Read Online Succession of Witches by Karen Mead - Free Book Online Page A

switching his attention back to Georgette. “Sam here would like to create an original spell for his familiar, but he is very new to spellcraft. I immediately thought of you.”
    The woman didn’t put down her knitting, but it was obvious from the sudden intensity in her voice that she was now all business. “What kind of spell do you need?”
    “I want to enchant a pair of earrings so that I can’t read her mind while she’s wearing them,” said Sam quickly before Serenus could reply. He wasn’t a child anymore; he could explain himself. However, when she turned a disapproving gaze on him, he rapidly wished he hadn’t spoken.
    “And why would you want to do that? Tryink to ged de both of you kilt, are you?” she snapped, her Eastern European accent getting thicker by the second.
    While Sam fumbled for a response, Ser addressed him quietly. “She’s of the old school, she believes master and servant should share everything. It’s not the kind of thing—”
    “Don’t you zay ‘old skool’ to me, iz common sense,” she snapped. Apparently she had been able to hear Serenus’ whisper, even over the questionable connection. “We share everything because we are one. To say different iz….” She seemed to struggle for the right word. “As my grandsons would say, it iz lame; it iz ‘fail.’”
    “Be that as it may,” said Serenus, obviously trying to keep laughter out of his voice. “The girl wants her privacy, and Sam would like to give it to her. I assume it can be done?”
    At that, the old woman seemed to relax somewhat, her accent returning to only the mildest hint as though she’d turned a switch. “I suppose. It shouldn’t be a difficult spell to make, no matter how foolish. How is your cupboard?”
    Serenus grinned. “Well-stocked. I made sure to get a proper witch’s pantry in here after our adventure in the fall.”
    “Good. Get your cauldron boiling, while I go look at my notes to double check some things. I will be right back.” At that, she rose gracefully from her chair, shockingly nimble for a woman of her wizened appearance.
    He was expecting Serenus to come back from the kitchen with a hotplate, so his jaw dropped when the professor returned with a small, black, cast-iron cauldron. “You have an actual cauldron?”
    “She insists that all spellcraft should be done in one; I thought it unwise to protest.” He gestured to the tepid water inside the pot, and Sam mouthed a word and flicked a finger to quickly raise the temperature. Making things hot was something he’d always been good at.
    The older man smirked as the water reached a rolling boil in a few seconds. “I never imagined being able to pull off powerful magic, but I often find myself wishing I could do little things like that.”
    Sam shrugged; he had no idea what to say in response to that. Serenus was only a quarter-demon on his mother’s side, which put him at a disadvantage in the strange and mysterious world of demonic genetics. If his paternal grandfather had been the demon, then he might have inherited powers through his father. However, for reasons they still didn’t completely understand, women didn’t inherit demonic powers, but their male children sometimes showed echoes of their otherworldly ancestor. With his remarkable nose for magic, Serenus was a stronger echo than most, but he could only cast the most basic of spells, and even then he required preparation to do it.
    “I have it,” said Georgette, quickly settling back into place. “Son of Sammael, prick your finger and squeeze nine drops of blood into the cauldron.”
    Sam was puzzled. “Blood? Not essence?” he asked. He’d only crafted a few magical items in his life, and each time they had called for essence.
    “Did I zay essence?” she snapped, her accent threatening to make a comeback. “For this spell, you are almost making a weapon against yourself: weakening your own powers where de girl is concerned. So you must start by hurting