Captive Souls Read online

  Captive Souls

  Witches of Palmetto Point Book 7

  Wendy Wang

  Copyright © 2019 by Wendy Wang

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  v1.o 5.6.19

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  Just wanted to thank my usual crew if writers, editors and cover artists who help me make this all happen through their support and endless word sprints. RA, Vicki, Gwen, Helen and my awesome cover designer Silviya at Dark Imaginarium Book Covers.

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  32. Chapter 32

  33. Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 1

  Keeley Moore sat on the dank floor hugging her knees to her chest. The chill from the concrete seeped through her yoga pants making her shiver. The one called Jacob had taken away the thin mattress and covers as punishment for trying to escape again. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms and closed her eyes. Water dripped somewhere in the walls, but she could never find the source. That drip, drip, drip drove her crazy at first. Like the sound of a clock ticking too loudly. But now it comforted her. If she could hear it, it meant she was still alive. The others, she feared, were not so lucky.

  Sometimes she heard crying outside the tiny cell of a room where they kept her. Sometimes she heard voices too. Small voices. Kid voices. Like her own. But their crying never lasted long. Nor did the begging or whining. The one called Rudy made sure of that. He’d almost snapped her arm in two just for humming quietly to herself. She didn’t know what he did with the others. Didn’t really want to know. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew their silence was a bad thing. But she didn’t like to think about that, and it was easy to push it out of her head. For now.

  The only reason she was still alive was because of the one called Jacob. He took her one hot summer night on the way to the bathhouse at the campground where she was staying with her parents. He said he would kill them in their tent if she screamed. Something in his eyes told her to believe him, so she’d gone quietly. Sometimes she fantasized about how things might have ended differently if she’d just kicked him in the shins, screamed her head off and ran. It left a sick feeling in her belly to think about it too much.

  Music always made being here better, even if it was just inside her head. Keeley closed her eyes and rocked back and forth. She could hear the notes drifting through her mind. Her dry, chapped lips moved, but no sounds came out of her mouth.

  “This Little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. This Little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.”

  It was her favorite song. The first one she ever remembered learning. And when she sang it, she imagined her heart filled with light, growing brighter and brighter until it burst the tip top of her head. It warmed her body to sing that song even if she couldn't do it out loud.

  The sound of keys clanking against the metal door of her room made her bite her lips together. The door swung open with a squeal and she cringed. A tall , form blocked part of the dim light shining in the hall. She'd come to recognize his silhouette before he spoke a word. Jacob. He wasn't old, at least not the same way Rudy was old. He reminded her of her best friend's older brother, Michael. Michael was eighteen. Jacob didn't look much older than that.

  “It's time to see what you can do, Keeley. I've protected you as long as I can,” Jacob said. Keeley squeezed her eyes shut and held on to the light filling her chest. She rocked harder, and the words she'd been singing shifted from silent mouthing to froggy whisper.

  “Stop singing that,” Jacob said. He rushed at her, and yanked her by the arm to her feet. Keeley let her knees go soft and fell hard onto the concrete floor. She laid back and let her body go limp. If he wanted her, he would have to carry her. Like a two-year-old.

  “Stop it, Keeley.” He jerked her up to sitting. Her head whipped backward and forward making her neck ache. “I'm serious. Do you want me to get Rudy? Because I will.”

  She stopped fighting. That was a serious threat. There was something soft about Jacob. He talked to her differently most of the time. But Rudy. He talked to her like she was a thing. Not even human. He never called her by her name. Just barked orders at her.

  “I didn't think so,” Jacob said. “Now get to your feet.”

  Slowly, she scraped herself off the floor, and he took her from her cell, slamming the door behind them.

  Charlie Payne opened her eyes and stared at the plank ceiling of her living room. She lay on her back inside a circle of crystals and candles. The heady aroma of Nag Champa incense floated through the air giving her a slight headache. She pushed up onto her elbows then to a sitting position. In the kitchen, she heard Tom rattling some pans around. When she rose to her feet he stepped into her line of sight.

  “How’d it go?” he asked.

  Charlie frowned and shook her head. “I didn’t get any further than all the times before.”

  A reassuring smile spread across his handsome face. “You will. I know you will.”

  “I wish I had your confidence. Right now the connection with her is this thin silver cord that feels like it could break so easily if I push too hard to see more.” She walked into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. “So what are you cooking?”

  “One of my favorite things in the world. I’m hoping you’ll love it too.” He backed away from the stove and turned so he was facing her. His arms slipped around her pulling her close.

  She let out a high nervous laugh. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “When I first started wearing a human face about three hundred years ago, I had this pie. So incredibly delicious.”

  “What kind of pie,” Charlie said warily.

  “Squab pie, with wild mushrooms,” he said.

  Charlie wrinkled her nose. “Squab? Isn’t that pigeon?”

  “Yes, but not the city pigeon you’re thinking of. Squab is delightfully plump and tasty. I picked some up the last time I went to D.C. for a conference and put them in the freezer.”

  “Oh, well that’s kind of sweet that you’re sharing it with me.”

  He hugged her tight and kissed her on the forehead. “There’s no one I’d rather share it with.”

  “It does smell delicious.” She squeezed her arms around his waist and a smile lit up the face she turned up to him. “I’m going to clean up my casting circle and then we can eat. How about that?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Chapter 2

  The email in everyone's mailbox caused worried chatter among the employees of Belcom Credit Union. Charlie had been waiting for it. Kaylee, one of the supervisors of her call center, had asked her for an impromptu reading about a job interview last month. Kaylee had sworn her to secrecy, and even though Charlie knew the email meant bad news, at least after the meeting she could finally talk about it. She needed to figure out what she was going to do. The email requested everyone attend an all hands on deck meeting in the large break room, the only space big enough to accommodate the one-hundred-and-twenty-five call center employees. At 3:45 PM, the call center phones were switched over to the voice message system. The quiet struck Charlie as odd once everyone logged out of their phones, as though a No Talking sign guided them making their way through the building to the break room.

  The supervisors had already folded some of the tables and leaned them against a back wall. Extra chairs had been brought in and set up in straight rows facing away from the wall of refrigerators, snack machines and microwaves.

  Charlie took a seat near the front. She hugged her purse against her body and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. She could still feel them looking at her, wondering if she knew something. The anxiety in the room was palpable and pressed against her from all sides.

  “Hey, Charlie,” a familiar voice said. “Mind if I sit with you?”

  Charlie looked up to find Brian. He sat at the desk next to her and even though they were working different schedules right now, they were very friendly toward each other. Charlie smiled, relieved to see the welcoming face.

  “Of, course,” she said.

  “So what do you think this is about?” he asked.

  “I don't know,” she said. She hated lying to him. “But I don't think it's good news.”

  “Probably not.” He glanced around. “The supervisors are conspicuously absent. I mean I may just be paranoid but—”

  “I don't think you’re paranoid.” She swallowed hard.


  “Yeah, I don't either.” He chuckled, and it made her feel better because Brian actually was a little paranoid. He studied survivalist techniques and called himself a prepper. There had been way too many conversations between them about the end of the world, as they knew it.

  At 4 PM sharp the director of the call center walked in followed by a line of managers and supervisors and HR representatives. Charlie's stomach sank like a cold rock.

  Brad Furman held his hands up. “Good afternoon. I know this is some of y'all's day off and some of y'all are scheduled to leave about now so we really appreciate you being here. I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  A soft groan went through the room. Charlie bowed her head and closed her eyes. Furman continued, “I know there’ve been rumors going around, and I'm just here to put those to rest. The call center will be moving out of the States. Your supervisory team will be working closely with HR to ensure that every person has an opportunity to interview for other positions within the company. We’ll also be approving PTO outside of the normal scheduling for people to interview with other companies. Anyone who chooses to pursue other opportunities outside of the company, though, will not be granted a severance. Those who stay with us until we close will have severance packages based on your tenure with us. The supervisors will be setting up meetings over the next couple of weeks to go over your opportunities. I'm gonna hand this over to the senior manager of the call center, Joan, so she can answer any practical questions for you.”

  Joan stepped up and fielded questions like a pro. Charlie tuned out. She couldn't wait to get out of there. She didn't care that the transition period would go until March 30. She didn't care about the availability of Cobra. She couldn't afford it anyway. The rock in her belly flipped over and over. Joan’s voice buzzed in her ears. A pesky mosquito hungry for her attention. What was she going to do? Ben Sutton had mentioned the Defenders of Light to her, had told her they would scoop her up for her psychic abilities in a skinny minute. But she didn’t know much about them, other than they policed witches. And though she liked helping Deputy Jason Tate solve his cases, she didn’t want to be an enforcer. Not like Ben was. Plus, Ben traveled all the time. How could she travel so much when she had a thirteen-year-old son who still depended on her?

  Finally, Joan stopped talking, and the questions stopped coming. The energy in the room shifted from apprehensive to alarmed. Chairs scraped across the floor and through her frayed nerves.

  “You okay?” Brian asked.

  Charlie opened her eyes and looked into his kind face. She nodded as though she were about to tell the truth. “I’m fine. How about you?”

  He shrugged his shoulder. “I figured something was coming. The rumor mill has been grinding pretty hard lately.”

  “Yeah, it has.” Charlie glanced around the break room. One of her co-workers, Tomeka Fowler, waited quietly by the door, shyly fingering one of her long, black braids. Her dark eyes met Charlie’s. She knew that look and could feel the questions rolling off Tomeka. Sometimes being an empath made Charlie’s life so much harder than she liked to admit. Tomeka wanted information. Answers. And Charlie didn’t have a clue at the moment.

  “I better go get clocked in. I don’t need a tardy on my record if I’m applying for other jobs in-house.” Brian rose to his feet.

  “See ya later.” Charlie smiled up at him and watched him walk away before shifting her gaze back to Tomeka, offering a sheepish smile and a wave. Charlie got to her feet and approached the door with trepidation.

  “Hey, Tomeka,” Charlie said.

  “Hey.” Tomeka cocked her head. “You're off for the day now, right?”

  Charlie nodded. “I am.”

  “Any chance I could buy you a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure,” Charlie said. She glanced around and lowered her voice. “But just so you know, I’m just as stunned as you are. And that makes it hard to focus if you're asking what I think you're asking.”

  “That's fair. And I'm not really asking what you think I'm asking.” Tomeka grinned.

  Charlie smiled. “Now I'm intrigued.”

  “Good. Let's go get that coffee.”

  Jason Tate hung up the phone and put his head in his hands. His fingers dug into his scalp trying to break the tension that stretched from his forehead to the base of his neck.

  “Got a headache?” Marshall Beck leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on his desk.

  “Something like that,” Jason said. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair one last time and then reached into his desk drawer for a bottle of Ibuprofen. He shook two blue gel caps into his hand, then swallowed them back with a sip of water from the bottle on his desk. He returned the bottle of meds to his drawer and turned to his partner, his gut rigid as a washboard now. “I just finished re-interviewing the last witness in the Keeley Moore case. Well, not exactly the last. There's one witness I can't find. Phone number’s disconnected.”

  “That's kinda interesting. Do you have an address?” Beck asked.

  “Just a PO Box. One of those mailbox places. I called them yesterday, and they won't release information on their customers without a warrant,” Jason said.

  Beck placed his fingers behind his head and leaned back further in his chair. “Figures.”

  “They're also in Charlotte,” Jason said.

  Beck sniffed. “You know what might be worth a shot? You could get your FBI buddy from Columbia there to ride up with you, and maybe he could put the fear of God into them. Then you could swoop in and save the day. You know, appeal to their better angels. Helping you with the case of a missing girl. He's not a suspect. But he is a witness. A vital witness. Lay it on thick.”

  “That might work. I'll give Cameron a call.” Jason eyed his partner suspiciously. “And what are you gonna do?”

  “I was thinking I could ride up there with you. Might be good to get out of the office.” Beck said.

  Jason scowled. “Uh-huh.”

  “Plus there's a restaurant up there that I was thinking about checking out. Y'all are welcome to come with.”

  “How generous of you.” Jason rolled his eyes.

  “Just the kind of guy I am.”

  Jason balled up a piece of paper from the notepad on his desk and threw it at Beck's head. It nicked him where his brow bone met his temple.

  Beck rubbed at his face. “Hey! Are you trying to put my eye out?”

  “If I was gonna put your eye out, I’d use a better weapon,” Jason quipped. He got to his feet and grabbed his jacket hanging from the back of his chair. “I'm outta here. And if all you can think about is your stomach, then maybe you should just stay here tomorrow.”

  “Fine by me. I’ve got plenty of other things to do,” Beck said. “Tell Lisa I said hello.”

  “Sure thing,” Jason said, flipping off his partner and walking away.

  Jason rapped his knuckles against the door jamb of Lisa Holloway's office. She looked up at him with a startled glance.

  “I didn't mean to scare you,” he said.

  “You didn't,” she said. She sat up and stretched her back. “What time is it?”

  “Almost six thirty. You hungry?” he asked.

  “A little bit. I had a late lunch. Did you have something in mind Deputy Tate?” Her lips twisted into a wry grin.

  “Maybe. I was thinking about getting Chinese takeout and going back to your apartment. For little Netflix and chill,” he said.

  “Were you now? I was thinking about taking a hot shower, putting on my pajamas and reading in bed. Sans Netflix. Sans chill,” she said.

  “So, you're not up for little negotiation?” he asked.