Invoking the Witch (The Faction Series Book 1)

by Lindsey Jayne

  But I couldn’t run from it. It would catch up with me and knock me down flat on my face if I ignored it.

  I resumed our conversation, “What makes you think these witches are after you now?” I tore my eyes away from the lamp, half-dreading Belinda’s response when the colour drained from her face and her body sagged.

  She stole her gaze away from mine as tears slipped down her face. “The other three women; my friends, they’re all dead now.”

  Chapter 14

  Amelia came up empty at the station; a search on Belinda uncovered no known relatives. A senile grandma proved to be the only remaining family of Ivy and Madison Rose, and she resided in a nursing home for Alzheimer’s sufferers—a phone call to the establishment provided Amelia with no further information.

  Putting her elbows on her desk and her forehead in her hands, she let out an exasperated sigh before her door burst open, and her intruder waltzed into her office, unannounced and uninvited.

  In a deep, brusque voice DCS Thomas Riley asked, “Ellis, what’s the latest?”

  Running her hands through her hair, she looked up at the imposing, bulky figure of her boss. He would be perfect in some Hell’s Angels gang, with his bald head and trimmed, grey flecked, brown beard. His pale blue eyes bore into her while he waited for an answer.

  She kept her answer brief and to the point, “Three murders. Two missing, potential witnesses and one potential suspect. Though she may be ruled out tod—”

  “How so?” he interrupted.

  Riley would have this information, but the expectant look across his face told Amelia he edged to find out what she knew, but more importantly, he wanted her take on it.

  “Laila Farris’s car was outside a witness’s house and disappeared after we were attacked and the intruder fled. Next thing we know, Farris reports her car stolen and, pardon my bluntness sir, but that smells like a crock of shit to me.”

  “So, what are you doing about it?”

  “Chapman and Roberts are round there now to get all the details, and question her whereabouts for all three murders.”

  “Do we have a timeframe for these murders?”

  “T.O.D suggests it happened within hours of the bodies being discovered, sir.”

  “What are you left with if Farris’s story adds up?”

  “Two missing witnesses we’re doing everything to locate.” Amelia’s mobile rang at that moment—the Compound. She answered it without an apology to her boss.

  “DCI Ellis… Hello, Wendy… Yes… WHAT?! … I’ll be right over.”

  “Good news, I hope?” Thomas raised a brow.

  “One of the witnesses, Belinda Larkin, she’s just turned up at the Compound.”

  Amelia didn’t give Thomas chance to say another word; she grabbed her jacket and flew out of her office.

  ∾∾∾

  Flooring her car, Amelia made it to the Compound in record time and slammed the brakes on outside the building. She grabbed her files and exited the car. Using her newly acquired ID pass, she entered through the main gates.

  Affording Wendy a quick wave, Amelia all but fell into the elevator. She tapped her foot, files clutched against her chest as she drummed her fingers on her crossed arms. A knot built in her stomach at the anticipation of finally getting a lead on this case.

  She didn’t wait for the elevator doors to open all the way before she ambled out and into the large living room.

  A subdued atmosphere welcomed Amelia into the darkened living space—the blinds drawn against the penetration of natural light. Hushed voices were emphasised by the lack of music, but they died down when Amelia walked in.

  Lucas stood by the fireplace and Nate sat on one of the sofas. Elora sat opposite with Belinda—Amelia assumed—beside her.

  She wondered about Elora’s presence for a moment.

  “Hey, beautiful.” Nate smiled at her, oozing his usual charm.

  She forced a smile back, but avoided any small talk, eager to find out what transpired during her absence. She directed her gaze straight at Lucas in an effort to get him to start talking.

  He held a hand out to the stranger, “Amelia, this is Belinda Larkin.”

  Glancing over, she noted the young, tired, pale woman. Her deep purple hair did nothing for her pallor, nor the dark circles under her eyes. The quick introduction out the way, Amelia sat and took the lead.

  “Hi, Belinda, I’m Amelia. Can you tell me where you’ve been since you contacted us?”

  Belinda shifted her gaze to Elora, who in turn offered a reassuring nod.

  “I’ve been using the cover of the woods to make my way here.”

  Amelia nodded with a gentle smile. “You said you think you’re the next target?” She continued after Belinda’s quick nod, “Can I ask why you think that?”

  Belinda proceeded to tell Amelia about her time in Cassandra’s mansion and the gathering of her and her friends elsewhere. She described the witches best she could, telling the DCI about the rituals and the pregnancies. Amelia listened, while Nate scribbled down notes beside her.

  “Belinda, can you tell me the names of the other three women.”

  “Yeah. Morgan, Gillian, and Ivy.”

  “And how did you know the other witches had been murdered?”

  Belinda dropped her sheepish gaze to the floor. “I had a premonition of their deaths.”

  Elora looked at Belinda with wide eyes.

  Amelia didn’t say anything straight away. From experience, Belinda’s submissive body language told her she kept something back. Guilt marred her face. Her eyes said as much when she squeezed them closed.

  Opening them, she told Amelia, “I saw it happen before it did, and I did nothing to stop it,” before she burst into tears.

  Ellie put an arm around her shoulder and held her close.

  Amelia felt sorry for this woman—the ordeal she must’ve gone through didn’t bare thinking about, and given the state of the crime scenes, Amelia awarded her credit for having held it together this long.

  “Do you think there was anything you could’ve done?” she asked Belinda in a gentle tone.

  Belinda’s crying subsided to quivering sniffles while she composed herself. “I could’ve warned them. I could’ve warned you sooner.”

  “Can you describe to me what you saw in your visions?”

  “My dreams aren’t always clear. I-I saw people with milk-white eyes, in brown robes hovering above me. Blood dripped down their chins.” Her voice lowered to a sobbing whimper while her body shook. “M-my wrists and ankles began to burn and I tried to move them, but I couldn’t… I just couldn’t.

  “When I opened my mouth to scream, nothing came out. One of the… one of them, they sliced my stomach open with a knife and took my baby from me, while I died on the cold floor of some dirty warehouse.”

  Elora let out a gasp and her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widened. Having witnessed the terror first-hand, Amelia understood her shock at the brutality.

  “You couldn’t have done anything, Belinda. To you, it probably seemed like a nightmare you were having. How could you possibly have known?”

  Belinda’s cries grew louder and she shook her head. “I-I knew… I knew something was wrong. I’ve had visions before. I can feel and sense things I shouldn’t be able to. I could’ve stopped this.”

  No blame lay with Belinda, but Amelia felt her anguish. The images—the horror, the pain, the fear—made the guilt understandable.

  “There was no way for you to know who you were dreaming about, Belinda.”

  “I still should’ve known… .” Belinda broke off into uncontrollable sobs, the rest of her words incoherent.

  Elora, paling visibly, clasped her tighter and pulled her in, trying to soothe away the pain. Amelia didn’t know what else to say to the inconsolable witch.

  Belinda’s crying abated when she looked back at Amelia. “I should’ve known better when I had my second vision.”

  ∾∾∾

  It di
dn’t matter how many times Amelia told Belinda not to blame herself, the woman wouldn’t listen.

  She described her second premonition—a similar death, the outright fear of the victim, the house, the room, the moment the murderer approached her with a knife. Amelia asked her to describe the knife, and she explained it looked to be made from bone, with a corked handle and feathers around the hilt.

  During the description, Lucas noticed Elora’s face drain of whatever colour remained. She excused herself when Belinda’s described dreaming of a clearing in a storm-riddled forest.

  He harboured his own thoughts for why Elora turned a ghastly shade of white before she bolted—he could sense the emotions pouring from her and they weren’t just from shock—fear radiated from her in droves.

  A few moments of silence followed before Belinda pulled herself together. Elora walked back into the room looking gaunt and full of anguish. She shuffled back to the sofa and sat. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone, but stared at the floor with her hands fisted in her lap. Lucas noted her red-rimmed, puffy eyes.

  Letting his suspicions subside for the moment, he listened while Nate went to fetch water and tissues.

  Amelia continued to question Belinda. “Belinda, can you tell us a bit about Cassandra. What she was like, how she treated you, that sort of thing?”

  Belinda thanked Nate for the tissue and dabbed it around her moist eyes. “To start with, she was lovely, she made me feel like I wasn’t… different. When I found out about my condition, I was beside myself with grief. For months I moped around not really living, just existing, until a card got pushed through my door one day. A support group for infertility. I’d been praying to the Goddesses for a sign and that was it.

  “I went to the group the next night. I met Serena there; she belonged to Cassandra’s coven and told me chemotherapy left her infertile. She seemed so nice and understanding, said she had hope. I asked her if the support group gave her that hope, but she told me it was Cassandra.

  “Serena told me that within months of meeting Cassandra, she had fallen pregnant—even showed me pictures of her baby. So, I asked her why she still came and she said to give courage and faith to other young witches like me.”

  “And so, you went to see Cassandra?” Amelia urged with a sympathetic tone.

  “Not right away, I was sceptical, at first. It took me another couple of weeks of therapy until I decided I was strong enough to meet her. I’d been too scared to dream in case it didn’t work. If that happened, I wouldn’t have been able to cope. But I knew just talking about my feelings in group wasn’t going to get me what I wanted, so I told Serena to take me to Cassandra.

  “She took me to a big, gothic mansion where Cassandra introduced herself to me. She was warm and friendly, and she didn’t show me pity like everyone else. She told me she wanted to help, if it was what I wanted. I wanted it so badly, I almost begged her on the spot.”

  Belinda paused again to wipe more tears from her eyes with her crumbling tissue.

  Amelia gave her another. “Take your time, Belinda. When you’re ready, tell us what happened after you joined Cassandra’s coven.”

  The witch shifted and straightened her back. After a deep breath, she continued, “It was strange. It wasn’t like most covens I know of.”

  “How do you mean?” Amelia leaned forward and placed her arms on her legs, intertwining her fingers.

  “Well, a coven is usually made up of around thirteen witches, although that number isn’t as significant this day and age. But usually you have your High Priestess, then you would usually have a High Priest, a Summoner and a Handmaiden. Cassandra never introduced the other witches present as any of those, so to be missing those people seemed odd to me.”

  “I suspect she wasn’t offering you a position in a coven, Belinda. She was using other black witches to form a cult of sorts, in order for her to fulfil her purpose.”

  “What purpose?”

  “We think she’s trying to raise Lilith,” Nate interjected, before Amelia could reply.

  The DCI rolled her eyes at him.

  “Lilith? That’s ridiculous. Lilith is just a myth, how can they possibly think they can kill children to raise someone who doesn’t exist.” Belinda’s voice took on an angry inflection and her brow creased.

  “They seem to have a different perspective, and they’re sacrificing babies in order to reach their goal.”

  “Jesus.” Belinda breathed out. “I thought they were crazy, but I didn’t think they were that crazy.”

  “What do you mean?” Amelia asked.

  “During what they classed as ‘prayers’, they would stand naked in a circle, chanting, and expect us to do the same. They cut themselves and bled into this horrific looking chalice carved from bone. We all had to drink from it.”

  Nate gagged. “That’s disgusting. Has no one ever heard of Hep C?! Or even Aids for that matter.”

  Amelia glared at him, a rigid look saying ‘shut the hell up’, which he promptly did.

  “I can’t describe it any better than by saying my body didn’t feel like I had control over it. I could see what they were doing and I could register my own revulsion, but I couldn’t stop myself from taking part in the rituals. Cassandra promised it was all necessary for us to fall pregnant; for her remedy to eventually work.”

  “So, she hadn’t given you the remedy at that point?” Amelia inquired.

  “Not when all that first began. But even after she gave it us, we still had to drink each other’s blood.”

  “What was in the remedy she gave you?”

  “I don’t know, but it tasted of a mixture of things. It was sweet and flowery, but it also tasted quite earthy as well, and it was thick and oily.”

  “Sounds delicious.” Nate’s lips dipped at the corners in a grimace.

  “I wasn’t concerned with the taste if it meant I would get pregnant.” Bitterness laced Belinda’s tone. She stared at Nate, who avoided her gaze, looking somewhat ashamed for his unnecessary comment.

  “What happened next, Belinda?” Amelia cast Nate another knitted glance that could turn any normal person to stone.

  “That went on for a couple of weeks. We kept up with the prayers, the blood drinking and some other ritual Cassandra said would aid fertility. After those weeks, the three of us fell pregnant within days of one another. We couldn’t believe it.” Belinda smiled for a brief moment, stroking her belly.

  Placing his arms on his knees, Nate clasped his hands in front of him. “What happened between that time and the time the first victim was murdered?”

  “Morgan. Your first victim was Morgan.” Belinda sighed before continuing, “Things were still the same. We still had to drink the remedy on a daily basis, we still chanted naked and drank blood, although not as often. I found it strange we didn’t practice magic like I expected we would. Morgan, Gillian, Ivy and I sometimes stayed at Cassandra’s, but we’d often get together ourselves and practice. Usually when no one else was around.”

  “Ivy was found at her home, but Morgan and Gillian were found elsewhere. Why was that?” Amelia quizzed.

  Belinda paused and swallowed hard. “When we weren’t at Cassandra’s we stayed in touch with one another. We would meet up in abandoned warehouses to practice and pray. It was easier to go there from our homes after we started getting bigger. But Ivy struggled to get around after a while, so we stopped until after we… until we gave birth.”

  Amelia handed Belinda another tissue when fresh streams trailed down her face. “Where does Cassandra live?” She slipped her hand to Belinda’s knee.

  Between sniffles, Belinda replied, “Somewhere outside of Simonstone. A place called Huntroyde Hall, I think.”

  Elora stifled another gasp and Lucas saw her eyes widen when she left out a long breath. She turned ashen and swallowed hard.

  Nate resumed his straight posture. “How did Cassandra take it when you started congregating without them?”

  “I don’t know. She
never actually came right out and said she knew we did it, but I suspected she did. She became a little more distant from us, as did the others, but we thought nothing of it. We were quite content to do what we were doing, and happy to be away from what… they were doing.”

  “You said there were three others aside from Cassandra and Serena, do you know their names?” Amelia chimed back in.

  “I know the other two, but the third didn’t really have much to do with us, and we weren’t introduced to her. She passed around the chalice and knives, but I never saw her partake in any of it other than to drink from the strange looking cup, then she’d leave.”

  “What were their names?” Amelia sucked in a breath and held it.

  Belinda thought for a moment, eyes focused on a spot near the fire, “Serena Dobson, Keira Hoult and Laila Farris.”

  Chapter 15

  Belinda answered Amelia and Nate’s questions best she could, but while I hoped she could help, I needed to get away; her revelations floored me.

  The first mention of her dream had me running from the room to be sick. I know Lucas noticed my sudden departure, and not for the reasons the others must’ve thought. The moment Belinda finished her story, I bolted back to my room and locked myself in.

  My emotions tore through me – part of me knew I should voice my opinion; it’s too much of coincidence. The police needed to catch this killer. Lives were in danger, and innocent ones had already been lost. But what I happened to be wrong? I couldn’t make sense of any connection between Daniel and Cassandra, what if the knife and the mansion meant nothing even close. I could be condemning an innocent man.

  I scoffed at my own musings. Daniel was hardly an innocent man.

  Pacing the bedroom once again, I stilled. I sensed a presence outside the door—I felt the hesitation, the trepidation, as though they were my own emotions.

  Deciding to face this head on, I didn’t wait for a knock; I opened the door to find Lucas staring at me. His jaw-length, dark hair fell around his handsome, firm-set face, but he didn’t look angry, just… expectant.

  I stepped aside and he entered the room, turning to look at me. Standing rigid, his muscles rippled through his black shirt when he clasped his hands behind his back. His glare unnerved me. I shied away, but I knew I couldn’t keep him waiting.