Wicked Wings

by Keri Arthur

Belle nodded. “It would be far easier than trying to summon her, and no protection circle we could create on the fly would ever be as strong as the spells that now protect this place.”

  I frowned. “It would mean creating a temporary doorway through the magic to allow her entry—”

  “Yes, but the ‘can do no harm’ rule would remain intact and unaltered.”

  Yes, but opening a doorway also meant we’d be vulnerable to attack in those few vital minutes between disengagement and realignment if there happened to be other White Ladies in the area. But she was right—this building was the one place we’d be utterly safe. “You think she’ll go for it?”

  “If she wants to talk to us, she will.”

  I glanced past her to our ghost and explained what we were going to do. “We promise no harm will come to you within our walls unless you attempt to attack us. This is the only way we’ll communicate with you, now that we’re aware just how powerful a witch you are.”

  For several seconds, she didn’t respond. The wind stirred the insubstantial swaths of her gown, blowing them around her form like a foaming wave. Then she made a sharp ‘whatever’ gesture with her hand and nodded a third time.

  “Give us ten minutes.” I pushed away from the railing and headed inside, Belle on my heels. “You’ll need to weave the temporary exception through the current spell threads—you’ve a better feel for her than me.”

  “That’s if what I’m feeling is real. There’s no guarantee with a magic-capable spirit.”

  I glanced back as we clattered down the stairs. “That’s sounds like you’ve been reading up on them.”

  “A little. While I really do doubt she intends either of us harm, there’re enough stories out there to emphasize the need for caution.”

  “And here I was thinking magic-capable spirits were a rarity.” I strode into the reading room and began shifting chairs away from the center of the room.

  “They are, but witches and spirits have been interacting for eons. That’s plenty of time for deceptions to happen.”

  “I’m gathering most ended badly?”

  “Very.”

  “Fabulous.”

  Her smile flashed, though it didn’t do much to dispel the tension crinkling the corners of her eyes. “We’ll be fine in here.”

  We probably would, but that didn’t make what we were about to do any less dangerous. I helped Belle move the table, then rolled up the rug to reveal the spell work etched into the floor. We sat in the middle of it all and shuffled forward until our knees touched. Then, after taking a deep breath to center my energy, I narrowed my gaze and carefully began disengaging—but not deactivating—the multistrand spell layers that shielded this place. Holding them tightly in one hand to prevent unravelling, I slowly and carefully pried away the threads that dealt with the more ghostly end of things and then glanced at Belle. “Your turn.”

  She immediately began to spell. Her magic wove through the existing strands, setting perimeters and adding time restraints. If, for any reason, we were rendered unconscious, the White Lady still had a limited time frame within our walls before the rest of the threads slammed down and evicted her.

  Of course, if we were rendered unconscious and she did intend us harm, those time restraints probably wouldn’t save us.

  Once Belle had finished, I reconnected the main spells. As the full hum of power once again flowed around us, I said, “How do you want to proceed?”

  She hesitated. “The same way as we usually do for a hostile spirit. Me talking, you monitoring.”

  I searched her face for a second, seeing both her fear and determination. “If you’d rather not do this—”

  “We need to find out what her link to both the shifters and the flesh stripper is, and this is the only way we can do it.”

  “Maybe, but your safety is more important—”

  “Which is why you’re going to forcibly disconnect us the minute she—in any way—attempts a takeover.”

  “What if she’s more powerful than either of us?”

  “That’s totally possible, but there’s no way she could be more powerful than the wild magic that now inhabits you.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure the wild magic could be called upon in such a situation, but who really knew? There were already a whole lot of things happening that shouldn’t be possible.

  I held out my hands. She gripped them and squeezed lightly, as if I was the one who was stepping into danger rather than her.

  “Ready?” she said, and then at my nod added, “Right, let’s see what this bitch wants.”

  Nine

  She took a deep breath, then reached for the specter prowling the pavement outside the building.

  White Lady, we are ready. Her mental tone was both powerful and confident. You may enter the building as long as you wish us no harm.

  The surrounding magic pulsed, and the hum of power briefly intensified as the threads reacted to the spirit passing through them. She wasn’t immediately rejected, which was at least something.

  Then she was in front of us. Thanks to my link with Belle, I could now see her very clearly. She remained in white, but there were flashes of crimson in her flowing hair, and her eyes were silver. Not just a witch, but also a royal one.

  Do you have a name, spirit? Belle asked.

  Names hold power. I do not wish to give you mine.

  And yet you want our help.

  Yes.

  Why?

  To stop the monsters that feast in this place.

  Again, why? What is your connection to them?

  They killed my child. They must be made to pay.

  But in seeking such vengeance, you have paid a great price.

  One I would pay ten times over to stop these creatures.

  How is the shifter you killed connected to the flesh stripper? Are they working together?

  No. They are one and the same.

  Surprise rippled through Belle and echoed through me. Shifters can’t shred humans the way these things do.

  We are not dealing with shifters as such, but rather Empusae, a variation of the Empusa. They can attain several forms—that of Strix, and also a young woman. It is the latter with which they lure their prey to their deaths.

  My heart began to beat a whole lot faster. I’d heard owls hooting a number of times over the last few nights—had it been the Empusae? Is that why the wild magic had surrounded me before I’d entered that tree tunnel?

  Are they capable of magic? Belle asked.

  Yes.

  Given you’ve already killed one of them, Belle said, why do you need our help?

  Because the other two are now aware of my presence. I will not so easily gain another opportunity to stop them.

  How long have you been hunting them?

  Decades.

  And this is the first time you’ve managed to take one of them? Incredulousness filled Belle’s mental voice. Why, when you retain much of your witch power?

  Much is still not enough. The one I trapped was younger—foolish—and an easy target. The other two—one of them an elder—are not.

  In case it’s escaped your notice, neither of us are exactly powerful.

  Perhaps not, but one of you commands the power of this land and the other can be a vessel through which I can move and act.

  A chill went through me. No, Belle—

  Let’s not discount anything until we know more. To the spirit, she added, Meaning what? Now is not the time to speak in riddles.

  The Empusae are aware of my presence. I have not been able to trace them since I bound and drowned the younger—

  Which suggests, Belle cut in, they might have simply left.

  They have not.

  How can you be so sure? Belle’s grip tightened on mine as she spoke, and strength began to flow from me to her. It was little more than a trickle, but the longer this went, the more help she’d need. Communicating with spirits didn’t normally drain her so quickly, but this was a very different typ
e of spirit to the ones we usually dealt with.

  Because it ends here. I have foreseen it.

  Have you also foreseen how that end will be achieved?

  First you must trap and restrain them. Then you must stab them through the heart with blessed silver.

  Which explained the needle Monty and I had found in the shifter’s body. It hadn’t been used to pin her to the owl form—it had been the means by which her soul had been evicted from her flesh.

  And have you any ideas how we’re going to trap them, given we can’t even find them?

  Most Empusae cannot be active during the day. They tend to hide in deep forest, in places well-protected from sunlight.

  Why then was the one you killed in a cottage rather than a cave with the others?

  She was foolish, as I said. But the Empusae do not roost together, only hunt. It is a means of ensuring the line goes on if one is caught.

  That suggests the younger are the offspring of the elder.

  They are. Many spirits are capable of reproduction, even if the means is very different to that of humans.

  The breeding habit of demonic spirits was not something I wanted to think about. Ever.

  This entire reservation is littered with mines, which gives them ample places in which to hide, Belle said. It’d be helpful if you could provide a little more information about their roosting habits.

  Belle’s pull on my strength grew; we’d have to end this soon before it became dangerous.

  You will not find them in mines, unless they are the type that goes horizontally rather than vertically into the ground. They are not comfortable in deep earth, our spirit said. And their roosts have a distinct aroma—one that is a combination of rotting meat and sickly perfume.

  Which was exactly what I’d smelled in the tree cave where we’d found the second lot of feathers—and that meant we needed to go back there and place a trap rather than just an alert.

  And if we do find and trap them? Belle asked. What then? What exactly do you want of me?

  You may kill the remaining younger creature, but I wish to inhabit your body while you stab the elder through the heart. I want to feel her blood pulse over my fingers. I want to watch as the light dies in her eyes and the realization of oblivion claims her. Only then can I rest in peace.

  Belle’s inner shudder once again echoed through me. Allowing a spirit to claim his or her flesh is something every spirit talker is warned against.

  I guarantee, on my eternal soul, that I will not overstay or seek to claim what is not mine.

  Your eternal soul was damned the minute you forsook moving on in favor of vengeance.

  The White Lady’s form shimmered, and her agitation sung through the air.

  I have the goddess’s blessing in this endeavor—my soul is not damned. Light will be my end, not darkness.

  No goddess I knew would bless vengeance—unless, of course, she meant one of the many war goddesses. She was certainly old enough to be a follower of more ancient deities.

  If I agree to this, Belle said, how do I contact you? If they’re able to sense your presence, you cannot simply follow us around.

  No. The White Lady hesitated. If you call for Vita, I will hear its echo through the spirit world and respond. The name gives you no power over me, but there are few who bear it these days and none such who do reside in this place.

  Fine. Leave with our blessing, and we’ll be in contact.

  Vita immediately did so. A few seconds later, the time exception ran out and the full weight of the spell layers slammed down. We’d been in contact far longer than I presumed.

  Belle took a shuddering breath, then released her grip on my fingers and fell into my arms. I held her while she shook, pushing energy into her body through our telepathic connection despite the ache flaring in the back of my brain.

  “Enough,” she said eventually, her voice etched with weariness. “One of us needs to be mobile for work tomorrow.”

  “Work tomorrow is the least of my worries right now. Are you able to get to your feet, or do you want some help?”

  “I think I can manage.”

  She pushed out of my grip, then slowly got up. I rose with her, keeping a hand on her elbow just in case. To say she was unsteady was something of an understatement.

  “If this is how talking to her for ten minutes affects you, I hate to think what letting her spirit into your body is going to do.” My voice was grim. “You can’t—”

  “It’s not like we have many other options right now. Besides, didn’t Katie warn you to give her what she wanted?”

  I slipped an arm around her waist, providing support as we slowly made our way out of the reading room. “Yes, but—”

  “Vita wants this. She needs this. And if she doesn’t get it, the run of troubles we’ve had of late will seem like a party compared to the hell she’ll rain down on us.”

  “But what she wants might well kill you—”

  “Yes, and that means we have to find a way of preventing the force of her spirit overwhelming and destroying mine. There’d have to be spells—we can’t be the only witches in the history of all magic forced to deal with a spirit this way.”

  “A comment that does not ease my fear in any way.” I took a deep breath that also didn’t help a whole lot. “Monty, Ashworth, or Eli might know, but in the meantime, we should check your gran’s books.”

  “I’ll do that tomorrow. You need to grab everyone else and figure some means of trapping these things.”

  A smile tugged my lips as we made our way up the stairs. “My familiar has her bossy pants on this evening, it seems.”

  “Actually, I haven’t got any pants on.”

  My grin grew. “Monty would be pleased to—”

  The rest of that sentence ended in a grunt as Belle shoved her weight sideways and my shoulder hit the wall. “Tart,” I muttered, smiling as I straightened.

  “If you stop being a teasing bitch, I’ll stop being a tart.”

  I chuckled softly. “One foul revitalization potion coming up.”

  “I’ll be asleep before you finish making it.”

  “Then I’ll wake you.”

  “You’re evil, you know that?”

  I chuckled again. Once I’d helped her into bed, I headed back down to make the potion. She was asleep by the time I returned, so I left the concoction on the bedside table for her to drink whenever she woke up.

  When I checked her the following morning, the glass was empty but she remained asleep—and probably would be for a good part of the day, given just how drained she’d been.

  I rang Monty and Ashworth and asked them to come over once the café had closed for the day, but I couldn’t get hold of Aiden. I left a message and then got down to doing all the little things needing to be done before we opened. The day was steady rather than flat-out, which at least gave me time to run upstairs and check Belle was okay. She was only just beginning to stir by the time Monty and Ashworth arrived.

  “Hey,” Monty said. “What’s up?”

  “We had a visit from our White Lady last night, and Belle finally communicated with her.”

  Monty’s expression immediately became concerned. “Is Belle okay? I know strong spirits can seriously drain a talker’s strength.”

  I placed a hand on his arm. “She’s fine but she’s sleeping it off.”

  His relief was evident. No matter what Belle might think, his flirtation was more than just a game. “Good. But if she needs a revitalization potion—”

  Fuck, no, came Belle’s somewhat sleepy comment. He’d probably add some ever-loving herbs to it.

  I barely restrained my grin. Even Monty wouldn’t go that far. He wants to woo and win by fair means, not foul. Are you coming down?

  That would be another ‘fuck, no.’

  This time, the laugh escaped but I managed to cover it with a cough—though Monty’s raised eyebrow suggested I hadn’t done so too well.

  “White Lady?” Ashworth said. �
��I gather I’m missing some information on this matter.”

  “Monty didn’t fill you in?”

  Ashworth scowled at him. “No, he did not.”

  Monty’s grin was as wide as the Cheshire Cat’s. “Must have forgotten. Sorry.”

  “A little more sincerity wouldn’t go astray,” Ashworth growled. “What has the specter got to do with the flesh stripper?”

  “Everything. She’s hunting them.” I headed behind the counter to make us all a coffee.

  “Them?” Monty said, voice sharp. “There’s more than one?”

  “There were three, but thanks to the fact she killed one—”

  “The shape shifters are the flesh strippers?” he cut in excitedly. “That’s awesome.”

  Ashworth gave him a dark look. “Only the greenest of witches would consider such a fact awesome.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re jaded, old man.”

  “This old man will clip you over the ears if you don’t watch your manners.”

  Monty’s grin widened. “Even on crutches, I could outrun you.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

  “Neither would I.” My voice was dry. I placed their coffees on the table, then sat down and quickly updated them on everything Vita had told us about the Empusae. “We’ve two problems—”

  “One, how to find them,” Ashworth cut in.

  “And two, how to protect Belle if she does allow this spirit to share her body,” Monty added.

  “It’s the second one that worries me the most—do either of you know any spells that can stop a hostile takeover?”

  Ashworth frowned. “I know there are a few that can force a spirit out of a body, but I’ve only ever used the usual assortment of charms to prevent the spirit ever getting a hold. They won’t work in a case like this.”

  “Not when the spirit is this strong or being willingly invited,” Monty said. “I know uni had a course on spiritual possession. I’ll contact the dean and see if he can give us something.”

  “Just tell him it’s urgent,” Ashworth said. “Deans are not well-known for their speed in answering questions.”

  Monty raised his eyebrows. “Speaking from experience?”

  “Yes, and it’s not one I want to repeat.” His gaze came to mine. “Did Vita make any suggestions as to how to find their daytime hideouts?”