“Hey, sexy red witch.” He nodded toward me. “Don’t recognize you.”
“She’s a friend,” Ginger said. “We’d like two lattes, one with a shot of unicorn horn and the other with a shot of empowerment.”
Henrik’s eyes bulged. “Going for the big stuff this early, huh? Got an important meeting?”
Ginger bumped me with her hip. “This one does.” She studied the food behind the glass. “And I’ll have a wistberry muffin and she’ll have a fill-me cake.”
“What’s a fill-me cake?” I asked quietly.
“It’ll keep you going,” Ginger said. “If the council meeting goes on for as long as I think it will, you’ll be starving without something like this.”
“Okay, thanks.” I looked around the room for an empty table. There weren’t many, given the early hour.
“There’s a free booth.” Ginger pointed across the room. By the time I turned back around, our entire order was ready.
“You weren’t kidding,” I said. “He is fast.”
“Thanks, love,” Henrik said.
We didn’t need to carry a thing. They floated along beside us until we reached our table and then the items set themselves down in front of us.
“Amazing,” I breathed.
“I bet you’ll be saying that a lot here,” Ginger predicted.
The cake and latte were delicious. The top of my latte was even decorated with a white heart in foam.
“How did he know?” I asked.
Ginger looked blank. “Know what?”
“My mom’s last name was White and my dad’s was Hart.” I showed her the inside of the mug. “Is he a wizard or something?”
“No, he’s a berserker.”
I wasn’t sure what that was, but it sounded crazy.
“Everyone gets a heart on their latte. It’s one of Henrik’s signatures.”
“Oh.”
Something clattered to the floor beside my feet.
“There goes my wand,” Ginger groaned. “Would you mind picking it up for me?”
A real witch’s wand. I bent over and plucked the wand off the floor. It was prettier than I expected. Butter yellow with a brown leather band around the wider end.
I handed the wand back to Ginger.
“Thanks,” she said, and tucked the wand in the back of her yoga pants.
A set of familiar pink wings fluttered between tables, heading our way.
“I think it might be time for me to go,” I said.
Ginger craned her neck to see Lucy. “Finish up. If you’re going before the council, you don’t want to waste a drop of empowerment.”
I tipped back the mug and sucked down every last drop. It was delicious. And empowering.
I hoped.
Chapter Three
The council convened in a building aptly called the Great Hall. If my future weren’t hanging in the balance, I would have taken pleasure in admiring the beautiful architecture. With its curved archways and marble floors, it was closer to a palace than an administrative building.
I sat alone on a bench in the grand lobby, waiting to be summoned. The plan seemed to be that they would decide my fate and then clue me in afterward.
Every few minutes I heard yelling and pounding from inside. My case appeared to be a contentious one. Not only were my palms sweating, but my chest and the back of my neck had joined the fun too. The council might decide to throw me to the werewolves based on my shattered appearance alone.
Finally the doors opened and Lucy flew out of the closed chambers. She zipped over to me, her wings fluttering rapidly. She looked every inch as nervous as I did. At least I knew fairies could feel empathy. Maybe Mayor Knightsbridge would show the same degree of care.
“They’re ready for you, Miss Hart.”
I checked the clock on the nearby wall. Hours had passed since Lucy brought me here. I wondered if I’d have somewhere to sleep tonight. Not that it would happen easily. Anxiety kept me awake on a normal night and this was far from it.
She brought me to the oversized double doors. “I’d sprinkle fairy dust on you, but I don’t have any on me.”
I assumed that was a way of wishing me luck.
“I hope you get paid overtime,” I said, and stepped inside.
I recognized the mayor from our earlier meeting, but that was the only familiar face. It felt like a congressional hearing, with the council members seated at a long table on an elevated dais. Lucy showed me where to sit, although it was fairly obvious since it was the only available chair. An image of an electric chair flashed in my mind and my heart seized.
Seven sets of eyes watched me carefully as I took my seat.
Mayor Knightsbridge spoke first. “Miss Hart, welcome to the Great Hall of Spellbound. Allow me to introduce the council.” She gestured to the male on her right. He was a stocky man with exaggerated facial features. “Wayne Stone is our resident number cruncher. In other words, he handles the budget. He’s also an accountant, should you find yourself in need of one.”
“He’s a troll,” Lucy whispered from behind me.
That explained the cave-dwelling vibe I got from him.
“Lorenzo Mancini is the leader of the werewolf pack,” the mayor continued. “He’s also a successful businessman in town.”
I would have guessed werewolf for Lorenzo. He was exactly how I imagined a werewolf in human form would look. Dark, muscled, and oozing raw sensuality. He was dressed in an expensive-looking navy blue suit with a red tie. His gold cufflinks glittered in the artificial light.
My attention moved on to the man beside Mancini. With his pallid complexion and air of superiority, he had vampire written all over him.
“Lord Lewis Gilder is a highly respected member of the community,” Mayor Knightsbridge said.
Lord Gilder lowered his head in acknowledgment and I found myself mirroring his movement. Was he exercising some kind of mind control? Was that allowed during an official procedure?
“Maeve McCullen is the owner and operator of Spellbound’s premiere theater. If you enjoy live performances, it’s well worth a visit.”
“Banshee,” Lucy whispered. I wasn’t sure what a banshee was. I remembered a story from my childhood about a wailing spirit in Ireland who appeared whenever someone died, but I wasn’t sure if that was accurate.
“And this is Juliet Montlake. She owns the local bookstore and is incredibly knowledgeable about the history of Spellbound and its variety of inhabitants. Should you have questions, she’s a fine resource.”
Juliet was tall with broad shoulders and thick chestnut-colored hair. She seemed the friendliest of the bunch.
“Amazon,” Lucy said, ever helpful.
“And, finally, I would like to introduce Lady J.R. Weatherby, leader of the coven.”
Lady Weatherby was an imposing figure, even while seated. She wore a flowing white robe, a silver headdress with horns curving upward, and a red statement necklace around her throat. Her dark hair hung loose along her shoulders. She reminded me of Cleopatra.
Lady Weatherby glowered at me from beneath the twisted horns of her headdress and the hair on the back of my neck prickled.
“Now to the business at hand,” Mayor Knightsbridge said. “I’m sure you have many questions about the town and how we came to be contained here.”
Contained. An interesting choice of words.
Maeve poked her head forward and faced the mayor. “If I may, Madam Mayor.”
“Yes, please do,” Mayor Knightsbridge said. “Maeve always tells the story best.”
Maeve stood, her strawberry blond ringlets bouncing around her shoulders. “Once upon a time, there was a lovely town called Ridge Valley where supernaturals came and went as they pleased.”
“There are towns full of supernaturals all over the world,” Wayne interjected. “They’re hidden from human sight.”
So Spellbound wasn’t the only one. Wow. Mind blown.
“One day,” Maeve continued, in an animated voice en
tirely suitable for the stage, “an enchantress arrived in town in the guise of an ugly old woman, seeking shelter from a storm. The legend states that, although she knocked on many doors that night, none were opened to her. Enraged, she cursed the town, making sure that the residents of Ridge Valley would never be able to leave its borders and spread their selfishness and greed to other towns.”
“It is only a legend, mind you,” Lord Gilder stated. “No one knows for certain.”
“Another story suggests that her heart was broken by someone in the town,” Juliet said, “and she cursed the borders so he could never leave, but the curse ended up trapping the rest of the inhabitants as well.”
“Eventually,” Maeve said, “Ridge Valley became known as Spellbound.” She spread her arms. “And here we remain.”
And I thought I was unlucky.
Mayor Knightsbridge addressed me. “Do you have any questions so far, Miss Hart?”
How much time did they have?
“Why does no one know for certain?” I asked. “Weren’t you all here when it happened?” The beings seemed to be either immortal or ones with very long life spans.
“Not all of us,” the mayor said. “Several generations have been born here since the curse.”
“And those of us old enough to have been here at the time of the enchantress,” Lord Gilder interrupted, “do not know or recall the particulars of the event. One day we could leave at will, and then we could not.”
“Is there a way to break the curse?” I asked. The town was full of witches and fairies. Surely they had skills comparable to an enchantress.
“Not that we’ve found so far or we wouldn’t be here, would we?” the mayor said.
“So it’s basically a magical Guantanamo,” I said.
“Pardon?” the mayor said.
Clearly she wasn’t familiar with the U.S. detention camp.
“Okay, maybe more like Phantom Zone,” I said. “You know, the prison dimension in Superman.”
Mayor Knightsbridge narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand the words you’re saying.”
I tried again. “Azkaban?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “That’s a book, dear. Fictional.”
“Are you equating Spellbound with Tartarus?” Juliet asked.
I recognized that name from the Greek myths. It was the place where wicked people were sent to live the rest of their lives in suffering and torment.
“She wouldn’t dare,” Mayor Knightsbridge said with a dismissive flick of her fingers. “That place is a pit of despair. We have all the modern conveniences.”
All the modern conveniences? They didn’t appear to have television or the internet. What did she consider modern—indoor plumbing?
“Ooh,” Maeve said, bouncing in her seat a little. “I’ve got one. Perhaps we’re like Australia but without the koalas.”
“No,” Wayne said. “Remember Hester has a koala.”
“I believe we’re getting off track,” the mayor said. The gavel in front of her lifted and banged on the sound block without anyone touching it.
She was right. I gathered my courage and spoke. “So what’s going to happen to me? Am I able to leave?”
Mayor Knightsbridge steepled her fingers. “No, dear. It simply isn’t possible.”
“Because I’m…I’m one of you?” The reality hadn’t settled in yet. I wasn’t sure if it ever would.
“You are a witch,” Lady Weatherby said. “We confirmed it before you arrived for this meeting.”
“Confirmed it how?” I asked.
“The latte you drank earlier included a potion called Reveal,” Lady Weatherby explained. “Ginger slipped it in when you weren’t looking. She’s a rather accomplished witch for someone of her age.”
“How does it reveal that I’m a witch?” I asked. “Is there a report somewhere?”
Lady Weatherby suppressed a smile. “You are the report, Miss Hart. If the person who drinks the potion glows purple, then she is a witch.”
“You’ve been glowing purple since you left Brew-Ha-Ha,” Lucy whispered behind me.
I held out my hands in front of me. Sure enough, I detected a purplish haze.
“But this isn’t possible,” I said, trying to rub the purple off my hands. “I would have known.”
“Whether you knew it or not is irrelevant,” Lady Weatherby said. “You will learn witchcraft like every young witch in the coven.”
Learn witchcraft? “You mean you’re going to send me to school?” Between college and law school, I’d had quite enough formal education, thank you very much.
“The Arabella St. Simon Academy for Witches is an excellent institution,” Lady Weatherby said.
“The ASS Academy?” I asked, gobsmacked. “You cannot be serious.”
Lady Weatherby fixed me with her hard stare and I involuntarily shuddered. “I am as serious as a headstone.”
Okay, a headstone sounded pretty serious.
“Where will I live?” I asked. “Is there a dormitory?” The thought of bunking with a room full of younger witches set my teeth on edge.
The council sat in collective silence.
Finally Lady Weatherby spoke. “She won’t be permitted to live with the coven until she’s completed her training. Standard protocol.” She faced me. “Younger witches usually live at home during their early education.”
And I was homeless.
“There is an available house…” Maeve trailed off, afraid to finish the thought.
Everyone’s eyes widened.
“It does make the most sense,” Lord Gilder said. “The place will sit empty otherwise. Gareth didn’t have any heirs. His property will simply revert to the town.”
“She’ll need to pay rent,” Wayne said. “She can’t live off the town for free.”
“Never mind the money right now.” The mayor looked thoughtful. “She claims to have been a lawyer in the human world.”
All eyes turned back to me.
“We do need an urgent replacement for Gareth,” Lorenzo said. “He was in the middle of a trial. Mumford has been quite upset about the whole affair. He wants the trial over and done with.”
“I don’t blame him,” Wayne said. “The case against him is flimsy at best.”
“Um, excuse me,” I said, raising my hand. “But I don’t know the first thing about being a criminal defense attorney.”
“You know how to stand in front of a judge, don’t you?” the mayor asked.
“Yes, but…”
“And you know how to recite the relevant law?” Wayne asked.
“Yes, but that doesn’t…”
“Congratulations, Miss Hart,” the mayor said. “You’re Spellbound’s new public defender.”
“She’ll need to fit her work in between classes,” Lady Weatherby said. “Her education in witchcraft is essential. We can’t have untrained witches running amok in Spellbound. It will reflect poorly on the coven.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Mayor Knightsbridge said. “Lucy, you’ll escort Miss Hart to her new home, won’t you?”
“Yes, Madam Mayor.” Lucy beamed like she’d been awarded top prize in a beauty pageant.
I gave Lucy a curious glance. “You really love your job, don’t you?”
She laughed giddily. “I have the best job in the world. What’s not to love?”
“The key is under the gargoyle,” Lord Gilder added. “Be prepared, Miss Hart. You have rather big shoes to fill.”
“Speaking of shoes,” Mayor Knightsbridge said. “Lucy, please be sure to find Miss Hart a pair of matching socks.”
If I hadn’t already been glowing purple, I would have turned bright red.
When Lucy excused herself to use the restroom before taking me to Gareth’s house, I made a break for it. It wasn’t a conscious decision. I simply felt my feet moving out of the Great Hall and across town before I could stop myself.
I couldn't wrap my head around everything that was happening. Part
of me was still convinced it was a dream. How could I be a witch? How could I live twenty-five years of my life and not know I was a witch? Then again, I didn't have my parents growing up. If I was descended from witches on my mother’s side, then that explained the knowledge gap. Did my mother know she was a witch? I knew nothing about her parents. Other than that they were dead. They died before I was even born.
I followed the path out of town, the one where Daniel had first taken me. I thought it was worth having another look to see whether there was something we missed. Maybe it was all a huge mistake.
The trees grew taller, wider, and more frequent as I walked. Under different circumstances, I would have found this town enchanting. A place where you would go on holiday and tell your friends about it later. Post three hundred pictures on Facebook to make everyone jealous. But I had to see this place differently now. I had to see it as my new home. I would never see my apartment again. It wasn't such a great apartment, but it was still where I lived. It was my home. True, I had no family to miss me, but surely someone would. I pondered the list of potential people. It wasn't a very long one, sadly. I mostly kept to myself. I did my job, met with clients, paid my bills on time, and basically went about my day.
I stood in front of the two white birch trees. Would anything be different if I tried to leave now? Maybe there had been a glitch like with computers. I bet magic went awry sometimes, like technology. Nothing was perfect.
I took another step closer. And then another. When I stepped again, the tip of my big toe hit that invisible wall. Well, that was going to bruise. I took a few steps backward. What if I gave a running start? Maybe the speed was an issue. I could burst through the invisible barrier if I just gained enough momentum.
I walked back about twenty paces and turned to face the trees again. I tried to remember the position a sprinter took at the beginning of a race. I hunched over and pressed my fingertips to the ground.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a familiar voice said. Daniel.
"Are you following me?" I asked. "Because I don't think I need a guardian angel anymore."
"Oh, but I think you do. You’re about to give yourself a concussion. That is not the action of a sane person."
Spellbinding Starters Page 75
