by Jayne Hawke
With a quick step forward, I made a sideways slash at the approaching line, but found them all quick enough to hop backwards and avoid it. They looked like zombies, but apparently they didn’t share their penchant for wet stumbling. Another, longer step forward put me close enough that they would struggle to avoid me, and I took the opportunity to make a fencer’s thrust into the chest of a scarred girl with what might have been a cutlass in a weak, inexpert underhand grip. She fell backwards like a mummy in a cartoon, stiff as if in anticipation of melting away into sludge.
I leapt back before a pike wielder to her right could land an overhand strike, the stony black of it meeting the pavement where I’d been with a dull crack. From my left, a thrown blade whizzed past my ear. I thought it had gone wide until I felt a shooting pain in my trapezius, hot blood soaking the jacket that, in my opinion, had entirely failed in its role as urban armor. A little bolt of lightning paid back the injury as Set’s basso chuckle resounded just at the edge of my inner monologue, but it was nonetheless clear that I needed to use my head more and my theatrical flair less.
With a flourish of both blades, I sent the broadening semicircle of enemies onto the back foot and then turned quickly to enter a blind alley with my enemies close behind. With the walls on either side of me, the enemy couldn’t approach more than three abreast. Thinking of the military precision of my husband-to-be, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be impressed at the tactical maneuver that sat at odds with the reputation of Morrigan witches as showy savages. I had no time to debate the matter, alas, because the second I turned it was to find a chunky, oversized blade coming at me from above, a giant of a man whom I couldn’t believe I’d missed blithely putting every ounce of his strength into a blow that stood to make two pieces of Wolf Ridge’s newest Set witch.
I deflected the blow to the right, wincing as I was forced to draw on my magic to provide the strength merely to survive, but I was gratified to see the blade penetrate deep into the brickwork. I took the opportunity to make a quick recovery and sever his arm at the elbow with the untouched Set blade that had so recently deprived him of his killing blow. The other blade had been all but forgotten as my focus narrowed, but a lifetime in the Morrigan’s service meant that it fell into an energy-efficient low guard that I promptly snapped up when an honest-to-the-gods flail swung towards my periphery. Who used a flail? A shooting pain reminded me that my left side had seen better days.
With both combatants off balance and effectively disarmed, it was quick work to make an effective (if ungainly) dual thrust to send them both toppling back with clean, pretty wounds right through the heart. In the closed space of the alley, the smell of their ichorous blood overcame the normal alleyway scents of sanitation oversights and made me grateful for a lifetime spent in the presence of corpses. I focused on my breathing, long efficient breaths replenishing me as I enjoyed a break in action while the remaining six assailants assessed the sudden change in landscape that two big corpses hitting the ground simultaneously represented.
Unfortunately, the heap of bodies I’d hoped to use as a disruption to my would-be murderers’ order of advance was not meant to be; the two that had formed my early foundation were already melting away like Jello salad in the hot sun, and a conclusion appeared to be coming towards me as three men with polearms, the most experienced of whom appeared to be the poleax wielder I had so delicately avoided what felt like hours before, had leveled their weapons and were approaching in close formation while their more esoterically armed comrades looked on in dumb indifference. My tactic had been sound, but they had turned it against me nonetheless, and I was forced to back up with little plan for what to do when the wall behind me stopped my retreat.
We moved in unison, they forward and I back, no one seeing a need to rush things with the conclusion foregone. Set came into my mind, images rather than sounds, a storm the breadth of Egypt striking both sides of a mighty conflict. I’d been avoiding my lightning, but he was right. I wasn’t going to stab my way out of this. Reaching deep within, I tugged on the edges of the storm and called down a fierce rush of wind. Spreading my storm, I struck out with a trio of bolts that hit each enemy from above, striking them dead and rendering their poisoned forms into unrecognizable husks. The tremendous stroke of thunder that came with it was enough to shake even the possessed who remained, and I threw myself into a blind rush, leaping over the remains of the spearmen and relying on my memory of the enemy’s placement as the storm I could no longer maintain dissipated and left me dazzled in the dark.
I landed, slipped in the slimy remains still adding their distinct odor to the affair, and found myself hurtling foot first at my foe, my magic all but expended and my muscles not far behind. I threw my blades up at what I hoped was the right moment to catch two of the three remaining possessed and was relieved to hear the squelch of punctured guts and feel the brief resistance of soft flesh failing to withstand bronze.
That left me with one, one I knew would be standing over me with a clear shot at my supine form. I threw myself to the side with strength born of pure adrenaline and made a desperate horizontal swing. My heart broke as I heard the song of sword hitting sword and felt my blade deflect out of my hand, my desperate swing deflected by an opponent who had not been drained dry by a fight against wild odds. Set’s disappointment filled me when I felt the sword leave my hand.
Bringing my remaining blade up, I did a slow but effective somersault backwards, landing on my haunches with my free hand bracing on the ground and the sword prepared for a blow that wasn’t coming. I’m sure I looked more like a medieval grotesque than a warrior witch, but it was better than the face-down nap my body was screaming for.
I heard a familiar voice say, “Hey, now, no need to cut me open. I’m here to help.”
My vision cleared to find Greyson standing at the mouth of the alley, sword held in a casual hand soaked in black blood of the dead woman at his feet. Maybe there were upsides to having a coven, I thought, moments before I passed out.
49
Ella forced me to eat the most divine cookies anyone had ever given me. It was a hardship I tolerated because she meant well, and they were healing cookies.
Ryan had taken samples from the puddles of goo that had once been my attackers while Greyson and Ella ushered me into Ryan’s Camaro. By the time we were back at the coven house, I felt completely fine and didn’t know what all the fuss was about. Sure, it was a bit inconvenient, and the possessed people were clearly targeting me, but I’d kicked their asses.
“I’m out of cookies,” I said to Ella.
I gave her the biggest puppy eyes I could muster, which made her laugh.
“She’s just fine. She just used too much energy, is all.”
“Those masked people were darker magic than the previous ones,” Ryan rumbled.
Meaning that the situation was getting worse.
“We’re getting closer. They’re getting scared and trying to take us out,” I said.
Were they going after Gideon too?
“Gideon’s fine,” Greyson said.
“How did you know I was in trouble?” I asked.
“The shadows told me,” Greyson said with a shrug.
We all piled out of the car, and I thought about how I felt about that. The shadows were watching me, and that was distinctly creepy. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it had been useful that night, though.
Ella nudged me with her elbow.
“You’re one of us, we watch out for our own,” she said with a grin.
I couldn’t help but return the grin. It felt so good to be accepted. The Morrigan coven had never given me that. I was another tool in a pretty toolbox. We were all in it together, but there was none of this camaraderie or caring about each other.
They ushered me into the kitchen where Ryan pulled a large steak out of the fridge and my mouth watered. My stomach growled, and I covered it, trying to hide the sound.
“Learning your new limits is hard,”
Ryan said gruffly.
“So I’m seeing,” I said.
“That’s his way of saying he was worried about you,” Ella said.
“This is just showing that Isaac is the one behind the possessions. He got scared by us looking around his business, and now he’s trying to take us out,” I said.
“I’m not convinced,” Greyson said.
“What about Quinn?” Ella asked.
I wrinkled my nose. They were right. Quinn just didn’t look right. I was sure that his fae connections were too strong. The fae would love to get their hands on an artifact like that, and the theft didn’t add up. Isaac was the more obvious choice, though, with the hidden research facilities.
“Maybe they’re working together,” I said.
“What’s in it for them?” Greyson asked.
“Power? Money?” I said.
Everyone nodded.
“Pretty classic bad guy motivations,” Ella said solemnly.
Everyone laughed.
Ryan brought the steak over to me. It was rare with a light seasoning. I am not ashamed to say that I wolfed it down like I hadn’t eaten in a week. The meat melted on my tongue and the seasoning was beautifully balanced. I didn’t notice much else, as I ate it far too quickly to really savour it.
“So, what do we do now?” I asked.
“We need evidence so we can investigate,” Greyson said.
Sighing, I knew he was right. That meant we needed to find something Isaac had been too sloppy to cover up somewhere. Opening up my phone, I looked at the Grim to see if it gave me any inspiration. Megan’s party was the central topic of every conversation.
“Solitary witches get in free!” was plastered over the main invitation graphic.
I looked at it for a long moment. That was a very generous offer. It seemed odd, given the dim view the witch community had of solitary witches. I broke one of the cardinal rules of the internet and read some of the comments.
‘You know solitary witches are the most fun at sex parties.’
‘They’re only getting in free so she doesn’t have to pay for entertainment.’
‘I heard you can screw as many solitaries as you like - they don’t count. I’m game.’
The comments continued on in that fashion.
I made a mental note to give the party a very wide berth. It wasn’t at all my scene, and some of the comments were getting very graphic about the type of fun people planned on having there.
My contact list on the Grim didn’t give me any ideas about where to turn. I hated leaning on Gideon and his business, but he did have the most tools at his disposal. Placing my phone down on the table, I groaned.
50
“I should have dropped you at home, or taken you to my office,” Gideon said.
He pulled me into his arms before he pulled back to look me over.
I gave him a stern expression.
“Gideon, I’m a warrior witch as much as you...” I warned.
He held up his hands.
“I’m allowed to worry about my fiancée when she’s attacked on the walk home.”
“We haven’t gotten the full analysis back on their remains yet, but we’re pretty sure they’re the same possessed things that came after you before,” Ryan said.
Gideon sighed and sat down at the table next to me. Ella handed him a large mug of hot chocolate.
“We must be on the right track,” I said.
Gideon nodded.
“Aye. We can’t just go looking around Isaac’s property, though. We have to stay within the law.”
I huffed. He was right, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
“I might have something,” Greyson said.
All attention turned to him.
“I was looking back through the pictures Sky took of Isaac’s stuff. There’s an interesting symbol right next to the flower he stole from Megan. It looks like it has ties into a weird cult.”
“What kind of weird cult?” Ryan asked.
“A human one. They’re old by human standards, very secretive. It looks like they’re all about purity.”
I made a disgusted sound. The purity thing was ridiculous. It ran rampant through witch circles, and I’d always hated it.
“You think Isaac has ties to them? Do we have something we can look into?” Gideon pushed.
“We need to find more about this cult,” Ella said.
Excitement filled the room. This was it. This was the clue we needed.
“Is anyone confused by the fact a human cult linked to purity is tied into the creatures from the between?” Ryan asked.
“Human cults get into all sorts of weird things,” Ella said with a shrug.
She wasn’t wrong. When humans started poking into magic and the occult, they went in really odd directions with it.
I began searching through the internet looking for the cult Greyson had found. Conspiracy forums were the first thing to pop up. It was tenuous, but I’d take it. The thrill of the hunt filled me. It wasn’t the direction I’d expected this to take, but I was sure that Quinn would be involved in this somewhere. Isaac was the obvious choice, but Quinn was far too close to the fae. And this had the fae written all over it.
WE WERE UP LONG PAST midnight chasing down every small lead about this cult. There were all sorts of rumours about them, ranging from their being the first human necromancers through to ties with the Knights Templar.
“Why do humans think everything is tied to the Knights Templar and the Freemasons?” Greyson asked before yawning.
“Really good PR?” Ella suggested.
“They’re old, creepy, and mysterious,” I said.
“We should be grateful; they help us cover up lots of messes,” Gideon said.
“They really are creepy, though...” Ella said.
“There are worst things,” Gideon said.
I stretched and looked at my empty coffee mug. The sun was going to rise soon, which meant we were better off bringing out the caffeine IVs and staying up through the day.
“Do you by any chance have-” I started.
“No, we don’t have a caffeine drip,” Ella said flatly.
“Healers get grumpy when you ask them about dangerous things like that,” Greyson said.
“I don’t want to have to save your sorry asses from severe caffeine overdoses. I have better things to be doing with my time,” Ella said.
“Like hitting on the cute bookstore clerk? What’s her name?” Ryan teased.
Ella narrowed her eyes at him and said nothing.
“I have something,” I said a little too excitedly.
I’d been falling down a rabbit hole of links from a new age forum with far too much purple and sparkle in the design. Standing up, I began pacing around the kitchen.
“So, I started by looking at a thread about shadow men, you know those weird shadowy forms that are usually wearing a hat and have red eyes?” I said.
“Why do they have a hat? They’re shadows...” Ella said.
“Focus,” Gideon scolded.
“Someone mentioned something about this Cult of the Divine Light being tied into shadow men. I followed a few links, found a really weird website about screwing the gods on the astral plane, a couple more vampires, and then! Then I hit this. It turns out that this cult has been spotted in the old abandoned warehouse twenty minutes from my place. You know the one with the collapsing roof that’s weirdly quiet and the humans won’t go anywhere near?”
“The one that people claim has fairies that will steal your children away?” Greyson asked.
“Yes!”
Gideon looked skeptical.
“Come on, it’s not far from here, and there are photos,” I said.
I showed Gideon my phone with the photos of the interior of the warehouse with the cult symbol painted on the wall in pure white.
“As much as I really want to, I can’t argue with that. We’ll get breakfast then head over there,” Gideon said.
I grinne
d. It was a weirdly refreshing change to be going after a human cult.
51
Ryan refused to make waffles.
“Pancakes or pancakes and bacon, they’re your options this morning,” he declared.
Gideon crossed his arms and somehow looked down on the taller witch.
“Don’t make me do it, boss. She’ll drown them,” Ryan said.
Gideon simply continued to look at him before Ryan deflated and began making pancake batter.
“You’ll be having honey on your waffles this morning,” Gideon said to me.
“Gideon Shepherd, you will suffer such pain as you’ve never experienced if you try and interfere with my breakfast,” I said.
He laughed at me, a full-bodied laugh that left him grinning.
“You’re an incredible woman, Sky, the gods did well by me when they chose you,” he said.
I preened. A warm happiness spread through me whenever he lit up with joy like that.
Ella set out the chocolate sauce and fresh strawberries on the table. I noticed Greyson added extra bacon to the pan. Everything felt natural and normal, as though we’d done it a hundred times before.
Gideon sat down next to me and nudged the pot of honey a little closer to me. The look on his face was pure mischief.
“What I really want to know is, how the hell did humans get mixed up with the creatures of the between?” Ella said.
“Isaac must have been the one to bring them in, and the humans are just bringing in the witches,” I said.
“How would they identify the witches, though? We look like normal humans. We don’t wear pointy hats or neon signs,” Ella pushed.