Witch's Shadow (The Hemlock Chronicles Book 1) Page 5

  The man had no spirit, but in its place, threads of blue magic spiralled from his body. Necromantic power… like reanimation.

  Or possession.

  Holy shit. The vampire was possessing a dead body. A body that had recently been alive, if the blood streaming from his nose was any indication.

  Clever. If anyone who wasn’t a necromancer had run into the man bleeding in front of me, they’d have taken him for a living person, not an undead. And if they fought, they could have taken the man’s body to pieces and they’d never have found the real culprit. The vampire must be within the city limits to be exerting control over the dead body, right? But I’d seen him in the spirit realm hundreds of miles away.

  All right. Let’s deal with this. I readied an attack, but he caught my fist in his. An icy sensation spread through my body, creeping down my spine. Bone-chilling cold pierced me to the core, and threads of blue light streamed from me to him. His shadowy form loomed over me, the darkness growing, threatening to drown me.

  He was draining the very essence from me.

  Oh. So that’s why they call them vampires.

  “Stop…” My voice was faint. I didn’t know for sure how much my spirit could take before it gave up the ghost (sorry), but I didn’t want to find out the hard way.

  “Take me to your coven, Jas,” he whispered. “And I’ll let you go.”

  “I’ll take you to them,” I gasped, improvising. “Let go of me and we can talk somewhere more civilised.”

  If I knew the local covens, I’d be able to think of a plan, but the only coven I knew of was the one run by Isabel. As a fellow coven leader, she’d have access to powerful magic I could only dream of. And her coven’s headquarters was just down the road. She wouldn’t thank me for dumping a vampire on her doorstep, but what choice did I have? Not to mention the house was covered in wards and also contained Ivy Lane and her sword. I was pretty sure even this half-dead guy wouldn’t keep walking if decapitated.

  Whatever he wanted with the Hemlock Coven, he didn’t know where they lived. That could definitely work in my favour.

  The dead man kept a tight grip on my upper arms as I retraced my steps down the road leading to the witch’s house. I hope Ivy doesn’t decapitate me for leading a vampire to their doorstep. But the icy sensation pressing against my neck told me I was in serious danger of joining this one in the afterlife.

  Wards shone from the walls of the house. If they were standard security wards, the vampire wouldn’t be able to get inside, and I’d be in a position to mount a counterattack. I knocked on the door, and the vampire reached and pushed with a blast of kinetic energy that sent me pitching forwards. He caught my arm before I fell on my face… and followed me inside.

  Crap. This isn’t how it was meant to go.

  Isabel appeared in the doorway to one of the rooms, frowning at us. “Jas? I thought you left. Who’s that?”

  “Hey there,” I said. “Apparently I’m a hostage.”

  Her brows shot up. “Seriously?”

  The vampire didn’t move, doubtless scheming, but his grip on my arms tightened even further.

  “Who is he?” she asked. Not being a necromancer, she wouldn’t see the total absence of a soul.

  “A zombie, basically,” I said. “I hoped your wards would take him down.”

  “Huh. They should have done.”

  “What is this?” growled the vampire.

  I rammed my head backwards, smashing him in the face. Wrenching my arms free, I jabbed my elbow into his throat, knocking him into the already blood-splattered wall. He came upright, and I swept his legs out from underneath him. Isabel ran back into the hall, holding a handful of rubber bands. I hope those are spells, not stationary.

  The man caught my leg in a claw-like grip and unbalanced me, causing my head to hit the wall. In a surge, he was on his feet, grasping my arms behind my back once again.

  Ow. Jesus. No zombie should be this strong. The necromancer’s power must be through the roof. How was he keeping this thing going?

  I stomped on his foot, hard, then drove my heel into his shin. As his grip broke, Isabel threw one of the rubber bands. There was a bang and a flash of light, and the vampire let go of me, hitting the wall so hard it rattled.

  Isabel dusted off her hands. “I think he’s out cold.”

  “Thanks.” I stepped away from the body. “What kind of spell was that?”

  “I haven’t named it yet. It’s a cross between a knockout spell and a shield. I guess that counts as a successful test run.”

  I could see how she’d ended up as a coven leader. Spells came with so much potential for error that even fully trained witches often stuck with the safe, mass-produced ones instead of experimenting with their own. “You’re saying that’s the first time you’ve used it?”

  Isabel walked over to the man’s limp body. “It’s ninety percent similar to my other spells with the same base ingredient set, so there’s a certain degree of certainty. Since he’s not really alive, I figured it wouldn’t hurt him.”

  “Need a hand?” I moved to the dead man’s side. “Watch he doesn’t wake up.”

  “I have a trapping spell in there.” She indicated the partly open door she’d come out of, then lifted the man’s shoulders. Isabel was stronger than she looked, doing most of the work as we carried him through the door. The room within was laid out like a living room, except with the furniture moved against the walls and a large number of chalk circles and herbs spread across the floor. We deposited the vampire in a crumpled heap, while Isabel grabbed one of the bands she’d left on the sideboard, and threw it over him. The band expanded to contain the vampire in a circle of red light, forming criss-crossing lines over his body. A trapping spell, but more advanced than a market version.

  “Are all those spells hand-crafted?” I asked, fascinated despite myself. I’d always liked drawing the chalk circles and patterns, even if I couldn’t make anything magical materialise out of them.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ve been making my own brand for years. It’s easier than working with the limited range on the market.”

  I nodded in understanding. While I possessed no talent for crafting spells myself, everyone used them, even humans. Witch spells used to be confined to the supernatural community, but after the faerie invasion, demand had skyrocketed, particularly for spells to fix the damage the faeries had done and heal magic-related injuries. Market healing spells were expensive to buy unless you personally knew a witch—and these days, almost everyone did.

  “So you’re the Laurel Coven’s leader?” I asked, keeping one eye on the vampire in case he made an unexpected recovery. “You mentioned working with Ivy… she’s not a witch.”

  “No,” said Isabel. “Ivy and I have run our own business since before I was coven leader. She works for the mages now, too, but we still take on independent cases, and we do pretty well. We have a few other mercenaries helping out now. Mostly, we deal with faerie-related trouble. It’s her specialist area.”

  “And yours is magical explosions?”

  “That was more of a mild blast than an explosion. You should see the state of our old flat.” She dropped to her knees beside the vampire. “You’re right. How is he walking and not breathing?”

  “Haven’t a clue,” I said. “I have a whole bunch of necromancer contacts up in Edinburgh, but I can’t exactly take him with me even if Lady Harper and the Hemlock witches let me go back. Which they don’t seem inclined to do at the moment.”

  “Why would a vampire attack you to begin with?” she asked.

  “Because I have a target on my back, thanks to my being the Hemlocks’ heir,” I said. “Someone sent him to find the coven, but I don’t think he knows they’re in the forest. I thought the wards would destroy him.”

  “They should have, but I guess they got confused about whether he’s dead or living. Undead-proof charms are kind of essential around here.”

  “So who do you test them on? Vampires don�
��t walk in here every day.”

  She grinned. “Usually I test them on myself, otherwise Ivy volunteers herself, and then I end up with the Mage Lord hovering over my shoulder.”

  “I can see that. Wait, did you say the Mage Lord?”

  At that moment, Ivy herself walked in, her sword back in its sheath and her clothes lightly splattered with faerie blood. She raised an eyebrow at the vampire. “Another dead body, Isabel?”

  “He attacked Jas.” She moved to the other side of the circle. “He’s a vampire, apparently. Yes, they exist.”

  “I know they exist,” Ivy said, to my surprise. “They like to hang around the old pub I used to go to.”

  “Wait, you’ve met one before?” I asked. “Are they supposed to be… alive?”

  “Not if you killed it.” She eyed the body. “Looks dead to me.”

  “It was under someone else’s control,” I said. “Like a zombie, but more coordinated. When I checked into the spirit realm, it had no spirit. The only life in there was whoever was controlling it. The vampire. And he spoke through it. Did you see any of that in the vampires you’ve met?”

  Ivy’s brow furrowed. “Well, no. All they did was sit gloomily around in the corners. I mean, theoretically, there were necromancers all over the place, and I didn’t pay too much attention, but they didn’t look like zombies. They tend to smell much worse.”

  “First I’ve heard,” Isabel said. “Whenever people talk about vampires, I assume they mean bloodsucking fae. He’s human.”

  “Necromancy must be keeping him going,” I said. “That’s the only magic I see on him. Unless you see anything different?” Ivy’s abilities were unique, I’d heard, but I didn’t know the details.

  “No,” she said. “I can only see faerie magic, and he doesn’t have any. That’s… bizarre.”

  I stepped around the inert body. “He was looking for the Hemlock Coven. Lucky he didn’t know where they actually are.”

  “Wait, so Lady Harper wasn’t being paranoid?” said Ivy. “That’s a first.”

  “Yes, it is,” said Isabel, picking up more rubber bands. “If we destroy the vampire’s body, it should break the connection. Do you want to warn the Hemlocks, Jas?”

  I’d rather have three more rounds with the vampire than another conversation with Cordelia.

  “Maybe throwing a vampire at them would be an incentive to make them let me go home through their forest,” I said.

  Ivy and Isabel exchanged glances. “Lady Harper said your powers were untrained,” said Isabel. “When she asked me to help you, I didn’t know the Hemlocks brought you here against your will. Lady Harper told me they saved your life.”

  “I guess they did,” I relented. Or Evelyn Hemlock did, anyway. “But my magic… it’s more than untrained, I’ve never even used it before. And I don’t know why everyone suddenly wants me dead for it, either.”

  “You’ve never used magic?” asked Isabel.

  “I’m a necromancer,” I said. “Technically, I’m part mage, part witch, part necromancer, but I’ve only ever been able to use the spirit sight, so I’m not much use as a coven heir. They’re wasting their time trying to recruit me. Not that I’m ungrateful for the offer of help, but I left my friends up in Edinburgh, and whoever tried to kill me is still up there, too.”

  Isabel chewed on her lower lip. “Hmm. Lady Harper insisted you need guidance, for your own safety. I’m not sure how open to persuasion the Hemlocks will be, but I can come with you and help you plead your case.”

  “Are you sure?” I had my doubts they’d be any more responsive if I had another witch with me, but it’d be nice to have some moral support.

  “I’ll tell Lady Harper you left,” Ivy said to me. “I’m already on her bad side, so this is nothing. Isabel… what do you want to do? You’re the one assigned to train her.”

  “Lady Harper said nothing against taking a detour,” she said. “Hmm. I never did get a look at the market during the summit at Edinburgh.”

  Ivy grinned a little. “You should go with her. It’ll be a nice holiday, and it’s not like Lady Harper can breathe down your neck all the way up there.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past her,” I warned. “Seriously.”

  A hint of steel appeared in Isabel’s expression. “Oh, she can try. It’ll take my mind off Rick the Dick, too.”

  “Who?” I said blankly.

  Ivy snorted. “Her ex. Necromancer, and Grade A Twat. Maybe you’ll meet someone on your travels.”

  “I can set you up with one of my friends, but they’re all necromancers, too,” I said. “Also, you know. Distance. Unless you want to spend all your time in the Hemlocks’ forest. We’ll be lucky if they don’t take great offence and kick us out.”

  “They won’t object to you going home if I come with you, Jas,” said Isabel. “How’s that for a compromise?”

  I smiled. “That works. But I think we should get rid of the vampire’s dead body first.”

  6

  With Isabel at my side, I had fewer reservations about entering the forest again. Even the Hemlock witches wouldn’t smack around another coven’s leader.

  Ivy kept her sword out, and cast distrusting glances at the fence every so often as we walked down the road leading to the forest. Then without warning, she lunged, swiping at the bushes. A bunch of redcaps jumped out, fleeing into the trees with yowling screeches. The forest was right next to half-faerie territory on this side, which meant Unseelie faeries made their homes on the outskirts. While the Seelie faeries weren’t exactly angels either, the Unseelie had more of a reputation for preying on humans—if not in a literal sense, then by leading them to their death in the woods.

  Most humans avoided this area of town, where the road came to an abrupt end. I wasn’t old enough to remember what it’d looked like before the faerie invasion, but rumour said that the forest had appeared from nowhere around the same time, as though the influx of faerie magic had dragged it into existence. Considering the forest sat on a liminal space where the spirit lines crossed, I could believe it.

  Speaking of spirit lines, I never did find out what that ‘Ley Hunters’ shop was. But if anyone tried poking this particular spirit line, the forest would eat them alive.

  There was no actual path into the forest. We had to climb over the tree roots at the road’s end, then pick our way through the trees and try not to lose our trail. Not a single bird sang, while eerie silence pursued us. Even knowing that the witches were watching our every step didn’t make me feel any safer. Sure, the Hemlocks could destroy anything that attacked us, but they were capable of devising some seriously nasty traps for trespassers, human or otherwise. Their magic was tied into the forest to the degree that they could instantly sense if anyone entered and whether they posed a threat or not, and react accordingly.

  Now I had to hope Cordelia was in a forgiving mood, and that I hadn’t messed things up too badly when I’d inadvertently shown my magic to a vampire.

  “I never asked,” I said to Isabel. “Who carried me to the house? Lady Harper?”

  “You’ve got it,” she said. “No idea how she knew where to find you, but she often goes walking in the woods.”

  “She has a death wish.” Actually, I suspected the woman would fight Death itself when it came down to it. “Cordelia might not like me that much, but at least she didn’t leave me unconscious on half-blood territory.”

  While half-faeries obeyed the humans’ laws for the most part—significantly, the ‘don’t kill or eat people’ ones—there were never any guarantees their fae pets would behave themselves. Redcaps, goblins, trolls and kelpies all had a taste for human flesh.

  “The half-faerie Chief’s on the brink of losing his crown… again,” said Ivy. “He’s clinging to power by a thread, and things are on edge. Nothing new really, and the witches won’t allow fights to break out in the forest.”

  “You know the Hemlock witches personally?” I asked, surprised. They’d put me under a geas so
powerful that I hadn’t even been able to tell Lady Harper what they’d told or shown me during that last fateful meeting in the forest seven years ago. That’s why running had been the smartest option.

  “They’re not my biggest fans,” Ivy admitted. “Despite the fact that I saved their lives.”

  “You did?”

  Apparently that story would have to wait, because the forest chose that moment to plunge us into total darkness.

  “Not again,” Ivy muttered. “We’ve done this before. Can we skip this part?”

  She waved her sword, and its blue glow lit up the path enough that we could see one another.

  “The forest punishes trespassers,” I said. “Er, I thought you said you’ve been here before.”

  “We have,” said Ivy. “They’re just messing with us. They know who you are, right?”

  “Unfortunately. What I don’t get is how you two know who they are.” I inched forwards a few steps. “They told me—when I came in here as a teenager, they said even Lady Harper didn’t know their location. They put out the rumour that they were extinct.”

  “Yeah,” said Isabel. “I used to think they were a legend. When I was the second-in-command of the Laurel Coven, Francine—the last leader—always used to insist on leaving an empty space for them at summits when all the covens met. But none of us knew they still existed.”

  “What changed?” I asked.

  “An attempt on their lives,” said Ivy. “Several. I guess that’s why they decided to contact their heir.”

  It would be nice if said heir had had a choice in the matter.

  After the Hemlocks had made us stumble around in the dark for a bit, we reached a wooden door stretched between two trees. On the door was a symbol. I didn’t know its meaning, but the magic in me hummed in resonance as the door opened, revealing the Hemlocks’ cave. It looked exactly the same as before, down to the glyphs on the wall and Cordelia’s judgemental face staring from the stone sculpture in the centre.