Sharon Karaa The Last Challenge (Northern Witches Series #1)

  The Last Challenge

  Sharon Karaa

  About the Book

  Lauren Rutherford knows she is many things: a failed baker, an orphan, and a computer programmer. She also suspects she is ever so slightly nuts given that she often has conversations with her multiple personalities and Bad Luck is a man who seems to enjoy tormenting her at every opportunity.

  What Lauren doesn't know is that she is also a witch. She needs to learn, and fast, because the only thing between her and certain death is Agnes, her long-dead ancestor who has a foul mouth and a passion for G-strings, and Daniel, a sexy as hell male witch who drives her to distraction.

  As the last descendant of a long line of witches, Lauren is the victim of a four hundred year old curse. Her life depends on her surviving a challenge set down by three damned souls, a challenge that will take her to hell and back. Literally. And Satan doesn't do tea and scones!

  I thought I was normal, I really did, aside from the fact I had a penchant for naming the many facets of my personality. I was unlucky, I’ll grant you, but other than that, just your average twenty-five-year-old virgin.

  Then my long-dead ancestor turned up with a huge appetite (who knew ghosts could eat?), a passion for G-strings, and a scorching-hot male witch in tow.

  Throw in an unadulterated bitch of a familiar, three spirits baying for my blood, a six-inch-tall Geordie man, and my best friend Selina, and before you could say “Bubble, bubble” I was strapped onto the front of the roller coaster of my life, heading straight to Hell in a hand basket.

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  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to every woman with a little witch in her. Let her out now and again, for God’s sake!

  Contents

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Contents

  1 - Something spooky this way comes

  2 - A Spark of madness

  3 - Invisible to the eye

  4 - A Secret irritation

  5 - The soul that sees beauty

  6 - Facing the challenge

  7 - The truth is out

  8 - Don’t forget the curse!

  9 - Madness is contagious

  10 - Something in the air

  11 - A little bit of what you fancy?

  12 - A wicked web

  13 - To hell and back

  14 - Freedom

  Epilogue

  Dear reader….

  Prologue

  1 - The harpy returns

  Books by Sharon Karaa

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  1 - Something spooky this way comes

  Thunder rumbled, echoing through me as the grey clouds gathered ominously in the dark skies overhead. The wind whipped my hair into a frenzy and the ice-cold air chilled my fevered skin. The atmosphere was filled with tension. Something was about to happen.

  Something so completely outside of my previous realm of experience.

  A bolt of lightning shot across the sky followed by another roar of thunder.

  A voice whispered in my ear. “Do you accept the challenge?”

  A thrill ran through me as I raised my face to the skies and surrendered myself to the storm.

  Bring it on!

  “We’re just the same we all get desperate sometimes” blared out from the radio alarm clock and I jumped up in fright. Cat glared at me from the end of the bed, purring heavily and his tail swishing angrily. Well, that explained the thunder dream.

  Sunlight was streaming through the gap in my hastily pulled curtains and I covered my eyes with one hand and slammed the other down on the off switch to shut Paloma up. I wish I’d remembered to turn the volume back down after my mad half hour dancing with my hairbrush yesterday.

  Shit, I was late for work; no doubt the first of many things to go wrong. Bad Luck was starting early today.

  In nought to sixty, I propelled myself out of bed, ran down the stairs, fed Cat, showered, agonised over what to wear and managed to poke myself in the eye with my mascara. Wiping the black smudge into a bigger black smudge as the tears streamed down my face, I then nearly trampled poor Cat as I ran out the door. As it locked shut behind me, I remembered my keys lying mockingly on the hall table.

  Overslept. Broken eye. Keys.

  That’s three, right? Bad things come in threes? Ha! Don’t you believe it. Bad Luck doesn’t just follow me around; he’s taken up permanent residence. I guess he liked a laugh.

  I headed to the bus stop, not daring to take the car this late in the morning as I would never find a parking space. I had to jog the last ten yards to catch it and in the process…. wait for it…. managed to snap the heel on my last season, but much loved, black Dior pumps. Trying to pay my £2.10 fee with a twenty pound note almost got me thrown right back onto the street.

  Bad things come in…? I decided to stop counting.

  Sounds surprisingly normal, doesn’t it? Something everyone’s gone through at one time or another. The panic? The mad dash? Everything turning to shit?

  This day was anything but normal, only I didn’t know it yet.

  Surprisingly, the early morning traffic was very light. The bus flew triumphantly down the city streets, lulling me into a false sense of security, but it wasn’t until I actually managed to hobble the ten minutes to my office that I realised it was Good Friday and I didn’t need to be there.

  If Bad Luck was a man, and I chose to think so, he was leaning against the side of the building, pissing himself laughing. Bastard.

  It could have been that I wasn’t actually meant to have been there in the first place and the universe was kicking off at my failure to conform to expectations. Or it could just be that the start of my journey of discovery simply couldn’t be like any other day. All I knew was that by this point, I just wanted to sit down and cry. Or scream. Or both.

  Or at least give Bad Luck a good kick in the goodies.

  Kicking myself, metaphorically only as I only had one effective shoe, I decided to find a cobbler in town and fix my current predicament. I hobbled down to the back lane, the quickest route into town, and came out at the traffic lights leading to the main street. As I stopped and waited patiently for the green man to tell me to cross, I considered what I would do once I managed to solve the footwear problem. I needed to do something to fix my day. Then the light changed and several things happened at once.

  I stepped lightly off the curb only to be yanked back by a strong arm clasped tightly across my chest. The road spun out beneath me and, given my current shoe dilemma, I would have fallen flat on my arse had I not been pulled into a wall of muscle. A second later, a black BMW sped past just inches from my face.

  “Fuck!” I shouted in surprise.

  “I would be delighted!” answered a deep, warm voice right in my ear, followed by a throaty chuckle.

  I pulled away from the imprisoning arms and spun around to face my rescuer, only to find myself face to face with a tiny, bespectacled old woman.

  It would be difficult to say who looked more surprised.

  “You should be more careful, you fuck-wit! The lights haven’t changed yet!” she warbled as she turned to face the road. Did she just call me a fuck-wit?

  I looked at the lights in a daze, and sure enough, they were still on red. Then I spun around,
frantically searching the rest of the street.

  There wasn’t another soul in sight.

  The lights changed and the old dear crossed without me as I stood, rooted to the spot, still trying to understand what had just happened. I turned around in a complete circle to make sure no one was hiding behind my back, and then watched, transfixed, as she reached the other side of the road and walked off down the street. By the time I came out of my stupor, the lights had changed again and I was still stuck on the wrong side of the road. Cross with myself, I transferred my broken heal to my right hand and pressed the button again to cross.

  After finding the cobbler and fixing the shoe, I stood outside on Northumberland Street still slightly dazed. What the hell had happened there? Was I losing my marbles? I shook my head and decided I wasn’t going to be able to solve this when I so badly needed caffeine. I made my way to the nearest coffee shop, pulling my mobile out of my bag as I went. Selina wouldn’t be up yet, having worked late the previous evening, but I took the chance and called her as I waited in the queue for my espresso.

  Selina had been my best friend since college where we both studied bakery. She had taken to it like a duck to water but after six months of watching my scones sink and creating choux that tasted decidedly more like a boot, I made the brave decision to switch before I actually poisoned someone. Selina had gone on to become a pastry chef at our town’s only five star restaurant and I had gone on to study computers and now worked as a programmer for a small and going nowhere fast software house, building websites for small businesses. Programming was great. It made sense. When you entered a line of code you knew exactly what was going to happen, and nine times out of ten, you were right. My logical mind was having serious problems processing today’s strange events!

  As Bad Luck would have it, my turn at the counter came just as Selina answered the phone. I juggled two conversations, confusing everyone including myself, but eventually managed to convince the barista to come shopping and Selina to make me an espresso. Once I’d sorted that mess out, I paid for the coffee and took a seat by the window to watch the world go by as I waited for Selina to arrive.

  The town was filling up now with the usual lazy day shoppers who milled around outside stores. A young couple with a pushchair were looking in the wedding shop window as their baby played happily with his stuffed giraffe, laughing with delight as he lifted the toy and balanced it on his feet. I was smiling at his antics when movement to the left of the pushchair caught my eye.

  A pair of black Timberland boots, crossed at the ankle, was propped up against the Georgian lamppost outside the shop. My gaze travelled slowly north, feasting my eyes on the denim jeans taut against muscular thighs, the tight black t-shirt beneath a leather jacket, and the broad shoulders and arms folded across an impressive expanse of chest. Jolene, my inner slut, wolf-whistled as I lifted my head to take in the dark, curly hair before settling on the deepest and definitely sexiest brown eyes I had ever seen… staring straight back at me!

  I was mesmerised, and for a moment, I couldn’t drag my eyes away from him. My face flushed and my heart rate accelerated as heat zinged straight to my nether regions. I realised I was staring, but I was completely unable to turn my gaze away. Sexy stranger smirked as though he could read my mind, and then a clatter behind me made me whirl around.

  The child at the table behind me had decided to throw a tantrum, knocking over his mother’s well-earned and much needed coffee, said coffee now seeping into the left leg of my trouser suit. I felt the burn and jumped up to pull the material away from my leg. Grabbing serviettes from the holder, I dabbed ineffectually at the stain. The child’s mother didn’t even apologise. Pushing my hair from my face, I looked back out the window only to discover my sexy stranger was gone. With a defeated sigh, I stared down at the dark stain.

  Could my day get any worse?

  Sometimes you shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to!

  Selina eventually turned up and some four hours, £600, and an absolutely to die for sexy black Allegra dress later, we decided to have lunch.

  Spearing asparagus with my fork, I told her about my morning’s misfortunes and the vanishing hero who had saved me at the traffic lights.

  “Wow, do you think it might have been the hunk who was staring at you in the coffee shop? Maybe he followed you,” she said excitedly.

  Selina was a born romantic. She looked like a super-model. Miniature, blonde, with slightly more curves, amazing blue eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, and a cupid bow mouth that had men openly salivating, she was a knockout and a stark contrast to my five foot eight, mousy brown hair and green eyes. When we went anywhere together, it was always Selina who was the man magnet.

  “No such luck. Besides, if he was interested, why disappear in the first place?”

  “Hmmm, you never know, stranger things have happened,” she responded.

  She had that right!

  She piled her fork with risotto and lifted it to her lips before suddenly freezing, her eyes fixed over my shoulder. “Uh-oh, don’t look now, but the bitch from Hell just walked in.”

  “Has she seen us?” I asked my plate. The bitch she referred to was Lucinda, a bimbo from work who was sleeping her way up the corporate ladder. Last count, she was working on number three. She’d had an affair with Emerson, the pision Head, which secured her current post as Finance Manager, and was now setting her sights higher. She’d previously been my team leader. I was just grateful that was no longer the case.

  Selina didn’t answer but shifted her gaze to the left with a tight smile on her face. “Lucinda, how erm… nice to see you.”

  “Hi you two, enjoying your Easter break?”

  I felt her talons on the back of my chair and looked up into her over-made eyes and fake smile.

  “Hi Lucinda,” I answered, trying to hide the leg with the coffee stain further under the table.

  “I’ve been out shopping for a new outfit for the party tonight. You’re coming, right? We should all do our bit to celebrate John’s success.” she said, arching her eyebrow.

  John was the owner of the company we both worked for and Lucinda had had her sights on him for a while now. She talked as if they were an item but I knew he hadn’t yet taken the bait. I knew this because one; I paid attention, and two; I’d overheard him telling someone that he was going alone tonight. I’d had a secret crush on him since he’d been part of the panel who interviewed me for my job almost a year ago and that news thrilled me. The party tonight was to celebrate winning the UK IT Industry Award for one of our projects, and wild horses wouldn’t keep my away.

  “Oh yes, we’ll be there.” I looked her straight in the eye. She looked away first.

  “You know Lauren…” she tossed her blonde tresses over her shoulder and smiled at me slyly, “…you might even meet someone who makes it to two dates.”

  My temper got the best of me and I half-rose in my chair, a ready fork still in hand. Selina stamped covertly on my foot.

  “Your roots are showing Lucinda, I do hope you plan on a visit to the hairdressers before tonight,” Selina said as she glanced at me and winked.

  Lucinda’s face went pink. “Really? I’d better go and see if they can fit me in!” she rushed out of the restaurant, like the Devil himself was chasing her, oblivious to the fact that she almost lost her teeth. I loosened my grip on the fork.

  It was common knowledge that I had the worst luck when it came to men. My string of failed first dates would have been comical, if it wasn’t so tragic. The only man who I’d managed to get past the first date curse was Wayne Coolidge, back in college. We’d almost made it to first base when he’d trapped his willy in his zipper. Later, I’d found out he was gay and I was just his little experiment. Bad Luck had a sick sense of humour.

  “… and breathe!” Selina coached, reaching for my hand across the table. “Don’t let her get to you. You’re better than that!” She patted my fingers as I counted to ten thousand.
In binary.

  I sank back into my chair, deflated. “Knowing my luck, she’ll probably shag John right in front of me.” I dropped my fork back onto the plate, having lost my appetite.

  “Don’t be such a baby! You’re going to primp yourself to perfection and knock the smile off that silly cow’s face!”

  I looked at her and thought about what she’d said. My new dress was a knockout and I’d lost a little weight recently, most of it off the boobs unfortunately, but a push up bra and some chicken fillets and I’d be good to go. My natural optimism kicked in and I grinned at the thought of seeing Lucinda’s face when John finally acknowledged that he needed a mousy nerd in his life and not a busty blonde.

  “You’re a treasure, you know that?” I said, smiling at Selina.

  She smiled back. “Come on, it’s time to accessorise!”

  After another quick bout of shopping, Selina dropped me back off at home. After opening my door for me so I could liberate my keys from the hall, she drove off shouting instructions to me to make sure I was ready on time. As if! I only had three hours to get ready for the party, it would be touch and go.

  Two hours and fifty-nine minutes later, I was ready which just goes to show that miracles can happen. Personally, I think that Bad Luck must be taking a nap after his early start. The bastard had to be worn out after the day he’d given me.

  The dulcet tones of “Doncha Wanna” by Anastasia blasted from the CD player as I checked myself out in the full length mirror. I was wearing the killer dress I’d bought that day, floor length with a cowl neck that showed a hint of cleavage. A short bolero jacket hid my puny shoulders. My hair had been back-combed to within an inch of its life, clipped up with a diamante comb, and hung wispy around my face. My make-up was immaculate. Coal black eye liner and high gloss lips. Shoe of choice today was Prada black pumps with a six inch heel. I couldn’t walk straight but they made my legs look great. Lucinda could flash her boobs at John all she wanted, but tonight, I would make him notice me!