Loch Nessa

by Clare Kauter

  LOCH NESSA

  DAMNED GIRL BOOK 4

  CLARE KAUTER

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Hey there, lovely reader!

  Have you joined the Readers’ Group yet?

  Also by Clare Kauter

  About the Author

  What now?

  Losing Your Head

  Copyright © 2017 by Clare Kauter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover created with help from Brusheezy.com.

  This book is dedicated to my favourite freshwater detective, Jeremy Wade, without whom I would never have thought to write a book about the monsters in the deep.

  CHAPTER 1

  STRANGE CRIES and howls carried through the forest as I made my way along the winding path, the smell of eucalyptus in the air. A kookaburra’s laugh rang in my ears, but I chose to believe it was a coincidence rather than some sort of omen of what was going to happen to me tonight. This was the right decision, and everything would be fine. No reason for the bird to rejoice in my misery. I was at least ninety percent sure of that.

  As I trudged along the narrow gravel trail, a breeze hit me, picking up the hem of my robes and chilling my ankles as it passed. I pulled my cloak tighter around myself. The afternoon sun filtered in through the trees as they swayed in the wind, casting dancing shadows on the forest floor. Of course, there were always shadowy figures flitting about in these woods, no matter the time of day.

  Most magical folk wouldn’t advise that you go wandering through the Black Forest alone at dusk, especially this close to a full moon. I, however, was not most magical folk. To be clear, I still wouldn’t advise that you do this – werewolves and vampires, anyone? – but given my track record with self defence, I figured I was probably safe. Even so, I’d taken precautions – I’d eaten a garlic-heavy dinner to scare off the toothier denizens of the forest, and I’d garnished it with coriander since most magical creatures couldn’t stand the smell. In addition to that, I had protective amulets hanging from my neck and a couple of basic wards cast around me. I was all kitted out. Even with the full moon only a few nights away, I figured I’d be safe.

  Just as long as a certain vampire wasn’t out prowling this evening.

  Ideally, I wouldn’t have been out of my house at all. I would have much preferred to be at home, pigging out on chocolate cake and wondering how long I had before I was arrested. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much of a choice – something I’d been finding a lot since The Department decided to get involved with my life. Although I’d completed three quests now, they’d managed to find technicalities each time that prevented me from getting my licence. Just little things, really… Like accidentally helping a murderer steal a sacred magical stone, or making out with my examiner, or having my other examiner, ahem, mysteriously ‘go missing’. Nothing major.

  Finally, however, it seemed that I’d found a workaround. That was why I was out in the forest at this time – I was about to get my licence. I was going to be able to get back to living my life, eking out a meagre living as a medium. Before the government stepped in, I’d made my money talking to ghosts for non-magicals, but since these quests had started and I’d been dragged away from my shack most days, I hadn’t made any money at all. My pockets were growing decidedly empty. If I didn’t get my licence soon, I wasn’t going to be able to make an honest living. And if I couldn’t make an honest living, I was going to have to resort to a dishonest one.

  The forest grew darker as the sun fell behind a cloud. Or maybe it was falling below the horizon. Was it that late already? I picked up my pace. The air grew chilly as soon as the sunlight was gone. It was autumn now, and it was starting to get cold. Were I in a forest elsewhere in the world, the trees might have begun to shed their leaves. Here amongst the gum-trees, though, the leaves stayed on all year, and the only sign of the approaching winter was the cool chill in the air.

  I pulled my scarf tighter around myself and wished, not for the first time, that I could afford a good quality magic carpet or broom. The forest was too thick and the path too narrow for most cars, but some form of transport other than my feet would have been nice. Of course, I could always get a bicycle, but the very thought of it made me shudder. I’d tried exercise before – mostly when running away from people and/or creatures who wanted to kill me – and I didn’t much care for it. No, if I was going to upgrade my mode of transportation, it was going to be something magical. The only bike I would consider was an enchanted motorbike like the one in Harry Potter. Now, that would be travelling in style.

  As the breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, I was glad I had at least one witchy accessory on my person, even if I didn’t have a broom – my thick, heavy robes were doing a decent job of keeping me warm despite the dropping temperature. The trees began to thin a little and I knew I wasn’t far away from my destination now. I was heading for a building right on the edge of the forest and I could already see the glow of the lights of the building through the trees. With any luck, I could make it before the forest grew completely dark. I hurried along the path that led out of the Black Forest and turned left, heading towards the church. I’d been here before, and I was going to be coming here a lot more often from now on. After all, this was where my new coven gathered.

  The Green Wattle witches had been trying to get me to join their coven ever since I’d moved into my shack by the cemetery on the other side of the forest. The old crones they’d sent out to recruit me, however, had been slightly insane and I’d found them inside my house on various occasions until I’d finally found a way to repel them. Then when I began my first quest, I met the head witch, Dawn Witch Hecate, and her Lieutenant, Daisy, who unlike the other witches I’d met were actually kind of badarse (although as time went on I was beginning to think they were just as insane as the original witches I’d met).

  Daisy was a faery as well as a witch, and my guess would be that there were a few other magicals mixed in with the humans in the coven. Unlike other magical arts, witchcraft was something you could learn rather than something you were born with. Some humans had a natural propensity for casting despite being non-magical, whereas others had no aptitude for spells and had to make do with potions and talismans. Whatever their magical skill level, though, anyone could become a witch.

  They had presumably been trying to recruit me because of my ability to talk to the dead. I was human (as far as I knew), but I did have some magical talent. If ‘talent’ was the right word for it. I hadn’t wanted to join the coven, but Daisy had promised me that if I did, I could finally leave The Department behind me. She hadn’t told me exactly how one went about joining the coven, but I was hoping for some sort of written exam. Hell, even a practical exam would be OK. Anything would be an improvement on my previous quests just as long as I didn’t have to solve – or perform – a murder
.

  A couple of months ago I wouldn’t have even considered joining the coven, but right now it didn’t seem like I had a choice. Without contacting spirits, I had no source of income and my savings had dropped out of double digits long ago. Right now I had twelve cents to my name, which was not a fun place to be. For someone who was supposedly a ‘king’ of some sort, I certainly didn’t have kingly riches, and seeing as I’d been interning in Hell for so long without anyone to look after my vegetable garden, I didn’t have any food growing whatsoever. For the past month I’d been living on rations of chocolate cake, a jar of olives I found in the back of my cupboard, one box of dry crackers, a bottle of olive oil and a bag of frozen corn. Even though it was kind of inconvenient for me to go to the church every night, there were always sandwiches and cakes provided so at the very least it would save me money on groceries.

  The church was small, a building long abandoned by God’s faithful. Once upon a time it had served local farmers and their families, but that time had long since passed. Really, a church built in ‘Hellfire Shire’ was always doomed to failure. The veil between Hell and earth was particularly thin here, and all manner of magical and unholy beast roamed the forest right next to the little building. That wasn’t to mention the nearby Gladesta Caves, which were the constant source of a turf war between vampires, werewolves, goblins, orcs, gorcs (goblin-orc hybrids) and plenty of other unsavoury creatures of the night.

  Now the building had been taken over by witches, an act that presumably delighted the man upstairs, Mr ‘Thou Shalt Not Suffer A Witch To Live’. Of course, he had all sorts of odd ideas that very few people, magical or otherwise, took seriously. The vast majority of witches performed light magic – the good kind, drawn from nature, that was all about helping people – and still, the big guy somehow had a problem with that. (Satan also had a problem with that, but only because she felt that by performing only light magic, witches weren’t living up to their full potential.)

  The church was the size of a small cottage – even in its heyday, the congregation hadn’t been anything to rave about. It had simple, high windows; no fancy stained glass for this building. I stood out the front for a moment before entering, wondering whether this was really a good idea. I concluded that it wasn’t, but unfortunately no better options had come to me over the past week while I’d been contemplating Daisy’s offer. It was coven and perform magic or no coven and starve.

  I sighed, rolled my eyes at the universe and trudged towards the church doors, accepting my fate. No two ways about it: I was about to become a witch.

  CHAPTER 2

  I WALKED up the steps and entered the church through the open wooden doors. Inside, the few remaining pews were pushed to the back of the room, and where the holy man would previously have stood to deliver his sermons, there was a large cauldron bubbling away over a fire. I wondered what was brewing – a love potion to be bottled and sold at Hecate’s café/bookstore/general witchy goods emporium? An antidote to a poison of some variety to be bottled and kept for emergencies? Something to increase the witches’ strength before casting? I craned my neck to get a better look at it, but from here it just looked like split pea soup.

  The church was lit by candles which were scattered all over the room, on floors and windowsills and any other available surfaces. It was a disaster waiting to happen, but I didn’t bother pointing that out – the witches weren’t going to change their ways for OH&S reasons. Not when there were aesthetics at stake.

  To my left there was a table filled with plates of cucumber sandwiches and various cakes and slices as well as coffee and tea making supplies. Naturally, that is where I headed first – I wasn’t lying about only having twelve cents to my name. Right now, those cucumber sandwiches looked like a feast fit for a king. Ha. A king. I rolled my eyes at myself and picked up a sandwich triangle in each hand, too hungry to worry about looking greedy. As I munched away, I continued to survey the room.

  The walls were lined with a cacophony of shelves topped with various herbs, crystals and potion-and spell-making supplies. There were stacks of candles, boxes upon boxes of incense and vials containing various unlabelled liquids piled higgledy-piggledy in the wooden cabinets, looking like they might tumble to the floor at any moment. I didn’t know what was contained in those vials and jars, but I doubted it would be anything particularly interesting. As I said, these witches mostly performed light magic, the soft, nature-worshipping, tree-hugging kind of magic. Not really my thing, but it wasn’t like I had much of a choice about what kind of coven to join. My natural leaning was definitely not towards nice, helpful magic (it lent itself more to murder and necromancy), but I would do what I could.

  A witch noticed me standing at the food table and came over to greet me. I didn’t know the names of a lot of the witches here – Hecate and Daisy were really the only ones I’d ever had much to do with beyond the crazy recruitment team that had been pestering me for years. Still, since now I was in the coven and we were all ‘sisters’ I supposed I would have to learn their names and at least pretend I liked them.

  After hobbling over to me, the witch introduced herself as Maude. I recognised her as one of the witches I’d had to chase out of my kitchen on a couple of occasions. I tried not to groan aloud when I realised she was planning to start a conversation with me. Couldn’t she see I was busy carb loading?

  “I always knew you’d join us eventually,” croaked Maude. “A witch can’t live without her coven.”

  I bit back the many things I wanted to say and gave Maude a tight smile. “Murph,” I mumbled through my mouthful of bread. Unfortunately, Maude seemed to take this as an indication that I wanted her to keep speaking.

  “You must be nervous, dear, but don’t worry – they won’t be expecting too much from you on your first day,” she said. “Don’t be embarrassed if your magic is a little weak compared to the other witches. I have faery heritage, so I’m actually quite strong.”

  I chewed my cucumber and stared at her, finding it hard to believe that this ancient witch was trying to brag to me about how tough she was. “Faery heritage?” I repeated.

  She nodded eagerly, not able to keep a smug grin off her face. “Yep.”

  “Goblin?” I guessed.

  Her face fell. “There’s no need to be rude,” she said.

  Rather than answer, I picked up a slice of cake and bit it aggressively, hoping maybe Maude would get the message that I wasn’t really feeling this conversation. Instead, she looked me up and down.

  “You’d better watch yourself with those snacks. Keep eating like that and you’ll start packing on the pounds.”

  Somehow I doubted it given that this would likely be all I ate on any given day until I finally had my business back on track, but I was saved from responding by Hecate calling us all to form a circle. The meeting of the coven was about to begin, and with it would end my freedom – although to be honest that’d pretty much ended the moment The Department came into my life.

  “Sisters, gather round,” commanded Hecate. “We’re about to begin.”

  The conversation died down immediately and the witches began to make their way towards the cauldron at the front of the room. We gathered in a semi circle facing Hecate and Daisy, sheriff and second-in-charge respectively, as they stood at the front.

  Hecate continued, “As many of you know, tonight we welcome a new witch. Nessa, please join me at the front.”

  I shoved the remainder of the two sandwich triangles I was holding in my mouth, brushed my hands off on my robe, and made my way to the front. As I drew closer, I saw that a circle had been drawn on the ground in chalk and there were extra candles around its circumference, ready to be lit. Looked like we were going to be doing some magic tonight. I wondered if that had something to do with my initiation.

  Daisy gave me an encouraging smile as I stood next to her. I turned to face the crowd and took the opportunity to look more closely at the coven. A lot of the members seemed to be older human
s, as far as I could tell. There were no ghosts among them, which wasn’t really a surprise given that most humans, even witches, couldn’t see ghosts (of course, because otherwise I wouldn’t have much of a business).

  I sent out my magical feelers to sense what kind of energy was coming off the congregated witches, hoping that would turn up a more diverse range of magical talent than my initial eyeballing had. I didn’t find much of interest – a couple of the witches had slightly unusual energy patterns, suggesting they had some magical heritage although they presented as human (not Maude, interestingly enough – she was as weak as they came) but the majority were plain old witches. Sigh. I’d been hoping to meet some interesting people, but it looked like I was in a room full of humans. And old ones at that. Not even a demon hiding in the corner.

  Still, as I watched their shimmering energy, something about the witches made me grow uneasy. The energy looked human, definitely – pale and sickly like all human auras were, with only minimal magic to keep them alive. But there was something I couldn’t put my finger on, something that just seemed… off.

  I frowned, thinking. What was it that was disturbing me about these witches? I was pretty sure I wasn’t just looking for a reason not to join the coven. Their energy wasn’t quite right. Perhaps there was more to the Green Wattle Witches than met the eye.

  A coughing sound to my right alerted me to the fact that Hecate was looking at me expectantly. I realised while I’d been surveying the room, Hecate had still been talking. Apparently at some point she’d asked me a question, and I’d just been staring blankly in another direction.