by Evie Hart
“Hey, Dots. Aunt Bella said you’re looking for a spell to see the past.” I reached out and pinged one of her curls.
“She’s not talking to you,” Nicole said with a twist of her lips. “She’s mad that you didn’t come to see her after you found the bodies this morning.”
I slid up a chair and wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sorry, Dots. I didn’t think. I was kinda shocked.”
“I’m mad at you, too,” Dotty said, peering over at Nicole. “You could have called me. You know Sheriff Bones sometimes lets me onto crime scenes to see if I have any visions. Instead, I’m stuck here trying to find a spell that’s impossible to find.”
She waved her hand at the stack of books she’d apparently already read through.
“Did you try a finding spell?”
Dotty sent me such a sharp look with her dark-brown eyes that I slid back into my original chair. “No, I thought I’d totally forgo my use of magic to find a spell.”
“It didn’t work,” Nicole piped up helpfully. “All she found was Angus’ stash of dead mice.”
“Yours didn’t work either,” Dotty said.
I sighed. “I see where this is going.”
Dotty softened and looked at me. “Please. That spell could be anywhere. Maybe not even in this library. There are piles of books all over the house.”
Damn it. I couldn’t say no. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I could feel my magic buzzing, desperate to get out and do something.
I stood up and closed my eyes, reaching deep inside for that warm ball. Yes, oh yes, I’m home at last, find me a spell to see the past, I said the incantation with intent inside my mind, and when I opened my eyes, fuchsia sparked from my pointer finger.
A tiny ball of light floated to the next shelf. The three of us watched in silence as my bright pink spell traveled every single shelf, hovering every now and then as if it were trying to decide if the spell was there or not.
It fizzled out.
“What the hell?” Nicole breathed.
I used the residue from the spell to conjure the ball again, and this time it lasted only for two minutes before I felt the push back against it and it disappeared.
Dotty groaned.
“There’s a spell on the book.” I folded my arms. “Grandma!” I shouted.
She popped into view, still in her sequined jumpsuit, and mirrored my stance. “Avery.”
“Why are some of the books in this library concealed?”
“You don’t need to see them all,” she replied.
“If they’re bodice rippers, don’t worry.” Nicole picked up her book which had a half-naked man on the cover. “They’re sexier these days.”
“There are some spells you don’t need to know,” Grandma clarified, floating over. “And let me see that man.”
“Focus!” I snapped my fingers, and Grandma straightened. “Dotty needs a spell.”
She sniffed. “I know what she needs. And she doesn’t need to see the past.”
“I see the past all the time!” Dotty pushed her curls behind her ear for one to immediately spring out. “It’s my gift. Why can’t I use a spell to see what I’m supposed to?”
“Because,” Grandma said morosely, a dark expression flashing over her ghostly features. “If you’re supposed to see the past, you will. I told you during your training that your gift is a dangerous one. People get lost in the past, Dotty.”
“I want to see what happened to Betty Lou and Amelie, not regress to my childhood,” she snapped. “I have five witches to anchor me and pull me out. I think I’ll be fine.”
Grandma shrugged a shoulder. “Then you can find the spell yourself. With your eyes and your hands.”
Another pop and she was gone.
“Wow.” Nicole looked at me. “She’s moody.”
Given how Dotty threw a book at the space Grandma had just occupied, I didn’t know who she was talking about.
Honey saved me from asking by flying in, staying close to the ceiling, and barking, “Dinner!” at us.
Snow launched herself off the back of the sofa at the macaw, but Honey disappeared out of the library before she stood a chance at getting close to her. My cat let out a frustrated meow before she blinked out of view, presumably looking to track down the bird.
“It’s like a damn zoo,” Nicole muttered, cradling her wine glass as she stood up. “Ridiculous.”
Dotty rolled her eyes and lead the way to the formal dining room where family dinner was always held. The long table that seated twelve was already set, but I wasn’t surprised to see wine bottles pouring themselves into glasses. I did, however, crack a smile when one paused over TJ’s glass, then shook side to side as if to say he was too young.
Aunt Rose had some weird but wicked magic.
I took a seat between Dotty and Nicole and immediately reached for the wine. I really hoped Grandma wouldn’t join us. There was nothing normal about being watched by a ghost while you ate, and it was a definite appetite killer.
Aunt Rose lead the moms into the kitchen, a big casserole dish floating in front of her. The smell of beef and mixed spices reached my nose, and I inhaled, sighing happily. Hot, fresh bread and creamy mashed potatoes followed, and all three dishes were gently laid to rest on the table, swiftly followed by a dish of steaming vegetables. Aunt Rose, Shelly, and Bella took the seats opposite us, and I looked toward the door for TJ to appear.
“He’s at a friend’s house,” Aunt Rose said by way of explanation, serving casserole onto her plate. “I knew we would need to discuss what happened this morning, and he’s still too young for this.”
I groaned. I just wanted to eat my dinner, not discuss a dead body over it.
Aunt Bella raised an eyebrow. “Fine. Then we won’t discuss what we just heard on the familiar grapevine while y’all were lookin’ at spells.”
I paused, gripping the spoon for the mashed potatoes. The sides of the metal handle dug into my palm. The familiars had their own means of communication—sometimes it was easier to use them for information, given that they didn’t particularly have a job unless we needed them.
“What did you hear?” my cousins asked at the same time I had.
“Marshall went to find Betty Lou’s dove, Albert.”
“Stupid name for a dove,” Aunt Shelly muttered.
I was hard-pressed to disagree.
Aunt Bella shot her a look. “He was allowed inside the hospital because his presence would allow Betty Lou extra power to heal.”
“And nobody would say no to the Head of the Council,” Aunt Rose interjected.
Bella waved her hand. “Semantics, Ro. Anyway, Albert was bound by the wards to not repeat what he heard, so he communicated telepathically. And no, before you ask, the wards only cover verbal communication.”
“Get on with it, Mom!” Nicole said, stabbing a lump of beef with her fork.
“She was poisoned,” she said quietly. “They didn’t say with what, just that she was.”
I frowned. It didn’t make sense. Why poison Betty Lou, but make Amelie’s murder so messy?
“What about Amelie?” Dotty asked, staring thoughtfully out of the window behind Aunt Rose.
“She was shot. Silver bullet,” Aunt Shelly said.
We all looked at her.
She shrugged. “Jelly likes to hang out at the police station. I think she has a kitty crush on the new detective.”
That’s right. The woman who said Albert was a stupid name for a dove had a cat named Jelly. You couldn’t make it up.
“What else did he hear?” Nicole asked, head tilted to the side.
“Just that the silver was so concentrated it would have taken down a werebear, never mind a werecat.”
Wait, what? “Amelie was a werecat?”
Everyone nodded.
“What was a werecat doing working for Betty Lou?”
“She didn’t have a pack,” Dotty answered. “Or whatever a group of werecats is called. She was new in town and had bee
n struggling to find herself amongst the others already settled here. It didn’t help her that she was a cougar and they’re all big cats.”
I guess the size difference would have been an issue. “Did everyone know that?”
“Pretty much,” Aunt Shelly answered. “It wasn’t a secret. Nobody minded. We sympathized with her, really. She said her last pack lived in the human world and got spotted. She was the only one who got out alive that she knew of, and Haven Lake was the nearest magical town, so she moved here.”
“Why would a pack of werecats be living in the human world?”
“Why would a witch?” Aunt Bella asked me with a wry smile.
I poked my tongue out at her. That was different, and she knew it—I had the ability to conceal my true nature. Shifters didn’t. Wolves had to shift with the moon, but the others still had to shift occasionally, or the animal would force its way out.
That seemed awfully risky for a large group.
I filed it away and decided to look up Amelie Vine and the death of her pack tomorrow. If it was in the human world, a large concentration of cougars being killed in one place would have made the human news.
Especially since bobcats were more common in Georgia. I didn’t think we had cougars.
“Why kill them differently?” Aunt Rose asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Murder doesn’t make sense,” Aunt Bella replied. “I think we’ve had enough morbidity for one meal. Let’s discuss something different. Like the love lives of the youngest Thorn generation.”
“Let’s not,” Nicole said quickly.
“I know you’re still seeing Reese.”
She shrunk down in her seat. I saw what she wanted to say: sleeping with. But she daren’t say that to her mother’s face. “We’re not serious. It’s casual. Here and there.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Aunt Rose gave her a look that said, really? “They’re sleeping together, Bella,” she deadpanned.
Nicole’s cheeks turned an interesting dark shade of red, and she slouched down in her chair even more. I would be surprised if anyone could see her on the other side of the table.
Aunt Bella snapped her fingers, and Nicole sat up straight. She scowled at her mom, and I dipped my head to hide a chuckle. The finger-snap had been a favorite move of Grandma’s when she wanted us to do something, and it looked like that had moved to the next generation.
“I’m surprised nobody has mentioned the new detective,” Aunt Shelly said. “If he were twenty years older, I’d climb him like a koala in a eucalyptus tree.”
I frowned at the mention of him. He was still in my bad books.
Aunt Rose’s eyebrows shot up, and mischief shone in her eyes. “Something to add, Avery?”
“Not if he’s the topic of conversation.” I downed the rest of my wine, and the bottle immediately moved to top me up.
I needed to learn that spell.
“He accused her of murder,” Nicole added. Way too cheerfully.
Somebody was trying to get the spotlight off her and her bad dating choices.
Immediate demands to hear the story had me telling it yet again, and the first question was the one I’d heard three times today.
“Did you tell him about Ophelia?” Aunt Shelly asked, cocking her head.
“Snow did.” I spun my wine glass by the stem, sulking as I looked at the liquid sloshing side to side.
Dotty side-eyed me. “Are you sulking because he accused you of murder, or because he’s hot and accused you of murder?”
“That’s virtually the same thing.”
“No. In one of those scenarios, you find him hot.”
“He is hot,” Nicole said.
Aunt Bella narrowed her eyes. “Then why don’t you sleep with him instead of the faerie?”
“He’s hot!” I said quickly to diffuse the situation. “I admit that he’s good looking, but he’s still a presumptuous ass.”
Aunt Rose snorted. “That’s his job. Stick around long enough, and you’ll see he’s a perfectly nice guy.”
Her voice was light and airy, but the snarky undertone wasn’t missed by anyone at the table.
“Don’t worry,” I said, adapting the same tone she had. “I’m staying, which you know, but that doesn’t mean I’m interested in finding out whether Detective Dax Sanders is as nice as pie or not. He could be the hottest thing since Hades, and I still couldn’t give a flying pig.”
Dotty blinked into space, then turned her face to me, her eyes unfocused with a dreamy smile on her face. “We’ll see.”
Everyone looked at her with curiosity rippling their features, but she said nothing, simply turning back to her dinner with an unnerving silence.
What the hell did that mean?
CHAPTER SEVEN
I WOKE THE next morning with a spring in my step. Despite the stress and horror of the previous day, Aunt Rose’s tea infused with Aunt Shelly’s magic had done its job. I’d slept for eight hours, and today, I felt as though I could take on the world.
Kind of.
The world was a big place after all.
I had plans for today, and at the top of that list was find out who Amelie Vine was. The next was to see what I could find out about her pack, and third was to see if there was any news on what had poisoned Betty Lou.
Something felt off about the whole situation. Why not poison them both? Unlike silver bullets that could only kill shifters and vampires, poison didn’t discriminate. Unless you were a really old vampire and your metabolism was quicker than Usain Bolt.
It was a niggle in the back of my brain as I headed to the library.
Much like the Haven Town Hall, the library had been built during the time of the founding family of the town. The architecture was similar, but it wasn’t quite as imposing. Two floors of wall to floor shelving filled the space, but bright lights had long illuminated every title, from matte covers to foil-lettered spines and peeling leather wraps.
I walked up to the old building, noticing the cracks appearing in the paint. Something had to be done about that soon before it flaked away. Haven Lake Library was one of the few buildings in town that hadn’t had its exterior altered except for basic maintenance in the years since it’d been built. It had to stay that way, if only because change wasn’t something Haven Lake dealt well with.
The doors to the library were big and heavy, but with a little magic infused into my fingers, the solid wood door was almost weightless when I pushed it open. The blast of air conditioning was a welcome hit, and I sighed happily before letting the door swing shut behind me.
Dotty peered up at me from behind the counter. “What are you doing here?”
Seer, librarian, pretending to be happy to see me—my cousin was a woman of many talents.
“I’m not allowed to come to the library?” I asked, approaching the large, wooden counter she stood behind. It was a half-hexagon, allowing space for three librarians to work, but there was only ever one.
“Sure, you are. I just didn’t expect to see you here.” She stacked the papers she’d been looking over and looked at me. “What do you need?”
I leaned over the counter. “I want to know about Amelie and her old pack.”
Dotty’s face wrinkled. “You do?”
Nodding, I said, “Something is off about the situation. Besides, I wasn’t far from here in the human world. If a large group of cougars were killed, I want to think I’d have heard about it.”
“Not if they were shifters.” Dotty paused. “Their magic is unique. When a shifter dies, they revert to their human forms. The alpha of the pack would know and can call the body back to the pack headquarters. Nobody would have recovered any bodies.”
I frowned. “Would the alpha have been able to recall more than one at once?”
“Depends on his power and how long he’d been alpha. Unlikely, though.” She motioned for me to follow her. “I don’t know that we have a lot on it, but after she moved here, I did look
into cougar sightings and killings in the area. Amelie didn’t really like to talk about it,” Dotty said, leading me into the back rooms where all the newspaper stories and research was stored. “But I got the impression the deaths were over the period of a couple of months. That’s what the articles that I could find said, anyway.”
She stopped in the middle of the room and, bringing her hands up to cup her mouth, whispered into her hands before releasing the spell. A tiny, turquoise ball of light bounced across the room before landing on a small box on the top shelf.
Dismissing the finding spell, she pulled a dusty pair of steps over to the shelf and brought it down.
“Look at you, using that finding spell all by yourself,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. “This room is imbued with finding magic. A five-year-old could do one. Here.” She put the box in front of me. “They’re all in date order.”
“Thanks, Dots. Have you seen anything yet?”
“No. It’s frustrating. There aren’t even any reports of her ghost showing up. I asked when I ran into Magic Bean for my coffee this morning.”
That was weird. Witches and shifters almost always came back as ghosts. We were technically human—super human, but human all the same. “Nobody has seen it?”
Dotty shook her head. “The mediums have been to her house, the Town Hall—everywhere they can think of. If anyone could see her, it would be them.”
The sound of a bell ringing from the main room dinged through the air, and she sighed.
“I have to get that. Take your time with this.” She waved her arm and disappeared.
I slumped back in my chair, defeat resting heavy on my shoulders before I’d even pulled the first report from the box.
Not even the mediums could see her?
Medium witches were a bit of an anomaly. All paranormals could see ghosts, but the ghosts also had the option of hiding themselves from us. Not many did because it took so much energy, but they couldn’t do that to the mediums. They could see any kind of ghost no matter how thoroughly they hid themselves. Not to mention their ability to solidify a ghost’s body part to touch them and see their life was freaky as hell.