Long Witch Night: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 2)

by Sami Valentine

  “The blood up your arm is enough of an incentive. Get that suit jacket off before you make a nurse faint.” Vic leaned over to look down at her. “I called my Brotherhood contacts, but not even Fat Crispin had anything for me beyond suggesting that Nevaeh did a death curse.”

  Red stared up at Vic, trying to communicate. He didn’t see the secret messages in her eyes, and all she saw was up his nose. She had heard about death curses; she didn’t realize that they came in frustrating paralysis. The fear had ebbed enough for annoyance to set in.

  The door slammed open.

  “Visiting hours are over.” Even lowered, a hot current of hate pulsed in Lucas’s voice.

  Vic jerked his head up. “Jesus, do you want to be down another hunter? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “You haven’t kicked this tosser out?” Lucas’s quiet observation turned into a low growl. “Why is he here?”

  “I thought, well, gee, he seems like a clean, virtuous young man,” Vic said.

  Kristoff’s hackles raised. “I saved her, you incompetent—”

  Lucas strode forward, his chest nearly bumping his progeny’s. When he came into her line of sight, his aura swirled navy and gray streaked with gold. His disdainful gaze scanned Kristoff, judging him in a snap. “Convenient that you just happened by, waiting in the wings.”

  “Have something to say, sire?”

  “Why were you there?”

  She had been wondering the same thing, but of course, she couldn’t make her sluggish tongue chime in.

  “I was leaving Moon Enterprises after being debriefed by the DVA. I smelled Red, then heard the scream. Put the clues together quick enough to save her.” Kristoff crossed his arms. “I rescued her, so spare me the implications. What diabolical scheme do you think I’m plotting now?”

  “The same predictable one as always. Do anything to get closer to her. Get on our good side before you stab us in the back. I know from experience.” Casual as a coiled snake, Lucas tilted his head, hands in his pockets, and rocked back on his heels. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you, so what’s a frustrated stalker to do? Maybe send some minions. Gotta weaken her up first before making your move.”

  “That’s from your playbook. Not mine.” Stiff jaw eased into a forced grin, Kristoff pulled out his phone. “I don’t need to engineer sinister plots to talk to her. It’s not 1899.” His expression turned innocuous as he lifted the screen, swiping his thumb on the screen. “We text.”

  Red wished she could interrupt. They had texted each other, but it was usually her asking a favor for work. It killed her to be talked about without a chance to give her side of the story.

  “You pester her. That isn’t talking, it’s harassment.” Lucas formed the words slowly, glaring at his progeny. He strode to the door to hold it open. “You’ve been tolerated long enough for what you’ve done, now get the fuck out of LA.”

  “I’ll hop on my jet when I’m ready.” Kristoff crossed his arms.

  “Oh, a jet is it?” Lucas sneered, waving his hands. “Commercial not good enough for the Corporate Croesus?”

  “Matter of fact, no. Drop the poser attitude, I know where you came from. More money than I started with.”

  Vic put his chair between the vampires. “We need the extra muscle, but I swear I will have security haul you both out if I have to listen to this all night!”

  Red couldn’t take anymore. She used all her will to throw herself forward to try and sit up. The room tilted. She grinned—she sat up! Punching her fist in the air, she moved beside Lucas before turning around. ”What the…?”

  The bed wasn’t empty. Lying there in black jeans and matching tank top, the red-haired woman stared straight ahead with unblinking bloodshot eyeballs. Walking to the bedside, Red leaned over the body. It was her.

  12

  December 22nd, 11:11PM, St. Brigid’s Hospital, Los Angeles

  Red waved her hands in front of an oblivious Lucas and Kristoff. Groaning, she planted her hands on her hips and hung her head. Interpretive dance and screaming hadn’t gotten their attention. Why did she think that manic waving would?

  They couldn’t see her waving, hear her yells, or feel the kicks to the shin.

  She looked real to herself. Solid. Yet she felt hollow. Her heartbeat drummed in the distance as if it belonged to someone else. She might as well have been a ghost. If it weren’t for the steady heart monitor beep, she would have thought she was. Her thigh passed through the corner of the hospital bed as she paced. She tried not to look at her physical eyelids frozen open in shock. Unnatural moonlight illuminated the green depths of her eyes.

  Red felt close enough to see, but not touch the real world. In it but not of it. She had determined that she was in a spirit form but hadn’t gotten farther in solving the issue than being pissed off about it. Neither had the guys. They were too busy snipping at each other.

  “Always sniffing around.” Lucas walked right through her to point at Kristoff.

  “If you could keep her safe from our kind, would I need to? You’re lucky I was there.”

  Lucas’s lip curled. “You like coming on in like the big hero to save the damsel so you can get a bite of her yourself.”

  Kristoff lifted his hands to the side with a bitter smile. “I learned from the best, didn’t I?”

  Vic sighed then barked into a phone. “Hurry up, Quinn. Your grandsons are causing a scene at the hospital.”

  Red rested her forehead on her palm. Foggy auras and vivid sigils of the supernatural hospital dazzled in her peripheral vision. She was still working on turning down the brightness of her new surreal-o-sight. Mushrooms didn’t have anything on this trip.

  “They’re enough to wake the dead, aren’t they?” a familiar British voice said.

  Red jumped and turned her head. “Basil, you can see me?”

  “Of course. Clear as I see those two lugs.” He smiled, but tension crinkled at the corners of his eyes. His accent slipped in and out of the British one as his voice trembled. He stiffened his lip. In the doorway, he tugged at the teal hospital gown hanging below his knees. “It’s not fair that you’re in street clothes and I’m in hospital couture. It shows off my gams, but it’s a bit drafty in the back.”

  Red rushed over and pulled him into a hug. She nearly cried out when she successfully touched him. He felt real. She cringed when she finished the thought—as real as she did. “What’s going on?”

  “Far as I can tell, we’re trapped in a limbo between worlds.” Basil returned the hug before pulling away. “And there isn’t a gift shop. I already checked.”

  “Judging by the moonlight, it looks like the dreams I had with Kate Batts. She said I was only looking into…something. I can’t think of the name, but damn, my spirit gaze is dialed up to ten here.” Red glanced at her real body. She honed her sight to see her chakras burning steadily. In the background, sigils glowed on the walls and radiant mists passed by the window. “Have you figured out a way to get back? Maybe another one of your famous hunches?”

  “Afraid not. I’ve picked up some tricks, but that’s the one eluding me.” He walked through a glaring Kristoff to stare down at her body. “I’m now suddenly grateful that my eyes are closed.”

  “Dry eye is a bitch. Not as much as a mystical coma,” she groused.

  “Well, we all have something. My jaw is wired shut.” Basil scowled. His focus was stolen by Lucas who walked through him. He glared after the vampire who stepped to the other. “Pardon me then! Ugh, I will never get accustomed to the rudeness.”

  “What game are you playing now, Novak? This is a move,” Lucas insisted. “You bit her, but that’s not enough, you need to get into her head.”

  “Unlike you, I don’t have time to mess with her head. I have a job that my grandsire didn’t give me.” Kristoff clenched his jaw. “I’m betting those minions were looking to settle a score with you and found her instead.”

  “Let’s exit the testosterone storm, shall we?” B
asil gestured to the door.

  She nodded, following him out to the hallway. “Things are getting heated.”

  “Judging by the hostility wafting off Lucas, we’re lucky he has a soul. It could get uglier.” Basil leaned against the wall, sinking halfway into it. His surly face disappeared into the wall, leaving only startled flailing arms behind.

  Red jumped back, jaw dropping. Holy shit, she had accidentally walked through objects, but she didn’t know it looked like that. Ghost body aside, she didn’t feel like a spirit, but watching him forced the surreal reality on her.

  “Ugh, I forgot to concentrate.” He pulled himself upright to rest on the wall in a second try. “How did you get here?”

  Red relayed the tale, short as it was. The fight with the minions had been pure physical force. She hadn’t sensed any magic use from them. Even the magical sigils over the nearby graffiti had been drawn to prevent fires and theft.

  “Nevaeh?”

  She lowered her eyes and said quietly, “She’s dead.”

  “Christmas came early then. I already eavesdropped enough to know I have her to thank for my condition.” Basil raised his eyebrow. “Death curse on us?”

  “If it was a death curse then it has a delayed reaction.” Red kicked at the ground, trying to concentrate on letting her foot slip through. Her eyes widened when her toe disappeared into the linoleum. If she still had a heart in her chest, it would skip a beat.

  “Was she cuffed in iron?”

  She refocused on him and not on her experiment in defying matter. “She was when she fell.”

  “What about after?” Basil asked. He continued at her confused look. “After she was buried.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. Vengeful witches could be neutralized after death by being buried in cold iron. Had funeral home gotten the curious request? Cora Moon had taken over the case as a high-profile Dark Veil breech in her jurisdiction. “What have you learned so far about this place?”

  “Not enough.” The Bell Witch, Kate Batts, appeared in a cloud of green mists that tangled over her like vines before disappearing. Deep creases around her mouth emphasized her frown. Her fists balled up next to her long gingham skirt. A scolding tone reprimanded them. “Two babes lost in the dark forest.”

  “Good god, is that—” Paling, Basil jumped back. “The Bell Witch.”

  “Call me that not, soulmancer.” she glared at him, green shimmering in her hazel eyes before she turned to Red.

  Shaking hands in front of her, Red wanted to call a mental time out. How many lives did Kate have? They had unplugged her from the world of the living and her slave master had died. Was she a witch or a cat? “How are you here? We released you!”

  “I lost my chains to the mortal realm, but I cannot cross beyond yet.” Expression tightening from worry, she touched Red’s shoulder. “Sister witch, you are in danger.”

  “Yeah, I’m separated from my body.” Red waved her finger at her own face then her torso to point out that she had already copped to the obvious danger. “Hello, spirit here. How do I get back in?”

  “That is a concern, but a far graver one is the evil after you.” Kate gazed down the hall. Her brow wrinkled as her lips tightened. “I feel a returning enemy on the horizon.”

  “Nevaeh.” Red steeled herself for round two with the dark witch.

  “My former master is coming, yes. I fear you will have more than one trial,” Kate warned, then turned to Basil as if taking his measure. “You both need to learn how to defend yourself here.”

  “My hand goes through everything. I can’t pick up a weapon or even smack anyone.” Red put her hand through the wall, letting the material go up to her wrist.

  He crossed his arms. “We’re in the spirit world.”

  “Oh, no soulmancer, you aren’t in that plane. You are in the Dreamland. I hope that this is as far as you stray. You still have some power here.” Kate clasped her hands in prayer. “We need to work quickly.”

  “What can you show us?” Basil asked and lifted his hand. He squinted at his palm. A glowing translucent sphere appeared to glitter through his fingers. “Intention seems to rule. What else?”

  “True. This is a land where you can wish, and if you can let yourself have it, it is yours.” Kate waved her hand over his, and the orb turned into a scorpion. “If you have the power to keep it.”

  Black and the size of a man’s head, the scorpion whipped its tail forward. He yelled and dropped it, jumping back. The scorpion skittered for Red.

  Her first reaction was to step on it. Then she remembered Kate’s words. Brute force wouldn’t work in the Dreamland in the same way. She wished the scorpion was a cat. Good with cats, she ignored them, and they went away. She tried not to think about the times they purred and curled up in her lap.

  The scorpion transformed into a fat black tabby. It still had a stinger at the end of its tail, but instead of attacking, it only rubbed itself on her legs. The furry bulk felt real.

  Kate nodded. “Your will is strong when you release what is and accept what could be.”

  The scorpion-cat disappeared. Impressed, Red leaned closer to examine the empty space where the creature had been. Straightening, she nodded resolutely. “Then I wish to wake up.”

  She concentrated, her eyelids crinkling closed as she imagined herself waking. She even tried the Samantha nose twitch from Bewitched.

  “You just look constipated.” Basil sighed. He turned, wrapping his arms around his waist. “If it was that easy, I would have done it to us both already.”

  “You’re both being kept here. Nevaeh alone holds you, soulmancer, but sister witch, you have a dark one seeking you,” Kate said, urgently. “His magic isn’t his own…yet he has wielded it for many years. It feels like—”

  In the closed hallway, a breeze picked.

  Red shivered even without a body. “What is that?”

  “Nevaeh hasn’t come back on her own.” Kate put an arm out to block the other woman from striding forward.

  Red arched forward, trying to block the panic of a male torso popping through her chest. She glanced down, sniping, “Really?”

  Quinn looked over his shoulder before entering the hospital room. His nostrils flared before he gave a minute shake of his head.

  Shoulders relaxing, she followed him. “Finally, he can break up the cock fight. Maybe he’s seen something like this in 280 years.”

  “You have much to learn!” Kate called after her, scolding.

  “Something is up in here.” Red poked her head into the hospital room to see Vic arranging salt and iron ore on a rolling table by her bed. She walked deeper into the room.

  “I came as soon as I could,” Quinn said, staring mournfully at the bed. His knotted brow framed sad eyes. “Cora is looking for any stray rogues and waiting for the minion to heal to question her too. They have connections to Michel.”

  “Of course, they do.” Kristoff said bitterly, leaning against the wall. “Has the Black Libertine brought us anything useful?”

  Red looked away from the distasteful sight of herself lying like meat on the bed.

  “Maybe Selene could…" Lucas trailed off, wrapping his leather-clad arms around himself.

  Red shook her head. Selene Byrnes wasn’t just Lucas’s ex-girlfriend and sire. She was a vampire who still retained her magic powers, including visions. Also, she was insane. Certifiable. Who knew, even as a souled vampire, what she would do?

  If intention ruled the Dreamland, then she intended to not have Selene anywhere near her. She tried to imagine a golden web of protection around her physical form. It flicked up in her vision. That had gone far better than any of her other spells. Her magic felt closer to the surface here. “Oh, neat!”

  “Absolutely not.” Dismissing the idea, Kristoff slashed his palm through the air as if swatting it away. “Even with a soul, Selene is more likely to kill her for looking like Juniper than save her life.”

  Red bobbed her head. Things were already cha
otic enough without Selene in the mix.

  “It could help.” Quinn considered, rubbing his nails on his chest, looking down at them thoughtfully. “Possibly.”

  Vic glanced between the vampires. “Can she be trusted? Will you be able to control her?”

  Kristoff snorted. “Selene has had them whipped since the beginning. Lucas always chooses her first.”

  Fists clenching, Lucas glared at him. “Don’t you—"

  “Let’s try it ourselves before we call in the crazy guns,” Vic said with diplomatic firmness, putting his finger up. “I think we’ve gathered enough of your freakshow family together.”

  Lucas sat on the edge of the bed, tense as if he expected to spring up again. “Does Cora have any mages on staff? My girl is in rough shape.”

  “My marks are on her neck,” Kristoff reminded darkly, laser focus on his sire’s proximity to Red’s body.

  Lucas stood. He matched the daggers in his progeny’s gaze. His fiery words were delivered as a sharp promise. “I can reclaim that blood, whelp.”

  “Try. I’m curious to see what happens.” Blue eyes glinting like ice chips, not a single inch of Kristoff’s six-foot four frame backed down from his maker.

  “I won last time.”

  “That was last century.” The younger vampire wore the grin of a man anticipating revenge served cold.

  “Enough.” Quinn was quiet, but the order cut through the bickering.

  “Finally.” Red tilted her head back, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Were they going to kill each other before they could save her?

  “Thank god. They’ve been like this since we got here.” Vic gestured to the ritual set up. “I don’t know if Cora can bring in a specialist, but this hospital has mages on staff. The doctor ruled out a host of mystical toxins, but her symptoms match curses from warlocks to alchemists. They’re analyzing the spell, but it’s an old arcane style. European, he thinks.”

  “Bloody fucking useless.”

  Red sighed. Lucas was right. It wasn’t much.