Hammer of Witches
The Sixth Novel in the Thaumatology Series
By Niall Teasdale
Copyright 2012 Niall Teasdale
Kindle Edition
Contents
Part One: Bad Girls
Part Two: Partying in Hell
Part Three: Pentateuch
Part Four: Angels in the Architecture
Part Five: Inquisitio per Sigillum
Part Six: Faith
Housemates
About the Author
Part One: Bad Girls
Clapham, London, October 5th, 2011
The body lay in a patch of scorched grass. Its skin was blackened, charred to the point of decomposition, and the stench was almost unbearable to a werewolf’s nose. It was the posture, however, which had Ceri on the verge of throwing up; the woman -it was just about recognisable as a woman- had been hog-tied with wire and from the way the head was stretched back, the mouth open in a wide, agonised scream, she had been alive when she burned.
Stinks, Michael growled from behind her. The speech of werewolves was rudimentary, but functional, and her mate had managed to get his revulsion across exceptionally well with a simple sound. Howl?
Ceri nodded her head, backing out of the little coppice they had found the corpse in. She growled her reply out as he followed. You howl. I get Man Guard. This Man crime. Police was not actually a wolf word, but he understood her intention. When she just stood outside the trees as he raised his muzzle, he did pause to give her a frown. Call Demon get Man Guard, Ceri added.
Shrugging, Michael raised his head and let out a loud howl which echoed out through the night. Ignoring him, Ceri summoned her power and thought of Lily at work across London in the Jade Dragon. The half-succubus was not expecting the telepathic call and her mind put up token resistance…
And then they were connected and Lily knew everything as their thoughts became a jumble of melded minds. ‘Holy shit!’ Lily exclaimed, the specific thought as clear as a bell amid the tangle of images. Lily was getting better at these random connections; she had paused walking back from one of her tables, but now she was walking again. ‘Should I call Kate?’
‘They’re off duty tonight, I think,’ Ceri thought back. ‘Just call Greycoat Street and report it. Tell them I’m here… uh, in plain clothes?’
Lily giggled. Alec was looking at her funny from across the bar as she asked for the phone. Lily was not telling him what was funny. ‘I’ll call them,’ Lily’s thought came through. ‘Don’t forget your crime scene etiquette.’
‘I won’t. See you later, love.’ Ceri broke the connection off and turned back toward the body. Hidden by foliage, she reached up to her throat and the silver-studded, leather collar which rested there. A tiny surge of power and a tingling sensation in her skin, and she was human again. She sighed; meeting the cops in her birthday suit was not her idea of fun, but her clothes were back in Battersea Park.
She turned her head slightly to look at Michael. ‘Can you smell… petrol? Anything else chemical?’ He sniffed a couple of times and then shook his head. ‘Thanks. When the others arrive, form a cordon. No one gets through except the cops.’ He nodded again and backed out of the trees; he was probably not that keen on being there either.
Ceri frowned, squatting beside the fallen body well outside the burned grass. They had found it by scent, but how had no one heard the screaming? It took several seconds for her to notice the oddity about the scene; the burnt patch was a perfect circle. Moving a little closer, she peered at the edge. Sure enough there was salt among the grass blades; someone had formed a containment circle around the body as it burned. Or something similar to a containment circle.
She turned on her Sight, the vision which allowed her to see magical energy. She was a thaumatologist so she knew that what it actually let her see was the flow of open-loop thaumitons, the particles which transmitted magical forces. She was also what the police called a Special Advisor; Lily had been alluding to the training they had had regarding behaviour at crime scenes. Ceri would stay out of the circle until forensics arrived, but she could look, and what she saw was traces of thaumic energy lingering in the salt. The corpse had been there for hours, it was possible the fire had been set during the day!
There was noise behind her and a uniformed policeman pushed through. Ceri stood up, turning toward him and he came to a sudden stop. You would think cops who worked werewolf territories would be used to naked women, but apparently the sight of an attractive, slightly masculine girl with barely medium sized breasts wearing only a collar and a silver ankle chain gave him pause. ‘You got here fast,’ she said.
‘We were… patrol… Um, detectives are on the way.’ The man was fairly young. ‘You should, uh, go back to your pack.’ He started toward the body.
‘Ceridwyn Brent,’ Ceri said, ‘Special Advisor to the Greycoats. Sorry, I’m not carrying my warrant card, but if you take one more step toward that body I’ll have you up on disciplinary charges for contaminating the crime scene.’ She had no idea whether she could do that, but neither did he; he came to a sudden stop.
‘I have to check she’s dead,’ he said.
Ceri turned and looked at the blackened corpse. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?!’
~~~
The trees rustled and Ceri turned to see Detective Chief Inspector Barry pushing through the branches. She had not expected the ex-military chief of the Greycoats’ detectives to turn out to this, but then he looked like he was not expecting to see two naked women around the corpse either.
‘Chief,’ Ceri said, ignoring the slight colour in his cheeks, ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’
‘Yeah, well, I heard you were down here,’ he rumbled, ‘and I needed to make an assessment myself on this one.’ His gaze drifted over Anita who was standing nearby. An impressive woman, the Captain of the Battersea Pack’s Guard would have made a respectable barbarian princess; tall, attractive, with a lot of long muscle.
‘Detective Chief Inspector Barry, this is Anita, Alexandra’s Guard Captain.’
‘Good evening, Detective,’ Anita said. Ceri had the distinct feeling that Anita was actually enjoying his discomfort at shaking hands with a naked Amazon; not that Anita would admit it. ‘She was human and neither me nor Michael can smell any accelerant. Your forensics people might find residue, of course. If your people can handle the crowd control I’ll get my wolves back to what they should be doing.’
‘Yes, thanks for keeping the press back,’ Barry said, rallying on her business-like attitude. ‘How they got here so fast I don’t know, but thanks.’
Anita nodded and started off through the trees, shifting as she walked. On one step she was a strong, lithe woman, on the next she was a larger, stronger wolf-girl and no one was going to argue with her at all.
Barry turned back to Ceri and the body. ‘Thoughts?’ he asked.
‘There’s evidence of some sort of containment circle being used,’ Ceri said. ‘It’s still got a little residual energy. She could have been here for a while. I’m assuming that the spell blocked the sound of her screams. I think it provided the heat, but I’m not sure. I’ve never heard of magic like that.’
‘Think she’s a witch?’
Ceri blinked at him. ‘She’s a charcoal briquette! I’m not even sure she’s a she. Why?’
Barry gave a shrug. ‘May be a connection to another case. You go back to your boyfriend. We’ll call you if we need your talents on this one.’
‘My mate,’ Ceri corrected, reaching to her throat.
The DCI raised an eyebrow as she shifted into a black furred she-wolf. ‘Well, thank him for me. You two were probably
the best people we could have asked for to find this.’
Ceri bowed her head, fairly sure Barry would not understand her barks, and headed through the trees to Michael. Patrol, she growled. Her nose was full of the stench of burned flesh. Hopefully the run around the last half of the pack’s territorial boundary would clear it out.
Holloway, October 6th
‘All right,’ Cheryl said, slumping slightly in her chair, ‘it’s taken me weeks, but I’ve gone over your work on the ley line creation idea.’
She did not immediately continue and Ceri found herself unaccountably nervous. The theory she had asked her boss, Cheryl Tennant, to look over was designed to create a channel of thaumic energy, an artificial ley line, which would transfer that energy from one place with a lot of it to another with far less. She had worked it all out with the help of Ed Perry, a thaumatology professor from Aberystwyth who also happened to be a dragon.
‘I barely understand this, Ceri,’ Cheryl admitted after a few seconds. ‘Seriously, this stuff is horribly advanced. However, I can’t find anything wrong with it. No hidden dangers, no errors or problems I can see. There is a gotcha, though…’
‘The power requirement to kick the thing off?’ Ceri suggested.
Cheryl nodded. ‘Building a small line isn’t too bad, but for the mega-line we want, it’ll take hundreds of thaums.
‘And that’s another reason why it’s going to be me setting up the line,’ Ceri replied. ‘I’ve done it before, at Stonehenge. I can collect and store a lot of power, and then use that to spark the line.’
‘Okay. The Ministry has agreed to manufacture the marker staves. Get me the schematics for them and we’ll get them started.’ She picked up a memory stick and passed it across the desk. ‘In the meantime, here’s something for you to take a look at.’ Ceri took the stick and looked at it, as though she could divine its contents by sight. ‘There were a few anomalous readings in the data we got from our “big bang” experiment. I’d like you to take a look and see what you think of that data.’
Ceri grinned. ‘Not even going to give me a hint of what you think is there?’
Cheryl grinned back. ‘Nope. Consider it an exercise.’
Kennington, October 7th
Ceri sighed, reached for her coffee mug without looking, almost knocked it off the desk, and then discovered the contents was stone cold. Grimacing, she looked up from her tablet and found that Lily was in the room. The half-succubus was laid out on the chaise longue, a faint grin on her perfectly curved lips and her black eyes fixed on Ceri. Her gorgeous, impressively large breasts were encased in a black halter top which still left plenty of cleavage showing, and her wide hips were graced by a pair of matching shorts which took the name to extremes.
‘Hi,’ Ceri said, a little bewildered. ‘You’re dressed… almost.’
‘Yes.’ The grin on Lily’s lips grew wider. ‘You have been glaring at that data for two days. Do you actually know what day it is?’
‘Well, yes it’s…’ She glanced down at her tablet, tapped the screen, and found the little calendar in the corner. ‘…Friday.’ She beamed at the discovery, ignoring the fact that she had had to look it up. Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, Friday!’
Lily giggled. Friday afternoon they went down to the dungeon for pole practice. Ceri checked the time; after two, oh Hell! ‘You need a break,’ Lily said.
‘I need coffee first,’ Ceri replied. At least she was not hungry; she had a vague memory of a sandwich being placed in front of her an hour or so ago… Had Lily done that? And had she entirely ignored her best friend and lover? ‘Tell you what, you go pour me a mug and I’ll get changed. I’ll wear something special to make up for ignoring you all day.’
Lily rose from the chaise with easy grace and strutted toward the door on six-inch heeled platform pumps. Ceri watched her walking for several seconds, swallowed, and then scurried up to their bedroom to find something suitable to wear.
Dressing to please Lily was actually very hard. Almost anything Ceri selected would be greeted with a look of lustful desire. Trying to come up with something “special” was not easy. In the end she went with corset, thong, and spike-heeled thigh boots. She had not worn that outfit since filming a porn scene the month before. She was hoping it would bring back a few memories, and besides, when she wore it it made her feel more… dominant. Lily always liked that, it was built into her DNA; succubi were naturally submissive, unless faced with a weak-willed master or mistress anyway.
Lily took one look at her as she sashayed into the kitchen and a tiny gasp escaped her mouth. Her usual confident posture and expression shifted subtly; her eyes went down and she stepped forward, handing over the coffee mug and then standing up straight, heels together, chest thrust out. Yes, that was the kind of reaction Ceri was looking for.
‘Thank you, pet,’ Ceri said. She took a drink of the life-giving black fluid in her mug, the scent of firing neurons filling her nostrils. Lily did not reply, she just stood there, eyes downcast, and awaited her mistress’ pleasure. Ceri ignored her and sipped coffee. It had taken her months to learn to be a good mistress, but she was fairly sure she knew what she was doing now. It was an incredibly complex balancing act, something she could not entirely apply science to. At first she had been sure she was doing it all wrong, though Lily and her inner demon seemed satisfied. Like everything she did, however, Ceri had to at least try to excel. In this case Ceri wanted to be the best mistress she could be for Lily; Lily deserved it.
‘Come on then,’ Ceri said. She put the mug down on the table and turned on her heel to head out of the kitchen.
‘Yes, Mistress,’ Lily said. Her heels clicked on the slate floor as she followed Ceri out.
Crossing the hall, they went through the semi-hidden door which led to the staircase down to the cellar. Negotiating the steps in the dark and in heels was not the easiest of things, but they had both had fair amounts of practice. At the bottom the corridor was lit by glowing runes in the ceiling and it was far easier to move along to the second of the three iron doors. Ceri opened it and waved for Lily to go down ahead of her. ‘Find me a collar for you to wear,’ Ceri said. Lily gave a tiny squeak of glee as she went down the steps into the dungeon.
Grinning while Lily could not see it, Ceri walked down the steps, turned on the coloured spots they had arranged to light up the pole, and unhooked a bull whip from the candelabra near the light switches. As an afterthought she waved her hand and lit the candles. There was a tiny gasp from Lily; the succubus in her loved to see her mistress use power, even in such a tiny way.
Ceri turned and took the collar Lily was holding out; a fairly slim, leather one with a padlock and a ring mounted over the throat. Stepping around her pet, Ceri put the collar in place and locked it. Then she stepped back and swatted Lily’s left buttock with the rolled up whip. ‘That was for the squeak at the top of the stairs,’ Ceri said.
‘Sorry, Mistress,’ Lily replied, her voice a little breathy.
Another swat hit the other cheek and Lily quickly suppressed a gasp. ‘That was for the gasp when I lit the candles,’ Ceri told her.
‘S-sorry, Mistress.’
Ceri walked around in front of Lily again and let the whip uncurl, its end snaking across the stone floor. Ceri had to stop herself from taking it all back as she saw Lily almost whimpering at her mistress’ displeasure. It was all part of the game, but there had to be care along with the punishment. ‘Now show how good a pet you are.’ She reached out and used the whip to lift Lily’s chin. ‘Dance for me.’
‘Oh yes, Mistress,’ Lily breathed. Ceri thought she would never get used to the love Lily could put into a few simple words.
Soho
It was five nights to full moon and the Jade Dragon’s customers were more werewolf than undead. There were humans, of course; they thinned a little at the full moon when the werewolves got boisterous, but they were always there. Ceri dropped off five glasses of wine for the tourists on table fifteen and turned back
to the bar. The group were down from Manchester, two couples and the teenage son of one pair. Ceri was a little amazed they had brought him here with them, but he seemed to be enjoying himself so…
‘Do you have a personal rune?’ Lily asked as Ceri put her tray down and turned to lean against the counter.
‘No,’ Ceri replied, ‘I’ve never needed…’ She stopped, frowning. ‘Actually, I do. Mum created one for me when I was a baby, registered it and everything. Of course, then I turned out to have no magic…’
‘But now you do. Do you remember what it looks like?’
‘Of course not,’ Ceri said, grinning. ‘Mum showed me it when I was, like, twelve. I haven’t seen it since. It’s probably in their files.’
‘Can I see it?’
Ceri frowned at her. ‘Sure, I guess. I mean, I suppose I should dig it out anyway. Why do you want it?’
‘Just interested. Carter has one, I know your parents had them.’
‘Oh… Well, I’ll see if I can find it.’
Lily beamed. ‘Thank you.’ Then she headed off toward one of her tables, her hips swaying. That girl was up to something.
The thought was lost as someone arrived at the lectern in the entrance and Ceri turned to look. John and Lorna Radcliffe were there with Kate Middleshaw standing just a little away from them, looking slightly awkward.
Carter glanced over and smiled. ‘Put them on twelve, Ceri.’ Considering that the two cops had been on the verge of arresting him for murder not long ago, Carter was showing considerable equanimity.
Ceri nodded and headed for the lectern. She came to a stop and smiled her best waitress smile. ‘Good evening and welcome to the Jade Dragon. I’m Ceri and I’ll be your waitress for the evening.’
Lorna giggled. As usual the vampire looked stunning. Her model-good looks were only emphasised by her pale skin. By comparison her handsome husband was about average and Kate, while attractive by any definition, looked almost homely. In a change from the norm, Lorna’s long legs were on display; her little black dress was really very short where she normally wore longer gowns when out on the town.
Thaumatology 06 - Hammer of Witches Page 1
