Murder Of A Werewolf (A Brimstone Witch Mystery Book 1)

by Fernsby, April

  Oliver was standing in front of the door, his back arched and his tail standing up as straight as a poker. He hissed at me again.

  I took a step back. Oliver had never hissed at me before. He was a gentle, laid back cat. What was going on?

  Gran said sharply, “Oliver! Where are your manners? There’s no need to talk to Cassia like that.”

  Talk? Oliver was hissing, not talking. I looked closer at Oliver. He was definitely giving me the evil eye.

  Gran carried on talking, “Oliver, step away from the door. If Cassia wants to leave, then let her.” She took a sudden, sharp intake of breath.

  I spun around and saw Gran leaning heavily on the chair. Her face was creased in pain.

  I ran over to her. “Gran! Tell me what’s wrong. Do you need the doctor? Let me call Dr Gilbert.”

  Gran flapped her free hand at me. “It’s nothing. It must have been something I ate. I knew I shouldn’t have bought that salmon which had been reduced at the supermarket. You should never buy fish that’s been reduced.” She took her hand off the chair and straightened up. “Cassia, please come into the cellar with me. Just for a few minutes. I want to show you something. It’s important. Please?”

  Her eyes crinkled up, and she gave me a dimply-cheeked smile. How could I say no to her?

  “Okay. Just for a few minutes.”

  “Super. This way,” she said as if I didn’t know perfectly well where the dreaded cellar door was.

  Gran went down into the cellar first. I’d love to say that it was a dank, dimly-lit room with mould decorating the walls and that there was a disgusting damp smell which seeped into your clothes.

  It wasn’t like that at all. I wished it was because that would explain my dread of the place. There was no damp smell, no filthy walls, not even a solitary cobweb in evidence. There weren’t even any rats in here.

  Gran’s cellar was lovely. As soon as you stepped into it a smell of fresh air and flowers would float up your nostrils and make its way to your lungs and fill them with joy. Your steps would become lighter as you walked down the pale stone steps and into the spacious, suspiciously light room. There was only one light bulb and no windows in this room, but that bulb was like a mini sun and it filled the cellar with a wonderful light. It was like stepping into a summer’s day. Like I said, there were no windows, so where did the smell of fresh air and flowers come from?

  It was almost like the cellar was enchanted.

  Pah! Ridiculous!

  I stomped down the cellar steps and walked over to where Gran was standing.

  Gran beamed at me and waved her hand around the room. “I know you don’t like this room, but I love it.” She nodded her head in the direction of a tall bookcase. “I’ve got some new books in there if you want to have a look? I’ve got some great detective ones. I nearly didn’t guess who the killer was in some of them!”

  I scowled at the bookcase. Who keeps books in a cellar? Any normal cellar would cause the books to rot away with its foul, damp air. But not this cellar. The books were kept as fresh and crisp as the day they’d been printed.

  Gran laughed. “Your face will stay that way if you keep scowling. I really don’t understand why you hate this room. You used to love coming down here when you were little. I’ve still got all your toys and books over there.”

  I looked around the room. There really was nothing to hate. The walls were painted in a soft, yellow colour and the ceiling was covered in an enchanting, light blue one. There were a couple of sofas in the corners of the room which were perfect for curling up in with a good book. There was a play area where I’d spent many happy hours with myself and my imagination.

  It wasn’t the room’s fault that I hated it. In fact, I didn’t hate the room. I hated the memories associated with it.

  But Gran didn’t know about those memories. And I wasn’t going to reveal them. Speaking about them would give them life. I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep them hidden away at the very back of my mind. Maybe one day I’d forget about them altogether.

  Gran was studying me. “I can see you’ve got something on your mind. You can tell me about it whenever you’re ready.” She began to walk to the other side of the room.

  My heart missed a beat, and my voice caught in my throat as I said, “Gran, where are you going?”

  Without looking over her shoulder, Gran replied, “You know where I’m going. You’ve been here before.”

  “No. Gran, no. Don’t do it. I don’t want to.”

  Gran stopped, turned around and said, “You have to. This is more important than you know. Come closer. Please.”

  “No.” I clenched my hands at my side. My feet betrayed me. The sneaky things moved forward, and I couldn’t stop them.

  I came to a stop behind Gran and gave her a desperate look. “Please don’t open that door.”

  “I have to,” Gran said softly. “You’ve been through this door before. It’s time you went through it again.” She turned away from me and reached out for the brass handle of the wooden door in front of her.

  My legs felt weak, and I closed my eyes. Damn! There was that fluttering butterfly in my stomach again. And it had brought a couple of friends with it who were having a merry dance in there. This wasn’t the time to feel excited! This was the time to feel dread. To turn on my heel and run away. To jump in my car and race home. To leap into my bed, throw the covers over myself and pretend this door didn’t exist.

  The door let out a familiar creak, and my eyes shot open.

  Gran pulled the door open towards us.

  I rocked back on my feet as a wonderfully welcome aroma came towards me.

  It was the smell of a spring morning when the first warm breeze hit you, and you knew winter had gone. It was also the crisp scent of winter when you knew snow was on its way. It was the exciting smell of summer as you opened your window on the first day of your school holidays. And it was the smoky fragrance of autumn as you noticed the first leaf turning colour.

  Those dancing butterflies in my stomach went crazy and started flittering about all over the place. My heartbeat sped up and adrenaline coursed through me. I felt alive and ready for an adventure. I hadn’t felt like this for years and years.

  Gran took my hand, and we stepped through the door.

  Once through the door, we were in another world. We walked along the cobbled road in front of us and looked at the town ahead.

  Gran squeezed my hand and said, “Cassia, welcome back to Brimstone.”

  Chapter 4

  Brimstone.

  Yes. Of course.

  I inhaled the refreshing air. I’d been here before. A long, long time ago. I looked at the town beyond the short, cobbled road. The brightly coloured buildings were set around a large square of grass. A white, wooden gazebo stood proudly in the middle of the grass and flowers adorned its rails and steps. Picnic tables and benches were dotted invitingly around the gazebo. I felt a pull towards them as if they were beckoning me to take a break from life. People wandered happily around the square, laughing and chatting to one another. Their clothes were so bright! All the colours of the rainbow and more.

  When I say people, they weren’t human beings. But I wasn’t going to think about that at this moment. My mind was probably playing tricks on me, so I turned my attention away from the cloaked figure in the distance whose sharp fangs caught the sunlight. A vampire? No. Don’t be silly. If he were a vampire, why would he be out in the bright sunshine? Of course, he wasn’t a vampire. He was probably some poor soul who liked dressing up as one.

  Gran tugged on my hand. “I don’t think you’re quite ready to meet the residents of Brimstone yet. Cassia, I know you haven’t been here since you were a little girl, and your sensible grown-up mind is most likely telling you this is an illusion, but try to keep an open mind.” She broke into a grin, and her eyes glittered with mischief. “Tell yourself you’re on a drug-induced trip. Convince yourself I slipped something herby into your tea and we’re on an imagi
nary adventure together.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you to slip something into my tea,” I mumbled. I pressed my lips together and looked at the beautiful tree to my left. The sun shone through the pale green and yellow leaves making them almost translucent. “Gran, I do remember being here. I remember this tree. And all the others like it dotted around the town. Why do I remember them? Why are they so special?”

  Gran’s grin broadened and she looked like the Cheshire Cat. “I’m so glad you remember the trees. Watch this.”

  She released my hand and then held both of her hands palms up towards the tree. She gave a soft whistle. There was a rustling sound and two leaves floated away from the tree. The leaves opened up, fluttered towards Gran and landed softly on her palms.

  I smiled. “They’re butterflies. They’re so beautiful.”

  Gran held her left palm towards me. “This is the female one. Her wings are a pale green with a single red spot.” She moved her right palm. “This one is the male. You can see that his wings are yellow. Like butter. It’s thought that this is where the word ‘butterfly’ comes from. From this little chap.”

  The little butterfly opened and closed his wings as if to say, ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  I gazed at the charming creatures and one by one, memories started to drop like soft snowflakes into my mind. I pointed to them and said, “They’re Brimstone butterflies. This town is named after them. Am I right?”

  Gran nodded. “Can you recall why the town is named after them?”

  Another soft memory made itself known.

  “Yes!” I declared. “The coven was looking for a new place to live, so they sent out many creatures to find a suitable area. The Brimstone butterflies found this area. It was perfect for the coven.” My sudden joy abruptly vanished. “Wait. Did I just say coven? As in witches?”

  “You did. And you’re right. The Brimstone butterflies found this amazing place for the witches and as a thank you, the witches planted enchanted trees that would be perfect for the butterflies to live on. Such is the enchantment that anyone who attempts to hurt a Brimstone butterfly will immediately burst into flames.” She smiled down at the male butterfly.

  I snorted with disbelief. “Burst into flames? You’re making that up.”

  Gran looked my way. “It’s either burst into flames or turn into a pillar of dust. Either way, it’s the end for whoever hurts the butterfly.” She winked at me. “That’s what we tell everyone.”

  Gran lowered her head and spoke quietly to the butterfly in her right hand. The butterfly flapped its wings twice and then flew away. The female butterfly returned to her position on the tree. The other leaves, which I now knew were green and yellow butterflies, shimmered as she returned. It was like they were welcoming her back.

  I sighed. It must be wonderful to have hundreds of creatures welcoming you back home. All I had was a death-obsessed skinny cat.

  “Gran, what did you say to that butterfly?”

  “I gave him a message, of course,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Right. Of course. Yep. I do that all the time.” I took a step away from Gran.

  Gran shook her head in exasperation. “Cassia, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what the butterflies do? They don’t just hang around looking pretty on the trees. For goodness’ sake! You must remember. After what you and Luca did.”

  Luca?

  My heart stopped for a second.

  Luca. I knew that name.

  Gran continued, “The butterflies take messages. Rather like texting but much more pleasing to the eye. You summon a butterfly, tell it your message and who the message is going to, and then off it flies. It can either whisper your message to the recipient. Or it can sing it or shout it depending on what you asked it to do. Some of the shyer butterflies let the words appear on their wings. It’s an excellent system and 100% efficient. Cassia, you must remember.”

  I looked at the tree. The butterflies fluttered slightly, and I felt like they were looking at me. A slow smile spread across my face. Yes. I did remember. How could I forget the messages I used to send using this amazing system. And that one time when Luca and I …

  Heat flooded my cheeks, and I quickly looked away from the butterflies.

  “Yes. You’ve remembered the butterflies alright,” Gran said. “It looks like you’ve also remembered what you and Luca did.”

  A shadow suddenly fell over me, and a male voice boomed out, “Did someone mention my name?” This was followed by a warm chuckle which sent shivers down my spine.

  I looked up into the face of the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And I’d watched a lot of TV. He had short, brown hair and the most incredible blue eyes I’d ever gazed at. They were a deep blue, like the ocean or a ripe blueberry. Or those chewy sweets that I had when I was little. I’d always loved those blue ones. And my pendant! I had a pendant with a crystal the exact same colour. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from this perfect vision in front of me. Could he be any more handsome?

  Then he smiled. Oh. He had dimples. Cute little dimples that I wanted to touch. My hand raised of its own accord.

  The man abruptly pulled me into his embrace, lifted me off the ground and swung me around. I suddenly became a wanton woman and rested my head against his chest. He smelled warm and familiar. He smelled of home. I didn’t know who he was, but I was enjoying this contact. My arms tightened around his waist, and I didn’t care that I was acting like a hussy.

  Gran coughed politely.

  The man put me down, moved me to arm’s-length and looked me up and down. “Cassia Winter, I haven’t seen you since you were seven years old. You’re all grown up. Wow. You’re beautiful. I didn’t think it was possible for you to get even more beautiful.” He reached out and gently touched the end of my nose. “You’ve still got that freckle there. I’m glad you’ve still got it.”

  I wrinkled my nose. That annoying freckle! I covered it up with concealer every morning. The make-up must have worn off. It’s hard to look like a tough, business woman when you’ve got a big, fat freckle on the end of your nose which makes you look like a twelve-year-old girl.

  The man tilted his head to one side. His smile faltered. “Cassia? You don’t remember me, do you?”

  It was my turn to look him up and down. I took my time over it and admired his lean physique. I didn’t know what had come over me. I never eyed men up like this.

  My attention landed on his face. I smiled at him. “Luca. You’re Luca. We used to play together.”

  Luca clapped his hands together and let out a loud laugh. “Yes! We did! We were best friends. Do you remember when we …?” He waggled his eyebrows and looked towards the butterfly tree.

  My cheeks warmed up again, and my hand covered my mouth. My eyes were wide as I tried to stifle my laugh.

  Gran tapped her foot. “What you two did was not funny. You caused chaos that day. And it was weeks before those poor butterflies recovered.” She tutted several times, but I saw the twinkle in her eyes.

  Luca lifted his chin. “We were performing a scientific experiment, weren’t we, Cassia?”

  My hand dropped, and I lifted my chin too. “Yes, we were. It was an extremely important experiment. We wanted to know how many messages the butterflies could deliver in one day.”

  “And how many messages they could remember at one time,” Luca added. “Also, we needed to know in how many different forms they could deliver those messages. I was in charge of the whispering and talking as I gave the messages.”

  “And I was in charge of the singing, shouting and screaming,” I finished. “It took us ages to give messages to each butterfly and to make sure everyone in the town got at least a dozen messages.”

  Luca gave me a wicked smile. “But it was worth it. Do you remember, Cassia, how the town looked when the butterflies all set off at once? It was magical.”

  I looked towards the town. “It was like the town was made up of flying leaves. It was awesome.”

  �
�It wasn’t awesome at all,” Gran said loudly. “It was chaos. I got two hundred messages that day, and all from different butterflies. By the end of the day, those poor creatures didn’t know if they were coming or going. And it didn’t help when people chased after them and asked them to repeat the first message they’d received.”

  Luca pressed his lips tightly together, but the laughter in his eyes gave him away.

  I couldn’t help myself. I burst into laughter. That wonderful, uncontrollable laughter that makes your cheeks hurt and your stomach ache.

  Luca joined in with my laughter, and there was a mixture of guffaws and snorts as we let the laughter out. I wasn’t sure if the snorts came from me or Luca. I’ll blame him. I’m too much of a lady to snort so loudly.

  It was a good five minutes before we got ourselves under control.

  When we did, Luca wiped his tears of joy away and said to me, “I’ve waited years for you to return. I knew you would one day. Well, you had to, didn’t you? Now that your gran is – ”

  Gran swiftly interrupted him, “Luca, it’s been lovely to see you, but we have to get going.” She took a step forward.

  Confusion crossed Luca’s face. “Cassia, you have come back, haven’t you? You have come back to help your gran? Haven’t you?”

  Gran’s tone was stern as she said, “Luca, a decision hasn’t been made yet. We’re going to see Blythe. We must get going. I can’t keep her waiting.”

  Luca hadn’t finished. “Cassia, promise me that you’ll help. This town needs you. And your gran needs you.”

  Gran pulled on my arm and dragged me away. I had no idea she was so strong. Her grip stayed vice-like on my arm as she steered me away from Luca.

  I glanced over my shoulder as I was frog-marched away. I gave Luca a helpless look along with a small smile.

  He didn’t return my smile. He folded his arms and watched us walk away.

  “That was rude,” I said to Gran.

  “We haven’t got time to chat. Blythe is waiting for us. You do remember Blythe, don’t you?”