Witch Cast (A Mackenzie Coven Mystery Book 3)

by Sonia Parin

  Just how thorough was she going to be?

  “Necklace.” Lexie swung back toward the mirror and finished brushing her teeth. She glanced at the reflection and saw Octavia writing on an invisible notepad... she assumed. “It’s missing,” Lexie added. “Here one moment, gone the next.”

  “When was the last time you saw it?”

  “Right before the specter of Miss Lucinda Cunningham beckoned me to follow her, and I’m sure I had it on when I returned home. But then my cousins appeared and they insisted I tell them about Miss Lucinda Cunningham...”

  “I heard about the unfortunate incident.” Octavia pursed her lips. “Sorry, I have a tendency to express my opinions. It’s a habit I’m trying to break.”

  “I don’t mind opinions. Feel free.”

  “Perhaps you could go easier on you’re make-up. It made you look like a hooker—” Octavia clamped her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened into a horrified expression.

  Lexie rinsed her mouth and turned. “A hooker? Really?”

  Octavia gave a small nod. “Sorry. I should explain...”

  Lexie held up a finger. “Let me guess.” Honesty... a coven disbanded. Their members aligned to other covens... “After 380 years you’re still bound to tell the truth as assurance you won’t rise up against your host coven?”

  Octavia gave a small nod.

  Lexie folded her arms. “Can you tell me how I just figured that out because I have no idea?”

  “You have high intuitive skills. A natural gift, in your case enhanced by the fact that you’re a High Chair.”

  “In coming.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “So you’re compelled to always tell the truth. That could get awkward,” Lexie mused.

  “My apologies... in advance.”

  Lexie stepped out of the bathroom and strode around her bedroom. “An intern.”

  “Yes.”

  “Here to help me?”

  “Yes.”

  “So... that would make you a sort of personal assistant.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Okay. This could work out really well.” She swung around. “Are you by any chance and in any way associated with Mirabelle?”

  “The High Chair of the British Isles?” Octavia asked in a tone that spoke of deep admiration and awe. “I... I’ve heard so much about her. Unfortunately, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her.”

  Lexie quirked her eyebrow at her. “So she had nothing to do with you being here?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “And that’s the truth because you’d never lie to me?”

  Octavia gave a stiff nod. “The Fox-Hursts are bound—”

  “Okay. I believe you.” Besides, she could always check with Morgana. “So how exactly does this work?”

  “Whenever you need something, I’ll be here.” Octavia stood to attention. “You only need to call my name.”

  Okay, she could work with that. “At ease, intern.”

  “I should have some information about the missing necklace by morning. If there is anything else...”

  “Tell you what... We’ll give this a go, see how it all works out.”

  Interesting turn of events, Lexie thought as she turned in for the night, all thoughts of the specter and Miss Lucinda Cunningham dismissed until the next day.

  Chapter Six

  “Coffee and donuts.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lexie watched Jonathan’s surprised look at not finding her answering the door. For a minute, she wondered if he’d braced himself for the way she normally looked... Disheveled, at best.

  He gave Octavia a head to toe sweep. “Who are you?”

  “She’s my intern,” Lexie called out as she sipped her coffee.

  Jonathan strode in, his steps cautious... measured. “What’s going on here?”

  “I’m having breakfast,” she chirped.

  “I can see that.” He gazed at the full spread on the small alcove table. “Silver cutlery? Where did that come from?” He set a paper bag and a coffee on the table and drew out a chair.

  “I’ve no idea. I only know that I ask and I receive.”

  “I take it your ‘Intern’ provides?”

  “Yes, she’s wonderful and excels at efficiency. ”

  “When... How did this happen?”

  “Last night after you left.”

  Jonathan folded his arms across his chest. “Who sent her?”

  Lexie took a sip of her coffee to hide her smile. “Have you ever heard about the Mackenzie Coven interns?”

  “I’m not up with all the inner workings of the hen house. All I know is that there’s a pecking order line of fire and I should stay away from them. Hard to do now that I’m compelled to do your bidding.”

  “Yes, about that... Octavia here seems to have an entirely different attitude to yours. She’s more... amenable. What’s up with that, I wonder?”

  Jonathan glanced at Octavia. “Obviously, she’s happy with her role and I’m not.”

  “Do you think you could change your attitude to fit your role?”

  “Nope. I like my attitude.”

  “Okay. Worth a try. Just... don’t give her any ideas. I don’t want a mutiny on my hands.” She reached for the coffee he’d brought her. “Oh, and you might want to tell Octavia where you get the coffee from. Hers is good, but yours is better.”

  Jonathan made a move to get up. “I see my presence here has been made redundant—”

  Lexie laughed and gestured for him to sit back down again. “Would I do that to you?”

  “Worth a try,” he muttered under his breath. “So what’s on this morning’s agenda? Have the wenches appeared?”

  “They should be here soon. If not, I’ll get Octavia to chase them up.” Lexie leaned forward. “Did I mention how super efficient she is? Watch this.” Looking up, Lexie smiled. “Octavia, how do I look this morning?”

  Octavia’s face steeled.

  Lexie counted to three and then watched her expression crumble. Fighting a losing battle, her intern huffed out a breath.

  “You look like road kill.”

  “Thank you.” Lexie turned to Jonathan. “Isn’t it refreshing? She’s compelled to tell the truth.”

  Jonathan gave her a worried look. “And you’re okay with that?”

  Lexie grinned and nodded. “Shall I ask her what she thinks about you?”

  Octavia groaned under her breath.

  Jonathan put a hand up. “Don’t worry, Octavia. Lexie has a tendency to wind people up. She’ll do anything for a laugh, even if it’s at her expense. By the way, where do you think Lexie stands with getting an upper hand over her cousin, Mirabelle?”

  Octavia tugged at her sleeve. “Statistically, she doesn’t have a hope in hell.”

  Lexie looked up in time to catch Octavia’s apologetic smile. “Octavia, could you work on finding a loophole, please?”

  “I’ll get onto it straightaway.”

  Lexie gave Jonathan a satisfied smile. “I think she’ll do very nicely.”

  Jonathan grumbled under his breath. “This is Morgana’s doing.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She excels at delegating.”

  Lexie frowned. “Strange. Growing up, I never noticed that about her, but now that you mention it, there were always people coming and going. I was never alone... Hey. She shunted me off. Got other people to take care of me.”

  “And you only now realize it?”

  “I guess complaining about it now won’t do me any good. Changing the subject at a rate of knots, Octavia says I’m ‘Intuitive’ and I’m trying to figure out how I can use that to my advantage and,” she lifted a finger, “Why it didn’t work last night. My intuition should have kicked in. But I missed all the signs.”

  “I think Octavia might have been pulling your monkey tail. All women are intuitive.”

  “Aha, yes... but, my intuitive skills are heightened by the fact I am—” she bl
ew out a breath and slumped back on her chair. “Do you think she was trying to get on my right side?”

  “Do you have one of those?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to shower and change. I don’t want her mightiness, the High Chair of the British Isles, to arrive and find me still wearing my pajamas.”

  Lexie strode into her sitting room and found Octavia standing with her hands cusped and her back ramrod straight as she conversed with an orb. Mirabelle’s orb.

  “I see you’ve met my personal assistant.”

  “Yes, a commendable addition,” Mirabelle said in her usual haughty tone. “I wish I had found her first.”

  Luna appeared from out of nowhere and sprinted toward her.

  Who’s she?

  Where have you been?

  Who’s she?

  If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been having clandestine meetings with Jack.

  Who’s she?

  Lexie made a mental note to tell Octavia to organize a supervised play date with Jack. As far as she knew, Luna hadn’t seen the cat they’d met on their recent trip since they arrived back. She didn’t want her wandering around the city by herself and perhaps meeting the wrong type of cat...

  “Are we all here?” Mirabelle asked.

  “We should do a roll call... for the minutes,” Octavia suggested. “In coming High Chair of the Ame—”

  “Yeah, here... Present.”

  “Mirabelle Louisa Mackenzie, High Chair of the British Isles and all Circumferential Domains Pertaining to the Mackenzie Coven.”

  “Present.”

  “Catherine.”

  “Here.” Catherine pirouetted around the room.

  Lexie frowned. “What about her title?”

  “Catherine prefers to leave it out,” Mirabelle remarked.

  “I wouldn’t mind hearing it... at least once so I know...”

  Octavia took that as a prompt, “Catherine Marianna Mackenzie, High Chair of Oceania, including the South Seas and all other Circumferential Domains Pertaining to the Mackenzie Coven. By personal choice, she prefers to be referred to as the Witch of Oz although this remains unrecognized as it has yet to be approved by the Council of High Chairs.”

  “Still here,” Catherine said.

  Mirabelle cleared her throat and called the meeting to order. “After last night’s unfortunate mishap—”

  Lexie’s hand shot up. “Can we deal with the other matter first, please?”

  “Which matter are you referring to?”

  “You know, the one about you providing something in writing?”

  A scroll appeared in Lexie’s hand.

  “After you sign it, you may file that, for your records.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jonathan cleared his throat.

  “Hang on. I should read that first,” Lexie said, more as an effort to delay Mirabelle’s imminent reassertion of her power over her than anything else.

  “If you must.”

  “Octavia. Would you please do the honors?”

  Her personal assistant dutifully sat down and subjected the document to a thorough scrutiny. She made several notes along the way and, after another read through it, handed the scroll for Lexie to peruse, saying as she pointed to a paragraph, “I suggest a clarification would be to your best advantage on this matter.”

  “Thank you.” As Lexie read it, Mirabelle’s orb hovered over her shoulder. “Oh, yes. This definitely needs clarification. The aforementioned signatory shall at no point hold the Council of High Chairs responsible for any loss of possessions in the line of duty.” She looked up at Mirabelle’s orb. “Why are Jonathan and Luna listed as possessions?”

  Jonathan’s chair scraped back. “Hey, I take exception to that.”

  Ditto.

  “We’ll definitely need to amend that. Also, if I do incur losses or damages to my... material possessions, I will expect to be duly compensated.”

  Octavia leaned in and whispered.

  “Yes, in a manner befitting my station... current and imminent. Meaning, as the incoming High Chair and—”

  “Yes, yes. I get the meaning,” Mirabelle huffed out.

  The scroll disappeared in a puff. Moments later, it reappeared.

  Octavia checked the amendments and giving a nod of approval, held out a quill pen for her to use.

  Luna scurried forward and, taking a leap, landed on Lexie’s lap.

  If something happens to me, how much will you get?

  It doesn’t work that way.

  How does it work? Do they give you a replacement? You know I can’t be replaced. I’m unique.

  Nothing is going to happen to you.

  In the spirit of what’s good for the goose... Will you put that in writing?

  Did I ever have a choice in picking my own feline companion? No, I didn’t. You got to choose me and now you want conditions?

  I’m hungry. Feed me.

  With a flourishing gesture, Lexie signed the document. “Right. All done.”

  “Excellent. So now we’ll proceed—”

  “Hang on.”

  Little puffs of smoke emanated from Mirabelle’s orb. “What now?”

  “That was too easy.” Lexie turned to Octavia. “Is there a cooling off period mentioned?”

  Octavia nodded. “The standard applies.”

  “Okay. Rev your engines. We’re good to go. Proceed.”

  As usual, Mirabelle took it from the top and cleared her throat. “The Garland Theater will be opening its doors to the public right on schedule. Needless to say, they must address the current concerns. It seems some thespians are not happy with the current conditions and have asked for assurances that all will be well. Your presence will provide this.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “The Governing Committee recognized the connection you made with the specter and, despite some objections, they realize they can only move forward if you intervene on their behalf.”

  “Objections?”

  “Yes. It appears you are guilty of committing the unpardonable... grievous faux pas of mentioning Macbeth.”

  “You just said it and I don’t hear anyone objecting.”

  “We’re not inside a theater. Everyone knows you’re not supposed to mention the name inside a theater. Or, heaven forbid, quote any of the lines outside of rehearsals or the actual performance. You did both.”

  “Fine. Whatever. So what exactly am I supposed to do?”

  “The cooling off period only applies to the contract you signed, and not specifically to this task you’ve agreed to carry out,” Octavia explained as they strode up the steps toward The Garland Theater entrance. “That means you are bound to do your duty. There’s no way out of this.”

  “Maybe you missed something. Check again,” Lexie grumbled under her breath.

  Fool me once, fool me twice...

  This would make it the third time.

  “I assure you my methods are methodical and without fault.”

  “What’s with the name Octavia? It’s a bit of a mouthful?”

  “They warned me about your lack of focus,” Octavia murmured. Tipping her chin up, she gave Lexie a brief smile. “I’m the eighth attempt at an heir.”

  “There are seven girls before you?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s a bit of a burden to carry. It’s almost a daily reminder. Ugh! I feel for you.”

  “I’ve grown accustomed to it.”

  “Have you considered changing your name?”

  “I believe that’s the welcoming committee.”

  Lexie didn’t even notice Octavia’s change of subject. Her attention, instead, shifted to Edward Le Mans and Constance Hargreaves. They both looked down at her with distinct disapproval.

  Constance sighed, exchanged a word with Edward, and then stormed inside the theater.

  Lexie pasted on a friendly smile only to change her mind as, under the circumstances, it might be perceived to be entirely inappropr
iate to look so cheerful.

  Think glum thoughts, Lexie.

  “Do I offer my condolences?” she asked Octavia.

  “No. He wasn’t related to the victim, but you might want to tread with care. Remember, you mentioned Macbeth inside the theater. It will be some time before anyone can forgive or forget the indiscretion. I wouldn’t be surprised if they all hold you responsible for what happened.”

  “You don’t hold back your punches, do you?”

  “Would you like me to? I can always adjust my sincerity gauge and tone it down.”

  “No, I wouldn’t want you to change for me. I like you just as you are.”

  Octavia slanted her gaze toward her. “I’ve only ever heard that said in a movie and... truth be told, which I’m compelled to do, I would much rather have heard the words from a man.”

  “Cue apology?”

  Edward Le Mans cleared his throat. “Miss Alexandra Mackenzie. We are very pleased to welcome you back to The Garland Theater.”

  He didn’t sound it.

  “Miss Lucinda Cunningham is waiting for you inside.”

  Huh?

  Chapter Seven

  Belatedly, Lexie wished she hadn’t told Jonathan she didn’t need him to come along.

  “Are you okay with this?” she asked Octavia.

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” She tugged the sleeve of her jacket and lifted her chin as if duty bound to do her best, no matter what.

  Octavia had dressed in what was no doubt her professional outfit; a neat, tailored suit in dark grey matched with black pumps. “So... You’re used to seeing specters?”

  “No. This will be my first one. I’m keen to observe and take notes. However...”

  “Yes?”

  “Since you expressed an interest in my opinion, I thought you should know your choice of clothing requires some rethinking. Denim jeans and t-shirts are all well and good for day-to-day casual activities. However, this is a work related matter. You are on official coven business. It would have been more appropriate to dress accordingly. Just saying...”

  “Right. Okay. Yes. Duly noted. But there’s nothing we can do about that now.” Or so she thought.