Spell Maven Mysteries- The Complete Series

by J L Collins

  I leaned forward. Just picturing the look on Uncle Gardner’s face each time a guy like Enoch would slip through his fingers was sobering enough. “Okay. So the MARC knew that. Why didn’t they try to infiltrate and neutralize him?”

  “They tried. Didn’t work. Last I checked, there were at least four different Shadow Hands who got taken out in the process.”

  They were probably people I knew, too.

  “But that’s the thing. Being a Shadow Hand is like this big prestigious honor, right? You go through all that training and make it. Get the big ceremony and all the accolades after. A pretty public thing, you know?”

  I saw where he was going with this, stringing it together myself. “. . . So Enoch easily found out who was an agent and got rid of them. I can’t believe Uncle Gardner hadn’t thought that one through more.”

  Tristan shrugged. “You know how he is. Too proud to accept other’s suggestions. I never had the chance to tell him what I thought about it and what I thought I could do to help,” he let his voice trail off, looking miles away.

  “All right. So, no one could get in and stay in without tripping Enoch’s suspicions. Where do you come into all of this?”

  “I thought that was pretty obvious, but I guess not. I was already doing my thing in the Dark Market. Making connections, listening with one ear to the ground. I knew what was going on from the bits I heard here and there. And I knew there was a small group of them that were unhappy with the way Enoch was running the place. They didn’t think there was enough freedom given, and that he was basically kissing up to the MARC by appearing to obey the laws. They wanted a more ruthless leader, I guess.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” I sighed.

  “And he knew there was some dissent. He always had someone watching his back, just in case things got ugly. One person that really hated him though, was Delaney Drakar. And when her and her boyfriend had a big fallout in one of the main hubs of the market, it looked like they were on the verge of nearly killing one another. Enoch just happened to be there and saw the whole thing. He knew how much Delaney hated him and thought that it would be smart to use her ex-boyfriend against her. He pulled him into the inner-most circle and primed him to take her out.”

  Enoch didn’t sound like the kind of person I really should’ve been mourning, the more I thought about it. “He sounds like a breath of fresh air.”

  “I was already in the circle myself, so I saw the whole thing. Enoch thought he had it all covered, but really he had fallen into her trap. Delaney and her boyfriend didn’t actually break up. They staged the whole thing, knowing that Enoch was there and watching.”

  “And Enoch gave her the key to ruin him,” I finished for him. “I guess this time Delaney was one extra step ahead of him. But that still doesn’t explain how you got roped into this mess. Why were you there when he was murdered?”

  He was growing more visibly irritated by the second. “Because I thought playing hero was worth it. Enoch needed help with something and I volunteered, thinking I could get close enough to get the information the MARC needed on him to at least take out a search warrant. All I could think about was hurrying up with this self-imposed mission of mine because it was really cutting into my time with my girlfriend. It wasn’t me who murdered him though—it was Delaney’s guy. And since I happened to be in the wrong place and the wrong time, he pinned it on me. No one gave me the chance to explain before he was gone without a trace. Delaney was there in an instant and practically did me in herself, just to prove that she had nothing to do with Enoch’s murder.”

  My heart sank as I watched the corners of his mouth turn down. My hand hovered over his, but I hesitated and pulled back. “Playing a hero?”

  “Well, yeah. I joined up in an attempt to take him out from the inside. To make it to the point where no one else could, and then rightfully deliver him over to Uncle G. I knew if someone they even remotely suspected tried to do it, Enoch and his marketeers wouldn’t let them get far enough away to snitch on them. And me being the outcast son of a well-known family in Spell Haven made me the perfect candidate for Enoch’s undertaking.”

  My jaw dropped. “You? You were trying to get the information on him? Are you absolutely insane? That’s a great way to get yourself killed, you know!” Leave it up to Tristan to find the quickest and most painful way to an early death. But if he was telling the truth…

  “I’m not saying I had the most righteous motive ever, but I never laid a hand on Enoch. You know me—I’m not that kind of guy. And trust me, I know plenty of them. I’ve worked for them. With them, even. But there’s still a line I’m not willing to cross and that’s probably what got me in trouble with the Marketeers in the first place.”

  It was like I’d emerged from underwater to take a gulp of air, my chest felt so much lighter as the weight of my heavy thoughts surrounding Tristan lifted off of me. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear him say he wasn’t responsible for Enoch’s murder. Maybe there really had been some part of me that wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure—though I definitely believed him now.

  It was stupid, I knew it, but I couldn’t help it as the tears welled up in my eyes. I sniffled, quickly wiping at them.

  The usual grin of his slid into a softened, knowing look. “Look, Gwennie. I’m . . . I’m really sorry. I should have told you when I first went into hiding. I had every chance to and instead, I let you worry about me. You know, it’s funny because I try to do the right thing, and all it does is land me in a deeper grave.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  He shrugged. “It’s the truth. Just because it’s ugly doesn’t make it any less real. My name’s been on the list the moment I stepped foot into Enoch’s place. Now it’s just about trying to dodge the swing of the ax.”

  “No. It’s not real because no one is going to have the chance to hurt you, regardless. I won’t let them.” And I meant it with every part of me. The real truth was that even though his actions made me want to throttle him and lock him up for his own sake, I loved my brother deeply and I refused to accept his self-inflicted fate. Not without putting up a fight.

  Tristan sank into the sofa next to me, letting Jax investigate him by his usual method of sniffing him.

  “Ah. The boy is back. I don’t suppose you’ve got any of those sweet crisps on you, have you?”

  Oisín stood in between the kitchen and living room, his black, bushy tail flicking back and forth. There was an amused expression on his face that told me he was pleased to see Tristan despite his air of indifference.

  Tristan regarded him with the same amused look. “It’s good to see you, too, Osh. Remind me next time I’m hiding out in someone’s shed for weeks, to bring snacks.”

  All the food talk had my own stomach growling, and I stood up to stretch. “I’m going to go get us some sweet tea. Be right back.”

  “Sweet tea? Should I even ask?” he called out.

  Making sure he couldn’t see what exactly I was up to, I twirled my finger around until the pitcher of cold sweet tea flew out of the refrigerator and into my hand before I knew what I was doing. It seemed the pendant liked whatever magic I wanted to use with it, no matter how insignificant. I poured two glasses full and sent the pitcher zooming carefully back inside, turning to see that Tristan’s eyebrows were cocked funny. So much for that.

  There was no doubt in my mind that Tristan knew what the pendant was and maybe even how I got a hold of it, but the good thing about him was that he usually had the capability of sitting on things for a while before mentioning them.

  “So. Uncle G. He’s taking it pretty badly, isn’t he?”

  “I wouldn’t know. He’s not exactly very forthcoming with me anymore. But if I had to make an educated guess, then yes, probably. I don’t think he has even the slightest clue that you had plans to turn your information and contacts over to him. He believes you really went off the deep end.”

  Tristan let out a humorless laugh. “Of
course he does. But on the bright side—he bought it. So, there’s no reason to think that anyone suspects me of working for the MARC.”

  “Does that really matter, though? They think you killed Enoch. Isn’t that even worse?”

  He shook his head. “They take their loyalty very seriously in the Dark Market. They can understand the reasoning behind treachery to different bosses, but to the market as a whole? A snitch Witch doesn’t last long there.”

  He explained to me what his time working in the Dark Market was like, leaving out some key details I was sure, but it was his prerogative. I even mentioned my own recent adventure back into Spell Haven.

  “It sounds like we’ve both been pretty busy lately,” he mused, finishing up the last of his tea with relish.

  “If by lately, you mean the past fourteen years, then yes,” I laughed, settling back into the sofa more as I turned to face my brother full-on.

  As angry as I’d been, most of it had completely melted away until all I felt was relief that he was okay.

  32

  The Liar

  I shoved the plate toward Tristan. “Eat.”

  “What’s this? Some sort of . . . meat?” He eyed the BLT warily.

  “My dear brother, you have a lot to learn about this world. For example,” I said, pulling off a piece from my own sandwich, “this is bacon. What can I say about bacon? Only that it’s the most delicious thing ever. Go ahead and try some.” I waved the crispy bite around before tossing it into my mouth, instantly satisfied.

  “Did you just say bacon?” Oisín drawled as he jumped up on the kitchen counter, sniffing the air. “It’s truly a tragedy that Fi has banned meat in this household. I’ve missed it so.”

  “Careful not to get your paws all over the food, Osh,” I mumbled through another mouthful.

  Tristan glanced between the two of us and shrugged, holding the sandwich up to his stubbly face one more time to inspect it before finally taking a bite. He chewed slowly at first, but his eyes went wide, and I knew he understood.

  “Whoa. I don’t know what’s more shocking—how delicious this bacon is, or the fact that you cooked it.”

  Oisín snickered and swiped his paw at the remaining piece of bacon still on the plate.

  Pursing my lips together, I ignored them and bit into my sandwich.

  With everything still up in the air at the MARC headquarters, I wanted my brother to take a little bit of time to lie low before we showed up out of the blue. After all, I needed to get him all cleaned up and properly fed so that he looked a little less… suspect. Monday, at the latest, surely.

  Tristan nearly jumped out of his own skin when my phone went off beside him, the screen showing it was Henry calling from work. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as I answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Gwen? You certainly sound better than the last time we spoke,” Henry exclaimed heartily.

  Shoot. I forgot I was supposed to be terribly ill. “Uh, ahem. Yeah, I’m starting to um, feel better. It was a rough time.”

  “Your subtlety knows no bounds,” Oisín said before jumping back down from the counter.

  “What was that, Gwen?” Henry spoke into the phone even louder, as if maybe I was also going deaf along with whatever weird sickness my uncle’s secretary had drummed up for me with her magic.

  “Sorry,” I quickly replied, clearing my throat. “I said I’m surely ready to come back!”

  Henry chortled into the phone so loud that I had to pull it away from my ear. “That’s the spirit! Make sure to get in touch with Eileen to let her know when you’ll be coming back. You, er, do know when you’re coming back, right?”

  I hesitated to answer, looking at my brother. Who knew how long it was going to take to smooth things out at the MARC? But then again, that part was for him to do, not me. I needed to get back to work because we didn’t exactly own a money tree. “I think I’ll be all good to go by the middle of the week. You know, to make sure any lingering germs are history.”

  “Good to know, good to know. Then we’ll see you Wednesday. Take care of yourself, Gwen. I need my star photographer back in play!”

  We said our quick goodbyes and I hung up, heaving a sigh. “I feel like such a terrible person for lying to them about that. With my luck, I’ll end up really getting sick just to spite myself.”

  “You see, Tristan? You haven’t missed anything here at the Morality Police headquarters,” Oisín drawled, licking his paw. “She can’t even handle playing hooky from work.”

  The two of them chuckled like a couple of goofballs, partaking in the favorite old hobby—driving me crazy.

  The rest of the night was pretty much the same, with pizza from my favorite delivery place thrown in for good measure. I sure as heck didn’t want to chance Tristan and Oisín laughing me out of my kitchen over any attempts at a home-cooked dinner. He was entranced by stuffed crust pizza more than he had a right to be, and abruptly passed out on the couch, exhausted while I was still in the middle of reliving the time our parents took us to visit the countryside in another part of Danann. Since he’d already showered and cleaned himself up to the best of his ability, I left him quietly to sleep.

  With Tristan’s attention torn between a bowl of oatmeal and morning cartoons on the TV, I checked the clock on the wall.

  The front door banged open and sure enough, Fiona-Leigh was home right on time. She dropped her backpack into the chair and shuffled out of her flip-flops, promptly ignoring her newly-found uncle and instead, bending down to scratch a very excited Jax behind the ears.

  I noticed she still had on the pair of earrings. The small pit in forming in my stomach was going to have to wait until later to bring up my guilt—she was home and safe. That was all that mattered.

  “The prodigal child returns. I don’t suppose you already ate breakfast?” I asked her.

  “Pfft. You better believe it. Sully makes killer pancakes. The fluffy kind, too.”

  I watched her edge her way around the living room, still not addressing Tristan who was now fumbling with the remote. The personal injury lawyer on the TV suddenly got very loud and all three of us clapped our hands over our ears. Fiona-Leigh ran back into the living room and snatched the remote from Tristan, muting the TV before turning it off in a huff.

  “Sorry about that,” he mumbled.

  “Fluffy pancakes, huh? Sounds like he knows his way around the kitchen,” I finally replied, trying to ignore the awkward tension in the room.

  “Are we going to talk about what happened now?” Fiona-Leigh said as-a-matter-of-factly. “You were kind of a little distracted before when you first got back.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose. Although it doesn’t matter really now since he’s here and all.”

  “True.” She turned to look Tristan in the eye, frowning. “I know you’re my uncle or whatever, but I’ve literally never seen my mom so freaked out before. And Aunt Bedelia, too. I really like her. So not cool to treat your family like that. I hope you apologized before she let you sleep over.”

  “Fi! Remember that you’re speaking to an adult,” I warned.

  “It’s okay, Gwennie,” Tristan said softly, meeting my gaze.

  I didn’t think it was possible to see my brother shrink at a young girl’s words, but he did. His usual tanned complexion turned a burnished red underneath.

  He turned back to Fi. “You’re right. I haven’t exactly been acting like much of an adult lately. And I definitely shouldn’t have done what I did without letting our family know. Like you said—not cool.”

  Her face softened ever so slightly, but I knew she was just trying to figure out whether he was being genuine or not. As kind-hearted as Fiona-Leigh was, she was a great judge of character and knew immediately when someone was being untruthful.

  “Okay,” she said simply, lifting one shoulder. “Then I guess we’re good.”

  It was kind of cute watching the hopeful smile spring up on Tristan’s face without a hint of smugnes
s as she walked back over to me. “Okay.”

  “And how was your weekend with Marina? Other than the supposed ghost in the shed?”

  Jax’s nails clicked across the linoleum as he followed her into the kitchen. “It was fun. We swam a lot. And stayed up pretty late getting caught up on the latest season of The Bachelor.”

  “I’m surprised you even watch that show.”

  “We don’t watch it, watch it. We watch it to laugh at the whole thing. It’s beyond ridiculous how seriously these women on the show take it. And the rose ceremony? Oh my god, it’s hilarious! So cringe-worthy.” She poured herself a glass of sweet tea and gulped it down easily.

  “Anyway. What about you? Was your trip into Arcadia interesting?”

  I didn’t like the way she smirked when she said it.

  Tristan sidled into the kitchen, his interest piqued. “Arcadia? What were you doing there?”

  “Looking for you, obviously. I was reading up on the history of Danann while I was hanging out with Aunt Bedelia at the library last time and thought the Fae were pretty cool.”

  Oisín’s fluffy tail flicked behind from his spot on the floor. “You could say that. They’re ruthless and beautiful creatures who’ll tell you the most painful truths to your face. All while smiling and sipping from a tea cup. One minute they’re confessing their love for you, the next, you’re lying in a pool of your own blood. Don’t ever date a Fairy and then mention plans for world domination—and don’t ask me how I know,” he grumbled, cutting both Fiona-Leigh and Tristan off at the same time.

  “Gentry seemed to like Arcadia. But I guess that’s because he grew up there, right? Is that even normal, by the way? If they’re as rude as they sound, then isn’t it a little odd they practically raised a Witch?” Fiona-Leigh asked, rinsing out her glass before sitting down at the table.