by Emery Belle
I frowned at him. Nice guy? Fletcher? I’d heard his name quite a bit in the past few days, and no one else had described him as anything other than ornery, reclusive, and slightly off his rocker. I had mixed feelings about him myself, based on our brief encounter, and I wouldn’t call our conversation pleasant.
I’d have an opportunity to reflect more on that later, but in the meantime, I had one more question for Radu before I could tie up my loose ends with him and be on my way. “Do you remember what you were doing on the morning of Hattie’s disappearance?” I asked.
“That depends,” he said, looking at me thoughtfully. “What morning was that?” When I told him, he nodded. “Ah, yes, the same thing I do every week at that time: visit the morgue for my turn at the blood bank, and then teach my advanced surfing class.”
“How does the blood bank work?” I asked, genuinely curious as I remembered my first introduction to one of the more unpleasant aspects of the island—the stack of coffins from the human world that had accompanied me on the ferry.
“Every vampire on the island has a standing appointment at the blood bank to receive our food supply for the week—some of the blood comes from the deceased humans brought over on the ferry, some comes from living people on the island. There’s a financial incentive to donate,” he added, noticing my look of surprise. “Personally, I prefer witch blood. I’ve always had a sweet tooth.”
A drop of saliva glistened at the tip of his fang, and he swiped it away with his tongue, then eyed me up and down. “Have you ever considered donating? I bet there’d be a line down the sidewalk for your blood.” The lustful gleam in his eye was my cue to leave, so I laughed off the question awkwardly, then stood up and brushed the sand from my pants.
“Thanks for your time,” I said. “You’ve been very helpful, and if I decide I’m brave enough to try that surfing lesson, I’ll be in touch.”
“Far out.” He winked at me, then picked up his board and bounded back down to the water. I watched as he paddled out far enough that he was soon a mere speck bobbing up and down on the horizon, then I turned to leave, kicking my way through the soft sand until I reached the boardwalk again. I wasn’t sure yet if Radu was involved in Hattie’s disappearance, but his description of the blood bank had given me an idea that might take me one step closer to finding her kidnapper… and, hopefully, Hattie herself.
Chapter 13
The morning of the coven’s dance dawned bright and beautiful, and I was up with the sunrise, examining my black and purple eye in the mirror and trying not to cry. “Wren!” Garnet gasped when she rolled out of bed and caught sight of my face. “What happened to you?”
“A bad kick from a rogue centaur foal, it seems,” Monty said gleefully, swinging around on his chain. “Our dearest Wren is going to look quite the fright for Sebastiany-poo tonight. Tell me”—his eyes shone wickedly—“do you think he’ll suddenly come down with a bad case of the weasel pox the moment he lays eyes on you?”
My face crumpled, and Garnet jumped up from her bed and gave Monty’s chain such a hard rattle that by the time he stopped spinning, his entire head had turned a nasty shade of green. “It’s not that bad,” she said, grabbing hold of my chin and turning my face this way and that to get a better look. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll heal by tonight.”
I gave her an incredulous look, and she shrugged. “Sorry. Just trying to stay positive.” She frowned down at my eye, then suddenly, her face lit up.
“Don’t look so excited,” I grumbled, quickly becoming bad-tempered. “You don’t need me to have a black eye to be the prettiest girl at the dance.” I grabbed my makeup bag and began dabbing concealer around my eye, sucking in a sharp breath as my fingers hit the sensitive skin. Meanwhile, Garnet was crouched on the ground, rummaging around in a bin beneath her bed that was filled with all sorts of bottles and vials.
“Here it is,” she said in a muffled voice, emerging a few moments later as I was adding the last of the concealer to my face. Groaning, I examined myself in the mirror. I looked, if anything, worse. She padded over to me, then shoved a small tub of some kind of white goop into my hands. “Put this on your eye,” she instructed, opening the tub and dipping her fingers inside. She started smearing some of the goop around my eye, but I ducked and swatted her hand away.
“What is it?” I asked. Garnet was about the last person I trusted with anything magic-related, though I would rather smooch Monty on his fat gray lips than tell her that.
“It’s a healing salve,” Garnet said, trying to rub it over my skin again. “My cousin Persimmon makes it—she owns a beauty apothecary on Star Island, and this is one of her best sellers.”
“Oh! Okay, then.” I took the tub from her hands and poked my finger inside. “As long as you didn’t m—” I choked, catching myself at the last second as Garnet watched me curiously. “As long as you didn’t need it yourself,” I amended, shooting Monty a death stare when he let out a snort of laughter.
“Don’t worry, I can send for more any time,” Garnet said with a wave of her hand. Then she checked the clock on her nightstand and gasped. “If we don’t hurry, we’re going to be late for familiar training! I don’t want Calvin to think I’m bailing on him for tonight.” As I finished slathering the healing salve on my bruise, she got dressed in a formfitting shirt and leather pants that were completely impractical for class, then examined herself in the mirror at all angles with a critical eye.
A squawk at the window caught my attention, and I turned to find Midnight, Garnet’s nightswallow, hovering outside in midair, his wings beating gently up and down. “Look!” she said, tearing her eyes away from her reflection and hurrying to open the window. “He knew I wanted him to come—we’ve been practicing,” she finished proudly.
Uh-oh. I looked at Pierre, who was half-stuck beneath my bed and snoring loudly, and my stomach sank. With everything that had been going on with my investigation into Hattie’s disappearance, I hadn’t had a chance to practice strengthening our connection at all—hopefully that wouldn’t be too obvious at class today.
After hauling Pierre out from under the bed—it took almost a dozen meatballs to convince him to wake up—Garnet and I made the short walk to the academy, where we found Hunter and Calvin waiting for us on the side lawn. Though it seemed that a bewildered Calvin, who knew nothing about Hunter and Garnet’s convoluted relationship, was trying to engage Hunter in conversation, he was having none of it, instead turning his back on the instructor and playing fetch with Dolly, his doppelganger, with a tiny twig.
Calvin grinned at Garnet when we arrived, and she practically bounded up to him, resting her hand on his arm and whispering something in his ear before they both laughed. Hunter shot them a dark look, then seemed to notice me for the first time. “What happened to your eye?” he said, wincing as he took in my appearance.
Great. It seemed like the salve was working all the wonders Garnet had promised.
“Baby centaur injury,” I grunted, but before I could elaborate, Garnet took her place beside me and Calvin began the class. And what a class it was—Dolly and Midnight spent the next hour performing incredible feats, culminating in Midnight soaring through the air with Garnet on his back and landing on the precise tree branch Garnet was envisioning in her mind. Pierre, on the other hand, spent most of his time burying an invisible bone in a mound of dirt.
“Maybe he just has a good imagination,” Garnet said as Pierre scooped up the nonexistent bone and pranced over to a better corner of the clearing.
Calvin wasn’t quite as generous. “You haven’t been practicing,” he said, marking a big red X next to my name on his grade sheet. I gulped and tried to mentally summon Pierre to my side; he responded by plopping onto the grass and promptly falling asleep. “If I don’t see any improvement next week, I’m afraid I’m going to have to report you to Lady Winthrop.” He cringed. “Sorry, that’s the part of this gig that I really hate.”
“I haven’t really had a chance to practi
ce, you see…” I was about to launch into an explanation of my investigation into Hattie’s disappearance, then stopped myself. That was top-secret information, and I had no idea if Calvin could be trusted. He didn’t seem to notice the awkward moment, however, because he was too busy discussing the details of the dance with Garnet.
“See you tonight,” she called to him over her shoulder, starry-eyed, as we set off across the grass a few minutes later. Then she sighed happily. “I can hardly wait.”
“I can,” I said, feeling my eye gingerly. The day wasn’t off to a banner start, and I kept hearing Monty’s voice in the back of my head warning me that Sebastian would take one look at the state of my face and head for the hills. I glanced at my watch—five hours to go until he would arrive to pick me up. “How fast is this stuff supposed to work?” I asked Garnet.
She frowned at my eye. “It should have been better by now. Here. Let me take a look.” Before I could protest, she took a tissue from her purse and began rubbing vigorously at one corner of the bruise while I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out in pain. After a few moments, she stopped and stepped back. “Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh?” I repeated, my voice rising with barely controlled hysteria. “What do you mean, uh-oh.” I grabbed her purse, practically ripping it off her shoulder as I searched through it for a compact mirror. Finally locating one, I snapped it open and held it up to my eye, then gasped. Not only was the bruise still there, but it had darkened to black and was expanding before my eyes, cascading down my cheek like a waterfall. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, willing myself not to throttle Garnet right then and there, and when I opened them again, she was fumbling around in her purse for her training wand.
“Here,” she said, her own voice edged with panic, “I can fix this. My cousin Raul—”
“No.” I held up my hand. “I think your cousins have done enough damage for one day, Garnet. Now come on.” I turned on my heel and began marching down the street. There would be plenty of time to fret over my appearance later—no doubt I would be the resident circus freak at tonight’s dance—but for now, I had a job to do, and a maimed eye wasn’t going to stop me.
“Where are we going?” Garnet asked, hurrying after me. Pierre was lumbering along behind her, his ears flapping in the wind, and I slowed down enough for him to catch up.
“To visit Pearl Dixon,” I said, bending down to give my familiar a quick scratch behind the ears. A cloud of dog dust rose up around him, and I sneezed violently. “I need someone to serve as a distraction so I can have a look around her shop and see if I can find any more clues to Hattie’s disappearance.” I hadn’t decided yet whether I should confront Pearl with the missing earring I’d found on Hattie’s front porch, but I’d stowed it in my pocket just in case the opportunity presented itself.
“Oh.” Garnet stopped short and began chewing her lip worriedly. She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder and shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Well, you know I’d love to help out, Wren, but I really need to be getting ready for the dance. I’ve got an appointment at the salon, the manicurist, the…” She trailed off when I shot her a death stare and jabbed my finger at my face.
“You owe me.” I continued staring her down, and after a few moments, she nodded mutely, though I could feel her glowering at my back all the way to Pearl Dixon’s wand repair shop.
Pearl raised her eyebrows in surprise when I pushed aside the gauzy curtain and stepped into the shop. “You’re back!” she said, recoiling slightly when she saw my face, though she had enough tact not to mention it. She was burning tea leaves again, and the shop was filled with an acrid purple haze. I immediately began hacking, and she stood up from her desk in concern, her tie-dyed skirt billowing behind her as she walked over and began thumping me vigorously on the back. “Did you remember your wand this time?” she asked when I’d finally regained my breath.
I glanced toward Garnet, widening my eyes meaningfully; thankfully, she caught the hint. “Actually, I’m the one who needs help,” she said, brandishing her training wand. Pink light burst from it, shattering the light fixture above our heads, and Pearl ducked for cover as glass rained down on her desk. Knowing that the mishap was entirely unintentional, and just a product of Garnet’s magical ineptitude, I smothered a smile behind my hands.
“I should say so.” Pearl picked a few shards of glass from her mane of frizzy hair and flicked them into the trash can at her feet. “Come on, dear,” she said, leading Garnet away by the elbow. “We’d better take a look at that wand outside before you accidentally burn down my entire shop.” She practically pushed her through the curtain, letting it fall back into place behind her.
Bingo. I could barely believe my luck.
“Stand guard,” I said to Pierre. His tongue lolled out of his mouth. I sighed. “There’s a sausage in it for you.” At that, he stood to attention, his tail pointing toward the sky, his ears cocked toward the entrance. After much panting and snorting, he settled himself in front of the curtain, long strings of drool hanging from his mouth in anticipation of the promised treat.
Before getting to work, I quickly peeked through the curtain at Garnet, who was aiming her wand at the nearest tree in a panic, trying to put out the flames bursting from its trunk. Laughing to myself, I started with Pearl’s desk, yanking open all three drawers simultaneously so I could rummage through them faster. The first drawer yielded nothing but a few half-empty jars of wand polish and a magnifying glass. The second was completely empty, and the third…
“Ouch!” I yanked my hand back and stared down at the blood blooming at the tip of my finger. Had some of the glass from the light fixture Garnet had shattered somehow dropped into the drawer? I bent down, sucking my smarting finger, and squinted into the drawer. Sure enough, glass was the culprit… but it wasn’t from the light fixture. The framed photo of Arthur that Pearl had shown me the first time I’d visited her shop was inside, looking like it had been bashed against the edge of the desk; the glass was spiderwebbed in all directions, and Arthur’s face was now torn and dirty. Apparently since our last meeting she’d been rethinking her feelings toward him.
I set the picture frame gingerly on top of the desk and continued rummaging through the drawer but found nothing of interest. Then I glanced around the shop, taking note of the mess around me—towering stacks of paperwork, wand boxes piled in every corner, wand-repair gadgets lining the walls. If Pearl was trying to hide anything, the shop was the perfect spot.
“Good boy,” I said encouragingly to Pierre, who was still planted in front of the curtain, his head cocked at attention. I could see that Garnet and Pearl were still occupied outside, so I began fumbling through a promising-looking stack of papers behind Pearl’s desk, keeping one eye on the window at all times. If Arthur was to be believed, Pearl was unstable… not to mention a fully trained witch. If she walked back into the shop and found me snooping through her private things, there was nothing stopping her from cursing me all the way to the Frozen Island.
I flipped quickly through the papers, past old receipts and work orders, accounting statements and tax information, brochures for wand insurance and materials suppliers, then set them down with a sigh. Nothing. Then I spotted a backpack on the floor behind the desk, and a quick poke around at its contents, which included a broomstick flying license, told me that it belonged to Pearl. I began sifting through it, moving aside a sack of gold coins, a few more bags of tea leaves, and a wand polishing kit, until my fingers hit on something at the very bottom of the bag.
I pulled it out, taking one glance at it and letting out a quiet yelp of triumph—for in my hand was another photo of Arthur, though this one was torn in two and featured a backdrop of the Magic Island boardwalk at sunset. Arthur had his arm around an unknown person, and though only a few wisps of gray hair were visible, I knew exactly who it was… because I’d already seen the other half of the photo in Hattie’s nightstand. Pearl must not have been able to bear the thought of them to
gether, even in something as trivial as a photograph. The only question was, when did she sneak into Hattie’s home and steal it?
“What are you doing?”
I whipped my head up to find Pearl standing in front of me, her mouth hanging open in shock as she stared from me to the torn photograph and back again. Behind her stood Garnet, her eyes wide with panic, one hand gripped around Pearl’s arm as if she’d been trying to hold her back. In front of the curtain I spotted Pierre, fast asleep. He could forget about that sausage.
Trying to hide the photo or pretend I didn’t know what it was seemed futile, so I decided to throw caution to the wind. “I know where you got this,” I said, studying her face for a reaction while keeping one eye glued to her wand, which she held at her side in a rigid hand. “Did you break into Hattie’s house to get it before or after you kidnapped her?” I gave her a tight smile. “It must have been after, since I also found your missing earring on her porch.” I whipped the rainbow hoop out of my pocket and dangled it in the air between us.
Garnet let out a soft gasp, and even Pierre managed to open one eye and look around with mild interest. Pearl’s hand tightened around her wand. “Get out.” Though her voice was steel, I could tell it was threatening to break. I just needed to push a little bit further…
“It must have been very painful for you, seeing them together like that.”
Pearl’s face paled, and she took a threatening step forward. Pierre, now fully alert, growled low in his throat. I traced my finger along the jagged edge of the photo where Hattie’s smiling face should have been and took a deep breath. It was now or never.