Spell Maven Mysteries- The Complete Series

by J L Collins

  Picking our way through the forest seemed to take forever, and by the time we managed to find the old green jeep, the sky was glittering with thousands of bright pinpricks of light. For a moment I had a minor little freak out and wanted to rush her back to the house so she could get enough sleep. But since it was summer, I calmed down and eased the keys out of my pocket, ready to pass out in my own bed. Between the reunion with my family, the trip into town, and meeting Gentry, I had enough on my mind.

  I hit the high-beams and took off. Out of the corner of my eye I was surprised to see that Fiona-Leigh was still up, even though her head was propped up in her hand, her elbow set on the passenger door.

  There were a million and one things I wanted to say to her—all of them beginning with the most pathetic apology known to man. But when Fi reached forward to turn on the radio, I let the words slip right out of my head and hummed along with the music.

  I hardly remembered even waking up, but the smell of warm syrup must have been what brought me to. I scratched my head, shocked to see the bags under my eyes in the mirror as I walked by. Did I really have to look like I’d aged overnight? I mean, really?

  “Morning,” I yawned, shuffling into the kitchen. Jax nipped at my feet, his tail steadily wagging as I reached down to pat his furry head. “Hey big guy.”

  “Good gorgon’s eye, what did you get into last night?” Oisín asked, slipping easily up on top of the table. “Hopefully not something too illegal.”

  “Since when do you care about what’s illegal? And thanks for the vote of confidence, Osh. Very kind of you to remark on how I look.”

  Fiona-Leigh sat down across from him, shoving a bowl of something white under his nose. “Drink up.”

  The cat’s pupils turned round as he bent down and licked at the milk, before he coughed loudly. “Are you trying to poison me, child? What is this abomination?”

  But she just rolled her eyes and ran her hand along his silky back. “Give it another try, Osh. It’s still milk. Only this kind is made from almonds. You can’t have too much of it, but I figured it would be a nice little treat for you.”

  He huffed and pushed the bowl away, settling back on his haunches. “I’ll think about it,” he finally sniffed.

  “So,” I began, taking the moment to catch her off guard. “Maybe now would be a good time to have a talk.” Fiona-Leigh watched as I took a seat at the table carrying my mug of coffee. “Thank you for making me some, by the way,” I added, holding it up.

  “You’re sorry you never told me about you being a Witch. You thought it was better this way. You didn’t want me to feel bad or whatever about myself, and now you want to focus on finding your lost brother.” She sipped at her own mug of coffee—three creams and a sugar. “Am I close?”

  I reached out to place my hand over hers and squeezed it. “I know that all sounds cliché, but yes, honey. I really did think it was the best thing for you.”

  She was quiet for a while, mulling it over while finishing off her mug. “I guess I get it. I’m still pretty mad about it, though. And I can’t guarantee that will go away anytime soon.” She didn’t meet my eyes, but her hand twitched as she stroked the outside of mine with her finger. “Just being honest.”

  It broke my heart, but just like she said, I got it. “Okay. I’ll work with that.”

  It certainly made the rest of breakfast less awkward, especially when the subject of what was going to happen next came up. I’d thought about it and I still wasn’t certain I wanted Fiona-Leigh in Spell Haven with a killer on the loose.

  “So you’re going to work with this random dude? Do you know anything about him?”

  I buttered some toast at the counter, shaking my head. “Not really. He seems like a real gem, I’ll tell you though. Total jerk, right off the bat. It just figures Uncle Gardner has the guy stuck to me through all of this. It couldn’t have been any of the Shadow Hands I knew or anything,” I grumbled. I hated the idea of working with someone to begin with, but Gentry Whitemourn was the exact opposite kind of person I was willing to give the benefit of the doubt.

  “Sounds like a catch,” Oisín purred from the floor, having just finished off the last of his almond milk with a loud burp. “Wish I could’ve seen the look on your face when he was in Gardner’s office. His right hand man, is he? That must’ve been a shock.”

  “Why’s that?” Fiona-Leigh questioned. “What do you mean?”

  Oisín delicately licked at his paw before rubbing it behind his ear, his great yellow eyes widening. “Generally speaking, the Shadow Hand at the right hand of the Inquisitor is the next in line. So should something happen to Gardner . . .”

  “Osh! Don’t talk like that!” I hissed at him.

  “ . . . Then pretty boy would be in charge of the whole force. Just your usual command line, at least.”

  I shook my head, wishing not for the first time, that Oisín had taken up residence with Bedelia instead. But the two of them fought like cats and dogs, no pun intended.

  “You know, I really like Erie,” Fiona-Leigh said, going for the quick change of subject much to my relief. “I can see how the two of you were really close.”

  Smiling, I sank down at the table with my plate of toast. “She and I got along fabulously. She was like the big sister I never had. Which is funny, because her two older sisters hardly paid us any attention. It was like we were in our own little world whenever we were together.”

  “She took me to the Menagerie . . .” It was like watching a flower bloom in real time, seeing the way her eyes lit up. “And Mom, holy cow. It was amazing.”

  “Oh, yeah? What did the two of you end up doing?”

  She rehashed the tour Erie had given her, starting with the Menagerie’s unhatched dragon eggs, all the way up to the young unicorn they’d just rescued from the Dark Isle. All the while, Fiona-Leigh barely took a long enough breath in before going right into the next creature.

  “But it was so weird, though, because she kept telling me how cows were like a rare species there. Can you imagine that? We see them all over the place when we’re driving outside of Midnight Pitch!” she laughed. The sound of it settled my nerves even more until even I was laughing.

  “No kidding. So imagine how surprised I was when I first got here and nearly ran smack-into a whole farm of them up the road. I remember how all I could think of was how much I wished Erie was there with me to see them.”

  “Yeah, it was cool hanging out with her. I can’t believe she doesn’t have any kids—she’d be one of those super chill moms, I bet,” Fiona-Leigh replied, pushing a lock of red behind her ear. “You know what I mean,” she quickly added when I rolled my eyes.

  “Mm-hm. I know what you mean. You mean that I’m one of the lame moms who actually give a crap about their kids. How very tragic.”

  “No, I mean like how she’s so go with the flow about things. She said that was her thing, and your thing was to be on top of everything, all the time. Sounds about right, if you ask me. I guess I’m not too surprised at some of the stuff. Erie also can make a mean crepe.”

  I laughed. “Whereas my crepes are . . .”

  “Total crap,” she answered casually.

  “Hey! I wouldn’t go that far. They’re not that bad. Are they? No, wait. Don’t answer that,” I waved my arms up in surrender as Fiona-Leigh stared me down with her thin eyebrows cocked.

  “I do miss real food,” Oisín announced before walking back into the kitchen. “And a dinner from Erie never disappoints.”

  Fiona-Leigh bounced up on the balls of her feet. “Why don’t you come with us tomorrow? You can go to your five-hundredth year high school reunion, even!” she added with a wink. Oisín blinked at her slowly. I half-expected him to throw in a slow clap at the end.

  “Dear Fiona-Leigh, I’ll have you know that we did not have high schools back in my day. And I am not a day over five-hundred and seventy-five.”

  I let out a low whistle. “Man, Osh, even I didn’t know you were th
at old. Are you for real?”

  He stuck his little nose in the air, his long whiskers trembling. “While the idea of no longer being stuck in the same house as that flea-bitten mongrel sounds appealing . . . I think I’ll have to pass on the invite,” Oisín said, totally ignoring my comment. His fluffy tail swished from side to side. “Maybe next time.”

  I shrugged. “Well, the offer still stands. I’m sure you’ll start itching to join us before you realize it.”

  But Oisín just snorted, the sound rather comical coming from a cat. “If I start itching, the dog will be to blame.”

  14

  The Stowaway

  The next morning didn’t bring much peace from Fiona-Leigh’s pestering. Even though I’d brought her along with me to Spell Haven, it was only to make sure someone was able to keep an eye on her. “But I could help!”

  Fiona-Leigh eyes narrowed at me. “You’re being so unfair right now. Just because I don’t have any powers like you.”

  “Yup, you got me. Call me crazy, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be part of an official magical police investigation.” I immediately regretted saying it because I already knew where she was going to steer the conversation.

  “Right. The same magical police investigation that you yourself aren’t officially a part of?” When she stood with her hand on her small hip, hanging on to the only real, fair point she had, it reminded me of someone I knew.

  I sighed. “Fi. C’mon. While I may not be throwing on a badge and joining up with MARC to put together the murder case, I will be checking out some places and people I’d rather you stay away from. I’m not saying I couldn’t use your brain, or that you aren’t smart enough to come with. I just want you safe—is that so much to ask?”

  Fiona-Leigh had a pretty good head on her shoulders, but I knew she was struggling between wanting to be a part of what was happening—my concern be damned—and reluctantly obeying. Ever since the truth about my family came out, it was anyone’s guess as to which one she’d pick.

  Low heels clicked across the stone floor as Aunt Ginevra made her way into the parlor. “Gardner’s just spoken with Gentry. He’s on his way.”

  “Woo-hoo,” I said, twirling my finger around in the air. “Fun to be had by all.”

  Aunt Ginevra just shook her head at me, but Fiona-Leigh’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. “What’s all that about? Did I miss something?”

  I hadn’t really had the chance to explain my uncle’s vexing second-in-command. “He works with Uncle Gardner. And he’ll be helping me. Sorta. Maybe.”

  This was not going to satisfy her in the slightest. Fiona-Leigh raised a brow at me. “Uh-huh. And is Gentry Whitemourn going with you today?”

  I nodded.

  She copied me, gnawing on her lip. “And I’ll get to meet him?”

  Grinding my teeth, I looked between her and Aunt Ginevra. “I suppose you will, yes. But we’re not going to be hanging around here for very long. We have things to do—I have things to do, rather. He . . . Can go jump off Misty Tree Bridge, for all I care,” I replied, a little ashamed at how childish I sounded. “What?”

  There was no mistaking the smile that was threatening to spread across Aunt Ginny’s face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  The sound of the heavy front doors opening startled me, and I tried to relax the weird twitch in my eye and prepare for the next few sure-to-be-aggravating hours. I just needed to stay focused on the task at hand. My fingers idled over the wand hidden in one of the many pockets in the cloak I was wearing, itching to get started.

  Was it weird that I could feel his presence before I saw him? Almost like tasting the rain before a storm rolled in. I knew I was just letting him get to me, so I recalled my favorite heart-rate calming trigger and pressed my thumbs to my index and middle fingers behind my back. My shoulders immediately relaxed right as Gentry walked into the parlor with an easy stride.

  “Hello, Gentry,” Aunt Ginny beamed up at him.

  He gave a little bow toward her. “Good morning, Mrs. Brady. I saw that your calendulas are coming in nicely around the front windows.”

  This of course, earned a hug from her. “You are too sweet, lad. I thought they were looking fine, myself.”

  His eyes drifted over to me.

  “Gentry,” I simply said, keeping all emotion in check.

  “Brady.” He managed to keep the smirk off his face this time. “I trust that you’re ready to head on over to headquarters?”

  “I am. And from there, we’ll be starting at the beginning. Where the murder took place.” Next to me, Fiona-Leigh slid her arm inside my cloak and around my waist—something she rarely ever did. When I looked at her I noticed her cheeks were much pinker than usual. Her freckles seemed muddy in comparison.

  “This is my daughter, Fiona-Leigh,” I explained. “Honey, this is Gentry Whitemourn.”

  To his credit, Gentry gave another little bow to her, his tousled brown hair falling into his eyes as he looked back up at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Fiona-Leigh. How are you liking Spell Haven?”

  I could almost hear her heart skip a beat.

  “Um, it’s cool. I—uh, like the animals.” Her cheeks went from pink to red.

  He nodded. “We do have some magnificent creatures here. I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your mother for a little while.”

  I was a good girl and kept from letting my eyes roll back in my head, but it was clear he had her eating out of the palm of his hand. She could talk for hours about bringing down the patriarchy all she wanted, but there was no accounting for being smitten with an older man, it seemed. Not that Gentry was old, just old for her. If I had to guess, he was probably four or five years younger than me. At least thirty, for sure.

  “We better get to it,” I finally said, leaning in to hug Fiona-Leigh before letting go. “Please listen, okay? And don’t go snooping around the manor. It’s a lot bigger than it looks, believe me.”

  Gentry moved aside and let me pass between him and one of the antique cream-colored chaises. “After you.”

  The carriage transport was idling in the circular drive, missing a driver. It was one of the MARC’s own extended carriages with four rows to fit plenty of people. I’d taken Fiona-Leigh to Atlanta with me one time for a work-related thing and man, if only they had known about these things. The traffic alone, had been enough for me to swear off ever going in my boss’s place again.

  Pulling my cloak tighter around myself as the wind blew, I yanked open the door and ignored the way Gentry tried to catch my eye from the other side.

  I hated the idea of having to make small talk with him, so I figured it was best to just get into the vehicle and get to the MARC building with as little talking as possible.

  “Do you know where to go once we’re briefed at headquarters?” I asked him as soon as we were both inside.

  The wind was really knocking the carriage around, so much so that the back door blew wide open before he mumbled the incantation and we began to move. “Yes. I was the one who headed the initial crime scene investigation.” The side-eye he was giving me could’ve burned holes in a dragon’s hide.

  I let his gruff reply go with a shrug, considering I forgot about reading that in the file. “Onward and upward, I guess.”

  Unlike my vain attempt to get the transport going on the way to the MARC headquarters last time, the carriage ride was practically bump-free. I had to remind myself that this was every-day life for Gentry so of course it was so effortless for him, while I had been forced to learn how to drive cars in the Human Realm — my rusty old green Jeep included.

  “So, did you read the file?”

  I pursed my lips together. “Yes.”

  “I just wanted to be sure. Since you didn’t seem to realize that part about me heading the initial —”

  “— I’ve read that part,” I snapped. “And we really, really don’t have to do this. We can handle looking for Tristan without having to talk much to each
other. In fact, I would prefer it.”

  I could’ve sworn he snickered, but Gentry held his hands up in defense, the wheel steering itself as he let go. “Hey, if that’s how you want to do things. You won’t hear me complain.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and looked out the window. How hard would it be to get Uncle Gardner to see reason? Maybe if he saw that it didn’t make any sense for the two of us to work together, he might just pull pretty-boy from helping me. One could only hope.

  The rest of the ride was quite silent, thankfully.

  Overhead, the sky was patterned in fluffy white clouds with the sunlight threading gold around them. Another beautiful day in Spell Haven, despite the gusts. The Fae must be in good spirits with us here, lately. You can always tell when one of the higher-ups in the Fae royal court were having a spat with a Witch—there’d be beautiful weather one minute and lightning storms and hail the size of golf-balls, the next. And not just any hail, because that would be too easy. No, I’m talking magical hail. The last time I was here for an incident like that, everyone who came in contact with the hail suddenly had hair sprouting all over their body that made them look like werewolves in desperate need of a good grooming.

  The Fae had a pretty interesting sense of humor.

  The differences between the bustling town of Spell Haven and sleepy Midnight Pitch are enough to write a whole book about, but if there’s one thing I missed the most about my hometown, it was how convenient magic can be. While there were still plenty of people hawking their wares in the main town square, you had other options, too.

  There were menus full of items you could buy without having to do much more than lift a wand, at least if you were an Alchemist like me. All you’d have to do was flip through the Weekly Magiczine, tap your wand on a picture of whatever you were wanting to buy, and it would tally up your total. You could even order delivery—something the local vampires in town were huge fans of.

  The closest thing I had to that kind of service back home was Pizza Hut.