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Magic & Mini Skirts

Page 7

by Beverly Sanders


  I stared down at the screen with dread. Was it the police? Had they already realized I’d been less than truthful?

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “May I speak with Ginni Black?” A voice asked. I couldn’t be exactly sure, but it didn’t sound like Riley Shannon, nor did it sound like anyone else I knew.

  “Speaking.”

  “Ms. Black,” she began. “My name is Lucy Hale. I’m part of the Buckhead Luxe development group based here in Atlanta.”

  “Yes?”

  “As I’m sure you know, Hannah Alden has met an unfortunate end. As a result, we need another vendor to operate the space that once housed her store.”

  “All right . . .” I said, not sure where this was going.

  “We’ve noticed you listed as one of her clients. I’ve done a little bit of looking around and think your style would attract the customers we’re looking for. So, as a result, we’d like to offer you the space.”

  “Wait. What? My own store?”

  “Our own store?” Babbs whispered through the glass. “What? Really?”

  “Yes,” Lucy continued. “We know it’s short notice, but we believe Buckhead Luxe will be a huge success. You’ll need to renovate the space and bring in merchandise, and the store must be ready in two weeks. Does this sound like something you’d be interested in, Ms. Black?”

  There was a lot on the line here and I really wasn’t in the right head space to deal with any of it. This was my career, my future she was talking about, yet all I could think of was Nicco and how important I’d realized he was to me.

  “Ms. Black . . . are you there?”

  “What about her partner?” I asked. “Edward Tide.”

  “Edward Tide is a very successful businessman, yes. But his vision of Buckhead Luxe is not what we had in mind. Without Hannah to guide him, I’m afraid the store will fail. So again, that leads back to you. Would you be interested?”

  “Yes.” I fumbled. “I’m . . . yes. I–we–can do it.” I looked at my best friend. Like so many times before, if I was going to get through this, I was going to need her help. And just like always, I knew I could count on it.

  “All right,” she chirped. “There’s just a little paperwork to finish. Meet me at the store tomorrow afternoon. Let’s say two o’clock?”

  “Sure,” I replied. “Thanks.”

  To say I was taken aback would be an understatement of the grossest kind. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t the words or even the right emotions. Had this really happened? Had I just ben offered my own space in what was sure to be a high-end, high-traffic shopping promenade?

  “Was that for real?” Babbs tried her best to stay calm. “Are we really going to have a space at Luxe?”

  “I think so,” I replied.

  “Oh . . . my . . . God!” She leapt to her feet, merlot splashing up from her glass and landing in puddles around her. She was excited, and understandably so, and then she caught my eyes. “Oh . . . sorry, babe. I just kind of got hung up in the excitement. We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

  “I know,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  A quick change of clothes later and we were on the street, headed to meet Finn . . .

  “How do you wanna work this thing?” Babbs asked. “Spend all night talking about the garbage fire that is our current situation? Or assume it’ll all work out and talk about this new store like everything’s fine?”

  “I was thinking we pick a color,” I said. “Something bright and bold. Like a Screaming Magenta. We’ll use it as an accent around the store, and we’ll paint all the mannequins that color to match.”

  “That’s my girl.” Babbs smiled. “And yeah. Screaming Magenta . . . I love that!”

  There was a calmness emanating from her. Probably not on purpose or anything, even though, yes, she was technically an empath. But whether she meant to or not, she was helping me a million times over by just talking with me, just being there to give me a shoulder when I needed one.

  “Wait,” Babbs said as we stopped at the corner of Peachtree and Eight. “Is that . . .”

  “Nicco,” I said, my mind struggling to find the truth in what I was seeing. “Is that . . . it is. That’s Nicco!”

  He stood in the window of a small coffee shop, watching me intently. I could see the deep blue of his eyes, his dark hair, and deep dimples. His muscular physique perfectly filled out his grey T-shirt. I ran toward him, my body slamming into the side of a car. I fell down, hard, then jumped back up and made a beeline for the door. I entered the café to find him nowhere in sight.

  “Where is he?” Babbs said breathlessly, running through the glass door.

  “Not here,” I said.

  “No. He’s here. I just saw him.” The sound of a closing door echoed softly through the small room. “There. He went out the back.”

  “Why is he doing this?” I asked, running toward the back door.

  I spilled out into the alleyway behind the coffee house. There was nothing, no sign that anyone had been back there for days. Cardboard boxes and stray bottles littered the edges of the pavement. A pile of broken glass crushed under my feet as I stepped forward, my eyes scanning the fire escapes and rooftops. I saw nothing.

  “It was him,” I said. “Right?”

  “Absolutely,” Babbs replied. “I saw him.”

  “Why would he do this, Babbs? Why would he run from me? Do you think—”

  “No!” She stomped her foot against the hard ground. “Don’t even. You know it isn’t true. Maybe he’s afraid. Maybe he knows the police are looking for him. I don’t know.”

  “He wouldn’t run from me. You know that. Not unless—”

  “You don’t know what happened in that room. There’s no need to speculate. It won’t solve anything. We need to get to Finn and find out what this stupid symbol means. Maybe once we do that, we can use the magic in it to find the truth. Right now, that’s the only card we have to play.”

  “What about Nicco?”

  “He’s obviously fine. Besides, no one in their right mind would try to take him, and if the police get on his trail, he can literally turn into a wolf. No one’s going to arrest a wolf. The best thing we can do for him and for us is to find out what’s going on.”

  “You’re right,” I replied, steadying myself. “Let’s go. I don’t think he’s out here.”

  That was a lie. I felt him watching me. I could smell the traces of his Lycan blood in the air. He was watching me. I knew it, and he knew I knew it. That must have been why he’d let me see him in the first place. So that I would know he hadn’t abandoned me. So that I would know he was there if I needed him. It was at once comforting and infuriating.

  “He’ll be back,” Babbs said, a restrained optimism in her voice.

  “I know.”

  11

  “Should we really be doing this?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Babbs replied. “We have some time to kill, and besides, it might be helpful to know a little bit more about her. Especially now that the whole city is on the lookout for your guy. We don’t have much time to kill. And now we’ve got a while store to deal with too.”

  Hannah’s apartment was a large open space decorated in black and white with bright silver accents and trim. It was a bit more modern that I expected after meeting her, though it was still lovely. It wasn’t magic, at least not witch magic, but there was something in the air. Something thick and dark.

  “Do you feel that?” I turned to Babbs.

  “I do.”

  “What is it?”

  “Magic,” she said. “I don’t know what kind, but I’ve felt it before.”

  Perhaps it was because she’d spent her life in the mortal realm or because she was empathic. Whatever the reason, though, Babbs always seemed to be super-sensitive to magic of all kinds. Heck, I’d been in the city for less than an hour when she felt my presence and sought me out. And I knew there were more kinds of magic than I was familiar with.

 
Back in Enchanted Lake, they try to tell you that our realm is the only one for witches, the only place to survive and the only kind of magic that truly exists. It took me a while to figure out how wrong they were. The world is full of other magic, other kinds of spells and charms. There were beings my people never spoke of, enchantments they never taught. Not only was there a whole other world out there, but there were tons of them.

  “Look at that.” I stepped into her bedroom. “Is that the symbol?”

  “No,” Babbs said, stepping closer. “It looks a lot like it though. It’s definitely related. And look . . . more Lycan stuff.” She pointed to a tall dresser.

  Atop it sat a small wolf statue surrounded by candles, all of which had been burnt to the wick. Incense filled the still air. It was dark and woody and it reminded me of Nicco.

  “She wasn’t a witch,” I said. “She was a werewolf.”

  “Looks like it,” Babbs replied. “But if that’s the case, then what happened in that store?”

  It was a good question. And once again, against my better judgment, it had me questioning Nicco’s innocence.

  “If she was a werewolf, then . . .”

  “It kind of makes sense,” Babbs replied. “Think about it. Nicco would have much less of a problem killing another Lycan. Then there’s the whole thing about the lady taking her body from the morgue. Maybe the lycanthropes have strict burial practices. Do you know?”

  “I don’t. Nicco never mentioned it.”

  We looked around the apartment a little longer, uncovering more and more clues, each one helping to strengthen our suspicion of Hannah being a werewolf. And then we saw it. The photo.

  “Babbs.” I pointed to the small photo next to her bed. “Isn’t that the woman from the video? The one who was wearing the skirt?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Look at the picture frame,” I said. “Sisters.”

  It made me feel better to know it was Hannah’s sister who had taken her body. There was just something so wrong about the thought of a stranger taking a corpse, about what their intentions could be. It made my skin crawl. I felt better knowing she was in the hands of family.

  “Maybe Abben will know,” Babbs said. “About the burial practices of the lycanthropes. At the very least, it might help shed some light on the situation. The more information we have about her, the easier it will be to figure this thing out.”

  “Fine,” I said. “We need to meet back up with them anyway. I’m sure Kianna has already told her we’re going to Mistros.”

  “She’ll love that, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, yeah. She’ll be over the damn moon.”

  Off to the library . . .

  I saw Abben’s face almost as soon as I opened the door. She’d been expecting me, I could tell. And she didn’t look so happy either. No surprise there, right? A long black skirt hung nearly to the floor, hiding some pretty killer legs. I could see the edge of her shoe peeking out from under the flowing fabric. It was red with black trim and had some sort of embroidery on the side. Maybe my good taste was rubbing off on her.

  “Do you know anything about the lycanthrope burial practices?” I asked.

  “I know a little. I also know you’ll be experiencing them firsthand if you go to Mistros.”

  “I see you’ve spoken to Kianna,” I said.

  “I have,” she replied. “Going to visit that wolf’s family was one thing. But going to Mistros . . . that’s an entirely different beast altogether. It’s much more dangerous and just an all-around bad idea.”

  “The police have Nicco’s name and picture. It’s only a matter of time before they find him or before they find out we were lying to them about knowing him. I’m not just going to sit around and let Edward Tide or anyone else get away with framing Nicco just to save his own ass!”

  “Still, though, going to Mistros has never been a good idea for any witch, ever,” Abben replied.

  “What about the symbol?” I asked. “Did you figure anything else out?”

  “Not really. But I’m sure you’ll get to the bottom of it somewhere along your ill-fated journey.”

  “Then come with me,” I said. “We’re stronger in numbers and I’m going no matter what anyone says.”

  The conversation continued on like that for a while, Abben ensuring me I was walking into my death and my telling her that wasn’t enough to stop me. For a while, I was sure she was going to stay behind, to just let Babbs and me march to the beat of our own drum. Don’t get me wrong. I couldn’t have blamed her if she had. Taking care of me wasn’t her job. We were friends, not family.

  “I can’t,” she said. “None of us can. It’s part of the oath we took when we formed the Haerewayh Coven. We can’t allow wolves in here and we can’t go there. The information here, the information we keep . . . it’s too valuable. If they got it, we don’t know what they could do with it.”

  “I understand,” I said, having never even considered what might happen if the lycanthropes were to get ahold of these books and artifacts. Abben was right. The chances were just too great. They’d sworn to protect the library and I couldn’t ask them to abandon that.

  12

  I woke to find myself lying in a dark field surrounded by my friends. As it turned out, in order for Finn to take us to Mistros, we had to agree to be blindfolded as well as placed under some sort of Lycan curse that would keep us sleeping until we crossed the border. According to him, this was the only way we’d make it through without setting off alarms.

  As my eyes came into focus, I could only assume it worked. We all seemed to be there, and from the looks of it, we hadn’t been snacked on by any stray wolves. We were off to a good start, I guess . . .

  “All right.” I wrestled myself to my feet. “What now?”

  “We need to wait for Babbs to wake,” Finn replied.

  I’d seen sketches of Mistros before, and I’d heard tales of how different it was from my own home, but I could never have expected this. There was something in the air here, something you could feel. Back in Enchanted Lake, there was magic in the air, a kind of empowering presence that wrapped itself around you, one that invaded your lungs with every breath. It inspired confidence and growth.

  But here the air was something else entirely. There was a danger in it, as though it were calling out to me, scratching at my soul as it tried to find the darkness it was looking for. I took a deep breath, feeling it fill my chest with its hot thickness. In a way, it reminded me of Nicco, only much stronger and far more dangerous.

  “What’s up with this place?” I asked Finn as I looked up to the dark sky. Hues of blacks and purples spread out in long, deep streaks. They crossed paths in an intricate and diverse way, almost as if . . .

  “Are the clouds moving like that?” I asked. “I mean, I know all clouds move, but those look like they’re—”

  “Alive?” he said. “They are. Think of it like a communication system used between Alphas.”

  “What are they saying?”

  “I’m not an Alpha, so I can’t read them. But something tells me it has a little something to do with the two witches who just crossed our borders.”

  “What?” I snapped. “I thought you said we’d be safe.”

  “You will be,” he said, slinging Babbs over his shoulder and walking away. “Just do what I say and you’ll be fine. Now come on.”

  Each step felt like a hundred, like I was trudging my way through a thick mud I couldn’t see. Nothing here was the same. The trees were different, the land was different, and it was all doing its best to change me, or at least that’s the way it felt. I heard whispers in the air, small voices calling out me to me, asking me to stop, to come closer, to find them.

  I looked to my left to see a large forest. Tall, thick trees outstretched their limbs like arms, each one interlocking with the next to create a prefect web of shade that no sunlight could penetrate. I saw something move, coming closer to the edge of the woods. It looked at me. Its eyes,
the only thing I could see, stared deep into my own.

  “Don’t,” Finn said to me. “This place will try to trick you if you let it. Don’t listen. Don’t look. Just follow.”

  I tried to shake it off, running my hands across my face and shaking my head.

  “Hey . . .” Babbs finally woke. “What’s happening?”

  “We’re headed to the caves,” Finn replied, putting her on her feet. “It’s not far now. Just try to stay focused on me. Don’t listen to anything you hear or see. Don’t stop.”

  “What the . . .” Babbs looked at the sky. “This place—”

  “I know,” I replied. “It’s crazy!”

  One torturous walk later and we were walking through the mouth of a pretty creepy looking cave . . .

  “There!” I said, spotting the symbol on the wall. “That’s it!”

  “Quick!” Finn replied, suddenly seeming a bit more nervous. “Snap the pictures!”

  I quickly grabbed my phone and snapped as many photos as possible. The image was surrounded by text and other images. To me, it looked pretty much like what I’d already seen before, but this was all we had to go on. The best I could hope for was that Abben would be able to do something with this information. And then a curious thought hit me.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked.

  “What?” Finn replied.

  “Abben wouldn’t come here because she was afraid of your people getting our history. So why give me full access to yours?”

  “I . . .” He stumbled. “Because I believe you when you say you’re trying to do the right thing. Besides, at this point, most of the mortal realm is under the impression that your boyfriend is responsible for murder. It doesn’t look good on the Lycan community.”

  “Ginni.” Babbs turned to me. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying . . .” A wave of anger washed over me, soaking me in world of anger and mistrust. “I’m just saying maybe he’s not the nice guy we all thought he was. Maybe he’s brought us here to trap us. Or to take our magic.” I felt my fists ball up, magic resonating from them.

 

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