The Undercover Witch

by Gina LaManna

“I suppose you want an update?”

  “That would be nice.”

  I filled him in on everything I knew, up to and including my decision to return to the castle this morning. I didn’t exactly tell him about me going inside, pretending to be a housekeeper, and pretending to sign a magically binding contract.

  “You’re not telling me something,” he said once I finished. “Do you need help on this, Ainsley? What are your next steps?”

  My next step was sidling up the sidewalk this very instant. Beck.

  “There’s nothing I’m leaving out.”

  Silence fell across the line, and I realized he hadn’t asked what I was leaving out.

  “Never mind,” I said quickly. “Duty calls. I’ll update you as soon as I get the chance, okay?”

  “Be careful, Ainsley.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Once we’d hung up, I glanced at my reflection in the window…for absolutely no reason at all. I didn’t wonder if Beck would notice the three extra swipes of mascara I’d applied, the dab of eyeliner, and the slightly redder shade of gloss I’d chosen for my lips—those things would never have crossed my mind in a million years.

  For some inexplicable reason, I’d woken before my alarm clock that morning, and that was the reason I’d put on extra makeup—boredom. Butterflies had knocked against my stomach even as I’d rolled over and rubbed my eyes, struggling to read the clock across the room. It wasn’t until I’d stumbled into the shower that I remembered the reason for the nerves.

  In fact, the reason for my nerves was approaching the door this very second, so I got busy pretending I hadn’t been waiting eagerly for him since the second I woke up.

  “Good morning,” Beck said, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek as I stepped onto the sidewalk. He did it so nonchalantly he might’ve been offering a coworker a handshake or a pat on the back. “How are you?”

  My heart leapt out of my chest. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  Rubbing my hands on my black skinny jeans, I tugged my cropped leather jacket tighter around my chest and grinned. I had a backpack slung over my shoulder, but since I had no intentions to stay overnight—or keep the job a second longer than necessary—I hadn’t put anything inside it except a fluffy sweatshirt.

  I hadn’t even thought to dress like a maid, I realized, glancing down at my clothes. That showed just how long I thought I’d be staying at the castle. A few sweeps of the kitchen floor and a poke onto the second level and I’d be done before Mr. Raymond could whip out that contract.

  Beck grinned back. Then he raised his hand, a bag dangling from his fingers that smelled like heaven.

  “I am very familiar with that label,” I said, my nose pulling me closer to the bakery name stamped across the front. “Chocolate croissant?”

  “Two of ’em,” he said. “Your coffee is in the car. I didn’t know if you were a black or sweet kinda coffee drinker, so I went right down the middle and picked a cappuccino. Everybody loves a cappuccino.”

  “I’m going to die,” I moaned. “You’re perfect.”

  “They say Madame Muffin makes pastries that are magic,” Beck said climbing into the car. He handed over the bag of croissants as I slid into the passenger seat. “I take it you like them?”

  I flinched at the mention of magic. Little did he know, Madame Muffin was in fact a witch, and her pastries were very much made with a sprinkle of magic. “Like is an understatement. I love them. I’d marry her bagels.”

  He laughed, insisting I eat as much as I wanted. As we pulled away from the curb, I murmured my thanks and took a bite, staring out the window as I chewed. I wondered about Beck’s magic comment. He had probably used it as a figure of speech, but I knew better.

  Madame Muffin, who had graduated in my grandmother’s finishing school class, was one of the old women at the weekly country club. Of course I couldn’t tell Beck this piece of gossip, and the thought made me uncomfortable. We’d always have secrets between us. Ace’s words came back to me, and I considered his warning that mixing with humans was dangerous.

  If he was right, however, that would mean I should un-involve myself with Detective Beck sooner rather than later. After all, we were from two different worlds. We could hardly make a friendship work, let alone anything else. If Ace was right, we had one place to go: nowhere.

  “What’s on your mind, buttercup?” His voice was light and pleasant as he glanced over. “Nervous about the new job?”

  “I suppose,” I said. “It’s not as if housecleaning is rocket science, but I do like to do a good job and impress my clients, you know.”

  He winked. “I think you walking in the front door is enough to impress most of your clients. I like that jacket on you.”

  I sighed. It was too easy, too fun being next to him. Breaking whatever we had off would be harder than I thought.

  A few minutes later we eased past the mansion and parked a block away. Once Beck turned off the car, he met my gaze with a solemn expression, the teasing light fading from his eyes.

  “I brought you some things,” he said. “I don’t expect anything to go wrong, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  I watched as Beck pulled out a small tube of pepper spray, a walkie talkie that could fit in my palm—because sometimes basements didn’t have cell reception, he explained—and a set of handcuffs. Then he took a second look at the handcuffs and shoved them back into the bag. “Probably won’t be needing those,” he muttered.

  I had a funny joke ready, but I forgot it entirely when his arm brushed against me. He had long, lean muscles that flexed as he turned in the seat to face me, and not an ounce of fat could be found anywhere on his body.

  “Thanks for the gifts,” I said, gathering up the pepper spray and my half of the walkie talkie system. “Christmas came early.”

  “These aren’t toys,” he warned. “They are only to be used if you’re in trouble.”

  “I am trouble,” I said, wrapping the accessories with my sweatshirt and returning the pile to the bag. “My mom says so.”

  Speechless, he finally just watched as I slid out of the car. “I have no comeback to that.”

  “That’s why you should think about staying away from me,” I said, turning back with a half-hearted grin. “I’m always on the wrong side of the equation, and you’re on the right. You’re a cop.”

  “And you’re a housekeeper. It’s not like you’re the Wicked Witch of the West; you’re a nice person with a bit of bad luck around crime scenes,” he said. “And unfortunate timing.”

  I squinted at him, believing this to be just another turn of phrase. His blank stare gave nothing away, so I told myself it didn’t mean anything. There was no way he knew about magic, or witches.

  “We need a code word,” he said suddenly. “A safe word.”

  “For what?” My eyebrow crept up involuntarily. “I’m mopping floors in there, not hunting bad guys.”

  “Donuts,” he said. “That’s the safe word in case…well, in case you need help. It’s your first day on the job, and if you’re feeling uncomfortable for any reason, just mention you’re craving a donut, and I’ll be at the front door in a second.”

  I didn’t tell him that the position was a live-in one for two reasons. One, I didn’t plan to stay. Two, he’d either have a heart attack, or he wouldn’t let me go inside. Instead, I played it off with a light laugh. “You’re nuts.”

  “Can I have a goodbye kiss?”

  I hesitated, only because I was supposed to be weaning myself off of him, not playing tonsil hockey at every opportunity.

  He must have read the hesitation on my face as a no. “I brought you pastries,” he wheedled. “And no, I’m not above bribing you.”

  Leaning through the car window, I grumbled something about crooked cops. He silenced my accusations with a kiss, one that turned my insides to liquid and sent tingles down my spine.

  “Goodbye,” I said fi
nally. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Don’t forget, I’m only a walkie talkie away.”

  I waved to Beck, then blew him a kiss goodbye on my way to the front gate. Since I arrived still distracted, I took a moment to gather my focus. Taking several deep breaths, I marched forward when the front gate opened silently.

  I continued through the lawn, over the bridge, and through the extravagant landscaping, pausing outside the intimidating castle door. Raising a hand to knock, I considered shouting donut into the walkie talkie and hightailing it out of there.

  I was never able to put my plan into action, however, because the door swung open before I could retreat and a voice welcomed me from inside.

  Chapter 23

  “You’re not early,” Mr. Raymond said in greeting before either of my feet landed on the front rug. “Hurry and get changed.”

  “Changed?” I looked down at my clothes and shifted my backpack higher, wondering what he thought I’d stored in there. “I’m comfortable in this.”

  “I’ll show you to your quarters,” he said stiffly. “We’ve supplied you with seven uniforms, one for every day of the week, though you should be running more loads of laundry than that.”

  Since I didn’t want to be thrown out of the house before Beck had even finished his croissant, I closed my mouth and marched behind Mr. Raymond. He led me down a small hallway that snaked along the outskirts of the mansion. It was an unadorned, simple walkway that had clearly been constructed for the use of the help. All the other hallways I’d seen had been decorated with elegance and charm, while this space was clean and bare.

  “Go on inside. Change, and come right back out. You’re late.”

  “I walked in the door fifteen minutes early!”

  “Like I said, late.”

  Stifling a growl, I headed into my new living quarters, which amounted to nothing more than a college dorm complete with a twin bed, a small closet, and one shelving unit. I slid back the mirror that doubled as a closet door and found seven simple black dresses. They resembled cocktail dresses, but a bit more reserved.

  “This is what I’m supposed to wear?” I wrinkled my nose. “I feel like I’m going to prom.”

  Mr. Raymond rolled his eyes, but I noticed he didn’t disagree.

  “Is there any way I could just keep what I have on instead of wearing this?” I started to beg, but Mr. Raymond slammed the door in my face. It was easier to slip into the dress than argue, so I did just that.

  Since I still hadn’t seen the contract—I didn’t exactly have a copy of it—I’d done my best to piece together the stipulations of my new job. The only thing I’d really figured out was that I was supposed to live here while I was employed—that, and I was required to clean the house. I wondered if they gave me a lunch break, or maybe evenings off…not that it mattered much, because I wasn’t staying.

  “Are you finished?” He pulled the door open without a response. “Good. I’ll have someone send a set of pajamas for you by the end of the day.”

  “Pajamas?”

  “You’re living here. You’ll need pajamas.”

  “What if I like to sleep naked?”

  “That’s unsanitary.”

  “What happened to us talking about me not spending the night during the trial period? It sounds a whole lot like you’re assuming I want to stay.”

  “The Frost King will not allow negotiation on this subject,” he said. “If you’re accepting the job, you’ll live here.”

  I crossed my arms, inhaled a rattling breath, and called his bluff. “Then I’m going to quit. I have dinner with my parents tonight,” I lied. “And other stuff to do.”

  Mr. Raymond hesitated, and I let out an internal sigh of relief. He didn’t want me to quit, otherwise he would’ve had me thrown out the front door before I could say donut.

  He turned, and I scurried to follow him as he set off down the hall.

  “Does that mean you agree with me? Why are you walking away? It’s settled then, and I can go home?”

  “I figure that since you don’t want to listen to me, you can hear it from the mouth of the wolf yourself.”

  I blinked. “The wolf?”

  “The king will see you upstairs,” Mr. Raymond said. “It’d do you well to fix your hair and wipe the lipstick off your teeth before we get there.”

  “Get where?”

  “Here we are,” he said, pulling up short in the middle of the front lobby. “I will not be going any farther. I advise you to speak clearly, avert your eyes from his, and under no circumstances should you lie. Understood?”

  Before I could ask the rest of my ten thousand questions, he pushed a button on the wall, and a sphere of glass closed around me. Without my noticing, he’d backed me onto a small, circular platform on the floor. I felt like a character trapped in a Christmas snow globe.

  As it turned out, the tube was an elevator. It ascended for several floors, silent and fast. When the sphere came to a stop on the highest level of the castle, some four or five floors above the ground, I stepped out quickly onto thick carpeting, white as snow. A housekeeper’s nightmare, I thought. God forbid someone spill wine in here.

  As I congratulated myself for thinking like a housekeeper, I took in my new surroundings. I stood in the middle of the highest floor, the space open and bright with sunlight. While the rest of the house was elegant and beautiful, this space was a whole new level of lavish.

  Along one wall sat a fully stocked bar: wines with labels older than me, vodka in bottles that looked like crystal, vials of whiskey the color of my favorite detective’s eyes. On top of the soft carpeting sat several couches arranged in an L around a table made from glass. A mixture of modern and quaint, it was as if this room couldn’t decide if it belonged inside a log cabin or a museum.

  Then, from a door that blended into the wall, a tall, leggy woman emerged in a killer red suit. “Please sit,” she instructed me. “He’ll be right with you. May I get you something to drink?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. Do you work here?”

  The woman had the looks of someone from the north—dark, thick hair and eyes the shape of almonds. Her skin, tan by nature, looked untouched by the sun and creamy smooth. She didn’t need makeup to look beautiful, but she wore some anyway. “Yes, I work for the Frost King.”

  “Me too,” I chirped, trying to start some conversation. “What do you do?”

  She hesitated, and I got the feeling she wouldn’t mind sitting and answering if we were alone. However, she glanced over at the door from which she’d emerged, and shook her head. “Best not to discuss it. He’ll be here any minute.”

  “No worries,” I said with a smile. “Just thought I’d ask. I’m new here, and the place is a little intimidating.”

  She laughed, a tinkling sound like icicles trembling. The second her laugh echoed off the walls, however, she raised a hand to her mouth as if it’d been a mistake. “Yes, I can see how it would be. I’ve lived here a while, so I suppose I’m used to it.”

  “Do you like it?” I paused, then waved my hands, trying to give her enough encouragement to talk, but not make it feel forced. “Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. You already told me it’s best not to talk, and here I am yapping away. My mother always said I could talk to a wall for hours before I noticed it wouldn’t talk back.”

  She laughed again, and this time her hand came slower to cover her mouth. She took a small step closer. “We don’t get much turnover around here. I forget how fun it can be to meet new people.”

  I frowned. “Don’t you get to meet people out in town? Do you live here year round?”

  Her shoulders stiffened at the first question. Luckily, she focused on the second. “I do live here year round. I care for the house while the king is away.”

  “I haven’t seen you around town, which is odd—I only live a few blocks away. I figure I would remember you because I love that suit. I can’t dress myself to save my life, so it’s probably a good thing
they gave me a uniform.” I gave a wry laugh and picked at the thick straps of the black dress. It slid over my body like a glove, and I wondered how they’d known my size. Maybe Mr. Raymond had studied me closer than I’d thought.

  “The house keeps me busy,” she said briskly, heading over to the wet bar. “I don’t get out much. Are you sure I can’t pour you a glass of water while you wait?”

  “Sure, that would be fine, thank you.”

  “Here you are.” She clicked over to the bar, poured a glass, then brought it back to me. “Anything else?”

  I took a sip. “This is delicious! It can’t be regular water. What is it?”

  Peeking into the glass, I saw what looked like regular old tap water, with the exception of the crystals. Ice crystals shimmered throughout the glass, the water clear as air, the tiny gems of ice sparkling like shooting stars. It was hands down the most wonderful water I’d ever tasted.

  “It’s from the north,” she said. “We bring it in specially when the king is home.”

  “I could get used to this stuff.”

  Her laugh lines started to crease again, but before any sound came out, she turned rigid. “Stand,” she muttered as she clasped her hands in front of her body. “He’s here.”

  I stood quickly, bringing the water with me. I’d barely gotten to my feet before the door opened, and the Frost King himself appeared.

  “Here she is, Mr. Frost,” the woman in the red suit said to him. “Your new housekeeper. Lilah Mayflower.”

  “This is great water,” I said, when he didn’t speak. “Thank you.”

  “Straight from the best well in the Iron Range,” he said, then glanced to the woman in the red suit. “You can leave us, Rosalind. I’d like a few words with our new staff member, alone.”

  She nodded, then disappeared back through the door in the wall. I wondered what was back there. Bedrooms, maybe? An office of some sort?

  The Frost King turned his gaze on me as soon as she disappeared. At first, I might’ve said it was warm, inviting almost. However, I’d have been wrong. That was just the top layer, a shroud to hide the underlying levels of curiosity, power, and ruthlessness.