Black Spells & Twisted Souls (Grey Witch Book 1)

by Cece Rose

  “Demonic kitty?” she questions curiously.

  “You really don’t want to know,” I answer, taking a large gulp of my wine.

  “Your life sounds…interesting?” she says, the inflection hitting the end of her sentence like a question.

  “Yeah, it’s gotten pretty interesting recently, that’s for sure,” I answer, laughing a little. Interesting was one way to put it. Downright bat shit crazy is probably a more accurate way.

  “So, where do I come into all of this?” Christina asks me.

  “Look, I’m guessing you guys aren’t supposed to tell us these things, but my boss was murdered. The hot detective following me thinks I did it, I didn’t by the way. Now I have a demon cat living in my house, and I got fired from my job because of the investigation. I really need to find out who is responsible for ruining my damn life,” I say, the words tumbling out my mouth quickly. I’m so worried she’ll cut me off or object, so I don’t take a breath.

  “You have the worst luck.” She knocks back half of her drink in one, the strong smelling alcohol clearly not affecting her. I’m guessing it’s probably hard to be drunk when you’re dead.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I grumble.

  “So, what am I supposed to tell you?” Christina asks.

  “Jay—James Cavanaugh, was he taking out by a vengeance?” I ask, she looks at me a little blankly. “Was a vengeance contracted by a witch to take him out, and if he was, do you know who?” I ask again, chewing on my lip nervously.

  “I haven’t heard his name, I’m sorry, Kayla. But, I am new to this. He could have been taken out by another vengeance,” she explains. The sorrow in her eyes is suddenly so much clearer, a sinking feeling pools in my stomach.

  “How new?”

  “I died about three and a half weeks ago,” she answers, her voice suddenly a monotone.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. You’re pretty cool for a dead chick though, nothing like what I expected a vengeance to be. From what I heard, you guys are meant to be super obsessed with revenge and you don’t really do anything else. An efficient killing machine, I suppose.” I freeze, mortified. “Shit, was that offensive?” I ask.

  “Maybe?” She shrugs. “I’m not sure. I just don’t really feel like much of a vengeance spirit, if I’m honest.” She takes another sip of her drink, and then stares at it curiously. I wonder if there’s something wrong with it, not that I’m much of a whiskey drinker.

  “That sucks. Maybe it’s because you’re meant to be something else?” I muse, looking at her in a new light. I can’t help but have a good feeling about her. She doesn’t feel like a dark, evil vengeance spirit. If she’s a new as she says she is, maybe there’s a chance for her to be something else, if the old stories are true anyway.

  “Meant to be something else?” she echoes sceptically. “I’m dead, I’m pretty sure my options are severely limited.”

  “Don’t count yourself out yet, Christina. I can see change in your future,” I reply, throwing a cheesy wink at her.

  She smiles, and it lights up her pale face. “You can see the future?”

  “Nope, divination is a skill that skipped right over me, but I just have a feeling about you,” I answer honestly, making her laugh just a little.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m being serious!” I insist, trying to wave off her amusement at my good feeling about her.

  “Okay, whatever you say, Kayla,” she replies, rolling her eyes at me.

  I wait for a moment, before bringing us back to the serious conversation I called her here for. I feel bad for ruining the good mood, but I really need her help. “Being serious, I have to ask…is there any way you can find out that information for me?” I ask.

  “No. Christina and I will be leaving now,” a cold voice comes from behind us. I whirl around as Christina does, looking at the imposing stranger. The large broad sword strapped to his back draws my attention instantly. Holy fuck, who is this guy?

  “There you are,” Christina says casually. I look at her likes she’s crazy, as I try and edge back in my seat away from him.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he practically hisses at her, as he grabs her arm and pulls her roughly off the seat.

  Christina looks back at me. “Is this more what you were expecting?” she asks, gesturing at the man. I nod mutely. He was everything I’d expected when summoning a vengeance. I count my lucky stars that I got Christina instead of him. She turns back to him, a determined look on her face. “Nemo, was her boss killed by a vengeance spirit?”

  “We don’t give out details like that,” he replies through gritted teeth, and he glares at me. I gulp. Why is he looking at me like this is all my fault?

  “Nemo, please,” she asks again, her voice softer this time. They stare at each other in an intense silence for a few moments, a weird connection between the two of them. His eyes seem to soften somehow, less icy than they were only seconds before.

  “He wasn’t killed by a vengeance,” he answers quickly, before looking away from us both. “You have two minutes, Christina, and then we are leaving,” he adds over his shoulder, as he saunters deeper into the bar, blending in seamlessly.

  “Holy sweet goddess,” I breathe. My heart racing faster than I could possibly imagine.

  “That was Nemo,” she mutters, before picking up her drink and downing the rest of it. Nemo? Why does that ring a bell? My eyes widen as it hits me.

  “Nemesio?” I ask, wanting to check before I freak her out.

  “Yeah, I guess it could be short for that.” She shrugs unhelpfully.

  “Damn, he’s pretty legendary. ‘Never do harm to others, or they’ll set Nemesio on you.’ He’s like a scary bedtime story that parents tell their children to get them to behave and be nice kids,” I explain, as I look around at him curiously. He’s less terrifying from a distance.

  “Damn,” she says softly.

  “The stories say he’s the head of the vengeance spirits on this level. His power is equal to the Leader of Justice, maybe even greater,” I explain, watching her reaction closely.

  “The Leader of Justice?” she snorts. “That sounds like a ridiculous title. For a religious nut or the leader of a weird charity.”

  “You really are new, aren’t you?” I wonder if she knows what a justice is. “Zedekiah, he’s meant to be a total badass, determined to bring justice to the people. Nobody ever sees a justice anymore, though, you can’t summon them.” I take a sip of my drink.

  “I met Zed two weeks ago,” she says, and I almost spit out my drink. I manage to choke it down, just. Christina leans over, patting my back as I choke.

  “Holy shit,” I finally say, straightening back up.

  “He was peculiar.” She looks at me intensely. I look away, glancing nervously at Nemesio, wondering if he’d try and stop me from telling her certain things.

  “I bet. Damn, everything I have ever read about you guys says that you’d never get a vengeance and justice in the same room,” I say, deciding to stay on the safe side.

  “Are they dead too?” she asks me curiously.

  “Yup, they don’t usually have such tragic deaths though…shit, that was insensitive again, wasn’t it?” I cringe internally. Why do I have such foot in mouth disease?

  “It’s fine. I’m just enjoying speaking to someone other than Mr Smiles over there,” she says sarcastically, tilting her head towards nemo across the room. I laugh.

  “I owe you for this, thank you. I may not know who did it yet, but at least I can cross this off my list,” I say seriously. I really do owe her. Grandma taught me the honour in repaying your debt to people, so I know what I have to do. I pull out my notepad and pen, and scribble down my name and phone number, before folding it. “I give you my oath that if you call in need, I will answer you,” I pledge, as I hold out the paper to her. She takes it hesitantly, and I feel the spark of magic that crosses with my oath. She quickly pockets the folded paper.

  “What was th
at?” she asks, rubbing her hand.

  “Just my witch’s oath. It means I owe you one.” I smile at her warmly, trying to reassure her this is a good thing.

  “Thank you,” she replies, sounding a little shocked for some reason.

  “Looks like your Mr Smiles is ready to go,” I say softly, noticing he’s heading back over.

  “Bye, Kayla. It was nice meeting you,” she says, her voice is genuine, but a little sad as she stands.

  “Don’t be sad, Christina. I know we will see each other again,” I say confidently. The words feel true to me as I speak them. She flashes me a grateful smile, as Nemesio lays a hand on her shoulder, and they both vanish before my eyes.

  I stare at the empty space for a few moments, a little in shock at my experience. Did that really just happen? I pull out my phone, glancing at the time. Fuck! I need to be back at the portal in two minutes. I jump up, making sure I have everything in my bag before all but sprinting up the stairs. As I dart through the people and head for the doors, I get a few weird looks from people that honestly look a lot stranger than I do.

  I slow down as I walk past the trolls, not wanting to give them an excuse to stop me for anything, but they barely pay me any attention as I leave. I walk back to the exact spot I came in, the portal flaring to life just as I reach it.

  Perfect timing—Maybe my bad luck is finally ending?

  Sixteen

  Don’t Answer That

  Ignoring the panicked questions from Lizzy, I head out of the bathroom. I need to think of an explanation to give her that doesn’t sound insane, and to do that, I need some coffee and five minutes to think.

  “Where have you just been?” The detective demands as soon as he spots me walking out.

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business, but I wasn’t feeling great. Maybe it has something to do with being accused of stuff I haven’t done, and losing my job because of it,” I retort.

  “Well, I’m making it my business. You’re coming with me to answer some questions. I don’t believe you were just in there for an hour being sick.” I go to disagree when he adds, “Mainly because I went in and checked.” I swallow nervously, but try and power through my nerves. It’s not like going to The Rift is illegal. It’s just really, really frowned upon. Like lots of the things I’ve been doing lately.

  “Like hell I am,” I snap, walking towards the door to leave. He grabs my wrist, pulling me back roughly.

  “You can either come willingly, or kicking and screaming while cuffed with spelled iron that will completely mute your powers. I can deal with either, but which would you prefer?” he asks quietly, raising a dark blond eyebrow at me as he releases his grip. I look at Lizzy worriedly, and she returns the look, horror flashing in her eyes.

  “It’s probably best to go in willingly, I’ll call my family’s lawyer,” she offers. I flinch. I don’t want to think how much her family’s lawyer costs. The Everleigh family is one of the oldest and wealthiest witch families in our community.

  “It’s okay, I have someone I can call,” I lie. I couldn’t afford her lawyer, and I damn well wasn’t about to let her pay for it. I notice the humans around are watching us closely, and I’m feeling nervous about the attention we’ve drawn.

  “So long as you’re sure,” she replies, looking uncomfortable at me rejecting her help. I force a smile, trying to make her feel better. Detective Huxley stands with his arms crossed, looking furious as he waits for my answer.

  “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. I’ll call you as soon as this is all wrapped up.” I lean forward and hug my friend, wishing there was more I could do to make her feel better.

  “Want me to try and jump us out of here? I normally only use standing portals, but I can try,” she whispers quietly.

  “Running will only make me look guilty,” I whisper back. I shake my head sadly as I pull away, and she looks guilty at not being able to help me more. “It’ll be fine,” I reaffirm again to her, before turning to face Detective Huxley. “So, where are you parked?” I ask, mock-cheerfully.

  “This way.” He begins walking, just expecting that I’ll follow, and for whatever reason, trusting that I won’t run in the other direction.

  I catch up with him, walking beside him through the busy street. “Can I use my phone?”

  “Why? We both know that you don’t have a lawyer to call.” He gives me a dubious look.

  I swallow my biting retort, and take a deep, calming breath. “No, but I know somebody who does. One that won’t cost me the price of a house in Chelsea to pay for.”

  He looks a little sceptic, but nods, continuing towards a car park across the street. Who even drives their car this deep into the city? It’s so much quicker to use the tube, or uber, or even just walk everywhere. I pull out my phone, tapping on a contact I seldom call anymore. He answers after just two rings.

  “Hey, it’s me. I need your help again.”

  “Where are you?” Darren asks simply, not probing me for a million answers.

  “With the detective…it looks like he wants to ask me some questions. Formally, this time,” I say quietly, not that it makes a difference with how close I’m standing to him.

  “I’m on my way,” he replies quickly. “He’s taking you down to the alternative questioning and holding facility based in London, right?” The way he asks it makes me wonder if there are human ears close by.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask the detective.

  “Where else would I take you, Miss Harlow,” he answers sarcastically.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s there. It’s the closest. The next nearest one is in freaking Southampton nearly two hours away, otherwise,” I reply.

  “That doesn’t sound much like you calling for a lawyer.” The detective stops, looking at me sternly.

  “Well, are you arresting me? Or just asking me to willing come down and answer a couple questions?” I ask, crossing my arms. I can very faintly hear Darren’s shouted complaints from where my phone rests in my hand.

  “Just a few questions, for now,” he answers curtly, beginning to walk again.

  I sigh deeply, pulling the phone back to my ear. “I’ve got to go. Bring your lawyer with you please,” I say. I then quickly hanging up before Darren can reply. He’d only get more rage-filled the more he heard of my conversation with the detective.

  “Hurry up,” the detective calls back to me. I roll my eyes and continue walking.

  I have a feeling this is going to be a really long fucking day.

  Seventeen

  A Darke Prince

  “Where were you for that hour you vanished from the coffee shop?” he asks. I look at the detective blankly from across the metal table. “Answer me,” he demands again.

  “I’d rather not say anything until my lawyer gets here,” I reply. I lean back in my chair, trying to relax a little.

  “If you have nothing to hide, then why not just tell me?” he asks.

  “Because I’m not an idiot. I know how easily words can be twisted,” I answer honestly.

  “So there’s something to twist?”

  “I think you just confirmed my point,” I mutter.

  The sound of a knock on the door has us both turning our heads towards it as if we’re somehow synchronised.

  “Come in,” Detective Huxley calls. The door slowly creeps open, and I feel my stomach twist as I see who stands there.

  “You’re the lawyer?” I ask incredulously.

  “I’m lots of things, sweetheart.” Rhydian smiles.

  “Is there anything you don’t do?” I question sarcastically, as he strolls into the room, looking as calm as can be.

  “I’m equal opportunities,” he answers, his tone a little flirtatious, as per usual. “But I’m not a lawyer,” he admits. He turns to look at the detective, as if only just noticing his presence. I clock onto the intense glare Detective Huxley is giving Rhydian.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Rhydian?” the de
tective demands.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Rhydian asks, pointing at me. “I’m here to clear up your confusion about my employee there.”

  “Your employee?” I echo incredulously. What was Darren thinking, sending Rhydian in here instead of his damn pack lawyer? I need legal assistance, not for Rhydian to come in here and make everything ten times worse.

  “Yes, you’re working as my personal aide, are you not?” he asks me, raising an eyebrow at me and giving me a look as if to say, ‘play along.’ Personal aide?

  “You can’t do this, she’s not even fae!” the detective growls, slamming his fist onto the table.

  “Oh, but I can. I’m an equal opportunities employer. And I’m sure as you know, her working directly for the Royal House of Darke would grant her immunity from having to comply with any of your investigations? Unless you’re looking for an interspecies war, I think that you’d be wise to remember and honour that beautifully fragile agreement we have in place.”

  “I do know that,” he admits through gritted teeth. “But I have doubts that she could be so conveniently employed by you.”

  “Well, she is. You can call the embassy and check,” he says confidently. “Come on, Kayla. We best be going now,” Rhydian adds cheerfully to me. I look at him in disbelief. He had to be fucking kidding me. “Don’t just sit there gaping at me, we have so much to do today, remember,” he says, his eyes looking at me very intensely. I nod, letting him know I got the message. He gestures for me to leave first. I stand up unsurely, slowly making my way to the door, expecting the detective to call me back any second to tell me this has all been a joke.

  Rhydian places his hand at the small of my back, leading me confidently through the corridors and back out into the reception area. Darren is pacing back and forth across the room, freezing when he sees us coming out from the secured area.