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A Witch of a Day

Page 3

by Danielle Garrett


  I dropped to my bunk and leaned over my legs, holding back a tsunami of tears for as long as I could before I cracked and began sobbing into my still-bound hands.

  Chapter 5

  Just when I thought my day couldn’t possibly get any worse, the warden came to my cell and informed me—with a wicked smile of amusement—that my SPA agent had arrived for an interview.

  “Bat wings,” I hissed under my breath, the sound like a steaming kettle.

  “Come on,” the warden commanded, snapping his fingers at me as though I were a dog. Which was amusing, considering I suspected he was a werewolf.

  I was bound with magical ties that I couldn’t break. I shuffled out of the cell and the warden steered me down a series of hallways, each one progressively darker and danker, until we reached a steel door.

  Apparently, I was trading one cell for another.

  The warden unlocked it by applying his large palm to a metal plate at the side of the door. Something clicked, and the door opened slowly of its own accord. The warden waited until it was completely ajar, and then nudged me in the back of my knee to propel me forward. Was he afraid to touch me with anything other than the steel tip of his boot? It wasn’t like I was combustible.

  The room was bright and the sudden contrast between the dim hall and the room made me squeeze my eyes shut. I blinked a few times and grimaced as Harvey Colepepper’s familiar face swam into focus.

  He was scowling.

  Naturally.

  “Have a nice chat,” the warden said before slamming the heavy door closed.

  The room didn’t have any windows, or even one of those two-way mirrors, not that a lack of one meant that no one was watching. I glanced around the perimeter for cameras or obvious wards as I made my way across the room. I took the chair across the white slab table from Harvey, who was holding a thick battered folder in front of him, his stubby finger tapping impatiently against the top. “Holly, why do we have to keep meeting under such hideous circumstances?”

  “Well, I never figured you were much of a brunch kinda guy … ” I jested.

  “Holly,” he growled, a low warning.

  I sighed and propped my elbows on the table with my hands clasped together, my wrists forged together thanks to the bonds flowing around my wrists. “Harvey, this wasn’t my fault.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Okay, so hold on. You really think that I concocted a dangerous—not to mention illegal—potion to help my ex-boyfriend to escape from jail? I mean … I know that we’ve had our differences, but you know I didn’t do this. You know me. Why would I risk everything for Gabriel? After everything he put me through?”

  He narrowed his black eyes at me. “I don’t know what possessed you. But the potion has your signature on it. There’s no denying that.”

  “I made the potion. I’m not saying that I didn’t. Honestly, Harvey, you need to give me more credit. I’m saying that I didn’t do this voluntarily. The warlock that was arrested, Gabriel’s man, approached me on the street and forced me to make the potion.”

  “Forced you?”

  “Yes! He threatened my friend Anastasia Winters’s life, for crying in a cauldron! He had someone—or something—following her. He showed me an image of her sitting in her office, wearing the same outfit she was wearing when I saw her earlier today. He told me that if I didn’t do exactly as he said, he would kill her.”

  Harvey leaned back in his seat and raked his nails over his wrinkled forehead. He really was getting too old for this nonsense. I wasn’t exactly sure what he was, but my money was on some kind of hybrid goblin. When standing, his nose barely reached my shoulders. However, what he lacked in height, he made up for with his intimidating eyes and a mouth full of too-pointy teeth. It was easy to forget he was under five feet tall.

  “Harvey, please, you have to—”

  He whipped up a weathered hand to stop me and pinched his eyes closed. “Spare me, Holly. I can’t save you this time even if I wanted to. Which, for the record, you should know that I do not.”

  I leaned forward, my fingertips pressing flat against the cool table. “What if I told you I had proof?”

  Harvey opened one eye. “What kind of proof?”

  “This warlock, he originally wanted me to take him to my apartment to make the potion. I insisted on taking him to Hummingbird Brews instead.”

  “Why?”

  I sighed. “Because Mr. Keel is paranoid and has enough security wards in place to prevent the Hummingbird from ever being ransacked. He has small cameras set up through the store. They were enchanted by the top wizard in the security sector, to make sure no magic would be able to scramble the feed.”

  Harvey’s other eye opened. “So, you’re saying that this entire encounter was caught on film?”

  I nodded and couldn’t hold back a smile. “That’s right. See, I’m not completely a lost cause.”

  He sighed deeply and I wondered if a small part of him wished that he could sign off on my imprisonment, advise me not to run my mouth in prison, and permanently get me off of his case list.

  “Harvey, please … you have to help me.” I clasped my fingers together and held them up to him. “I didn’t want to do this. All I’ve ever wanted to do is live my life in peace. I didn’t know what Gabriel was doing in San Francisco and I didn’t know about this, now.”

  He considered me closely before rising from his place at the table. He came around and set one of his large hands on my shoulder. I jerked upright in surprise. Harvey had been my case worker, aka supernatural babysitter, for nearly five years. In that span of time, he’d never made so much as an effort to wish me a nice day. In fact, he rarely even smiled, which, was actually fine with me. His sharp teeth gave me the heebie-jeebies.

  “I’ll see what I can do, Holly. But no promises.” He shook his head slowly as he considered me. “I’ve always figured that one of these days you would make such a big mess that I couldn’t clean it up and this could very well be it.”

  I nodded, dropping my eyes to my locked hands. His words were encouraging and despairing all at once.

  He left me, his hand drifting from my shoulder, and knocked on the door. The warden reappeared and let him out before taking me back to my holding cell in the same gruff manner he’d used when leading me to the interview room minutes before.

  “Now what?” I asked him as he shut me back in my cage.

  He shrugged. “Now you wait.”

  “Perfect.”

  Chapter 6

  Hours later, my stomach was rumbling despite the nauseating smell of the cell, and I could see that the sky was dark beyond the single window. I hadn’t eaten anything since my lunch with Stacy. Even then, it hadn’t been that much because talking about Gabriel and thinking about the trial had stolen away my appetite. Now, locked in the cage, I was wishing I had forced myself to finish what now felt like my last meal.

  A while ago, a new warden had come in to take the werewolf’s place, this one a petite female that didn’t look all that dangerous. She was probably a shifter or a witch; I wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t exactly chatty. As soon as she walked in, she took her place at the desk and kicked her boot-clad feet up on the edge without so much as a glance my way, and spent the next couple of hours casually flipping through a paperback novel.

  “What time is it?” I asked her, my throat scratchy from thirst.

  She leaned forward to check the clock on her computer and then flicked a glance over at me. “Ten thirty.”

  I sighed. “Thanks.”

  She shrugged and went back to reading.

  A commotion from the front of the station caught her attention. She promptly dropped her feet to the floor and pushed up from her chair to go find out what was going on. She returned a few minutes later and I smiled when I saw Harvey following in her wake. She unlocked the barred door, slid it open, and jerked her chin at me. “Come on. You’re getting out.”

  I beamed at Harvey, so relieved to see him that
I was overwhelmed by the urge to hug him.

  “Harvey?” I asked, holding out my hands for the warden to break the spell on my bonds.

  He kept his lips clamped shut.

  Once freed from the charmed shackles, Harvey pivoted on his heels. I followed closely behind him out of the station, afraid that if I paused, someone would realize that I was supposed to be back in a cell somewhere.

  When we reached the front steps of the station, Harvey broke his silence. “That was a close call, Ms. Boldt.”

  I rubbed my wrists. There were no marks on my skin, but they ached all the same from being twisted together for so many hours. “How did you get me out?”

  “You were right about the cameras. Clever magic. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

  “Mr. Keel is really paranoid.”

  Harvey nodded. “It worked in your favor today. The warlock has been arrested, the potion destroyed, and the footage has been collected as evidence.”

  “So, I can go home now?” I asked, my voice cautiously hopeful.

  Harvey’s eyes darkened under the dim street lights above us. “Not exactly.”

  “What?” My heart skittered to a stop. “Why not?”

  “Holly, I’m only going to ask you this once, and I demand that you tell me the truth, If for no other reason than I just got you out of spending a night in that horrible place,” he said, looking back up the concrete steps of the police station. “Have you been running a potion making business out of your home?”

  Bat wings.

  “Harvey, I—”

  “Stop it, Holly! Tell me the truth!” He bared his sharp teeth and a shiver ran down my spine.

  “Yes.” I winced as the confession rolled off of my tongue. I might as well turn around and march myself back to the cell I’d just vacated. Running any kind of undocumented business was against haven laws, but they were especially harsh to illegal potion businesses. The potential for danger was off the charts and therefore carried a steep penalty if caught.

  And, apparently, I could officially consider myself out of business.

  Harvey squeezed his eyes shut. “Then you leave me no choice …”

  “Harvey, please—” I was about a second away from full-blown groveling.

  “Listen to me, Holly!” he hissed, his eyes flinging wide again.

  “I am listening,” I insisted, resisting the urge to stomp my foot for extra emphasis. “Harvey, I’m not making light of the situation. I swear.”

  He studied me with thinly veiled contempt. “Holly, you’ve left me with no choice. This is not something I can sweep under the rug. I found the supplies during a search of your apartment. No one else knows and we’re going to keep it that way,” he hissed. “If the agency finds out, they’ll have your head as well as my own.”

  “Why yours?”

  Harvey tossed his meaty hands into the air. “Because I’m responsible for supervising you! After that mess in San Francisco, you were marked with a red flag. And now this …” He shook his head, fury radiating from him in thick waves. I’d never seen him so angry before. “You’ve left me with no choice but …”

  I winced. I knew where this was going.

  “Relocation.”

  The death blow to my life in the Haven stung harder than I’d imagined. I’d put three years of distance between myself and Gabriel’s evil deeds in San Francisco and worked hard to build a new life for myself. And yet, it was all unraveled by a single word.

  “Harvey, please—”

  “You’re lucky that I’m not turning you into SPA. That would get you exiled. Or worse!” He held up his wrinkled hands, effectively cutting off any further attempt to argue. He’d made his ruling.

  “How much time do I have?”

  “I will escort you back to your home so that you can pack and retrieve your familiar. After that, I will personally put you on a train away from here. You need to get out of the Havens. For good.”

  I sucked back a burst of emotion and pleaded with the stars to not let any tears spill from my eyes in front of Harvey. I’d made my choices and now it was time to pay for them.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned my eyes away from him. “What about Gabriel’s trial?”

  “After this escape attempt, his appeal petition will be thrown out. He’s not going anywhere.”

  I nodded, unsure of how to feel about the news. It was a small comfort, but considering everything else, not having to face my ex in court was certainly a silver lining.

  “We need to get going.” Harvey started down the sidewalk and I fell into step beside him.

  As we neared my building, I slowed. I desperately wanted to see Boots, and cradle his warm body—though he would probably insist on getting his missed dinner first—but I couldn’t bear the idea of going upstairs and packing all of my belongings. Again.

  Harvey didn’t wait, he kept going, promptly leading the way to the elevator. I turned to him as we rode up to my floor. “Where are you sending me?”

  “There is a halfway house for displaced supernaturals. It’s only a few hours from here. Along the coast.”

  “Displaced supernaturals?” I raised an eyebrow.

  He nodded. “A ghost runs the household and I’ve been told there is currently a shifter and a vampire in residence.”

  I threw my hands up in the air. “So, you’re sending me to live in some kind of real-life haunted mansion in the human world?”

  “It’s not a haunted mansion.” Harvey sighed and looked up at me, his eyes softening for a fraction of a second. “It was the best I could do.”

  The elevator buzzed and the doors slid open without a sound.

  I blew out a long, slow breath and disembarked. “All right. I’ll start packing …”

  It was turning into a real witch of a day.

  Chapter 7

  “I guess this is it …” I said, frowning down at Boots as we stood in front of an imposing Victorian mansion called Beechwood Manor.

  Boots meowed, the sound low and pitiful. I wasn’t sure who hated moving more—me or him.

  As promised, Harvey had deposited me at the train station with a one-way ticket and strict orders to never return to the Seattle Haven or he would personally turn me in—along with his own resignation. I slept on the train as much as I could, and when I woke up, it was pulling into the small station a few miles away from my new home. From there, I had to take a taxicab ride from a man who wasn’t crazy about having an unleashed cat in the backseat and arrived in front of the stately home just after sunrise.

  Boots and I took cautious steps up the hand-laid walk. There was nothing wrong with the house itself; it was actually a beautiful, well-kept home, and looked nothing like the haunted house I’d pictured when Harvey first told me about it. It was painted a creamy off-white and had green shutters framing each window. A cozy porch scattered with wicker outdoor furniture wrapped all the way around the house and the grounds appeared to be meticulously cared for, with mature landscaping. As the cab had pulled up to the house, I noticed a large tree line at the back of the property.

  To top everything off, the home was situated at the edge of a bluff that overlooked the town’s namesake harbor. The view was seriously something straight from a postcard. I dragged my gaze back to the front door, the sounds and smells of the ocean providing a lulling sense of calm. Though the house was formally in a neighborhood, the subdivision was far enough away that there was a serene sense of privacy to the property itself.

  I sighed heavily, the full weight of the last twenty-four hours hitting me in the chest. I hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to anyone or go to my favorite shops one last time. It was all just … gone.

  I wouldn’t be homeless, but I still felt that way, even standing in front of the beautiful manor.

  Granted, I couldn’t remember the last time someplace had actually felt like home, anyway. Not since my parents died. The Seattle Haven had come close; after another year or two there, I would’ve bee
n able to open my own business, legally, and could’ve really made something of myself.

  I huffed, disgusted at myself. So much for that plan. It was time to shift gears yet again to plan B, or C, or whatever letter of the alphabet I was on now. I’d lost track a while ago.

  Boots bashed his head against my leg, a silent reminder that I wasn’t alone.

  Tears brimmed in my eyes as I glanced down at his furry face. His amber eyes glowed up at me and I nodded. “You’re right, Bootsie. I’m never truly alone.” I stooped over and gathered the large tabby into my arms and started up the walk. “We’re going to be okay.”

  When I reached the front door, I drew in a deep breath, and raised my hand. After two sharp knocks, a voice filtered through the heavy door as loudly as if someone was suddenly standing next to me. “Please come in. It’s unlocked.”

  I dropped a glance at Boots. That was odd.

  He blinked slowly. I took that as a sign of agreement.

  “Okay,” I replied, reaching for the doorknob. I pushed into the house slowly, as though expecting an ambush on the other side. Harvey, what did you get me into …

  When the door opened all the way, I found myself staring at a ghost. Literally. She had that shimmery, silver quality that marked all ghosts. At least it explained the way she’d thrown her voice and the reason why I had to open the front door and let myself inside. She was fairly tall, probably about my height, and from the looks of her, had passed away in her fifties. Her hair was coiled up on top of her head in a tight bun and her eyes reminded me of some kind of bird of prey: sharp, alert, and somewhat cold.

  She smiled as I crossed the threshold and her expression softened. She dropped her eyes to Boots. “Oh, the SPA didn’t mention you had a cat. I guess I should have assumed you’d be bringing an animal though. Is this your familiar?”

 

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