Risky Magic: A Trash Witch Novel

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Risky Magic: A Trash Witch Novel Page 11

by Tori Centanni


  Jaden and I headed back to the Lodge.

  Chapter 17

  The Lodge’s parking lot looked exactly the same as it had the other day, empty and currently bathed in late afternoon sun. Jaden parked on the street, as we’d want to follow the shadow of Felix’s car as it pulled out of the lot. He got out and began to type the gate code.

  “Not necessary,” I said. “I just need to break this.”

  The bottle of slime green potion was warm in my hand. The magic sang, vibrating inside like carbonation. Willing this to work—and still a little afraid of what that would mean—I tossed the bottle over the gate. The glass shattered, the viscous ghost potion spreading around the shards. A swirl of lights, like a slow, purple tornado rose from the spilled mess. It gathered steam and grew in size as it whirled around the parking lot collecting bits of energy. And then the tornado burst like an overfilled balloon.

  A shadow appeared in its wake: Felix, a pale, ghostly form of the man himself. He wore the council uniform: black on black complete with black boots. He held his key fob in his hand and pressed the unlock button. The ghost form of his Toyota Camry appeared in a puff of purple smoke. He waved, presumably to someone else from the council, before getting in his car.

  As I watched, my heart pounded and my throat went dry.

  “Holy crap, it worked,” Jaden said. Again, he looked at me as though he’d just discovered I was an alien from the planet Zorp. Which wasn’t too far off, if I was actually part demon from the Underworld.

  “Let’s go,” I said, as Felix’s ghostly car pulled out and drove toward the gate. We hurried back into Jaden’s car in time to see the ghost car pull onto the street. Jaden followed it closely. Felix seemed to be heading back toward home but then something stopped him. He pulled over and rolled down his window. We pulled up next to the ghost car and through the open window, he seemed to be speaking to us. He looked annoyed, his hand flying up to grip his hair in frustration. But he wasn’t scared.

  “I wish we could hear what he’s saying,” Jaden said, staring at the man’s lips as if trying to read them.

  I agreed. It would have been nice to have audio. Might help us figure out who he was speaking to. Unfortunately, ghost spells were pantomimes of events that came before and had no sound, just ethereal images.

  Felix slumped back in his seat, resigned to something. He waited for a second and pulled back out onto the road, but this time he changed course. Instead of driving back toward Interbay where he lived, he got onto Interstate 5, heading North.

  I shivered. Valerie had been taken in the same direction.

  The ghost car sped in front of us, changing lanes periodically until finally, way north of Seattle and all of its suburbs, it pulled off at an exit. Not the same one Val had been taken to, though the road seemed to lead somewhere rural. He parked at a farm stand that was boarded up and covered with signs that read: “Closed for the Season! Open in May!”

  The ghost of his car faded as Felix walked away from it. He spoke to someone, following them into a field behind the farm stand, seeming more annoyed by the minute. Whatever he thought was happening, he clearly felt it was a waste of his time. He wasn’t scared, I noted. Just frustrated. He didn’t want to be there but he didn’t think he was in danger.

  I hopped out of Jaden’s car to follow but the ghost of Felix faded before it could disappear into the trees. Jaden appeared beside me, and we watched as the ghost potion lost its power and the spell broke with a small pop! and a blast of green smoke.

  “Who was he following? And what on earth was he told to convince him to come out here?” I asked, gesturing around the empty, abandoned space.

  Jaden shook his head and stared into the trees.

  In the afternoon sunlight, this place felt calm and quiet, a place to relax. In summer, there would be lots of traffic as people came to buy local corn, strawberries, and green beans. Small buds and new leaves grew on the tree branches. Birds chirped and sang. A rabbit ran through the brush. The place was innocuous enough, though I couldn’t imagine what lie had convinced Felix he needed to follow someone out here in the dark.

  I stepped into the small patch of weeds in front of the trees. Jaden reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. His warmth spread down my back.

  “Perhaps we should call in reinforcements,” Jaden said.

  “And tell them what?” I asked. “That we cast a ghost spell? That will go over well.”

  He let go of my shoulder. I pushed through the brush and into the trees.

  The first thing that hit me was the smell: the fetid, rotten odor of decay. It burned my eyes and made my nose itch. I pressed on.

  About six feet in, my stomach twisted and my heart stopped. Felix’s body lay on the ground, pressed against the trunk of a tree. A half-assed attempt had been made to cover him with fallen branches and debris, but his face, pale and sagging, was easy enough to make out. His black clothes helped disguise him in the shadows, though some creature had dragged one of his boots several feet away.

  Bile rose in my throat. Behind me, Jaden let out a little gasp.

  I spun and left the trees, relieved to break free and breathe fresh air. Jaden followed.

  “What now?” I asked. My heart slammed into my ribs and nausea washed over me.

  “I’m not sure. I did not expect…” He trailed off, looking at the trees and no doubt thinking of what lay hidden inside. “We cannot leave him and risk the killer moving him. And yet…”

  “We can’t really move him,” I said. Times like these, I envied normal mortals and their 9-1-1 system and police. Must be nice. “What were those reinforcements you were talking about?”

  “Now that we have him, we can call the council,” Jaden said, his face a little green. “They will send a team to recover the remains.”

  “Shouldn’t we… I don’t know, look for evidence on the body first?” It was a stupid question. Felix was in bad shape, and I had no doubt he’d been here since the night he went missing. I didn’t know any spells for revealing fingerprints or other such evidence, and besides, if he’d been killed with magic, any trace of it would be gone by now.

  Jaden pulled out a notepad and a marker and wrote a note. Then he whistled and extended an arm. A crow flew out of one of the taller trees in the distance and landed on Jaden’s arm. It cocked its tiny black head, examining Jaden with glossy black eyes. He extended the rolled up piece of paper to the crow, who took it in his beak and then flew off.

  Then we stood around and waited for the council to show up.

  “Where is Felix?” Byron Blackmore demanded without preamble, slamming the door of his white Lexus SUV. He was first to arrive, though he’d brought along Stephen Claremont, as the other man had apparently been at Blackmore Manor when the crow arrived, as we’d later learn. Both men wore the all black council uniforms and Claremont even wore a cape.

  “In the trees,” Jaden said, gesturing.

  Byron paused to look his son in the face. He muttered something inaudible and Jaden shrank back slightly. The threat hung in the air as Blackmore senior headed for the woods. Stephen Claremont glared at us both before following behind.

  Claremont stopped at the tree line, coughing and looking ill. “Is he in there?” he called.

  “Indeed he is,” Byron called back, quick to exit the scene. He marched back to us and this time, focused his ire on me. “How did you find him?”

  “I did a tracking spell,” I said. It wasn’t entirely a lie, as I had done a tracking spell. It just hadn’t worked and then I’d tried something else.

  “Bullshit,” Claremont muttered.

  I shrugged. I wasn’t going to elaborate. “The important thing is, I found him and he obviously hasn’t run off.”

  “Obviously.” Byron did not sound happy about that. “I suppose this means the council will have to launch an investigation and inform his family.”

  “Could be suicide,” Claremont pointed out. “But either way, of course we’ll let Samantha kn
ow.”

  “There’s no way he killed himself out here and then moved his car,” I said.

  Claremont’s gaze sharpened on me. “No doubt some ne'er do well stole it. Perhaps he was meeting a drug dealer and the villain absconded with his vehicle.”

  I bristled, ignoring how Claremont sounded like an evil factory owner in the 1890s. “I doubt anyone dealing in drugs would come all the way out here just to sell them.” Particularly the brand of supernatural drugs any witch who used would prefer.

  I didn’t add that I was sure Felix had been super reluctant to come out here, and that wasn’t the behavior of a guy buying his favorite party drug. He had known his killer well enough to trust them and follow them to such a remote, strange location, but he hadn’t been happy about it.

  “Your help is no longer needed, Ms. Burke,” Claremont said haughtily. “This is now a matter for the council. We will determine what happened.”

  Because I valued my freedom, I did not scoff, but it was a massive effort. “Ten minutes ago, the council didn’t give a fig what had happened to this man, and now it’s none of my business?”

  Claremont’s lips curled up in the strange approximation of a smile, only one that was full of anger. “My dear, you are not a council member. You’re barely a coven member. However you found the body, we thank you for your efforts, but your job here is done.”

  Heat exploded in my cheeks. Anger flared in my midsection, but it was dampened by shame. Barely a coven member? I was a witch living in the region of the local coven and I went to the meetings. That was literally all that was required. He didn’t get to decide I barely counted because of my reputation for playing fast and loose with magic.

  Before I could tell Stephen Claremont exactly where he could put his assessment of my place in the coven, Byron Blackmore said, “We will of course want a statement made before the council about how you located Mr. Prescott.”

  “It is quite lucky you managed to find him way out here,” Stephen mused, the implication clear. “One would think only the killer would know where to find his body in such a remote location.”

  Fury flared hotter. He was daring to suggest that I killed Felix?

  “It wasn’t luck. It was magic,” I said defiantly, crossing my arms. Jaden remained still and impassive, not bothering to come to my defense. I didn’t know why I was surprised but I was, and it hurt.

  “As stated previously, you can explain before the council when you are called upon to do so,” Byron said. “For now, you may go. Jaden, you owe the council a great deal of explanation about your involvement here as well.”

  “He wasn’t involved. I asked him to give me a ride,” I said. Jaden frowned at me. I ignored him. “He didn’t know what I was doing. I was just using him for his wheels.”

  “I see,” Byron said, nodding, apparently satisfied with any explanation that meant his darling boy was innocent of defying his precious council. “Thank you for your honesty, Ms. Burke. Jaden, take the young lady home. And then go home yourself.”

  Jaden nodded solemnly. “Of course, father.”

  We got into his car. I would have insisted on staying, but I didn’t want to get Jaden into any more trouble and there wasn’t anything I else could do. Felix was beyond help and the matter was out of my hands.

  “Why did you do that?” Jaden asked, as he navigated his way back to the freeway.

  “Do what?” I leaned back against the seat, pressing my head against the headrest.

  “Cover for me.”

  I shrugged. “It was my spell.”

  “And yet it was done at my behest. I’m the one who asked you to find Felix.” Jaden tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, his rings catching the sunlight. “And then I accused you of being…”

  “Seems like maybe, since the spell worked, that accusation wasn’t all that far off base,” I said, my stomach churning. I’d been so shocked by the discovery of Felix’s body, I hadn’t let myself process the implications of the spell working. But it had and I wasn’t sure what that meant. Either I was really good at manipulating witch magic or I was a warlock, and the latter seemed more and more likely.

  Jaden took furtive glances at me as he drove. I tried to ignore him. Finally, he said, “Perhaps it doesn’t matter.”

  “What doesn’t matter?”

  “That you may be a warlock.”

  I blinked. “Of course it matters. It would change everything I know about myself and my magic. It would mean I’m not some great innovator whose risky magic works, just a warlock who doesn’t understand her own powers.”

  It also meant I would be kicked out of the coven. Warlocks, even ones born to witches and therefore, technically, also half-witches, were not allowed. They were considered aberrations, the result of illegal and dangerous encounters with creatures of darkness.

  And I’d have to find a new place to live. If Valerie wasn’t already halfway out the door, she would be as soon as my demon blood was confirmed. She may have thought I was a warlock before, but knowing was different than having a suspicion. So if I was a warlock, my whole life was about to be turned completely upside down. Jaden Blackmore couldn’t possibly understand what that felt like.

  “What I meant to say,” he said softly, “was that perhaps it doesn’t matter to me what you are.”

  I felt that strange warmth again and tried to tamp it down. Jaden had been horrified by me and now he was looking at me with something like… admiration? Desire? I didn’t know. Whatever it was, it was too fleeting for me to trust, even if it burned in his eyes as he stole glances in my direction.

  After a long silence of watching cars whizz past on the freeway, I asked, “Are you going to tell your father about me?”

  “No. That knowledge is not mine to tell,” he said without any hesitation. “I shouldn’t have blurted the theory out in front of your roommate, either. I was stunned by the revelation and I believe she already suspected as much, but it wasn’t my place to do so. I apologize.”

  Jaden Blackmore, apologizing? To me? The world was already leaning sideways but this might actually tip it all the way over.

  “You may have to tell the council, though, in order to prove how you were able to find the body without… you know…”

  “Killing him myself and dumping the body?” I supplied.

  His lips twitched. “Yes, that.”

  I sighed. He was right. Unless I admitted that I might possibly be a warlock—something I definitely didn’t want the council to know, especially before I was even sure of it myself—I had no way to explain how I’d managed to find Felix when everyone knew a simple tracking spell without the man’s blood never would have done so. Even if I’d just lucked out and made witch magic work for me, the council would never believe that.

  Then a thought struck me. I straightened in my seat. “Or, I could just turn over the real killer. Then it won’t matter how I found his body.”

  Jaden smirked. “Oh, is that all?”

  Chapter 18

  On television, solving murders always looked so easy. Take some DNA samples, find a stray hair on the body, smell the killer’s perfume lingering at the scene, and voila! The killer is revealed and the case is closed.

  In real life, even being a witch didn’t make it easy.

  Felix had been killed and dumped after a council meeting. We knew he’d left the Lodge alive in his own car and driven to the murder site himself. He’d either followed his killer or had been given directions. His killer had to be someone he knew.

  Felix was a traditional witch. His only job was to be on the council, a gig that paid pretty well although how much or in what currency was information us plebeian witches did not have, and I didn’t dare ask Jaden. It didn’t matter. Being a witch supported his family. Maybe his wife sold some charms on the side. His friends were witches. Those were the people he knew and cared about.

  So I knew that his killer was likely one of us.

  Why he’d been killed was the big question that would le
ad us to the murderer.

  Jaden, already disobeying his father and the council, agreed to drive me to the Underground Market instead of straight home.

  The sun had set during our drive and the Market was unusually busy, crowds swarming the Market’s main street. A cacophony of voices, gentle chimes, and magical demonstrations filled the air, along with puffs of colored smoke that traveled up through hidden vents in the ceiling.

  “Respectable witches rarely visit the Market unless they’re vending,” Jaden said, as we fought through the crowd.

  “Respectable witches don’t commit murder,” I countered.

  But he had a point. Unless a witch was selling their wares, it was rare to see them down here. There was something of a stigma against buying magic as a witch. If your own magic wasn’t powerful enough, then the thinking was you ought to work on your own skills, rather than buy help. Especially since the things that might increase a witch’s power—demon blood, dragon fire, fae enchantments—were considered dangerous when not outright illegal.

  Valerie sat at our table, selling bottles of potions and raking in the cash. I sighed wistfully at the sight of her making money with such ease. Once rumors that I wasn’t just reckless but almost certainly a warlock made their way around, no one would buy my stuff. I was already struggling to pay my share of the bills and now I had no clue how I’d manage. Warlock magic was frowned upon as unstable and unreliable, and warlocks, being part demon, were all seen as nasty liars and tricksters.

  Jaden spotted Val and headed in her direction, but I grabbed his arm and shook my head. We were not here for her. She didn’t know anything. Jaden frowned but followed my lead. Finally, we reached a small alley that turned off in the direction opposite Demon Alley. This one was short and home to a single blue tent with velvet curtains and a sign out front. “Magic Made to Order” the sign read.

  Jaden clenched his teeth and practically hissed at it. “She is exiled,” he whispered harshly, as if afraid the tent’s occupant might hear.

 

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