Empyrean Witch: Demigoddess Chronicles Book 1, page 1
Chapter 1 - Cassie
Chapter 2 - Julia
Chapter 3 - Julia
Chapter 4 - Julia
Chapter 5 - Kiaran
Chapter 6 - Kiaran
Chapter 7 - Cassie
Chapter 8 - Cassie
Chapter 9 - Julia
Chapter 10 - Julia
Chapter 11 - Cassie
Chapter 12 - Julia
Chapter 13 - Julia
Chapter 14 - Kiaran
Chapter 15 - Julia
Chapter 16 - Julia
Chapter 17 - Cassie
Chapter 18 - Julia
Chapter 19 - Cassie
Chapter 20 - Cassie
Chapter 21 - Cassie
Chapter 22 - Julia
Chapter 23 - Julia
Chapter 24 - Julia
Chapter 25 - Julia
Chapter 26 - Julia
Chapter 27 - Julia
Epilogue
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I always thought the gods were a myth. Then again, I thought the same thing about witches.
I'm no stranger to darkness. I've been dealing with it all my life. That's just part of being a “mutant psychic.” I see things and know things that, most of the time, I'd be better off not seeing or knowing. But when my witch powers start to manifest, my life takes a new direction entirely. Suddenly, I’m recruited by the Shadow Order, a supernatural agency dedicated to the protection of the covens. My primary task? To read supernatural murder scenes. Trust me, at that point the word “dark” takes on a whole new meaning.
When one of those crime scenes opens a door between me and a trio of dark goddesses hunting for a talisman, I seriously start to reconsider my life choices. Especially when those same goddesses start hunting me. Maybe it's a case of mistaken identity. I'd really like to think so. But the feeling I’m getting is that they know just who and what I am, while I'm still trying to figure that part out for myself. And when I meet an irresistibly alluring stranger who seems to know me better than I do, I really have to wonder. Because if what he tells me is true, I too carry the blood of the gods in my veins, and only I can unlock the magic needed to save the human race.
Chapter 1 - Cassie
Cassie watched in her rearview mirror, her lips parting in surprise as a motorcycle pulled up to park behind her. Yes, the timing was right. It was almost four-thirty, which was when she’d told Julia to meet her in front of the house. Still, it had to be someone else. What would Julia be doing on a bike? Unless…
No way.
Cassie kept staring as the rider killed her engine. She got off her bike and removed her helmet to reveal a shock of short blonde hair accented with blue. She placed her helmet on the seat and stepped to the sidewalk, where she stood waiting.
Come on. Seriously?
Cassie got out of her car and joined Julia on the sidewalk. She gestured at the motorcycle, with its gleaming copper-colored gas tank and shiny chrome tailpipes. “So… what’s that about?”
Julia arched her eyebrows, a smile tugging at her lips. “You don’t like it?”
“Sure, it’s nifty. Please tell me you borrowed it.”
Julia shook her head. “Nope. I always wanted one. You know that.”
True, Cassie did know that, just as she knew most things about Julia. It’s hard not to know pretty much everything about someone you shared a body with for fifteen years. Still, she’d always hoped Julia wasn’t serious about the whole motorcycle thing. Just like she’d once fantasized about being a Powerpuff Girl or, years later, marrying Nick Jonas. Needless to say, she no longer dreamed about battling a monkey with aspirations of world domination. As for Nick Jonas, not her type, although Cassie had to admit she kind of liked their new song.
But they didn’t really have time for this now, did they?
So, they walked toward the house and climbed the front steps, then stood side by side on the porch. A moment passed in silence as they shuffled on their feet.
Julia nodded toward the doorbell. “Are you planning to ring that thing, or are we just here to loiter?”
Cassie ignored the quip, not quite ready to let it go. “Motorcycles are dangerous as hell. You know that, right?”
Julia shrugged. “Compared to what?”
Okay, fair enough. Given that the two of them had recently battled both vampires and demons—in two realms, no less—Julia did have a point. In fact, it was something of a miracle they remained alive to take care of something as mundane as a supernatural cleanup job. Which reminded Cassie of why they stood in front of this house in an upscale Richmond suburb.
She relented and rang the doorbell, then spoke softly. “Remember what I said.”
Julia nodded. “Right, don’t mention magic in front of clients. Or the possibility of being a witch.”
The possibility of being a witch.
As far as Cassie was concerned, Julia was a witch. She had to be. Although, in truth that was yet to be determined. And define witch, for that matter. There were different kinds of witches—elementals, hedge witches and necromancers, to name a few. And, of course, there were veil witches, the category to which both Cassie and her sister belonged. Veil witches possessed a distinct connection with the barrier between this world and others, their primary purpose being to protect the human realm from supernatural trespassers. To complicate matters even more, Cassie and Autumn were part fae, which further shaped their magic differently.
As for Julia, she’d only recently started to manifest her witch magic. And only after Beatrice—their mentor mage at the Shadow Order—decided to recruit Julia upon witnessing her psychic abilities. Clairvoyant skills so remarkable that Cassie had long joked about them being Julia’s mutant powers. Ultimately, where Julia fit into the world of witches remained to be seen. Although, Cassie didn’t doubt that her magic was unique. So far, unclassifiable.
The front door opened and a woman looked out at them. Jennifer Coleman, Cassie assumed. She was attractive and young, in her mid-thirties at the most. They’d spoken twice. Once during Jennifer's first tentative call regarding the problem at her house, and again this morning when confirming their appointment. Jennifer had wavy auburn hair and hazel eyes. She wore a white blouse and a navy skirt. A man stood behind her, presumably her husband. He was blonde and handsome, dressed in crisp dark slacks and a button down shirt. Wasn’t this a Saturday? What was it with rich people? Were they forbidden to buy sweatshirts? Were they forced to surrender their jeans at the middle class border?
Jennifer looked back and forth between Cassie and Julia, doing a pretty good job of keeping her expression neutral. Cassie had to hand it to her, given that she herself wore a leather jacket, faded jeans torn at one knee and an old Imagine Dragons t-shirt. She also looked years younger than her actual age, she knew. That was a veil witch thing. So, essentially, Jennifer saw what appeared to be a raven-haired girl, maybe in her early twenties, with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Of course, what Jennifer didn't see were Cassie’s pointed ears, which she kept hidden with a glamour.
“You must be Cassie,” Jennifer said.
Cassie shook her hand. “Yep, and this is Julia.”
Cassie hadn’t mentioned bringing anyone with her, but she figured that wasn’t really the Colemans’ business. They needed supernatural pest control and there weren’t a whole lot of choices out there. Actually, as far as Cassie knew, she was the only real option. So, she figured it was up to her if she brought Julia along to show her the ropes. Not that she expected Julia to start picking up gigs as a ghost bouncer. She just wanted to expose her to as much as possible, now that she was coming into her powers.
“Please, come in.” Jennifer opened the door wider, although Cassie couldn’t help but notice the skeptical glance she exchanged with her husband.
“Hi, I’m Mark.” He shook hands with both of them, sizing them up along the way. He didn’t look impressed.
None of this bothered Cassie. She was used to it, and frankly didn’t care. All of her clients started off skeptical, mainly because they didn’t want to believe in the supernatural to begin with. Typically, they remained in denial for as long as possible, stuck between a logical rock and metaphysical hard place. Cassie also knew that, in the end, they’d try throwing a little cash at the possibility of getting their issue resolved. It was either that or continue living with whatever was giving them the heebie-jeebies.
Jennifer guided them through the spacious foyer and into an expansive, tastefully decorated living room. “Can I get you something to drink? Water or juice? I could make some coffee if you’d like.”
Cassie considered going for the coffee. She mooched caffeine whenever possible, and undoubtedly the Colemans bought top-notch beans. On the other hand, that would only slow things down. She could always dig around in their kitchen once she and Julia had the place to themselves.
“I think I’m good,” Cassie said, looking at Julia to be sure.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” Julia said.
Mark offered something resembling a smile. “Well then, let’s get down to business. Shall we?”
Yeah, his tone remained skeptical. He’d probably try getting his wife to change her mind, even though he didn’t have any better ideas.
Jennifer gestured to the sof
Once they were seated—Cassie next to Julia, and Jennifer and Mark across from them—Cassie kicked things off. “So, what seems to be going on here?”
Jennifer and her husband exchanged glances again, his unspoken message being that she’d gotten them into this by calling Cassie. The ball was in her court.
“We keep hearing something.” Jennifer hesitated, and then added, “It sounds like a dog.”
Just to be sure, Cassie turned to Mark.
“I’ve heard things too,” he admitted, “but I bet it has to be one of the neighbors’ dogs.”
“None of our neighbors have dogs,” Jennifer said. “At least none of our immediate neighbors.” She pointed at the window. “The houses across the street haven’t even sold yet.”
“This is a new neighborhood,” Mark explained. “Until recently, all of this was farmland. Apparently, the original farmhouse sat on this same piece of property. Regardless, it’s not like we haven’t seen people walking their dogs. That’s probably what we’re hearing.”
Jennifer shot him a look.
Mark shrugged. “Okay, I admit the sounds have seemed kind of close.”
“Like upstairs,” Jennifer said. “Sometimes down the hall. And occasionally in the same room.”
Cassie frowned. “What kind of sounds?”
“Dog sounds,” Jennifer said. “Growling, barking and… sometimes panting.” Her cheeks flushed and she added, “We’ve felt things too.”
“I haven’t felt anything,” Mark said.
Jennifer’s eyes flashed at him. “Well, I have.”
Cassie turned her attention back to Jennifer. “What have you felt?”
Jennifer’s blush deepened. “Um, it touches my leg sometimes.”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, honey, that has to be your—”
“It’s not my imagination! I swear, the damned thing keeps humping my leg!”
Ew. No wonder Jennifer went out on a limb and called her friendly local supernatural cleanup service. Who needed a horny ghost dog roaming around? Was there any way to neuter a ghost dog? Probably not. That is, if it was just a ghost dog. The verdict remained out on that one. Although, Cassie wasn’t experiencing the skin-crawling edginess she usually felt around demons.
“Look, here’s the thing,” Jennifer said. “Mark and I would like to start a family soon. Which is why we moved here to begin with. I know the whole thing sounds crazy, but…”
Her words trail off and she shrugged, but she’d made her point. She just wanted her house to be safe.
”It doesn't sound crazy at all,” Cassie said. “I’ve encountered ghost pets before.”
Jennifer perked up. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
Which was true, she had. In particular, an understandably deranged kitty hanging out in a house once occupied by an axe murderer. Cassie decided not to go there, especially since Jennifer turned to Mark and said, “See, honey? It happens.”
Mark sighed, but apparently decided to keep his thoughts to himself. At least regarding whether he thought his wife had to be imagining having her leg humped by an invisible dog. “So, how does this work?” he said. “You prove to us that there’s some sort of ghost and then we pay you?”
Why was it always the guys trying to negotiate this part? It wasn’t like Cassie didn’t make her terms clear from the start. She shook her head. “As I told Jennifer on the phone, I get paid up front. I remove any and all supernatural presences or you get your money back. Satisfaction guaranteed.”
Mark’s brow furrowed as he looked at his wife. “I’m sorry, but that just seems—”
“We talked about this,” Jennifer said. “You saw the same reviews I did.”
Reviews? As far as Cassie knew, she only had one. It had been posted to Yelp by the Barwins, the same couple who’d bought the river house once occupied by the axe murderer. From the sounds of things, she’d gotten at least one more. She’d bet anything it came from Martha Sanders, the lady in Petersburg stuck with a ghost who kept dumping brandy on her floor. The ghost turned out to be a maid named Dorothy who’d worked in the house nearly a century ago, and who’d since imagined herself staying drunk on pilfered booze. Dorothy also had a thing for messing with Martha’s underwear drawer, often leaving fruit inside her bras and vegetables in her panties. She’d been one very strange ghost.
“Yes, I read the reviews,” Mark said. He looked at Julia, then Cassie. “I’m sorry, but how can we know who really wrote them?”
Cassie shrugged. “Like I said, satisfaction guaranteed. But if you’d rather call someone else, I completely understand.”
Cassie started to get up, but Jennifer held up her hand. “Please, wait.” She turned to her husband. “Honey, it’s only three-hundred dollars. I think it’s worth a try.”
Which was pretty much what Cassie had expected. How many other supernatural cleanup businesses in Richmond had glowing Yelp reviews? Exactly none, the last time she checked.
“Okay, fine,” Mark said. “How do we proceed?”
He wasn’t going to like this part either. “You leave and we get to work. I’ll call once we get rid of your pest.”
Mark’s mouth dropped open, but Jennifer placed a consoling hand on his arm. She spoke softly. “Remember the reviews, honey. Come on. It'll be fine. We need to go shopping anyway.”
If anything, the idea of shopping appeared to darken Mark’s mood even more. Still, he got up from the sofa and followed after his wife. Good thing this was a new marriage, Cassie thought. Give it ten years and Mark probably would have stuck to his guns just to avoid shopping. At least she could empathize with him on that score. Cassie hated shopping. Hence her wardrobe, half of which she’d stolen from Autumn’s castoffs when she got her body back, the other half gained by rummaging through the racks at thrift stores. So, she smelled like a big mothball most of the time. It still beat going to the mall.
Once the Colemans made their exit, their shiny new BMW firing to life outside, Julia raised her eyebrows. “What now, boss?”
Cassie rose from the sofa. She stretched and yawned. “First, we raid the pantry. Bet you anything they have killer cookies. Then we see if there’s a ghost hanging out in this place.”
“Oh, there’s totally a ghost,” Julia said. “But you’re wrong about the cookies. Jennifer is allergic to gluten.”
Cassie sighed, since she didn’t doubt that Julia was right on both counts. Not that she minded dealing with a ghost, but she’d really been hoping to score some free cookies.
Chapter 2 - Julia
I could tell Cassie wasn’t happy. Not at all. For one thing, I’d been right about the cookies. On top of that, the Colemans shelves held only one old, forgotten-looking bag of store brand coffee. I totally knew Cassie had been thinking about brewing up a pot of something gourmet. Now, that was a no-go and she looked pretty darned grumpy about it. Raiding the pantry was Cassie’s favorite part of her supernatural cleanup business, and the Colemans’ kitchen looked to be a bust unless you were looking for healthy alternatives.
Not that I read Cassie to know any of this. For one thing, I drew the line when it came to peering into my best friend’s mind. Besides, I didn’t have to. We shared a psychic link resulting from all the years that I hosted Cassie’s consciousness. That whole deal started when I was eleven, back when I was still just figuring out that I was different. I'd been able to see things that others couldn't, and know when things were going to happen. The world had been a mysterious and oftentimes overwhelming symphony of thoughts, feelings and impressions that I only later learned stemmed from my psychic abilities.
On the day that I met Cassie—well, encountered her might be the better way to think of it—I was sitting on my front porch drawing manga characters in my sketchpad. It was late spring and my father was keeping busy in the garage while my mother made dinner. Suddenly, I sensed a presence nearby. In and of itself, that wasn’t really unusual. I’d sensed presences before plenty of times, seen people others couldn’t see. Like the sad woman who sometimes stood at the window of my grandparents’ kitchen, or the chubby man in black who walked through the park near our house. The difference being that, this time, I didn’t see anyone. Instead, this was a presence I felt. Intensely, palpably, like there was nothing in the world that could filter out the raw panic, fear and confusion that suddenly surrounded me.
