Storm Witch (Wolf Ridge Chaos Witch Book 1)
Page 7
Set, on the other hand...
I felt the god’s presence in the back of my mind. It felt like a huge storm building, complete with cracks of thunder. Sighing, I picked up the brown paper bag and carefully pulled out each piece before I set it on the kitchen countertop.
Walking into my tiny bedroom, I spotted a new bedside cabinet that would have to work as my altar. I didn’t want it out in the living area. There was too much risk of someone seeing it there. That was far too personal.
Gathering the items up into my arms, I knelt on the bed and tried to mentally prepare myself for setting up the altar. This was a huge turning point. The moment I would become a Set witch.
22
I took my time setting up the altar. The beautiful red cloth covered the bedside cabinet. The dagger with its elegant gold inlay sat at the front, acting as the primary focus. I was a protector and guardian. No matter what form of magic Set tried to give me, I would fight to retain that role.
Next to the dagger, I placed the die and the vial of sand. The garnet sat directly behind the dagger, and that was all I had for him at that point. Over the months and years together, I would gather more items to tie us together and aid in our alliance.
Closing my eyes, I settled myself into a kneeling position on the bed, closed my eyes, and opened myself to Set. My heart was beating against my ribs as I tried to settle my nerves. I clenched my hands into fists as I fought to remain firm and strong. God or not, I would not bow and grovel. Not to him or anyone else.
The Morrigan had been a quiet presence. A flutter of black feathers in the darkness. Set was a big powerful presence. He strode out of the darkness in my mind standing tall and strong. At a guess, he was somewhere around 6’5, and every inch of him was bronzed muscle. Some myths said that he was supposed to be pale skinned and red haired, but he presented himself to me as the experienced warrior with pitch hair and deep brown eyes.
A feral smile crossed his lips, and I felt like prey before him. This god was a predator, a rolling storm that thundered across the skies with nothing to stop or hinder him. He reached out and gently caressed my cheek, showing surprising warmth and tenderness.
“Unlike the battle crow, I care for each and every one of my witches,” he said in a soft silky tone.
In my mind’s eye, I stood taller and presented myself as his ally. Not his tool or toy, I would stand at his side and work with him, not for him.
The smile softened and he relaxed somewhat, pulling back the great swell of powerful and predatory presence as he did so. Taking my hands in his far larger ones, he rubbed his thumbs over the backs and whispered in an old language that brought lightning to my veins and thunder to my fingertips.
Every part of me felt far more alive. I felt strength and power like I’d never felt before.
“You have been granted the power of storms as you tasted before against Apophis. I will demand touches of chaos from you, and we shall see how things progress. Should we work as a good alliance, I will gift you with further magic.”
A thrill ran through me. His magic was enlivening. It brought a huge grin to my face as it spread through me making me feel complete for the first time in months. There was no subtlety here. It was pure raw force that I could call down and shape to my will.
Stepping back, he held out his hands and formed a pair of beautiful black swords with broad blades and slender garnet-red hilts.
“These are yours to use in battle.”
I took them from his hands and felt the weight of them in my physical hands. They crackled beneath my palms and made me laugh with glee. This was what I was supposed to be.
WHEN I OPENED MY EYES, electricity had arced around my fingers and danced down the blades of the swords. They were shorter than the Morrigan ones I had grown used to, but they were perfectly balanced. I needed to practise with them and learn the feel of my new magic, but excitement and pure unadulterated happiness had consumed me. I was complete again.
A storm rolled in overhead, great heavy black clouds full of rain. Closing my eyes, I breathed deep and felt its potential roiling within my stomach, desperate to be unleashed. Opening my eyes slowly, I reached out with my magic and plucked on the threads of the storm, carefully releasing a little of the rain. Large raindrops splattered against my window, making me laugh like a thing possessed.
This new magic was like riding a high unlike anything else. Where the Morrigan magic had been pragmatic and subdued, this was the complete opposite. I was quite literally electrified, and Set had said I could have so much more if we worked well together. Never before had I been so motivated to make an alliance work.
23
It was barely dawn when I rolled out of bed and stuffed a muffin in my mouth while hopping around the kitchen getting my boots on. Gideon looked pristine when I opened the door. His eyes were even shining. I was pretty sure I needed a shopping cart to carry the bags under my eyes.
A grin spread across his face.
“You’re officially a Set witch,” he said with delight.
A small crackle of electricity arced between my fingertips in response. I was still working on getting that under wraps. The magic was a violent storm that was proving difficult to keep in line. It rushed through my system, bringing about sheer ecstasy that could so easily become addictive. All I had to do was close my eyes and allow the magic to run through me, slowly increasing the high until I found pure bliss. At which point I’d be consumed and probably go up in a puff of smoke.
I pulled the magic back deep within me and smiled while wrestling with the errant threads that insisted on flickering around me. They provided small tastes of lightning and potential, little temptations. Gritting my teeth, I squashed it all down and followed Gideon down to his car. Weak witches allowed their magic to rule them. I was anything but weak.
RATHER THAN HEADING to Gideon’s very nice office, with the couch I could get a nap on, we were going to a popular hiking trail. Rosalyn had called this one in. She’d been out for her morning run with her pack and come across a dark magic witch that had exploded upon contact with Rosalyn’s dagger. Or at least that was how she told it.
“We need to gather as much evidence as we can before the humans start walking the trails. Word is already spreading through the supernatural community. Something changed. These solitary witches were disappearing and never appearing again. Then this week we’ve had an entire rash of dark possessed witches,” Gideon said as he pressed the gas, pushing me back into the seat.
I looked out of the window, watching the pink blush spread across the horizon driving out the darkness. He was right; we needed to understand what had changed. I hadn’t heard anything about any new dark witches in the area, and I was convinced this wasn’t witch doing. The healer had said a beautiful man, which suggested fae. We needed to look in that direction. Just because they couldn’t wield the dark magic themselves didn’t mean they hadn’t found an artifact or something that could.
My mind went through the possibilities. It wouldn’t be impossible for the guy to be a fae-witch hybrid. The fae screwed everything they could. Most witches were very precious about their bloodlines and took contraception to extremes, but solitary witches didn’t have such concerns. That made the most sense to me. It would give him access to both fae and witch magic. If he were from one of the death fae breeds such as a cu sith or a cait sidhe and then found a way to work with one of the ancient gods, he could be doing this. Cait sidhe were fae cat shifters that dealt with life force, and people thought they ferried the dead to the other side. Cu sith were the dog version. Non-fae weren’t entirely sure what they did or how. The fae kept that under wraps.
“I think we’re looking for a fae-witch hybrid.”
Gideon pursed his lips and turned the low-slung car down a narrow road with tall old trees towering above us.
“I see your logic, but we mustn’t close our minds to other possibilities. We don’t have very much to work on yet.”
He was right. I could
n’t allow myself to get stuck on one track and thus risk missing vital evidence. It still gave me a starting place. I pulled out my phone and opened up the Grim. The social network knew everything that was going on in the supernatural world. I typed up a post casually asking after a pretty fae-witch guy. As a solitary witch, my clout was drastically reduced, but I hoped some of the friendlier covens and shifters would help get the word out.
If it turned out I was wrong, then I was just asking around about a pretty guy. No harm, no foul. Still, it seemed perfect. The magic was unlike anything I’d come across before. If it was a bastardization of fae and witch magic, that would explain it.
Gideon put his hand on my knee.
“Keep your mind open,” he said softly.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Are you holding something back?”
“No. I can feel you latching onto this idea like a dog with a bone. We have little to no evidence. We haven’t been able to get a good trace on the magic.”
I exhaled slowly and put my phone away. He was right. I was looking for the easy solution, not necessarily the correct one. I was also letting my prejudices get in the way. That was something we were all prone to, but I was supposed to be above that.
Smiling, I put my hand on Gideon’s and felt a warm comfort in the contact between us. He was going to be good for me.
24
Wolves hid between the broad trunks of the trees watching as Gideon carefully pulled his car into a smooth spot on the dirt. My magic roiled within me, eager to be free. There was chaos to be caused here, storms to be born. Gritting my teeth, I pushed it all down and focused my mind on being a protector. Set had that aspect to him. I could feel it deep within the magic. I just needed to pull it out and hone it.
We got out of the car, stepping between the deep shadows as we did so. The pale sunlight hadn’t breached the thick canopy overhead. The leaves were turning, but they hadn’t dropped, not yet. Winter would leave the trees as barren pillars lining the hills and standing guard over the town. There were a couple more weeks left before the colour was gone and the monochrome of winter descended.
Rosalyn leaned against a tree with a small smile on her face.
“Your eyes are sparking,” she greeted me.
I closed them and tugged on the thread of lightning that had hidden there, giving me away. It slipped down into the chasm within me where the rest of the magic hid.
Opening them again, I saw her smile had softened. She looked pointedly between Gideon and me.
“Rosalyn meet Gideon; Gideon, Rosalyn.”
Gideon nodded and strode up to her.
“I’d love to meet you properly, but we’re on a tight schedule.”
“Just up there,” Rosalyn pointed. “I have to get Adam and Briar home ready for work.”
The slightly smaller wolf’s ears flattened, and they huffed. I restrained a laugh.
“Work is becoming a chore. Briar isn’t loving the early mornings as much anymore,” Rosalyn said with a laugh.
The younger wolf had been learning to be a mechanic, the last I heard. She was so eager and passionate about the inner workings of everything from cars to generators.
Rosalyn turned and took off at a steady jog with the wolves at her heels. I walked at Gideon’s side between the trees to the mess.
“We have ten minutes until my people are here.”
I circled around the mass of black tendrils and bones trying to pick out what had originally been where. The skull was easy enough to identify, although there were non-human teeth there. I didn’t want to get too close, but they looked almost piranha like. The tendrils shivered and flattened when the sunlight hit them, suggesting there was some shadow magic in there somewhere.
“I have a shadow walker in my coven. I’ll bring him over.”
I froze and looked at him steadily. Shadow walkers were incredibly rare, and for good reason. The council had tried to make them illegal due to the call of the darkness. It was feared that they would turn on those around them. The call of the void, the whispers of malice were supposed to be constant for the shadow witches.
Gideon pursed his lips and glared at me.
“Don’t judge someone based off their magic.”
I refocused on the mess before me. He was right of course, but the flicker of fear wouldn’t quite budge. I’d dealt with a lot of things as a Morrigan witch, but a shadow walker wasn’t among them. We’d been taught from a young age never to trust the abominations.
Crouching down, I reminded myself that those days were behind me. Gideon had welcomed this witch into his coven. I would do my damnedest to do the same.
The faint touch of magic was still present, but it wasn’t strong enough for me to recognise. I just felt the soft touches of it at my edges. The slippery black stuff had formed into semi-solid goop that clung to the tree bark and sat upon the bare earth. It had been scattered over a six-foot radius, perhaps further. A clear empty patch sat in the middle, showing it had exploded outwards almost evenly. I dreaded to think what Rosalyn must have thought when that happened.
I couldn’t pick out any identifying information. Someone could have told me it was some bizarre science experiment gone wrong, and I’d have believed them.
“We have to assume it’s another one of our solitary witches. I have a death witch on team who will be able to identify the magic and see if it matches up with the other deceased,” Gideon said in a thick accent.
I stood and faced him. He stared me down, his broad shoulders tense and ready for a fight.
“I shouldn’t have pre-judged your shadow witch. I’m sorry. There aren’t any good excuses.”
He smiled and relaxed.
“Greyson is a good guy.”
“And you’re very protective over your coven,” I added for him.
“That I am.”
His accent softened as his protectiveness faded.
“My coven is made up of witches no one else wanted. We came together to make a difference in this world. We chose security so we could make people a little safer. They’re family. We don’t have any of that hierarchical nonsense. Everyone has a voice and a place. The coven house is a home.”
I had to admit that really appealed. Having a real sanctuary where I could relax and be myself without fear was a dream I’d never dared consider.
“We look after each other, and we’ll look after you, too. If you’ll let us.”
It wasn’t in my nature to allow someone to care for me, but there was a gentleness to him. A deep affection and kindness that pulled me in. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let go and let someone watch over me for a little while every now and again.
25
Greyson slipped between the shadows and stepped out next to Gideon. I was aware of someone moving near us, but my eye refused to settle on him until he was ready. The shadow witch was a shade shorter than Gideon, with black hair darker than the night sky and sapphire-blue eyes. A small smile twitched at his lips as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his pale blue jeans. He was a lean man around my age with an intensity that you couldn’t escape. The jeans and t-shirt should have been bland, but they somehow highlighted the strength he wore like armour.
He watched me, almost unblinking, as I tried to be polite. Finally, after what felt like an eternity but can’t have been more than a couple of seconds, he said, “You must be Sky. I’ve heard so much about you.”
I grinned, feeling myself relax.
“Now you have to tell me what he’s been saying about me.”
Greyson laughed, a soft melodic sound with a touch of sadness at the very periphery of it.
“Another time, we’re down to two minutes.”
Greyson nodded and casually walked over to the tendrils and darkness. He pursed his lips, and I noticed the small flutter of his elegant fingers as he looked over the remains.
“No. This isn’t anything tied into shadow.”
Gideon sighed and muttered under his breath. That c
ut off one avenue but nudged us a little closer to my fae-witch idea.
The shadow witch looked at me with a small smile and a little cock of his head.
“Set will have fun with you.”
I lifted my chin, feeling pride and anger rise up. God or not, I wasn’t going to be anyone’s plaything.
Greyson lifted his hand and held it in the international sign for stop.
“It wasn’t an insult. From what I understand, Set is a powerful god, and it isn’t often he gets to work with witches strong enough to really use his magic. You feel like one of those witches.”
The anger fled leaving only pride.
“I have places to be. Catch you back at home later Gideon.”
With that, Greyson turned and slipped away between the trees. I’d expected him to walk through the shadows, but I heard a car engine.
“You must be just as special as I thought if you can make Greyson talk to you.”
I raised an eyebrow at Gideon.
“Oh, I’m so much more special than you thought.”
We both laughed.
“Greyson has a... tragic backstory. He doesn’t talk to many.”
More engines started coming down the narrow road. Gideon’s people must have been there. I wasn’t used to working with lots of people. Morrigan witches mostly worked alone. My feet itched to leave the place and find the next lead. I remained where I was, looking over the scene for any final clues. Something that would point us in a definitive direction.
Of course, nothing was ever that easy.
GIDEON HAD TAKEN ME back to his office, where he made the most incredible coffee and someone delivered a huge box of doughnuts. I was going to need to hit the gym that evening if I wanted to stay fit. The doughnuts were so good. They had the perfect balance of sweet with a little chewiness, and I had no idea icing could melt in your mouth like that.
We looked over the new paperwork from the exploded witch earlier. Gideon’s person had shown that the magic wasn’t quite the same as the previous cases. There was, however, a sliver of fae magic in there. I pointed at it.