Crying out, he hit his head again. “I see a woman. She’s... She’s sitting on the floor in front of me, her wrists tied. She’s crying. She’s quite pretty, too. I stroke her face. No!” Smacking his skull, the young lad swayed slightly.
My hand was ready to grab him, but he righted himself as he opened his eyes and looked directly at me. “I had to do it to make her see. She belongs to me.”
Our gaze held as tears trickled down his cheeks. The silence that stretched before us made me swallow hard. We were right about the killer being rejected.
“I... I don’t remember doing it, but I can see that I... I have a gun in my hand.”
He was crying hard now, sobs exploding from him and shaking his chest. The fact that he was still standing brought slight relief, although I had to be on guard, watching his body movement the whole time. If I didn’t keep him engaged, he would freak out and throw himself over.
“It wasn’t you,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Someone has cast a spell on you. Those memories are not yours.”
Rubbing a hand over his face, he smeared tears and snot over his cheeks. “No, I can see very clearly what I did. She... She thinks she doesn’t belong to me, but she’ll know soon enough that she cannot outrun me. I have to do this. I have to atone for what I’ve done.”
His leg lifted. My arm reached out. A strong breeze picked up behind us, sending my hair flying into my face and blocking my view. Diving, I aimed for his legs, but my arms wrapped around thin air as he jumped.
The wind died down as quickly as it had started. Blood rushed in my ears as the scream of the man filtered up to me before it fell silent. Leaning over the edge, I sobbed. Adrenaline kicked in when I saw a bunch of firefighters holding a catch net. The young lad landed softly, the men only just holding on to keep him safe. Shit, he had survived.
“Your colleague had the genius idea to get the fire crew involved. Good job really.”
Spinning, I scurried to my feet. My gun was in one hand, my dagger in the other. Fury slid through every cell in my body, carrying a heat so hot, I had to blink the sweat out of my eyes.
Standing there, his arms finally revealed, was the man in the demon mask. The serial killer. The bastard I was about to kill ten thousand times over.
Chapter 16
“It’s all your fault,” the demon masked man hissed as I stood motionless. “If you just did what you were supposed to, it would all be okay.”
At least the connection of the mask to the serial killer was confirmed. He obviously had more than one mask. Hopefully my team would find a way onto the roof to assist me, although I could take him down on my own.
“What’s my fault?” I’d turned diplomatic for the jumper, and now the killer.
Ignoring the fact that my tactics hadn’t worked the last time, I kept my head clear as I pulled a bit of magic up through the ley line and into the dagger. The burst of white flames that licked the dagger drew his attention. Oops. I’d forgotten that when my connection was strong, my pure witch magic could be visible. It wasn’t often. Other witches couldn’t create physical magic, only warlocks could do that with their impure magic.
“You...” Shaking his head vigorously, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a piece of paper.
On it, a splodge of blood showed the same Essex witch crest. What was the man’s obsession with our bloodline?
His arms were tanned and toned as he waved it around, letting it fly off when a breeze picked up. My stomach churned as I thought of the amount of blood that had been shed. Three women had been slain, and a teenage boy stabbed. For no reason. Every time someone had died, my magic had lessened. As much as I wanted to pretend that the connection to me was coincidental, I couldn’t.
“If you don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong, I don’t know how to fix it!”
Yeah, I was completely going to play him. He might be lulled into a false sense of security if I gamed him right. Or, he might freak out and go for me. Either way, I had my magic and that would help keep me safe.
Rolling his neck, the Essex Obssessor almost dislodged his mask. He grabbed it in time, yanking it back on violently. “You’re not understanding. Every one of you Essex witches think that you’re entitled, but why should you get everything?”
“You’ve got plenty of power yourself. I’ve felt how strong your magic is.” Playing up to his ego might help. It often did with psychopaths.
Rubbing the sweat off his neck, the killer laughed quietly, his tone becoming high pitched. His mask looked so eerie, I was almost tempted to try a spell to knock it off. However, I’d attempted that before and it hadn’t worked.
“I’m trying so hard to show you why this is happening. I thought you were more intelligent. I thought you were the best in your field, and yet... you don’t even realise that I’m draining the magic out from under your feet.”
There was no pull on the line as I dragged as much magic into me as possible. Just in case. It filtered into my body, making my aura expand, and my muscles shake.
“You have a personal grudge against Essex witches, and yet, you think you can take the ley line from one of its protectors?”
Throwing up his arms, he incited a flame barrier spell around him. What was he doing? A long flame extended towards me, only just missing the top of my head as I threw myself to the left. The smell of singed hair reached my nostrils. Oh no, he didn’t just burn my hair. The bastard would pay for that.
Planting my feet on the ground, I extended both my gun and blade. A normal bullet wouldn’t penetrate his barrier, but a supercharged magical one might.
Pressing my blade onto the barrel of the gun, I whispered a transference spell. The magic in the blade settled onto the gun, hopefully landing on the bullet. Smiling to myself, I skipped to the left, took aim and fired.
Dropping to my knees, I got low in case it rebounded off the fire. It didn’t, it broke the flame apart. The killer swore as his spell dissolved around him, causing a bit of wood nearby to catch fire. No, I couldn’t let the building catch alight. That would destroy too much, and put people in danger, even though the building had been mostly evacuated.
Whispering a water spell, I heaved a sigh of relief when the fire was doused by liquid appearing above it and falling, making the flame fizzle out loudly.
The demon masked man backed up as I got to my feet. Moving quickly, I approached him as he clasped his shoulder. I had hit him. Good. The bastard deserved to feel pain. Although, if he was like most sociopaths, he wouldn’t feel anything.
“You’re a part of the PFF.”
I grunted as I kicked my leg out towards the coward. Missing him, I spun away.
Sucking in a deep heavy breath, he spiralled back, his arms stretching out, firing blades from his hands.
Crouching, I used the muscles in my legs to push myself high in the air, bouncing off the small side that protected the roof. Twisting my body, I managed to dodge the blades that thumped into the rooftop.
“The PFF can kiss my arse! I have a mission of my own.” He laughed heartily when my boot slipped on a tiny bit of gravel on the roof, causing me to windmill my arms as I propelled forward and almost landed flat on my face. Almost.
My body was pumping energy as I got closer to him. He swung out a leg at the same time as I extended the gun. Pulling the trigger, I flicked my hand as I spun out of the way. The bullet whizzed past his ear, making the cloth of his mask move with the pressure. Ugh. Why weren’t my kickass fighting skills taking him down?
“I’ve had enough,” I muttered, letting myself drop to the floor.
As my butt hit the concrete, I sucked in as much magic by forcing my root chakra, the energy point in the coccyx that connected all humans and paranormals to Earth, to grow a cord of energy. It plunged through the roof, its invisibility allowing it to sink into the Earth beneath the foundations of the building.
As magic syphoned into me, my enemy paused, momentarily confused by my zen position on the ground. His he
sitation made it easier for me to raise a hand and mutter a spell I hadn’t used for a very long time. The part of the roof beneath his feet started to shake. At first, he looked around, obviously confused by what was going on, even though I couldn’t see his face to tell.
“I don’t think so!” he barked.
Throwing his hands to the side, he started to chant a similar spell to the one that I’d heard in the warehouse building. The magic that had been pouring into me stopped and reversed.
What the hell?
Trying to get to my feet, I struggled against the cord of energy that was connected into the ground. The ley line was pulling the magic out of me. Shit, no! I would die if my connection broke.
Heart pounding, skin sweating, I tried to energetically cut myself free from the root cord. It snapped when I used what magic I had left. Pain ripped through me as I stumbled to my feet. He was draining the ley line. I could feel how powerful he was from his aura as it intensified.
Clasping my chest, I looked at him, trying to catch my breath as the tugging under my feet made them turn as cold as ice.
“Why?” I managed to get through my teeth which were clenched.
“Gemma!” Dave’s shout was muffled.
He must have been on the other side of the door entrance to the roof.
Pausing for only a second, the demon masked witch looked at me. “Because you don’t deserve to be the keeper of the line, not when there are those out there who are more capable.”
“You have no idea what it takes to house that sort of energy.”
His shallow breath proved me right. It was almost silent under his mask, but I’d heard the struggle. No matter how much he believed he would do a better job than me, he was deluded. He wanted power, not responsibility. However, protecting the ley line was my life’s work.
Knees buckling as the icy cold crept up my legs, I fell to the ground. He was not only taking away the magic, he was killing me. And, he knew it.
“You forgot something,” I muttered as the shivering overtook and my teeth started to chatter.
Shaking his head, he didn’t even bother to pause in the spell. That was good. Clasping my hand around my dagger handle, I pushed all my remaining magic into it. Yes, it would kill me, but it would be worth it. Someone would take over my role, my mother would make sure of it.
Closing my eyes as my head grew heavy, I forced the last drop of energy to move my arm. It rose quickly, swiftly. The dagger came up beside my head. My eyes opened briefly, my aim taken. Using everything I had left, I flicked my wrist, releasing the handle of the dagger.
As I lost all my power, the dagger flew, spinning around and around until it plunged... straight into his chest. His screech was followed by the thump of his body as it crashed to the ground.
My palms caught me as I fell forward. Breathing through my nose and out of my mouth, just like Kate had taught me, I resisted for a second. It was over. For both of us. Even if Dave managed to reach me, would there be enough time to reverse the spell and get me fully connected to the ley line again?
My head was fuzzy as I allowed myself to slump on the floor. Laying on my back, I stared up at the blue sky. There wasn’t a single cloud, which made me feel lonely. My breathing became laboured, my heartbeat slow. I was going this time, I just knew it.
If only I didn’t regret not getting to know people more. My books were my world, but facing death twice had shown me how disconnected I was.
The ice travelled the rest of the way up my body, freezing me from the inside. My eyes fluttered closed as my last breath left my lungs. This was it. Goodbye world.
A crash resounded nearby, but I couldn’t move.
Why was my soul still in my body?
My heart had stopped beating, my lungs had stopped breathing.
“Gemma?” Dave’s voice was quiet as he dropped beside me.
“There’s blood here,” Jake muttered. “...but, our suspect has gone.”
Gone? What the fuck? I’d killed him, hadn’t I? I’d been about to die in the safe knowledge that I’d taken the bastard down with me. Wait. How could I still reason?
“Guys,” Dave said, tightness forcing his voice to squeak. “Gemma’s gone.”
What was he talking about? I was right here, I was just a little unconscious. Although, how I could be knocked out with the ability to think, I... Oh, man, no, no, no. I’d heard about freaky stories where people thought others were in a coma, only to find out that the person had been aware all along.
“No,” Kate breathed, her light footsteps coming closer. “It can’t be.”
As hands touched my arm, I screamed in my head. My body was technically not working, but it was only because I needed magic. My connection to the ley line needed to be strengthened.
“Let’s get her back to her place.” Someone’s arms came under me.
“Why hers? Surely we should be taking her to the morgue at MI5?” Jake’s voice was solemn.
A hiccup alerted me to Kate’s soft tears. At least someone was crying over my death. Dave and Jake had gone into matter of fact mode, not able to face the fact that I was dead. Wait. I wasn’t dead. Not fully.
“Something happened to Gemma. I’ll explain later, but I want to make sure that she’s definitely gone.”
Yes! My desk friend was my hero. When he woke me up, I’d give him a big kiss. Wait, no not a kiss. That would give him the wrong idea.
“I know you cared for her, Dave,” Kate’s voice cut through my stupid thoughts. “....but you have to let her go.”
The ice around my body was slowly starting to thaw. I could feel tiny parts of me coming to life again, but it would take time.
Time I didn’t have.
I had to do something. I had to show the others that I was still here, even if it meant talking to the ancestors and asking for their help. Something that I’d never done before. Something that would lead to harsh consequences.
Consequences that I was willing to take.
The last thing I heard before I slipped off to talk to my ancestors was my desk friend’s voice. “I don’t know how I know this,” he said quietly as he spoke near my ear. “...but, I know that she’s in there, still alive. Gemma...” His breath hitched slightly. “...I’ll bring you back, no matter how long it takes. I’ll rescue you.”
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Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by Rachel Medhurst
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published in 2018
Author
Rachel Medhurst grew up in Surrey, England. She writes to prove that no matter where you come from, you can be anything you want to be. Your past may shape you but it doesn't define you. When Rachel isn't writing, she can be found reading and walking in nature.
www.rachelmedhurst.com
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