Free The Witches Of Denmark by Aiden James Page B

still pendin’, since Ms. Bresden’s great, great granddaughter was havin’ second thoughts about sellin’ the place after the last deal fell through. But, we’ll know for sure by Friday if your friends will be joinin’ y’all in Denmark…. Isn’t that wonderful news?”
    Mom had told us that Julie Paris was sort of a blonde bimbo, who unnecessarily had embellished the facts about the Atwater house’s appointments. She obviously didn’t read my folks well, since they were ready to purchase the place as is, and gave the full asking price. Described to me as a mini-skirt wearing forty-ish gal, who wore too much makeup and spent far too long admiring my Dad, I enjoyed a clear picture in my head of how the beauty salon conversation went down…. My father’s cell phone conversation with his older brother Adrian, presently visiting Amsterdam, pulled me back to the present.
    “Well, they found us,” Dad told Adrian.  “Oh yes… it must be true. You were right, man. We should’ve taken it all the way and changed our frigging names. What? Maybe… but all that matters now is this: If they find us, they intend to resolve the issue once and for all…. Uh-huh. Well, we need you and Manuel—just get here as soon as you can. The Matei’s reasons for coming can’t possibly be good, Adrian…. Yes, that’s exactly right. A battle now looms. Uh-huh… Unfortunately, blood from the Radu’s and Matei’s will soon flow through the streets of Denmark…. Count on it.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
     
    While my family continued the debate about slipping out of Denmark and heading west, Alisia and I were relieved of our weed-pulling duties. In addition to our emancipation from toiling in the oppressive heat, I felt like I now had a helluva lot more free time to enjoy. Very strange, as only a month earlier I often felt pressed for time, despite school being over and my days occupied with the latest version of Dark Souls . Amazing what having to work and relying on better time management can do for one’s perspective.
    With all this sudden free time, and the inevitable vagabond status we were facing, I took my father up on his offer to let me tag along to Julien and Meredith’s place. The ladies in our family were out with Sadee and Meredith for the afternoon, and the urgency to monitor Grandpa’s extracurricular activities had waned since the news other warlocks would soon be citizens of the great city of Denmark. So, the prospect of hanging out a few hours with my new favorite author sounded very cool.
    Besides, I had been dying to see the inside of this amazing Queen Anne across the street. The place gave me chills as Dad and I stepped closer to the intricate spindle work atop the front porch and eves. Yeah, a little weird maybe, but a house like this has the same effect on me that meeting Justin Timberlake would have on my sis. Maybe I should take up drafting with a focus on Victorian-styled architecture, if I decide to go on to college. Even if I didn’t use a skill set like that in this generation, it might come in handy during the next hundred years or so.
    As we stepped up to the gate that was slightly shorter and more ornate than ours, a little girl accosted us. Twyla Tidwell. I should’ve mentioned her earlier, since the five-year-old is a verifiable ‘hoot’, as they say down here. Blonde, blue-eyed, and cute as a button, she roams the neighborhood, introducing herself to strangers with the tag line of ‘it’s okay for me to be here as long as I can see my house’, which sits behind the Mays’ home. I could barely see the fence surrounding her yard the first time she pulled that intro on me, right after we moved in. But before I could stop her, she had already met Grandpa and Grandma after running to our front door, and then invited herself inside our house. Despite the unusual assertiveness, my grandparents liked her immediately. Once I got over the little girl’s obstinate pushiness, I