Dangerous Magic

by Evie Hart

  I dug deeper again.

  There was a spark.

  Foreign, yet familiar. It wasn’t the fuchsia I was used to. It was a stunning silver, almost coated with glitter, and it sparked to life at the whisper of my touch.

  I let out a long breath and touched it again. I whispered to it, skimming the edges of its surface.

  It was stunning. It was warm and soft, yet the sheer power that hid beneath the silver sparks of the surface was tangible. I knew it’d hit the right place because it felt the same as before. It wasn’t overwhelming, sure, but it was enough.

  It was familiar. I knew it. I’d felt this before.

  “Do you have it?” Grandma whispered, her voice but an echo on the breeze.

  I nodded once, afraid to speak in case I lost this connection.

  “Pull it to you.” Again, her voice floated on the wind. “Ask it nicely if it will come with you.”

  That was ridiculous.

  “It’s alive, Avery. Ask it.”

  I clasped my fingers together and reached for that connection. A lick of my magic reached out for it, and the silver recoiled.

  It’s okay, I said inside my mind. I don’t want to hurt you.

  It hesitated, hovering between its core and that of my familiar magic.

  “It’s alive,” Grandma repeated. “Remember that.”

  What the hell did that have to do with anything? Why did she keep telling me that? I knew magic was alive. I knew it was a real thing. I lived with it every single day.

  I reached down again, but the silver didn’t budge. It stayed, toying with my magic until I couldn’t focus anymore and had to break the contact.

  I lifted the circle with a wave of my hand and collapsed onto my back. “I couldn’t do it.”

  “You touched it,” Grandma said. “You did it. You know where it is, Avery, and that’s important.”

  I didn’t see how that took me any farther forward than I already was, but I’d take her at her word. She knew more about this than me, after all.

  “I guess.” Slowly, I propped myself up until I was sitting. I waved my coffee over to me and grasped it and took a big drink. “Maybe I’ll find it easier when this whole thing with Betty Lou is over.”

  Grandma sighed and crossed her legs at her ankles. “I don’t know, Avery, but you need to practice this until you can tap into it. Every day.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “No, you will.” She met my eyes. “You will. The more familiar you are with your magic, the more it will respond to you, even in an emergency. If you find yourself in another situation like the one with Dotty where you need to tap into it and fast, you’ll know exactly where to find it, and you won’t react anywhere near as badly to it. Even if you won’t read the book yet, you promise me you’ll practice this every day.”

  The firmness in her ghostly eyes was enough to make me nod. “I promise. I will.”

  “Good.”

  “Grandma, can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Who would want Betty Lou dead?”

  She leaned back, her hands going through the bench, but she didn’t seem to notice until her head almost went through the tree trunk behind her.

  I bit back a giggle when she frowned at it and sat up straight again.

  “That isn’t a witch? I don’t know. My first instinct was that it was a power play.”

  I frowned. “Power play?”

  She nodded. “Unless the Head Witch dies, it’s rare for the position to change.”

  “Was that why you refused it after the last one died?”

  “That, and I’m not made for politics. I can’t toe the line.” She shrugged. “Betty Lou could—can, and she does. As I was saying, unless she’d held the position for a long time and stepped down or died, she’d control the Council until such a day came. Thus, the obvious answer for the perpetrator was another witch looking to take her place.”

  “But it’s not a witch.”

  “No. Unless the witch is extremely bad and extremely stupid, and I think we’re blessed not to have one of those in our town.” She winked.

  That much was true. “So you don’t think it’s politics?”

  “I absolutely think it’s politics. I cannot think of a single reason why anyone would want her dead. Regardless of my personal feelings about her—”

  And their age-old crap feud.

  “—She is exceptional at her job and extremely fair. All I can suggest is that someone from one of the other races isn’t happy with something she’s done or a policy she’s backing.”

  I plucked a blade of grass between my fingers and twirled it. “Has anything big passed recently? Or any big proposals?”

  Grandma held out her hands. “I’d help you find out, but…”

  My lips twitched as I peered up at her. “Yeah, all right, I get it. So you think I need to recruit a ghost to help me.”

  “I don’t think you need to recruit anyone.” She paused. “The ghosts who frequent the Town Hall may know things, but you forget one important thing, sugar. All policies and proposals, whether they be recently passed or up for debate by the head Council members, are subject to public viewing at any point. And, even if they weren’t, Betty Lou’s document would get you access to even the most confidential of files if you needed to.”

  At that, I paused.

  Damn it, she was right.

  She leaned forward, eyes sparkling as much as a dead person’s could. “You, my dear, have to infiltrate the Ministry.”

  “This isn’t Harry Potter.”

  “I know. I just always thought J.K. Rowling took all the good lines, and I wanted to paraphrase to get one of my own. It’s not like I can publish a book now, is it?” Grandma shrugged.

  I jumped up from the grass and grabbed my coffee cup. “And on that note, I’m out.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “SO, WE’RE INFILTRATING the Town Hall?” Nicole asked, shuffling to keep up with me. Samson and Snow followed a few feet behind us.

  “We’re not infiltrating anything. I want to know if there are any controversial policies or proposals in the works that may have contributed to Betty Lou’s death.” I shrugged. “Grandma suggested it, and it makes sense. We know it wasn’t a witch who poisoned her, and a politically-motivated crime makes the most sense.”

  “What about Amelie? How does she fit into a politically motivated crime?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far yet,” I admitted, slowing down so she could catch up with me. “I don’t know. She’s the wildcard. Nobody seems to know much of anything about her, and Detective Sanders already told me that they made contact with her boyfriend and he has an iron-clad alibi.”

  “Is any alibi iron-clad?”

  “It is when it’s backed up by twenty other shifters, including an alpha.”

  Nicole nodded. “I can see how that would work in this situation.”

  We drew to a stop outside the Town Hall. The Haven Lake PD were done with their investigation, and they’d released the building back to the Councils of each race in the early hours.

  Thank the Goddess. The last thing I wanted to do was sniff around policies and tip off Dax Sanders. He was popping up far too much as it was.

  Nicole checked her watch. “I only have half an hour before I need to open the store again. Let’s get on with it.”

  “Yes, let’s. She just got a new shipment of clownfish who are begging to be my entertainment for the afternoon,” Snow piped up from behind us.

  I peered over my shoulder at her. “You know the tanks are spelled.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t paw at it and scare them.”

  “If you were a human, you’d be monitored in case you became a future serial killer, do you know that?”

  “I’m already a serial killer. I killed two mice last night.” She gave me the equivalent of a cat grin. “And they were delicious.”

  Sure. She hated mud, but blood she could do.

&
nbsp; I shook my head and pushed open the heavy doors. The lobby was alive with people. They bustled left and right, from vampires to shifters to the fae who flew between them all, darting above their heads. I even caught glimpses of the reclusive druids who lived in the forest, and I swore I met the gaze of an elf as I made my way to the main counter.

  A beautiful fae with dark skin and silver wings sat behind the counter. “Name,” she said in a lilting voice.

  “Avery and Nicole Thorn.”

  “The purpose of your visit?”

  “Information.”

  At that, she stopped tapping at her keyboard. “What information?”

  “We’re interested in policies that may have recently passed or any proposals that may be up for debate in the near future,” Nicole stated, leaning on top of the counter. “Do you know where we might go to find those?”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I can’t give you that information.”

  I shot her a dazzling smile. “Sure you can. It’s public information.”

  “You do understand that we just reopened this morning?” She darted dark eyes flecked with silver between us. “The entire building is in a state of chaos. I’m not even entirely sure the people authorized for access have access to those files right now. Can it wait?”

  “No.” Betty Lou’s voice was firm, and as we turned in its direction, the throng of people quite literally parted like the dang Red Sea for her to walk through.

  She looked well. She had color in her cheeks, her hair was curled to perfection, and her smart, navy pantsuit fit her like a glove.

  “Shayla, I’ll take this from here. Thank you.” She dismissed the faerie with one lukewarm smile and turned to us. “My office. Let’s go, girls.”

  She turned on her heel and stalked off toward the elevators. We hurried to keep up with her and joined her in the tiny steel box. She didn’t say a word as the elevator lifted us up to the witch floor and the doors opened.

  Nicole and I averted our eyes as we walked through the space where Amelie had died and Dotty had collapsed. Neither of us wanted or needed to see that space again, and I reached back to squeeze her hand. I kept hold of it until we were both safely inside Betty Lou’s spacious office.

  It was hard not to look at the floor and see her lying there. It was imprinted into my brain as many times as I’d relived it since I’d seen it.

  Betty Lou waved her hand. Three teacups on saucers settled on the large, wooden desk in front of us. “The leaves are from my personal stock at my house. Don’t worry.”

  Nicole half-hid a smile. “Thank you.”

  “How is your cousin?” She lowered herself onto her large chair. “I was sad to hear of what happened to her.”

  “Unconscious,” Nicole said softly. “Mary-Jane gifted Avery some cream that will help pull her out of wherever she is, but it’s a waiting game right now.”

  “She’s healthy?”

  “Yes, ma’am. As far as we know.”

  “Good. If Mary-Jane’s cream doesn’t work, please let me know. My sister is an experienced healer in Haven Keys down in Florida. She may be able to help.”

  Nicole nodded. “We’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

  “Of course.” Betty Lou inclined her head in her direction before she turned to me. “You want information about the politics?”

  I met Nicole’s eyes before I nodded. “Grandma suggested it may be politically motivated. I know the leaders meet once a week to discuss laws and other upcoming issues. Is there anything in recent weeks that may have been the catalyst for your poisoning?”

  “Attempted murder,” Betty Lou replied. “Let’s call it as it is, Avery.”

  I said nothing.

  “As for a catalyst—I don’t know. We have had issues between the elves and the druids over forest boundaries with the shifters. The elves and druids co-exist relatively simply. Any issues they have they’re able to resolve amongst themselves, given their loose relations with each other and the similarities in their lifestyles. The shifters encroaching on their land, however… Well, let’s just say that the more the population grows, the more of a problem it’s becoming.” She sat back, taking her teacup and sipping the hot liquid. “Of course, it’s not a major one for us all, but it is still an issue and one that has been raised regularly in our meetings with little resolution at this point.”

  “How about controversial proposals?” I asked. “Is there anything due for discussion that may rile any of the other races?”

  She cradled her cup, taking another sip. “I wouldn’t call it controversial, but I can think of one that may be…divisive.”

  Nicole glanced at me. “What is it? No offense, but faerie girl down on reception wasn’t exactly helpful.”

  Betty Lou tittered a laugh. “Shayla never is. Unfortunately, we have to rotate staff to keep the building a balanced environment, and she’s the fae choice for her position.”

  “What about the proposal? What is it?”

  “The forest, of course. The issues between the elves and druids and shifters is now becoming too big to ignore. It’s not official, but the witches, fae, and vampires have discussed bringing up an issue of real boundaries for all three races.” Betty Lou finished her tea and set the cup down. “That said, it’s been private until now, and I don’t—”

  She brought one hand to her chest.

  “Betty Lou?” I gripped the arms of my chair.

  Her eyes widened, and the color drained from her face quicker than I could move toward her. My teacup knocked over and shattered on the edge of the desk as I reached for the Head of the Council.

  She coughed, her eyes turning bloodshot as she brought her wrinkled hand to her neck.

  Betty Lou collapsed over the side of her chair, the heaviness of her weight dragging the chair down as she fell. Wood cracked as she hit the ground, and Nicole screamed as I scrambled around the side of the desk, gripping the edge tightly, and reached Betty Lou.

  She was on the floor, hand still near her chest, eyes still wide open.

  I didn’t need to touch my fingers to her neck to know what had happened.

  I was too late.

  Betty Lou Harper, Head of the Witch Council, was dead.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I HUGGED MY knees to my chest in the middle of the interview room. The chair was ice-cold metal and had all the comfort of being locked into a walk-in freezer in your underwear.

  The room wasn’t much better, either. There was zero natural light, and the only light source was a dim bulb that hung from the ceiling and a candle on the table in front of me. Since the bulb was coated in a layer of dust, that said a lot about how often this room was used.

  I’d never been in a worse place in my life, and I’d been to a frat house party in the human world.

  Given my presence in two out of two suspected poisonings of Betty Lou Harper, I was apparently a “person of interest.”

  That was a nice way to say the police thought I was a murderer.

  Right. The only thing I could murder was a taco. Although, right now, I was leaning toward murdering a bottle of wine. At lunchtime. That’s right. That’s how messed up this was.

  The worst part? I didn’t even have Snow. The cells and the interview rooms at the Haven Lake Police Department were spelled so that nobody could interact with their familiar. I couldn’t speak to her in my mind, either. I didn’t even know where she was. I was lost at sea, for all intents and purposes.

  It was the worst disconnect I’d ever felt. Like someone had ripped a piece of my soul out and burned it to ash.

  It was unnatural. I was a witch. No matter how much of a brat my familiar was, she was a part of me. She was as vital as oxygen. I needed her, and tears stung at my eyes the longer I was in this room.

  The only thing I had was that I wasn’t cuffed. That meant my magic wasn’t bound. The only thing keeping me sane was snuffing out the light on the candle in front of and relighting it, only to kill it once again.
>
  Rinse and repeat.

  On. Out. On. Out. On. Out.

  “You’re going to give yourself a headache if you keep that up.”

  I ignored Detective Dax Sanders’ voice and kept my therapeutic candle work going. I had nothing to say to him.

  He walked around the table and pulled out a chair, spinning it around and sitting on it backward. He rested his arms on the back, then his chin on his arms.

  “Avery.”

  On. Out. On. Out. On. Out.

  “Your interview doesn’t start for ten minutes. I don’t believe you’re responsible for this, but you have to understand why Sheriff Bones brought you in.”

  On. Out. On. Out. On. Out.

  He clapped his hands, making the candle disappear altogether.

  I glared at him.

  “That got your attention, huh?” His lips tugged to one side.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” I replied, folding my arms. “I have the right to remain silent.”

  He shrugged and sat up straight. “You do. You’re absolutely right, but staying silent because you’re mad at me and not because you’re trying to save your own ass are two different things. One could get you convicted of a crime I don’t think you committed.”

  “I’m in this situation because she asked me to investigate.” I pushed my hair behind my ear. “She told us that tea came from her own private stock. She conjured it from nowhere. I was only there for information, and I didn’t even know she was still there.”

  Dax sighed. “She wasn’t supposed to be. She discharged herself from the hospital when she received notification that we’d released the building.”

  “Well, I didn’t know that,” I said. “I went for information. Nothing more, nothing less. Certainly not to kill her.”

  He held up one finger. “I have to interview you. You know that, don’t you?”

  I stared at him.

  “Avery, don’t be difficult. I don’t have the evidence to charge you, but we had to bring you in. You know that. We can’t have the community see us as being complacent. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a murder in town, and they need to know we have this under control.” He stood, spinning the chair around and sitting on it properly. “I’m running out of time here.”