Bad Omen: Morrighan House Witches Book Two

by Amir Lane

  "No way. Only one I sold. Only one I ever sold.”

  Lindy looked around. This was an interesting set up. Most Hex Witches took money for spells either under the table or with other merchandise. This one took broken electronics, charged up front for the repair – the cost of spells – and gave the spell with the receipt. If they never came back for their phone or laptop, well. The laptop he was working on looked like it was at least a solid 15 years old.

  "Are you sure?”

  “Pretty damn. If you got the call log, I can take a look."

  Lindy unlocked her phone, opened the call history to the most recent call from A, and handed it to him. Hex Witch looked it over, nodding and humming. He pulled his sleeve up. QWERTY was tattooed on his wrist. He pressed his fingers to the ink. The air in front of him rippled into the form of a keyboard. Damn, that was handy. Dick inhaled sharply beside her.

  "Nope, this is definitely not one of mine," Hex Witch said. "This is hacked and jerry-rigged. Probably two, three spells stuck together with duct tape. I can't tell you who, but it wasn't me."

  Lindy clicked her tongue.

  "What about hiding or cloaking? Something that'll hide someone from a Seer?"

  Hex Witch pointed at her.

  "That one, I do. Some people don't want to be found. Lots of people. Not a whole lot of people who want to go that off grid, though. Did one a few months ago. Spent a week sleeping it off. Completely sucked the power out of my BF’s tablet. Won’t turn on anymore. He’s still pissed about that."

  Lindy looked at Dick. His face was pulled into an expression that showed he was only half following the conversation.

  "Who was it?" she asked, almost frantically.

  They were so close to a name! But Hex Witch shook his head.

  "Not a whole lot of point selling a hiding spell and telling who it's for."

  Lindy moved closer to the counter. There were three symbols tattooed behind his ear: Bluetooth, Wi-Fi, and cell reception.

  "I think this guy’s taking out Mohr's Circle in Lorelle, all the people who moved from here. If you know anything…"

  Hex Witch licked his lips and looked between them.

  "I don't want to get involved in Lorelle’s shit. Not after what went down last year. You know, with the…”

  He trailed off and looked at Dick with raised eyebrows. Dick sighed and rolled his eyes, but he turned and plugged his ears anyway. Hex Witch leaned in close.

  "Okay, so, this is mostly just what I heard, grain of salt and all. But basically, Lights and Shadow Maker —" Alistair Cudmore and Dieter. "— had this thing going on. What I hear, Lights wanted to be the big name controlling spirits down here, and I guess he figured Shadow Maker could make it happen.”

  "How?"

  "I dunno. Kill him and eat his heart or something? Necromancers are terrifying."

  She couldn't argue with that.

  "Anyway, Shadow Maker wasn't here for that shit. They had this massive fight, put Shadow Maker in the hospital, right. Some people are saying Shadow Maker killed Lights after, only I also hear he died in a fire.”

  “You know how rumours are,” Lindy said. “There’s always seven versions of everything.”

  Still, the story was making her stomach twist. She had an idea of where this was going.

  “But here's the thing: few days, maybe a week later, this big-ass, German-sounding Necromancer, not Shadow Maker, comes in for an accidental fire starter. I don’t sell that shit. Best case it's arson. Worst, well… Lights’ place went up, didn't it?"

  Lindy stomach sank. Ekkehardt. She knew he went after Alistair after Dieter was hospitalized. She knew, logically, that he must have been responsible for the fire. But hearing it from Hex Witch was another matter entirely

  "So what did you do?”

  Hex Witch shrugged.

  "Told them to try the place in Guelph. He said it was too far, so I dunno what he did. He looked kind of fucked, though. I figured— That hiding spell was for Lights’ foster brother. Kenneth Bramhall. I figured he was lying low. Avoiding the whole Necromancer turf war. Shit, is he actually…? "

  "If he's the one you sold it to, then probably. "

  "It was definitely. I went to school with him and Lights."

  "Can you undo it, then? Can you make it so I can find him?"

  Hex Witch sucked his teeth.

  "I have to be able to find him first so I can set a counter. But obviously… I don't half-ass my work. I'll check my books, see if there's a way, but don't hold your breath."

  Roadblock after roadblock. But they had a name now. A name was a powerful thing. Even if Hex Witch couldn't do anything with it…

  She glanced over at Dick.

  “Can you— You should probably call this in. Put out an APB or something.”

  She nodded toward the door. Plus, she had something personal. He didn't need to be here for it. Dick exhaled sharply. For a second, she didn't think he would leave. But then, he turned and walked away.

  “Something else?” Hex Witch asked.

  “Yeah. I was wondering if there was anything you could do about this.”

  She lifted her sunglasses so he could see the dark holes spreading across her irises. Hex Witch whistled. Hey, at least he was impressed.

  “Holy Jesus. The hell is that? I mean, you should probably see a doctor about that. I ain't a substitute for proper medical care. Natural remedies and faith healing don’t work for shit.”

  “I know. But proper medical care can’t do anything about this.”

  He clicked his tongue. Lindy heard his hands come down on the counter.

  “I'll see what I can do. Won’t make any promises, but I’ll call you if I can work something together. For either issue.”

  She thanked him and left him her number before rejoining Dick outside.

  “Looks like you can finally start pulling your weight,” she told him.

  He grunted, but it sounded less pessimistic than usual.

  18

  A name should have been all they needed. It should have been trivial to find him after that.

  Should have been.

  Between the cops in Lorelle and the cops in Kitchener-Waterloo, not to mention Mohr’s Circle, someone should have found him by now. But none of his friends or family claimed to have seen him in weeks, and his cell phone and debit card hadn’t been used in at least as long. And Hex Witch’s spell was too good. Something like that should have run out ages ago. Any half-assed spell should have.

  Should have.

  But like he'd said, he didn't half-ass his spells. Hex Witches rarely did. Plus, the guy was a tech witch, probably a full technosorcerer if the rumours were true. Tech witches were good. Technosorcerers were better.

  And, of course, Ekkehard hadn’t come through on finding anything about Ice Breaker. For the first time in ever, Lindy was hounding him to reply to her messages. She’d even gone so far as to call Michael to ask if her messages were even going through. Apparently, digging through someone’s past was easier when they weren’t a high-ranking member of the police force and a secret regulatory body of witches. That left Lindy to find out what she could through casual conversation with Dick, and other officers and witches. Both teams were usually total gossips, but on this one, they were tight-lipped. All she knew was that Ice Breaker had been with the Kitchener-Waterloo Police Department and transferred to Lorelle the same year the Cudmores were killed, being offered a spot on Mohr’s Circle not long after. It was circumstantial at best.

  None of it explained what Kenneth Bramhall had to do with all this. Maybe Alistair had known the truth of what happened to his family and confided in him. If he was still hanging around, pushing Kenneth into doing all this shit, it might explain why the cloaking spell was so good. It took a powerful spirit to control a person, or so Dieter had told her. But Alistair had been pretty up there as far as Necromancers went. If he was half as powerful as a spirit…

  “We have to find him before he kills someone else,”
Lindy said.

  Both Lenna and Aldo nodded in agreement.

  “The Seers know about him now? Good. We will talk to the animal witches we know. Most of us are very good at finding who we are looking for.”

  She grinned, a flash of white teeth in stark contrast against her dark purple lipstick and brown skin. There wasn't any humour in it. It was a threat, a silent reminder, not to Lindy but the world, that she was a world-class predator, able to take down just about anything. Or at least, her familiar was. Same thing.

  “He hasn't killed anyone in a while,” Lindy said.

  “Isn't that good? Maybe he is done with killing.”

  “Or maybe he's biding his time. If this is because of— what I think it's because of, then his next target could be Ice Breaker.”

  She didn't want to say it out loud in case Dieter heard. Somehow, she didn't think his ex-whatever’s family’s murder was on the list of things he wanted to hear about.

  Lenna whistled through her teeth.

  “Does she know?”

  Lindy hesitated.

  “I didn't tell her. I don't know for sure that she— did the thing I think she did. If I tell her and she didn't do it, she'll probably kick me off the case. If she did, then she'll know that I know.”

  “How bad would that be, though?”

  “If she knows that I know what she did, she might do the thing to me and then I will end up like the people she did the thing to.”

  “What?”

  Lindy sighed and rubbed her hand over her face. She didn't want to do this anymore. She didn't want to have to keep worrying about who was going to die next, about whether or not Ice Breaker was a murderer, about whether or not she would be able to see the next day. All she wanted to do was get some proper sleep.

  Maybe after this, she would quit being an operator. Did librarians have to go to school? Well, going to school wouldn't be the worst thing. If Lenna could do it while working full time, so could she. Unless she fucking went blind. Could blind people even be librarians?

  “What are you going to do?” Lenna asked.

  “I don't know. I could try scrying again. But if it doesn't work, I— I don't know. We're fucked.”

  "I can find him,” Dieter said.

  Lindy jumped in her seat and grabbed Lenna’s arm. Her heart pounded in her ear.

  “Jesus Christ, can somebody please put a bell on the Necromancer?”

  How long had Dieter been standing there? He mumbled out an apology.

  "Okay, what did you say?" she asked.

  "Alistair's brother. I can find him."

  "How?"

  "The Shadows. I can make them look for him and see what they see. I do it all the time when I don't feel up to going to class."

  Lindy looked back at Lenna. Her face was too fuzzy to make out expression. If both her methods and Dick’s were drawing up blanks, she wondered how it was even a question.

  "If it'll help, go for it."

  She regretted the words the second they were out of her mouth. What the hell was she saying? The Shadows were not safe to fuck with. She had no idea what using them did to him, and she wasn't convinced he did either. He didn't give her a chance to change her mind.

  Dieter pressed his palms flat against the kitchen table with a deep breath and tipped his head back. Nothing happened. Nothing that Lindy could see, at least. Then Lenna stiffened, and Aldo bared his teeth. So obviously, something happened.

  She wasn't sure how long they waited. She didn't notice anything until she heard either Lenna or Aldo growl. Dieter hunched over, his breath coming out heavy between his teeth.

  "Dieter?"

  Lindy stepped forward.

  "I'm fine,” he gasped. "I got this."

  At the new angle, Lindy could see blood dripping down his nose. Oh, that could not be good. She reached out to him, but he leaned away from her.

  "Dieter, it's okay. We can find another way."

  "I can do this!" he insisted through clenched teeth.

  His hand gripped the edge of the table.

  No, he couldn’t.

  It was too much, but Lindy didn't know how to stop it. Should she grab him, or maybe just try to talk him into stopping, or—

  Lenna made the decision for her. She took Dieter by his arms and yanked him back and into her chest and held him firmly. He gasped, thrashing against her for a few seconds before going limp and leaning against her for support. There were red spots in his eyes large enough that even Lindy could see them. Blood blisters.

  Was she an awful person for wanting to ask if he, or the Shadows, saw anything?

  "Come on, querido. Sit down, I'll get you some water."

  "Dieter? Are you okay?” Lindy asked.

  Dieter swallowed audibly and nodded.

  "I'm fine, I just… Never did that much at once. I can try again. I —"

  "No, it's okay. You don’t have to."

  It wasn't worth it. If only a few minutes did this… There are always other ways. There had to be.

  19

  “This is your better way?” Dieter whispered. “Are we even allowed to be here?”

  He pressed up to Lindy’s side, making it almost impossible to walk.

  “Would you relax? We aren’t going to get caught.”

  “So, in other words, no. Shouldn’t you come with that detective guy? Isn’t that why you’re working with a cop? So that you aren’t doing this shit alone?”

  “Not exactly. Anyway, Dick wouldn’t be any help here. I need somebody who can see and deal with spirits.”

  “Do you know who we are? We're the white people in the first ten minutes of a horror movie. You know what happens to—”

  Dieter stopped walking and stared at the burned down townhouse. Lindy couldn’t make his expression out in the dark, not with her glasses on and massive spots missing from her field of view, but she could guess what it was.

  “I’ve never been here before,” he said quietly.

  There was some measure of sadness in his voice; if looking at a picture of Alistair Cudmore was hard on him, Lindy could only imagine how hard visiting his house was. Lindy wouldn’t have asked him to come with her if she knew any other Necromancers besides Ekkehardt, but it wasn’t like Ekkehardt was going to accompany her to a serial killer’s dead Necromancer foster brother’s house — was that right? — to see if his spirit was still hanging around the place.

  It sounded less crazy now than it had earlier. If there were spirits hanging around any place, this was probably it.

  “We shouldn’t be here,” Dieter said. “Something feels… wrong about this place.”

  “Probably Alistair hanging around.”

  As soon as the words were out of Lindy’s mouth, she wished she could pull them back. Dieter was still raw about Alistair’s death. Not that she could blame him. It wasn’t something they ever talked about, even though it should have been.

  Was Dieter ready to see Alistair’s spirit if it was here? He could barely look at a frigging picture of him without getting teary. It wasn’t fair of her to ask him to be here. What the hell would a spirit tell them, anyway? It wasn’t as if they spoke. That would be too easy.

  “If you don’t want to do this, we can go home. We don’t have to go in.”

  Dieter stared at the townhouse for a long few seconds.

  “No,” he said. “No, let’s do this. If it’ll help, we should do this. I mean, I don’t know how it’ll help—”

  “Neither do I.”

  Hey, she should at least be honest with him.

  “Great,” Dieter said dryly. “Like I was saying, if it’ll help, I’ll do it. Let’s just get this over with before anybody sees us.”

  “Now who says you aren’t the adventurous one?”

  Dieter snorted and pushed her toward the house, but it wasn’t eagerness; he clearly wanted this to be over with just as much as she did.

  The door creaked open easily, considering how long it had probably been closed for.

  L
indy didn’t know why she expected the lights to still work. Nobody had lived here for over a year. They had to use the lights on their phones to see. The floor was caked in ash and soot. It was a little hard to breathe. Even with the light, Lindy couldn’t see anything. She lifted her sunglasses but lowered them again when it didn’t help.

  “Do you see anything?” she asked.

  “Not see, exactly… But there’s something here. I don’t know. I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to tell if it’s him,” he admitted. “I’m still sort of new to this whole Necromancy thing, remember?”

  There was a tone of anxiety in his voice. Lindy was starting to get anxious herself. Dieter was right; this place looked exactly like the kind of place two white people in a horror movie would walk into before getting murdered.

  She followed Dieter into another room. New to Necromancy or not, he knew a hell of a lot more about the whole spirit thing than she did. There was reading on it, sure, but it was impossible to tell what was reliable since Sensitives and Necromancers all experienced it differently. Up until Dieter, everyone had believed that spirits didn’t even make a sound. Who knew what else the literature was wrong about?

  Since she wouldn’t be able to see Alistair even if he was there, Lindy turned her focus to Dieter, watching his movements and reactions to what he was seeing.

  It was hard to tell what was going through his mind when she couldn’t see his face. When she moved closer, she could see how tense he was. His head jerked from side to side, following the path of something she couldn’t see. Whether it was Alistair or his regular Shadows, she couldn’t tell. She had to assume that if it was Alistair, he’d probably be freaking out a little more.

  “Move,” he mumbled, pushing something aside.

  Lindy followed him into the kitchen and walked into his back.

  “Jeez, walk much?” she said.

  He didn’t move.

  The hairs on Lindy’s arms and neck rose, and she had a sudden urge to bolt for the door. She stepped around him, but she couldn’t see anything to make Dieter freeze up like that.

  “It’s you,” he breathed.

  “Wait, you see him?”