by Lily Webb
“Wait, you were working on it with her, weren’t you? Is that why you keep your office locked?” I asked, and Mitch looked me square in the eye, his upper lip curling as he clutched the arms of his chair.
Luna crouched and hissed at him, and for a split second, I thought he might go full Hulk mode and rip us both apart.
“Whoa there, killer. Relax. I’m not a threat.”
“Sorry,” he sighed, his forehead burning bright red as he pushed himself into the back of his chair. “Talking about it gets me fired up sometimes.”
Though I couldn’t blame him for that, I also couldn’t tell if Mitch’s reaction was out of fear or passion — either way, it scared me. When my heart settled down enough to allow me to speak, I mulled over my words before I said them.
“Do you have any idea who might’ve done it?” I asked.
“Only a hunch. Nothing concrete,” Mitch said.
“What about the police? Aren’t they involved?”
“They claim to be, but it’s impossible to tell what’s going on with my fellow werewolves in blue uniforms. The only things tighter than their standards are their lips,” Mitch said. “You’ll learn that soon enough.”
They sounded delightful if Mitch and Beau could be believed.
“So let me get this straight: I’ve been hired to replace a reporter who was murdered for pursuing a super sensitive story, no one knows who killed her, and the police aren’t talking. Am I missing anything?” I asked.
“No that’s pretty much everything,” Mitch said, nodding.
“And that same murderer could, in theory at least, come after me?” I asked.
“Not likely, but I suppose it’s possible,” Mitch said. “We’ve beefed up security around the office since the murder, so I don’t think you need to worry too much.”
“Really? I didn’t see anything to suggest that,” I said.
“Then you weren’t looking high enough. The gargoyles don’t typically come down from the roofs unless there’s a problem,” Mitch said.
So the gargoyles were private security? Lovely.
“The roof of this building isn’t very high.”
“I didn’t say they were on our roof,” Mitch said. “Anyway, now you know why people aren’t exactly lining up to work here anymore.”
“And why you’re having to resort to looking for talent outside Moon Grove,” I said. Mitch nodded.
“Something like that, yeah,” he said. “All that said, I wouldn’t blame you if you walked out of here right now.”
I paused. Staying at the Messenger sounded like a recipe for disaster if I’d ever heard one — but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I had so many questions about pretty much everything, but more than anything else I wanted to know more about Harper and her story.
Maybe all the police needed was someone to prod them a bit. I could definitely handle that, even if it wasn’t technically in the job description. I’d just have to make sure Mitch didn’t hear about it.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, and Mitch stared at me blank-faced.
“You aren’t?” he asked.
“You aren’t?” Luna echoed, staring up at me with wide eyes. “You did hear the part about how the other woman was murdered, right?”
“Yes, I heard, and I’m still not leaving. Why would I wanna go back to my boring family farm when I could be around all this? I’ll never live another dull day for the rest of my life,” I said.
“Good. Then why don’t we get started?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” I said. Mitch smiled and held a hand out for me to shake. I looked at it warily, unsure if it might turn into a giant paw with massive claws at any given moment, and Mitch laughed.
“Unlike cats, a scratch from a werewolf won’t give you a fever, and I only bite on full moons,” he said.
“Then I’ll be sure to avoid you on those nights,” I said, but shook his hand anyway, and he chuckled.
“Welcome to your new home away from home, Zoe. This paper’s probably going to consume your life,” Mitch said.
“Thanks, I wouldn’t have it any other way. But speaking of, I guess I need to find a place to live,” I said.
“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got you covered. Are you okay with a roommate?” he asked.
“As long as they aren’t going to turn into a bloodthirsty beast on full moons, sure,” I said, and Mitch laughed.
“Flora won’t do that, but she is a little, well, mischievous,” Mitch said as he stood from his desk.
“She sounds like my kind of gal,” I said.
“I thought you might like that. Grab your things, I’ll introduce you to her,” Mitch said.
“Oh, she works here too?”
“Of course. Flora Gemwood is one of the best copy editors this paper has ever employed. After more than a hundred years on staff, she could even make sense of Harper’s words,” Mitch said.
One hundred years? Was he serious?
“She was Harper’s editor?” I asked.
“Yup, and her roommate,” Mitch said.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Something about moving into my dead predecessor’s old room felt a little, well, macabre, but what other choice did I have? I couldn’t leave my bags in Mitch’s office forever.
“Harper refused to let any of the other editors touch her work,” Mitch said. “I’m telling you, the things she and Flora produced together were more than magical. I just hope you two have the same connection.”
“Does that mean she’s going to be my editor too?” I asked.
“That depends on whether or not you ask her about her wings,” Mitch said.
“I’m sorry, come again? Her wings?”
“Yeah, fairies are otherworldly beautiful, but for some reason, they’re self-conscious about their wings — especially Flora,” he said as he opened the door and motioned for me to follow.
I swallowed and grabbed my bags while trying to reconcile that fact in my head: my new editor and potential roommate was a fairy. A real fairy with real wings.
“I’ll try to keep my mouth shut then,” I said.
“Good luck with that,” Luna said as she trotted out the door into the newsroom ahead of me.
“Could I interest you in adopting a cat?” I asked Mitch, and he shook his head.
“You know, cats and dogs and all that. Probably not a good idea,” he said.
“Keep it in mind anyway,” I said, and followed Mitch across the newsroom floor toward the center, dodging flying papers and tablets along the way.
Chapter Five
Nothing could’ve prepared me to meet a fairy. Not only was Flora outrageously beautiful — a narrow face with soft cheekbones and features framed by loose silver-blond curls — but she also had wings. Four of them.
“You must be Zoe,” she said, her voice light and pleasant as she stood from her desk. She was much shorter than she seemed sitting down, barely more than five feet tall. Her wings fluttered and sparkled behind her. Why would she ever be self-conscious about them? They were mesmerizing, and I knew right away I was going to have trouble keeping my mouth shut.
“Seems like everyone around here already knows me,” I said.
“Moon Grove isn’t a big town. Everyone knows everyone, whether they like it or not,” Flora said.
Interesting. I bet that meant someone knew something about Harper and who killed her, but now wasn’t the time to ask — not least of all because Harper was so close to Flora.
“I guess I’ll add that to my ever-expanding list of things to get used to,” I said.
“You’ll adjust fast, I can already tell,” Flora said. “Anyway, since I’m sure Mitch isn’t going to properly introduce us, I’m Flora Gemwood.”
She held a pale, frail-looking hand out for me to shake and I took it with care. She chuckled.
“I’m not as fragile as I look.”
“She isn’t kidding. Flora’s tough as nails,” Mitch said. “Don’t ever hand her a
bad story. She’ll let you have it.”
“Duly noted,” I said.
“Are you still looking for a roommate? Zoe here’s on the prowl,” Mitch said.
“Does she, er, know about the history—”
“I do. It’s okay with me,” I interrupted. Flora beamed.
“Good. Honestly, it’s been pretty lonely at home since, well, you know,” Flora said, shrugging. Her wings fluttered with the movement, and my mouth opened to say something, but I caught myself.
“Are you okay with cats? Specifically talking ones?” I asked, and Flora furrowed her brows at me.
“She’s referring to me,” Luna said as she hopped up on Flora’s desk.
Flora let out a squeal, and in a flash, she had her hands all over Luna, petting and scratching under her chin. Luna’s purring echoed over all the noise in the newsroom.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I laughed. “Don’t get any ideas, Luna. You’re still mine.”
“We’ll see about that,” Luna cooed, her eyes closed.
“Luna, is that her name? It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. Is she your familiar?” Flora asked.
“You’re not the first person to ask me that, and I still don’t know what it means,” I said.
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it all out eventually. It’s a lot to take in at once, but I’d be happy to help where I can,” Flora said.
Maybe living with Flora wouldn’t be so strange after all.
“Looks like you two are off to a good start. You know what? Why don’t you both take the day off to get Zoe settled at home?” Mitch asked.
“Are you sure about that? We’re on deadline,” Flora said.
“We’re always on deadline. We’ll be fine,” Mitch said. “Besides, I want Zoe on assignment tomorrow for the Council meeting, so she should rest up for a big day.”
“Okay, but I don’t want to hear any howling from you about tomorrow’s issue of the paper,” Flora said. Tough as nails, indeed.
“Howling? How original. I can’t make any promises. Now get out of here before I change my mind,” Mitch said.
“Don’t have to tell me twice. Come on, Zoe. We can drop your things off at home, and I’ll show you around town,” Flora said.
She flicked her hand over her desk. The upper drawer flung open, and her purse drifted through the air to her hands.
“Sounds good,” I said and made to wheel my bags out of Flora’s way, but she waved her hand upward, and my luggage drifted up behind her.
“Why carry things?” she asked.
“Is that how you stay looking so young?” I asked, and Flora blushed.
“I don’t look half bad for seven-hundred and six, do I?” she asked, and I coughed.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“No, please, it’s a major compliment,” Flora said, smiling at me. “Come on,” she said and took my hand in hers to lead me to the front door.
“Stay out of trouble, both of you!” Mitch called after us.
“Always,” Flora said and winked at me. She was definitely my kind of gal.
We stepped back out into the morning sun, my suitcases and Luna’s cage bobbing through the door frame behind us like balloons on invisible strings. Flora’s skin sparkled in the sun, her wings twitching. Could she fly? It probably wasn’t a good idea to ask.
“What’s the Council Mitch mentioned?” I asked, trying to make conversation that didn’t revolve around a fairy’s features and abilities.
“I’m glad you asked since you’re gonna be spending a lot of time covering them. The Council is a group of witches and warlocks that govern Moon Grove. Each of the eleven major covens in town has one elected representative on the Council, and they’re all led by the Head Witch and Warlock,” Flora said.
I didn’t know much about witchcraft, but I’d seen enough episodes of Charmed to understand what a coven was.
“Why only witches and warlocks? Why don’t all the other groups around town get a representative?” I asked, and Flora smirked.
“An even better question. The witches founded Moon Grove as a refuge during the witch hunts of the late 1600s, and they’ve run things ever since. No one really questioned them until recently when the vampires started demanding a seat at the table,” Flora said.
For once, I was glad I’d paid attention in high school history. It was hard to fathom that Moon Grove was that old, much less that it’d been kept a secret all this time — and that vampires were lurking around in addition to everything else.
“Well, it at least sounds like my new beat won’t be boring,” I said.
“Far from it,” Flora laughed. “You’ll see first-hand tomorrow. Council meetings have been a little, well, explosive lately, especially in the wake of Claudette and Harper’s deaths.”
“Unsolved murders have a way of putting people on edge like that,” I sighed. “Who’s Claudette?” I asked.
“Claudette Riddle. She was the previous Head Witch,” Flora said.
“The one who passed away from cancer?” I asked.
“Exactly,” Flora said. “Everyone loved her and things haven’t been the same around here since she died.”
“Do you think Harper’s murder had anything to do with this election?” I asked, and Flora stopped to fiddle with her thumbs.
“I don’t really like to talk about it, but how couldn’t it?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I don’t know much about what Harper was working on — she refused to tell me, and Mitch wouldn’t let any of her work be edited by anyone but him — but I think she was digging deep on the Council.”
“Interesting. Why do you think Harper would’ve wanted to investigate them?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Harper had a bit of a fascination with Opal Cromwell, one of the Council members now running for Head Witch, but I’m not sure if that had anything to do with it. I let it go after Harper was killed because it was too painful to try to understand it. It crushed me, and Mitch probably more than that,” Flora said.
“It’s probably best if you let it go too. You don’t need to make a bad name for yourself right out of the gate.”
Fat chance of that happening. If anyone thought I was going to ignore the fact my predecessor had been murdered — and that her murderer was still at large — they were sorely mistaken. All my life, the one thing I’d been good at was asking people questions, and I wasn’t about to stop.
“Where do you live anyway?” I asked.
“On the northeast side of town, near the Academy,” Flora said.
“Academy?”
“Veilside Academy, the witches’ and warlocks’ school. It’s world-renowned and brings students and paranormal tourists from all over the globe,” Flora said.
“Not to mention Willowvale, the adjoining hospital. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of them, being a witch and all.”
“I’m sorry, what did you call me?”
“It wasn’t an insult.”
“No, no, I didn’t mean that I just… Did you say I’m a witch? I highly doubt that,” I said, and Flora giggled.
“You know I came here from a farm, right?”
“Don’t be silly, I can smell the magic on you. It’s powerful,” Flora said.
Okay, slightly creepy, but it wasn’t the worst thing I’d experienced since arriving in town.
“Are you sure it isn’t manure you smell?” I asked, and Flora giggled again.
“You’re funny. No, silly, it’s magic. There’s no smell like it,” she said.
“Is that, like, a fairy thing? Being able to smell magic, I mean?” I asked.
“Not necessarily. All of us have some sort of radar for magic, though it manifests in lots of different ways,” Flora said, and I gasped as the realization struck me.
“The itching!” I said.
“I’m sorry?”
“The itching feeling I’ve been getting lately. I first felt it when I talked to Mitch on the phone for the interview,
but I felt it worst right as I was crossing through the gate into town. It must be like my magical version of Spidey Senses or something,” I said.
Flora stared at me blankly.
“Like I said, it manifests in different ways. Anyway, shall we?” Flora asked as she walked north on Crescent Street, away from the bustling center.
The girl sure moved fast, and it was a struggle for me to keep pace — and I couldn’t help wondering if she was cheating a little bit with her wings.
In less than five minutes, we’d zoomed past countless houses and shops to the northern edge of town. A few yards away, on top of a hill, a gothic stone castle composed of five towers loomed over everything else in town.
Its tallest central spire, which titled so far to the right it threatened to topple over, cast a crooked hook of a shadow that stretched all the way to Moon Grove’s entrance gates, and a grand stone staircase snaked up from the street to the castle’s imposing cherry-stained wooden double doors.
To the Academy’s right, a more modern office style building stood almost as tall. A massive crescent moon, sliced through by a cross, hung from its face.
“That’s Veilside Academy,” Flora said. “And Willowvale Hospital.”
“The academy’s name fits. I feel like I’m staring into the void looking at it,” I said, shielding my eyes from the sun to see more detail.
It looked more like a haunted castle than an academy. I couldn’t be sure, but the building must’ve been held together by magic — how else could it lean like that without breaking off at the middle?
Then again, logic didn’t seem to hold much influence in this town.
“We can swing by there later if you want. It’s always open to visitors, especially witches,” Flora said.
“Well, they’re going to be sorely disappointed if they think I’m a witch,” I said.
“If anyone could figure it out, it would be the staff there. I could introduce you to Raina, she’s the headmistress and Harper’s aunt,” Flora said.
“I’m sure she’d love to meet you. Raina’s always interested in finding new talent for the Academy.”
If Harper’s aunt was really the headmistress, that alone would make a visit worth it — even if it meant embarrassing myself by proving how non-magical I was.
