Safe Hex: A Hexy Witch Mystery (Womby's School for Wayward Witches Book 16)

by Sarina Dorie

  She didn’t look up, but the sudden silence alerted me that she knew I was spying on her. All sweetness from her voice was gone. “You might as well come in. I already know you’re there.”

  I crept up beside her. Inside the jeweled coffin lay Dora’s little form, too small for the adult-sized box.

  Vega turned her face away from me and wiped the tears from her eyes. I pretended I didn’t notice.

  “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I’ve always been the one who wanted to be able to converse with the dead, but you’re the one with that skill, not me.”

  “You talk to the dead, though.”

  “Yes, but it’s usually a one-sided conversation.” She sighed despondently. “That used to be enough for me, but not anymore.”

  She smoothed a hand over Dora’s forehead. Her hair was clean, and there no longer were any bruises or blood marring her face. Vega had dressed the girl in a white dress with pink ribbons and lace that the girl had adored.

  Tears filled Vega’s eyes. “Will you try to wake her so we can talk to her?”

  I’d never seen so much pleading or desperation in her visage.

  “I don’t know if it will work. I don’t have as much magic as I used to.” It broke my heart seeing Dora dead. If I could have woken her permanently, I would have.

  “You still have your passive magic,” Vega said. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? Your presence draws out the powers in others. Your touch wakes the dead.”

  Would it work? Dora hadn’t woken from death before when she was dead on the floor and I’d touched her. She hadn’t woken from Imani’s electricity.

  “Have you considered how she might react when she wakes?” I asked. “Do you remember how confused Sebastian Reade was? This little girl just went through a traumatic shock and was attacked by the Raven Court. She might wake up screaming.”

  “Then I will be here to comfort her.” Vega lifted her nose stubbornly.

  “Do you know what you want say to her?”

  “Stop trying to get out of this. I want to see you raise the dead.”

  I placed my hands on Dora’s. Her flesh was cold and felt strange, like putty. I didn’t like the idea of what we were doing, resurrecting the dead. There was a reason this was forbidden magic. Death was natural. Resurrection wasn’t. I wanted Dora to be alive, but I didn’t want to create an army of walking zombies who would eat our flesh. Not that I knew if Red affinity magic did that.

  For the briefest of moments, I thought I saw Dora’s eyelashes flutter, but it must have been a trick of the light. She remained as still as a corpse, which sort of made sense. Maybe it wasn’t working because Dora didn’t have any unfinished business.

  “Maybe we should let the dead rest,” I said.

  “Maybe you should shut your fucking mouth and concentrate.”

  I hadn’t concentrated when I’d done this before. It had happened naturally.

  “Say the magic words,” Vega said. “The ones you said when you woke Sebastian Reade. ‘Abra-cadaver’?”

  I’d just made up words and quoted Harry Potter spells I remembered from the books. That hadn’t had anything to do with it. Perhaps she didn’t realize I hadn’t said any words to make Galswintha the Wise awaken.

  Even so, I humored her. “Abra-cadaver. Alohomora. Wingardium leviosa. Abra-cadaver.” I chanted the words as though it were a Witchkin spell.

  Dora drew in a breath and stirred. I was so startled, I flinched back, about to loosen my hold on her, but Vega’s hand clamped down over my own, holding me there.

  “Don’t you dare wimp out on me now,” Vega hissed.

  Dora’s eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes. Vega leaned closer, smoothing Dora’s hair from her forehead, smiling warmly.

  Dora glanced around confused before her gaze settled on Vega. “I had a bad dream, Mommy.”

  “Yes, you did, darling,” Vega said. This was the first time I hadn’t heard Vega correct her.

  The little girl sat up. Vega circled an arm around her, tender with the child.

  Dora smiled at me. She turned her hands over in mine and squeezed them. “Hello, Ms. Lawrence. Is it time for a lesson?”

  My throat tightened, sorrow making it hard to speak. “Not yet. Maybe another time.”

  Dora tried to tug her hands away, but I needed to keep contact with her. I switched my handhold to her ankles just above her socks.

  She touched her dress, searching for something. “I can’t find my pocket. My present is in my pocket.”

  “I changed your dress. I had to. It was . . . dirty,” Vega said. “I can fetch your present and give it to you in a moment.”

  “It wasn’t a present for me. It was a present for you.”

  Vega turned away, hiding her face from Dora.

  “What kind of present?” I asked, forcing a smile. “Another rock?”

  “It was a pretty picture. Miss Imani helped me write your name on it. She said I can make my letters good now.”

  Vega’s shoulder shook. It made it that much harder for me to keep it together.

  “I want you to know. . . .” Vega drew in a deep breath, the words obviously difficult for her. “Mommy loves you, and she would do anything for you.”

  “I know.”

  Vega chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Oh, you do?”

  “Yes. Miss Imani told me that’s why you won’t let me have cookies before bedtime—because you don’t want my teeth to rot since you love me.”

  “That’s right.” Vega hugged the girl and kissed her forehead. “Be a good girl for Mommy, and lie down so you can go back to sleep.”

  Dora did so. “Good night, Mommy. Good night, Ms. Lawrence.”

  I couldn’t answer. If I did, I would start bawling and upset her.

  Vega sang her lullaby, her voice growing huskier as she sang. Dora watched her, a smile on her cupid lips, pleased by all the attention Vega was giving her. When she closed her eyes, I let go of her ankles. I placed a hand on Vega’s shoulder, hesitant, afraid she might snap at me.

  Instead she turned to me and sobbed on my shoulder.

  “I need a dragon egg,” she said. “I have everything else. I just need that one ingredient.”

  Alouette Loraline had used Galswintha the Wise’s spell to try to solve the Fae Fertility Paradox. Instead, she’d accidentally resurrected a demon.

  A dragon egg was all that was stopping Vega from using the do-anything spell to raise the dead—and raise hell with the Raven Court. I wondered what kind of demon Vega would accidentally resurrect once she got her hands on a dragon egg.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  You Say I’m a Witch Like It’s a Bad Thing

  Vega had her methods for building her powers and getting revenge. If I was going to be able to rescue Imani from the Raven Queen, I was going to have to get over my insecurities just as Vega had said—and have lots of sex with her husband.

  I had grown more comfortable in the arrangement between Elric and I for remedying my magical malady. Some of the initial awkwardness I’d felt about being watched by Elric as Thatch and I made love had lessened. And Thatch had shown that he was willing to be present and assist when Elric was pleasuring me.

  That weekend after a tryst that involved them both, I lay in the bed of one of the repaired guestrooms, snuggled between the two of them. Elric smiled, a contented smile on his face. But through all the sparkles of his Fae glamour, I recognized the fatigue tugging at his frame. Glimpses of dark bruises flickered through his façade. His eyes had changed to green during our lovemaking and remained fixed there. Usually his eyes shifted. Something strange was going on with his magic.

  Thatch’s eyes were closed. He looked relaxed, his guard down.

  Both of them were satiated and happy. That’s how I knew it was time to attack.

  I pinched Thatch’s arm. He smiled.

  “I need to know about the bargain you two made,�
� I said. “It’s putting the entire castle and everyone in it at risk.”

  Thatch smirked. “Haven’t you heard Vega? This isn’t a castle.”

  Elric shook his head at Thatch. I didn’t know whether the gesture was intended to chide Thatch’s snarky comment or as a warning about my insistence.

  Thatch inclined his head, pointed to me, and then tilted his head toward the door. He was saying something, but I couldn’t gauge what.

  “What’s this nodding and shaking your heads business?” I asked imitating their gestures. “What are you saying?”

  “Nothing,” they both said at the same time.

  “You’re using telepathy, aren’t you?”

  Elric groaned. “That would have been so much smarter. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because you are a moron,” Thatch said.

  Elric sat up, tucking the covers around me. “Might we have a moment of privacy alone without you to speak?” He kissed my forehead, as if that would endear me to him.

  “To talk about me?” I asked.

  “She isn’t stupid,” Thatch said. “She’s only going to be angrier when she figures it out.”

  “Figures what out?” I asked.

  Elric drew me out of bed. A robe appeared in his hand. He shook it out and draped it around me, the fabric slithering into place. I had a feeling he shouldn’t have expended so much magic on such a small gesture.

  Elric waved his hand in the air. The lights shifted, and I was no longer in the guestroom with them. I was in Vega’s room, by the looks of it. I didn’t know who else would invest in such morbid decor. She had hung pictures of skeletons in beautiful frames. I stood in front of the dressing screen that had once been in our room at Womby’s but was now here. The painting on the screen showed spiky twigs of a cherry tree impaling insects and birds, the red clusters of blood resembling flowers upon first glance.

  Her room had survived the attack from the Raven Court well—or she’d magically put it back together.

  The layout of the room was similar to mine but bigger. Instead of art supplies strewn over a table by the window, there was a coffin on pedestals. Light from the window fell on the polished wood lid. It wasn’t the jewel-encrusted coffin from the crypt. This must have been Vega’s spare.

  I surveyed the room, unable to look away from the macabre art on the walls. Everything was gold and silver and maroon in this room, more like a vampire-bordello movie than something bright and light as might be found in the estate of one from the Silver Court. On one wall were framed watercolors, one I had made for Vega of Dox Woodruff emerging from a coffin, another of Elric. It felt intensely personal to be inside Vega’s room uninvited.

  I had a feeling she would kill me if she caught me in here without her permission. I tiptoed toward the door, hoping Vega was in the garden, occupied with teaching her charges forbidden magic, or feeding her baby.

  A creak came from the other side of the bed.

  “What are you doing?” Vega demanded from behind me.

  Thinking of the devil… .

  I whirled. Vega sat up in her coffin. Of all the incongruous things, I caught Vega in her pink dress, the one she supposedly hated.

  “What are you doing in there?” I asked.

  “Napping.” She crossed her arms. “Why are you in my room?”

  “Elric sent me here. Maybe he wanted us to spend some girl time together.”

  “You’re lying. I locked the door. How’d you get in?”

  “Magic. Not my magic. Elric transported me here.”

  “He’s not supposed to be using magic.” She looked me up and down, as if blaming me for her husband’s weakening state. “Why would he waste it on you?”

  “Elric and Thatch wanted a moment to talk about me, but they didn’t want me to hear.”

  She snorted. “That sounds like them.” She flung one long leg out of the coffin and then the next.

  I rushed over to lend her a hand, but she didn’t need my help. She slid out, her heels thumping onto the floor before she straightened the beaded gown.

  “I thought you didn’t like that dress,” I said.

  “I don’t.” Her eyes narrowed at me. “And you will not tell anyone you saw me wearing this color. Understand?”

  “Why? What’s wrong with pink?” So it wasn’t a good color on her. I didn’t see what the big deal was.

  She looked my pink robe up and down. “Pink is a color for weak little girls like you.”

  Now she was just being nasty. “Says who?”

  “Says the Raven Queen. Says any adult who has lived in this realm—or any other.” She drummed her nails against the polished coffin. “Says my parents.” Something flashed across her face—sorrow or regret perhaps—before her usual sneer resumed.

  She didn’t talk about her parents often. I suspected they were still alive because a couple years ago when I asked if she went home to her family for the holidays, she’d made a comment how she’d rather poke herself in the eye with her wand. I suspected she didn’t get along with her parents. It was curious she claimed she didn’t like pink because of them.

  “Do you listen to everything your parents tell you to do?” I asked.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You like to live dangerously, don’t you?”

  I rushed on before she decided to hex me. “You know what might be fun? Spying on Thatch and Elric.”

  “Fun for whom?” Vega sauntered over to the mirror, smoothing her already perfect hair.

  “Fun for us. Don’t you want to know what they’re talking about?”

  “I already know what they’re talking about: you. It just happens Elric enchanted my tongue so I’m not at liberty to speak about it. If you were smart, you would forget about how they talk about you behind your back and let them plan your life for you while you watch from the sidelines like a good little victim of circumstance.” A wicked smile slid across her lips.

  I crossed my arms. Vega hadn’t changed a whole lot since we’d been roommates. She was still a professional bitch queen.

  Her eyebrow arched upward. “Not that anyone ever said you were smart.”

  “Never mind. You can go back to taking a nap in your coffin or breastfeeding or whatever you do these days to fill your hours.” I turned to the door and left.

  I didn’t need Vega to help me. I had plenty of experience spying on Thatch at Womby’s. Though, usually I’d had the hallway of mirrors to help me.

  During the attack, I’d managed to use the mirror passageway to find the nursery, but I had no idea where these portals were located in the house.

  I navigated the back corridors and the servant passageways, but that really wasn’t what I was looking for. I needed to find a hallway of mirrors like what we had at the school. I didn’t have enough time to wait around until night to attempt to catch a brownie when they snuck out to do chores and good deeds. How had I even found their secret passage at school? It had been hidden by a tapestry.

  I started on the ground floor, dodging rubble and broken furniture that had been left in the wake of the Raven Court’s attack. I lifted tapestries, but behind each there was a solid wall. I groped the walls and decorative suits of armor, searching for secret levers without success.

  It was a stone statue of a unicorn in the corner of the parlor that ended up being the catalyst. I pressed on the unicorn’s horn and a grinding noise came from the other side of a tapestry. The wall had disappeared.

  Just like Womby’s, this estate contained a secret passage! I followed the hallway to a set of stairs that I was certain would take me to another dungeon. Instead, it opened to the hallway of portals the brownie had pulled me into, similar to the one at the school. Each window glowed with unearthly light, the view on the other side painted with silver moonlight, even though it was day. Every portal showed a different room, most of them bedrooms now in disarray, but some of them showed the interiors of other rooms like the study and parlor. A giant one t
he length of the mirrors in Imani’s dance room spanned a large section of the wall, though many places in the large portal were now cracked. The mirrors that showed other rooms didn’t seem to be in any order.

  “What is this place?” Vega asked from behind me.

  I jumped and whirled. She stared in wonder.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  She waved me off airily. “One of the maids told me you were behaving suspiciously, so I decided it would be entertaining to see what kind of methods you sought to employ for your spying. It’s just as well I decided to follow you. I can never tell what kind of trouble you’re going to get yourself into.” She walked the length of the window that looked into Imani’s dance room. There was a black, beaded dress draped over a chair in the corner. It looked like something Vega would wear. Maybe she used that room for dancing too, and it wasn’t just Imani’s.

  She jabbed a finger at me. “I answered you. Now you will answer me. What is this place? You’re obviously familiar with it.”

  “Not exactly. I just knew it existed.” I couldn’t believe Vega, with all her knowing about everything, didn’t know about brownie passages. “It’s how brownies get into our rooms to clean them and do good deeds.”

  She lifted her nose, glancing at the grimy floor with disdain. “If there are any brownies here, they’re the sort who play pranks. But that’s to be expected in a Fae household. They only do cleaning for Witchkin and humans.”

  She inspected other rooms, the other side silvery and bright, looking like a dreamworld. I walked on until I found the guestroom. Thatch and Elric weren’t there. I kept walking until I found them in a private study. Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, though many of the books were on the floor. This was one of the rooms that hadn’t been cleaned after the attack yet. They were both dressed.

  “Well, well, it looks like you actually know something . . . useful,” Vega said. “I should have offered to spy with you sooner.”

  I leaned closer to the portal. The view was from a large mirror that showed Thatch and Elric. I was careful not to touch the surface because it would alert them I was near.