Bound by Sorcery: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (The Half-Goddess Chronicles Book 1)

by Antara Mann

  “I see you are better. Sorry, Brendan, I didn’t mean to hurt you or—”

  I tried to explain, but Brendan angrily cut me off. “That could have killed us, Alex! Have you forgotten that we shifters are also susceptible to silver? What possessed you to blast a huge explosion of silver right under our noses?”

  “I have to agree with the sergeant on this issue. This was really freaking scary, Alex. It even made me feel sick. Next time, better warn us,” the fae said.

  “Okay — sorry, guys, really. I didn’t intend to, it just happened sort of… naturally,” I apologized.

  But I heard Brendan cursing under his breath and saying, “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”

  I hurried to add, “I won’t do anything like that again, I promise. Are we friends again?”

  Brendan reluctantly accepted my apologies, and he and Carlos began to regain their powers. In a few more minutes they would be fine. I looked around the vast hall and felt an inexplicable desire to go upstairs. I headed to the staircase at the far side of the hall. The second floor looked almost identical to the first, except for an old cupboard, a messy bed, and a table on which there were remnants of a meal.

  “It seems like the lion’s den,” I said, and felt the fae’s presence near me. I looked at him. He was examining the furniture. On a hunch I went to the cupboard and cautiously opened it. Something swished and a sense of dread washed over me. I ducked, shouting at the top of my lungs, “Watch out!”

  An arrow struck the wall behind me.

  “Excellent reflexes, mate,” Kagan commented, plucking the arrow from the wall. “This could have easily gone through your head.” As he held it in his hands, I saw the glistening moisture on its edge. Was that really…?

  “Yes, it is poison, indeed.” He stared into my eyes as if he was calculating who would have wanted to kill me. “And a lethal one on that.”

  “Hey, what’s up there, guys? What did we miss?” Brendan and Carlos came over to us, still a bit dizzy, but definitely much better. At least they had stopped staggering and their skin color looked almost normal.

  I replied, “A booby-trap. Let’s hope that was all there is.” I peeked into the cupboard and saw scattered papers with notes scribbled on them.

  “What does it say?” Next to me, Kagan glanced at the writings.

  “Mm, it’s mostly ingredients: black cow’s milk, a two-tailed lizard, Egyptian weasel, ibis,” I read aloud, careful not to touch anything.

  “It seems like someone is preparing for some sort of a ritual,” the fae remarked.

  “Oh guys, you should totally see this,” Carlos exclaimed, and we all turned our heads toward him. He was holding some ancient-looking scrolls, using a cloth to protect the delicate parchment. Somehow the scrolls reminded me of some of the books in Awen’s vast library. “It’s in Egyptian hieroglyphs, and I don’t like the feel of it at all.”

  “Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, like from the time of Osiris and Isis?” I asked.

  Carlos nodded.

  “Can you read it?” Brendan asked, coming over.

  “I can give it a try, at the very least. I was taught Egyptian hieroglyphs back at the shifter academy in Rio de Janeiro.”

  The tiger looked back at the book, frowned and read a few lines, then translated them. It was all basically ingredients, just like the ones I had read in the papers scattered around. Carlos skipped a few more lines, his lips silently moving as he read. He brought his gaze back at us, paused, and exclaimed, “Holy shit! This describes a sacrificial ritual!”

  “What?” Brendan and I said at the same time. The words ‘sacrificial ritual’ screamed trouble — very bad shit indeed.

  “Yes. Alarming as it sounds, this is what’s written in here.” He pointed at some hieroglyphs in the book, none of which made any sense to me. I had greater success in understanding men than Egyptian hieroglyphs.

  “It says that the deaths of three innocents are required for the ritual. Their blood has to be mixed with black cow’s milk, a two-tailed lizard, Egyptian weasel, black dog’s blood, and ibis. Myrrh and frankincense are to be burned as well. The ritual occurs at the full moon, at its zenith. A long list of incantations follows, names of Egyptian gods and the like. There’s also some incantation verses that have to be chanted seven times.”

  “Great,” Brendan said sarcastically. “Does it say why? What’s the purpose of the ritual?”

  Carlos paused and read further in the book. By the way wrinkles had formed on his otherwise handsome face, he was putting a lot of effort into it.

  “I don’t see any explanation as to why, but I bet good money it’s for some dark, very nasty purpose… Wait. Oh boy. This is bad — really, really bad.” He turned to us, shock written all over his face. I felt my heartbeat quicken.

  “One of the victims has to be a goddess. And her heart has to be sacrificed, too, along with her blood.”

  Chapter 17

  “Wait, what?” I choked at his words, taken aback by the new information. “What kind of sick mind would want a goddess’s heart? This is twisted!”

  “Yes, it is — you’re absolutely right. But don’t forget, we are dealing with a sick, perverted supernatural, probably a sorcerer. And perverted not in the sexual context, but a magically perverted supernatural — which is much, much worse,” Kagan said. He turned to Brendan. “I’m going to inform the Council about these events right away. They need to know. I also need to warn the Court of Heaven. The goddesses are obviously in danger. Brendan, see if you can find any of the human’s fingerprints on the papers and furniture,” the fae ordered the werewolf. “We have to find him. They ought to be here.” Brendan pursed his lips nervously and I sensed anger and dark clouds forming around his aura. He didn’t like the fae bossing him around at all. But he had no choice: Kagan was in charge of our investigation, and Brendan knew that very well.

  Despite his anger, Brendan nodded. After pulling on a pair of latex gloves to protect the evidence, he scooped up the sheets of paper we had found to check them for fingerprints, while Carlos checked the table and the empty plastic bags. Kagan, in the meantime, stepped aside and closed his eyes. I instinctively felt his elemental powers tingling and tackling my skin — all the four elements exploded in me and I felt strangely invigorated and agitated. The fae had connected with the Magic Council a few days ago, but I hadn’t felt it then like I did now. Maybe because of the waxing gibbous moon, which was strangely intertwined with my magic and its activity. I knew that, if I wanted to, I could eavesdrop on his mental conversation with the Council: I was that powerful now. There was no need to, though: He was simply relaying the latest development on our case.

  “So, basically we have less than four days to stop the sacrificial ritual and slaughter of a goddess,” I said, looking back at Brendan and Carlos. The werewolf had found and taken some fingerprints, and the faces of both shifters were grim. For the first time we realized the sick nature of the culprit we were after: He wasn’t simply killing innocent humans, but wanted to kill gods and goddesses also.

  I turned to the shifters and asked, “Do you think the other victims needed for this ritual are the two murder cases we’ve been working on? Can the culprit use blood that has already been spilled, or does he need the victims to be freshly killed right before or during the ritual?”

  “That’s a good question. What’s written there?” Kagan had finished his mental talk with the Council. Carlos studied the hieroglyphs for a few more minutes, and I noticed tiny droplets of sweat forming on his neck and forehead. It must have been pretty difficult to read Egyptian.

  “Well, nowhere it is specified that the sacrifices need to be performed right before the ritual,” the tiger concluded.

  “So that leaves the possibility that our two murder cases could be part of this ritual which should be taking place in four days,” I mused aloud. If that was true, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together.

  “That would explain why the culprit ha
s carved the Holy Order of Shadows’ symbol on the bank manager’s and the homeless man’s bodies: First to point us in the wrong direction and create strife between the two courts, and second to take some of their blood for the performance of the ritual later,” Kagan said.

  The information left a bad taste in my mouth. This stuff was making me feel sick to my stomach. An uneasy silence fell over the room.

  Kagan broke it by adding, “The Magic Council thanks us for warning them. The Morrigan’s going to talk to the other gods and goddesses, and they’ll call us in when they have a plan.”

  We spent another half an hour looking for further evidence. Unfortunately we didn’t find anything else of interest here. The fae took the book and the sheets of paper, placing them in evidence bags. As he was sliding the paper into the bags, I spotted an occult symbol on one of the sheets: the triquetra symbol, but inverted. I was sure I had seen it somewhere else before. I just couldn’t put my finger on where or when. It must have been in our shop, the Steaming Cauldron. Or maybe it was the logo of some coven? I couldn’t remember.

  Turning to Brendan, I asked, “Hey, do you see this symbol?” and showed him the little sign on the paper.

  He frowned and asked, “Yeah, what about it?”

  “Have you seen it somewhere, maybe at the Temple of Isis coven?”

  “Jeez, Alex. There were no meetings today, I told you that already,” he snapped irritably.

  “Oh right. I forgot. Then maybe at Desmond’s occult shop?”

  The werewolf studied the sign intently for a few seconds more before deciding, “No, I don’t recognize it; why?”

  “Never mind.” I decided to drop this lead and not say anything to the fae — it could mean nothing and I couldn’t link it to the investigation. At least not at this stage.

  Kagan transported us back to Manhattan and gave the fingerprints we had found in the run-down factory to the Magic Council. In just a few hours they had identified them, and Kagan relayed the findings to us. The fingerprints all belonged to one man: Paul Robbins, age twenty-three, a resident of Cleveland, Ohio. That was more than four hundred miles from NYC, or about an eight-hour drive. The man had no criminal record, not even a parking fine. His file photo matched the guy we chased, though.

  “Maybe he’s possessed?” Carlos suggested back at Kagan’s apartment. The fae’s place served us as a working office. We stopped off here to eat and get some rest while Kagan met with the Council representative. His apartment was splendid — right in the heart of Manhattan and the interior made us feel at home.

  “That bartender at the Hellfire Club said his name was Jimmy,” Carlos continued musing. “Maybe the sorcerer or the culprit — if they are two different persons — made him believe in a false identity?”

  “It’s hard to determine at this stage. This guy Robbins could have been tricked by a sorcerer — he might have promised him special powers or threatened him in some way. Either way, a lot of humans — and supernaturals, for that matter—are being deceived by dark forces,” Brendan said.

  “Possessed or not, Paul or Jimmy, I want this man caught and behind iron bars! And the Magic Council and both Courts want him as well,” Kagan growled. “This guy is guilty of helping and serving an evil mastermind and must take the consequences for it.” Kagan’s temper had been at its peak ever since he’d returned from his meeting with the Council representative. I had never seen him so fierce. I could only guess at what they had talked about, but it was clear it hadn’t been a pleasant conversation.

  “I keep thinking about the link between the Egyptian hieroglyphs we found,” I said, “the coven in my own town — the Temple of Isis — also having an Egyptian connection, and the coven’s leader, Desmond Cohen. Naomi and I both felt a dark energy in his aura. Not to mention that he had an issue of Forbes with Kagan on the cover. That can’t be all just silly coincidences.”

  “What are you getting at?” Kagan turned to me, all ears.

  “I do think that maybe that boy, Paul — or Jimmy, whatever — is a member of that coven, and the most logical conclusion is that Desmond is behind all this.”

  The werewolf laughed derisively. “Alex, of all the stupid things I have heard, this takes the cake.”

  “Is it really that stupid?” I bared my teeth.

  “Yes, and I’ll tell you why: The guy you despise so much, Desmond, strikes me as a decent fellow. True, there were dark overtones in his aura, but that doesn’t mean anything. Besides, my shifter sense confirmed that he was telling the truth. Carlos, you were with me too — please tell Miss Shaw that Desmond told us the truth.”

  The tiger confirmed Brendan’s statement, and I was puzzled: Could my hunch and inner voice be wrong?

  What did you get me into? I scolded the inner voice.

  I never said he’s a murderer, only that he’s odd. There’s a big difference, the voice replied.

  Oh, shut the fuck up, I replied irritably.

  “I know you want to put the blame on that guy because he’s your competitor and steals your customers, but that’s not really the way. I seriously doubt Desmond has committed the two murders,” Brendan continued.

  “He doesn’t steal our customers,” I retorted.

  Oh, please, the voice began, but I told it to shut up again.

  “You two — stop it. Alex raised some valid points, so we’re going to investigate the coven on Thursday, which is in two days’ time,” Kagen ruled, and the matter was settled.

  We spent the next day making inquiries about the abandoned factory, but it didn’t help us. The factory was built in the late nineteenth century by some prominent Protestant industrialist as a steel enterprise and, after the Second World War, went bankrupt. The owners weren’t supernaturals and had nothing to do with the dark powers of the universe. Or at least so it seemed. We got the coroner’s report on the second murder and according to it, the homeless guy was killed between one and two a.m. that night. The surveillance footage didn’t reveal anything of interest, either. The question was why the culprit had hidden the body in a dumpster. We also went yet again through the notes Carlos kept about the two murders and through Christina’s diary, but they weren’t of any help.

  The next afternoon, we visited the Hellfire Club, this time to question the club’s owner — the greedy leprechaun we’d met on our first visit. The Magic Council had seen to it that he and his employees would cooperate with us. We questioned the leprechaun about our suspect, Paul Robbins, and the sorcerer known as the Rune Keeper, but he didn’t know anything about them.

  “Seriously, how do you bigwigs at the Magic Council expect me to remember all my customers? This is insanity. The Rune Keeper? Jeez, there are as many nicknames as there are stars in the night sky. And I wouldn’t bother remembering some small fish like that guy Robbins, anyway.”

  “He probably came in with that powerful sorcerer, the Rune Keeper.”

  “I don’t care if he came here with Kai or even Lucifer himself! I can’t remember, I already told you,” the leprechaun said irritably.

  Kagan drew very near to him and leaned so that his face was only inches from the leprechaun’s. “Listen, chap, world peace is at stake: There have been two gruesome ritualistic murders and the courts of Heaven and Hell are currently not on speaking terms. We need to solve those bloody murders and we believe that guy, the Rune Keeper, knew the first victim and could also be the culprit — he is the key to the mystery. Besides, this Paul Robbins is a mere human — how did he get through your stellar security?” Kagan asked, mockery evident in his voice.

  The leprechaun kept his nerve this time. “Yes, I am aware that there are some humans who frequent my club, but they usually come with a patron and compensate me for their non-magical nature with a small donation.” He smirked and I developed quite a strong dislike for him. “I don’t judge anybody. Human or not, all are equal to me.”

  “Wow, that’s very generous of you,” I said derisively.

  The leprechaun pretended he hadn’t
heard me, and continued. “I offer my customers a nice non-judgmental place, a friendly atmosphere for socializing. You’d do better to ask my bartenders about the guy you’re searching for.”

  “So, it turns out the exclusive hot spot for all dark supernaturals can be accessed by humans as well?” I said. “Interesting.”

  The leprechaun gave me a dirty look, and I pretended I didn’t notice. He called the bartender, who, as it turned out, was the one we were already familiar with — the panther shifter. Fate was on our side.

  “What’s up, boss?” the bartender asked, coming over. Then he saw us, and instinctively bared his fangs. His eyes gleamed the yellow-greenish color that I was so familiar with from Brendan. “You! Again? What do you guys want?”

  Kagan flashed his badge and said, “We work for the Magic Council and currently we’re investigating two supernatural murders that have occurred in NYC in the past few days. We need you to tell us about the lad you pointed out to us the last time we spoke, or about his patron, the Rune Keeper. A goddess’ life is in danger and if you don’t cooperate, she might die. And what’s worse, the magical order on earth is at stake.” Kagan paused, waiting for his words to work their effect on the bewildered panther shifter. Then he went on. “Do you know anything that might benefit us in our investigation? I am not playing around — the culprit whoever he is — is planning a magical revolution.”

  The panther shifter looked at his boss, startled. The leprechaun nodded.

  “Umm, I d-don’t know. The dude you’re asking me about, I know him only by the name ‘Jimmy.’ Once or twice in his chats to other customers in the club, he dropped the name ‘the Rune Keeper.’ But I don’t think I’ve seen him here — not that I am aware of.”

  “Okay…” The fae hesitated, then asked, “What’s your name?”

  The bartender hastily added, “It’s Norwick… sir.”

  “Okay, Norwick, if you remember anything about this guy or his mysterious patron, please connect with me. Mentally.” Kagan smiled and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder.