Risky Magic: A Trash Witch Novel

by Tori Centanni

  I thought about that. “But what if I had done something? Like what if I started to use warlock magic on purpose? You would have reported it.”

  Valerie stared very hard at her plate. “I don’t know what I would have done. If it had scared me…I don’t know. Okay?” She looked up at me. “That’s the honest truth.”

  “Okay,” I said, unsure if I believed her. “What about now? You going to turn me in?”

  Valerie’s brow knit and she sat back. “Now?”

  “Yeah. I mean, now that I know, I’m going to want to learn how to use my magic. My real magic.”

  “Oh,” she said, clearly taken aback. What did she think, that I, the person who loved to push my magical boundaries, wasn’t going to learn what I could really do?

  “Because if you’re going to run to Claremont or the council any time I flex my magical muscles, you can pack your bags.” The fact that the council had kept my secret quiet—from some of their new members, even, if Jaden wasn’t lying—meant they weren’t going to punish me for what I was until it was convenient or I became a problem. If they didn’t decide to pin Felix’s murder on me, they might let me go on my merry way until they learned I was using warlock magic. Then all hell would break loose.

  “The lease is under my name,” Valerie said sternly. “And you can’t afford the rent.”

  I folded my arms. “That’s not an answer.”

  She huffed out a breath. “I’m not going to report on you, Avery. I already told you. But you have to promise me a few things.”

  I waited, and when she didn’t elaborate, I dared to ask, “Like what?”

  “You can’t do anything that’s going to set the house on fire, blow it up, or get us both killed.” She met my eyes, her expression hard.

  I laughed. “Okay, that’s fair. One last question. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Valerie let out a long breath. “I don’t know. I wanted to sometimes, when you bragged how your ridiculous spells with inane ingredients somehow worked. But then I thought it wasn’t my place. I figured eventually you’d put it together.”

  I could tell from her soft expression and gentle tone that she wasn’t trying to be mean but it stung a little, because I absolutely should have put it together long before now. The answer was right in front of me the whole time. Every witch in my coven acted like I was on another planet when I mentioned how I’d substituted grass for whatever green plant I didn’t have on hand and the spell had turned out perfectly anyhow. They all shook their heads when I suggested they try mixing up their spells a little. Clearly, it wasn’t common knowledge that I was a warlock but obviously they all assumed I was lying, or barking mad, or something.

  But I knew the spells worked and that should have clued me in.

  “I’m such an idiot,” I said, rubbing my temples.

  “You’re not. Frustrating and stubborn, maybe, but you’re not an idiot.”

  From Valerie, that was high praise. We finished breakfast and I helped do the dishes. Val got out her spell kit, preparing to make more potions to replenish her stock.

  I just stood there, feeling untethered. My world had changed completely. I wasn’t the clever witch I’d always thought. I had warlock magic that I didn’t know how to use and in the meantime, I still had a murder to solve unless I wanted to be thrown in jail for the crime. That would sure be a neat way for the council to get rid of me without even having to reveal they’d had a warlock in their ranks this whole time. And the way Claremont had looked at me, I suspected that was how he wanted this to go.

  “I need to find Felix’s killer,” I said. I was watching Seth knead the back of the sofa but I saw Valerie go still in my periphery.

  There was a long silence.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter 20

  Valerie agreeing to do anything with me involving magic was nothing short of astounding, especially since we both knew what I was.

  But Val had liked Felix, and was worried for Samantha. She wanted his killer found as badly as I did, so desperate times and all that. Plus, she wasn’t ready to watch me hauled off to witch jail and have to pay the bills alone.

  So together we stood on Samantha Prescott’s doorstep. I had dressed in a black blouse but my red leather jacket seemed to dampen the effect. Valerie looked appropriately funereal in her black flared vintage dress with a black peter pan collar, black tights, and black boots.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea? She just lost her husband,” Valerie asked uncertainly, finger hovering over the doorbell.

  “And she won’t get proper closure until his killer is caught,” I said, reaching around to ring the doorbell myself. Valerie harrumphed.

  Samantha answered the door and gestured for us to come inside. An older woman with gray hair, probably in her sixties or so, was in the kitchen. Samantha wore sweat pants and a loose yellow blouse, her hair in a messy ponytail. Her eyes were bloodshot and had huge bags beneath them.

  “We were so sorry to hear about Felix,” Valerie said, without any prompting. “Avery and I wanted to see if we could help.”

  Samantha let out a shuddering breath. “There’s no help for him now.”

  “You girls want coffee?” the woman in the kitchen asked. When she turned toward us, I recognized her as Penelope Allen, one of the elder coven members I saw at meetings. She often wore plum-colored clothes and a big gaudy matching hat, but today she wore a black sweater and looked subdued, which was why I hadn’t immediately recognized her.

  “That would be lovely, thank you, Mrs. Allen,” Valerie said.

  “Samantha, sit down,” Mrs. Allen said, as she fussed with the coffee pot. “You’ve been pacing all night. It’s not good for you.”

  “I’m fine, mother,” Samantha said tersely, but she did take a seat at the table, and so Valerie and I did the same. I supposed I’d seen Mrs. Allen and Sam together, but I’d never really connected the dots that they were related, especially since Sam’s maiden name was Kinney, not Allen. Then again, I often avoided family functions like weddings even on the rare occasion I was invited, as long as I could get away with it without being rude. My invitations were almost always a case of “we’re inviting the whole coven, so you get one, too,” and not because anyone wanted me there and therefore skipping the event wasn’t much of an issue.

  Mrs. Allen served coffee and then joined us at the table. “It was sweet of you girls to come by,” she said. “It’s been so very hard.”

  “Of course,” Valerie said. “Felix was a kind and generous soul, and his loss will be hard for all of us.”

  Samantha looked at Valerie like she wanted to strangle her but was too tired. “His loss is hard for me. He’s my husband and the father of my baby. The council will be fine without him.”

  Mrs. Allen cleared her throat. Baby fussing noises came over the baby monitor on the table, followed by crying. Samantha got up and went upstairs.

  “She hasn’t slept,” Mrs. Allen said apologetically. “Grief is often like being hit by an oncoming train.”

  I thought of my mother and agreed whole-heartedly. I didn’t know if my mother was alive or dead, but she was gone and that loss had ripped open a hole inside of me.

  “It was kind of you to come. I’ve got things under control for now but I’m sure we’ll need help organizing the funeral for the whole coven.”

  “I would be glad to do whatever I can,” Valerie said eagerly. Anything to impress the council, even if it was only helping seat people at a memorial service.

  “I was actually hoping to ask Sam a few more questions,” I said.

  Mrs. Allen's brows rose. “Oh?”

  “I want to find out who killed Felix.”

  Mrs. Allen frowned, her forehead crinkling. “Oh, my dear, they already know that.”

  My heart leapt into my throat, pounding all the while. Valerie and I exchanged a glance. We certainly hadn’t heard that. “They do?”

  Mrs. Allen nodded sadly, bringin
g her mug to her lips. “It was one of those evil warlocks.”

  The ground crumbled beneath me.

  “A warlock?” Valerie asked, voice going up an octave. “Why would one of them hurt Felix?”

  Mrs. Allen set down her mug. “No doubt they’ll ask as soon as they apprehend the monster. Probably trying to lure Felix into demon magic. You know how they are, always wanting us to summon demons for them to consort with.”

  I swallowed back a biting comment. I’d never heard of a warlock asking a witch to do anything beyond the basic potion spells anyone might want. Warlocks could summon demons themselves. But there were always stories of how warlocks and demons tried to corrupt good little witches into doing dark magic that witches weren’t ever meant to handle.

  The darkest magic the council allowed was the making of familiars, and even that had gone out of favor with most young witches in recent years.

  “But Felix wouldn’t have any reason to use demon magic,” I finally said, when I was sure I could keep my tone even.

  Mrs. Allen shrugged. “I do know he was having an argument with Byron Blackmore about allowing more dark magic in witchcraft. Obviously Byron is too sensible a man to agree but Felix had been acting funny.”

  “Sam told me things were normal before he disappeared,” I said, my pulse racing.

  Mrs. Allen waved her hand, dismissing the idea. “She loved him. She wanted to believe things were normal. But Felix has always been trouble. Sam simply never wanted to see it.”

  Valerie pursed her lips. She clearly didn’t agree. Neither did I. But there didn’t seem any point in arguing about it.

  “What makes you think a warlock killed him?” I asked instead.

  “Well, that’s what Byron told me,” she said. “And as one of the heads of the council, I assume he knows what he’s talking about.”

  “Of course he does,” Valerie said, almost on autopilot.

  And Byron would know how to frame a warlock, I thought bitterly. Both Mrs. Allen and Jaden said Byron and Felix had been fighting prior to his death. Byron Blackmore was stern and traditional, a man who thought witches should do as they’d always done and fought against any changes to the status quo. That was easy to do when your family has always had the power. It was hard to picture him killing anyone, but it also fit.

  Upstairs, the baby stopped crying and a minute later, Samantha appeared. “I’m going to take a nap,” she said. “Thank you girls for coming.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. It wasn’t enough. But I was going to catch her husband’s killer, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t a warlock.

  Valerie and I left, and I was immediately relieved to be out in the fresh air and out of the stuffy, oppressive atmosphere of the house.

  “That was awful,” Valerie said.

  My mind was racing and my veins were on fire. “It was Byron Blackmore. He killed Felix.”

  Valerie shook her head, immediately refusing to accept that. “He wouldn’t kill, Avery. He doesn’t need to.”

  “That’s what Jaden said.” I clenched my fists. “But two separate people have said he was fighting with Felix when he was murdered and now he’s trying to pin it on a warlock. He absolutely could have done it.”

  Valerie quickened her pace to walk ahead of me, as if she could outrun the truth. I followed close on her heels.

  “It fits, Val. Byron tells Felix they need to talk somewhere private after the meeting. Felix agrees and follows him to the rest stop, where his body was found.” Valerie stopped, but only because we’d reached the bus stop. And she was desperately searching further down the street for the next bus stop, considering the extra walk just to escape me. I spoke quickly. “Maybe he didn’t mean to kill Felix and really did just want to talk. But they argued, things got heated, and Blackmore lost his cool. With Felix dead, Byron panicked, moved the car, and went home, pretending not to know anything. You should have seen his face when I found the body, Val. He was furious.”

  “Because you weren’t supposed to be looking for Felix!” Valerie argued.

  “Or because he hadn’t planned on any of us finding it,” I countered. “Humans have a principle called Occam’s Razor. It means the simplest explanation is usually the right one.”

  “I know what Occam’s Razor is.” She folded her arms across her chest. “But I don’t buy it. Byron Blackmore is too powerful to commit murder. He could have convinced the rest of the council to vote Felix out or something.”

  “Power never stops people. In fact, I’d say the opposite is true.”

  Valerie shoved her hands in her dress pockets and stared at the traffic zipping by on Eastlake Avenue. “Did you kill him?”

  “What?” I asked, absolutely floored. My heart leapt into my throat, doing its best butterfly impression.

  “I have to ask.” She glanced at me quickly and then turned back to the road.

  “No, you don’t, because you know I didn’t. Why would I hunt down his car and his body if I had?”

  “I don’t know.” She chewed her lip.

  “Val, I didn’t kill anyone.” I glared at her, willing her to believe me.

  She sighed. “Then it seems Byron is trying to set you up. Not that I think he did it. I don’t. But you know how the council is. Now that his body has been found, they’ll want a quick and easy answer so they can put the whole thing to bed.”

  “And this is the esteemed council you’re so desperate to be a part of.” That was snippy of me, but I couldn’t help it. My patience was hanging by a very thin thread.

  “You can’t change things from the outside,” she said simply.

  The bus appeared further down the street. I pulled out my Orca card, which was my bus pass, to pay for the ride.

  “Look,” she said, as the bus rumbled toward us. “I don’t believe Byron Blackmore would kill anyone. If that’s the angle you’re taking, then I can’t help you anymore. But I also won’t support your arrest.”

  I was silent, turning over the events of the last week in my mind. Felix disappeared, but someone had known he was dead, and it was likely that was someone on the council. They had persuaded the rest of the council that Felix had run off due to the stress of having a new baby and wanting a new life. But some members hadn’t completely bought into it and they probably figured it was only a matter of time before Felix’s car or body was found, or at least until someone started asking hard questions.

  Which meant they needed a plan.

  My heart fell from my throat to my stomach, splashing acid up my throat.

  “I think you’re right that Byron Blackmore is going to try and frame me. And I think Jaden is helping him.”

  The bus squealed to a stop in front of us and we both got on. Valerie climbed aboard first, taking an empty row near the back. Rush hour hadn’t started yet and the bus was fairly empty. I sat beside her so she couldn’t escape me.

  “Jaden wouldn’t do that,” she whispered quietly.

  “Right. I forgot. You’re practically a Blackmore. They can do no wrong.”

  Valerie leaned back against her seat and stared out the window, no longer willing to argue. Luckily, I practiced arguing to myself with my cat and I was happy to keep going.

  “Hear me out: Byron kills Felix, probably by accident. He feels bad but he can’t allow himself to get caught. Killing someone because he lost his temper might be enough to get even Blackmore kicked off the council. He decides to frame the coven warlock instead, so he asks Jaden to convince me to help him find Felix. Then when I’m hot on the trail, they can use it to prove I must have killed him. After all, only the killer could have found his body, or that’s the tact they’re planning to take.”

  Valerie gave me a side-eye. “Almost no one knows you’re a warlock,” she said. “Besides, that’s a terrible plan. Why not let the body rot, never found? It would be easier.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe he cares about Samantha. Doesn’t want Felix’s kid growing up without knowing what happened to his dad.”

&
nbsp; Valerie considered.

  “I’m right,” I pressed, because I knew it was true. It explained everything: how Byron Blackmore found out I had Felix’s car in my garage (Jaden told him) and why Jaden asked me of all people for help in the first place. I was normally the last person anyone on the council would go to for help unless they had an ulterior motive. It made perfect sense.

  It made my heart hurt but I was sure I was right.

  “I don’t think you are,” Valerie said, still staring out the window. “And if you’re going to accuse Byron Blackmore of murder, you’re on your own.”

  “Yeah, I’d hate for you to risk a future place on the council to do what’s right.” I got up and moved to a seat in the front for the rest of the trip downtown, refusing to look back at Valerie.

  Chapter 21

  Going to Blackmore Manor was always intimidating as heck but as I hiked up the hill toward the gate that blocked the manor, as well as several other prominent council member’s houses, from public access, my nerves jangled.

  It was bad enough showing up for a holiday party feeling underdressed while people whispered about me. But marching to their door in order to accuse the head of the household of murder was lighting my nerves on fire.

  I’d had a cab drop me off a little way down the hill so I could come up with a plan while I hiked. The houses in this neighborhood were all large homes with stunning views of Lake Washington, Puget Sound, and the Seattle skyline. Sloped driveways were free of debris despite leaves flying off cherry and apple blossom trees, and yards were perfectly manicured. Each house could fit my house inside it at least three times over.

  The gate was at the fork of a winding road. The other, more traversed fork curled around and went back down the hill, while the straight path narrowed to a single lane, curved behind some trees, and then ran up to the gate. Beyond the gate, obscured by trees, sat Blackmore Manor and half a dozen mansions that sat in the manor’s shadow, all belonging to witches.