“Poor child must’ve been unhappy,” Cassandra said in a whisper as we stood in a large empty space, it was to the left from entering the front door. “I mean, there’s nothing here for him at all, not a single sign he was even here.”
“Wherever he is, I hope we can get a read on him here,” I said.
It was going to be difficult, the family had only been here for two weeks, there wasn’t a single imprint on anything, and there didn’t appear to be anything noteworthy we could take to find out.
Turning in the empty dining room, I spotted an ajar door at the end of the far wall. It opened slowly, revealing a bright light pouring across the floor.
The room was long, and inside two makeshift desks had been constructed from bare plywood, pinned together in a haphazard manner, even the visible nails and screws. It looked somewhat like a death trap.
“The office,” the boy’s father spoke softly from behind us. Ryan stood with his shoulders drooping and hands deep in his pockets. “The only place we actually go.”
“Oh?” Cass scrunched her face.
“I’m a graphic designer,” he said. “Work-from-home kinda deal.”
“And what does your wife do?” I asked.
“An accountant,” he replied, turning in the direction of the front door. “We moved here because of a job.” He stepped forward, passing us into the room.
I joined him in the room. “Yours or hers?”
“Her job.” He pointed to a cushion on the floor. “That’s where he sits when we’re both working.”
Cassandra cleared her throat with a slight cough. “I had a question,” she said, raising a hand slightly. “What did he do for fun? The house is a little empty.”
His lips dropped as he rubbed at the end of his chin. “He has his teddy. Talks to it a lot.”
“Like an imaginary friend?” Cass asked.
“I guess.”
Imaginary friends were problematic for witches, given that they only existed for the child, otherwise it would’ve been easier. Perhaps he was speaking to a ghost, but ghosts don’t travel far from where they lived. “I know you’ve probably been over it a thousand times already,” I said. “But, can you tell me more about what happened when you realised he’d gone missing?”
His forehead furrowed into several lines. “It was like, every other morning. He—he was getting ready for school.” His eyes darted all over the room, not settling on one spot for too long. “My wife checked on him early to make sure he was out of bed, and he was. Of course, like every child his age, getting up in the morning is the worst, and I’m sure when he’s a teen it’ll be hell.” A smile touched his lips as he thought to the future, but it quickly faded. “I’m the strong one, everything has to be alright.”
I rubbed a hand against his back. “I know, I know.”
“If he’s out there, he’ll be found,” Cassandra added.
He looked around, tears teetered over the edge of his lashes. “I believe you.”
“When did you find out he was missing?” I asked.
Shaking his head, an audible throat clenching gulp ruptured from inside. “We thought it was a joke. Hide and seek. After thirty minutes of searching—” a shallow gasp escaped him. “And there’s only so many places to look here.”
He was right. If the boy was hiding, they’d have been able to find him, somewhere, and probably in less than thirty minutes. A pang struck my stomach, like hunger, but I wanted to vomit.
“Did he leave?” Cassandra asked.
Ryan pushed a hand to his face, squeezing his fingers into his eyes slightly. “No.”
I knew we were pushing it, asking questions we shouldn’t, questions the police would’ve asked and they’d have already answered. “Can we see his room?” I asked, trying to change the tone.
“I can’t—can’t go up there,” he said. “You can, it’s the first door on the left.” A shudder ran through his back. “The door on the right is locked. Don’t try and open it.”
We left him alone, standing in his office, looking around at everything inside. The house was filled with an incredible amount of natural lighting, it almost made the blank walls and whitewash sheen to everything bearable, like a fancy art gallery.
We both stared at the door on the right. There was no visible lock, but there was a sign from the handle. “Master,” Cassandra said. “We can take a peek?”
“No, we’ll respect them,” I said, turning to the left.
The left-hand side had a hallway with four doors, each of them open, each with visible rays of light pouring out, except the first room on the left. The room had a window, but there wasn’t much light passing through the race car patterned curtains.
“At least it’s decorated,” Cassandra remarked, standing outside what we presumed to be the boy’s bedroom.
The room was the most decorated in the entire house, from the curtains to the blow-up bed with the sheet and duvet over it. There were clothes strewn across a white shaggy square rug, and posters tacked over the walls. Posters with footballers, fancy cars, and films.
“A little messy too,” I said with a smile, it was lived-in. “We might get a read.”
Stepping into the room with caution not to disturb anything, I noticed a set of built-in wardrobes against the entire right side of the wall. It was colder inside, like someone had left a window open.
“Feel that?” Cass asked.
“Cold?”
Cass tiptoed across the floor toward the window. “Not eerie cold, but yeah.”
An eerie coldness often meant there was another entity around, but this didn’t give me any of those feelings, instead, it made me feel like applying another layer. It was chilly, and it definitely wasn’t yet winter.
“It’s closed,” she said.
“Odd,” I grumbled, looking around the room for a sign.
Hiss.
Cassandra jumped back, falling on the bed and bouncing back. “Did you—”
My tongue swelled in my throat. I wasn’t prepared. “Yeah.”
“Do they have any live animals?”
Gurr.
It came from the cupboard.
TEN
Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps the cold spot did mean there was something strange afoot. In my mind, I had this all pegged as a human job, but it was meant for us. I relaxed my shoulders back and nodded at the cupboard.
Urrh.
I approached first, keeping Cassandra behind, not quite prepared for whatever it was we were about to find. I snapped my fingers and four individual closet doors swung open.
Nothing.
Except for a white metal boiler.
“Think we found the source,” I said, closing my eyes to relieve the anxious pressure building inside my throat. No matter how often I went into a situation blind, there was always a little blip of what could be stuck inside, and that brought the worst out in my fears.
“Strange place for a boiler,” Cass said.
I hummed. “It is.”
For a moment, I thought we’d figured out what had happened to their son. I tried to ready myself for a fight. It could’ve been any number of demonic forces lurking inside the cupboard, but there was nothing.
“It could be a natural cold spot,” Cass suggested. “You’d think it’d be warmer because there’s a boiler in here.”
I continued to look around on a hunch. “But no radiator.”
“Whatever it is, I know we should be here.”
From the hallway, I check the other rooms. There was a large bedroom at the end of the hall, it was empty, except for a few bedsheets and blankets on the floor. The room beside the boy’s room was the bathroom, giving some context to why the builders thought adding the boiler to the other room was a good idea. I was no plumbing expert, but I knew my boiler was in the kitchen, even though my room was beside the kitchen, I knew the boiler wasn’t intruding on my space.
“So many rooms,” Cass said, appearing for the room opposite the bathroom. “How many bed
rooms is it?”
“Four?” I shrugged. “If that room at the end is a room, then yeah, four.”
“So?” a voice broke from behind me.
I turned. “Hello.”
Jennifer stood at the end of the hall, her back against the locked door. “D—d—did you find anything?” she asked, scrunching a tissue in her hand.
Cass came from the boy’s room to see Jennifer.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “There’s nothing here.” I approached her, offering her sympathy as I stretched my hand out.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me close. “I want my baby back,” she said, crumbling into tears as she dropped to her knees. “I want my baby.” She continued, tugging on my arm from the floor.
“We’ll try and help,” I said.
Cass touched her hand. “We will.”
“Jennifer,” Ryan called from the foot of the staircase. “Come back.”
Jennifer complied with her husband, letting go of my hand. She pushed, pressing her back against the wall. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
We followed her down stairs. I was unsure if she’d stumble and fall, but her husband stood with his arms ready to catch and embrace her. He wrapped his arms around her on the bottom step, pressing his mouth to her ear.
They took a moment before moving and meeting us by the front door. Squeezing each other’s hands. I didn’t want to break their already fragile hearts, but there was nothing here. Other than the locked door we weren’t allowed behind.
I shook my head as he locked eyes with me.
“Anything?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
There was still the matter of the cold spot, but natural cold spots occurred everywhere. We couldn’t rule it out, but we also couldn’t blow it out of proportion.
“What will we do now?” she grumbled in her husband’s arms.
Cass sighed loudly. “We will do everything we can to help.”
“But we can’t pay you,” she replied.
I waved a hand and scrunched my face. “We don’t want money.”
“We’re helping,” Cassandra added.
“We want to make sure your son is safe.”
Usually, I’d never promise something I couldn’t deliver. It came as part of the oath; don’t mark yourself liable. We did just that, even by being here and offering the slightest solitude with our words.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.” She swung her arms around me and Cass, pulling into a giant hug by our necks. “I’ve always believed in a higher power.” Releasing her grasp on us, she planted a single kiss on both our cheeks.
Ryan’s thin lips were pressed into a smile. “We appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” he said. As his wife wandered off through the living, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, she’s not doing too well.”
“That’s okay.”
I’d given them hope.
Now it all relied on us.
ELEVEN
As we left, escorted down the garden path by the police officer, I noticed everyone huddle around the gate. They spoke loudly, vying for our attention. I held my chin high, looking over their heads that’s when my eyes gravitated toward a black car.
I locked eyes with the man in the driver’s seat. For a moment as we walked, I was transfixed on the figure and he was fixed on me. I pulled my gaze to Cassandra who seemed to embrace all the eyes on her.
“Come on,” I grumbled, pulling my purple scarf from my jacket pocket, “let’s get home.”
“Can you comment on how the family is doing?” one reporter asked, sticking her microphone into my face.
I’d never experienced anything quite like it. I held a hand out, pushing the microphone away. Cass copied my movements as we sidestepped the rest of the reporters.
“Maybe we should all go inside if they’re letting anyone in,” one of the mothers remarked, standing proudly in her circle of friends.
Cassandra tugged my elbow, pulling me on my way
I shook my head. “They’re not worth my time.”
The gossips and rumour mill workers weren’t worth the time and energy it took to reason with. They were supposed to be parents, yet their compassion was truly lacking.
“Think we should ward the place for her?” she asked. “Do a little spell, maybe?”
I shook my head once again. We couldn’t be doing magic for humans unless it was for their own wellbeing, and even then, we needed their permission. “They have the police there,” I said, turning to gesture at the officer by the door. As I spun back, I locked eyes with the man in the dark car. “They’re safe.” I stepped out into the middle of the road, away from the congested street.
“Animals,” I head Cassandra grumble back.
I stared directly at the man, like his eyes had followed us from the garden path to the street, and now as I stood in the middle of the road.
“You okay?” she asked, turning to glance in the same direction. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know,” I slowly spoke, shifting my body left toward Cassandra. “But they’re a little odd.”
“Probably a reporter,” she said. “Vultures.”
Probably. Or an investigator, looking into the missing boy. It appeared a more likely scenario, and we had just come from the family home. I shook the thought away. “Let’s get back,” I said.
“Before they follow us.”
Once we were on Eden Road, I stalled and did a three-sixty turn to make sure we hadn’t been stalked home.
“Anything?” she asked.
A hand played with the scarf at my neckline. “Nobody.” We strolled, enjoying the sun as it crossed over, blessing us with clear blue skies. “Did you feel anything in the house?”
She glanced at her feet and pushed a finger to her bottom lip, letting her front teeth sink into it. “Kinda,” she said. “But it might’ve been indigestion.”
“No, no, no,” I said, pulling her hand away. “If you have a feeling, pick it apart.” I grabbed both hands and squeezed gently into her palms. “Feel it, find out where it came from.”
“Okay, well—” She closed her eyes and extending her fingers out as I held her hands. “I couldn’t feel anything else in the house, no eyes, no whispers. I was spooked, a little, and I know that’s how you know when there’s a ghost.”
I hummed, letting go of her hands. “Not all the time.”
“It’s like a knot in my stomach.”
“Okay, okay,” I said as we began walking again. “I feel a call, like I need to know more, which is usually the case. He’s out there, but not in the house, which begs the question—”
“—where is he?” she continued.
We reached the gate, taking in the sun and neighbours in lawn chairs did the same. It was quiet and peaceful as birds chirped and sang. This wasn’t quite a neighbourhood for children, considering most of the road was made of bungalows.
“Are you going to tell Greg?” she asked.
Probably. “That we went to visit? Or that we feel something is off?”
She rubbed at her chin, trying not to look directly at me.
“I get it,” I said, filling her void of response. She didn’t want me to tell him anything about either of those events.
“Well, are you?”
“I’ll tell him we visited, of course, but as he’s not a witch, I won’t tell him everything. I play my cards very close to my chest, and so should you.”
She nodded, pushing the gate. “It’s not me I’m worried about,” she said in a chuckle before rushing to the front door.
I didn’t know what else I could do or explain to her, but humans were quite harmless, unless they were possessed or considering becoming a something else.
Cassandra was in the living room, her eyes glued to the television as the local news channel played.
“—a high-level theft has taken place at a dairy farm where one local milkman has lost all his bottled milk,” the reporter spoke. “Unfortunately, there’s
not a single shred of CCTV or evidence on the property.”
I stood in the doorway, watching as Cass scoffed. “Who’d steal milk?”
“Someone in desperate need,” I said. “But only a bottle or two.”
Cass threw her hands up. “Maybe this is our case, instead of the missing boy.”
I narrowed my eyes at the television and nodded. “Perhaps. There are certainly many different types of creatures who drink milk.”
“Don’t know why they don’t take the cow, it’ll probably be easier.”
But there was more to milking a cow than squeezing milk into a bucket and pouring it into glass bottles. I knew because I’d seen many factories during my travels; it wasn’t uncommon to have reports of cows going missing—many creatures nowadays went for animals than they did fifty years ago with humans.
Smash.
It was close.
Smash.
From the kitchen.
TWELVE
In a hurried blaze, the back door swung open as Gregory barged in, pulling his muddy gloves off. I stood with Cass, both of us glaring at Jinx as she strolled across the counter, staring at the broken glass on the kitchen floor.
Clutching the pashmina scarf by my neckline, I was thankful it had been Jinx and not something else. After visiting the family, my nerves were on edge, even if I felt calm since then. I’d never had so many nerves, but it was the price to pay for settling instead of constantly being on the move.
“Been out?” Greg asked.
Cassandra’s heated stare fell from Greg to me.
“Yes,” I said, pulling at the arm of my jacket. “We went to see the family on Mercy Avenue.”
“Ahhh,” he raised his brows at me. “So, what I said yesterday must’ve resonated with you?”
Somewhat, I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to doing it. “It was more of a comfort call for the family.”
Monster Magic in Witchwood Page 4
