A Hex a Day (Which Village Book 1)

by L. C. Mortimer

  But first, I needed to clarify.

  Had it been Jasper that she'd seen?

  Or Stanley?

  "What did the man look like?" I asked gently.

  "Long hair," she said.

  "Are you sure it wasn't a woman?" Eliza asked.

  "Definitely not. The person's build was definitely mannish."

  Jasper had short hair. Stanley had short hair, too, but I hadn't seen him in months. If he'd been alive this entire time, it was possible that his hair was long now.

  "What else can you tell us about the man's appearance?" I asked. I wanted to know. Needed to know.

  "He was taller than Alicia."

  "And?"

  I was trying not to get impatient, but it was hard. Eliza and I were both watching as Natasha struggled to remember.

  "His hair was kind of light brown, and he had normal-looking clothes. I never saw him anywhere else, so I don't think he was from around here. Oh, and he had a tattoo on his arm. Well, maybe not a tattoo. I think it was a scar of some sort."

  I stilled.

  "Which arm?" I asked.

  Before she could answer, Eliza shot me a look that said I shouldn't push too hard. She knew exactly what I was thinking. When Stanley had died, it had been in an accident. I hadn't been able to claim his body. When the authorities contacted me regarding his death, they hadn't said much. They'd just said there had been an accident, and he was gone. Had it been a car accident? Had a tree fallen on him? Had he drowned? I didn't know. He'd gone to the shop and then on his way back he'd...

  Well, he'd never made it back, and I hadn't spoken the language in that country well enough to know exactly what they were saying. He'd had scars on his left arm, though. The scars had been from a bicycle accident when he was a kid that he completely removed the skin from his limb. He'd had surgery to make things look normal again, but they hadn't.

  It could have been him.

  I thought I might throw up.

  Just then, Helena did come in. Natasha wisely closed her mouth and pretended that she couldn't speak. Eliza and I looked over as Helena came into the kitchen where we were sitting. Suddenly, the room seemed a lot smaller than it had just moments ago.

  "The firefighters managed to put the fire out," she said. "With a little help from me." She held up her hands proudly.

  "Do you know a spell to put fires out?" I asked, curious. I still had a lot to learn about inner-workings of my mother's paranormal town.

  She nodded, smiling. Helena was obviously very pleased about this, and she was more than happy to talk about herself.

  "I trained for a year with a group dedicated to putting out wildfires," she explained. "We all decided that if we were going to have magical abilities, we wanted to use them for good."

  "How noble."

  "Thank you."

  Helena looked at Natasha, then. I couldn't tell whether Helena hated Natasha or whether she was just weird and cranky. She seemed to narrow her gaze as she looked at the woman.

  "Has she said anything?" She asked.

  "Not yet," Eliza said. "We wanted to wait for you." Eliza's voice was calm and even. She gave away nothing. She didn't let Helena know that we'd already talked to Natasha, nor did she let on that Natasha didn't know anything. Personally, I thought the fact that they had essentially captured Natasha was really weird. This wasn't the middle ages. We could talk to people normally.

  "Take the charm off," Helena ordered.

  Eliza whispered something, pretending to take off the spell, and Natasha's mouth opened. She wiped it off, pretending to clear away drool, and then looked at us.

  "What?" She asked. "Was that really necessary?" Natasha shook her head dramatically. "I really feel like that wasn't necessary. You could have just asked to talk to me like a normal person."

  I had to admit that Natasha was a wonderful actress. She'd played her part beautifully. She'd done a great job convincing me that she was not only charmed, but that she was irritated about having Eliza put a spell on her.

  "Of course, it was necessary," Helena said. "Now, explain."

  "Explain what?"

  "You're a busybody," Helena pointed out. Speaking of necessity, I wasn't sure if that was really needed. It might be true, but the words were still pretty harsh. I had basically already said the same thing to Natasha, and now, hearing those words come from Helena’s mouth, I felt bad. Natasha bristled, obviously just as irritated as I was.

  "Excuse me?"

  "You heard me."

  "Is there something that you want?" Natasha said. "Because it kind of sounds like you're only here to bully me."

  "I'm here to figure out exactly what it is that you know about your neighbor's house burning down."

  "I already told you that I didn't see anything."

  Helena just stared. She had obviously mastered the art of waiting people out. That was important. So many people became uncomfortable with awkward silence. If you waited long enough, most of the time, someone would start talking.

  They had to.

  They couldn't help themselves.

  At least, that had been my experience.

  Natasha, however, didn't give in to Helena's obvious whims. Helena stared at Natasha, and Natasha stared right on back. Her eyes were fierce and glowing just a little bit. I wondered for a moment if there was going to be some sort of witch fight.

  It seemed as though we'd come to a standstill. Helena wanted to know what Natasha had seen, and Natasha sworn she had seen nothing.

  Finally, Eliza sighed.

  "We aren't going to get anywhere like this," she said.

  "Well, if she would just cooperate," Helena hissed. "Then it would be such a big deal. Would it?"

  "I already told you I didn't see anything," Natasha shrugged. "I don't know what else you want from me."

  "Let it go, Helena," Eliza said. She turned to Natasha. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience," she said. "We'll be leaving now."

  "We'll be leaving when I say we are," Helena snapped. She glared at Eliza, and I was surprised to see how much animosity and anger she had hidden behind those eyes.

  "No," Eliza said. She placed her hand on Helena's, and she stared at her sadly. "We'll be leaving now."

  Something shifted in the air. I didn't know what was going on, but when we got outside, I had the feeling that I'd just seen something very important. What was I supposed to do next?

  "Come on," Eliza said, glancing toward the remnants of my mother's house. "You can stay with me."

  I took one last glance at the burned-down house, and then I follow Eliza to the car.

  Chapter 7

  I hadn't planned on staying in Eliza's huge Victorian home. It obviously doubled as her workspace, so during the day she saw clients downstairs and I hid away upstairs on the second floor. She gave me a nice little room to stay in. It was decorated with imitation flowers and beautiful paintings, and there was a big bed in the center of the room.

  For an entire week, I hid away. I went over my mother's diary again and again. The notebook should have given me some sort of clue, but the truth was that I really didn't know what to do next.

  I was at a loss. Eliza seemed to throw herself into her work. I didn't blame her for that, either. She had lost her girlfriend and me...

  Well, I just didn't know what I was supposed to do.

  I'd planned on staying in Which Village, or at least entertained the possibility of it, but maybe my mom's house burning down was some sort of cosmic sign that I shouldn't.

  Could that be true?

  Was there such a thing as destiny?

  Perhaps most importantly, was that what I was experiencing? The world seemed a lot bigger without my mom and Stanley in it, and after a few days where nothing happened at all, I was starting to wonder if I'd worked myself into a frenzy for nothing.

  After that first week hiding away in Eliza's house, I decided to go for a walk. She was going to be busy with clients, and I needed to get out and stretch my legs a little bit. Si
tting around could be relaxing, but it could also be terrifyingly horrible.

  When you were alone with your thoughts for too long, it became pretty easy to wallow in seas of regret and to start falling into endless pity parties. I didn't want to do either of those things, but I was lost.

  Eliza was already meeting with someone when I reached the first floor of her house. The door to her office was closed, so I simply slipped out of the house. I was quiet, but not sneaky. I wasn't a teenager trying to sneak out of the house on a date. I was a grown woman. If I wanted to go on a walk, I could do that.

  I could do anything.

  Eliza's neighborhood was quiet and calm, but she lived only a few blocks from the bustling downtown of Which Village. It was still much quieter than other places I'd lived, but once I got to Main Street, there were shops and stores and a few little cafes. I passed the inn where I'd stayed that first night. I saw Lionel in the window of the lobby, and I waved. I didn't think that he saw me. If he did, he didn't wave back to me.

  Strange.

  Annoying.

  Disappointing.

  I liked to think that I was the type of person people would remember. Maybe I was, but maybe it was in all of the wrong ways. He remembered that I came to town after my mother died. I wondered how many people judged me for our failed relationship.

  I stopped in a little shop and walked around, looking at all of the tiny trinkets. It was a souvenir shop of sorts.

  "Can I help you, dear?" An older-looking woman stepped out from behind the counter and walked over. She was wearing a simple red dress and a long apron on the front.

  "I'm okay," I said. "Just browsing."

  "Getting a lot of that lately," she sighed. "Well, then, take your time."

  "What do you mean?" I asked her. "What do you mean you've had a lot of that lately?" I didn't want to be too intense, but as I glanced around the shop, I couldn't help but notice I was the only one there. More than that: it looked like there hadn't been anyone else in the shop for a long time.

  "It's just that there have been quite a few tourists lately," she said.

  "That's strange. Here?"

  "Yes, dear."

  "I'm not trying to be nosy," I started.

  "By all means," she waved her hand. "Nose away."

  "How often do you get new visitors to your shop?" I asked. "Are there a lot of tourists who come to Which Village?"

  "More than you'd think," she said. "Or maybe less." She shrugged. "We didn't have visitors for months, and then all of a sudden, they seem to be everywhere."

  "I wonder why."

  "Beats me."

  It was a bit strange. I got the feeling that most of the residents of Which Village lived here because it was quiet and off the beaten path. People lived here because they didn't really want to have to go out of their way to hide who they were. The witches and wizards who lurked here did it because this was a place where nobody would judge them.

  Nobody would hunt them down. Nobody would hurt them.

  Only, somebody had.

  Somebody had hurt my mother. Had it been one of the new people who'd come wandering around? Or had it been someone local? Maybe the fact that Jasper was after her werewolf potion meant something. Maybe it meant everything. I hadn't seen the cat recently. Maybe he wasn't even around anymore.

  The woman in the shop was patient with me as I looked around. Finally, I grabbed a little trinket that looked unique and interesting. It was a small woodcarving of a tiny animal. It looked like a wolf, but it could have been a different kind of creature. I wasn't quite sure, but I was happy with my purchase.

  "Thank you." I waved goodbye as I left the shop. The little bell on the door jingled as I left, letting the woman know that I was, in fact, leaving. Then I was outside once again, and I continued on my walk.

  I went around the downtown area, taking my time looking around. Everyone seemed so normal in Which Village, at least at first glance. It wasn't until I was really paying attention that I started to notice the things about this place that were different.

  One person walked by and kept sniffing the air. Maybe they were a wolf shifter or something like that. Perhaps they were really sensitive to different smells.

  Then there was someone who kept mumbling to themselves about hexes and potions. What was it they were so worried about?

  I saw a couple of people dipping into a shop that advertised as selling herbs. In a different life, I would have thought it was some sort of weed shop, but nope. It really was just a place where people could buy herbs for all of their witchy needs.

  As I walked along the street, I couldn't stop thinking about how wildly my life had changed in such a short time. Less than a year ago, I'd been traveling around with Stanley. We'd been talking about settling down and not moving from place to place as much. Kids? We'd talked about it. We'd talked about getting a pet, too. There were a lot of things we'd discussed, but then he'd just...vanished.

  Everyone told me he was dead. The police officers who came to explain that he was gone had said he'd been in some sort of collision. Was that a lie? Had he actually been attacked or killed by someone? Had there been an animal attack? They'd been very happy to help me leave the country quickly and without a lot of fuss.

  You'll want to mourn back home.

  That's what they had told me.

  Now, I was toying with the idea that my husband might actually be alive and not dead. What the hell was that all about? If it was true, then part of me was horribly bothered that Stanley hadn't told me he was alive. He'd let me worry about him all on my own. He'd let me grieve and mourn and he'd let me try to move on.

  The truth was that there was no moving on.

  After you found true love, and after you spent your life falling for someone wonderfully special, you couldn't just "move on."

  That wasn't how it worked.

  Resigned that I wasn’t going to find answers, I decided to head back home. Eliza would be wondering where I went, anyway. At the very least, we could eat some dinner together. I was just about to turn on the street that would lead me back to Eliza's place when I saw a flash of back in the corner of my eye.

  Jasper.

  I whirled around just as the cat vanished around a corner, but I didn't hesitate. I took off running, chasing him. He might be a shifter cat, but I was a witch, apparently, or about to be. I didn't know jack shit about using my powers, and I didn't really care. The only thing that mattered was getting answers.

  I needed them.

  We all needed them.

  And so I ran.

  I chased that damn cat down a street, through someone's backyard, and over a little fence. It was a good thing I ran track in high school and that Stanley had encouraged me to keep up with my running abilities. Otherwise, I might have faltered. As it was, I managed to keep up with the black cat easily.

  Besides, it seemed to be slowing down.

  Finally, we rounded yet another corner in the midst of suburbia, and he shifted back into his human - very naked - form. He spun around and held his hands up.

  "What?" He snapped. "What could you possibly want from me?"

  "What could I want? How about some damn answers?" I glared at him and hoped I looked scarier than I felt. What I felt like was a tiny little mouse who had gotten caught by the big bad cat. What I felt like was that I was wandering into a territory I knew nothing about. It definitely seemed like I was about to be served up to the wolves, and I didn't like that feeling very much.

  Or at all.

  "You?"

  "What about me?"

  He shook his head and laughed. It was a cold sort of laugh, and it made me feel utterly embarrassed. He thought I was stupid, I realized. Either that, or he knew something that I didn't know.

  "Nothing," he said. "It's just that there's something you don't know."

  There it was.

  There was something I didn't know.

  I was tired of being kept in the dark, too.

  "Tell me."


  "Or what?" He raised an eyebrow. "You'll put a spell on me?"

  "Exactly right."

  "You don't know any spells."

  "Don't I?" I raised an eyebrow. "You've been keeping an eye on me, haven't you?"

  His silence told me everything I needed to know.

  "You have, huh? So, you know that I've been staying with Eliza. You know that she's a powerful witch. You know she was involved with my mother, who was also a powerful witch."

  "Make your point, dolly. We don't have all day."

  "I'm training under Eliza's careful watch, and I'm already twice as powerful as my mother was."

  "Prove it."

  "Here?" I laughed out loud and shook my head. "Nice try. I'm not about to be arrested for assaulting a cat shifter in public. Now what is it you were going to tell me?"

  It was a lie.

  Everything that had just come out of my mouth was a total lie.

  Eliza wasn't training me.

  I didn't have any powers.

  I definitely wasn't twice the witch my mother had been.

  So why had I said it?

  Well, I wasn't quite sure.

  I just needed to know what it was that Jasper knew. I needed to get him talking, and I needed to convince him that I was worth trusting. And fast.

  "I can help you," I blurted out.

  That had him interested. An eyebrow went up, and then it slowly went back down again.

  "Help me, you say?"

  "Nobody knows my mom better than me."

  "Nobody knew, you mean."

  "Cool, thanks for reminding me that she's dead."

  I turned and walked away. It was a bluff. I was irritated that he'd brought it up, but not enough that I was going to give up a chance at answers.

  Sure enough, my bullshit paid off. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned out.

  "Not here," he said.

  "Then where?"

  "Tonight at midnight," he said. "Meet me at your mom's place."

  "But it's burned down," I started to say, but he had already changed into his cat form. He meowed loudly, and then he ran away, bounding down the street. Just then, a car drove by, and I turned and kept walking, trying to ignore the growing dread in my stomach.