Any Witch Way You Can

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Any Witch Way You Can Page 4

by Rawlings, Rachel


  Jared nodded. “No charms. I win, you stay four more weeks. You win, I destroy the charm and you can walk out of here. If you still want to.”

  His confidence, annoying as it was, wasn’t misplaced. He knew I wasn’t walking out of there with or without the charm in effect. Pru was the reason I agreed to his “help” in the first place. She was still out there somewhere. Until I found her, I was stuck with him.

  But Jared wasn’t the only confident one.

  “Okay, it’s a bet.” I held out my hand.

  Jared clasped his hand around mine and sealed the deal with an old-fashioned and magic-free handshake. “I don’t suppose you still have a key to the Harris estate?”

  “If I did, Barbara would have changed the locks. Why?” My stomach churned in anticipation of his answer.

  “Give Babs a call. Tell her we’ll be stopping by.” He checked his watch. “And to put some coffee on.”

  “First of all, ‘Babs’ doesn’t put coffee on. Rosaria does.” My mouth watered with the memory of her café au lait. Nothing compared. “And second, fifteen minutes ago we weren’t asking Barbara for help. Now we are?”

  “We need to get into Pru’s room.” Jared grabbed a back pack and started filling it with various charms- some more innocuous than others- and the charred book on dreamwalkers.

  I gestured at him. “All this power and we can’t even bypass the front door.” I dreaded the call. For numerous reasons but mainly because I had zero updates on Prudence.

  “Bemoaning the limitations of our magical options doesn’t change anything. It’s witchcraft, not Star Fleet. We can’t beam ourselves up. Make the call, Ellie.” He tapped his wrist where a watch face would rest if he actually wore one.

  Tick-tock.

  The clock was ticking. The first forty-eight hours were crucial to any investigation. I wasn’t a detective and that critical mark passed long before I knew Prudence was missing. My playbook consisted of knowledge gained from an earlier obsession with cold case documentaries and relying on Jared for magical support.

  In other words, things weren’t looking good.

  I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket and dialed the Harris’s number from memory.

  “You found her. Harold, it’s Ellie.” Sounds of Barbara’s attempt to wake her husband came over the line. “She found Prudence.”

  Barbara’s ability to manage happiness and disappointment at the same time never ceased to amaze me.

  I thought I’d gotten used to the way she said my name with disdain, even in casual conversation, but it still stung. The phantom pains of old wounds were replaced with new and deeper ones when I corrected her.

  “Barbara.” I waited a breath for her to finish proclaiming the good news to interrupt her again. “Barbara. I haven’t found her. It’s like she vanished between Gaea’s Garden and the gate to your estate.”

  “Dare I even ask the reason for this phone call? At... what time is it?” She paused, most likely to check the clock on her nightstand. “Three in the morning. Let me guess. You need more money. I should have known better. Your abilities haven’t done you any good before now. I was a fool to expect—.”

  “Shut. Up.” The phone creaked under the pressure of my grip as I struggled to reign in my temper. Old arguments threatened to raise their ugly heads but I refused to take the bait. “I need to see Pru’s room.”

  “Here? Is that really necessary?” Barbara sounded stricken, as if the idea of a witch in her house made her physically ill.

  Wait until she realized it wasn’t one witch but two. I admit, I perked up bit over her discomfort. “Does she have a room somewhere else? Yes, there.” I checked my attitude and tried again. “I won’t stay long. Half an hour, just long enough to look for some sort of clue.”

  “The police have searched her room and didn’t....” The fight left her with one heavy exhale. “Pull around to the back of the house and use the service entrance.”

  She hung up before I could say thank you, which was a testament to how much Pru’s disappearance had taken out of her. Normally she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to hear me choke on my gratitude.

  “That went well.” I almost pulled a muscle with my eye roll.

  Jared ruffled through a few jars, grabbed a pack of assorted candles, what looked like incense and a sachet of herbs, and shoved all the items in his backpack before tossing me mine. I caught it with my chest and a resounding oompf.

  A buzzer sounded and the monitor mounted to the wall flickered to life, showing a petite woman wrapped in a fur stole, sandwiched between two men in tailored suits. The woman motioned to the doorbell and the man on her right obliged. The buzzer sounded again.

  “I’ll drive.” Jared fished a set of keys out of the front pocket of his jeans.

  “Another unhappy customer?”

  “We should go.” Jared grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the back door. “Like now.”

  “Jared.” My attention was fixed on the monitor even as he tugged on my arm. “How did she do that?”

  With a touch of her finger the woman dropped all three locks on the front door of Cauldron Crafts. The tempered glass door swung open. She waited for her guards to enter before crossing the threshold. Her gaze flicked to the camera. The deviant look in her eyes combined with the wicked grin said all I needed to know about the mystery woman in Jared’s store. She was dangerous with a capital D. Small electrical charges crackled between her palms just before the monitor blinked out.

  Magic.

  “I’ll explain it later. Ellie, come on.” Jared swiped at the air with his left hand. The emergency exit obeyed his command and swung open without tripping the alarm.

  “She’s a witch?”

  “Most of my customers are. Will you come on?” Jared shoved me through the door, yanking it shut as soon as my feet hit the parking lot. He pulled a Sharpie from his back pocket and scribbled half a dozen symbols on the metal door.

  “Will that stop them?” I hitched my backpack higher on my shoulders, clutching the straps as if they’d provide some layer of added security.

  “It’ll buy us a few minutes.” Jared unhooked a full face helmet from beneath the back seat of a blue and white race bike and tossed it at me. “That’s all we need.”

  “You want me to get on the back of that?” My heart flip-flopped before seizing in fear. “I’ve never ridden before.”

  “You’re welcome to stay here and talk things out with Helene.” Jared pulled his helmet on and turned the engine. The bike rumbled to life.

  What would Helene and I have to talk about? Her beef was with Jared. Not me. Against my better judgment, I hopped on the back of his bike and cinched my arms around his waist like a python coiling around its prey.

  For once, visiting the Harris estate seemed like the lesser of two evils.

  Still, a sense of dread weighed on my mind. I felt like I made a deal with the devil. Black magic, shady business practices, and powerful, pissed off customers? I prayed to the Goddess I was right about Prudence.

  I wasn’t sure I’d survive four weeks with Jared Adams if I was wrong.

  Chapter Six

  We crossed the Gaston City line in record time. Rundown buildings and green grass blurred together as Jared drove us into Brooke Heights at speeds which should have broken the sound barrier. Fortunately for him, we left my stomach somewhere near the carousel as we blazed through Crescent Park, so he was spared me projectile vomiting when we stopped at the gate to the Harris estate.

  I unlocked my frozen fingers from around Jared’s waist, flipped up the visor on my helmet, and pressed the button on the intercom.

  “Ellie James and Jared Adams to see Mrs. Barbara Harris. Please.” I said, between chattering teeth.

  I hated the formality. The illusion of perfection within the walls of the Harris household had suffocated me when I was growing up.

  Goddess please let me get in, get the journals, and get out unscathed. Oh, and be right about Pru. I add
ed the fourth request at the last second, almost forgetting that key point as I sent up my prayer to the Goddess. Please let me be right about Prudence.

  The gate swung open without a response from anyone inside the house. Jared drove up the long drive at a respectable speed and pulled around back as instructed. I couldn’t get off the bike fast enough. I staggered to the servant’s entrance with all the grace and elegance of a newborn calf and gripped one of the porch columns until I regained my stability, only then ringing the bell.

  “Why couldn’t we take my truck?” I asked, still leaning on the column for support. “It has heat.” Most of the time.

  Jared responded with halfhearted laughter. “If we took your truck we’d be talking to Helene and her goons right now instead of looking for your sister.”

  “Yeah, umm.... About Helene—.”

  A member of the Harris’s staff, one I didn’t recognize, opened the door wearing crisp white pajamas and a matching robe with the Harris crest emblazoned on the chest pocket. He motioned for us to come inside before I could ask Jared if there would be more run ins and narrow escapes in the immediate future. “Miss James. This way, please.”

  We followed the butler inside, through the staff quarters, and up a set of stairs that led to the kitchen. From there we were escorted to the French doors which led out to the veranda. The guest house, where Prudence stayed, was down a set of concrete steps, past the Olympic sized swimming pool and roughly an eighth of a mile walk across sprawling grass kept green year long by Hector the gardener.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he used magic.

  “You grew up here?” Jared looked over his shoulder at the massive stone house looming over us on the hill then back to me, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “It was my childhood and I hardly believe it.” I offered a meek smile and tried to not to think about my years of being the Harris’s black sheep – even before they discovered what I was.

  Still, it hadn’t been all bad.

  Hector had let me drive the tractor and help tend the Victorian herb garden. My limited knowledge of herbal medicine came from lessons over a bag of fertilizer and a pair of pruning shears. If it wasn’t for Hector, the gris-gris bags I sold out of the back of my truck in Crescent Park would be worthless. Rosaria slipped me empanadas from her private stash after school and, of course, there was Prudence. From playmate to confidant, she’d always had my back. We were inseparable.

  Until Barbara tossed me out.

  A golf cart waited for us at the bottom of the steps with the key still in the ignition. Bumper stickers from local bands plastered the back of the motorized cart and there was a miniature vanity plate that said ‘Pru’ attached to the bumper.

  “So this is how the other half lives?” Jared laughed. “I often wondered if it was true.”

  “Please, like you’re suffering in poverty.” I rolled my eyes. “You have a business, albeit it a shady one. Still, it’s a regular income. You have a roof over your head, food whenever you want it, a car, a motorcycle... hot water.”

  Things I was forced to give up.

  I left the golf cart and Jared where they were and headed for the guest house. Dew coating the grass soaked through the canvas of my All-Stars and into my socks before dampening the hem of my jeans. The sun wouldn’t crest the horizon for a few more hours. The freezing bike ride combined with the breeze whipping across the open yard and wet shoes set a chill deep in my bones. Warmth—and with any luck clues to Pru’s whereabouts—awaited inside the guest house. I flipped up the collar of my jacket, shoved my hands in my pockets, and quickened my pace.

  Jared sprinted to catch up, his boots tromping Hector’s perfectly trimmed grass. “Sorry, I can be an ass some times.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Not in a particularly forgiving mood, I shrugged off his apology. The wet grass wasn’t the only thing dampening my mood. Being home again had me on edge. We walked the rest of the way in silence.

  As expected, the door to the guest house was unlocked. The gate and security systems in place on the property gave a false sense of security. Pru’s disappearance was proof positive.

  Strings of twinkle lights illuminated the ceiling, resembling a clear summer sky full of stars. Billowy tulle draped around the headboard, piles of throw pillows and an oversized duvet completing the fairy princess décor. Everything was soft, feminine, pink, and totally Prudence.

  “She’s in college, right?” Jared picked up a throw pillow from the floor and tossed it into the pile on the bed.

  “When she was in first grade, Pru’s teacher told her she could be what ever she wanted to be. She took that message to heart.” I stepped around him to reach the nightstand where I assumed Pru kept her dream diaries.

  “And she wanted to be a princess?” Jared asked, apparently still dumfounded by my sister’s taste in decorating.

  “We’re witches. You’re convinced she’s some sort of dream weaver. At this point, anything is possible. So, why not a fairy princess?” I opened the drawer and pulled out two leather bound journals.

  “When you put it that way....” Jared took one of the journals and plopped down on the bed, ignoring my protest over disturbing Pru’s room. He opened the first volume of my sister’s private thoughts, flipping pages like a speed reader. “None of these entries are about her. That’s a bit strange, don’t you think?”

  I ignored his pointed question and flipped through the journal, stopping on random pages until I read enough to form my own conclusion. Unfortunately, it was the same as Jared’s. “Neither are these.”

  Dreamwalker.

  The word hung unspoken between us.

  “Ellie—.”

  “Don’t.” I snatched the diary from his hands before he had a chance to say anything else.

  Oh Goddess, four weeks with Mr. Know It All, black magic user. If our first night together is any indication, I’ll be lucky to survive the month.

  Still, so far he was keeping his side of the bargain and I’d pay any price for Pru’s safe return – even my clean aura.

  With the journals clutched to my chest, I swallowed my pride and admitted defeat. “So, she’s a dreamwalker. Now what?”

  “Now we find out where she walked off to. What’s the date on the last entry in each journal?” Jared shrugged off his pack and started rooting through its contents. He set a sachet and a pack of matches beside him on the bed.

  “This one ends in June of last year. And this one....” I switched journals and flipped to the end. “December.”

  “Unless she stopped writing, there’s a more recent volume hidden here somewhere.” Jared struck the match and lit the sachet in a whoof of gray smoke.

  “What are you doing? You’re going to burn the guest house down and guess who’ll take the blame for that?” I rushed to the kitchenette and filled a glass of water.

  “I’m saving us time with a simple hide and seek spell.” Jared mumbled something else in that almost Latin language.

  “In case you didn’t notice, I can’t afford rent, never mind construction costs for a cottage.” My hand was poised over the burning herbs, ready to douse the small flames when someone called my name.

  “Brujo.” Jared’s cold greeting caught me off guard.

  “His name is Hector, not Brujo.” Without thinking, I rushed to give him a hug, splashing water on his shirt. “Oh, sorry.” I brushed the few droplets that hadn’t soaked in away and apologized again.

  “Rosaria heard you were coming.” Hector eyed the contained fire with suspicion as he handed me a thermos and brown paper bag with small grease stains on the side, its contents still warm.

  “Is this what I think it is?” I opened the bag and inhaled the sweet scent of fried deliciousness.

  “You’re going to bring her home. I can feel it.” Hector’s smile reached his eyes but his attention was on Jared. “My grandfather was the brujo in our village when I was a boy. I like to think it’s in my blood but I never had the gift. Rosaria and I,
we knew what Ellie was the moment she walked through that door.” Hector pointed toward the main house. “Just like I know what you are.”

  Jared outstretched his arms. “I’ve never pretended to be anything more or less.”

  Hector rested hands calloused from long years laboring on the Harris property on my shoulders. “Ellie, there is darkness around him. I can feel it.”

  “He’s helping me find Pru.” I steeled my spine against the judgment in Hector’s eyes.

  “Got it.” Jared leapt from the bed and dragged the ottoman from in front of the overstuffed arm chair to the side of the bed. He pushed up on one of the coffered ceiling tiles and reached inside the ceiling to retrieve another journal.

  “Mrs. Harris wanted to know how long you planned on staying. Mr. Harris, he has a meeting with the chief of police for a progress report about Prudence. She said it would be better if you weren’t here when the chief arrives.” Hector’s brows knitted together as a scowl formed on his face.

  “Don’t get upset on my account. I’m used to it.” I shrugged off the Harris’s dismissal. “I’m used to it. Wouldn’t want the police to find out they’ve consulted a witch.”

  “You can tell Babs we’re done here.” Jared snuffed out the smoldering herbs with his hands, shoving the remnants of his magic use and the journals in his backpack.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Hector wrapped his arm around me and steered me toward the door. “I passed on what I could, you know?”

  I wrapped my arm around Hector’s middle in a half hug, squeezing as tight as I could. “You and Rosaria were the best part of growing up here.”

  Hector squeezed me back as he ushered me out the door. “We would have taken you—.”

  “It’s okay.” I would have gone with them. Rosaria and Hector were good people but their lives were tied to the Harris’s. They lived and worked on the estate. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  I knew he would smell the lie but I needed to hear it as much as he did.

 

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