Spellbound After Midnight (Ever Dark, Ever Deadly Book 1)

by Jenna Collett

  I clenched the handrails of the chair. Had they discovered my connection to Argus? I’d underestimated what working with the newspaper would mean. My life had become fair game and fodder for the gossip section.

  “I can’t imagine what you’ve found, Mr. Lincoln. My past hasn’t been that interesting.”

  John laughed and read from the notebook. “Not according to our sources. They make your life sound very interesting. A comedy of errors, in fact. It’s amazing, the people who come out of the woodwork hoping to cash in on someone’s reputation. And yours, Miss Daniels…” He winced.

  A buzzing sounded in my ears. Derrick spoke, his lips moving, but I couldn’t make out the words.

  “Take the barn fire on Stratford road about seven years back. The owners claim you were channeling energy for a prosperous harvest and you lit a haystack on fire. Luckily, your mother was there to supervise, or they would have lost everything. She paid them not to press charges.”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “That was an accident.”

  “Maybe so, but what about the time you turned a young man into a mouse when he made an advance on you? We have a source willing to come forward. He alleges it took you three days to change him back. His family put up missing posters. How much did it take to keep them quiet?”

  Heat crawled up my neck. It had taken quite a bit. I’d sold a large sum of my mother’s books that day, and speculation had followed me for months.

  John flipped the page in the notebook. “There are numerous complaints of spells gone wrong.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and squinted at the page. “Do you know a Mrs. Anderson? She claims a couple of weeks ago, you turned her hair green then refused to refund her money.”

  “That’s not what happened!”

  The notebook snapped closed, and John raised his hand. “Miss Daniels, you’re welcome to share your side of the story. It will round out the article. I already have an idea for a headline.” He arched his hand through the air. “I’m thinking, Disgraced Witch Embarrasses Family Name and Endangers Society. What do you think?”

  My whole body went rigid. A sly smile played around John’s lips. It was obvious what he was really after: leverage. Apparently, certain men in my life thought they could use me for their own purposes. First, Argus, and now, John Lincoln. I burned with humiliation and a profound helplessness.

  Derrick remained quiet, letting the scene play out. I wasn’t sure if his silence made me feel better or worse. Either way, I couldn’t look at him. My mediocre magic wasn’t a secret, but when you put all my destruction together, it painted a vivid picture.

  Worthless witch.

  “What do you want?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  John rubbed his hands together and snickered. “I’ll run your ad and the article on the slipper for the front page. It’s a great idea. But you have to understand, I’m in a tough position. I can’t sit on a story like this. I’ll need something bigger to replace it.” His gaze narrowed. “Confirm whether you’re looking at multiple victims, and I’ll bury every last salacious account of your shameful past.

  I shot out of my chair. “No wa—”

  “Fine.” Derrick stood and grasped my arm, squeezing gently to keep me quiet. “I’ll have a statement sent over. Run the stories and keep Miss Daniels’ personal life out of your paper, or you’ll deal with me.”

  John inclined his head, victory stamped across his face. “Pleasure doing business with you, Detective.”

  Derrick slammed the office door on John’s words. It barely made a sound over the commotion in the newsroom, but we walked quickly through the maze of desks and out into the street.

  Outside, I shook off Derrick’s arm and kept moving, my steps stilted and angry. How dare he jeopardize the case for something so stupid? It was my fault we were even in this situation! If only I’d been better…different. How many times would I go through this before I learned my lesson?

  “Tessa, wait.” He chased after me, weaving through the thick crowd.

  Hot tears gathered under my eyes as shame prickled my skin. A carriage clattered across the street, and I plunged ahead, missing the wheels by inches and making Derrick wait for it to pass. I thought I’d lost him until his hand clamped over my shoulder. Frustration surged through my body, and I whirled.

  “Are you crazy? You shouldn’t have done that!”

  “Do you have a death wish? That carriage almost hit you.” His chest rose on an angry breath, and he dragged me off the street and down a side lane where we wouldn’t be overheard.

  Shaking him loose again, I tried to barrel past, but he blocked my attempt. My throat was so tight it hurt to speak.

  “Let me go.”

  “Not a chance.”

  I inhaled roughly through my nose, trying to rein in my emotions. It didn’t work.

  “What is wrong with you? You should have let him print those stories about my past. It doesn’t matter what people think about me, they already have a low opinion. Seeing it in print isn’t going to change anything.”

  He reached for me, but I stepped back, certain if he touched me I’d burst into tears.

  “Tessa, I swore I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and that includes letting John Lincoln run a smear campaign in your name.”

  I threw up my hands and laughed, the harsh sound echoing through the narrow alley. “Well, your misplaced protectiveness gave away valuable information. It was my shortcomings that jeopardized this case. You shouldn’t have agreed to his ultimatum. I’m not worth it. I never have been.”

  A look passed over Derrick’s face, disbelief morphing into resolve. This time, when he reached for me, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. His palm cupped the back of my head, and he hauled me to him, crushing me against his chest. He was warm and solid, and I felt myself crumbling, all of my defenses laid to waste. The rough timbre of his voice sounded in my ear.

  “Don’t ever say that. You are worth it. I would have given up a lot more if I had to, and even if there was nothing I could do, if they printed those stories, it wouldn’t matter to me. Your past doesn’t define you. You are so much more than just your spells.”

  His words reshaped something inside me. They were hard to believe after years of self-doubt, but I wanted to. I wanted to believe them so much it terrified me to my core.

  I wiped the tears from my cheeks and took a shuddering breath, my voice watery when I spoke. “I’m sorry I got angry. I couldn’t handle it if I ruined this case for you, not after Sophie and everything your family has been through.”

  He tightened his hold and rested his chin on top of my head. “We’ve gotten this far because of you. You didn’t ruin anything. Admitting there are multiple victims won’t jeopardize the case, it might even provide new leads. Using the paper was smart. We just need to stay focused and let your plan work.”

  “I hate waiting,” I grumbled into his shirt.

  “Yeah, I know. Patience, Tessa.” He rubbed the tension from the back of my neck.

  We stood there for a few moments, letting the stress from the last hour pass. My humiliation had simmered down to a manageable level, but mostly, I felt cared-for and instilled with a new sense of hope. More than my spells? No one had ever made the distinction.

  Noise from the street leaked into our solitude. Derrick sighed and brushed the hair away from my face.

  “I think we need a break. It’s been a rough couple of days, don’t you agree? We’ve seen ghosts and dealt with weaselly newspapermen and threatening slippers.”

  “I went swimming in the palace fountain.”

  “Don’t remind me. I think you mean, you nearly drowned in the palace fountain.”

  “That’s not what happened.” I swatted his shoulder, but he caught my hand and pressed his lips against my fingers.

  “Let me take you to lunch.”

  I gasped in mock horror. “Are you seriously suggesting a leisure activity? Are you ill?” My palm covered his forehead. “Maybe you’re hear
ing voices?”

  “Neither, so forget about carting me off to the asylum.” He winked. “I just happen to enjoy a nice meal of rosemary chicken and glazed potatoes now and then.”

  “Hey…” I nudged his shoulder. “How did you know that’s my favorite meal?”

  Derrick shrugged. “Your neighbor told me. Sylvia Trager stopped by my office after she saw the article about us. She said it didn’t matter that I was good looking, well-off, or had a prestigious title, she’d whack me with her cane if I treated you poorly.”

  Leave it to Sylvia to get her point across. I stifled a smile.

  “Ah, everything makes sense now. You’re scared of a little old lady.”

  “Yeah, and you’re scared of her cat, so I guess we’re even.”

  “That’s fair,” I chuckled, as he took my hand and walked us back out into the street.

  We settled inside the cozy confines of the Spice and Crown restaurant, each placing an order for their roast chicken. I inhaled the delectable scents that wafted out of the kitchen and took a sip of my wine. It was a strange feeling to be seated across the table from Derrick, the same man who, not long ago, I’d considered cursing. In fact, I was pretty sure I had placed a curse on the woman who would end up falling for such an ogre.

  Irony certainly knew where I lived.

  All around us, other diners whispered, a few even pointing in our direction. Under normal circumstances, I would have ducked under the tablecloth, but not anymore. Take a good look, ladies. This witch is trying to do things differently.

  Derrick dipped a slice of crusty bread in a dish of seasoned oil and took a bite. Chewing thoughtfully, he sipped his wine then narrowed his eyes.

  “So, tell me, which of your suitors did you turn into a mouse? Was it Trevor, the baker’s son, or that other guy, the blacksmith’s apprentice?”

  So much for not wanting to climb under the tablecloth. “Neither.”

  He frowned and thumped a finger against his wineglass. “If not them, who? Don’t make me open up an investigation.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a good use of agency resources, Detective.”

  He cleared his throat, and I huffed a breath at his stubborn look.

  “Why do you even want to know?”

  “It’s one less rival I have to worry about.”

  My cheeks were on fire. “Don’t joke like that. People will hear you.”

  “Tessa—”

  “If you really want to talk about rivals, look around. You can’t move left or right without some overeager debutante fawning at your feet.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off me even though I was right. Was he blind? If he threw a breadstick, a suitable candidate would probably catch it in her teeth like a devoted puppy. I groaned internally and forced myself to relax my grip on the wineglass before it shattered.

  The corner of his mouth lifted, the smile almost wistful. “You never fawn at my feet.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “Not as much as I thought I’d be. You’re—”

  I held up a hand. “Wait, I know this one. I’m different. Abrams told me. Another one of your charming compliments. I’m storing it away along with fine so I can swoon later.”

  His laughter resonated through the room, and at nearby tables, forks clattered against dinnerware. What? Had no one ever heard the man laugh before?

  Our food arrived. The heavenly scent made my eyes close in bliss. A comfortable silence followed while we dug in, and I tried to think of something to talk about that didn’t involve murder or magic.

  Fiddling with the corner of my napkin, I began uneasily, “Um…tell me about your parents. What are they like?”

  “Overbearing.” Derrick chuckled and sliced a knife through his chicken. “My father ran a shipbuilding company until he retired, and now, he and my mother live in the country, driving my grandfather Edward crazy by keeping him in line. He’s a loose cannon and always stirring up trouble. You two are similar. You’ll like him.”

  I choked on a mouthful of wine. Meet his family? They’d run in the opposite direction the moment he introduced a witch. I let his statement pass, feigning interest in the potatoes. After spearing one with my fork, I looked up and met the stare of a burly man seated at a table in the corner, chewing on a hunk of beef. Another bite…chew…stare. It was one of Argus’s thugs.

  Derrick followed my gaze. “Do you know that man?” he asked.

  Denial sat on my tongue, but I hesitated. Vivian had said I needed to trust Derrick and tell him everything. After his reaction to my past failures, maybe she was right. Maybe it was time.

  “Actually, I have something I need to tell you. I shouldn’t have kept this from you, but I didn’t know how—”

  There was a commotion at the entrance, and Abrams approached our table. “There you are!” He was out of breath, his chest heaving as if he’d run a distance.

  Derrick cast me a sympathetic look. “One moment, Tessa.” He turned his attention to Abrams. “What’s happened?”

  “You’re needed at the palace, Detective.” He paused to catch his breath. “They’ve found another body.”

  Chapter 22

  Buzzards circled overhead, their wings black smudges in the cloudy sky. In the distance, an orchard dotted the landscape, and the palace spires rose above the trees. I waded through the tall grass toward a group of officers who stood around the perimeter of the scene. The air was crisp, with a hint of wood smoke and decaying leaves.

  “Who found the body?” Derrick asked.

  “A couple of servants working in the orchard.” Abrams pointed to the three young men waiting with one of the guards. Their faces were drawn and pale, and one held his stomach as if he might lose its contents if he put his arms down.

  “Cause of death?”

  “It appears to be a stab wound to the chest. No visible murder weapon.”

  “Has anyone made an identification?”

  Abrams consulted his notes. “Yes. The servants recognized him. His name was Liam Barber, also a palace servant.”

  “Liam Barber?” I froze, remembering the young man’s face when he’d confronted me outside the agency. His fear had been palpable, and he’d risked coming forward with information that had raised suspicions about the prince. Guilt crashed through me. Someone had silenced him.

  Derrick caught my eye and gave a subtle shake of his head, signaling me to stay quiet. “Are there any other witnesses?” he asked.

  “Yes, Detective.” Abrams lowered his voice. “Some kitchen staff saw Liam having a confrontation with Prince Marcus yesterday evening. The king has been informed, and as a precaution, he’s placed his son under guard. He wants to speak with you as soon as you’re finished here.”

  “I understand. Clear the scene and gather the witnesses at the palace. I’ll question them there. Also, arrange for the body to be transferred once we finish examining the area.”

  Abrams hesitated at Derrick’s orders. “I can stay and collect evidence.”

  “That’s not necessary. I have Miss Daniels for that.”

  Abrams clenched his jaw and shot me a dark look. I remembered our first encounter and the way he’d idolized Derrick. He’d wanted to follow in his footsteps, but I’d charged into the middle, sidelining him in a way he probably hadn’t expected. Our interactions had always been friendly, but now, I felt the first indication of his contempt. Part of me wanted to say something to ease the tension, but I remembered the way he’d gripped my arm outside of Vivian’s, his anger rising so fast. Maybe it was best if I waited until he left to speak with Derrick.

  His lips curled in a sardonic smile. “As you wish, Detective.”

  He motioned for the guards to follow him and went to speak with the witnesses. I was the only one who noticed his stilted steps and rigid back.

  “You shouldn’t dismiss him like that, he only wants to help. His outburst at Vivian’s was meant to protect you from the big, bad witch and her ghosthunting friend. You shouldn’t punish
him for it.”

  Derrick sighed. “I know, but we need to tighten the flow of information. There are only a few people who know Liam approached you. He may have been followed that day. There’s already been a threat against you, not to mention the fountain incident with the prince. You said he might have been holding you under.”

  “I don’t know that for sure, and he helped me get out. Don’t forget that.”

  “Doesn’t matter. After this, there will be questions, and once the news is released about the additional victims, people will be scared. The fact that the king placed his son under guard means the focus of the investigation will change. It will be up to us to either clear his name or condemn it. It’s about to get ugly.” Derrick motioned toward the scene. “Are you ready for this? You can stay here while I examine the body.”

  I swallowed my nerves and exhaled a shaky breath. “No. Liam came to me. I owe it to him to do everything I can to bring his killer to justice.”

  “All right, here.” He handed me his notebook. “You can take notes. If you need a moment, let me know, and we’ll stop.”

  “Quit worrying, I’m fine. Now, get to work. The agency doesn’t pay you to hover around me.”

  “Very funny.” Derrick stepped into the clearing, noting the trampled grass. “Looks like the killer dragged the body through here—there are wheel tracks in the mud. He was likely moved to this location in a cart. We’ll need to see if we can track it down. Liam wasn’t murdered here, there’s not enough blood.”

  I stayed in Derrick’s footsteps, careful not to disturb the scene. “Abrams said they didn’t find a murder weapon, but it could have been tossed anywhere in this field. The grass is high enough we wouldn’t be able to see it.”

  “Good point. We’ll have to set up a grid search. Make note of that.”

  “There wasn’t a rose this time either.”

  “This was a different sort of killing, reactionary, not part of the original plan. The roses are personal. He selects those victims for a reason.” Derrick bent over the body. “No defensive wounds. There doesn’t seem to have been a violent struggle.”