Witch's Blood_Bloodless_A Paranormal Romance

by Neha Yazmin

  The DI is now joined by another officer, whose title I didn’t quite catch, sitting in the chair beside him. He’s a lot younger than Carver and less good-looking.

  Whereas Carver is all bulk and broad shoulders, medium height and dark hair, his colleague is tall and lean, fair-haired and blue-eyed.

  The chair beside me is empty.

  I wasn’t offered the chance to call a lawyer either, because I wasn’t “under suspicion”.

  “Run this by me again,” DI Carver says, leaning forward on the table. “You got a ‘bad vibe’ off of Henderson’s?” He clears his throat.

  Carver is clearly good at his job – he knows I lied about how I was simply passing the burnt down bar and checked it out because I got a ‘bad vibe’ from it.

  Hanging my head, I admit, “It wasn’t just that.”

  They say nothing, waiting for me to elaborate, but Carver does clear his throat.

  He doesn’t have a husky voice, which would suggest that he’s suffering from summer flu, so the throat clearing is probably just an unconscious habit.

  Now that I’ve spent a little more time with him, I think he’s a lot younger than I’d initially thought.

  Mid-thirties, perhaps?

  “I was at the bar a few doors down from Henderson’s tonight,” I murmur. “And the waitress mentioned it was so busy in there because they’d ended up with Henderson’s crowd following the fire. It just made me a little anxious, I guess…”

  “Like intuition?” the younger cop asks. “Your gut thought that your missing girl might be hidden there?”

  I shake my head no.

  “It wasn’t like that,” I tell them. “I just couldn’t forget about what the waitress said. When I got home, I just… I wanted to check it out, just to ease my mind.”

  Then, they grill me with the other questions Carver asked at the scene, in random order this time.

  To catch me out, I suppose.

  And I’m afraid to say that I stutter and hesitate in answering their rapid-fire questions, making myself look really bad.

  Guilty, almost.

  People might think that if you’re innocent and telling the truth, you’ll never slip up.

  But innocent though I may be, I’m not telling the whole truth.

  I’m keeping my magic and the unexplainable A-Z incident a secret, as well as Imogen’s magical background.

  And I haven’t mentioned Callum yet.

  I don’t know why.

  Soon, we’re back to how I managed to track down Imogen’s body.

  How I thought to look for her in the cellar of Henderson’s.

  I guess this is the biggest mystery of all, after the mystery of how Imogen died.

  “It’s a good thing the waitress mentioned the fire,” says the younger officer.

  I nod and say, “Yes. She was very chatty.”

  “And you were there, at the bar, looking for Miss Hardy?” asks Carver before clearing his throat.

  It’s kinda getting on my nerves, his throat clearing.

  “I was there hoping to find out where she was, yes,” I answer evasively.

  Carver’s grey eyes narrow.

  “Were you there by yourself or were the victim’s sister and Miss Gilmore there with you, too?” Carver asks.

  “No, Simone and Jax – Jacqueline – weren’t with me. I sent them home when it got dark.”

  Carver nods while his colleague jots this down on his notepad, something he’s been responsible for since they started questioning me.

  “Do you remember the waitress’s name?” young cop asks, still scribbling away. “We’ll need to talk to her. We’ll find her anyway – we know where she works – but if you knew her name, the process would be faster.”

  “I can’t remember her name…” I admit.

  Then I sigh.

  “Maybe Callum will remember,” I mumble, looking down at the table.

  The waitress will mention I was with a guy, so I might as well tell the police about Callum now.

  “Callum?” queries Carver.

  “I was there with Callum Dent,” I confess. “Imogen’s boyfriend. To see if he could think of anything that might help find her.”

  The two officers tilt their heads to the side as I tell them what Callum said about Imogen being distant and aloof lately.

  “He said he’s going to call the detective in charge of Imogen’s case tomorrow morning,” I finish.

  Carver’s eyes narrow so bad he’s almost squinting.

  “Well, later on this morning, since it’s already Thursday…” I add.

  To that, Carver says, “Now, that’s interesting.”

  Chapter 14

  THEY’RE NOT DONE QUESTIONING ME, NOT BY A LONG WAY. Not now that I’ve mentioned Callum.

  They’d have to be the dumbest police officers in the world to not see that I only mentioned Callum when it became clear that they’d find out about my meeting with him from the talkative waitress.

  Lucky for me, Carver decides that we need a little ‘break’ and leaves me alone in the interview room.

  I bet they’re trying to work out a new strategy now – how to take the questioning further.

  How to make me crack.

  Serves me right for trying to keep Callum out of it in the first place!

  His girlfriend was found dead, and he would’ve been the prime suspect if I hadn’t acted so foolish and tried to protect him.

  As it stands, it looks like I’m the prime suspect.

  *

  The detective and his companion don’t return in the next hour, an hour during which my exhaustion comes to the fore.

  Its early morning now, I think, and I haven’t slept a wink all night.

  I’m absolutely knackered.

  I keep yawning, my eyelids drooping.

  Silly, how I feel like getting some shut-eye when I’m being questioned in a murder case.

  I’ll see you in your dreams, Amber.

  Yes, I’d be lying if I said that that little statement of Callum’s has nothing to do with wanting to drift off to sleep.

  Stupid, stupid!

  As if that’s going to happen!

  Most nights, I have a dreamless sleep.

  Tonight, if I dream, I don’t think it will be anything other than reliving the moment when I found Imogen’s dead body in the cellar of a brunt down bar.

  It won’t be a dream.

  No. It would be a nightmare.

  *

  I’m in a black, black forest, all shadows and mist.

  I can only tell that it’s a forest because of the slight breeze skimming over the trees, causing the dark shadows to sway and undulate in a foreboding way.

  It’s so quiet, though.

  No rustling of leaves.

  No hooting of owls.

  Even the twigs and leaves and the prickly, uneven grass beneath my feet don’t crunch as I walk, don’t make a sound.

  And it’s cold.

  My arms are absolutely freezing.

  I hug myself as I proceed through the blackness, and feel diamond-hard surfaces poking into the skin of my arms.

  My bare arms.

  I look down at what I’m wearing, still expecting to see my mother’s black biker jacket.

  But no.

  I’m in a dress.

  Not a dress, really.

  A beautiful ball-gown.

  It’s too dark to see what colour the gown is, but I can feel the sharp tips of the hundreds of tiny crystals carpeting the bodice as my hands run over my torso.

  There are no straps over my shoulders and the back of the dress seems to dip low, almost halfway down to my back.

  And the skirt…

  Soft, soft mesh-like fabric. Layers and layers of it, fanning out all around me, keeping my legs and feet well insulated, warm.

  There are a few little crystals sprinkled about on the skirt and their sharp edges almost cut into my palms as I explore the delicate fabric.

  Why am I dressed like a got
hic princess?

  What am I doing in this dark forest?

  Scanning my surroundings, I can see no break in the blackness, no trail through the trees that would lead me, not out of the woods, but at least lead me somewhere.

  Now that I’ve uncovered what I’m wearing, it’s much harder to move in this dress. I have to lift the skirt of the gown so my feet can pop through and–

  Well, what d’ya know?

  My shoes – well, my heels – seem to be made of crystal, too, so hard and tight around my feet that it’s painful to take even baby-steps forward.

  Cinderella, indeed!

  But Cinderella was off to a ball, wasn’t she?

  Is that where I’m headed?

  Most likely.

  If I could just get out of this shadowy jungle!

  Suddenly, the silence is broken by hissing and snapping sounds.

  Hissing like that of a snake and snapping like the sound of twigs and branches breaking under someone’s weight.

  Someone’s footsteps.

  “Hello?” I call out. “Who’s there?”

  More hissing and snapping – the sounds of pursuit – getting closer to where I am.

  Has someone come to help me or to attack me?

  I spin around; the hissing, now accompanied by snarling, seems to be coming from behind me.

  But there’s nothing but darkness all around.

  Still, the sounds suggesting that I’m not all alone here get closer, louder.

  Heavy breathing…

  “Who’s there? Show yourself!” I demand.

  Snarling and low growling…

  “Who’s out there?”

  Hissing…

  And footsteps…

  Clutching at my skirt, I spin around and start running from the invisible threat.

  But I’m hobbling really, my rock-hard shoes not letting me move fluidly, the weight of my gown slowing me down further.

  Damn it, my pursuers are moving faster now, too!

  I can hear panting, throats almost gurgling, getting even closer.

  What’s going on here?

  Then I hear a roar.

  Not like a lion’s, but something more sinister yet less animalistic.

  Stupidly, my curiosity wins over my survival instincts and I look over my shoulder.

  And what I see is so shocking that my legs almost give out under me, and I stumble forward until I have to put the breaks on so not to fall flat on my face.

  Even more stupidly, my intrigue makes me turn around completely to further appraise the creature that’s been chasing me.

  The creature stops, too, just a few feet from me.

  Dead silence descends as I take in the thing before me.

  It’s nothing like anything I’ve ever seen.

  It’s like an animal but not.

  Built like a human but not:

  Two – clawed – legs, two – clawed – arms, a torso, a head, a pair of eyes – red in colour; red! – a pair of floppy ears and a snout-like nose.

  No, it is definitely not human.

  Even in the dark, black forest, I can see that it’s covered in long, dark, shaggy hair, but I can’t ascertain the exact colour. Grey? Black? Brown?

  Although it’s standing on two legs, it’s almost crouching forward, like its better off moving on all fours.

  It probably is.

  “What the hell are you?” I find myself whispering.

  My words break the silence that had come over the forest when I stopped hobbling away from this… this monster.

  “Demon!”

  As though my last word had broken its trance, the thing… the creature lunges towards me with an ear-splitting snarl.

  “Aaargh!” I scream but the sound is swallowed by that of the creature’s.

  There’s no way I can outrun this thing, in the dress and shoes that I’m in, and now that it’s airborne and heading right for me, there’s really no point in trying to escape.

  And yet, instinct takes over and as my eyes close in fear, in surrender and defeat, my arms fly outward as though to push the thing away from me.

  Seconds pass, my heart hammering in my chest, ringing in my ears.

  Blood running cold.

  I wait for the pain.

  Wait for the sound of teeth chewing off bone and muscle.

  For my scream.

  For certain death.

  But nothing happens.

  I still feel my arms – did the monster not get its teeth into them when I’d thrust them forward?

  I don’t feel anything wet and warm on my body – did I not bleed when the creature devoured my outstretched limbs?

  Dropping my arms, tentatively, I open my eyes.

  The monster is lying on the forest floor, several yards away from me, scrambling to get on its feet.

  How did it get all the way over there?

  It should be feasting on me as I speak.

  Had I really pushed it away from me?

  Am I physically that strong, strong enough to throw it so far away from me?

  But I didn’t feel anything…

  I don’t think I even touched the thing–

  Magic!

  Of course!

  I used my powers to send it flying away from me!

  I forgot about my magic!

  I never forget about that.

  Ever since I can remember, magic has been my go-to weapon when faced with a threat.

  So why did I forget about my powers just now?

  I must be dreaming.

  Yes.

  It did feel a bit strange that I was in a dress I’d never wear in a million years – not even in my dreams, actually; strange! – in a forest so dark with no end in sight.

  Realising that I can, I conjure up a ball of light just in time to see the monster get on all fours and race towards me at lightning speed.

  Thrusting my right arm out, I send it flying back several feet, much further back than when I’d used my powers unknowingly, in defence.

  I expect its flight to be broken by a tree, but it keeps soaring through the blackness until it loses momentum and finally drops to the floor.

  It moans, but doesn’t make to get up just yet.

  This gives me enough time and peace of mind to really take in my surroundings, now that my magical torch is lighting things up for me.

  I was so wrong.

  I’m not in a forest.

  I see no trees or bushes or anything.

  Just an open space filled with black shadows.

  What the hell is this place?

  It feels so real, and yet it doesn’t feel like a place that exists in my dreams or nightmares.

  Like it wasn’t constructed by my unconscious mind.

  If I knew where I was, if I knew what was beyond this land of darkness – if there is anything beyond this land of darkness – I could have transported my way out of here.

  The creature’s moans are soon accompanied by the same hissing and snarling that had first disturbed the silence.

  Meaning: there are more of them around here.

  As though they want to prove me right, four more hairy demonic creatures like the first one emerge out of the blackness, the shadows curtaining away for them to make themselves known to me.

  Two of the newcomers are twice the size of the first monster that had chased me, and the other two flanking them are slightly smaller.

  They’re on all fours, and as they slowly, menacingly, pad their way towards me, my ball of light illuminates their coats.

  The creatures are of varying shades of grey. The larger ones are darker, almost black like the night sky, while the smaller ones are pale-grey like the moon.

  Flinging my arms outward, I send them skidding several yards back.

  Then I make a run for it in the opposite direction.

  I need to get out of here!

  Find out where here is.

  And why it’s crawling with monsters of the likes I’ve never seen.

 
I don’t want to spend the whole of this dream defending myself against these abominable creatures.

  I run for ages – and probably for miles – but I see no end to the darkness, no light in the distance.

  Whenever I hear the sound of pursuit, I swing my arms backwards to fend off the creatures chasing me, without breaking stride and plough on.

  The nice thing about running in your dreams: you don’t feel tired.

  Well, I don’t.

  And this is the first time I’m running in my dreams.

  My magical floating torch of sorts follows me, only illuminating the never-ending darkness by a few feet and doesn’t allude to a way out.

  This feels like the longest dream ever.

  When will it end?

  Chapter 15

  INSPIRATION SUDDENLY – FINALLY – HITS ME AND I COME TO A HALT.

  Just because I need to know my destination before I use a transporter spell in the real world – I need to have a place in mind, like a street name, a postcode; it’s even better if I know the exact address or if I’ve been there before – it doesn’t mean that that’s the case in my dreams.

  After all, such dark emptiness doesn’t exist in the real world, so I can bend the rules of my magic to get myself out of here.

  Here’s hoping…

  And I’m supposed to get myself out of here, because the dream is not coming to an end.

  I get the feeling it will only end when I uncover all its mysteries.

  Throwing off my pursuers a final time, I close my eyes and concentrate.

  I don’t want to transport to my bedroom, to a specific place I know in the world outside my subconscious. No. I want to go to the place that will help make sense of where I am.

  This is the first fluid dream I’ve had in ages, if not ever, and I’m sure it bears a significance.

  It means something.

  This might even be a real place, a place that exists outside the world we live in.

  Aiden’s always going on about alternate dimensions and whatnot, and we know there are several Demon Realms…

  Also, the timing of this dream, on the night I discover Imogen’s dead body, bled to death but with no blood in the vicinity…

  I’m sure that’s no coincidence, either.

  Here goes nothing…

  Take me to where the answers lie, I ask of my magic.