Power Surge

  “It’s all about the story

  #ExperienceBWP

  This edition published in 2018 by Burning Willow Press, LLC

  3724 Cowpens Pacolet Rd. Spartanburg, SC 29307

  (USA)

  All rights reserved.

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  The persons, places, and events of this novel are works of fiction. Any coincidence with individual’s past or present, is merely that, coincidence.

  © Burning Willow Press, 2018

  © S.L. Perrine 2018 - Author

  © Cristina LoBianco 2018 - Editor

  © Mayhem Designs 2018 - Formatting

  © PrettyAFDesigns - Cover

  Acknowledgements

  I first need to thank Edd and Kindra Sowder for taking on my series, The Crawford Witch Chronicles. When the previous publisher closed its doors, I was certain I would be searching for a long time for a new publisher to take on this series. As it turned out, BWP enjoys my work so much they were eager to take it, and I thank them for it.

  Secondly to the fans for waiting the last three years for the second book to come out. Having it almost released with the previous publisher and then put on hold, was hard for all of us. I finished this book so long ago and just have been sitting on it, waiting for this day, that I have lost the excitement of finally finishing another part of this tale. I sure hope the wait is worth it.

  Third, to my husband and children. They saw something spark in me after I finished this series and knew more than I, that continuing to write, and doing so full-time, is what I am meant to do. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

  Dedication

  To everyone who found out, without looking, that they were meant for greater things. For those who took a chance and made a gamble to come out on the other side and be happy, even with the scratches obtained along the way.

  I have faith in you!

  The Crawford Witch Chronicles

  Immortal Slumber

  Power Surge

  From the same world as

  Blood Rites Trilogy

  Blood Rites

  Turning the Stone

  Other Titles by S.L. Perrine

  The Beast Within Series

  The Beast Within

  The Curse of Ormshire

  The Ravana Moon Series

  The Darker Side of Me

  Hide & Seek

  Chapter One

  Death. It was the same every time I checked, and every time the card landed on the table in front of me, I had to remind myself that it didn’t mean I was going to die. In fact, it could be the cards’ way of reminding me how the course of my life had shifted six months ago. It could be the sign that life as I knew it was dead, since I found out I was a witch on my eighteenth birthday. The card could have also been telling me how my friendship with Chad had ended. A new relationship had formed. The card could mean the end of a lifetime war with Clara Blackwood. She ended up being a coven member, fellow witch, and good friend. Not to mention she saved my life. It could also be the fact that I would no longer have just two parents, but four.

  I’m Elyse Crawford; an eighteen-year-old witch, friend, adopted daughter, and daughter. Although, I just found out my parents hadn’t given me up for adoption when I was one. I was stolen, straight from the incubator that was my mother’s uterus. Finding a way to free them from an alternate plane of existence had consumed me for months. Although, that would be hard-reached if I couldn’t get my newfound powers under control. Did I mention I’m also the High Priestess? Not only did I receive the gifts of my mother’s high-born powers, but also my father's. This was something that hadn’t happened in over a hundred years.

  I took a breath. Breathe in-two-three-four. I counted again–breathe out-two-three-four–and flipped the next card. I glanced at the clear ball in the center of the table before looking down and caught my reflection. I tugged at the hairband I didn’t remember putting my hair up in, letting the raven locks flow down past my waist.

  I looked at the table again and saw the hermit had landed there. Boy, were the cards enjoying a great laugh at me. This card told me everything I already knew. Accomplishment, wisdom, the attainment of goals, as well as the search for truth. I had been trying to understand the new power inside of me since the night of the blood rite ritual; the night of the winter solstice, four months ago. I hadn’t studied the craft as much when I first received my powers and learned I was a witch. I had others around me, to help with the questions that I needed answered. Then, there were the many times I had to learn as I went.

  Unfortunately, after the ritual, there was no one who could answer the questions I had. Since I was the oldest daughter of the oldest daughter, I had received the powers of my family on my eighteenth winter solstice. That didn’t mean the rest of my family lost their powers. It just meant that since my family bore the power of a High Priestess, I received those powers. The rest of the Crawfords still had the power they were born with–some less than others– but they had it in them.

  The reason why I couldn’t get help with my current dilemma was because of the additional powers from my father’s family. My mother just had to fall in love with someone who came from a known dark magic family–one that bore a High Priest. Since my father was the only son, and his sister’s marriage to my mother’s younger brother meant I was considered the eldest of both families, I was the first known witch to inherit magic from both a priestess and a priest; high-born wiccans. Go me, right? No.

  I stared at the cards, unsure if I wanted to continue. Each time I checked–three times a day or more for a month–they had come in the same order. I shuffled and split and shuffled some more, but they stayed the same. The gist of it was my life changed, so I’m searching for answers about my new powers, questioning the next move, and pushing people at arm’s length. I couldn’t let anyone get too close to me. I had no idea what I was capable of.

  I raked both of my hands through my hair, smoothing it from the tangles of being held up, and turned from the table. I left the deck as it was.

  “Ughhhhh…” I threw my hands up to stifle the rest of the scream and threw myself to the bed, pulling the pillow over my face. My mother–adoptive mother–Helen, would have been in the kitchen downstairs. My adoptive sister, Michelle, however, was just a bathroom away from me. I didn’t care that she heard me yelling so much as I cared whether she came to see why. I just wanted to lay there, lazy and sleepy, for the rest of the week. The sun beat down on me through the open window, next to my bed, and I let myself drift.

  I was told my biological parents had died in a car crash and I was safely rescued and adopted almost immediately. My adoptive parents had only told me what they themselves were told by the adoption agency. It was hard for Helen to speak with me months ago about a biological uncle who had come looking for me. I can only imagine how hard it will be for her to hear my parents were alive and never wanted to give me up. That I was taken from my mother in the worst possible way. Of course, they could never know the circumstances around it. Hell, I didn’t want to know the circumstances around it.

  Finding out I was a witch may hav
e been exciting if it weren’t for the craziness that followed so soon after the news was sprung on me.

  My crazy aunt Sabina, for one. I lay on my bed and thought of her; how she sent golem assassins after me and my friends. I thought she was after me, trying to kill me so she could have the family's power. She had to know that’s not how the power transfers. She had banished my parents to another plane of existence, or parallel world. Not until she attacked my parents and cut me from my mother’s womb did she ban them to a time loop. They were supposed to spend the rest of their lives reliving that horrible day. Like a never-ending Groundhog Day movie. Only they couldn’t change the outcome, or the events of the day, for that matter.

  I relaxed the fists that had clenched around my pillow. I thought about how Ophelia had found them. How she and the rest of my father’s coven negated the loop, and it helped me to relax. The first time I saw my mother was when Ophelia gave me a vision quest. Her particular power was to show visions of the here and now. She was also able to show past events. If only she were able to see the future, I’d know how to do all the things that needed to be figured out.

  I didn’t look much like my mother that first time, but now, we could be twins. Except for the large pregnant belly, which disappeared when she saw eighteen-year-old me in a vison. It was hard to believe that just six months ago, I was an awkward seventeen-year-old with stringy frizzed-out hair and freckles. I could feel the magic coursing through my body and purging it of any imperfections. It wasn’t something I liked, or ever wanted…to be perfect, flawless. No, that was something my adoptive sister wanted more than anything. She managed to say something about it every time we saw each other. My skin had gone from almost ghostly white to a rosy tan. My freckles had gone away, and the gloss of my hair developed overnight. The only thing that really stood out was the golden hue around the pupils of my dark brown eyes.

  My more prominent features had come after the ritual. Ever since that night, if I moved my hands faster than a snail’s pace, something went flying, lit on fire, or exploded.

  “I need help.” I moved back to the table I had set up in my room only a week ago. It was to help with the collection of books I had acquired from the "library," also known as the storeroom at my parents’ home in Dublin. Spirit was the store's name. Chad had taken me there to pick out my own circle tools shortly after my birthday. Ophelia was the acting shopkeeper, and that’s how we met.

  Ophelia said I could bring as many books as I’d like home with me since we had all been in search of a spell to get my parents back. This was also because I was searching for any information to help me understand what was going on inside my own body since the night of the ritual. I needed to figure out the powers I gained.

  Clara’s idea–to store some of my magic in an object I could wear–was starting to become the best option I could hope for. It seemed everyone was right when they said they had never experienced a single witch who had received the combined powers of two families. I couldn’t find anything in any of the texts I had thrown around my room. Worse was the fact that Helen had started to think I joined a cult of some sort.

  In recent months, I had bought tarot cards, a crystal ball, and had about thirty books on the subject. I was using crystals and smooth stones to help with meditation, and had several blue and turquoise candles lit to help me relax and focus, but with each day, neither felt attainable and I bought more. Finally, when Helen outright asked if I had been trying to cast spells or draw blood with my teeth, I had to tell her I was doing a paper on Wiccan practices for school and explained the candles' meanings. I mean, any boob could find them on the internet, so it wasn’t far-fetched to say I was just seeing if they really worked. She laughed, dropped the subject, and only brought it up once more, to ask how it was coming along.

  I jumped at the tap, tap, tap on my bedroom door. Another thing Helen had become accustomed to–a locked door. I never knew if I was going to throw random magic at someone who just walked in. She had almost caught me casting a circle right there in my room. Since then, I’d gotten into the habit of locking it as I entered.

  I jumped to the door, flipping the lock around in the handle, and scurried back over to the table. “Come in.”

  The cards would read the same as they had the last fifty or so times I had checked. Discarding the pile and throwing them in my desk drawer wouldn’t have changed the outcome. The door opened as the drawer closed, but I was concentrating more on my hands and making sure they stayed close to my sides. I had not even realized Chad was the one who had walked in until he was behind me, wrapping his arms around my torso. His distinct smell of campfire and animal wrapped around me.

  “Chadwick Crain, what have I told you?” The question came out as more of a scream than anything, but he didn’t even flinch.

  “Elyse Crawford, you are too stressed. You know your emotions play a part in your powers.” He whispered the last word into the crook of my neck and kissed me there. I swooned just a little but did not let him feel it.

  I pushed my senses out and could tell he was as relaxed as everyone kept telling me I should be. Another of my powers–one that I actually liked at the time–was the empathic abilities bestowed on me. I hadn’t even needed to walk in the house to tell if anyone inside was feeling a bit snarky.

  Chad pulled me closer and nuzzled my ear. When Helen found out our friendship had gone from best friends to dating, she said the door needed to remain open at all times. She was the only one who was surprised about our change in relationship status. She didn’t think there had been any attraction from either of us. Michelle, on the other hand, just sneered her disgust at our waiting so long. Apparently, it was too obvious to everyone else.

  “Come on. Get your jacket.” He pulled away from me and I felt cold without his body pressed against mine.

  “Why? Where am I going?”

  “I’m taking you away from all this for a day,” he said, pointing at the mounds of books lying open across not just the table, but on the floor and at the end of the bed.

  I looked around the room, which I could clearly see, and it looked as if someone was searching for something hidden. It nearly resembled a tornado scene. I closed my eyes and conceded to Chad, who was holding my jacket in front of me, when my eyes opened.

  “Fine.” I reached out, took the fabric offered to me, and stomped out of my room. I agreed to make him happy. Being swept away for a bit didn’t seem like a bad idea either.

  Helen was doing something in the kitchen, which I assumed was her usual daily schedule of cleaning and laundry. I could hear the dryer tumbling throughout the lower level as my mother hummed to herself. I yelled that I was going out for a bit, but only received a thumb up from my dad, who I hadn’t seen slouched down in the sofa.

  “Dad? What are you doing home?” Michael worked odd hours for sure but was never home on a weekday before five in the evening. It was ten in the morning on a Tuesday. The school was closed for its yearly spring recess, but Michael had never taken time off while my sister and I were on vacation from school.

  “Oh, had some last-minute planning to do. Your mother’s insisting, I help with Michelle’s party.” He peeked out from behind his newspaper, then retreated behind it again. “Hello, Chad.”

  “Hi, Mr. Andrews.” Chad had a feeling as of late that Michael had some ill feelings toward him since we had become a couple. I thought he was imagining things, but Michael did seem a bit preoccupied.

  On further inspection, I saw the list of supplies needed for the party sitting on the entryway table. There were also directions on how to set up for my sister’s eighteenth Cinco de Mayo birthday party that would take place in three days. Helen always drew out a diagram when she was planning something different. Michelle’s birthday was usually a weekend-long affair, complete with music and prizes for various games. The first night was the actual party, but by Saturday morning, so many more kids came back for swimming and another large cookout. It would continue that way until Sunday aft
ernoon. Then everyone would creep back home to let the reality of school, after a long week off, sink in.

  “I see. Well, have fun with that.” I turned to make a hasty retreat before Michael could ask for a hand with anything. I grabbed Chad by the wrist and pulled him through the front door. Helping set up for my sister’s birthday extravaganza would not help with my stress issues. Then again, neither would the party itself. I honestly didn’t want to attend.

  “I hope you have an idea,” I said as we hit the driveway. “I can’t be around that many people. Not in this condition.”

  Chad wrapped his arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple. “It’ll be okay. I have an idea.”

  Dropping his arm, he wrapped his hand around mine and led me down the road, to the long driveway that was hidden perfectly between two suburban houses on our street. We had spent all of our lives only a few houses away from each other, and before my birthday, I had always seen his house the same as the others, and right at the curb. When I found out magic was real, I became aware of the spell on his property and house. It was designed to make the average person able to see it as they did the rest of the upper-class neighborhood.

  The minute I saw the truth, I preferred its true state. It was tucked back behind the houses and yards, in its own cocoon of trees, which created a fence of privacy and disguise. It reminded me of a cabin nestled in the woods. There were piles upon piles of split wood on the left side of the back yard. Chester, Chad’s father, worked with the local lumber mill. He got a discount on his timber. Usually, he brought it home and split it himself.

  Trees in the whole town had begun to flourish with spring time weather. The end of April showers had given nature one last gulp of revival. Green leaves were only broken up by trees holding blossoms in pale pink and white. The lawns showed off their beds of roses and plantain lilies. Property that sat behind the scenes had never appeared withered at all. The trees remained lush, green, and full all winter long.