“Thanks, I’ll think about it.” I wouldn’t feel right about bringing Magpie to the rescue center. Gareth’s house was his home, whether I liked it or not. We’d simply have to find a way to co-exist.
“Where are you off to now?” Lucy asked.
“Gareth’s house,” I said. “To feed the four-legged monstrosity.”
“It’s your house now, silly,” she said.
Maybe so, but it didn’t feel like mine. Not in its current state anyway. I thought about the blue and yellow pot I’d placed on the windowsill. Right now it was the only reflection of me in the house. That would have to change soon…but not until Gareth’s killer was brought to justice. There was a part of me that felt I needed to earn what I’d been given here. If I was honest with myself, it was the real reason I couldn’t stop investigating Gareth’s murder, despite the sheriff’s warnings. If I successfully defended Mumford and helped to solve Gareth’s murder, then, and only then, would I feel like I’d earned the right to enjoy the fruits of Gareth’s labors.
Chapter 13
After another restless night and another morning spent memorizing every detail in Mumford’s file, I wasn’t looking forward to Beginner Spell Casting. It was hard to focus your will when your will was half asleep.
“We’ll have to take you to the Beauty Bar one of these days,” Begonia said, when I sat down beside her.
“If I weren’t so tired, I’d feel insulted,” I replied.
“My facialist has amazing tricks for dark circles under the eyes,” she said.
“I think sleep is the amazing trick I’m looking for,” I said.
“You’re trying too hard to do everything,” Sophie interjected. “You need to relax a little.”
“If I don’t do my job properly, Mumford is the one who will pay the price for it, not me.”
I didn’t want to burden them with my insomnia issues. Unfortunately, my sleep problems predated my new life in Spellbound.
Lady Weatherby appeared at the front of the class in her usual intimidating fashion. “Good afternoon, witches. I’d intended to review the four basic spells again, but I think a departure is in order. Sometimes it’s useful to wander off the beaten path in order to regain one’s perspective.”
Had she and Lucy been comparing notes? It seemed unlikely that the two of them would be friends. Then again, Lucy absolutely adored Mayor Knightsbridge, so anything was possible.
Lady Weatherby’s lips stretched into her version of a smile. “Today might be a good day to test out your wand, Miss Hart.”
“Seriously?” I couldn’t believe it. Were the training wheels coming off already? Before she could change her mind, I rummaged through my shoulder bag and whipped out my wand in anticipation.
“Begonia, as I recall, you were adept with spells of superficiality last term. Why don’t you demonstrate one for us?”
Begonia’s shoulders straightened. “Yes, Lady Weatherby.” She took her place in front of the class. “Any spell in particular?”
“Your choice.”
Wow. Lady Weatherby must have had a shot of generosity in her morning latte. This collaborative approach to learning was not her usual style.
Begonia turned toward me. “This is your lucky day, Emma.”
I find that difficult to believe, I thought to myself.
Me too, Sedgwick chimed in from his corner of the room.
No one asked you, I snapped.
Can I please grab her wand and fly off with it just for fun? I know lots of places off the beaten track.
I’ll bet. You will do no such thing.
Begonia pointed her wand at me and chanted, “Let this spell erase/the stress to Emma’s face.”
I felt the energy prick my skin, more like a vibration than a pinch.
“Someone get her a mirror,” Begonia said excitedly.
Millie thrust a mirror under my nose and my eyes widened at the reflection. The dark circles were gone and my freckles had faded. My complexion was clear and smooth, making my green eyes pop. I could even see little flecks of gold.
I touched my cheek in amazement. Who needed the Beauty Bar when you were friends with talented witches?
“Begonia, that’s incredible.”
She curtsied and glanced over her shoulder at Lady Weatherby. “Please can I do another? Her hair is crying out for a root spell.”
Lady Weatherby rolled her dark eyes. “As you wish. One more and then we’ll move on.”
Begonia pumped her fist in the air before focusing her attention back on me. She pointed her wand again and said, “Consider it a gift/to give this hair a lift.”
I picked up the mirror and gasped. My flat, stringy hair was shiny and full. It was the closest I’d ever come to looking like a Dallas housewife.
“Every witch should feel beautiful,” Begonia said.
“I do now,” I said. “Thank you.”
“All right,” Lady Weatherby said, motioning for Begonia to sit down. “Let’s try something else. Miss Hart, why don’t you take center stage?”
Begonia gave me a supportive squeeze as we passed each other.
“There are other superficiality spells,” Lady Weatherby said. “Obviously Begonia chose ones to improve someone’s appearance. As with all spells, there are ones that produce the opposite result.”
“I’m going to make someone ugly?” I asked.
“Not necessarily,” she replied. “You can choose a spell that mimics an allergic reaction, for example.”
“Like a bee sting?”
“Yes. Or a spell that distorts certain features. Makes the nose bigger or the ears larger.”
I clutched my wand, thinking hard. Under no circumstances did I want to accidentally distort Lady Weatherby’s features. I had to make sure I directed my will in the opposite direction.
“Whenever you’re ready, Miss Hart.”
I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. Pointing my wand at Millie, I began to chant, “A finger to a ring/A face to a sting.”
My fatal error was movement. I was meant to remain in a standing pose, with my feet firmly planted. I knew this the way I knew I needed air to breathe. My brain, however, had other ideas and told my feet to walk toward Millie—probably due to my irrational fear that I’d somehow manage to zap Lady Weatherby anyway.
I lurched forward as the tip of my toe caught on the table leg, and I lost control of the wand. I watched it—in what seemed like slow motion—fly out of my hand and flip through the air. As (bad) luck would have it, the tip of the wand pointed at the door at precisely the moment Sheriff Hugo ducked his head inside. His lips had just parted to speak when the spell took effect. The witches in the room gasped in horror as his cheeks swelled, then his nose, and finally his forehead. If I’d poked his head with a pin, I was sure it would have burst.
“Stars and stones,” Laurel breathed.
A heavy silence followed until my wand clattered to the floor, the sound jarring Lady Weatherby into action. She pointed her own wand at Sheriff Hugo and spoke in Latin. Some kind of counterspell, I assumed. Whatever she did, it worked because the sheriff’s swollen face began to deflate and his normal features were quickly restored. Despite the fast turnaround, the centaur did not seem happy.
I ran over and picked up my wand.
“Miss Hart,” Lady Weatherby seethed. “Please lower your wand.”
My hand dropped to my side. “I wasn’t going to use it again.” I looked back at the sheriff. “I’m sorry. It was an accident.”
“You’ll have to be better than sorry,” Lady Weatherby said. “Sorry doesn’t stir the cauldron.” She inhaled sharply. “Under the circumstances, I think it would be best if you took a break from witchcraft. It’s been rather a lot for you to take in. Perhaps it’s a case of too much too soon.”
If you ask me, the entire town of Spellbound was a case of too much too soon. No one seemed to care how I was coping with this new life. Some residents had centuries to get used to the idea of living here, not
to mention the fact that they already knew they were supernatural creatures. Every bit of this was new to me. Every daily task. I couldn’t possibly be a model student right out of the gate. My familiar wasn’t even a cat! Yet I was expected to embrace this life because I had no choice. Well, it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to mourn the life I left behind. Maybe I needed a funeral procession like Gareth’s. A red robe to publicly display my grief.
Come on, Sedgwick, I said glumly. Let’s go home.
Don’t worry about them. It will blow over in no time.
“It doesn’t matter how long it takes,” I said aloud. “I’ll still be here either way.”
Chapter 14
I left the academy with Sedgwick flying above me at a safe distance. He’d made it clear that he didn’t like to perch on my shoulder like other owls. He was a snobby little thing, but he was mine.
I was too busy wallowing in self-pity to pay attention to where I was going or I would have avoided walking straight into a solid wall of vampire chest.
“Pardon me,” Demetrius said. “Are you all right?”
I was fine, more embarrassed by the fact that my boobs were squashed against his chest mere seconds ago.
“It was my fault,” I blurted. “Everything is my fault. The sheriff’s ugly face. Gareth’s murderer on the loose.” I waved my hands in the air. “And Mumford is probably going to spend eternity in prison because of me.”
Demetrius fixed his soulful eyes on me. “You’re too pretty to look so shaken up. Why don’t you come and have a drink with me? Soothe those fractious nerves of yours.”
“I’d like to, but I have to prepare for Mumford’s trial.” Wow. His eyes were mesmerizing. Could he please stop looking at me like that? It was very…seductive.
“The only part of that sentence I heard was ‘I’d like to.’” His smile was smooth and sexy. The sight of his fangs made my heart flutter.
“I suppose I could spare an hour,” I said. Or two. He even smelled good. Did vampires have a natural scent? I would’ve thought that was more of a werewolf thing.
Sedgwick, you can go home.
Are you sure? What if he tries to bite you?
I’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t.
Witches are weird.
Sedgwick flew off in the direction of the house and I continued to stand there, staring into Demetrius’s handsome face.
“The pub is this way,” he said, and offered his arm.
The Horned Owl was the rival pub to the Spotted Owl. They were owned by incubi—two brothers. Vampires and certain other residents preferred the Horned Owl, whereas werewolves, sirens, and witches preferred the Spotted Owl.
When we walked in together, every head seemed to swivel in our direction. I wasn’t sure if it was the sight of me in the bar, or the sight of me with Demetrius that made them curious.
“You’re very popular,” he murmured, his breath warm on my neck. I shivered.
“It’s probably you. Everybody hates me.”
Speaking of residents who hated me, Sheriff Hugo trotted over from his stool at the bar. “Demetrius. Miss Hart.”
“Sheriff Hugo. A little early for you, isn’t it?” Demetrius asked.
“I’m recovering from an incident,” the sheriff said, giving me a pointed look. “Nothing a shot of whiskey fizz can’t cure.”
“How goes the investigation?” Demetrius asked. “Lord Gilder and the rest of us are quite eager for Gareth’s killer to be brought to justice.”
“I am well aware,” Sheriff Hugo said. “Astrid and I are doing our best, but some folks seem to think they can do a better job.”
“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” I said. “I’m not meddling anymore. I can’t seem to do anything right, and that includes crime solving.”
“Glad to hear it. Best to leave these things to the professionals.” He aimed his index finger at me like a gun and pretended to fire. I was beginning to think he wasn’t a centaur after all. What do you call a creature that’s part man, part jackass?
Demetrius steered me to a quiet booth at the back of the pub. As we passed the booth in front of ours, a familiar face greeted mine.
“Hello,” I said to Daniel. I glanced at his companion, a pretty woman I didn’t recognize. Her hair rolled down her shoulders in titian waves and her creamy complexion made me grateful for Begonia’s spell.
Daniel seemed equally surprised to see me here with Demetrius. “Hello.” He hesitated, taking in my depressed appearance. “Are you okay?”
I smiled weakly. “Define okay.”
“Emma, you know Daniel, our heaven-sent resident.” Demetrius gestured to the woman. “His date is Teena.”
“She’s not my date,” Daniel said quickly.
Teena smiled at me, unconcerned with Daniel’s outburst. “A pleasure to meet you finally, Emma. I have heard so much about you.”
I detected a slight Eastern European accent. How did any of them manage to retain their native accents after so many years? Part of the curse, I guess.
“She’s a succubus,” Demetrius whispered.
I couldn’t remember exactly what a succubus was, except she had something to do with sex. I swallowed hard. Great. Daniel was interested in sex, just not with me. Then again, I was out with a vampire. I wondered what Daniel thought about that. I focused my will on him. Maybe if I could read an owl’s mind, I could read an angel’s mind, too. After all, they both had wings.
“Emma, are you feeling unwell?” Demetrius asked, sliding a concerned hand around my waist.
“No, why?”
“You look like you’re about to be sick.”
I smoothed my hair and smiled. Apparently my focused face had a constipated quality to it.
“You are most welcome to join us,” Teena said.
“Oh.” My gaze shifted from Teena to Daniel. Did he mind? Did he want me to join them?
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get to know Emma without distractions,” Demetrius said. He shot Teena a pointed look. “You know how greedy you can be when it comes to male attention.”
Teena blew him a kiss. “Fair enough, my love.”
I slid into the booth behind them and was acutely aware of Daniel directly behind me. I wasn’t sure if I could give Demetrius my full attention with Daniel so close to me.
“If you need any recommendations, just ask,” Demetrius said. “I’m sure it must be disconcerting, not knowing what to eat or drink.”
His empathy amazed me. Weren’t vampires supposed to be cold, callous creatures? Yet here sat Demetrius, able to pinpoint a basic fact that most others had overlooked.
“Thank you, Demetrius,” I said. “I would love suggestions.”
“Don’t let him suggest the rosenberry cocktail,” Daniel said, hanging over the back of my seat. “It’s potent. He’ll be carrying you home after one drink, which is probably his intention.”
“Mind your own business, errand boy,” Demetrius said. “If you must know, I was going to recommend the house wine with a plate of futzel.”
“Errand boy?” I queried.
Demetrius gave a dismissive flick of his fingers. “You know. Messenger of God.” He rolled his dark eyes. Damn, he even made eye rolling sexy.
“I’m keeping an eye on you, Hunt,” Daniel said. “Emma’s sweet. She doesn’t know you like I do.”
I was sweet? I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be sweet. Did that mean I wasn’t sexy?
“Teena looks bored,” Demetrius said. “You should probably feed her before she goes in search of someone else.”
“She’s not feeding on me,” Daniel ground out. “We’re friends.”
“I’ll be fine, Daniel,” I said. “Thank you for your concern.”
Daniel seemed disappointed that I’d brushed him aside. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for Mumford’s trial?”
I bristled. “I’ve had a crappy day, and Demetrius was kind enough to bring me here to recharge my very frazzled batteries.”
“Anything you wa
nt to tell me about?” Daniel asked. Seeing his concerned expression, I softened.
“Lady Weatherby has expelled me from school temporarily. It seems I’m so horrible at witchcraft, I can’t even handle the remedial class.”
“Oh,” Demetrius and Daniel said in unison.
“That is pretty crappy,” Daniel agreed. “What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. I was sure the whole town would hear about it before the end of the night anyway. That seemed to be how Spellbound worked.
“If you decide you want to talk about it, you know where to find me,” Daniel said.
Actually, I had no clue where to find him, but that wasn’t important right now.
Although I heard them get up to leave, I didn’t turn around to confirm it. I didn’t want to watch Daniel leave with the succubus.
“What did you mean about him feeding her?” I asked. “She’s not a vampire.”
“No,” he said. “More’s the pity. She’s a demon who relies on sex with men to replenish her strength. The longer she goes without sex, the more haggard she looks and feels. Incubi are the same, just the male form. In fact, Teena’s brother owns this place.”
I’d need to steer clear of him. I didn’t want to ‘feed’ anyone that way.
“She didn’t look haggard to me,” I said. “I guess she’s been busy stocking up on…food.”
Demetrius smiled and I saw that flash of fang again. “Speaking of food, why don’t I order for us?”
“Thanks.”
I observed him as he walked over to the bar to exchange a few words with the bartender. Was it wrong to stare at a vampire’s butt? Demetrius didn’t strike me as the type of man who would mind being objectified.
He was back in the booth in a flash, much to my disappointment. I was looking forward to watching the return journey.
“So you have some kind of speed superpower?” I asked.
“We can travel at high speeds,” he said.
“What about flying?”
“Only in bat form,” he said. “And we rarely do that. Too many owls here to risk taking the form of a rodent.”
Curse the Day (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 13