Spells to Die For

by CC Dragon

  “What about men? Do you allow men in your coven?” Brenda asked.

  “Of course. We have a few male members. Derrick tries to make it, but he has a busy business in the evenings and Saturdays that fit with most people’s schedules. His mom keeps him informed.” I nodded to Genie.

  She smiled. “A few other men are members online, but they feel a bit outnumbered in person.”

  Brenda surveyed the room with smugness. “Shame.”

  She let the meeting go on as normal. After the larger group broke up, I invited the newbies to stay for a drink.

  Esme and I took a big table as the others ordered coffee.

  “She’s a pain. We don’t want her,” Esme said.

  I nodded.

  Brenda joined us first. “Why do you waste your time on powerless people?”

  “Are you talking about the women in the coven or the charities we raise funds for?” I asked shortly.

  She grinned but her face was hard with disapproval. “Both. That’s not the point of a coven.”

  “That’s the point of this one. Knowing what humans are up to. Having connections with them helps protect the truly magical. The paranormal. You must see the benefits,” I said.

  “Sure. But it’s no use to me. I live in the real world with a bunch of humans. I want to feel my powers. I want to be better. To be different. Not like that silly cake. If they can’t feel my powers, I’m not strong enough for anything,” she said.

  “You think I’m weaker because I caught the cake?” I asked, feeling very confused.

  “You put your skills out there for their approval,” she said.

  “No, I wanted cake. If you think that’s the limit of my powers, you’re very wrong.” I waved it off.

  “I know. I can feel your powers, but you don’t use them enough. This coven would be boring for me. Sorry, but I have to tell you the truth. I can donate to charities. I want to expand my power and experiences.” Brenda stood. “I should just go before we argue more. Have fun with the solo witches. Thanks for the coffee.”

  Esme and I sat silently as she left.

  “Good riddance. Let her go boss around a smaller coven,” I said.

  The other two sat.

  “She’s not very welcoming, and she’s new,” Amelia said.

  “We didn’t expect all of you. I don’t think we’re the right coven for Brenda, but you’re both welcome,” I said.

  “I thought I’d give it a chance. I won’t have much time, but I don’t know many people,” Amelia admitted.

  “I’m glad you did. The coven isn’t just about Wiccan things. We do a lot of things for women’s health,” Esme said.

  “What about you, Trela? Have you found a perfect location, yet?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Not yet. I’ve had a lot of online orders. I don’t know if covens are my thing. Honestly, people can be nice, but I get so bored with meetings and groups or committees. That’s why I started my own business.”

  “I understand that. I like being the boss,” I said. “But I try to keep the meeting stuff short and to the point.”

  “It’s social, really. You don’t have to attend every meeting. Just join. The annual dues are minor and pay for the website. We send out the information in emails and newsletters, so you’re kept informed,” Esme added.

  “Will you go to the next ball?” Amelia asked.

  “If I’m invited, probably. It was nice.” I shrugged.

  Esme nodded. “I usually make an appearance and join the coven. This year was different.”

  I grinned but didn’t look at Esme. Trela grinned, as well.

  “I understand what you’re doing with the café. Catering to humans and linking in the witch stuff. The paranormal. It’s hard to please everyone,” Trela said

  “It is very hard, but I’m not trying to please. I mean with the coffee, yes. I want happy customers, witch or not. But I’m not trying to impress the magical people or pretend I don’t have powers to be closer to human. We all just need to be who we are.” I shook my head, trying to forget Brenda’s bad attitude.

  Chapter Nine

  Friday morning, I came downstairs to find Harry Potter had exploded all over my café. One of the twins dropped a hat on my head before I had my first cup of coffee.

  “You’re very brave,” I warned.

  “Slytherin,” Iris announced.

  “Try again,” I replied.

  Brad handed me a coffee. “They’ve been at it since three in the morning.”

  “I’m sorry. You deserve hazard pay.”

  He laughed. “It’s not so bad. Buffy is more disturbing to me.”

  “I’d imagine it would be.” I smiled.

  Violet took a turn with the hat. “Hufflepuff,” she said.

  “Fine.” I nodded.

  I got a sticker on my shirt and a wand. The first movie was on all the TVs, and new menu items were on the dry erase board.

  “There’s a pizza and slumber party tonight,” Iris said.

  “No liquor,” I said.

  “No. It’s a LARPing thing. Don’t worry,” Violet said.

  “We sold out the tickets,” Iris added.

  “Great.” I was worried about the second floor. I texted Bran about it, and he promised to swing by. “I’m going to check on inventory until things get in full swing.”

  That evening, the pizza was cheap and plentiful, and the college kids were dead serious about their Live Action Role Play (LARP). Bran was tagged as a Ravenclaw and permitted a special pass as my guest. We were at our building capacity, and the kids were spending money.

  “This is interesting,” he said as we headed upstairs.

  “I think we’ll make good money, but it’s not quite me.” I flopped on the sofa on the second floor.

  He sat next to me. “No clue who the thief is?”

  I shrugged. “Brenda, maybe. She came to crap on everything we did at the coven meeting. She tinted red, but she lied about her powers at the ball, so I knew she wouldn’t be clean. I don’t know if it was someone in my coven, maybe, wanting to improve their powers by learning spells. Or was it someone from the ball? I know I mentioned my mother’s book to Liz, but she has plenty of magic of her own.”

  “But someone could’ve overheard you. A lot of people were probably curious about you,” he added.

  “Exactly. Too many suspects and no motives. The spells are real, but they’d have to have real magic and power to use them. I just don’t want to be responsible for another Serena. She made up a bad spell, and it killed someone.”

  “These spells aren’t bad. But they could be lethal and intentionally so in the wrong hands. But it wouldn’t be your fault. You didn’t write the spells or encourage anyone to use them.” Bran stared at the locked room.

  “The red tint thing was good, but I can’t accuse people without proof. I wrote a spell to retrieve what’s mine. Take a look.” I handed him a folded sheet of paper.

  He read it and nodded. “You won’t know who did it.”

  “I don’t care. As long as I get my stuff back, I can let it go and get back to the family secret,” I said.

  “I’m sorry my aunt hasn’t moved faster. She’s a master at social networking in person, but she won’t push too much and piss people off. And it seems like a very well-kept secret if you haven’t figured it out, yet,” he said.

  “I agree. I can’t blame your aunt. It’s like I’m missing a piece. Someone just magically erased a piece of info from everyone but a few people. Maybe I should add something to the spell to give me the answer,” I mused.

  “Too much self-gain. Returning what was taken from you is balancing. If the secret isn’t yours to know or about you—you could mess up your karma,” he said.

  “But it is about me or they’d tell me.”

  He arched one elegant eyebrow. I wanted to smack that eyebrow, this time.

  “If that was the case, they’d tell me that it wasn’t about me or it wasn’t my business.” I elbowed hi
m in the ribs.

  “Cast the retrieval spell. Charlie is coming over in a bit. Who did you want to set him up with?” Bran asked.

  “No, not tonight. I’ve got the LARPing chaos down there. I think it’s all weekend. This isn’t really Derrick’s thing,” I said.

  “Oh, well, Charlie was interested in it. He’s kind of a geek,” Bran admitted.

  “Okay, then, he probably isn’t right for Derrick.” I sighed.

  “Invite him over and let’s find out,” Bran said.

  I texted Derrick. “We’ll see how it goes.”

  “Now, cast the spell. You even have a wand.” He toyed with the prop the twins had given out.

  “Yeah, that’ll help.” I rolled my eyes and blocked out the distraction of the games below.

  An hour later, Derrick turned up, looking confused.

  “This is weird,” he muttered, sporting a green wand and a snake sticker on his chest

  “Sorry. Bad timing. Come upstairs,” I said.

  “Let me grab a drink.” He went up to the counter.

  Brad was his usual flirty self with a hot guy like Derrick. Then, another guy walked in and was declared Gryffindor. Bran pulled the guy aside. He was cute with a geeky bent.

  They walked over to me.

  “Claudia, my cousin Charlie. Charlie, my girlfriend,” Bran said.

  I shook his hand. “Hi. We’re not usually this over-themed.”

  “I like it. Witches or fictional wizards. I love it all. But they are a bit young for me to be set up with. You’re really one of us, right?” he asked.

  “Yes. I am. And the general population isn’t the target. Over there.” I pointed to the register.

  “He’s hot,” Charlie said.

  “I know. He’s nice. Works hard. Very open and single,” I said.

  “I think I need a drink.” He started over.

  I started to follow.

  He held up a hand. “It’s better if we just talk. I appreciate it, but third-party pressure makes it weird.”

  “Perfect. I don’t want to feel the awkwardness either.” I turned and faced Bran with my back to the register.

  I watched another stack of pizzas get delivered and just shook my head.

  Iris came up. “We’re making a killing. I promise.”

  “You okay if I leave?” I asked.

  “Please? You’re like a chaperone,” Iris said.

  “Dinner elsewhere?” Bran offered.

  “Anywhere but pizza. And anywhere I can go like this. I don’t want to change.” I looked down at my blue jeans and café T-shirt.

  “There’s that new Italian chain restaurant that opened last month. Pasta and breadsticks?” he asked.

  “I can do that. And I need ice cream for dessert. What about Charlie?” I asked.

  “He looks like he’s busy talking,” Bran said.

  “Double date,” I suggested.

  “I thought Brad had to work,” Bran said.

  “Crap!” I turned around. Derrick had moved off to talk to Esme and my aunt. Charlie was flirting with Brad.

  “We can take Derrick to dinner with us,” Bran said.

  “That won’t be weird,” I said. I headed over to Derrick. “Sorry the setup was a bust. The guy couldn’t make it. Last-minute grad school online crap. Want go to dinner?”

  Derrick laughed. “Honey, I’m not dumb. That’s the gay geek you thought I’d fit with?” He nodded to Charlie.

  I bit my lower lip. “Him or Brad the barista. I didn’t think they’d hit it off.” I shrugged.

  Esme walked up. “We have two who want green extensions and five purple so far. A couple want henna tattoos,” Esme said.

  Derrick nodded. “Give me an hour, and I’ll have a few friends over who do henna. I just need to go get the extensions and some dye kits, just in case.”

  “What, you’re working this event, now?” I asked.

  “Damn right. College kids LARPing? I’ll clean up. I’m going to get my piercer here, too. No actual tattoos, don’t worry,” he said.

  “Piercing? No, I don’t think I’m insured for that,” I said.

  “You get a twenty-five percent cut of my profits, and you get to go to dinner with hunky wizard man alone.” Derrick nodded.

  “Fine, but liability is on your shop, not me. And they better be licensed to punch holes in people’s bodies.” I held out my hand.

  “You know I’m safety first and legit. Get out of here; you’re scowling.” Derrick shook my hand.

  I turned to Bran. “Let’s go. Just us. He’s going to make money. Derrick does bounce back quickly.”

  “I like him already.” Bran opened the door for me. “Maybe your retrieval spell will have worked by the time you get home.”

  “Don’t get my hopes up. I’ve been impatient enough already,” I said.

  Chapter Ten

  A pounding on my bedroom door made me groan. I’d come home late, full of pasta and wine. The LARPers were still at it, but I’d slipped upstairs and gone to bed.

  “Claudia, you’ll want to see this,” Brad said.

  “What time is it?” I asked. I refused to open my eyes. There was no light radiating through my blinds.

  “Seven. It’s really cloudy today. But you’ll want to see this. I have coffee,” he cajoled.

  I crawled out of bed and found my old fluffy green robe. There was a damp chill in the air. Wrapped in my robe, I opened the door to my apartment.

  He handed over the coffee quickly. “That door is open, again. I took a look.”

  I took a long drink of coffee as his words sank in. “The spell.”

  I ran downstairs in my bare feet and shoved the door open. The books were back.

  All of them. In the nice pile that I’d left them in before.

  “How could someone break in to return them with all the protections you put in place?” Brad asked.

  “I did a retrieval spell.” I closed the doors so no one would see inside. “Don’t let anyone up here. I have to get dressed and get some things. But thanks.” I took another slug of coffee. “Wait. How was your night? Picking up on Bran’s cousin, Charlie,” I teased.

  He blushed slightly. “I didn’t blow off work, if that’s what you mean.”

  “No, I hope you wouldn’t do that, but I saw flirting. I thought he and Derrick might hit it off, but he had eyes for you,” I said.

  “I didn’t do anything. I mean, he hit on me,” Brad said a tad defensively.

  “It’s fine. Derrick probably made a killing last night.” I drank the rest of my coffee and handed him the empty cup. “I’ll get dressed and check on things here.”

  “Another one?” He held up the cup.

  “Probably. Meet you back here in half an hour.”

  I showered, dressed, and texted Bran that the spell worked. Part of me was a bit annoyed that I didn’t add any punishment to the spell or tagging someone, but that could backfire. I had my stuff back.

  I headed down the stairs, and Brad met me with another coffee. “Thanks. I’m going to check these books to be sure nothing was ripped out. If Bran shows up, send him up here,” I said.

  “You got it, boss,” he said.

  I had my phone, my coffee, and a stack of sticky notes to mark anything that looked out of place. I did a quick spell to reveal any changes or damages, but nothing appeared. I flipped through the books, one by one.

  My phone chimed with a text. Bran was on his way. Then another text from Ellen, my barista.

  Ellen: Come down. Police are here.

  I reread the text. Police?

  I put the books away and locked up the private room. I brought my phone and coffee down with me. It wasn’t either of the same detectives who had investigated Mrs. O’Conner’s death. Was it the LARPing? Had they been up and noisy all night? Brad hadn’t mentioned anything.

  “Ms. Crestwood, I’m Detective Grant.” A tall good-looking black man flashed a badge at me.

  “Hi, how can I help you?” I asked.
/>   “You’re the Ms. Crestwood who runs the coven that meets here?” he asked.

  “I am. Is there a problem with our group?” I asked.

  “No, not with the group. Can we speak privately?” He looked around at the group of kids still wandering in Harry Potter robes.

  “Sure. We’re having a themed event this weekend. Normally, we’re more your typical café. Can I get you something to drink?” I offered.

  “A coffee regular would be good, thank you.” He nodded.

  “Ellen, two regular coffees to the office, please,” I said.

  I led the way and sat behind the desk I rarely used. “What’s going on?”

  He held up a hand.

  Ellen walked in and dropped off the coffees.

  “Thanks, Ellen. Please close the door,” I said.

  She closed the door behind her.

  “Now?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to cause panic or upset those kids. They seem focused on their play,” he said.

  “Yeah, shocking that they’re in college and adults. Did someone complain about the coven? This happens every year or two.” I shrugged.

  “No. Do you know this woman?” He showed me a copy of the picture on Trela’s driver’s license.

  “Yes. She came to one meeting. I met her at a party over a week ago. She’s new to town, and we invite all new witches to come to a meeting and see if they want to join. She didn’t seem interested,” I said.

  “You haven’t seen her since?” he asked.

  “Since the coven meeting, no. Did something happen?” I asked.

  “She was found dead by her neighbor yesterday morning. Do you know of anyone who had an issue with her?” he asked.

  “No. Wait, you’re saying she was murdered? No, she was new to town. I’d only met her on three occasions,” I said.

  “The party, the meeting and?” he prompted while he scribbled notes.

  “The day I went to her apartment with Esme to invite her to the coven meeting. Sort of a Wiccan Welcome Wagon. We stopped by and gave her the information.” I sipped my coffee. Poor Trela. I contained my emotions. I didn’t know the woman well, at all. Maybe she’d moved because she was running from something in her past.