by Lily Webb
The book, the shard of glass, the Black Brotherhood, Phoebe, and the murders were all connected in some way — I just didn’t know how.
“I wish I’d said or done something, maybe I could’ve stopped this,” Aurelia said, her eyes watering. “We ended on bad terms, but I never wanted anything to happen to Seth. Never.”
“It’s not your fault, Aurelia,” I said. “You couldn’t have known.”
Someone killed Delia and Seth, but it wasn’t her — though I couldn’t yet say the same for Aidan and Callum, who were next on my list.
“Thanks for your time. I won’t bother you again,” I said.
“Now that would be a true miracle,” Aurelia said, smirking. “Be careful around the warlocks, Zoe. You can’t trust any of them. These days, we witches have to stick together.”
“Somehow, I doubt you’d ever willingly be my ally,” I said.
“Probably not, but it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?” Aurelia asked. “See you back at school whenever it re-opens.”
“See you,” I said, and left Zaria’s determined to find Seth’s best friends.
Chapter Fourteen
After sundown, I walked to The Magic Touch, not at all sure where to find Aidan and Callum — or if they would open up to me once I did.
Talking to a reporter probably wasn't first on the list of things they wanted to do after losing their best friend, and I wouldn't have blamed them if they thought I was up to no good, but I really was just trying to get to the truth. Wasn't that my job?
Aurelia didn't give me many details about the apartment Aidan and Callum allegedly shared, so I walked past The Magic Touch and just kept my eyes open for anything unusual.
I didn't have to look for long. Just as Aurelia described, three doors down from The Magic Touch, I found Aidan and Callum sitting on the front porch of a horribly maintained hovel of a brick duplex.
The windows were glazed over with grime, the door hung crookedly from its hinges, and the porch itself seemed like it could sink into the earth at any given moment.
In other words, it looked every bit like the kind of place two guys in their early twenties would share — and I shuddered at the thought of what it might look like inside.
Aidan and Callum both held their wands in one hand while they played a magical game that looked like a variation on chess.
As I approached, Aidan flicked his wand and one of the pieces, a knight on horseback with a sword drawn, galloped on its own across the board to lop off the head of one of Callum’s poor foot soldiers.
Apparently, it wasn't what Callum wanted to happen, because he cursed under his breath and slammed his fist on the table.
"I'm telling you, dude, you need to work on your strategy," Aidan said, relaxing back in his chair and smirking at Callum.
Callum glared at him and jerked his wand through the air, which sent Aidan's knight soaring off the board and across the porch. It clattered against the brick wall that separated their half of the duplex from the other and burst into pieces.
"How's that for strategy?" Callum asked, grinning at Aidan. "You can't win a game if you don't have any pieces left."
"Nice try. Don't be a sore loser," Aidan said as he whirled in his seat and waved his wand. The pieces of the knight rearranged themselves into one and flew into his hand. Aidan slammed it on the rickety plastic table and nearly knocked the whole board off in the process.
"Hey, boys. What are you playing?" I asked, making both of them jump like they’d heard a voice from beyond. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
"Knights of Night, not that it's any of your business, broom chaser," Aidan snapped, his upper lip curled. I didn't know exactly what a broom chaser was, but I could guess it wasn't a compliment.
"Relax, I'm not here to cause any trouble," I said, though neither of them looked like they believed it.
Again, I couldn't blame them. The only time journalists came knocking was when they wanted something, and rarely out of the goodness of their hearts — though I definitely cared about finding the truth about Seth and Delia both.
"Right, just like you weren't trying to cause any trouble the last time you came around,” Callum said. "Our best friend is dead, and now I suppose you want to talk to us about it? Is this going to be your next big story?"
"No, probably not. I know you might find it hard to believe, but I'm really not looking for anything to benefit myself," I said. "I just want to know what happened. I think the murders of Seth and Delia are connected and I'm trying to figure out how."
"Why should we believe you?” Aidan asked.
Good question, but I was quick on my feet.
"Because I'm all you've got, frankly," I said. Aidan scoffed and waved at me like it was time for me to go before we even got started, but I wasn't going to give up that easily.
For all I knew, the two of them might've seen something blockbuster that could point me in the right direction — or they might be connected to the murders themselves.
"Laugh all you want, but it's true. The cops probably aren't even onto this yet, and they don't have the connections I do. You both know I put the King of the vampires behind bars, right?" I asked. Neither of them answered.
"Besides, if you're really interested in finding out what happened to your friend, why wouldn't you want to use every resource at your disposal?" I asked.
"First, because you're a witch. Second, because you're a reporter. Third, because we don't know you better than any other random person in Moon Grove," Aidan said.
"Fair enough," I said, shrugging. "But I guess the only way to get around all those problems is to give me a chance to prove you wrong, isn't it?”
"That's easy for you to say, you don't have anything on the line," Callum said.
"I don't know about that," I said. "But fine, I said it before, and I'll repeat it: I'm not here to cause any trouble. I just want to hear what you two know about Seth’s murder.”
Aidan and Callum exchanged concerned looks, no doubt wishing they had the ability to communicate with each other psychically. Amazingly enough, it was Aidan who caved first.
“Fine,” Aidan said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking me over with a smirk. “But you tell us what you know first.”
It wasn't exactly how I wanted to play my hand, but it was a start.
“All right. It isn't much, but I know Seth was taken away dead from The Magic Touch last night. I saw him carried out on a stretcher myself,” I said.
“That's it?” Callum asked, incredulous. “So much for being a hero journalist, huh, Aidan?”
Aidan laughed and nodded.
“Why do you think I'm here?” I asked, losing my patience. “Your turn.”
Aidan gestured to Callum to talk. Callum leaned forward in his chair, sighed, and shook his head.
“Honestly, we don't know much either,” he said. “We were all hanging out drinking and playing Pilliards last night at The Magic Touch, as usual, but Seth seemed off.”
“How?” I asked.
“I dunno, just stewing about something,” Callum said with a shrug.
“Did he drop any hints about what might've upset him?”
“Nothing, which was the weird part,” Aidan answered for Callum, who seemed relieved to be out of the hot seat.
“Why's that weird?”
“As much as Seth tries to pretend he's unshakable, he's an open book most of the time,” Aidan said. “I can usually read him, but last night was different. I asked what was up, but he bit my head off and told me to mind my own business.”
“Sounds like that’s becoming a pattern with him,” I said, thinking of what Aurelia told me about Seth’s temper toward her.
“It isn't. The three of us tell each other everything, but Seth wasn't having it when I asked.”
“Any guesses as to what he might've been trying to hide?” I asked.
“No clue, honestly,” Aidan said.
“So how’d the rest of the night go?”
&n
bsp; “Pretty normal, other than that,” Aidan said. “Seth hung back, drank, and kept to himself while Callum and I played.”
“Until…?”
Aidan sighed.
“Until Seth said he needed to go out and get some fresh air,” Aidan said. “He said it was too stuffy in the pub.”
“How long was he gone?”
Moments that felt like hours passed while both of them remained silent.
“Too long,” Callum finally said, and my heart dropped into my stomach.
“We didn't notice anything was wrong until about an hour after he left,” Aidan said.
That seemed fishy to me — for three guys who were allegedly best friends, why wouldn't they think to ask where their friend had gone sooner? Wouldn't they have noticed?
"What did you do when you realized he'd been gone for too long?"
"We went looking for him, obviously. I thought maybe he was in the bathroom, but he wasn't there, so I went outside and didn't see any trace of him. I tried to send a message, and I called him several times, but he never answered," Aidan said.
"I was the one who found him," Callum said, and my throat tightened.
"Where?"
"In the alley behind the pub,” Callum said, refusing to look me in the eye.
"I'm so sorry," I said.
I meant it. I couldn't imagine what it must be like to find a best friend dead in an alley behind a bar. It stunned me that the two of them could sit and play games the following day like nothing was wrong, but maybe that was their only way of coping.
"What happened to him?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.
"We have no idea, that's the scariest part," Aidan said. "It was so weird. He was lying in the gutter face up, pale as the moon, and he looked like he’d had every ounce of blood drained from him."
My spine erupted in goosebumps, and I rubbed my arms to make them go away.
“I’m sorry, but since you two were the last to see him alive, I have to ask: was Seth angry with either or both of you last night?” I asked.
"We didn't kill our best friend, if that's what you're trying to ask," Aidan said, scowling.
I wanted to believe him, but it still sounded a bit strange to me. How could two people who seemed to worship Seth fail to notice he'd gone missing, and how had he ended up bloodless in an alley?
“I didn't think so, but I had to ask,” I said. They seemed awfully defensive.
“You didn't hear or see anything? You just found him like that?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Callum said.
“Nada,” Aidan agreed.
“What do you think might've happened?” I asked.
“Hard to say. At first, we swore he'd been attacked by a rogue vampire, but the Healers told us today they didn't find a single bite wound on his body,” Aidan said.
Of course, they'd think it was vampires — was there anything that wasn't the vamps’ fault in their eyes? — though an absence of bite marks on Seth’s body firmly ruled them out.
But if it wasn't vampires, who or what would've wanted to drain Seth’s blood… And how?
“What about Delia Frost? I know firsthand Seth wasn't fond of her,” I said.
“He wasn't, but he didn't have anything to do with her death,” Aidan said.
“Clearly not,” I sighed. “I've heard he was in a warlocks-only group started by Professor Grimm. Do either of you know anything about that?”
Callum cleared his throat, and Aidan glared at him.
“Yeah, we’re in it too,” Aidan said. “But I can promise you it's nothing like what you've probably heard. It isn't some illegal black magic cult.”
“Then what is it?”
“A brotherhood,” Callum said. Aidan’s expression turned sour like Callum had said something out of line, and I felt like I'd been doused with frigid water.
“What kind of brotherhood?” I asked.
“The kind that supports warlocks and tells them it's okay to be who they are,” Aidan said, apparently afraid to let Callum speak again.
“Why would warlocks need to be told that?”
“Because we're at the bottom of the magical totem pole, in case you hadn't noticed,” Aidan spat.
“How so?”
“Seriously? Look around. Witches rule this town, they always have, and we warlocks have been shoved aside while the witches conspire with murderous vampires in our own government to push us further down the ladder,” Aidan said.
Well, alrighty then. It was clearly a sore subject.
“So was this brotherhood some sort of political thing then?”
“Yes and no. We have no real power, but we're trying to get it,” Aidan said.
“By doing what, exactly?” I asked.
“Standing up for ourselves and letting the witches know we're done being pushed around,” Aidan said.
“Would that include killing a prominent and beloved vampire-witch to make a point?” I asked, and all the color drained from Aidan’s face.
“No. None of us liked Delia, no denying that, but we’d never hurt her or anyone else. Besides, all three of us were flying on borrowed brooms when it came to our grades. We didn't need another reason to be looked at sideways,” Aidan said.
I wasn't entirely sold.
“Professor Grimm reached out to all of us when he decided to make it, but it never got far. Delia didn't like the idea of a warlocks-only group — she thought it was discriminatory, how rich — so she cooked up a ridiculous lie that Professor Grimm was teaching us illegal magic to smear him and ruin the group at the same time,” Aidan said.
“Why would she want to smear him?”
“Because he's an amazing spellcaster. She couldn't stand anyone being better than her at anything, especially not a warlock. Plus, she wanted his job,” Aidan said.
He wasn't the first person to tell me that. A potential rivalry with Delia gave Nolan all the more reason to want to attack her, but it didn't explain why he might've gone after Seth too.
Then again, if Nolan was really as amazing a warlock as Aidan seemed to think he was, there was no telling what sort of magic Nolan could have access to — and I couldn't ignore Delia and Raina’s claims that he'd taught students illegal magic, regardless of Aidan’s insistence otherwise.
Maybe Nolan didn't kill Delia or Seth, but the allegations against him from two prominent colleagues of his definitely didn't help his case.
“What's the name of your group?” I asked.
“It doesn't have a name,” Aidan said, but I didn't need to peek into his thoughts to know he was lying — the way his eyes shifted left to right told me everything.
Even before I knew I could read people’s minds, I'd developed a pretty strong BS detector — a mandatory skill for a journalist — and Aidan tripped it in every way.
“I've heard Professor Grimm gave special books to his favorite members, including Seth. Do you know anything about that?” I asked.
“There's nothing special about them,” Aidan said. “They're just journals.”
“Do you have one too?”
“No,” Aidan said, looking down at his feet.
“Then how do you know there's nothing special about them?”
“I guess I don't,” Aidan said with a shrug. He was jealous Professor Grimm gave one to Seth and not him, I saw it in his body language.
“What do you have to do to get one?”
“Prove yourself,” Aidan said.
“How?”
“Passing various tests,” Aidan said.
“Such as?”
“You never stop asking questions, do you?” Aidan asked. His avoidance spoke volumes.
“I'm paid to do that,” I said, smiling. “Answer the question.”
“It could be any number of things. Sometimes it's reciting passages, sometimes it's completing tasks, sometimes it's casting advanced spells,” Aidan said. My ears perked up at that.
“Magic so advanced it's illegal?” I asked. Aidan rolled his
eyes.
“No, I told you, that's not true. Nothing Professor Grimm taught us was illegal, the witches just couldn't stand that we had something of our own,” Aidan said.
I doubted that was the only reason. Maybe we were operating on different definitions of the word “illegal” — what some called illegal, others called a grey area.
“I take it Seth passed all these tests?” I asked.
“Not all, but way more than we ever did. I think that's part of why he loved Professor Grimm and the group so much. He was awful in school, but he found his place with the brotherhood,” Aidan said.
“I thought you said it didn't have a name?” I asked. Aidan’s face flushed.
“It doesn't. That's just what we called it around each other,” Aidan said.
Ding ding ding — BS detector tripped! — but I decided to let it slide. Aidan would never tell me the name, and I already knew it anyway. I didn't need it confirmed.
“Seth was Professor Grimm’s favorite student, wasn't he?” I asked, and Aidan nodded.
“And that drove you crazy, didn't it?”
Aidan looked me square in the eye, his mouth a thin line.
“I'm only going to say this one more time: I didn't kill my best friend,” Aidan said.
This time he wasn't lying. His expression never changed, and no nervous ticks gave him away.
“Then who did?”
“I have no idea,” Aidan sighed. “That's the worst part.”
I couldn’t forget that Seth himself might've been responsible. When I asked Raina about the alleged dark magic practices Nolan was teaching his students, she'd said it was the kind of magic that could gravely injure the target — and the caster.
Could Seth have been a victim of a spell gone wrong? If so, who was he trying to cast it on, and why? Could whatever he was upset about have been the motivation? And what if his and Delia’s deaths weren't connected after all?
Every time I got one question answered, a dozen more sprung up to replace it — and it increasingly seemed like the only one who could answer them all was the ring leader himself, Nolan Grimm.