The Promises of Demons (The Witch of Whitebridge Book 1)

by Keith Keffer

  "Nothing has changed," said Morgan as she stepped through the portal. "We are getting Bob back."

  They both emerged safely in the other room, and the portal closed behind them. It was dark. The only light came from the door which had been left open a crack. Morgan scooped up her backpack and looked inside. Yep, the spellbook was still there. She reached into the tool bag and found her notebook next. That also went into her backpack which she then threw over her shoulders. She grabbed the tool bag with her left hand. Morgan didn't really need it, but she didn't like the idea of leaving it with the cultists. That's what Alisha had called them, and it seemed better than thinking of them as "the robed guys."

  Alisha moved over to the door and peeked through the opening. "It looks like a warehouse." she whispered. "There are lights on, but I don't see anyone."

  Morgan moved to Alisha's side and reclaimed the black scroll and tape from her and stuck it in the tool bag. The scroll was too long to fit completely inside, but with the zipper pulled tight, it wasn't likely to fall out. She slowly pushed the door open. A bank of lights burned high overhead. They didn't light up every corner of the room, but they did provide enough light to see the center of the space.

  Like the room they entered through, the warehouse was empty except for a black SUV parked next to a large, roll-up door. Just to the side of the SUV more lights shined through a dusty office window. As the two women watched, the shadow of a man passed in front of the window.

  "Did you see that?" asked Alisha.

  "Yeah," said Morgan. "That must be where they have Bob."

  Alisha drew her pistol and gripped it with both hands. She whispered, "Stay behind me" and entered the warehouse. She kept to the walls where the shadows were the darkest.

  Morgan didn't know much about guns except for what she had seen in movies, but Alisha looked confident with the weapon. Their sneakers made almost no noise against the warehouse's cement floor, and they were able to make it to the side of the SUV without alerting anyone in the office. Alisha pointed to the dent in the front corner panel of the car. It was the same one that they had seen in the video.

  There were muffled voices coming from the office. Morgan didn't recognize any of them. She had hoped she would hear Bob swearing up a storm, but there was nothing that sounded like him. The connection between them was still strong, so at least she knew Bob was alright. Whatever they had planned for him, they hadn't finished it yet.

  "It's definitely them," said Morgan, keeping her voice hushed.

  "So," asked Alisha. "What's the plan?"

  That was the problem. Morgan didn't have a plan. Well, she did. Get in, get Bob and get back out. It was the same plan that she had followed when she rescued Henry. Now she needed to figure out a way to deal with the five guys in the other room, assuming that there were actually five guys there. She didn't even know that.

  "Let's sneak a look through the window. I want to make sure Bob is really in there and see who is with him."

  "Can't you just use that scrying spell you used at your house?" asked Alisha.

  Morgan shook her head. "I'm afraid they might notice it. Bob seemed to, and now that I think about, Henry seemed to notice something when I used it to see him. I don't want to risk it."

  "Alright then," said Alisha. She slipped around the front of the car and crawled over to the window. Morgan followed right behind her. She put the tool bag down without a sound, and they both raised their heads slowly to peer through the glass. The window was filthy. A yellow film covered it, and in some places, it was so thick it was almost orange. Up close, Alisha and Morgan could just barely see through it.

  Yep. There were five of them in there. All of them were wearing their fancy robes. They had their hoods pulled up, and they were spread out in a circle facing the middle of the room. No. Not a circle. They were on the five points of a pentagram, and in the center was Bob. He was tied to a chair with a gag in his mouth.

  Each of the cultists held a burning candle, and they were chanting something. Their words didn't make any sense at all, which is exactly why Morgan was so certain they were casting a spell, and from some of the symbols she saw on the floor, she could guess which type of spell.

  "They are going to banish Bob."

  Morgan might have said more except that a lot of things happened all at once.

  It started with a flash of white, followed immediately by a spray of sparks as the lights in the ceiling popped, plunging the office and most of the warehouse into darkness. Bob's chair rose into the air, and he squirmed frantically to escape.

  Morgan jumped up and pushed her hand against the filthy window, releasing the power of her push spell. The glass exploded inward. The force of the spell extinguished most of the candles and Morgan expected it to throw the cultists against the back wall.

  Instead, they turned and looked at her. The push spell hadn't even knocked their hoods off their heads. If it wasn't for the shards of broken glass being sprayed all over the room, she would have thought she had screwed up the spell.

  One of the cultists pointed at Morgan and shouted, "It's the witch."

  "No!" shouted the cultist furthest from Morgan. She recognized his voice as the one who confronted her in the parking lot. "Don't move. Don't break the ring. The aberration still remains."

  The cultists froze, and that's when Alisha jumped up to stand next to Morgan. She had the sights of her gun pointing right at the leader. "Put him down, asshole, before I put you down."

  The leader didn't move, and for a few seconds it looked like it was going to be a standoff, but then he spoke. "No. I don't think so. You don't have the aura of a killer about you, and even if you did, my life would be a small price to pay to keep the peace between light and dark. I would gladly sacrifice all of our lives to keep the world safe."

  Bob was jerking back and forth so violently in his chair that it looked like he was having a seizure. He banged his head against the seat back until the gag fell out of his mouth. "Morgan!" he screamed. "Behind you!"

  She spun, but it was already too late. A yellow haze formed in the air a few feet from the tool bag, the one with the portal anchor inside of it. Through the haze, Morgan could see the front of the candy house where Henry had been held.

  A tall, skeleton-thin woman with silver hair and gray, pasty skin stepped through the portal. Her arms seemed too long, and she stood with a hunch that made her neck stick out. Morgan had only seen her hands before, but she had no doubt as to who it was.

  "The Candy Crone!"

  CH 18 - Running is Always an Option

  When Bob and Morgan discovered the spell circle behind the library, they had used it to open a portal to the Crone's anchor point near her cottage. The Crone must have found Morgan's circle and did the same thing. She was here, stepping through a portal that had opened above the anchor stone in the tool bag, and she didn't look like she came to talk.

  The Crone shrieked. It was a shrill, hissing noise that made Morgan's ears rings. The old witch's dagger-like fingernails turned black and grew until they were easily as long as her fingers. She lunged forward, her hands coming for Morgan's throat.

  Morgan jumped to the side. She moved quickly, but the witch was quicker. Her yellowed nails caught the sleeve of Morgan's jacket and ripped three long tears from shoulder to elbow. Were it not for the sleeve, that would have been Morgan's arm that had been shredded beneath those claws.

  Yeah, the Crone was definitely not here to talk.

  Alisha swung her gun toward the Crone and pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession. The crack of the weapon echoed in the warehouse, making Morgan's ears ring even more. Alisha hadn't been bragging about her training. All three bullets struck the Crone in the chest, knocking her back with each impact. Had the portal still been open, the Crone might have fallen through it. Instead, her foot hit the tool bag and she fell backwards.

  "Holy shit," said Alisha. "That things not human."

  "Run! Get out of there." Bob continued to sh
out from his chair. He was trapped in the magic circle, hovering in the air as the cultist drew the spell to a close.

  "Stay, Brothers," shouted the leader of the crazies. "It is almost done. Hold your position."

  Morgan took a quick glance at the Crone, but instead of seeing a body lying in a pool of blood, the Crone was rolling to her hands and knees, pushing herself back to her feet. Three bullets to the chest and the Crone wouldn't stay down.

  Morgan stuck out her hand and cast the push spell. It caught the Crone just as she stood up. The force of the spell lifted the Crone into the air. Unlike the cultists, she didn't seem to have any protection against the spell. She flew backwards, past the front of the black SUV and landed in the middle of the warehouse. The Crone hit the ground and tumbled another half-dozen feet before coming to a halt. She barely stopped moving before jumping back to her feet.

  Alisha stepped in front of Morgan and fired several more shots. The trigger pulls were so close together that Morgan couldn't keep track of them. The cultist might have been right that Alisha wasn't going to shoot him, but she showed no reluctance to open fire on something that was clearly not human.

  Like before, the Crone staggered back with each shot, but she didn't go down. Morgan prepared the push spell a third time and aimed it at the Crone. This time the Crone didn't fall. The impact of the spell only slid her back a few feet. The second spell had felt less powerful than the first, but the third push spell was definitely the weakest of all. She had never cast so many spells so quickly in a row before.

  Her power was like a battery. Each spell she attempted must be draining it, and it would take time before she was fully charged again. At least she hoped it would recharge with time and she hadn't reached the end of her power.

  "This isn't working," shouted Alisha. "We need another plan."

  Morgan remembered Bob's advice when she snuck into the Candy Crone's lair. They would need to behead the old hag or burn her if they wanted to keep the crone down, and unfortunately Morgan still wasn't packing a machete or a flamethrower in her tool bag.

  She needed to free Bob. Maybe he would have an idea, and if not, at least they could make a run for it.

  She spun back to the captive demon as a flash of light exploded in the middle of the room where the cultists were gathered. It was so bright that when it vanished an instant later Morgan couldn't see anything but faint shadows.

  It took only a few seconds before her eyesight returned to normal. Considering that no one tried to kill her during that time, the blinding light must have affected everyone else too. When her vision cleared, the first thing that she noticed was that the cultists had finished their spell.

  Bob was gone. The chair they had tied him to had fallen to the ground and now it lay on its back.

  "Morgan," shouted Alisha. "Time to go." She fired another pair of rounds at the Crone, momentarily stopping her advance but doing little else.

  Morgan didn't move. She stood frozen in place, looking at the spot where Bob had been. She failed him. He helped her to save Henry, but she was too slow to save him.

  "What the Hell are you doing," yelled Bob. "Run!" His gnarled knuckles grabbed the window frame. He pulled himself up and over it, landing on his feet right in front of Morgan.

  Morgan wanted to snatch him up and give him a hug, but there wasn't time. Alisha grabbed her arm and pulled. She too was yelling for Morgan to run. The Candy Crone was coming.

  The cultists were also on the move. They were yelling at one another and rushing after Bob.

  Morgan, Alisha and Bob ran. Had they stayed there, they would have been trapped between the Crone and the cultists. Alisha led the way. She was sprinting to the room where they had come through their portal. It was the closest room with the bonus of having a really heavy, metal door. Morgan followed her with Bob right at her side. She thought she might need to carry him, so he wouldn't fall behind, but the little demon had no trouble keeping up with her.

  So much for not being built for speed. Apparently, all Bob needed was the proper motivation. Being chased by something right out of a twisted fairy tale seemed to be pretty effective. All three of them were running as fast as they could.

  Morgan stumbled as one of the cultists let out a horrible scream behind her. She righted herself before falling on her face and looked over her shoulder. The Crone was attacking the cultists. Whatever protection they had against Morgan's magic didn't help them against the Crone's claws. They were unarmed and unprotected. The Crone was cutting through them like a hot knife through butter.

  "Come on, Morgan." shouted Alisha. She waited by the metal door, ready to slam it shut the moment Morgan and Bob joined her. Morgan stopped running. She was staring at the scene by the black SUV. Two cultists were down, and the others were circling the Crone, trying to keep out of her reach. They were going to get themselves killed.

  Bob stood at her side. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled at the cultists as loud as he could. "Run, you fools. Run."

  "Fire," shouted Morgan. "We can kill it with fire or by cutting its head off." She looked back over her shoulder at Alisa. "I'll slow it down. Find me something to kill it with."

  "Are you crazy?" asked Alisha, but Morgan didn't answer. She was already running back to the fight, preparing her push spell again.

  "Yeah," muttered Alisha. "She's crazy." She swore and then ran out of the nice safe room she had planned to hide in and went back into the warehouse. She looked all around her and then took off as fast as she could, away from the fighting.

  Bob ran at Morgan's side. "What's the plan?" he asked.

  "Can I banish her," asked Morgan, "like I did the Hunter?"

  "No good," said Bob. "She might have come from the underworld, but she is a creature of this world now. There's no way to banish her. She'll keep coming until we kill her."

  "Then we need to get her close to the wall," said Morgan. "We can pin her in place with the car until Alisha shows up with something to cut her head off, or until she gives up and goes home."

  "Yeah," said Bob. "I don't think that will be too likely. What about our friends in the robes?"

  "Let's hope they are smart enough to recognize help when they see it."

  Bob shook his head. "They're fanatics," he said. "We might be in trouble."

  That was the understatement of the year. Morgan needed to save her push spell to move the SUV, and that was the only weapon she had. The cultists weren't any better off. Only three of them were still standing, and none of them were armed. There wasn't even a ceremonial dagger between the group of them.

  Morgan slipped off her backpack and dug into a side pocket. She pulled out a cigarette lighter and tossed it to Bob. "There's spray paint in the tool bag," she said.

  Bob smiled. "Instant flamethrower."

  "Let's hope."

  Slipping the backpack on, Morgan picked up her pace. She still wasn't sure what she was going to do, but she couldn't do nothing. The Crone had taken Henry, and if it got away, it would only be a matter of days before it took someone else.

  One of the cultists made a dash for the car. The headlights flashed as he unlocked the door and pulled it open, but he wasn't fast enough. The Crone was right behind him. She slashed her claws and he went down. The keys falling from his hand.

  Only two cultists remained, and they were backing away from the Crone. She turned toward them, claws raised, ready to finish them before they could escape.

  "Hey, Bitch," shouted Morgan as she stopped. Without a weapon, she needed to keep her distance. "Leave them alone."

  The Crone faced Morgan. "You," she hissed. "Where is the boy? Give him to me, and I will spare these pathetic creatures."

  "He's not here," said Morgan as she started to circle around the Crone, trying to put the SUV between the two of them. Maybe she could keep the ugly, old hag talking.

  The cultist had taken advantage of the distraction to run back to the room where they had tried to banish Bob. If they were smart they would be loo
king for another exit, but it seemed like they were searching for something else. It was too dark back there for Morgan to make out any details. Whatever they were looking for, she hoped it was the size of a cannon.

  "Then I have no need of you," said the Crone. She jumped at Morgan, covering the distance between the two of them in a single leap. She grabbed Morgan's sweat jacket with one clawed hand and raised the other, extending her claws to their full length.

  Before the hag could strike, Morgan shoved her right hand into the Crone's face and released the power of the push spell. The Crone's head snapped back with a crack, and she flew backwards, shredding Morgan's jacket as her claws pulled free.

  Morgan hit her again with the push spell, keeping the Crone off balance and pushing her back. The spell was definitely not as powerful as it had been, but it still packed enough of a punch to stop the Crone from sinking her claws into Morgan.

  The Crone hit the wall. Before she jumped forward to attack, there was a whooshing sound following by a red glow as a three-foot jet of flame shot toward her. Bob had found the spray paint. She backed away from the fire, but Bob didn't let up. He kept her pinned against the wall. Her hair caught fire and her skin began to blacken, but she didn't go down. The flames were spreading.

  With a horrible shriek, the Crone lunged forward. She hit the spray can, sending it flying. With her clothes on fire, she grabbed Bob and threw him. The demon hit the wall with a thud and fell to the floor.

  "Bob!" Morgan screamed. She unleashed another push spell, but it was so weak that the Crone didn't move. That was it. The battery was drained. Morgan ripped off her backpack and grabbed it in one hand. If that witch was coming for her, Morgan was going to go down swinging.

  The Crone screamed and charged at Morgan, but an even deeper roar filled the warehouse as the engine of the SUV turned over. It flew backwards and slammed into the Crone. It didn't stop moving until it crashed into the garage door. The glass in the back window shattered as the rear of the car crumpled on impact. The engine shut off, but the headlights remained on, flooding the warehouse in light.