Bound Powers Read online

  This book was written, produced, and edited in the UK where some spelling, grammar and word usage will vary from US English.

  Copyright © Saruuh Kelsey 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the prior written permission of the author

  The right of Saruuh Kelsey to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  Cover photo © iStock

  Cover and book design by Saruuh Kelsey

  http://saruuhkelsey.weebly.com/

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  BOUND POWERS

  Tiger’s Eye

  The Stone of The Golden Ray

  Gold-brown in colour, Tiger’s eye can transform anxiety into action and scattered thoughts into clear thinking. As it helps the wearer overcome doubts and focus, this stone can bring balance in times of stress.

  Pride

  The streets and buildings of Agedale had iced over in the month since Gabriella Pride and Joy Mackenzie had gone into the town hall to confront a witch killer. Gabi was glad when her car finally make it to the sturdy slab of stone that was her Aunt Cheryl’s pub, The Tipsy Witch. A huddle of middle aged men in varying states of shabbiness and inebriation, each with a cig in hand and puffs of smoke around them, gave a round of laughter when Gabi got out of her car and grabbed the brick wall, her boots sliding from under her on the slick ice. God, she hated winter. It was cold and treacherous and generally uncalled for. At least the step to the pub’s entrance had been doused with salt and made a safer path. Inside was blessedly warm. Thanks to her elven environmental magic, Aunt Cheryl always kept the place toasty.

  Inside the long rectangular room, Gabi wove in and out of wooden chairs and wobbly tables, snow flicking off her boots and fluttering from her collar to the floorboards.

  “Hey, you,” Aunt Cheryl said over the drone of conversations and an enthusiastic argument at the far end of the room. A large huddle had gathered around the flat screen TV showing a repeat of a football game. “Rosé or hot chocolate?”

  “Chocolate.” After the freezing walk from the car park around back, anything hotter than room temperature was more than welcome. “Any trouble lately?”

  “Nah.” Aunt Cheryl made quick work of frothing milk and boiling water, her thick curls—precisely styled, not natural ringlets—bouncing with every efficient movement. “After what you did for this town? No one dares risk it. They’re scared if they start something in here, my big scary niece will come and kick their ass.”

  “She will,” Gabi replied with a smile, leaning against the bar. Within a minute, a large mug was placed before her, tendrils of steam carrying the scent of rich chocolate and … whiskey to her nose. Gabi raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s warming,” Aunt Cheryl said with a shameless smile that was identical to Gabi’s dad’s smile. They looked so alike sometimes. “Plus, your ex’s eyes haven’t left you since you entered the room. A little Dutch courage won’t hurt.”

  Gabi swallowed a mouthful of chocolate to cover her trill of nerves. She and Joy had been … cordial. Perfectly, ordinarily cordial. No more confessions of feelings, no lingering touches. Gabi would like to report there had been no longing glances either but she couldn’t quite control her eyes. “Not a word,” she told Aunt Cheryl, who only smirked in reply, wiping down the bar. But when Gabi turned to make her way to the table in the back where she’d seen Joy and her coven from the corner of her eye—Joy’s pink hair and Eilidh’s turquoise dip dye much too bright, newly coloured, to miss—Aunt Cheryl stage whispered, “Go get her, tiger.”

  Gabi pointedly did not make any kind of response. A glare over her shoulder would only encourage her.

  Joy and the others were sat at a table with a banquette along the back wall, Victoriya laid out across the whole thing, looking carefully careless. Gabi skirted a coat hanging off the back of a chair and turned her body sideways to slide through what passed for an aisle—a narrow pass through elbows and outstretched legs and handbags and extra chairs—and tried out a smile as she took a seat at Joy’s table.

  “Alright, Gabi?” Gus greeted, looking uncharacteristically tired. When Gabi had first met him, he’d been neatly presented and his eyes had sparkled with amusement. Now his eyes were shadowed, and his formerly artful hair was just untidy, strands falling over his forehead.

  Gabi nodded. “Are you?” She didn’t mean to sound so sceptical but one look at him had her worried. He wasn’t exactly her friend but he wasn’t nothing either. They’d gone into that town hall together, fought together, and she’d trusted him to help Joy get out of there. That meant something, forged something between them.

  But he waved a lazy hand and said, “Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Gabi had no response. Not a polite one anyway. Instead she looked to Eilidh, her usual floof of blonde and blue hair flat and her eyes tired, and Maisie who Gabi noticed now sitting upright beside Gus, her red coat of fur ruffled, and Joy. They all looked … grim. Sad. They had ever since Salma had accepted a job offer in Coventry three weeks ago. Five didn’t make for a steady coven, but it was more than that, more than witchcraft. They’d lost their friend, someone as close as family. Gabi didn’t know what to say or do. Luckily the shadow left Joy’s eyes first and she asked, “Did you find the lizard?”

  “Yeah.” Gabi smiled, grateful for the break in tension. “It had burrowed through the vents at the school and got into the rabbit’s cage. I found it curled up with Mr. Fluffs.”

  “How’d you find it?” Eilidh asked, propping her head on her hand, her pale face partially hidden by a long sweep of blonde and teal hair. She looked ... troubled but that was expected for a girl who’d lost her cousin a month ago. And fought her killer.

  Gabi wrinkled her nose. “I followed the trail of …” She struggled for a polite word for shit.

  Gus snorted. “Your job is so glamourous, Gabi.”

  Actually, this was more the sort of thing she’d expected to be doing when she decided to follow in her mum and dad’s footsteps, and it was better than hunting down a killer, not that she would say that out loud. They’d avoided talking about what happened—Eilidh got upset when they spoke about it and Gus wouldn’t entertain a conversation at all. The only talking Gabi had done about Perchta was with Joy, who needed to vent as badly as Gabi did. So she said, “My next job’s even better.”

  “Wait, don’t tell me,” he said, holding up a hand. “You’re tracking down Mrs. Albert’s long-lost parakeet.”

  “Didn’t she lose that in the fifties?” Joy asked, brow furrowing in the cutest way. Gabi quickly averted her eyes before they went soft and loving.

  Gus shrugged one shoulder, taking a long drink of some pint or other. Cider, lager, something honey coloured.

  Gabi shook her head. “No, I’m not finding a parakeet.”

  “Did Andy Brewell ask you to spy on his cheating husband?” Victoriya said lazily, still fully horizontal on the padded bench and barely visible over the table.

  Gabi blinked. “Actually, yeah. How did you know that?”

  Victoriya snorted. “I’m psychic as shit.”

  Gabi was silent and highly doubtful, waiting for a second answer.

  “Alright fine, he was going on and on and on about it in dance class last Wednesday and to shut him up, I said he should ask you to get a photo of it for a divorce lawsuit or whatever.” A beat. “I give damn good advice.”

  Gabi smothered a laugh with her hand, drinking the last of her hot chocolate before it went cold. Or worse—lukewarm. Her eyes drifted,
over the old paintings that had been framed on the walls for decades, of fae and elves and witches in various, typical scenes of woods and nature and storms. Gabi had always liked the paintings of fae, of when they used to live in massive, extravagant vessels and sail all around the world. A lot of pirate lore had come from fae history. Big tall ships and brigs were a lot cooler than the sleek, personality-less yachts the fae owned now.

  “You should write a column in the paper,” Gus was saying as Gabi’s attention drifted. “Victoriya Stone, Agony Aunt.”

  Victoriya snorted loudly.

  Aunt Cheryl was flashing Gabi a speaking look from the bar, her eyes slowly sliding to Joy, but Gabi pretended not to see, studying the news on the small, shitty TV behind the bar. Some human politician had said something offensive to queer people, again, a man had just finished his thirtieth marathon for charity—unspecified, just charity—and police were asking for information regarding a suspected murder, last Friday night around eleven P.M. in Bristol. An old lady had died in her sleep but traces of an unnamed drug had been found in her system that suggested suicide, only she’d had a holiday booked for this Wednesday. Gabi watched a friend of the victim speak, using her poor lip-reading ability to pick up every seventh word.

  “So,” Joy said when Gus and Victoriya had stopped bickering. “What do we do now? Without Salma?”

  Gabi turned her eyes back to the group to find Eilidh frowning at a beer mat, Gus scratching his jaw, and Maisie curling up into a ball to sleep, nose hidden in her bushy tail. It was Victoriya who said, “We do what we’ve always done. We make it up.”

  Joy finished, “And hope for the best.”

  Joy

  “Hey.”

  Joy woke to a gentle hand shaking her shoulder and her neck at a bad angle. “Crap,” she groaned, sitting up. She was still in Gabi’s car, the heater on full blast, and she must have dozed off on the way home. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  Gabi smiled, the soft smile that turned Joy’s insides into one big puddle. “It’s fine.

  Joy discreetly wiped a line of drool from her chin and flattened her hair. “Oh, we’re here.”

  “Yep.” Gabi was still smiling.

  Joy really wanted to do something but she didn’t know what. Kiss her, hug her, thank her for bringing her home? She went the safest route. “Thanks for bringing me home, Gabi. I’m no good on ice.” Actually she was too good on ice, as in she usually spun a few times, twirling in panic, and hit the frozen ground on her bum.

  “It’s no problem. Wasn’t that far out of my way.”

  Joy blinked. “Gabi, it’s ten minutes in the opposite direction.”

  Gabi’s look turned wry. “Like I said. Not that far. You should go inside, Joy, before you fall asleep again.”

  Joy shook her head but the relaxing of her bones and muscles and the sleepiness flooding her agreed with Gabi. “Well, thank you for giving me a lift.”

  “You already said that,” Gabi pointed out, her eyes glittering.

  Joy’s eyes narrowed, even as she wanted to grin. “I’m reiterating.”

  Gabi grinned first, and then Joy couldn’t hold hers back. She was in very dangerous I’m-going-to-kiss-my-ex-girlfriend territory so she cracked the car door open to let in freezing, wintry air. The shock of it brought her to her senses.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow? Or soon?”

  “Soon,” Gabi agreed, her grin replaced by a smaller smile. “I have to follow Mr. Webber’s cheating husband tomorrow.”

  “Right.” Joy swung her legs out of the car, shivering already. “Text me if you need to talk.”

  “You too.”

  Joy nodded. She wanted to climb back inside the car and kiss Gabi until her swiftly-freezing body was hot again. She took a step back from the car. Gabi was her ex. And just because she sometimes looked at Joy with those soft eyes didn’t mean she wanted to go back to being together. Joy had burned that bridge too thoroughly. “I’ll see you then. Bye.”

  “Bye, Joy.”

  Joy made herself turn and walk to her front door, fumbling with cold fingers for her keys. Gabi didn’t drive off until Joy was safely inside. When the sound of the engine had faded, Joy leaned back against the inside of the door, just breathing, her mind still on Gabi.

  Yow.

  Joy jumped halfway out of her skin, her heart kicking up with a shock of fear. She trembled as she gripped her amethyst wand hard, acutely aware of how it had felt to have it ripped from her, and with her other hand she fumbled for her wand pocket, for powerful sea glass and crystals she never left the house without since the cells, since Perchta. Her heart beat fast, trapped in her throat, as she squinted into the dark of the hallway. At least the door was behind her—she could run if her wand wasn’t enough to protect her.

  She took a reluctant step forward. Even as sweat pricked down her back, on her chest, and even though she wanted to bolt and run until she was back with Gabi and her coven, safe ... this was her house. Her mum’s house. Righteous anger speckled her fear. This was a cherished place, and no one was going to ruin that for her.

  “Come out,” she ordered, her voice only wobbling a little. “I’m armed.”

  Yow, came the reply.

  Joy released a shuddery breath, lowering her wand. The tension left her bones, left her weak with relief, and she reached for the light switch. Was that a cat? Joy couldn’t remember the last time a cat had got in. Bright light illuminated the hallway and there on the narrow rug that ran the length of it sat a fat grey tabby with bright green eyes, blinking at Joy. Yow, it said again.

  As Joy calmed, her heart softened. She put the crystals away, relieved, trying not to remember that blue power she’d unleashed, that day in Town Hall. She’d never been able to turn away strays. “Are you lost, little man?” She took a slow step, so as not to scare the cat. It swished its tail. “You’re not lost? Or are you a little lady? Or are you just mad at me for existing?” Joy, who had owned several cats before, knew the deal with cats. They ruled the house, and humans—or witches—existed merely to serve. Joy’s mouth curled with a smile. Weirdly enough, this was exactly what she needed after the tension with Gabi.

  “You want some food?” Joy edged past the cat to get to the kitchen, expecting it to spook and run off yowling. It let her pass, then trundled after her, jumping onto the counter to watch her rummage through the fridge. “Tuna or milk?” she asked it. The cat meowed once, which Joy took to mean the first option and put a bit of tuna on a saucer with one hand, not yet able to let go of her wand. The cat looked at her as if to say, this is all you’re giving me? It’s hardly worth opening my mouth for.

  “Tuna is very fattening for cats, you know,” Joy told it. “And you’re already looking … substantial. Not that being fat is a bad thing.” Joy herself was substantial, especially around her stomach and thighs, and had never really understood why some people thought a bit of extra body fat deserved the same sort of horror as the biblical apocalypse. She shook her head, sighing. “That bit of tuna is more than enough.”

  The cat gave her a look declaring her mad and then began to eat.

  Joy made a tuna sandwich for herself and paused, wanting to go to the front room where she could sit in front of the fire but not wanting to give a random cat free reign of her kitchen. “Alright, buddy,” she said when the cat had finished and sat back on its haunches, cleaning its mouth with a paw. “Time for you to leave.”

  Yow sounded a lot like no.

  “You’re not my cat,” Joy explained. “I don’t know you. You can’t stay in the house.”

  The cat’s look said, you’re kicking me out? Are you the stupidest witch to ever be born?

  “Outside,” Joy repeated in a firmer voice. “You’ve had your tuna, now you leave. Sorry, little man, but that’s the way it is.”

  The cat glared.

  “Right,” Joy said. “Little lady. Got it. Still—outside.” To punctuate her point she opened the back door. Scowling the whole way, the grey t
abby left, it’s tail curling in the air.

  Joy shut the door, laughed to herself, and went into the front room to warm up. She kind of hoped the cat would come back—it had been a while since she’d had feline company. Her mum’s cat had passed away two months after she herself had. Joy shut that line of thought down and dropped in front of the fire. Better to think of things that didn’t make her heart ache for hours at a time. If only every train of thought didn’t lead back to her mum, gone, and Gabi … whatever Gabi was.

  Pride

  The next morning, Gabi woke up feeling groggy and like she’d had five pints the night before instead of two slightly-enhanced hot chocolates. But remembering the drive home with Joy snoozing in her passenger seat brought a smile to her face. Gabi put the shower on full force to shock those thoughts away. Joy was off limits, strictly an ex. Gabi had already hurt her once; Joy wouldn’t want to get back together and risk a second time.

  Gabi had yet to organise newspaper deliveries for each morning so after her shower, she squinted at the news app on her phone while she inhaled a cup of coffee as large as her head. Unlike the local paper, it reported only human news so Gabi only half paid attention as she scrolled through articles. Thefts, unfortunate deaths, celebrities expecting babies—despite how Gabi altered her preferences to not include showbiz gossip they still snuck through—whatever the royals were up to, and the latest mess up some politician had got into. Gabi finished her coffee and scrolled back up, lingering only over the articles on murders and suspicious deaths. It was unlikely that any of them would involve supernaturals but it wouldn’t be the first time a witch or fae or elf had targeted a human. And Gabi liked to keep appraised of what was happening in the cities and towns around them.

  She paused in the middle of reading about that woman she’d seen on the TV at the Tipsy Witch, not because she was particularly interested but because of one line: