Witch Possessed, page 15
My heart ached. Pain and fear made my throat grow tight, and I blinked the unwanted tears from my eyes. “So what’s next? You’ve got to help me, Gramps, because I’m out of my depth here. How do I get him back?”
Lines of sympathy creased his face, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It won’t be easy, kiddo, but you’re lucky.”
“Oh?” At the moment, I didn’t feel all that lucky.
“You belong to the most powerful coven in the city. These fuckers might have spirit magic, but we can still make them bleed.”
***
Gramps was right about the power the Mooney family brought to the table. It was why I’d called them in to make our stand against this coven tonight. As well as that had gone. But we had a better idea of what we were dealing with now. We knew what this dark coven was capable of. And that we’d need to level up a few times over if we wanted to take them down without losses.
The Mooneys were an old witch family. One of the strongest in the province, with a lineage dating back long before Canada was a country. We’d mastered atmospheric magic, and our ancestors had married into other strong families to keep the line at its best. The result was a coven of our own, with many of us sitting as representatives on the Ontario Witches’ Council and many others in strategic places across the city.
As a rule, we did our best to give back to our community, not lord over it. We protected those weaker than ourselves, kept smaller covens in line, and tried to solve problems before they had to be escalated to the council or SMOAC.
Whoever this ghoulish elemental witch was, he and his spirit witches were in for a bad time.
Especially since my family wasn’t the only resource we had.
While Gramps hopped on the phone with the rest of the coven who’d stayed home tonight, I pulled out my phone and drew up the number I’d once promised never to use. Too bad for him, I hadn’t said I’d remove him from my saved contacts.
Chip answered after the fifth ring. “If I’d known you were this bad at keeping promises, Cheers, I’d have changed my phone number.”
“They have Trace.”
“Who does?” His feigned irritation vanished in an instant, and now he was all business, something that made me feel better than I could ever say.
“The Bone Casters—or whoever they’re working for. They were waiting for us. We’d known they would be, but they were strong. And there was this guy. He looked kind of like a horror movie villain from the sixties. He pretty much told us they’d known the amulet was toast and it was Trace they wanted all along.”
“Fuck.”
“They penned him in, but Trace threw me and Gramps out of the house.”
“Gramps is with you?”
I put the phone on speaker and set it on the kitchen table. “He is. So are my brothers and cousins.”
“Nice to meet you, Gramps,” Chip said to the room, sounding more respectful than he ever had to me. “I’ve read your record. It’s impressive.”
“Thank you,” Gramps said, not seeming the least surprised that this stranger on the phone should know more about his history than his granddaughter did. “We’re about to find out how much those years were worth.”
“We’ll put them to use,” Chip promised. “What can you tell me about the house or the people who have Wyatt?”
Gramps and I gave him a description of the layout of the house, the offices in the basement, and the nature of the witches’ magic, including the rough numbers and apparent hierarchy.
“The corpsy guy was definitely their leader,” I said.
Gramps nodded. “He was always there when they questioned me about how I got the amulet. They wanted to know what souls were trapped inside it, how many, how long. They knew more about it than they said. It was more like they wanted me to confirm what they already knew rather than mining me for information.”
“What are they after?” I wondered aloud. “The same thing Corrick was? Power?”
Corrick had been looking to gain it the easy way. Because the amulet was as old as it was, whoever wore it would have been able to compel those around them. It was how the Mooney family had claimed their wealth in the first place—something I was so incredibly proud of. Not.
Even Gramps had used it to buy the pub, including the property, outright from the city for a pittance. He’d tried to destroy the amulet for decades, but no matter what he or Nana did, they couldn’t get rid of it. Magic, physical destruction—it had all bounced off the damned thing. Only when the souls had been activated and the magic around the gem weakened had it finally shattered.
Now that the souls were in Trace, did they still have the ability to compel someone? Would these witches be able to use Trace somehow to get what they wanted, or were they simply trying to hoard more souls to level up their power for something bigger?
None of it boded well. I didn’t want Trace there another hour if I could help it.
“They’re on the move,” Chip said. “I brought up some of the security cameras around the area, and they just shoved Trace into the back of that black van they carried you around in, Gramps. Didn’t look like our boy was conscious.”
A whimper escaped me, and I dropped into the kitchen chair before my legs gave out. Dylan sat in the chair beside me and wrapped me up in a hug, while the others pretended not to be listening from the living room. Gramps patted the back of my hand before returning his attention to the phone. “Are you able to follow the car?”
The sound of fingers flying over a keyboard filled my quiet kitchen. “I’ll do what I can, but the odds aren’t amazing. They’re moving fast towards Bronson Avenue.”
They could wind up anywhere in the city, and I’d be at square one.
“You try to keep track of that van,” Gramps said, not caring that he was giving orders to a stranger. “In the meantime, I’ll call in more of the family. Wyatt won’t be alone with them for long.”
Chip hung up without a goodbye, and I buried my head in my hands. I couldn’t sit around here waiting for him to call back. Even if his surveillance led us right to where this coven was heading, we couldn’t do anything without solid reinforcements and a plan.
A plan solid enough that Trace wouldn’t die if we failed.
I thought of our kiss, of how much I’d wanted so much more than that first taste of him. I would get it, regardless of what it took.
I let out a shuddering breath. “Goddess, give me strength.”
Chapter 23
Trace
I came to in a dark room. My muscles ached, my head throbbed, the souls inside me were rowdy and restless, but despite all the discomfort, I was satisfied.
More than one of the witches in that office building had been aiming for Alyssa with their next spells. Now at least she and Gramps were safe. I had no doubt she would make plans for some brave rescue attempt, but I hoped her grandfather would talk her out of it. They should focus on protecting themselves from whoever the elemental witch was. In the meantime, I would try to find my own way out.
Starting with how to escape the magic-nullifying cuffs.
My hands were bound to the armrests of a metal chair, and a hefty one at that. The back of the chair dug uncomfortably into my middle back. My spell-blocking amulet was gone. More straps held my legs, and a wider one wrapped around my chest. Someone really didn’t want me getting up.
I tried moving one of my hands, but they’d left me no wiggle room. Concerning, but I’d escaped similar situations more than once in my nine years going after Canada’s worst supernatural criminals. It might take me a while and use all my concentration, but it was doable. Probably.
While I had a single moment to myself, I made what progress I could, starting with my left leg, where the straps had a smidge more give than on any other limb. I wiggled my knee back and forth, slowly rolling my calf from one edge of the chair leg to the other. The strap seemed to be leather of some sort, so if I stretched it enough, I might be able to slide my foot out once I kicked off my boot.
I wasn’t sure how long I kept at it, but I’d made some progress by the time someone came into the room and switched on the lights. After ages in the dark, the bright LEDs washed out my vision, and I spent the next few seconds blinking away the afterimages.
When the glow cleared, I found myself staring at the corpse-like elemental witch. He wasn’t any more appealing in this lighting. His receding hair was slicked back with high-shine oil, and the bags under his eyes made him look like his skin was sloughing off. I guessed he was in his mid-seventies, but the lack of jowls or knobbly fingers suggested he was significantly younger.
His teeth were definitely dentures or caps. They had to be. They were three sizes too big for his mouth, and the result gave the impression of a Halloween decoration. It was especially noticeable when he grinned at me from the chair across from mine. His seat was the same sturdy, metal structure but lacked the straps. Shame. They really added something to the ambiance. A sort of… Fifty Shades aesthetic.
But maybe that wasn’t what he was going for.
I bit down on my stream of consciousness banter, making a note to save it for this asshole instead of keeping it all to myself.
“Nice place you got here,” I said.
His grin widened, and I wished I’d kept my mouth shut. The effect of his smile was bone chilling. The pouches under his eyes grew deeper, making his dark irises seem almost black. If the guy started spewing ooze from his mouth, I wouldn’t have been shocked.
While he sat back and appreciated my wit, I took the opportunity now that the lights were on to check out my new digs.
The room did not inspire a lot of confidence. The floor was white, the walls were white, and there was nothing I might knock over and use as a weapon if I got my foot free. My chair was bolted to the floor, so no chance of me knocking it over and gaining leverage on the bindings that way, and the door must have been somewhere behind me, because the only thing in front was Creepazoid.
“Have you taken the time to get settled?” he asked.
His voice was less haunting than I’d expected. I thought to hear some kind of Christopher Lee-type intonations, but he spoke softly and at a much higher timbre. I could imagine him doing well voicing a commercial for a furniture store or a gardening centre.
I was doing it again, using up all my one-liners in my own head. Silently freaking out. Because despite my optimistic self-talk, I had no idea what was happening or how to save myself. I couldn’t escape, my magic was nulled, and this talking corpse was smiling as though he were about to carve a Christmas turkey.
Well, fuck it. I was not going to be that turkey.
I did my best to keep my movements subtle and get back to work on stretching the strap around my left leg. At the same time, I did what I could with the minimal movement of my right wrist, making the attempt more obvious. By the twinkle in Corpsy’s dark eyes, he noticed. I just had to hope he overlooked my actual goal.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “You obviously know who I am, and what I’m carrying around with me, but I want to know how. No one else was in The Scorpio when the amulet broke.”
The man leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “You can call me David, though I suspect that before long you won’t be calling me much of anything. Of course we know who you are, Mr. Wyatt. A man of your reputation doesn’t slide under the radar in our circles. Though I believe many of my coven would simply call you Drew.”
I shuddered at the name—not only at the nasty memories it brought up of my younger years but the newer memories of Nathalie roasting in the park. When I got out of this, Andrew Wyatt was going away for good.
“As for the amulet,” David continued, “I had no idea the thing smashed. I believed it was still existing comfortably under Miss Mooney’s pub. It wasn’t until your run-in with your old coven mates that I realized what had happened. After that, my task became far more… interesting.”
That grin was back, turning my insides to water. The hair on the back of my neck danced on the nonexistent breeze, and my heart made a valiant effort to burst through my ribs.
“All right, so,” I said, impressed that my voice sounded as level as it did. I gave my wrist another wiggle and winced as the metal cuff dug into my skin. “Now that you have me, what’s the plan? Let’s stop with the mind games and get to the physical torture, shall we? I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
Now David straight-up laughed, and the sound was worse than the grin. Every minute spent in this man’s company increased my disgust. He should be grateful I wasn’t vomiting on his shoes.
“I was told you’d be good for some entertainment if I got my hands on you.”
The way he said it dumped a pail of ice water over my head. “Oh yeah? By who?”
He shook his head and clucked his tongue. “I think you’re done asking questions. You want to know what I plan to do with you? We wanted the amulet to remove the souls from the gem. The souls are now in you. You can put that big brain of yours to work to figure out the logical conclusion.”
With the cuffs on, my magical connection to the souls I carried was cut off, but that didn’t mean I didn’t sense their panic at those words.
I scowled at him. “You’re welcome to try, but I think they’re happy where they are.”
David rose from his seat and brushed down his slacks. “Then I guess we’ll have to give them a more tempting home, won’t we? This will go easier if you hand them over voluntarily, but if we have to force them out, then so be it.”
He pressed a button on the side of the chair, and the band across my chest snapped open. Before I could hope he was going to move me to an even more uncomfortable seat, he flicked his fingers, and green fire swept over my cotton-blend sweater, scorching through the fabric and singeing my chest hair. The fire spread to my back and a chill set in as more of my skin was exposed.
I clenched my teeth so I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing my pain and was relieved when the fire petered out as soon as my shirt was in tatters.
The relief was short lived as Corpsy disappeared behind me. A beep echoed through the room, and the previously white walls shifted, revealing a dozen tiny mirrors all aimed at random angles. My heart thrashed in my chest and my breaths were irregular as my brain whirled in a million directions about where this might be heading. Corpsy’s soft voice uttered an incantation, and the mirrors shone brighter under the LEDs, as though something unseen had lit the room.
Or was bouncing off the mirrors.
Heat from multiple sources hit me like white-hot pokers searing my flesh. Except I didn’t smell any burning, and the heat didn’t stay superficial. It was some kind of spell burrowing into me, and the effect was agonizing.
“We can’t cast the spell directly or you’d die too quickly,” Corpsy said. “Originally, we set up this solution to safely extract the souls from the amulet. We’re hoping it will be just as effective on you.”
He stepped back into view, his hands in his pockets, his posture casual. I glared at him, my jaw so tightly clenched I couldn’t even throw out a clever quip. I was too far past being able to pretend indifference. The souls inside me were writhing, trying to escape the battering spell, and it was all I could do to keep them in place. If they retaliated, they would be taken.
Corpsy tilted his head. “Your control over them is remarkable, but there’s only so long you can hold them back. Why not do yourself a favour and give them up? We’ll make far greater use of them than you would.”
He stood staring at me. Waiting for me to speak? Wanting to watch me suffer?
After who knew how long, he shrugged and stepped away from me. “I’ll be back in a while. We’ll give you a chance to reassess your position.”
With another wide grin, he walked by me and disappeared from sight. In another moment, the lights went out again, but this time the room didn’t go dark. The mirrors still caught the glow of the unseen magic, leaving me to stare at my own tormented reflection as the spell pressed its way into my muscle and blood.
I sucked in a breath and bit down hard as the heat flayed me from within. The souls squirmed, desperate to break out and preserve themselves but trapped by the cuffs.
Even as I held back the first screams, I understood that whatever happened, there was no way I could hold on forever.
Chapter 24
Alyssa
“Let me get this straight,” Valery said as she leaned back in her home office chair and crossed her arms. Her hair was perfectly styled despite the time of night, the dyed blond curls bouncing over her shoulders and tumbling over her silk camisole. The soft lighting in her office was designed to make her look incredible on the video call. Turned out even kindergarten teachers could be vain.
Not that I was jealous of my sister’s put-togetherness. Not even a little bit. Just because, even after a shower and a change of clothes, I felt like I’d been dragged through the mud, attacked by a raccoon, and vomited on by an angry cat was no reason for me to compare myself to Miss Perfect In the Middle of the Night.
“I still can’t believe you hooked up with Trace. Wyatt,” she said. It was like we’d picked up exactly where we’d left off on our last call. Had she been stewing about this the whole time? “Trace Fucking Wyatt, and you didn’t call me immediately to tell me every single detail? What kind of sister are you? I would have been on the phone so damn fast.”
In the direness of our situation, I couldn’t help but take Val’s reaction as the giant hug it was meant to be. A minor distraction.
There was also a not small amount of embarrassment about my younger sister implying in front of my parents that I’d had sex with a supernatural celebrity.
“We didn’t hook up,” I said. “It’s a long story, but there was no hooking up involved.” I left off the yet for my own sanity’s sake. I couldn’t handle the thought that we wouldn’t get Trace back in time for him and me to explore that particular adverb.
