Wild and Wicked Things

by Francesca May

One for malice Two for mirth Three for a death Four for a birth Five for silver Six for gold Seven for a secret never to be told Eight for heaven Nine for hell Ten to the devil wherever she may dwell

This girl… Whoever she is, she has a darkness inside her and it glitters like broken glass.

Perhaps the rich could better enjoy the soft scares of make-believe fortune-telling, since they hadn’t lost as much as the rest of us.

People flock to that house every weekend to get absolutely zozzled.

know we don’t always agree, but that’s what it’s like, to have a family. We understand each other even when we don’t.”

Of course, there wasn’t anything faux about some of the magic. Cilla told me once that the soil, the island itself, was prehistoric. It was full of old energy, and that was why witches had always felt at home here.

Outside the air was fresh and smelled floral sweet. The sun was harsh, scrutinising, as if the weather knew what we had done.

It was peace; it was gentle rain on my soul.

Bea was so selfish she didn’t realise the things I had done for her—the sacrifices I had made. But I gave her the space she needed. She would always be the girl I had grown with, played with; the sister I had never had. I loved her.

She had a little mole on her neck, just above her open collar. God help me, I thought without sense. I want to kiss it.

Bea shook her head sadly. “I love you, Annie, I do. But I need you to know that right now I hate you more.”

A humming brightness filled me, a wild and wicked thing. I could taste that

“Well, you can’t,” Isobel snapped. “It isn’t that simple,” she added, softer. “Emmeline doesn’t want to be helped. She won’t ask—and frankly, I’m getting tired of trying.”