Black Spells & Twisted Souls (Grey Witch Book 1)

by Cece Rose

  “Wait, is the guy in there?” she asks, quickly darting in the direction of the room.

  “No, wait! Lizzy, don’t open the door!” I shout, but it’s too late. She tugs it open and I feel my stomach drop. This isn’t good.

  “Well, there’s no hot guy in here,” she announces, pausing. “But… Kayla, why is there a little black cat in your bathtub?” she asks curiously.

  “It showed up at the door asking for food. I mistakenly fed it, and now it won’t leave,” I lie, repeating the detective’s story as my own.

  “But why is it in the bathtub?” she questions, and I rack my brain for an excuse.

  “It doesn’t like people!” I answer quickly, trying to usher her away. “He’s practically feral,” I lie. Lizzy gives me an incredulous look, slipping past me and walking in. She reaches down and picks up the demon cat. It stirs in her arms. I stare at my best friend holding the demon in her arms, completely unaware of the danger she’s in.

  “Hey there, kitty. What’s your name?” she coos, scratching behind its ear. I bite my tongue, trying not to scream as I wait for the demon cat to go fully psychotic on her. I’m made to feel a fool, however, as the damned tricky bastard licks her cheek once before proceeding to purr as she continues to give it attention. She snorts. “Yeah, really feral, Kayla.”

  “Its name is Damon,” I mutter.

  “So, he just showed up last night, did he?” she asks, putting the cat down. He wraps himself around her legs, snuggling up. I glare down at him accusingly.

  “Yeah. Really weird. He doesn’t have a collar, and I did a spell to try and locate an owner, but there isn’t one. So, I guess I’m stuck with him for now,” I answer.

  “Do you think he could be your familiar?” she questions, giving me a knowing look. I’ve never had one. Most witches find their familiar in their teens, and here I am in my twenties and still no damned furry companion.

  “No, I really don’t think it’s—”

  “I can check,” she says, cutting me off, and I try not to panic.

  “Honestly, I don’t really think it’s necessary. I’m sure I’d know my familiar when I saw it. When you got Alfie you knew instantly, right?” I ask, trying to side track her with the mention of her parrot. Alfie is a pretty African Grey, and he’d appeared in her room when she was just eleven. A familiar lives for as long as its witch does, so Alfie has barely aged a day since she got him. Not that I know much about the natural lifespans of the creatures. I’ve never been an animal person.

  “Well, honestly, I think you’re just being stubborn.” She holds up her hands, one at me and the other at the demon cat. My eyes widen in panic as her eyes glow when she looks between us. Her eyes fade back to normal and she gives me a smug look.

  “What did you see?” I ask, impressed I get the question out over the lump forming in my throat.

  “I was right, obviously. The connection between the two of you is intense! How you could miss it is beyond me,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders. Wait, a demon can’t be a familiar, right? “Are you okay?” she asks, clearly seeing how concerned and lost in thought I am.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Look, I hate to be rude, Lizzy. But I have plans this morning, and I need to get ready and get going,” I say in a polite but firm voice. She frowns.

  “Fine, I’m going. But you, missy, owe me an explanation!” She wriggles her finger in my face. Uh-oh, I’m in trouble.

  “For what?” I ask, trying not to choke.

  “For whoever bought you that monster! Did he get the lingerie for you, too?” she interrogates, waggling her eyebrows. I flush, feeling the heat creeping into my face. “Oh. My. Goddess. He did, didn’t he?” she exclaims.

  “Not now,” I groan. I don’t have time to explain the sexy fae with no sense of modesty or boundaries. I’m also not quite ready to relive my humiliation.

  “Fine,” she replies, huffing and dragging the word out. “But I want details. All of them. Over wine. Does eight o’clock work?” she asks in a cheery voice.

  “Sounds great,” I reply through gritted teeth, hoping she doesn’t notice just how tense I am right now.

  “See you later then!” She gives me a quick hug, before practically whirling out of the door. I look down at the demon kitty.

  “You’re not my familiar, right?” I ask, and it huffs, lifting its tail and swaggering off to cause chaos in my house again. Great.

  “I guess you don’t want to come with me to visit a friend of my grandma’s then?” I call, and he freezes in the doorway to the dining room. “She knows just as much, maybe more, about magic than Grandma did. She’s also covenless...” I trail off, grimacing at the word. “So, we can trust she won’t tell the light or the dark about you,” I finish. It curls up in the corner of the room, watching me out of the corner of its eyes, while impatiently flicking its tail. “Just let me get dressed, and then we’ll visit the old crone, okay?” I bargain, and I swear I see him roll his eyes. I’m being sassed by a demon in a cat’s body. I glance at the clock. It’s not even eight a.m. yet. I head for the stairs to go and get dressed.

  How much trouble could I get myself into before eight o’clock tonight?

  Nine

  Lavender & Lies

  Note to self: Don't take a cat on the underground, you will look like a crazy cat lady. Especially if you keep whispering to it like it's a person. Or in my case, a demon stuck in a cat's body that keeps trying to slip free from your grip. Unfortunately for me, this is my reality now.

  “Would you stop wriggling?” I whisper to the damned demon, pleading for the millionth time for it to behave. He hisses, wriggling even more. Why didn't I own a cat carrier or something?

  “You can try and slip out of my grip all you like, but I'm not letting you loose on a train filled with humans. Not happening,” I mutter in his ears. He huffs unhappily, before finally seeming to settle in my lap. I try not to take notice of all the eyes watching me, but I feel totally self-conscious.

  When the speaker announces my stop, I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally. I sift through the masses of people, racing up the stairs. Miraculously, I manage to get off the tube with the demon kitty unscathed and without it escaping.

  “It’s not like you can go far from me anyway. Wasn’t that what you told me?” I hiss at the demon furball in my arms. It wriggles even harder, attempting to escape. “I can’t let you just walk around freely. Cats don’t get taken for walks. We’re five minutes away, then I can put you down. Could you please just behave for that long?” I ask in an exasperated voice. The demon finally seems to listen, relaxing in my arms.

  The morning rush means the streets are overcrowded as hell; I pray they’re quieter by the time I leave. Making sure to avoid knocking into anyone, I move as quickly as I can through the streets. It’s freezing today, and I wish I’d worn a thick coat instead of my leather jacket. I spot Silvia’s house and quicken my pace, eager to get out of the cold.

  When I reach the house, I lean down and put the damned demon cat on the floor. “Don't even think about going anywhere,” I warn it. It huffs at me, sitting down as I unlock the outer iron gate. I step through, holding the gate open for my furry, demonic friend.

  I trip on the stairs leading up to her front door, barely throwing my arms out in time to stop myself from having my face smash into the top step. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I stand back up and can only hope that nobody other than the demon witnessed my clumsiness. I continue up the stone steps to the house, a bit slower this time. Silvia’s house, much like Grandma's, has been in her family since the place was built. The old Victorian townhouse is beautiful inside and out. I go to knock on the door, when it swings open.

  “Kayla, get yourself inside from the cold!” she scolds me, as if I've been standing out there freezing by choice rather than necessity.

  “Nice to see you too, Aunt Silvia,” I reply, leaning in to give the woman a hug. She's in no way related to me, but she had insisted on the title of auntie when I was a kid
and it had stuck. I haven’t come down to see her since just after Grandma passed, and it almost feels like I’m hugging Grandma when I breathe in the lavender scent that they both love. Or loved, in my Grandma's case.

  “How have you been? What am I even thinking? If you're here, something must be wrong. What can I do for you, dear?” she asks me, ushering me into the living room. I collapse down into one of her recliner chairs as she does likewise in the other. She pulls on her glasses from where they rest on a beaded chain around her neck.

  “It's a little complicated, Aunt Silvia. I've gotten myself into a bit of a crazy mess, and I don't know how to get myself out of it,” I say, and as if on cue, my demonic friend hops up onto the arm of my chair. Silvia looks between us, curiously at first, but dread pools in my stomach as I watch her stare turn from inquisitive to one of disgust

  “Kayla! What have you done? Why would you bring such a creature into my home?” she asks me, guilt lashing at me with her every word.

  “You know what he is just by looking at him?” I screech, alarm slamming into me as I realise how bad this could be. Who else has seen me with the cat?

  “Don't you panic yourself, girl. I can only tell as I recognise this creature's personal magical residue,” she says soothingly, like she is trying to calm my frayed nerves. Turning to the demon, her voice comes out colder when she says, “It's been a long time, Solas. You are not welcome in this home, and you know it.”

  “Wait, you know the demon?” I ask, completely baffled by the idea of her summoning a demon at all, much less knowing one by name and magical residue. Had they summoned demons together? My whole image of my Grandma and her closest friend seems to change in an instant. They weren't the lily-white witches they'd claimed to be, but I suppose my life is looking a little grey right now, too.

  “I do. What I do not understand is why you, of all people, would call on it, Kayla darling. You know summoning demons is a dangerous thing to dabble in,” she chides, looking utterly disappointed in me.

  I look down, not able to meet her eyes. “I was just so fed up. Plus, I'd had a few drinks when I came across the ritual in Grandma's grimoire. I know it's not an excuse, but I felt stuck. I didn't know how else to solve my problem.” She takes my hand in hers, and I glance back up to her soft brown eyes that are staring at me as if I've broken her heart.

  “So you called on the demon to fix a problem. How did he end up as a cat, and how the hell did he end up linked to you?” she asks. I chew my lip, knowing she'll be mad at the next part.

  “Well, when the demon couldn't fix the problem as he'd promised, he ended up stuck at my place until he’s be able to do something else for me. I tried to get him to do something simple just to get rid of him, but he wouldn't. He said it had to be something we both deemed of equal or greater value to the original favour.”

  “Why could the demon not just...” she trails off, her eyes seeming to hone in on my neck. “Do not tell me you gave the demon your necklace. Please, Kayla,” she demands to know.

  “Well... I can't tell you that without lying,” I respond hesitantly, and she pulls back, putting her head in her hands. “It was just a necklace. Plus, the demon made it anyway; it's no big deal.”

  “It is a very big deal. Have you noticed anything strange since you've taken it off?” she asks.

  “No, not really?” I say, shrugging.

  “Any bad luck recently? Dropping things, falling over, spells going wrong, even just missing the train or having people walk right into you?” she questions.

  My jaw drops. “Are you saying my necklace warded off bad luck?”

  “That is exactly what it did. That necklace is a powerful luck amulet. It takes the wearer's power and channels it into good luck,” she explains.

  “But why would I need a good luck amulet so badly? Can't I just get by with the same luck as everyone else?” I ask, a little confused by her intensity.

  Silvia shakes her head sadly. “I hate that I am the one that has to tell you this, but you're cursed, Kayla.”

  “Cursed?” I echo, my eyebrows raising.

  “Cursed,” she affirms. “Your entire family on your father's side are cursed with bad luck. Your grandma was so desperate to escape hers, she made a deal with a demon for a device that would protect her from it. The cost to procure it was great, and whomever wears the charm must bear the burden of yet another cost. Your magic is dampened greatly by the amulet, as it constantly feeds from it. Without the amulet, your powers are much stronger, but very dangerous. So many things could go wrong with bad luck and huge amounts of power.”

  “Aunt Silvia, I've never had great amounts of power, and I doubt I ever will. At least we won’t have to worry about any huge mistakes from my bad luck.” I snort at the incredulousness of the idea. I'd always been the weakest witch among my peers. Lizzy is the only witch that had ever wanted to hang around with someone as magically inept as me.

  A look of guilt flashes across her face, and I can see the discomfort in her tense frame at the direction of the conversation. “We—your grandmother and I—put a spell on you as an infant to dampen your powers. Even as a child without your full ability, it was too dangerous. We only wanted to protect you, to avoid you accidentally hurting yourself with your growing magic. We lifted that same spell when the necklace was passed on to you on your thirteenth birthday, when your full powers came in, as we knew that the necklace would need to draw on that power of yours.”

  I find myself torn over how to feel about this and have to stay silent for a moment, trying to process what she’s revealed. “Why did you never tell me?” I ask finally.

  “We didn't want to scare you,” she admits.

  “But what if I'd taken the necklace off? Lost or sold it?” There are numerous possibilities where their plan could have gone wrong, especially considering I’d lost the necklace for good because I was ignorant to its importance.

  “Impossible. You felt resistance to taking the necklace off, I assume?” she asks me. I think about it, remembering my weird feeling over taking it off. I think about the fact that I'd never taken it off before. Not to sleep, not even to shower.

  The demon—Solas—hisses loudly, clearly furious at the fact my visit here seems to have diverted attention onto me and my issues, instead of figuring out how to fix him.

  “Shut it, furball,” I mutter, shoving the demon onto the floor when it tries swatting me with its paw. I catch Silvia’s look of horror. “What? What’s it going to do, scratch up my carpet?” I ask her. Since the demon had been stuck in a cat’s body, my fear of the thing had progressively diminished. I’d figured out quickly that it couldn’t hurt me, seeing as it hasn’t even tried to scratch or bite me.

  “You know once he’s freed he’ll most likely be very unhappy with you.” She looks between me and the demon, who is giving me a look of disdain from where he now sits on the floor.

  “Could I leave him like he is, then?” I ponder, which earns me vehement hisses from the demon.

  “It wouldn’t be recommended,” she answers seriously. “Why is Solas appearing in cat form? This isn’t one of his preferred forms. If I remember correctly, he favours that of an owl, a raven, or a man.”

  “Why do you keep calling it a he? I didn’t think demons had genders, since they can appear as anything?” I ask her curiously.

  “You have much to learn about demonology, Kayla. Solas is definitely a male demon,” she corrects me. I hope the demon didn’t take too much offence to my referring to him as an it so much.

  “Sorry, demonology wasn’t exactly offered as an elective in school,” I say, trying to make light of things. Aunt Silvia smiles thinly. Her aged, lined face is strained, though, the situation really stressing her out. “I’m sorry for bringing this to your door. I just didn’t know where else to go,” I offer.

  “It’s okay, child. I’m glad you felt you could trust me. I’m sorry if you have found that in coming to me, you now feel your belief in me was misplaced. I apologis
e for hiding all that I have from you, but I promised your grandmother I would help protect you at any cost.”

  “You have nothing to apologise for. I understand.” I smile at her, happy to see a little more life shining in her brown eyes now that I’ve absolved her of any guilt over hiding things from me. I decide to move on quickly, not wanting to dwell on her culpability or the things that have been kept from me. “Well, to answer your question, he’s a cat because I turned him into one, and now I can’t seem to figure out how to turn him back.”

  “You’ve tried the reversal spell, I assume?” she asks.

  “Yes. Several times, but nothing happens,” I tell her.

  She squints at me. “You know, your connection appears to be reminiscent of a familiar bond. It’s possible, and this is a just a theory, dear, that he may be stuck in this form until he is able to fulfil his side of your bargain. Or perhaps to make up for failing to fulfil the bargain, as the case may be,” she muses.

  “How is he supposed to do that when we can’t even communicate properly?” I ask, looking down at the demon. He huffs in agreement. At least I hope it’s agreement.

  “Have you tried using your magic to understand him?” she asks, and I flush. Goddess. I really am a terrible witch. I’d never even thought of trying to use a spell to understand him.

  “I honestly didn’t think of it,” I admit. I chew my lip, trying to think of a spell that would work for this, but my mind is coming up blank.

  “Let me,” she offers gently, pulling back my attention.

  “Probably for the best, all things considered… I’d probably end up making it so he spoke only in Latin for the rest of his life, or something equally ridiculous.”

  “I’m not sure if this will work, as I’m going to have to adapt the spell a little.” She shrugs dramatically. “Oh well, I’ve always said it’s more about the intention than the incantation anyway!” She holds out her hands, one directed down at the demon and the other at me. “Ne deducere verba haec inter duas intellectus.”