Enchant (Enchanted #1)
Micalea Smeltzer
Mara Pryce never imagined that her life was anything but normal and then a strange gray-eyed young man appears at her graduation. When he vanishes without a trace, she’s convinced he’s a figment of her imagination. Then he appears again and shatters her whole world.
Mara is an enchanter, part of an ancient line of Wiccan power, and a war is raging—one of good and evil—between the Enchanted and the Iniquitous.
The Iniquitous want her dead and it’s Theodore’s job as her protector to keep her safe.
When Mara and Theodore arrive at a safe house, where Mara will remain hidden while learning about her powers, they find that the real threat might be a little closer to home than they want to believe.
Chapter 1
I RAN DOWN A DARKENED HALL.
Shaking and cold, I kept running, something sinister pursuing me in the shadows.
“Run, Mara, run!” a voice called out, panicked and begging.
I looked back, searching for the voice, my heart breaking in two. All I saw behind me, though, were the darkened figures chasing me. So many.
So. Freaking. Many.
I burst through a door into the open air, the sudden brightness blinding my eyes.
Something slammed into me from behind and I screamed, kicking out.
“You’re mine.”
I awoke with a start, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I struggled to get enough air into my aching lungs.
“It’s just a dream, Mara,” I muttered, shoving my pale blonde hair out of my eyes.
My words did nothing to slow the beating of my heart. I rubbed my arms, noticing they were clammy with sweat.
My alarm began blaring from my nightstand, and I jumped. With a groan, I slapped my hand against the top, shutting it off.
Today would be the last time I’d hear that obnoxious noise.
Taking a few deep breaths, I braced myself before getting out of the bed. My feet barely had touched the floor when there was a soft knock.
“Come in,” I called out, and hoped my dad didn’t catch the shakiness in my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was worry him. That’s why I never told him about my dreams. They didn’t come often, maybe once or twice a year, but when they did I couldn’t shake them for weeks. Dad already worried enough about me as it was. I think losing my mom made him cherish me all the more, so any time something small happened he reacted like he was going to lose me. Sometimes, I’d see him look at me like he was afraid I was going to disappear right in front of him.
The door creaked open, and he appeared with a wide smile.
His hair was receding, graying in places, and his face was lined from all his years of laughter, but I still thought he was handsome. I didn’t look anything like him, though. I had one lone picture of my mom and I was definitely her clone, from the leached of color blonde hair and pale skin to my wide doe eyes, freckles, and petite features. She looked like an angel to me—small but mighty.
She died when I was a baby, murdered in some freak mugging incident, but somehow, I still missed her even though I never knew her.
I guess maybe I missed the idea of her.
“I made breakfast. Your favorite.”
“Aw, thanks, Dad. You’re the best.” I hugged him, his slightly pudgy middle getting in the way.
“Do you want to eat together, or I can bring yours up here so you can get ready?”
I looked at the time and sighed. “I should get ready.”
He smiled. “No problem. I’ll be back.”
He ducked out the door, closing it behind him.
I had my clothes sitting out on the chair along with my cap and gown.
It didn’t feel real that I was graduating high school. It’d all gone by in the blink of an eye. But while my classmates were excited for the next chapter in their life, I wasn’t. I felt like I was missing something, but I didn’t know what. I guess a lot of my feelings probably stemmed from not knowing what I wanted to do in college. I had no career goals in mind and that sucked.
I forced the negative thoughts from my mind and stepped into the attached bathroom. It was small with cracked tile floors, but at least it was mine.
I turned the shower on and grabbed my towel, throwing it over the rail before stepping out of my clothes and tossing them in the laundry basket. Beneath the spray, I wet my hair and lathered it with shampoo.
Even though my body was there, doing such a menial task, my mind was a million miles away, back in a darkened hall running from some unseen monster.
I wanted to think it was some sort of symbolism for my fears of graduating and moving on, but I knew that was wrong. I’d been having the dream since I was at least ten, and I definitely wasn’t worried about graduating then.
I finished washing my hair and body and stepped out of the shower onto the fuzzy mat, wrapping the towel around me. The mirror was fogged up and I lifted my arm to wipe away the condensation. As I did, I noticed something. Squinting, I wiped away a bigger circle.
A scream loud enough to wake the dead left my throat as I took in the cloaked figured behind me. I whipped around, ready to fight my assailant, but no one was there. My heart beat rapidly, and tears sprung to my eyes. My dad’s feet pounded up the steps and he burst into the bathroom, a glowing sword in his hands.
He took me in—panicked and scared—and the vacant bathroom before quickly muttering something.
The sword vanished.
One minute it was there, and the next it was not.
I blinked.
Blinked again. It was still gone, but he wasn’t.
What is happening? Am I losing my mind?
That seemed to be the only plausible explanation.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
I shook my head. “N-No,” I stuttered. “I-I thought I saw someone.”
“There’s no one there, Mara.”
I clutched my head, squishing my eyes closed. “I-I know. B-But you had a s-sword. Where’d it g-go?”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “Mara, I don’t have a sword. I don’t even own a gun. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Maybe I’m getting sick,” I muttered.
That had to be it. Sick was better than crazy.
“I think you should eat. You’re probably hungry,” he surmised. “I left your breakfast on the bed.”
“Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Something was happening to me. I didn’t know what, but it was something.
The royal blue graduation gown stuck to my sweaty body and made me itch like crazy.
Our graduation had to be held on the hottest day of summer thus far.
I could see my classmates beginning to wilt in the heat. I wanted to fan myself, but I was sure Ms. Jones, the assistant principal, would cut off my arms if I attempted to. She was a stickler for manners, and I was certain she wouldn’t condone that.
Matthew Pierson, who sat next to me, kept wiggling and trying to talk to Eddie Ralston on my other side.
Ms. Jones shot daggers at Matthew while Mr. Taylor, our principal, droned on and on about our futures.