Chilling Cadence

Five

The temperature outside had dropped considerably, and Cadence all but cringed away from the cold. She wrapped her cardigan tighter around her body and cursed herself for not wearing a warmer coat.

Lorelei led the way away from The Sizzling Griddle, past Cadence’s house, and to Bibliophile. When the door opened, bells chimed to alert the person behind the desk of their arrival.

Since Bibliophile was Ruth’s shop, Cadence expected for the old woman to greet them when they got in. Her surprise was great when, instead of a frail body and a shock of white hair, she saw a man. In his mid to late twenties with rich dark hair and a body made with sinews of muscle.

“Lorelei? Isn’t this a little early for you to be back?” His voice, deep and rich, made Cadence think he could sing. Something about the tone of it, the way it rose and fell.

His eyes—Cadence could see they were a light color, but she wasn’t quite sure what that color was from where she was standing—slid over to her in surprise before they moved back to Lorelei, questions swirling in them.

“Is Ruth here?” Lorelei asked.

“She’s—”

“Right here.”

Ruth peeked her head around one of the shelves, peering at Lorelei curiously. When she spotted Cadence, she smiled and Cadence offered a timid smile back.

“What did you need?” asked Ruth, coming around the shelves to stand in front of them.

Standing in front of Lorelei, Ruth seemed especially fragile. Her frame was so much smaller than Lorelei’s willowy, spider-like limbs. Cadence instantly felt protective of Ruth, and she couldn’t help but be on edge as she watched the Vampire converse with her.

“I want you to tell Cadence what you told me.”

Ruth’s eyes widened and they went from Cadence to Lorelei. “Are you sure?”

Lorelei nodded. “She’s going to help us track this thing down. She has more knowledge of these things than any of us here. If we’re going to hunt this thing down, we’re going to need that knowledge.”

That seemed to be all Ruth needed to know. She glanced over at the man at the counter and he got up from his seat, walked over to the door of the shop, and switched the sign to CLOSED. He drew the blinds and then went back to sit at the service desk, his face hard and serious.

“The night before the attack,” said Ruth, “I had a vision.”

“A…vision?”

Ruth gave a nod. “I saw…a creature. He was cold, hungry, sad. He wanted to feel. He wanted to feed. When I woke up that morning, I knew I had dreamed something that would come to pass, so I told Lorelei about it that night.”

“That’s the reason I went to Spellbound in the first place,” Lorelei interjected. “Because of Ruth’s vision.”

Cadence looked at Ruth incredulously. “You’re a Psychic.” There was no question, Cadence knew it was true.

Psychics were a rare breed. Humans who had supernatural abilities, who could contact beings from the Other Side, predict the future before it happened. From what her Grandmother had told her, Psychics all descended from the same Witch bloodline. A Witch woman who had mingled with a mortal man, and created Halflings who passed their power down.

That explained why Cadence was so protective of Ruth. Part of her recognized the Witch blood inside the old woman.

“Did you see what it looked like?” Cadence asked automatically.

Ruth was quiet, her eyes far away. “I didn’t really see it, no,” she admitted finally. “Just the outline of it. It was dressed in a black cloak, the hood was up. I saw it draining the soul of that boy. It sounded…” Ruth shivered. “It groaned and screeched like a dying man. And when it got to the boy, it placed its hands on his cheek. He could feel the coldness. So cold that it burned his cheeks, and then it drained him.”

Lorelei, who had been watching Cadence the entire time, noticed the change in her expression. She was immediately alert.

“You know what it is?”

“I…I could be wrong. I hope I’m wrong.” She murmured that last part to herself, but she was sure Lorelei still heard it.

They all stared at her expectantly. Even the man at the counter leaned in, his eyebrows furrowed together with impatience.

Cadence let out a sigh. “It’s…I think…” She took a deep breath to gather herself. “Based on what Ruth said, I think the culprit is a Cyhyraeth.”

Understanding flickered in Lorelei’s eyes but confusion presented itself on Ruth’s.

“A…?”

“Cyhyraeth. I guess it’s what you might think of as a Wraith. They’re Witches who make powerful pacts in order to gain power. They end up gaining the power they sought out, but the price is their humanity. They’re turned into creatures that need human souls to live.”

The man at the desk sucked in a breath and Ruth covered her mouth in horror.

Cadence’s mind was going a mile a minute. She looked at Lorelei.

“If this thing is what I think it is, then we really don’t have a lot of time until that boy dies. Wraiths eat souls. Meaning it’ll wait until Samhain to eat whatever souls its collected.”

“Samhain?” the man spoke up. He had moved from behind the service desk to stand with the others.

“The Day of the Dead. The time where all supernatural abilities are at their peak.” Cadence smiled timidly. “Humans call it Halloween.”

“That’s in a week,” Lorelei said, more to herself than to any of them.

“We need to cast protection on that boy. We need to cast protection on everyone in Glasskeep,” Cadence said. “For the time being, Humans shouldn’t be walking anywhere alone at night. He won’t attack Supernaturals yet. It’s not strong enough. After Samhain, though, it will be.”

“What do you suggest?”

Ruth and the man looked at Cadence with interest.

“How long has it been since the boy was attacked? Two days, three?”

“Four.”

Cadence’s lips thinned. “He’ll attack again tomorrow night. In the beginning, they attack every five days. The closer Samhain gets, the stronger they become and the attacks become nightly occurrences. He’ll try to store as many souls as possible so that he can eat as many as he can, and gain more power. Once he eats those souls, the bodies will die.

“I need to make a potion…it’ll make it so the Cyhyraeth will have difficulty devouring the souls. The problem is getting it to the boy…”

“Leave that to me,” Lorelei said. “What else do we need to do?”

“The only thing we can do is make sure no more humans get attacked. And if they do, we’ll have to administer the potion. The Wraith won’t show itself until the night of Samhain. At three in the morning, I’ll corner him and sever its soul from its body and cast it to the Other World.”

“Why three in the morning?” the man asked.

“Supernatural abilities are more powerful on Samhain, and that’s true for Witches, too. During three in the morning, a Witch’s powers are doubled. At three in the morning on Samhain, we’re the most powerful creatures on Earth.”

“Even Vampires avoid getting tangled up with Witches during Hallow's Eve or the Witching Hour,” Lorelei agreed.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” asked Ruth, her eyebrows drawn together. “It seems like you’re handling most of it. I’d like to be able to do…something.”

“You will be. Keep an eye on the future. The moment the Cyhyraeth makes a move, let us know.” Cadence checked the time. “I’ll start brewing the potion now. I’ll have it ready for you by tomorrow morning.”

Lorelei nodded grimly and Cadence made her way through the door, the bells jingling as she left.

When Cadence was gone, Ruth turned to Lorelei and gave her a look. Lorelei knew what it meant right away but she raised her eyebrows, playing coy. “What’s that expression for?” she asked.

“Cadence looks an awful lot like that Witch from a dream I had a long time ago,” Ruth said sternly. “A dream I recall telling you about in gory detail.”

“I know.”

“Then you should know controlling her isn’t going to work. That girl is destined to—”

“It’s worth watching,” Lorelei cut her off. “It’s worth seeing how things will turn out. If she slips and ends up down the wrong path…” Lorelei tilted her head up and stared at the ceiling even though she wasn’t really seeing it. “Then, I’ll kill her.”

As soon as Cadence walked through the door, Grimm’s ear pricked up and his black head raised from its spot on the couch, peering at her over the side of it.

“You’re back pretty late. Did you have fun?”

“That depends on what your definition of fun is,” Cadence muttered, removing her cardigan and throwing across the back of the couch. She reached over to scratch Grimm behind the ears. “I accepted Lorelei’s deal.”

Grimm didn’t even blink. “That was most likely the smarter decision.”

Cadence’s lips tightened. She had accepted that was the case, but it didn’t mean she liked it.

“What did Lorelei ask in return?”

“A kid got hurt a few days ago. Got his soul drained from his body. From the description given to me, I was thinking…”

“A Cyhyraeth.”

Cadence was taken aback. “How did you?”

“While you were at work today I did some exploring. I came across a scent I haven’t smelled in centuries.”

“So it is a Cyhyraeth.” Cadence was triumphant for a moment before the dread began to take over. “Then that kid…"

“Samhain draws closer each passing day. If you want to take preventative measures do it now.”

Cadence nodded. “I know,” she said. “I know. I know. You’re right.”

She went to the basement of the house. She hadn’t had the time to set much of anything up. She had no cauldron, no shelves filled with ingredients, no spellbooks. She cursed to herself. She hadn’t been able to load her cauldron into her car, so she’d left it. And even if she was a Witch, she couldn’t just make one appear.

This time when she headed out, Grimm tagged along. It was after dark, after all. And although the Cyhyraeth wouldn’t attack until tomorrow night, there were other things Cadence had to be careful of. Not Vampires now that Lorelei would protect her, but things that maybe even Lorelei couldn’t fight.

Or rather, two people who would give the Vampire the hardest of times.

“There has to be a Witch’s supply shop somewhere around here,” Cadence was saying as walked in the opposite direction of The Sizzling Griddle. Past Spellbound Coffee Shop, past the shop where Chau’s parents worked. Cadence had the urge to rely on the teenager for knowledge of this kind of thing, but it was late, and a Thursday. Chau would have to get up early for school tomorrow. She was probably already fast asleep.

Grimm stopped in the middle of their walk. Cadence didn’t realize until a little late, and she turned to look back at him—almost a foot away—in surprise.

“Grimm?”

But he wasn’t listening. His rigid body suddenly sprang into motion and he lurched forward, running at high speed.

“Grimm?” She called, her feet moving automatically as she broke into a sprint. Her boots slapped against the concrete sidewalk as she followed her familiar, her cardigan breaking open now that she was no longer holding it around her body. The air against her graphic tee was cold, and as it nipped at her cheeks and forced its way down her throat, her eyes stung a little.

On Grimm ran until he came to a stop in front of the church Cadence had originally seen when she first entered Glasskeep. It was an old gothic building that didn’t match up with the rest of the town at all.

It was separate from everything else and had a sort of eerie quietness. Its pointed spires reached up to touch the dark sky and all Cadence could do was gape up at it. There was nothing like this in New York. The most she had seen of such ingenious architecture was in pictures.

The doors of the church, heavy and made of carefully carved wood, were open so that whoever wanted to enter could. Cadence could sense residual magic around the place, a spell of old had been put on the church. A spell of protection, Cadence realized after further prodding.

She wondered if Alisyn had done it.

Grimm moved forward, walking right into the church. And Cadence, curious and wondering what had him acting the way he was, followed behind him.

She was not disappointed by the interior. Five rows of pews sat in what seemed like the great hall of the church. A podium stood in front of a stained glass window that depicted Jesus on a cross, angels coming down from Heaven, and a beautiful mural of the Virgin Mary cradling a baby Jesus in her arms, looking down at him with such a tender emotion, Cadence thought she might come to life and turn her eyes to Cadence.

On the high ceiling, Cadence saw paintings that could have rivaled the ones of the Sistine Chapel. Angels and demons engaged in battle, demons stealing away women to create the first Witches, and God, sitting in his throne, more regal than anything Cadence had ever seen, surrounded by light and color, raising his hands as if to give hope to the hopelessness below.

It was beautiful.

Cadence didn’t know how long she was admiring the ceiling painting, but when a voice spoke up, it surprised her.

“Mrs. Phan painted it. It’s captivating, isn’t it?”

Cadence’s eyes flickered over to where the voice was coming from. A man dressed in the robes of a priest stood in the middle of the room, in between a row of pews. He hadn’t been there before, and as large as this room was, if he was human she would have heard his footsteps echoing.

When she looked at him, she could sense he wasn’t human. He wasn’t like anything she had ever encountered before. Not in the same sense that Lorelei hadn’t been like anything she had ever encountered, either. With Lorelei, even though she had never encountered a Vampire, she knew what Lorelei was immediately. Years of studying supernatural creatures had done that. But with this man…He was an anomaly.

Because she could sense two very different natures hidden inside of him. One was that of Nephilim and the other…was demonic in nature.

Together, those energies swirled together, and Cadence quickly understood why Grimm had been drawn here. He had sensed another demon, a demon whose scent was mixed with angelic blood and it had driven his curiosity.

Cadence covered her mouth in horroified surprise. “You…You’re—”

“The Reverend of this church,” the man answered a bit sharply. “Yes. I’m Reverend Whitlock. You must be the new resident I’ve heard so much about. A pleasure to meet you.”

Cadence tried to swallow, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of this Reverend Whitlock the way she was with Lorelei—his face was rounder, kinder, more like he was trying his best to be gentle—but the feeling of his dual natures was…disorienting. It made her feel like the room around her was spinning, her stomach turned.

“You seem unwell,” Reverend Whitlock said, concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. Grimm rubbed himself against her leg, and when she tried to focus on him, all she saw were his large eyes looking at her in worry.

She swayed and probably would have fallen had it not been for Reverend Whitlock who was at her side. He held her up and led her over to a pew. After she was seated, he left for a few seconds and then was back, holding out a bottle of water.

“Here,” he said to her. “You’ll feel better after you’ve had a drink of this.”

Cadence looked at the water a little suspiciously.

“You can check it for toxins if you’d like,” the Reverend said. He didn’t sound offended or defensive in the least. “You won’t find anything.”

Cadence opened the bottle of water and gave it a tentative sniff. Her nose was a nose far better than any Witch or even a Vampire when it came to smelling out poisons or drugs. After all, such things were like potions in their own right. After her check came up clean, she chugged down the water.

Reverend Whitlock, who was sitting down beside her, a careful distance away, stared at the murals drawn on the stained glass windows ahead of them.

After Cadence had drained the bottle of water, the Reverend spoke.

“It’s unusual,” he murmured. “Most Witches stay far away from churches of God for fear of what happened to you here happening to them.”

Cadence, feeling weakened and a little sick, suddenly understood what was going on. It wasn't the Reverend that was making her sick, it was the church. And now she remembered the way her Grandmother warned her to steer clear of them. For they wouldn’t kill her, but they would render her weak and powerless, and that was practically death for a Witch. She could imagine what would happen to Lorelei if she walked in here. Instant combustion, probably.

“Oh, so that’s what's wrong with me.” Cadence laughed weakly. “How are you okay? You’re half demon, aren’t you?”

Reverend Whitlock, instead of flinching like Cadence thought he would, nodded his head grimly. “I am part demon but I’m also part angel. And, in all my life, I’ve never hurt a soul. I like to believe I have redeemed myself of my demon heritage in the eyes of the Lord, and that is why I’m allowed in such a place without any effects.”

Cadence closed her eyes, trying to will the nausea away. “Is this church yours?”

“Mine?” the Reverend chuckled. “No. This church belongs to the Lord, but if you’re asking who founded it, I believe you’ve met her already. You live in her old house.”

Cadence’s eyes flickered open at that.

“Lorelei Darkhe.”

Cadence was surprised even if she shouldn’t be. Firstly, a Vampire founding a church sounded like the beginning of some really bad, really dark joke. Secondly, she had no idea the house she was living in was Lorelei’s before. But, now that she thought about it, it did make sense. Yesterday night, Lorelei had been able to enter the house without Cadence inviting her in. Because the house had been hers.

Cadence squeezed her eyes shut. “Lorelei founded a church?” Even nauseated and dizzy, Cadence couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

Reverend Whitlock was unfazed. “It was built as a means of protection for the residents should the veil begin to fray.”

Cadence wondered if he knew the veil was already fraying.

Like he had heard her—and maybe he had, maybe that was some angel-demon power, Cadence didn’t know—the Reverend said, “Since the veil has begun to fray, this church is more important than ever.”

“I assume you’ve heard about the teenagers,” Cadence said.

Reverend Whitlock nodded grimly. “Such a shame, what happened to that young man.” He paused and then, in a voice that signified he was adding two and two together, he said, “Lorelei must have bought you into everything.”

Cadence gave a nod in way of answer, and Reverend Whitlock was silent for a few moments before he spoke again.

“And what bought you to the church. I can’t imagine a Witch entering unless it was something important.”

“Actually,” Cadence said, “I wasn’t the one who wanted to come here. My Familiar caught your scent and…”

“I see.” Reverend Whitlock’s attention was turned on Grimm who sat in between them, staring back at the Reverend intently.

“I also wasn’t thinking about what churches do to Witches,” Cadence continued. “My Grandmother warned me, but I never believed her. I didn’t believe a lot of things she told me.”

Cadence forced herself not to talk after those words. Being around the Reverend did odd things; it made her want to spill her deepest, darkest secrets. The Air of the Angel, it was called. Cadence had read about it in one of the books her Grandmother had forced her to memorize. It was a certain aura angels and some special Nephilim carried with them, an aura that made those around them confide in them.

“While I’m here, you wouldn’t mind giving me some Holy Water, would you?”

“Not at all.” Reverend Whitlock stood and disappeared into a back room, his footsteps not making a sound at all as he went. He was almost as creepy as Lorelei in that regard. If not for his kind face, and gentle voice, he would be more terrifying than that Vampire by far.

The Reverend returned, holding a large flask filled to the brim with Holy Water of the highest caliber. Cadence could feel the power thrumming in the flask when her hand closed around it. Holy Water blessed by a Nephilim—half demon though he might be—really was more powerful than anything blessed by a human.

“I should get going,” Cadence murmured, gripping the pew ahead of her for balance. Reverend Whitlock watched, tensed, prepared to catch her if she fell. “Oh, before I leave, do you know if there’s any Witch supply stores nearby.”

Reverend Whitlock raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were a Witch Supply store. That’s what people are saying anyway.”

“We’re less of a Witch supply store and more like a witch grocery store,” Cadence explained, not for the first time. Most non-Witches asked the same question. “We sell things needed for spells, potions, the occasional charm.”

Reverend Whitlock looked curious, but he said, “There’s a store just down the road, past Odell’s Auto Repair shop. There’s a small little grocery store to your left and right behind the old grocery store there’s what looks like a little house. A Witch named Ayami lives there. She sells all manner of things. She should help.”

Cadence thanked the Reverend and made her way out of the church on shaky legs. The moment she stepped out of the church and into the fresh air, she felt like herself again. Power swirled through her body in a feeling similar to having one’s leg fall asleep and then suddenly wake back up again. The power swirling inside her was both painful and delicious.

Grimm, at her side, sat perfectly still with only his tail twitching irritably.

“Did you see whatever it was you were looking for?” Cadence asked, her voice unintentionally sharp.

“Indeed,” Grimm said, saying no more.

Even though Cadence was used to this kind of secrecy from Grimm—he never talked about his life before he was summoned as her familiar—it still irked her a little. No, not a little, it irked her a lot.

Without a word, the two of them followed Reverend Whitlock’s directions. When they came to Odell’s Auto Repair Shop and the grocery store directly across the street, they walked until they came to the house in question.

The house was compact and painted white, traditional Japanese wind chimes hung from nearly every inch of the house. Cadence could make out sigils from Japanese Witchcraft—sigils for protection, peace, guarding against all manner of undead—crafted expertly on both the vigil itself and the little tanzaku held into the wind chimes by string.

Cadence had studied with a Witch who specialized in Japanese Witchcraft at her Grandmother’s request. She had learned to make the sigils and even with years of practice, if she didn’t concentrate, sometimes it could come out looking shaky and she’d have to start over. But these were perfectly done, the hand that created them had been sure.

Cadence had barely set one foot into the yard when the door flung open, spilling yellow light onto the sakura tree that was somehow in full bloom in the middle of the fall. When Cadence’s eyes adjusted, she realized the silhouette standing in front of her was a woman.

She had slim, distinctly Japanese features and she was dressed in traditional clothing—a kimono with the pattern of lush greenery that reminded Cadence distinctly of a lush forest. Her hair hung long and black down her shoulders and when Cadence’s eyes really let her see the woman’s face, she was amazed. She was beautiful. Really beautiful. Not in the same way that Lorelei was beautiful—that kind of beauty was a beauty without a single flaw—but a human beauty that shook Cadence to her core.

The slant of her elegant neck, the shine on her dark hair. It was all beautiful. Cadence couldn’t stop gaping at her.

“I was expecting you,” the woman said. “Come in.”

Without a second thought, Cadence obeyed. When the door was shut behind them, Cadence’s eyes trailed over the interior. It was a Witch Supply store. Cauldrons were located in a shelf against a far wall, swords and knives lined up neatly on the walls, jars filled with the golden tail of a Nine Tailed Fox. Cadence couldn’t help but marvel at that last item. It was something that was nearly impossible to get your hands on, and yet this woman had three.

“It took you long enough to get here,” the woman muttered.

Cadence looked back at her, only to find that the beautiful woman was already moving away from her.

“Do we know each other?” Cadence called after her. She had disappeared in a room.

“Well, I know you most definitely, but you don’t know me yet.” She came from the back room, holding a small box in her hand. “I’m Ayami Sakamoto. And you’re Cadence Nightingale, correct?”

Cadence started at that. She didn’t know why she was so surprised hearing someone say her full name. By now, everyone had to know she was a Nightingale. After all, she was running a shop that had been started by her great-great Grandmother, a powerful Nightingale Witch who dealt in Divination.

“How do you know me, exactly?” Cadence asked, looking at the box in Ayami’s hand warily.

“By this point, there isn’t a Witch who doesn’t know your name,” Ayami said. “Hansel and Gretel are looking for you. They’ve gone to three different covens looking to see if anyone’s heard anything.”

Cadence’s blood turned to ice in her veins and it was a struggle not to let the fear show on her face. Grimm, at her feet, let out a little noise that was similar to a growl.

“A week ago, my mother was telling me about Hansel and Gretel spreading their search for you overseas. An informant of theirs came to see my mother's coven in Hokaido, looking for Cadence Nightingale. Imagine my surprise when a Cadence ended up in Glasskeep. I knew it was you immediately. I mean, for starters, no one comes to Glasskeep unless they’re running from something.”

“I guess that means you’re running, too, then,” Cadence shot back, eager to take the heat off of herself.

“I am,” Ayami admitted. “We all are. But that’s not the point I’m trying to make. You and I were bound to meet eventually, Cadence. We were fated to meet. It was written in the stars centuries ago.”

“You practice Divination.”

She nodded. “I got into some…trouble in Hokkaido a few years back. Something that was completely not my fault,” she added quickly. “Anyway, after that, it could have fallen back on my entire coven. The coven thought I should take my life as repentance to take the heat off our backs. My mother asked me to use my skills to see where I should go next, to find what was best for the Coven. I did.”

“And?”

“And I saw you, me, Lorelei, and Ruth working together. I don’t know what we were doing, but I foresee us stopping a great evil. Something that we can’t accomplish without you.”

Cadence was equal parts curious and horrified. “I’m not stopping any great evil,” Cadence said. “I’m just stopping this Cyhyraeth on Samhain. That’s it.”

“You’re not stopping any great evil yet,” Ayami emphasized. “But it will come. Even my ancestors foresaw you. When I told my mother of my vision, she gave me this.” Ayame took the box in her hand and set it down on the service table. She opened it and revealed an old scroll which she unfurled to reveal a picture.

Cadence’s blood ran cold. There was no denying that was her, but that person was unrecognizable. Stark white hair, cold catlike yellow eyes and a face devoid of any emotion.

Goosebumps rose on her arms. That picture was exactly like the prophecy the Oracle had read for Cadence when she was younger. The prophecy that had weighed down on Cadence from the moment she had heard it.

You will rule at a great Demon’s side as the Queen of Hel. All who stand before you shall tremble in fear.