kingdom come by shane w. shelton

K I N G D O M C O M E

K I N G D O M C O M E

Shane Wesley Shelton

Believing Magic Books

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2014 by Shane W. Shelton

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior permission from the author.

First U.S. edition 2014

ISBN 978-1-941570-11-1

Printed by Amazon CreateSpace

Artwork for all covers in the Believing Magic series purchased on Shutterstock.com

Grammatical and line editing for all books in the Believing Magic Series by:Karen Robinson – Freelance copy editor and proofreaderBachelors, English & Masters, English | Texas A&M University, Doctorate, English | Perdue University, Faculty Fellow | Ivy Tech Community College teaching English and Composition

Second Editing and Final Read Through Proofing for all books in the BM series:Sherri McDougald – English major at University of North FloridaArtist: acrylics, ink, pencil/charcoal, and glass etchingContact for any work requests at: [email protected]

Interior book design and ebook conversion by:Jimmy Sevilleno – professional interior book designer and ebook conversion specialist

Cover artwork tweaked and adjusted and prepped for print by:Jeesun Hwang – Graphic artist and designer

Believing Magic Books13 Kingfish AvenuePonte Vedra Beach, Florida 32082visit us at www.believingmagic.com

A l s o b y t h e A u t h o r

Believing Magic Series:

Believing MagicKingdom Come

Sacrifi ceGarden of Wrath

All Around the Th roneDevil’s Tithe

∞

Th e GiftMilina May

MidoriCinderella, Cinderella

Frank Dobbs and the OtherLandsA Girl Called Grace

C o n t e n t s

Amen Hale: Book of Shadows . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11Penny: Welcome Home. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19Emma and Mary: Snooze Alarm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25Sky: Not Just a White Dress . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28Black Rain: Pleasure and Pain . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36Bethany and Penny: A Penny for Your Th oughts . . . . . . . . . 45Bethany: Eating Death . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51Black Rain: Work Work Work. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60Penny: Light as a Feather . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83Cathryn: A Bloody Surprise . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85Dr. Burgis: Pills and Powers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89Sky: Lunch with the Family . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94Emma and Mary: Mother May I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105

Emma Hale: Loved . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115Phillepe and Michael: Just Another Day at the Office. . . . . . . . 121Hillary and the Happy Idiots: The Key . . . . . . . . . . . . 127Black Rain: Buried in the Garden. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137Emma: Sorry Mom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150Black Rain: How to be a Witch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153Izzy: Pissed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156Cathryn and Cornelius: Matters of State . . . . . . . . . . . 168Kendal Flame: A Star Falls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178Black Rain: Nothing Is Scarier Than Love . . . . . . . . . . . 184Bull Dandridge: Desecration . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200The Bryants: Witch Etiquette 101 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205Hidden Agendas: Pillars of Power. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214Mary Fae: Finding Someone Special . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219Bull Dandridge: Housewarming Party . . . . . . . . . . . . 229Jane: A Waking Nightmare. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232Black Rain: Hell Comes Calling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235Black Rain: A Fate Worse than Death . . . . . . . . . . . . 245Emma Hale: Counting The Cost . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 254Believer: Last Rites . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 262Jane: An End of the Beginning . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 271Jane: Blood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275Soldiers and Doctors: CPR. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277Hillary: Faux Sun . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 285Jane and Dan: A Time for Blood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 289Dr. Morgan: True Colors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293Dr. Everet Tanner: Over the Wall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 298Cornelius: The Patriots Curse . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301Black Rain: Feeding the Beast . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309Black Rain: What Should Not Be. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328Believer: Home Is Where the Heart Is . . . . . . . . . . . . 336Cathryn: Putting the House to Bed . . . . . . . . . . . . . 347

A m e n H a l e

Book of Shadows

Read, before you choose to hate

Read, before you give your love

Hate me if you must,

Love me if you desire it…

Th is is what I am.

A desperate young girl in the motherly waySpoke to herself on one horrible day.Too weak and too scared to do the dread deedShe created a friend in her hour of need.

I need you to help me, she whispered to meI made you to help me, to help set me free.Free from the shame of the life I now hold.Free from the shame of the lies that I’ve told.

Please! I begged her. Don’t ask this of me!Please! Oh please! I begged Rain Marie.She would not listen, though I begged and I cried.I MADE YOU! she yelled. My will now abide!

You go now, and kill the child, I can’t do it myself!I’ve tried and I’ve tried and each time I have failed.My heart cries out and I run from the room,but my time is short and I’ll have to leave soon!

Why do it at all! Oh please, let’s just go!But no matter my tears she fi rmly said, “NO!”I made you myself from the dark of my heart,Now take up my body and go let them start!

Th e nurse said kind words, her voice fi lled with liesDon’t worry my child, there’s no need to cry.I wept as I entered the room fi lled with bladesWhere the doctor was waiting to end Brendon’s days.

As soon as it started she spoke once again.I lay on the table, cold steel still withinJabbing and stabbing up into our wombTurning a safe place into a tomb.

Th ank you for helping, but I need you againAnd I know it’s not fair and I know it’s a sin,But I want you to kill me, to kill once again.I don’t want my life. I want it to end.

You bitch! I shouted, You go straight to hell!You made me kill Brendon, but that’s all! I yelled.Th e murdering hands then slipped with the blade,I laughed and I laughed at the pain that cut made.

Th e doctor and nurses then strapped me downTh ey stitched and they worked as they bustled around.Th is one’s gone crazy, I heard the nurse say.I laughed and laughed and said, It’s my birthday!

Born from the shadows of Rain Marie’s heartBorn to kill, right from the start.Shaped by her mind to help her to kill.I did the damn deed but I hated it still.

If you don’t take this body from me,I’ll kill myself. Just wait. You’ll see.You know I’ll do it. It will kill Mom and Dad.It’s your choice, if you don’t want them to be sad.

Please! Oh please! I begged once again.But Rain Marie said, I’m sorry, my friend.If you want to keep our body aliveYou’ll have to kill me to make it survive.

How do I do it? I asked in defeat.You just push me out and then take my seat.Th is body will be all yours and not mine.I’m through with this life, now it’s your time.

I’m scared, Rain Marie. What will I do?How will I act when I walk in your shoes?Don’t worry, you’ll remember the life that we sharedAnd you’ll be with our family, and you know that they care.

So I pushed as I cried and shoved Rain Marie outAnd taking her place, I stood and walked out.Th e bastard who brought her stopped at the store.Give me some money! NO! Give me some more!

I walked into Wal-Mart and fi lled up my bagwith things that were black, no white but the tag.I arrived at the trailer at a quarter past noon.I cleaned out my closet and emptied my room.

No yellow. No white. No pink and no blue.I bagged it all up and I threw it out too.I sat on my bed wearing nothing but blackWhen her mother came in, carrying a sack.

Rain Marie, why are your clothes in the trash?She opened the bag and I started to laugh.Mother, my name is not Rain Marie.She gave me a look, she stared right at me.

You’re not Rain Marie, then who are you insteadYou sure look a lot like the child that I bred.No tears stung my eyes but that ended my mirthAs I looked in the face of the one from our birth.

She did not murder the child that she made,She birthed it, and loved it, from then to this day.I, myself, had killed Rain MarieTh e very child she swore me to be.

Mother, my name is not Rain Marie.I’m sorry. But I’m afraid. She died. You see.I hope you don’t mind if I live here insteadAnd sleep in this room, and lie in this bed.

She looked alarmed when she heard what I saidAnd sat down beside me on Rain Marie’s bed.She asked what had happened and if I felt well.I gave no reply though she begged me to tell.

So on that day, that’s how I was bornNot from a womb, but from her heart was I tornA scrap of her soul she left here behindTo live out her life. A life, that’s now mine.

I would say “God, forgive me” but He does not hear my words.I would forgive myself, but that seems blasphemous, even to me. It is enough to say I am what I am.Let the Black Witch now live in me. So mote it be.

As above so below, as within so without.Let them know. I will not hide what I have become.

J o u r n a l E n t r y

I T IS THE third day of the Kingdom, 1/3/1. Th e date is Friday, the 5th of August, 2016 in the world outside these walls.

Th is morning when I entered the Cathedral Hall I found these words. Some time during the night she wrote them. Th e smudges and stains are not from my tears but from the one who wrote these words.

I am shocked. I have read it through many times. Th ough I had heard the story from others it is altogether diff erent to see it told here by her hand. She is not willing to forgive herself, and I think I can understand why that is. I am the least of the servants of the Hall. My voice the quietest. Th e smallest. But I forgive her. And I love her.

Calvin Leonard Pyle, bond slave of Amen Hale.Keeper of the Book of Shadows.A brick in the wall.

T h u r s d a y , t h e 4 t h o f A u g u s t , 2 0 1 6

K . C . 1 - 2 - 1

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P e n n y

Welcome Home

P ENNY WAS A pretty little black girl, almost thirteen years old, with big brown eyes and a bright happy smile. Penny lived in Alma, Georgia. It was nothing but a quick fl ash of structures lining a painfully boring stretch of

state highway passed in an easily forgotten blur. And yet, if you did drive right by it, without realizing that you passed it, you would defi nitely remember it, but not fondly, because you would get a ticket, stimulate the local economy, and be sent on your way.

Alma, a.k.a. “Th e Armpit of Georgia,” was located in the middle of the least populated part of the state. Th e number one industry in the quiet area was trees. Pine trees. Sometimes Penny thought pine trees were taking over the whole world.

S h a n e We s l e y S h e l t o n

20

Row upon organized row of perfectly aligned pines in various stages of growth fi lled every available tract of land for miles around in every direction.

It made Penny appreciate the small stand of oaks, cypresses, and other hard-woods nestled behind her grandmother’s old house. She loved walking in those woods with their twisted, unpredictable limbs reaching this way and that. It was like her own little magical island, so diff erent from the plain, straight world that surrounded her.

Her mother had abandoned at her Gran’s dilapidated shack in the middle of nowhere three years ago, but Penny was happy there. She liked living with her grandmother and enjoyed curling up with a book on their comfy old couch to read the day away or watching scary movies with Gran that they borrowed from Alma’s tiny library. Most of her life was just as plain as the pines. Straight and normal and plain and ordinary. But there was a part of her life that wasn’t straight and normal at all. Penny was a witch, just like her Gran.

It was Wednesday night. Penny had just drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep when her grandmother’s ice cold hands shook her awake and forced a black garbage bag into her hands.

“Get up, girl! Get some clothes and get in the car!”She was still half asleep as the old wood-paneled Buick RoadMaster rumbled

to life and pulled out of the drive at ten fi fteen. When Penny asked where they were going, Gran told her that they were headed to a place down in Florida called Amen Hale that was a two-hour drive straight south. Penny’s grandmother admitted up front that they might be on a wild goose chase and that everything she’d heard might be nothing but bunk, but she said she just had to see it for herself!

Penny had never seen Gran so excited. She was almost like a little girl, laugh-ing and giddy and smiling her biggest smiles as she jabbered away. Gran had been watching the news on TV and she’d called a few of her “witch” friends who had internet. Th ey’d told her what the TV hadn’t. It seemed that “Amen Hale” had somehow become its own tiny little country and that they had a real, live, hon-est-to-goodness King and Queen, just like in the old days.

Penny listened wide eyed as Gran told her about the King of Amen Hale and how he’d been murdered yesterday and that a Red Witch had raised him up from the dead with a human sacrifi ce! To Penny it sounded like one of those stories straight out of the Bible, and Gran said that it was all true! or at least she meant to go and fi nd out for herself if it was true or not. Gran also told her that the land of Amen Hale was fi lled with real magic, witches, and even monsters and real live dragons!

Penny fought with the old radio as Gran drove, turning the knob this way and that to keep it tuned to the news as the miles passed and stations came and

K i n g d o m C o m e

21

went. Gran didn’t know what they’d fi nd when they got to Amen Hale, or if they’d let her or Penny in, but she just kept saying, “I’s got to see it for m-self!” Th e two of them had a fantastic time driving down the dark freeway in the middle of the night trying to imagine what wonders and magic they would see when they got there.

It was like walking into a war zone when they arrived at the gates of Amen Hale. Th ere were hundreds, no, thousands of soldiers. Some stood opposite a con-crete half wall barrier that was still under construction, others rushed about mov-ing trucks, tanks, and other equipment while yet more soldiers were busy keeping the growing crowds under tight control. A loud continual hum of noise and move-ment vibrated the air. Planes and helicopters buzzed overhead and news crews were everywhere with their cameras and bright lights, turning night into day as they did their interviews and news stories.

Penny and her grandmother joined the others who wanted in to Amen Hale, taking their place in the impossibly long line that led to the gates. Th ere were peo-ple who looked like witches standing in line with them, but there were also many others who didn’t. Church groups and angry protestors were there too, crowded around the gate and ranged up and down the line, shouting and preaching at those waiting to get in and handing them so many fl yers and tracts that the ground was absolutely littered with discarded materials.

Penny and one other very strange girl named Angel made a game of it and went around collecting the discarded literature. Once they had amassed two full garbage bags, they began to tile the fl yers out on the ground like fl ooring mate-rial so their feet wouldn’t get all muddy. Soon after they started, all the younger children of those in line joined them, and Penny and Angel assumed management roles, organizing and directing the operation like a couple of generals directing their troops. Th e parents were happy because it kept the children entertained and out of trouble, and everyone agreed that not walking on mud was also nice, but not everyone appreciated the use of soul-saving literature as fl ooring material.

As soon as the church groups noticed what the children were doing they start-ed shouting and crying out even louder, and more soldiers had to step in to keep the peace between the two groups. One preacher with a sound system started a new shouted out sermon that he directed at the waiting line of petitioners seeking entry into Amen Hale. “Th e road to Hell is paved with good intentions!” his voice cried out.

It went on for hours and hours as they waited to be seen. Th e preachers “preached,” the protestors waved their signs, and the mocking crowd made jokes and laughed at all the “fools” that wanted in, waiting in the endless line.

It did seem hopeless.Th ey watched people far in front of them in line reach a big green tent where

they were spoken to by someone from Amen Hale. Almost everyone was being


22

turned away, some leaving peacefully, but some were being carried away by soldiers as they cried like babies or yelled, loud and angry.

After hours of waiting, Penny and her grandmother fi nally reached the tent where a very tall older man who introduced himself as “Byron the House Steward” asked them all kinds of questions once he found out that Penny was a Red Witch. He said Penny would be allowed into Amen Hale and they would see if she could serve as Princess Bethany’s maid.

Penny’s grandmother was sad not to get in herself, but she was very happy for Penny. Gran asked her if she wanted to go and try. Penny was scared, but she still said yes. She was too curious to even dream of saying no. She wanted to see for herself if the magic was real or if all of it was just made up stories. Penny hefted her bag of clothes onto her shoulder, kissed her grandmother goodbye, and went with Byron the Steward.

Penny, her strange friend Angel, and a dozen others who were fortunate enough to be chosen climbed into a long black van and headed down the road, past all the soldiers and through the metal gates. Byron rode in the back with everyone else and spoke to Penny on the short trip to the house. He told her that Princess Bethany was also a Red Witch. Penny knew that meant blood, but blood wasn’t all that scary to her. Penny had been helping Gran for past three years now, so she was used to animal sacrifi ce. But she’d also heard the stories while she waited outside with the others. Th ere were lots and lots of stories being passed around and all the ones about Princess Bethany were very scary.

As Byron guided their little group into Amen Hall, Penny couldn’t stop herself from looking up at the high ceiling in the Entry Hall that was sprayed with mil-lions of little drops of blood. Everyone who entered did the same, looking up at the high ceiling. A chill went down Penny’s spine as she remembered the stories she’d heard about how the blood got onto the ceiling. Th e blood was from someone that the Princess had killed with just one word and a look. Penny thought that if this story was true, then the ones about her raising King Cornelius from the dead with a human sacrifi ce must also be true.

Penny was scared but she was also happy. Happy and excited to be chosen when so many others had been turned away. Byron led them though the house and out to a building they called the Guest Hall where everyone had their luggage checked for cameras, weapons, and other things that were forbidden. It didn’t take long to search Penny’s one bag of clothes. Soon she and Angel were taken to the showers to get clean before being led to a long room that held ten beds. It was early in the morning, barely two hours remained before the sun would rise and a new day began. Penny and Angel were careful not to wake the other girls who were already sleeping. Angel was in the bed right beside Penny but the two girls didn’t


23

talk to each other; the second they crawled into their beds and got settled between the warm clean sheets they fell fast asleep.

In the morning all the “newcomers,” which was what they were being called, were roused and brought outside to a beautiful garden where the King and Queen came out to meet with them. Everyone dropped down onto their knees and Penny copied them and did the same as the King and Queen of Amen Hale stepped up onto a metal table so everyone could see them.

Th e King was a tall, older man. He wore a nice grey suit with a white shirt but no tie. His long silver gray hair hung down to the middle of his back. He had a kind smile and his voice was warm and friendly as he spoke to everyone gathered in the garden. Penny thought he looked like he would be a very nice King and the beautiful blonde lady standing beside him looked exactly how Penny imagined a real Queen would look.

Kind, but serious, as she studied the newcomers. Tall and slim, the Queen still held the posture and look of youth, which made her age hard to guess from a distance. Her hair was blonde and she wore an elegant white and blue dress with metal clasps at the shoulders and back that shone like gold in the morning light.

Th ey weren’t able to speak long, just enough to say hello and welcome before they were interrupted and forced to go deal with some other important problem. Byron the Steward took over and spoke to the newcomers himself. Byron said that all those not already given a place of service would be summoned before the King and Queen later that day to see if there was a place for them in Amen Hale and ifthey would be allowed to stay.

Next, Byron told everyone about the Royal Family. King Cornelius, Queen Cathryn, the four Princesses (Black Rain, Mary Fae, Bethany Grave, and Emma Hale), and the other Lords and Ladies of Hale. Byron explained that Amen Hale was its own Kingdom now, and that the laws of the United States of America end-ed the moment you passed the gates and entered the Kingdom. In Amen Hale, he said, the King and Queen’s word was the only law. He said that those who chose to stay here would live and serve exactly how the King and Queen wanted them to and anyone who didn’t like that really should leave immediately.

Byron talked for a long while about what it would be like to live in Amen Hale and what it meant to live in a land with a King and Queen. He explained how everyone was supposed to act and talk and bow and serve the Royal Family. Th en Byron talked about how he loved the King and Queen and the royal family and said that everyone here should love them too.

“Why would you want to bind yourself to serve someone that you do not love?” Byron said.

He encouraged all the newcomers to take some time this morning to seriously think over their decision and consider whether this life was what they wanted. He


24

said it would be magical and fantastic but that it was still a life of service. As he fi n-ished, Byron told the newcomers to wait in the guest house until they were called to present themselves before the King and Queen, but right before he released everyone he called a few people aside to meet with the Queen personally. “Penny Haig” was the fi rst name he called.

Queen Cathryn herself asked her to be Bethany’s maid. Penny said she would try, but she also told the Queen she was very scared. Th e Queen told her all about the Princess as she led her up to Bethany’s bedroom. Queen Cathryn said that Bethany was very attached to her witch dress and that she would probably stay in it most of the time. Part of her job would be to wash the dress as quickly as she could whenever Bethany took her bath or her shower.

Th e Queen told her to watch the Princess and let her know if Bethany need-ed anything or if she was unhappy or angry, and most importantly, if she seemed dazed or out of control. She explained how Penny would have to be careful when she talked about blood with the Princess. She didn’t say that she shouldn’t talk about it but to be careful if they did.

Th en Queen Cathryn told her about Bethany’s home life so she would know a little about how the Princess had grown up and all the things that she’d gone through. Th at was horrible to hear. It made Penny appreciate her grandmother a lot more. And then Queen Cathryn showed her a box that held the most beautiful sacrifi cial blade she had ever seen.

“Th is is Bethany’s blade,” Cathryn said. Th e Queen took a few minutes to tell her how to care for it. Clean it. And she told her which of the kitchen staff to take the blade to after it was used so they could sharpen it for her. Th en she handed it to Penny. Penny’s eyes were huge as she gazed at the magical blade that had started the Kingdom of Amen Hale and raised the King from the dead.

“Keep it safe, keep it sharp, and keep it ready for the Princess. I have a feeling she will need it soon.”

“Yes, Queen Cathryn,” Penny said as she placed the blade back into the wood-en box.

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E m m a a n d M a r y

Snooze Alarm

“ F OR CRAP’S SAKE, Mary, it’s time to get up!” Emma growled as she tried to untangle herself from Mary’s arms and legs.“UhUuu,” Mary mumbled and tried to grab her again, like Emma was a

bad pillow that wanted to run away from home where she belonged. She’d already drug her back into bed twice, but this time Emma slipped down to the foot of the bed out of her reach.

“Nooo! Not yet, Emms—just a little longer. Cuddle with meeeee!” Mary begged. Her eyes stayed closed, but she switched to using her feet, slipping one foot around each side of Emma and squeezing, trying to reel her back in with her legs.

“Get up Mary! It’s gotta be late. Let’s go see what’s happening.”


26

Mary gave up, but she didn’t move. She lay there, talking with her eyes closed. “Emma.”

“Yeah?” Emma replied as she looked around the big empty room. Th e pallet that Cathryn and Cornelius had used as their bed sat empty beside theirs. Last night had been weird. Emma was still trying to make sense of it, and she wasn’t getting anywhere. What had happened? Was she an employee now? A household servant? Was she already late for her fi rst day of work? God she hoped not. She didn’t want to be in trouble already. And she didn’t want Cathryn to think she was lazy and was the kind of person who would just sleep the day away.

Maybe she had just dreamed what she thought had happened last night. Her brow crinkled in foggy morning contemplation. Mary sat up in the bed. Her arms encircled her from behind. Emma didn’t fi ght it. Why bother? She felt like a puppy that was owned by a little kid that had to squeeze the life out of it. She just sighed.

Mary schooched up behind where she sat on the end of the bed, resting her chin on top of Emma’s shoulder.

“Emma,” Mary said again.“Yeah?” Emma’s cheek was right next to Mary’s, but for some reason it wasn’t

wigging her out. Being this close to someone normally would have made her go totally nuts. She usually didn’t let anyone touch her. Emma guarded her “personal space” like a demon from hell, but for some reason Mary’s touching her didn’t seem to bother her anymore. Even Mary’s arms wrapped around her middle didn’t make her start to sweat and squirm and fi ght to be free.

Maybe it was because she knew that Mary was “handicapped” and “had to touch people.” She really wasn’t able to help herself. Being mad at her for it would be wrong. Like being mad at a crippled person in a wheelchair because they couldn’t walk. Th ey couldn’t help it and neither could Mary. Or maybe it was because she was just too tired to fi ght her off anymore, but it defi nitely wasn’t because she ac-tually wanted to be hugged by her. At least that was what she was telling herself.

Emma had struggled with her personal space “issues” along with a bunch of other “issues” since she was a small child. Mary hugging her made her think of her parents. Emma couldn’t remember a single time her mother or her father had ever hugged her. She’d been picked up, held, washed, cleaned, but not hugged. Th ere was a diff erence. A hug was something you did because you wanted to and because you needed it, not because you had to or to get someone to shut up. Emma couldn’t remember having been hugged by either of them. To say that her mother and father were not aff ectionate people wouldn’t quite cover it. Emma didn’t know if her own issues were an inherited antisocial phobia buried deep in her genes or if it was something else. She’d given up on trying to fi gure it out.


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Something wet was on her check. Emma turned her head to the side and looked at Mary. She was crying, but she also had a dazed, unfocused look on her face that Emma recognized. Mary was doing magic.

“Are you doing witch stuff to me right now?” Emma asked as she looked at Mary, giving her her best disapproving squinty-eyed glare. Mary’s tears were get-ting her all wet. Her long, snow white hair with its one green stripe was all over the place; some was caught in her mouth and plastered to the side of her head, getting wet in the tears.

“Yeah, I’m doing magic,” Mary confessed quietly. “But it’s nothing bad, Emms. I love you.”

Emma gave that some thought. She knew Mary couldn’t lie. Love? For some strange reason Mary loved her, which was weird, but okay. So if she loved her, then whatever she was doing was probably nothing bad, like she said.

“I know it’s not bad, but what is it, Mary?” Emma asked, still doling out the squinty eye. “What exactly are you doing to me?”

“I’m getting to know you—with my magic.”Emma looked into Mary’s pretty green eyes. Yesterday was the fi rst time they’d

ever met, but Mary was looking at her as if she already knew all about her. Maybe she did. Emma had heard and seen enough yesterday at the wedding and dinner to know that Mary knew things by touching people. She wondered how much Mary knew about her as she looked at the green-eyed girl whose face was so close to hers. Mary probably knew everything there was to know by now. And she was still hugging her. Like there was still something there, inside her, that she actually wanted to hug. She relaxed, ending her squinty-eyed gaze and sat there just looking back at Mary.

“Okay,” Emma said.Mary smiled. “Really?”Emma nodded. For a few minutes she didn’t say anything, she just sat there on

the edge of the bed enjoying the hug. Mary didn’t say anything either.“Maybe fi fteen more minutes,” Emma said. She gave Mary a small smile.Mary’s smile was huge, but she answered in a whispered, “Okay, let’s cuddle.”Th e girls crawled back into the bed and held each other.

kingdom come by shane w. shelton

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