Damned and Cursed (Book 8): Witch Trial

by Bullion, Glenn

  The streets were unusually lifeless. Lights were on in houses. But there were no dogs barking, no cars running, no one on the sidewalks.

  Kevin squatted in front of Martha and grabbed her arm. She didn't try to pull away. She tried to look him in the eye, but wasn't able. Her stare was fixed on the ground between them, tears trailing down her face.

  "What did they do to you?" he asked, his voice cracking. What the mutilation meant for Martha slowly dawned on him, and he cried along with her. "Martha. What is going on?"

  "I'm so sorry," she said, finally meeting his eye. "I should have told you so much sooner."

  Marie leaned down toward them.

  "Hey. Do this later," she said sternly. "What do we do now?" She pointed back the way they came. "Everything, all your stuff, was in the house? Your coat? Please tell me you've got something else in mind other than that ridiculous fanny pack."

  Martha and Marie argued while Kevin studied the neighborhood, glancing at the nearby homes.

  "We need to get to my store," Martha said. "It's not ideal, but we can put together some magic there."

  "The store? You want to lock ourselves in a tiny building and try to put up a fight? You want us to put ourselves in a corner? No. The woods. That's where we need to go. Out in the open, they won't have a chance. I'll kill all of them."

  "Kill? No, we can't kill them. They're…."

  "Witches?" Marie finished. "I think we figured that out."

  "Family," Martha said. "They're still my family. Witches…don't kill our own kind."

  Marie scoffed.

  "That's just not smart. The werewolves that attacked me, killed my family. I hunted them down, killed them."

  "Well, that's your kind. That's not—"

  "Hey!" Kevin interrupted. He pointed at a house on the corner. "That's the Wiltons' place, right? Didn't they just have a baby?"

  Martha took a step forward and squinted.

  "Yeah. A little girl. Nicole took her out of town to visit her mother. Only Paul is home right now."

  Kevin almost smiled.

  "Perfect."

  He crossed the street. Martha and Marie jogged to keep up. He knocked on the front door loudly.

  "Paul! Are you in there? It's Kevin, from the store."

  No response. Kevin would have knocked again, but there wasn't time.

  "Does someone have a key? Just any key."

  Marie put her hands on her bare hips.

  "Does it look like I'm carrying anything?"

  Kevin averted his eyes and looked at Martha. She shook her head, and he tried not to notice her arms. He stared at the ground, the only safe place to look.

  "A portal then," he said. "I just need something to—"

  Marie moved him aside. With one swift kick, the door swung open. She ushered everyone inside and shut the door behind them.

  "Paul," Kevin said again. "I'm sorry, don't freak out. We need help—"

  They froze when they turned to the living room.

  Paul lay on the floor in front of the couch, his shirt missing. His jeans were around his knees. A woman Kevin didn't recognize, but knew wasn't his wife, lay next to him. She was also in a state of half-dress, wearing only a bra and panties.

  "What the hell?" Kevin said.

  "Paul!" Martha called. "Lisa!"

  She tried to run to them, but Marie stopped her. Marie dropped to her hands and knees and ran her nose along them. It felt strange to see so many people without clothes.

  "They're alive," she said. "They're just—"

  Martha finished for her.

  "Asleep."

  A moment of silence passed between the three. Marie looked back and forth between the witches, agitated. Every time Kevin thought a witch's magic couldn't surprise him, along came a new spell, even if it wasn't his own.

  "Aggie?" he asked.

  "Who's Aggie?" Marie asked. "Is that who just burned down your house?"

  Martha nodded.

  Kevin dropped to a knee and gently shook Paul, who didn't move. Sleep magic was a part of his arsenal, but he needed a container, needed to directly expose someone.

  "How did she do this?"

  "Twenty years ago, she could knock out maybe a block for a few hours. Who knows what they've come up with since then?"

  Kevin stood and carefully approached the window. He didn't see it before, but a man sat slumped in his car across the street, his head leaning against the steering wheel.

  "Shit," he said. "Did she put the whole neighborhood to sleep? The whole town?"

  "I don't know. But it'll wear off. You know that. Turn the lights out."

  "No," Marie said. "Leave the lights on, so it looks like any other house. And get away from the window."

  He followed her advice. Marie continued to stare at Paul and Lisa on the floor.

  "Why aren't we asleep?" she asked.

  "Because we're not human," Kevin answered. "It doesn't work on us." His thoughts shifted back to the plan that was swimming in his head. "I'll look through the kitchen. Marie, I need you to find a computer, and pray to God they have a printer. Martha—" He felt guilty asking, but even without hands, she could search. "Can you find baby powder?"

  "Why?" Marie said, frowning.

  "Just do it," Martha said.

  The three separated. Kevin threw cabinets open, not bothering to close them. He gathered a pot out of habit, although he didn't need heat. The questions came, even though he tried to focus on the task before him. Why were Aggie and her coven after him? Why did they mutilate Martha?

  Martha's timing was perfect as he dumped ingredients into the pot. She entered the kitchen carrying a bottle of baby powder under her arm.

  "I found this. Do they have the chili powder? Vitamin C?"

  He arched an eyebrow, reminded once again that Martha went through his spell-book.

  "Yeah. Lisa is always getting vitamins at the store."

  Kevin quickly mixed the potion. It turned its familiar shade of purple. His portal magic was a mainstay in his old coat, along with a few photos of important places. The potion was a part of his latest work-in-progress, his fanny pack, that was burned in Martha's basement. He hadn't even protected it with fireproof magic yet. His work-in-progress was turning out to be a bust.

  But he wasn't done yet. They could still fight Aggie and her coven.

  He just needed a destination. He needed to prepare.

  "Marie?" He walked to the stairs, where he last saw her. "Are you up there—?"

  "I found a printer," she called back.

  He jogged upstairs, Martha right behind him. Marie was searching a bedroom, looking under a desk. She'd covered up with a pink robe she found.

  "The printer's in the other bedroom," she said, pointing. "But I don't see a computer."

  Kevin opened the closet door.

  "A tablet. A laptop. Or a phone. Anything will work."

  A voice spoke,.

  "Martha. I know you might not believe me, but I'm very sorry for what we had to do."

  Aggie.

  The voice came from low, near the floor. Marie's head jerked to the side as she stared at Martha's feet. Kevin's eyes went wide with panic.

  "Your shoes!" he shouted.

  He dropped to his knees and plucked her shoes off as Marie helped steady her. A small hole had been hollowed out of the right sole.

  Inside was a stone, glued in place.

  "Shit!"

  Kevin knew what a simple magical stone could do. Communication, a very strong shield, and a reliable way to track the wearer.

  "Find something!" he said. "Look in the closets. Everywhere!"

  Marie left the room. Kevin searched under the bed, hoping to see a briefcase or a laptop. Nothing. He threw open the closet door. Every typical household now had technology. He just needed to print a single picture.

  "Hi, Aggie."

  He turned to see Martha sitting on the bed, next to the shoe he'd removed. She maneuvered it onto her lap, a sad look on her face. Their eye
s met, and he knew her intention. Stall Aggie for as long as possible. He rummaged through the closet while the older witches talked.

  "Hello, Martha. I see you all found the present we left behind. The four elements always amazed me. Some of the purest and most powerful magic comes from the earth."

  "Very clever. You always were clever. You know, I used to believe in what we were doing. A witch should never kill another, unless there was no other choice." Martha looked at her arms. "Now, I'm not sure. Maybe you should have just killed me."

  "No. Despite everything that's happened, you are of the coven. No one is going to kill you. After this is all over, you're going to live with one of us. We'll take care of you. We'll rotate every so often, maybe six months, to keep the witch-hunters confused."

  "Wow. It sounds like you've planned this all out."

  "You have no idea how long I've been planning."

  "Will I stay behind bars? In a cage?"

  There was a long pause.

  "I hope not. But that's up to you. Does he know yet?"

  Kevin turned from the closet. Martha stared at him, her lip twitching.

  "No. I haven't told him."

  "Oh, God, Martha. You shouldn't keep him in the dark. Look, we're right outside the house. He should know why all of this is happening. I'll let you talk to him. And listen, is that werewolf still in there with you? She's the one I didn't really plan with all of this. She has nothing to do with our little family dispute here. Tell us where Kevin's book is, and she can leave. I wouldn't mind getting a look at it."

  "My spell-book?" Kevin said.

  Martha leaned away from the shoe.

  "It's not in the basement?"

  He shook his head, smugly satisfied to have at least annoyed Aggie in one way.

  "They'll never find it." He leaned out the doorway. "Marie! Have you—?"

  "No! Not yet. I can smell some kind of battery, but it doesn't mean it's a laptop."

  Kevin took a breath and glanced around the room. He was a witch. He tried to take in the surroundings, remember the various things he saw in the kitchen. He needed to make some magic, and quickly.

  "We need to fight."

  Martha rose from the bed.

  "No. We can't. Kevin, your magic is strong. Because of your parents, it can be stronger than any half-witch. But you're not invincible. These women have decades of practice."

  "I'm not rolling over just so they can kill me."

  "They don't want to kill you. They want to cut your hands off, and take whatever magic recipes they can get from you. They want to use you."

  Kevin flinched. He'd never considered the possibility of losing his hands before.

  "Okay, well, we can't just—"

  A new voice entered the room. It took a moment to realize it wasn't Aggie. Instead, it came from Kevin's stone, on his finger.

  He thought he'd never hear it again.

  CHAPTER 22

  "Cindy!" Leese called. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

  Leese gingerly leaned over Cindy. She cradled her head carefully, studying her. There weren't any bruises or physical injuries. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, breathing normally. She still wore the same clothes from earlier in the night, when they watched a movie at the house. They must have taken Cindy not long after Leese and Alex left.

  "Don't waste your time," Michael said. "She's going to be asleep a few days. Just like you were when we first used that potion on you."

  Leese glared at him and scowled. He still had the gun on display, resting on his lap. She would have rushed him if he didn't have a weapon.

  She still thought about it.

  She hooked under Cindy's arms and moved her to the other side of the spacious limousine, as far away from Michael as possible. He was talking to someone in the front seat through the half-open glass window. It was the man who'd been waiting in her apartment. His face was twisted in pain.

  "Are you okay?" Michael asked.

  The man nodded before nearly growling at Leese.

  "You crazy fucking bitch!" he shouted. "You almost knocked my head off!"

  Leese didn't have words, only rage. If she weren't keeping Cindy from falling, she would have reached through the window.

  "Calm down," Michael said, then looked at the driver. "Drop him off on the corner ahead."

  "What about the rest of my money?"

  Again, to the driver.

  "Give him half."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Whoa," the man said. "We didn't agree on no half."

  "And I didn't think you'd need an assist, either." He gestured to Leese. "She's five-foot-five. And you couldn't even bring her out of her apartment."

  "That's because she's a wild whore."

  Michael rolled his eyes.

  "Classy, with manners. It's been a pleasure doing business."

  He closed the window, leaving Leese alone with him. She set Cindy in the corner, as gently as she could. Michael was dressed nearly identically to when she first met him, minus the coat. Despite holding a gun, and kidnapping two women, he didn't seem stressed in the least. His posture was calm, relaxed. He crossed his legs while shifting the gun from one hand to the other. Reaching toward the door, he let out a sigh as he grabbed a glass and bottle, as if he were settling in from a long day of work.

  "Do you want something to drink?" he asked.

  Leese ignored the question. Her brain was working, trying to put together coherent thoughts.

  "You paid to have us kidnapped. Why?"

  "Well, the witch-hunters I hired before didn't do such a great job. I figured some street thugs for hire might be a nice change of pace." He rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Boy, was I wrong. They caught Cindy by surprise, but you? I'm lucky I'm not cleaning up a body right now."

  "Witch-hunters," Leese said. She tried to put the pieces together, but there was still so much missing. She needed to keep calm, and keep him talking. With luck, Alex was listening to every word they said. His strange powers let him know when his family was in danger, and he could almost put himself in the area. A man with a gun qualified as dangerous. "That was you?"

  "Yes." He poured himself a glass of water. "That potion we exposed you to did exactly what it was supposed to. It took you off the supernatural radar, put you to sleep." He gestured to Cindy. "Just like her. What I didn't count on was for Alex and Kevin to still find you so fast."

  The fact that Michael called everyone she knew by their first name was unsettling. How long had he been watching them?

  "Why take me to that farmhouse? What do you want?"

  He let out a smile.

  "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

  Leese went quiet. She tried to look out the window, see her surroundings. If she could spot a street sign, a landmark, anything it all, Alex could see it, too. The windows were tinted. She peered around the limo for anything that could help her.

  "You can stop trying to warn your brother," Michael said. "I told you, you and Cindy are off the supernatural radar. Alex's powers can't find you. And your boyfriend's magic? The same thing."

  Her breath hitched in her chest. Her anger slowly began to fade, as fear took hold. As unassuming as Michael was, he terrified her. He knew of the supernatural world, of witches and demons.

  What else did he know?

  "Where are you taking us?"

  "Just relax," he said, shifting to get comfortable. "It's going to be a bit of a drive. There's a TV there, and water here. Oh, and just a warning. I know you're probably thinking of going for my throat. But I have a magical talisman in my pocket. If you touch my skin, it will burn you." He smiled. "I wasn't joking when I said I was a collector."

  *****

  Nearly two hours passed. Leese had never felt so helpless. Michael was so confident, arrogant, that he'd resigned to take a nap in his corner of the limousine. She stayed close to Cindy, occasionally trying to wake her, but without success. Michael spoke with his eyes closed, bragging again about how it was n
o use. Cindy would wake up when the magic wore off, and not a moment sooner.

  She searched nearby for a weapon. A bottle of champagne, a remote control, anything at all. Crushing Michael's skull with a blunt object wouldn't count as touching him.

  He sensed her intentions in that regard, as well.

  "You have to relax," he said. "If all goes like it should, I think you'll make it out okay. And I'm not just saying that to keep you under control. You are not what I want."

  "Then what is it that you want? You've gone through a lot of trouble just for a drive in the countryside."

  He smirked, and pulled something from behind him. Leese recognized it as the book he'd brought to their first meeting.

  "It's about this," he said, holding it up.

  She reached out to take it, but he flinched.

  "No, no. You're lucky I let you hold it once. This is very important to me."

  She remembered the scribbling in the witch's language, along with a child's sketches.

  "Is this about my brother turning down your case? Look, he can't translate that for you. A possessed kid didn't write that. A witch did." She leaned back in her seat, stunned at a revelation. "But you already knew that, didn't you? That's what this is all about. It's why you sent witch-hunters after Kevin. I don't talk to him anymore. Okay? We broke up, and I haven't seen him in months."

  "You're wrong," he said. Ignoring most of what she said, he flipped through the book and turned the scribbling toward her. "Some of the lettering is similar, sure. I can see how you'd be confused. Believe me, I've translated enough of their language to know. This was written by a demon."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  He leaned forward.

  "Because I'm the one who wrote it."

  Michael went silent a moment, letting his words sink in. Sadness touched his eyes as he slowly turned the pages.

  "I didn't buy this an auction," he said. "This is mine, from when I was a boy."

  Leese saw the same sketches from their meeting. A reflection of a lonely childhood.

  "My parents weren't home a lot. They were either too busy making money, or spending money. The staff that worked at the house pretty much raised me." He held a page up for her to see. "Until they came along."