The Palindromes Book 1: Palindrome
Author
Morgana Ville
Reads
184K
Chapters
50
Hannah is the last witch left guarding her small town, and she knows better than to trust a stranger with pale blue eyes and secrets carved into his every move. But William unsettles her in ways she can’t explain—her magic warns her to keep away, while her heart refuses to listen. As darkness creeps closer, Hannah faces an impossible choice: hold onto centuries of hate or risk everything for a love that was never meant to be. The pull between them is dangerous, undeniable, and utterly intoxicating. And when the truth shatters the fragile line between duty and desire, Hannah must decide if she’s willing to lose herself… in order to save everyone else.
Beltane
HANNAH
Beltane May first
Witches… You might get a vision in your head when I say the word, like an old hag with big warts and a pointy hat or a beautiful woman who can make her bed with only the wisp of her wand.
I’m not saying there aren’t any with warts, but we witches are pretty standard.
I work at a diner and go grocery shopping, I hate vacuuming, but I have to do it anyway—no spells for house chores.
We do, however, perform rituals.
And it’s when the Goddess’s light shines through me that I feel magical. I can feel it in my veins and my heart.
Tonight’s ritual was significant: Beltane, one of our bigger sabbats. The circle was cast, and I’d cleansed myself in the stream.
As always, I asked for protection for my brother, whom I hadn’t seen in three years, and for a blessing for my parents.
I rarely asked for anything for myself beyond the usual, but tonight my body was restless.
The athame was warm against my body, but I felt my nipples harden at the thought of the feeling which had inhabited my skin the last week.
I hesitated some; should I say anything? I heard my mother in my mind; Don’t fret it, Hannah. She’s always there; she already knows it.
With that in mind, I fumbled the words out. “Something is happening. And I can’t see if it’s bad or good.”
“Nothing is ever only good or bad,” the voice inside me answered.
“I know, but I feel like I should be afraid, but when I try to dive into the feeling, I only feel excited.” The voice gave a merry laugh.
“Oh, you don’t know nothing yet.” I frowned; what kind of answer was that? “Are you saying I should trust the side telling me to be afraid?”
“I’m telling you to trust every side. I’m also telling you that danger comes from somewhere else than you think.”
I nearly stomped my foot; the deities weren’t known for speaking clearly.
I knew it was because free will was the foundation for every life, but sometimes I wanted to strangle the answers out.
Hard since they didn’t manifest in real. I took a deep breath and sent out a thank you to the deities.
When alone, I thanked all the elements and closed the circle. The sun was already on its way up, which explained why my body was so stiff.
I’d been in the circle for almost six hours. The fire was reduced to embers, and I grabbed the robe to warm my freezing body.
Before entering, I ensured the altar was prepped with faery food. I came from a long, long line of witches.
I thanked my ancestors as I walked up the stairs to the house. They’d built this house and kept it in the family for two hundred seventy years.
Today’s place looked nothing like the first house, but the original house was still embedded in the walls.
You might think that a house lived in by witches looked a certain way, but it was typical.
My parents had refurnished five years ago; they had only gotten two years with their new kitchen and bathroom.
When the thought of my parents popped up, I took a minute to remember them.
The lavender scent that always accompanied my mother, Aya, seemed to linger in the air.
Behind that came the faint smell of a cigar, the one thing I didn’t like about my father, Otto.
I knew it was with a wink from him that it was that scent that manifested when I thought of him.
Since I had to be at work in less than an hour, there was no time for breakfast. After a quick shower, I studied my golden eyes in the mirror.
Usually light brown, they tended to glow after a ritual like tonight’s. I hoped they would return to their standard color when I reached the café.
With an apple in hand, I took my bike to work, tired but satisfied with my Beltane celebration.
Old Mrs. Jensen waved as I cycled past her, and I raised my hand, holding the apple in salute.
I wondered what she would have said if she’d seen me dancing naked around the fire five hours ago.
The image made me laugh out loud, and Mrs. Jensen smiled, confused back. The warm air from the café greeted me, and I felt my tired brain awaken some.
Oscar, a slender man with skin that reminded me of caramel, was already in place, always smiling. We had worked together for some time.
“Did you sleep alright?” I took a clean apron and tied it around my waist. “Oscar, how are you? I’ve had nights where I’ve slept better, to be honest.”
I busied myself with the preparations, putting on the coffee, making sandwiches and pancake batter.
We chitchatted while we worked, and as soon as the clock struck eight, we opened the door.
We’re pretty busy in the mornings, so it was half-past ten till I inhaled some coffee.
Oscar came over to me and reached out a hand to tuck some stray hair behind my ear.
He blushed while doing it; I didn’t need extra powers to know he liked me. I thanked him but took a step back.
I’d tried to avoid situations that would fire upon his admiration, but he bounced back. I drank the last of the coffee and smiled big.
“Off to work again; I see Peters is running low on lemonade.” I walked away briskly and topped off his glass even though it was half full.
Peters thanked me without meeting my eyes. Our family has been here since before the town got its name, so people had respect for us.
An instinct told them that something was not quite right with the Reeveers.
The town folks knew we didn’t go to church, they knew we were liberal people, but that was about it.
Centuries of witch hunts had taught us to lay low. But in the end, we needed the community, and the community needed us.
The day went by as usual, and the lunch crowd started fading out. I was slicing lemons when a draft hit me, and the door opened.
As the bell rang cheerily, I felt a shiver down my spine. All the hair on my body stood up.
Warning bells were chiming in my head, accompanying the doorbell. This is it. The voice made me lose my grip on the knife and cut myself.
Damn that lemon juice, it made it sting, so I hurried over to the sink to wash it.
The Goddess had never spoken outside a ritual before; what was different now?
Red blood mixed with the water, swirling hypnotic before disappearing down the drain. Something was amiss. I realized the café was quiet.
I looked up and met a pair of pale blue eyes. I couldn’t tell you what the rest of the person looked like; his eyes dragged me into an abyss.
```
It was filled with pain, lust, desire, hatred, wisdom, and humor. An eternity went by before someone yanked my hand from the running water.
“HANNAH! Are you ok?” I blinked three times before I recognized Oscar. I shook my head and looked down at my hand.
The cut had stopped bleeding, and I turned off the water. I could see my hand shaking.
When I finally dared look to the floor, I saw two men sitting at the table farthest from the desk.
It had to be one of them with blue eyes, but how did they get over there so fast? I glanced at Oscar, but he seemed only concerned about me.
The chatter in the café was back to normal, or maybe it had never been quiet? Nothing seemed wrong; the feeling I’d had was subdued.
Just a tingling on my back told me that something HAD happened. “Are you alright?” Oscar asked again. I took a deep breath and gave a shaky smile.
“Yeah, clumsy me. The knife slipped.” I held my hand. “Look, it has already stopped bleeding.”
He examined the hand with too much concern; it was just a tiny cut. I assured him I was alright and told him I had to return to work.
As I grabbed my order book from the pocket in the apron, I noticed my hands were still shaking.
I took another three deep, cleansing breaths and grounded myself. I propped a smile on my face and walked over to the two newly seated customers.
“What can I serve you this fine morning, sir?” Two pairs of eyes looked up at me simultaneously; the intensity in them made me feel like prey.
I recognized the blue eyes, but the other one spoke. “We’ll have two steak sandwiches, rare, and two lemonades. With freshly cut lemons.”
He smirked at the last part. I wrote it down without meeting their eyes.
“That’s all?” The one who ordered—in my head, I made him up to be the oldest—looked at Blue Eyes with a question on his face, but they both shook their heads.
As I walked away, I couldn’t resist a look back. Blue Eyes sat with his back to me, but the other one followed my movement.
Blue Eyes dragged his hand through his dark hair and said something that made Big Brother focus on him.
I closed my eyes in prayer; I knew something terrible would happen. I would have found my silver cross if I’d believed in the Devil.
