Shadow Maker: Morrighan House Witches Book One

by Amir Lane

  “Help!” he screamed.

  He scratched at her wrists but his nails were too blunt to do any damage. Adrenaline and blue energy ran through his veins. His palm burned where it pressed against her skin. Her hold on his hair loosened enough for him to slip away. He ran for the windows, but Abaddon blocked his path. He swiped at Dieter’s face but the claws passed through him. The angry shriek rang through his ears and made his teeth hurt. He turned back around to see where Brigitte was. From the corner of his eyes, he could see his Shadows struggling with Abaddon.

  The blood on the letter opener still clenched in her hand was dripping onto the laminate flooring. Brigitte was limping with one of the heels on her shoes broken. It slowed her down, but it didn’t stop her. Still, it gave him enough time to make it to the window.

  And suddenly, the idea of jumping seemed like the most stupid idea he’d ever had.

  Turning back to Brigitte, staying seemed just as stupid. Neither option was a good one. There was still the door. Maybe he could get it open this time. He had to try. He couldn’t jump, not if he didn’t absolutely have to. His arm was still bleeding, but he didn’t feel it through the adrenaline. The Shadows were still fending Abaddon off, though it was a losing battle. He only had one chance. There was no way he could take on both Abaddon and Brigitte. Especially not when Abigail could show up at any second.

  ‘Don’t think, just move.’

  He shoved past her and bolted for the door again. The letter opener caught his cheek this time, then stuck in the back of his shoulder.

  Dieter stumbled, landing just a few feet shy of the door. He could hear the uneven steps getting closer and closer. The letter opener was wrenched from his shoulder, tearing a scream from his throat. He crawled away, trying to push himself to his feet.

  “Please don’t do this,” he said, sobbing. “Abaddon, don’t– Please! Alistair!”

  His cries fell on unhearing ears. Abaddon kept letting out unearthly whispers, and Brigitte limped forward with the letter opener raised above her head.

  “Stop her! Please, stop her!”

  He fell back against the door. His hand tried for the doorknob. His skin was too slick with blood to get any decent grip. Dieter choked on his sobs, leaving a trail of blood as he slid down against the wood. He looked over at the Shadows through his tears before squeezing his eyes shut.

  “Do something!”

  A window broke, the sound glass scattering along the floor hitting Dieter’s ears. Hot blood splashed across his face. The choked gurgling sound that followed made Dieter feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to look, but he forced himself to open his eyes anyway.

  A piece of glass was sticking out of Brigitte’s throat. The blank look on her face was replaced with one of confused fear. She reached for the glass, her hands shaking. And then her body crumpled to the floor.

  Dieter pulled his legs up to his chest. What the fuck just happened? What the fuck just happened? He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face to his knees. Dizziness and exhaustion hit him all at once. He tried to move his right hand, but the pain in his shoulder was too sharp. Trembling, he reached into a back pocket with his left and pulled his phone out. His thumb left a bloody streak across the screen. There wasn’t enough friction to unlock it. He wiped his hand on his jeans to get some of the blood off and tried again. His hand stopped working and the phone slipped onto the ground.

  His vision swam and darkened and he wasn’t sure what happened next but he was pretty sure he blacked out. When he opened his eyes again, he was in the back of an ambulance. There was a tight itch in his arm and in his shoulder.

  “What–?”

  “Easy, kid. Can you hear me?”

  Dieter nodded. The Shadows moved behind the paramedic, leaning over and around him. The paramedic talked on, a list of care instructions that barely registered. And then he was being ushered out of the ambulance. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, supporting his weight.

  “I have you,” Selima said.

  “What’re you doing here?” he mumbled.

  Not that he wasn’t happy as hell to see her.

  “Your spirits came to find us.”

  Dieter groaned and swore. His body ached even through the painkillers that had been pumped into his veins. Dieter squeezed her hand.

  “Please don’t leave,” he whispered.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. “We’re going to take care of you, habibi.”

  Selima’s heels clicked against the pavement. She and Yasir stood in front of him, blocking him from the view of the growing crowd as a man in a suit approached them. The Shadows did the same.

  “Selima Hammoudi, Yasir Alzubaidi,” Selima said. “We’ll be representing Mr. Lindemann.”

  “Not you two…” the man groaned. “All right, I just need to take his statement. He’s the only witness here.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Dieter said. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Yasir squeezed his good shoulder.

  “Our client is full of painkillers. He is not in any condition to answer questions. Maybe we can do this another time. Like when he’s not on painkillers,” he said.

  He raised his eyebrows and nodded.

  The Shadows hissed but it wasn’t at Yasir. The loomed over the officer, claws bared.

  “Look, I just need to know what happened.”

  “Great. He can tell you later,” Yasir said.

  Dieter rested against Selima. He was so tired. He just wanted to go back to sleep. His eyes scanned over the crowd and settled on a familiar face. The face was impossible to focus on, like it was blurred out. But it was only the one face. It was a face he knew, even with the blurriness. He looked over at one of his Shadows.

  “Follow him,” he mumbled.

  “What?” the officer asked. “Follow who.”

  There was a long list of appropriate responses. Dieter did not give a single one of them.

  “Look, I have two deaths on my hands and only one witness. I just need to know what happened. If he talks, we don’t need to drag him down to the station. Maybe leave him in interrogation until those painkillers wear off.”

  Yasir leant toward him.

  “Now, we both know he has to go to the hospital first. Then, he talks to you all you want,” he said. “I really don’t think you want to argue with me for this.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Dieter repeated.

  Selima hushed him.

  “You don’t have to talk. We’re taking our client to get medical attention. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s injured. He was stabbed. Remember?” Selima said.

  “It wasn’t me,” Dieter went on, even as Selima climbed into the ambulance next to him. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it. She came at me. I didn’t do anything. It was him.”

  Neither Selima nor Yasir responded.

  “Who was it?” Yasir asked.

  “It was Abaddon.”

  “From the Bible? I didn’t know you were religious.”

  “I’m not. He’s one of Alistair’s Shadows.”

  Selima and Yasir exchanged a look.

  “The man who taught you magic tried to kill you?” Selima asked.

  Dieter was quiet. Running the past afternoon through his mind made him dizzy. But that might have been the blood loss. He couldn’t face the fact that Steven was actually dead yet. It would hurt when it sank in but for now, he was numb.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe.”

  “Stay away from him. If he wants to hurt you, stay away from him.”

  Dieter nodded. He could stay away from Alistair. Getting close was the Shadows’ jobs.

  THIS WAS such a bad idea. It was a terrible, terrible idea and Dieter knew it. In fact, it was probably the worst idea he’d ever had in his entire life.

  His shoulder had finally healed enough that his arm didn’t need to be in a sling anymore. After weeks of being investigated, of having his entire life put under a microscope, it wa
s a relief not to be watched anymore. Still, sneaking out of the house was complicated. The Shadows might have hidden him from Lindy—key word being might—but Aldo still would have smelled him. The pit in his stomach made him wonder if getting caught would really be such a bad thing.

  He scribbled a quick note in case he didn’t make it home and stuck it to his laptop screen.

  The window was a tight fit, but he managed to get out without aggravating his shoulder. The Shadows hovering helped him climb down. His feet hit the ground with a soft thud. He closed his eyes, trying to get a visual on the missing Shadow following Alistair. It left him dizzy, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. Between being confined to a hospital and practically being under house arrest, courtesy of the witches in his life, he’d gotten a lot of practice.

  “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Dieter took a deep breath. He knew exactly where Alistair was, and it wasn’t far. The walk gave him time to think. All he could think about was the blood-soaked carpet in Steve Volson’s office. As much as he told himself that none of this was his fault, he knew it was. Alistair did this because of him. And maybe Alistair hadn’t meant to hurt him. Dieter didn’t have the best hold on his Shadows, maybe Alistair didn’t either. But Alistair had gone after Steven because of him. Selima and Yasir had promised that Mohr’s Circle would handle Alistair, but Mohr’s Circle wouldn’t understand the circumstances the way he did. It was on him to fix this.

  If Dieter was honest with himself, he had no idea what he was going to do to Alistair. Talk to him? Punch him? Right, because that wouldn’t end badly at all.

  The street was dark, the streetlights having flickered out weeks ago. His missing Shadow rushed to his side with a loud wail. And Dieter, shit, Dieter was actually concerned for it. He looked it over to make sure that Alistair hadn’t hurt it.

  “I feel like I should point out the irony of you following me after you made a big deal of me following you,” Alistair said.

  “I think this is a little different. You haven’t been answering my calls,” Dieter said.

  “Like you weren’t answering mine?”

  Okay, Alistair had him there. But it was way beyond the point.

  “I know what you did, Alistair. You got into her head. You made her kill him.”

  Alistair’s smile sent a shiver down Dieter’s spine. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to curl up between Yasir and Selima and pretend that none of this had ever happened. Pretend that he’d never met Alistair. But there was no going back now.

  “I had to,” Alistair said.

  “Why?” Dieter demanded. “Why did you have to kill him?”

  “Do you have any idea what he was doing to you? He was taking advantage of you! No-one else was going to stop him, so I had to. I was trying to protect you.”

  “I didn’t need your protection!”

  “You needed someone’s!”

  Dieter shook his head. His eyes filled with tears despite himself. Maybe Alistair wasn’t wrong. Maybe he did need someone to protect him. Fuck knew this wasn’t the first time he’d gotten sucked into having sex with someone much older than him. Normally, Lindy was doing the protecting. But he’d—somehow—managed to keep this one from her. Though maybe if he’d told her and she’d broken one of Steven’s ribs the way she had with his high school track coach, Steven would have called things off and Alistair wouldn’t have had to step in. And, God, he’d needed someone to step in just like he had with the track coach. Just like he had with the math teacher, just like he had with the English tutor. But like the idiot he was, he’d convinced himself that he could be in control with this one.

  Jeez, he was so stupid.

  “You didn’t have to kill him.”

  “Would you believe me if told you that I didn’t mean to?” Alistair asked.

  For a long few seconds, Dieter studied Alistair’s face. Every display of Alistair’s violent jealousy filled his mind. He shook his head slowly.

  “No. No, I wouldn’t.”

  The cold sneer that Alistair gave him made him realise that unless someone decided to check on him and found his note, there wasn’t a single person who knew that he was here. It would be hours before Lindy or Lenna decided to check on him. Except with the seals in place, they wouldn’’t be able to get into his room anyway. Shit, why hadn’t he thought of that sooner? Stupid, stupid, stupid! Even if he sent the Shadows to get someone, the only people who could see them were Selima and Yasir. It was an option, but one that would mean getting rid of his only means of defence. He couldn’t afford to lose even one of them.

  “I wanted to keep him away from you,” Alistair said.

  “You don’t own me.”

  “I made you!”

  Dieter flinched back. His Shadows hissed at Alistair, and Abigail and Abaddon hissed back. Alistair reached forward and grabbed his arm in an iron grip.

  “Don’t you get it, Dieter? You were nothing before you met me. You were a Sensitive who didn’t even know it. I made you what you are. I’m the one who made you the Shadow Maker.”

  Dieter wrenched his arm from Alistair’s grip and shoved him away.

  “I didn’t want to be this!” he cried. “I never–”

  He cut himself off mid-sentence. Something, one of the Shadows, passed in front of Alistair’s face, blurring it in a familiar way. Alistair’s words, ‘I made you,’ ran through his mind. A drink pushed into his hand, a face he couldn’t see. The blurriness hadn’t been from alcohol, it had been from them.

  “You… You did this to me. You turned me into this. You turned me into this!”

  The Shadows, fuelled by Dieter’s rage, threw themselves at Alistair. Alistair brushed them aside with a wave of his arm like they were nothing, like they didn’t shred through Dieter’s skin on a regular basis.

  “You think you can hurt me?” Alistair asked, his lips pulling over his teeth. “You’re nothing compared to me. I gave you every bit of power you have. And I can take it away just as easy.”

  “Try it.”

  Dieter regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. The sneer turned into a grin, and not one of the good ones. There was no way the training with Selima and Yasir would be enough to outdo the years that Alistair had on him.

  Alistair cracked his knuckles. Red lines ran through his fingers.

  “You don’t want me to do this to you, baby,” he said. “I will destroy you.”

  Dieter shook his head. All the hours they’d spent together, and this was what it was coming to. Bahir’s words from a lifetime ago came back to him.

  “No you won’t. You can try, but you won’t.”

  He hoped he sounded way more confident than he felt. Because he did not feel confident at all. He clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking.

  “Watch me, pretty boy.”

  In the time it took him to blink, Abigail was in his face. Her claws pressed to the fresh scar on his cheek. His Shadows tackled her away from him. With his eyes on them, he didn’t see Abaddon until it was too late. Despite the khamsa still around his neck, claws tore through his skin. Burns cauterised the cuts as soon as they formed.

  Dieter screamed, pulling back as far as he could. Heat pooled in his palms, the same heat that came when he was practising with Yasir. He grabbed Abaddon arm with both hands.

  A pained shriek tore through his eardrum. He wasn’t sure if his ear was actually bleeding or if he was just imagining it. But Abaddon retracted his claws and vanished.

  Dieter whirled around for him, keeping his hands charged, but he was nowhere in sight. He couldn’t find Abigail either. His Shadows buzzed around with agitated sounds. He couldn’t hear Abigail over them until her claws were digging into his throat. He grabbed for her, but she was off him before he could touch her.

  “You can’t fight me.”

  Dieter wiped the blood from his neck. He had no choice but to try. Alistair wasn’t going to let him walk away from this.

  “I’m sure by now you’ve heard
about my older sister, how she lost her fucking mind. You’ve seen my scars.”

  Dieter nodded. He’d almost managed to make himself forgot about it. It had never come up. But it was coming up now.

  “She was like you. She didn’t understand how good it is to have this kind of power. So she tried to send her spirits away. Don’t make me do the same to you.”

  A wail tore Dieter’s attention from Alistair. A sharp pain ran through his skull. When his vision cleared, he could see one of his Shadows missing an arm. He’d never considered caring about what happened to them. For months, he’d been dreaming of losing the Shadows. But God, he’d never imagined how much it would hurt. The second arm was torn off. Dieter doubled over.

  He forced himself to his feet, inhaling through clenched teeth. There had to be something he could do, anything. He’d never felt more useless in his life. Another arm was ripped off from another Shadow. He grabbed his own arm to make sure it was still there. At this point, he wasn’t sure where the Shadows ended and he started.

  Alistair pushed his hand through Dieter’s hair and stroked his cheek.

  “I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he said, his voice pleading. “I really loved you, Dieter. I thought you loved me too.”

  Dieter sobbed, unable to do anything else under the collective pain weighing his body down.

  The truth was that he had loved Alistair. He had loved Steven, too. He had also loved the math teacher and the track coach and the English tutor. Just like he’d loved Sandra and Yasir and Lenna and Selima and anyone else who had ever been sweet to him. He’d never been in control of a relationship in his life. It was always the desire to please and to keep being wanted that always won out. Even now, he wanted to apologise and let Alistair kiss him better.

  He wasn’t in control here any more than he’d been in control with anyone else. With only one wailing Shadow left, there was no way he would be. But he wanted to be. He wanted to be in control from now on. That wouldn’t happen if he just gave up and let Alistair win.

  Alistair pressed a kiss to Dieter’s forehead with a condescending, “Poor baby,” and that was more than Dieter was willing to take. He pressed his hand to Alistair’s face and put as much heat into it as he possibly could. The smell of burning flesh hit his nose before Alistair’s scream hit his ears. He hated hurting Alistair, he really did, but there was no other way out of this. A second hand curled around Alistair’s throat.