."
"Why am I bandaging you when you could use a healing charm?" Amber stuck a bandage over a cut and started rubbing the cream into the next wound.
I tired not scoot around in the chair. She didn't need to rub the healing cream into the cut, just smear some over it. "Because I'm not a prepared witch. I'm out of minor healing charms, and this doesn't rate a powerful one. In the morning, when I feel better, I'll make a charm for myself. Until then"—I pointed at the healing cream—"I'll make do with this stuff. It's spelled to promote healing."
Typically, I was prepared and over prepared, but the past few weeks had been a whirlwind of emergencies, and I'd gone through some supplies faster than I could replenish my stock. The minor charms were one of those items. If I'd been useful rather than wallowing at Mom's house, it would be a different story.
By the time we were done, I was a patchwork of skin and zebra bandages. Looking at my arms and legs, I vowed to avoid mirrors for a while. "It's a good thing it's fall. With pants and long sleeves, no one will ask what I did to myself."
"True, but when you're scratching because you have itchy scabs everywhere, they'll ask questions."
"Hey, don't blow holes in my plan." I grinned. "A girl has to do something to preserve her dignity. The guys would laugh at me if they knew a clurichaun did this to me."
"And the glass, don't forget the glass." Amber giggled.
"I won't be forgetting that." I grumbled. "Shall we eat?"
"Sure, what do you have?" Amber dumped the bandage wrappings in the trash.
"Landa's leftovers." I pulled the plates out of the refrigerator, and we heated and divided the food.
Before we started on lunch, Amber uncorked the wine and
At the lodge, I hauled the bare essentials back to my apartment before running down to the kitchen and taking a few plates of leftovers from the snacking shelf in Landa's fridge. Back in my apartment, I carefully stripped off my bloodstained clothes and tossed them in the trash. With the number of holes they'd acquired, it wasn't worth trying to salvage them. My shower was long and painful, but I managed to scrub the cuts clean.
I'd just dried off and slipped into shorts and a T-shirt when I heard a knock at the door.
"Be right there," I yelled on my way over. Opening the door, I found Amber on the other side, a bottle of wine in one hand and a box of zebra-striped bandages in the other. Laughing, I held the door open, "Do come in."
"Geez, Michelle. What happened to you?" Amber set the bottle of wine on the table.
I closed the door and turned to look at her. She looked good, at least on the outside, but I didn't trust her appearance. Amber had been held captive by a crazy werewolf, leaving wounds that were invisible to the eye. "Well, I had a run-in with a clurichaun." A cut above my elbow oozed blood. "Can I tell you the story while we bandage me?"
Amber looked me up and down. "That might be best."
I fetched the healing cream and some larger bandages from the bathroom, then sank into a chair. Amber knelt in front of me, settled my foot in her lap, and started smearing the green goop on the cuts.
"You said something about a clurichaun?"
Scooping up a glob of the healing cream, I started on my left arm. "The Pickens police called me because the clurichaun at the liquor store was making trouble. I captured him, but while he was throwing a tantrum, he managed to break most the bottles in the place. A few falls, and I look like this."
"You're lucky you weren't hurt more. Why did the clurichaun trash the store?"
That was a good question, one I'd been too tired to ask when I had the chance. "No idea. By the time he was in cuffs, I was ready to go home. Next time I talk to Queen, I'll ask."
"Why am I bandaging you when you could use a healing charm?" Amber stuck a bandage over a cut and started rubbing the cream into the next wound.
I tired not scoot around in the chair. She didn't need to rub the healing cream into the cut, just smear some over it. "Because I'm not a prepared witch. I'm out of minor healing charms, and this doesn't rate a powerful one. In the morning, when I feel better, I'll make a charm for myself. Until then"—I pointed at the healing cream—"I'll make do with this stuff. It's spelled to promote healing."
Typically, I was prepared and over prepared, but the past few weeks had been a whirlwind of emergencies, and I'd gone through some supplies faster than I could replenish my stock. The minor charms were one of those items. If I'd been useful rather than wallowing at Mom's house, it would be a different story.
By the time we were done, I was a patchwork of skin and zebra bandages. Looking at my arms and legs, I vowed to avoid mirrors for a while. "It's a good thing it's fall. With pants and long sleeves, no one will ask what I did to myself."
"True, but when you're scratching because you have itchy scabs everywhere, they'll ask questions."
"Hey, don't blow holes in my plan." I grinned. "A girl has to do something to preserve her dignity. The guys would laugh at me if they knew a clurichaun did this to me."
"And the glass, don't forget the glass." Amber giggled.
"I won't be forgetting that." I grumbled. "Shall we eat?"
"Sure, what do you have?" Amber dumped the bandage wrappings in the trash.
"Landa's leftovers." I pulled the plates out of the refrigerator, and we heated and divided the food.
Before we started on lunch, Amber uncorked the wine and
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