Soul Magic

by Jennifer Lyon

  Key looked around inside and said, “I could kick it here.”

  Sutton shut the door and checked it out. The front room was huge, with a big stone fireplace in the wall on the right. The floors were stained a dark walnut. A group of couches and chairs was in front of the fireplace. On the left side of the room were leather-covered benches and deep chairs around a distressed walnut table. Across the room there was an alcove under a massive stairway. The desk across the opening of the alcove appeared to be the place where guests signed in.

  Sutton passed the stairway and walked into a dining room that had a long table and went into a square kitchen. On the granite bar sat coffee, iced tea, and a plate of cookies.

  Key grabbed a cookie and bit into it. “Not as good as the Cookie Witch.”

  Sutton frowned at him. “They are just cookies.”

  “Dude, you are so wrong.” He took another bite. “Still good.” He tilted his head. “You hear that?”

  Sutton looked up at the ceiling, and caught the faint female voice saying, “What are you doing in here?”

  “I thought you were at the tea. This sink was leaking. I’ll be out of here … you look great.”

  “Thanks. I had a headache. I took some aspirin, but I thought I’d sit outside in the hot tub.”

  “Maybe I can help.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Rubbing your shoulders. Your neck is so tight—” Sutton had heard enough. He backtracked to the stairs and took them three at a time Key right behind him. On the left was a set of double doors. He detected no sound behind them. On the right was a hallway with two closed doors on either side.

  Key pointed to the left.

  They followed the voices to the second door.

  Key disappeared from view, and Sutton shielded his presence, too, then he opened the door and slipped through.

  The room was painted light blue, with a bed covered in a dark blue spread and some kind of fancy white overlay. The voices came from behind a half-closed door.

  “You don’t have to do this. I’ll just go downstairs …” The female voice was uncertain, confused.

  A deeper voice said, “You want me to. You came back to see me.”

  “I don’t think, I mean I don’t remember …”

  Sutton walked silently to the bathroom door. He didn’t like the confused voice of the woman. Using his hand, he pushed the door open.

  The man was big, probably over six and a half feet. He took up most of the space in the compact bathroom. He was crowding the woman against the counter, forcing her to look up at him. “You remember. You want me to seduce you. You’ve wanted me—”

  Sutton dropped his shield at the same time Key did. “Leave the woman alone.”

  The man swiveled his head around, complete shock stiffening his entire body. “Who the hell are you?”

  Key walked into the bathroom and took the woman’s hand. “Come on, darlin’. I’m taking you downstairs.”

  “I don’t … who are you?”

  “Kieran DeMicca. I’m going to get you something cold to drink.” Key put his arm around her and walked her out of the room.

  Turning back to Drake, he answered, “Sutton West. How many of your guests do you try and pull that shit on?” God, he was furious. It wasn’t that hard to find willing women, but this asshole had been trying to memory-shift the woman into believing she wanted sex with him.

  Drake walked past him into the bedroom. “She came on to me. The guests were supposed to be at a tea. She came back early—”

  “Save the lies for your wife,” he snapped.

  The hunter sank down onto the bed. “I don’t usually do that. I really was working in the bathroom. She caught me by surprise … and I … the curse is winning.”

  “Then do the world—and women especially—a favor. Kill yourself.”

  He snapped his head up, glaring. “I know who you are. You’re one of the Wing Slayer Hunters. But you’re just like me, fighting the curse.”

  Sutton took a step toward the man. “I am nothing like you.” He’d never tried to coerce a woman.

  “What the hell do you want? You’ve all declared war on rogues, I’m not a rogue, so what are you doing here?”

  “You have a son named John River Branch. Correct?”

  His eyes slid to the left. “So?”

  “Where is he?”

  “Not here.”

  Sutton took a breath, striving for patience. He needed enough information to wipe Styx from the earth and get the knife Keri was in. For Carla.

  Before Styx destroyed Carla.

  He clenched his fists. Beating Drake up wasn’t going to do anything constructive. The man wasn’t rogue, he had no smell of copper on him. He was just weak. He lowered his face and said, “You want to cooperate with me, Drake. Or I’m going to tell your wife about the woman you just tried to coerce into sex using memory-shifting.”

  Drake lifted his chin. “She came on to me.”

  “What about Trinity? I can uncover the real memory of what you did to her.” Actually he couldn’t, but Carla could. “Your wife is psychic, and all she’d have to do is read Trinity’s mind.”

  He paled. “How do you know that?”

  “I know what I need to. Your son inherited the psychic ability, didn’t he?”

  “Maybe.” He sighed, apparently realizing he had little choice. “After John was born, we moved here, up in the mountains because witches usually stay closer to the ocean. I wanted to keep my soul and raise our son. Acacia and I thought this would be a good environment. We can handpick our guests, we’re a little off the beaten track, but close enough for guests to enjoy the lodge and shops. Acacia is a strong woman with strong ideas.”

  “She knows you’re a witch hunter?”

  “Yes. I mean she’s always been different, too. She got it. I love her, I do. But, I have needs.”

  “So I saw,” he said dryly.

  Drake narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be so judgmental. I’ve outlasted most witch hunters. You’re still young, what, in your thirties?”

  Sutton crossed his arms and stared.

  “Over the years, the pain wears you down. The burn gets worse. But I had to hide the women, Acacia doesn’t understand.” His shoulders sagged. “Maybe John got the wrong idea. He saw me screwing women that weren’t his mother, and I told him to keep quiet.”

  Again, he said nothing. But he thought of his dad and his uncle. Women came around occasionally, and they were treated with respect and kindness. It had been years before he’d figured out that either his dad or uncle was having sex with whatever woman was around. He remembered the time he’d come home early from something or other he’d been doing. He was fifteen, and he’d already felt the curse. He heard his father talking and grunting. Curious, he’d looked through the window.

  Mattie. He remembered her name. Sable-brown hair, a nice smile, and a hideous scar on her face. Some ex-boyfriend had done that. She and his dad had a casual relationship. His dad had his back to Sutton, buck naked. He had Mattie balanced on the back of the couch, her long legs wrapped around him, and was thrusting into her. Sutton had been a teenage boy, and the curse rode him hard. His dick had gone from flaccid to rock hard and ready to blow. But what he remembered was the way his dad held Mattie in his arms, leaning over her, kissing her.

  She tried to turn her face away, tried to hide the scar.

  His dad turned her face back, and kissed her along the scar. Her body had convulsed then, sweet little cries of pleasure spilling from her. That seemed to set his dad off, his back bowing as he came inside her.

  Sutton had learned how to treat a woman who gave her body to him. His dad never said a bad word about any woman that he could remember.

  But this man taught his son that the women were a dirty secret, to be used and discarded.

  With his coldest stare, he said, “I will never be you.”

  “You’re so sure. Wait until year after year of craving witch blood eats through your s
oul.”

  He raised both eyebrows. “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about your son. He’s gone rogue.”

  Drake’s defensive demeanor crumbled.

  Sutton didn’t let up. “He’s running a group of rogues in Glassbreakers, Los Angeles.”

  “Killing witches. So his soul is gone.”

  “And using mortal women. He’s brainwashing them, getting them to kill for him, even blow themselves up.”

  Drake’s face grayed, his fingers curled. “I tried to teach him … I mean, yeah, we gotta use women to fight the curse. But he looked at me like I was weak. Then I found him … Christ.”

  He felt no pity for the man. “Found him what?”

  “It started with little things. He’d get the female guests to do his chores. He thought it was funny to brainwash a guest into cleaning the toilets. But it escalated. He’d force women to have sex with his friends and make money off it. When I tried to put a stop to it, he got a woman to lay naked in my bed for my wife to find.”

  Rage choked him. “He has no conscience.” This man had raised a psychic sociopathic witch hunter who had gone rogue. “And when you went along with him?”

  Drake wouldn’t look at him.

  Sutton grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him up. “Do you know where he is?” “No. I don’t talk to him.” He smelled of fear.

  “My wife does. Acacia talks to him. She might know where he is.”

  The coward was throwing his wife to the wolves. “Does she know what he is?” Sutton registered the sound of two women, Key, and Phoenix coming up the stairs.

  Drake answered, “She’s in denial. She was really worried about him up until the time he took off at eighteen. Then he started calling and sweet-talking her.”

  “Does he ever visit?”

  “Maybe twice in a decade.”

  “Call your wife and tell her to come home.”

  Drake looked at the wood floor. “She rode with one of the guests.”

  Key walked into the room. “Get him out of here. Trinity is going to help Jessica pack. She doesn’t want to stay here any longer.”

  Sutton looked over at the opened doorway. Trinity and Jessica stood together behind Key and next to Phoenix.

  Drake said, “No need to leave, Jessica. It was just a misunderstanding.”

  Phoenix stormed past Key, heading for Drake.

  Sutton cut Phoenix off, body-blocking him. He put a hand on his bulging forearm. “Later. Right now, pack up, Jessica. One of you drive her in her car to the tea, or to another hotel if she’d rather. The other one follow to bring Mrs. Branch back here.”

  Phoenix wasn’t looking at Sutton, but kept his glare on Drake. Finally, he said, “Trinity comes with me.”

  Sutton looked over at the girl. She said, “I should go, that way I can let Mrs. Branch know that you guys helped Jessica out. I’ll explain that there’s a problem here and you drove me to find her.”

  “You know she’s psychic?” Sutton asked her.

  “She knows things, even things you don’t tell her.” She looked at Drake. “She knows more than he thinks. She’ll want to come back.”

  “Good enough. We’ll wait downstairs while you pack up Jessica then go get Mrs. Branch.”

  Drake said, “You can’t just come in my house and—”

  Phoenix shoved Sutton aside. “Listen up, asshole, you either shut the fuck up and do what you’re told, or I’m going to dice you up into beef jerky, then feed the rotting meat to the vultures.”

  Drake shut up.

  “She’s not looking good. Her eyes are sinking into her face, and her skin feels waxy.” Carla poured out some lotion and rubbed it into Pam’s arms and hands.

  The candles in the room went out.

  Chandra looked up from where she was smoothing lotion into the woman’s legs. “We’ll get her back, Carla.” She lifted a hand and waved at the candles, relighting them.

  “Sorry,” Carla muttered, lifting the pajama shirt to pour the lotion on Pam’s stomach. The skin-to-skin contact was important, essential.

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  She ran her hands up Pam’s sides, willing her to feel the caring she was trying to pour into her. “Not really.” The candles went out again.

  “Carla.” Her mom relit the candles, then switched to Pam’s other leg.

  She had the insane urge to throw herself into her mother’s arms. That had never been like her. Keri was the one who had craved touch. “I want him, Mom. I want him to be mine. But I feel like I already took Dad from Keri, I can’t take Sutton. Her eagle.” She funneled her powers into her hands, pouring out her feelings to Pam as she worked the lotion into her belly and ribs. She was trying to keep Pam’s spirit connected to her body, and as badly as Carla hungered, if she could force Pam’s physical body to feel it enough to reach her spirit … it might help. Silently, she reached for Pam’s spirit, trying to strengthen the threads that bound her to her body.

  “Oh, sweetheart. You didn’t.” They worked together to turn Pam over.

  Carla looked down, thinking she had a pretty back. No scar. You have to come back, Pam. This wasn’t your fault. She reached up to rub her temple, smelling the soft jasmine scent of the lotion. To her mom, she said, “Every time I bring Sutton to the astral plane, we’re both naked.” She looked over to see her mom’s reaction.

  “Sounds nice. You can feel him there? Touch him like you have corporeal bodies?”

  “Yes. I don’t understand it. I’ve even tried to summon clothes but I can’t.”

  Chandra lifted her gaze. “Honey, that sounds like your sister’s interference.”

  “She wanted to see Sutton naked?”

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  “Mom!” Carla laughed.

  “Oh, stop it. I’ve taught you better than that. Sex feeds our powers, sex with the right person under the right conditions. Do not make it something less than respectful, Carla. I won’t tolerate that. I don’t care how much of a scientist you are, your soul is all witch. And you need touch as much as our girl Pam here.” She put down the lotion, drew the cover up over Pam, walked over to Carla, and took hold of her hands. “He’s touched your soul. I can see it in your shimmer. It’s blooming your power, and bringing out your beauty. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  She thought of the way Sutton had understood when her chakras flung open, her powers swelling inside of her … she’d thought she had to control it. In her dad’s lab, she’d always had to control her power. Control her mind. Everything was done by protocol.

  But with Sutton, she was all witch, and he’d encouraged her to be as free as her witch’s soul needed to be. She took a breath. “Thanks, Mom.” She hugged the woman who knew her so well. Letting her go, she said, “I want to see if I can reach Pam on the astral plane.”

  Chandra frowned.

  “I’ll be careful. I’m just thinking that since I feel more power, maybe I can quickly find her and coax her back before … anything else shows up.” It had been four days, and she didn’t think Pam had too many days left before her spirit let go of her body. “I’ll just try once, then I need to go to the clinic.”

  “To see Max?”

  “To check on the girls, and see Max,” she corrected. “We’re friends. I want to continue the work I do there, so we need to … fix this between us.” She was being honest, so she said, “I kept hoping that I’d feel something for him. I wanted to feel something for him. He seemed like the right man for me, and I told myself that I just needed time to grieve for Keri and then I’d start getting interested in him.”

  Her mom shook her head. “How is it that you can be so smart about other people’s minds and so dense about your own?”

  Gently she asked, “Speaking from experience, Mom?”

  “You mean your dad?”

  “You two fell in love for the wrong reasons.”

  Chandra squeezed her hand and shook her head. “You’re wrong, sweetheart. We did love each other. I lo
ved his brilliance, the way he believed I was special. Losing my familiar from the curse tore something inside of me. I don’t know how to explain it because you’ve never had a familiar. It’s a bond. We do the spell by moonlight, impressing the image of our familiar on something silver and always wearing it close to our bodies. They are, well, deeper than a friend. Then the curse came and my familiar was gone. Wrenched from me. I was so worried about him. Was he okay? Was he dead? Did he think I had abandoned him?”

  “And you lost your high magic.”

  “Right. I couldn’t open my third eye and find him, I couldn’t do anything. And then the murders started. It was terrifying, we had no protection. We’d always relied on witch hunters to protect us and now they were killing us. The curse was destroying us all. I started selling cookies out of my kitchen, both as a way to survive and to keep busy so I didn’t lose my mind.”

  Carla sat on the edge of the bed with her mom, still holding her hand. “Then you met Dad.”

  “I got a guest appearance on a morning show. It was kind of exciting, and I decided to call myself the Cookie Witch. And there I met this brash young scientist that most people, mortals, thought was crazy.” She looked out the window, her eyes losing focus.

  “Do you know how amazing it was that your father, a mortal, believed? Most men are afraid of us on some level, even if they don’t realize we are witches. They subconsciously recognize our power and it makes them uneasy. But not your father, he was intrigued. We starting dating, and he told me about his research. I told him about the curse, and what it was like trying to live without my familiar and high magic. Jerome didn’t just listen, he heard me.”

  Carla knew what that was like. Sutton had heard her about problems like her father and being forced to choose.

  “Your dad was fascinated, asking questions, trying to understand what the curse had done. How the link between the witches and familiars had broken. He believed that science could fix that.”

  “It was magic, Mom.”