White Witch (Haven Book 1)

by Lil Hamilton

  Rodney made a sort of grunting of acceptance. Trolls were so pigeon-holed in the border realm. As though humans and mid-realm races could not fathom a different purpose for a troll than to be a bodyguard. Not that they were not awesome at bashing things. They towered at about seven feet tall, with a nice olive green skin tone and had beady red eyes. Funny those stories always made them ugly. I rather thought they had a sort of Hulk meets that giant of frozen peas, with a lot of piercing, corded black hair and swirling dark green tats. An illusion worth the money to fool the Elder races was quite above a joint like this. What would be the point? Anyone who could see through the illusion was far more intimidated by the threat of a troll. I don’t think Rodney or Wilhelm had any secret desires to be dancers or painters so the gig suited them fine.

  Lan opened the door for me and we entered the thumping, light pulsing club. It had three levels to it, but when you walked in you could see all the way to the domed roof, the second and third floor rimmed with balconies. Spotlights of coloured stars and ancient symbols swept across the dome, which I thought was way cool. Or sick. Or wicked. Or off the hizzle sizzle. Whatever term the kiddies were saying these days.

  It was more the crowds that bothered me. If you stood still, it was so packed that eventually you would be nudged to the bar, bathroom or door, whichever the aim of the crowd willed you. Too many people invading my personal space, which was usually about four feet away. I groaned slightly, coiling my aura around me tightly to secure it from brushing against the pulsing of different and vibrant energy signatures. I dove into the crowd and aimed for the bar that ran along the far wall. I needed some fortification. Dill disappeared ahead of me, but Lan followed close on my heels. Very close. If I stopped he would run into me.

  I whipped around and he stopped suddenly, at least having the decency to flash me a sheepish smile. “Is this your impression of staying in the background? Any less subtle and I’d be giving you a piggy back ride.”

  His eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. “It is not right that you go unprotected. You’re a Princess of the Blood.”

  “I’ve done just fine for every other year of my life, demon boy. I can’t get people to talk with a demon hovering around, looking all threatening at them.” I spotted a few rowdy demons hitting on a group of scowling valkyrie. Likely the demons had papers; the sort of day to week passes usually drawn up for any demon over five centuries. “No one wants to know what our esteemed cousin was up to. So be good and go play with the other boys who have a get out of jail pass. Maybe they saw Eadon here, so, ask if they remember the chick he was with.”

  That was a blatant excuse to get him to back off. Obviously Eadon had not made it out of Lily’s home during his little courtship phase or he would bloody well know where it was. I just didn’t need rumours to be said that I was hanging around with one very specific and possessive demon. Doing a job for one, through my investigation firm rather than the Accords, would be fine. Having one living in my house would not go over well with the Queen of all Queens.

  He crossed his arms and took a stubborn stance, imitating a wall. I blandly stared him down. Two stubborn rocks in a sea of people. His aura wrapped me in warmth but I refused to back down and move back. My skin felt flush and aroused. The damn bite mark tingled. Wowzers.

  He pulled back a bit and gave me a small satisfied smile. “Then go to it.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Good. I will then.”

  I turned on my heels and muscles my way up to the bar. It was not that hard. While I was not that intimidating, people recognized me. They knew my status in the border realm and my lineage in the Hells. Good for getting through a crowd but usually more trouble than it was worth. I caught the eye of the nearest bartender, a large hairy Lob who went by the name Lob, simply because he was the only Unseelie Lob around. Or at least the only one who managed to make his visits regularly enough to work the bar. Likely he resided on a Faerie patch that had a nearby access point, but I didn’t care about the particulars.

  “Ray, what can I get for ya?” he asked, planting his meaty, very hairy, hands on the bar.

  “Two hairy, I mean, Fairy Cocktails.”

  “Comin up.”

  Within a few moments I had two thin glasses of a milky drink that could knock fae on their butts if they had enough. It was the mixture of goat milk, rum and a fantastic hallucinogenic drug. I downed the first on my way upstairs. On the third floor there were a bunch of couches and round tables for the mellower crowd. Most of the witches ended up on this level, usually too stoned for the more rowdy main floor. I began to mingle and enjoyed a few communal joints in the process. The music was all trance techno on the third floor, buffed by spells so that the more thumping beats from below did not mix.

  No one was talking though. There was no gossip about a witch being attacked by vampires. No one knew of a witch going by Lily Storm or the description I had. Usually the covens kept each other up to date about any threats to their own. Even if she had been working solo, others would have known about it. They would have interacted with her at some time or even tried to recruit her. So either Lily did not tell anyone for whatever reason about her attack or she had no chance to tell anyone. Or she was freaked and went to ground. Or, more likely, the witches just were not talking to me in particular. Much like a gang banger would not talk to a cop. They all knew I worked with Inter and for most of them that meant I was one of them. It was illegal to make them talk, in a fae magic sort of way and I tried to stay legal, at least with those that might get a vibe I was enchanting them. Last thing I needed was whole bunch of hexes on my ass.

  I met up with Dill briefly and compared notes. He had met up with some of his sources and found out our missing nymph had been seen at a club called Tribute with a witch and faeling before she had disappeared. Since she had no landed status to speak of she really shouldn’t have been leaving the District without an escort let alone meeting other races at a shady club. The club was neutral enough but very near the area known as the Gutters which was known for fried witches and humans who were addicted to the bite of vampires. The slums essentially. So the club attracted turned vampires looking for a little something extra in the blood. Although it was frowned upon, severely, some fae would sell their blood because it was damn intoxicating to vampires. It was illegal because turned vampires, especially young ones, didn’t have the control to resist the pull of our blood. If they drained one of us dry there was nothing that would save them from our wrath. I would think she had met her own end with a vampire if not for the rise in missing others and not for the fact she had been seen with a witch, not a vampire. I needed to see her sponsor. A missing nymph didn’t fit the profile. Faelings and demi demons were essentially under the radar. If the kidnappings were reported Inter would be in charge and Inter avoided the Warrens. They would likely do very little investigating into the matter. Witches were numerous, transitory and there was no real registry for them; only a coven registry. Again, if no one reported them missing no one really would notice. But a nymph, first of all, while often coveted for the slave trade were rarely taken as full bloods because they wasted away rapidly away from Faerie or their source of energy in the border realm. Secondly, big waving red flag attention grabber for the whole fae community. Maybe not Inter, but certainly me. Which would and had drawn a great deal of attention to every other missing person, not even counting Lily. It seemed… blatant if it was connected and was harvesters.

  By the time I had my fourth Fairy cocktail I was hooped and loving it. I slouched on a sofa with a group of witches and one warlock discussing the benefits of sexual energy. Witches could tap into a variety of energy forms, via themselves, transforming the energy for their own use. It required meditation, concentration, herbs and drugs. They swapped spells like housewives swapped recipes, but they all had their own concoctions. Which was why the buggers were so hard to pin down. All their spells and magics were designed to suit them. I’d never underestimate their abilities. I treated them like Unseeli
e for the most part; capable of doing some impressive things, creative things that might knock me on my ass and so to be wary and prepped with an assortment of useful spells. I had in fact learned a great deal from witches, not that I’d share that with them. Since the border realm was so much more restrictive than Faerie and I was weaker than a full breed anyway I found developing the skills to endow spells into stones and gems to use when I was tapped out to be extremely useful.

  This little coven seemed to be exploring how to harness the energy created during sex, or a way to open their minds using sex. Or just having loads of sex just to see if it would do something. I would’ve thought they were a bunch of mildly gifted mortals playing witches, if it weren’t for the fact the warlock had an aura that was sooty black and the three women various shades of darker grey. Their aura could get that way in different ways, but all of them were not in any way playing nice with others.

  The slim blond leaned forward. “Do the fae use sexual energy?” she asked, seeming oddly excited by the possibility. Maybe she was one of the fae watchers; those border realm people, of a variety of races, who were fascinated by the fae and stalked them like movie stars.

  “Sadly, no. But, hey, worth a try, right?”

  “Then how do your work fairy magic?” Sarah asked, with academic curiosity. I squinted at her. Maybe it was Susan. Sally?

  “Well. We simply take out the middle man,” I said, making a vague gesture. Humans. So curious. So oblivious. I intrigued them, when they should be terrified. It was odd really. After all the other-kin had been outed by my father, the initial hysteria, the mobs and the laws, came unquenchable curiosity. How did we do what we did? What did that mean about the world? If it made sense, if they could wrap it in a theory, then it was not so scary. I loved their intense curiosity, but it was damned stupid to not be scared of the Elder races. I was scared of my own kind. It was just damned common sense.

  “A witch uses various methods to fine tune their thinking and then other tools to link to the environment in some way. You gather energy, but it is filtered through you and your energy is infused into your ritual. All very diverse methods. I’m totally fascinated and baffled by your methods. I think it was a lot to do with what you believe your ingredients do rather than any innate power in them. Like symbolism. You make them significant. Way awesome. The fae don’t need mental prep to spin a spell and they need nothing to link them to the environment. We are like a conduit. Connected to the energy around us and then we funnel it directly into a spell, without using our personal energy,” I said using hand gestures to make a flowing movement. Course our magic was all about will. It also was draining in the border realm, but I was hardly going to admit that because then my magic would not seem so awesome. Instead of using personal energy as they did and being drained, we got a sort of static or feedback that didn’t drain us but interfered with our magic. The more we did the more interference. Once we rested and got rid of the gunk we were good to go again.

  “But there are many fae instruments. Rings seem to be the fad,” Blondie said.

  I fished through my pocket and dropped a plain gray stone on the table. I beamed at her and nodded at the stone. “Take it. It is totally prepped already. You toss this baby at someone and they will freeze for ten minutes. I mean totally freeze. No senses, no thoughts. Nada. But you have to say ‘Estamino’ cause that is the trigger word that completes the circuit.”

  She smiled and snagged the stone. Little did she know I had converted that from a witch charm. Witch gangs were loaded with such things. It just made sense I was equally prepared.

  My eyes caught a familiar face across the room and narrowed. I looked back at Blondie and smiled slightly. “For a lasting spell to endure the test of time, it needs to be linked to something that also endures. And a power source. Like anything else. Some craft is extremely refined and our Enchanters who create the rings and baubles you think of have spells that take days to decades to weave into those rings. One would never be able to just say such a spell. The cost would be too large and the spell too long. However, such skills take thousands of years to master.”

  I didn’t feel the need to say that we could only hold a finite amount of prepped spells in our mind and instruments could be useful when going into combat. All Seelie fae blinged up for combat. Working that sort of permanent enchantment was not a skill I had quite gotten down, but I suppose give or take a few more centuries of study I would barely grasp the basics. I used gems and stones to hold incomplete spells and those did last for about a month.

  I stood up and staggered slightly. The world warped a bit, but hard to say if I was doing something accidentally or the drinks were catching up with me. I smiled down at the warlock. He was a bit on the thin, pale side, but he knew a great deal about witch craft and was far older than he appeared. “Donny, it has been great meeting your group. We’ll have to chat sometime. I can always use some contractors on my crew. Especially if you are good at tracking spells. I could use that. You hear anything please let me know. I know coven business is none of mine, but when things affect all of Haven we should feel free to share. But right now, an old friend and I have to have a chat.”

  I staggered away. Or I was walking straight and the floor was tilting. All about perspective. Warren saw me coming. I saw him whisper something to a vampire woman at his side. As I approached he looked like he was reaching up to scratch his nose, but I knew he was breaking a pouch of herbs to clear his mind and trigger a specific spell. Warren was a gaunt man with thin lips and a nose that was surprisingly large and a weak chin. His very appearance was enough to make most people wince in sympathy. Since I was paying attention I could see his black aura condense and then snap out to me. I flicked a hand, saying ’Declinas’ and my aura responding to slap the spell aside. The spell smacked into a man crossing my path. The man stopped, frowned and looked around. “What the fuck? How’d I get here?” I heard him mumble as I passed. I winced at the poor man. Obviously my aim was off a bit.

  I had intended to have an official chat with the warlock but the insult enraged me. I stopped several feet from him. “You used a Forget-Me spell on me. On me. A diluted half-assed version on me. You stupid little arrogant weasel and such damned audacity being back in my city out in the open.”

  He stood up and his aura thickened again as he began to mumble under his breath. I rolled my eyes. As if I could not toss out several spells by the time he could manage one. The man was a devious little rat who in the past had the cunning to choose skilled mercenary witches, but he, all by his lonesome, was not even a middle class warlock. I released my outer aura and it expanded outward rapidly, filling the room, securing the area. Everyone stopped in their tracks as they were hit with the full force of my fae being. Some fell to their knees weeping. Some crawled away from me. Others towards me. Oops, might have reconsidered that.

  I had several spells spinning in my lower consciousness, an automatic response to his threat level. The one that flashed out from my inner aura was a Puppet spell. Blunt, but it was what humans understood. Blunt force. I spun it out while saying the trigger words that completed the half spun spell and activated it. “Pareo dis servio, imperis dis sequor,” I said as the spell hit him in the forehead and sank inward until he glowed a pale pink. He froze as the spell hit him, his hands falling to his side, his eyes wide.

  The vampire beside him slowly stood up. My outer aura wouldn’t affect her the same way, since she had her own defensive aura to rely on. She backed a few steps away with a slight smirk.

  I made a beckoning gesture to Warren. “Come here you little bitch.”

  Sweat broke out on his head as he tried not to come, when his body began to move it was with jerky movements.

  “On your knees and crawl to me.”

  He fell to his kneels hard and then crawled towards me stiffly. When he was at my feet I grabbed him by the hair and yanked his face up. “Warren, what the fuck are you doing on my turf again? Huh? I do believe the Accords Council ban
ned you from this city.”

  I released my spell control and he began to tremble all over. “Up to your own games again? Hmm? Selling witches and Unseelie half-breeds to the highest bidder?”

  “No, no. I quit all that,” he gasped out.

  “Liar,” I hissed. When we had raided his warehouse he had people in dog cages. He had been auctioning them off. Scum of the earth taking advantage of those with less protections or aggressive spells. “I can make you tell me the truth, Warren. You remember that?”

  Warren trembled.

  “Ray?”

  I slanted a look at Lan. “Yeah?”

  “What are you doing?” he asked calmly, walking forward. I think he sensed the aggressive weight to my aura. Perhaps he was concerned I would go into a rage over the warlock. I could feel the flush of rage on me and knew he was right to suspect it. The fact was witches were not in my area of control. The Accords witch representatives ultimately were the ones who dealt with rogue witches. Not me. He had been banned from the city, but not restricted in any way. I had to abide by that decision, even when he had been the one to kidnap Chera. Even now, when he had clearly broken that agreement I had no authority to ensure he never harmed another person. I could, however, get the information I needed from him. I could act if I had evidence he was trading in Unseelie fae again. If he was in Haven, I knew damned well knew he was up to something.

  “Nothing yet. Had I known Warren was down I would’ve tracked him. We’ll see what he knows about our witch. And he will know something if he has been in town long. He hunts half-breeds and witches. Coincidently we have a missing one. Only then will I hand him over to the authorities to find his new stock.”

  I rapped Warren hard on the head with my knuckles using a spell to knock him out. While I was at it I began to spin a mind meld spell for later. Then I heaved him over my shoulder, letting my aura flow back into its natural state. “Nothing to see here,” I said. “Show is over.”