Witch War in Westerham

  Witch War in Westerham

  Paranormal Investigation Bureau Book 14

  Dionne Lister

  Dionne Lister

  Copyright © 2020 by Dionne Lister

  IBSN 978-1-922407-04-7

  Smashwords edition

  Cover art by Robert Baird

  Content Editing by Hot Tree Editing

  Proofreading Hot Tree Editing

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or school assignment.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  For those we love who were gone too soon. We will never forget you.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Afterword

  Acknowledgements

  Also by Dionne Lister

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “Argh! You’re blinding me!” Imani threw her forearm up to protect her eyes. “Be careful where you angle that thing.”

  Liv laughed, and I grinned as we walked home after enjoying brunch at Costa. “Ha ha. Very funny.” I splayed my hand and admired my dazzling engagement ring. “Anyway, I can hardly be proficient with managing it—I’ve only had it a week. Surely wearing bling like this should come with a grace period?” I see-sawed my hand side to side. Such pretty twinkles. Who knew light refraction could be so enthralling. “It could probably do some damage if I punched someone in the face.”

  Liv nodded. “It could definitely take out an eye.”

  Imani had removed her arm from her face, but she jokingly side-eyed the ring, pretending to fear its brilliance. “Shiny and practical—my favourite combination.”

  “When are you setting a date?” Liv asked.

  “I have no idea. We’re going to talk about it after we sort out the DD thing.” DD stood for Dana’s Dad. Rather than anyone knowing what we were talking about, we’d given him that nickname.

  “Wow, love. That could take a while. We still have interviews to get through.” Imani was talking about the captives we’d found in the basement of DD’s factory. There was so much to record that they’d had to have days with just one victim to ask what they needed. It was definitely a huge mess. At least we’d gotten this far. It had been the biggest break through so far to finding out what happened to my parents. But I didn’t want to bring that up here, and I was pretty sure neither did my friends.

  I shrugged. “Whatever. It’s fine. The fact that he loves me and asked is enough. It’s not like I’m in a hurry to have kids or anything.”

  “Why not?” Liv asked. “You’d make such gorgeous babies.”

  I chuckled. “That’s not a good reason to have kids, Liv. Ask me when I’ve travelled the whole of Europe and run out of things to do. I haven’t got time to have kids right now… or for the next few years.”

  “Party pooper. I can’t believe you’re going to wait so long. I thought it would be cool if we had them at the same time. It would be amazing if our kids could grow up together.”

  My eyes widened. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  She snorted. “No! But, you know, I’m hoping it will happen in the next two or three years.” She lowered her voice. “We’ve been talking about it.”

  “What about marriage?” Not that it mattered, but it was the natural thing to ask.

  She shrugged. “I’m not that fussed, to be honest. After going through that whole engagement thing and the aftermath, it’s kind of lost its appeal. I mean, if B asked, I’d say yes, of course, but it’s not a priority. We’ve been living together for a while now, and it’s the best thing in the world. I don’t want anything to change—it’s perfect just the way it is.”

  Imani raised one eyebrow. “And you think nothing will change when you have kids? Is that what you’re telling us?” Liv opened her mouth to answer, but Imani’s phone rang, cutting her off. “Sorry, love.” She slid it out of her pocket. “Hello, Agent Jawara speaking.” She listened for a minute. “Yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Bye.” She looked at me. “That was your brother. He’s called us in.”

  “Me too?”

  “Yes.” Her tone held enough gravity that Liv and I both knew what she meant—I was wanted for my talent. While it paid well, I was tired of being in the thick of crime scenes. There were some things I just didn’t want to see.

  I sighed. “Okay. What is it?”

  We’d reached Angelica’s. Imani kept her own counsel until we went inside. As we stood in the hallway outside the living room, she made a bubble of silence. “It’s a murder scene—two of the slaves we haven’t interviewed yet.”

  Liv sucked in a breath. “How did that happen? Aren’t they living in PIB housing under agent protection?”

  “Yes.”

  Yikes. That was scary and bad news. “Do you think they had information that could do lots of damage or is it a warning to the other slaves?”

  She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Either or, neither nor. Who knows? The point is, we need to get to the bottom of it. Anyway, love, put your uniform on and grab your camera. We’ll travel to headquarters and go with Will from there. It’s safer.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Now we were closing in on RP, they were bound to become even bolder than they had been, and I’d almost been killed a few times. And, yes, we’d just been for a walk, but we’d had our return to senders on, plus Imani was with me, and James had organised for two other agents to tail us. If I’d thought things were serious before, I’d really had no idea.

  Liv looked at Imani. “Do you think there are still rogue agents helping RP?”

  Imani’s grim expression said it all. “We all need to be extra careful. Keep your ears and eyes open, Liv. At the end of the day, when you go home, make a list of all the research Chad’s assistant asks you to do. Maybe have lunch with her whenever you can, have a chat, if you know what I mean.”

  “Okay. Will do.”

  “Oh, and get B to protect your thoughts with a spell each morning. We’re at the pointy end of things. Their guys or gals on the inside will take more risks now we’re closing in on them.”

  “Okay, Imani.”

  While they talked, I magicked my uniform on, as well as a black coat—whilst it had been sunny, it was still only fifteen degrees. And for my final trick, I conjured my camera from my bedside table. “Ready.” I looked at Liv. “You coming with?”

  “Yeah, might as well. I’ll grab a lift home with B later. There’s some paperwork I have to finish for James anyway.”

  I made my doorway, and Imani made hers. I ushered Liv through mine. As I reluctantly stepped through after her, I shuddered. Murder scenes were my least-favourite place to be, and we had no idea what we were going to find. Would it be bloody, gory, stinky? Please
don’t be horrible. My stomach would be in knots until we arrived. Just breathe, Lily. Just breathe.

  If only I had better advice to calm myself… because I was going to need it.

  Chapter 2

  The silence on the drive from the PIB to the crime scene was unnerving. Even the luxury and comfort of Will’s Range Rover weren’t enough to dampen the tightly wound atmosphere. If Will and Imani were preoccupied, this wasn’t at all good. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen so much before. By the time we stood outside the second-floor apartment, my stomach wasn’t so much in knots as it had already strangled itself and died. I rubbed it. Nope, that didn’t help at all.

  Will put his hand on my back. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” No. There was no use worrying Will with my stress. He had enough to deal with. Truth be told, I partly blamed myself for all this. I knew, of course, that it wasn’t my fault that RP were evil slave masters, but if it hadn’t been for me trying to find out what had happened to my parents, we never would’ve stumbled across these people. And even though being enslaved was horrific, at least they’d been alive. And what did it mean for our investigation? Had we driven RP further underground?

  Will showed his ID to the policeman guarding the door. He pointed to three boxes sitting on the floor to the side. “Put those on first, and when you go in, don’t touch anything.”

  We went to the boxes and grabbed gloves, plastic shoe coverings, and hairnets. It wasn’t the full protective gear, but I supposed it would stop us contaminating things as long as we didn’t poke into every nook and cranny. Once we’d donned our gear, the policeman lifted the police tape back and let us through. I hadn’t had to deal with this before. Every time we went to a crime scene, the PIB were running things. Using spells to gather information was much more thorough and less likely to contaminate things. Maybe PIB crime-scene investigators had special spells to stop any contamination from happening too. I wondered if the PIB had used one here anyway, but they just couldn’t tell the police.

  Once we were inside, one of my stomach knots came undone. There was nothing in the living area I didn’t want to see… at least not yet. I whispered to Will, “Why are the p involved?” I was pretty sure he’d know what I meant by p.

  “A neighbour called them because they’d heard screaming. Whoever did this forgot or didn’t care to make it quiet. We didn’t get the call till after the police had attended.” And even then, the PIB were here as a government agency—most of the police just didn’t know they were magical.

  “So why’d they bring you guys in?” Unless they knew magic had been involved, the PIB police implants wouldn’t have known to call them.

  “They have a list of our safe houses, and they knew about the warehouse slaves. We’ve tried to keep them out of it mostly, but we can’t hide everything. As far as they’re concerned, we’re dealing with the case, but they’re backing us up if needed… like now.”

  “Fair enough.”

  An agent—a dark-skinned guy in his thirties sporting a shaved head—appeared from a hallway just off the living area. He gave Will and Imani a nod. “Agents Blakesley, Jawara. Come this way.” They strode after him, and I followed, feeling like a forgotten puppy. This tagging-along thing wasn’t good for my ego. At a photography job, everyone looked to me as the authority… well, as long as it wasn’t a wedding with a bridezilla or despotic mother of the bride.

  I didn’t follow them the whole way, just in case it was gory. If I was lucky, they’d magicked all the evidence to headquarters and cleaned everything. This was hopefully a site visit to show Will and Imani where everything had been and to check out the apartment to reference back to the evidence later.

  Quiet talking came from the room they’d gone into—I assumed a bedroom. After a couple of minutes, the dark-skinned agent came out and walked past me without so much as a hello. Then Will poked his head out of the door. “You can come in, Lily. It’s not too bad. They’ve taken the bodies away.”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath and went to the door. I’ll admit my grip on the camera hanging around my neck made my hand ache. I forced my fingers to relax. Will moved further into the room, out of my way. Stepping inside, I gasped. The bodies were, indeed, gone, but the blood spatters weren’t. Nausea clawed up my throat, and I slammed a hand over my mouth. After swallowing, I dropped my hand, the metallic scent in the room unmistakable. “What the actual hell? This is not, ‘not too bad.’ What are you? Nuts?”

  “Sorry, love. We forget you’re not a hardened agent. But it’s not like you haven’t seen worse.” Imani’s words were sort of sympathetic, but her tone was all business.

  “Normally it’s through my camera. I don’t think I’ve seen this much blood in person before.”

  “Pretend it’s paint,” Will suggested.

  I gave him a deadpan look. “You can’t take the facts back. It’s too late. Can we just get this over and done with? How long have I got?”

  “As long as you need. Imani and I have a few things to do here, and since you’re taking our photos, you’re free to do that. Just take as many as you can.” His voice sounded in my head, and I jumped. Take some real shots, too, just so we have something to show from that; otherwise people will get suspicious. “There was a photographer on scene earlier this morning when the bodies were here. You’re going to make sure they didn’t miss anything.”

  “Right. I can do that.” Next time you’re going to just jump into my head, a bit of warning would be polite.

  He smiled. We’ll figure it out later. “Time to get to work. Just so you know, both victims were non-witches, and we haven’t found a magic signature, so it might have all been done the normal way. The bodies showed signs of having been tortured. Just a warning.” Sorry, Lily. I really am. You know we wouldn’t ask unless it was vital.

  Yeah, I know. And this is all because of me anyway. I need to help figure it out. Don’t worry; I’ll deal.

  It’s not your fault, but we’ll talk about that later. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can go home.

  I nodded, fear scrabbling inside my belly. The photos I was about to take were probably going to be the worst I’d ever seen. Will was right though—getting it over and done with was the best idea.

  The other thing I couldn’t ignore—Will never spoke in my head, at least not unless it was the utmost emergency. We didn’t want any of our enemies to know, and we weren’t sure if they could pick up on it. Only some witches had the talent of being able to do this, and neither of us did—only when it came to talking to each other. It had saved me from the vampire witch—without Will’s voice in my head, I would’ve given up. I’d have to talk to him about it later. Why was he risking it now?

  “Love, come on. You’ve got work to do.” Imani was staring at me, her head cocked to one side.

  “Ah, yeah, sorry. Just thinking about what I need to do.”

  Her raised brow pretty much said, “Yeah, right.”

  I shrugged, lifted my camera, and gave her a sarcastic smile. I took off the lens cap and turned the camera on. “See. Working.”

  She rolled her eyes, but at least she turned and drew her magic. Whatever she needed to do was happening, and I was pretty much forgotten about. Phew. Or maybe not phew. I had to ask what had happened, and I didn’t want to see it. Would my magic work if I didn’t look at the screen? I was pretty sure I didn’t want to see what had happened here to cause the mess.

  I took a deep breath, coughed because of the smell, and drew my magic. “Show me….” Show me what? What did I need to ask for first? While I debated with myself, I clicked off a few shots of the room as it was. The blood, the messed-up bed, the window, and the fact it was closed. Come on, scaredy-cat. Yeah, yeah. Sometimes, I wished my inner voice would just be quiet. It wasn’t helping.

  “Show me the victims just before the killer came.” The room darkened as the naked bulb became the only light source. Beyond the window was blackness. The bed was made, and a young man with curl
y brown hair sat on it, reading. I clicked off a shot and zoomed into the book cover and clicked. I couldn’t understand the French title, but the spaceship against the black of deep space on the cover looked like science fiction.

  I lowered the camera. Only one victim was in here originally. Had the other been killed in the second bedroom? I’d worry about that later. Let’s get this done. “Show me the moment the killer entered the room.”

  The victim stood in the middle of the room, arm dangling at his side, book forgotten in his hand. Click. The window was open, and a man was climbing in. He wore a black jumper, black beanie, and black gloves. His large, round face was muscle and fat, two black, beady eyes staring from it. Click. Why hadn’t the victim run? Maybe he was in shock from someone climbing in his window?

  “Show me the victim as soon as the other guy is fully in the room.” The victim wasn’t visible from where I was, but I took a photo of the murderer standing next to the bed. He was six foot four or five and built like a brick outhouse. He was looking straight at me, so I must be standing where the victim was. I shivered. The fear his stare and size elicited was palpable even in photo form. I couldn’t tell whether he was a witch or not, though. Add magic to the mix, and this guy would be a formidable enemy. I hoped I never had to face him in real life.

  I swallowed the lump of fear lodged in my throat as I walked closer to the man. Then I turned around. The victim’s back was to me as he ran through the doorway. Ah, so he finally unfroze. My hope at this turn of events was squashed as soon as my logic reminded me that he’d been killed.