“For passion spells,” I say before she can ask. “Let’s go downstairs.”
We make our way around the jumbled sales counter to the door that leads to the basement workshop. Peering down into the dark, I say, “Maybe we should have brought a flashlight.”
Even as the words leave my mouth, Tawny reaches out to flick a switch, and I feel like an idiot. Blueish fluorescent lights glow from below.
The workshop looks just like it did before, minus Guthrie’s body. No one has bothered to even clean up the glass from the blue vial that was broken on the floor.
We look around. So much to see here, and I don’t know what any of it is, mostly. I hope Tawny doesn’t ask too many questions, because I seriously doubt that I can answer them without Mom’s help.
“Are we supposed to be down here? I mean, really? It looks dangerous.” Tawny is eyeing several small pouches and bottles on the workbench. She walks over, uncorks one, and sniffs it.
“Stop that!” I say, reaching for her. She pulls it away, grinning a little.
“What good is being in a magical place if you can’t sample the magic?” she says.
I hope she’s teasing, but I don’t think she is. “Guthrie could have been doing some bad stuff down here. I don’t know what you just inhaled - it might turn you into a frog or something.”
She giggles. “Ribbit.” Then she stops and thinks, before shrugging again. I know there’s a dirty joke in there somewhere,” she mutters.
I roll my eyes and bend down to look at the broken glass on the floor.
“Ooh, this one smells good,” she says behind me. I ignore her and pick up a piece of the shards. It’s thin and light, and my fingers look blue through the glass. It’s dry, thankfully - I don’t want my hand to end up like poor Guthrie’s face. Behind me, Tawny moves around the room, but something catches my eye and I duck-walk over to the leg of the workbench.
There is a shelf under here, running the full length of the bench and stacked with more supplies. I see a box of candles, regular ones like the kind Mom uses, and labeled bags of different spell ingredients - myrrh, hollyshock, thistle, even some coltsfoot, an ingredient that most witches don’t really use. That’s more of a black magic thing.
I shudder and scan the rest of the shelf.
Several mason jars line the back of the shelf, some empty and some with different colored liquids. A lot of the labels are old and yellowed, hard to read. At the far end, though, I strike pay dirt.
A stack of leather bound books sit on the end of the bench. Some of them are ancient-looking published references, but others - I take one to make sure - are grimoires. Guthrie’s sharp, faint handwriting fills the pages I flip through, along with drawings and diagrams. I feel drawn to the books, and my first urge is to sit down and start reading right there in the floor, but I know we don’t have time for that right now.
I glance over my shoulder to see Tawny step into the small anteroom behind the door, where I’d found Rain’s iPod. “I wonder why he didn’t just take us upstairs,” she said, talking almost to herself, “And made us use the tunnel instead.”
“Because then we all would have known you were here,” I answered her.
She turned toward me, her face half-hidden in shadows. “So?”
“So then we would have shut down this whole operation, and he would have been in a lot of trouble. This isn’t a good place for normal people.”
“Why not?” she asked, a bewildered look on her face.
I sigh. “Because witches. Werewolves. Vampires. The species tend to not mix well.”
“I think it’s cool. I’d mix well.”
I nod in agreement. “You would. But others wouldn’t.”
She looks genuinely confused. “Why not?”
“Salem, Massachusetts.”
She cocks her head and thinks about this. “Oh.”
“Exactly.”
“Was it hard?” she asks. “Living in the real world and pretending like there wasn’t anything weird about you?”
I start to shake my head, but then stop and think. Was it? If magic had been an accepted thing on the mainland, would I have grown up embracing my abilities instead of hiding them? “I don’t really know how to answer that,” I say honestly.
“I mean, the laws would probably be a nightmare to figure out,” she muses, tapping a finger on the doorway absently. “You guys would have advantages that the rest of us wouldn’t, so we’d have to make it fair somehow.”
“Maybe. I guess it depends on the situation.”
“Well, I mean, if you and I were competing to get into med school, you’d have a lot of advantages.”
“Not necessarily.” I shake my head. “Med school would require a lot of scientific basis, and I had to take general chemistry three times to get through that.” I grin, thinking of how much she’d teased me about that. “Remember?”
She laughs. “Oh, yeah. That was a fun year.”
I groan. “So really, just because I can do this or that, proving it would be a whole different matter. Just passing the entrance exam would be impossible, most likely.”
She shakes her head. “Why are we even talking about this?”
“Not sure.” I reach for the stack of books, figuring that if Angelo’s team had already been through the room and didn’t take these, they are fair game to borrow. Maybe I can find something helpful in there. Maybe I can find the spell I need to break my bond with Angelo.
I ignore the sadness that dampens my mood at the thought. Gathering all of the books, I stand up and shake any dust or cobwebs from my hair. Walking over to Tawny, I ask, “And this is the way you went home, too?”
“Yes, always.” She frowns. “I’m sorry that mice old man is dead, but I’m glad he showed us how to get here before he died.”
I smile. “I hated it when I first came here,” I confessed.
Her eyes go wide. “Why?”
I shrug. “It wasn’t home. I missed you and Clay...” I cringe. It’s been so long since I even thought about him...
“He’s married,” Tawny says. “To one of those Sigma girls you hated so much. I think he married her just to get back at you...you know, for ghosting him and going to Paris.”
I smile. She’s right - as far as Clay is concerned, I’m living it up in France, and who knows when I’ll ever come home. “I’m glad he’s happy,” I say.
She snorts. “I don’t think happy is the word - they fight. A lot. The kind of fight where the cops get called sometimes.”
“You’re kidding?” The Clay I remembered was very image-conscious. I couldn’t imagine him having public arguments like that.
“Nope. I saw it with my own eyes, at last year’s Christmas Party. They have this big fancy house up in Glen Meadows, full of antiques and stuff - and they throw it at each other and scream loud enough to disturb the neighbors. It’s hilarious.”
“Holy crap. Seriously?”
“Yep. I think he’s mad because she’s not you, and I think she’s mad because he’s not rich enough.”
Clay’s parents came from old money, so that didn’t make sense, unless they had cut him off. I knew that would hurt - Clay always did like having the best of everything.
“But enough about home,” Tawny said. “Are we done here? Because I want to know more about Jones.”
I groaned. “He’s bad news, my friend.”
“Will he eat me alive?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Probably not - he’ll just flirt you to death.”
“I’m not seeing a problem with that...” she answers.
“He’s a player. He’ll break your heart.”
“I’d have to give it to him, first,” she counters with a sniff.
“That’s...maybe out of your control,” I caution. “He’s very charming.”
She shrugs. “I’m willing to take the risk...did you see those eyes. So...smoldery.”
I grin, but thoughts of Jones leads me to Angelo, and whether he’s found any more clues t
o Rain’s whereabouts. “Come on, lover girl. Let’s get out of here.”
We leave the store just the way it was, except for the stack of books I’m clutching in my arms, and walk back through town. It’s getting to be late evening now, and more people are out. I see a few curious glances, but no one calls us out or asks why a normal is running around in Jagged Grove.
I’m surprised really. Supernaturals can tell if someone else is magical or not, and the fact that a normal is here could be cause for alarm. In fact, I’m pretty sure that if Tawny was out here alone, she would be stopped and questioned - another reason why Guthrie’s tunnel system was a good idea.
It makes me proud - the fact that she’s with me means that she can be trusted. Pretty good for a witch who didn’t even want to be a couple of years ago. A small jolt of happiness squeezes my heart.
Home.
I try to imagine Tawny living here, but give up after a few minutes. She wouldn’t fit in, and she very likely could get hurt, if she fell in with Wisp’s bunch, or another group equally as careless with their magic. That was a no-go.
Not that it’s ultimately up to me - I have no business making life decisions for others.
Angelo wouldn’t allow it, anyway, even if I asked him. Probably for the same reasons, too.
Tawny looks at the stack of books in my arms. “Do you want help with those?” she asks.
I shake my head, but her eyes are on one book in particular. She reaches out a finger and taps one of the leather grimoires. “I saw Guthrie making notes in that book, once. Right after he came to get us.”
I look down and make a note of which one she touched, then led the way home.
Chapter 15
We’re passing Killswallow Park when I hear shouting. Tawny and I both look up to see what looks like a scuffle, over near the main city offices. “What’s going on?” she asks.
I catch sight of Angelo, and then Glade. “Not sure. Let’s go see.”
We jog across the street - not easy with a load of books in your arms - and I realize that they’ve got someone in custody. A blond boy, who is fighting them with every ounce of his energy.
“Penley,” Tawny says under her breath. “It’s about time.”
“Do you think Carl is still waiting at the Colony?” I ask her. I’d almost forgotten about him.
“Who cares? Let him wait.”
I glance over to see if she’s joking, but she’s not.
Angelo puts Penley in handcuffs just as we step up onto the sidewalk. He looks at me, but Penley chooses that moment to lurch sideways, trying to escape. Glade steps in to help, and together they get him through the double glass doors and inside. Tawny and I follow, making sure to stay out of the way.
The city office building houses the Council offices, the mayor’s office, and a couple of holding cells, among other things. It reminds me very much of a bank, with vast marble surfaces broken up by the occasional potted plant and the small grouping of furniture under one of the many windows in the corner. I shudder remembering the last time I was here - they were trying to send me away.
Angelo and Glade have one of Penley’s arms each, and he’s stopped fighting them for the moment. As we trail along behind, I hear him say, “Guthrie did this to himself, you know. He was too greedy.”
I glance at Tawny. From what she told me, greediness is more Penley’s thing than Guthrie’s. She shrugs and keeps going.
Penley is shorter than Angelo by a good three or four inches, and an inch taller than Glade. As hard as he tries to struggle with them, he has to know he doesn’t have a chance of getting free. Besides, where would he go?
That thought stops me. Would he go to Rain? If he somehow got free, is it possible that he would lead us right to Rain, or would he be thinking too carefully for that?
I speed up a little, thinking to ask Angelo those questions, but at that moment Penley gets lucky and lands an elbow in Glade’s jaw. Glade falters, but doesn’t let go of his hold. His grip loosens, though, and that gives Penley enough hope that he jerks back and breaks Angelo’s grasp on him.
It also brings him closer to us - although I’m not sure he even knows we’re back here. That works out to our advantage, too, because when he spins around to run I’m so surprised that I drop the load of books - right on his left foot.
I screech.
Penley howls.
Angelo grabs him again, gets a tighter grip on his arm and the collar of his shirt, and throws me an exasperated look.
I smile as meekly as I can and bend to pick up the stack.
It’s strewn everywhere, but one book has fallen open to a small bunch of herbs nestled between the pages. They aren’t a species I recognize, but that doesn’t mean much. At least, not until Tawny says, “Oh, hey - that’s the stuff we had to drink to get here.”
All of us freeze. Angelo, Glade, and even Penley look at the open book. I look at Tawny. “They made you eat something?” I ask, not sure I heard her correctly.
“Well, no.” She looks alarmed that we’re suddenly all staring at her. “They didn’t make us...but if we wanted to come here, we had to. Something about the effect on our frontal cortex.”
I blink. Angelo groans. Penley looks like he wants to run again.
“Seriously?” Angelo asks Penley. “You’re trotting out this pseudoscience crap again?”
I look from him to Penley and back again. Angelo explains, “Guthrie got all the kids hyped up a few years ago about the effects of carnation on the brain.”
“Carnation - the flower? What are the effects of carnation on the brain?”
“Apparent stupidity, if you believe that kind of crap. He was just selling them cheap flowers.”
“So it’s...what?” Tawny interjects. “Like fake weed?”
“Exactly. Or diet pills. Or the newest anti-aging formula. Or a hundred other things designed to extract your money from your pocket.”
Tawny’s face is pale, making her freckles stand out more. As I watch, she narrows her eyes and walks to Penley, then kicks him in the kneecap. He barks once and drops. Only Angelo’s grip keeps him from falling.
“You jerk,” Tawny snarls, but by then Glade is between them. He puts a hand on her shoulder and guides her back. She resists him for a second, then turns away. “He’s been stealing from Carl all this time,” she said to me.
I don’t know what to say, so I simply finish picking up the books.
When I’m finished, I stand up and walk over to Penley, who is looking more and more unhinged by the second. His eyes are wide and twitching, never settling on anything for more than a second.
“Where is Rain?” I ask him.
He looks away.
“Where is Rain?” I ask again, fighting the urge to drop books on his other foot.
“If she wanted you to know, she’d tell you,” he answers finally.
“Unless she can’t.”
He smirks. “She can, she’s just enjoying what she’s been denied all these years. I’ve shown her the world, and she loves it.”
I was afraid of that. I get her curiosity, and her adventurous nature - I’m just worried about her safety. “So she’s on the mainland - is someone with her, at least?”
He won’t answer me, and I’ve never wished so hard to see Angelo beat somebody up.
I turn to Angelo. “I need to find her.”
“We’ll find her. As soon as we get some answers, I’m sending Glade for her,” he assures me.
I look at him and fight the growing urge to beg. Rain could be anywhere - safe or not, she’s probably lost and maybe even scared. I’m not sure what to do now.
Angelo seems to be able to read my mind. “Give me time. We’ll find her,” he offers. “Promise.”
I smile shakily. I know that he means it. I know that he’ll do his best. But I feel like I need to do something, too. I turn to Tawny. “Let’s go.”
My house feels incredibly silent, as if it’s mad at me for not being involved in the case. I put the bo
oks down on the coffee table and open the one with the carnation leaves. “This stuff is what Guthrie was selling to Carl?” I ask.
She nods. “I’m positive.” Then she grins. “He’ll be really mad when he finds out how much money he lost buying flowers.”
I move the leaves aside and scan the page underneath. It’s a spell to give any vegetation the temporary effect of euphoria.
I read it again, but that’s all. A few simple ingredients - like lavender oil - and an unpretentious ritual and that’s it. A money-making trick, apparently lasting just long enough to pull off the scam.
“Geez, Guthrie really was an ass,” I mumble.
“Carl spent a lot of money with him,” Tawny answered. “A lot. Thousands.”
I look up. “And I bet Penley saw that and wanted the pie for himself.”
Tawny frowns. “So...people here are just like people back home?” she asks.
“Afraid so. We might be supernaturals, but we’re still people, warts and all.”
“That’s depressing.”
I had to agree. “Tawny, you said you had to eat this stuff in order to make the trip from the mainland. Can you tell me more about that?”
“Sure.” She shrugs. “We placed a leaf on our tongue. It was a little bit bitter. Then Guthrie had Penley blindfold us and lead us...uh, somewhere. That was when I started to feel a little bit weird.”
“Weird how?”
She thinks about that for a moment. “You know how you feel right before you get the flu? Your skin gets all tender, and everything feels achy?”
I nod.
“Like that. The first time, I really thought it was the flu, but then it went away.”
“So if getting here was that uncomfortable, and you hated being confined to the mansion, why did you keep coming?” I asked her.
“I told you - I kept hoping we would eventually get to explore. I mean, it wasn’t costing me anything to come, so I just thought why not, you know?”
I don’t answer her. I’m too busy trying to decide my next move.
My mind worked through the sequence - put the stuff on your tongue, close your eyes, and then...what? We needed to go back to the room where I found Rain’s iPod.
Addicted Witch: A Jagged Grove Mystery Page 11