Westerham Witches and a Venetian Vendetta

by Dionne Lister

  As I struggled to think, I listened. I was alone—the lack of someone else breathing was a giveaway. Could I still use my magic? There was only one way to find out. I opened myself to the portal. Flickers of magic pulsed through from the river to me. It was less than half of what I was used to, and the flow was sporadic. Still, it should be more than enough to do some simple things.

  “Dissolve the ropes around my wrists and ankles.” The pressure around my limbs disappeared. I just had to hope whoever had put me here wasn’t within sensing-magic distance. I waited for a minute, listening, before I sat up. Sitting up was a terrible idea. Dizziness was like a punch to my face and guts. I carefully lay back down and took some deep breaths. It was me versus my concussion.

  After a few minutes, I decided to clean myself up. I didn’t move from where I was, but I drew some magic. Unfortunately, not much came through. I waited a bit longer and drew some more. Would my spell work, though? I didn’t have a visual on where I was, and the small amounts of power coming through the portal might not be enough to send something to another place. Plus, transporting things was only possible if I could visualise where I wanted it to go. Memories of before here surfaced.

  Crap.

  Isabella had hit me with something. Was it because her grandson was about to confess that he killed his dad? How long had I been here? It could’ve been minutes or days. Did Will know I was missing? Hmm, that gave me an idea.

  I started to draw on my power, which made me feel worse. Pushing through the pain and vertigo, I visualised all the vomit—what was on the ground and on me, moving to the floor in our hotel room. Gross, I knew, but Will would eventually discover it and know that I was alive. I could’ve transported it to somewhere else in the hotel, but if Isabella found it, she might suspect it was me and come to finish the job… the job of killing me, not the job of cleaning up.

  Before drawing enough power to cast the spell, I blinked and held my breath. Maybe Angelica was here in another room? Was I in an apartment or house?

  There was only one way to find out.

  I slowly sat up. My head spun, but not as badly as before. I swallowed the urge to vomit. Okay, so far so good. Well, sort of. No matter how I spun it, being clobbered in the side of the head and kidnapped wasn’t good. But it was an opportunity to find Angelica.

  I drew my magic again, which sputtered in and out. It was as if the flow from the river of magic was being held back, then allowed to come through. Could I spell my vomit away reliably, or might it end up halfway to where I intended, unceremoniously dropping from thin air onto an innocent person eating breakfast? Or was it lunchtime? There was no way to tell. Gah, stop thinking! Just get rid of it.

  I kept drawing magic, filling my natural reserves. Sweat slicked my forehead, and my cheeks heated. I might be overdoing it. Time to let the link to the river go and hope it was enough. “Send all the vomit in this room and on me to the hotel room I slept in the night we came to Venice.” That should cover it. I had no idea what day or night it was. What if I’d lain here for two nights? I shuddered at the prospect. The need to retch overcame me, but I jammed my mouth shut and swallowed. Using magic wasn’t the wisest thing with a concussion.

  Had it worked? I sniffed. The smell was gone. I patted myself down. Dry! Victory! Time to keep going. Estimating from what had transpired when I awoke, I figured the bed was to my left. Getting on hands and knees, I faced the opposite direction of the bed and carefully crawled until I came to a wall. Once I did that, I followed the wall to the right. It was a massive guess, but if it didn’t work out, I’d just go back the other way. The only reason I’d panic is if I was in a doorless, windowless room. I supposed it was possible where witches were concerned. I would make a doorway and leave, but the intermittent power made it sketchy. Maybe I’d try once I’d checked out the room; plus, I needed to look for Angelica, and if I left here, I’d never find my way back.

  So, no making a doorway until I’d scoped out the whole place.

  I’d reached the end of the wall. I slid my fingers along the adjoining wall, and there it was… a door. Slowly, I stood. My head pounded, but the dizziness was gone. Nausea remained. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about my concussion now. If only Beren were here. Ooh, my phone. Oh. My shoulders dropped as I pressed my palms against the door. My phone had been recording on my lap when I was hit. It would still be at the hotel, likely picked up by Isabella or her grandson. Damn!

  I took a moment to breathe and focus, then slid my hand down to find the handle. Yay, it turned! I cringed as I opened the door. Would it or would it not squeak? When it was open just enough, I slid through, avoiding any noise. So far so good.

  A narrow, horizontal window overlooking a staircase to my left faintly illuminated the hallway. It was night-time, but whether it was midnight or four in the morning, I couldn’t tell. Flashing green and red lights intermittently blinked slowly in the blackness. This place must be on the water, so likely I was still in Venice, and from the staircase and lack of a lock on the door, I was on the top floor of a big house rather than an apartment.

  Before going down the stairs, it would be prudent to check for Angelica up here first. I threw up a return to sender, in case I came across someone, but as soon as it was in place, it winked out. Damn. That intermittent magic was going to be a problem. I could cast quick spells, but anything that had to stay in place wouldn’t work. Was there a weird blip in magic access here, kind of like bad internet reception, or had Francesco and Isabella cast some kind of magic-blocking spell over the house? Whatever it was, it made me more vulnerable.

  As a test for later—because as soon as I confirmed whether Angelica was here or not, I wanted to leave—I drew magic from the river. It dribbled through, then stopped, then flowed for a few seconds, then stopped. Grrr. Unlike the internet and modem, there was no way to reset it by turning it off and on again. I stored what I could in my internal magic stash. After a few minutes, I finally had enough to make a doorway, but as soon as I tried to make it, it faded. There wasn’t nearly enough time to step through. What would happen if I’d been midway through the door when it disappeared? Would it delete me, drop me in the middle of the lagoon, or cut me in half like I’d done to the love of Dana’s life?

  Enough of the questions. If I could find Angelica, she’d know.

  Then the best idea ever happened. I could try and contact Will. When that stupid vampire witch had tried to kill me, we’d managed to talk over a long distance. This should be easy. I tried to ignore the thudding ache in my brain and concentrated on Will, on how much I loved him, what he sounded like, what he looked like, what his magic felt like. I drew on my core power. There he was! I could sense him. Will. Will, it’s Lily.

  Lily?! His mind voice sounded frantic and relieved all at the same time. Wh— r—

  Crap. It was like trying to talk over a line that was breaking up. I growled, then tried again. Will?

  Nothing. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. I sighed. I’d have to try again soon. Maybe I’d search the next couple of rooms and have another go. I made my way down the hallway. Another door to my right must be a room that backed onto the bedroom I’d just come from. I placed my ear against the door and listened. Silence. I gripped the handle and turned it super slowly, then pushed the door gently. I could’ve cried with happiness when no squeaks screamed, “Lily’s wandering around!” At least someone had been maintaining this place.

  This room was as dark as the last one, although a sliver of moonlight seeped in from the hallway. It was enough to make out shadows, but little else. I couldn’t tell if anyone was in here from my position in the doorway. Did I try and cast a trickle of light, or did I walk in and feel around? If someone was asleep in here, surely the faint light wouldn’t rouse them? I debated for a few throbs of my head—what I wouldn’t give for a headache tablet about now.

  I opened the portal of magic and syphoned some through to my personal reservoir. A small light wouldn’t take much at all. I held m
y hand out, palm up. Hopefully this would work without calling the killer witches down on my head. My heart galloped as I said in my mind, Cast faint light.

  A golf-ball-sized glow hovered in my palm, subtly illuminating the room… the empty room. I took a shuddering breath. The only things in here were a bed, freestanding wardrobe, and a dressing table and chair. I willed the light brighter. There was no evidence of Angelica having been in here recently. On to the next room.

  The next room was an empty bedroom, too, and the next—a bathroom through a door at the end of the hall opposite the stairs—was also void of life. There was one more door on this level, then I’d have to try downstairs. What if she wasn’t here? Think about that later if you need to. My brain was right, but before I tried the next room, I wanted to attempt talking to Will again.

  I drew power from my stomach reserves and concentrated. Sharp pain stabbed my forehead. I cringed and shut my eyes tight, but I wouldn’t give up. Will. Will, can you hear me?

  Yes! Where are you?

  I have no idea. In a house—

  Lily?

  Damn. I must be breaking up. Fatigue broke over me as my magic was close to being depleted. I stopped drawing from it and, leaning my back against the wall, slid to the floor. I hung my head and shut my eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. I stayed that way for a few minutes, trying to regain some energy. I opened myself to the river of magic and took in as much as I could in fits and starts. Frustration balled my fists. Searching this house was going to take forever.

  Maybe it was time to stop worrying about speaking to Will. There wasn’t much else I could tell him… well, except for Isabella and Francesco, but I couldn’t tell him where I was. Maybe I should just try walking out the front door when I was done? Whatever spell was on the house wouldn’t be outside. Such a genius, not thinking about it before. But to be fair to my brain, I had concussion. All I really wanted to do was lie in the foetal position and sleep for two years. If I did manage to find Angelica, I sure hoped she was in better condition than me; otherwise, how in the hell would I move her? Yet again, a problem for when it came time… if it came time.

  I swallowed and laboriously got to my feet. I grabbed the handle on the last upstairs door and slowly pushed down. When the door opened, it didn’t make a noise, but a pulse of power pushed me back a step. Then it was gone. I froze and strained my ears. What the hell was that? I glanced back into the hallway and at the stairs. It all looked the same in the gloom.

  I wished for my return to sender as I stepped into the room. Before I could chicken out, I created a small light in my palm. As the glow melted into every corner of the room, I sucked in a breath. Angelica! She was asleep or unconscious—I refused to think dead—lying on a single bed against the far wall.

  I hurried over and whispered as loudly as I dared. “Angelica. Angelica.” The light still hovering over one palm, I reached out with my other hand, my breath coming faster, my heart racing. Please don’t be cold. My fingertips alighted on her cheek. She was warm. Just to be sure, I felt her neck for a pulse. Oh my God, yes. I hitched in a deep breath of relief. I grabbed her shoulder and shook. “Wake up. Angelica, it’s me, Lily.”

  Crap.

  She wasn’t responding at all. What had they done to her? I drew some fitful magic from the river to my reservoir. It was time to try Will again. Will?

  I’m here.

  I found Angelica. She’s alive but unconscious.

  Where are you?

  Were they footsteps echoing from the stairs? I extinguished my light, just in case. I don’t know. Venice somewhere? I think someone’s coming. Yep, definitely footsteps. They stopped down the hallway, probably at the top of the stairs. Crap. I snuck to the door and peered around. A figure stood at the open doorway to the room I’d woken up in. The person was shorter than me, about my build, maybe slightly wider? It didn’t look like Francesco—he was too thin and taller than me. His mother was about my height, so it had to be Isabella. Was she here to help me or kill me? Mmm, dumb question, Lily, since she was the one who clocked you in the head. There was my answer.

  The light went on in my room. Yep, it was definitely Isabella. Had the pulse of power when I’d opened Angelica’s door been an alarm of sorts?

  I ducked back into Angelica’s room and silently shut the door. Surely Isabella would come looking for me in here next. I glanced around for somewhere to hide. There was one freestanding wardrobe, but that was too obvious. Maybe under the bed? I dropped to hands and knees and lifted the sheets that draped beneath the mattress. Yes! There was plenty of space. I crawled in, disturbing dust. Choking, I coughed into my arm. I hoped like hell that she hadn’t heard me. Although, for all she knew, it could be Angelica. Still, if I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, I was likely here somewhere. I shook my head at my exceptional logic. Good one, Lily.

  Now to wait. After that, who knew. I couldn’t beat her with magic…. Except, what if she couldn’t draw magic because of the wards on the house? At this stage, I had to assume that’s what was blocking the magic. I’d never come across another situation where access to the river of power behaved like an internet connection, which, let’s be honest, wasn’t great in Venice in amongst the tightly packed buildings. If I sensed her casting a spell, I’d jump straight on my return to sender, just in case she’d turned the power back on, so to speak. Being a civilian, it was unlikely she’d know what a return to sender was, so I’d have the upper hand.

  Footsteps shuffled outside the door. I tried to breathe as quietly as possible, but it sounded as loud as a freight train. It probably didn’t, but that’s what it felt like. I could just see the bottom of the door. It opened. Isabella’s shoes stood there for a moment, then the light switch clicked, throwing light into every corner of the room. Because of the dangling sheet, she wouldn’t be able to see me unless she actually got on the floor and looked under the bed. Fingers crossed she was too old to physically do it.

  She stepped into the room. Crap. Maybe they really didn’t want to hurt us. If they had, wouldn’t Angelica be dead already? She wasn’t turned to glass as far as I could tell. Maybe they just wanted to slow down the investigation? Although kidnapping and injuring a PIB agent was a sure way to get you thrown in jail when it was all over. So now they had more to lose. It didn’t make sense.

  Her black orthopaedic sandals brought her all the way to the bed. I cringed at the proximity of her feet to my face. Gross. I could clearly see the cracked skin of her big toe. It was literally within spitting distance. I shuddered. Why me? My gag reflex kicked in. Oh, God, I needed to keep quiet. If she found me because I was dry heaving over the proximity of her feet, I’d be so annoyed. I wanted to look away from the feet, but I needed to know if she found me and was going to do something. There was no option but to suffer.

  She said something in Italian—to herself or Angelica, I had no idea. She turned and walked in the direction of the wardrobe. The door creaked open, and after a moment, the thud of it closing had adrenaline ramping up in my body, increasing my heart rate and making me hyperaware. I itched to jump out of my hiding place and run, but I gritted my teeth and stayed. If the universe was in a good mood, maybe she’d leave without finding me.

  The feet came back to the bed. Damn it.

  “Lily, are you under there?”

  Double damn it. Bloody universe.

  “Lily?”

  I didn’t answer. If she was going to find me, she’d have to work for it.

  “You going to make an old woman get on the floor?”

  Yes, yes I was. And I wouldn’t even feel guilty for it.

  Her knees bent, and the mattress squeaked as she rested her hands on it and slowly lowered herself to the floor. Once she knelt, it wasn’t long before her eyes peered under the bed, and our gazes met.

  The game was up.

  She smiled a grandmotherly smile—should I trust it or not? Hmm, she’d smashed me in the head and could’ve killed me. If I trusted her, I was an even bigger idiot than I g
ave myself credit for. “Why did you hit me? You could’ve killed me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I must protect my family. My daughter, she is an idiot. I told her not to marry him, but she didn’t listen. The only good thing to come from that marriage was my grandson. Now, get out from there. If I stay here much longer, I will not be able to get up.”

  Like I cared. Maybe I should push her over and run. But could I really do that to an elderly lady? She wasn’t threatening me right now, which made hurting her impossible. Injuring a defenceless-looking person went against everything I stood for. Yes, she’d assaulted me earlier, but if her intent had been to kill me, I’d already be dead. At least, that’s what I told myself. “What if I don’t want to get up? And what happens now? If you kill me or Angelica, you’ll be hunted down by the PIB. You might be trying to save your family, but not only will whoever killed Mr Dal Lago go to jail, you will too for kidnapping me.”

  She started laughing. Her chuckle quickly billowed to hysterics. She guffawed as tears streamed down her cheeks. What the hell? This was the moment I should’ve picked to slide out from under the bed and run, but even though she was incapacitated, she blocked the way. I sighed. This was not going to plan. How unusual.

  Dust tickled my nose, and I sneezed.

  “Salute.”

  I figured that meant bless you. “Grazie.” Look at me, being all Italian and stuff.

  At least Isabella had stopped laughing. Staying here would solve nothing, so I supposed it was time to get out from under here and reassess the situation. Angelica couldn’t save herself, so it was up to me. “All right. I’ll come out.”

  She smiled. “Good girl.” Isabella stood and moved out of my way.

  I slid out and got to my feet. Dust coated my front. I patted myself down, sending motes into the air, which made me sneeze again. Angelica, however, slept on. My forehead tightened. “What did Francesco do to her?”