A Witch’s Demons (Witch's Path Series: Book 6)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Witch’s Path Book 7 Excerpt
A Witch’s Demons
Witch’s Path Book 6
N. E. Conneely
Copyright © 2017 N. E. Conneely
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information-storage-and-retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author. Requests for permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the author. This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are made fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
To my fans:
Sorry it took so long.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Witch’s Path Book 7 Preview
Witch’s Path Book 7 Excerpt
Thank You
Also by N. E. Conneely
About the Author
Prologue
Tiffany
Tossing an empty bag of chips in the back seat, I sighed. Six hours. I’d been watching this place for six long damn hours and had yet to see the target. The woman who’d hired me wanted to know if her husband was cheating, so there I was, waiting to see if Hayato would show up at his mistress’s house.
The sun was starting to set and, with it, my hopes of an easily-tied-up job. After all, if I didn’t catch the guy tonight, I’d have to start tracking his movements, looking for whatever it was he was doing when he should’ve been with his wife. The life of a private detective wasn’t all that glamorous.
Checking my phone, I saw Amber’s text again. She was back to nagging me about mending fences with Michelle. I didn’t need the reminder that I’d been a bad friend. I was perfectly aware that I’d been a bitch when I’d broken up with my best friend because her work was dangerous. It was hardly Michelle’s fault she was good at her job and kept working more and more difficult cases. By their very nature, they were dangerous and spilling into the rest of her life, though she did her best to keep everyone safe.
At this point months had gone by, and I didn’t know how to fix the rift. Well, I knew how to fix it—go see Michelle and tell her how very sorry I was for what I said. Michelle would be understanding, and that was the worst part. It was like when my parents said I’d disappointed them. So much worse than any punishment they could concoct.
There were three problems with apologizing. One, I still thought I was right. Two, my pride wouldn’t let me crawl back and say I was sorry. And three, I didn’t want to feel like an ant when she was being so understanding.
I missed the witch, and it was my own damn fault.
I was a bad friend.
Thumping my head against the car seat, I wished for the thousandth time I could go back in time.
A Maserati parked down the street, and I grabbed my camera. Those cars weren’t common in north Georgia. This could be my guy.
The man stepping out of the car matched the picture of Hayato—clean-cut, black hair, slanting eyes, pale skin. Picking up my camera, I started snapping pictures. Now if I could get a shot of him with a woman, I’d be set.
His eyes swept over the street but didn’t linger on me. At least the low light was giving me some advantage. Apparently satisfied, he strode up the walk, unlocked the door, and went in. I kept taking pictures, but there wasn’t even a hint of someone inside.
Sighing, I set the camera down. I hated that part of my job. It always came down to choosing between two bad options. I could sit out here all night without seeing anything interesting. Or I could go into the yard and cozy up to a window while hoping no one spotted me. It wasn’t the most attractive choice, but with the darkening sky, I suspected I’d have better luck getting a picture through the window. And the reduced light would make it less likely someone would see me.
I gave it five more minutes, during which the sun dived out of sight. Camera in one hand and keys shoved in my pocket, I got out of the car. The street was empty, but there could still be people watching me from inside the houses. As casually as I could, I walked into the yard.
The windows on the front of the house had closed blinds, but people tended to be less concerned with blocking the rest of their windows, so I headed for the side of the house. The first window I came to didn’t have any blinds, but the room on the other side was dark. A quick scan of the street, its two-story cookie-cutter homes sitting at the end of concrete driveways, didn’t reveal anyone on the sidewalk or peeking through windows. Reassured that I hadn’t attracted too much attention, I continued through the yard. There was light coming from the next window, and if I was lucky, I’d be able to get the photographs I needed, get out of there, and get a nice check.
I could see two people inside the house, but they were near the back of the room and their backs were to me. From the long blond hair, I guessed one of them was a woman, but she wasn’t even touching the man. That picture wouldn’t prove anything to my client. I hunkered down, hoping they would turn around and I could get what I needed. As I adjusted the focus on the camera, I realized the guy I was looking at was too tall and slender to be the man I’d watched walk into the house.
After snapping a picture, I backed away from the window and started picking my way around bushes as I moved to the back of the house. After I passed two windows with tightly closed blinds, I found a large bay window that looked into a dining room. There, at the head of the table, was Hayato. He was sitting alone, a squat glass of what appeared to be whiskey by his elbow. It would’ve seemed normal enough, but there wasn’t a book, television, or anything else in the room. He was just alone.
I had to remind myself that
he couldn’t see me since it was night and the lights were on in the house. I was invisible to him. When his eyes lifted from the table and looked out the window, a chill went down my spine. Then his lips curved, but not in a satisfied smile. I tried to shake off the feeling that he could actually see me, but I couldn’t get over how creepy he looked.
Raising the camera, I quickly snapped a few pictures. There would be another time and another place to get the evidence that he was keeping company with a mistress. This all felt too strange, and I wanted to get out of there. Behind the glass, Hayato nodded slightly.
That was the moment when I realized I couldn’t move. I couldn’t turn to walk away. I couldn’t lift an arm. I couldn’t move my eyes, blink, or open my mouth, and my vocal cords refused to move. I couldn’t even scream.
After a moment of sheer panic, which would’ve been a lot more impressive if I’d been able to do anything, my brain settled down. I could still breathe, my heart was still pumping. I had time to figure this out.
Magic was being used on me, I was sure of it. Perhaps I’d tripped part of a security system. Or someone in the house was doing this to me. Maybe a neighbor had noticed me. I started hoping it was a neighbor because then I might get out of this without compromising the job.
“Ah, the investigator. Friend of the witch. Or is that former friend? The information was mixed.” A man’s voice slithered through the air on my right, and with it the little hope I’d had of getting out of this without being noticed vanished.
While my eyes were still open, I hadn’t actually been looking at what was in front of me. Hayato was missing from the dining room. If I had to guess, I’d say Hayato was out there in the yard with me.
“Tiffany Long, you will follow me.” His voice deepened. “We have much to discuss.”
I wanted to run, run as fast as I could and get away from there, but my feet didn’t listen. They walked me through the yard, up a couple of steps, and into the house. The lighting in the house was very bright after being in the dark. I wanted to blink to clear the spots from my vision, but I still couldn’t move my eyelids.
I couldn’t help but see the house. The gray tile floor didn’t have so much as a speck of dust. The kitchen lacked any normal countertop items like a coffee maker, mixer, or cooking utensils. The walls had a few pieces of art, but they were generic landscapes. This house was a rental. A nice rental, one that had been well maintained, but hardly in line with what I would expect from someone who could afford a Maserati.
Hayato sauntered past the dining room and into the living room. The floor transitioned to wood, and the cream couch and matching chair were as bland as the rest of the house. My body trailed along behind Hayato, with me a silent prisoner inside. Mrs. Blake, or that’s what she’d told me her name was when she’d hired me, was sitting on the sofa. She was a lanky woman with black hair, cold eyes, and a hard smile. On the end table beside her was a blond wig, the same one I’d seen on the woman when I looked through the window. I really wished I knew why she’d set me up.
Next to her was the man I’d seen through the window. He was at least two inches taller than Hayato, with an average build and dark brown hair.
Hayato leaned in. Now that I was close to him, I could see the flames in his eyes. Hayato was a demon.
I started praying for help. For Michelle, Elron, the police, anyone to come rescue me. I prayed like I’d never prayed before because I knew enough about demons to guess where this was about to go and I needed all the help I could get.
Hayato stepped back, the self-satisfied smile back on his face. “Are you Tiffany Long?”
I tried to say no but heard myself say yes.
“Good.” He nodded. “Do you know Michelle Oaks?”
“Yes.” The answer came out all on its own. Next time, I promised myself, I wouldn’t answer.
“Are you friends with Michelle?”
I just barely kept my lips together. I would not answer his questions.
“Are you Michelle’s friend?”
It was easier the second time. Not by much, but enough that I knew I could do this.
Hayato sighed. “I would prefer it if you simply answered my questions. If you continue to refuse, I have other methods of obtaining the information. I promise they will be less pleasant.”
A tear slid down my cheek. Nothing about this was going to be pleasant no matter what I chose to do. The last demon Michelle had encountered had left a trail of death behind. Simply by being here, I was likely to be part of the horror Hayato planned to unleash.
“Are you Michelle’s friend?”
Again, I managed to hold back the words.
“Very well.”
The fire in his eyes seemed to expand, and I could feel something in my mind. It was clawing its way through my brain, searching for the information it wanted. One after another, memories flashed through my head as pain pulsed in my temples.
When he finally found the ones of Michelle, the onslaught slowed and the pain receded to a more bearable level. Instead of experiencing dozens of memories all at once, I was reliving conversations I’d had with Amber about Michelle. He watched one conversation between Amber and me, about Michelle getting trapped in some magical maze, twice. Then he sped back to the day I told Michelle I didn’t want to be her friend. I’d told her I was afraid of something like this happening.
I guess I’d been right, but it would’ve been better to be right and spend the time with her than to be right and have been lonely for months.
Then he continued to dig his way through my recollections. What had hurt before was now agony, as if he were sawing through my mind with a dull spoon. He zoomed through pizza nights with Michelle and Amber, phone calls, and all the time we’d simply been friends. When he reached my memories of the two of us rescuing Amber from a crazy werewolf who was working with a demon, he slowed down, replaying the entire night three times.
As suddenly as he’d entered my brain, he was gone. Inside, I felt torn apart, stabbing pain filling my head. Silent tears trickled down my face. With the little that was left of me, I prayed for help.
Hayato turned to the two people on the couch. “Michelle is the witch who’s responsible for Ned’s capture and Gremory’s death.”
“How much does she know about us?” the woman asked.
Hayato glanced in my direction. “This one doesn’t know.”
The man shrugged. “Irrelevant. We need to kill anyone who knows about you. That’s how you’ve operated for thousands of years, and it’s what will ensure all of us continue to survive.”
“While I agree,” Hayato said, tapping his fingers against his thigh, “I also think it’s time we enjoy ourselves a little. After all this time in hiding, I want to feel like me again.”
The woman snorted. “Hiding has done little to curtail your activities. You have several hosts sitting in jail right now because of what you did while in their bodies.”
“Don’t play the innocent, Selma,” Hayato snapped back. “You’ve had plenty of fun too. We all have at one point or another.”
Selma dropped her eyes. “Yes, Father.”
The edge in Hayato’s voice was replaced with longing. “I remember days when I had a small kingdom, and on that land I did as I pleased.”
“Yes,” the man said. “And I wish I had been alive during those days.”
“Tom, my son.” Hayato smiled. “We would’ve had so much fun. I dream of a day when I can form a new kingdom and rule as I once did, only this time with my children at my side.”
Selma and Tom were completely focused on Hayato. While they were distracted, I tried to move, thinking that perhaps I could escape, but I still had no control over my body. Whatever Hayato had done to me, he’d done well.
“We should kill anyone who knows about us and return to our lives,” Tom said feverishly. “Especially the witch and elf. They have the knowledge of the Hunter. With only two holding the secrets, we have a chance to destroy them once and for all.”
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“They could’ve told others,” Selma added. “The demon Hunters of old were known to recruit new members faster than we could kill them.”
“Quiet, children.” Hayato stared at them until they dropped their eyes. “Can we agree that we must eliminate the witch and the elf?”
“Agreed,” Selma said.
The man simply nodded.
“Good.” Hayato nodded. “For now, it would be terrible to waste the opportunity we do have.”
Three sets of eyes turned and focused on me.
I prayed a little harder.
“You did lure her here, Selma. Would you like to begin?” Hayato asked.
“Oh, it would be my pleasure.” Her eyes raked across my body, and I started praying for a quick death. “Should we begin in here or move to the basement?”
Hayato grinned. “The basement. It makes cleanup so much easier.”
Chapter One
Elron
Michelle grinned as she set both hands against the beach ball that was a foot taller than her and shoved. It rolled across the yard. Ty, a purple T. rex with hot-pink stripes extending from his spine to his belly, snorted and trotted a few steps. He positioned himself in the path of the ball and nosed it in my direction. His eyes followed it as it rolled.
Stepping forward, I shoved the ball back at Ty.
He wagged his tail, making his whole body wiggle, and nudged the ball with his nose. It started to roll to Michelle but hit a rock and veered in my direction.