Arcane Magic (Stella Mayweather Series)

by Camilla Chafer

  "Guess that's where I'll start," I muttered, stooping to pick up the scattered sheets before piling them on my desk. The box was simply tossed into the corner for repair, or throwaway later. It was hardly a new occurrence. Three rolls of duct tape had already been squandered in quick succession on the ancient card boxes. Frankly, it was a miracle they made it through their magical journey still intact at all. Despite the amazing powers and talents bestowed on the witches of the past, unfortunately, archival filing wasn't included.

  Powering up my computer, I logged onto the online database where all the documents were being uploaded. Luckily, I didn't have to type out every piece of paper word-for-word. All I had to do was outline the material before assigning it to a category, after which a team of admins (I previously assembled back in the city) performed the majority of hard, tedious work:. They scanned, typed and added the content online, making it available to all witches. That was a process I insisted upon after two months on, when I realised I was utterly overwhelmed.

  Étoile adamantly advocated that everyone have access to the materials that had been secreted away for countless years. While I agreed in principle, I still had some doubts. What if the material were highly sensitive? Or contained details of crimes, or magic, that could lead to the population's detriment? As such, anything I deemed worthy of a second look by Étoile was filed in its own sealed box and sent straight to her office. I transferred more than a dozen such boxes since the start of the program. Étoile was great in giving me the autonomy I required to just get on and work, but as head of the Council, and champion of this project, there couldn't be any room for error. After all, it wasn't like she had the support of every witch in the community. No, there were always dissenters. Compounding that, she also had to liaise with others of our magical world, which operated secretly, yet concurrently in conjunction with the human world. The more I thought about it, the more reasonable her request became. However, I was surprised she didn't bring up the Brotherhood, or elaborate in more detail.

  As far as the regular humans knew, magic was just something they read about in movies. Even after the Brotherhood made their big announcement about the existence of witches, they did little more than create a cult-like conspiracy for theorists to debate. While some of these theorists became quite vocal, not that the media ever took them particularly seriously, the Brotherhood essentially remained in hiding. I couldn't decide whether I was glad about that or not. It wasn't a case of no news was good news, but rather the endless waiting and expectation that something was imminent and meant I could never entirely relax. Would I ever be free of their persecution?

  Kicking back in my chair, I stared out the long windowpanes toward the woods that bordered my property. Last night it was quiet, but during the next full moon, I would be able to freely observe the wolves that used the woods for their own private recreation grounds. The naming ceremony ensured they'd all be out in full force. It was something I'd grown used to since Annalise and Gage first revealed their secret. Now, only Gage lived across the street; and very shortly, Annalise and Beau would return to their new home with their new baby girl, the latest member of the pack. Life was good and I must admit I was pleased for them.

  I could hardly wait to visit them, and personally deliver the pretty baby set I ordered online: but until that time, I had to concentrate on the task at hand: the haphazard pile of paper on my desk. Fortunately, this was a straightforward, though not particularly interesting set. Most of the sheets were handwritten with very pretty pen-and-ink drawings of various flowers and herbs with notes on spells; and it struck me as quite similar to a book Seren and David once gave me as a gift. If I weren't mistaken, this was the author's original notations. How they came to be in the archives, I wasn't sure, but I made a note to tell David of my find. I was fairly sure this would be of interest to many other spellcraft witches too. As it turned out, however, it wasn't my most interesting discovery of the day.

  ~

  Originally, Gage promised to restock my refrigerator and have it ready for my arrival; but since I returned two weeks early, he hadn't gotten around to doing it, leaving me with an empty pantry. Before it got too late, I drove to the grocery store, filling my basket with all the essentials and driving home. I was turning onto my driveway just as dusk began to fall.

  Bumping the car door shut with my hip, I made a weird sort of lunging move to shift my bag further up my arm so it nestled into the crook of my elbow, while simultaneously trying to balance two sacks of groceries. Really, what I should have done was make two trips to the car, but the sunlight was quickly diminishing. All I wanted to do was get inside, brew a cup of hot, sweet tea, and ruminate on the day, now that I'd had a chance to clear my mind.

  So, I played the balancing game as I walked quickly along the path, my thumb grappling with the remote car key. Not that locking my car mattered out here. With only two houses on a road, which led to nowhere important, barely anyone ventured this far out unless invited. I could leave the keys in the ignition, and it almost certainly wouldn't matter. However, growing up in London instilled some security measures that I undertook automatically. Not that I could afford a car back then, but still, old habits were hard to break. The most important security measures were the wards that guarded my house from any possible harmful intent directed towards me, not to mention truly unwelcome visitors. I could feel the wards vibrating in the air as the warning system embraced the porch.

  When my foot landed on the first step, I stopped dead. A large person was sprawled on the porch, his fingers just reaching the doorframe. Judging by his size – thickly set with broad shoulders, and tall – as well as his clothing, he was obviously a man. Dressed in jeans that had surely seen better days, a thick, corduroy coat, and mud-encrusted boots, he lay on his belly, his face concealed by shoulder-length hair. He was very still. My immediate alarm was replaced by a whiff of otherness, something that wasn't immediately obvious. Werewolf.

  "What the hell?" I muttered. Setting my groceries on the step, I dipped my hand into my bag and pulled out my phone, hitting “speed dial” as I brought it to my ear.

  "Hey." Gage's reply was warm and smooth.

  "Hey, yourself. What have I said about your wolves taking naps on my porch?" I asked, staring at the prone man. Edging backwards, and away from him, I glanced across the street. Gage's truck was parked in the driveway and there was a light on in his living room, indicating he was home.

  "I don't recall that," replied Gage. "I do remember an angry note, however, about peeing on your porch."

  I remembered that too. Boy, was I cross! Especially, since it wasn't like they weren't as house-trained as their human selves. Every werewolf claimed he could keep a strong grip on that courtesy, even when down on all fours. Not only that, but the wide expanse of woodland surrounding my house would do just fine as the furry beasts' community toilet. Fortunately, that incident was never repeated, and my porch was scrubbed clean in its entirety the very next day. Two pretty chrysanthemum bushes were also planted, flanking the porch base, which I assumed was their peace offering and apology.

  "Well, now, I have one of your pack taking a snooze on my porch." Since Gage knew of my predicament and was close by, I didn't hesitate to retrace my steps, stretching one foot out to nudge the sleeping wolf as I expressed my displeasure to Gage.

  "My pack are all here at the Loup tonight," Gage told me, adding, "area meeting."

  I frowned. "I thought you were home. Your light is on and the truck is parked there."

  "Took my motorcycle. Forgot about the lights."

  I nudged the man again with my toe and he didn't move. "Another meeting?" I asked, waiting for the man to stir. He didn't and I felt my heart rate increasing. Something was wrong with the man. What if he were unconscious and needed medical help?

  "Just one pleasure of rising in the ranks." Some shouting erupted and I heard the rustle of fabric in my ear as Gage probably pressed the phone to his shirt while shouting something in response. It
didn't sound polite. "Like I said, everyone's here. At least, I think they all are. Maybe someone ducked out. You recognise your visitor?"

  "Nope. Thought you might know. Looks tall, white, with dark red hair and a beard."

  "Don't recall any bearded redheads." Gage paused. "You sure it’s a wolf?"

  "Yep, I can sense it, but there's something..." I trailed off as I nudged the man with my foot one more time. Of course, that was what was "off" about him. The scent of otherness was mixed with something most unpleasant, something decaying.

  The man at my feet wasn't taking an impromptu nap.

  He was dead.

  "Stella?"

  "He's dead," I blurted. "Oh, crap, Gage, this werewolf is dead. On my porch!" Taking a step backwards, I leaned against the railings and jumped, spinning to scan my surroundings. I'd been so focused on my annoyance at a minor infiltration of my property that I barely thought to look around until now. With the phone still pressed to my ear, I cautiously began to survey my immediate surroundings. The wards weren't giving off any alarms, so that was good, plus, I was protected wherever I stood. Another step off the porch, however, and the wards guarding the house would diminish. I turned warily, half-expecting something or someone to jump out at me right before I faced it or them, but there was nothing. The woods remained still in the half light and the air seemed very silent.

  "Dead?" repeated Gage, like he didn't quite believe what I just said.

  "Definitely dead," I confirmed, not that I planned on getting close enough to feel for a pulse. I could tell from where I was standing. Just in case I wasn't being clear enough, I added slowly in a panicked voice, "There's a dead werewolf on my porch."

  "Go inside," Gage's voice became thick and urgent, accented by the heavy thud of his footsteps as he yelled out orders to his pack. "Stella, go inside right now and lock your door. I'll be there in a minute or two. Stay on the line until I get there."

  "Okay." My voice sounded like a squeak as I bounded up the steps, leaping over the dead man's legs, and pressing myself against the front door with my keys rattling in my hand. Without bothering to insert them into the lock, I simply ran my hand over the mechanism, feeling it spring open as the magic recognised me. Pushing inside, I flipped on the lights and simultaneously rammed the door shut, relocking it as fast as I could. "Gage, are you there? I'm inside," I said into the phone.

  "No, ma'am," came a different voice. "This is Jay. Gage will be with you soon. He just took off. Said I had to stay talking to you until he gets there."

  "Okay," I mumbled as I peeked through the window in my living room. The dead man still lay there alone. Well, at least, he had my groceries for company, I realised with a sigh. Not that it mattered. Corpses usually put me off my food… a little. Scant seconds went by when a large wolf burst from the undergrowth and appeared at the foot of the steps, slowly ascending as its nostrils flared. The wards allowed his entrance. Gage. Several more wolves appeared behind him. Some looked familiar, but it was hard to make out their markings in the advancing darkness. I watched as Gage approached the body, circling it, and sniffing. Part of me was ready to leap from my skin if the body twitched, but this was no horror movie; this was real. Just in case... I looked behind me, my hand poised on the door handle, half expecting to find a psycho in the house and ready to race outside if there were. There was no one, but that didn't stop my heart thumping… not one bit.

  I told Jay that Gage had arrived and he acknowledged that, remaining on the line, although silently. As I continued to watch Gage pace and nudge, traversing the length of the porch, his ears and eyes alert, I began to wonder about the dead wolf's identity. If everyone had been at the meeting, this werewolf wasn't a member of the local pack. If he weren't from Gage's pack, I wondered, what would bring him to my house? Assuming he was alive when he stepped onto my porch, was it just a coincidence that he died here? Was he looking for a witch? Or me? Of course, I couldn't discount his two-sided nature. He could have been looking for Gage. It wouldn't be the first time someone unfamiliar with Shadow Wood Lane mixed up our two houses.

  I refocused on Gage just as he crouched down, the wave of magic sliding over him while his fur receded and his bones reshaped. Rather than watching his transition, I turned away and went to the bathroom, retrieving a towel just as a knock sounded on the door. I opened it, keeping my eyes firmly above the waist as I handed him the towel, which he gratefully took with a nod, simply wrapping it around himself. I handed the phone to him and he spoke to Jay for a moment before hanging up and giving it back to me.

  "Where did the rest of them go?" I asked, noticing the absence of the other wolves.

  "They're looking for a scent," he told me matter-of-factly. "He's definitely not one of ours and he's gotta be from somewhere."

  "You don't know him at all? I thought maybe he got our houses mixed up. Maybe he was on his way to see you when whatever happened to him... happened," I finished weakly. I peeked past Gage's broad shoulders to check that, yes, the dead man was still there. "It seems to be the most likely explanation."

  "I thought the same thing at first."

  I frowned, trying not to notice his chest. Had Gage gotten broader? More muscular? "And now you don't?" I asked, blinking. Now was not the time to admire Gage's considerably toned physique.

  "Nope. He was here for you," Gage said with absolute certainty. Cold fear washed through me and I gulped, stumbling backwards, away from the door, and also the corpse. Looking stricken, Gage reached for me, wrapping one warm hand around my elbow as he stared down at me with concerned eyes, despite an oddly wolfish appearance. Their irises always seemed to settle last, and his were still elongated and flecked with amber gold. "I didn't mean like that. At least, I don't think he was here to harm you. He's not armed in any way. Come see."

  "No, thanks." I stayed behind Gage as he moved, trying to ignore any humour that a man wearing only a bath towel was defending me. "My wards let him onto the porch, so he couldn't have meant me any harm," I decided, relieved to relocate the rational part of my mind again. "But how do you know he was here for me?"

  "There's something you should see." Gage released me as he turned away, and I couldn't help noting the fine way his muscles moved as he returned to the dead body. He stooped to the ground, the towel sliding back to reveal one powerfully muscular thigh, twice the width of mine; yet his grace as he moved was unsurpassed. He manipulated the dead man's outstretched hand for a moment, then stood, returning with a slip of paper, which he passed to me.

  "What's this?"

  "There's a scrap of something with your name on it. See here?" Gage tapped the inked letters. "Says ‘Stella May.’ I'll bet the rest of your name got torn off."

  "It feels like an envelope. It's too thick to be paper." I turned it over, but there was nothing, not even ink smudges, never mind a fragment of letter-weight paper concealed within it. "I wonder what he was delivering."

  "More important is this question," said Gage, as we looked down at the corpse, "who killed him before he could deliver it?"

  Chapter Four

  "No one knows who he is? Really?" I flopped onto the couch in Gage's living room, opposite a now fully-clothed Gage, and threw my hands upwards. "How can he be totally unknown?"

  "Believe me, I had every single pack member troop past his body, taking a good look at his face, and sniffing his scent," said Gage, setting two cups of coffee on the low table between us. "And not a single one could recall ever meeting this guy."

  I couldn't argue with that. I watched from the relative safety of my living room as every available pack member did exactly as Gage said. I knew many of them well enough to wave to — and had done so — although some were friendlier than others. The only member who did not stop by was Annalise, but she had an excuse. After just arriving home from the hospital with the baby, Beau took the time to come inside and show me photo after photo of chubby, dimpled cheeks and tiny fingers and toes. The few pack members out of town were sent the dead wolf’s ph
oto by text message, but reply after reply could not identify him.

  "Either no one knows him at all, or someone is lying," deduced Gage, relaxing while resting his arms across the back of the couch. His shirt buttons strained at the effort. "What?" he said, catching me looking at him.

  "You've gotten bigger," I replied.

  "Been working out," said Gage. With a grin, he raised his forearms and flexed his biceps.

  "So I see," I said, trying not to let my temporary awe slip into my tone. It wouldn't do to let Gage grow big-headed, or think anything untoward of my observance.

  "Let me get you a tissue for that drool," he joked, tossing a box of tissues towards me. I caught them and made them disappear. Seconds later, they reappeared a couple of inches above his head and dropped. I laughed as he jumped. The box tumbled onto his shoulder and he grabbed it, tossing it onto the table with a shake of his head. "Okay, witch. Back to the subject. I prefer to think that none of my pack is a liar, but I can't count it out. I'll do some asking around. We'll find out who this guy is."

  "And in the meantime?"

  "In the meanwhile, you don't worry one bit. So, he was delivering a message to you. Could be anything. Could be nothing to do with supernatural business. Could be totally innocent."

  "Could be I won the lottery and he was here to personally inform me?" I asked, a touch sarcastically.

  Gage grinned. "Could be. What would you do if you won?"

  "Fix my house." I had a never-ending list of things to fix around the house and Gage often kindly helped with many such tasks. Truth was, I was pretty tired of doing repairs. For once, I wanted to return from my vacation without finding a leaking window, a busted pipe, or some other calamity.

  "I'd go to Hawaii and surf. I've always wanted to try."

  "Hawaii sounds better than house repairs."

  "Anything sounds better than house repairs." Gage picked up his mug and sipped. "Listen, I really don't want you to worry about this, okay?"