Grave Witch

by Kalayna Price

Page 13

  Author: Kalayna Price

  They say that before the Magical Awakening, technology had made the world a smaller place. I think the saying had something to do with communication, and wasn’t meant to be literal, but one thing was certain: the resurgence of magic made the world bigger. The fae called the new areas that appeared “folded spaces” and claimed the land had always been there—mortals simply hadn’t perceived it before. Nekros City was built in the very center of such a space.

  Inside the city and the surrounding suburbs, Nekros wasn’t unlike any other city in America, but in the country, things were different. Wilder legends haunted the forests, and creatures of old were rumored to live in the floodplains below the city. The very air seemed untamed, as if it resented the growing human influence.

  I kept my doors locked as my car kicked up dust on the dirt roads. After I crossed the Sionan River on an old stone bridge rumored to predate the Magical Awakening, I angled north, reentering the city. Then I took back roads into the warehouse district in the south of the city.

  By the time I reached the address Roy had given me, almost two hours had passed, but at least I knew no one had followed me. I glanced at my phone as I climbed out of the car. I wished I could call John and run everything by him. But I can’t, and even if he were out of the hospital, he wouldn’t know what to make of Roy’s story.

  I certainly didn’t.

  Looking up at the sprawling warehouse in front of me, I crossed the gravel pit I’d parked in. I kept telling people I was a PI, not just a magic eye, so it was time to start investigating.

  Roy had told me that the loading docks were covered with aluminum siding, and that one of the sheets of aluminum in the center dock was loose, providing easy entrance to the bay where the ritual had been performed.

  Finding the dock wasn’t a problem, but moving the panel with one hand in a brace wasn’t the easiest thing I’d ever done.

  The panel screeched as I dragged it across the cement dock bed, but I couldn’t budge it more than a foot. Well, here goes. I shimmied through the hole I’d opened and was consumed by the gloom encasing the old warehouse.

  I blinked, trying to give my eyes time to adjust. Slowly, mounds of dilapidated and forgotten crates came into focus. I made my way around the closest. There must be five years of dust on this thing. Could anyone have been here recently?

  I knelt, peering down at the dust around my feet.

  There were definitely more shoe prints than just mine in the room. Could belong to vagrants escaping the elements.

  Or, Roy could be telling the truth.

  I crept around several more crates. Nothing moved in the gloom. No sound but my own clunky boots on the cement floor. I stepped over a rotted piece of plywood.

  Shadows clung everywhere, but the place looked undisturbed.

  A chill crossed my neck, and I jumped. Whirling around, I found myself face to face with Roy.

  “I was wondering if you’d join me,” I said.

  He smiled and said something I couldn’t hear. It looked a lot like “This way,” and considering he stepped around me and headed for the door set in the inner wall, I assumed that was it.

  “Okay, you lead,” I said, falling in step behind him.

  I don’t know what I expected to find in the next room.

  A body, maybe. Though I guess that didn’t make sense, as Coleman/Roy’s body had already turned up, and the other body was off walking around. What I didn’t expect was to find nothing.

  Literally nothing.

  The room had no boxes. No scattered wood beams. No broken crates. There wasn’t even dust on the floor. The massive room was just a large empty cavern lit by a couple of skylights in the roof.

  Roy walked to the center of the room and gestured to the floor as if to say “here. ” I frowned at him. This wasn’t useful. This wasn’t … anything. It was just a big empty room.

  I stepped farther inside, and a tingle of magic brushed my bare arms. My breath caught in my throat. The touch of magic was oily, sinister, but it wasn’t active. Whatever I was feeling was a residual taint left by a ritual. The magic brushed against me again, as if tasting me, and the scratch wounds on my shoulder ached. Oh, I don’t like the feeling of this. Which, of course, meant I had to dig deeper.

  I was a natural sensitive, nowhere near Tamara’s level, but I had a knack for locating and deducing the purpose of spells. If only I could cast half of what I sensed.

  This spell, though, whatever had happened here, my mind tried to shy away from. Maybe my subconscious is smarter than me. I took several more steps into the room. The residual magic wrapped around me. It felt slimy, like being tangled in seaweed.

  I crinkled my nose and closed my eyes, focusing on the spent magic that had been absorbed by the floor, the walls. The taint of magic swirled around me. More than one spell, one ritual, had to have been cast here. The chaotic jumble of magic battered my shields, each touch leaving behind a film of darkness. The spark of the inactive circle was directly in front of me, and I stepped across it.

  I shouldn’t have.

  The magic, which had only tainted the air before, roared like a tempest inside the circle. Still inactive. Still spent. But it crashed over me. Terror tore at me. Not my terror, not yet, but something outside trying to get in.

  Echoes of screams roared in my ears, and the scratch on my shoulder turned cold, like a dagger of ice ripping into my flesh, hitting my soul.

  The taste of bile filled my mouth, and my eyes flew open. I was still in the empty room. Nothing was here.

  Nothing but the memory of a spell that was trying to rip me apart. And it’s not even active.

  I backed up all the way out the door, out of the reach of the magic. My breathing was ragged, and I forced myself to draw in a lungful of air. Hold it until the count of three. Let it out. I repeated the exercise three times before I felt confident I could speak. “I’ve seen enough. ”

  Roy frowned at me, and whatever he said was clearly a protest to my leaving.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling chilled despite the heat wave. “I believe you, okay? It’s time to go. ” Because I wasn’t going back in that room. Whatever magic had been worked in there had been big. Big and dark, and quite definitely evil.

  ———

  PC met me at the door, his plumed tail wagging. I dropped my purse on the counter and scooped him up. He needed a bath; oil coated his gray skin, and the white crest on his head hung in limp clumps. I put bathing him on my list of things to do after I talked to Casey, saw John, and researched Roy’s story. Oh, and tried to figure out what kind of spell would allow someone to steal bodies. Not necessarily in that order.

  PC wriggled in my arms. I plopped him down, and he ran to his bowl, staring at the emptiness inside. He wasn’t a fan of his recent switch from free feeding to rationed kibble.

  “Yeah, I’m hungry too,” I told him. It was early for dinner, but breakfast hadn’t happened for me, and lunch had been chips. I grabbed the bag of far-too-quicklydiminishing dog food and measured out half a scoop for PC. Then I pulled open the fridge. I had an empty carton of cream, a pickle, and a single hot dog.

  I grabbed the hot dog PC had already finished his kibble, so I ripped off the top third of the hot dog and tossed it to him before taking a large bite of the remainder. Mmmm, reprocessed and unidentifiable meat product. I bit off another mouthful.

  At my feet, PC whined, yipping again.

  “I outweigh you, mutt. ”

  He lifted his front paws, crossing them in the air. One paw hung funny where it emerged from the bright blue cast.

  “Fine. ” I tossed him another piece of the hot dog.

  Stuffing the last bite in my mouth, I opened my laptop and typed “Roy Pearson” into the search box. I ran a records check, searching for speeding tickets, marriage applications, land purchases—anything that would have been uploaded
to the net as public record. As I sifted through the mostly erroneous results, I couldn’t help thinking that Rianna, my roommate and best friend from the best years I’d spent at academy, would have been thrilled by this case. We were both grave witches and had decided to open a PI business after we both graduated, but she’d been the one gung-ho about becoming some sort of super sleuth. I’d been the one who went along with the idea mostly because I couldn’t not raise shades, so I figured I might as well get paid for doing it. But by the time I’d graduated from college, Rianna had disappeared. Searching for her had put everything I’d learned about being a private investigator to the test, but I’d never found a trace of her. Sometimes people just vanished—which usually meant they were dead. Like Roy. The only legitimate hit in my search for the ghost was a missing persons report. Filed twelve years ago. Damn. Everything Roy said could be true.

  Three loud bangs on my door jerked my attention away from the computer screen. If that’s a reporter …

  PC growled, charging the closed door and barking—not that anyone would be afraid of a seven-pound hairless dog with a pretty white crest on his head and cute white puffs on his feet. PC didn’t know that, though. I peeked around the curtain in the door and groaned.

  Pasting on a smile, I jerked it open.

  “Can I help you, Detective?”

  Falin stepped around me, shoving his way into my little loft. His eyes scanned the room.

  “Hey, I didn’t invite you in. ”

  He grunted and walked a circuit around the room.

  His gaze traveled over the clothes piled in front of my dresser, my unmade bed, and the dishes in my sink, and finally stopped on my laptop. He stepped forward, tilting the screen back so the angle was better for a standing person.

  “Hey!” I slammed the lid shut. “Was there something you wanted?”

  I’d talked to Holly, and we were pretty sure I couldn’t be arrested for attempting to raise Coleman’s shade. Oh, the executives of his estate could sue me, though what would they take? My broken TV? But I didn’t think Falin was here to arrest me. At least, I hoped not.

  His jaw clenched, making his lips purse, and he looked around again. This was starting to feel a lot like an illegal search and seizure. PC sniffed Falin’s leg, looked up at the tall man, sniffed again, and then apparently decided Falin was no threat and launched himself onto the bed.