The Hex Files: Wicked Moon Rising

by Gina LaManna

  “I don’t understand why anyone else can’t see or hear you,” Willa said. “And frankly, I can see your body there, mum. But you sound just as chipper as ever. Did I faint? Am I dead?”

  I reached forward, pinched the back of Willa’s arm lightly. “You’re not dead.”

  She swatted me away and murmured, “Shhh.”

  I silenced and watched Willa’s exchange with the blank space.

  The look on Willa’s face changed, no longer quite as surprised, quite as confused. She settled into her chair looking distraught and upset.

  “But that’s not fair,” she murmured. “Why would you have to die? You can’t die, mum! I need you in my life! They can’t take you away from me!”

  I didn’t interfere because Willa was so intent in her dialogue that I wondered if this was some sort of healing process, a way for her to let her mother go. The idea of her mother’s ghost hanging out in the room flitted through my mind, but I dismissed it.

  As far as I knew, ghosts weren’t a real, tangible thing. Except maybe in rare occasions of haunted houses, and then, it wasn’t like people shouted exchanges with them across a hospital bed.

  “Why, mum? Why you? Why me?” Silent tears streamed down Willa’s face. “It’s just not fair. I don’t care about fate. I care about me and you.”

  The line about fate jarred me. As I’d read in Willa’s file, she would have to face the deepest dark to find the bright. I suspected this might be fate coming true. But what was the bright?

  “What is she saying?” I asked quietly.

  “You believe me?” Willa’s lip trembled. “You believe I can see her?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” I said. “But yes, I believe you.”

  “She’s saying that things had to happen this way,” Willa explained. “That she had to die so I could come into my powers. But that makes no sense at all because I’ve never shown a lick of witchiness in my life.”

  “What if this is your power?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve heard of an ancient form of magic,” I said, sitting straighter in my seat. “It’s called Spirit Vision. I’ve only heard rumors, but they say that whoever has the gift can see spirits that linger behind on earth.”

  Willa gaped at me like a large-mouthed bass. “You’re joking.”

  I shook my head. “I have no clue if that’s what this is, but it could be your gift. You might have just realized it. Willa, there’s a prophecy that you are a part of, and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner.”

  Willa soundlessly pointed at herself.

  “Yes, you,” I confirmed. “The Hex Files. Just recently, we found the second file, and your name is on it. You’re one of us,” I said. “Me, you, and Grey.”

  Willa looked up to the ceiling. “I can’t believe that’s true.”

  “Well, believe it,” I said. “The prophecy said you’d seek bright in the deepest dark. I think this might be your dark, Willa, and that might have brought on your powers. Because you didn’t give up.”

  She turned back to her mother’s spirit, and asked, “Mum, is that true?”

  A few moments of silence passed.

  Then Willa responded. “Does that mean you’re stuck on earth? Are you here to haunt me?”

  When the conversation finished, Willa turned to me.

  “She says she’s still here because she’s not finished helping me,” Willa said. “She’ll stick around for some time. I wish you could see her.”

  “I wish so, too,” I said. “Maybe in the future your powers will grow, and you can help me to see her.”

  Willa just nodded, still dumbfounded. She waved a hand dismissively at her mom’s body. “I feel like I should be mourning,” Willa said when she turned back. “But my mom just told me I look like a mess, and I need a shower. She also told me she’s watching Jack, and he’d better keep his hands to himself.”

  I stifled a snort. “That does sound like your mother.”

  “How can I mourn when the nagging won’t stop?” Willa turned back to her mother. “I know, mum! Jiminy Crickets, you just died. Give me a break, will you?”

  “What’d she say this time?”

  “That I’m wasting time sniveling over her, and I should get my butt in gear so I can help you,” Willa said. “I guess... um... maybe this is real.”

  “I guess so,” I said. “Willa, this is a little sensitive, but can you ask your mother who attacked her?”

  Willa’s eyes gleamed with understanding. “Holy guacamole! Mum, did you hear that?”

  I waited, holding my breath, wondering if Willa’s new talent had just secured her a high-paying spot on the Sixth Precinct’s payroll. After all, the ability to ask a murder victim who killed them would solve a lot of problems.

  “Oh, mum.” Tears sprang to Willa’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know; I didn’t even realize. Yes, we’ll get him. I swear to you.”

  “Did she give you a name?” I asked Willa. “Where is he? Who is he?”

  “He’s right here in the hospital.” Willa’s jawline set. “And if we don’t stop him quickly, he’s going to kill again.”

  Chapter 31

  Matthew strolled past the pizzeria and glanced through the windows as he walked. He was hopeful he’d find Dani there, tucked safely at home, but he knew better. He’d already sensed she wasn’t there, but DeMarco’s Pizza was on the way to the hospital, and that’s where he was headed.

  Matthew had debated chasing after Grey, but he’d decided to give the guy a break. Grey needed to come to terms with his fate, and if it were Matthew, he’d want to do it alone.

  Sooner or later, Grey’s love for Danielle would bring him back. Not in a romantic sense, Matthew predicted, but because he cared. And so long as The Hex Files existed, she wouldn’t be safe.

  Matthew knew from experience that Grey wouldn’t be able to stand himself if anything happened to Danielle while he was away. He’d felt the same way when Dani had been with Trenton. Sooner or later, the wolf would return.

  In the meantime, Matthew had to get to the root of the terrorizing in Wicked. Then, he’d hunt relentlessly for the last of the files. It would be a race against time. The protectors needed all of the files in order to complete their task, and Matthew was involved whether his name was in one of them or not.

  Matthew quickened his pace and made it across the borough in minutes. He slowed as he passed the Sixth Precinct and looked toward a commotion on the front steps.

  “There he is!” An unfamiliar man dressed in an all-black uniform pointed toward Matthew. “Captain King?”

  Matthew stopped walking, eyeing the letters on the man’s chest. He was from the NYPD’s magical version of the SWAT team. Normally, these men and women were only called out to deal with major paranormal forces wreaking havoc on human civilizations, or to clean up messes when magic was exposed on a large scale.

  The only other time they were called to help was when they were after a target deemed highly dangerous and ‘above the normal call of duty’ for a regular cop. If they were in Wicked, something had gone horribly wrong.

  “Yes,” Matthew said blandly. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Captain King?” The man’s badge read R. Wiley. “You are under arrest.”

  “For what?” Matthew was far more curious than intimidated. His speed alone could clear any of these fools in seconds.

  Wiley blinked, looking surprised that Matthew offered no resistance. “For the attack on Lieutenant Watters.”

  “What attack?”

  Wiley shifted his weight from one foot to the next. “There was an eyewitness, sir, stating you attacked Lieutenant Watters in her hotel this evening.”

  “I don’t know where Watters is staying,” Matthew said mildly. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that’s a ridiculous claim.”

  “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you not to resist.”

  “I’m not resisting anything,” Matthew said. “I’ll go with you if you’d lik
e, but I’m warning you that’s a very bad idea.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Wiley puffed himself up, finally getting the confrontation he’d been looking for. “Look here, bloodsucker. We’re—”

  Matthew stepped toward Wiley and raised a hand to the SWAT officer’s neck before Wiley could say anything. The movement was so quick it knocked the breath out of Wiley, though Matthew didn’t do anything except tap on the man’s name badge. A friendly sort of tap.

  “Wiley,” Matthew said, deliberately lingering over the name. “Who’s this eyewitness that claims I somehow let myself into the lieutenant’s quarters and attacked her? Where is the lieutenant? Surely she can answer for herself.”

  “The lieutenant is unconscious.”

  “And you can’t wait for her to wake up before you make an arrest?” Matthew suggested lightly. “I have business to attend to. I’d be happy to come in with you if, perhaps, I had actually committed the crime you mentioned. But, you see, I haven’t.”

  “If you resist,” Wiley said. “That will only make things worse. We have weapons, vamp. Weapons that will take you down.”

  Matthew glanced over Wiley’s shoulder and saw no less than thirteen other SWAT officers approaching. All of them were armed to some degree. Matthew heaved a sigh, feeling suddenly quite tired, despite the fact he needed no sleep.

  It was exhausting having to perpetually defend himself to the very borough he’d sworn his life to protect. He’d never once done anything to put the public in jeopardy. If anyone should be wary of him after something he’d done, it was Danielle DeMarco. The one person who believed in him.

  “I don’t want any trouble.” Matthew’s voice was dark as he spoke, and he didn’t bother to hide the glamour that slipped out. His natural defenses kicked in, though he fought back the urge to let his fangs descend. After all, he was a predator. And he had been cornered.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Nash jogged down the steps of the precinct. He had to dodge around the SWAT members fanning out around Matthew, primed for attack. “Put your stupid spells down. Matthew’s stronger than all of you.”

  “We have permission to use whatever means necessary to bring him in,” Wiley snarled to Nash. “And we plan on doing just that.”

  Matthew knew there were spells that could harm him, knock him unconscious. One had been used against him in the most recent attack in his bedroom. He didn’t want to go through that all over again.

  “Lieutenant DeMarco, leave it alone,” Matthew said. “They’re convinced I’ve attacked Lieutenant Watters.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Nash turned toward the group of SWAT members displaying that DeMarco fearlessness Matthew so often admired in his sister. “Get out of here. Captain King is the best man on the force. You arrest him, you might as well take me in, too.”

  “Then get in line, DeMarco,” Wiley sneered. “I know all about you. No doubt your sister will be next. One little happy family locked up together. You’ll get sent to The Isle, no doubt. Let the Rangers lock you up.”

  Matthew snorted a laugh, thinking that any trip to The Isle would be a vacation for him. A few words with Ranger X and the record would no doubt be cleared.

  “You think this is funny, King?” Wiley asked. “Get the Fang Freeze spell ready, Boots.”

  The SWAT officer named Boots raised his hands, but not before Matthew brushed him off with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

  “There’s no need to take Nash. I’ll come with you willingly,” Matthew said. “If you answer one question.”

  “Don’t do it, Captain,” Nash said, eyeing him. “You’re innocent. We all know it. You’re being framed and taking you off the streets is only going to hurt Wicked.”

  “Your question?” Wiley prompted. He dangled a pair of black, magic-proof handcuffs from his fingers.

  “Who’s the eyewitness?”

  Wiley smiled, stepped forward. He gestured for Matthew to spin around and, as he clamped the handcuffs over King’s wrists, he murmured next to his ear. “Chief Lemont.”

  “Chief Lemont?” Matthew snapped to attention, which sent Wiley flying backward from the movement. “DeMarco—you got that?”

  “Shut up, King,” Boots said, looking uneasily between Nash and Matthew. “Or I’ll shut you up myself.”

  Nash looked to Matthew, their eyes locking. Nash gave a nod.

  “Find her,” Matthew instructed. “Then Grey.”

  As Matthew finished his command, he looked over at Boots just in time to see the officer raise his hands. Matthew barely had time to brace himself before the spell hit him hard in the chest, and the world disappeared.

  Chapter 32

  “How quickly?” I asked Willa as she led the way down the hospital hallway. I’d thought to leave a note for Jack, but Willa insisted we didn’t have time. Plus, as Jack didn’t have many powers, it was safer for him to stay behind. “I’m calling Matthew.”

  Willa flicked her wrist as if it didn’t matter either way who I called. I could see from the tension in her jawline that she wanted the murdering bastard for herself.

  “Did you know Watters was attacked?” Willa asked, stopping briefly at one of the nurse’s desks to ask for the room of Sherry Watters. “My mum said she was admitted twenty minutes ago.”

  “I hadn’t heard.” I raised the Comm to my lips and called for Matthew. There was no answer, but I wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t been wearing his device since he’d suspected the precinct of tracking him.

  I debated calling Chief Newton but worried that his Comm lines might be tapped. After all, the name Willa’s mother had whispered belonged to a high-ranking member of the NYPD.

  “What else did your mother say?” I asked. “Did she have any more information about the attacks?”

  Willa went silent for a moment. At my curious expression, she shrugged and thumbed to her right. “Mum’s coming along for the ride. She says we need to talk and walk—er, float—to prevent Lemont from doing more damage than he’s already done.”

  Arthur Lemont, I mused. NYPD Chief of Police. Renowned activist. Humanitarian. Awarded multiple medals of honor. And now, cold-blooded murderer.

  “Oh, no, mom.” Willa stopped walking. “Why didn’t I think of that? I’m so, so sorry. What a bloody idiot! I am the worst daughter in the world. I’m so sorry.”

  “What’s she saying?”

  Willa turned to me, teary. “She just told me that when Arthur attacked her at home, he thought she was me. I guess he was probably trying to get rid of me—must have heard or somehow found out that I was tied to The Hex Files, same as you. But he screwed up, and now she’s dead because of me.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said firmly. “Lemont’s a killer. He would have killed whether it was you, your mom, or someone else—he’s tried to kill others, and he’ll succeed if we don’t stop him. Please, Willa, stay with me. It’s what your mom would want.”

  “I know what my mom wants!” Willa said. “I can hear her bloody screaming the same things you are in my ear. Just... pipe down, mother okay?”

  I smiled awkwardly into thin air, as if to silently thank Kady for her help. Willa watched me curiously.

  “You know she can hear you, right?” Willa said finally. “If you just talk, she can respond to me.”

  I nodded. Willa waited expectantly, so I turned to thin air and said, “Thank you, Kady. And I’m very sorry this happened to you.”

  Willa winced. “Close, but she’s over there.”

  I flicked my gaze sixty degrees to the left and gave another uncomfortable smile and relaunched our journey to Watters’s room.

  “She’s telling me that Lemont came here and upped her medicines,” she said. “Mom was unconscious when he did it, but she died while he was in the room, so she saw him immediately after. I guess he was dressed as a doctor or something because I don’t remember even seeing him. Then again, I was pretty oblivious to everything, and Jack was only paying attention to me. Shut up, mum—I heard that.
Jack is a nice man and he wasn’t fiddling with anything, least of all my heart. He loves me, and I love him.”

  The declaration sounded strange out loud, but while Willa’s cheeks turned pink, she didn’t retract her statement.

  “Anyway, Lemont attacked my mom first at home, then here,” Willa said. “I guess he didn’t want her waking up and tattling on him. Though how he thought he could get away with it, I’ve no clue. Mum thinks Lemont is going to do the same thing to Watters.”

  “If he’s after the files, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep the borough under attack and the rest of us distracted. In fact, I’m nearly positive he’s responsible for Sienna’s injuries, too. She must have been onto him.”

  Willa nodded along.

  “And I wouldn’t be surprised if he is responsible for Matthew’s wounds, one way or another.”

  “We’ll find out when we catch him,” Willa said grimly. “There’s Watters’s room. What’s our plan?”

  Before we could come up with something brilliant and remarkable, there was a scream from inside, and Willa and I froze. We exchanged one look with each other, and then lunged forward, throwing the door open and barging into the space.

  “Lemont.” I stared down the chief of the NYPD. He was wearing scrubs, as Willa had predicted, and he held a syringe in hand that sparkled with Residuals. “Drop it, and we’ll let you live.”

  “Not so fast, Dani,” Willa said, raising her hands. “I didn’t agree to that.”

  Arthur Lemont raised both of his hands. I wondered vaguely if we should’ve called for security or other backup, but there just wasn’t time. The tip of the syringe had nearly punctured Watters’s arms. It would only take seconds for Lemont to kill her.

  As for Watters, her head lolled lifelessly to the side. She was torn up from scratches, but a different sort than the werewolf attacks that had plagued Matthew and Kady. On her neck were two pinpricks, and around them, heavy bruising.