Black Spells & Twisted Souls (Grey Witch Book 1)

by Cece Rose

  “What was that about?” I ask as we near him.

  He shakes his head. “Not here,” he whispers quietly. He reaches out and pulls me into a hug. Surprising me with the action once again. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but really fucking confused,” I admit as I pull away. Rhydian rests hands on both of our shoulders, and I try to shrug him off, but he grips on tightly. “What are you doing?”

  “Just hold on,” he mutters, rolling his green eyes at me. I feel a strange, unfamiliar feeling roll over me. Darren’s hand grabs mine tightly, linking the three of us into a circle.

  “Fuck, I hate it when he does this,” he grunts.

  “Does what?” I ask, closing my eyes as wave of discomfort hits me this time, churning my stomach. I make the mistake of opening my eyes again, seeing Darren is now blue and translucent. “Oh fuck, I’m going to be sick,” I mumble.

  Rhydian chuckles, and then phases us all fully through to wherever it is he’s taking us. I close my eyes as I feel the world moving around me, as we move without moving from one place, to another. Phasing was gift given only to the fae. The rest of us had to portal ourselves around this world and between them, but fae could simply phase themselves wherever they wanted to be. It’s not even a gift they have to work hard on, it’s something they’re all innately born with.

  Some gifted witches eventually found a way to use the portal technique to mimic the phasing system, much like how demons do, but only the best could pull it off. It required making yourself the portal, rather than opening one up and stepping through it. It’s what Lizzy had offered to try her in attempt to get me away from Detective Huxley, but it was risky, and I wouldn’t put that pressure on her, no matter how gifted she is.

  As I feel us become whole again, I open my eyes, watching the blue fade from my skin. I look at Darren who also looks a little queasy, and at Rhydian who looks perfectly fine. We’re standing in the living room of a luxury apartment. I pace around, trying to walk off the nausea as I take the place in. Modern and sleek, I doubt any corners had been cut, or expense spared in making this place perfect by the looks of it. Not that Rhydian had to worry about the cost of things, apparently.

  “You’re Rhydian Darke?” I ask him, wanting confirmation before I lose my shit. Rhydian was an old and popular name among his kind after all, and maybe I had misunderstood something about what had just happened. He nods his head. “You didn’t think to mention that at all?” I snap.

  “When was I supposed to tell you that? It’s not as if we know each other very well. This is the second time I’ve met you,” he replies calmly. Fourth time. I correct in my head.

  “What about you? Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask Darren. How could he not tell me he was friends with this guy?

  “He didn’t tell me for about six months.” Darren shrugs, as if it doesn’t matter at all. “And anyway, what was I meant to tell you? ‘Oh, by the way, one of my friends is a prince?’ How do you drop that into a conversation and not sound like an asshole?” he asks me. I gape at the two of them.

  “I can’t believe this. What the freaking hell!” I all but screech. I look into Rhydian’s eyes, I have some questions for him, ones that I’m guessing he doesn’t want me to ask in front of Darren. Firstly, what the fuck was a fae price, heir to their damn fucking throne no less, doing in a place like The Rift? He looked like he was very damn well at home there, too.

  “We can talk about this later, if you really wish, but for now let’s focus on you. I’ve made sure the embassy will waste his time if he calls, and drag it out for weeks if possible before letting him get hands on information that would confirm that you don’t actually work for me. That should buy you some time,” he explains.

  “Buy me some time to do what?” I ask, not seeing where he’s going with this.

  “To decide what you’re doing and do it, Kayla,” Darren interrupts. “If they’re determined to pin this on you, maybe you should get away from here. Hide out for a while.”

  “You want me to run away, like I’m actually guilty?” I question, not believing he’s really saying this. Does he think I did this? Well, I did show up with a demon at his doorstep.

  “It doesn’t matter if you’re guilty or not if they want you to be. I can’t let them throw you into The Tomb, Kayla. There are options, ways to make you disappear. We can give you a new identity, a new life. We could have you through a portal to somewhere across the globe by tomorrow if you need it,” Darren offers, the concern is painted all across his face.

  “I’m not running away,” I say firmly.

  “Then what are you going to do? They’re not even looking at anyone else, sweetheart. They’re looking right at you. They will pin you for this, even if you are innocent,” Rhydian says seriously.

  I swallow, trying to think for a minute. I have to keep trying to find the real killer, exposing them would put me in the clear, and I wouldn’t have to go anywhere. I can’t let myself get thrown out of my own life, not over this. Now more than ever, I regret giving that damned demon my necklace. This bad luck curse is only getting worse and worse.

  “Kayla?” Darren prods lightly.

  “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

  “Maybe you should be thinking about dream destinations. How about the Caribbean, have you been? It’s quite lovely this time of year,” Rhydian drawls, snagging my attention again.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I say again.

  “What are you going to do then?” he asks, looking at me like I’m an idiot or something to not take this offer of escape.

  “I’m going to find the real killer and clear my own name,” I answer. The demon was right, if I find the real killer, the detective’s attention leaves me. I’m proved innocent, by finding the person who is truly guilty.

  “You’ve got to be joking,” Rhydian scoffs.

  “I’m being serious,” I insist, glaring at him quickly before looking to Darren for backup.

  Darren shakes his head at me. “I’m sorry, Kay. I can’t pretend I think this is a good idea. If they can’t figure out who did it, then why do you think you’ll be able to?”

  “I’ve got to at least try. You can either help me, or I’ll do it alone, but either way, I’m going to do this,” I answer, not backing down. I’m not running away from my problems. I’m a witch, damn it. I can do this.

  They exchange a look with each other before Darren looks back down at me. “Of course we’ll help you.”

  “Okay…Well, this is where things get bad, so last chance to back out of helping me,” I offer lamely.

  “What do you mean?” Rhydian asks, a light dancing in his green eyes.

  “I want to break into Jay’s old apartment. There might be some clues there, something Detective Huxley and his team missed.” I watch their faces for reactions, not that they have one. “You have nothing to say about this? You know breaking into his place is illegal, right?”

  “And you think helping you escape the country and giving you a brand new identity isn’t?” Rhydian questions me sarcastically.

  “I guess you have a point there, kind of,” I admit begrudgingly.

  “We’ve got your back, Kayla. Whatever it takes.” Darren says firmly, looking at Rhydian as if to see if he has any objections to that.

  He shrugs. “A little B&E on a Friday night, what could be more fun? Can you think of anything better, Darren?”

  “You know where he lives?” Darren asks me seriously, ignoring Rhydian’s playful comment.

  “I have a rough idea, and it should be easy enough for you to tell from there,” I say, knowing that if I can direct us to the building, Darren would be able to sniff out the apartment itself.

  “Wonderful, just let me get my cat burglar outfit on,” Rhydian calls, as he starts striding out of the room.

  “He’s kidding, right?” I ask Darren. He only shrugs in answer, seeming as clueless as I am to his friend’s words.

  Eighteen

  Playing Investigato
r

  After getting Rhydian to phase us in around the corner from the high-rise building, we quickly make our way around to the front. Rhydian walks straight towards the front door of the apartment block, whilst Darren and I hold back, staring at him.

  “Are you coming or not?” he calls over his shoulder. We rush to catch up with him, not wanting him to head in alone, as he so clearly intends to do if we keep standing there.

  “Are you sure going in the front door is a good idea?” I ask sceptically.

  “It’s not like they’ll remember us anyway,” Rhydian answers, brushing off my concerns. I feel as if nothing worries him, other than telling Darren about our two meetings which he doesn’t know about, that is.

  “You’re not serious,” I breathe.

  “About what?” he asks, turning to look at me as he walks backwards still heading for the front door.

  “Memory wipes are illegal!” I snap, how he couldn’t see the problem in that is worrying.

  “None of this is legal,” Darren points out unhelpfully.

  “Well, memory wiping is also unethical,” I mutter. Wiping memories is a very complex type of magic, and prone to going wrong easily. One slip and you could erase that person’s whole life, rather than the last five minutes as you’d intended. Any kind of magic that messes with the brain can be tricky, but the more invasive types such as memory wipes are the worst of all.

  “Don’t get your knickers all twisted, I know what I’m doing,” he mutters back as we reach the door. He holds it open for me so I can pass him and enter first. The security guy sitting behind the desk barely even looks up at us as we pass him and head over to the lifts.

  Rhydian places his hand over the security key card scanner for the lifts. He concentrates for a moment, before pulling his hand away. The scanner flashes green, and he hits the button to call it. It opens instantly. Luckily, it must have been on the ground floor already. Maybe Rhydian’s good luck could help counter my bad luck?

  We shuffle into the lift, and I look over to Darren hopefully, “Any idea what floor he used to live on from down here?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I’ll have to walk through each corridor. I’ll know for sure when I pass the door,” he answers.

  “Should we start at the top or bottom?” I ask. Rhydian smirks, and I glare at him. “What are you, thirteen?” I snap. He holds his hands up in a surrender gesture. I roll my eyes, turning away. I hit the button for the floor next to the top. Seeing as the top floor is just two huge apartments, I highly doubt he lived in one of those. They’d be way too expensive for someone on his salary. I can’t believe he had afforded any of these, in all honesty. They clearly paid the team managers better than I thought they did.

  “Interesting choice,” Rhydian says softly. Somehow it doesn’t sound like it’s coming from out loud though. I look around at Rhydian. He smiles, and I hate how attractive he looks when he does that. “It’s okay, he can’t hear me,” he adds, his lips not moving an inch, confirming my theory. He’s speaking inside my damn head. Asshole. I glare at him, and then turn away again, determined to ignore him.

  “Don’t you want to see what else I can do?” his voice asks in my head again. I probably shouldn’t, but curiosity has always been my weakness. I subtly nod my head, hoping he’ll catch it in the reflection. Images flash in my head. Thoughts that are definitely not my own. Rhydian pinning me up against the mirrored side of the lift. His lips trailing slowly over my neck. His hands snaking around my waist. The images suddenly stop, just a tiny tease of what he could show me. “Do you want to see more?” his voice whispers seductively in my head. Do I?

  “Are you okay, Kayla?” Darren asks me quietly, pulling me from my thoughts. I swallow, trying to forget the images Rhydian had just showed me. Also, trying and failing to forget the fact that I liked them. Not that I ever intend to tell him that.

  “I’m fine,” I lie.

  “Are you sure? Your heart rate just shot up,” Darren asks me, sounding concerned. I hear Rhydian choke on a laugh behind me. Asshole.

  Total. Freaking. Asshole.

  “I’m sure.”

  The lift dings, and the doors open revealing a cream-coloured wall and a dark-brown carpet. I dart out of the lift first, hoping that some air will clear the images from my head. They both follow me out of the lift.

  “Left or right first?” Rhydian asks. Again, I have to concentrate hard in order to try and dispel the heated images from my head. I never knew that fae possessed this interesting ability, and I vowed to look into it later.

  Darren looks at me, as if waiting for me to pick which way we check first. Well, I guess this is my show. “Left,” I answer, shrugging to show it doesn’t really matter to me which way we go first. Darren sets off, and we trail behind him as he quickly walks past each door closely. I’m kind of a little disappointed that he doesn’t noticeably sniff them. It would have been interesting to watch.

  We reach the end of the corridor without him once stopping, and head back down quickly so he can check the right side of the floor. This time Rhydian and I wait by the lift, figuring that Darren could just yell to us when he finds it. It’s not like we’re much help to him in sniffing it out. He returns back, shaking his head.

  “Let’s head down a floor, then,” I suggest, hitting the button for the lift as I speak. It opens again instantly, having not moved in the last few minutes. We repeat the process down four floors. Waiting for Darren to walk all the way along the corridor both ways, before dropping down to the next level.

  When the lift opens next time, Darren looks at us both as he breathes in deeply. “I think I’ve got something.” He steps out of the lift and heads right first this time, leading us down to the door at the very end. He goes to put his hand on it, but Rhydian grabs it, pulling him back. Darren looks at him bewilderedly. “What?”

  “Kayla, sweetheart, look at the door with your second sight a for a minute?” Rhydian asks. He’s still holding Darren away from the door, as if he’s afraid he’ll try and touch it again if he lets go.

  I stare at the door, calling up my second sight. Magic pulses through the door, a complex locking spell in place, set to go off and alert someone should it be broken, by the looks of it. “Smart,” I mumble, shifting my sight back. I look at Darren. “It’s locked with magic. If we try and break the lock, it’ll alert the witch who cast the spell. And I don’t really want to run into him again today.” I shift my focus to Rhydian. “We’re going to have to phase through the wall, right?” I ask, already dreading the experience.

  Rhydian nods. “It’s probably rigged to be alert to portalling in too, but they wouldn’t expect a fae to drop by if they suspect the murderer was a witch. So, luckily for us, I highly doubt they’ve spelled against phasing in.”

  “That is lucky,” I reply. I silently pray to the goddess that my bad luck doesn’t fuck this up for us all somehow. Knowing my luck, though, I don’t hold out much hope.

  Rhydian slides his hands on our shoulders, and I can’t stop the shiver that runs down my spine as he touches me. Darren closes his eyes, preparing for the wave of nausea. I share an awkward glance with Rhydian, before following suit. The nausea is actually minimal this time as the strange feeling washes over me. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s such a short phase walk, or if it’s because I’m getting used to the sensation.

  Rhydian releases my shoulder, and I open my eyes, looking around in surprise at the bland-looking apartment. There’s not a lot of personal belongings in this place, and it’s spotless, like a show home.

  “Does this place seem weird to anyone else?” I ask, as I walk further into the barrenly decorated home.

  “It feels like nobody lives here, but I guess, they don’t anymore,” Darren says, shrugging. “Some people don’t like to decorate.”

  “But isn’t it weird, there’s not even any family photos,” I say, looking over at all the empty space.

  “Maybe his family already dropped by to pick them up?” Rh
ydian suggests. A stabbing feeling hits me right in the gut. His family. I didn’t even think of that. When you see someone you think of as a monster, you don’t tend to think about who that person could be to someone else. He was someone’s son. Maybe even someone’s brother. As much as I hate to admit it, he probably even had a few friends too. They probably didn’t even know anything about his horrible, sickening side.

  “Are you okay, Kayla?” Darren asks, drawing me from my thoughts again.

  “Yeah, sorry. I was just feeling a little sick is all,” I mumble. “Let’s split up and search around. Look for anything that could possibly be magical. Darren, let me know if you smell anything weird in here.”

  “Weird?” he echoes.

  “Yeah, like a dead animal. It could be hidden under the floorboards or something, a beacon for a long distance curse,” I explain.

  “I can’t smell any dead things,” he says, shrugging.

  “Well someone died here,” Rhydian adds unhelpfully, earning himself an exasperated look from both of us. “Fine, I’ll check out the bedroom,” he offers, turning around and heading towards the back of the apartment where there are three doors. He opens the last door, and grins as he looks inside. “Bingo.”

  “Trust him to find the bedroom first time,” Darren mutters, making me snort.

  “Somehow, in that I had no doubt he would succeed,” I whisper back conspiringly. I look around, trying to take in every inch of the place. I run my fingers over the top of a small bookcase, checking my fingers for dust afterwards. Nothing. This place really is spotless.

  “Are you sure you should be getting your fingerprints everywhere?” Darren asks, his breath hitting the back of my neck. I whip around, surprised that he’d snuck up on me so easily.

  “I’ll just run a clean-up spell before we leave,” I explain. Or I’d ask Rhydian if he could anyway. I can’t trust my volatile magic right now. I’d end up blowing up the damn apartment. That’s one way to hide fingerprints. I laugh at my own thought, trying to relax a little.