Witch in Danger

by Elle Adams

  “That’s not necessary—” I got to my feet and was more or less frog-marched from the pub and down the road. The last I saw of Nathan, he was detaching himself from the pack of witches before they hurried me back home.

  At least none of them followed me into the house when we finally reached it. I unlocked the front door and paused in the darkened hallway, releasing a heavy sigh. Then I took a step forward—

  “MIAOW.”

  I very nearly jumped out of my skin. Fumbling for the light switch, I found I’d almost trodden on Sky sitting in the dark outside the flat door.

  “What is wrong with you?” I whispered to Sky. “If you want to reprimand me for walking outside with a murderer on the loose, scaring me to death isn’t going to help anyone.”

  “Miaow.” He pawed at my leg. Beneath his other paw lay a piece of muddied paper.

  I knelt down and picked it up. “Another treasure map?” Then I saw the writing on the page.

  It was the same as the handwriting on the note I’d received inviting me to go under the waterfall.

  “They need a fairy next,” I read aloud.

  That was it. No other words. No clues.

  Sky butted into my leg. I got the message and unlocked the flat door.

  “I know you’re a fairy cat,” I muttered to him. “Is that what this is about?”

  “Blair?” Alissa stared at me from the sofa as I walked in. “You’re not with Nathan. Did it go wrong?”

  “You might say that.” I let the door swing closed behind me. “We were surrounded by people for our entire date. It was a disaster. A dozen witches cleared out the pub and escorted me home when Nathan got a message telling him to come and look at another dead elf in the forest.”

  She winced. “Sorry about that. What’s that paper? Did Sky decide to rope you into something again?”

  I handed her the page, and she read it with a furrowed brow. “Who’s ‘they’?”

  “The killer,” I whispered. “I’m sure it is. The killer… they need me.”

  She lowered the page. “It doesn’t say you.”

  “They’re targeting different paranormals,” I said. “That’s what this is about. A vampire died, a werewolf died… and an elf, I guess, but the method wasn’t the same. I don’t understand why they ‘need’ a fairy. To do what with? What could anyone possibly gain from killing me?”

  “This note might mean anything,” she said. “It might be a fake. I hope it is.”

  “Why would someone need a fairy specifically?” I asked. “Especially if their last victims were a vampire and a werewolf?”

  “I…” Alissa trailed off. “I can think of one reason, but it’s… it’s very dark magic. I saw my grandmother had a book out—a reference book on the subject. Maybe she thinks the same.” She pulled out her phone and dialled. “She’s left her voicemail turned off.”

  Think, Blair. They need a fairy… Considering the flowers, walking everywhere with an escort might not save me, and I wasn’t about to wait for the killer to show up at the door. “The killer. Nobody actually saw them, right? No witnesses.”

  “Of course not,” said Alissa. “But you said yourself, there might be more than one person working together. The police have only arrested Keith so far…”

  “Keith was attacked in the woods,” I said. “He doesn’t remember the attacker, right? Is there a spell to jog his memory? They’re bound to let him out for questioning soon. If he remembers who bit him, it might point to our rogue vampire.” Why a rogue vampire might need to kill a fairy was a mystery, too, but it was the only tenuous possible link between the various attacks we had.

  “There is a memory potion that might work,” she said, hesitantly. “But the police wouldn’t let me give him a strange potion before the interrogation, assuming there’ll actually be one. And neither of us would be able to get into the jail even if we weren’t tailed by bodyguards everywhere.”

  “Miaow,” said Sky.

  I looked at him, then back at Alissa. “You know he got into the flat when the door and windows were locked?”

  Her brow crinkled. “He did?”

  “He sneaks out all the time,” I said. “I think it’s a fairy cat thing, the ability to get into places nobody else can. Can you get into the jail?”

  Both of us looked at Sky. He licked a paw, giving away nothing.

  “Come on, I know you understand me.” I crouched down beside him. “The jail. The vampire in jail… Alissa, do you have a picture of him?”

  She held up her phone. The photo of her and Keith had been taken at the coffee shop, by the looks of things.

  “Miaow,” said Sky.

  “This is him,” I said, pointing to the picture. “He’s in jail.” I mimed bars. Alissa burst out laughing. “Great to have your cooperation.”

  “Never go into theatre, Blair,” Alissa said.

  I gave her an eye-roll, then turned back to Sky. “Can you get into the jail?” The window had been closed, the house under watch, when he’d sneaked in the last time. Fairy cat or not, he definitely had his own kind of magic.

  Sky miaowed again. Then dipped his head in acknowledgement. Gotcha.

  “Right,” I said to him. “Wait there. Alissa’s going to whip up a potion to take to him. I hope he knows what he’s doing,” I added to her quietly.

  “Me too,” said Alissa. “Do they have their prisoners under close watch?”

  “That place was so dark, I couldn’t tell.” I shuddered at the memory. “There aren’t guards outside every cell. I doubt they’d be looking for a cat, especially a magical one who can hide himself.”

  “If you say so.” She moved to the kitchen and began rifling through the cupboards for potion ingredients. “This is a last resort, isn’t it?”

  “Pretty much.” Until then, there was nothing to do but wait.

  A cat couldn’t get arrested, right? Don’t answer that one, universe.

  14

  The cat did not get arrested. He came back the following morning and woke me with a prod of a claw and a ‘Miaow’.

  “What does that mean?” I asked thickly, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The few minutes of rest I’d managed to snatch had been plagued by dreams of being a pixie caught in a net. Thanks for that one, subconscious. Yawning, I scrambled out of bed and went in search of Alissa.

  “I think he got into the jail,” she said, peeking her head out of her bedroom. “Mission successful.”

  Sky miaowed and head-butted my leg. I assumed that meant the potion had been deployed as planned.

  So now all we needed to do was get in on the vampire’s interview, while avoiding World War Paranormal. With no answers from Madame Grey, we were out of options, short of hoping the potion would trigger the vampire’s memories of the attack.

  Alissa shook her head at her phone. “She won’t answer. Stony Face outside our house won’t tell me if she’s at the police station or not, either.”

  I glanced at the gargoyle standing guard outside our window and picked up my own phone. I’d texted Nathan but received no reply, so he was presumably still tied up with the latest elf murder.

  My hand faltered. If I had to tell Madame Grey that I was the target, the truth about what I was would come out no matter what, and he’d rather hear it from me than through someone else.

  I chewed on my nails as I one-handedly typed a message, then deleted it. Then I typed another one.

  “What’re you doing?” Alissa asked.

  “Nathan,” I said. “The note was no joke. They need a fairy. He’s going to find out. I think he’d rather I told him myself. Even if it… if it means he doesn’t want to see me again.”

  There was far more than my love life at risk this time around.

  “Isn’t he keeping his own secrets?” she asked. “That vampire.”

  “Don’t even.” I shook my head. “I have zero clues why Lord Anderson is suddenly innocent, if not an accomplice. Of course, it might be misdirection. The killer might have a vampire acco
mplice he’s sending to bite the victims to confuse us. The poison would have been enough on its own, unless the vampire perpetrator got thirsty in the middle of the mission. But I don’t believe Nathan would blindly trust a murderer.”

  The corners of her mouth turned down. “Misdirection? The vampire who died wasn’t bitten. I don’t think. And I’m starting to remember Madame Grey’s notes on paranormal murders. There was a similar case… a few years ago now. Forbidden magic sometimes requires the blood of a vampire, a witch, and others.”

  “But what is this forbidden magic?”

  I jumped when my phone buzzed with a message from Nathan, telling me that Madame Grey was indeed at the jail, and Keith had requested to speak to her about the day he’d been bitten. He must have remembered. Which meant the potion had worked. Thank you, Sky.

  “Has he told you to stop freaking out and it’s fine?” said Alissa.

  “Nope,” I said. “He said the police are letting Madame Grey come and talk to Keith, since he remembers what happened. The potion worked.”

  “So you didn’t tell him?”

  I shook my head. “I feel like a coward doing this via text, but he’ll probably find out from Madame Grey before the day’s end anyway.”

  “Do it,’ she said. “Go on. It’ll be easier once it’s done.”

  “Isn’t that the point?”

  I glanced down at my phone’s screen. Hi, Nathan. I don’t know how else to tell you this, but I’m not fully human. I’m half fairy.

  I have no excuse for not telling you, but my cat brought in a note last night telling me the villain needs a fairy for the next part of his plan, and I’m the target.

  Sorry, Blair.

  Alissa leaned over my shoulder and hit send. I yelped and dropped my phone. Sparks shot from my left hand.

  Her eyes widened. “Did you hand just…?”

  “Not the first time it’s happened.” I slowly sank to the floor with my hands over my face. “There it is. I took the coward’s way out to avoid a face-to-face confrontation in front of a bunch of witches and gargoyles.”

  “In fairness, it’s probably for the best you didn’t tell him at your date last night,” she said. “I bet the witches deliberately left gaps in the privacy spell. They’re notorious gossips.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel much better, to be honest.”

  I felt more like hiding under the bed than sitting through Keith’s interrogation, but if the potion had caused him to remember anything about the attacker, I had to see this through.

  My phone buzzed with a message. From Nathan.

  Can you send me a picture of the note?

  Huh? I stared at the message. “He just… wants me to send him a photograph of the note. The one telling me the enemy’s looking for a fairy.”

  Alissa reached across the coffee table and passed the paper to me. I snapped a picture of it and sent it to him, my nerves jangling with adrenaline, my heart in my throat. He’d said nothing else, nothing to indicate if he was mad at me or disappointed or concerned or—whatever.

  Alissa’s phone rang. “Finally.” She grabbed it. “Hello? Grandma. Yes, we can come over right away. Obviously, we’ll bring the gargoyle. Fine. Bye.”

  She hung up, her face flushed. “We’re going to Keith’s interrogation. She got us in.”

  “How?”

  “I didn’t ask. I think your cat might have done something disgusting in the jail cells and driven everyone out.”

  “Really?” I turned to Sky, who’d sprawled out on the sofa as though there wasn’t an imminent death threat against his owner. “So when is it?”

  “Two minutes.”

  “Ah.” I scrambled to find my boots and bag, my head spinning. Would Nathan be there? He’d seen the second message but hadn’t sent a response, and had given no indication of his thoughts on the first one, either. No good news, but no bad news, either.

  We hurried to the police station. Sky stayed behind, but I had no doubt he could appear by my side in a second if he thought I needed it. That cat was consistently baffling, if nothing else, but I owed him a few months of petting for what he’d done for us.

  Our gargoyle guard tailed us all the way to the police station. Within, the werewolves had gone, and there was no sign of Madame Grey, either. Just gargoyles.

  Alissa pointed at Steve’s office, from which hushed voices issued. I trod towards the door, and knocked.

  Steve answered, ducking his head under the low doorway with a scowl. “You two. Must you keep meddling?”

  “I’m the killer’s next target,” I answered. “As I assume Madame Grey explained to you.” I peered into the room, seeing Keith sat in the chair opposite Steve’s desk. “He’s here to explain what he remembers of the night he was attacked. I’m almost certain it was the same person who killed the vampire and the werewolf. Right, Keith?”

  Alissa and I filed into the room behind Steve, and Keith shifted in his seat under our stares.

  “I… I remember some things,” he said. “But it’s blurry. I was in the woods… walking in the woods. And I heard a noise. A rustling, like a wild animal, or something big in the bushes.”

  “A… vampire?” I gave Alissa an uncertain look.

  His gaze dropped. “It… I think it knocked me over. I remember lying on the forest floor, and… and I think it killed me.”

  “You’re not dead,” Alissa said. “You… you turned. Are you absolutely certain it wasn’t a vampire?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t remember being bitten. I woke up like this.” He touched his fingertips to the bite marks on his neck.

  Alissa leaned forwards. “The bite marks,” she said. “They look… I don’t know. There’s something plain odd about all this. Are you absolutely certain it wasn’t Lord Anderson?”

  “Lord Anderson?” he echoed. “What about him?”

  “You’ve met?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he’s taught me a bit about the change, since Vincent’s been busy for the last couple of weeks.”

  I frowned at Alissa. “What about the bite marks doesn’t look right?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t believe the story, but I’m not so certain we’re dealing with a vampire here at all. It doesn’t sound like a vampire attacked you. But if it was that… if it was the monster in the forest, you’d be dead.”

  He shook his head. “I only remember that. And it’s clear, up until… look, I’m not the murderer.” He turned to Steve. “I barely remember the first couple of days in the hospital. I definitely wasn’t paying any attention when that guy died. I didn’t even know where the blood room was. It was brought to me in the ward. By…”

  “Her.” Steve’s gaze snapped to Alissa. “Right?”

  “Not just me,” said Alissa, not missing a beat. “I don’t deal with a lot of vampires, generally, but—now I think about it, the schedule seemed off. I mean, new vampires usually need more time to adjust than you did. Anyway, all vampires are different. I’m not the expert.”

  “I didn’t call you here to debate about vampire feeding times,” said Steve. “I intended to get a confession from the murderer.”

  “Keith isn’t the killer,” I said. “The real murderer isn’t exclusively targeting the werewolves or vampires. We’re waiting to hear from Madame Grey to find out why they might be doing this. A vampire died, a werewolf, and now they’re after a fairy. I have proof.” I held up the note.

  “What’s that?” Steve asked.

  “A note,” I said. “I don’t know who it’s from. But I’m—half fairy. I’m the target.”

  He looked at me a long moment. “Flying without wings,” he muttered. “I knew there was something off about you.”

  I took a step backwards in case he went for the handcuffs. “It’s not illegal for me not to tell you. I didn’t even know at first. I thought I was a human, then a fairy, then half witch… anyway, half is enough, because there aren’t any other fairies living in town.” Except for that pixie, b
ut now Steve was actually listening to me, I didn’t want to derail the subject. “And I don’t know who left me the note, as I said. But I believe it.”

  Steve gave a dismissive snort. “The killer didn’t give you an in-depth description of how he’s planning to kill you? It seems convenient that this note made it past security.”

  “My cat brought it in,” I said. “I didn’t fake it. You can look at my handwriting and you’ll see it’s not the same.”

  “You know… you’re right, Alissa,” said Keith, whose face had gone paler than usual. He ran a hand over the bite marks on his neck. “These do look a bit odd. I’ve tested out these—” he flashed his fangs—“And they don’t make the same mark.”

  “What?” I said. “But you are a vampire. Someone turned you.”

  He swallowed. “Bits of it are coming back to me now. The attacker… it ripped my throat out.”

  I gaped at him, and so did the others. “What?”

  “Vampire blood has healing properties,” said Alissa, clapping a hand to her mouth. “I knew there was a discrepancy in the hospital records. When a vampire’s blood is used to heal a fatal wound, it causes the same effect as being bitten.”

  “You’re saying someone saved my life and turned me in the process?” said Keith faintly.

  Lord Anderson. He’d been in the woods. Had he saved Keith, after the monster had attacked and left him for dead? If so, there might not be a vampire involved in the murders at all. If someone was close to death, a vampire’s blood could save them.

  I looked at Steve. “He’s innocent. The beast in the forest attacked him and left him for dead, and a passing vampire saved his life.”

  “So who the bloody hell is the killer?” Steve wanted to know.

  “Very good question,” I said. “Also: where is Madame Grey? I thought she was here.”

  “I think she went to the witches’ headquarters to look up whatever spell she thought the killer might be trying to do.” Alissa looked at the vampire. “You won’t spread this outside, right? The killer doesn’t know we’ve worked out that Blair is the target yet.”

  “You’re assuming the killer walks free?” said Steve.