Storm Witch (Wolf Ridge Chaos Witch Book 1)

by Jayne Hawke

  “I told you! The pretty guy’s a fae-witch, which gives him access to twisted magic.”

  Gideon leaned back on the couch and spread his arms along the back of it before he put his feet up on the coffee table.

  “I don’t think that’s what’s happening here.”

  “Why not?”

  I was convinced that’s what we were looking at. There was the fae magic, the weird dark magic we’d never seen before, and the fact that fae were always screwing with witches. It matched up perfectly.

  “Because that isn’t how magic works. Witch magic comes from the gods, you know that. No god would allow their magic to be polluted by fae magic. How would they even bind the two together?”

  Ok, so I didn’t have all of the answers. I was still sure this was the right track.

  “Surely if they’re working with one of the older more malevolent gods, a blood thirsty Mesoamerican god, maybe.”

  Gideon shook his head.

  “This doesn’t have any traces of blood or sacrifice to it. The witches are all found out wandering. Where’s the ritual aspect? Where’s the sacrifice? Those gods are all about sacrifice.”

  He had a point. I took a gulp of my coffee and ran it through my mind.

  “What about one of the primordial gods? Those really old rough-around-the-edges gods?”

  Gideon frowned, and I swore I could see the cogs whirring in his head.

  The really old gods like Nyx were different to work with. Where they were so old and less refined, they had a wildness to them. That was rumoured to give them access to different strands of magic. They were also far more powerful and thus prone to corrupting their witches.

  “That doesn’t explain the fae part. I still don’t think a god would allow their magic to mix with fae magic.”

  I huffed. That fae part was the part that really gave us something to work with, and yet it was also tripping us up.

  “What if this particular solitary witch was part fae, but her own fae magic was dormant? Could this guy have corrupted her fae magic somehow? What if that’s how this god worked? Aren’t there gods of corruption and things?”

  Gideon’s eyes sparked and a smile spread across his face.

  “Yes, yes there are. I don’t remember them off the top of my head, but they do exist. I think it’s safe to bet that this guy won’t be registered, so we can’t just look through the registry. We might be able to track him if we can figure out which god he’s tied to, though.”

  I grinned. We were really onto something now. Once we found this guy, we could remove his head from his shoulders, save the remaining solitary witches, and head home to enjoy a nice long hot bath.

  26

  It turned out we weren’t entirely correct with the gods of corruption. There were gods of vengeance and entropy that could potentially fill that role, though. We sat down with old leather-bound books that Gideon had pulled out of small library just down the hallway.

  “The witch council has been trying to force me to donate my collection to their library for years,” he said smugly.

  I had watched him move along the stacks with grace as he looked over the leather spines with a delicate smile on his face. Everything about him was glowing. He was enjoying this hunt as much as I was. We were getting close now. I just knew it. Once we cracked which god the witch belonged to, everything else would unravel.

  The pages on the books were all ancient and warded to stop them from wear and tear. The illustrations were beautiful, having been painted centuries ago. The colours were vibrant against the soft cream paper. Many museums would have paid a large fortune to own such pieces, and yet Gideon flipped through them as though they were a paperback from the local bookstore.

  We started by looking for gods of entropy. That seemed like the closest thing we could get to corruption. If an entropy god could screw with the fae magic (or the other magic within the witch) then it could in theory produce the type of darkness we were seeing.

  I first came across the Finnish goddess Kalma. She was the goddess of death and decay, which seemed to fit beautifully to me. There wasn’t much to go on. She was a typical death goddess in that she hung out in the underworld and even had a large guard dog much like Cerberus. As I skimmed over the information, I found she was a demi-goddess, not a full goddess. That meant she wouldn’t have enough magic to do what we needed. Sighing, I moved onto the next one.

  “What about the Erinyes?” Gideon asked distractedly.

  “The Furies?”

  “Yes. It’s not a perfect fit, but if these solitary witches had broken an oath, perhaps the Furies would be able to enact vengeance like this.”

  “The pretty guy could be tricking them into oaths they had no choice but to break.”

  “Perhaps, yes.”

  “Are the Furies powerful enough?”

  “I’m not sure, I’m still reading.”

  That didn’t feel right to me. The Furies were ancient, malevolent, but I wasn’t sure that they had the power to interfere with magic like that. I also had a vague memory that suggested they preferred much more hands on and bloody methods of killing.

  The vengeance thing seemed like a good thread to follow, though. I soon came up with Nemesis. The Greek goddess enacted vengeance on those who suffered from hubris, which in her case meant arrogance towards the gods. Excitement burst through me. She was a perfect fit!

  “Ok, I think I have it! Nemesis. She’s the goddess of vengeance against those who get arrogant towards the gods. What if these solitary witches became arrogant and didn’t show enough respect to their gods?”

  Gideon turned to face me entirely. It slowly dawned on him as he thought it through.

  “That does fit rather beautifully...”

  “It does!”

  I got up and paced around the room.

  “What if this pretty guy is grooming them and nudging them towards this hubris? That would explain why they disappear for a month or three before they reappear as these twisted things! He’s whispering in their ear and pushing them to became arrogant against their god. Then once they reach some point or limit, Nemesis can step in and screw with their magic. She’s an old powerful goddess, she might be able to overwrite the protections from the witches’ actual gods!”

  That was a terrifying thought. Our gods were supposed to watch over us and help us remain safe and well in the world. Some were far more caring than others, but when it came down to it they were supposed to step in and help us.

  Gideon leaned back on the couch, and I watched his face as he thought it through.

  “I think you’re onto something here. We’ll begin a search for Nemesis witches and see if we can find any trace of Nemesis on the remains that we have. We need to find this ‘pretty man.’”

  I did a little victory dance. We’d cracked it. Now we just had to find the people involved, and then it’d be wrapped up in a neat bow.

  Gideon let out a soft chuckle as I danced around his office without a scrap of shame.

  “We haven’t finished this yet,” he reminded me.

  “Spoil sport,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him.

  “I have far more interesting things you could be doing with that tongue...”

  I paused and looked at him. He was right, of course, but was I ready to engage in that type of flirting? He grinned unrepentantly at me, and I laughed, allowing the moment to pass.

  “So how does this work? I’m used to working alone. Do you want me to put out feelers on the Grim, or...?”

  “I have a tracking witch on my team. She’ll begin looking for any Nemesis witches in the area. That means we can focus on finding this ‘pretty guy’. Any luck from your contacts on him?”

  I picked up my phone from the coffee table and opened up the Grim.

  There were a number of notifications. A couple of people had suggested names and attached pictures of pretty fae partbreeds, but it had descended into memes and soft porn from people saying what they’d do to the guys. I rolle
d my eyes. Any excuse to dive into the gutter, and they took it.

  “I have a couple of names to check out. They’re fae partbreeds, human and fae mixes. I’ll see if any of them have been in the area. I’m convinced we’re looking for a fae-witch mix though.”

  Gideon shrugged.

  “We follow every lead. You never know what it might turn up.”

  It didn’t feel right. Set’s presence was in the back of my mind, an imposing figure with a blank expression. I was sure he was agreeing with me that we were missing something, but of course he didn’t say a word. Gods forbid he actually help.

  27

  The basement of the security building was huge. A number of morgues and research labs were nestled down there, which struck me as odd for a security firm.

  “We’re doing research into protection, wards, artifacts, and search magic to help us better protect people,” Gideon explained.

  “And the morgues?”

  His expression became solemn.

  “Unfortunately, sometimes things go wrong. The morgues help us understand why and how to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  The space was well-lit and clinical. Black matte painted floors stretched out ahead of us with crisp white walls and wide slate-grey doors interspersed at even distances. I glanced into a couple of rooms, looking through the windows in the doors. Everything was white and chrome. It sent shivers down my spine. The lack of life and personality.

  The people all wore bright smiles that shone in their eyes. I couldn’t imagine working down there beneath the fluorescent lights for hours every day. There wasn’t a touch of nature down there. I hadn’t really thought about how much I needed to be able to stretch my legs and feel the breeze on my face before I walked that corridor.

  Gideon opened the last slate door on the left, and we stepped into a spacious morgue. The metal table sat in the middle of the room with the black oozing remains of another witch. Set stepped forward, and something changed within my magic. The lightning slipped away and left something else behind. I needed to hunt down whoever did this. Set was a protector, I knew that. Yet the overwhelming sense, the desperate need to protect this witch and those like them knocked me for six. It had come out of nowhere.

  Gideon’s fingers wrapped around mine. He gave me a cautious smile and waited. I swallowed, lifted my chin, and approached the remains.

  “My magic has many facets. As a protector, I can help you see where the protection failed this witch,” Set said.

  Slowly, I stretched out my hand, following instincts that I didn’t think were my own. Magic slithered through my hand and dripped down onto the black remains. The morgue doctor watched with fascination as I felt my magic slip between the cracks of darkness and tug at the memories hidden there.

  Swallowing hard, I began to understand. There were vague feelings, whispers of ideas. Nothing concrete, but I knew in my bones.

  “She was possessed. This was corrupted magic. She was a prisoner in her own mind. There was a darkness, a sentient being riding her, using her body like a puppet.”

  Gideon cursed.

  That wasn’t how Nemesis worked. We were back to possession, something that terrified witches for good reason. Corruption had been safer, easier. Coven leaders scared rebellious young witches into behaving by telling them if they didn’t do as they were told they would find the darkness creeping into their rooms at night to possess them.

  “I’ve never met a Set witch before...” the morgue doctor said in awe.

  I turned away, trying to escape from the feeling of being locked away in my mind. The darkness was so vivid. It sat in the witch’s body, a presence that was so physical it was inescapable. There was no fighting it. No access to their own magic or ability to drive it out. There was just a slow, silent death.

  GIDEON HAD WRAPPED his arm around my waist and guided me out of the basement back up into the glass and steel, where I could feel the rain streaming down the windows. The heavy clouds overhead energised me and helped wash away the tang of fear on my tongue.

  Once we were safely back in Gideon’s office with a batch of fresh Danishes, he rubbed my upper arms and ran his hands down to caress my hands.

  “Take control, Sky,” he said in a rough brogue.

  I nodded. He was right, of course he was. This was a gift, but it was also a test. If I didn’t get a grip and control this magic, then it would run rampant and consume me. The gods were dicks, and this was just part of the game.

  Looking out and focusing on the droplets trickling down the glass, I took a hold of the magic within me and bundled it up into a neat little orb. It thrashed and whipped out shards that scurried through my mind, trying to test my barriers. Some tried to slip between the beats of Gideon’s war drum magic, others tried to reach upwards and call down the storm begging to form above us.

  Gritting my teeth, I grasped onto every fragment and packed it away with a firm word. The magic was a part of me now. Over time, it would become no different to a limb, pliable and without fight. Until then, I needed to wrangle it and push it into the shapes and personality that worked best for me.

  Some people argued that magic was, itself, sentient and that was why witches had to go through this. Others said it was just the gods testing us and seeing if we were truly worthy. I leaned towards the latter, but there was a distinct sense of something from this magic. The way it pushed back against me was frustrating and mimicked real desire.

  Gideon pulled me into his arms and rested his head on mine while I calmed myself. Fighting against the magic had brought up the sensations of being locked away in my own mind with that darkness. It was terrifying. My heart hammered against my ribs while trying to claw its way up my throat. My hands had begun shaking at some point. It was every witch’s worst nightmare, and it had been a reality for those poor lost souls.

  28

  Once I had my magic wrangled and where it belonged, I faced the world with a determination I hadn’t felt before. I knew how much those witches had suffered, and I would ensure whoever did it to them would suffer far more. Pacing around Gideon’s office, I told him every little detail I could summon. There wasn’t much. Set’s magic had granted me a few watercolour impressions, nothing truly solid. Besides the fear. That was far too tangible.

  “The being was dark. Truly pitch-black, malevolent dark. Unlike anything I’ve ever come across before. It reeked of havoc, mayhem, destruction. There wasn’t anything fae or witch about it that I could feel. It inhabited the witch’s body the same way you do that suit.”

  I paused my pacing to look out at the town before me. The rain had eased a little and I felt the tiredness creeping in because of it.

  “I don’t have anything more than that. I should have more.”

  Gideon put his arms around my waist and brushed his lips over my temple. It was such a genuine touch that I leaned into him, glad of the sanctuary he provided. His war drum magic caressed my fingertips and helped chase away the frustration and annoyance that was making me too sharp.

  “That helped us. It stopped us from chasing down Nemesis witches and losing the gods only know how many more solitary witches to this. Now we know to look for someone, or something, capable of possession. We need a motive, and a tie between the victims.”

  I was glad we didn’t put much into chasing down the Nemesis idea.

  “What if it was one of the creatures from the between?” I whispered.

  They were thought to be a myth by many, but I had always suspected. On the surface, the supernatural world was split into three factions. The shifters, witches, and fae. There was a fourth, though, I was sure of it. Ones only whispered about and hidden in the dark corners of forbidden books. Those from the between.

  Gideon tensed against me. He held me closer and his magic wrapped around me, holding me safely between the thundering of its beat.

  “They are safely locked away,” he said firmly.

  “There are stories about them having come through before, thou
gh.”

  He sighed softly.

  “Aye, there are.”

  “Someone would have had to let or bring them through.”

  I was horrified at the idea. The creatures from the between, the gap between the planes of existence, were beings of pure darkness and malevolence. No one knew what they looked like. There were drawings of elongated monsters with huge teeth and long clawed fingertips. The proportions were always wrong, and their eyes were always drawn with flat predatory darkness like a shark. A shiver ran down my spine.

  No one knew exactly what they were or how they came to be. Some old scholars thought perhaps they were the origins of the Christian idea of demons. Personally, I thought they were connected to the gods. They were the fragments of unwanted magic, experiments gone wrong that were discarded. The primordial gods worked in dangerous and twisted ways. Who’s to say one or more of them didn’t make the beings in some attempt to balance the wider world?

  What I did know is that if that was what we were dealing with, we were in deep trouble.

  29

  We needed to research what it would take to bring the creatures from the between through. There had to be books, papers, something on them somewhere. It wasn’t the nature of people to leave such things alone. No, the Odin witches or others connected to wisdom would have done some digging.

  My mind was whirring over everything we needed to find and how best to tackle it all. Gideon didn’t have anything of use in his little library. The larger witch library might in the dangerous book section, though. They wouldn’t let me near it, but Gideon had sway. He could get us in. Once we understood what they were, we could figure out how to remove them again. And more importantly, make the twisted piece of work that had brought this all about suffer.