The Druid Witch

by J. D. Cavan

  “I’m not staying. Sorry, I’ve got cases to solve. You know, the murders.”

  He frowned. “You’re a tough one to figure out, Stone.” I knew that I was confusing him, sending him mixed messages. Last he’d seen, Dr. Blake was at the supernatural holding unit and my Akantha personality was in full-on flirting mode.

  I felt bad about it, but I wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship right now. Besides, I had Liam to deal with. Not to mention that I had my Akantha personality to deal with. I couldn’t have her showing up in any real relationship. That could be one of the very serious repercussions Dr. Edwards talked about.

  “I’m just not there,” was all I could say to Blake.

  “I can’t wait forever,” he said.

  “I never asked you to. Have a good night, Dr. Blake,” I replied as I walked away.

  I was ready to leave when I ran into Terry. She was about to say something to me but I interrupted.

  “Who is Julian Collins, and why is he here?”

  “Mr. Collins is one of my biggest donors.”

  Interesting, Julian is wealthy, I thought to myself. “But what does he do?”

  “I don’t know. My assistants keep track of those kinds of things.”

  “You should probably know who’s giving you money, Terry.”

  Her face flushed in anger. “I’m not new to all of this, if you haven’t noticed. But thank you for looking out for me,” she said curtly. “I trust my people, not that I have to explain it to you.”

  “You don’t. Bye,” I said in annoyance. I turned away from her.

  “Hold on.” She grabbed my arm. “I have two things before you dash off.”

  I faced her. “Go ahead.”

  “I thought you might want to know that you just missed the new commissioner. He had to leave but he loved your speech!”

  “I’m glad I’m making you look good,” I said. I tried to be grateful but there was always that feeling that Terry was just out for herself, no matter what.

  I was interested in meeting Commissioner Gallagher, however. I kept missing the opportunity to discuss what I thought were similar opinions we shared about how the supernaturals should be treated as equal citizens of New York.

  “Secondly, I have someone I want you to meet.”

  Standing with Terry’s assistant was a young man named William Turner. Terry had him brought over and she introduced him to me. He was an entrepreneur who lived in the city. He came across as a nice guy who said a bunch of positive things about supernaturals. He then excused himself and walked away.

  “He’s very interested in hiring a supernatural workforce for his IT company,” Terry said. “I thought you might be impressed by that.”

  “That’s great, Terry,” I replied unenthusiastically. Terry was impossible to trust, her motives always unclear.

  I was trying to listen to Terry but Agent Tasso distracted me. She was standing nearby, talking to someone. I could tell, however, that it was more about watching me interact with Terry and William Turner than chatting with whomever she was mingling with.

  “Mr. Turner’s a bachelor, and very wealthy.”

  “Oh, that’s why you wanted me to meet him. Goodnight, Terry,” I said, leaving her side.

  Terry had been forever trying to set me up. She’d tried with James Blake and now it was this guy William Turner, apparently. Terry was not the person I wanted making relationship decisions for me.

  As I walked out the front door of the mansion, I peeked back over the crowd. I was searching for Julian when I caught Tasso’s eyes. We glared at each other before I left.

  * * *

  I WAS TOO tired to even change out of my dress. I sat down at the SOJ bar and poured myself a beer.

  “What’s on tap?” Liam asked. He came into the meeting room from the kitchen.

  “Evil Twin pils, care for a pint?” He stopped in his tracks.

  “Mayor’s ball tonight, I see. You clean up really well.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t wait to get out of this.” I motioned to my gown.

  “How’re the escort cases going? Any leads?”

  “Nothing. It’s really strange. We should have a positive ID by an escort from the second murder scene. She reported that she had contact with a second escort, and likely suspect, but she couldn’t recall her appearance,” I said.

  Liam had a curious look on his face. “No memory at all?”

  “None, or so she says. What do you think?” I asked.

  “Primarily, there are two types of supernaturals that can affect people’s memories. That’s a witch and a vampire. A witch can cast a memory spell, and a vampire uses mind control methods.”

  “If the escort at the second murder scene is a victim of memory wipe, or memory control, that could narrow the field for a possible suspect,” I said.

  My mind was drawn to Nessa. I had briefly considered her as a possible suspect. I had no evidence to support it, but it could answer a question I had about the timing. She shows up New York City and the escort murders occur at the same time? Maybe she was a nice girl when Liam knew her as a mortal, but now she was a devious killer vampire. I certainly wasn’t going to share my thoughts with Liam. Not yet, anyway. Not until I had more proof it could be her.

  “Yes, it might narrow things, but we don’t know much about either group. The NYC Vampires are impossible to break into and no one has heard thing one about a witches’ coven.”

  “Are we so sure there even is a coven?” I asked.

  “Based on history I’m pretty sure we could count on it.”

  “Why haven’t they announced themselves yet?”

  “Here in America, I can’t say werewolves and vampires have been welcomed with open arms, but witches? They burn them at the stake.” Liam gazed at me in a funny way. “You know officially you’re a witch, right? Don’t you sense anything?”

  “I don’t, not really.” I had a sudden urge to tell Liam about my Akantha bloodline. It would be so hard for him to hear, and so hard for me to tell him. My late great ancestor, Akantha, had destroyed his life and led him astray decades ago. I’m pretty sure he’d flip if he found out I was related to her and dealing with the effects of her evil bloodline.

  “You’re still new to all this. I remember when I first became a vampire. I was lost.” Liam paused again, as if he was sensing something from me. His vampire senses. “You do seem different lately.” I went to say something and he interrupted me. “And not just how you’ve been dressing, the makeup. It’s something else.” He searched my eyes.

  I just raised my shoulders and took a sip of my beer. He drank his pint.

  He held up his glass. “Evil Twin. Local brewery, right?”

  “Yup. Brooklyn.”

  “Interesting name. Good stuff, Stone.” He finished his beer and hopped off his chair.

  I wondered if Liam was sensing my bloodline issues. I didn’t know if he could tell, somewhere inside him, that I had the Akantha history. Sooner or later I’d have to tell him, or I was sure my Akantha personality would.

  * * *

  THAT NIGHT I had another escort murder dream. It was exactly the same as the others. I had the perspective of the killer.

  I was in a huge penthouse apartment and there was a man lying face down on the floor. He struggled, pulling himself along the floor. He turned himself over, revealing his appearance. It was William Turner, the man from the mayor’s ball; the one Terry had introduced me to at the end of the night. His eyes were wide open in horror and he was pleading for help. His face was blue, and then he finally stopped fighting. His breath stopped, a dead gaze toward the ceiling.

  I woke up and my heart was pounding. I rubbed my eyes and checked my phone. It was late, almost ten in the morning. I’d slept for more than twelve hours and yet felt totally exhausted.

  I had many texts. I opened the one from Silvio. There’d been another escort murder last night. I knew it as I read the name. William Turner had been strangled to death in his apar
tment.

  * * *

  AS I SEARCHED the Turner crime scene, I experienced all the same things I had at the other scenes. It further cemented the idea in my mind that my Akantha personality had predictive powers. At night, during my dreams, she took over and that psychic ability manifested.

  I gazed at Turner’s body, lying exactly as I’d seen him in my dream. Then another thought entered my head, one that changed my entire world. A possible suspect came to me and the thought of it could have blown my mind to pieces. My heart began pounding and perspiration formed on my face. A terrifying question assaulted me.

  What if they weren’t psychic dreams at all? What if they were actual memories of the murders themselves, my memories? That would mean that I was the escort killer. I felt dizzy and nauseous. I leaned against the wall of the bedroom, afraid I’d pass out.

  It was possible that in a dissociated state of mind I was waking up in the middle of the night as my Akantha personality and committing homicide. I felt my face drain of blood.

  Tasso was tracking me again. She watched me from across the room. I knew she couldn’t possibly tell what was happening in my head, but my guilt made me think she did.

  My mind started to freak out, paranoid thoughts jumping around. If I was the killer, then Tasso might have some clues. She might be on my trail and I wouldn’t even know it. She had seen me last night talking to William Turner before I left the party!

  Tasso strolled up to me. “You don’t look so good.”

  “Something I ate,” I replied. I tried to hide my panic.

  “Yeah, maybe.” She stared at me.

  I took some deep breaths and left the room. Tasso followed me with her eyes as I walked out of the apartment. I stepped into the hallway, shut the door, and leaned against it.

  I was still in a state of terror. I could have a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation. I was Dr. Jekyll, and my Akantha personality Mr. Hyde. Oh god, what had I gotten myself into?

  I pushed myself off the door and headed for the elevator. I needed to see Dr. Edwards immediately.

  * * *

  “LILA, COME IN,” Dr. Edwards said.

  My call to Dr. Edwards had been pretty frantic, so she’d seemed concerned. She had no idea how bad it was.

  On my way over, I got even more hysterical. The conversation I’d had with Liam added to it. He’d said only witches and vampires could erase or control memory. That explained the escort’s inability to ID the other escort—and likely killer. This was definitely a clue. I was a witch, a messed up dissociated one, but it didn’t matter. I was a suspect. More clues kept pointing me out as the escort killer.

  “Thanks for fitting me in,” I said, sitting down. I was shaking a little.

  “I only have a few minutes, but you have me very worried.”

  I took a deep breath. “I need to ask you something.”

  “Of course.” She studied me.

  “I know you said that psychiatric disorders weren’t the best way to categorize my Akantha experience, but have you ever treated someone who had Dissociative Identity Disorder?”

  Before my meeting with Dr. Edwards, I read the Diagnostic Statistical Manual for mental disorders. I wanted to re-read the criteria for Dissociative Identity Disorder, and my fear was confirmed when I read it. But I’d never worked or seen a real clinical case.

  “In my hospital training I had once, yes. Why do you ask?”

  “In the criteria for the diagnosis, it mentions that the patient can lose a sense of time and have amnesia-like symptoms. Is that true?” My heart was pounding.

  “In general, it must be true to make it in the manual. In the case I had, it was. Not major amnesia, but certainly short spans where the patient experienced missing time and events she couldn’t recall when she was in her alternate, or secondary, personality.”

  My face flushed, anxiety and dread seeping in. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Dr. Edwards what my absolute worst fear was, that I was blanking out and not recalling that I was in fact the escort killer. But from doing detective work I also knew that I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I needed to have hard proof and evidence. It was strange to think that I would be collecting evidence on myself. I also had another theory I needed to disprove first—that Nessa could be the killer.

  Dr. Edwards studied my face. “Are you concerned that you’re losing time, amnesic episodes?” she probed.

  I shook my head. “No, not yet.” That was true and not true. I was pretty sure that when my Akantha personality took over, I was very much aware. I could recall the details of those moments, like what had happened inside Spikes with Duke.

  But there was another factor I couldn’t deny, a big question mark in that logic. If I was having episodes of amnesia, I might not know that I was. The thought struck a chord of panic inside me before I pushed it out of my head.

  I knew this much: I needed to find out what Nessa was up to—fast. I called Rumble. I had him meet me at the SOJ.

  Chapter 15

  “THE ANXIOUS SMELLY one is here to see you again,” Dean said.

  Rumble waddled into the meeting room and climbed up onto one of the bar stools. He was particularly ripe, a mix of rotten food and some kind of body odor.

  “I need an update on the female vampire, Nessa O’Shea,” I told him.

  Rumble glanced at Dean. “He told me to follow her, but I don’t work for him.” Rumble was always angling for something, so I slid a glass full of beer to him. He grabbed the pint in his little hands.

  “I know what you do. I not stupid. Give me a drink and get me to talk.” He seemed not to care, though, and gulped down his Evil Twin Double IPA. He then belched loudly.

  Dean looked like he was going to throw up. “Can I please leave?” Dean asked under his breath to me. I shook my head. I was having trouble trusting myself and I wanted Dean with me as a witness.

  “Can’t I have a little chat with my friend Rumble?” I replied, filling his pint glass again. Rumble looked at me suspiciously.

  I started talking to Dean casually. “We seemed to have a pretty good handle on most of the gangs, the ones we know about anyway. The goblin gang is mostly locked up and the CPP is talking to us. It’s that darn NYC Vampire gang we’re in the dark about.”

  “I knew it! No one knows about them,” Rumble blurted. His words were a little slurred. It was a double IPA, after all. I could see that it went right to Rumble’s head.

  “But you’re not no one, Rumble. You’re the best.” I filled his glass again and he drained it. He took a little longer to finish it. Dean sighed loudly and then shook his head at me. Rumble wasn’t driving anywhere, but he was teetering on the edge of his barstool.

  I poured myself a pint and took a sip but didn’t fill Rumble’s. He watched me. “Ummm, that’s good. Okay, you can leave since you have no information for me.”

  “I want another!” he demanded like an old drunk. Rumble tried to reach around the bar but I slammed his hand down. He cried in pain.

  “Where has Nessa been?” I asked. I thought I was losing patience, but it was Akantha coming out—or had been out already.

  “I trail her, she hides in the shadows, everywhere!”

  “Not everywhere, Rumble. Where specifically?” I opened the tap and poured him another one. I held it out in front of him.

  “GothX, I seen the vampire Nessa there. But I wouldn’t go, even Detective Stone would be in danger!”

  Dean was on his phone. “It’s a club in the West Village.”

  Rumble fell off his stool and then stumbled toward the door.

  “Hold it, Rumble.” He stopped. “What’s at GothX?”

  He turned around to say something but then passed out cold on the floor. Dean raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

  “Lovely,” Dean said.

  “Let him sleep it off on the couch.” There was a comfortable leather couch in the meeting room. It sat under the front windows.

  “Not my couch,” Dean said in defiance. “Do y
ou know how much we paid for that?”

  “We’ll put some old blankets under him.” I lifted Rumble and carried him over to the couch. He was so tiny he weighed next to nothing.

  “Fine,” Dean said tersely.

  “I knew my instincts about Nessa were true. Here to heal? Bullshit.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. You don’t know why Nessa was at GothX. You don’t even know what’s there.”

  “Maybe. But I know where I’m going tonight.”

  “Not alone. Take Nick and Liam with you.” Dean spread out a blanket on the couch and I laid Rumble down on it. “You heard what the smelly one said. It’s dangerous.”

  “I’m going in stealth mode. I don’t need the entire SOJ blowing my cover.”

  I’d had it with Nessa. I simply didn’t trust her. She was my primary suspect now. I had a lot riding on the fact that she was the escort killer.

  Chapter 16

  I CONSULTED JESS for my undercover trip to GothX. She was thrilled to be doing something besides applying to colleges.

  When I arrived at the club, it was dark and full of people dressed exactly the way I was, in tons of dark makeup and clothing. It was perfect. I could move about unnoticed.

  There was a very loud punk band playing in a back room. A spiral staircase full of people led to higher floors. The place was enormous, high ceilings and sinister-looking artwork all over the walls. It was packed. There may have been a smoke machine because fog was rolling into the bar area from the room with the band in it. The place was upbeat but eerie.

  Whatever Nessa was doing here was beyond me. I got to the bar and ordered a beer to fit in even better, and that’s when I noticed that someone was watching me. He was standing on the other side of the bar. I played it off and walked into the other room to pretend to listen to the band.

  After a minute or so I saw him tracking me. He was following me for sure.

  Everywhere I moved, he moved.

  I went back into the bar area and lost him for a moment. I turned around and there he was, standing right in front of me.

  “Hey,” I said. It was obvious to both of us that he’d been following me.