Something Wicked_A Witch Cozy Mystery Series

by Freya Darcy

  I peek around the trunk. How long would she be bound?

  It doesn’t matter. I crawl through the underbrush, careful to be quiet. But too soon I hear footsteps running in my direction.

  “Where are you?” She sounds out of breath. “Here, witchy witchy witchy.” She follows this with little kissing noises.

  I have to cover my mouth because I really have something to say.

  Crouching to the ground, I crawl behind another thick log. I can’t keep doing this. She’s going to keep coming until she gets me, if not here and now, later. Possibly while I’m asleep at home.

  I need to deal with Vanessa right here and right now or I will never feel safe again. Feeling in my pocket, I find the vial of salt. But what good is it? I only really know two spells and I don’t have very good control over either.

  Logic, Kismet, logic. If I create a fire while I’m fighting for my life, I might very well burn the whole forest down. And if I make it rain we’ll be fighting to the death in cold wet clothing.

  Jumping to my feet, I pull the vial and sprinkle the salt around me. Summoning the circle is effortless and I can’t help wondering if it has something to do with my fear or the sounds and smells of the woods around me. Somehow the whole process just feels so natural out here.

  A laugh makes me turn. Vanessa is maybe a metre away.

  “Ooh, the noob summoned a circle.” Vanessa switches the knife from one hand to the other and back again. “What are you going to do?”

  My smile spreads across my face as I feel my power gathering, pulsing through my entire body. “I’m going to make it rain.”

  My hand shoots into the air and the word screams from my lungs. A second later lightning arcs across the sky and it opens up with a CRACK of thunder. The rain is so hard I need to cover my head and we’re both drenched in seconds.

  “Great plan genius!” Vanessa has to yell to be heard over the downpour and rumbling roaring thunder. “You’re going to drown us both.”

  She’s still holding the knife and inches forward a step, trying not to slip and pushing against the relentless wind and rain.

  I grit my teeth, watching her get closer. As impressive as my spell might look, it really wasn’t a deterrent against a magic knife wielding witch.

  I call the wind, remembering the way it had felt my first night here. It was like the rain was being thrown at me by the wind. I visualise the same happening to Vanessa, only it’s me throwing great balls of wind and rain at her.

  I raise my hand, imagine my magic is a balloon and fill it with wind and rain, then with a yell I throw it at her. The force throws her back. I throw another, and another, but she lowers her head, curls her body and shoves forward.

  I’m using too much magic. Draining myself, but if I can’t hold her back, I’m dead.

  Maybe I can make a weapon too. She summoned the knife with her magic, maybe I can do that.

  Never taking my eyes off her as she slowly, carefully closes in, I try to visualize the feel of a knife or maybe an axe. Something bigger with more reach.

  I feel it again, my power stretching and rejoicing in the act of being set free. With a cry of triumph, I reach into my pocket and pull out a sword.

  It’s longer than her knife and I get a rush of satisfaction when she backs up a step, her expression a little scared.

  I let out a breath and calm the storm before saying, “I don’t want to hurt you. But I’m going to call Detective Jameson now.”

  “You think that sword scares me?”

  I hold it out in front of me, the blade glistening between us. “It should,” I say but watch in horror as the blade crumbles and the sword disintegrates right before my eyes.

  Vanessa laughs so hard her head actually falls back. “You can’t just summon a weapon,” she sneers. “It takes hours of preparation to create something like this.” She holds up her knife and lets it glint in the newly uncovered moonlight.

  I feel around in my pocket for something anything. Damn! Why couldn’t I have made a sleep potion or something useful.

  Just then, my fingers brush over something small and rectangular. The date knife!

  I pull it out and press the button. The blade flicks out, but Vanessa isn’t as threatened as I’d hoped.

  “Are you kidding?” she laughs. “What are you going to do? You can’t even get close enough to use that silly little—” She screams when I slice at her and catch her wrist with the sharp blade.

  It’s no mortal injury but...

  My head starts spinning. I can feel the last of my magic draining out. No. Not now. Why did I create that stupid storm?

  I know why. I wanted to intimidate her. I wanted her to see that I was powerful too. And now I’m about to pass out from using too much magic. Jaz’s warning mocks me and I can’t believe I was so stupid.

  “What’s the matter, little witch?” Vanessa sing-songs at me, bringing the knife up so I can get a really good look.

  Swearing under my breath, I grope for the tree behind me to keep my balance.

  “It’s a shame, really it is,” she simpers. “Already you have so much potential. We could have been good friends.”

  My laugh sounds weak, but I don’t look away from her. “I’d rather you just kill me now.”

  “Fine! I was going to do that anyway.”

  She comes towards me with a childlike giggle that makes me cringe. But she stops. Frowns. Looks around.

  The giggle comes again, this time from another direction. It wasn’t Vanessa.

  “Oh dear,” I say.

  A boy, no older than five or six steps out from behind a tree. Then a girl steps out, another boy, a girl, a girl, and a boy. All of them wear matching white pyjamas that seem luminescent in the moonlight.

  “Do you want to play?” The little boy asks Vanessa.

  Vanessa lowers the knife, looking from me to the children. “What?”

  “We like to play and sometimes sing songs.”

  Two of the girls and one of the boys skip around and around Vanessa singing, “Ring a ring a rosy, a pocket full of posy.”

  “Stop that!” Vanessa says. “Go home all of you.”

  “We are home,” the boy says, then looks over his shoulder at me before saying, “We saw you playing with our Aunty Kizz.”

  “But you weren’t playing fair,” the little girl says with a frown. “You were being mean.”

  “We don’t like mean people,” another girl says, and five more children step out from the shadows.

  “What the hell?” Vanessa backs away.

  I let out a breathless laugh. “Say hello to my little friends.”

  Vanessa rolls her eyes. “You have got to be...”

  All fifteen ghoul children smile up at her, showing her their shiny white teeth. Tiny and razor sharp.

  Vanessa screams. She slashes her knife at them but they’re smaller, faster. The tiny ghouls swam around her like piranhas in a frenzy.

  I can’t watch. Turning my back, I retrace my path to where I think my car should still be waiting.

  Somewhere behind me, I can hear Vanessa screaming until I can’t anymore. I refuse to feel any sympathy. She could have dropped the knife. She could have asked for help. But she didn’t.

  Another wave of dizziness stops me and I lean against the trunk of a tall pine.

  “Kizz?” A familiar voice calls from up ahead. “Kismet?”

  I almost laugh. Frankie.

  “I’m here,” I call out because I want to run towards her voice but my head keeps spinning.

  “Kismet!” She lets out a relieved laugh and runs down the hill.

  Her short spiky blond hair and pretty heart shaped face is the single best thing I’ve ever seen.

  “You scared the hell out of me, so I was driving up to see you when I saw your car abandoned on the side of the road!” She grabs my shoulders but I hold up a hand.

  “If you shake me right now, I will throw up.”

  Chapter Twenty

  AFTER T
HE EVENTS OF the night Vanessa disappeared, Frankie agreed to stay a few extra days and in exchange, I told her everything.

  She’s met Jaz, she’s drooled over Jack the handyman, she’s seen my secret attic, she’s argued with the house. She hasn’t come into her own magic yet, I admit to having no idea how any of that works, but it’s good to have a friend, other than Jaz, who I don’t need to lie to.

  Payton and Derick are another story. I adore them both, but trust the with something like the secret of magic? I don’t think they’re ready.

  We never did find out about the black car, but Connor agreed to have his boys keep a look out. I’m not sure how I feel about owing the leader of the Dingo boys yet another favour.

  “I’m still not sure about this whole séance thing,” I say even as Payton sets down the Ouija board in the middle of the table.

  “Come on, Kizzy,” Frankie laughs. “It’s not like you even believe in this stuff. It’s just a bit of fun.”

  “Ooh...” Derick moans. “Is Kismet scared? Ooh!” He dances around me making the most annoying ghost sounds you can imagine.

  Finally, I grab his shirt. “The choice is yours,” I say sweetly. “You can either stop doing that or become one of the ghosts.”

  “That depends, could I be one of those sexy ghosts who haunt the chambers of brides to be?”

  I let go, making a disgusted sound. “I’m going to make it my life’s mission to keep you alive forever.”

  “You’re mean,” he pouts and hands me the candles he’d fetched from the cupboard.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Malcom.

  STILL ON FOR COFFEE TOMORROW?

  I smile and reply with a definite, yes. It’s the least I can do.

  When Frankie had seen my car abandoned by the side of the road, she’d called the police before coming for me.

  Detective Malcom Jameson had come immediately and when I told my story, that Vanessa had hidden in the back seat of my car before chasing me into the woods with a knife, he’d believed me. He’d given me a major dressing down for not checking the back seat, but I can take that.

  It didn’t hurt that when Malcom obtained a search warrant for the house Vanessa shared with her devout catholic mother, he found her secret basement. He refused to tell me much, but from what he did say, that basement was some kind of death shrine to Meghan. There were pictures of her on the walls as well as a lot of creepy occult stuff including what looked like animal sacrifices.

  “Alright.” Payton claps her hands to get our attention. “Are we ready?”

  There’s a chorus of, “Yes, sir!” Before we all take our seats and she turns off the lights so the room is lit by only flickering candle flames.

  “I don’t mean to nit-pick,” I say placing my two fingers on the planchette. “But isn’t the whole point to be able to see the letters?”

  “Shush, you.” Derick shoves my shoulder with his own. “You’ll spoil the magic.”

  “Yeah,” Frankie chimes in, sitting a little closer to Derick than necessary. “Stop spoiling the magic, Kismet.”

  “Fine, but if we all go blind, you know whose fault it is.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Frankie says as Payton finally joins us at the table. “Ghosts don’t make you blind. That’s just a myth to stop teenagers trying to have sex with them.”

  We’re all laughing too hard to take this seriously, but soon enough the room settles and we each lay our two fingers on the Planchette again.

  Jaz, in cat form for my guests, winds in and out between our legs, meowing every now and again.

  Leaning down, I give the top of her head a scratch and whisper, “Thank you.”

  “You owe me one,” she whispers back.

  I sit back up and place my fingers again.

  “Are we ready?” Payton asks and we all nod. “Spirits!” she calls out in a loud dramatic tone. “If there is a spirit within this house who wishes to communicate. We beg that you come forth.”

  Nothing.

  “Do you have a message for anyone in this house?” She tries again.

  Nothing.

  I feel a nudge against my leg and look down to see Jaz, butting me.

  Rolling my eyes, I speak up. “If there is anyone in the house with a message for us, please feel free to communicate. I – welcome your – communication.” I have no idea what I’m saying.

  But almost immediately the planchette starts to feel warmer, then it starts to wobble slightly. When it springs to life we all let out a cry of shock as we watch the planchette moving from letter to letter almost too fast to follow.

  B – E – W – A – R - E

  T – H – E

  M – O – O – N

  Somewhere outside there’s a mournful howl from the woods.

  About the Author

  FREYA DARCY IS A FREE-spirited author from Australia, the country that brings you deadly spiders, snakes, and sharks that bite the heads off alligators.

  She is often accused of seeing the funny side a bit too often, but she likes to think that she just prefers to see the silly in all of us. She loves mysteries and grew up reading Agatha Christie, Stephen King, and Janet Evanovich, which actually explains a lot about her state of mind now as an adult ;)

  If you enjoyed this book and would like an update when the next witchy mystery is out, sign up to her mailing list. She promises to NEVER spam you and only send out an email when she has a new book or deal available.

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