by Elle Adams
The office door opened, and Veronica sailed in. “Are you working?”
Bethan looked up. “I just heard the sceptre was stolen.”
“Oh, that,” she said. “Let the council sort out their squabbles in their own time.”
Her flippancy surprised me given her remarks about security at the ceremony, but then again, the sceptre didn’t seem to mean much to anyone except for the Head Witch hopefuls. Which suggested one of them must have stolen it, but I hadn’t had the chance to use my lie-sensing powers on all the others yet. If the sceptre was hidden elsewhere in the house, Aveline’s insistence on searching every inch of the place would surely turn it out soon enough. Given that none of the visitors was familiar with the town layout, where else could they have hidden the sceptre in the short time it had taken Aveline to notice it was missing?
After the eventful start I’d had to the day, dealing with clients was a welcome relief, and left me little time to ponder how to survive the rest of the week with Aveline occupying my room. Maybe finding the sceptre would land me in her good books, but I doubted it.
I looked up from my work to find Rob watching me across the desk. “Blair, this is going to sound kind of weird, but I have an easy way to tell if anyone broke into your flat or not. Werewolves have a very strong sense of smell. We don’t normally get involved in these sorts of situations, but considering how important that sceptre is, I’d be happy to come and sniff around.”
“Not sure the Head Witch wants any more visitors,” I said. “Madame Grey is searching the place at the moment. Thanks for the offer, though.”
I’d forgotten about werewolves’ powerful sense of smell, but a lot of people had been in that room since Aveline had turned the place inside-out. Including Aveline herself. For all I knew, she’d faked the whole thing for attention, or so she wouldn’t have to give the sceptre up at the ceremony on Samhain.
“Anytime,” said Rob. “Just give me a shout if you’d like me to look around for trouble.”
“I might take you up on that, if Madame Grey doesn’t find anything.” If not to find the sceptre, then to find my missing familiar. Sky might be able to set the record straight if he really had witnessed the break-in, but given his traumatic experience at the Head Witch’s hands, I’d be lucky if he showed up before the Samhain ceremony.
Perhaps he’d gone back to the bookshop where I’d first found him. Or Vincent’s place, since the two had been friends before Sky had had adopted me. Not only that, Vincent had mind-reading powers, and they extended to being able to communicate with Sky—on some level, at least.
Might he be able to use that ability to find out if Sky had seen the sceptre’s thief?
As soon as the workday finished, I set out for the vampires’ main headquarters. The uphill walk was refreshing and helped revive me a little. Above, the cloudy sky promised rain, and the odds of us conducting the Samhain ceremony in the drizzle were depressingly high. Just as long as I’m not also without a familiar. Hat or no hat.
Grand houses stood at intervals on either side of me, surrounded by high fences, indicating that I was heading the right way. Soon enough, I reached the sooty-coloured building that squatted next to the local cemetery like a grumpy shadow. While you might think the vampires had picked the location for the novelty value, they also ran the town’s funeral home. Just in case any of the dead bodies got up and started walking—which was an occupational hazard of living in a magical town.
I halted outside the door and knocked, hoping Vincent was in. I didn’t quite understand vampires’ sleeping habits, but they were rumoured to sleep at dawn and wander around at night. I also wasn’t sure who actually lived here, considering the lack of wards on the doors, but perhaps the vampires expected nobody to dare break into a building filled with coffins inhabited by dozing predators.
The door opened with a faint creak and Madame Grey’s youngest granddaughter, Sammi, walked out. “Oh,” she said. “Hi, Blair.”
“Hey, Sammi.” I looked past her to see Vincent approach the door, his hair slicked back and his face waxwork-pale, like a walking statue dressed in a black suit and tie.
“It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Miss Grey,” Vincent said. “Blair, how may I help you today?”
I glanced over my shoulder as Sammi walked away. “What was she doing here?”
“She came to speak with me about her school history project,” Vincent said. “I humoured her. What can I help you with?”
“My cat,” I said. “He ran away from my flat earlier, as you probably read from my mind as soon as I looked at you.”
Vampires’ mind-reading powers were as potent as my lie-sensing abilities, which told me his claim that Sammi had come here for help with a school project was the truth, at least. I wondered if her grandmother knew she was hanging out with vampires after school.
“Your cat,” he said. “No, I haven’t seen him. Why did he run away from you this time?”
Judging by the way he’d carefully dodged my statement about his mind-reading, I surmised that I’d accidentally blocked his thought-sensing power again. It happened sometimes, but I had no idea how to control it. Yet another quirk I’d picked up from my mother.
“You might have heard the hopefuls for the position of Head Witch are in town,” I began. “Well, they’re staying in my house, and Aveline Hollyhock and Sky didn’t exactly hit it off.”
“Ah,” he said. “Yes, I heard about the theft, too. I rather think the timing couldn’t be worse, for the town and for the council.”
At least he already knows. If the thief wasn’t found before Samhain, it would reflect badly both on Madame Grey and on Fairy Falls as a whole. And on me, if Aveline persisted in flinging the blame in my direction.
“Has Sky sent any images to you today?” I asked. “I mean, through your psychic link or whatever it is?”
“No,” he said. “Why?”
“He might have been the only witness to whoever stole the sceptre,” I admitted. “They slipped in and out of my flat while I was outside, and he was the only person in the living room. Aveline was asleep, and so were Alissa and her familiar.”
He watched me unblinkingly, his expression giving nothing away. The vampire was notoriously stingy when it came to helping others out, and anything that didn’t directly involve himself and his fellow vampires was generally of little interest to him. Being eight hundred years old meant picking his battles carefully. Past experience told me not to get my hopes up, and sure enough, he shook his head.
“I will keep an eye out for that feline of yours,” he said. “In the meantime, I’d suggest you employ that useful talent of yours.”
He means questioning the other witches using my power. I did plan to, and they’d be more likely to talk to me than the mind-reading vampire—marginally, anyway. “If you see Sky, will you let me know? I have to make sure Aveline hasn’t destroyed my room while I’ve been at work.”
I also needed to change before my date with Nathan, but given the sock incident earlier, I’d be lucky to remember to put clean shoes on. Then again, Nathan often showed up for our dates with mud on his clothes from patrolling the town’s borders on security duty. We were still in the deliriously happy Honeymoon phase of our relationship where it didn’t matter if we both arrived to our dates covered in swamp water.
“Then you had better leave.” Vincent smiled, with a flash of fang. “It’s always a pleasure seeing you, Blair.”
Lie. He knew I could sense it, but he let me hear it anyway. Vampires. Shaking my head, I turned and made my way back downhill towards home.
I found Vanessa sitting on the doorstep of our house. She sprang to her feet when she spotted me.
“What are you doing out here?” I glanced at the window, but the curtains were drawn.
Vanessa stepped aside to let me into the house. “My own mother thinks I stole the sceptre. She threw me out.”
“And did you?” I asked.
Her expression turned to blank
shock. “Why—no, not at all.”
True. “Sorry, I’ve had a long day,” I said. “I can also tell if someone’s lying or not, so I figured I’d get it over with. Are the others in?”
“The Rosemary witches?” A flash of some unidentifiable emotion appeared in her eyes. “Yes, they are. So… if you ask every person in the house if they stole the sceptre, you’d know if they lied?”
“Yeah, I would,” I said. “Within reason. I mean, if the thief came from outside the house, I’d need more clues before figuring out who to pursue. Questioning everyone in town is too time-consuming.”
Not to mention the thief might not even be from Fairy Falls, if any of the other witches had brought outside help. That was the only possible reason I could think of for the sceptre not turning up in the house after the havoc Aveline had wreaked on it.
“I suppose the circumstances seem to point to the culprit being among us guests,” she mused. “However, my mother was very thorough in her search of the house.”
“I’m amazed it’s still standing,” I said. “Has my cat come back?”
“No.” Vanessa shifted from one foot to the other. “Blair, I have to apologise for my mother’s actions. She’s normally respectful of other witches’ familiars.”
“She doesn’t respect you, does she?” I clamped my mouth shut before I made a more unwise statement. “I mean, what made her label you as the culprit? Because you want the sceptre yourself?”
“It’s not the sceptre I wanted,” said Vanessa. “It’s the position of Head Witch, which has to be earned. Stealing the sceptre for its own sake would defeat the purpose. I wanted the position of Head Witch to stay within our coven, whether I was chosen or not.”
True. “So that’s why you came here?”
“Yes.” She drew herself upright. “I did.”
“I’ll talk to the others, including the Head Witch, but I can’t promise she’ll listen.” I suspected Aveline’s daughter was the only person who came close to getting some sense out of the old witch—and not by much.
Inside the house, I heard voices behind my flat door. I opened it to find Aveline playing some kind of card game with the three Rosemary witches from upstairs. The oldest of the three had magenta hair and wore floral clothes bright enough to require sunglasses to look at. The two other witches appeared to be identical twins. While their hair was chestnut brown, one of them wore yellow and the other wore red, in equally bright shades.
“Oh, it’s you, Blair,” said Aveline.
“Yes, it is.” Since I live here. “What are you four doing?”
“Playing Scrabble,” said the pink-haired witch. “I’m winning.”
“That’s because you always cheat, mother,” said the twin on her right-hand side, who wore yellow.
I turned to the Head Witch. “I take it the thief is still at large?”
Aveline ignored me, focusing her attention on the game.
The pink-haired witch spoke instead. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced yet. I’m Grace Rosemary. These are my daughters, Patience and Charity.”
“Hi.” I waved awkwardly. “I’m Blair. As you probably know by now.”
The two witches muttered hellos.
“Very nice house you have here,” added Grace.
It was even nicer before a certain someone rearranged it. “Thanks. So have none of you seen any signs of the thief?”
“No,” said the pink-haired witch. “Devilish quick, weren’t they? I’m impressed.”
“Aren’t you the one who was sleeping in here when the thief sneaked in?” asked the twin on the right, who wore red.
“No, I was outside.” And I thoroughly regretted that stroll, considering how much of a waste of time it’d been. “Have you seen the sceptre today?”
A chorus of ‘no’s followed. My lie-sensing power didn’t go off, which ought to prove they weren’t responsible for the theft. But then, who might it be? The only people not in the room were Shannon and Vanessa.
“We didn’t take it,” Grace said. “I’d very much like to see who did, though.”
True. I gave a nod, and the witch in red—Charity—turned in my direction. “I heard you can sense lies.”
“I can.” I should have known at least one of them would have worked it out. I hadn’t exactly been subtle with my questions. “Has Madame Grey been here?”
“She came and went.” Aveline waved a hand. “Didn’t find anything, of course. Whoever has that sceptre knew where to hide it.”
I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Vanessa’s miserable profile still hunched outside the door. “I used my lie-sensing power on your daughter, too. She didn’t steal the sceptre. She wants to earn the position of Head Witch the right way.”
“I know,” said Aveline. “She’s depressingly moral.”
“So why did you kick her out?” I edged past her to the corner where I’d stored my suitcase.
“We need a security guard,” she said.
“You could have used my cat,” I said. “Have either of you seen him?”
“No,” she said. “Oh, don’t look so disgusted. My daughter’s a grown woman who can make her own choices.”
Not if they’re forced on her. I held my tongue and opened my suitcase, digging through cat-hair-covered outfits in the hope of finding something clean to wear for my date with Nathan.
“Nice underwear,” said Grace from behind me.
I flushed and dropped the pile of clothes I’d picked up. “I normally keep my clothes in my room, but—”
“But you generously donated it to Aveline here.” She gave a yellow-toothed grin as though she’d told a hilarious joke. “Pink is not your colour.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” Face flaming, I headed into the bathroom. Dumping my clothes in a heap, I frowned at the walls, which were splattered with neon pink. “What happened in here?”
“Oh, I dyed my hair in your bathroom,” said Grace. “Aveline said I could.”
You might know it. “Aveline doesn’t live here.”
“For this week, I do,” said the elderly witch. “Do close the door, will you, Blair?”
Teeth gritted, I closed the door and locked it for good measure. There was nothing to be done for the dark circles under my eyes, but with the help of a spell, I managed to get most of the cat hairs off my skirt and top. With my hair tied back to hide the frizziness, I looked almost presentable.
“You’re dressed for a date,” Aveline remarked when I came out of the bathroom. “Who is it, a local wizard?”
Grace laughed. “Look at her blushing. It’s probably a mole shifter. Or a weasel.”
I scowled. “No, he isn’t.”
Aveline hooted with laughter. “Werewolf, then? No, they’re far out of your league.”
I chewed the inside of my lip to avoid commenting that a Head Witch who’d managed to lose her own sceptre had no business telling me who was and wasn’t out of my league.
“Please let your daughter back into the house,” I said. “You know, if both of you tried to act your age, then maybe we’d all get along better.”
“I did my growing up,” Grace said. “It’s not worth the investment.”
I left the witches cackling with laughter and opened the flat door, tripped over the threshold and tumbled into Nathan. He caught me before I fell. “Whoa, Blair. Are you okay?”
A fresh wave of laughter came from behind me.
“He’s already swept you off your feet, has he?” Aveline’s voice drifted overhead. Oh, shut up, you old bat.
Nathan peered past me into the flat. “Is there a problem?”
“She’s right, he’s not a wizard,” Grace said. “What’s with the shoes? Did you steal them from a bridge troll?”
All eyes momentarily went to Nathan’s boots, which were designed for hiking through thick mud.
“Not quite,” he said. “I’m leader of Fairy Falls’s security team. I make sure nothing gets in here that isn’t supposed to.”
“You’re welcome to escort me home,” said Aveline. “I’d even pay for the opportunity.”
“Mother!” Vanessa took the opportunity to slip back into the house. “Who are you hassling this time?”
“This delightful young man has come to take Blair out,” said Grace.
Her eyes took in Nathan, and an appreciative look came over her. I pointedly stepped into the way. “I’m going out. If anyone needs me, leave a message with my cat.”
Nathan frowned sideways at me as we left. “Your cat? Can he understand messages now?”
“No, and he isn’t even in.” I rubbed my tired eyes. “That sounded better in my head.”
“They don’t look like they’re doing much searching for the sceptre,” he remarked.
“Nope,” I said. “I’m guessing the Head Witch has taken Grace and her daughters off the suspect list. I can’t believe she got pink hair dye all over my shower.”
Nathan’s brows shot up. “Is she the Head Witch? The one with pink hair?”
“No, that was the other one.” I dug my hands in my pockets, wishing I’d had the good sense to grab a coat on the way out. “The pink-haired witch is Grace Rosemary. It’s the woman with the grey hair and the bad attitude who took over my room and made a mess of my flat. And stole someone’s fireplace, too. If we don’t stay out all night, I’m sleeping in the garden.”
“And there I thought you were happy to see me,” he said. “You’re blushing. It’s cute.”
“I’m going to pretend I’m blushing because I’m happy to see you and not because a one-woman force of terror flirted with my boyfriend.”
He smiled. “I like it when you call me that.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Despite the universe’s best efforts to thwart us, things had been going well. Too well, almost. I’d been under no illusions that I’d get to spend a great deal of time with him this week, considering the Samhain ceremony, but one date was enough to make up for the otherwise frustrating day I’d had.