Bad Omen: Morrighan House Witches Book Two

by Amir Lane

  “Do you have an address or should I just drive around looking for a house with red bricks, an unpaved driveway, and a bad lawn?”

  Well, that was what they were doing.

  “It’s foreclosed. I think it’s been that way for a while.”

  “Foreclosed houses in that area. Got it. I’ll call you when I find it. There’s a… situation I need to take care of first, but I’ll head over as soon as I can.”

  Lindy glanced over in Lenna’s direction. She was back to seeing… nothing.

  “Great.”

  Hopefully, they would get there first.

  There was a story in Greek mythology about an Oracle named Tiresias who was blinded by Athene when he saw her naked. When his mother, one of her nymphs, asked her to undo it, she couldn’t. Instead, she gave him the gift of making predictions from birds. In another version, Tiresias was cursed to spend seven years as a woman by Hera for killing one of her snakes. After he had been turned back, he was summoned to settle a dispute between her and Zeus over whether men or women enjoyed sex more. He made a crude joke, and Hera struck him blind for it. As an apology, Zeus gave him the gift of foresight.

  It was also said that Tiresias could communicate with the dead.

  Lindy was really hoping that last part came with the blindness.

  “So what’s the plan?” Lenna demanded. She pulled over and stopped the car. “What are we going to do, go in and try to ask nicely to stop killing?”

  Lindy didn’t want to answer. With the number of people she knew who handled spirits, with the number of times she’d seen the damage spirits could do, she should have known better than to go in without a plan. And yet…

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I know we’re going to walk out of this.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “Well, we brought the jaguar, didn’t we? Aren’t jaguars communicators with the underworld or something?”

  “That’s Mayan! He’s Aztec!”

  Oh, shit. Did Lindy know that? That seemed like something she should have known.

  “You two,” Lenna said, “you and Dieter, you do not make good decisions. And I don’t see your cop.”

  Lindy looked around. She could see one of the convenience stores downtown, two bodies on the floor and a third lying limp over the counter. Dick was nowhere to be found. Was he on his way? He was probably on his way.

  “He's coming. You ready?” Lindy asked.

  Lenna cracked her knuckles.

  “If we’re gonna’ do this, let’s do this, garota louca. Any idea what we’re walking in on?”

  Abigail stood behind Kenneth. The wound in her neck was spurting blood that disappeared before it could land on anything. Kenneth’s mouth moved. Lindy couldn’t hear anything. He wasn’t screaming anymore. No, his expression had hardened and he gripped a gun in his hand. Did he know they were here?

  Oh, crap, he had a gun. Was it loaded? It was probably loaded. Of course it was loaded! It was one thing to go into this herself, but bringing Lenna?

  “One spirit, one serial killer, and one gun.”

  “What kind of gun?”

  “I don’t know. Handgun?”

  Lenna snorted.

  “Amateur. Alright, stand back. I’m kicking the door in.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I can probably pick the lock.”

  She had a few bobby pins in her hair. This was something she didn't need to see to do; she'd learned to pick locks by ear in the first place.

  “Doing it anyway.”

  Lindy heard Lenna’s foot collide with the door and the wood splinter. It only took the one kick. Oh, they so had this.

  She reluctantly let Lenna lead the way. Even if Lindy had been able to see, Lenna had the advantage of being able to see in the dark. They crept quietly across the floor. The hardwood only creaked beneath Lindy’s feet.

  On the other side of the wall, Kenneth lifted the gun. Lindy only had time to inhale sharply, but Lenna’s reflexes were much better than hers. Before she even knew what was happening, Lenna had grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back into the corner of the room. The bullet hit the wall across from them. Lindy’s stomach lurched. The only thing that kept her from puking was Lenna’s even breathing against her hair and her heart beating in a slow, steady rhythm against her back. How the hell was she so calm?

  “Distract him,” Lenna whispered.

  “What?”

  “Distract him. Talk to him so we can get his gun.”

  How the hell was talking to him going to help them get—

  It wasn't just the two of them.

  The realization hit Lindy in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. How the hell did she forget about Aldo? The whole thing about being an animal witch was the animal part. All of Lenna’s power came from the jaguar. The whole reason Lenna probably decided to back her up was because she had the frigging jaguar. Because there was no way Lindy, Seer or not, could take down someone with a gun, especially not when she was relying solely on her visions. And Lenna, Lenna probably could but maybe not without taking a hit.

  Aldo, though… Aldo was made for this sort of thing.

  Panic rose in Lindy’s throat. Aldo was a fucking predator. Could he take something out without ripping it up? Kenneth was a serial killer, yeah, but he didn't deserve to be ripped apart by a wildcat.

  Okay, maybe he deserved it a little, but that wasn't up to them!

  “Len,” she whispered urgently, “don't kill him. Don't let Aldo—”

  “Shh. Trust me. We'll take this, just keep him talking. Yeah?”

  Lindy nodded. She had to swallow a few times to push her heart out of her throat and back down into her chest.

  “Kenneth?” She cleared her throat. “Kenneth, it's Lindy. We— talked. On the phone. You've been calling me.”

  “I know who you are.”

  Lindy squeezed her eyes shut behind Lenna’s sunglasses. All she could see was a pair of bright yellow eyes creeping across the floor.

  “Look, it’s over. Put the gun down, and we can all walk away from this.”

  Kenneth laughed. It bit into Lindy's skin and made the hair on her arms and neck stand on end.

  “The police are on their way. If you surrender, I can help you. I know some really good lawyers. I know you're not doing this on purpose.”

  “You don't know anything!”

  “I know that Abigail Cudmore was murdered. I know that it was made to look like a suicide.”

  “Mohr's Circle covered it up! They covered it up just like they covered up Alistair’s murder!”

  A second shot rang out. Lenna's grip tightened.

  “Keep going,” she whispered.

  “The people here had nothing to do with Abigail. That happened in Kitchener. And— And Alistair was a one-person thing.”

  “You think they didn't know? I know you all talk. You think it's a coincidence that the person who murdered me, and the people who knew about it moved here?”

  Wait, what? Who was she talking to, Kenneth or Abigail?

  “Tell me when,” Lenna whispered.

  Lindy shook her head in a silent, ‘not yet.’

  “Why not go after Ice Breaker? Siobhan Cockburn? She's the one who killed you. And— And what do I have to do with any of this?”

  “You can prove it!”

  Wait, was that what she wanted? The killings, were they just to get her attention?

  “Lindy.” There was a sense of urgency growing in Lenna's voice. A low growl rumbled through her chest. “Get ready.”

  “But I don't need her,” Kenneth said.

  Lindy wasn't sure what came first, the roar or the gun shot, but they both hit her ears at the same time. The floor slammed against her knees and hands. The leather gloves were the only thing that kept her palms from scraping. She tried to call out to Lenna, but she couldn't hear anything over the ringing in her ears. Her hands fumbled against the floor for anything she could use as a weapon or at least an indication of w
hat the room looked like. Her fingers curled around her cane. Good start. She found the adjacent wall and pushed herself up, only to come face-to-neck with Abigail Cudmore.

  22

  ‘Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.’

  Lindy couldn't breathe. She tried to force her hands into a fist. Her fingers trembled like she'd been outside without gloves in the winter. Her muscles wouldn't cooperate. None of them would.

  It was fight or flight or do nothing all over again.

  She wondered if Tiresias had ever been frozen like this the first time they were alone in the darkness with a spirit. Probably not. Tiresias had seen Gods. What was a spirit compared to that?

  Lindy had never considered herself to be particularly religious. She was largely a polytheist only because monotheism never made sense to her and atheism left her feeling too empty. Her belief in gods and deities had always been metaphorical. She had always like the idea, though, of a God of Prophecy watching her back, and she'd often called on him to keep her out of trouble in high school. There had been some sort of connection between them, literal or otherwise. The lyre pendant had always meant more to her than she let on. Since graduating, she had only ever called on him once, when Dieter was all but comatose after his fight to the near-death with Alistair Cudmore. At the time, it made sense. He did double as God of Medicine. Later, she felt stupid for it. The belief, metaphoric or otherwise, felt childish.

  She didn't feel stupid for it anymore.

  ’Apollo if you're real or paying any fucking attention I could really use some help please don't let her kill me please don't let her kill me please don't le—’

  Cold hands gripped Lindy's throat. It was only instinct that made her grab at the wrists in a futile attempt to wrench the spirit off her. Abigail was surprisingly solid beneath Lindy's palms, but her fingers sank deeper into her than they should have.

  ’Hex Witch!’

  What kind of moron was he, giving her fingerless gloves for this when it was the gloves that made contact? And what kind of moron was she for not thinking of that sooner?

  She pushed a palm against Abigail's chest, trying to at least take advantage of what contact she did have. It didn't make any difference; Abigail was stronger than her. Much stronger. Lindy’s knees hit the ground again, and the back of her head hit the wall. She gasped. Her eyes flew open, or maybe they had never been closed. Or maybe she was unconscious.

  Oh, God, maybe she was dead.

  No, no. This had to be a vision. This was a vision.

  It was still dark, but it wasn't the pitch blackness of her blindness. It was just… night. Ice Breaker walked up the steps to the house Lindy almost recognized better than her own by now. Just like she did every time before, Ice Breaker made sure no-one was watching before she froze the doorknob and ripped it off. Lindy expected her to fade out just like she had every time before. She didn't. Instead, she let herself into the house and shut the door behind her. Lindy followed.

  This was about thousand times more vivid than any vision she'd had before. Aside from the fact that her boots didn't make any sounds against the floors, it could have been real. When Ice Breaker pulled off her shoes and jacket and left them on the mat, Lindy half-expected to trip over them. Instead, she passed right through them. It was unsettling to say the least.

  Ice Breaker moved through the house with ease. She'd been here before. There was no hesitation in her step, and even though she moved slowly, she still moved swiftly. The longer she lingered, the higher the chances of her getting caught. She ventured into the kitchen to grab a knife, then turned a corner and stopped at the second door on the right. Even as slowly as she opened it, the door still creaked. A rustle of movement made her stop. She held her breath. Nothing happened.

  As she moved through the room, a thin sheet of ice covered the knife. Lindy vaguely remembered something about cooling steel from grade eleven chemistry. Wouldn't that make it more brittle? It would just break off, wouldn't it? Ugh, why hadn't racist Mr Cassidy who taught chemistry been less racist and more interesting?

  Lindy tried to scream. Her mouth moved to form words, but no sound came out. There was nothing she could do.

  Ice Breaker crept to the side of the bed and rammed the knife right through the closest person’s back. The body jerked, gasping. Her hand on their mouth prevented them from screaming. She pulled the knife out and stabbed again. And again. And again.

  Cold working, Lindy remembered. Cooling down steel up to a certain point hardened it. There was usually a process of heating and cooling to reach optimal hardness, but Lindy couldn't remember the formula. It hardly seemed important now. Nothing seemed important now, not when the first body went limp and Ice Breaker moved to the second.

  “Mom?”

  ‘Oh fucking God, no.’

  Lindy squeezed her eyes shut. Even past her eyelids, she could see what was happening.

  Ice Breaker ran past her. Abigail was fast, but she was faster. Her hand caught in long, brown hair, gripping until strands came loose in her hand. Nails raised red lines on Ice Breaker’s bare arm, drawing blood. Frost formed over her skin, and one of the nails stuck.

  Lindy covered her ears. It did nothing to muffle Abigail’s screams. Even when the knife hit the vein in her throat and cut through her blood, Lindy still heard everything. The thud of Abigail's body hitting the carpet, the strained breaths she struggled to take, her foot hitting the end of her dresser again and again… Ice Breaker’s hushed whisper of, “Fuck!”

  Abigail twitched on the beige carpet until most of her blood stained it red.

  Ice Breaker wiped the sweat from the back of her hand with a shaky breath. She crouched, her knees cracking, and closed Abigail's terrified brown eyes with two fingers. It didn't seem to make any difference; Lindy could still see her staring up, could still hear her screaming.

  She left quietly without so much as a backwards glance.

  “Just keep walking,” Lindy whispered. “Don't look back. Just go. Just go. Please, just go.”

  Ice Breaker didn't listen. A crack of light beneath the last door caught her eyes. Lindy stood in front of her. She might as well have not even been there.

  The light was on, but Alistair was fast asleep. There was a book on the floor, face-down and half-open.

  “Ice Breaker. Siobhan. Listen to me. You don't have to do this. He's just a kid. He didn't hear or see anything. Please!”

  Alistair didn't move. He didn't scream. His blanket darkened with each quick, shallow thrust of Ice Breaker’s knife.

  “God forgive me.”

  “They won't!” Lindy screamed. “There isn't a God out there who will forgive you for this, I will make sure of it! Do you hear me? I will never let you be forgiven! You will be judged for this, Siobhan Cockburn!”

  By the end, her voice wasn't quite her own again.

  Ice Breaker walked back to Abigail's room and pushed the knife into her hand. She didn't even look at Abigail's face. As if she'd done it a thousand times before, she walked back to the front door, pulled her boots and jacket on, and let herself out. It was like watching the whole thing backwards. She reaffixed the doorknob, freezing it back in place with enough ice that it wouldn’t melt for hours, made sure nobody saw her, and left.

  Two days later, the kids’ school would try to call the parents. Their workplaces would explain that they hadn't been in, either. The concerned secretary would stop by the house, since it was on her way home anyway, and find their car still in the driveway. She would peek in through a bedroom window and scream until a neighbour came running out to see what in God’s name all the racket was. They would call the police, and they would find Abigail and her parents’ rotting corpses. They would find Alistair, clinging to every raspy breath he could pull into his lungs.

  Detective Ice Breaker would walk the scene, stare down at Abigail with the murder weapon in her hand with cold, guiltless eyes, and declare it a murder-suicide.

  Case closed.

  23

  “L
indy! Lindy, Deus— Lindy!”

  Lindy gasped, feeling as if she'd been pulled from underwater. She lashed out reflexively. Skin caught under her nails.

  “Hey! Stop that!”

  More Portuguese hit her ears. She didn't understand a word of it — except maybe estúpida — but the voice was familiar.

  “Lenna?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, it's me. I got you, querieda.”

  For a moment, all she could do was repeat Lenna's name. She pressed her face to a broad shoulder and clutched at any fabric she could reach.

  “Hey, shh. I got you. You're okay. You're okay.”

  Lenna kissed the top of Lindy's hair. That with the soft circles she traced on her back had her muscles relaxing. Lindy closed her eyes and leaned into her. God, this was nice. When was the last time she'd been held like this? Weeks, at least. With all that had been going on, she had no idea how much she nee—

  “Abigail! Lenna—”

  “Hey, relax. Looks like Aldo’s got some Mayan in him after all.”

  At her words, Lindy was suddenly aware of a sickening crunching and squelching echoing through the room. She swallowed thickly and turned her head just enough to find the source of it. She could see nothing in the room aside from Aldo tearing into a body with his teeth.

  “Len, what is he—”

  “Relax, querida, it's not really her. It's just her spirit. I think.”

  “How— Kenneth—”

  “Aldo unarmed him. I dislocated his shoulder. Don't look at me like that, they can put it back. Guess it hurt too much. He blacked out pretty quick. I made him drink that crap Hex Witch gave us. There was a lot of puking and nose bleeding, and the girl’s spirit just… showed up.”

  “You can see her?”

  “He can. He never usually sees them. I dunno, maybe this stupid necklace thing actually did something. We're still figuring this out, too, okay.”

  Lindy's breath shook. What would have happened if Aldo hadn't seen Abigail?

  “It's over now. Let's call your cop and—”

  “It's not.”

  “Que?”

  “Ice Breaker. She did this. She killed them. All of them. Nobody knows. Nobody even suspects.”