Black Arts, White Craft (Black Hat Bureau Book 2)

by Hailey Edwards

  Except, she wouldn’t have erased them if she accepted him. In magicking away the reminder of what he was, she had taught him to hide a part of himself as well. I would have pointed it out, but the conscience I was growing in fits and starts warned me it was cruel and pointless. The past was past. The trick had served him well then and now. I had no right to accuse his mother of assassinating his self-acceptance.

  “You’re not abnormal.” I fisted his shirt. “You’re you.” I flicked my attention back to his horns. “I like it.”

  “Thank you,” he rasped, his palm cupping my cheek. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

  By gesturing toward his horns, I avoided fielding his compliment. “Will you keep them?”

  “No.” He dipped his chin. “Without them, I can pretend, for a little while, that I’m someone else.”

  Halloween night came rushing back to me, along with his eagerness to dress up and trick-or-treat with us in town. I suspected then that he craved a sense of acceptance, of belonging, and this confirmed it as far as I was concerned. So, I didn’t push him the way I nudged Colby toward realizations colored by my past.

  I questioned if his unwillingness to accept himself had splintered his personality until he and his daemon were two separate entities sharing one body. But I was learning, slowly, to pull back when I sensed a tender spot and not to exploit it as I had been raised to do.

  The door swung open, and Clay stood there with a broom. “Everything good?”

  “Yep.” I noticed he had removed his wig to prevent ruining it. “How’s cleaning?”

  “As disgusting as you might expect.” He frowned at his ashy clothes. “We need to move to a hotel.”

  Human witnesses would cut down on the likelihood the black witch would send more zombies after us. I wasn’t a fan of courting discovery—this witch didn’t seem to care about the rules—but I was also tired and hungry and ready to palm my forehead for not considering an undead creature could slip past my wards.

  “Okay.” I eased past him. “I’ll start packing.”

  “I’ll call…” Asa pulled out his phone then paused. “Make that the Kellies.”

  Our backup was in the trash bags Clay was setting on the porch. Secondary teams often contained junior agents about to get their first taste of the life via cleaning up after primary teams. Poor suckers. I got the golden ticket on that front. Nepotism saved me from drudgework. Depending on how many agents were assigned to this area, we might have hours, or days to wait for help.

  “I’m almost done with the worst of it.” Clay sneezed into his shoulder. “I put Colby on hotel detail. She’s probably got something by now.” He called up to the loft. “Status report.”

  “Two suites booked at Rosemont Inn. They have a four-point-five-star rating, they’re thirty minutes from our present location, and they have high-speed internet.” She leaned over the edge. “Good enough?”

  “Perfect, Shorty.” He gave her a thumbs-up, and she returned to her computer. “She’s like having a personal Kelly on the team. She’s a wiz.” He lowered his voice. “She gets to feel like an active member of the team while keeping her out of immediate danger. It’s a win/win, am I right?”

  The idea of using her as tech support hadn’t occurred to me. It was brilliant. The best of both worlds.

  “How is she paying for that?” I’d had her memorize my credit card number for emergency purchases, but I hoped she wasn’t using it. The insurance money hadn’t come in yet, and shop repairs were draining my balance dry. “As you might recall, my shop hasn’t reopened yet, so money is tight.”

  “I gave her access to my black card.” He shrugged. “I’m not going to make you pay out of pocket.”

  Black Hat agents got black cards from a witch-owned bank on a private paranormal finance network. The funds weren’t limitless, but they did fit the company aesthetic.

  “Good.” I patted my hip. “There seems to be a hole in it.”

  Chuckling, Clay got back to work, and I pitched in with Asa to do the best we could without proper supplies.

  Since Colby had put on her headphones again, I texted her to tell her to pack it up, that she had an hour. Then I returned to my room to begin packing for the move to a—hopefully—more secure location.

  A foul sensation overtook me as I opened the door, and the spit dried in my mouth.

  On the bed, propped against the pillow, sat the Proctor grimoire.

  14

  The grimoire reclined against my pillow as if it had been given the best seat in the house, and chills tickled my spine like fingers of ice. Its power was a blight upon the air, a foulness I felt down to my toes. It hadn’t been this repellent to me when we were at home, but it was downright repugnant now.

  Reflecting on what Asa had told me, about the scent of my magic altering, I had a pretty good idea why.

  “Hey,” I called out, unable to wrench my gaze from the book. “Colby, can I see you for a minute?”

  Even unplugged from her game, she tended to listen to music in her downtime. She might not hear me.

  A crinkling noise filled the hall, and she hung a quick right into my room. “What’s up?”

  “Did you bring this with us?” I pointed out my pillow pal. “It’s okay if you did.”

  “No way.” Her recoil bumped her into the wall. “I hate that thing.”

  “Maybe don’t antagonize it,” I said out of the side of my mouth, “if it followed us here.”

  A sentient book of dark magic wasn’t anything we needed to insult or give agency. More agency.

  The commotion brought Clay to the door, and he noticed the book right off the bat.

  “I thought you left it.” He didn’t come into the room. “Did you have it warded or…?”

  “Obviously.” It must have hitchhiked in my suitcase to get past them. “Not cool, man. Not cool.”

  Drawn by the commotion, Asa drifted in and mulled over the problem with a pensive expression.

  “How did it get here?” Clay came in to help Colby wrestle a giant zip-top bag. “Don’t say magic.”

  “It moves around on its own when we’re at home. That’s why I keep it—” I bit my tongue so hard I tasted blood. I had almost mentioned my safe of horrors, which only Colby knew I kept. “I lock it up.”

  The slip didn’t go unnoticed by, well, anyone. But the book was the immediate problem.

  “We should have sensed it, but none of us did.” Asa pursed his lips. “This grimoire can cloak itself.”

  Learning it could stow away on adventures and camouflage itself from our senses?

  Big problem. Really big problem. Big with a capital B-I-G.

  “That’s not the best news I’ve ever heard.” Clay glared at it. “I don’t trust it appearing just as the zombie army announces it’s their target.”

  “Like to like,” Asa murmured. “Objects of power gain a sentience, given enough time. They want to be used. They want to wreak havoc. They seek out masters who will allow them to embrace their full potential.”

  A lightning strike of possibility hit me with such force, I staggered back a step, almost tripping.

  “What’s wrong?” Asa was there in a blink, cupping my elbow, steadying me. “Did the book hurt you?”

  “Colby has been hearing a voice. She says it’s magic, speaking to her.” I wanted to vomit thinking about it. “Our familiar bond is so new, I wasn’t sure if she was mistaking instinct for instruction or if her magic worked in an all-new way. I’m no expert on light magic, not by a long shot, but what if it was the grimoire whispering in her ear?”

  Colby recovered the fastest, and the spark of curiosity in her eyes did my stomach no favors.

  “The voice was nice, though.” Colby lit on my head. “The book isn’t.”

  “That’s how they get you.” Clay frowned at her. “Don’t try to talk to it and find out, okay?”

  “I won’t.” She nestled down on my head. “And I’ll let you know if it tries to talk to me.”


  “Good girl.” I reached up to scratch her fuzzy head. “Done packing?”

  “Almost.” She poked her legs into my scalp. “Someone called me away.”

  “Get back to it.” I anchored my hands on my hips. “I need to ward this before we leave.”

  With a glance back at the bed, she zipped off to the loft with her antennae quivering in thought.

  “She’s going to try to talk to the book.” I stated the obvious. “We need to keep an eye on her.”

  “She’s a kid,” Clay agreed. “Kids get curious.”

  “Can you ward it on your own?” Asa toyed with his earring. “There’s a chance, if you borrow from Colby, she can manipulate the magic.” He dropped his arm. “The grimoire must not be allowed to forge a bond with her.”

  “I’ll have to dig deep.” I rubbed my fingertips together. “I’ll need a spotter.”

  “I’ll do it.” Clay moved behind me. “I can’t let you do this alone, Dollface.”

  “Asa is here,” I pointed out. “I’m not alone.”

  “He’s as likely to use this opportunity to cop a feel as to protect you. He’s not a great multitasker.”

  The dig might have insulted someone who didn’t know Clay well enough to tell he meant no insult. He was indulging in a freak-out session. The book had him unnerved in a major way. That made two of us.

  “I’ll finish packing.” Asa eased from the room. “Call if you need help.”

  Reaching for my kit, I pulled out my small athame. “This is going to suck.”

  “How did it go?” Clay cut through my mutterings. “With the challenger?”

  The distraction from the book, and what it might be doing to Colby, was welcome.

  “That happens a lot?” I pulled the herbs required, sprinkled them around the book, careful to close the circle. “Does he ever just check a perimeter?”

  “It does, and he does.” He watched me work. “I was surprised he let you go with him.”

  Why I accepted that Clay took those threats to his partner lying down, I don’t know. “He won’t let you?”

  “I killed the first three I bumped into in the woods.” He chuckled. “Then I had to pay a blood price to their families, like the challengers weren’t going to die anyway. I mean, paternity aside, Ace is a beast. No one is going to take him out. You haven’t seen him fight until you’ve seen him in a free-for-all.”

  The vote of confidence buoyed me as I finished my preparations, until my brain snagged on that last detail. “You watch the challenges?”

  “Not only is it great entertainment,” he said haughtily, “but do you really think I would let my partner go into hostile territory alone?”

  “I wasn’t aware it was a spectator sport is all.”

  With a grimace, I sliced open my palm and christened the circle with blood. I pushed magic into it while I murmured the most powerful ward I could set on the spot with what I had on hand. The power zipped in a loop, enclosing the grimoire, and the oily sensation from the black magic snuffed out with a hiss of displeasure.

  “Well?” The room blurred around the edges, and I blinked to clear my vision. “Can you smell it?”

  “No.” He slapped me on the back. “You never cease to amaze, Dollface.”

  The weight of his hand was all it took to tip me forward into a fall that would have mashed my face into the newly warded grimoire had he not looped his thick arms around my waist then scooped me against him.

  “I’m a wimp.” My head lolled onto his chest. “Total…wimp…”

  “Hush.” He kissed my forehead. “You’re good people, Rue. You always have been.”

  Pretty sure that’s what he said, anyway. I couldn’t hold my eyes open another second.

  The air exploded from my lungs, and I blinked awake with sympathy for any dinosaurs who had attempted to sleep through a world-ending meteor shower.

  “Colby?” Asa flicked his gaze to the rearview mirror. “Are you all right?”

  “She’s fine,” I wheezed. “I caught her with my stomach rolls.”

  Beside me, Clay snorted out a laugh and scooped her off me. I pushed upright while the SUV cut in and out of lanes, and a hard bump jostled me. I banged my head on the ceiling and hurried to strap on my seat belt.

  “What’s wrong?” I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth to check for drool. “Do we have a flat?”

  “Ten points,” Colby crowed, pumping her fist. “You’re up to thirty.”

  “Points?” I leaned forward, noticing the crimson smears on the windshield. “Oh crap.”

  The headlights illuminated a staggering zombie congo line crossing the road ahead of us. There was no way to avoid them. They weren’t organized. They were tied together. With rope. Which made them that much worse as they pulled and tugged to get away from one another.

  “Any idea who they used to be?” I sat back, bracing for impact with a hand on the back of Asa’s seat. “They look human.”

  “That’s my guess.” Clay held Colby tight. “Easier to hunt and to reanimate.”

  “And there are a lot more of them.”

  The word disposable came to mind, but that was how black witches saw humans. As less than. Unworthy of notice. They put the human in human sacrifice. That was the only use black witches had for them.

  Tires screamed as Asa hit the brakes, and my head bounced off the window when he cut the wheel hard.

  “Ouch.” I rubbed my temple. “Anyone else feeling like Humpty Dumpty?”

  No wonder I had ended up with a gut full of moth. His evasive maneuvers had slung her into me.

  “Come here.” Clay gripped my elbow, hauled me as close as the seat belt allowed, then locked his strong arm around my shoulders to anchor me against his side. “You gotta protect that noggin, Dollface.”

  “You gotta crack a few eggs to make an omelet,” I said lamely, happy to use him as my shield.

  “I think you broke her,” he teased Asa on a laugh. “Colby, can you sense brain damage?”

  Her airy intake of breath wedged a blade in my heart, and I reached up for her.

  “He’s joking.” I snuggled down with her against his side. “I got my teeth rattled, but I’m fine.”

  “How far are we from town?” Clay settled in to brace us better. “We must be halfway there.”

  “Lights ahead.” Tension rode Asa’s voice as he worked to keep us on the road. “Won’t be long now.”

  “Who is crazy enough to throw zombies at us on the highway so close to town?”

  “Not crazy.” Clay squeezed me tighter. “Desperate.”

  A buzz in my pocket had me reaching for my cell and hoping momentum didn’t jerk it out of my hand.

  >>I shot a trespasser.

  “Oh no,” I breathed, recognizing the number. “Mrs. Gleason shot someone.”

  >On your land or on mine?

  >>Ha! With your police friends? Like I would tell you if it was on my land.

  “I have a funny feeling I live next to a graveyard.” I exhaled. “She is one hardcore lady.”

  >Where is he now?

  >>I lost sight of him. He ran mighty fast for someone with extra holes in his arse.

  >Thanks for the update. I owe you a month’s worth of tea.

  >>I’m your neighbor and your friend. You don’t owe me anything.

  A fist of emotion tightened around my throat, and I missed Samford like crazy.

  Without me realizing it, I had faked making it my home until it had become one.

  >>The Yard Birds are here to help me celebrate. I’ll let you know if I see him again. Or find his body.

  The Yard Birds were our neighbors, and a few of her friends. They were our unofficial neighborhood watch and met every Sunday after church. Usually, they drank their weight in margaritas and ended up passed out on the porch and in the driveway, so I wasn’t sure how much watching they got done, but they always came through in a pinch.

  >Thanks.

  I was momentarily at a loss for words. />
  >I would appreciate that.

  “Well?” Clay kept his attention on the road ahead. “What’s the word?”

  “She shot a trespasser, has no idea where he went, and she’s having friends over to celebrate.”

  “I wish I had met her twenty years ago,” Clay said softly. “What a woman.”

  “Twenty years ago, her husband was alive. She would have shot you for putting the moves on her.”

  “I say again…” A smile split his cheeks from ear to ear. “What a woman.”

  Unwilling to touch that with a ten-foot pole, I pulled up the exterior security feeds. With a sinking feeling in my gut, I realized I had gotten notifications, but I had slept through them while recovering from magic burnout.

  “This makes no sense.” I shoved upright, still leaning against Clay. “That’s Nolan Laurens.”

  From this angle, I could tell sandlike grains sprinkled from his hand onto the grass. Salt?

  What else could it be? What was he doing? What did that make him?

  A witch? A masque? Something worse?

  “Camber’s uncle?” He leaned over to get a look. “The date guy, right?”

  “Arden’s uncle, but same difference. Yeah. And he invited me and the girls to dinner. It wasn’t a date.”

  The sensation of being watched prompted me to flick my gaze up to the rearview mirror.

  Asa smiled, a twitch of his cheek, but he didn’t say a word about Nolan.

  Then again, the daemon had said it all for him.

  “I need to call Arden,” I muttered, already dreading it, “but it can wait until we’re settled at the hotel.”

  “We’re clear,” Asa announced. “The zombies won’t venture this close to town.”

  “We hope.” I sat up, but Colby stuck with Clay. “Otherwise, this will be an incident with a capital I.”

  David Taylor had knocked down the first domino in a line I had no hope of stopping, now that they were falling. I fooled myself into believing he would keep what he knew about Colby to himself. Black witches weren’t in the habit of sharing their power, and knowledge was power. But maybe I had it wrong.