by Evie Hart
Oh boy. I couldn’t find that myself.
I bit back my urge to snap out a sarcastic comment and smiled at her. Look at that—I was finally adulting.
“Thank you!” I tossed her a wave and headed toward the elevator doors. I passed a few shifters and fae dressed in business suits. The shifters took the stairs while the fae blinked out of view, and I realized the elevator was purely for the witches and the vamps.
It worked for me.
I pressed the button and was able to step inside the steel box almost instantly. A wan smile crossed my lips as the faint sound of classical music filled the space as the doors closed, and I just knew the vampires had something to do with that. Most paranormals didn’t much care for the humans, but vampires had had a long time to learn how to assimilate between the magical and non-magical races.
I guessed that cheesy elevator music was something that didn’t discriminate across races.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator stopped and the doors whirred to open. The foreboding feeling I’d had since I’d walked in escalated. The thickness of the air around me was suffocating, almost as if it were telling me to get back in the elevator and run away.
I was, however, a witch.
A Thorn witch.
The only thing I ran from was my dead grandmother, and even that was debatable.
I held my hands in front of me, commanding the elevator to freeze on this floor. Magic pooled in my fingertips, sparking with fuchsia hints that I had to call back into me in case anyone saw them.
A witch walking into a government building with magic sparking at her fingertips wasn’t exactly a friendly sight.
I stepped into the reception area. Whatever it was that had set off my inner alarm now glared, screaming at me inside my head the farther I got into the room.
One more step and I saw it.
The body of a young woman lay in a pool of blood behind the counter. Her blond hair was fanned out around her face and tainted with the red of her blood. Her head was turned to the side, and her ashen, graying expression was one of utter horror.
Eyes wide open. Lips parted.
Fear rushed through my body.
Short. Sharp. Furious.
I did the only thing I could do.
I screamed.
CHAPTER FOUR
THERE WAS A dead body in front of me.
There was blood pooled around her.
Her hair was stained with it, and I screamed again. This time, I stumbled backward, not stopping until I hit one of the large glass windows.
A fae body blinked into the office as soon as the elevators opened and revealed to me the vampire receptionist who’d greeted me. Their responses were much the same, except after the initial shock had worn off, the faerie disappeared, and the receptionist crossed over to me.
She hugged me to her side, staring at the dead body.
“Who is that?” I whispered.
“Amelie Vine,” she said back, just as softly. “The police are on their way. Don’t worry.”
I shuddered, and it was nothing to do with the coldness of her skin. Honestly, I was thankful for her ice-cold touch and how she comforted me.
There was something I never thought I’d say.
“Who is Amelie?” I asked as sirens filled the air outside. The blue lights were but mere flashes from the third floor.
“Betty Lou’s assistant,” she replied. “Oh, Lord, has anyone checked on Betty Lou?”
I clasped my hands over my mouth. I hadn’t even thought of it. It was past ten a.m. Of course Betty Lou would be in her office.
Me and the vampire jumped up, running toward the closed door of Betty Lou’s office. It wasn’t locked, and I was able to shove it open in a second.
Betty Lou was lying on her floor, her feet still tucked under her desk.
I bit back the desire to scream as my vampire consort approached her and kneeled down. She ducked her head right into Betty Lou’s and placed her hand on her neck.
“She’s alive,” she said softly. “Barely.”
I collapsed against the wall and wrapped my arms around my waist as people popped into the room. Quite literally. The first ones on a crime scene were always the fae police, and this was no different.
Three fae appeared in front of me in a light haze of faerie dust. Two men, one woman. All three of them surveyed the room with a quick flick of their gaze, and the woman—who I recognized as someone I’d gone to school with—bent down to check on Betty Lou.
She nodded up at the guys, and I watched as the one she’d nodded at whispered into his hand and threw dust into the air. It disappeared without touching anything, and even though this situation was dire, I was still impressed with it.
The dust would carry a message to whoever needed it. I’d heard it was a method of communication for the fae, especially in jobs like the police, but I’d never seen it before.
That was a recurring theme this morning. I’d never seen a dead body, either.
Bile rose in my throat at the thought of the scene I’d stumbled across only minutes ago.
Was it really only minutes? It felt like I’d been standing here forever, but no. The clock on the wall didn’t lie. It’d been less than five minutes.
Familiar, almond-shaped eyes met mine, and Misty Faun gave me a warm smile. “You found them, Avery?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. The lump in my throat felt like it was trying to kill—
No. I couldn’t think that. It was wrong.
“Okay. I’m going to blink us to an empty office on this floor, okay? You don’t have to see the body again.” She wrapped one arm around my shoulders, and with a reassuring squeeze, I was blinked from the room at the same time the vampire was.
I blinked to adjust my eyes as we appeared in an empty office. With a shudder, I shook out my whole body. “Man, I hate that.”
Misty gave me a wan smile. “Sorry. I always forget it makes witches feel icky.”
“Not as icky as a dead body.”
She inclined her head gracefully and pushed a wisp of blond hair away from her face. “I’ll give you that. I’m sorry you had to see that. Did you find her or was it Alexa?”
Alexa?
Oh. The vampire.
I blew out a breath and sunk onto the leather desk chair. “I found her. I was here to see Betty Lou.”
“For your grandma?”
“Yep. I bound her yesterday.”
Despite the situation, she let loose a small giggle. “I bet that went down well.”
“Oh, it did. Like a bag of rocks falling from the top of the town clock and landing on your head,” I muttered.
Misty bit back another laugh. “Detective Sanders will be in to speak with you in a minute. Given your habit of alienating anyone new, try not to annoy him.”
“Misty, I just found a dead body.”
“If that’s supposed to reassure me, it didn’t.” Her ice-blue eyes sparkled. “Can I get you some water?”
“No. I’d probably throw it up right now, but thank you.”
I waited until she’d left the room before I sagged down onto the empty desk and buried my face in my arms. Closing my eyes was no good—all I could see in the emptiness was Amelie’s body as I’d found it.
I had a sneaking suspicion that’d be all I’d see for a while. I’d have to ask Aunt Rose to brew me a potion to help me sleep at night.
The door to the office opened and an unfamiliar magical signature filled the room. It sent a shiver down my spine in the best kind of way.
“Ms. Thorn?” asked a deep voice.
I looked up into the eyes of a Calvin Klein model.
Well, I didn’t. I looked into the eyes of who I presumed was Detective Sanders, but he could well have been an underwear model plastered on billboards everywhere. His dark brown hair was swept to the side and impossibly shiny, and that same dark brown was the color of the five o’clock shadow that covered his strong, square jaw. Full pink lips that were made for
kissing were currently down turned, and large, ocean-blue eyes framed by thick eyelashes completed his face.
The man was unfairly beautiful.
Then again, witches were. And that was what I was looking at right now.
“Yes?” My voice was scratchy.
His face was expressionless as he clicked the door shut and walked over to me. “Detective Sanders.” He held out his hand, and when I took it, a jolt of electricity bolted up my arm.
He looked down at our clasped hands then at me. “I understand you found the body,” he said in a smooth voice that held only a whisper of an accusation.
I swallowed, sitting up straight and bristling my spine. “I did.”
“What was your purpose of the visit?” He didn’t sit down, instead choosing to lean against the wall and study me from there. He crossed his ankles and folded his arms, his eyes firm on me.
“I was here to see Betty Lou Harper. I had—have—a binding to report.”
He quirked a brow. “Thorn. Your grandmother is Cherry Thorn?”
“I see her reputation still precedes me.”
He fought his lips twitching. “I can’t say I’m upset that she’s bound. The woman is a nuisance.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me that, Detective. I’ve known her for twenty-five years.” I leaned back in the chair.
“Fair point.” Another lip twitch. “Talk me through your morning.”
I bit back a sigh. “I woke up around eight-thirty. Took a shower. Ate breakfast. Made sure my aunt’s familiar could eat without mine trying to eat it—”
“Eat it?”
“Her familiar is a bird. Mine is a cat. If I need to explain that further there are some great shows on Netflix by David Attenborough.”
He shook his head. “Continue.”
“Then I left to report the binding. I took a slow walk through town without stopping to talk to anyone. The only person I spoke to was Alexa when I arrived, and she sent me upstairs.”
“Alexa. She was with you, correct?”
“Yes. Well, no.” I paused. “She came when I started screaming.”
He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“What? I’ve never seen a dead body that wasn’t on TV before.” I sniffed, my hackles rising. “Is that all?”
“Your grandmother was here yesterday. She was annoying Betty Lou because she called in with another threat to trap her.” His face was once again expressionless.
I bet the man was good at poker.
Unfortunately for him, I had a poker face of my own. You had to have one growing up as a Thorn.
“I don’t see where you’re going with this,” I replied.
“Betty Lou’s threats were empty, but your grandmother didn’t know that.” Detective Sanders paused. “When I came and banished your grandmother from the building, she was shouting that Betty Lou would trap her over her dead body.”
“Well, she would. The best place to trap a ghost is over their grave.”
“No, Betty Lou’s dead body.” Another pause. Ten points for dramatic effect. “I understand the Council were responsible for the order to bind your grandmother to the Thorn property. If you didn’t do it, she would have been held and potentially trapped after a trial.”
I folded my arms in a mirror image of him. “If you’re going to accuse me of murder, at least have the balls to say it outright.”
Shock flashed in his eyes before he schooled his expression. “You have the motive.”
“Motive?” I snorted. “I haven’t lived in Haven Lake for two years. I know everyone in town except who’s moved here since I left. I don’t know Amelie. I haven’t even been back for twenty-four hours. I don’t have the slightest motive to kill her.”
He said nothing.
“What the Council does is their business. They told me to bind my grandmother so she can have a coolin’ off period and a second chance at an afterlife. If you’re gonna tell me you believe I’m responsible for this because my grandmother is halfway to becomin’ a freakin’ poltergeist in personality, then you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”
Oh, look. There comes the accent, right along with the anger.
There was a slight pop, and Snow appeared on the desk in front of me.
Great. My ornery cat was going to make this situation better.
“Rose said someone died and you found the body,” she said, sitting down. “Is it true?”
“How in the—never mind.” I shook my head. I’d forgotten how fast news travels in this town.
Detective Sanders raised an eyebrow. “Your familiar, I presume?”
“In the flesh,” Snow said, turning around. “Why are you accusing her of murder?”
When he frowned, she licked her paw.
“Oh, come on. I’m a cat. I snuck up here and was listening outside the door. This is my witch.” She looked at him with her big eyes. “Why are you accusing her of murder?”
“I didn’t accuse her of murder.”
“Yes, you did. You said she has motive. I watch TV. I know what that means.”
Yep. It was time to keep Snow away from the Crime and Investigation channel.
“By the way, Cherry is fit to be tied that she can’t come see Betty Lou get her comeuppance for being a giant—”
“Snow,” I interrupted her before she could finish that sentence. I was more than familiar with the colorful things my grandmother thought about Betty Lou.
“Does he know what happened to the last person who accused a Thorn witch of being a murderer?”
This was not the time for a history lesson.
“I’m unfamiliar with the story,” Detective Sanders admitted. “But intrigued.”
Snow looked at him with only the stony-faced, no-craps-given expression only a cat could give. “She killed him.”
I sighed. “Technically, she tried to kill him. With a fireball, and then with a plague of malaria-infected, magical mosquitos. But it was a hundred or so years ago, and Ophelia Thorn wasn’t exactly known for being level-headed.”
“A fireball and a plague of mosquitos,” Detective Sanders echoed. “That’s nothing if not inventive.”
“And proof Avery didn’t do it,” Snow said.
“How do you figure that?”
“She’s a Thorn witch. If she wanted to kill someone, they’d see their death coming.”
That was helpful.
Not.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” he said wryly, fighting a smile before he looked at me. “I’m sure this goes without saying, but don’t leave town.”
“She can’t,” Snow said. “If she leaves, the binding spell dies, and then the Council will eat her for breakfast.”
“Thank you for that,” I said dryly. “Sadly, she’s right. I’m here for the duration.”
He nodded and met my eyes. “I have a feeling we’ll be speaking again soon.”
Man, I hoped not.
CHAPTER FIVE
“YOU KNOW,” I said to Snow after we were escorted out of the building. “I am capable of answering questions myself.”
She snorted, tail high in the air. “He was questioning you. Everyone knows you need a lawyer when the police question you.”
“But you’re not a lawyer. You’re a cat.”
“Cats could be lawyers.”
“Fine. Be a lawyer. You’ll have to give up the eighteen hours of sleep a day, though.”
She was silent for a moment. “I’ll just be a lawyer on TV, then.”
I rolled my eyes and turned toward the pet store my best friend and cousin owned. Nicole Thorn had been one third of me for my entire life, and I already knew I was in trouble for not stopping by here as soon as I’d bound Grandma yesterday.
I was going to make it up to her by giving her the first-hand account of what I’d seen. She’d forgive me. She always did.
And it got my lawyer cat out of my hair for a few minutes.
“Are we going to Nicole’s?” Snow asked, seeing the sig
n for Paws and Claws get closer.
I peered down at her and avoided a crack in the path. “We are.”
“That’s cool.” She was acting cool, but the excitement she really felt made her voice quiver.
Not only did she love Nicole and told me on a regular basis she wished she’d been her witch instead, the pet store had fish. And, to say my cat was magical, she still hadn’t figured out that she couldn’t get them out of the tanks. Not to mention Nicole had spelled the tanks to stop Snow getting inside.
That might have happened. Once.
Stopping outside Paws and Claws, I used my magic to unlock the front door. It might not seem safe in a town full of magical beings, but only a few people had the ability to unlock the door. The spell would shoot lightning at anyone who wasn’t authorized.
“Avery Thorn, if that isn’t you in here, I’m going to kill you.”
“It’s me,” I said, pushing the door shut behind me.
Nicole popped up from beneath the counter and glared at me with her moss-green eyes. “It took you long enough to bring your sorry butt in here.”
I held up my hands. “I had to make sure the binding spell stuck. You know what she’s like.”
“I do. She’s been in here bugging my customers.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“It’s all right. She bugged the ones I don’t like. She made a bag of sand fall on top of Willow Joy.” She shrugged a shoulder and leaned forward when Snow jumped onto the counter in one agile swoop. “Hey, baby,” Nicole cooed, scratching her under the chin.
Snow purred. “I missed you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I missed you, too. I even think the fish did.”
Snow’s eyes lit up, and she looked between us as if she were asking for permission.
“I could tell you to go home and I’d find you in front of the clownfish in an hour,” I said dryly. “Go.”
She bounded off the counter and disappeared into the store to find the fish.
“Where’s Samson?” I asked, referring to her tabby cat familiar.
“Probably annoying the school hamster,” Nicole answered, straightening some fliers on the counter. “Dang animal is basically a toddler. He’ll come back as soon as he realizes Snow is—”
