Storm Witch (Wolf Ridge Chaos Witch Book 1)

by Jayne Hawke

  Chaos Witch

  Chaos Witch, Volume 1

  Jayne Hawke

  Published by Kitsune Ink, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  CHAOS WITCH

  First edition. June 12, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Jayne Hawke.

  Written by Jayne Hawke.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

  54

  55

  56

  57

  58

  A quick note.

  1

  Fall was settling in around me as I stepped out into the cool damp air. Thick clouds hung low in the sky and threatened a downpour that would produce big deep puddles and pound the rooftops with large raindrops. A smile came to my face as I did my leather jacket up and began the walk home.

  It had been three months since I’d been kicked out of my coven and lost my magic. There was a deep emptiness within me as I glanced skyward and tried not to think about it. Unfortunately, I had to think about it. Every day I put off my decision was a day closer to permanent damage and ultimately death.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I allowed my feet to carry me along the familiar route through the edge of town out into the rougher part of Wolf Ridge. The little apartment I now called home was nothing compared to the luxury of the coven house I’d grown up in. I spent as much time out doing other things as I could.

  ‘It could be over in a matter of minutes,’ an intensely masculine voice whispered in the back of my mind.

  He was right. I knew that, but I wasn’t ready.

  I was a witch without magic, and it was my own doing. The Morrigan had been my goddess from birth. It was an inevitability, as I was born into a powerful Morrigan coven. She was all I had ever known. Then everything started falling into a tailspin. Set, the Egyptian god of chaos, storms, and more had pushed to claim me as his own. It should have been an honour, to have two gods fighting over me.

  I’d never been one to bow to pressure, and so the Morrigan had removed her magic from within me. I wouldn’t be complete until I chose. The familiar battle crow and the position as an enforcer, or the new path as a solitary Set witch.

  Heavy footsteps behind me pulled me out of my circular thoughts. It was late at night. The tourists there to look at the beautiful leaves were all safely tucked up in bed. I reflexively went to pull my beautiful black swords from the ether. Nothing happened. Gritting my teeth, I unsheathed the blades on my hips and walked a little taller while I waited to see if whoever was behind me planned on doing something stupid.

  Wolf Ridge was a quiet little town hidden in the forests of Vermont. Not much happened there; not on the human level, at least. There were plenty of magical beings in the area who were prone to stirring up trouble. A few months before, I’d been involved in a hunt to take down an Apophis witch hellbent on plunging the world into dark chaos. Thankfully, I’d befriended a loup garou (that’s a wolf shifter) and her pack. Together, we kicked ass and saved the world. The humans never had any idea they were in any danger.

  I listened closely to the footsteps as they crept closer. We were past the shops and bars now and firmly into the quiet, less well-maintained residential area. My apartment was another ten minutes away, firmly in the run-down bit no one wanted tourists to know existed. Without my magic, I couldn’t pick up the well-paying mercenary jobs. I was left with the irritating little jobs none of the other mercs would touch. It meant money was very tight.

  The footsteps stopped dead, and I almost turned to look at why. A shiver ran through me as something screamed at me to run, a deep instinctual urge from back when we were living in caves. I gripped my knives tighter as I pushed aside the fear that came with not having my battle magic anymore.

  A petite blonde woman stepped out of the shadows in front of me. At first, I thought she’d been attacked. Blood splattered her paisley peasant shirt and dripped down her bare arms. Her head hung low and her hair was a tangled mess. She moved with a slow, almost stumbling pace. I went to approach her, then I realised what was really going on here.

  The woman was trying to lure me in close. Her little act was designed to put me at ease and bring me within striking distance. Some of the simpler, more animalistic fae used similar techniques. She didn’t feel like a fae, though. There was still a sliver of magic within me, my own innate magic that nothing could take from me. It was enough to allow me to feel the magic around me.

  She raised her eyes, and I saw dark swirling voids. Her lips pulled back into a rictus grin that looked more at home on a broken corpse than the woman who was standing before me, arms open as though inviting me for a hug. The magic within her was darker and more dangerous than anything I’d ever felt before. It was incredibly illegal, and deadly.

  “Don’t you want to play?” she asked in a sing-song voice.

  “That depends, what are we playing?”

  I started to circle around her. Whoever had been behind me had disappeared. It was just me and her. My knives didn’t feel quite right in my hands, lacked the surge of power that came with my Morrigan-gifted swords. I reminded myself that I’d trained in various forms of combat for my entire life. I was a warrior witch, and I wasn’t going to let some cursed little blonde woman take me down.

  2

  Ink-black tendrils slowly stretched and writhed from the woman’s back as she remained still. Too still. The light in the area slowly dimmed, leaving me to depend on my sense of hearing. How I wished I had shifter senses in that moment. I strained to pick out the small details that would give me something to work with. The shadows sat like deep pools around the base of the building and turned the doorways into gaping abysses. There wasn’t a single sound outside of my own breathing. There should have been a car, or another wanderer returning home from the bars. Even a raccoon wouldn’t have been that unexpected. Yet there was nothing.

  The black magic twisted and twitched behind the woman as she hunched her shoulders and a deep guttural growl came from deep within her throat. The sound filled the space around us as though devouring and consuming everything within its wake. Silence reigned once more when it ended. This was it. She was about to attack, and I had no idea what her weaknesses were.

  If I could take out her legs, then I’d slow her down and give myself some room for manoeuvre. It was all I had, as I didn’t want that dark magic anywhere near me. The gods only knew what it might do to me. I didn’t have a god to protect me from outside influences, although the Morrigan would likely have left me to fend for myself. She was a firm
believer in her witches being able to stand on their own two feet as warriors.

  The woman advanced slowly with stilted steps giving her legs the appearance of having been made of twisted wood. I had no idea what the hell was going on with her. Never before had I seen such magic. It made me all the more certain that I didn’t want any contact with it for fear that I might become infected. Witches were vessels for magic, and there were rumours that a godless witch was susceptible to wild and dangerous magic taking hold within them. I put that thought safely away in the back of my mind to consider later.

  Steeling myself, I rushed forward and aimed low with plans of sweeping her legs out from under her. It was a risky move, and certainly not an elegant one, but it was all I had. A cold slick tendril wrapped around my arm before I could get within arm’s reach. The thick heavy magic felt far too much like an octopus’ leg for my liking. A flicker of fear formed deep within me as it began to tug me towards the woman, who was looking less and less like a woman the closer I got. Swallowing down my fear, I tugged on my internal defences and tried to keep the dark magic out of my system. It didn’t seem to be making any attempts to get in, but that was not a risk I would ever take.

  I hacked at the tendril and tried to get a feel for the magic. If I could understand the magic, then maybe I could find a way to kick its ass and return it to whatever hell it had originated from. My arm felt slightly numb and too heavy when the tendril recoiled, and the woman-thing hissed. Shaking my arm, I tried to return the blood to it and hoped I hadn’t somehow gotten venom in my system. The woman’s head snapped up with an audible cracking sound, and I winced, feeling the crack in my own spine. Frustration was consuming any fear I might have had. I should have known what she was and how to defeat her. That was part of being a Morrigan witch. We studied for years to understand how the other forms of magic worked so we could take them down.

  Circling around the woman, I looked for something I could use against her. The tendrils of black magic erupted from her back like something from a horror show. She watched my every move, her head hanging at an odd angle and her neck twisting in unnatural ways as she did so. The silence around us was entirely unnatural. My footsteps echoed around me, taunting me. Running my tongue over my teeth, I tried to figure out what I was missing. She hadn’t attacked me yet, and yet malevolence rolled off her in thick heavy waves.

  If she had gotten venom into my system, I wasn’t feeling any trace of it, magical or otherwise. My mental alarm bells hadn’t been triggered. That brought some relief, but only added to the confusion and frustration. The woman had clearly once been a woman, human in every perceptible way. The magic had twisted and deformed her into something else. A quick thought about whether she was related to Cthulhu and the Old Ones flashes in my mind. I groaned despite myself. I was not ready to try and take them on. Set chuckled in the back of my mind, and I was reminded of his presence. The fact he was watching me fuelled my need to prove myself and kick this thing’s ass.

  The light around us dulled to almost nothing. The distinct sound of teeth snapping together echoed around me right before I heard her steps racing towards me. Digging deep, I grasped onto my protective instincts and prepared for war.

  The tendrils hit me first. Heavy cold tentacles that wrapped around my arms and legs, holding me in place while the thing herself approached with her crooked stilting gait. My breathing was calm and slow as I focused on my hearing. I hacked at the tendrils once more, but they recoiled much more slowly this time. The scent of something oceanic filled my nostrils right before one of those tentacles went for my throat.

  All games were over. I was prey, and she was hungry. I ducked away and shot forwards, aiming to plunge a knife into the thing’s stomach. Two tentacles worked together to hit me hard in the ribs, sending me flying into the nearby brick wall. I groaned as what little vision I had blurred and sparked with bright white dots. The clicking of her teeth snapped me out of whatever fog I was in, and I pushed myself back to my feet.

  “I can help,” Set’s deep silky voice said somewhere in my mind.

  It wouldn’t be the first time he had loaned me his magic. His magic had been intoxicating and full of promises. The Morrigan’s magic was roughshod and practical - Set’s was so much more.

  A tentacle hit me straight across the face, slamming my head back into the brick wall. My ears rang. The familiar taste of blood bloomed on my tongue, and warm sticky blood trickled from my nose. I couldn’t afford a healer right now. She’d better not have given me brain damage. Another cold heavy tentacle wrapped around my ankle and tugged. My reflexes were slowing.

  The electric tang of Set’s magic coated my tongue, teasing me. All I had to do was say please.

  I leaned down, trying to ignore the spinning, and slashed at the tentacle around my ankle. The woman-thing edged forward, her teeth snapping on the air between hisses. I got the distinct impression she planned on eating me, and I was nobody’s meal.

  My knife dug into the thick leathery hide of the tentacle. It had felt cool and slippery before. The magic was evolving. I swore loudly.

  “Please,” I hissed.

  A soft chuckle filled my mind right before Set’s magic flooded my system.

  The god of storms and chaos was only giving me a little taste, but it was all I needed. Closing my eyes, I called down the lightning. A storm bubbled up around us, and my eyes opened to a flash of brilliant white lightning. The image of the woman-thing was burned forever onto my retinas, a mass of black tentacles writhing around her like tattered wings. Her pale white skin looked a little too much like bone as she stared at me with empty black eyes.

  Magic crackled through my veins. I didn’t have very much practise in harnessing it, but Set was guiding it. He wasn’t going to let me get a real feel for his magic until I said yes and gave myself over to him. All I had to do was focus on my enemy. Staring into the dark void, I pressed my mind against where her heart should have been and watched as forks of lighting cascaded from the dark canvas above and collided with her sunken chest.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as her body collapsed to the ground.

  The light returned, and I was left with a smoking charred form and a lot of questions.

  3

  I looked over the charred remains and tried to decide what to do with them.

  “Any chance of a good wind or something?” I asked Set.

  His magic slipped away from me, removing the electricity from my veins and leaving me empty and exhausted. I gasped as the pain and bone-deep tiredness took over, wiping away whatever adrenaline I had. Swallowing hard, I slowed my breathing and pushed past the pain to try and think while my head pounded. Set clearly wasn’t going to lend a hand, so I’d have to try and sweet talk someone at the merc bar to help me out. I was a magicless witch; they weren’t all that interested in helping my kind. Had I have been a Morrigan witch, they’d have jumped at the chance to have me owe them a favour.

  I slumped down against the wall and pulled out my phone. Scrolling through my contacts, I settled on Ben. He’d been the one to let me onto the merc roster to begin with. No one wanted to hire me from the Grimoire, the supernatural social media site. Pressing the call button, I cleared my throat and tried to sound adorable.

  It rang six times before he picked up, which wasn’t a great sign.

  “Hey Ben, it’s Sky.”

  He grunted. This was not going as planned.

  “I ran into a bit of trouble, any chance I can get someone out here to clear up some charred remains for me?”

  I added as much cute pep into my tone as I could muster.

  He sighed. I waited.

  “Where?” he finally said.

  “A block from my place, near that turn off to the forest trails.”

  He sighed again.

  It wasn’t in my nature to beg. If he didn’t want to help me out, then I’d figure it out on my own, but gods all I wanted was a hot shower and some food.

  “Fine. I’m taking an e
xtra ten percent from your next job, though.”

  I winced. I needed every cent I could get since I’d been kicked out of the coven.

  “Deal. Thanks Ben!”

  I hung up before I screwed it up and said what I really thought. One last glance at the ruined body of the witch, and I pushed myself up into standing position. My entire body protested as I walked home with dreams of a long hot shower on my mind. I was hoping I still had some hot pockets in the apartment. Anything hot and calorie laden would do, I was beyond being picky.

  THE APARTMENT WAS FAR from the home I’d had with the coven. I squeezed into the shower and closed my eyes tight when the hot water turned into an icy trickle after a minute. The water heater needed to be fixed, but I didn’t have the money for that. The Morrigan coven had taken away all of my savings when I was kicked out. They claimed it was all coven money, as I’d earnt it by doing the Morrigan’s work. I didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  Stepping out, I wrapped a thin towel around me and tried to rub away the goosebumps while I shuffled out of the tiny bathroom across the hall into my bedroom. My single bed took up most of the room. I’d managed to squeeze a rail to hang my clothes on between the bed and the wall next to the door, but it was a tight squeeze. Pulling on my favourite pajama bottoms and a soft old t-shirt, I walked the five feet down the hall into the kitchen cum living space.

  Opening the tiny fridge, I checked if there were any leftovers in there. The light flickered before it went out, leaving me to look into the empty darkness. The cupboards weren’t much better. I found a couple of store-brand chocolate-chip cookies hidden in their packet at the back of the cupboard. It looked like I was going hungry that night.

  I curled up on my armchair, the only soft furnishing in the apartment besides my bed, and opened up my laptop. The internet was the only luxury I had, but really it was essential if I wanted to keep up with jobs and the supernatural world. My laptop flickered and made a buzzing whirring sound. Groaning, I closed my eyes and looked for some form of inner peace. There was no point in trying to pray to the gods. They weren’t listening.