Dangerous Magic

by Evie Hart

  “Is he actually?” I turned and asked Honey.

  She nodded. “He goes out there every morning before she wakes up. I follow him, but he ignores me every time. I think he got more of y’all’s blood than hers.”

  “Everyone gets more Thorn blood,” Grandma responded before turning back to us. “What’s your next plan?”

  “Holy smokes!” Aunt Shelly came rushing in, a bag of pastries from Ana-May’s café in her hand. “Did y’all hear that Lorenzo has been arrested for the murders of Betty Lou and Amelie?”

  “There’s our answer,” Nicole muttered, reaching for her coffee. “What’s the gossip?”

  “Rumor has it they showed up real early. Before dawn and hauled him out in handcuffs.” She set the bag of pastries in the middle of the table, and I dove in, pulling out a cheese Danish. “Ana-May heard from Sue Ellen Montgomery that they found traces of belladonna in his office and roots in the firepit. But then Sarah Jenkins said they’d found the gun used to shoot Amelie in his office downtown, so who knows why they hauled him in? All I know is the community is shaken. The shifters are talking about staging a protest.”

  “Why?”

  Grandma Cherry looked at Nicole with one ghostly eyebrow raised. “If Lorenzo Martinez wanted someone dead, he’d either rip their throat out in his wolf form, or he’d hire someone to do it for him.”

  I shared a look with Nicole. That was pretty much what Luna had told me.

  “Why are you two lookin’ at each other like that? Actually, never mind.” Grandma waved us off. “If I don’t know, your aunts can’t yell at me if I don’t stop you. I’m going to visit with Terrence.”

  With that, she floated through the back door. A quick glance said that Honey had also disappeared at some point in the last few minutes, leaving me and Nic alone.

  “That settles it,” I said, meeting her eyes. “I guess I’m taking a basket of muffins to the Martinez mansion to see Cameron.”

  Her eyes glimmered. “I’ll pack it for you.”

  • • •

  My skinny jeans felt like regret as I flew across town to the mansion. It didn’t matter much that they had rips on my thighs or were as light a blue as possible, I swore I was sweating from my crotch down.

  Then again, I could have been sweating with nerves.

  I hadn’t exactly been welcomed by Lorenzo the last time I’d been here. For all I knew, I wasn’t even allowed to be let inside the sprawling property. Still, I had to try.

  As the alpha’s son, Cameron would be the de-facto alpha while Lorenzo was in the police station. It was nearing midday—not only had it taken me a while to get up the courage to get over here, but I’d also wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t be at the station when I got here.

  I wanted to walk in, talk to Cameron, and get back out again.

  And, yes, I’d made myself look a little nice.

  Flirting never hurt anybody now, did it?

  Well, it’d maybe broken a few teenage hearts, but I wasn’t looking for love, so my heart was just fine.

  I dismounted my broom at the edge of the property. I tried not to focus on anything but holding onto it and the small muffin basket Nicole had forced on me as I made my way up to the front door.

  I got there far too quickly.

  Still, I raised my hand and knocked several times on the large door. A shiver ran down my spine as I waited, and I looked around, but I couldn’t see anyone watching me. I was about to knock a second time—the alpha’s home was rarely empty—when the door swung open.

  Samuel opened the door, dressed in his uniform. If I was dying in these jeans, he was for sure dying in that suit, no doubt about it.

  “Miss Thorn,” he greeted me with a warm smile. “What a pleasant surprise. Mr. Martinez is unavailable, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”

  “Hello, Samuel.” I returned the smile. “I have, I’m sorry to say. I wanted to come and see Cameron. I brought muffins.” I lifted up the basket. “Is he here?”

  “No, he’s not, I’m afraid. He’s down at the police station trying to arrange bail for his father.” He glanced a thick, silver wristwatch on his hand. “Can I invite you in to wait for him?”

  “Oh, no, it’s fine, thank you. I can come back, but do you mind if I leave these here?” I held the basket out to him.

  “Nonsense, my dear. He won’t be too long. No more than twenty minutes.” He stepped back and opened the door wide, motioning for me to enter. “Come on in, and I’ll make you some tea.”

  I hesitated. If Cameron was trying to arrange bail, there was every chance he’d return with his father, and I did not want to be here.

  “I’m not sure,” I said slowly. “I’d hate to be an imposition.”

  “No imposition. I insist, Miss Thorn.”

  Well… “I can spare half an hour to wait. Tea would be lovely.” I smiled and walked into the house with him. “And please, call me Avery.”

  “Let me take those from you, Avery. They smell delicious.” He shut the door and relieved me of my muffins. “You can stand your broom here by the door.”

  I leaned it against the wall. “Thank you. It’s my aunt’s recipe, and no matter what we do, we can’t get it out of her.”

  “Well, should you ever manage, I’d be honored if you’d share.” Another smile, the warmth reaching his amber eyes. “Please, take a seat at the counter, and I’ll fill the tea kettle for your drink.”

  “Thank you.” I slid onto a stool and looked around. The kitchen was as spotless as it’d been the last time I’d been here, and the house was totally silent. “Is it just you here, Samuel?”

  “It is,” he confirmed, bustling around with his back to me. “Everyone is at the police station. I’m sure you’ve heard of the plans to protest until Mr. Martinez is released.”

  I nodded, before quickly realizing he couldn’t see me. “I did. My aunt heard some things at the café this morning.”

  Samuel chuckled. “Ah, the high school water cooler of Haven Lake.”

  “That sounds about right.”

  “What are the rumors today?”

  “One was about roots in the fire pit, and another was a gun in his office. I think.”

  “The gun is far more believable than the fire pit.” He chuckled again and put a steaming mug of tea in front of me. “We use leaves—is that a problem?”

  I shook my head. “We also use leaves for most teas. It smells delicious. Thank you.” I lightly blew on the surface of the tea. “Samuel, can I ask you a question?”

  “If I were the pedantic type, I’d say you already did.” He smiled, amused with himself. “Please, ask away.”

  “Do you think Mr. Martinez is responsible for this?” I took a sip of my tea.

  He shook his head with conviction. “Absolutely not. He had no reason to kill either of the women—he wanted a resolution to the border issues peacefully.”

  “But it was a problem, wasn’t it?” I paused. “I’m sorry. I’m still trying to catch up with everything that’s going on in town.”

  “Of course, of course.” He smiled again. “Yes, of course it was a problem. It is a problem, still. Betty Lou’s death was a dreadful shame that only prolongs the issues. There is no stand-in leader for her, so until you witches elect a new Head of the Council, everything is on pause.”

  “Wow. I thought she’d have a deputy.” I took another sip of the tea. It was nothing remarkable, but still good. Maybe I was spoiled by living with my aunts.

  “No.” Samuel shook his head. “Some of the leaders have their children step in, but Betty Lou was childless. It will take time to train a new leader. I daresay nobody expected her to leave her post so soon.”

  It was a strange phrase—leave her post. It wasn’t like she’d had a choice. I opened my mouth to say it, but nothing came out. Instead of words, my mouth was completely dry, and the edges of my vision was blurring.

  I blinked, but it only made it worse. I murmured what I hoped was Samuel’s name, and even though
I knew somewhere deep down it was stupid, I stood.

  I staggered, gripping onto a stool to keep me upright. Everything was spinning, like I’d twirled on my tiptoes a few too many times. Or I’d been drinking Aunt Shelly’s moonshine.

  Fear pierced me as heat flooded me and everything got blurrier and blurrier until my vision was nothing but a mass of colors all blending together in a psychedelic watercolor.

  The realization hit me far too late.

  And I’d walked right into the wolf’s den.

  I opened my mouth. I didn’t know why. To beg for help. To make this stop. To plead for my life, because I knew I was dying.

  A big black blob moved toward me, and I gasped for air right as something hit me on the head.

  And everything went black.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  MY HEAD THROBBED.

  I could barely open my eyes. The pain in my head was so severe it was throbbing like I’d been kicked by a centaur. I just wanted it to stop, and I silently pleaded with my head to do just that.

  My tongue felt like it was covered in felt. My mouth was drier than I’d ever known, like I’d been eating my way through a bag of cotton. A tickle in my throat made me choke, and tears spilled from my eyes as I coughed and coughed.

  Was this what death felt like?

  After a few seconds, I stopped coughing, and I was able to suck my cheeks in to make just enough saliva to wet my throat. It was a feeble attempt, but it was better than feeling the horrible, dry, scratchiness.

  Forcing my eyes open was painful. Literally painful thanks to my head, but I managed it. Unfortunately, I was left staring into darkness—total blackness that seemed never-ending.

  I blinked several times to clear my vision. The more I stared into the darkness, the clearer my eyesight became. A sliver of light was on the other side of the space I was hiding in—or maybe it was close to me. I didn’t know.

  I had zero concept of space. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know what time it was.

  How long had I been here? Where was I? What was happening?

  I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I was handcuffed to a chair, and it was cold and hard beneath my butt. My heart raced as panic set in—how did I even get here? What had I been—

  Oh, my Goddess.

  Samuel.

  It was Samuel.

  He was the killer, and the tea! He’d poisoned me!

  Spells bells. He’d poisoned me, the little rat, and now I was locked away somewhere.

  I cleared my throat, immediately wishing that I hadn’t. “Hello?” I whispered into the blackness.

  “Avery?” a familiar voice whispered back. “Are you awake?”

  “Ca—Cameron?”

  “Yes. Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been poisoned and handcuffed to a chair. What do you think?”

  He chuckled low. “Good to see you still have your sass.”

  “What are you doing down here?”

  A sigh permeated the air. “Dad was arrested around four a.m. The police got done searching the house around six, and I went to the station with him. I tried to get him bailed, but they told me they were charging him with murder and needed to interview him. Sheriff Bones promised me he’d call when he’d been in front of the judge, probably tomorrow.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “Came home. Samuel had prepared breakfast—well, brunch. We chatted some, and I began to put two and two together. They’d arrested Dad because they’d gotten an anonymous tip about his office downtown. Someone said they’d seen a gun there. They searched it last night and found one that matched the bullet Amelie had been shot with.”

  Well, some rumors were true, then.

  “My father doesn’t have a gun personally, but he owns them for staff. I know this because I was the one responsible for obtaining the licenses for them all, and I knew one of them belonged to Samuel.” Another shaky breath left Cameron. “I asked him where his gun was, and he said he’d lost it. When he couldn’t answer where and panicked, I started to suspect him.”

  “How did you end up here?”

  “I’m an idiot and drank the tea he gave me,” Cameron replied wryly.

  “Where are we, by the way?”

  “Judging by the smell, we’re in the basement.”

  I sniffed. Apart from it being a little musty, I couldn’t smell anything. “Smell?”

  His laugh was low and scratchy. “Superior senses, remember? I can smell old clothes, Christmas decorations, even the wine cellar that’s off to our right.”

  “You have a wine cellar?”

  “If we get out of here alive, I promise I’ll show you it.”

  “Now you’re giving me a reason to survive,” I teased. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  He laughed again. “How did you get here?”

  I sighed, slumping back in the chair. “I came over to see you. We knew your dad had been arrested, and not gonna lie, I came to see what you knew. I guess I found out a whole lot more than I’d bargained for.”

  “Yes, but how did you get down here?”

  “Oh. Samuel told me you were at the station trying to get your dad bailed out. I tried to leave, but he said you wouldn’t be long and that I was welcome to wait. I didn’t think anything of it because he’s always been so nice. Until he tried to kill me, I guess.”

  “Tea again, huh?”

  “Yep. He’s not very original, is he?”

  “Not really.” There was silence. “Are you okay?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out. “Not really. My head hurts and I feel like, well, someone has tried to kill me. What about you?”

  “I’ve been better. Are you cuffed to a chair, too?”

  “Yeah. Does he like murder shows by any chance? This is awfully stereotypical.” I wriggled to wake up my numbing backside.

  “No idea. I’ve never really liked him, but my dad trusted him, so…” He sighed again.

  “Can’t you shift?”

  “No. He used silver cuffs on me. I can feel it burning my skin.” A hint of pain made his voice weaken. “It won’t kill me, but it’s enough to stop me shifting.”

  “Dang.”

  “Can’t you magic your way out of yours?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know, and I’m afraid to try. I think he’s probably found a way to make them magic-resistant.” I gave him the cut-rate version of what had happened to Dotty.

  He let out a string of cuss words. “So we’re just supposed to sit here and let him kill us?”

  I didn’t want to answer that. Given that he’d already poisoned us both and not killed us, I was afraid the answer was yes. I knew how murder worked—there was always another story.

  I had no doubt that Samuel had a story cooked up. One that made our deaths or disappearance make sense.

  “Yes,” I said softly. “I think that’s exactly what we’re supposed to do.”

  • • •

  The sound of a door opening pulled me out of the awkward doze I was taking. My neck cricked as I sat upright and once again adjusted to the darkness. Now, I really had no idea how long I’d been down here, but I knew my family would be worried.

  As a matter of fact, where the devil was my familiar? I knew she hated the wolves, but her job was to damn well protect me.

  I was going to ban her from tuna and sushi for an entire year for this.

  Footsteps boomed on the stairs somewhere to my left, echoing around the large basement. It was still horribly dark, but there was a faint light slowly illuminating the room.

  Until the moment the footsteps stopped, and something clicked.

  The room flooded with light. It was so bright that it actually burned my eyes, and I squeezed them shut. I’d been in darkness so long I honestly never thought I’d see the light again.

  Dramatic? Maybe.

  Bloody hell, who turned on the lights?

  I sucked in a deep breath. Aristotle?

  Present and accounted for, milady. What
are you doing handcuffed to a chair?

  I got into trouble.

  I’m not terribly surprised. Who’s the penguin in the suit?

  The murderer. He wants to kill me.

  Oh dear.

  Maybe I was hysterical. Maybe I was crazy. Maybe the poison was getting to my mind, but I wanted to laugh.

  I didn’t, though.

  The sound of Samuel’s voice snapped that right out of me.

  “You can keep your eyes shut all you like, Avery. I’m still going to kill you.”

  I forced my eyes open, blinking carefully so my vision could adjust.

  Samuel looked like he had when he’d opened the door to me hours earlier. His suit was perfectly pressed. He didn’t have a hair out of place, and his shoes were shiny as hell, but his eyes were now cold.

  Ice cold.

  Murderous.

  They were the eyes of a cold-blooded, heartless killer.

  I shuffled. “You can call me Miss Thorn. It’s not polite to poison people you’re on first-name terms with.”

  Cameron snorted.

  I glanced at him. He looked like the walking dead. His face was dirty, and he had a bruise on his right cheek that extended up over his eye, but he still looked damn hot.

  It was unfair, really.

  I was probably rocking a bird’s nest on my head and panda eyes.

  There’s a man with a gun in front of you and you’re worried about how you look. No wonder you’re handcuffed to a chair.

  Shut up, you, I shot back at Aristotle. If we stand any chance of getting out of here alive, you need to help me. You can shout at me later.

  Avery, dear, I’m here to help you.

  Can you tell anyone where we are?

  No. I flew in when this pillock opened the door, and now I’m as stuck as you are.

  What’s a pillock?

  I’ll explain later. Pay attention to your murderer.

  Great. One familiar was missing in action, and the other wasn’t going to tell anyone I was locked in a basement.

  I didn’t sign up for this.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Samuel said. “I know you’ve got a mouth on you.”