Broomsticks and Burials

by Lily Webb

  “Maybe,” Flora sighed. “We’re all worried about that.”

  “Right, hence the gargoyle guards. Anyway, what else do you know about what Harper and Mitch were working on?” I asked. I’d already gotten a wealth of information from Flora, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask for more.

  “Harper was convinced Opal had some connection to the vampires and based on what you saw, that adds up,” Flora said. “But that’s all I know.”

  “Mitch is the only other one who’d know for sure,” I said, more to myself than Flora. “Can people tell when I’m in their minds?”

  “I dunno. Try it on me,” Flora said. She closed her eyes and stood straight. Swallowing, I focused and tried to tune into her brain waves, but I heard nothing. The whooshing, waves crashing sound I’d heard with Raina and Mitch never came.

  “Seems like the signal’s jammed or something,” I said.

  “Maybe it doesn’t work on fairies. I can’t lie to you any more than you can lie to me,” Flora said.

  “Good thing you’re my friend then,” I said, and Flora laughed.

  “Maybe Raina will be able to help us make sense of all this. Do you want me to come with you?” she asked.

  “Please? Raina is a little, er, intense,” I said. Flora smiled at me and nodded.

  “I know what you mean. Come on,” Flora said and took one of my hands in hers to lead me toward Veilside. It was no less impressive looking from the outside as it was the day before.

  “Can we just walk in uninvited?” I asked.

  “Why not? You’re a witch, I’m sure they won’t mind,” Flora said as we walked up the stone steps hand-in-hand, the academy’s shadow swallowing us.

  Flora shoved the towering double doors forward, which yawned and creaked as they opened. We entered a dim room lit only by the half-dozen fire places that lined its sides.

  It was so quiet inside the room I heard my own heart beating, which seemed to get louder with every step we took. The room looked more like a nuclear fallout bunker than it did a school, but then again I didn’t know anything about witchcraft.

  “Zoe Clarke, we meet again,” a voice rang from behind, making both of us jump.

  I turned to find Raina Woods standing near the door that’d just closed behind us, a half-smile on her otherwise serious face.

  “I was hoping you’d pay us a visit soon, but I’m surprised it came so quickly,” Raina said, firelight flickering across her face.

  For the Headmistress of one of the most prestigious magical academies in the world, she didn’t seem to be very busy most of the time. Didn’t she have a class to teach?

  “You were right,” I blurted, letting go of Flora’s hand to approach Raina. “I have mind magic or whatever.”

  “Telepathy,” Raina corrected me, and I nodded.

  “Right, yeah, that,” I said. “I wanna learn how to use it.”

  “Why?” Raina asked.

  “Reasons,” I mumbled, and Raina smirked at me.

  “Are you already stirring up trouble?” she asked. I shook my head.

  “No. Why would I ever want to do that?”

  “Headmistress Woods, Zoe only wants to learn to use her talents so she can perform better at work. Right, Zoe?” Flora asked, and I nodded vigorously — probably too much. Raina stared me in the eye, and the familiar whooshing sound washed over me again.

  I presume this has something to do with my niece? Her words rang in my head.

  “Maybe,” I said out loud, and Flora looked at me like I was crazy. I’d have to explain everything to her later.

  If Raina could communicate with me like this, did that mean I could talk back? There was only one way to find out. I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate.

  I heard my boss’ thoughts today, I projected, and Raina’s eyebrows crept up her forehead before she smiled.

  I know he was working with Harper on something, something that got her killed — and he’s hiding it.

  Good, you’re already learning, Raina said — or thought or whatever. It was too much for me to try to understand the logistics of it.

  I want to find out who killed her. I know this power or whatever it is can help me do that, but I need you to teach me how to use it, Headmistress.

  Raina’s smile widened as she nodded at me.

  Then tell me what your friend is thinking.

  What? I can’t do that, I tried earlier. I don’t think I can read a fairy’s though—

  Try again, Raina interrupted.

  Sighing, I turned my eyes to Flora, who looked like she’d seen a ghost.

  “What are you doing?” Flora asked, but Raina shushed her. I closed my eyes and focused on the image of Flora in my mind. Nothing happened.

  Keep pushing. You’re almost there. It’s more difficult with some species, but not impossible, Raina’s voice encouraged me. I furrowed my brow and pushed harder with my mind until something inside me felt like it snapped.

  I don’t like this one bit. What are the two of them doing? What if Zoe gets hurt? Flora’s words bounced in my mind, and a smile split my face as I realized I’d done it.

  “It seems I was right about you, Zoe,” Raina said out loud, ripping me from the deep space we’d entered together. The crackling of the flames in the fire places roared in my ears.

  Flora looked from me to Raina and back again, apparently unable to understand what’d happened between us. My head felt like it might float off my shoulders. Reading minds was evidently more taxing than I’d thought it would be.

  “What’s going on?” Flora asked.

  “As I said, I’d be honored to mentor you. Come to my home tomorrow at dusk, and we can begin,” Raina said. She waved her hand and a card shot from her robes into my hand. From the flickering light of the fire, I saw it listed her name, Paraphone number, and address.

  Thank you, I projected, and Raina winked at me.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it seems a witch on the third floor has caught her hair on fire, the poor dear,” Raina said and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  First mission of magic training: learn how to teleport like that.

  “What happened? What was that?” Flora asked.

  “Listen, Flora, I’m sorry. I read your mind, but only because Raina asked me to. You know, to test me,” I said.

  Flora blushed. So she hadn’t been able to tell I was inside her mind? Good to know.

  “I hope I didn’t say—”

  “No, of course not. You can’t lie, remember? You were worried about me. It was sweet,” I said, and Flora’s face softened.

  “I am worried about you, Zoe. I don’t know what you’re planning, but please be careful,” Flora said as she led me outside. The afternoon sunlight was blinding.

  “I’ve already lost one roommate and co-worker, I don’t want to lose another. Whoever killed Harper won’t stop with her if it means keeping their secrets,” Flora said.

  She didn’t need to remind me.

  But now that I knew I really could read minds, how could I walk away? It was the perfect sort of skill to track down whoever had gone after Harper.

  All I had to do was spy on the thoughts of a few people who seemed like they had something to hide — it wasn’t like they’d ever know I’d done it, right?

  Mitch Harris was first on my list of targets.

  Chapter Eight

  Try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get Mitch alone the next morning. He’d come out for a few moments to talk something over with someone, but dash back into his office as soon as they were finished.

  I’d swear he was avoiding me, which didn’t help his case in my mind. But if there was one thing I was used to — and quite good at, if I did say so myself — it was dogging people until I got what I wanted.

  When covering slippery politicians for a living, it pays to be determined.

  My lucky break came during lunch when Mitch finally emerged from his office and made the mistake of walking past my desk toward the front door.


  “Mitch, can we talk?” I asked.

  “No,” he said, but I wasn’t going to give up that easily. I jumped from my desk and followed him.

  “You can’t avoid me forever,” I said.

  “Who said I’m avoiding you?” he asked without stopping.

  “Actions speak louder than words,” I said and he halted abruptly. I caught myself at the last second and sidestepped before crashing into his back. He turned and glared at me.

  “I take it you’re fishing for company for lunch?” he asked.

  “Something like that,” I said.

  “I always bring food back to eat in my office. Walk with me,” he said, and turned to leave.

  He didn’t have to tell me twice.

  More than once, I considered trying to peek into his mind again, but thought better of it each time. If I wanted Mitch to trust me, I’d have to prove he could and prying into his head wouldn’t help. Besides, just because Flora couldn’t tell I was in her thoughts didn’t mean Mitch couldn’t — he seemed well aware the first time I’d done it.

  We walked all the way to the town center on Crescent Street before Mitch said anything else to me.

  “Do you like French food?” he asked, and I laughed, confused.

  “Sorry?”

  “You know, to eat.”

  “They serve that kind of thing around here?” I asked and Mitch looked at me like I’d spoken in French myself.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t they?”

  “Never mind. Yeah, I’m open to pretty much all kinds of food,” I said.

  “Good, you’d be in trouble otherwise. It’s probably not news to you by now that there’s a big French influence in town,” Mitch said.

  “So I’ve gathered,” I said and shivered when the memory of Valentine kissing my hand flashed through my mind. The French culture could only have come from the vampires.

  Mitch led me to a place called Aubin’s. I’d never in my life seen carry-out French cuisine, but there were dozens of things I hadn’t seen before coming to Moon Grove.

  A heavyset vampire with a large nose in a white apron, who looked much less frightening than Valentine, smiled up from his cooking station.

  “Bonjour, mon ami. What will it be today?” he asked.

  “Hey, Aubin. Can I have an extra large order of ratatouille for me and my friend to share?” Mitch asked.

  “Bien sûr,” Aubin said. A second later, a plastic bag appeared on the counter in front of Mitch. I couldn’t tell if it was magic or if the vampire was just that quick. Either way, it was impressive.

  “Merci,” Mitch said as he handed Aubin a wad of bills with a crescent moon logo I didn’t recognize. “Keep the change.”

  Did Moon Grove have its own currency too?

  “My pleasure,” Aubin said. “Enjoy.”

  “I’m sure we will, as always,” Mitch said, and waved before leading me back up Crescent Street.

  “I take it not all vampires are bad?” I asked. Mitch smirked.

  “Not all of them, no,” he agreed.

  “Look, Mitch, about yesterday, I—”

  “Not now, Zoe, there are too many pairs of ears listening. We’ll talk about it in my office,” he said, and pulled away from me.

  Okay then. Sighing, I followed Mitch back to the Messenger in silence, not quite sure why he’d had me come along in the first place.

  “Have a seat,” he said when we were safely inside his office. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat,” I said with a shrug. Mitch opened the plastic bag to reveal a styrofoam container. He cracked it open and the smell of vegetables flooded my nose. It smelled amazing and it wouldn’t have surprised me if it was magically prepared. No one in Moon Grove seemed to do anything without magic.

  “Help yourself,” he said as he passed me a plastic fork from inside the bag.

  “Are you sure? Isn’t that, like, kinda gross?”

  “You mean sharing a meal with a wolf?” he asked, smirking at me.

  “No, that’s not what I meant at all, I—”

  “It was a joke, Zoe, relax,” Mitch said.

  He sat down at his desk and cradled his temples in his hands. As a gesture of goodwill, I took a bite of the ratatouille and groaned at how amazing it tasted. Mitch smiled at me and motioned for me to have some more, and it was so good I couldn’t resist.

  “Listen, I’ll cut right to the point. I know you’re chasing the Harper story,” he said while I had a mouthful of food, and I didn’t doubt it was on purpose. I choked it down as quickly as possible.

  “Would you expect anything less of me?” I asked, and Mitch chuckled. He could try to buy me with food all he wanted, it wasn’t going to make me stop asking questions.

  “I guess not.”

  “Then why don’t you just tell me? If you know I’m going to keep dogging the story, no pun intended, why not save me the trouble?” I asked.

  “It isn’t that easy,” Mitch said.

  “I don’t see what’s so difficult about it. I ask you questions, you tell me what you know, then we both go about our business,” I said.

  “What do you want, Zoe? Why are you doing this?” Mitch asked.

  “I want the truth,” I said. “I’m doing it because I need to know what I’m up against here. I mean, why wouldn’t I want to know who killed a reporter at the paper I work for and why they did it?”

  “We all want to know, but it’s not our job, not now,” Mitch said.

  “Why not? If not us, then who?”

  “The police. That’s what they’re trained to do. This is dangerous, Zoe, haven’t you realized that by now?”

  “Of course, but I’m not scared, even if I should be. What scares me more is not having answers. So I’ll ask again, what do you know about what happened to Harper?”

  Mitch sighed and shook his head.

  “Nothing outside of what everyone else already knows.”

  “Fair enough. Then what did Harper learn about Opal Cromwell? It has something to do with one or both of those vampires from the Council meeting today, doesn’t it? Why else would Opal stick up for them?” I asked.

  Mitch looked like he might be sick.

  “Zoe, I’m begging you, let this go,” Mitch said. “Some things are better left buried.”

  “Nothing stays buried forever,” I said. “Don’t make me jump in your head again for answers.”

  Mitch froze, his mouth hanging open while he searched for words, and I didn’t blame him — I was amazed at my own bravery. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his forehead before he spoke.

  “Harper was… Special to me, Zoe,” Mitch said.

  “Special how?”

  “Use your imagination,” Mitch said, and it dawned on me: Mitch and Harper were dating. But were they an item when she died or at some point prior?

  Either way, that meant it wasn't likely Mitch had anything to do with Harper’s death. Killing a girlfriend, especially a subordinate employee, definitely wouldn’t have made him look good.

  “Oh,” I said. “I had no idea—”

  “You have to believe me, I didn’t hurt her. I could never have hurt her,” Mitch interrupted. “I was here that night, working on deadline, just like every other night. Any of the staff could corroborate that.”

  “Anyway, I sent Harper home early because she'd been working so much and I could tell she was exhausted, plus she said she needed to meet with someone,” Mitch said.

  I wanted to know who that someone was and why they were meeting with Harper, but I didn't dare stop Mitch now that he'd finally opened the floodgates.

  “I didn't hear from her for the rest of the night, but I assumed she'd just gone home right to bed. But then the police called me the next morning. She never came home,” he said, his voice cracking.

  I didn’t need to read his thoughts to hear the truth in his words. Maybe he really was just trying to protect me from who or whatever had killed Harper.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and I
meant it.

  “Not your fault,” he said. “Look, I wish I could tell you more about the story, but Harper didn’t really let me in on the scoop either. She said it was to keep me away from any potential backlash; she didn’t want to sink the Messenger too if it came to that. I kept telling her to leave it alone and that whatever she was following wasn’t worth it, but she was never one to listen to me. Or, well, anyone else, really.”

  That must’ve been why Mitch kept his office locked. Whatever Harper was working on, he literally held the keys to it. But why? Why wouldn't he want that information out there if it could help solve Harper’s murder? Maybe because it was just a bunch of loose ends.

  “You must’ve known something, though. Flora told me you wouldn’t let anyone see Harper’s work but you,” I said. Mitch blanched.

  “I knew introducing you two was a bad idea,” Mitch groaned. “She shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “It’s true, then?”

  “Yes. But I only did it to shield everyone else on staff from any potential fallout, and now that Harper’s dead and the police are investigating, I don’t think it’s a good idea to release any of her scoop into the public realm,” Mitch said.

  He paused and narrowed his eyes at me.

  “The fewer people who know about this story, the better. That includes you, Zoe.”

  “So she wasn’t really working alone, was she?” I asked, and Mitch dodged my gaze.

  “Did you not hear any of what I just said?” he asked as he threw his hands in the air.

  “Oh, I heard you loud and clear. You said Harper went to meet someone that night after you sent her home. Who was it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying, I don’t need to read your mind to know that,” I said. Mitch sighed.

  “Fine. It was an anonymous source,” he said.

  “How anonymous are we talking here?” I asked.

  “As anonymous as they come. I don’t know anything about them. Harper refused to tell me their name. I don’t even know if it’s a male or female,” Mitch said.

  I didn’t buy it, so despite my better judgment, I took a deep breath and focused until the whooshing sound rolled in my ears.

  And thank God I don’t. That missing piece of the puzzle is the only thing keeping Zoe from getting tangled up in all this, Mitch thought, and I smirked.