by Ruby Loren
“I’m not a vampire!” I released the mental hold I put on my magic and it billowed around me in a great cloud of gold.
“Jeepers,” I heard someone whisper, and then the light was removed from my face.
I blinked the bright spots away. “What do you think you’re all doing?” I didn’t take kindly to being mobbed.
“Patrolling this town for vampires. The police aren’t doing anything. Someone’s got to keep us all safe,” came the reply. I was surprised to discover that the speaker was Darren Oldham, the owner of the Wizard’s Wand pub. He’d always struck me as a sensible member of Wormwood’s weird society, but clearly he too had been sucked into this vampire fever.
“There haven’t been any victims since Bridgette. Also, she was murdered out in the forest. Isn’t it more likely that Wormwood Forest is the vampire’s hunting ground?” I suggested.
There was some uncomfortable shuffling. “It’s probably coming here next,” Darren argued.
“You don’t think it would be a better idea to take the fight to the vampire?”
“And be easy pickings for it out in the woods? Not likely!” the argument came back.
I nodded, like this all made perfect sense. In a way, it did. This ridiculous posse was perfectly happy to march around town picking on innocent bystanders, but they definitely weren’t willing to go into the woods at night, where something might actually be waiting for them. “Think before you stake,” I told them, figuring it was the best that I could do. I’d have to hope that they were wrong about the police not paying attention to Wormwood, and that this vigilante group was stopped before it really got going. My aunts’ prophecy was coming true.
I arrived outside Jesse’s place of residence without any other interventions taking place. Apart from me and the vampire hunters, no one else was crazy enough to take to the streets tonight. I knocked on the dark red door and waited around for an answer. The lights were on inside, so I knew that someone was home. A part of me was curious to find out how Jesse Heathen lived. You could tell a lot from the things people kept inside their home. I needed all the clues I could get when it came to unravelling Jesse’s mysteries.
The door swung open and Natalia Ghoul looked out at me.
“Is Jesse here?” I asked her, trying not to fill my voice with judgement.
“Why do you want to know?” Natalia crossed her arms and stood like an immovable barrier between me and the man I’d wanted to interrogate.
“I came here to ask if he’s investigating Bridgette’s murder. He is supposed to be a detective.” I let the skepticism I felt be heard in my voice, hoping to goad a reaction out of Natalia.
“He’s busy investigating it right now. You should go away.” She tried to shut the door on me.
My temper was already frayed, but even I was surprised when the door disobeyed her by jumping open, so hard that it rebounded off the stone wall with a crack that hinted the door was seriously damaged. I rearranged my expression of shock as quickly as I could. “I want to see him. Now,” I added.
Natalia hesitated only a second longer, looking at the gold swirls that were hovering around me and the trail that showed I had, somehow, worked magic on the door. She disappeared inside. I heard her calling Jesse’s name.
He appeared a moment later, casting a cursory glance in the direction of the damaged door. “Wow. Women are literally trying to break my door down these days.” He gave me his trademark smile.
“I see you haven’t been arrested yet. Have you found out anything about the murder?” I asked.
“I see you haven’t been arrested either, and what makes you think I’m interested in the murder?” He inspected his spotless fingernails.
So this was the way we were going to play the game.
I gave in first.
“Why is Natalia Ghoul in your house? Are you investigating her because she probably wanted Bridgette dead?”
Jesse laughed. “That sounds like a matter I would leave in the hands of our very capable local police force! Natalia isn’t here because of the case. We are merely enjoying one another’s company.”
What he was saying took a few seconds to sink in.
“You’re not serious? She’s with Hellion Grey!”
“Not anymore,” Natalia said, sliding in next to Jesse and wrapping her arms around his slim waist. “I cut that dead weight loose when he tried telling me what to do. I believe in partnership, not ownership. Jesse respects me both as a business woman and for who I am as a person. He’s a real man. He’s everything that I deserve as a confident and successful witch.”
I looked at Jesse. “Have you checked to see if she’s used a love spell on you?”
Natalia pouted, but Jesse just laughed. “Be happy for us, Hazel. We’re just two likeminded people who finally found the right person. Aren’t you the same with Tristan?”
“Of course,” I stumbled, so close to being caught out. Fake relationships were more work than the real ones.
“I think you’re protesting too much. Do I detect a hint of jealousy?” Jesse gifted me a kindly smile.
I wanted to peel it off his face and stomp on it.
“That sounds about right,” Natalia contributed. “Poor Hazel has always been envious of me. But it’s okay, you’ll find your happiness, too, one day.” She smiled at me. “I’m just so lucky I finally found mine.” Then - horror of horrors - she kissed Jesse on the cheek in such a long and lingering way, it would probably have been given a 15 rating, if it were filmed.
I stared in bemusement at Wormwood’s newest happy couple. This was just too weird. Perhaps that tea I’d slipped into Natalia’s purchase had worked better than any non-magical tea should… or perhaps she was just messing with me. Either way, I had no desire to waste any more time on either of them.
“Maybe we could go on a double date?” Jesse said, his eyes flashing with amusement.
He knew exactly what he was doing. I also suspected he knew the truth about my relationship with Tristan. I was becoming convinced that Jesse Heathen had been put on this earth to torture me.
“That would be great,” I said through gritted teeth. “See you both soon.” I turned and walked down the path, glad to be free from the nightmare I’d inadvertently stumbled into. Even the prospect of running into the anti-vamp squad again was better than spending any more time with the pair of devious deviants. They probably are the perfect match after all, I thought, darkly.
When I got back to the shop, the envelope I’d left by the side of the counter seemed to almost jump into my hands. I looked at the invitation for a couple of seconds, before I made a decision I would never have believed I’d make if you’d asked me even a few hours earlier.
I was going to join the Wormwood Coven.
6
The Thirteen
I arrived at Ally Paulson’s house earlier than the time stated on the invitation.
The last time I’d joined the coven, I’d arrived at the time Natalia had suggested, only to find the witches already waiting inside, ready to make me regret my mistake of attending without magic. I had a feeling that tonight would be different, and if the strange door slamming incident was anything to go by, I also wouldn’t recommend anyone trying my temper. Evidence would suggest that it had some nasty and uncontrollable results.
I still hadn’t asked my aunts about that incident, but I was no fool. I knew it wouldn’t be a sign of anything good. It won’t happen again, I promised myself, determined to keep a lid on my anger. Not unless someone really deserves it, the little voice inside me whispered back.
“So, the agreement is, I get four cans of tuna and one spell of my choosing in return for being your backup plan?” a voice said from down near my feet.
I pursed my lips. I was willing to bet that other witches didn’t have to bribe their familiars whenever they wanted something done. “The tuna, but no spell,” I told Hemlock. “I hope your eyelashes won’t impinge on your ability to keep a look out.”
“Don’t hate me because
you ain’t me.”
I frowned. “Your TV privileges are going to be revoked,” I told my brainwashed adolescent cat.
“Bite me,” the feline said, making his eyes flash with gold.
I shook my head as I watched him disappear around the back of the modest detached house. According to my aunts, when a witch came into her powers, her familiar was gifted with powers of their own. The magic was shared between you and your familiar. The stronger the witch, the more powerful her companion. Whilst Hemlock seemed to be able to turn just about any magical spell to his advantage (when he could get his claws on it) nothing worked for me. Unless you counted the door slamming incident.
“I give him magic, and this is how he uses it,” I muttered, thinking of the eyelash incident. My aunts had hoped that suffering the embarrassment of silly eyelashes would be enough to make Hemlock think again about using magic, until they naturally fell out. However, yesterday, I’d found him trying to take selfies for the new Instagram account he’d set up with the username: LongEyelashCat.
I took a deep breath and focused on the task ahead of me: survive the coven meeting. Now that I’d cooled down somewhat after being faced with Natalia at her most annoying, I was wondering if this wasn’t a ridiculous and stupid idea. I reassured myself that I was a grown up witch these days, and could at least pretend that I knew how to handle myself. It would all be fine - just so long as I didn’t actually have to do any magic. More importantly than any of that, this would definitely be a point back in my favour against Natalia.
I was still feeling smug about an imaginary system of points won when Aurelia Ghoul opened the door.
I’d forgotten all about her.
She shot me a look of disgust and left the door open. “Ally! The worst witch of Wormwood has arrived.”
Yep. I was confident that coming to this meeting hadn’t been a mistake at all.
I walked into the house and was at least pleased to discover I wasn’t the last to arrive. There was no chanting group of witches waiting for me in the living room and there wasn’t even anything creepy going on. I skirted the sitting room where Aurelia was lounging in an armchair and made my way into the kitchen to see Ally.
“Hi Hazel! How are you? I heard you found Bridgette Spellsworth?” she said, as if chatting casually about a murder victim was a normal way to greet someone.
“I’m fine, thank you. How are you doing? I know you didn’t have a brilliant relationship with Bridgette…”
That was putting it mildly. Ally had tried to sabotage Bridgette’s fortunetelling business. It had resulted in both Natalia and Bridgette nearly being arrested for a murder they didn’t commit.
“I won’t be having any sleepless nights over it, but no one deserves to die like that,” she said, brushing strands of her mousey hair away from her spectacled eyes. She poured hot water out of the kettle and into a waiting row of mugs. “The police did contact me about the murder. I understand why… but I was with my knitting club all afternoon, which apparently means I have an airtight alibi. That was lucky, wasn’t it?”
I nodded and accepted the cup of tea when she passed it to me. I sniffed as subtly as I could, but it smelled like normal Earl Grey.
I considered this new piece of information. So… the police believed Bridgette had been killed in the afternoon before Jesse and I had arrived on the scene. I’d guessed as much from the way no wildlife had moved in on her body and the absence of any signs of decomposition.
It did nothing to reassure me that Jesse wasn’t somehow involved in the murder, or even guilty of it, but it did raise some questions about the vampire theory. The murder had taken place in the day, and the evening had been a sunny one… how did that fit with the child of the night theory? Everyone knew they couldn’t walk in the daylight. As far as I could tell, the Romanian plumber was in the clear.
The doorbell rang again. It wasn’t long before the little house filled up. All thirteen of us moved into the living room and the introductions began.
When you’ve lived in Wormwood for most of your life, there aren’t many people you don’t know. Having said that, whilst I’d seen all of the coven around town, and knew a few of them reasonably well, I’d never shared a conversation with many of them.
“All right, everyone. Let’s introduce ourselves to our newest potential member,” Ally announced, and then blushed to her roots when everyone looked her way. “If that’s okay with everyone?” she added on the end, using more of a squeak than actual words.
Aurelia rolled her eyes and smirked as obviously as she could. I looked her way and made my eyes flash amber. Her smile vanished.
“That sounds like a good idea, Ally,” Jane Spiney, the owner of the magical bookstore a few doors down from my shop said. “I know you know me already, but I’m Jane. I run the local bookstore and I’m a witch. Sorry if you didn’t know,” she said with a devilish sparkle in her eye behind the red-rimmed glasses she wore. I’d estimate that Jane was in her forties, but she had dark hair that showed no threads of grey, and a figure to die for. The only thing more remarkable than her looks was the fact that, as far as I knew, Jane Spiney had never married or even shown an interest in any of Wormwood’s male offerings. I imagined there was simply no one who could stand up to a woman like her, and she knew it. Jane was married to her bookstore.
“Hello! I’m Emma. I just want to say sorry for the, er… last time,” a fair-haired young woman wearing a floral tea-dress and a gold bling-bling necklace that read ‘Fabulous’ said. She smiled nervously and gave me a little wave.
I nodded back at her, not sure how to respond to someone apologising for trying to curse you. There was so much I didn’t know about witch etiquette.
“I’m Victoria Aven,” a young woman with shining brown hair, dressed in a blush coloured suit and wearing the tallest stilettos I’d ever seen said, hardly bothering to glance up from her phone.
“My name is Sarah May. Your mother was my best friend for a very long time.” An older woman nodded to me with sadness in her eyes, before returning her attention to her crocheting. Her hair was silver and kept in place by a hairpin studded with what looked like real rubies. I suddenly realised she was making a crocheted Cthulhu.
“Hi! I’m Rebecca. It’s great to have you here.” A ginger-haired lady reached across to pat me on the arm. She had a food stain on her blouse, and her nails looked like they’d been painted by a two year old. My best guess was - they had been.
“Are we ever going to get started with this meeting? It’s like being at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting,” Aurelia drawled from her position draped across an armchair.
“Urgh, tell me about it,” a blonde woman said, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. “I’m Adelaide, but I didn’t want you here,” she informed me.
I ignored her. Adelaide Hoy had been part of Aurelia and Natalia’s nasty little friendship group at school. I was utterly unsurprised to find her here.
“Can’t we just be nice to one another? I get enough nonsense working in the classroom all day. I nearly hexed the orange at break time. I was so close to doing it after that horrible spawn of Ella Riddley and her not-husband tried to superglue another child to the wall. Little pests! I’m Helen, by the way. Just ignore me. Stressed schoolteacher syndrome.” She bobbled her curly head of black hair back and forth, not doing anything to look less unhinged. She looked across at Aurelia, but the other witch just groaned and flicked her gaze away.
“I’m Zoe Linden, it’ll be nice to recruit a witch to the coven who doesn’t think the sun revolves around them.” A woman I’d estimate was a similar age to me reached out and shook my hand. I looked down at the charm bracelets on her wrist - all different occult symbols and small silver animals. I felt a strange jolt of electricity when she gripped my hand. She grinned at me. “Wow, you do pack a punch, don’t you?” She sat back. Her bracelets jangled when she brushed a bright pink chunk of hair back from her face. “Finally! You nasty witches have got some competition.”
Adelaide and Aurelia shot her evil looks, but Zoe just smirked right back at them. Great. I’d walked into a group that wanted to tear itself apart.
“I’m Heather, and I’d better introduce my young friend, Tara, too. She’s new here and is still finding her feet.” The oldest witch in the coven said with a thin smile.
I nodded respectfully at her. Everyone in town knew Heather Law. She was Wormwood’s most famous witch-psychic. Whilst she certainly looked the part with her giant rings, featuring semi-precious stones, and the large costume necklace she wore around her neck that consisted of a chunk of amber, I also knew that she possessed a formidable intellect. She’d been the headteacher at Wormwood primary school when I’d studied there. She was also the last witch standing of the coven as I vaguely remembered it as a child, long before Natalia had taken over. Natalia might have driven out the other old witches who’d complained about her rule, but even she hadn’t dared to cross Heather Law.
The witch she’d introduced as her young friend stared at me. Tara had long blonde hair and wide eyes that reminded me of a scared rabbit. I thought I recognised her from the Post Office, where she must work, but beyond that, I knew nothing at all about her. I tried using witch sight to give myself more of a hint, but only a few threads of the deepest green slipped out from the shield she’d wrapped herself in - the same as the rest of the coven. Tara may look scared, but I had a funny feeling that she was hiding more power than most.
“Does everyone have tea?” Ally said, nervously fluttering around the group of gathered witches.
“So… what does a coven actually do?” I asked, hoping to kick things off on the right foot. If I was willing to forgive and forget the past, they darn well should as well.
“We do a bit of magic! If there’s something we all want, or one of us wants, we’ll get together and work spells to achieve it. Like, last year, we all wanted to buy houses, so we asked for the property prices to take a dip in the area - and it worked! We all found great deals,” Emma said, brightly.