A Grave Spell (The Spellwork Files Book 1)

by Jenna Collett

  Ivy seldom answered me—she probably had a million other more important things to do than message her cousin—but she always read them. Always.

  Until she didn’t.

  My hand shook as I replaced the phone in my pocket. Numbness spread through my body, but I couldn’t numb my mind. It raced from one thought to the next, a furious slideshow of Ivy’s greatest moments and my less-than-talented upbringing, all culminating in a horrifying realization.

  I sat down hard in a wingback chair. If Ivy Jennings was dead, it meant I’d been activated in her place.

  Nooo . . .

  Nausea churned my stomach. This wasn’t supposed to happen—ever! No one had planned for it. Not in any real sense. It was always this hypothetical thing, like aliens invading or the zombie apocalypse. Movies were made about them, but they weren’t real.

  “How? When?” I croaked, glancing between Oscar and Caden. The prick of tears stung my eyes, and I swiped them away. I had so many questions, but Ivy came first. She always came first.

  Oscar folded his hands together and leaned forward on his elbows. “We’re still gathering information. The council has kept it quiet until now. As far as we can tell, it was an ambush that took out the entire team. We’ll hopefully know more soon.”

  I blinked. His words took longer to settle in my mind than they should. A lump of grief clogged my throat. I needed to call my mother and have her check on my aunt. Unless they’d already been informed. News like this would travel fast.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  The man nodded and rose from his chair. He floated straight through the desk and came to hover beside the hearth. Tugging on his vest, he cleared his throat.

  “The name is Oscar Clarke. I’m a Spellwork training mentor, at your service.” He bent at the waist in a curt bow. “Due to the tragic circumstance of your cousin’s passing, I have been assigned as your guide. We have a lot of ground to cover, and we’ve been tracking demon activity in the area for a few weeks. It’s coincided with the murder at the country club, which, conveniently, is our first case.”

  Our first case? So it was a murder. Why couldn’t I stop blinking? I probably looked deranged.

  “But you’re a ghost. None of the other mentors are ghosts.”

  Oscar barked out a laugh. “Don’t I know it! However, I think you’ll find you’re lucky to have me. Back in my day, I was a highly prolific paranormal investigator.” He puffed out his chest. “Now, I’m sure you’re thinking times have changed. The kids always say that. But I challenge you: have they changed?”

  Yes! My mind screamed. In his day, Edison had probably just invented the light bulb. I looked over at Caden and forced myself to stop blinking like a lunatic.

  “Is he serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” Oscar crowed, answering for Caden. His features grew solemn. “Mind you, that is my official cause of death. The truth, my dear, would throw you for a loop.”

  This was so bad! The higher-ups at Spellwork actually thought they should pair me with a dead mentor from the past? Were they insane? Trying to get me killed? Both? I dropped my head into my hands, only to jerk upright when a new realization smacked me square in the chest.

  If Oscar was my guide, that meant Caden was my partner.

  Sweet heavens, no.

  I was afraid to ask. Avoiding eye contact with Caden, I addressed my new guide. “So, what’s his story?”

  “Ah, Caden’s a transfer from the west coast division. He’s very experienced. You’ll learn a lot from him.”

  “Can I see his file?”

  “No!” both Caden and Oscar shouted at the same time. Only Oscar appeared flustered. Caden just appeared furious. It quadrupled my interest in his past.

  Caden was definitely hiding something.

  Oscar adjusted his bow tie and clarified, “Unfortunately, the file is confidential.”

  Of course it was.

  “Let me get this straight.” I scrubbed a hand over my face with impatience. “I, someone with literally no field training and a basic use of spells, am now partners with a man burdened by a mysterious past and a huge chip on his shoulder. My guide is a ghost from the nineteenth century, and we’re supposed to solve supernatural crime and hunt demons?”

  “I don’t have a chip on my shoulder,” Caden growled.

  Oscar silenced him with a look then clapped his hands together. “Close, my dear! But you forgot about Loki.”

  “What? Is the dog a super-secret shifter with a sidearm?”

  “No—don’t be silly! He’s our mascot.”

  “Mascot?” I said in disbelief.

  Oscar’s thick eyebrows drew together. “Does ‘emotional support familiar’ sound better? Either way, he’s going home with you.”

  To the dorms? Loki barked at hearing his name and rose to his hind legs. The chew toy lay discarded at his feet while he basked in the attention. He rolled onto his side to expose his furry belly and stared up at me with soulful eyes.

  And my head was in my hands again. Somewhere, the supernatural gods were laughing at me. They were probably placing bets on how soon I’d get myself killed.

  I’ll put a hundred bucks on next Tuesday.

  Disappointment wedged itself between my ribs. Dead witches didn’t earn business degrees and build their own empires. All my years of hard work and dreams . . . for what?

  I should have been thrilled. This was technically a giant promotion in the prestige department, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t crushed and more than a little panicked. Ivy’s team were the best of the best. What chance did I have with a grumpy transfer, a ghost mentor, and a familiar that acted more like a puppy chasing after butterflies than a hellhound?

  We were going to die . . . Well, half of us.

  I cleared the tightness in my throat and squared my shoulders. “Look, I appreciate the clearly . . .”—I glanced at Oscar, who’d taken a pocket watch from his vest and had begun winding the key—“seasoned team we have gathered here, but I’m not the right fit. There has to be somebody better trained. I can’t do it.”

  “I’m afraid you’re it, my dear. We can’t just move someone else from another location.”

  “They moved Caden!”

  Oscar coughed. “Special circumstances. I’m sorry, but you’re the backup. You know the rules: two hunters from a single family in each generation. If you turn this down, or if something happens to you, it will be years before another chosen one is ready. The tide could turn. Evil will get the upper hand. Without you, we’re all doomed.” His voice deepened at the end as if he were narrating an apocalyptic movie trailer.

  My lips parted at his ominous prediction. Doomed?

  Caden pushed off the wall and stalked across the room. “Way to sell it, Oscar. You shouldn’t have led with the weight of the world being on her shoulders. I think you made her catatonic.” He kneeled in front of my chair and waved a hand in front of my face.

  “I’m not catatonic,” I snarled, catching his smirk when I swatted his hand away.

  “Then what are you, Graves?” He cocked a brow. “If it’s the training you’re worried about, I’m the best instructor there is. I can whip you into shape. If it’s the magic, you’ll be happy to learn this job comes with a few upgrades.” His eyes narrowed on mine, delving deep, searching for a spark I wasn’t even sure was there. He chuckled under his breath, pinpointing my vulnerability. Somehow, he had an uncanny ability to know right where to hit to make it hurt. “Or maybe you’re right. Maybe someone who’s always stood in Ivy’s shadow doesn’t have what it takes.”

  A gut punch. Maybe I didn’t. But Ivy’s shadow was gone now, leaving me standing in the spotlight. Whether I liked it or not, there was no place for me to hide. Even if I turned this job down, our enemies would hunt me. There was no witness protection program for witches. And even if there were, the kind of shop I wanted to open would require big, splashy marketing. An influencer or two. I wouldn’t be keeping a low profile. If I wanted one drea
m, I’d also have to live the nightmare.

  Go big or go home, right? Well, not home, but to some off-the-grid bunker where there were no taco stands or streaming services. If those were the options, I might as well go big.

  I leaned forward, locking my gaze with Caden’s. His harsh words may have lit a fire in me, but I had a little fire of my own. “Did I say you had a chip on your shoulder? I forgot to add you’re also an arrogant jerk. Count me in.”

  He angled his chin in a slight nod. I couldn’t tell if he was relieved to have convinced me or cursing his luck. If I had to guess, I’d go with the latter.

  “Excellent!” Oscar floated away from the hearth and resumed his spot behind the desk. “Now that we’re settled, we have a few things to discuss regarding your newly gained position. We’ll start with your duties and then move on to weaponry. Caden, the scroll, please.”

  I sighed and reached for the boot I’d dropped next to my chair. Wincing, I slipped my bruised foot inside while Caden rummaged through papers on the desk. My back ached from my fall, and my head ached from our conversation.

  “It’s not here,” he said, checking through the documents a second time.

  “It’s not? That’s strange . . . I wonder—”

  “It’s fine. I know what my duties are,” I interrupted. “I may not have experience in the field, but I read the books the council sent me over the years. All of them.” I ticked the duties off on my fingers. “The chosen hunter shall investigate all instances of supernatural crime and use her skills to rid the area of any offenders. Basically, I send evil back to where it came from without letting the general population in on the secret. The Spellwork Organization has divisions located around the globe. It is a time-honored, essential position that keeps the balance between good and evil squarely in the good box.”

  “Jeez, Graves, did you memorize the handbook?” Caden joked.

  Oscar played with the ends of his mustache and nodded. “That sums up the position. You know, it’s nice to have a reader on the team. Someone who pays attention to documented history. There’s a lot you can learn from books. The mind is an excellent weapon.”

  “Yes, books are the perfect weapon for what we’re dealing with. We can just throw them at the demons.” Caden crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

  “Speaking of weapons!” Oscar drifted toward an old cabinet standing against the wall. It was a least six feet tall, with glass panes revealing shelved bottles of liquor. “This way, please. Follow me.”

  His translucent form glided through the glass, disappearing behind the wall. Loki charged after him, yelping as he leaped through the cabinet.

  “He knows we can’t do that, right?” I pushed out of my chair and limped toward the cabinet. Inside, the liquor bottles were covered in a thick layer of dust. They hadn’t been touched in ages. I opened the glass door and pressed against the back of the cabinet. If there was a hidden panel back there, it didn’t move.

  I shouted inside the hollow space, “Oscar, how do we get inside?”

  Oscar’s face poked through the wall, inches from mine. “Use the lever.” He disappeared again, but his voice echoed behind him. “I count the bottles, my dear, so don’t get any ideas. Some of those are hundred-year-old scotch.”

  I rolled my eyes and searched for the lever. All I got for my effort was dusty fingers and the urge to sneeze.

  Caden moved behind me. I felt the heat from his body and tensed as a little tingle of energy passed between us. His hand brushed my side. I jumped involuntarily, cursing under my breath from my awkwardness.

  “Relax, Graves. I’m just going for the lever,” he murmured. “Hunters are usually less jumpy.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m new at this.” Something clicked beneath his hand, and the shelves swung inward, revealing a dark, gaping hole.

  “After you.” He gave me a little nudge into the dark.

  “Gee, thanks, partner.”

  “Anytime. Afraid of the dark?”

  “Not at all. I just don’t want you to trip.”

  He chuckled low in his throat as lights flared to life in front of me. Sconces hung on the walls, and the room looked straight out of medieval times. Flames flickered, illuminating a wooden table and an empty iron rack. There were no windows. Cobwebs stretched over the items lying in a row on the table.

  “Welcome to our armory.” Oscar swung a hand toward the weapons.

  My lips curled in disgust. Were they rusted?

  A rat scurried across the table, and I stumbled back a step into Caden. His hands wrapped around my shoulders. Is he catching me or keeping me from bolting in the other direction? When he didn’t let go, I decided it was to keep me from bolting. I shuddered and cast my gaze to the floor, making sure there weren’t any other rodents.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Caden whispered.

  “That these boots are new, and I don’t want any rats chewing the leather?”

  “Okay, so I don’t know what you’re thinking.” He stomped his foot, sending a rat racing into the corner.

  I stepped out of his grip and approached the table. Brushing away a cobweb, I picked up one of the blades. The hilt crumbled in my hand.

  “I think this one’s broken. I think they’re all broken.” I scanned the room. “You know, in the movies, you press a button and hidden shelves appear with high-tech weapons. Some even come down from the ceiling. Do we have that here? Please tell me there’s a button.”

  “No, but we have something even better.” Oscar held up a finger and then walked through the wall.

  I tossed up my hands and huffed a breath. “He’s gone off again. Are we supposed to follow?”

  “Just wait,” Caden said.

  Loki ran around my ankles, barking loud enough to scare off a curious rodent. I smiled down at him and mimicked scratching him behind the ears. He probably couldn’t feel it, but he angled his head toward my fingers.

  “Good boy. Protect the leather.”

  A moment later, Oscar reappeared holding a long box. It glowed in his hands, not unlike his ghostly form. He nodded at Caden and held the box slightly above the table. “We placed a spell on this for safekeeping,” he said.

  Caden’s hands hovered over the box as he spoke an incantation. Energy swirled around him, making the flames flicker in the sconces. The box lost its ethereal glow and became solid, slipping through Oscar’s fingers. It landed with a hard thunk on the table. Caden opened the lid and stepped back so I could see inside.

  A silver blade rested against a velvet liner. At the base of the hilt was a glittering purple stone.

  “Is that a spellcaster rune?”

  “It is. Paired with the blade, the magic inside the stone will kill a demon, and the stone by itself can force a demon soul from its host. It’s a powerful weapon only given to a hunter. This one’s yours.” Oscar scratched under his mustache and gave me a pointed look. “It goes without saying, but don’t lose it.”

  I lifted the blade from the box, weighing it in my hand. It wasn’t very long and would conceal nicely in one of my boots. Magic flowed from the stone and up my arm, a pulse of energy shaking me to my core. All my life, I’d had magic coursing through my veins, but for the first time, I felt truly powerful.

  This must be how Ivy felt. Like she could conquer the world.

  There was a sharp pain in my chest, and the prick of tears returned. This job was dangerous, I knew that, but it always seemed like a game. How could it not when I’d trained with avatars from my bedroom? The books read like fairy tales, and my spells were practically a chemistry set for the magically inclined.

  This was real though. Someone had killed Ivy, and I had taken her place. Did they know how unprepared I was? Were they counting on it?

  “So, what now?” I asked, placing the blade back in its box.

  “Take a day or two,” Oscar said. “This is a change, I’m sure. We have an informant at the police station, and we’re waiting to get our hands on Professor Roberts’ f
ile. They will close the case as an accident and won’t be in our hair. After that, it’s up to you. Find her killer and bring them to justice. It won’t be easy, but you have our help. We’re a team, and we will get through this.”

  I glanced at Caden to gauge his reaction. His features were wiped of any expression, and I couldn’t get a read on him. This team had been put together out of necessity. We might be in this together, but we didn’t trust each other yet.

  Picking up the box with the demon blade, I tucked it under my arm and turned toward the hole in the wall. I paused when I realized Loki was trotting behind my heels.

  That’s right—he’s my familiar now. He’s supposed to come with me. I bit my tongue to keep from asking what you feed a ghost dog. Probably nothing. A pet perk that would be easy on my wallet.

  “Call me when you have the file. Let’s go, Loki.”

  The dog yelped in excitement and scampered after me through the cabinet door.

  Chapter 7

  Emotional support ghost dogs were the best. They didn’t judge when you were still dressed in yoga pants and sporting a messy bun well into the afternoon. And for the first time ever, I’d skipped my classes and hid like a hermit in my dorm room.

  Rain drizzled down the windowpane while I ate instant ramen from a cardboard cup. Loki was curled up by my feet, hovering on the edge of my bed. Every once in a while, he snored himself awake, perking up to scan the room for threats.

  Two days later, and I was still processing everything. My mother had taken the news as expected: she was horrified by what had happened to Ivy and equally horrified by my new position. She blamed herself for not taking the training more seriously. Apparently, if she ever dreamed this would happen, she would have sent me away to camp. Whatever that means. And it wasn’t as if we could have afforded to send me anywhere other than the playground, so it wouldn’t have made a difference.

  Either way, I should expect a package. If it wasn’t a box full of extra lucky rabbits’ feet, I didn’t want it. It was probably going to be more candles to add to the unburned collection in my closet.