by Lily Webb
Grandma appeared in the door that linked our offices with Luna at her feet. Grandma smiled soberly. “It’ll be fine, Sugar. You got this.”
“And hey, if worse comes to worst, we can always go back to the family farm,” Luna said, and a feeling of dread tumbled down my throat and anchored in the pit of my stomach. No matter which way the vote went — it still wasn’t clear — there would be serious ramifications, and the responsibility threatened to crush me.
Grandma scowled at the cat. “You ain’t helpin’, little missy.”
Luna trotted over to rub her head against my leg and I reached down to pet her. “Sorry, I was just kidding,” she said.
“I know, it’s okay. I’m fine.”
But I was far from fine. I’d known being Head Witch wouldn’t be an easy job, but I’d never dreamed a decision this huge would rest on my shoulders.
“I’ll be in the crowd if you need me, Zoe,” Grandma said, and while I appreciated the sentiment, it didn’t bring me much comfort.
“We should get going. It sounds like the gargoyles are already letting people in,” Heath said, peeking around the doorframe at the entrance to the town hall.
Sighing, I pushed myself out of my chair and fought back the dizziness that seized me. “Then let’s do what we have to do. Moon Grove is counting on us,” I said and strolled past Heath carrying myself as assertively as possible, trying to convince him and Grandma that I was more confident than I felt.
Silently, Heath and I walked side-by-side down the hallway with Grandma behind us. The sound of our footsteps bounced off the marble flooring and echoed in my ears, taunting me and threatening to drive me crazy.
We rounded the corner into the main chamber, and Grandma parted to take a seat in the audience. On the raised dais at the center of the room, ten of the thirteen council members had already gathered; besides me and Heath, Dawn was the only one missing, but that wasn’t unusual. At her age, she didn’t move quickly, and she never rushed for anyone — not even the Head Witch and Warlock.
Blaine Rathmore stared down at us from the dais, disdain coloring his already unpleasant face. “It’s about time,” he snapped.
Grace Magnus glared at him from two chairs down and shook her head. “Ignore him.”
I did, not least of all because there were journalists in the room, and something told me I’d need their favorable coverage to help me survive this ordeal. They must’ve heard by now what the Council had gathered to discuss; how couldn’t they have after Julien and his friends spread the word like a disease among their communities?
Christian Beaumont beamed and waved at me from the front row in a chair I’d often occupied when I worked for the Messenger. I waved back and smiled when I realized the vampire sitting next to him was someone I recognized: Marcel Desfleurs, a photographer for the vampire-owned magazine Grave Times. We hadn’t spoken in a while, but his presence pulled at the knot of dread in my stomach and began to untie it. At least I wouldn’t have to cast a vote without friendly faces to cheer me on.
Marcel raised his camera to snap a picture of me as I approached. His curly black hair dangled down into his eyes, making me wonder how he ever took a clear picture.
“Marcel, it’s nice to see you again,” I said as the flash popped. “Or it would’ve been if you hadn’t blinded me.”
Marcel chuckled and dropped the camera carelessly; it dangled from the strap looped around his neck and bounced against his rock solid chest. He pushed his spotted glasses up his nose and smiled. “Look at you, standing in front of me like some elected official,” he said.
“Aren’t I impressive in all my glory?” I asked as I blinked the spots away from my eyes and tried to focus on his face.
“I have to say, now that I see you in those fancy robes, the role suits you. It didn’t surprise me at all when I heard you’d won.”
I laughed. “Then you were the only one. I ran for office and even I didn’t see it coming.”
“Well, if I can believe what Christian here says, there’s no one better than you to lead this community forward.”
I glanced at Christian, who refused to meet my eyes, his cheeks on fire. “That wasn’t exactly what I said, but close enough,” Christian grumbled.
They might both feel differently by the time the meeting finished, but I couldn’t bring myself to say that.
“Honestly, I’m glad you’re both here. I don’t know how I would’ve handled unfriendly reporters in the room.”
Marcel raised his eyebrows at me. “Are you suggesting our coverage is biased?”
“Oh, come on, after everything we went through together with Hypnotic Tonics and the werewolves, how couldn’t it be?”
“You’d better not let anyone else hear you say that. I wouldn’t want people to think poorly of your connection to the media. Anyway, I’m just here to catch the fireworks on film.”
I turned to Christian and stared him straight in the eye. “Don’t learn from Marcel’s example. He’s the journalist you never want to be.”
“Duly noted,” Christian said, but Marcel winked at him and I knew I’d lost the greenhorn reporter to Marcel’s charms — not that I blamed him.
The chamber doors opened, interrupting our conversation, and warm afternoon light flooded inside, followed by Julien Delroy and the rest of his paranormal posse. Sam Duncan, Beau’s dad, was among them — which made me wonder, why wasn’t Beau here to cover the vote for Channel 666?
A tense silence swept through the room as Julien marched in a resplendent tailored suit toward the front row of seats, his red eyes glinting like rubies. Sam flashed me a warm smile and waved, but I couldn’t bring myself to return it.
Marcel chuckled. “Speaking of fireworks…”
I groaned. It made perfect sense for Julien and his friends to attend the meeting, but for whatever reason, it hadn’t crossed my mind they would be there watching and waiting to see what happened. My palms turned clammy, and I wiped them against my robes as casually as possible.
“Zoe,” Heath called from the dais.
“Duty calls, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Good luck, Councilwoman,” Christian said, flashing me his toothy, boyish smile.
I nodded and joined Heath and the rest of the Council on the dais where I sank into my high-backed chair, my eyes never leaving Julien. He and his friends sat just a few seats away from Christian and Marcel, and a smirk cracked Julien’s face as he crossed his arms over his chest like he was settling in to watch an episode of his favorite show.
“Don’t let him intimidate you, Zoe,” Heath whispered in my ear. That was easy for him to say. This vote was probably one in a string of difficult decisions Heath had had to make in his tenure as Head Warlock, and that was the problem; the gulf of experience between the two of us made the meeting much more intimidating for me.
Still, I nodded and sat straight and confidently. It didn’t come naturally, but as I stared into the taunting maroon pits that were Julien’s eyes, something sparked inside me, something that wanted to prove to him and everyone else gathered that I wasn’t a pushover.
I glanced left and right up the table and frowned when I realized Dawn still hadn’t joined us. It was normal for her to take a little longer than everyone else, but not like this.
“Where’s Dawn?” I whispered to Heath.
His brows crinkled, and he shrugged. “I’m not sure, but she’d better hurry. Today of all days isn’t a great one for her to be late.”
We waited for what seemed like an eternity as the chamber filled with members from all of Moon Grove’s paranormal communities: vampires, werewolves, shifters, fairies, and more, all gathered in the same place like some kind of circus. So many attendees filed in that eventually we ran out of seats, forcing people to stand along the sides and in the aisles between chairs. Eventually, the gargoyles had to refuse people’s entry. Julien and his friends had definitely done a good job of letting people know about the vote.
But after ten minutes
had passed and we still hadn’t started the meeting, the dull buzz of the crowd’s chatter gradually grew to a deafening din. Even they realized something wasn’t right.
With a concerned look on his face, Heath drew his wand from a pocket in his sleeve and held its tip to his throat. “Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen,” his voice boomed magically throughout the chamber, bringing everyone to attention. “We’re still waiting for one of our members, so please have patience. It shouldn’t be much longer. As soon as Councilwoman Bloodworth joins us, we’ll get underway.”
He tucked his wand away and leaned over to me as the crowd erupted in chatter again. “I don’t like this. I’ve worked with Dawn for years and she’s never been this late.”
“Maybe you should send someone to check on her,” I said, doing my best to ignore the anxious, gnawing tickle at the back of my throat.
Out in the crowd, Julien exchanged puzzled looks with his friends. They seemed as confused as we were, though I wasn’t sure if that should comfort me.
Heath flagged down Vaxis, the grizzled captain of the Council’s gargoyle guard. He lumbered over to the dais and made his way behind it to lean down beside Heath. “Yes, Mr. Highmore?”
“I’m concerned about Councilwoman Bloodworth. Check her office and make sure everything is okay, please.” Vaxis nodded and stomped away, resolute. Julien watched the gargoyle closely, making me wish Heath had been more discreet.
“What should we do in the meantime?” I asked.
“Keep your game face on. We don’t want anyone in the crowd to think anything is wrong, even if there is,” he said and the knot in my stomach writhed, coiling like a threatened serpent.
As I scanned the crowd, I spotted Grandma Elle in one of the closest rows of seats. “What’s going on?” she mouthed, but I shook my head once to deter her, hoping no one else noticed. Vaxis returned alone a few moments later, his face blank, and I braced myself as he leaned between me and Heath to deliver the news.
“She wasn’t there,” the gargoyle whispered.
“What? Then where is she? She knows we’re voting today,” Heath said.
“Maybe she stayed home in protest or something?” I suggested, but Heath shook his head.
“No. Dawn has never once missed a vote, not even when she didn’t agree with the issue at hand. This isn’t like her.”
“Should we call her house just in case?” I asked, at a loss, but Heath never had time to answer. The chamber doors burst open and a frantic warlock entered, his grey hair flying in all directions as two gargoyle guards pursued him. He froze in the center of the aisle and let out a little whimper.
“Dear Lilith,” Heath gasped, gripping the table.
“What? Who is it?”
“Regan Bloodworth, Dawn’s husband,” he said. “Come with me, Zoe.” Without waiting for an answer, he commanded the guards to leave Regan alone and raced to meet him with me and Vaxis on his heels.
“Mr. Highmore, we have to talk, I—”
“Not here,” Heath interrupted and pulled Regan by the arm out of the chamber into the hallway. Anxious whispers followed us, but Heath paid them no mind. “What is it?” he hissed. “What happened?”
Regan choked on a sob and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Dawn’s missing. She wasn’t home when I woke up this morning, but I assumed she’d gone to work early so I didn’t think anything of it. But she didn’t answer any of my calls so I got concerned and came straight here, and when I saw her chair was empty, I…” he trailed, covering his mouth as another sob came.
Heath flashed me a horrified look. “Have you seen her today?”
“No,” I whispered.
The color drained from Heath’s face. “Neither have I,” he said and Regan wailed. “When was the last time you saw your wife?”
“Last night before bed. We told each other good night like we always do.”
“And nothing seemed unusual then or this morning?”
“No, nothing. She wasn’t in bed when I woke up, but that’s normal. She often gets up before me, and her work robes weren’t there so I assumed she’d left early,” Regan said.
“Her office looked undisturbed,” Vaxis said. “If I had to guess, I’d say she was never here today.”
Then something must’ve happened to her on her way to work. She’d left home but never made it to the town hall.
“Who’s her guard? Wouldn’t they have been with her?” I asked. Vaxis looked away, ashamed, and my chest clenched. “Someone guarded her, right?”
Vaxis shook his head. “No. She refused.”
“Dawn thought it might scare the population if a gargoyle trailed her everywhere. She didn’t want them to think there was any reason for her to worry,” Heath said. Evidently, she was wrong.
Regan sobbed. “You don’t think something happened to her, do you?” he asked, his pitch climbing with each word.
A dark thought struck me, and my mouth fired before I could catch myself. “Mr. Bloodworth, do you have any idea how your wife planned to vote today?”
Regan looked at me like I’d asked the most inane, insensitive question in the world. “What does that have to do with any of this?”
“Everything,” I said, more convinced of it as I spoke. I didn’t know Dawn well, but based on the limited interactions I’d had with her, it wouldn’t have surprised me if she voted against expanding the Council. If that were true, and if the Council’s opinion on the issue was as divided as I thought it was, Dawn might’ve been the swing “no” vote — and I probably wasn’t the first one to figure that out.
Heath fixed me with his piercing eyes. “What are you suggesting, Zoe?”
“That someone’s trying to influence the vote.”
“By kidnapping my wife? That’s ridiculous. Why would anyone do that?” Regan demanded.
“Because without her vote, the proposal to expand the Council would pass and there are definitely people here who don’t want that to happen,” I said.
Heath shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t. We don’t know how Dawn would’ve voted, but even if we did, the Council can’t vote on anything, large or small, if even one member isn’t present. It’s protocol.”
“Right, but does everyone in town know that? Probably not. What if someone took her to force us to drop the issue or distract from it?”
It sounded far-fetched, even I had to admit that, but I couldn’t think of anything else that could’ve happened.
“Let’s not get carried away,” Heath said and rested a hand on Regan’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, don’t worry. For now, why don’t you wait in my office? We’ll make an announcement and send everyone home so we can talk more and figure this out.”
Regan nodded, dazed, and Vaxis escorted him down the hall to Heath’s office.
“Do you really think someone might’ve attacked Dawn?” Heath asked when we were alone, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“Maybe. We can’t rule it out. But given that Regan was the last person to see her, I think we have to start by questioning him.”
Heath’s face hardened, but he nodded. “Come on. The longer we’re away, the worse the rumors will get.”
“What are we going to tell everyone?”
“The truth. One of the council members is missing and we’re postponing the vote until we find her.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Won’t that scare them?”
“Yes, and it should. Let’s go,” he said and stormed down the hallway in a swish of robes. I chased after him, and when we re-entered the chamber, it was Julien whose eyes caught mine first. A chill swept over me as I retook my seat on the dais. The other council members seemed as lost, confused, and concerned as the audience, but had done a better job of covering it up.
Heath pulled out his wand to enhance his voice magically again. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry for the disturbance and the delay in explaining it. It’s come to our attention that Councilwoman Bloodworth is missing,” he said, and
a collective gasp tore through the room. “As an unfortunate result, we must delay today’s vote until we find her.”
Julien leaped from his seat, outraged, and charged out of the chamber. His gang trailed after him, and though I wanted to talk to Julien more than anyone else about Dawn’s disappearance — even more than her husband — I had to let the vampire go for now.
Without another word, Heath pushed back from the table and left for his office, Vaxis at his side. I followed and as I rounded the dais, a camera flashed. I looked up to find Marcel smiling at me, his camera raised. Christian sat frozen beside him, his hand clutching a pen like his life depended on it.
“Some fireworks, huh?” Marcel shouted over the noise of the crowd behind him. “Maybe you and I will get to work together on another investigation soon.”
I left the chamber without answering, determined to find Dawn before her disappearance became a full-blown political disaster.
Chapter Five
When I walked into Heath’s library-like office, I found Regan sitting at a wide mahogany desk staring at the plush, carpeted floor. His face was ashen, his eyes wet, puffy, and red. Heath had been pacing the room but stopped as soon as I entered.
“Has he told you anything else?” I whispered, careful not to let Regan overhear.
Heath scratched his chin in frustration. “No. He hasn’t said a word.” I couldn’t blame the poor guy. I wouldn’t have known what to say if I were in his robes either. “Maybe you could draw him out?”
“It’s worth a shot.” I walked over and sat on the corner of Heath’s desk, careful not to knock down any of the stacks of paper lining it. “Mr. Bloodworth?”
Regan looked up at me as if waking from a trance. Confusion passed over his face for a moment until he remembered who I was. He straightened up in the chair and sniffed.
“Yes?”
“I know this isn’t easy for you — it isn’t for us, either — but I need to ask you some questions and I need you to answer them honestly, okay?”
Regan’s lip trembled like he might start crying again, but he nodded. “I will, I swear. If it will help us find Dawn, I’ll tell you any and everything you want to know.”
