The Witch and the Englishman (The Witches Series Book 2)

by J. R. Rain

  “Are you asking me to join you and Millicent? As a witch? In a triad?”

  “Is that something you might be interested in?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes! But...” She paused for dramatic effect, and I suspected this was a common ploy of hers; perhaps one could never take the actor out of her.

  “But what?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure I believe in all of this. Vampires? Werewolves? Ghosts? That’s a lot to take in. My head is sort of spinning here. I mean, a part of me believes that this is an elaborate practical joke.”

  “Like a hidden-camera, reality TV show?”

  “Yes, right. MTV perhaps?” She put down the glass of ice water.

  I nodded. It was perfectly reasonable for her to believe that, except that she had seen me perform a trick or two before her. A trick or two that could have been staged. Faked. Her aura, I saw, was green. Green meant that she was on guard. At least, that’s what I knew it to mean.

  “It’s not a ruse and not a reality show. What do I need to do to convince you that it’s one hundred percent real?” I asked.

  “Can I see Millicent?” Ivy challenged me.

  I grinned. “That’s up to her, but I’ll tell you right now, she’s been sitting next to you this entire time.”

  Despite herself, Ivy gasped, her hand shooting to her chest. “I-I don’t see her.”

  “She just put a hand on your knee,” I said. “She’s smiling at you. Do you feel her?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  “Hold out your hand,” I said. “And close your eyes.”

  Ivy did so, and I saw that it was shaking. Millicent, who was indeed sitting next to her, took her hand in her own. My old friend—a friend from different lives, different times—was indeed sitting there. My enhanced psychic sensitivities, thanks mostly to my close association with two different vampires, allowed me to see her easily enough. Ivy, although she not as psychic as me, sensed Millicent. I knew this because I saw the color of her aura change from green to a light orange.

  “You feel her,” I said. “Don’t you?”

  Ivy made no movement. Then, her hand opened and closed. Millicent now gripped Ivy’s corporeal hand in both of her ethereal hands, and she shivered.

  I watched the hair rise on the back of her neck. Her aura now rippled with a light blue. As Millicent sat with her, I knew she was drawing energy from her. Such energy would allow Millicent to make a full appearance.

  Which she was doing now.

  Little did Ivy know that a spirit was materializing next to her. Or perhaps, she did know. More and more of her hair was standing on end.

  “She’s sitting next to me now, isn’t she?” said Ivy. “I can feel the couch sinking. And I’m cold.”

  “If I said yes, would you be afraid?” I asked.

  “No,” promised Ivy, shaking her head, her eyes still closed. “I see ghosts and spirits all the time. I know there is more to this world than the visible.”

  “Then open your eyes,” I said.

  She did, and despite her promise, Ivy screamed anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  It was later.

  Ivy was still here. She hadn’t run out screaming as I had thought she might. She had jumped straight from the couch to the middle of the living room, where she had continued screaming until I had wrapped my arms around her.

  Then she had wept nearly hysterically, and apologized over and over. I reminded her that no one could predict how she would react to a spirit, especially one that had materialized next to her, holding her hand.

  Later, after a glass of wine, she had calmed down enough. Millicent, to her credit, remained in the room. Trial by fire. Meaning, Ivy was just going to have to get damn well used to seeing a spirit, if she was going to be a member of our triad.

  Now Ivy and I sat together on my coffee table, as Millicent remained seated on the couch. She was not really seated on the couch, I saw. Millicent was, in fact, rising and falling faintly. She only assumed the position of sitting, I knew, for our benefit. Hell, she could have just as easily been standing in the couch...or hovering near the ceiling.

  As Ivy calmed down, and her swirling, agitated aura calmed as well, I filled her in on Billy Turner and the demon whose name I believed might be “Baal.”

  “How do you know his name?”

  “I’m pretty sure that I know it from another lifetime. I’m thinking we have met before,” I dared to tell her.

  I was certain that this last disclosure would drive her to leave, and for her to drop me as her personal trainer as well. But I was wrong. As I spoke, Ivy’s eyes hardened and her grip on my forearm tightened.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said.

  “No, I want to. I want to help. This thing can’t keep hurting people. It’s not right. It has to go.”

  I blinked at her words, surprised. She was, after all, the same woman who nearly peed herself at seeing the ghost of a woman. How would she fare against a murderous demon? I didn’t know. But there was only one way to find out.

  “So, what do we have to do?” she asked.

  “You’re sure you want to do this?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ve dreamed of this day my whole life. Well, maybe not the day I would fight a demon, but the day I would meet my soul sisters. Little did I know that one of them worked for the Psychic Hotline and as a personal trainer, and that one of them was dead.”

  Truth was, I was still uncomfortable with Millicent’s presence. Yes, I was getting more and more used to her, but I was surprised to discover how quickly Ivy seemed to be used to the spirit, who faded in and out of sight.

  “And your friend really is a vampire?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Can I meet Samantha Moon someday? I am, after all, taking her place in the triad, right?”

  “Right. And, I’m sure you will meet her someday.”

  “Will she be mad that you told me her big secret?”

  “Furious.”

  Ivy grinned and rubbed my arm. “But she’ll let it go. She will understand. Say, do you think she would ever, you know, feed from me? It wouldn’t hurt to have own psychic abilities enhanced, as well.”

  I was oddly jealous. “We’ll see,” I said.

  “Well, I can’t imagine she’s too picky. She’s a vampire, for Christ’s sake. Blood is blood, right?”

  I wasn’t sure if I should be offended by her words, but decided to let it go. All of this was, I knew, new for her. She was undoubtedly overwhelmed by it all. Yeah, I was going with that.

  “She’s excited,” came Millicent’s words, directly into my head.

  She’s bugging me, I thought back.

  “Be patient. She is young and full of fire. Besides, we will need her for tonight’s work.”

  Tonight?

  “Yes, child. The time has come.”

  Ivy clapped her hands. “What are you two talking about? I can hear something, but not quite. It’s a sort of murmuring just inside my ear.”

  I shook my head, and said to Millicent, “Is nothing sacred?”

  Millicent laughed. “Patience.”

  “There you two go again. I hope you’re not talking about me,” Ivy said.

  “Nothing bad,” I said.

  “The two of you can speak telepathically?” she asked.

  “We can,” I admitted.

  Ivy clapped her hands. “Oh, cool! I can’t wait to try that! So what do we do now?”

  “We destroy a demon,” I said.

  “And then we can practice telepathy?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “One thing at a time.”

  My phone rang, and I glanced at the Caller I.D. Restricted Call. I had gotten this same type of call just yesterday, when Detective Smithy had called. I had no doubt that it was him again. I also had no doubt that it was going to be bad news.

  “Hello, Detective,” I said, answering, and waving for Ivy to keep quiet.

  “Liz Turner was found dead
in her jail cell an hour ago,” he said without any preamble.

  “Dead? How?”

  “Bit off her tongue, bled to death in bed.”

  “But I thought she was on suicide watch.”

  “She was. And they thought she was asleep. By the time they suspected something was wrong...it was too late.”

  “Shit,” I said.

  “I second that,” said the detective.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The house, if anything, seemed even more ominous as it loomed before us.

  And why wouldn’t it? Now that I knew a demon had been roaming within it for nearly a century, I was, I would freely admit, scared shitless.

  Ivy and I stood at the bottom of the driveway, holding hands. Ivy, for her part, stood with wide-eyed wonderment. Millicent had warned me that the girl was reckless. I would have to be wary of that. Or, at least, stay on the lookout for it...and maybe rein it in, if possible.

  I was more than a little concerned that Billy hadn’t been answering my calls. Once I established a connection with someone, I could generally reconnect with them later. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to re-establish the connection with Billy.

  That, of course, concerned me even more.

  In fact, I’d never not been able to re-establish a connection. What it meant was too horrible to consider.

  I saw again the image I had seen days ago, when Billy had first appeared to me via the Psychic Hotline. It was an image I had been doing my best to ignore. So, I pushed it aside now...and walked up the driveway with Ivy by my side. We continued holding hands. There were no cars in the driveway this time.

  As we approached the front door, the house seemed even bigger than I remembered. Perhaps knowing that it was also the residence of something sick and sinister had changed my perception of its beauty. As we approached the darkened porch, I couldn’t help but feel that this was a very, very bad idea.

  No, that wasn’t it. This was a good idea. Ridding the Earth of this...thing...was a good idea. I knew, in fact, that I was terrified to face it. I nearly turned around a half-dozen times and fled. In fact, it was Ivy’s steady grip that propelled me further.

  She and I were, of course, not alone.

  There, standing at the front porch, drifting on the currents of space and time, was Millicent. I doubted Ivy could see her at the moment. It took, I knew, a high level of second sight to see into the spirit world. I wasn’t quite as adept at it as, say, Samantha Moon, but I was getting stronger, and my second sight was getting clearer. Millicent wasn’t very clear. She was, in fact, an amorphous Millicent-shaped figure. By the way she stood, I knew her hands were clasped before her.

  The plan had been simple. Millie would scout ahead, if possible. I knew that she didn’t have access to all places at all times. Some folks set boundaries around their home. Something as simple as, say, a saging of a house, or a blessing, or anything else designed to keep spirits away. Whether good or bad, all spirits were forced to recognize and respect such intentions.

  “There are many lost souls within,” she said, her words appearing just inside my ears. “But he is alone.”

  I nodded. “Good.”

  “But Allie...”

  I knew what she would say. “I know,” I said, taking in a lot of breath.

  “You know what?” asked Ivy.

  “I’m speaking with Millicent,” I said.

  “Oh, right. I wish I could do that someday.”

  I suspected she would, but for now, I looked at my spirit friend. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

  “Completely, child. He is lost to us.”

  I nodded. Shit.

  “Who’s gone?” asked Ivy.

  I filled her in quickly and quietly. The street was quiet. In fact, I had heard no cars and had seen no pedestrians. It was a perfect night for demon hunting.

  “There’s more, child,” said Millicent. “There is death inside. Be prepared.”

  I nodded, although I wasn’t sure how to prepare myself. I warned Ivy as well. “Inside, there is death. Are you ready?”

  There was, of course, a slightly wicked gleam in her eye. Yeah, she might be trouble. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  I didn’t bother with knocking. Instead, I raised my hands, and, summoning the power that was always waiting within me—a power that swirled in and around and through me—I blew the front double doors off their hinges.

  “Holy shit!” said Ivy when all the crashing finally subsided and the dust settled. “How did you—”

  “Never mind that,” I said, grabbing her hand. “C’mon.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The stench was overwhelming.

  I tried to fight the vomit that rose as I searched for a light switch. No good. As my groping hands hit a switch, I let go of Ivy’s hand, turned my head and launched what I’d eaten for dinner tonight. I held myself up against the wall, as more of my dinner and probably some lunch and breakfast came up, too.

  Ivy wasn’t having the same problem. As I stood, wiping my mouth, she was already moving through the house.

  “Wait—” I said, holding my stomach.

  “It’s coming from the kitchen. Stay here. Let me have a look. I have a feeling I can handle this stuff better than you. I played a crime scene investigator in my last movie and there was a lot of fake gore. You should have seen the gross things that I had to do...”

  Mercifully, her voice trailed off as she turned through a door that I knew led to the kitchen. Never had I smelled something so fetid. So ripe, so dead, so overwhelming.

  As Ivy stepped into the kitchen, she backed up almost immediately, stumbling, gasping, holding her hands to her face. She backed into the far wall. I think she even hit her head. Then she, too, turned and vomited.

  Some heroes we are, I thought.

  I had my phone in my hand before I realized it. My intent was to call the police. When you find a body, you call the police right? It seemed reasonable.

  As I stood there in the entry hall, while Ivy, so brave, and yet, so foolish, vomited in the main hallway, I put my phone away. For now. Whoever was in there was dead. There was nothing we could do about that now. There was, however, still a chance that we could remove the entity responsible for all of this.

  I took some deep breaths through my mouth, tasting vomit—but at least I wasn’t smelling the dead—I suddenly wished I had a gun, or that Samantha was with me. Or Smithy. Or Sanchez. Or the werewolf, Kingsley. Hell, I just wished I had a gun.

  Ivy came back, wiping her mouth.

  “Who was it?” I asked.

  “I...I don’t know. A woman. She’s been dead for a few days, my guess. Bloated—”

  I held up my hand, cutting her off. “Please.”

  “Calm yourself, child,” said Millicent in my head, although I could not presently see her. “We have its attention. You will need to keep your wits about yourself. Go with Ivy and prepare the spell. I will distract it.”

  Be careful, I thought. But Millicent was already gone.

  I paused briefly, took in a lot of air, and forced myself to stay calm. That a horrific demon was slithering through this house somewhere, I had no doubt. Millicent would do her part, but now, it was time to do ours.

  I pushed away from the wall and, still breathing through my mouth, cleared the living room floor, tossing aside the coffee table and pulling away the rug. We needed an open space for the containment spell. Ivy, who had recovered from her own shock, was by my side, helping.

  “You okay?” I said to her.

  She nodded and was about to speak, when a god-awful shriek shook the house to its very foundation. Ivy’s eyes widened in terror. I had a feeling that my expression matched hers.

  I took her hands. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay,” I said. “You’re on.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Ivy got busy.

  She dug around in a pouch she had been carrying around her neck—it was an ancien
t leather satchel that she had found in an antique store and somehow, I knew it had been previously owned by another witch. It was old and crusted, and from within, she removed a glass vial filled with powdered ingredients. And then, more vials and jars came out of the satchel, as if it was bottomless and huge, like the proverbial magic carpetbag. Ivy used the biggest vial like a mixing bowl.

  I knew there were two schools of potioncraft: there were some witches who followed spell recipes and got their ingredients decanted and mixed to a “T” and those witches who trusted their inner knowing and mixed potion spells by instinct.

  Ivy was the latter type of witch—no, she did not use a spell book or any recipe. I watched her remove vials of wormwood and sulfur powder, jars of mandrake and kava kava. She added touches of this, dashes of that, and I watched in awe. Yes, she did seem to know what she was doing. But had she created an actual demonic binding potion?

  Of that, I had no clue...and I could only pray that Millicent and I had recruited the right witch.

  I watched as Ivy sprinkled the ingredients in what appeared to be a semicircle. She pivoted in the center as she spread the mixture, which came out as a blue powder which was strange, since none of the raw ingredients were blue. She paused in the middle and looked at her handiwork. Then she corked the vial again. She slipped it back in her pouch, and as she raised her hands and cast her gaze toward the ceiling—the lights in the house flickered...and then, went out completely.

  We were plunged into complete darkness. It was the thickest darkness I had ever experienced.

  “Oh, shit,” I said. The furious bellow from below seemed like it was getting closer. It seemed like it was, in fact, coming up the basement stairs to the living room.

  “It’s coming!” I said.

  But Ivy wasn’t paying attention to me. She was mumbling an incantation. She spoke faster and faster, repeating words and phrases and stringing them together in exactly the order they should go, instinctively knowing what to say.