Hex at a House Party

by Gretchen Galway

  “Ah. You blocked the threshold, didn’t you?”

  I nodded sheepishly. After the exploding coffee can, I’d strengthened the boundary. “What did it say?”

  “I was asking permission to have another session with Birdie. I thought you might want any requests to go through you, under the circumstances.”

  “Are you up for that? Warren—”

  “Warren finally kicked me out,” she said. “He really doesn’t understand why everyone is still here. He thinks Darius is just some ambitious Flint trying to make Emerald in record time and is using Crystal’s death as an excuse to make a name for himself.”

  “He’s not all wrong,” I said. “Darius is ambitious.”

  “What’s the history between you two? Business or pleasure?”

  “Definitely no pleasure for him,” I said. “We worked together very briefly. Right before I left the Protectorate.”

  “Is he the reason you left?”

  I felt a truth spell wash over me. Apparently I wasn’t the only curious witch.

  “No,” I said, not bothering to use magic to ensure she believed me. It was true. He was there when the reason became known, but it would’ve happened with any partner or any assignment. Eventually.

  I always wondered… if the creature I’d been sent to kill had been obviously evil, for instance if I’d caught it in the act of skinning a baby, then would I have been able to kill? Did my Incurable Inability cover every situation or only those times when I wasn’t convinced of the evil of my target?

  “I wasn’t cut out for killing,” I said simply. “I had to leave.”

  “There are other jobs at the Protectorate,” she said. “Zoe, for instance, is a genealogist. She spends her days reading old documents, visiting cemeteries, traveling the world in Phil’s private jet, talking to people, writing books, going to parties. I’m sure she’s never killed anyone.”

  “You never know,” I said. “It’s a condition of employment.” At the Diamond Street office where I’d been stationed, every witch on the payroll, even the librarians, had been trained and armed to hunt, capture, and kill when necessary. It would be too dangerous to work for the Protectorate otherwise. And they’d have no use for you.

  Just as they’d had no use for me.

  “Well, she could kill a demon, of course, and who knows, given her age, she probably has,” Tierra continued. “But that’s different.”

  “Why is it different?”

  “Well… because… It’s self-defense. It’s only fair.” Tierra’s expression hardened. “And you have a duty to protect humanity. It would be wrong not to. That’s why witches exist.”

  That’s why the Protectorate said we existed. I wasn’t sure, but she seemed to believe it. Growing up with Malcolm had made me want to believe in the good guys too.

  I thought about Birdie, who’d grown up without magic or its philosophical implications. “You’re right about teaching her some of the fun stuff.” I turned and knocked on Birdie’s door. “I’ll tell her it’s cool with me.”

  Birdie, who had obviously been listening on the other side, pulled the door open and waved eagerly at Tierra. “I’m ready.”

  Tierra smiled at me, I smiled back, trying not to roll my eyes, and they disappeared inside.

  So, Darius was in the kitchen with Nathan. It could be a coincidence, or it could mean Darius was tracking demon sign. Nathan was the type—hotheaded, status conscious, restless—who might invite a malicious spirit inside for a little extra help, underestimating how permanent the invitation might be.

  But again I was relying on assumptions the Protectorate had taught me as a trainee agent. I’d never actually seen a possession take place from the beginning or personally talked to a human being who’d put out the welcome mat for a demon except for agents setting traps to kill them.

  If wisdom was knowing what you didn’t know, I didn’t want to settle for being wise.

  I went to my room and put on a gold bangle bracelet and a favorite beaded necklace. The bangle was a tight fit, hard to get on and off, and I seldom wore it.

  Gold gave me a monotonous, rigid power I didn’t usually like, but it was supposed to provide extra protection from demons. Other witches could control it much better than I could, doing delicate work with its clumsy nature, but I always felt uncomfortable with it, as if I was trying to draw with my left hand. But with an unknown, undetectable demon around, maybe it was a necessary risk.

  I found Darius and Nathan outside the kitchen on a flagstone patio, arguing next to a smoking barbecue grill. Darius held the tongs; Nathan held a plate of steaks.

  “You can’t stop me,” Nathan was saying. “I know my rights.”

  Glancing at me as I stepped outside, Darius flipped a hunk of meat on the grill. “A woman has died. You were planning on staying the week anyway. What’s the hurry?”

  “It kind of spoils the mood, you know? The hostess dropping dead? And now my girlfriend thinks she has to play nursemaid. Or worse.” Nathan sprinkled salt over the steaks. “And anyway, the old witch himself said he wants us to leave.”

  The gold bangle on my wrist was heavy, nagging for me to give it something to do. Was Nathan the demon? Did Darius think he was?

  “Hi,” I said, silently telling the gold to chill out. “Where’d you get the steaks?”

  “I had them delivered,” Nathan muttered, setting another one on the grill with his fingers. “I can’t survive on carbohydrates, and neither can anyone else.”

  Darius handed him the tongs. “Here. Alma and I are going to take a walk.” He glanced at my wrist where the gold bangle was getting hot, then back to Nathan. “Don’t go anywhere. Seriously.”

  Nathan grabbed the tongs and prodded his sizzling meat, shaking his head.

  Darius strode away from the house, shooting me meaningful looks over his shoulder. I was tempted to give the gold something to do and lift up an upcoming segment of the flagstone path, just enough to catch the left toe of his boot and shake his confidence a little.

  But I was a Bright witch who took no pleasure in the suffering of others.

  And I needed to get on Darius’s good side so he’d let me go on a short field trip.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I followed Darius up a path that led away from the ocean up the slope through the grassland. Phil and Zoe’s private cottage was up ahead, the garden and driveway to the left.

  Halfway to the cottage, Darius stopped and sat on a stone bench that had a perfect view of the ocean. “Can you see them now?”

  I began to shake my head, then remembered to take the stones out of my pocket and look around first. “No,” I said. “Still no fae.”

  He nodded. “Then it must be somebody here. All outsiders have left the property for the day. The police, the landscapers, the caterers.”

  “How about the cleaners?”

  “What cleaners?” he asked.

  “A woman and her daughter come by every day around eleven and tidy up the rooms.” Unless the paranoid occupant didn’t let them.

  Darius pulled out a glass disk and held it up to his eye, aiming at the driveway. “What do they drive?”

  I felt an unfamiliar spell waft through the air. “Green sedan. Older Camry, I think.”

  He squinted and stared, then dropped the disk. “They left an hour ago.”

  I studied the disk with interest. “Where’d you get that nifty toy?”

  “Santa put it in my stocking last Christmas,” he said, tucking it in his jacket pocket.

  “This Santa guy,” I said. “Is he big and bald and built like a wrestler?”

  His lips twitched. “That’s the one.”

  “What kind of time window can it see?” I asked. “It can’t be very long or you’d have wrapped up this mystery long ago.”

  He hesitated, obviously reluctant to spill his secrets. “Two hours at the most. And it won’t show living things, only… Why do you want to know?”

  “I want to know everything. I’m
a witch.”

  He thought about that for a moment. “It only sees metal.”

  “You can see the difference between a green Camry and a white catering van?”

  “Yes.”

  I was itching to see for myself. “Can I try it?”

  “You think I’m going to let Malcolm Bellrose’s daughter hold a rare and precious amulet?” He gave me a sad smile. “Sorry, Alma, but no way.”

  “I’m not the one who goes around the world stealing things,” I said.

  “I’ve seen the way your eyes light up when you see something valuable,” he said. “Like that walnut spoon on Warren’s kitchen counter.”

  I clenched my teeth. Demon’s balls. He’d always been too observant; nothing got past him. Another reason he was so good at his job. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I made sure it was still there when I left,” he said. “I saw the way you were drooling over it.”

  “I can make my own stupid spoons,” I muttered.

  “How far have you walked, looking for fairies? Do you know where the boundary is?”

  “You know, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said. “I want to, uh, leave. Only for a little while, I promise.”

  “I support your walking up and down the coast a few miles,” he said. “That should be far enough.”

  “I need to drive,” I said. “I have an errand to run. It’s not far.”

  “Too far to walk?”

  Silverpool was over three hours by car. My father could’ve managed to apparate a few miles, but even he would want modern transportation to cover the rest.

  “I’ll come back first thing in the morning,” I said.

  “The morning? It’s not even dark yet. Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I work for Raynor.”

  “When I talk to Raynor tonight, he’ll demand to know where you went.”

  “Just tell him I slipped away,” I said. “He knows I’m sneaky.”

  “And look like an idiot? No.”

  I sighed. “I need something in Silverpool. And I want to get Birdie out of here for her own safety.”

  “You were just going to take her out of my custody without asking permission?” he asked.

  “Custody? Come on. You don’t suspect Birdie of anything.”

  “It looks bad. You heard Nathan back there. How do I justify keeping everyone here if I make exceptions?”

  “You’re the Protectorate. Just put on the silver jacket and look grouchy.”

  Sighing, he dropped his face into his hands. “Nothing is going the way it was supposed to go. I’ve got a dead blackmailer, a grieving husband who hates me, other witches, including a famous billionaire, who don’t like me much either, demon sign, and you. This was supposed to be a financial crime I resolved quietly and permanently.”

  “I think the permanent aspect is true,” I said. “Was Crystal the only known criminal?”

  He nodded.

  “There you go. She’s dead. With a little more publicity than the Protectorate would like, but hey, nobody’s perfect.”

  Darius stood suddenly. “You have my permission to go to Silverpool,” he said. “You’re getting on my nerves, and I need a break.”

  I grinned and got up. “Great. I think I’ll be more useful when I get back. I can’t guarantee I won’t get on your nerves anyway.”

  “But you can’t take Birdie with you,” he said. “It undermines my authority. You go alone. I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

  “But—”

  He held up a forearm heavily adorned with silver and gold chains. A spiral tattoo snaking around his elbow glowed yellow, as if lit with electricity. A luminescent spell was embedded in the inked skin. “She stays,” he intoned.

  I took a step back, squinting to protect my vision from the blinding tattoo. After a moment, I concluded it wasn’t powerful, as I’d feared at first, just bright. He was only trying to intimidate me. “Fine.” I cupped my hand over my eyes. “But if anything happens to her, I’ll throw you into the ocean. And no trip to a spa later.”

  In spite of Darius’s restrictions, I went directly to Birdie’s room to tell her to pack her things. I’d be able to sneak her away without getting caught, or if Darius did catch me, convince him to let her leave. He was a rule-following man, but his heart was in the right place; he’d become an agent to protect innocent people just like Birdie.

  I went to my bedroom first and then through the connecting bathroom to Birdie’s door where I paused and listened for a moment—it was quiet, but I felt active magic swirling around—before knocking.

  “It’s me,” I said. “Can I come in?”

  Birdie’s voice came from the other side. “What kind of shampoo did you use the day before we came here?”

  I frowned. How would she know—? Oh. Busted. “I used yours,” I said. “I hope that’s OK. I ran out of mine and I kept meaning to get to the store.”

  She opened the door, a huge smile on her face. “I never would’ve known except it has a really distinctive scent, which is why I buy it, and I have a really sensitive nose. It’s actually kind of a pain because I smell all the bad stuff too.”

  Embarrassed I’d been caught stealing from my roommate, I looked past her into the empty room. “Tierra left already?”

  “Oh, she’s going to come back in an hour after she talks to Nathan. They’re having some problems.”

  “Listen, I’m sorry, but—”

  “Come on in and have some tea with me. There’s an electric kettle—”

  “No, there’s no time.” I was afraid of her reaction, so my words came out in a rush. “I’m— Birdie, we’re going back to Silverpool. Tonight. As soon as you’re packed.”

  “What?” Her smile fell. “No. Why?”

  I lowered my voice to a near whisper. “I need to talk to Seth. And Willy. And get a few things.”

  “But you’ll come back, right?”

  “Yes, but—” She wasn’t going to like this.

  “That’s OK then,” she said, brightening. “But why pack?”

  “I’ll come back,” I said. “You won’t. It’s not safe here.”

  I would never forgive myself if Birdie got hurt. She was more important than Seth, certainly more important than my curiosity.

  She frowned. “No.”

  I’d expected an emotional, pleading protest, not a flat, calm denial.

  “Yes,” I said. “There are dangerous forces here. Things you have no experience with. You won’t even recognize them if you see them.”

  “I’m not your responsibility.”

  “Of course you are,” I said, my voice rising. “I brought you here. I’m your friend and neighbor. You can’t trust Tierra—”

  “I do trust her.”

  “You can’t. She’s a witch who— Well, she’s probably been up to some things she shouldn’t have been. And you just met her.” It was something I needed to remember myself. Tierra seemed Bright, but she was still a stranger.

  “I’ve made up my mind. If you don’t respect my decision, I’ll… I’ll find out if my new spell is strong enough to keep you out of my room.” Frowning, she held up her hands, palms out; a faint, magical tension stretched between her fingers. Her eyes widened, and a pinpoint of light inside the pupils seemed to glow fire.

  “Whoa,” I said, stepping back into the bathroom. Her reaction shocked me. I knew she was enjoying herself, but this was crazy. Her floor was already getting sticky, clinging to my shoes. “Careful. You might hurt—”

  She jabbed her fingers toward me. “Ha! You said I couldn’t hurt myself.”

  “Me,” I said. “You might hurt me.”

  She blinked. Then smiled slowly. “Really?”

  “Really.” I hastily enacted a second barrier spell around my head, which was the closest, most vulnerable part of me. I was proud of her, but alarmed. “Please shut that off, will you?” A baby witch discovering spells was dange
rous enough; an adult woman might chop my nose off.

  “Will you let me stay?”

  I stared at her. She was horribly serious. I could take her by force, but then what would happen to our friendship later? She wasn’t a child; she was about the same age as I was. She’d never forgive me. After a moment, I nodded.

  She lowered her hands. The fire had gone out of her brown eyes, now looking as gentle as a therapy dog’s. The air between us eased, stilled. “Were you just saying that about me hurting you?”

  “No,” I said. “Were you just saying that about being willing to fight me so you could stay?” I didn’t want to be afraid of her temper. Trust needed to flow in both directions.

  “I-I don’t think so. No, of course not. But Alma, I’ve never wanted anything so much. Finding magic…” She slapped both hands over her heart. “I’ve never been so happy, at least not since my mom died. I know, ironic that it’s death and maybe murder and whatever, but there it is. If something happens to me, I’ll die with a smile on my face.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to you.” I said it with all my heart—and with my hand clamped around the oldest, biggest redwood bead on my necklace.

  Using the amulets on my body and the extra stash I had nearby in my room, I focused on Birdie’s warm brown eyes and asked for a peek at her futures. She had hundreds, thousands, millions of potential futures—we all did—but some might shine more brightly than others if they were more likely.

  Might. Prophecy was a hodgepodge magic, unreliable and prone to abuse. But… I cared about her. And, in spite of what she’d said, she was my responsibility.

  So I cast my thoughts forward, lowered my eyelids, and opened my inner sight.

  And was swiftly blinded and knocked onto my back.

  I lay there for a few moments, waiting for the throbbing in my head to ease. When I finally opened my eyes a few painful seconds later, I focused on the bathroom ceiling. It was painted green, like the walls, giving the room a soothing, Zen-like atmosphere.

  Nice. Nice, soothing green.

  “Alma? Are you all right?” Birdie’s face came into view. Hair hung down around her cheeks.

  “That was a mistake,” I mumbled. There were reasons you weren’t supposed to try to see the future, especially on an empty stomach. “I’m an idiot. You were just working on all your boundary spells, right?”