Bad Blood in Witchwood Read online

  BAD BLOOD IN WITCHWOOD

  A Witchwood Cozy Mystery

  JESSICA LANCASTER

  Copyright © 2019 Jessica Lancaster

  Original text copyright © 2018

  All Rights Reserved

  First published in 2018 under The Enigma on Eden Road

  No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored in any form or by any means without permission of the author. Your respect and support of the author is appreciated.

  All characters, events, brands, companies, and locations in this story are used fictionally and without intent of slander. Any resemblance to actual people are purely coincidental.

  NOTE: Written in British English, utilising the grammar rules of British English. Example; Mr and Mrs - instead of Mr. and Mrs.

  PARANORMAL MYSTERIES

  Witchwood Cozy Mysteries

  Cryptic Curses in Witchwood (Book 1)

  Secret Spells in Witchwood (Book 2)

  Monster Magic in Witchwood (Book 3)

  Reaper Rituals in Witchwood (Book 4)

  Bad Blood in Witchwood (Book 5)

  Wicked Witches in Witchwood (Book 6)

  Cowan Bay Witches Cozy Mysteries

  Muffins, Magic, and Murder (Book 1)

  Cupcakes, Crystals, and Chaos (Book 2)

  Pies, Palmistry, and Poison (Book 3)

  Treats, Tarot, and Trouble (Book 4)

  CO-AUTHORED BOOKS

  With Hugo James King

  Murder on Silver Lake (Book 1)

  Murder on Red Rose Drive (Book 2)

  Murder at Maple House (Book 3)

  Join Jessica’s e-mail list for new releases by signing up!

  BAD BLOOD IN WITCHWOOD

  With monsters descending on Witchwood, Evanora Lavender and Cassandra Hexe are pushed to their limits. In a race to find out what’s bringing creatures out of the woodwork, they might uncover a darker force hiding inside Witchwood.

  Sending out an SOS to the Witches Council, they don’t have long before the town is consumed. What they’re searching for might be closer to home than they expected.

  It’s capture, or be caught.

  A paranormal cozy mystery set in a small English town, featuring an amateur female sleuth and her talking barn owl. Written in British English.

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  A NOTE FROM JESSICA

  NEXT BOOK

  ABOUT JESSICA LANCASTER

  PROLOGUE

  From the tote bag swinging wildly on my arm, I reached inside and grabbed a crystal. In the darkness, there was no way of knowing which one it was. I couldn’t get a read on it, and the surface was smooth; polished and slick. It felt like every other stone.

  “Phil? Ivory? Cassandra?” I called out. I closed my eyes, trying to extend my mind, trying to vibrate through the thick of dirt. “Philp? Ivory? Cassandra?” Still nothing, I tried again, this time holding several stones.

  Reaching into the crystal, I tried calling on its energy, pulling from it.

  Nothing.

  Slamming it against the wall in my fist, the crystal stuck with a thud. I tried pulling the energy once again, and not a single thread of juice came through.

  Slowly, the crystal and my hand were entering the wall. I pushed, trying to dig my hands deeper inside. To get out, I’d have to get through. I pushed with one hand and dug with the other.

  Until I stopped pushing.

  I was being pulled

  Swallowed whole by the dirt wall.

  I grabbed another crystal from my bag. I hit at the wall again, whacking and thumping, trying to chip away at the dirt.

  It didn’t come easy. It didn’t come at all.

  Pulling away from the wall I was being sucked inside, I heaved my weight back, kicking my free leg.

  After five minutes of trying, it stopped altogether.

  A door opened.

  A hand appeared.

  “Phil?” I asked.

  Darkness thumped me over the head.

  ONE

  The TV flickered on, causing a stir of motion. It was the news. I looked to Cassandra. She hadn’t done anything. Someone had to have been watching the house, someone had access.

  “This is Martha Mandel with the evening news. Our top story today, five bodies found in brutal animal attack. Sources can confirm, these killings have been linked. Authorities have called for a town curfew to be placed.”

  I stood, barely taking in what she was saying. Only one thought ran through my mind. “We need to ward the house again,” I said. “Immediately.”

  “How can they keep doing this?” she asked.

  I snapped my fingers and the TV went black. “This is free advertising,” I said. “This is their way of telling people that Witchwood is a buffet, and it’s free to join.”

  “We need to find those bodies,” she said. “Before someone else.”

  “What we need is more witches,” I told her. “The more witches we have, the better chance we have at cutting this thing off at the hind legs before it gets to move further.”

  The front door burst open with a heavy thud.

  Stomp. Stomp.

  “Someone said you were looking for me.”

  A shiver ran through my back, I didn’t know who it was, we’d been looking for so many people, it could have been any number of them coming over.

  A figure stood in the living room doorway, and as my gaze brushed him over, once, twice, three times, already, I didn’t know what to think about the new discovery. The new information coursing through my mind.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  The man tipped his head, pulling his bowler hat away and placing it at his chest. “I’m here because you were looking for me.”

  Cassandra and I stood in the centre of the living room. My fingers trembling, tracing at my collar bones.

  Cassandra scoffed. “You’re the creep that’s been following us.”

  He laughed back, tipping his head. “Not quite. We’ve been on each other’s tails for a couple weeks now.”

  “I—I—I thought you’d be busy, wrapped up in whatever business it is you have with the town,” I said.

  “I’m a watcher,” he said back to me, glancing at Cassandra. “I watch events for the history books.”

  Cassandra scowled, looking at him, trying to sear her eyes into his soul. “So, are you going to tell us what’s coming next?” she asked. “If you know, that is.”

  “I do know, but there’s any number of futures possible at this moment in time,” he continued, toying with his hat in hand. “Unfortunately, I cannot discuss that information with anyone.”

  “Then why did you come here?” I asked.

  “Because someone was looking for me.”

  “We were,” Cassandra said, stiffing her nose into the air. “But we’re not now.”

  He laughed once again. “Not you,” he said. “I’m Ford. I’m here for my brother. Phil.”

  “Phil?” I gasped. “But he’s a—and you’re a—”

  “Yes, yes,” he waved his hand again. “I’m only here because of him—not Witchwood.”

  I took a seat, my hand at my mouth. Phil was a sylph, and I’d assumed his brother
would be as well, of course, he had mentioned he could be a different creature now. But a watcher, wasn’t something on my list.

  “So, what are you then?” Cassandra continued to probe.

  “I’m a reaper,” he grumbled, placing his hat back on his bald head. “I know,” he continued. “A hated job. Nobody wants it, but sometimes, you don’t get a choice, and when that happens, you’ve just got to go with the flow.”

  I stood once again, my legs shaking beneath my weight. “And what about your brother? Why is he looking for you?”

  He laughed once again. “Oh, Phil and I—well—”

  Zap. Phil appeared beside Ford, a menacing scowl on his face.

  Thump. He punched square in the jaw.

  “Why would you come here?”

  Ford wobbled back on his legs, clutching at his jaw with a hand. He squinted in a daze, looking at Phil and then around at the rest of us in the room. “Well—I’ll be—”

  Phil swung his hand, ready for another punch.

  Whoosh. Ford was gone.

  TWO

  Phil took a moment to calm himself, letting out deep guttural growls from the back of his throat. It turned hoarse, almost like he was about to cry. He sobbed slightly, his chest bobbing as he turned into a corner.

  “I’ll make some tea,” Cassandra said.

  As Cassandra left the room, I approached Phil from behind, planting a hand on his shoulder. I wrapped my second hand around his torso and squeezed him into a hug. I didn’t know why Phil and his brother weren’t friends anymore, and I didn’t know what had happened all those years ago, years before I had even met him.

  We hugged until Cassandra arrived with a metal tray full of cups and a steaming pot of tea.

  “Oh,” she grumbled at the sight of us in the corner.

  There was nothing but an embrace of kindness on my behalf. I didn’t know what was going on inside Phil’s mind, I could never get a read on him, even before he arrived in my life for the umpteenth time.

  “It’s okay,” I said, letting go. “We should all have a chat. It’s been an incredibly long day.”

  “And I fear it’s only going to get longer,” Phil grumbled.

  “I agree,” Cassandra said, snapping a finger. “So, let’s get to the juicy stuff first.”

  We took seats, Phil naturally taking the chair he’d once been bound to with a little witch thread. It was high time we cleaned the air and got to the bottom of whatever was going on with Phil.

  “I’ve never told anyone this before,” Phil said, taking a sip of tea. “And I mean, I’ve never told a single soul about this. Perhaps I’ve told some dead souls along the way, and some of them while I was in that hell, but I’ve never told anyone.”

  I took a long slurp of the tea. “Spit it out.”

  “When he was eighteen and I was sixteen, Ford killed our parents,” he began. “Ford was always looking to get stronger as a child, and one way to gain power he found was to kill. He killed our parents and absorbed their power. He had tried killing me, but my powers weren’t kicking in until I was eighteen, like his.”

  “Interesting,” I grumbled, I snapped my fingers and my book of shadows appeared on the arm of the chair. “Continue. This will just be for the facts.”

  “Once I did turn eighteen, Ford was nowhere to be found.”

  “And when did you meet Nora?” Cassandra asked.

  “Fifteen years later.”

  “Wait—so you’re—how old?” she grumbled, trying to calculate.

  I grabbed at her leg. “None of your business,” I said. “Supernatural beings age differently.”

  “So, I’m not a creature, or a monster now,” he chuckled. “I’m a supernatural being.”

  Rolling my eyes at the comment, I didn’t have the time to argue with him about the language I used, and besides, most of them were monsters, and creatures of night, supernatural beings was a term I reserved for those who were a little more complex rather than the eat, kill, turn, and repeat – those of fewer needs and a more irrational motive.

  “Anyway,” Phil continued. “Now, it looks like he’s a reaper, and I guess I can’t be surprised, after everything he did, it must have come back to hit him hard.”

  “How’d you know he was—” I began.

  “I was listening for a moment.”

  “So, you’re both prisoners now,” Cassandra added. “Him to whatever darkness he was dealt in death, and you to the witches.”

  “Reapers are neutral,” I said. “Not good, and not bad.”

  Phil nodded. “Nobody sees a reaper unless they want to be seen,” he said. “How long have you been seeing him for?”

  “Since—”

  “Since that boy on Mercy Avenue,” Cassandra jumped in.

  A screech came through the halls. “Evanora! Evanora!”

  “What?” I asked, jumping from my seat, holding my tea steady.

  Ivory appeared with ruffled feathers and Jinx joined her.

  “They’re closing the gates,” they both said at the same time.

  “Who?”

  Phil sighed. “I was gonna say.”

  “What’s he doing here?” Ivory continued.

  “Everyone, quiet!” I commanded, taking my seat and placing my tea on the coffee table. “Ivory, tell me what gates are closing.”

  “The Witches Council are closing their gates.”

  “They’re doing what?” Cass gasped. “No, they can’t be.”

  Rolling a hand through the back of his head, Phil smiled. “I was coming back to say. It was just decided.”

  “Well, I have friends everywhere,” Ivory added. “And they don’t keep secrets.”

  “It’s not a secret,” Philip grumbled. “I was getting to it.”

  Stomping her talons into the carpet, Ivory hissed slightly. “Get on with it then.”

  The last time the Witches Council closed their gates was when a worldwide warning was sent out Xandra trying to steal from the Royal Mint, but before then, it was the energy beacon powered up in Durham.

  “They’re closing their gates because of the situation here,” he said. “In Witchwood.”

  “What situa—” Cass began.

  “We still have a lot of work to do.”

  “And they’ve ignored your request for more witches,” he said. “I passed it along to them, but they didn’t want to listen. I think they’ve given up. I heard the High Witch isn’t doing too well either.”

  “Given up? Given up! Not in all my years have they given up.” It was a lie, they gave up often and frequently, but it wasn’t like I’d ever been majorly affected by it in the past, back when I was a young witch who could get whatever she wanted from the Council.

  “But they’ve invited Cassandra,” he said. “As you no longer work for them, Nor—”

  “Excuse me!” I shouted, back on my feet, stopping a foot. “I’m training Cassandra, of course I work for them.”

  “They give you pocket money,” he said. “But you’re not employed by them anymore. You retired. This is your retirement.”

  “My retirement isn’t going to be spent fighting off a bunch of creatures because the Council were too bone idle to give anyone a second thought and help supply them for the incoming war about to begin.”

  “There’s nothing I could have said or done to them to change their minds.”

  He was right, after all, he was a prisoner to them.

  “I’m not going,” Cass said. “There’s still so much happening here.”

  “Good,” I said. “But, you—”

  “No,” she said with a nod in my direction. “I’m not going. We can fight this together. Prove to all those witches I’m here to do the job and not leave at the first sign of something bad.”

  I held a hand to high five her. “That’s just what they need,” I said. “More people like you.” Or, perhaps more people with her energy and spirit, not-so about having more privileged witches in the midst.

  Letting out a deep sigh, Phil
shook his head. “Then this is where I leave you both,” he said. “I can’t help you anymore.”

  Zap. He was gone as well.

  THREE

  All we needed now was a moment to be free with our thoughts, to think of a plan of action. We needed to sit down with more tea, preferably cranberry and mint, alongside a notebook to write everything we knew about the energy beacon so far, and all the people it had claimed from Witchwood.

  Unfortunately, we weren’t that blessed.

  It was late in the evening, and dark outside.

  A knock came at the door, moments after Phil left.

  Ivory and Jinx skittered off.

  “Greg?” Cassandra asked with a roll of her eyes.

  It was possibly only him that would knock at such an hour. “Do you think all of this is affecting him as well?”

  She shrugged.

  I hadn’t noticed any people of the last place, mainly because I was too focused on getting through to the centre of the energy warp we’d been wrapped in, and the people of the surrounding towns weren’t on my checklist.

  “Greg,” I said, seeing his face as I answered the door. His face was screwed with a large frown carved into his forehead. He wasn’t happy about whatever he’d been going through. “Come on in.”

  There was one thing that could never have been said for me and that was, I was a bad host. I was an amazing host to the people around me and that didn’t stop whenever I got busy, unless I was otherwise indisposed of.

  “Can you believe that halfwit of a neighbour?” he grumbled.

  “Which one this time?” I asked.

  He hacked at the back of his throat, the sound between a laugh and a cough. “Mick,” he said. “Always him. Nothing but trouble. I swear.”

  “Trouble?” Cassandra called from the living room. “I’ve heard enough about trouble.”

  “Can you smell it too?” he asked, walking into the living room. “I swear the town has its blinkers on since all this has happened.”