Dead man walking, p.1
Dead Man Walking, page 1
Dead Man Walking
Whitewitch Island Paranormal Cozies: Thirteen
Patti Larsen
© 2025 Patti Larsen
www.pattilarsen.com
***
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
***
Chapter One
If anyone ever told me I’d be sitting in my kitchen across from Hecate Aster, I’d have told them they were mad.
Outright mad.
That wasn’t her real surname, of course. Would she even have one, this ancient soul I found myself with? It was an affectation that she’d adopted, I could only imagine, to ease her way through this modern world. Because modern she was not, at least, not in origins. The first mistress of magic, the night and the moon, as a Titan and favorite of Hades himself, Hecate was not just immortal, she was immense, endless, the queen of time, source of many myths and legends. But she was doing an excellent job passing, despite her ancient grace, with her custom suit and easy posture, the way she tilted her head, that cascade of silken black hair shifting around her like it had a life of its own just this side of the uncanny valley many normals talked about when it came to art made to look like reality.
Perfection had a price, and that cost meant she gave me the creeps.
Surely, I wasn’t the only one.
Dr. Mavis Fernsby seemed just as uncomfortable, though perhaps for different reasons than I, since her return a short time ago to join us at my kitchen island. She’d escorted Benjamin and the ravens away, intercepting my love, Sam Spencer, and asking him to give us privacy, while I served the first witch a glass of wine—red, of course—in a surreal exchange that left me feeling even more off-balance than before.
Thankfully, Mavis hadn’t been long, and we were now settled, the three of us, Hecate watching me with flickers of white power showing in the backs of her pale, gray eyes.
“Mavis has told me what I need to know about the human magic living next door,” she said in that velvet, softly accented voice of hers. I’d initially wondered what language was her first, only to discard the question with a shudder, because did I really want to know what she grew up speaking?
No. No, I did not, thank you very much.
“Can you help?” I glanced at Mavis, who didn’t look at me either, focused solely on her bottle of beer like the contents were of utter fascination to her. Not at all a point in space where she could pay close attention so she didn’t have to pretend this wasn’t weird.
So freaking weird.
Not that Hecate seemed to notice. Then again, maybe she was just used to being the odd one in the room. She had to know the shivery feeling she left others with, right? That had me empathizing with her in a way that surprised me, though I highly doubted the likes of the first witch had any need for my compassion.
“That depends,” Hecate said.
On what? “I’m concerned that if human magic is returning, as my mother and grandmother believe, the Henrys are at risk that none of us can protect them from.” I couldn’t stop the grimace that followed. “Or the rest of us from them, if it comes to that.”
I’d been given the impression that being concerned about their impact was much more important than their safety, at least to my family.
Hecate’s red-painted lips pull back in a small smile, that razor-sharp edge to her liner another layer of far too precise for comfort. As was the fact that not a single line showed on her pale skin, not even at the corners of her mouth when she smiled. Shiver. “You’ve been misled,” she said, “though not by Morgana or Arimanthia, at least, not purposely.” She tapped those long fingernails of hers on the outside of her glass, making the thin material sing. “All of your kind have been purposely left in the dark. I’m here to shed light on what’s been hidden for your protection, but there are rules to that choice. Rules that I’m bound to share with you first.” She sipped her wine before going on. “Excellent vintage,” she said so offhand that I started. Hecate went on again as if she hadn’t segued at all. “You must agree to follow those rules, Georgia, or I will leave now, your memory will be rewritten, and you will go on as you have been, without further influence from anyone associated with what I have to share.”
The way she said it has me immediately wanting answers. She had to have known that already, because her knowing look was kind, suddenly.
Even more creepy, that kindness.
“I’m an inquisitor,” I said. “You knew what my response would be before you even spoke.”
“I did,” she said, swirling her wine, the silver lines on her long, black nails, sharpened to points, catching the light. Wait, were those runes? Did she embed magic into her manicure? I lifted my gaze to hers again as she went on. “There will be multiple exit points for you through this process, should you choose to take one. We are not above recruiting those we believe will be of benefit to us, but that benefit must be mutual.” Her gray eyes shone again with that odd, white light. “I’m going to be frank, Georgia. This isn’t the first time your name has come up, though it will be the last.” I glanced at Mavis when she twitched, but she didn’t comment, Hecate going on without pause. “We’ve had our sights on you for many years. When you left Guild Artemis, it was believed you were beyond our reach. But I have stayed abreast of your adventures,” she didn’t look at Mavis, but the twist to the retired necromancer’s lips told me who was her informant, “and with this revelation, I am inclined to welcome you at last. Once and once only.” She sipped again. “If you choose to accept our invitation.”
I didn’t kick Mavis, but I could have. I instead sat back and nodded, arms crossing over my chest. I might have been intimidated and frankly freaked out, but I’d been surrounded by powerful people my entire life—my gold dragon Sentinel grandfather among them—so I could adapt. I would adapt. “I’m listening,” I said.
Hecate took that as agreement and nodded. “Many years ago,” she said, “when we formed the Guilds, it was acknowledged that there needed to be some sort of oversight. In case one or more of the leaders of those Guilds became problematic. And to ensure the security and protection of paranormals when it came to interactions with normals and their societies.” Wait, we? Of course, we. I’d already accepted that she was ancient, so such distractions were only that. Stop it, Georgia, and focus. “I was tasked with the creation of that OverGuild, to be the Sentinel charged with ensuring that all others remain honest and true to their intended purpose.”
A role she’d filled for what, centuries? I didn’t want to think it might be millennia.
“I haven’t heard of such a Guild,” I said by way of keeping myself from the bubbling hysteria that wanted to surface.
“Nor will you, if you turn down this offer,” Hecate told me. “Guild Chaos demands a particular level of secrecy that I’m certain you’ll accept and understand once you’re exposed to our purpose.” She shrugged, a delicate and yet deliberate movement of her narrow shoulders, the angularness of her bones shifting under her thin skin. How could se be so lean that she appeared just this side of skeletal, and yet still stunningly beautiful in her eerie way? I swallowed the tightness in my throat and felt it slide down into my chest while she continued. “We draw on all Guilds for our membership, though inclusion is rare these days, and comes with costs that will be laid out for you before you make your final vows.” She quirked a shapely eyebrow at me. “If.”
“You want me because I’m a Drake,” I said, surprised at the resentment in my voice. “Dragon magic.”
Hecate laughed, low and soft, and her face suddenly transformed, no longer that frighteningly flawless appearance, but with a hint of normalcy, enough that I relaxed just a little, for good or ill.
“My dear Georgia,” she said, “while extraordinary, your bloodline is about on average with half a dozen of my finest Chaos members and barely in line with others.” Well, that wasn’t insulting, though I was asking for it, I suppose. “We wanted you,” she said, leaning in, white power now a blaze that overtook her eyes, “because you’re you.” I’d spent most of my life assuming otherwise. The instant of resentment at her amusement faded into something far more real. What a novelty, to be wanted for who I was instead of what bloodline I came from.
The very reason I loved it here on Whitewitch Island, I guess.
Hecate must have seen my acceptance, because her smile softened again. “I’ve had you on my list because of your talent for investigation, your implacable will, your refusal to quit.” She let me see and feel her power, the ancient, weighty presence of it, and I tried not to shrink away, holding my place, certain I was going to disappoint her at any second.
When she pulled back, I could breathe again, nostrils flaring to do so without showing my tension.
She smiled. “Yes, that,” she said, one more sip of wine passing her lips, giving me the time I needed to recover. Subtle of her, practiced. This was far from the first time she’d had this conversation. “I held off when you left Artemis, only because it wasn’t like you to give up like that. Mavis assures me it was merely dissatisfaction with what happened and how Hunter Barrow chose to deal with the enem
I tried not to be offended, because she wasn’t wrong. “What changed?”
“Mavis, for one,” Hecate said. “And your discovery of human magic. Not to mention Morgana and Arimanthia poking around in things that are not their business.” Her tone shifted to dangerous, suddenly. Not overtly, the subtlety almost impossible to catch. But there was a feeling to her shift, a momentum, that had goosebumps rising on my arms and worry about my mother and grandmother awakening. “I’ll be dealing with it,” Hecate said. “As for your friends, the Henrys, well.” She sighed very softly, a small, thin breath. “They are far from the only humans with magic, Georgia. Because the truth is, their power never went away.” She looked up again as I gaped at her. “We just hid it.”
Guild Chaos. She meant Guild Chaos hid it. “You have that kind of power.” I said it in a flat, dull voice, proud of myself, since the hysteria building in my chest wasn’t going to just go away anytime soon. The fact that Benjamin hadn’t reached out to me meant that Hecate was blocking him again, and for once, I was glad.
He’d be frothing at the mouth to get to me if he sensed my distress, and I didn’t want anything to happen to him.
“We do,” Hecate said. “It’s a sad truth that despite our best efforts, corruption and deception are a way of life, and all of the councils and Guilds are infected. It’s impossible to immunize them or their leaders completely, as much as we’d like to. But as long as those issues remain inside certain parameters, we’re capable of managing the rest. Human magic is one of those issues we’ve taken on.” She grimaced slightly. “That I’ve taken on personally, along with a select number of my closest advisors.” She shook her head at me when my gaze flickered to Mavis. “No, our dear necromancer friend had no idea. Even inside Chaos, we compartmentalize, for the good of everyone, Georgia. To maintain objectivity and protections for all. What we do is that important.” Her tone changed again, the intensity not exactly cajoling. She wasn’t trying to convince me, per se. But her conviction? That had me, like it or not.
She chose that moment to sit back, to return to her perfect uncanniness.
“Georgia.” Mavis surprised me when she spoke up, though Hecate didn’t seem concerned by the interruption. “You have to consider everything before you decide. Promise me.”
“Just tell me the rest,” I said through gritted teeth.
“You will be sworn to secrecy,” Hecate told me, “through time magic.” Of course, so if I did manage to break through it, they could rewind it. That made sense. “There are dire consequences to breaking your oath to us, Georgia. This is not something to be taken on lightly or without full disclosure. More than anyone, I know what I ask of you when I lay this out. You must leave all outside your knowledge—that means the raven pair you’ve bonded to, that Hades Hound who glorifies you, and yes, the human man you’re in love with.”
“I won’t give them up,” I blurted.
Hecate’s face softened. “We’re not monsters,” she said, then snorted. “Well, technically, some of us are.” Her eye roll was weirdly endearing, human. Which made me shudder all over again. “The fact is, we have no desire to ruin your life, to make you celibate or single you out for a lonely life of hermitage in service of the Guild. We want you happy, and that means making choices that are good for you. But.” She finished her wine before her sentence. “They must come to terms with the truth. That you have a secret life they can never be part of and should never push you to reveal. The results will be dire, I assure you. For you and for them.” She pushed back from the island, standing, that silk fall of her hair shimmering in the light as she tossed it back over her shoulder in a delicate motion. “I’m sorry to rush you,” she said, “but I need a yes or no tonight.” She nodded once. “Now.”
“I don’t know enough,” I said, standing, too, finding I was taller than her. How strange that I had inches on Hecate. It was a weird truth that only increased my discomfort.
“Forgive me,” she said with that almost human smile again. “Yes or no to proceeding, Georgia. Your final decision won’t come for some time yet. If you say yes, I’ll place a magical block on what we discussed so you can only share it with Mavis or another of Guild Chaos.” She nodded to the necromancer, who still hadn’t looked up. “That will give you someone to sort out matters with when needed. It saves me from assigning you a Guild member, since you’re already friends. And, if you say no, I’ll turn time back and you’ll have never met me. The choice is yours.”
I bet you think you know what I chose, right?
Sigh.
“I’m in,” I said.
Faced with all of that… what else was I going to say?
***
Chapter Two
Hecate lifted her hand and gestured for me to come to her, which I did, trying not to show my trepidation, though I was sure she felt it. Mavis finally looked up, lips in a grim line, but that was far from unusual for her, so I let it go and stood still as the ancient first witch touched my lips with her fingertips. Her sharp nails settled on my skin as she whispered something I didn’t catch, a distant echo in it, a vibration traveling through me as I caught, for the briefest moment, massive, impending doom that lurked just beyond my reach and perception. Was that the real Hecate? Or Chaos itself? Whatever the case, she dropped her fingers a moment later, gray eyes quiet and still.
“There is a permanent choice to be made down the road,” she said. “For now, we will enforce your obedience with silence. I want to assure you, however, we are always transparent at every step. This choice has to be made by you, for you. We will never coerce or strong-arm you into joining us. If you, at any point, feel like someone is pressuring you into doing something against your will, you must inform me immediately.”
“I understand,” I said.
“You don’t,” she said, “not yet. But you’ll have more of the puzzle to consider shortly. For now, I have to go.” She turned to Mavis, who had stood up, too, the first witch bending and kissing the necromancer on the cheek. “Thank you, my friend,” she said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Hecate.” Mavis nodded to her, watched her go. I felt it as Hecate dissipated, not disappeared. She stepped into time itself, eternity swallowing her whole, and when she was gone, the kitchen felt suddenly lighter, like we were underwater the whole time she’s been with us and had only just now suddenly surfaced again.
“Holy Hades,” I whispered.
Mavis grunted. “I’m sorry,” she said, not looking up even yet.
“For what?” I squeezed her shoulder, the necromancer finally meeting my eyes.
Hers were full of tears. “Promise me, you’ll think carefully before you say yes.” She shook her head. “Get the info, take the tour. But really think about it.”
Was that regret? “Do you wish you hadn’t?”
She shook her head again, wiping at her eyes. “Of course not,” she said. “Guild Chaos is the only real home I’ve ever known. Even Hades never felt the way this does. But Georgia, I didn’t have a life, a partner like Sam. A Benny or Conscio, Caprice.” She exhaled a shaking breath. “You’re going to have to keep the biggest secret of your life from them, and they’ll never, ever get to share it.” She stared me down, not letting me break away. “Ever. Think about that.”
“I will,” I promised her, though I’d already decided to go to the next step, told Hecate as much at the very least. My inquisitor’s brain wasn’t going to allow anything but that full disclosure I was promised. “I’ll make sure I have all the information before I decide, all right?” She didn’t seem happy with that assurance. “In the meantime, we’re not to worry about Olive and Holly, is that it?” The relief in that was almost worth having Hecate in my kitchen.
