Witch's Blood_Bloodless_A Paranormal Romance

by Neha Yazmin

  She stalks towards the door, Simone following her slowly.

  “Wait, Simone,” I call out. “I need to talk to you about your sister. About the last time you saw her. Jax will wait for you outside.”

  A moody crease occupies Jax’s forehead now as her eyes narrow in my direction.

  “I’ll be fine,” Simone assures her. “I want to help Amber as much as possible.”

  “Of course you do.” Jax exits the studio, a scowl on her face.

  “What was that about?” I wonder aloud.

  Another half-smile from Simone.

  “Before you arrived, she said you’re holding some cards close to your chest and that two can play that game…”

  “Hmm.”

  Yup, Jax has figured out that I lied to her about how I knew Imogen’s last name.

  “But I can’t play that game,” Simone mumbles, “not when my sister’s life is in danger.”

  “You really think some dark witch or wizard got her?”

  She nods.

  “But my parents don’t believe me.” She sighs. “Not even when Jax told them about her gift and what she detected when she first came to this studio.”

  “She detected dark magic, nothing else.” I scan the photograph-clad room again. “Jax said on the phone that none of the objects in the room gave her any visions of what happened.”

  “They wouldn’t though, would they?”

  “Because nothing happened to the contents of the room. Nothing was disturbed.”

  The objects in the studio wouldn’t be able to tell Jax what happened to the girl that worked here.

  “The windows and the door were locked, weren’t they?”

  Simone nods. “Imogen always keeps the door locked when she’s here.”

  I recall what else Jax had told me earlier on the phone:

  When she touched the windows and the door, she hadn’t seen anything or anyone suspicious. Looking at the windows now, it’s clear that no one would be able to fit through them.

  Only Imogen had opened and locked the front door when she entered her studio on the day she went missing but she hadn’t opened it again to leave.

  “Whoever got inside, didn’t use the door.”

  “Jax thinks they used a transporter spell,” Simone murmurs. “But the police think she never came here, or left if she did come, because the door was locked.

  “However much Jax wants to help, she can’t tell them how she knows Imogen came here the day she disappeared.”

  “So, how come your parents don’t believe Jax about Imogen coming here and not leaving through the door?”

  “They believe that,” she tells me, rolling her eyes at her parents. “They think Imogen transported out of here alone. Not with anyone evil. They think the world’s a safe place now, what with the–”

  “I know,” I murmur. “But the world is never going to be a safe place. Not really.”

  “My sister walked in here, Amber,” she sighs sadly, “but she didn’t walk out. Someone came and took her with magic. A dark witch or wizard.”

  “Because Jax sensed dark magic. But she won’t explain how she can sense it…”

  “She won’t explain it to you, but she told us.”

  Simone flicks her gaze towards the shut studio door, biting her lip guiltily.

  I nod at her encouragingly.

  “If it’ll help find Imogen…” She takes a deep breath and says, “Jax’s gift of seeing the past is growing. She thinks it’s because she’s been practicing so much magic this year, to get her sister back. She can see if there’s been… magic in the air.”

  Chapter 3

  “SHE SEES SHADOWS,” SIMONE EXPLAINS, “AND FEELS COLD IF THE PLACE HAS SEEN DARK MAGIC RECENTLY.”

  The young witch shivers as though she has Jax’s strange gift, too.

  Well, it’s not unheard of for certain witches to be able to sense the traces that magic leaves behind, the residual energy of spells and hexes.

  It’s just not something that comes naturally to me.

  It’s probably because my special gift – the ability to see the future – is to do with what might happen in the future, not what’s already been in the past.

  Jax, in a way, is the opposite of me.

  Her speciality is the past.

  “I believe you, Simone.” I feel that she needs to hear this from an adult, since her parents are sceptical about her suspicions.

  Then again, I’m 19 – I’ll be 20 in September; that’s just three months away – and probably not someone Simone sees as a grown-up.

  But I am the oldest witch here.

  And the most experienced.

  “I believe Jax, too,” I continue. “Dark magic got to Imogen. Was it a witch or wizard? I won’t make up my mind about that before I get more info.”

  “But what else could it be?” The question is posed by Jax, barging back into our midst. “Dark magic–”

  “Isn’t solely accessible to witches and wizards,” I blurt out.

  “You mean… like demons?” Simone whispers, her lips growing white from fear.

  Fear for her sister.

  I shake my head at myself.

  I shouldn’t have scared her like that.

  But now she’s looking at me, as is Jax, with a million questions in her frightened eyes.

  I open my mouth but Jax gets in there first.

  “Of course she doesn’t mean demons, Simone.” The white-haired witch walks over to her ex-classmate and puts an arm around her shoulders, taking on the role of the adult. “Demons haven’t roamed this earth in centuries.”

  “Exactly,” I say brightly. “Right now, I wanna search for more clues here and then–”

  “There’s no point trying a locator spell to find Imogen,” Jax says, incorrectly assuming that’s what I was going to say. “The four of us have tried loads of times and–”

  “Nothing. I get it,” I sigh.

  Whoever has Imogen is using protective enchantments to keep her family from pinning down her location.

  Unless, she’s already dead…

  *

  Several minutes later, I still haven’t found anything that gives us any indication as to what might have happened here three days ago.

  I’m not a detective, and I definitely haven’t read many crime novels, but intuition tells me that it’s now time to throw the spotlight on the victim.

  There might not be any clues about the witch-napper here, but Simone can tell me plenty about her sister.

  “Simone,” I begin hesitantly, as we leave the studio and she locks it behind her. “What was it that made you suspect Imogen’s disappearance was connected to her being a–” I stop before saying the word witch. “Being what she is?”

  “A photographer?” Simone asks, confused.

  “Let’s go back to my place,” Jax suggests before I can respond. “We can talk there. Simone’s house is nearer, but her parents won’t be too pleased that she’s reached out to another… private detective.”

  *

  Jax’s place is a 20-minute walk from Imogen’s studio.

  It’s a bright, warm June afternoon and I bask in it. Still not used to being out in the daylight.

  Only six months ago, daylight hours were reserved for sleeping, resting after a night of hunting.

  In my pale-yellow, sleeveless cotton dress and flat sandals, I soak up all the vitamin D.

  Though the first half of the month was cool, and luckily dry, it’s getting warmer now. We might have a nice, hot summer after all.

  Although, now that I’ve said it, it’s probably going to go all wet and grey any minute now!

  London weather, ladies and gentlemen.

  The girls are in T-shirts branded with cool phrases, leggings and trainers.

  They’re better prepared than I am if the weather turns sour.

  As we walk, we don’t discuss the case – the case? Look at me, going all detective! – and make small-talk instead.

  “So when did y
ou dye your hair, Amber?” Jax asks, giving me a once-over.

  I probably look very different to the last time she saw me. I’d been in my mum’s clothes; her black-leather biker jacket, one of her dresses – which was way too baggy for me, so I had a leather belt at the waist – and leggings and boots.

  And my hair was blonde.

  “January,” I tell her.

  “Was that your New Year’s resolution? The makeover, I mean?”

  “Sorta.”

  I’m making a fresh start this year, so I decided to reinvent myself.

  Turn myself into a normal 19-year-old girl, one that can blend into the crowd.

  A girl that can wield incredible magic, but doesn’t need to cast a single spell anymore.

  Because that part of my life is over.

  My services are no longer required…

  I sigh inwardly.

  “So why did you go for black?” Jax doesn’t seem impressed with my choice of hair colour.

  “It’s not all black,” Simone points out. “There’s a nice pinkish-red tint to it in the sun. I like it, Amber. It looks good on you.”

  Jax coughs; it sounds like she says “suck up!” under her breath.

  I pretend not to hear it.

  “So what colour was your hair before?” Simone asks conversationally.

  “Blonde.” I hesitate before confessing, “I dyed it black first, and didn’t like it as much as I thought I would. It seemed at odds with my blue eyes.

  “Then I went over it with a pinkish-reddish-mahogany. That only shows up when the light hits it…”

  “I guess it’s just Jamie Yorkk that can pull-off the raven-black-hair-with-tropical-ocean-blue-eyes-look,” Jax murmurs smugly.

  I ask, “Who’s Jamie Yorkk?” at the same time that Simone asks, “I didn’t know you liked Jamie Yorkk, Jax!”

  “I don’t!” Jax insists. “I just thought of him because of his black hair and blue eyes.”

  She shrugs, a little too nonchalantly.

  “Ooh, is Jamie a boy from school?” I tease Jax. “Does liddle Jacqueline have a liddle crush?” I say as though I’m talking to a baby or a toddler.

  The teens gape at me.

  Jax doesn’t even scold me for using her full name.

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “Haven’t you heard of Jamie Yorkk, the singer?” Jax asks as though I’ve said I haven’t heard of Michael Jackson.

  I refrain from admitting that Mr. Jackson is one of the few musicians I’ve actually heard of.

  “I didn’t grow up with a lot of TV or radio,” I tell them. “Whenever we had access to a television, Aiden – my brother – only wanted to watch the news and documentaries. Neither of us is all that interested in TV; that’s why we don’t have one.”

  The girls’ eyes widen.

  Sympathy draws their lips downwards. Like I’m missing out on life.

  “You have an internet phone though, right?” Simone asks and I nod. “That’s alright then.” She means it.

  The youth of today, ladies and gentlemen.

  I chuckle.

  “Anyway, I’ve been too busy studying for pre-GCSE exams this year. I’m hoping to study GCSE Maths, Science and English at College from September. Without those, I can’t study for A-Levels. Without A-Levels, I can’t get into Uni.”

  “So, you’re no different to a drop-out like me.” Jax smirks.

  I ignore her.

  “You see, Simone. I was home-schooled, so to speak. I have a basic education, but no academic qualifications. And you need those in the outside world. Now, that I have to live in it.”

  I’m the only one that detects the disappointment in my tone.

  Truth is, I miss my old life.

  Miss being a protector of humanity.

  Fighting the forces of evil.

  I don’t miss the danger that comes with it, but in a way, maybe I do.

  It’s all I ever knew.

  No wonder I agreed to come to Jax and Simone’s aid without hesitation.

  Why I didn’t refer them to the newly-formed Witch’s Council who’d typically investigate missing witches.

  No, I can’t settle for the quiet life.

  I love being a witch, using magic to save the day.

  It’s what I was born to do.

  My destiny.

  Chapter 4

  JAX LETS US INTO HER HOUSE.

  Simone offers to e-mail me Jamie Yorkk’s debut album, which came out at the end of last year, in MP3 format.

  I smile, trying to look eager.

  The thing is, I don’t have time to listen to music, what with the studying and revision.

  We sit on the leather sofas in the massive lounge and my tone becomes serious as I begin my questioning.

  “Simone, what made you think Imogen was taken?”

  She takes a deep breath. Lets it out slowly.

  “I know there’s a huge age gap between me and my sister, but we’re really close,” she begins in a quiet voice.

  “It’s not that big a gap,” I assure her. “My brother Aiden is 5 years older than me.”

  “Imogen and I, we can tell when something isn’t quite right with us. And recently, Imogen’s been… troubled.”

  “How so?”

  Simone sighs. “I can’t give you any specifics, but I just knew. There was something different about her eyes. Her smile.”

  “What brought this on, do you know?”

  She glances at Jax, who nods at her in encouragement.

  “Her boyfriend,” Simone mumbles, eyes dropping to her lap.

  “Ah,” I say with a nod.

  “It’s not what you think,” Simone protests. “She started changing ever since she met him, but she couldn’t be more besotted with him if she tried.

  “As far as she knew, he was the best thing to have happened to her. ‘He makes me so happy,’ she’d keep telling me.”

  “What was she like with your parents?” I ask.

  “They’d been fighting,” she admits, looking down at her fidgeting fingers on her lap. “Nothing major, just arguments. Lots of them.”

  “Did your parents disapprove of her boyfriend?”

  “Oh no,” she assures me, shaking her head vigorously. “They never met him. Mum and dad just didn’t like her staying out so late with him, spending all her time with him. Sometimes, she’d stay over at his place…”

  “But she was over 21–”

  “She turned 21 in February.”

  “Still, she’s old enough to have a serious relationship…”

  “That wasn’t the issue,” she insists. “It’s just that they also noticed how she’d changed, and it made them just as uneasy as it made me.

  “Now they’re blaming themselves, saying that she was simply growing up, becoming a woman, and they pushed her away by trying to… restrain her.”

  “They agree with the police!” I realise. “Your parents think she ran away because they were too hard on her.”

  “They thought she was with her boyfriend,” Jax informs me. It’s the first time she’s spoken since we got here. “But she isn’t with him. The police searched his place and everything.”

  I turn to Simone.

  “So why did you reach out to Jax?”

  “I wanted to try a few different spells to find out what could have happened, or send a message to Imogen.

  “Then Jax told me about her gift, of seeing the past, and I took her to Imogen’s studio...”

  “What makes you suspect Imogen’s boyfriend is involved in her disappearance?”

  “He’s the key to all this,” Jax states. “I just need to get my hands on him and I’ll know.”

  “But we can’t go see him by ourselves,” Simone whispers. “In case he is what we think he is.”

  So they want me as their bodyguard.

  Jax isn’t great at offensive and defensive magic; Simone’s probably the same.

  “And what is it that you think he is?” I ask them both.
>
  The young girls look at each other, nod.

  Simone says, “I saw him just once. In person, that is. I didn’t get a good vibe from him. Call it witch’s intuition.”

  “I think he’s working for a dark witch,” Jax adds. “I don’t think he’s the one that has Imogen now. He was just the delivery boy.”

  “What makes you so sure he’s working for someone else? That it’s a dark witch behind all this?”

  “Two reasons,” Jax replies. “Firstly, whoever’s behind this won’t get their hands dirty. They’ll get a minion, a follower, to do the kidnapping.

  “Secondly, Imogen is a witch. And dark wizards aren’t interested in witches; they can’t take their power. Only another witch can.”

  I suck in a ragged breath.

  “You think someone’s after Imogen’s powers?” I ask, startled.

  And a little horrified by the notion.

  That’s one of the ultimate crimes in Witch Law – robbing a witch of her magic.

  The teens nod, though; Jax confidently, Simone sadly.

  “But that’s just… barbaric,” I exclaim loudly.

  It’s murder.

  I can’t say that in front of Simone, but I doubt she’s unaware of the three-day ritual that rips a witch’s power from her and transfers it to another.

  The spell is complete when the sacrificed witch dies.

  “That’s why we need to find her before midnight tonight,” Jax says urgently.

  Midnight tonight.

  Imogen was taken on Sunday.

  If the ritual began midnight Sunday, then midnight tonight marks the third midnight of the spell – the midnight on which the spell commences doesn’t count.

  Tonight might be Imogen’s final midnight…

  Unintentionally, I find myself jumping to my feet, raising my voice.

  “Why didn’t you contact me – or the Witch’s Council – sooner?”

  Jax, towards whom my question is directed, bolts upright, too.

  “Simone only contacted me late last night once the police did their thing,” she tells me through her teeth. “And you can’t blame her; she had no idea what–”

  “Sorry, both of you.” I hold up my hands in a peacemaking gesture.

  As I sit back down, Simone says, “As for the Witch’s Council… mum and dad don’t want to involve them; they don’t quite trust them yet.”