The Witch’s Familiar
TJ Nichols
Copyright © 2019 by TJ Nichols
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Afterword
Other books by TJ Nichols
About the Author
Foreword
Thank you for buying The Witch’s Familiar. Get a free copy of A Wolf’s Resistance when you join my newsletter. http://www.tjnichols-author.com/lp/
A gay shifter novella
Prologue
This time Jude Sullivan had done nothing wrong. He’d know if he’d fried the circuits of a city or taken out a hospital’s electricity by accident. He hadn’t even been near a hospital in years. The worst thing he’d done all year was charge his car for free. Why pay for electricity when he could call it to his fingertips?
Surely not even the Coven would give him a warning for such a minor misuse of magic?
They couldn’t know about his trip to Vegas. Even if they did, he’d done nothing wrong. Nothing that would put the paranormal community in danger of exposure and start another round of witch trials—or worse. He understood why the Coven freaked out so easily, but what did they want? Him to stop using magic? As much as he’d feared it when his talents had first surfaced, he’d started to find uses for it. And it was cool being one of the few people who could call down lightning.
He tapped his booted toes, unable to contain the nervous energy as he waited to be summoned into the Coven boardroom. These days, the Coven had the appearance of a well-run business. Their business being the management of the use of magic and the protection of all paranormals—and punishing those who didn’t conform. He forced out a breath. As much as he hated being summoned to see the board, they had protected him when his power had first manifested and he had shorted out a hospital. They hadn’t done it for him, though. They’d done it to protect every other witch. No one wanted to end up being dissected by overly curious scientists.
Jude glanced at the other man waiting. What had he done? Or was he here for better reasons than an assumed screwup? Some came to ask for help. Some had debts to pay. He may not even be a witch. Maybe he was a shifter. The man didn’t look at him; he was staring at his phone, so Jude couldn’t get a look at his eyes. It seemed kind of rude to see if he had an animal aura around him when they hadn’t even spoken.
This was a lot like getting called to the principal’s office, except there would be three witches on the other side of the table demanding an explanation instead of one cranky old principal who was tired of seeing Jude and telling him to keep his mouth closed so he wouldn’t get into trouble.
This was his fourth visit to the Coven. He shouldn’t want to throw up at the mere idea of stepping through those doors, and yet something about being here always tightened his stomach and prickled his throat with heat. He’d never hurled on their nice carpet, but there was a first time for everything. He didn’t like not knowing why he’d been summoned.
The secretary glared at him over the rim of her glasses, and he forced his toes to still. It was a pity he couldn’t calm his heart so simply or stop the sweat from forming and rolling slowly down his back.
It was worse this time because he knew he’d done nothing wrong. Nothing that would put anyone at risk.
This was far worse than the first time when he hadn’t even known witches existed or that he was one. He’d thought the MRI machine had malfunctioned. But it was he who’d had the malfunction. His magic had burst to the surface and shorted the hospital. He’d been terrified.
The Coven had brought him in and had given him a tutor so he could get his magic under control. Now he could feel the hum of electrons as they danced through wires and he could taste electrical storms. He liked them, as it meant he could stand on the roof of his apartment block and join in without anyone being suspicious. Most of the time, the only magic he could freely do was charge his phone and his car. He’d destroyed three cell phones learning how to do that. He stared at his hands. Having magic wasn’t as great as he’d thought it would be.
He could cast basic spells, but he didn’t have useful skills. He couldn’t move objects with his mind, read minds, or control animals. They were the talents of different witches. Where once he’d have been called a storm god, now he was just a troublemaker.
“Jude Sullivan.” The secretary stood. “They’ll see you now.” She opened the door to the boardroom. No phone had rung to alert her. She’d just known. It was creepy no matter how many times he saw that trick.
Jude got up and wiped his hands on his suit pants even though he knew no one would shake his hand. He gave her a tight smile that she didn’t return, then he walked through the large double doors.
Magic swept over his skin like a coarse brush. They were already examining him. He would be found wanting. He always was. Whatever they thought he’d done this time, though, he was innocent. He was almost sure of that.
If he could walk out of the Coven unscathed, in a few more weeks his passport would be
