“He could easily have found proof. We knew perfectly well that he was already friends with her,” said Josephine, pointing at me. “Maybe he already suspected her, for that matter.”
I glanced at Hansen, who stayed quiet. That was probably for the best, but I did wonder if he had suspected. Over the past few months he had grown frustrated by Charlie’s ability to always be one step ahead of him in pursuing stories. Maybe he had started to suspect that there was a reason for that. That there was in fact a reason for that gave me no comfort.
“Do you mean to tell me you could kill him and there would be no consequences?” Charlie demanded through gritted teeth. She wasn’t about to let that go, not after what she had just heard. In truth, in all the years I had known my friend I had never seen her so blindingly angry. She was outwardly calm, but only because the rage was too great to express.
“There would be no consequences in the coven. We would also be allowed to use more magic than usual in order to hide our tracks. Humans would never discover that we had done it,” said Josephine.
“And so why didn’t you just do that, since you don’t see any problem?” Charlie asked icily.
Josephine glared at her. “Of course we see a problem with it. We would never want to resort to such behavior. That’s why Scarlett tried to talk some sense into him. When that failed, we had to resort to more drastic measures. We have allowed the three of you to be involved out of courtesy, out of the chance that he is in fact a friend of yours,” she said, looking at me.
Now I felt Charlie, Greer, and Hansen’s and eyes on me.
“Hansen is a good friend of mine. He has been a good friend of all of us for a long time. I don’t think he would reveal our secret. Now that he knows it, though, we do have to decide what to do,” I said.
Charlie sucked in air through her teeth, ready to argue, but Greer gave her a subtle shake of the head. What I had said was true. Now that I had revealed who I really was, Hansen Gregory couldn’t just walk out the door. I thought murder was a little drastic, but we did need to talk. Maybe spells would be involved. In any event, I needed some time to think.
After a few moments of silence Charlie said, “Okay. He can’t go home tonight. Fine. He isn’t going to stay here, though. He can come home with us and stay at the farmhouse.” Then she leaned into me and whispered, “He can fill Paws in on what’s been going on for the last twenty-four hours. Paws is going to need to hear about it anyway. We’ll make sure Hansen comes to the coven meeting tomorrow night.”
I frowned but nodded.
The other two witches looked at me questioningly. “Does that work for you?” Josephine asked Scarlett.
Scarlett chewed her lip, still looking nervous. I knew she was unhappy that Hansen had followed her in the first place, and even before that, none of this would have happened if she hadn’t gone to see him at work. “I suppose it makes the most sense,” she said at last. “We’re sorry for kidnapping you.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Josephine through gritted teeth. “But okay, he can go home with you three tonight. Just keep an eye on him. I don’t know what will happen at the meeting if he doesn’t show up.” Then she walked over to Hansen. Charlie bristled but didn’t interfere.
Hansen finished his sandwich and looked up at Josephine, who said, “Don’t try to run. We will find you if you do.” She sounded more menacing than I could ever have imagined her being.
“I don’t think he’s going anywhere,” said Greer dryly, pushing herself away from the door jamb she’d been leaning against. “I have to get to work now. I’m going to be late as it is. Can you drop me off? We don’t need all three of us to babysit him, do we?” It was more a statement than a question.
Charlie quickly ushered us out, not wanting to linger with the two witches, whom she was reassessing. When we reached the Beetle, Hansen climbed into the back, having made no move to run. I’d had a vague notion that he might try dashing down the street and getting away, but now I smiled a bit at the idea.
“What are you smirking about?” Charlie asked from the back seat.
“Relax,” said Greer. Once we were moving, I glanced at the storefront one last time. Both of my witch friends were watching us go.
Hansen leaned his head against the seat. “Thanks for getting me out of there. I didn’t know . . . what was going to happen for a bit there.”
“You’re welcome. Sorry about . . . Scarlett and Josephine,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows and stared straight ahead. “I know that there are occupational hazards. I’m sure Charlie has thought about them as well. The existence of supernaturals was not one that had occurred to me, especially supernaturals with a different set of rules from my own. I’m not saying I should have thought harder before printing that stuff, but tonight was certainly a surprise.”
“You stand by your reporting?” I asked, my hands tightening on the wheel. Suddenly I wasn’t sure where this was going.
“I told you this was a problem,” said Charlie from the back seat. To Hansen she added, “Why can’t you just be boring?”
“The eternal question,” he said dreamily. “Life is so much more colorful this way. And magical, as it turns out. Also, if I were boring, I could never keep up with you.”
Charlie opened her mouth as if to say something else, then closed it with a snap. She was doing a lot of that this morning.
“You’re being awfully calm about this,” Greer pointed out.
“It was my own reporting,” said Hansen. “I wasn’t expecting witches with wands, I’ll be honest. I was more expecting women who dressed up as witches, burned herbs, and called it magic. Be that as it may, I had a very liberal upbringing, thanks to my mother. To be honest, I’m glad there are witches. It makes life more fun.”
“I guarantee you’re only saying that because you haven’t met them all yet,” I said.
“Maybe that’s true,” Hansen admitted. “However, I know you, and you’re pretty awesome. Who’s to say that the rest of you aren’t like that?”
“Me. I’m saying it right now,” I said. “And if we don’t figure out what to say to them tomorrow night, we might have a really big problem on our hands.”
Hansen was quiet for a while after that. We dropped Greer off at the bar and headed for the farmhouse in silence. By the time we got home it was dark fully dark outside, and all the ghosts were visible on the lawn. The tea ladies looked at us sharply. They always looked disapproving; it was simply a question of the degree of severity at any given moment. Tonight they were going for gold. Tank the ghost rabbit was hopping around chatting with the mice. Paws was watching them as if he almost felt jealous. When they noticed our car, they all tried to look busy.
Charlie glanced at me from the back seat, wondering if I would allow Hansen to see the ghosts. I didn’t think that made any sense for tonight; I honestly had no idea what to do with him.
“Charlie, can you take Hansen inside and get him set up comfortably? I’ll be in in a few minutes,” I told her. I felt a headache coming on and I needed a minute to think. The fact that the Witches’ Council was already involved changed everything.
Charlie agreed. She and Hansen headed toward the house, Charlie keeping up a running commentary on all the things he had done wrong recently. Hansen’s voice was as quiet and measured as usual, but I couldn’t make out the actual words.
Paws looked skeptical as he watched them go. “What’s going on here?” he asked. “Since when does Charlie have male guests over in the evening?”
Charlie’s head whipped around and she opened her mouth to reply, then got herself under control. She took a long time closing the door, hoping to hear my reply, but I waited her out. When she was finally inside I said, “He’s not a guest of Charlie. He’s a guest of all three of us.”
“Why is he staying the night? Has his life been threatened?” Paws asked.
“How did you know?” I said.
“Who threatened him?” Paws asked.
I sat on the po
rch and filled him in, Mr. Bone and Tank drifting nearby to listen to the story. The light in the living room came on while I talked. I was certain Charlie was making Hansen comfortable, and hopefully she was also getting him more than just the sandwich to eat. I wasn’t sure we had any spare clothes that would fit him, but I was sure he could make do for one night.
When I finished the story, Paws swore and Mr. Bone looked displeased. “I can see why they got antsy,” said Paws, “but they still shouldn’t have kidnapped him. He didn’t really know anything before, and because of them, you’ve now had to reveal your secret. To a reporter, no less.”
“Right. No other reporter knows my secret,” I said dryly.
“Charlie Silver is family,” Paws retorted. “She has proven her worth. I don’t know about this Hansen Gregory. He was warned away from the story and instead he jumped further in.”
“Too good-looking,” was Mr. Bone’s contribution.
I glanced at the ghost cat. “I could really use some advice,” I said. “The coven meets tomorrow night, and I haven’t been to a meeting since they threatened Jasper. I’m not certain it’s going to go well.”
“Not going well is my specialty,” said Paws.
“We all know that,” Tank added.
“I think you should go in with your wand on fire and tell them what’s what,” Mr. Bone suggested. “They don’t get to attack your friends.”
“I’m not sure they’re going to listen to me,” I said.
“You never know,” said Tank. “You just have to tell them straight that Hansen isn’t going to spill your secret. If it makes them feel better to threaten him, they can. He can take it.” There was a pause before Tank added, “I think.”
I flinched. I didn’t like the idea of Hansen being talked to that way. Yes, he had brought some of this on himself, but Charlie wasn’t going to stand for it either.
“What about Hansen?” I asked.
Tank and Mr. Bone started to throw out endless suggestions about what to do with the good-looking reporter, each crazier than the last.
“You could put him on a ship and sail him to Colorado,” suggested Tank.
“Colorado is landlocked,” I told him.
“Then just get the key,” said Tank, completely not comprehending.
“No, you don’t understand. He can’t sail there,” I said.
“Don’t put limits on the wonders you’re willing to imagine,” said Tank stoutly.
“In my dreams, bunnies can’t talk,” said Paws.
“See what I mean? And that’s really never going to happen,” said Tank proudly.
“What do you think, Paws?” I asked through gritted teeth.
The cat licked his paws and took so long to answer that I almost gave up. Finally, just when I was about to take my shoe off and throw it at him, he said, “The thing is, your circle of trust has been expanding already. Charlie, Greer, and Jasper all know your secret. Nothing bad has happened. Hansen just has to be brought into that circle as well.”
“The others I have known since high school,” I argued. “They have a reason for not selling me out to the public.”
“Anyone who knows you has just as much reason as the next individual,” muttered Paws. I glared at the cat.
“So you think I should just nicely ask Hansen to keep quiet, and he will?” I asked.
“Sure, that’s what I think. Don’t get me wrong. Nice would never work on me, but that reporter is made of softer stuff. Butter instead of steel.” Paws flashed his shimmering claws as if that gesture made some point.
“Spare me the yammering of black cats,” grumbled Tank.
Paws narrowed his eyes on the rabbit. “Keep quiet. You haven’t said much that’s helpful. Hansen’s life is in danger. It is by far in his best interest to keep quiet. If he doesn’t, the other coven witches will be furious, and there won’t be a thing he can do against them. He must understand that. I said he was soft, not an idiot. I might be willing to say both in a few days.”
I sighed. Paws had a point. Hansen already knew. He was so entwined in our lives that going back on the secret would never work. I just hoped he was willing to keep quiet.
“It’s going to change some things going forward,” I muttered.
“Change is inevitable,” said Mr. Bone sagely. “It’s what you do with it that counts.”
“Personally, I like to pretend it isn’t happening,” said Paws.
“Thanks for the advice. I think it’s time for me to go talk to Hansen,” I said.
“Any time,” said Tank with a fake salute.
“Speak for yourself,” ordered Paws.
“I did,” said Tank smugly.
Paws rolled his eyes. I stood up and left them to it.
Chapter Three
When I got inside I saw something surprising. The living room was brightly lit, as usual. The air outside had been cold, and it was a relief to come inside where the heat was on and the fire was lit.
What was surprising was the pile of blankets and pillows covering the green couch. From his perch in an armchair by the fire, Hansen smiled. From the kitchen I could hear the sound of banging.
“She’s cooking,” he said. “She didn’t want me to help.”
“You’ve been through enough,” she yelled through the door.
“You should have tried harder to help her,” I said in a voice that I hoped was low enough so that Charlie couldn’t hear.
A grin lit his face. “I tried pretty hard. After hardly eating for the past day, I’m pretty sure I can eat burnt food.”
“Right,” I muttered. “Sorry about that. Again.”
Guilt was tugging at me. I wasn’t entirely certain why, because what had happened to Hansen wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t possibly have known, right?
“Jasper called. He’s coming over,” said Hansen.
I went utterly still. Jasper and I were still in limbo. “Oh?”
“So maybe you should say your piece before he gets here,” Hansen suggested.
My mind flashed from thought to thought. Should I tell him that Jasper knew what I was? Maybe Jasper should tell him that he himself knew? Hansen and I hadn’t even had the conversation yet, so who even knew what he would think about Jasper.
I sighed. “Maybe you should begin at the beginning. I want to know everything.”
“Well, it was pretty simple. There have been rumors of witches around here ever since I moved here. Strange goings on. The normal stuff. Sometimes people would take me aside and point out witches to me. They pointed out other things, too. People love to point out ‘undiscovered’ stories to reporters, at least in this small town.
“Anyway, I didn’t put much stock in it for years. I had other stuff to keep me busy. But then I started thinking about it more often. I started asking more questions, and I started to wonder: What if it’s true? There was that day a long time ago when I remember coming to Mintwood from Caedmon, and there were a bunch of strangely dressed women around. Now, I don’t mean to judge women’s fashions, but they all looked pretty witchy to me.”
I remembered that time. It had been around the time when I had become the Witch of Mintwood, and other witches had come to inspect the goods. Apparently their presence had also tipped off a reporter.
I nodded my head to show him I was still listening.
“When I started writing the articles, I didn’t think much would come of it. There were no names or specifics. Anytime I asked anyone for names of who was actually a witch, they clammed up. Now I realize it might have been because they didn’t know, but then again, maybe they had some idea how bloodthirsty you all are.”
From the kitchen we heard a crash and then a lengthy diatribe consisting mostly of swear words. Hansen had to cover his mouth to keep his laugh silent. When he was under control again he continued, but now his dark blue eyes were dancing.
I realized with a start that Charlie’s distinct personality invariably had that effect on Hansen.
“We were ha
ving some slow times at the paper, and my editor thought more of a puff piece would be good. I had been hassling them for a while to print the articles I was writing. I thought they were excellent human interest stories. I was also worried that Charlie would get the scoop first. Little did I know that she already had the scoop and had chosen not to write about it. She lived with the very witches I had heard about, but she had chosen not to put it in print, and now I’m sorry I did so myself. I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble. I certainly didn’t mean to get dragged to a coven meeting.”
“You’re sorry you published the articles?” I said. Journalists went pretty far for stories. Maybe not small town reporters, but still.
Hansen shook his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if I’d had a witch’s permission, but I didn’t. I want to get scoops, but I also want to understand the subject I’m writing about. Otherwise what’s the point? I’m not certain I understood the subject,” he said. “Clearly. If I had, I wouldn’t have been kidnapped.”
“And how exactly did that happen?’ I asked.
He sighed. “Scarlett asked to meet again, this time alone. In the woods. It was stupid. I left a note about where I had gone, but they’re witches – you’re witches. They performed some spell that called the note to them, then they burned it. Scarlett had asked to meet at the base of Mintwood Mountain, so of course I went. I thought maybe she’d had a change of heart. After what I’d seen, I thought maybe she’d be willing to do an interview. Even an anonymous one on the record would be enough. That would be national news. So I went, and she wasn’t alone. Josephine was there, and they were both furious. Next thing I knew I was bound and blindfolded in the back of a truck. Not comfortable, and definitely the most terrified I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Did they tell you they were calling me?” I asked. I appreciated the fact that Hansen was willing to talk. I needed to know as much as possible. The coven meeting was coming right up, and Hansen’s fate would be decided there. I wasn’t sure I’d have any control over it, but the more information I had to work with, the more chance I had of influencing the outcome.
Mintwood's Magical Map Page 2