Beguiled

by Darynda Jones

  “Sarru,” she said, bowing her head as I took her hand. “I’m Shanti.” She had a soft African accent that was almost as beautiful as she was.

  “Defiance,” I corrected and gestured for her to sit. “Before we get started, may I ask what you use on your skin? It’s incredible.”

  She laughed. “I nourish from the inside out. Many things. Would you like a list?”

  Yes. Yes, I would, but that might be a conversation for another time since I had a thousand other witches to talk to. “Maybe we can have coffee one day? Discuss it? Because, damn.”

  Her rich brown eyes lit up.

  “The sooner the better,” I added. I needed all the help I could get.

  “I would be honored, Sarru.”

  Deprogramming the ranks might take a little longer than I’d hoped. “Thank you. To the best of your recollection, did anyone ask you about Ruthie in the days or weeks leading up to her death? No matter how small. No matter how mundane.”

  Her wing-shaped brows slid together in thought. “I will think on it, Sarru, but I do not recall such a conversation.”

  “Did you discuss her with anyone that you can think of? I’m not trying to blame you for anything, Shanti. Or any of the coven members. I just want to be certain no one out of the ordinary was poking around.”

  “I understand, Sarru. I believe I have only talked about her with our members. Nothing out of the ordinary. But if I think of something…”

  “Please let me know. May I take your hand?”

  She bowed her head and held it out to me. Oh, yeah. Much longer to deprogram than I’d hoped.

  I took her hand in mine, though I hardly needed to. Shanti was an open book. A deep, complex book with a tragic early childhood, but an open book nonetheless. One with nothing to hide.

  She was mostly searching for knowledge and acceptance. She did want to be a great witch, but for purely unselfish reasons. She loved nature. Its essence. Its purity. And she wanted nothing more than to be its advocate. To live in harmony with the life around her.

  But lying just below that, underneath all of her hopes and dreams, was her true heart’s search. Her lost object. A friend from school she’d lost contact with. I saw her clearly in Shanti’s mind. In her memories. Strawberry-blond hair. Wide smile. Freckles across her nose. They’d been best friends since the third grade, then, after a falling out when they were freshmen, her family moved. She never heard from her again.

  I lowered my head and searched for the woman, wondering why the family moved so abruptly. Then I got the answer. Her stepfather had been a fugitive, running from the law. Someone recognized him, so they moved in the middle of the night. She grew up in a rough house. It was no wonder she got into drugs, especially when her stepfather practically forced them on her.

  Did I tell Shanti that? Would she want to know?

  I frowned. I could not start off these relationships with lies. I pulled her hand to my heart and looked deeply into her eyes. “Valerie Coleman.”

  Shanti drew in a soft breath. “Sarru, how did you…?” As though realizing who she was talking to, she pressed her mouth together and nodded.

  “I’m so sorry, Shanti.”

  I felt the coldness of dread as it crept up her spine.

  “She passed three years ago.”

  The shock and emotion were almost too much for her. She crumpled, but she managed it keep it on the inside. “May I ask, Sarru, what happened?”

  “She had a hard life, Shanti. It’s wasn’t her fault.”

  She nodded, knowing what I could not bring myself to say. “At least I know, yes?”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She fought the wetness forming between her lashes and lifted her chin. “You wish to ask me more questions, yes?”

  “No, we’re good. Thank you so much for coming.” She had no concerns about anything she’d said to anyone, so even if she did let certain things slip to the wrong person, she had no knowledge of it. It would do no good for me to pry any further.

  We said our goodbyes, and after a few more interviews, none revealing anything we didn’t already know, Gigi walked up. “Defiance, you’re wonderful with them.”

  “Thank you. I’m a little concerned this is going to take much longer than I thought.”

  “I don’t think so. We’re almost halfway through. Once they open up, you seem to get anything you need, right?”

  “Yes. As unethical as that may be.”

  “Nonsense,” Serinda said. “They know what they’re getting into. They’re honored.”

  “Yes, I noticed.” I gave her a pretend scowl.

  She ignored me and waved in the next volunteer while Annette took notes. The girl was a machine.

  My first male witch walked in. He intrigued me, and I couldn’t help but wonder what lured him to witchcraft. To the coven. What would he have to gain from the alliance? Not that his reasons had to be nefarious. I’d wondered that about all of the witches thus far, but for some reason, the male ones were a little more intriguing.

  His name was Theo, and he was part of the inner circle. A twenty-something with thick dark curls and shimmering eyes that made him look like he was about to cry all the time. At least, that had been my first impression of him. That did not change when he walked in. The effect was rather mesmerizing.

  He was also the first one to resist my charms. Though very polite and just as humbled as the rest of the group to be there, he was not the open book I’d come to expect. He was harder to read, yet he didn’t seem to have anything to hide.

  And the question arose again: Could I compel someone to tell me the truth? Could I force my way into their thoughts? Into their hopes and dreams?

  It would be a violation. It was almost a violation when they were open and I just walked right in like I owned the place, siphoning off memories like a thief siphons gas. But to do it against someone’s will…

  Then again, Ruthie was murdered. Someone was trying to poison Annette. Or blow her up. If he had any information that could narrow down our nonexistent suspect list, would it be wrong of me to mine it?

  Yes. It probably would be, but I focused nonetheless. “So, you don’t remember anyone asking about Ruthie before she died?”

  “I do not, Sarru. But you can check.” He held out his hand, and guilt slammed into me.

  “Do you know what will happen if I take your hand?” I asked him.

  “I do.” He was the only male who didn’t cast furtive glances Roane’s way. “I am a blood witch, just so you know. My father has a coven in Seattle.”

  “Your father?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yes. And, no, he’s not a warlock,” he added with a grin.

  I leaned closer. “Am I that easy to read?”

  “Not at all, Sarru. It’s just most people don’t know that men can simply be witches. No matter how hard the path.”

  “I’m sure it is.” I took his hand and waited, but nothing happened.

  One corner of his mouth hitched up.

  “Did Gigi put you up to this?”

  “Your grandmother would never do such a thing.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Love the hair, by the way.”

  Gigi winked at him. She so put him up to it. Always testing me.

  “Okay, fine.” I rolled up my sleeves, metaphorically speaking, and went to work. After taking his hand into both of mine, I closed my eyes and searched for a spell, if there was one. Finding none, I concentrated. I’d have to do this the old-fashioned way. I lifted my lids and channeled my inner Dracula. If the dark prince could compel people, surely a powerful witch could. When nothing happened, I realized pretty quickly I needed a goal. Like I had with Gigi when I accidentally tried to compel her.

  “Come on, Deph,” Annette said, cheerleading from the sidelines. “You can do it.”

  I stopped and threw her a quick scowl.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, pretending she had a hangnail.

  Theo offered me a challenging smirk. “You’ll have to
try harder than that, Sarru.”

  At least I knew he was purposely blocking me. Whether it was a spell or just his innate ability, I had no idea, but surely I could get past his defenses. I lowered my lids again and focused on my goal: information. I needed to search his mind. To see, first, if anyone had questioned him about Ruthie, and second, to find out what he was searching for. Could I compel him? Could I force him to tell me?

  I gathered my energy like wisps of smoke and pulled them to my center. Then I raised my lids and locked on to him. He could not look away. He instantly grew slack and leaned a little closer.

  “Theodore Ezra King, what are you searching for?”

  The smoky wisps of energy folded into itself until it was only a pinprick of blinding light, and then it burst, and everything was there. Everything. His entire life laid out before me. His unique upbringing. Learning algebra and memorizing spells. Mixing chemical solutions and magical potions. Reading dead white guys and wizards of old.

  His father was firm but kind. His mother soft-spoken but strong. I searched his memories for anything unusual, but his entire life was unusual.

  He was not as much of an outcast at school as I would’ve thought. Taking after his father, he was nerdy yet charismatic. Adored by many. Not popular so much as just very well-liked.

  But combing through his life like a voyeur was getting me nowhere. I pulled back to more recent times. To his high school graduation. His first day at the University of Washington Seattle. His first frat party. His move to Salem.

  A quick glimpse of a moment with his father before he left nettled its way to the forefront. “If you find her, son, if you meet her, you know what to do.”

  “I do, Father.”

  They embraced, then his mother took him into her arms. “Be safe, Theo.”

  “I promise.”

  “And if you do meet her—”

  “I’ll tell her,” he said with a soft laugh.

  “And whatever you do, son,” his father said as Theo got into his car, “do not look her in the eyes. A charmling can steal your soul if she so chooses.”

  A charmling? The designation brought the world rushing back. I blinked out of the trance and turned to Gigi. “His parents know about me!”

  Something akin to pride with a smidgen of guilt shone blatantly on Gigi’s face. “Yes. Theo’s father is an old friend, as was his father before him.”

  “Wait, what happened?” Annette asked.

  I had to admit, I was a little disappointed. “I thought I was like this big secret.”

  Gigi and Serinda laughed softly. “You are,” Serinda said. “But a select few knew about you.”

  “Exactly.” Gigi gave me her patient smile, the one that was more of an intermission while I tried to catch up to the rest of the class. “Think of them as your godparents.”

  “Or emergency contacts,” Serinda offered.

  “Yes. If anything untoward were to happen to me, I needed someone very powerful to find you and keep you and your dads safe.”

  I looked back at Theo. “And that was your parents?”

  “And me,” Serinda said. “Though I’d rather be thought of as that sassy aunt with a dash of crazy who is a bit of a bad influence.”

  “A bit?” Gigi emitted a strangely ladylike snort.

  Roane chuckled from behind a fist, pretending to cough.

  I tried to stifle my grin. Not very hard, but… Theo caught my attention. He hadn’t moved. “Theo?” I leaned into him. He still sat transfixed to the spot. Unmoving. Unblinking. Then his head bent back, the tendons in his neck pulled taut. “Gigi!”

  He was having a seizure.

  Roane rushed over and helped me catch him. He eased him onto the floor, then moved the furniture out of the way. Every muscle in the kid’s body strained against an invisible force. His back arched. His eyes rolled back in his head.

  “Gigi, what do we do?”

  “Just give him room,” Annette said. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “What did I do to him?”

  I stood with my hands over my mouth as the rest of the coven rushed to the open archway. What did his father tell him? Don’t look into a charmling’s eyes or she would steal his soul? Panic closed my throat.

  “Did I steal his soul?” I looked from Gigi to Serinda. “Can I even do that? Holy fuck, where did I put it?” I looked around me. Like an idiot.

  “He’s coming around,” Annette said. She knelt beside him and looked into the crowd. “Can one of you get me a damp cloth?”

  The commotion that followed would suggest that several ran off to do her bidding. One of them came back with a damp cloth, and Annette pressed it to his forehead while the rest of us stood around twiddling our thumbs.

  “Gigi, did I steal his soul?”

  “What? Why would you say that?”

  “His father warned him before he left Seattle.”

  “You know he’s from Seattle?” Serinda asked.

  “Wait,” Gigi said, showing a palm. “You saw a conversation between Theo and his father?”

  “Yes. That doesn’t matter.” I faced her, needing an answer sooner rather than later. “Did. I. Steal. His. Soul?”

  Minerva stood close by. She put an arm around my shoulder to console me. I leaned into her.

  Then Theo’s voice wafted toward us, weak but clear. “I’m pretty sure I still have my soul, though I don’t know how much of my mind is left.”

  I fell to the floor beside him. “Theo! Holy crap. What happened? Please tell me this happens often.”

  Roane and Annette helped him onto the sofa. “I’m not really sure,” he said, holding his head. “What exactly are you hoping happens often, Sarru?”

  “You had a seizure.”

  His gaze shot to mine. “No way.”

  “Way. Are you certain I didn’t steal your soul?”

  A shaky smile thinned his lips. “If you did, you are one hell of a thief.”

  “But how would you know? It’s not like you can see it.”

  He laughed. “Sarru, if you’d stolen my soul, I would’ve never regained consciousness. I would’ve been a vegetable until you either returned it or I died.”

  I sat beside him. “Theo, I am so sorry.”

  Shanti brought him a glass of water.

  He took a big gulp. “You knew my full name even before you got inside my head.”

  “I must’ve read it.” I thought back to my research. “I did some recon on the coven so I’d know everyone.”

  “My middle name isn’t listed on the site.”

  “Oh. Interesting. But I never saw what you’re searching for.”

  “Because I already found it, Sarru.” He lowered his head to show his respect. “You.”

  “Wow. You must be all kinds of disappointed.”

  He slid off the couch and sank onto his knees before me. “Not at all, Sarru. My father had a premonition when I was four. He saw that I would meet the charmlings. That I would help them fight their greatest enemy.”

  “Their?”

  “Yes. He specifically said their.”

  “And we have to fight someone?”

  “Oh!” Annette gave me a thumbs-up. “Good thing you took that three-week class in Tae kwon do when you were a kid.”

  “That has been my great search,” Theo said. “The thing I wanted most. When my father told me Ruthie had died, he knew it had begun. He knew you would come out of hiding and that I would meet you. I would join your cause to defeat, well, your nemesis, for lack of a better word.”

  “And who would that be?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I think he’s a warlock. One with an ancient power only few have been able to get their hands on.”

  “Great.” Was it too late to back out of this whole thing? “How do you know he’s a warlock?”

  “Because it sounds cooler than my real answer, which is: I have no clue.”

  A bubble of laughter burst out of me, partly to feign bravery in the face o
f this great enemy and partly because I could do nothing else.

  My life had become a blisteringly hot mess. I’d almost died already. Almost gotten Annette killed and Roane killed and Gigi killed. Again. And now everyone was looking at me like I was some sort of… deity. Like I had answers. I didn’t even know the freaking questions, and I was no closer to finding Gigi’s killer.

  I suddenly felt like I was drowning. An overwhelming sense of dread swept over me and stung my eyes. Some leader I was. I fought the wetness between my lashes tooth and nail. The coven thought so highly of me. For them to see me melt down would be disastrous.

  “Sarru,” Theo said, drawing me back to the present, “you are exactly where you are supposed to be.”

  I pulled him back onto the sofa with me and leaned closer to him. After casting a furtive glance toward the wolf, who went back to holding up the archway, I hoped he didn’t quite have all of his hearing back yet when I whispered, “I don’t think I am, Theo. I think I am very much in the wrong place at the wrong time with powers that clearly belong to someone else. Someone more adept. Someone not me.”

  His smile held both admiration and a beguiled kind of reverence. Seriously, there was no getting through to these people. “With your permission, Sarru.” He gestured at my hand.

  I placed it in his. This kid in his early twenties who knew more about the witch world than I probably ever would.

  He tightened his hold reassuringly. “Only a true charmling would say such a thing, Sarru. Only a blood charmling would be humble enough to doubt her abilities and yet strong enough to do anything in her power to protect the ones she loves above all else. You are everything I’d hoped for. Everything I’d dreamed of.” He bowed his head. “And I am yours to command.”

  That was disturbing. “How are you with laundry?”

  He chuckled, as did several coven members who were close enough to hear our conversation, including Shanti.

  I remembered another oddity from the visions I’d had of his past. “Wait, you promised your mother you’d tell me something?”

  Surprise flashed across his face, but he recovered quickly. “You saw that?”

  “I’m sorry.”