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“Gemma?”
My mother’s voice was quiet, the music bursting through my earbuds drowning her out. She’d called me an hour before and requested that I join her. She had given me the details of where she was, refusing to tell me why she wanted me there.
Jemima Abbott had married my father when they were young, the union arranged by the ancestors. She had been pleased with her man, but it hadn’t lasted. Not long after I was born, he got involved with warlocks. Being an Essex witch, he had access to the ley line, but he took it for granted. He was killed by a warlock when he refused to give them a hit of his magic. I never regretted not knowing him.
“Please,” she said, taking hold of one of my earbuds and tugging it out of my ear. “Can you be polite and turn your music off? What rubbish are you listening to anyway?”
Clearing my throat to avoid answering her question with a sly immature quip, I did as she said. My gaze traced her dark, almost black hair. Her mother had been the senseless Essex witch who’d kidnapped and drained witches of their magic. My cousin Devon from the Hunted Witch Agency had taken our grandmother down, but it had left a bitter taste in my mother’s mouth. She hadn’t spoken to her sister for a long time. When she’d married a warlock, my aunt Julia Jinx had basically been disowned. My mother couldn’t support her, considering her role in Paranormal MI5, so they’d agreed to keep their distance. My mother hadn’t been very supportive when I’d run into my cousin for the first time, but I didn’t care. Our jobs meant that we would cross paths every now and again. I didn’t hold a grudge, that wasn’t my style.
“What have we got?” I asked my mum as I tucked my earbuds away.
She didn’t appreciate the rock music I listened to. I was a person of eclectic tastes. Sometimes I fancied some hip hop, other times heavy metal just hit the right spot. No wonder my mother was confused by me.
The police tape across the station entryway made it clear that something was going on. Had a paranormal person revealed themselves? My mother rarely came out of the MI5 building, so it had to be something serious.
“Gemma...” Waving a hand in front of me, my mother forced me to look at her. “...you seem distant. Is everything okay?”
After switching off my emotions the day before, I’d gone in search of Dave. I hadn’t told him what had happened with the masked man, so he didn’t argue when I said that we needed to get into work. The case was important. I couldn’t worry about the man until he made contact. And, he would. Not many witches made threats without following through.
“I’m fine, just had a late night.”
My mother glanced down at my T-shirt, blinking as she shook her head. As her mouth opened, I knew that she’d read it. It gave me a thrill to see the disapproval on her pristine face. The T-shirt read: You’ve read my T-shirt. That’s enough socialisation for one day.
“Really, Gemma? Is that appropriate for work?”
My mother and I had the type of relationship that meant when she judged me, I rebelled. Her old fashioned views meant that her beliefs were rigid. Not only had she assigned me to Dave because he was technically an Essex witch, although from a very different line to mine, she had insisted that I prepare myself for my engagement.
“Mother, I’m here to work. Please, tell me what’s going on in the train station?”
Grabbing my arm as Logan Hill, the police detective, came out of the building, she squeezed hard. “It’s almost time. If you put it off any longer, I’m going to find him without you.”
Trying my best not to rip her hand off, just for the sheer cheek of manhandling me, I moved to stare directly into her eyes. She was shorter than me, her small frame coming from her mother’s side. Even Devon was petite like them. I had inherited some of my father’s height, which was a positive thing in this exact moment.
“I’ve told you. I’m not marrying some man that dad made a deal with!”
Her stance was defiant, her power radiating through the glare that held my own. She wouldn’t back down. She had some superstitious fear that my father’s gambling debt would come back to haunt us. Before he’d died, he’d promised me as a wife to some witch’s son. He had lost the bet, and not long after, he’d been killed.
“It’s not the man he made a deal with, it’s his son!” she hissed.
Logan approached, which gave me the opportunity to break away from her. She retreated, going over to her driver and indicating that he take her back to the building. We often had these exchanges. She would show her face to prove to the police that those high up were taking note. It was just a face they put on it. I was the one who did the hard work.
“What was that about?” Dave said in my ear.
Oh crap, how had I forgotten he was there, again? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to be able to remember that he was my eyes and ears too.
“Next time,” I whispered into the mic attached to my T-shirt. “Remind me that you’re connected when my mum’s around. I’m embarrassed that you heard that.”
“Gemma,” Logan greeted, offering his hand.
Shaking it, I nodded a hello. He sighed as he scratched his thin chin. “We should probably go straight in.”
The detective was grim, which was unlike him. His professional manner was usually stoic, yes, but today, his energy was heavy. Which meant that whatever was inside the station had got to his emotions. That didn’t bode well.
“Incoming,” Dave said as a motorcycle pulled up near us.
Kate and Jake both waved before they climbed off. The seer had her helmet off before Jake even had a chance to put the stand on the bike.
“We came as soon as you called,” she said, fluffing her tight curls as she joined us.
We moved as a unit, Jake catching up as soon as his bike was safe. He’d asked me if I could put a protection spell on it as soon as we’d started working together. Of course, I’d agreed. Anything to try and make my team comfortable.
“What are we looking at?” Jake asked, his nose flaring suddenly. “Blood.”
The last word was muttered under his breath, but I heard him. So did Kate. Her gaze shot to him, her brown eyes widening.
“We have a female again.” Indicating that we go under the police tape, Logan cringed when we all came into the building.
What was making him so affected?
“What the hell?” Kate muttered.
My eyes landed on what they were staring at. The station was an old fashioned one on the outskirts of London. It had several waiting rooms, one of which was near the ticket booth. Several forensic agents were gathered around a bed. Yes, a bed. There was a woman on the bed who looked very similar to the first one.
Going closer, I put my hand to my chest. The bed was the exact replica of the bed from the first murder. The woman was lying the same way, her head bent to the side. Blood was splattered up the back of the waiting room wall, which meant-
“She was alive when he brought her here,” Logan said. “But there’s no signs of a struggle. So, either she trusted him, or he had some other means of getting her here.”
Stepping forward, Kate closed her eyes. Her powers as a seer were valuable, but she hadn’t been able to decipher anything from her last vision. It had been far too hazy.
“This is the same as the bedroom,” Jake said as he came over, holding an empty wand in his gloved hand.
Sighing, Logan rubbed a hand over his face. “Yes, there’s a grimoire, too. The signs all point to one thing.”
“Serial killer,” Dave muttered at the same time I did.
Logan and Jake glanced at one another before looking at me. Their shared expression was one of concern. I didn’t blame them. The public had a field day with serial killers, and so did the government. Especially if it was a paranormal carrying out the attacks. Although Logan was a human, he knew the consequences of what could happen to us if we didn’t catch our killer before the news got out.
“Who rang this in? Did staff find it before passengers arrived?”
“So, that’s why your mother was there,” Dave said. “The report of a possible serial killer would instantly get the head of the agency’s attention.”
Consulting his pad, Logan read a line or two before replying. “Yes, the station manager was the first to ring it in. This building isn’t open all night, which is handy for our suspect.”
“I’ll do a search on the station manager, just to rule him out.” Dave didn’t even have to wait for me to ask, he knew the drill.
“Thanks,” I muttered to him, smiling at Logan when he nodded.
Kate suddenly gasped, her eyes flying open. Her gaze shot to the body before she strode over, almost knocking over a female forensics officer.
Looking over to us, she pointed down at the bed. “Here. His energy is here again.”
“You’ve both said he,” I said as we went over. “What makes you think our perp is male?”
A shiver sent tingles up my spine as I got closer to the bed. That energy, I recognised it, but from where?
“I saw a man in my first vision.” Kate allowed Jake to take photos of the area of the bed she’d pointed out. It looked normal to the naked eye, but I could feel the magic as much as Kate could.
Logan pointed at the bullet wound in the woman’s chest. “Not only that, it looks like he’s specifically going for the heart. In my experience, people who are emotionally distant aim for the head. Those that have emotional ties to the killing will shoot through the heart.”
“Now, that’s an impressive analysis,” Dave muttered in my ear. “Nothing fishy coming up for the station manager. Normal human.”
“This is the same magic that was on the previous bed. We never got a DNA match on that, did we, Dave?”
Logan knew I had a desk friend, so he didn’t bat an eyelid when I spoke to myself. Instead, he turned to Jake and discussed the same splatter pattern as the blood.
“No, my book freak.” Dave chuckled to himself. “There’s no magical DNA that matches our suspects in the database. I farmed it out to all the top agencies and not one of them recognise it. Which means we have a powerful dude on our hands.”
“Firstly,” I started as I stared at the wall. “I’m not your book freak. I’m just a regular book freak. Secondly, can you-?”
“Wait!” he said into my ear, his voice going tense. “Go closer to the wall. No-” he interrupted as I put my foot forward. “...go to the end of the bed, let me look at the wall head on.”
Frowning, I did as he said. He’d obviously seen something that I hadn’t. He had a habit of being able to see the small patterns that most eyes would miss. It was a shame he wasn’t an agent in the field, he would’ve been even more valuable.
“Would you look at that?” he whispered.
Tilting my head to the side, I tried to see what he did. “What am I looking at?”
His breath sounded in my ear as his excitement built. “The blood splatter. It’s... wait, I’ll send it across otherwise you’ll never see it. Your brain isn’t capable.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed, quite frankly offended. “I’ll have you know that my brain is supersonic awesomeness.”
“Yes.” He sighed. “Full of stories.”
If my phone hadn’t bleeped with his picture, I would’ve come up with a really good comeback, but as soon as the photo loaded on the screen in front of me, I swallowed hard, all banter forgotten.
“Shit,” I muttered, staring at the lines that Dave had drawn with his digital skills. “That’s...”
I couldn’t quite force the words out. The image of an Essex witch coat of arms was obvious now that Dave had pointed it out. How had the perp manipulated the blood so that the picture was formed when the woman was shot?
“Dave...”
“I’m loading the photo from the first scene. Yep, it has the same thing. Sending it now.”
Almost the exact same photo came through on my phone, except for the location of the victims. Chills caused my muscles to shake as I stared. The coat of arms was ingrained on my mind. Any line of Essex witches were entitled to use the arms, even though the blood lines were pretty diluted. We’d had to move with modern times, considering how wrong it was to marry into the family. Essex witches had been extremely procreative so that our lines could become distant enough not to be affected by defects.
“This is probably the work of PFF. They’re dead set on bringing the Essex line down. As you know. Both you and I must be on their hit list.”
Although Dave’s words were soft, my chest squeezed. We were targets. My mother had trained me to fight so that I could stick up for my heritage. But, what was I really fighting for? At this moment in time, it was survival. Essex witches had been the royalty of witches for millennia. It wasn’t a surprise that others had become weary of their power.
“We have no proof that it’s them,” I said, my gaze finally lifting from the screen.
“Gemma,” Dave said quietly. “Don’t move yet.”
“What?”
The others were discussing what Kate had seen. They were talking in my direction, but not requiring my participation.
“Someone’s watching you from the train track. I can just see the top of their head as they’re looking over the edge of the platform.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled against my T-shirt. Whoever was there was obviously trying not to be seen, which meant that he wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Who is it?” I whispered as I glanced back down at my phone.
“No idea, I can’t get a good visual. You’re going to have to go for him.”
Tracing the floor with my gaze, I rose it slightly, trying to catch the top of the person’s head so I could get an idea of where they were.
“Okay,” I said quietly. “I’m going to pretend to go over to the others as I tuck my phone away.”
When I saw the tiny strand of blonde hair, I turned my head to look at my team. They were analysing the blood splatter more closely. A part of me wondered if I should tell them about what Dave had found.
Dave’s hummed affirmative made me focus. He knew my style, knew my moves. “Remember what Kate taught you about breathing. You have a habit of holding your breath when you run.”
Taking two steps towards my team, I put my phone in my pocket before changing directions. My boots slammed against the concrete as I exited the waiting area onto the platform. The flash of hair darted down the rail tracks. My feet rebounded off the edge of the platform as I used it to propel me into the air.
“Don’t forget to bend your knees,” Dave said.
Landing in a crouch on a wooden rung between the train lines, I winced as my knees took the impact. The bastard was ridiculously fast as he legged it down the centre of the track I was on. I recognised his back straight away.
“It’s Peter Mason,” I gasped as I went after him.
Wind picked up my ponytail, making it fly back. The crunch of stones under my soles echoed as my breath rushed in and out of my lungs.
“Oh, now that’s an interesting development. One that certainly links the crimes to PFF.” Dave’s voice was tight as he spoke. “Err... I hate to interrupt your perfectly adequate efforts, but a train is due to come through the station in about three minutes, so you might want to wrap this up. Now.”
If my heart could explode out of my chest, it would’ve. Dave could’ve had the decency to notify me about the train before I’d jumped onto the tracks. Bloody desk friend.
“I mean, it’s not such a big deal,” he muttered as the electric tracks on either side of me started to hum.
The line bent to the left, making it hard for us to see the oncoming train. If I didn’t capture Peter now, it would be a wasted opportunity. Plus, the bastard had shot me. Killed me, even. It was time I made him pay. I’d have to sneak into his prison cell to hand him a personal punishment. Eww... that thought was a bit odd. Especially as we were potentially running towards a fucking train. If he didn’t get off the track before it came, he would be mincemeat himself. Meaning I got no one-on-one punishment time at all. I couldn’t let that happen.
“You should probably use that ley line,” Dave said casually. “I don’t really want to watch the moment of impact.”
“Bastard.” My words were muttered on a breath as I linked into the ley line.
The power didn’t surge into me like it used to. Shit, the link was getting weaker. Was that because I was dead? Or because someone else was tampering with it?
“I mean it. He’ll get hit first, which means tons of yuckiness. Then, you’ll be a goner, too. I don’t think I can handle it today.”
“Feeling fragile?” I muttered.
His response was drowned out as I whispered an earth spell. The ground below us shook as roots dislodged and shot up just before Peter. They wrapped around his legs, forcing his momentum to halt. He fell forward, his face a couple of inches from the live electric line.
“Nice!” Dave exclaimed in my ear. “Shit, oncoming train. You’ve got ninety seconds.”
The muscles in my legs screamed as I pushed them a few more yards. Peter was squirming against his bonds, his face bright red from exertion.
“The roots,” Dave said in my ear as I dragged my dagger out from my holster. “They’ve dislodged some of the track. You need to stop that train.”
Fuck! I hadn’t even thought about that. My spell had caused the line to shift upwards.
Bending down to my captive, I cut the roots from the ground but left his legs bound.
“You bitch!”
His shout was ignored as I looked around for something to tie his hands. Bloody hell, where were my handcuffs?
“Gem!” Jake was beside me, handing me his cuffs.
“Get him out of here,” I told him once I’d secured his wrists behind his back. “I’ve got to stop that train!”
The vehicle thundered around the corner, heading straight for us. It was a good job Jake was a wolf shifter. His speedy flash took them off into the hedge at the side of the track before I could blink.
Planting my feet firmly on the track in front of the damaged area, I tried to stop the shaking of my hand as the horn blared. The soles of my feet vibrated as the squeak of brakes shrilled through my head.
Ignoring the high pitched noise that blasted through my ears, I held up my hands as I dragged as much power from the ley line as possible. The barrier spell flew up in front of me, invisible to anyone but me. I could see the shimmer of the pure magic that flickered, creating a wall. The impact would hopefully not jerk the train too hard, although it wasn’t guaranteed.
“Help engage the brakes,” Dave said sharply.
Closing my eyes, I pictured the locking mechanisms on the train’s wheels. The screech grew louder as I cast a spell to lock them on completely.
“Now move!” Dave was insistent. “Just in case.”
The train was slowing, the front of it coming closer but at a much reduced speed. My heartbeat sped up and, for a split second, I was mesmerised by the sheer force of the thing that could flatten me in a moment. What would happen to me? My body was technically dead. Or, that’s what I thought, anyway.
“Move!”
My legs automatically launched me to the side of the track. The skin on my arm grazed against the small stones before I rolled onto the grass bank.
“Shit!” Dave hissed in my ear as the train screeched to a halt two seconds after I’d crash landed.
Opening my eyes, I stared. The front end of the carriage was resting against my barrier wall. If I hadn’t have moved, I would’ve been safe, but it hadn’t been worth the risk. Even I valued my life more than testing my magic.
A hand wrapped around my forearm and lugged me to my feet. Jake’s bright eyes were narrowed on me, checking me over for injuries. His nostrils flared when his eyes landed on my arm. It was scratched up from the stones, small cuts swelling with a touch of blood.
“Let’s go,” he muttered, ignoring Peter, who was still struggling to get away.
As if the witch was going to be able to break free from a wolf. He was a fool to think he could challenge an agent who could rip his throat out with one bite. Although, he had managed to evade me. And harm me in the process. Bastard.
Taking one last look at the train as the driver scurried to get out of the cab, I waved at Jake to go. His supersonic speed made him invisible to the eye as he travelled back down the rail track. Closing my eyes, I transported myself to the toilets at the station.
“If you’re going to pee, please make sure you turn me off.” Dave reminded me that he was there.
“If I’m going to pee, it will do a very good job of turning you off,” I quipped back as I looked in the mirror.
His chuckle made me smile at my reflection as I turned on the tap. My ponytail was in disarray, my cheek covered in white dust from the stones. Taking my hair out, I brushed it flat with my hands and left it loose.
“Nothing would ever put me off you. I told you, I’m going to marry you one day.” Dave almost choked when I leant forward and stuck my tongue out to inspect it. “Okay, steady on. One step at a time.”
Spotting the small cut and resulting blood, I rubbed my finger over it, grinning to myself when it healed instantly.
“No need to show off,” he muttered. “Some of us can’t even conjure a coffee without help.”
My healing abilities had come naturally with the ley line, but I wasn’t usually so quick to use them. Mother had insisted that I only use my magic sparingly. The ley line wasn’t to be taken advantage of or used for personal gain. Healing was classed as personal gain, but hell, sores on the tongue were a pain in the arse. Like I was going to not steal a tiny winy bit of magic to save myself the discomfort.
“So, we have Peter Mason,” I said as I bent down and thrust my arm under the tap.
The cold water stung as it washed away the grit and stones. Using my other arm, I rubbed it hard to get rid of the blood.
“We have Peter Mason. It’s about time we found out why he’s not only been seen speaking to Helen Cambridge, but why he was at the scene of the most recent crime.”
Bending down to the sink to suck in some water and spit it out, I laughed when Dave tutted disapprovingly. “Very ladylike.”
“Screw you,” I replied, sticking my tongue out at him in the mirror. “A girl needs a fresh mouth when she’s chomped on her tongue.”
I could just imagine the shake of his head. He would be sitting back in his chair, watching my reflection on one of his screens. He often commented on my less than feminine ways, but the man could hate all he wanted. Didn’t he realise that most women were human? We had to fart, or pee, or pick our nose sometimes. It was human biology.
“Anyway,” I said when he didn’t reply. “I’m ready for some interrogation time with my mate, Peter.”
My grin lifted the corners of my lips into my cheeks. Oh yes, I was more than ready. Maybe he would know the man in the demon suit. I had to keep my questioning subtle though, I didn’t want any of the others to clock onto my weird behaviour, especially since it had been Peter who had shot me. If he’d seen anything, he might let out my secret, which would mean the end of agent Gemma Abbott.
“I’m so coming in with you.” Dave’s tone was a little tight. Shit, he was already onto me. “I don’t trust you with the man who got away.”
Scoffing, I ran my hand over my long hair and straightened my anti-social T-shirt before blowing him a kiss in the mirror.
“No man ever gets away from me.”
