Witch for Hire

by Shyla Colt

  The issue was the violent shift of their mischief. We’ve narrowed down the most likely angry spirits to a boarder killed in a row outside the property, named Charlie Ryans, a previous inn manager known for his cruelty, Henry Parker, and the unknown man who murdered the young girl. We’ve scoured the records. Now it’s time to conduct our first session in the building. I park outside the B&B and grab my bag out the trunk. Sacha and Fel pull up next.

  “These late nights are dicking with my circadian rhythm,” Sacha grumbles.

  I can’t contain the yawn that her words invoke. “I know. I woke up completely disoriented around six this evening.”

  “Guys. Ghost hunters.” Fel gestures toward us with her perfectly manicured hand. Still can’t figure out how she has the time to get her nails done! “We can’t sleep when the spirits are mucking about. We’re on their time now. If they’re not at rest, we won’t be either.”

  “Wow, you really went all Winchester there,” I say with a laugh.

  She childishly sticks her tongue out at me. “You suck.”

  “No, she’s totally right. It was kind of hot,” Sacha teases.

  Fel rolls her eyes. “You know what I meant.”

  The two-story white house with dark green storm shutters and decorative wrought iron railing is a throwback to time gone by. Similar to the homes near the quarters, it stands out in the area.

  “I do. We’re burning the wick at both ends, but we’re at the tail end of this case.”

  “Good ’cause I’m going to sleep for a week afterward,” Sacha says.

  We split the bags between us and walk up the stairs. Taking the key from my pocket, I unlock the heavy wooden door. Built in the early 1800s, the home is like a snapshot in time. Similar to the homes in New Orleans Garden district it has a certain charm not often seen in this part of Louisiana. I turn the lock and push. I can sense the activity.

  “Holy crap. I think the business is still booming on the other side,” Sacha says with a snicker.

  “It’s certainly active. I could understand why they’d be upset if they never realized they were gone until the house started to be changed.” I peer around. We’ve walked the home during the day, and set up cameras.

  “Let’s head to home base.” We’re using the office as our base. We’ve got multiple cameras connected to our computer. We pull out the voice box, our EMF meters, and tape recorders. The motion sensor has been set up in the known hot spot. If something moves, we’re going to see and hear about it.

  “Remember the rules?” Fel asks.

  “One on the cameras, two together at all times. Constant contact with the group via walkies.” I press down on the receiver, and her’s beeps.

  “Good job, go find us some ghosties.” Fel plops down in the brown leather chair. “I’ll take the first shift here.”

  “And then there were two,” I mumble.

  “Don’t get too comfortable. I’m coming back for the chair,” Sacha says. The beam of light slices through the darkness. The negative space created seems alive with things just out of view.

  “I liked this place during the day, but now …”

  “It’s creepy as hell?” I ask.

  “Yes.” The floorboards creak under my feet. The hairs on the back of my arms and neck stand on end.

  I glance left, toward a long, dark hallway. “Where do they say the most activity happens?”

  “In the Gone with the Wind Bedroom,” Sach says with a shaky laugh.

  “These names, dude. Let’s do an EVP session there.”

  We carefully navigate the steep stairs, grasping the handrail. We reach the top and I freeze as I stare down the dark hallway.

  “What?” Sach’s breath tickles the back of my neck as she moves closer.

  “I thought I saw a shadow move.”

  She leans closer. “ I don’t see anything. Let’s just go to the room.”

  We walk quickly to the room. Goosebumps break out over my flesh. The feeling of beign watches settles over me. “Did you feel the temperature drop?” I shiver. She uses the temperature meter. “Yeah, it’s six degrees colder here than in the rest of the room.”

  “Is that you?” I record a few moments of silence. “Can you tell us your name? Why are you here? Do you know that you’re hurting people?” I play the tape back. A raspy yes makes me gasp.

  “Did you hear that?” Sach whispers.

  “I did. Yes, he knows he’s hurting people?”

  “Why are you hurting them?” I ask, recording the silence.

  “My house.” The response is so clear it sends chills.

  “Do you understand the building needs upkeep? Without it, the place with go into disrepair. They’re preserving the home.”

  I play the tape back. “Now he’s silent.”

  “Do you think he was upset about them changing the house, or he wanted them out?” Sach asks.

  “I’m not sure. It feels like he’s gone now.”

  “Let’s try the ghost box,” she says, taking the lead.

  “If there’s anyone here who wants to talk to us, if you go to this gray box, we can hear you.” She glances around.

  “Hi.”

  The voice makes us jump.

  “Who are we talking to right now?” Sacha says.

  “Mary.”

  My jaw drops. There were records of a maid named Mary who died of Yellow Fever.

  “Why are you still here, Mary?” I ask.

  “Home.”

  “Oh my God,” I whisper.

  We stay for fifteen more minutes before we decide to move on to another room before meeting back with Fel.

  “What happened?” Fel asks.

  “A lot.”

  “We have plenty of activity. I think the spirits were upset about her changing the house. They didn’t understand why she was doing it, or what was happening next. For the most part. The Sspirits here seem pretty happy,” Sacha says.

  “I agree.”

  “How do you think we can fix it?” Fel asks.

  “I think if we get a medium in here to let them know they’re welcome to stay as long as they behave, and explain the changes being made, the activity will stop. We need to monitor the rest of the home to make sure there are no negative spirits, but I think the ones here protect this space. They seemed very possessive over the house.”

  The rest of the night proves to be dull. We have a few more EVP’s, but they seem to be on their best behavior. We’ll have to review the footage carefully, but I think this is an easy fix.

  I frown when my phone rings at three-thirty.

  “Hello?”

  “I heard you and your undead family are in some trouble, friend.”

  “Hal?” I say, peering at the unlisted number.

  “The one and only.”

  “Yeah, we have a pest problem we’re working on having exterminated.”

  “I think I might be able to help you with that.”

  I sit up straight. “What do you know?”

  “I’m having a drink at Sweet Tooth, and there are some new faces I don’t recognize who seem to be on the all you can eat plan.”

  Sweet Tooth is a vampire run establishment where locals can come to get a drink and mingle without fear of discovery.

  “They’re running up a tab like rock stars. I know the scent and the smell of the new.”

  “And their sire?”

  “Nowhere to be seen. But they are with a witch.”

  “Shit. Okay, thanks for the tip.”

  “You’ll excuse me if I don’t stick around for the fireworks.” The silence is infuriating and amusing at the same time. She’s got a thing for the cloak and dagger bit. I dial Cristobal.

  “Hello, dove? How’s ghost hunting.”

  “Eventful. I just got a tip. There are s
ome interesting baby vamps over at Sweet Tooth … with a witch.”

  “Do you think it might be them?” The mirth melts away from his voice.

  “I think we can’t afford to not investigate.” I hear Luz’s laughter ring out in the background along with Larkin’s quieter murmur.

  “It’s probably trap.”

  “I’m sure it is. I’ll take Luz, Larkin, and scout.”

  “I want to go.”

  “No.” His stern voice holds no give.

  “You can’t keep me in bubble wrap.” My voice raises an octave as my throat grows tight. I clutch the cellphone tighter.

  “And I’m not trying to. This is a strategic move. You are the one they want right now. I’m not going to deliver you to their party gift wrapped.” He snarls heatedly.

  “I’m not going to sit on the sidelines—” I match his tone as my anger rises.

  “I never asked you to be. I’m asking you to be patient and smart. This is a scouting mission. I can’t do that if I’m worried about you. Bring Fel home with you. I don’t want you alone.” He commands.

  “And what will you do against a witch?” I ask sarcastically.

  “We both know I have means of defending myself. Have you forgotten I have magic of my own?”

  Shit, he’s going to use his powers.

  “Criso—” The silence mocking me in my ear is maddening.

  “Fuck that.”

  “Girls, we have to go.”

  “What’s going on?” Sacha asks.

  “Witchy’s making a move, and Cristobal made the mistake of thinking I’d let him face her alone.”

  “All of this will hold. We can come back, break it down, and review tomorrow,” Sasha assures me.

  I place a hand on my stomach.

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t listen to him?” Fel asks.

  I shake my head. “Yes. I have a bad feeling about this. Being separated is the last thing we need to do.”

  We have the house closed and locked in ten minutes flat. A sense of urgency gives my feet wings as we pile into the car and pull away from the building. We’re an hour away from Sweet Tooth, and my stomach is in knots.

  “Do you trust Hal, though?” Sacha asks.

  “The jury’s still out on that one. Her information hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

  “Do you think she’s working with them? What if Hal is the one working with the witch?” Fel asks.

  “Then we’re in for a long, bloody battle. I don’t think so, though, because he has his hands full dealing with his own territories, and New Orleans is its own beast to keep tame and manageable. He seemed sincere about wanting the truce to hold when he came down.”

  “I hope you’re right. Cypress doesn’t need two vampires going head to head,” Sacha says.

  “Ain’t that the—” The front of the car slams into the ground and the rear comes off the ground. Glass explodes around us. Sacha and Fel’s screams fill the car. Mine is stuck in my throat. I close my eyes and duck down in my seat. Tiny cuts sting on my face, neck, and arms. My neck screams in protests. Something hot and thick trails down my face. I open my eyes, trying to focus as my body shakes.

  I turn my head to look at Fel and peer in the rearview at Sacha. Their faces are lined with nicks, but they appear whole. “Is everyone okay?” The car jerks. Air floods into the cabin as the doors are ripped off. I raise my hand. Energy crackles in my palm. A whoosh of air rolls over me, and I scream when my wrist is snapped like a twig. Pain shots up my arm, blurring my thoughts as I’m sent flying from the car. Vampires. I slam into the ground, jarring my injury. I roll over and find a foot planted in my stomach. I curl into myself while the blows reign down.

  I mutter a spell that sends them flying and roll over. Clutching my arm against my body, I get to my knees and try to take in the situation. A small army of newly made vampires surrounds me. My vision blurs. I sway. I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood to bring me back. I throw up a spell and struggle to my feet. They rush through the barrier, and I know the witch is near. I think a spell in my head, and send down holy oil. An artifact of faith will harm a vampire wishing you harm.

  There’s a beast inside them, just like with Weres. They hiss. Smoke rises from their skin. Enraged, and bespelled, they ignore the pain and rush me. The silence from Fel and Sacha has me concerned more for them than myself. Neither is the type to go down without a fight. I reach deep down and form a crackling ball of green energy. I send it out, searing a hole through the twelve deep circle. Like zombies, they continue to close in around me as a new one takes the place of the fallen.

  I can feel the others rushing toward me. My relief is fleeting as I’m snared by a spell that roots me to the spot. Weakened, I struggle to break her hold. Teeth graze my neck and sink in deep. My neck catches fire as the male vampire drinks deeply. I scream. Energy explodes from me. I fly back as bodies catch fire in a green blaze.

  Propped up by my good hand, I reach for the dying flicker of power left. My lids are heavy, and my muscles shake. The remaining vampires are blocked from my view as I’m surrounded. I know the auras instantly. My family by proxy, the inner court has arrived. My arm gives and I flinch as the ground rushes up to meet me, only to find myself caught in a pair of strong arms.

  I peer up at a concerned Marcellus. He rips into his wrist and holds it to my mouth.

  “Drink.” Behind him, the anguished screams of baby vampires pierce the silence.

  I shake my head. “The girls,” I croak.

  “Are safe with Percival and Rene,” he assures me. “Now drink.”

  “I think that’s my line.”

  Tears roll down my face as Cristobal kneels in front of me with the same offer. I suck his wrist into my mouth. Spicy, hot, and slightly sweet, his blood coats the back of my throat. I suck it down, greedily. It goes to work, healing me from the inside and replenishing my strength. I pull away, full. He darts in, lapping at the blood around my mouth. I shiver as the energy crackles between us.

  “Better?” he whispers.

  “Yes.” My voice is husky, and my body is hot as my it works overtime to repair the damage done. I sit up.

  “We brought you a present.” Marcellus forces a fledgling onto his knees.

  “The rest are dead,” Luz appears beside him, bloody with amber eyes and a satisfied smirk on her face.

  This must be what Amazons looked like after battle.

  “The hunt is just beginning,” I promise.

  Cristobal rises, offering me his hand, and I use my improved vision to seek out Fel and Sacha. Where are they?

  Here. I turn and focus on Percival and Rene who have them held gently in their arms. “They’re fine. Out cold. I think they were spelled expectantly,” Percival calls. I nod. It’s like a hive mind, willing my thoughts through the inner group. I can sense their locations and status. They’re all fine save for a few war wounds.

  “Can you track her with him?” Cristobal asks.

  “I’m sure as hell going to try. Marcellus, hold him.”

  The blond places the Youngling in a headlock. I put a hand on either side of his head and delve into the tangled web of his fractured mind. He wasn’t made to turn. He’s a revenant, an empty shell with one mission, and an unquenchable thirst. Images and thoughts are like shattered glass, broken into a million pieces, chaotic, and sharp. It’s like placing my hand in barbwire. This bitch of a witch is good at inflicting pain from afar. I’m ready to get up close and personal and see how she holds up.

  I ignore the pain and piece together what I can. It’s like watching an old-fashioned film on a projector after it’s been damaged badly. Gritting my teeth, I continue to view it. A shadow flickers in the back.

  “Got you, witch,” I mumble. I freeze the frame and zoom in. The moment I see the luxurious curls I know. I gasp. No. I zoom in fur
ther, shedding light onto the shadows. There’s no mistaking the heart-shaped face, cruel think lips, and familiar features. It’s Tante Odette. Her gaze meets mine, and I know she’s really seeing me.

  “How fast can you run, Louella?” I get the image of Mémé’s house, and my stomach drops. Crack. The Youngling’s head explodes. Bits of bone, brains, and blood fall with a loud pop.

  “Mémé.”

  “Rene, Miles, guard them with your life.”

  “I’m on it, Lou.”

  Cristobal holds out his hand, palm up, his gaze meeting mine. In their chocolate depths, I can see his concern. “Take my hand.”

  I twine our fingers, and the world races by in a blur. I can feel Luz, Percival, and Marcellus trailing us. I send my gratitude, as I prep for the worst.

  The minute we breach the land I can feel something is wrong. My gut knots. The sky is a whirling vortex of clouds. Thunder booms and lighting cracks, lighting up the pitch blackness. The closer we get to the home, the worse the storm grows. Wind pulls at my hair and clothing. My anxiety spikes. The sight outside the house turns my blood cold. Twelve witches are gathered in the yard, standing around the circle that has a pentagram drawn on the grass, glittering with power. Tante Odette stands at the head.

  “What is this?” I cry.

  A witch with dark hair turns toward me, smiling a mad hatter grin. Streaks of gray stand out at her temples. Her filmy covered eyes make my stomach ache. Her black shift brushes the ground and she tilts her head studying Cristobal. “You should have killed me, Cristobal. You left a loose end that’s come back to steal everything you’ve built.”

  “What the hell is she talking about?” I ask.

  The witch laughs. “Someone’s been keeping secrets.”

  “Soulange?” Cristobal whispers.

  “Give it up, Mother. It’s time for a new way of life,” Tante cries, drawing my attention back to her.

  “Girl, power can only be given, not taken. Don’t you understand that yet?”