Read Witchdependence Day: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Shorts Book 8) for Free Online Page B

hard, my dreams filled with happy laughter. I couldn’t see the woman giggling in my dreams, but I knew it was Thistle.
    At some point the dream shifted, though, and I realized the sound wasn’t laughter but screaming. I jolted awake, bolting to a sitting position and scanning the loft for Thistle. Her spot next to me on the makeshift pallet was empty, and my heart filled with dread.
    A second scream filled the loft, followed almost immediately by a roaring rumble of thunder. I rolled to my side, glancing over the edge of the loft for some sign of Thistle – or imminent danger.
    One of the horses – I couldn’t be sure which one – stamped in its stall. The storm made all of them antsy, but the scream added to their discomfort.
    “Thistle?”
    I cocked my head to the side, praying for the reassuring sound of her voice. Perhaps she was down soothing the horses. Maybe she never fell asleep and got restless. When she didn’t answer, my heart rate ratcheted up a notch.
    “Thistle!”
    She didn’t answer a second time and I crawled for the ladder, swinging my leg over and quickly descending. I was barefoot, which is a general no-no in a stable thanks to errant nails and other debris, but a tetanus shot was better than the horrible things flying through my mind.
    “Thistle!”
    The storm answered for her, the thunder shaking the building. Then I heard the scream again. Whoever made the noise was outside. I raced toward the door, my toe hitting something sharp. I swore under my breath but ignored the pain as I threw the door open.
    It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The rain came down in heavy sheets, hitting the ground so hard it bounced. The outdoor area of the stable consisted of flattened dirt, which now resembled a mud pit.
    “Thistle!”
    The sound of footsteps jerked my attention to the right. Instead of Thistle, though, I found a sopping wet teenaged girl. For a moment I thought she was in trouble and I took a step in her direction, intent on offering help. A second figure bolted out of the bushes, though, and the girl screeched when she saw it. The sound didn’t reflect terror, but glee.
    She laughed as she darted away from him, giggling as he gave chase. It was just two teenagers messing around, which was a relief. That didn’t answer the big question, though.
    “Thistle!”
    “What?”
    I jolted at the sound of her voice, swiveling quickly to find her standing in the open doorway of the stable.
    “You scared the crap out of me,” I barked, striding toward her and pulling her in for a hug. “I thought that was you screaming.”
    “I’m sorry,” Thistle said, patting my back. “I … I’m sorry.”
    She looked confused, and a little frightened. “No, I’m sorry,” I said, taking a step back. My clothing was completely soaked through. “I just when I woke up and you were gone.”
    “I went to the bathroom,” Thistle said.
    “I called for you.”
    “I didn’t hear you,” Thistle said, running her index finger down my wet cheek. “I didn’t want to wake you when I came down. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay,” I said, grabbing her hand and pressing it to my chest. “I thought you were outside and I ran out when I heard the screaming. It turned out to be two teenagers messing around in the storm.”
    “Okay,” Thistle said, reaching for the door to pull it closed. “It’s okay. It was just a misunderstanding.”
    “Yeah.” I exhaled heavily and then grabbed the door, pushing it forward so I could make sure it was locked. I cast a final glance outside, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end as I tried to shake the feeling of being watched.
    I was being ridiculous. I was sure of it. The teenagers were probably out there laughing at me.
    Still, something akin to dread crouched in the back of my mind. I stared out into the dark for a moment, but Thistle drew my attention away as she climbed back into the loft.
    “Come on,” she prodded. “The storm is still pretty active.