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

by Keith Keffer

  Morgan smiled. "You're responsible for her," she said. "She craps on the floor, I expect you to pick up after her."

  "Hmm... Maybe I need to rethink this. By the way, Jimmy called. Helen's surgery went well. They'll probably be releasing her and Henry this evening. He can bring them home if you don't feel up to making the drive to the hospital. Everyone knows you are exhausted."

  "Her surgery is done?" asked Morgan. Her eyes going wide. "What time is it?"

  "Close to one-o'clock. We figured we'd let you sleep while we cleaned up downstairs." Glancing over at Morgan's room, he grimaced, which wasn't a particularly good look on his face. "I think we'll have a few days before she makes it up the stairs. Plenty of time to get that straightened out. I'm not sure how we are going to explain the kitchen door though. The frame is going to need to be replaced."

  "You should have woken me," said Morgan.

  "Nah," said Bob. He pivoted on his front heel and started to walk away. He paused before taking more than two or three steps. "Take a shower and get dressed. We can talk more when you're no longer making my eyes water. You smell like roasted Crone."

  That sounded like a great idea. Forty-five minutes later she was downstairs in the kitchen with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of her.

  "Don't get used to it," said Alisha, "It's about the only thing I can make."

  "It's wonderful," said Morgan between mouthfuls. She wasn't sure when the last time she had a hot meal was. It felt like forever.

  Bob pulled a chair out from the table and climbed up on it and turned to face Morgan. "So," he asked. "What's the plan, Moda?"

  Alisha finished drying off the frying pan and put it away, then she also turned to face Morgan. "Yeah," she said. "When do we go after the Crone? We can't let her get away."

  "Don't forget about the Adrestian Order," said Bob. "Those guys are probably crazy, but they did know their way around a banishment spell." He lifted his arm and the bracelet Morgan forced him to wear before leaving the summoning circle appeared on his wrist. A few seconds later it faded away, invisible, but still there. "I was thinking about it, and I think that the bracelet is what messed up their spell and your spell earlier. If I take it off, you should be able to send me back."

  Morgan shook her head. "No way," she said around a mouthful of eggs. She forced them down before saying anything else. "Bob. I don't want to send you back. We had a deal and you lived up to your end of it. Whatever you want to do, I'll go along with, but I think you should stay."

  "Of course, he should stay," said Alisha.

  "I'll stick around, if that's alright," said Bob. "I think together we can do some good." He looked over at Alisha and added, "You too. That took some guts and a little bit of crazy to follow Morgan through that portal to get me."

  Alisha nodded. "I'd like that. I have been looking for answers for years, and this is the closest I've ever come to finding any."

  Morgan finished her breakfast or was it lunch. It always confused her when she got up this late. Bob and Alisha were staring at her. Bob was smiling. He'd been doing a lot of that today. Alisha leaned against the sink. She was chewing on her lower lip.

  That's when Morgan realized they were waiting for her. Whatever they did, they expected her to make the decision.

  Bob was looking for a path to redemption, and from the changes he's gone through, Morgan figured he was heading in the right direction. He may have come into her life by accident, but he had made the choice to stay of his own free will. Without his help, she never would have found Henry.

  Morgan really didn't know Alisha other than she was the ex-reporter with a gun who helped Morgan get Bob back. Alisha also understood what it was like to have lost someone, and she was desperate to find clues to what happened to her brother. Morgan could help her. That would be a start.

  "Alright," said Morgan. "Let's do this. There's a Candy Crone out there, and we need to stop her before she gets her claws on anyone else."

  Bob grinned and winked at Alisha. "See. I told you she would say yes."

  Alisha smiled, and said, "Thank you." Then, she ran out of the kitchen into the living room.

  Morgan raised an eyebrow and turned to Bob, who lifted his hand to stop her question before she could ask it. "Wait," he said. "Alisha and I have been busy while you were catching up on your sleep."

  It took less than thirty seconds before Alisha reappeared with a cardboard box filled with papers. She dropped the box on the table and pulled one of those fancy leather-bound journals out of it. She handed that to Bob.

  He turned it around and showed Morgan. "Nice, right?" he said. "Alisha gave me this to write down everything I know about the things we encounter." He opened it to the first page and there was a crude sketch of the Candy Crone with a bunch of notes in Bob's blocky style of writing.

  Before Morgan could read what was on the page, Alisha pulled out a stack of manila folders and spread them out on the table. Each one had a name on the tab. Morgan saw Henry's name on the top of one of the folders.

  "Every unsolved missing person reports that I could find within fifty miles of Whitebridge over the last three decades." Alisha lifted Henry's file from the stack and handed it to Morgan. "Well, now it's only the unsolved ones. We can find out if this Candy Crone had something to do with any of these."

  "We'll need swords," said Bob, "or an ax. Something to cut off the head."

  "And gas," said Alisha, "to burn the body."

  Morgan leaned back in her chair and listened to Bob and Alisha plan. The next time they run into the Crone they would be ready.

  Morgan would be ready too. She had her spellbook and a teacher. More than that, she had friends who would stand beside her.

  The monsters hiding in the world didn't stand a chance.

  *** THE END ***

  Thanks for reading The Promises of Demons

  If you enjoyed this book, I would be extremely

  grateful if you would leave a brief review at your favorite retailer.

  To leave a review at Amazon, click on this link https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BTPN38Z

  and then go to the Customer Reviews section.

  Do you like free stories? Are you curious what Bob’s existence was like before he was summoned by Morgan? If so, consider signing up for Keith’s newsletter. You’ll get access to free stories and updates on new releases. To sign up, go to keithkeffer.com/newsletter/

  Turn the page for a preview of Shaper of Stone, the first book in The Shapers series.

  Shaper of Stone – Preview

  Man, I didn’t want to get out of bed. What the heck did I do last night anyway? A guy should be able to sleep in on the weekend. Crap, I really have to pee.

  With that last thought I opened my eyes, threw back the covers and immediately started to freak out. Not like running in a circle and screaming freaking out, but the drop your jaw, look around in awe and maybe a little fear, as you realized you didn’t recognize anything.

  Well recognized wasn’t the right word. I knew I was sitting on a bed with a heavy wool blanket half hanging on the floor. A white pitcher covered with purple flowers rested on a side table within easy reach. On one wall hung a curtain with black and orange diamond shapes, and it looked like a pair of oil lamps flanked the arched door across from the foot of the bed. They burned steadily with a low flame.

  I recognized those things. It didn’t feel like amnesia either. I knew my name was Devin Symms, but this wasn’t my home, and these weren’t my things. I lived in a one-bedroom trailer. One of those silver tubes that old people love to tow behind their cars. I’m pretty sure this room was bigger than the entire thing.

  I didn’t drink, do drugs or even hang out at parties, so waking up someplace strange was a new concept to me. The last thing I remembered was locking up the bookstore where I worked after staying late to stock some new books.

  Oh crap, maybe it was amnesia. The short term localized type.

  What if I got mugged or kidnapped and now I�
��m being held prisoner and… Wait a minute. I didn’t feel like a prisoner. The place looked pretty nice actually, and while my head hurt it felt more like I stayed up too late playing video games and not like I got hit over the head with something.

  The urge to pee reminded me that I had a more immediate concern than how I got here. I wondered where the bathroom was? Crap! I wondered where my pants were! I was naked!

  A woman! That was it. I must have met someone and ended up… Nah. I was sure I would remember something like that. At least I hoped I would. And besides, it didn’t look like anyone else slept here.

  Getting out of bed, I winced as my feet touched the cold stone floor, and I began the quest to find my clothes. It wasn’t like there were a lot of places for them to hide. Besides the small table next to the bed, there was a wooden trunk at its foot and a high wardrobe against the wall behind me. A desk with a high-backed chair sat next to the wall as well.

  Careful not to stub my toe on anything, I decided to check out the wardrobe. Well, at least I think that was what you would call it. It was taller than me and twice as wide. It sort of reminded me of a locker from high school except that it was made of dark red wood and had two doors with polished brass handles.

  Of course, it was empty. Maybe the trunk. Nope, it was empty too. And, now I was hopping back and forth on my toes doing the pee-pee dance. Screw it. I pulled the blanket from the bed, wrapped it around me, and immediately smacked my big toe against the trunk at the foot of the bed.

  “Son of a…!” Continuing to mutter under my breath I sat on the chest and took a look at the blood pouring from my ripped toenail. “Isn’t that just freakin’ great!”

  Trying to ignore the throbbing in my toe, I limped over to the door leaving a bloody trail where my right foot touched the floor. Pulling open the door I saw a brightly lit hallway, and this room was at one end. A guy at the other end stood there with his back to me.

  I stepped into the hallway and shouted, “Hey buddy! Where’s the bathroom?”

  I figured I’d take care of important business first. I could work out the rest of this when I didn’t feel like I had an exploding bladder.

  The stranger turned and said something I didn’t understand, and this time I did freak out. I screamed and ran back to the room, slamming the door behind me. My bloody toe hit the corner of the door, and I screamed again.

  Crap! Crap! Crap! I needed to hide. Where… The wardrobe? No. That was one of the first places he would look. That ruled out under the bed and in the trunk too. Great! I was trapped here with nowhere to run and no place to hide.

  I saw the pitcher on the night table. I grabbed it and dumped the water onto the floor. Okay two maybe three pounds. Not much, but it felt better than nothing.

  I clutched the improvised weapon in my hand while moving back to the doorway. With my back to the wall, I shifted the pitcher to get a better grip. I didn’t play baseball, but I intended to swing like an all-star at the first thing that came through that door.

  Because whatever it was at the end of the hall, that guy didn’t look human.

  -o-

  Thanks for reading.

  If you are looking forward to discovering what happens to Devin Symms, please visit keithkeffer.com/books/shaper-of-stone/

  Shaper of Stone is the first book in The Shapers series.

  About the Author

  Keith Keffer is an author, software developer, martial artist and an avid gamer. His earliest writing revolved around writing adventure games, and three decades later that effort led to the completion of his first novel.

  He is the author of the Shaper Series and The Witch of Whitebridge series. His short story, “372,” was included in Laurel Highlands Publishing’s anthology Disturbance. He is also a regular contributor to the anthology series published by the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group.

  Keith loves books, lots of books in lots of different genres. He tends to be an action/adventure type junkie. If it has monsters, swords, magic, explosions, spaceships, ghosts or cowboys he is probably going to enjoy it. He is also a sucker for crude, twisted humor. Keith claims that it’s not his fault. His dad led him to the dark side many years ago. He tries to keep it reigned in, but it’s like the Hulk. Once it is out, it is hard to get it back under control. You can find out more about Keith by visiting his website at keithkeffer.com or by emailing him at keith@keithkeffer.com.

  Contact Keith at: keith@keithkeffer.com

  Keith’s website: keithkeffer.com/

  Follow Keith on Facebook: www.facebook.com/keithkefferauthor

  Do you like free stories? If so, consider signing up for Keith’s newsletter. You’ll get access to free stories and updates on new releases. To sign up, go to keithkeffer.com/newsletter/