by Zoe Arden
She went into the back and left me alone with Slater.
"So," I said, suddenly uncomfortable. He was Damon's cousin. Damon. Who I was pretty sure wanted me dead.
Unless I'd killed all those people.
Were these really my only choices. Me or Damon? Why couldn't there be a third option I was missing?
"So," Slater said. "Talk to Damon lately?"
I gulped. "What do you mean?"
He looked at me oddly.
"I meant have you talked to him lately."
I realized I was acting like a nutcase. "Sorry, I'm a bit on edge."
"I can imagine. I heard what happened the other day. Mistmoor huh? No idea how you got there?"
I blushed and shook my head.
"Have you talked to Damon lately," I asked. I had a golden opportunity here and I was letting it slip right through my fingers. Slater was Damon's cousin, for witch's sake!
"Yeah, just the other day."
"Oh really? Did he... is he... adjusting to being back on the island?"
"What do you mean?" Slater asked, tensing slightly.
"He told me that he'd moved off the island when he was very young. That he hadn't been back in years. Till now."
"That's right," Slater said. "His mom moved him away after... an incident."
"Incident?" I asked, my ears perking up. "What incident?"
"None of your business," Slater said, more coldly than I was used to from him. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's just an old, painful memory for the family. Suffice it to say that Damon's mom moved him away and now he's back."
"Do you know why he came back?" I inquired, hoping I wasn't pushing my luck. This was clearly a touchy subject.
"I asked him to," Slater said. "He's my cousin. I missed him. We were always very close. I guess things just aren't like they used to be." A sad look lit upon his face for a half second before disappearing.
The beaded curtain drew back before I could ask Slater any more questions. "You can come back now," Polly said.
In the back room, Anastasia was standing facing the wall. "Hello," I said. "Thanks for seeing me."
Anastasia spun around. She held a finger up in the air like she was testing the wind and cried, "You seek answers." As if Polly hadn't just come back here and told her that.
"Um, yes," I replied.
She was wearing a bright blue and green gown with huge sleeves that draped to the floor. On her head was the strangest looking headband I'd ever seen, if you could call it a headband. It had giant gold feathers sticking up all around it and a crystal in the center that looked like a third eye. It reminded me of something a Las Vegas showgirl might wear.
"The spirits told me as much," Anastasia said. "Sit." She indicated a round folding table that had been set up.
Answers.
I supposed that was the simplest way to put it. I had so many questions I couldn't keep them straight anymore. The biggest one was whether or not I was a killer. Whatever the answer might be, I had to know. I only hoped Anastasia wouldn't make me ask the question out loud.
"As I've told you before," Anastasia said, "it is difficult to force answers from the spirits. Though, with an open mind and an open heart, it may be done."
I wondered what spirits it was we were seeking answers from. Did she mean ghosts? She seemed to be on a roll and I didn't want to interrupt her with dumb questions, so I kept my mouth shut.
Anastasia took a long black feather from a drawer and began to sweep the air with it. I had no idea what she was doing, but as long as it worked, she could've put scorpions on my head and told me not to move.
"Polly," Anastasia said, sitting down opposite me. "My crystal ball." She held her hands out for it.
Polly shot a look to Slater, who seemed remarkably interested in what was going on. I wondered if he'd ever seen a reading like this before. He was around Polly so much I sometimes forgot that he was human.
"I always thought the crystal ball thing was a gag," he said to Polly. She shook her head and pulled a crystal the size of a bowling ball from a cupboard.
"I wish," Polly said. She handed the ball to her mother, who set it in a shiny bronze base to keep it from rolling. The whole thing seemed a bit over-the-top to me, but what did I know? I'd never had a psychic reading before.
"Now what?" I asked. I wasn't sure whether or not it was my imagination, but the air suddenly seemed thicker. I could feel it on my face, like I'd walked into a steam room. Except the air wasn't hot, it was just... heavy.
"Now we concentrate," Polly's mom said. "Close your eyes. Polly, Slater, you may join us at the table, but do not rise while the reading is in progress. And do not touch either Ava or myself."
Slater immediately grabbed a seat, eager to be close to the action. Unfortunately for him, there wasn't much action going on.
We sat in silence for several minutes. I opened my eyes once, just to make sure Anastasia hadn't fallen asleep, and found her staring at me with wide, dark eyes. It creeped me out and I shut my eyes again. A few seconds later, a strange sound began to rumble around the room.
Suddenly, Anastasia began to shout. "Oooooheeeeyyyy!" Her head rolled around on her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut. " Oooheey! Oooheey! Oooheey!" she cried. The table began to shake.
"What's happening?" I asked, rising from my seat.
Polly gripped my arm tightly. She was stronger than I would have thought. "Sit down," she growled at me.
I sat.
Slater was watching the entire process wide-eyed. I knew that there were exceptions to the rule about humans and wizards interacting, but couldn't help wondering what the Witch's Council would think of Slater's presence here. What would Colt Hudson think?
Finally, Anastasia's eyes opened. When they did, they were glowing. She looked directly into her crystal ball and began to speak.
"I see danger," she said.
I already knew that. I hoped Anastasia had more answers for me than 'danger.'
"A man with dark hair. His face is out of focus. He means you harm. He is a killer."
"So you mean I didn't do it?" I asked. "I didn't kill anyone?"
"No," Anastasia said. A wave of relief washed over me.
"Thank the witching world," I muttered to myself.
"At least, not yet."
"Not yet," I shrieked. "What does that mean?"
But I wasn't sure Anastasia heard me. "There is someone else. A girl. She is not what she appears to be. She—"
Anastasia moved closer to the crystal ball. I could see it's reflection in her eyes, but I couldn't see whatever vision she was looking at. I wished I could.
"What is it?" I breathed. "What girl? Is it me?"
Anastasia's eyes widened. Her head moved from me to Polly to Slater.
"Damon Tellinger!" Anastasia finally said.
"What about him?" I asked.
"He is the one. He seeks vengeance for his father's death."
Oh, my wizards. That means William Carney was right. My father had killed Damon's.
So why didn't Damon just kill me then? Why kill humans? Why kill his friends? This reading was creating more questions than answers.
"Is he the one who left the chocolate cake for me?" I asked, breathless.
"Yes."
"Do you know where my wand is? What about the girl?"
"Your wand is gone. The girl is no one. It is Damon you are after... for he is the one after you!"
* * *
2 5
* * *
Note to self: get a phone.
I begged my brain not to forget that as I left The Alchemic Stone and headed for The Mystic Cupcake. If I had a phone right now, I'd be able to call my aunts and warn them. Or call Lucy and tell her what I'd just learned. If ever I needed a friend, it was now.
I rounded the corner onto Bell Street and bumped into someone. Literally. I bounced off him and landed on my butt.
"Ow," I said, rubbing my now tenderized backside.
"Ava." I looked up t
o see Damon staring down at me.
"Damon," I breathed. "Wh-what are you doing here?" I tried to keep my voice from trembling.
"I've been waiting for you. I need to talk to you. Alone."
"Alone?" I gulped. The blood ran from my head. I could feel my heart pounding. I gripped the heriotza pendant tightly in my hand.
"What's that?" Damon asked.
"Nothing," I lied, and tucked the pendant back under my shirt. It began to sting, but not burn. Danger was approaching, but it wasn't here yet.
"Listen, Ava, I have to tell you something. I've been thinking about it ever since that day in the bakery... when you saved my life."
My heart skipped a beat. The Mystic Cupcake was just two doors down. If I could get inside, I'd be safe. Even though the bakery was closed, my aunts had told me they would be there today taking inventory.
"The first time I saw you... it wasn't what you think."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "The first time I met you I was going through your boat looking for..." I stopped and crossed my arms, uncertain how much I should admit.
"Your wand?" Damon asked. "I know."
I don't know why his words surprised me. I guess it wasn't his words, it was his admission. He'd known from day one that I was a witch.
He was standing so close I could smell honey on his breath. His sapphire eyes looked past me. Into me. Like he had X-ray vision. How could I still be attracted to a man who wanted me dead?
"You know?" I asked.
His face was inches from mine. The single kiss we'd shared came back to me. Dr. Dunne said he had no memory of that day, but I wondered if deep inside him somewhere he knew.
"I saw you come in that day on the ferry. I was sitting in my boat with—"
"David Buyers," I said. It all came back to me. The first day I arrived. Stepping off that pier and into the ocean. Making a fool out of myself. The two men in the boat laughing... then...
"I saw you arguing with him. The next day he turned up dead." I started backing away from him, but he refused to let me go.
"Ava, listen to me. Let me explain. You don't have to be afraid of me." Yet even as he said it, his grip on my hands tightened.
"I know you're a witch. I've known all along. That day... when I saw you dry yourself off... it shook me up. I'd never seen anything like it before."
"Even when you were dating Polly?" I asked.
"Polly?" he said, confused. "What about her?"
"I'm supposed to believe you were scared of me doing a simple drying spell but you weren't scared of all the stuff Polly can do? She knows fifty times more spells than me, for rose's sake! And not just the usual stuff," I said, thinking of the gems and crystals she dealt in.
Damon's eyes opened wide.
"You know about Polly?"
"Of course I know," I told him. "I may be a newbie but I'm not an idiot. Polly's a terrific witch."
"Did I hear my name?" a cheery voice suddenly asked behind me. I turned to see Polly walking with Slater. His face tightened when he saw Damon.
"What's up, cuz?" Slater asked.
"Nothing you need to worry about," Damon said through gritted teeth.
Whoa. What’s with the tension?
Polly looked from one man to the other, and I had the idea I knew where the tension was coming from. She was obviously still into Damon. Who could blame her? Though both he and Slater had dark hair and blue eyes, Damon had a little something extra. A little more... attitude? Danger? Whatever it was, it gave him the edge on Slater. I was sure Slater must have hated that.
I wondered how much Damon was still into Polly.
"I've gotta go," Damon said suddenly, giving me one last look. "We'll talk later." He took off without so much as a goodbye to anyone else.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Despite my attraction to him, I was pretty sure he was a killer.
"Thanks," I said. "You guys showed up just in time. What are you doing here?"
"Following you, of course," Polly said, coming up on my left. She locked elbows with me, steering me toward the bakery. Slater stepped up on my right.
"You ran out of Polly's store so fast we didn't have a chance to talk to you," he said. I could tell he was shaken up. I supposed Damon had a way of doing that.
"Look, what you and Anastasia said about Damon... His father was killed years ago. He's never gotten over it. But I never dreamed he'd try to hurt anyone. If I'd known..."
"It's not your fault," I told him.
"Polly, I'm sorry to ask you this, but... why did you and Damon break up?"
"I thought I could trust him. But after I told him I was a witch, he broke up with me. He just couldn't handle it." She smiled sadly for a minute.
"I thought you weren't supposed to tell humans about witches?"
"You're not," Polly said. "But I got special permission from the Witches Council when I told them I was in love with—"
She paused, realizing what she was about to say. Slater's cheeks were burning.
"None of that matters now anyway," Polly continued quickly. “Because I've got the best boyfriend ever." She reached around my back and squeezed Slater's elbow. He didn't look like he was buying it.
"The point is," said Slater, "that from now on, we've got your back. I don't care if Damon is my cousin. We're not going to let him kill you or anyone else. Even if it means we have to kill him first."
* * *
2 6
* * *
"So you expect me to believe that a human male is going around killing other humans?" Detective Hudson asked snidely. I was already regretting my decision to come down here.
Detective Hudson was sitting on Sheriff Knoxx's desk. I wasn't pretty sure the sheriff would not approve but didn't see him anywhere around to rat Hudson out.
"Yes," I replied.
"And one warlock?"
"Yes."
"And on your word, you want me to release your father and lock up Damon Tellinger?"
"That's right," I said, meeting his stare. I had hoped this would go better.
"And your proof of this is..."
"I already told you. Damon's father killed my mother."
"Right. And a psychic told you that he wanted to kill you now, too. Is that right?"
Detective Hudson made no effort to hide the fact he was rolling his eyes at me.
"I'd be more likely to believe that Sheriff Knoxx killed Brendan than Damon Tellinger."
"Actually," I said, remembering how quickly Sheriff Knoxx had arrived on the scene. "That's a good point. Sheriff Knoxx arrived at the coffee shop almost immediately after Brendan's death. How is that possible? How did he know? For that matter... how did you know? You got there just after he did."
"Do you even know how long you were unconscious?" Hudson asked angrily. He'd risen from his desk and his six-foot frame towered over me.
"No, but look. My father—"
"No, you look. Someone phoned in a disturbance from Coffee Cove. Sheriff Knoxx took off like a bat out of Hades. I followed him. That's how we got there so fast. Got it?" His face was so red I thought he might start blowing smoke. "Your father is wanted on charges of murdering four people. I suggest you—"
"Four people?" My head snapped up. I thought I'd misheard him. "Only three people have been killed, though." My head spun for a second. "Unless there's been another murder."
Detective Hudson sighed. "Your father never faced the inquisition for killing Jon Pratt. As far as we are concerned, that case remains open. Until such a time as he can answer for his crime, he will be charged with murder."
"Jon Pratt?" I asked, confused. "Not Tellinger?"
Detective Hudson shook his head. "This is why you shouldn't be running around conducting your own investigation. You don't even know all the facts. So let me enlighten you."
"Detective—"
"Fact one. Damon Tellinger is not the killer."
I fumed silently in my seat and folded my arms across my chest.
"Fact two. Even
if Damon had something to do with the deaths that occurred, what about his own near-death experience? Why would he have poisoned himself with love potion cake? Or have you forgotten about that?"
Oops.
I'd gotten so worked up from Anastasia's reading that it had never occurred to me that Damon had almost died himself.
"Maybe Damon ate the cake to throw suspicion off himself," I said, though I didn't really believe that. He'd gotten lucky that day. If I hadn't been there, he'd have died for sure.
Detective Hudson ignored me and continued talking.
"Fact three. You have been a witch for all of five minutes and have no idea how anything works on Heavenly Haven. Fact four. You are still a suspect in these crimes. The main suspect as far as I'm concerned."
He clasped his hands together and settled back onto the desk, an arrogant grin on his face.
"Where's Sheriff Knoxx?" I suddenly asked. "Maybe he'll listen to me if you won't." I rose from my chair.
"Sheriff Knoxx is no longer assigned to this case," Detective Hudson said. He smiled at me with perfect teeth that reminded me of the Big Bad Wolf. "I am the senior officer at this station, and I am the only one with the authority to release your father."
"Do you like being such a toad bottom?" I asked.
Detective Hudson's smile flattened out.
"Even if I were to let your father out of the three most recent charges, he would still have to face an inquisition regarding Jon Pratt. If he truly killed Mr. Pratt in self-defense, then there should be no problem. However," he paused, letting the word hang in the air, "accessory to murder is also a serious crime. So is obstruction."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Ava, let me level with you. I don't think your father killed anyone. Except, of course, Mr. Pratt. And in all honesty, that probably was self-defense, given the history between them. It's obvious your father is covering up for someone now, though. The real killer. Who do you think that might be, Ava? Any ideas?"
My face grew hot under the detective's stare. He was looking at me like I was Norman Bates. I'd made a horrible mistake by coming to see him. He still thought I was guilty.
