Covens and Proxies

30

Callisto POV

37 hours earlier~

I have to be honest, I struggle with normal life on the regular. It's why I hate being so social. I'm probably the one witch in the coven that at least knows everyone else on a basic level. Some of them I like a lot! While others are... Less appealing. Still, they're witches and we need to help each other out.

That's why I taught (Y/n) to always send a signal to a witch nearby if she were ever in danger. I'd hoped that would never happen, so when I received the message I was mortified.

Immediately, I asked for transportation help from another sister--one that specializes in long-distance warp gates. I was on the scene in seconds.

There' blood on the ground and on a wall, a few empty bullet shells, and dust still lingering in the air from the fight. From what I can tell, there were three attackers that stole her into a car. It's hard to track cars, but doable. I'm about to get to it when someone jumps down from a nearby rooftop. A young man I recognize from both the news and the coven's current head, who had warned us all about him and his cult.

Ticci Toby, whose real name is Tobias. What is he doing here? On seeing me, he draws his hatches and lunges, yelling about what I'd done to (Y/n) and flailing wildly. Dodging is easy, and with a flick of my wrist his feet are encased in the ground's cement.

"What's your connection to (Y/n)?" I demand.

He growls. "I'm-I'm not telling you shit!" He snaps.

Groaning, I kiss my finger tips and blow towards him, activating a spell that requires him to spill everything that might be useful and relevant to my question. Honesty is a good quality, but not common among such vermin.

"I'll ask again. What's your connection to (Y/n)?"

He tries to keep his jaw locked tight, but it doesn't last long. He spills it all in a single breath, surprisingly without a stutter. "I've been her boyfriend for a couple years now. She knows who I am and what I do and I know who she is and what she's capable of. She's been healing my wounds from more dangerous and tricky missions since I attempted to kill her, our first meeting. She stopped me with a curse that both silenced me and kept me from hurting anyone for the rest of the night. After that, I made her my assistant. I didn't mean to get so close to her, but I did anyways." He finishes with a violent crack and deep breath, obviously fuming with the information he let out.

With a breath, I relax again. Waving my hand releases him from both the truth spell and the grip on his feet. He seems calmer as well, pointing he blade at me and coolly demanding the same question I gave him. "You're ob-obviously a witch. Are you her friend or-or what?"

"I was her mentor. I taught her control, but that's about it." I tell him, pulling out my e-book of spells, skimming to find one for easy tracking. I grumble, noting it needs a viable sample of DNA. I look at him. "Does she have any of your DNA inside her?" I ask, not bothering to layer it with any foreplay. I believe straight honesty, unmasked by pleasantries to be the best approach to anything.

He pauses, not seeming overly shocked by my question. "No. Why?"

"I need something to track." I mutter, walking over to the spot of blood. It's mostly dry, but that's an easy fix. I take some up with my finger, licking it and spit it out. "This is her blood..." Growling, I make the small design out of what there is. It flashes before disappearing.

"That did-didn't do anything. And how do you kno-ow what her blood tastes like?" He grips his hatchet, glaring at me through his yellowed lenses.

"I'm good at tracking and identification. I always have been. I could like a strand of someone's hair I only caught a glance of when I was a baby and remember exactly who they were to me and where I might be able to find them." I explain, standing up, spinning in a quick circle with one foot extended to kick up dust. "(Y/n) is still barely a novice. She has no idea the kind of damage a witch like her can cause." A twist of my toe brings a light breeze to waft the dust towards the path. The outline of her being picked up, thrown over a man's shoulder and pitched into the trunk of a car reveal themselves to me.

I grit my teeth at seeing such treatment for one of my kind, especially one I trained and took care of. But they aren't Witch Triers. Those monsters would've killed her on the spot. An off-brand of them? A minor branch that kidnaps and experiments or tortures certain witches? If that's the case, do they know her lineage and what her family is renowned in our world for? Or are they a two-bit group with base knowledge and desperate for extra power?

"And what is-is her specialty?" Toby asks, watching the car drive out of sight.

That's one thing I love about my capabilities. Everyone can see the ghosts if there's something to outline them, like dust or leaves of even paper.

I smile. "Didn't she tell you about her father? She's a Plague Doctor." I step onto the street, catching the taillights move to turn before the dust crumbles away.

Toby pauses. "But she-she heals better then she fights."

I cock an eyebrow. "Is that right? Have you seen her fight? The way she can summon something that inflicts an excruciating death on any victim with such ease?" He pauses, obviously remembering something. "She hates that it comes naturally, because it resulted in someone she loved being hurt. That's why she doesn't use magic as much as she should. And why she works harder to heal then anything else."

He looks like he wants to say something, but shakes his head clear. "Alright, witch. What do we ne-ed to find her?"

"A disposable, small, inconspicuous car. And I need energy drinks. Lots of them."

From what I can tell, the trail goes pretty far away. It's going to drain me to keep this spell going until we get to her. But I think I can use this psychopath, at least for now. It'll make it easier for me to keep the outline visible to us if he's the one focusing on following it.

He steps away, pulling his phone out and ringing up a number. The voice on the other end belongs the Masky, aka Tim. His associate in crime. I hate myself for having to interact with such horrible people, but he obviously really, truly cares about her. So we're going to put our differences and prejudices aside to find her.

"My friend is going to joi-join us. Safety in numbers. And I don't do-do so well behind the wheel." He tells me.

"That's right. You're entire story starts with the crash and death of your older sister." I recall, watching him lodge an axe into a brick wall. Impressive. "That's a shame. She seemed to be a wonderful person."

He sighs, sheathing his blade again. "Yeah. She was the be-st." The killer shakes his head. "But she's not the issue ri-right now."