Death's Hexed Hobnobs

by Ruby Loren

  “Trust your instincts more and you would know. Tor Bennett, at your service. You called by my house earlier today. I believe you’re interested in learning about magic. After watching you today, I believe I’m interested in teaching you.”

  January felt a huge mix of emotions at his words. She’d thought that there’d been someone watching her. Now it would appear that the whole thing had been a test. She wondered how Mr Bennett’s past clients had fared. They’d probably made a better job of the fence. She couldn’t imagine Luke hauling himself over the top, like a sack of potatoes.

  “I have lots of questions I’d love to ask you. Could we meet up to discuss everything?” January asked, hoping she sounded serious and worthy of his time. There was something about his voice which made her feel like he was several leagues above her, as far as intellectual capacity went.

  “I was about to suggest the same. Perhaps we can meet in The Star Inn. Let’s say, tomorrow night at seven?”

  January was unsurprised that he’d picked such a neutral, non-supernatural pub. Something told her that this witch didn’t mix with the local covens. “That sounds fine.”

  “I look forward to meeting you, January,” the man on the other end of the line said before hanging up.

  “Who was that?” Ryan asked, coming back through the trees, his face shining with sweat. “I tried to follow the trail, but it disappeared,” he explained.

  “It was the man who taught Luke magic. Wait… the trail disappeared?” She caught onto Ryan’s last words.

  “It just stopped and the scent vanished. Are you meeting up with this guy? You’re not going alone, are you?”

  “Sounds like it was our bounty hunter. It might be a witch trick? I’ll have to ask Mr Bennett tomorrow.”

  January looked off in the direction Ryan had come from, wondering about the identity of their stalker.

  When she looked back at Ryan he had his arms folded and was silently waiting for an answer. “Yes, I’m going on my own. Trust me. He had all the opportunity he needed to do me harm while I was stuck in his crazy garden.” Ryan looked puzzled and January shook her head. “What I’m saying is; I don’t think you need to worry. I’ve done enough to intrigue him and clearly he likes money. He’s probably one of the safest people to meet alone with in this town. His motivations are transparent.”

  “Just remember that this man had a big hand in crafting Luke Bingley into the monster he was.”

  “I know, but honestly, I think Luke had already made himself into that long before he decided to get involved with magic. But just for you… I promise not to turn evil.” She smiled and reached out to run a hand down his chest, taking comfort from the warmth of him. The sky was dark now and soon the moon would rise high in the sky.

  “Time to get ready,” January said, stripping off her clothes and stowing them in a tree for later. Ryan looked like he had plenty more to say on the subject of magic, but January shifted into her unicorn shape and knew that he felt the full moon’s call to change his own shape.

  Magic and morals could wait until the morning.

  11

  There was a box on the kitchen counter the next morning when January walked in to turn on the coffee machine. It may well have been there when she and Ryan had come home in the early hours of the morning, but after the adrenaline rush of the full moon meet, they’d skipped the kitchen and headed straight to the bedroom.

  January looked back over her shoulder and listened, just picking up Ryan’s slow and deep breathing. He was still asleep. She turned back to the present, wrapped in dark red paper and tied with a black satin bow. She was half expecting there to be a vampire fang charm attached, just to make sure she was 100% certain who it was from. There was a tag attached, but all that was written on it was ‘G’. At least that cleared up any lingering doubts. She tore off the paper.

  “A silicon cake mould! That’s… actually really thoughtful,” she said aloud, wondering at the strange present. January had wanted one of these cake moulds for ages, but had no idea how the vampire could have known that. Perhaps he’d just got lucky.

  There was a note inside the cake mould.

  I thought this might be useful for the baking competition. Love, Gregory x

  January gulped as she read the ‘L’ word. He didn’t mean it, did he? Was this his way of telling her he loved her? She shook her head. It was just something written on a piece of paper, not a declaration. It was the same as saying ‘from Gregory’.

  She only just had time to snatch up the wrapping paper and box and throw them in the bin before Ryan walked into the kitchen. He didn’t even notice the brand new silicone cake mould sat on the counter, but then, January hadn’t expected him to.

  “I’m going to open the bar this evening, just for a little trial. If it goes well, we’ll do a big opening night. Your band could come and play!”

  January tried to look pleased, secretly wishing she could avoid dragging her band into another place where they could potentially uncover the world of the supernatural. They’d definitely think it was strange that everyone in the bar knew her and were so respectful, she might have been the queen.

  “Did you change the name of the bar in the end?” She asked, wondering what had been decided.

  “Of course… the sooner we forget about Luke Bingley, the better,” Ryan said.

  January took a large gulp of her coffee, trying not to think about the old pack leader. She’d let him walk away with his life and was still wondering if one day she’d come to regret it. Not even Ryan knew that Luke Bingley hadn’t died the night she’d challenged him. She hadn’t lied about Luke’s ending, everyone had just made assumptions.

  “It’s going to be called The Wild Woods.” He raised his eyebrows and looked up at January, waiting for her verdict.

  “That’s actually pretty good!” She said and Ryan looked offended. “Sorry, you know I was dreading anything unicorn related. It’s great.”

  Ryan grinned. “Glad you like it, because the sign arrives today. It would have been a pain to change it.”

  “Hey, my opinion doesn’t matter. It’s your bar!”

  Ryan gave her a funny look. “It’s not just mine. I’m the manager now, but really, it’s a communally rented place, and you are the head of the community. You have the power to do what you want with it. You could fire me right now and no one would be able to overrule you.”

  January was again uncomfortably reminded that there was a lot more to running a pack than just turning up every full moon. She had to get more involved and be a better leader! It was just hard to find the time when she was either at work or doing whatever she could to fend off potential bounty hunter attacks and track down the Old Ones. So far, she wasn’t making great progress with any of it. Perhaps she should try and take some time off from work and really get involved with the bar.

  “I hope it goes well tonight. I could come by after my meeting with Tor Bennett?”

  Ryan nodded and January was grateful when he decided not to comment about the wisdom of meeting the witch.

  “See you later,” he said and leant in, lingering when his lips connected with hers.

  January tasted the coffee and wished more than anything that they could wrap around each other and go back to bed. That would be a far better day than the one she had planned.

  Ryan gave her a rueful smile and grabbed his stack of papers from the sitting room table before sliding down the hallway. January listened for the slam of the front door and then stared at the cake mould again. It’s just a thoughtful gift. It doesn’t change a thing, she decided, and then shoved it in a drawer. It was only then that she considered the fact Gregory had broken into her house to leave her the present. She frowned. She thought he’d been cured of that bad habit. It might be time to buy some more of that anti-vampire dust. With Ryan in the house, she’d hoped Gregory would be smart enough to stay away.

  Of course, this could be just another subtle attempt on his part to drive a wedge between she
and Ryan. Perhaps he’d been hoping that Ryan would be the one to find the gift. January would not have put it past the vampire.

  “Oh, Simon, why is everything always so complicated? I’d kill for a normal life. One where I run my own bakery and come home to a man who asks me how my day was, and thinks that selling out of chocolate cupcakes is really big news.”

  The small black cat meowed and pawed at the food cupboard.

  “Want to trade places?” January asked him.

  The cat stopped pawing and stared at her meaningfully. Weird, she thought, and then saw the time on the kitchen clock.

  “Oh no, I’m late!” She was making the special and she hadn’t a clue what it was going to be yet. Hopefully, she’d figure it out on the drive there.

  She gathered her stuff together, adding her new cake mould to her bag (no point in letting it gather dust!) and then ran down the hallway, pausing only to pull on her boots. The instant she put her right foot in the shoe, she knew something was in there again. Grunting in annoyance at further time lost, she delved inside and pulled out a piece of paper.

  Don’t meet the wicked witch.

  January sighed and crumpled up the paper. Perhaps Ryan had wanted to have the final word on the matter after all. However, she still wasn’t certain it was Ryan. This note was in the same handwriting as the one which had warned her about the cupcakes. Ryan hadn’t mentioned writing the warning when she’d told him what had happened at the Cake Off. Maybe it’s Gregory, she thought, knowing he was the only other person with access to the house.

  But having just seen an example, his handwriting wasn’t like this either.

  “I know your advice was good last time, mysterious note writer, but I have to do this. I have to find out what I am and if I can use magic,” she said aloud and then rushed out of the door. Hopefully the mysterious note writer would understand.

  January arrived ten minutes before she was due to meet with Tor Bennett. While she was ignoring the advice written on the note she’d found in her shoe, she wasn’t ignoring the fact that someone had managed to find out she was meeting the witch. If one person knew that, there was a chance that others knew it too. The note could even have been warning her about a trap. That was why she’d decided to go earlier than scheduled to look around. Considering how notoriously late she had been recently, anyone that was watching her was bound to be surprised.

  Tor Bennett was evidently a very prompt person, or perhaps he too had chosen to scout the place first. When January walked into the pub, he was already sat at a table watching her. It was only when that strange magic sense of hers tingled that she turned and made eye contact. He looked like the sort of man who might have been a professor at a university. The lines on his face told of travel, and his thinning brownish grey hair had been kept at a medium length, so it curled a little around his face. He was also wearing a beaten old tweed blazer that added to the professor vibe.

  “I’m not what you were expecting,” he stated.

  January summoned up a smile, anxious she’d offended him already. “I’m afraid the only other student of yours I know of coloured my opinion a little,” she confessed, wanting to get this out in the open as soon as possible.

  The witch’s caterpillar eyebrows shot up and January was irrationally pleased that she’d managed to surprise him. “What student would that be?”

  “Luke Bingley… at least, I think he was your student. I have records that show he was paying you money. That’s actually how I found you. He also once implied that he’d been taught magic, so I made the assumption.” January tilted her head, inquiringly.

  “It was the correct assumption, although I’m rather embarrassed that you had to see those financial records. I didn’t particularly want to take on Luke Bingley as a student. My professional hunch was that he wasn’t ready to learn, and I was proved right. Honestly, I named a price so high I didn’t think anyone would be willing to pay it. I did discontinue our lessons when I found out how he was using the information he’d been taught, but you’ll soon find out that once you’ve started out down a particular road in magic, it is possible to continue down it alone.”

  “Surely you could have done something to stop him, Mr Bennett?” January queried, not entirely convinced that he hadn’t been the one who’d taught Luke the really nasty stuff.

  “Please, call me Tor. Perhaps, in theory, I could have done more, but therein lies the problem – it’s only ‘in theory’. With the exception of extreme circumstances, my magical study is theoretical - apart from when I’m teaching students. I have a feeling that theory won’t be much help to you in your current situation, will it?” He smiled and the skin around his bright blue eyes crinkled.

  “You didn’t think what Luke did to all of the shifters around here counted as extreme circumstances – even when he made someone’s brains leak out of their ears?”

  Tor Bennett pulled a face and January could tell the idea was unpleasant to him. “I did keep an eye on him. If it had got any worse…”

  January sighed. Tor Bennett had apparently shared the opinion of the Board. Then, she’d walked into the magical muddle and had managed to sort out the whole mess for them. She’d noticed that neither Tor nor the Board had bothered to thank her for that.

  “There is some theory I’m interested in, actually,” she said, deciding to steer the conversation back in the direction of the useful. “You may know that I’m a unicorn shifter. I’ve never heard of another one, or any other fantastical shifter. I was wondering if there’s a reason or an explanation for it. I think I’ve got some magic in me, too. I’m interested to know if these two things might be connected.”

  Tor looked pleased. “I’ll do all of the research I can, although I must confess, I’ve been studying shifters for the past three hundred years and have also never heard of such a thing.”

  January tried not to gape. “Three hundred years?!”

  “Every witch has their weakness,” Tor said with a rueful smile. “You’ll have to take my word for it when I say it comes at a terrible price.”

  January’s curiosity was instantly piqued, but she knew now wasn’t the time for more probing questions.

  “So, when can I start learning magic? Also, I think there’s a bounty hunter on my tail at the moment who is probably a witch. If you’ve got any top tips, I am all ears.”

  “We are going to be starting with the basics. I know you’re in trouble, but it really is the only way.”

  January nodded and tried to look agreeable. She’d known it was likely to be the case. Even Harry Potter had started with the simple stuff.

  “What about the bounty hunter?” She queried, desperate for any advice.

  Tor sucked his cheeks in, instantly looking more aged. “I’ll do some research into that, too. Perhaps I can find out who they are and then reason with them. Have you perhaps got some funds that can be used to back up this potential reasoning?”

  January shook her head, slowly, knowing he was suggesting a bribe. “Nothing on what their commissioner is probably offering.” There was no way she could match the Old Ones’ bank account. They seemed to have an endless supply of money. If they really were as old as the stories claimed, they’d probably been around aeons before currency had been invented.

  “Do you know who the people paying the bounty hunters are?” She asked Tor, curious to see how many rumours had spread. She’d told the pack the truth about who they suspected was after them. She’d wanted them to know the risk they were all taking by staying near her.

  “I’ve heard talk about the first vampires,” he said, thoughtfully.

  January nodded and waited expectantly.

  “I’m afraid I hadn’t even heard of these vampires until someone whispered it in my ear. They’re either very secretive, or they don’t exist.”

  “The latter has occurred to me,” January said, but she’d long ago discounted that as wishful thinking. Too much had happened to convince her otherwise.

  “I fee
l that we should probably commence with our first lesson. I will do what I can after our meeting to find you answers, but making a start in practical magic is the most productive thing we can do now.” He smiled and January found that she quite liked Tor Bennett.

  “Wait… we’re going to stay here and do magic?” They were in a pub full of normal people, who were unaware of the existence of much beyond their pint of beer, let alone magic!

  “This particular skill won’t be noticed by anyone here. It’s called witch sight. You can use it to see the true nature of things. For example, if someone has put a spell on something, witch sight will allow you to see what’s been done.”

  January listened to what he was saying and felt a rush of triumph. This may be the most basic level of magic there was, but she could already see how it might come in useful. If the bounty hunter really was a witch, she’d be able to check for be-spelled traps wherever she went!

  “How do you do it?” She asked.

  Tor explained how you had to try and look through things, not at them. It was also sometimes easier when you looked at things out of the corner of your eye instead of straight on. January spent a frustrating ten minutes squinting and twisting her neck, before finally - something happened.

  “There’s something glowing above the bar!”

  Tor nodded. “Well done. It’s a hidden blessing on the beer. I put it there myself, one hundred years ago, as a thank you to the landlord for a favour he did me. By the way… ten minutes is the fastest I’ve ever seen someone learn witch sight. Don’t let it go to your head, but you also broke my endless garden spell more effectively than anyone ever has done before. I still haven’t managed to repair it.” His forehead creased a little. “Your style is very unusual. I suppose it’s instinctive. Still, it could be an advantage.” He looked pensive and then shook himself. “I’m thinking aloud! This is all meant for deeper consideration later. I think that will do for today, don’t you?” He said with a smile.