The Death of Destiny Graves

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The Death of Destiny Graves Page 4

by Jessica Lancaster


  “Do you think there could be more?” I asked, glancing to the television screen as people’s eyes were glued to the news channel. “I mean, they’d only just found one girl, now another?”

  “Reminds me of a dog I had,” he said. “She was chipped, but they couldn’t find her.”

  And now dogs. I knew plenty of creatures that would go after pets and other animals instead of humans. The Council were lenient on them if they hadn’t hurt another human before, animals were a lighter sentence—they were labelled the vegans on the monster hierarchy.

  “That’s awful, I’m sorry.”

  “No need,” he said. “It was a few years ago now. But I’ve not set foot in those woods since.” A visible shudder ran through his body. “They should close them off to the public.”

  I didn’t live far from the woods, and all of this was happening on the insides. I’d have to get Ivory to look into it when she was awake.

  “I’d agree,” I said. “I can’t imagine what these families must be feeling.”

  He dug a hand into the inside of his raincoat pocket. “Here’s my card,” he said, handing it over. “I work for the mayor, if you want to talk about petitions, maybe we could work together.”

  Harry Bateson, Assistant to Lord Mayor Lark, City of Canterbury. A fancy title indeed, but Canterbury was in another district, Cottonwood was in Ashford, but it was only a thirty-minute drive away.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Ev—” No. I held the badge on the lanyard up. “I’m Sarah Smith.” The most common of names, I’d barely even read it over when Cassandra had handed it to me.

  “Likewise,” he said. “Anything you can think of to help get the forest closed will be a great help to your county.”

  “Oh, I’ll be thinking,” I said.

  He left. I played with the card in my hand, twirling it over and over. My gut immediately told me not to trust him; he clearly had a motive when he approached me, almost like he’d prepared his card before he arrived at the table—or perhaps it was the way I looked, I caught a glimpse of myself in the slight reflection in the window.

  “You’re never going to guess who that was,” Cassandra arrived, planting herself firmly at the table, she craned her head and neck out over the table and smiled. “Well, guess.”

  “Your mother,” I said. “The High Witch, maybe?”

  “No, no, no,” she shook her head. “It was Hope.”

  I wasn’t aware they’d exchanged telephone numbers. “Oh?”

  “She told me Destiny’s been in touch.”

  “Ghosts don’t use technology.”

  She snapped her fingers. “Exactly.”

  “But there are many other creatures that can,” I reminded her.

  “I suppose the residual energy from a ghost can be enough to create electrical magnitudes,” she said. “If that’s true for this case, we can’t rule out that she is, in fact, a ghost or malevolent spirit.”

  Humming from the back of my throat. She had a point. “And to die in such a way,” I shook my head in a shiver. “What else did she tell you?”

  “She’s coming for her.”

  “We can’t let that happen.” I stood, straightening my blouse from the bottom.

  Cassandra stood, grabbing her coffee cup and tipping it back into her mouth. “Agreed,” she said, removing the cup with an almighty sigh.

  Squinting at her through my glasses, I had a plan. “We need to go for supplies.”

  “Supplies?” she asked in excitement.

  TEN

  There weren’t any witch shops inside Cottonwood, at least not the type run by witches; there were shops that sold items related to the occult as they so fondly referred to it. Most of the items sold weren’t the best quality, and I didn’t receive any discounts for being an actual witch either.

  Wicked Wicks was that shop inside Cottonwood, and desperate times called for desperate measures, and right now we were desperate for something—anything to help us in this case.

  The shop was a five-minute walk, next to a charity shop and a used bookstore.

  “This it?” Cassandra asked, pulling her face and frowning.

  “Yes,” I said. “I know it’s not a usual shop, but—”

  “What would they know?” she asked.

  I pushed open the glass door and in we went.

  The strong scent of lilac incense sticks battered at our initial defences. I tried to keep a smile on my face, looking at Cassandra and the disgust rattling inside her. It might have been a bad place to shop for supplies, but on the road when you don’t have access to actual shops, these places were the next best thing.

  “You look around,” I said to her. “I’ll get what we need.”

  “Can I wait outside?” she grumbled.

  “No, just look,” I said. “You can find hidden gems in these places.”

  The shop was decorated in all black, almost like it had been a relation of the funeral home, but there was a brightness inside here, although to match the brightness was a fog of smoke from the incense sticks burning throughout the place, one on each shelf it seemed.

  I approached the cash register at the front of the shop where a brunette girl sat playing on her phone, she smiled up at me and blinked slowly.

  “I’m Heather,” she said, equally as slow as her blinking. “Welcome. Is this your first time at Wicked Wicks?”

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “I’m looking for a couple things, if you could be so kind as to help me.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she grumbled, her face creasing. “Let’s take it down a notch.” Rolling her hands over each other. “Can you repeat that again? But a little slower.”

  I repeated my request but her befuddled look on her face gave me all the answers I needed to know. She had zero clue about anything in this store, I’d have more luck looking around this place blindly than with her help.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I told her in the end.

  “Find everything?” Cassandra asked, meeting me at the counter.

  “We’ve not been here five minutes,” I replied. “We’re looking for agate, jade, jet, um—” I snapped my fingers. “Topaz, too.”

  “All?”

  “Or any.”

  We both set off around the shop in search for anything that would help. Heather took her seat again and didn’t move, her eyes glued to the screen of her mobile phone.

  “So, I take it these are warding stones,” Cass said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Most of these stones are listed incorrectly,” she grumbled. “Some of them have no energy at all. They’re just pretty rocks.”

  That was exactly why these places were last on my list of places to go, but we had no other choice. The closest shop wasn’t for miles away and that would eat too much of our time, and right now, we were on a pretty limited timeframe.

  “We need enough for the family, and we also need some for the forest,” I said. “Anything we can get to act as a magical tripwire is what we need.”

  She gave a one-hand salute and rushed off once again, rummaging through shelves.

  The shop sold books, tarot cards, an array of scents in all different forms, and many other items from pestle and mortars to cooking herbs, several times higher than the mark-up you can buy them for in the supermarkets.

  Places like these were built by scam artists, trying to sell people on a fantasy they knew full well wasn’t going to come to fruition, and the only time you’d ever see a real witch in one is when they were in desperate need—but then again, you’d never know if you did see a real witch.

  “Found all that I could,” Cassandra said, emptying out her hands on the counter. “They’re quite small, so I got a couple.”

  “That’s more than a couple,” I said, but I was glad she’d taken to the challenge well. I laid the several crystals and gems on the counter beside Cassandra’s. “All of these, please.”

  “Is this everything?” she asked in a long drone. “Today we’re having a fift
y-per-cent sale on all sale items.”

  “No, thank you,” I said. “Just those.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “Our sale items are in the window.”

  I shook my head once again. “Just these.”

  “That’s your loss,” she grumbled.

  I handed her my bank card before she could even total everything. “Whatever it is, put it on here,” I said. “You don’t by any chance offer an ace of wands discount, do you?”

  “A what?”

  “Never mind.”

  Ace of wands was the code used in all witch establishments, it gave favourable prices and costs to all witches who used their services. It was an easy way to test out whether or not a place was legitimate—other than looking for any potential wards outside the shop door, which this place didn’t have either.

  ELEVEN

  Arriving home, Greg was making his way out of the front door, his toolkit in hand. He appeared shocked to see us arrive. I quickly realised that I’d told him we wouldn’t be long, and we’d been longer than expected.

  “Oh, we’re late,” I said. “Sorry.”

  “No, no,” he chuckled. “You’re just in time. I have to be over at one of the manor houses in thirty minutes.” He squinted at us both. “Did you get changed while you were out?”

  “Crumbs,” I said softly. “Oh, we had an appointment and we needed to wear smart clothes.” I shook my head, scrubbing the conversation short. “Let me pay you for the work.”

  He shook his head much more vigorously this time. “Definitely not,” he said. “Just make me dinner some time.”

  That was easily done.

  “Thank you,” Cassandra said, passing him.

  I watched as she immediately went to her cat. I settled in the living room, placing the bag on the coffee table. I snapped my fingers and changed out of the rigid clothing that compressed on my limbs.

  Pouring the crystals and gems out across the table with a slight clatter, Cassandra came into the living room in a change of clothes. She slumped into the armchair and sighed.

  “How do you do it?” she asked.

  “Do what?”

  “This? We can’t catch a break, and now I’m feeling extra stressed because there’s another girl that’s been found dead.”

  I rested a hand on her shoulder. “Look at it this way, you’re helping people. If you stop what you’re doing, nobody is going to be helped.”

  “What’s our next step?” she asked. “This was your idea.” She gestured to the items. “I kinda get the idea, but if you could tell me one more time that would be really good.”

  “All of these can be used as trip wires, supernatural trip wires. They don’t go off if a human trips them.” I watched as she nodded to show her understanding. “We’re going back to the Graves’ family home to set them up,” I said. “If Destiny is alive or has turned into any number of demonic creatures; we’ll know, and these will stop her from entering.”

  The plan was simple, go to the family home and find out if there was anything suspect happening. Cassandra would have to occupy the girl, she was the one in contact with Destiny and she seemed to trust Cassandra; the parents trusted me. I was in two minds about telling them what we were going to be doing—we had after all only just come from their home.

  “I’ll try and get more information from the girl,” Cassandra said. “Like, whether or not she gave her a time or a place to meet.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “I’m going to try and ask the family if they’ve seen anything strange. And then I’ll ask about moving the funeral. With any luck, they’ve not been tainted by whichever sub-level demon it is that got to the funeral home.”

  “Perhaps they’ll be at the house,” she said.

  I gathered the crystals once again in my hands. “Then we don’t have time to waste,” I said. “Let me put these in a tote bag.”

  It was growing darker in the cloudy sky, threatening to rain, but the streetlights still didn’t take the hint and kept our walk covered in darkness. Nobody walked the streets in either direction, we were the only ones to occupy the space.

  “Think everyone is grieving?” Cassandra asked.

  “I think the entire town is.”

  Now that it was dark out, everyone was watching Martha Mandel on 106, ready for more information. 106 was the dedicated news channel on all the cable TV packages. I imagined the Court of Witches had it on their TVs too.

  We reached the front door to the Graves’ family home on Dale Road. All the lights were out, and the curtains closed. It was possibly a sign not to—

  Knock. Knock.

  I took a sharp breath. “I hope they’re in,” I said, not wanting to confirm my wildest thoughts. “Please answer.”

  Click. Whoosh. Click. The door opened wide to Cal and Poppy standing with smiles on their faces.

  “Cal, Poppy,” I said. “It’s me, I—”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “I remember. Thank you for coming back over. Did you leave something?”

  I shook my head. “Oh no. Remember, I told you I was a spiritualist.”

  Cal looked to his wife and smiled. “We do,” he said. “We were talking about you after you left.”

  “All good?” I asked, glancing to Cassandra at my side.

  She’d never played mute or quiet this often, but I noticed a stone in her hand—she was working on something.

  “We wanted to know if you could talk with our daughter,” Poppy said. “She’s having a tough time processing all of this. And we’ve had to move the funeral up. It’s in two days.”

  “We couldn’t have her sitting around any longer,” Cal added with a shudder of his body, wrapping his arms around his wife.

  “Two days?” I grumbled. “That’s very soon.” And it was highly possible she wasn’t in her casket at all. “She can help with your daughter.” I nodded to Cassandra.

  “Yes, yes, I can,” she said, becoming alert. “I can talk to her now if you’d like.”

  They made room for us to enter their home again.

  It wasn’t busy, but there were so many flowers, so many letters—the living room itself was busy with items, all crammed into the corner. I held the tote bag full of crystals close to my chest, I’d need to find a way to set these up without being too obvious of conspicuous.

  “Hope is in her room,” Cal said. “Just up there.” He nodded up the stairs and Cassandra quickly left.

  She had her own agenda of things to do and find out from the family, more specifically from Hope; it didn’t settle well in either of us that Hope was in contact with her sister, but more importantly, that her parents didn’t know.

  Poppy wiped at her eyes, sobbing lightly. “It happened to another girl as well,” she said in a shudder.

  “I heard,” I said softly. “Did you know her?”

  Cal shrugged. “The Thompson family moved nearly four years ago,” he said. “But Milly had been friends with Destiny. She was a little older than her, but they were friends.”

  “They used to have play dates,” Poppy said in a sob. “I can’t even begin to imagine how the family feels—and we don’t know where they live anymore.”

  That wasn’t going to help anyone. I was hoping someone would know more about the girl. So far, the Graves’ had lost their daughter, Destiny, and now the Thompson family had lost their daughter, Milly. If the Thompson family had to travel in, it meant her body would have still been kept in a mortuary—but that was incredibly risky, even if it did present us with an opportunity to see the marks.

  I’d have to be quick here if we were to get home and plan on how to see Milly’s body without having to infiltrate the police station where an artillery of officers would be stationed; that would be the end of the investigation and the start of a witch’s death warrant—my death warrant.

  “Do you mind if I place some stones around your house?” I asked, gripping the handle of my tote bag tighter. “It’s just something for protection. For peace of mind. Many families
I help believe this is a pivotal part in the healing process.”

  “Oh, please,” Poppy begged. “Do what you need, we know it won’t bring our baby back, but if it stops me from feeling like I’ve been shot through my heart, then I’ll take it.”

  It wouldn’t do anything like that—and suddenly I felt guilty for selling them on the lie. Some of the stones had healing properties, but the way I was going to use them, they wouldn’t feel it to the extent they wanted. This wasn’t something that could fill the cracks on a crumbling foundation.

  “I’ll place them at your windows, your front door, and back door,” I said. “Don’t move them.”

  They both nodded in their understanding.

  Each entry point was a pair of two crystals, and a small incantation to wake them and their purpose.

  “Surgit. Magus filum. Tutela.”

  Incantations were best in Latin, the root language, the tongue of which the first witch spoke. It held the most power.

  I stood in front of them as they sat on the sofa. I dusted my hands. “All done,” I said. “You should feel the effects soon.”

  They thanked me with a muffin basket they’d been gifted, but I refused; it was better used for them, they’d need to keep their energy levels higher than I would.

  “I have to tell you something,” Cassandra said in a morose tone from the doorway.

  “Go on,” I said.

  She shook her head. “When we leave.”

  We left soon after, I needed to know what Cassandra knew, and all my crystals were active and in place around the house. If any supernatural creature crossed the threshold, I’d know and so would Cassandra.

  TWELVE

  Exercising the same caution we had earlier, we kept quiet until we were home. It was better this way for the both of us; I didn’t want anyone knowing where I’d placed them or how many I’d used.

  Cass sighed heavily, stepping foot inside the house. “She really believes her sister is coming.”

  “What did she say?” I asked, hanging the tote bag beside the door.

  She grabbed Jinx from the ground in an embrace. “It’s scary to think someone is doing this to that poor girl.”

 

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