Dangerous Magic

by Evie Hart

  “I want Snow.”

  He hit the button on the recorder. “Commencing interview with Avery Louise Thorn at fourteen-hundred hours. Ms. Thorn, it’s my duty to inform you that you are entitled to a lawyer. Would you like to contact your own, or should the Haven Lake Police Department assign you one?”

  “I want my familiar,” was all I said.

  “You’re entitled to a lawyer.”

  “I want my familiar.”

  “Pausing interview,” he said, hitting the button again. “Goddamn it, Avery. Why do you have to make this hard?”

  I took a deep breath. “I made a promise to Betty Lou Harper that I would keep my grandmother bound as long as she instructed me to. She’s dead. The promise died with her. I can release the binding on my grandmother at any time without repercussion from the Council until they instruct me otherwise. Would you like to give me my familiar, or should I use the nice ghost in the corner of this room to send word to Cherry Thorn that you’re holding her granddaughter on suspicion of murder?”

  The gleeful ghost rubbed his hands together.

  “Avery—”

  “I can utter the words for the removal of the binding in seconds.”

  “Jasper, out.” Dax snapped his fingers, and the ghost in the corner disappeared. “Avery, you know I can’t give you your familiar. It’s against the rules.”

  I blinked at the button to turn on the recorder. “What is your evidence against me?”

  Dax’s eyelids fluttered in shock for a second. “You were at both scenes. The first when Betty Lou Harper was found poisoned in her office, and the second when she died. In fact, you were present for the entire thing, from her conjuring the tea—that you and your cousin did not drink—to her death.”

  “So it’s circumstantial,” I replied. “You can ask Mary-Jane when I returned to town, and she’ll tell you I had no time to poison Betty Lou Harper before my visit to the Town Hall to report my grandmother’s binding. As for the second instance, I was there to get information as the fae on reception can confirm. She saw us leave with Betty Lou. I had no reason to want the Head of the Council dead. I haven’t been in town long enough to have a grudge against her.”

  “What information did you seek to get?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to never find out.”

  “Ms. Thorn, I must warn you against keeping information from the police.”

  I sat back in my uncomfortable chair with a smirk. “Nothing that isn’t readily available to the public, Detective.”

  Anger sparked in his eyes. “Explain.”

  “I was there to get information on potential political unrest.”

  He jabbed the button on the recorder. “Political unrest?”

  I snorted. “Don’t tell me my dead grandmother is smarter than you are.”

  “Your grandmother is Cherry Thorn. She knows things Stephen Hawking would have never discovered,” he replied. “Explain. Now.”

  “Unless you’re my mother, you don’t tell me what to do.”

  “I’m a police detective. Unless you want me to throw you in jail for withholding information, I’ll demand whatever I want to demand of you.”

  “Throw me in jail, then.” I rose my chin defiantly. “You’re already holding me on circumstantial evidence and causing me pain by doing so.”

  He paused at that. “Causing you pain?”

  “You’re holding me from my familiar. I can’t feel her.”

  “Avery, she’s right outside the door.”

  “No, she isn’t. I can’t feel her or hear her. I’m cut off completely in this room.”

  Concern flashed across his eyes. “You—not at all?”

  “Not at all!” I shouted, leaning forward. “She’s outside? Right now?”

  Dax pressed a spot on his chest and dipped his chin. “Remove the wards from Interview Room One immediately.”

  I felt it the second they dropped. Warmth flooded my body along with fury. Snow appeared on the table with a giant pop and hissed at Dax before she launched herself at me, curling herself around the back of my neck. Her claws dug into my collarbone, but I didn’t care.

  I was whole again.

  I cupped her body and buried my face in her side. Her fur was warm and soft. Comfort filtered through my veins, and I swear I felt a spark of silver tease against my fuchsia magic as she settled over my shoulders.

  Dax looked at me with slightly narrowed eyes. “Strange.”

  Snow hissed, extending her claws even more.

  “Ow, my shoulder,” I muttered, reaching up to extract her claws from my skin.

  She retracted them.

  Dax looked between us. “Can we finish your interview now with cooperation?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  He touched the spot on his chest again. “Replace all wards on Interview Room One except all those regarding familiars.” His eyes tracked to Snow. “Be quiet, or I’ll be forced to remove you.”

  She licked her paw, following his rules to a tee.

  He returned his attention to me. “Talk me through what happened, from the moment you got to the Town Hall to Betty Lou dying.”

  I did my best not to sigh. “I got there with Nicole and we spoke to Shayla at reception.”

  “The faerie?”

  “Yes, the faerie. She tried to stop us accessing the public files regarding political propositions, but Betty Lou arrived and took us up to her office.”

  When I didn’t continue, he said, “Then what?”

  “She conjured us three cups of tea she said that were brewed from her home store, without us asking.”

  “Did she say where the tea was stored?”

  I shook my head. “She didn’t. It could have been in her desk for all I knew.”

  He held up a finger and touched his radio. “Riccardio.”

  “Here, sir.” The response was crackly.

  “I want Betty Lou’s office and home searched for any traces of tea leaves. Search all known properties and areas she had access to where it could have possibly been stored. Magical hiding places and otherwise.”

  “Ten-four, sir.”

  Dax let go of the radio and met my eyes. “Tell me what happened next.”

  “I asked her what I wanted to know, and she answered. Well, she tried to. After her third or fourth sip of the tea, she grabbed her chest and collapsed where you found her.”

  “Why didn’t you or Nicole drink the tea?”

  I shrugged. “We were there to talk to her. We weren’t thirsty. We didn’t want it. I don’t know. I just know that we didn’t and that despite your attempts at trying to pin the blame on me, I didn’t do it!”

  Snow remained perfectly still on my shoulders.

  Dax studied me for a second. “Water?”

  “What?”

  “Would you like some water?”

  “No, I don’t want some water. I want to be let out of this stupid room.”

  He got up and walked to the small cooler in the corner, pouring two little plastic cups anyway. Rejoining me at the table, he slid one across in front of me and sat down, tapping his fingers against the table. “Your family have long-running issues with Betty Lou Harper.”

  Snow hissed, drawing a sharp look from the man in front of me.

  “My dead grandmother had issues with her. The rest of us liked her just fine.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m not gonna sit here and listen to this regurgitated crap from you. I did not kill Betty Lou Harper. I worked for her. I respected her. She was a talented and fair Head of the Council. Now, unless you’re going to charge me with her murder, we’re done here.”

  “I get to say when we’re done.”

  “Ma’am—ladies, you cannot storm into the police station! You’re not authorized!” a shout came from outside the room.

  “I’ll do what I damn well please!” Aunt Shelly’s voice made its way through the walls. “You’re holding my niece here unlawfully.”

  Snow shook with laughter on m
y shoulders, letting go of a merry “meow.”

  I grinned, pointing to the door. “You should probably handle that.”

  Dax pinched his nose. “Ending interview with Avery Louise Thorn at” —he checked his watch— “two-twenty-seven p.m. Subject is to be released without charge.”

  “Ma’am! You must put down your weapon or I’ll be forced to subdue you!”

  “Oh, Goddess.” Dax jumped up and ran to the door. I was hot on his heels as he tugged it open and walked into the fray of my three angry aunts.

  One of whom was wielding a sword.

  Yup. Aunt Bella had a large, ornate sword in her right hand, and she was pointing it at the poor young guy in front of her.

  “Subdue me? I was subduing trolls before you were born, child!” Aunt Bella shouted, waving the weapon. “I challenge you to try! On guard!” She stretched her arm out, pointing the sword right at the middle of the young guy’s chest.

  His face whitened. Kind of like if a human saw a ghost.

  “Aunt Bella! What are you doing?” I rushed in front of Dax. “Put down the sword!”

  She whirled around, pointing the sword at me.

  I held up my hands.

  Recognition flashed in her eyes, and she lowered the sword, slamming the tip of the blade into the floor. The young cop who’d been bartering with her winced as it dented the wooden planks.

  “They’re keeping you here without reason! It’s illegal and unlawful and nobody listened to me until I pulled out the sword!” Aunt Bella shouted.

  “And everyone thought I was the problem child,” Aunt Shelly muttered.

  “Don’t make me stab you.”

  Aunt Rose busted between them and rushed to me, cupping my face. “Avery, are you okay? What did they do to you? Are you hurt?”

  Oh. My. Goddess.

  “I was interviewed,” I replied.

  “As a person of interest,” Dax continued. “Ms. Thorn was present at both sites of Betty Lou’s poisoning, so I’m sure you can understand our need to question her.”

  Snow twitched, and I reached up and pressed my hand to her back so she’d shut up. The last thing anyone needed was for my aunts to know I’d been fully disconnected from her for a short period of time.

  Aunt Bella’s eyes flitted toward the movement, but she didn’t say anything.

  “We’ll be taking her home now,” Aunt Rose said, taking hold of my upper arm and challenging Dax to argue with her with one sharp glare.

  Dax took a step back. “Of course. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you not to leave town, Avery.”

  “You don’t need to, but I’m assuming you will,” I bit back at him.

  “Not today. Goodbye, ladies.” He tipped an imaginary hat and strolled past us, heading in the direction of his office.

  Aunt Bella removed the tip of her blade from the wooden floor, slung the sword over her shoulder and, after dirty looks at everyone wearing a police uniform, she led the charge out of the police station.

  I couldn’t wait to go home.

  Not.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “WHAT HAPPENED TO you? The last time I saw you, that stupid police detective was bundling you into his car!” Nicole rushed me the second I walked through the door.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at the store?” I asked.

  She hugged me. “How am I supposed to go there right now? The world is falling apart!”

  Dear Goddess.

  “Library,” Aunt Bella barked, marching through to the kitchen with that dang sword still over her shoulder. “I’ll make tea.”

  “He arrested her!” Aunt Shelly cried. “Can you imagine it? Arresting a Thorn witch!”

  Aunt Rose rolled her eyes.

  “And she didn’t even smite him.” Snow jumped off my shoulders and looked up at Nicole. “Is there tuna?”

  My cousin nodded toward the kitchen. “In your bowl. I told Angus I’d kick him if he ate it.”

  “I’ll kick him,” Snow retorted, strolling in the direction of her food bowl with her fluffy tail sticking up in indignance.

  “Come on.” Aunt Rose cupped my elbow and guided me through the hall to the library. The large, engraved walnut doors were already open, and a heatless fire was already flaming in the hearth beneath the huge family portrait.

  We went to sit on the sofas near the fire. I curled up on one armchair, with Nicole taking the other as Samson moved in front of the fire. It didn’t last long. He soon realized the flames held no heat and stuck his nose in the air before he sauntered out.

  Both of my aunts sat on the sofa, and two seconds later, Aunt Bella appeared with a floating tray full of teacups and saucers. The tray set itself on the table in the middle of us, and each teacup and saucer floated over to us, each one stopping mid-air in front of us and waiting until we took it.

  I clasped the edge of my saucer and brought it down to rest on the arm of the chair I was sitting on. Aunt Bella joined my other aunts on the sofa.

  “What happened?” Nicole asked, waving a spoonful of sugar over from the coffee table. “The last thing I saw was Detective Sanders taking you off to the corner and then I was interviewed and told to leave.”

  “He arrested her! That good-for-nothing little—”

  “Shelly,” Aunt Rose said firmly, cutting her off. “He didn’t arrest her, he took her in for questioning, as you dang well know.”

  “Then why was Snow on your shoulders?” Aunt Bella’s question was perfectly innocent yet loaded with accusation in Dax Sander’s direction. “Everyone knows the interview rooms are warded to stop any species gaining an advantage, and for us, that’s our familiars. We’re forbidden from having access to them.”

  I was not looking forward to this.

  “My magic reacted badly to the wards,” I said quietly. “Snow was cut off entirely from me. I couldn’t feel her at all.”

  “At all?” Aunt Rose sat forward.

  “At all,” I confirmed. “You know how when you connect with your familiar it fills a piece of you that you didn’t know was missing? It was like that, except I knew she was missing. You could have ripped off my arm and it would have hurt less.”

  My aunts all shared a look. Nicole glanced at me, but I averted my eyes toward the fire. I knew my aunts were all thinking something, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  It was connected to my magic. I knew it was. Somehow, those wards reacted badly with my silver magic—the one I couldn’t access yet. It’d flared when Snow had been allowed in the room.

  I knew the magic was dangerous. It was volatile and unpredictable, and that terrified me. Especially if it was capable of hurting me.

  I put the teacup on the table. “I’m sorry. I’m tired. I’m going to lie down.” I jumped up and left before anyone could protest otherwise.

  I wasn’t going to lie down.

  I was going to read my great-great-grandmother’s diary. That was undoubtedly the key to understanding this situation. I could meditate until the Smurfs staged an uprising and painted everyone blue, but meditation didn’t have the answers I needed.

  Ada Thorn’s Book of Shadows did.

  I locked the door to my bedroom and climbed onto my bed. Leaning over the edge, I felt under the bed for the box I’d spelled the book into. The power was a constant vibration, and I needed it locked away before I could sleep.

  My fingers connected with the shoe box, and I tugged it out from the wooden slats. My bed creaked as I hauled the box up to me and removed the spell locking it.

  I know. Locking a shoe box. That was what my life had become.

  The book vibrated with power as I pulled it out. The concealment spell Grandma had put on it must have been strong to last after her death. Not that I was surprised—I always knew she was an exceptionally talented witch, but the power contained within this book made me shiver.

  I set the book on the bed in front of me. The leather was worn and peeling from the corners, and the sheer volume of power that radiated from it w
as overwhelming. I never wanted to touch it again—I wanted to leave it there, buzzing, afraid of what it could do to me if I did.

  It was just a book. A book that held the secrets of immeasurable power, sure, but it was just a book.

  Paper and ink and leather, all bound together by cotton stitches.

  The air in the room shifted as Snow nudged open my bedroom door. She stalked in, tail in the air, pausing only to close the door properly. It clicked and locked again as Snow bounded up onto the bed.

  She stopped only to give the book a cursory look. Then, she padded across the bed and curled herself up against my leg. “Read the dang thing, then.”

  And here I thought she was being nice.

  I should have known better. She was a cat, after all. The epitome of indifference.

  I cast her a dark look before I swallowed and picked up the book. The second my fingers brushed the spine, the book quietened, almost as if it recognized the power within me.

  Well, I was glad something did. I sure as hell didn’t.

  Snow purred against my thigh. I picked up the book, bringing it to me, and leaned back on my pillows. The leather on the cover was soft despite its aged condition. I was almost afraid to open it in case it would fall apart on me, but a gentle pull on the brown string that bound it closed had the pages literally fluttering apart.

  Book of Shadows

  Ada Thorn

  1781

  The penmanship was pure cursive, and it was beautiful. The blue ink almost rippled with history as I cast my eyes over it again and again.

  1781.

  That was a long, long time ago.

  What if magic had changed since then?

  I took a deep breath and flipped to the next page carefully. It was full of the same writing, but it was written in a form of English I couldn’t understand. The most basic words had been substituted for other words, and I almost cursed at myself.

  Of course.

  Why would I be able to understand this? This book may as well have been from a different world. Back then, when Ada Thorn would have been writing this, English was a totally different language.

  Until…

  The pages blurred.