War Witch

by Layla Nash

  Leif shoved the recycle bag at me as he pushed between me and the External, so at least the bullets had to go through him before they killed me. “Stefan. Normally I’d be surprised to find you lurking in a bloody room, but this is becoming a habit of yours.”

  The External didn’t lower his weapon, but instead shuffled to the side to try and get a better shot at me. My heart beat faster in anticipation, and I tried not to let the wild magic take over as Stefan’s eyes narrowed. “The witch is violating at least four laws as we speak, and she is wanted for questioning related to two murders, the use of dark magic, and a handful of other crimes. As you well know. So perhaps I ought to call the Judge. He would want to know the Alliance is harboring felons.”

  “Nice try,” Leif said. He took a step, his posture more aggressive than I expected. “Soren requested the witch’s assistance with this crime scene.”

  “She is a suspect in this crime!” Stefan gripped the pistol harder, knuckles white.

  “Threaten her, and you threaten the Alpha.”

  “She’s a criminal.” The External shook his head. “We’ve worked together for several years, Leif. I am disappointed that you’d choose some female over the work we’ve done to make this city safer for humans and Others alike.”

  My heart sank. He sounded sincerely disappointed, something almost like betrayal in his eyes. Like somehow the brotherhood of law enforcement would supersede Leif’s loyalty to the Alliance. Maybe it did. Maybe he doubted.

  “Why are you here, Stefan? The Alliance still owns this crime scene. We need to check a few more things, then we can arrange for your investigators to have access.” Leif’s shoulders flexed and his hands clenched into fists.

  The whole time, the canvas bag weighed heavier and heavier in my arms with the weight of the grimoires and fingerbones and all the other dark stuff. I shifted my feet, prepared to run or hex if things went sideways.

  Leif’s arm swung out to keep me behind him as Stefan tensed, and the Warder tapped a small metallic device affixed to his belt. A small light flashed on it, and I frowned more as I pondered its meaning. It definitely wasn’t magic.

  Stefan adjusted his grip on the weapon as his arm started to droop. “We received an anonymous tip about some dark magic here. The Bureau will investigate any allegations of that kind without hesitation. And here we are, a dark witch on the premises.”

  “Why didn’t you alert my office that a tip of that nature was submitted? You’re in no position to investigate magical leads.” Leif folded his arms over his chest, a hint of a growl starting in his chest.

  “The tip indicated the Alliance might be complicit in the activities here,” Stefan said. “You can imagine our concern with alerting you to our suspicions.”

  “Yet you just did, and I’m not in any mood to listen to that bullshit.” Leif shook his head and pointed at the door. “Get out, Stefan. The Bureau is no longer going to have access to this crime scene based on your continuous lack of disclosure and openness. Soren will take this up with the Judge.”

  “I’m not leaving without that witch in chains.” The External’s lips thinned as he stared at me, sweat breaking out on his forehead as his eyes flashed with some kind of murderous zeal. “And you have to declare when you use nonaligned witches for official business, so it seems we are both remiss.”

  “Go write up the complaint. Standard Form 76A, if I remember correctly. But get the fuck out of my crime scene.” All semblance of professional courtesy evaporated as Leif advanced another step.

  Stefan retreated, though his weapon swung to aim at Leif instead of me. Which was an even bigger mistake than threatening me. The Warder growled more, his muscles tensing, and some dark hair sprouted along the backs of his arms.

  “She’s coming with me,” Stefan said. His tone remained utterly convinced of his own rightness. “She’s nonaligned and guilty of murder, and she’s holding magic, threatening me, and—”

  “She’s holding magic because I instructed her to,” Leif said. “I can’t stand the smell. If you want to try and arrest her, come back with a full team.”

  “The Bureau is requiring all nonaligned witches to register in order to protect them—”

  “The Alpha extended his protection to all nonaligned witches until this issue with disappearances is resolved. I would be surprised if any witches reached out to the Bureau for your…hospitality.”

  Stefan’s expression hardened. “You son of a bitch.”

  Not such a damning insult with the wolves, really. My head tilted as I calculated the possible repercussions if I just hexed Stefan, maybe killed him. It would be easy enough—I already held more than enough magic, and the hex to stop his heart waited on the tip of my tongue. I doubted Leif would turn me in, but bodies—particularly human ones—were difficult to get rid of quietly.

  I kept my war witch face impassive as Dad murmured in my memory, Never let them see you sweat, kiddo. I glared at Stefan as I eased around Leif’s side, no longer so worried about the weapon the External carried. A ward would be an easy thing as well, to at least slow the bullets. They didn’t know we could do that. Seeing the look on his face might have been worth revealing the trick.

  Stefan’s cold gaze landed on me as he reached a stalemate with the Warder. “Got something to say, witch? Cat got your tongue?” His gaze slid to Leif, and the External’s expression turned ugly. “Or should that be wolf?”

  That was it. I dropped the bag and brought my hands up, a hex already forming as I shoved past Leif and covered us both behind a ward. I knew the magic might disturb what remained from the night the witches were attacked, but I’d had enough of Stefan’s accusations and lies. The moment I approached him, magical alarms went off and he stumbled back, swinging the gun as he squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times.

  Even behind the wards, it was deafening. Leif roared and grabbed me around the waist, but I didn’t budge. I winged Stefan as Leif threw off my aim and the External fired more, and I gritted my teeth as magical shrapnel threatened to destroy the scene.

  The front door swung open and a semi-familiar figure skidded into the house, pulling a face as they stepped on the sticky carpet. I recognized the oil rainbow aura and the blurry face as Eric held her hands up, still wearing her male face, and shouted over the gunfire. “What the hell is going on?”

  She didn’t seem even moderately concerned that Stefan felt threatened enough to shoot at us, which appeared to piss him off even more. I kept the ward up but stopped trying to kill him. “He entered the house unannounced and surprised us, then threatened us. I defended us.”

  Leif snarled and once more pushed me behind him, looming larger as he faced two Externals instead of one. “I have a reaction team on the way. One more move and you’re both dead, understood?”

  Eric fidgeted with the collar of her trench coat, grimacing as she looked around, then her gaze slid to Leif and a hungry smile spread across her real face. The fake face betrayed only polite surprise as she nodded to him. “Let’s try to sort this out without anyone going to the hospital.”

  Leif’s knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists more. “Get out. File whatever complaints you want. We have work to do and you’re impeding our investigations.”

  The scent of blood and death wouldn’t help Leif’s control over the beast. Any extra bloodshed would definitely change what we could learn from the spell over the coven’s demise, but... A berserk rampage to kill both Externals would solve a couple of my more pressing personal problems.

  “Sure, sure.” Eric tapped her chin. “We can assist with the investigation, if—”

  “We’re not here to investigate,” Leif said. “The Alliance is focused right now on giving our dead a proper pyre.”

  Lies, all of it, but with the way Stefan still glared at me, I didn’t mind. I should have killed him. Leaving him alive just meant another threat in the night, waiting for vengeance.

  Eric offered a tight, conciliatory smile as she retreated. “Then we
leave you to your work, with my sincere condolences.”

  Stefan didn’t budge, his teeth practically cracking as he clenched his jaw. His hand shook with the weapon, and he started to move it just as what seemed like an entire hockey team of chaos rolled through the front door.

  Leif’s Styrma, a little late to the party as usual.

  The stormtroopers spread out around the perimeter of the room, weapons and attention trained on Stefan—who at least knew when he was outnumbered and mostly beaten. He uncocked the pistol and shoved it into his holster under the wary gaze of the Styrma. “This isn’t over, wolf.”

  “Bet your ass.” Leif’s teeth flashed white and even in another threat.

  Stefan grudgingly stomped through the scene, ignoring the bloody mess, and shoved past Eric on his way out the door. Eric nodded to everyone and turned, about to follow his colleague, but Leif cleared his throat. “Agent.”

  “It’s Agent Smith. Eric Smith.” Her pudgy fake face barely blinked.

  Leif eased closer, a hint of a predator in his posture. “Have we met?”

  “I was there at the bar, but we weren’t formally introduced. I don’t believe we’ve worked together.”

  The Warder shook his head. “It’s something else. You’re... familiar.”

  My throat closed as panic set in. Could shifters recognize loki?

  Eric shrugged, still a slightly dumb semblance of a cop. “Well, I hope we can work together in the future.”

  “Maybe.” Leif didn’t sound particularly hopeful. “And a word of advice. If Stefan tries to detain any witches—aligned or not—they will have approval from Soren to defend themselves with any means necessary. Unofficially, of course.”

  “Of course.” Eric nodded once more, then disappeared out the door.

  Leif grunted, uninterested in her departure, then faced me. He studied his hands. “Do you know him, Lily?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Just curious. You know him?”

  I shook my head, cognizant of all the stormtroopers watching us, and released the wards so I could retrieve the recycle bag with all the dark shit and move it out of the way. “No, I’ve never met him.”

  It was only a small lie. A very small lie.

  Chapter 35

  Once the Styrma at the door confirmed the Externals departed, Leif looked at me. “Now what?”

  “Now’s the exciting stuff.” I handed him the tote bag and studied the room’s layout. Sustaining a large circle would be dicey with borrowed magic, but there was no telling where the battle started and ended.

  Leif and the stormtroopers watched as I paced a slow circle through the room. “What are you doing?”

  I concentrated on weaving my intent for our safety and the purpose of the spell into each step, and shooed one of the younger shifters out of the circle before I completed the first circuit. After I’d finished the third and locked in the ward, I paused near the front door. “I set the circle to contain the spell. No one break it.”

  “Or what?”

  I didn’t bother to look at Jake; he was the only one impertinent enough to question a war witch. “Or you’ll die a horrible death and ruin any chance we have of finding out who killed the witches.”

  Leif cleared his throat as I gathered more power in a steady build, letting the remnants of Kyle’s magic and the wild pack magic smooth and disperse into the spell. “What exactly are you going to do, Lily, to figure out who did what?”

  I winced, pausing until I cleared the sound of my name from my mind. “No names until I say so,” I said, and squinted at the bloody living room. Even through the cold unconcern of magic, I hesitated to invoke the spell. I didn’t want to see any more friends die.

  Static crackled in my veins as the magic seethed. “I’m going to see if the house will show what happened.”

  “But it’s…a house.” The Warder peered at the bloody mess of the carpet, then around at the ceiling and walls. “It’s not sentient. It doesn’t have memory.”

  Maybe I was a coward. I should have invoked the spell and let them see what I meant, but I welcomed the delay. “The ancient Maya believed consecrated ground absorbed the energy of the faithful, stored it, and built upon it. This house had a coven working in it for years, casting powerful spells, convening as friends. Those connections are powerful magic. The house absorbed that.”

  “And this helps us?”

  “We should see the replay of everything that happened that night—if I get the spell right and have enough magic to sustain it to the end.”

  “And if you get it wrong?” Jake, the cheeky bastard, had stalked closer, eyes dark with anticipation as he prowled.

  I waved my hands to distribute the magic into a dome over the living room, invisible until I squinted and everything faded except the blue-silver sheen. “You all die horrible deaths. I’ll be fine.”

  It wasn’t entirely true, regardless of what I hoped. They’d die in the backlash of the magic, or the magical overload would force them into uncontrolled shifts and they’d go mad in wolf form. The magic would destroy the crime scene, and the wolves would do the rest. And odds were I would be too weak to defend myself against rampaging werewolves. So it would be a horrible death for me as well.

  At least it wasn’t dark.

  “No more talking.” I held up my hands for silence and waited until they all nodded and Jake even mimed zipping his lips, then I pressed my right hand into the dome as I invoked the spell.

  It didn’t require a fancy Latin poem or dramatic gestures. A powerful witch could invoke spells by intent alone. All I needed was power and the desired outcome, and the spell unfurled. In comparison, Anne Marie looked like no more than a crude illusionist.

  The air inside the dome sparked as lightning zinged within the circle. Ghostly figures appeared and I manipulated the spell through time until Tracy stood frozen in mid-step, an eerie avatar with a question on her face.

  I shifted my feet, though I kept my hands steady for fear of losing the connection. “When I release this, the evening will unfold. I don’t have the power to do it over, so pay attention. Bear witness. And by all the saints, don’t break the circle.”

  Silence answered. I took that as acquiescence and released the spell. The image wavered and I held my breath, then Tracy completed her step and moved through the living room. Sounds filtered to us, as tinny as the pre-Breaking records my parents loved.

  The Styrma jumped at a faint knocking, looking around to see whether any more Externals dared interrupt us. I sucked in a deep breath as Tracy headed for the door and walked into where I stood, disappearing out of view of the dome of magic. Leif, next to me, tripped over the tote bag as he dodged out of the way, but I remained rooted to the spot. My heart flinched at the cool breeze of a ghost’s passing.

  I pushed any thoughts of ghosts away as Tracy reappeared, and the rest of the coven, except for Anne Marie, followed her into the living room. They dispersed throughout the house, comfortable enough in her space to meander into the kitchen for drinks or down the hall to the bathroom. For a moment the easy comfort of a coven—even a dysfunctional one—lured me in and sparked jealousy in my stomach. I missed that, maybe more than I knew.

  I shook myself out of the reverie and cleared my throat. “Warder, please name the participants.”

  “Names or nicknames?” At least he remembered that much.

  “Names are okay. Except for…the dead. Do not name them.” We didn’t need to summon them back as ghosts, not so soon after their passing. As much as I loved and missed Joanne and Rosa, I didn’t want them tied to Tracy’s home for eternity, unable to find their own rest.

  His rough voice drowned out the banal small talk of the witches. “Tracy, in red. Beside her, Betty in the skirt and Lauren in the green sweater. Andre by the television, and Jacques near the window. And—one more I don’t know. The woman who came out of the back room.”

  The magic trembled when he said Andre’s name, and my heart sank.
He had also passed, then. His body was the one yet to be identified. My stomach turned over to think of what had happened that the Alliance couldn’t identify him. I sucked back the grief and focused on the mystery woman.

  “Desiree,” I breathed, and the image hiccupped.

  Another ghostly knock drew Tracy to the door, through me, and Jake blanched as he retreated another step. “Creepy.”

  The Warder stepped back as the Morrigan entered the circle. “Her too?”

  “No,” I said, a vindictive anger goading me to flick Anne Marie’s ear one more time. My lip curled as Desiree and Jacques fawned over Anne Marie and the warding box she carried. I used the language she spoke in her youth, a guttural Quebecois dialect. “Anne Anastasia Annette Marie de Sousse. La sorciere.”

  Static overrode the image and darkness collapsed the dome as thunder rolled from the center and out. Anne Marie stood alone in the living room, her figure frozen as the rest of the ghosts wisped away.

  The darkness dissipated until the witches came back into focus, and the coven once more filled the living room. Leif cleared his throat. “What the hell was that?”

  “Just wanted to wake her up a bit,” I said. “In case she was sleeping.”

  “That was immature,” Leif muttered, though something like a smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

  Jake, however, eyed me with reproach. “You could wake the dead like that.”

  “No,” I said, not looking at him as Anne Marie gathered the witches in a half-circle. “That requires a spell with a little more... oomph.”

  Anne Marie raised her hands to the witches. “I’m glad you all could make it.”

  A frown twisted Joanne’s kewpie doll mouth. “The Externals are everywhere, Anne Marie. I don’t think this—”

  “I have my reasons,” Anne Marie said, hands resting on the warding box. “Something went badly wrong on Tuesday. I reviewed the spells and went back to the Skein, and I found something disturbing.”

  I bit my lip. This could get a little awkward.

  Tracy hovered at the edge of the group, almost outside my spell. “You went back? Alone?”