- Home
- L W Rogers
Raising Hell
Raising Hell Read online
RAISING HELL
by L.W. ROGERS & T.F. WEBB
‘Raising Hell’
Copyright © 2020 L.W. Rogers & T.F. Webb
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the authors, unless when used by reviewers in the form of quotations for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product 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.
This book contains strong language and sexual references, therefore it is suitable for those who are aged 18+.
Cover Design: DC Cover Creations
dccovercreations.com
Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Coming Soon...
Acknowledgements
About the Author: L.W. Rogers
About the Author: T.F. Webb
Dedications
For my husband Andrew. Your love and support are always there. I love you.
~ L.W.Rogers
For my family. You love. You support. You nurture. I love you completely.
~ T.F. Webb
Prologue
Cadence
"Happy Birthday, Cadence," mum says as she sits at the end of my bed. I stir from my teenage slumber, but shoot up from under the covers once my eyes catch sight of what is placed on her lap. With a warm smile she hands it to me, and I begin tearing at the wrapping with eager ferocity in the hope that it is what I have been waiting for, for so long.
I stare at it wide-eyed for some time, following the intricate beautiful patterns that flow across the old leather-bound book with my index finger. Inhaling, I take in its all too familiar smell. You may wonder why I am so happy to be handed an old, worn book for my birthday. This isn't just any old book. I'm not just any ordinary teenager. This book that I have yearned for, for so long, is in fact my first grimoire.
If you haven't guessed yet, I am a witch. It is tradition to pass on the grimoire from mother to daughter on her 13th birthday. It prepares her for what is to come and enhances a young witch's powers. I have been practising for many years under my mother's watch, but now I have a little more freedom with which to practice. True, I still have to abide by the rules of the coven and my mother, but I now feel I can participate more. Of course, I won't be able to do any of this until I have undergone the rite of passage, which welcomes my powers and sees my official initiation into the coven. Until now I was just a spectator at the coven meetings and was to be seen and not heard. Although, there are times where I am probably heard more than they would like. What can I say? I'm a keen witch.
The rite won't commence until the falling of the sun. Until then I have the joy of school. I thank my mum, wrapping my arms around her.
"Now get yourself ready for school and I'll make your breakfast," she instructs me as she gets up to leave my room. Once she leaves I open the book, eager to learn some new spells. "Cadence! That can wait. Dress now!" I hear her shout from the hallway as she heads towards the kitchen. I roll my eyes and reluctantly close the grimoire. I place it under my pillow and get myself up to face the dull day ahead.
The morning seems to drag as I go from lesson to lesson. A few ‘Happy Birthdays’ float my way, but other than that I am faced with the usual mundanity of school.
By lunchtime, I begin to feel a little ‘off’...flush. I ask to be excused to pop to the toilet so I can cool off. As I walk down the long, gloomy, greying hallway of the school towards the nearest toilets, my heart begins to race and I feel my temperature rising. My palms begin to sweat uncontrollably. I feel myself beginning to weave through the corridor, and I hold onto the walls for support as I struggle to focus. Reaching the toilet doors, I fling them open with a thud as they hit the wall behind them. I rush to the sink to splash cold water over my face and leave my hands resting under the tap to cool off.
‘Brilliant timing!’ I think, ‘Of all the days to be ill my body decides the day of my rite to do it.’ I enter one of the many dank, worn down toilet cubicles, closing the door behind me. I sit for a while, trying to overcome whatever it is that is making me feel so dreadful. I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. Slow and steady.
I finally feel I’m beginning to get back to my old self. I return to the sink, giving myself a final cool down before heading for the exit. Before I get to the door a gaggle of girls enter. I try not to make eye contact. As I slide to the side to allow them to enter, one catches my arm and swings me back into the room.
"Hey, where you off to in such a hurry?" my accoster asks. I don't need to look up to see who it is. It's obvious from the tone in her voice and the state of her attire. It's the ‘popular girl’ and her posse, although she's more of a bully in my eyes. She gains admirers and 'friends' through bully tactics. She is 2 years above me, with the usual sort of look you would expect from a girl who is popular; slender, tall, mousy blonde hair and blue eyes. Skirt so far up her ass there isn't much point in wearing one. Make up layered on thick. A tart, pure and simple.
I try to side-step past her, but she counteracts and puts herself in front of the exit.
"What do you want, Amber?" I huff at her, not in the mood for her games, "I need to get to class," I continue, as I try to shimmy past. As I feel her posse of friends behind me closing in, I can feel my short fuse getting shorter. I've never been afraid of bullies. I've seen a lot worse in the world through the coven than I have with school bullies. Usually, I try to placate them.
I don't want to cause further trouble, but I am beginning to feel unwell again. Having these girls pester me, to be honest, is just pissing me off. My hands begin to burn and sweat uncontrollably.
"Stay and have a ciggie with us. It is your birthday after all," Amber says with a bitchy smile. As she places her arms around my shoulders, she drags me further into the room. One of her friends pulls out a cigarette and lights it. Shrugging Amber off I take a step away. I can see this pisses her off but I don't care.
"I'm not in the mood to play your games Amber and I'll pass on the cigarette. You wanna kill yourself, go ahead."
My hands worsen now and beads of sweat slip down my face. From Amber’s expression I can see she is taken aback by my response and is more than a little pissed at me standing my ground. All I want to do is go home and rest, so I turn to leave. I feel someone, who I can only assume is Amber, grab my shoulder and yank me back. I grab the hand and as I do a raging heat radiates from my palm. A piercing scream follows as the hand is yanked away from me. Spinning around, I am surprised to find Amber holding her hand in pain.
"You bitch! You burned me.”
Chapter 1
Cadence
I gasp as I wake, sweat pouring off me. My heart is racing at an unnatural speed. It t
akes me a while to focus and realise what is happening. That all too familiar feeling of burning up like I was still in my dream, the realisation that the sight before me is literal, seeing my not-so-clean sheets as they become engulfed in flames. I calm my thoughts, close my eyes, raise my hands, palms down, over my flaming duvet and I cast until the fire is out and I begin to cool off. I climb out of bed and grab the now very charred duvet in my arms, then throw it into a rubbish bag. Thank god I didn’t burn the apartment down.
I look at my clock. 09:02. ‘Crap! I'm late for work.’ I quickly shower, scrubbing away any stench of smoke or charred flesh from my body. I climb out, patting myself dry. I can see the wounds are already healing. By the time I get to work they won't even be noticeable. Perks of being a witch; fast healing. I throw my hair up in a wet bun and dress as quick as I can. I have no time to preen this morning.
I call down to Tobias telling him to bring the car to the front and grab my bag, phone and folder as I head for the elevator. Tobias is out front, already holding the passenger door open for me as I exit the apartment complex.
"Ma'am." His head lowers in a respectful gesture as I slide into my seat. He closes the door, heading around to the driver's side and starts the car. We drive into the centre of town with minimal interruptions from traffic...thank god! I have no patience for that shit, especially when I’m already late.
As we park in the basement of the building my phone rings. I rummage for it amongst the crap that is housed in my bag. I seriously need to de-clutter. It stops ringing before I have chance to answer, which leaves me cursing under my breath. Tobias opens the door, offering his hand. I take it and step from the car, only to be accosted by the head of my security team.
"Miss Winters, we have a situation," Trevor informs me, his expression firm and serious.
"What now, Trevor?" I ask sternly, not impressed that I haven’t even been greeted with even a sniff of my morning latte.
"Sorry Ma'am, but it’s extremely urgent.”
I sigh. "Well get on with it,” I snap as I walk to the elevator, Trevor by my side.
"We’ve had a break in. Your office..." There is hesitation in his voice. I turn to him, face hard, cold. I say nothing as we enter the lift. I press for the top floor and the door closes.
"Has anything been taken?" I ask as the lift ascends, trying to comprehend how this could have happened.
"Not that we can see, the team are doing a full sweep of the building. We also have a team on their way to check the security, and IT to ensure we haven’t been hacked."
I say nothing, processing what I’ve been told and wondering how this could happen. I have the highest spec, up-to-date security system there is, on top of security spells which are cast when I leave the building. Whoever this was it wasn’t a ‘human’ intrusion. That I can say with absolute certainty. However, I'm dumbfounded as to why it’s happened or who it could be. I don’t think it’s personal. My private life is very separate from business; well, to an extent.
I have supernaturals working for me, but that’s only because I have to. My mother always says it is a means to an end and a way to keep track of the supernatural world. Daemons (full and half breeds), witches, warlocks, wolves; you name it, I have it. I have a variety of supernaturals on my payroll for whatever needs that may arise. All come with their own expertise. You may have guessed what wolves and daemons are used for... muscle, pure and simple. Daemons aren’t the smartest of the bunch but they have their uses, and wolves, well need I say more?
My company (or should I say my mother's company) deals with rare antiquities. They’re not your usual rare antiquities. Well we do get the odd one, but on the whole, we deal with ones with supernatural origins. We keep a log of all the antiquities we now have and the ones we previously had and where they are in the world. Yes, we do sell them, after all we are a business, but we vet the buyers and we have a tracking spell on everything we sell. If they sell it on, without prior permission, their punishment is severe.
Yes, I may sound harsh and you probably think I’m being a bitch but growing up in the supernatural world makes you grow up very quickly and you learn to trust no one. I’m the boss. I can’t be seen to have a weak spot. When my mother passes over, the company will be mine, as will her place as coven leader. No pressure!
I have to be strong for my family and the business. I have responsibilities and with them comes the hard truth that I have to be ruthless, especially in a world run by men. No man is ever going to get between me and my goals. Over my cold, dead body! Hell would have to freeze over before I let a man tell me what to do.
As the lift comes to a stop, the doors open and the hustle and bustle from the ‘break-in’ is apparent. The large reception area is crammed with staff and security, who are combing every inch of the place for any evidence that the intruder may have left behind. The search will be in vain. If ‘someone’ (I say that loosely, as I’m almost certain it’s a supernatural) has managed to gain access to the building, then they are smart enough to not leave any clues.
Trevor continues to follow as I enter my office at the far end of the corridor. As the door closes behind me, I can sense that I’m not alone. I chuck my belongings on my desk, taking a breath. Gritting my teeth in frustration, I turn to see Trevor standing guard inside the office. He’s very formal…hands crossed behind his back, his stance that of a true bodyguard, head facing forward. Not even eye contact.
“Is there anything else?” I probe him further as I lean onto my desk in a slightly relaxed manner which just feels so unnatural for me.
“No Ma’am. I just think it’s important that security is increased until the suspect is apprehended.” His face never falters, nor moves its position.
Like a jolt, I'm out of my ‘semi-relaxed’ pose and walking a few feet towards him, feeling a little ticked off that he would take it upon himself to make this decision. Yes, he maybe Head of Security but everything, and I mean everything, goes through me. No questions asked.
“Do you not think I can take care of myself, Trevor?” I ask, moving closer to him, hand raised, palm up. I look at my hand and a small flame appears. Trevor's eyes now move from the fixed gaze to the flame that is building within the palm of my hand.
“No Ma’am,” he says quickly with a nervous quiver in his voice.
“Well then...” I close my hand, extinguishing the fire. I head to my desk. “Don’t assume I need more security. I can handle myself, as you well know. As for security, I agree it needs to be increased. Especially at night. Please see to that and leave me to my day.”
“Yes Ma’am.” The door goes once more and I’m finally left in peace. I walk around to my desk, removing the crap I'd flung on it. I take a seat and grab the pile of mail staring at me. ‘Ugh! I hate paperwork.’
“Julie...” I buzz my receptionist, “Could I get a large Latte, extra sugar.” I click off before she even has time to acknowledge the request. I am in need of some serious caffeine if I am going to get through today.
Before settling into the tasks for the day, there’s one call I should make. After all, it is her business, so she should know what has happened. I dial and before it even gets to the second ring, she answers.
“Everything okay, Cadence? It’s an unusual time for you to call.” My mother was always very perceptive; one of her many qualities. But I suppose being an empath gives her a heads up in all situations.
“Hi mum. I just wanted to let you know what’s happened here,” I begin to tell her. I fill her in on the morning’s issues. She listens intently, not interrupting me until she knows I have said what I need to. She seems un-bothered about the break in but says she will speak to the coven about it. There is a long pause before the silence is broken.
“What else?” she asks. I can feel my brow crease in confusion. I've told her everything to date.
“That’s it. Once I know more, I'll let you know. You know I will.”
“Did anything happen at home?” she asks. You can't get
anything past an empath, especially when she is your mother.
I roll my eyes and proceed to tell her about my slight mishap with the bedding and my dream. She doesn't seem too concerned, which she shouldn’t. It’s not the first time this has happened and I’m sure it won’t be the last. True, it’s becoming more of a regular occurrence, but I can handle it. I think my hormones are just playing up.
“Have you started preparing for your rite, Cadence?” she asks softly. I roll my eyes again.
“Not yet mum, but I will. I have plenty of time.”
“Not that much time, Cadence. It’s important. You can’t become coven leader until you have completed this. I know you're extremely busy. How about I gather the ingredients for you? Good, then that’s settled. You need to get the grimoire for it and start researching. I’ll call you tonight, okay? Love you.” Before I can even protest, she hangs up.
I slump back in my chair. My head is beginning to throb from all the stress. I know she means well and wants the best for me, but I know once I do what she asks of me that it will affect her and her powers and I just don’t think I’m ready. I’m not ready for her to leave me.
I close my eyes for a brief period, head whirling with ideas of how to get out of it. I hear a gentle knock on the door and Julie enters with my drink. She places it on the desk quietly and leaves. I crack one eye open once I hear the door click shut to check if she has left. I sigh and grab the hot drink from my desk. Caffeine; my best friend. I take my time with it, knowing once it is gone I'll have to start today’s tasks.
I flit through my diary, checking what I have on today. I am relieved to note I have no meetings scheduled. I don’t have the social skills to suck up to prospective clients on a good day let alone today. I sift through the mail stacked on my desk. Most of it is twaddle, so I throw it in the recycling. A nagging feeling gnaws at me. I am annoyed...more than annoyed. I am pissed. Pissed that someone could not only bypass my state of the art security, but also my high-powered security spells. I can feel my frustration and anger begin to bubble to the surface. My hands begin to steam. I have to calm down or I’ll set fire to the office.