Spells & Life

by Rachel Medhurst

  Going closer, I took hold of her wrist and looked at the tattoo. “So,” I muttered, almost laughing to myself when I studied the little intricate design. “The PFF are branding their members? That’s handy for me.”

  It was blatantly obvious that the design had the letters embedded in it. Why had the terrorist group made such a fatal mistake? Surely, the small mark would be too much of a giveaway to people like me? What was their game?

  “The leaders know nothing about these. We decided to get them for ourselves, not for them.” The man glared at me, his struggling ceased now that he was securely tied by my plant.

  Unable to prevent the smile that came to my lips, I contemplated what to do with the pair.

  “You’ll never win,” someone shouted from behind me.

  Something thudded into my back, sending me flying to the ground. My hands grazed the concrete as whatever had landed on me wrapped an arm around my neck. My stomach rolled as oxygen was instantly cut from entering my lungs.

  Throwing my elbow back as hard as I could, I clenched my teeth when the impact did nothing to dislodge my attacker. Clenching my fists, I pulled as much power as possible from beneath me, causing the Earth to shake violently. The sound of voices drifted into my head as I tried to breathe. My face burned as I attempted to throw whoever held me off my back. The bucking didn’t work.

  “Leave her,” one of the witches called. They’d obviously got backup. “She’ll kill you.”

  About to unleash all of the magic within me, I froze when the arm disappeared and air sucked down my windpipe, inflating my lungs. Gasping hard, I coughed several times, unable to concentrate on anything other than trying to breathe.

  Footsteps retreating entered my ears as I released some of the magic and the earth stopped moving. The spinning of my head gradually slowed as I stumbled to my feet and looked around. The cowards had disappeared, leaving the street completely empty apart from myself. They had got me down too easily. Taken me by surprise. My instinct was nowhere near as powerful as it had been when I was alive. It seemed that the longer I was dead, the weaker I was becoming.

  Getting my phone out, I contemplated whether to call my team. Deciding against it, I strode towards the pub at the end of the road. The bastards had run away which meant they had feared me. In a way, it didn’t really matter that they had almost got the better of me. In fact, my heart was slowly starting to freeze, unable to care too much about what was happening. Maybe I was depressed. Maybe I just needed to go and read a book.

  The sound of music from the karaoke filtered towards me as I got closer to the pub. A drink, that’s what I needed. When we had left the church the night before, Dave had insisted that we tried to find Xvair Harvey. Although we had tried to trace him online, it had been impossible. After almost 24 hours, we had decided to have a break. Which was why I had been heading to the pub to meet Brianna.

  Pushing open the door, I thrust my way inside. Most people were focused on my friend as she danced on the small stage and sang a Whitney Houston song. It seemed that she hadn’t missed me that much.

  “What can I get you?” the attractive barman asked, his eyebrows creasing when he saw the grazes on my palms.

  Folding my fingers into my hands, I whispered a healing spell as I rubbed them on my jeans. “Oh, I’ve been painting today. Can I have three vodka and lemonades, please?”

  I didn’t tell him that each one would be for me as he went about his work.

  Brianna came to the end of her song and hopped down from the stage, rushing over to greet me. She’d already drank several alcoholic beverages by the smell of her breath and the pitch of the giggle.

  “You finally made it.” Her breath rushed over me as she patted my cheek.

  Her long wavy brown hair was piled high on her head, her pretty brown eyes all big and wide. The energy that rolled off her was warm, and yet, dangerous. Her vampire tendencies were usually heightened when she’d been drinking, which was why I never went on a night out with her. Why had I come tonight? It had already caused me more harm than good. Bloody witches attacking me because I was an Essex witch. The PFF needed to be taken down.

  “I’m sorry, work was-”

  “Yeah, it always is,” she muttered, the bitterness in her tone covered by a fake bright smile. “Anyway, look who’s here!”

  Pointing to the corner, Brianna waved at Archie Roberts. Oh great. The attractive vampire book nerd who also wanted Joseph Cambridge dead. Could the night get any worse?

  As he came over, I picked up one of my drinks and downed it in one go. I currently had a serial killer on the loose, an ancient witch to find and a crazy bunch of people running a terrorist group. We might have Joseph and Helen Cambridge in custody, but the group still had other leaders. A vampire and a shapeshifter. They would probably carry on their legacy. Right now, I didn’t need a handsome vampire to quote Shakespeare at me.

  “Gemma,” Archie greeted, holding out one hand while he undid his jacket button with the other.

  Tempted to ignore his extended digits, I quickly downed my second drink before giving his hand a half-arsed shake. He tried to cling to my fingers, but I literally shook him off. My Miss Nice Girl attitude had run out for the day. Not that I’d had much spare recently.

  “What song did you sing?” I asked him as Brianna ordered more drinks.

  My friend was eye flirting with a human across the bar. Wait, wasn’t she in a relationship?

  “I’ve not indulged yet. Care to do a duet? We could attempt the Phantom of the Opera. The musical isn’t as good as the book, like all adaptions, but I have a soft spot for that song.”

  Now he was just trying to smarm his way into my good books. Brianna had obviously laid on my book obsession profusely. The man had what he wanted, he didn’t need to charm me anymore.

  “I’m not a singer. Brianna will happily give it a go.”

  Shoving another drink in my hand, Brianna threw her head back and laughed. “No, no, chica, I have more important things to do. We’ll catch up properly soon.”

  Throwing Archie a wink, she left us to join her new human friend. They spent all of two seconds speaking before he was rushing her out of the pub. That woman was incredible. Either she no longer cared for her human partner, or they’d split up without me knowing. Probably the latter considering how into my own shit I’d been.

  “That one is feisty,” Archie said, lowering himself onto the barstool next to me.

  Chucking my fourth drink down my throat, I cringed as the alcohol hit my stomach. My head started to spin as I ordered three more. With Brianna gone, there really was no point in me staying, but the warmth of being drunk called to me. Three more drinks and then I would leave.

  “Are you happy that we’ve got your sire?” I blurted, my words starting to slur slightly.

  Jeez, why was I such a lightweight with booze? Oh yeah, because I hardly ever drank. Being a kick-arse agent meant I had to be sober. Oops.

  Leaning back against the bar, the handsome vampire Archie watched me. “I’m very happy. Thank you for taking him off the streets. I’d heard rumours that he planned a big event on the Equinox. Not sure what it was though.”

  “I think I might know,” I muttered, shaking my head when he rose his eyebrows. As if I would give him that information. “Hear anything more about the demon thing?”

  “A friend from the PFF said something about a loophole in the realm between ours and hell. I tried to dig, but they quickly shut up when they remembered I wasn’t part of the group.”

  That was interesting. Even as my brain was muddled from drink, my mind tried to grab at what he was saying.

  “You’re quite drunk,” Archie said when I stared at him. My eyes screwed up as I tried to focus on his pretty face.

  “And, you like books... you, you, bookworm!”

  His gaze traced the writing on my T-shirt. “Reading is Life. If you don’t agree, you’re dead. Very... mature?”

  Who was he to decide how mature I was bas
ed on my shirt? He could go suck my butt.

  “I’ve got to tell my friend something,” I blurted suddenly.

  Taking my phone out, I used my free hand to down the last drink. Six vodkas in ten minutes. Not bad for a lightweight book nerd witch with a weak link to the ley line. Texting Dave, I laughed to myself when he tried to ring.

  “I just told him that I’m getting chatted up by a vampire I don’t trust.” I giggled to myself when Archie crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Is your friend coming to help you home?”

  “What book made you re-evaluate your life?” My deep question jolted him. Where had it come from?

  One moment, I was telling Dave to come and get me. The next, I was asking bookworm vampire an extremely personal question.

  Rubbing his jaw as his brown eyes searched my face, Archie took a moment to respond. “The Celestine Prophecy.”

  “Wow. I didn’t take you for the metaphysical type.”

  Shrugging, Archie caught my arm when I went to raise it to catch the attention of the barman. Apparently, I was being cut off. Spoil sport.

  “Some people have faith in religions, some people believe in spiritualism. No one is wrong, and no one is right.”

  “What about destiny? Is it really my destiny to be a slave to the ley line? To Paranormal MI5?”

  My teeth snapped shut when I heard the words outside of my head, catching my tongue between them. Swearing, I wished hard that I could take back what I’d said as Archie kept his gaze trained on mine.

  “You have a choice in everything you do, especially as an adult. The way you perceive things, the way you react to them. That’s all on you. The world could be ending, and yet, you can choose to see it as a new beginning.”

  Shit, the man was a philosopher. Saying that the end of Earth would be a new beginning and shit. It was deep. He was my soulmate. He had to be. So many people said I was a little sensitive, a bit too deep. And, yet, the vampire sitting next to me had just dropped a spiritual bomb into my mind.

  “Gemma?” Ah crap, Dave had found me.

  My desk friend appeared by my side, a very unpleasant smile aimed at my soulmate. Okay, that was taking it a bit too far. Vampires were not my type, but he was a bit dreamy.

  “She’s a little drunk,” Archie said as he got up from his seat. “See you again, Gemma.”

  He didn’t wait for me to reply as he wove his way out of the pub. Kate and Jake almost bumped into him when they burst through the doors.

  “I love karaoke,” I heard Kate shout above the latest howler.

  Blinking, I turned towards the bar, ready to ask for another drink. Archie had drink-blocked me, but Dave-

  “No you don’t,” he interrupted my indication to the barman by swinging my chair towards him. “You’ve had enough. I’ve never seen you this drunk.”

  What was he talking about? “I’m perfectly fine, thank you. I can string a sentence together and everything.”

  “The drink you are holding is spilling over your lap and you didn’t even notice.” Taking the almost full glass from me, Dave placed it on the counter.

  Wait. Where did that come from? Hadn’t I finished all my drinks?

  Dave’s floating head came closer as Kate and Jake joined us. Pushing him on his strong chest, I swung back to the bar and placed my forehead on the cool wooden surface.

  “I’m sick of being dead and weak,” I muttered. “When they just attacked, they almost had the better of me.”

  My tone was whiny, even to me. Dave’s sharp intake of breath when I’d spoken had gone ignored. He was stupid, he shouldn’t be surprised that I had been attacked.

  “You’re not dead,” Jake said, taking my arm and jerking me to sit up. “You’re just drunk.”

  “I am dead!” I enthused my dilemma far too enthusiastically, throwing my hands high as I sighed.

  “Gemma,” Dave warned.

  What was wrong with him? My team should know! I was a dead witch. And, a serial killer was after me, and probably the one who wanted to marry me. Oh, what if the serial killer was actually...?

  “Shit, I think I just solved the murders.” My words slurred as the others shook their heads at each other.

  “Why did she say she was dead?” Jake’s blue eyes were screwed up as he looked at me.

  Glancing at Dave, I touched the sleeve of his smart navy suit jacket. “Tell them! They need to know. I’m just getting weaker, and I need their help.”

  The twitch of his lips told me that he wasn’t happy. My head was spinning as my stomach rolled. I’d well overdone it with the drink.

  “Fine.” Heaving out his breath, Dave shrugged at me as he checked that the humans in the pub were busy listening to the man on the stage. “Gemma was shot when chasing Peter Mason. She bled out on the pavement and technically died. However, the ley line’s magic has kept her alive.”

  Their faces were blurring a little for me, but it didn’t look like either one of them believed us as they glanced at each other.

  “Are you as drunk as her?” Jake laughed nervously.

  “It’s true, I spoke to the ancestors and everything. I can’t bring myself back to life without consequences. Mother Earth does not like dark magic.” My off-handedness made them stare at me.

  Maybe the drink was making me a little too careless.

  “Let’s take this somewhere else,” I muttered, gesturing for them to link hands.

  They did, their eyebrows raised in question as I closed my eyes and whispered a relocation spell.

  Jake and Kate almost stumbled when we landed in my living room. Dave moved away to examine my framed poster of the Labyrinth. A film that reminded me vividly of my childhood.

  Waving a sobriety spell around my head, I yawned as the feeling of being drunk left me. I didn’t instantly regret my decision to tell my team about my state like I thought I would. In fact, relief flooded me as they glanced around the room, their eyes clocking every bit of book or film paraphernalia. Yes, I was a little nerd, but they knew that already.

  “Okay.” Sighing, I sat on the sofa. “Everything I’m saying is the truth.”

  Jake and Kate stared down at me as Dave moved to sit on a chair. They were silent as they watched me, a question in their gaze.

  “I didn’t tell you because I’m vulnerable. Outside the pub, I was attacked by witches from the PFF. While casting a spell, the magic lessened, causing me to lose momentum. I’ve never felt that before.” Clearing my throat, I fought back the urge to cry. “Ever since I was killed, my link has weakened, and someone, the serial killer, has managed to start draining the ley line.”

  “But, how?” Kate asked, thumping down on the sofa next to me. “Only an Essex witch can link into the line.”

  Taking a deep breath, I looked at Dave. He was staring off into the distance, not taking much notice of us. I wasn’t surprised he’d disconnected himself. He was the only one who knew the whole story. It was time to share the burden.

  “I think the serial killer is an Essex witch. One that I’m supposed to marry.”

  “What?” Jake choked on the word as he stood in the middle of the room.

  There, I’d admitted it out loud. Dave’s attention was back on me, a slight nod of the head an indication that he agreed.

  “I’m sorry I kept this from you, but I was scared that I couldn’t trust you.”

  Kate’s mouth dropped open, her resentment of my confession glaringly obvious. Okay, so if I was truly honest, I wasn’t exactly 100% sure I could trust them fully now, but I was sick of hiding everything from them. Especially now I knew that the killer wanted me.

  Rubbing his jaw, Jake shook his head. “Did you just say that the serial killer is your fiancé?”

  A laugh burst from my chest as Dave growled low in his throat. “Of course not,” he snapped. “Since when has Gemma been engaged?”

  Shrugging, Jake held his hands up in surrender. “Chill, dude, I’m just a little confused right now.”

  Explai
ning my father’s bet, I told them everything about how I’d basically been betrothed to some powerful witch’s son. Their facial expressions when I explained that the man had lived for centuries and wasn’t a vampire almost made me laugh. I couldn’t believe it either.

  “If the serial killer is able to access the line, he’s using the power to prevent me from seeing what he’s doing,” Kate said, her hands clasped in her lap.

  She’d been extremely frustrated that she’d not been able to use her gift in the case. I understood, I felt that same vulnerability. My skills had lessened since my death, my mind not completely on my job.

  “There is something else,” I muttered, my gaze seeking Dave’s again.

  Taking over, Dave stood up and started to pace. “To get her memories back, Gemma had to do something for the ancestors. An elder brought back Gemma’s father for a short time.”

  Both the other agents gasped, their eyes widening. They knew that my father had been dead since I was a child. Not only that, they also knew that witches who messed around with death would turn their magic impure.

  “The ancestors took the price so the elder didn’t have to pay it,” I interrupted before they could accuse me of putting her in danger. “My father warned me that if I didn’t marry the man who is trying to drain the line, and stop him, the evil from hell or the underworld or whatever it is, will get free. The imbalance of magic will rid the veil that keeps us separate.”

  Both Kate and Jake huffed out their breath, the sound echoing throughout the room. Neither one of them knew what to say. It was a pretty big threat that my father had thrown our way.

  “Our plan of action,” Dave interrupted. “... is to find the man that Gemma’s father made a bet with. Once we know him, we’ll know his son. That’s our culprit. That’s the man who’s killing innocent people.”

  “Yes!” Kate said. “That would explain why he had the wedding rings on those women. The blood splatter of your coat of arms makes sense too. All this time, the bastard has been doing this to get your attention.”