Mist, Murder & Magic Page 5

  ‘Shut up,’ Azazel snapped. ‘Or I shall eat you, too.’ The dog whined as he passed. Azazel walked right up to the house and noticed an elderly couple—hmm, not a large meal there—and, oooh. His stomach rumbled as a burly younger man came out of the shed, carrying two large bundles of hay. Their son, perhaps. Now that is a good entrée, he thought with a smile. The man was large and bulky. Azazel’s black forked tongue licked his lips. If there were any angels about, this ought to get their attention. The humans finally noticed him. The old woman cried out in a start, surprised, her aged heart fragile.

  ‘Oh!’ she said in a squeaky voice. ‘Are you lost?’ she called. The older man put a hand on her arm as the younger one stepped forward.

  ‘Can I help you?’ asked the bulky entrée. Azazel licked his lips again, and the man started back with a frown.

  ‘I think you can, actually.’ Azazel smiled. ‘I was rather hoping I could stay for dinner.’

  He picked the hay-carrying man up and twisted his neck sharply—it made a delightful cracking noise—and the older humans started screaming. The elderly man even threw a shovel at him. Azazel laughed, ignoring them. He bent down, and enjoyed his supper while the mother screamed, crying, begging for him to stop.

  Come on, angels, Azazel thought. If you’re still here, come and get me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hella

  Piper, Amara, Tessa and all the witches put together could not stop Hella from going back to the Witches’ Wares store to deal with this new mess they had made.

  ‘Thank you for everything,’ Hella said to Amara, indicating her new, surprisingly fashionable clothes: she was wearing smooth jeans, a black-lace top, a knee-length leather jacket and gorgeous black boots. The shower had been amazing, and much-needed, just as much as the lasagne she had devoured when Amara brought it to her. ‘But I have to go deal with this. Harrow is like this because of something I did. Don’t give up on him yet. I can get him back.’ Hella held Amara’s hands, and she knew the faerie cared for them both enough to let her go.

  Piper, however, was not so easy. ‘I just got here,’ she said. ‘I can’t let you go back—’

  ‘Let me? What makes you think you get any kind of say in what I do?’ Hella was being snarky, and that was unlike her. She wondered if her teenage rebellion was coming a little late. She was almost seventeen, after all. ‘Look, I appreciate what you’ve done, but I won’t let you kill him, so what do you want me to do? Just let a soulless, angry Nympha loose on the world? No. We have to do something about this. And I’m not leaving him alone with Net any longer.’

  Now it was Hunter and Lola’s turn. ‘We’re coming with you.’ There was nothing aggressive or demanding about it. She could see it in them, they were being supportive. ‘You’re still a little drained. Besides, that store needs a magical make-over,’ Lola said with a smile. ‘Let us help.’

  Tessa opened her mouth but was quickly turned down. ‘You’re staying here, Tessie,’ Hunter said softly, all sisterly protection. Tessa pouted, but nodded. The little faerie gave Hella a quick hug, then went off to her room, still looking a little pale.

  Hella tied up the new jacket, fastening it around her waist, and looked up at Piper. ‘Until I can speak to Meele, don’t expect me to believe you.’ Hella had experienced far too many betrayals recently to take much at face-value, and Piper was a stranger.

  Piper nodded. ‘I understand, Hellora. But know this, whatever you believe, I am on your side.’

  Hella looked her up and down, still dressed head-to-toe in badass black and her rainbow weapons. ‘Okay, well, I won’t complain about that.’ Together, the four women headed off to the store. Hella hoped she hadn’t left Harrow with Nerretti for too long.

  Hella’s mouth dropped open when she walked into the store. Nerretti, who, under her worst fears, she’d worried was dead by Harrow’s hand, stood in the middle of the main room, neatly stacking the salvageable books from the wreckage. His white-stained angel uniform had been discarded and he was wearing a red flannel shirt and jeans with brown boots. Hella would have been less surprised if all of the angels had returned. ‘What the—’

  Harrow was there too.

  Sweeping.

  The boy with no soul was sweeping.

  Hella looked to her companions, she was not alone in her surprise.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Net spread his arms wide. ‘Harrow said I should get changed, but since I live on this planet now, I didn’t have anything to change into, so we went shopping!’

  Hella did notice that Harrow’s own clothes were fresh too, cleaner jeans, and a non-faded black shirt. ‘You…went shopping? The angel and the boy with no soul, just casually went shopping?’

  Harrow shimmered and smiled. ‘Just because I don’t have a soul, doesn’t mean I like to be dusty.’

  Net nodded. He was surrounded with stock he—and apparently Harrow—had picked out of the wreckage of the store. There was something about the former angel being surrounded by books that weirdly suited him. He picked an old one up and gently dusted off the pages, treating them with a respect only a booklover could.

  ‘You like books, don’t you?’ Hella asked him.

  Net didn’t look up. ‘I do. I always have. A rare trait in an angel, mind you.’ Now, he did look at them. ‘So, what’s up? You look better, Hella.’

  Hella thought it was the stupidest question Net had ever asked. What in the hell do you think is up, Net? She blinked at him a few times. ‘What is not up?’ She nodded at Harrow.

  ‘Ah. Of course. Come on in, I guess,’ he said. They all moved to the adjoining room, all of the women staring pointedly at Harrow.

  ‘I’m surprised you didn’t kill him,’ Hunter said to Harrow bluntly.

  Lola tapped Hunter, eyes wide, ever polite. She was similar to Tommy in that way, Hella noticed.

  Harrow looked over at Net. ‘So am I.’ He shrugged, as if he’d considered it but couldn’t be bothered. ‘But he’s a surprisingly good shopping buddy.’

  They all sat on the couches. A part of Hella wanted to sit with Harrow, but instead she sat next to Nerretti. ‘What happened? I expected you to have to tie him to a chair or something, at least.’

  Nerretti shrugged. ‘I checked him out. Did a few spells on him, took his blood—he got angry at that—so we went outside, and realised how filthy we were, so we went shopping and came back here. This place really needs a magical assist.’

  Hella blinked at him. ‘Were you always this weird?’ It wasn’t meant as an insult, but it kind of sounded like one.

  Net considered her question seriously. ‘I believe so, yes. We just have to keep Harrow calm. The tests I did proved that he certainly does not have a soul, and his moral compass sure seems off, but otherwise all of his mental faculties are in place, and he seems okay physically. The spell just took his soul.’ Net sighed.

  Hunter and Lola stared at Harrow, both frowning suspiciously. Hella noticed they were holding hands.

  ‘It looks like something’s on your mind, ladies,’ Harrow said, his tail swishing in the air. He sat in what used to be Remy’s favourite armchair by the fire. Sometimes the store felt oddly empty without the grouchy old lady, no matter how much Hella had come to dislike her. Hella touched the amulet around her neck that she always kept on.

  ‘You nearly killed my sister,’ Hunter spat. ‘And Hella.’

  Harrow smiled. ‘Hmm-hmm?’ His tone very much implied, what’s your point?

  Hunter made to launch herself at Harrow, but Lola held her back.

  ‘Hey, stop. That won’t help,’ Lola said. Hella noticed that whenever Hunter, their resident hybrid Cambion-witch, got a little overzealous, Lola was there as the yin to her yang, the calmer of the two to curb her girlfriend’s outbursts.

  Hella got up and stood between them for good measure. ‘Hunter, it’s not really him. Just help me fix this place up. Please? Remy was my guardian, but she never taught me any spells.’ It was as mu
ch to distract Hunter as it was to fix the store.

  Hunter’s anger quelled as her expression turned to surprise. ‘Never? Not any?’

  Hella shook her head. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Well that’s outrageous,’ Lola said. ‘Okay, Hella. We want to do what we call a Restoration Spell.’ They all looked out at the store and up at the caved in ceiling. Hella remembered seeing the angels sucked up back into Heaven, streaks of white light in the sky.

  Piper remained silent as Hunter and Lola positioned Hella in the doorway to the main room. She kept a watchful eye on Harrow.

  ‘Now, you are the promised witch, so you’re very powerful, Hella,’ Hunter began. ‘But Lola and I are going to hold your hands, that’ll balance everything out so you don’t accidently blow the place up. Okay?’ Hunter was level-headed and calm again. There seemed to be two Hunters: the normal Hunter, calm and focused, and the zealous, deadly Hunter, who would sacrifice anyone who threatened those she cared for. Hella had never thought her name suited her more.

  Hella’s eyes widened. ‘I’m going to blow it up?’

  ‘No,’ Lola said firmly, taking her left hand.

  ‘I don’t know, guys. Hella has a way of messing up spells pretty badly,’ Harrow said from his armchair. He waved down at himself as proof. Piper glared at him. Net poked his shoulder.

  The comment hurt, but Hella ignored him. Hunter took her right hand then produced a vial of pink liquid from her pocket. She threw it into the general centre of the debris and began chanting. Unsure of what to do, Hella stayed quiet.

  ‘Just focus your chakras,’ Lola whispered to her, and she nodded.

  It felt like a long time since Hella had reached for her powers. Now that she had finally rested, they were easy to call upon; there was no danger in overusing them. She felt her magic align within herself and watched as everything in the store began to move. The broken ceiling had shattered the concrete throughout the store, but now, it was sucked upward and seemed to sew itself back together in a way that reminded Hella of Amara’s healing powers—Hella’s own healing power was far more unreliable.

  The dust vanished, and the shelves which had been broken mended themselves and returned to their original homes; the books that had broken, pages torn and stained, were wiped clean, sewn back together, and put away. It was like that scene from Fantasia, the old movie. Hella’s head whipped around and, for the first time in a while, a smile spread over her face. It felt strange, her cheeks moved uncomfortably. The bookstore she had first walked into finally reappeared, whole and untainted by blood or shards of glass.

  ‘I guess my sweeping was useless,’ was all Harrow said.

  ‘You’re useless,’ Hunter muttered. The witches broke apart, both beaming at Hella. ‘See what you can do with a little guidance?’ Hunter said, this time with a bright smile.

  ‘Thank you,’ Hella said, grateful to have been able to fix something. She looked at Net. ‘Now that Remy is gone’—she paused. Nerretti had been allies, perhaps even friends with Remy before the angel battle. He knew a lot about witches and spellwork, and the way he held books, as preciously as she did, made her realise something. ‘Net, you saved us all. Without you, we wouldn’t be here.’ Tears welled in Hella’s eyes. ‘Net, will you take over the store for us?’

  Net’s ever-friendly face broke into a surprised chuckle. He came over and gave Hella a gentle hug. He leaned down to her a little. ‘I would be honoured, little witch.’ It was a moment of rare happiness.

  It would have been nice if it had lasted for more than a moment. Someone broke down the literally newly-fixed door. They all jerked back. Lola yelped. Piper raised her hands, purple-white flames ready to consume the intruder.

  Hella pulled out her athame, but with so many of her friends in here, she hesitated to wield it.

  ‘It’s always exciting being here,’ Harrow said, tucking his hands in his pockets.

  The door gave way to half a dozen armed soldiers dressed in full riot gear, complete with faceguards and guns. They pushed Lola up against a wall and handcuffed her as she protested. One of the guards peered down at Hella. ‘You have caused more than your share of trouble, witch, but we’ve been ordered to leave you alone. Your friends, however…’ He looked around the room as the other guards pinned down her friends. ‘You cannot be allowed to do magic in public,’ the same guard said. ‘Someone must be punished.’

  The guards handcuffed her. Then they stormed past her, took Piper, who threw her fire at one of them. They wrestled her to the ground, then did the same to Hunter, who looked murderous. Net stood before Harrow bravely, not a single power to his name. He was handcuffed too, with colourful protest—Hella didn’t know an angel could swear like that. Maybe Harrow had taught him.

  Then they went after Harrow.

  Hella could have told them that that was a mistake. ‘Harrow, don’t!’ Hella called, but it was too late. Two of the soldiers were raised off their feet, into the air, their blood being frozen.

  ‘Harrow, stop it!’

  He looked at her. ‘Would you like us to be abducted again? If they can’t take you, they’ll take the others.’

  Hella looked at the lead officer, who slowly removed his helmet. Hella recognised him, and suddenly she wanted his blood frozen. It was Henry from The Force, the man who had held her captive. Behind him, another man removed his own helmet. Had she not been handcuffed, she would have thrown her athame at him. It was Dimitri, a guard at The Force who she might have taken captive and maybe kind of shot out his knee. But she knew that Dimitri had held a grudge. He’d put a bullet in her back, which she thought was hardly a fair trade for a knee injury. Unfortunately, he appeared to be wearing body armour this time.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Hella demanded. She might be handcuffed, but she could still move. She approached them as Harrow began to freeze their blood.

  ‘You do realise that you’re supposed to keep magic a secret, right?’ Dimitri drooled. ‘You just restored this entire building for everyone to see. That breaks the rules.’ He leered at Lola and Hunter. ‘Witches,’ he spat. His eyes found Piper, whose eyes were burning purple-white and took an appropriate step back. He looked to Henry, who looked up at his men, floating in the air, their blood freezing.

  ‘You prove to be the most dangerous,’ Henry ordered. ‘You are coming with us.’

  Dimitri whipped out a gun and pulled it on Harrow. He fired and Harrow was forced to stop using his powers as a bullet dug into the crook of his shoulder. He gasped and stumbled into an armchair.

  ‘Harrow!’ Hella cried out. Henry and Dimitri advanced on her.

  ‘You witches need to keep the magic use to a minimum,’ Dimitri snarled. He looked at Piper. ‘I know who you are,’ he said. He seemed not to want to approach Piper. Then looked at Lola and Hunter. ‘I won’t hesitate to lock you both up and throw away the key if you do anything like that again. Don’t want to leave that little faerie—what’s her name, Tessa?—all alone now, would you?’

  Hella quickly turned, looking for a weapon, a potion, anything that she could get her hands on while still bound by the cuffs. As Dimitri advanced on her (he had been ordered not to take her in, but had he specifically been ordered not to hurt her?) all Hella could do was back up. Until she remembered. She closed her eyes, focused, and then astralled behind him.

  ‘Dimitri,’ Astral-Hella called. He whirled, distracted, then reached out for her, but froze. Like, really, froze solid.

  Harrow had come to her rescue. Something in her heart softened for him.

  ‘Excuse me, but that’s my witch to kill, not yours,’ Harrow said, frowning.

  Seriously? Hella thought, astralling back to herself.

  Harrow froze Dimitri. Then, with a perfect roundhouse kick, he shattered the human into a thousand pieces. Hella screamed, as frozen shards of blood and bone littered the floor. Her eyes wide, she looked up at Harrow. He was calm as ever.

  Henry, on the other hand, took h
is moment of opportunity to take out his gun and shoot Harrow in the stomach. Harrow made a noise that was half-growl, half-whimper and fell to the floor with a thud.

  Hella tried to run to him, but Henry put the gun on her. ‘You, stay,’ he ordered. ‘I’m the one with the gun this time. This Nympha has just murdered one of my own. I’m taking him in. You,’ he added to Hella, ‘better behave yourself.’ The other partially frozen soldiers got unsteadily to their feet, and clamped Harrow in handcuffs.

  ‘Where are you taking him? You know I can break into and out of The Force, don’t you?’ Hella growled, reminding them of her own escape.

  ‘We’re taking him Home,’ Henry said. ‘You won’t get past the Sensus unless the council allows it.’ To his remaining soldiers, he motioned toward the door. ‘Leave the others, for now. Let’s go.’ As the guards hauled Harrow to his feet, he cried out in pain from both bullet wounds. He looked murderous. Again.

  Lola, Hunter and Piper were quiet, but Net spoke. ‘It’s not his fault,’ was all he said to Henry.

  ‘That’s not of concern to me.’ He looked down at the remains of Dimitri. ‘And it certainly won’t be to Dimitri’s wife and daughter.’

  Net blinked, then lowered his gaze as Henry took his leave, Harrow in tow.

  Harrow looked back at Hella one last time. ‘Come visit me?’ he said, the pain clear in his blue eyes. Hella was too startled to answer, so she just stared blankly as the soldiers crunched through the broken wood of the door, out into the night. Hella decided she needed to update her notes on all the times she, or someone she knew, was abducted. Because it seemed to happen a lot, and it made her angry.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tahlia

  Tahlia Terra brushed her chin where Azazel had held her in his claw. Her fingers came away sticky with deep green blood. Standing in the angels’ fighting pit, she watched the demon turn into a black mist and seemingly float away, her mouth open. Demons had never been their problem; they had mostly stayed out of each other’s way. It was angels they used to worry about. Demons had never hunted Cambions much before, except perhaps the odd killing, but that was demon nature.