Game of Bones: A Cozy Witch Mystery (Magic Market Mysteries Book 3)

by Erin Johnson

  Bon snorted. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  Never thought I’d be grateful to see Bon, but as the small man threaded through the tables covered in flipped chairs, I had the odd urge to give him a hug.

  Taylor’s expression darkened, and he glowered at Bon. “This woman lured us here, then attacked us.” He jerked his head at the injured cop. Bon and the others took in the gash on his arm. Bon’s confidence seemed to falter for a moment, concern flashing through his eyes, but Daisy snarled and growled at Taylor.

  Liar!

  I grinned at the German shepherd. Again, not something I ever thought I’d feel, but I could’ve kissed her fuzzy little head.

  Taylor’s face grew bright red. His calm began to dissolve as he jerked his wand from Bon to me to Daisy. “You going to believe a bogus pet psychic and a dog over your chief? Show some respect, you pathetic excuse for a cop.”

  Bon drew himself up to his full (though minimal) height. The police cap helped a bit. “Before you suspended him, Officer Flint here—”

  “You keep this up, you’ll never get your job back, Flint,” Taylor shouted.

  Peter squared his shoulders and held his ground. Go, Peter!

  “He’s been reinstated, on my authority.” Bon sniffed.

  A vein bulged in Chief Taylor’s forehead.

  “As I was saying…” Bon huffed. “Flint looked into the records from the night of the airship crash. They’d been altered—on your authority—to make it look as if the airship Jacob Emerson crashed had been reported stolen hours before it actually was.”

  Bon smirked and folded his arms, then leaned against the nearest table. “You were covering up for Emerson Watts, who—” The upended chair he’d been leaning on shifted, and Bon lurched to the side. He caught himself against the table but knocked a couple of chairs off it at the same time. He righted himself, adjusted his tie, and scowled at the table.

  Peter interjected. “Luckily, I was able to pass on my findings to Russo here before I left the station.” He clapped the rookie on the shoulder.

  The younger guy grinned, in spite of his efforts to scowl at Chief Taylor.

  Taylor shot a death glare at all of the cops. “You’ll all lose your badges if you keep this up! Now stop acting like fools and arrest this woman!” Spit flew from his mouth and the whites showed all around his eyes. He was desperate.

  He jerked his head, and all eyes swiveled my way. My gaze met Peter’s, and my stomach lurched. We hadn’t talked in days, and he knew I’d been untruthful with him, and still he was willing to stand up to his chief for me… and, you know, justice, but for me, too.

  The rookie, Russo, held a manila file folder. “Officer Flint clued me in.” He glared at the two buzzcuts. “Since you two had me on desk duty, I figured I’d use all that paperwork to my advantage.” He faced Chief Taylor. “I got ahold of some records. Turns out you’ve been cooking the books for years to skim department funds for your own pocket.”

  Maybe it was just the blue light of the fish tank mixing with Chief Taylor’s flush, but he turned an alarming shade of deep purple. I smirked. Good.

  Bon lifted his dimpled chin. “Team, arrest Chief Taylor and these two yahoos.” He pressed his lips tight together and shot Taylor a hard look. “I have another team arresting Emerson and his son Jacob as we speak. You’re done for.”

  Russo beamed as he magically cuffed one of the two buzzcuts—the men who’d been hazing him—and Bon got the satisfaction of taking Chief Taylor’s wand while another cop bound his hands.

  Taylor gritted his teeth at Bon. “You’ll be sorry.”

  Bon sniffed. “I doubt it.”

  I blew out a shaky breath as Peter rushed up to me. He grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me over, then pulled me into a tight hug. I froze for a moment, then sank into it. It was taking me some time, but gradually, I was getting used to these Peter hugs.

  “How’d you know?”

  Peter rested his chin on top of my head and the rest of the world seemed to disappear. “Edna sensed something weird was up. She knew these two were no good, and I’d confided some of my suspicions to her about Davies’s death. She contacted me at home after you left with Taylor and told me what happened.”

  I nodded against him. I owed Edna a big thank-you.

  “I got in contact with Bon and Russo, and Edna roped in a few other officers she knew were good ones, willing to stick their necks out.”

  So there were other gems like Peter on the force? That was slightly reassuring, though after my experience I doubted I’d be a big fan of cops in general anytime soon.

  He gripped my shoulders and suddenly held me out at arm’s length. I blinked up at his concerned face.

  “Why didn’t you use your magic to send up a signal?” He glanced down at me, then around the room, and raised his voice. “Did anyone find Jolene’s wand?”

  Daisy trotted over to Peter’s side, her dark eyes fixed on me.

  I took advantage of Peter being distracted to give her a quiet “woof!” Hey, Daisy. Thanks for having my back.

  She growled. I have Peter’s back.

  I rolled my eyes, but grinned. Sure. Still… thanks.

  The very tip of her tail wagged just the tiniest amount. I grinned. I’d take it.

  Peter turned back to me, his brows pulled together and lips quirked to the side. “No one’s found it yet, sorry. Did one of those guys take it?”

  It took me a moment to remember we were talking about my wand. Which of course I didn’t have, because why bother when you didn’t have magic? I glanced down at the canine lie detector and carefully considered my next words so as to avoid lying.

  “I, uh, didn’t have my wand on me.”

  Doubt flashed across Peter’s face as he searched mine. “But… why? This has happened before, why wouldn’t you carry your wand?”

  I opened my mouth to say I forgot, but Daisy’s dark eyes bored into me. I licked my lips. “I, uh—didn’t think of bringing it.”

  Daisy whined. Truth.

  Whew.

  Peter bit his lip and looked down at his shiny black shoes, then glanced around the room. The other cops were busy escorting the buzzcuts and Chief Taylor and collecting evidence. Finding them distracted, he turned back to me. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Emerson? And… how do you know him?”

  I gritted my teeth and half turned away. What could I say? I scratched the back of my neck. “I, uh, knew him a long time ago. I didn’t think it was relevant.”

  Daisy growled. Lie.

  I shot her a look. Come on, dog. I looked up at Peter, pleading with him to not be upset with me. I couldn’t tell him the truth. He’d probably never speak to me again. Which, yeah, was pretty selfish of me. My stomach sunk.

  Peter looked pained. He shifted on his feet and crossed his arms. “Look, Jolene… I thought we had a good thing going, but how can this work if you won’t tell me the truth?”

  “I mostly tell you the truth.” I raised my brows, but Daisy growled, and I huffed at her.

  Peter pressed his lips tight together and looked away, his eyes glassy. I racked my brain for some way to make this right. Finally, he turned back to me. “Partners have to trust each other.”

  I bit my cheek to keep from crying, though my eyes stung. Stupid tears. “You can trust me, Peter.”

  He shook his head. “No. I meant, you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

  I felt like all the air had been knocked out of me. My legs nearly buckled. That Bruma Eve night when I’d been exposed as a shifter, Zale had said practically the exact same thing.

  Peter spun on his heel and without another word stalked off, his shoulders slumped.

  36

  ZALE

  Sometime between leaving the restored pirate ship and dragging myself back up to one of the tops tiers of the island, it’d started to rain. Which meant I was soaked and looked like something the tide washed up.

  I lifted my fist and pounded on the panele
d door again. I hugged close to it, trying to huddle under the ridiculously small overhang. I glared up at it and a raindrop pelted me right in the eye. Ow. Why even make a stone overhang if it wasn’t functional? I channeled my nerves into anger at the architecture.

  Footsteps sounded close to the door, and I hoped Zale still lived here. It’d been years, and he easily could’ve moved. If so, some poor sucker was about to be scared by a wet street rat of a lady showing up on their stoop in the middle of the night.

  I braced myself, and the door swung open. My stomach clenched. Zale stood there in a maroon robe and slippers, rubbing at his eyes.

  He froze when he recognized me. “Jolene?”

  He stepped slightly back as if to invite me in out of the rain, but seemed to catch himself and think better of it. He glanced behind him into the dark townhouse, where Eve probably slept, then spun to face me, fully taking up the doorway. “Jolene. What are you doing here?”

  I took a deep breath. Peter’s words had struck a nerve, and after running into Zale—twice—it felt like time to finally get some answers. I launched right into it, without any preface.

  “When you dumped me—”

  He flinched.

  “—you said it was because I’d lied to you. I need closure—I need to understand. Was that it?” I raised my brows as water trickled down my face from my hairline. “Was that the only reason? If I’d been truthful, could you really have accepted me for who—and what—I was?”

  I shivered, chilled despite it being summer. Goose bumps prickled my wet arms. Zale looked down at the welcome mat and frowned. His black hair stuck out at odd angles. I’d forgotten how much oil and magic he had to use to get it slicked back and polished-looking.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  I raised a brow. At least he was being honest.

  He looked up at me. “We can’t go back, so I can’t say for sure, but… yeah. You lied to me for years about who you were.” He pressed his lips together, his gaze far away. “And it wasn’t just the fact that it sucks to get lied to—it’s that you felt you had to be perfect, invincible. You made me feel like you didn’t need anyone else… including me.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to admit it, but we’d had problems before all that.”

  I frowned. “But you proposed that night.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I thought it’d make it better?”

  Anger flushed hot up my neck. “So I made you feel like I didn’t need you? Then why, when I clearly did need you, did you just leave?”

  His chest rose and fell. “You never really let me in, Jolene. I never knew the real you.”

  My stomach tightened. I didn’t want to admit it, but he might have a point. I’d been, and still was, so guarded. I mean, I had reasons to be, but still… that had to be hard to be around.

  He shook his head and in a quiet voice murmured, “I’m sorry.”

  I watched him hang his head and realized that as much as I wanted to blame him for everything, I’d had a hand in our breakup, too. “You know what?”

  He barely lifted his eyes, wincing.

  I lifted my chin. “I’m sorry, too.”

  He blinked at me, surprised. “I—appreciate that.”

  My throat tight, I gave him a curt nod. “Have a good life, Zale.”

  He watched me a long moment. “You too, Jolene.” He backed up and slowly closed the door, leaving me in the rain on his doorstep.

  I spun away and stalked down the wet street, my socks squishing in my boots. I’d have wiped away the few tears that tracked down my cheeks but what was the point? My face was soaked anyway.

  Maybe it was all the emotion of nearly being killed, or of my fight with Peter, or of confronting my ex—guess I could take my pick of traumatic experiences—but my whole body shook.

  I hugged my arms tight around myself and trudged through the pelting rain, through the dark winding streets of Bijou Mer. Signs and streetlamps glowed in the mist, and occasionally I saw another witch or wizard hurrying through the night, a magical bubble keeping them warm and dry. I actually preferred to be soaked and haggard—it matched my mood.

  I thought everything over as I meandered through upper-middle-class neighborhoods with their even cobblestones and well-lit curbs. The devastated, shocked part of me felt like lying on my couch and eating ice cream for the next week. But another part of me felt strangely at peace. I’d finally gotten some closure and some insight.

  I’d always felt like people liked me better back then, before the truth came out, when I’d seemed “perfect.” I’d assumed Zale and all my formers friends had dumped me because they’d finally seen my flaw—being a shifter. A flaw I couldn’t help, though I’d done my best to conceal it.

  I splashed through some puddles. But there were people who knew me now and accepted the real me. Heidi and Will were the only two who came to mind, but hey, that was two more than I’d ever had before. And if Heidi and Will could love me for who I was, maybe other people could too.

  Maybe… even though I was terrified… I should just tell Peter the truth.

  The mere thought of it sent a thrill of excitement and terror through me. I glanced up at the cloudy gray sky and the faint glow of the shrouded moon.

  If I didn’t change, the same thing that had happened between Zale and me would happen with Peter. I let the rain pelt my face. It was already happening, and would be the same with everyone I never let fully into my life. Urg. But it was so much easier to keep everyone at arm’s length.

  I turned and glanced up at the royal castle glowing through the mist on the top of the mountain a few tiers up. The police station sat beside it. I thought of Peter. I’d been so anxious about people finding out the truth about me, I’d been shutting him out—and worse, lying to him, just like his first partner had.

  I squared my shoulders. I’d been telling myself for years that my life as a lawyer had been so great and pining for it. I’d thought that I’d been free back then, to shift, to use magic, to have wealth and the life I’d always wanted.

  But back then, I wasn’t being real. I was slaving away for that snake Emerson and doing everything I could to hide my true self from everyone I knew. But I had the chance now to be freer than I’d ever been.

  My whole body buzzed as I gazed over the thatched and tiled rooftops toward the police station. I was going up there to find Peter and tell him the truth—the whole truth. I grimaced. This was going to be rough.

  37

  LAST DANCE

  I slunk back down my street, soaked, most of the food carts locked up for the night and steam rising from the sewer grates. I curled my lip as I passed one—was there a shifter walking below my feet right now? I shook off my heebie-jeebies and drug myself through the flooded street toward home.

  I’d gone up to the station only to find it in chaos after Chief Taylor’s arrest. I’d thanked Edna for saving my life (and promised to bring her her favorite Danish) then asked after Peter.

  She told me he’d gone home, and since I didn’t know where he lived and didn’t want to ask Edna for any more favors, I’d dragged myself all the way back down the mountain to the Darkmoon District.

  My legs ached, my feet were soaked and numb with cold, and I’d lost all the adrenaline that had first fueled me when I decided to tell Peter the truth. I just hoped I wouldn’t lose my nerve tomorrow.

  The light in a third-story window clicked off overhead, followed by the flashing neon sign across the street. Even most of the bars had emptied at this late hour, so when I spied a dark figure hovering in my doorway up ahead, I slowed my pace. I was in no mood for another visit from Neo or one of Ludolf’s other goons. I was edging to my right, toward a narrow alley, planning to take a back way to Will’s clinic and crash with him for the night, when I heard my name.

  “Jolene?”

  I froze. “Peter?” What was he doing in the rain outside my place?

  I tucked my soaked hair behind my ears, my fingers ice c
old as they brushed my cheek, and hurried forward. Peter stepped out of the shadows, the rain curving around the invisible magical bubble that kept him dry, and frowned at me.

  “You’re soaked.”

  I shrugged and grinned up at him, though my teeth chattered. I didn’t really care. Relief, and nerves (a weird mix) flooded over me.

  A line creased the space between his brows, but he waved me toward him. “Come here.”

  I stepped closer, close enough to wrap my arms around him, inside his magical protective bubble. Warmth radiated off him, and the rain stopped pelting the top of my head, though rivulets still trickled down my face. I reached up to wipe them away with the back of my soaked sleeve, but Peter used his own dry one. His touch was gentle and comforting—my shoulders relaxed a little.

  I craned my neck to look up at him. “Where’s Daisy?”

  He gave me small grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I gave her the night off.” His chest rose, then he pursed his lips and blew out a breath. “I—I didn’t like how we ended things.”

  I grinned. “Me, neither.” A thought suddenly occurred to me. “Hey—you want to come inside for a moment?”

  He glanced toward my metal door, covered in graffiti and peeling band posters, and hesitated. “Uh, is it okay if we talk out here?”

  I nodded. “Of course. Um…” I held up a finger. “Then just wait here for a moment.”

  He frowned, uncertain. “Okay.”

  I dug around in my jeans for my keys, turned the lock, and shot him a quick grin before jogging upstairs. I pushed through the beaded curtain, toed off my shoes, and peeled off my soaked clothes. I found a decent pair of jeans and a not-too-smelly shirt on the floor of my room and threw them on. I grabbed my Walkman off the couch and jogged back down.

  I stepped into Peter’s protective bubble again, drier and warmer. “Remember when you asked me to dance, at the policeman’s ball?”

  His expression softened. “Yeah?”