The Witch's Wrath: Supernatural Suspense Thriller with Ghosts (Jigsaw of Souls Series Book 2)

by Ian Fortey

  “Going back to see what she’s up to in there,” Vincent whispered.

  “You’re going to end up in the basement again if they catch you. They’ll make a worse curse you can’t escape or something,” Fix said.

  “No, she won’t even be expecting me. She’ll be thinking I’m far away by now,” Vincent said. “It’s a good plan.”

  “What’s a good plan?” Dezzy asked, creeping up behind him.

  “Spying. We need to figure out where the blood magic’s coming from. These witches can help get Selena out of my head. We just need to convince them that I didn’t kill her.”

  He crept around the house to the side path and stood up, peering through a window.

  Abigail was in the house talking to herself. She paced back and forth in a small living room. Vincent stayed low, peeking over the window ledge. The glass reflected Selena’s face back at him.

  “This is stupid,” she said. “Just let me talk to her.”

  “What if she’s the one using blood magic?” Vincent said.

  “Abby doesn’t know how to use blood magic,” Selena said.

  “You sure about that?” Vincent asked then.

  Inside the house, Abigail was shouting even though she was alone. As Vincent watched, red bursts of blood magic peppered the surrounding air. The red light grew deeper and richer.

  “Of course,” Selena said. She could not see the blood magic. She couldn’t see what Vincent was seeing.

  Something rose from Abigail’s back. At first, it looked like nothing more than shadows in the room hitting her at odd angles. And then an arm appeared.

  A slender figure pulled itself free from Abigail’s body, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. The blood magic burst violently, casting the scene in an eerie red glow.

  “That’s one angry spirit,” Dezzy over Vincent’s shoulder.

  “You can see her?” Vincent asked.

  “The ghost? Oh yeah, man. She smells ripe with blood, too. There was a real bad bargain made here by someone.”

  The figure freed itself from Abigail and stood alone and unfettered in the room. She was a slight woman, wearing an old-style dress. Her neck was bruised and bent in such a way that her head hung crooked.

  “Goddess above, it’s Maggie Huxley,” Selena said. Her eyes were wide as she stared through the window.

  “Who’s Maggie Huxley?” Vincent asked.

  “A corpse. This is impossible,” Selena said. Vincent stared at the spirit and tried to reach for it with his mind. He let a thin strand of necromancy seep into the house, directing it carefully towards the woman Selena had called Maggie.

  Vincent’s necromancy hit the blood magic around the spirit and fell apart like tissue in water. If the spirit had any necromancy fueling it, he couldn’t sense or reach it in any way.

  “I didn’t know blood magic could raise spirits of the dead,” Vincent said. Maggie spoke in hushed tones to Abigail, who responded with anger and frustration. They were arguing, but Vincent could not hear what they were discussing.

  “Is it truly blood? I can sense nothing from her. Abby, what have you done?” Selena said.

  “Was Maggie a friend?” Dezzy asked. Selena shook her head.

  “A woman like so many others. Persecuted. Abused. Killed before her time. But that was generations ago. Her spirit was bound to Widow’s Cave in the woods. That’s where I met her. Her plight inspired my entire mission, to right these wrongs. If only I had been given the power I was promised…” Selena’s expression was angry. She looked at herself in the window’s surface. She looked at Vincent.

  “If you hadn’t betrayed me,” she said.

  Vincent sighed. He did not want to rehash this argument and spin in circles again.

  “What can we do now? What is your friend doing with a ghost that uses blood magic?”

  “I don’t know, Vincent. Let me talk to her and I will find out.”

  “Except she’ll try to kill us before she ever believes I’m you,” Vincent said. His own hand raised, uncontrolled by his thought or will. It pointed into the house.

  “Look. Mirrors there, there, and there,” Selena said, pointed at various surfaces around the room. “Stand in front of any of them and I can speak.”

  “She might just think it’s a trick,” Dezzy offered. “I would. You’re very tricky, Vincent.”

  “Not helping, buddy,” Vincent said.

  “She’ll know it’s me. Do you have a better plan?”

  “I have nothing,” Fix said.

  “No. Not really,” Vincent said.

  “Then trust me. You want me to trust you? You claim you know nothing about our past? Show me. Trust me! My sister is manipulating powers beyond her ability and I need to know why.”

  “Yeah, and cursing cupcakes. Ask about that,” Dezzy added.

  Vincent exhaled loudly, rubbing his hands down his thighs. Abigail and Maggie were talking heatedly in the room. Abigail was agitated and pacing circles. Maggie’s stiff and hunched over form remained still.

  “God, I’m an idiot. Alright, let’s do it. Dezzy, you should go hide again. I may need to be rescued from that damn basement in a minute if they set a new curse.”

  “Cool. Don’t though, because it was awful down there and I don’t think there are any more werewolves handy. Oh, ask about the werewolf, too. That can’t be good for tourism.”

  Dezzy put his arms around Vincent quickly. He pulled him in for a tight hug.

  “Be careful, man. And lady. This town smells like a trash salad of magic right now.”

  “I will, Dezzy. We will, right?” Vincent said. He looked in the window. Selena looked back at him.

  “I give you my word I am not trying to harm you. Not right now,” she said.

  “Comforting,” Fix said.

  Dezzy crept back across the lawns to take up his hiding place beyond the neighbor’s tree, vanishing behind whatever glamor hid the property from the outside world as he did so. Vincent walked around to the front of the house, staying low so Abigail would not see him through the window.

  “Do we knock?” he said, looking at his reflection in the fake brass mailbox. Selena’s distorted and yellow face shook her head.

  “We have one chance, I think. Surprise her. Just get in front of a mirror as fast as you can, I’ll handle it from there.”

  Vincent nodded and put his hand on the doorknob.

  “I trust you, Selena,” he said. He didn’t know why he said it. Part of him did not trust her. She had been very open in her disdain for him. And in her belief that he had betrayed and killed her. He couldn’t argue that she was wrong to believe it, either. She was there, and he was not. Not in any way he could remember.

  What he did feel from Selena was sincerity. Maybe even righteousness. She was not like Bogdan Dalca had been. Whatever they had done together, the three of them, along with the others, had been towards a goal. They were looking for power. But Bogdan’s goal was dark. Vincent did not get that feeling from Selena. He trusted that she had wanted to do something good. And the fact she had been duped into working with Bogdan Dalca made it all the more confusing. Another reason he needed to know what happened in that field and why.

  The surface of it seemed clear. Vincent had assembled a group of people who could use magic. Different kinds of magic. And they used their powers to perform some act. Some kind of ritual. And then they were murdered for it. If Selena was to be believed, Vincent murdered them.

  Vincent had doubts. He couldn’t deceive himself about that. Doubts about who he truly was. About whether he was a good man or not. The evidence was mounting that he was a monster on par with Dalca, or even worse. But he couldn’t help shaking a feeling that things were not so simple.

  If Vincent was a killer, and he had used a powerful witch, and a necromancer, and others to do something, then what had gone wrong? There was no way his plan was to wipe his own memory and have ghosts in his head. Something else had
happened.

  Vincent turned the doorknob and pushed his way into the house. He ran forward, letting the door slam against the wall as he barreled into the room. Abigail’s expression went from surprise to rage in mere seconds. Maggie Huxley only smiled, and Vincent found that even more unnerving.

  “Don’t kill me, I’m not who you think—” Vincent began, running with his hands up. He maneuvered between a large mirror and the flatscreen TV, both of which reflected the image of Selena back.

  “You must be—” Abigail started, raising her hands as threads of cool, blue primal energy rose from her body.

  “Selena Elliot, Abby. Your sister. Your friend,” Selena said, lowering Vincent’s hands. His voice was now her voice. Abigail continued casting and Selena pointed to the mirror at her left, the TV on the other side of the room.

  “Look with your eyes, sister. See me,” she said. Abigail glanced at the mirror. Her spell faltered, the blue energy crumbling in her hands as whatever she was conjuring faded.

  Abigail stared at her sister’s reflection, and then at Vincent. Primal energies pool at her feet, half conjured but unused for now. Maggie Huxley had yet to move. Her twisted neck held her head at an angle that made her look perpetually curious.

  “What trick—”

  “No trick, Abby. It’s me. The same Selena who showed you how to conjure a wisp on the solstice after your mother passed on. The same Selena who gave you the recipe for maple walnut cupcakes my grandmother swore was given to her by Martha Washington.”

  “Martha Washington never made a cupcake in her life,” Abigail said. Selena smiled and laughed.

  “No, no she didn’t. Grandma Elliot liked to exaggerate.”

  “Yeah,” Abigail said. “What did he do to you?”

  Selena shook her head. Shook Vincent’s head.

  “I do not understand what happened, Abby.”

  “We buried you, Selena. We found your body in a field where terrible things happened. Horrible things,” she said.

  “I know. I was tricked by... I don’t know who did it,” she said.

  “You do,” Maggie said suddenly. “We all know! This thing you’re wearing, this garment of man-meat. He is who betrayed you.”

  “Maggie. I did not know you could leave the cave, sister. It is good to see you.”

  “I wish I could say the same, Selena. But all I see is the man who consumed your powers.”

  Selena looked from Maggie back to Abigail.

  “What do you see, Abby?”

  “I see the ghost of my friend trapped inside her killer. We can save you, Selena. We can peel him off of you like a scab.”

  “I know you can. But it is not as simple as that. I do not believe there is a balance in punishing Vincent Donnelly for my death.”

  Abigail’s expression became enraged again. Tears ran down her cheeks, but her tone was harsh.

  “How can you say that? How can you stand there, inside the man who’s using your power as his own, and tell me he deserves mercy?”

  “Because I don’t know for sure if he killed me!” She barked the words, and Vincent was surprised to hear them. He did not think she really felt that way. Abigail looked baffled.

  “Your spirit is trapped within him and you can say that still?”

  “I am inside his head. Yes, it doesn’t make sense. But he does not remember killing me. He didn’t even know who I was.”

  “You believe these things about this man? You trust his words against your own memory?” Maggie said. Vincent did not like the cold and calm way she seemed to be taking everything in. She was not reasoned and level-headed as he had thought at first. She was determined. Abigail’s emotions were a rollercoaster right now. But Maggie was radiating anger. The calm, dangerous kind of anger of someone who has planned vengeance.

  “I trust that I cannot stay true to what I believe is right if I try to get revenge on a man who doesn’t even know he has wronged me. Where is the justice in punishing a fool for being a fool?”

  “What of your justice?” Maggie said. Vincent could see the blood magic boiling around her. “You concern yourself with the poor, ignorant man. What a crime for him to be accused of that which he does not remember. Does a drunken lout not need to take responsibility for the beatings he inflicts, because he cannot remember them under the light of day? Does a man who fires a pistol blindly not need to be held accountable when the ball finds the soft flesh of a stranger? If ignorance were a defense, then mankind would be deemed innocent as angels!”

  “He killed you,” Abigail said. “He stole your power, and he came here to do the same to us!”

  “No,” Selena said. “I don’t know why he did what he did before. But I know he did not come here to harm the coven. Of that, I am sure.”

  “He tortures you still,” Maggie said.

  “He does nothing,” Selena countered. Maggie looked at Abigail.

  “This is not the Selena Elliot I knew. The strong, fearless witch. This is a man using her spirit like a puppet. Trying to trick us as he tricked her.”

  “What has he done to you, sister?” Abigail asked. She began conjuring again.

  “Bring our sisters here,” Selena pleaded. “Let them see me. And together we can find a way to free me from this man. Then he can leave and I can be put to rest.”

  Abigail shook her head. Blue energy cascaded upward from the floor, running to her hands. The red flashes around Maggie grew in intensity. She began to hobble toward Abigail's body, her blood magic blending into Abigail’s primal.

  “We will free you and I will take back your power,” Abigail said. “It is how things must be.”

  “Take back? My power is not yours to take, sister,” Selena said. Abigail shook her head. Maggie reached out a thin, pale arm, touching Abigail’s shoulder.

  “He took it from you! It was not his to have.”

  “Nor is it his now. My power belongs to me, sister. It always will,” Selena said. Maggie wrapped her body around Abigail, hugging her from behind.

  “I am following your teachings, sister. I will see your plan through, but I need your power to do it. I need more,” the witch said.

  Selena could see the growing power of the conjuring that Abby was trying to wield. It was more power than she was ever able to draw from the Goddess before. The latent energy of the town, the power that seemed to be lingering like leaves on the forest floor. It was all flowing to Abigail now. But Selena did not understand where it was even coming from.

  “My plan failed, sister,” Selena said. Abigail shook her head.

  “No. You failed, Selena. But your plan will work. I will draw the life from this town and reach back across time to burn it from every man, woman, and child who murdered our sisters. All the way back to Maggie. I will save them all.”

  “Our sisters will never stand for this. They will not let you destroy me and steal my power,” Selena said.

  “They will never know you were here. Just a man, from whom I took it back,” Abigail said. She merged with Maggie, as though she was absorbing the ghost. Their powers coalesced. The raging surge of primal energy became infused with blood magic, and it boiled like a river on fire.

  “You would kill me a second time?” Selena said. Abigail shook her head. Her face was behind a wall of roaring blue energy now. It spiked up all around her, exploding with bursts of blood magic and still growing stronger.

  “You’re already dead, sister. And for that I am so sorry. But I will fulfill your dream, and I will save the sisters of the past. I will make it right.”

  “I was never going to murder the people of this town, Abby. I was going to save them! The point was to prevent death.”

  “They need to be punished!” Abigail roared. Only the voice was not hers. It was Maggie’s. The rage that came from her was unmistakable.

  “Oh, Maggie. How angry you must have been. Centuries in that cave, chased from your home. Hunted like an animal for protecting yourself. Bu
t you cannot punish people who had no hand in it. That is not the way of the Goddess.”

  “I was never a witch, Selena. I never knew your Goddess! I spent my days making soup! I mended socks and gathered wild leeks. I tended to a goat and swept the floors. I toiled. I prayed. I worked and laughed and did not even know of magic. And look what they did to me! Look what they did because I would not let my husband kill me!”

  She screamed the words. Her blood magic rose beyond mere bursts of red. It was roiling like lava bursting from a volcano now.

  “And the people in Burnham today? What have they done?”

  “They dance on my grave with mouths full of cupcakes and piggish laughter,” Maggie said. She was no longer raging. Instead, she was cool, calm, and calculating once more.

  “The people of this town make a mockery of us as a way of life, Selena,” Abigail said. “They need those tourists’ dollars. So they sell popcorn and set up Ferris wheels to commemorate murdering innocent women. You were the one outraged by that. You were the one who wanted to change things so badly you sought out more power. Well, I found more power. I can take it from the people who don’t deserve it.”

  “And what is the price?”

  “For them? Time. A day. A week. A year. They’ll never know they lost it. It means nothing.”

  “What cost for you, Abby? Maggie is giving you blood magic? Do you even know what blood magic does?”

  “It makes us strong,” Abigail said, her voice firm. “If you only knew, sister.”

  “I think I do. But I fear you do not. Blood magic always has a price, sister. A bargain must be made.”

  “Maggie and I made our bargain. We will see it through,” Abigail insisted. Selena laughed, but it was not a joyful sound.

  “You and Maggie made a bargain? No, Abby. The power makes the bargain. And I don’t think you know the price you’re paying.”

  “Don’t tell me what I know, Selena. Since you left, I’ve grown powerful. You can see it, I know you can. I’m stronger than you now. I’m stronger than any of us.”

  “And still that girl who wouldn’t listen to the rules until it was too late. Four Winds, sister, you set a demon free in town already. What else will you do before this stops?”