Deadly Sweet

by Lola Dodge

  Not according to Wynn. I pulled my sheet over my head and curled up tighter in the bed. I’d always thought I knew the witching world pretty well, but the vortex sent me whirling. Wynn was from another world and I’d had no idea. “What’s the basic stuff I need to know to make sure I’m safe here?” My voice still rasped.

  “Are you wearing your rings?”

  My bare fingers curled closed. “No.” Oops.

  “Anise.”

  “They get floury.” And in the real world, wearing a bunch of giant pentagrams tended to scream witch. Between the danger of getting outed and having my hands in dough half the time, I’d kept my finger jewelry to a minimum. Now there was no reason I couldn’t flaunt pentagrams, except that I couldn’t wear rings in the kitchen. “I’ll switch up my protective charms.”

  “That’s a start. No one’s allowed to visit the vortex, but stay on the far side of town from it. Just keep a normal routine and stick with your Shield. All the Syndicate women will help you in their way, but I’ll send you the names of the few I was closest with. You’re not alone.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” My sandpaper voice didn’t exactly say how grateful I was, but I hoped she knew.

  “And, sweetie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Rest your throat.”

  “I will.” After I talked to Agatha.

  “Love you. Be safe.”

  “Love you, too.” I stayed under the covers for a few minutes after I hung up. Just the phone call had me tired out again, but staying in bed wouldn’t solve my problems.

  When I kicked off the covers, my feet dragged as much as my eyelids. I choked down another tablespoon of brew so vile my eyes watered, but even if it tasted like rotten turtle meat it soothed the fire in my throat.

  I made a slow march downstairs to Agatha’s office.

  Her office door was cracked open. I hesitated as her voice carried down the hall. “She’s resting.” A pause. “Well, obviously. The question now is what to do about it. If she—Anise?”

  Agatha’s gaze pierced me through the crack in the door. My spine straightened like I’d been caught stealing cookies from her jar. I started to turn, instincts wanting me to scurry away and maybe apologize for intruding, but this time… Agatha was definitely talking about me. If there was any chance I was really being targeted, I couldn’t run away like a scared little girl.

  Heart thumping, I pushed through the door and took a seat.

  “I’ll call you back,” she said before ending her call.

  When her full attention hit me, I fell back into the chair. But I couldn’t fade away right now. I cleared my stinging throat and asked the most important questions. “Was that an accident? Or does it have to do with Hayley?”

  I seriously hoped not. But seemed more and more likely and I’d rather know than walk around town oblivious.

  “Don’t worry your head over Hayley,” Agatha said. “She’s my problem.”

  My lips pressed together hard. “What if whatever happened to her turns into my problem?”

  Agatha’s gaze pinned me like a bug, but after a long few seconds, she must’ve seen something she liked because she gave the tiniest nod. “However many witches go to that school, it’s not a magic academy. No one should leave a potion like that out where civilians could poke at it, and whoever did is either daft or downright malicious. Did you tell anyone you were going to the kitchens?”

  I shook my head. I hadn’t breathed a word to anyone but Wynn, and he’d been with me all day. “I felt weirdly compelled to go snooping around, but I was curious to begin with and there was no one lurking in the corridors.”

  “That’s the rub. If no one knew, how could they play such nasty tricks?” She leaned back in her chair and rubbed the corners of her eyes with her knuckles. She didn’t look any different than usual, with perfect colored streaks in her gray hair, wearing the same type of clingy black dress I was used to seeing her in now, but something in the way she sagged showed a shocking bone-weariness. Somehow, I doubted my one accident was the thing giving her wrinkles.

  “What did happen to Hayley?”

  Agatha sighed. “I’ve been hoping she ran off with her man, but the Syndicate hasn’t found a wisp of her, and that girl could couldn’t ward for crap.”

  So… “What’s the Syndicate doing about it?”

  “A damn good question, cupcake. A few damn good questions.” Agatha flipped open the three-ring planner on her desk. “Let’s ask them ourselves.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The Syndicate’s meetings revolved around the moon phase, but the full moon wasn’t until next week, so Agatha called a special session for Saturday night. That gave me another full day to rest my throat. I didn’t feel full-strength yet and hadn’t gone back to class while I was sleeping through the day. At least after downing all that nasty brew, I didn’t sound like I smoked four packs a day anymore.

  Syndicate headquarters were somewhere in town, but until the year turned frigid cold, all their meetings were held outside. Agatha told me to wear hiking boots and a jacket, neither of which I had.

  I dressed in sneakers and a hoodie but parked at my desk before heading downstairs to meet Agatha. I pulled my jewelry container out from the back of the desk drawer where I’d stashed it, hoping Fondant would leave the charms alone. It was just a dollar-store plastic box, but its square compartments made it easy to separate different kinds of charms. Earrings, rings, and a few bracelets were jumbled in the squares. Mom had given them to me as gifts over the years—the only exception to her self-imposed magic ban.

  Now it was time to put them to use.

  With three piercings in each ear, it took me a minute to remove all six studs. The poison charm was tapped out, cool to the touch and magicless. It had spent itself screaming a warning I’d missed. I dumped it in the square with the other dead charms that were just regular jewelry now.

  What type of magic would protect me?

  I ran my fingertips over the metals and stones, remembering what each enchantment did. I needed a mix of defense and attack, so I picked out a matching set of glittery quartz studs that were power wells. Those would fuel any spell I needed them to when my own magic started running dry. Then a shield charm, one to throw up a strong ward, the insta lockpick that was always good to have, and Mom’s special car-starter enchantment, which still had some juice after the fair.

  I hadn’t even asked Mom about the fallout. Was she running around compelling cops to stop the investigation? A pang of guilt knifed straight under my ribs. She’d better not be. As soon as I had a chance, I needed to call home again.

  “Anise?” Lonnie knocked at my door. “You’ll be late for the meeting.”

  “Coming.” I jammed on a few extra rings, including the chunky black pentagram that had belonged to Nana. It wasn’t a charm per se, but it made me feel more connected to her, and it couldn’t hurt to have her spirit protecting me from the other side.

  Agatha was waiting for me in the garage. She wore a silky black robe, the fabric flowing down her body like cream. Feeling way underdressed, I climbed into the back seat of the SUV.

  “No Wynn?” I peeked into the back seat just in case he was passed out on the floor.

  “I’ve got you tonight. Let anyone try coming after me.” Bolts of purple lightning crackled around her fingers on the steering wheel.

  I buckled my seatbelt. No one with a brain would come straight at a witch like her.

  Agatha drove far outside town in the darkness, and I could feel every inch closer to the vortex. As the hum grew, the stars sparkled brighter in the sky and my fingers moved restlessly, itching to cast.

  The more we drove, the harder it was to focus on anything but the siren call.

  “We’re here,” Agatha said, shaking me free of the night’s magic.

  I hadn’t noticed we’d stopped driving. We weren’t anywhere particular—just a makeshift parking lot under the wide-open sky. The chilly night air shocked me out of my vortex haze. T
his was the closest I’d come to the vortex yet, but luckily we weren’t on top of the thing. I had to stay focused tonight. One, because I needed to ask my questions, and two…

  Shining my cell flashlight showed a whole lot of stubby cacti on the ground, and I really didn’t want to end tonight with my toes as pincushions. There were other cars, but no people in sight. Agatha set off with purpose, cutting through the brush on a narrow trail I would’ve missed. The moon didn’t give off quite enough light for my liking, so I hurried to keep pace with her before I lost her robed shape in the dark. The vortex’s call still crawled over my skin, but we veered left down a thin path, heading slightly away from the source. I took in a deep breath, tasting the crisp air and the energy of the night.

  The creepy-crawly magic sensation wasn’t all coming from the vortex. A certain…potential hung in the air. As if anything could happen under this moon and these stars. It took a bit more hiking before I understood why.

  We stepped out onto a plateau cleared of bushes and cacti. The flat looked over a massive gorge that split the earth in half, and moonlight glittered on the river far below. We crossed ring after ring of stones as we made our way to the group of gathered figures.

  The hairs on my arms lifted every time I stepped over a line of stones. Each ring had a protective enchantment, and the deeper Agatha and I moved into the circles the more deeply I breathed.

  It felt safe. It felt magical.

  It felt like home.

  I counted thirteen rings of stone before we made it to the center of the clearing and a cluster of log-stump chairs. Agatha let out a breath and shook her shoulders, and I found myself doing the same as a deep calm spread over me. The goodwill of all the women who’d stood here before was soaked into the soil, and if not for the chill and the potential for renegade cactus needles, I would’ve taken off my sneakers to squish my toes in the earth.

  “Agatha? Is that you?” A woman’s voice lifted above the low buzz of chatter.

  “Damned straight it is.” Agatha shucked off the outer level of her robe. “Is everyone here?”

  “Everyone accounted for.” The same woman stepped closer with a curious glance my way. “Is this…?”

  “My new apprentice.” Agatha waved a hand with a flourish. “Anise Wise, meet Jane Thurston. She represents the women of the Pueblo.”

  Jane wore the same black robes as the other women, with a curtain of long hair down her back and eyes that glittered in the moonlight. Even without a greeting, I sensed the power and tone of her energy—it was soft but incredibly strong, like millions of snowflakes about to avalanche. Just her aura had my mouth glued shut with awe.

  “Welcome to our circle.” She didn’t offer a greeting, but I didn’t blame her. In such a sacred space, I didn’t want to be throwing out casual magic. Jane lifted her voice. “Are we all ready? Sylvia? It’s your turn to lead the blessing.”

  “Ready.” A woman with a long, dark braid hanging over the shoulder of her robe stepped forward holding a plastic crate of icon candles.

  We formed into a circle as ladies passed the candles around, and I took the chance to peek at everyone. All the women gathered were middle-aged or older. No teens or twenty-somethings. I ended up holding a candle with the Virgin Mary printed on its glass and held it stiff in front of myself. I was the youngest by a solid twenty years, at least. Should I not have come along? Not that Agatha had given me a choice, but the power pouring off these women was way above my pay grade. Like, maybe in forty years I’d be their equals, but today I felt like somebody’s kid who needed a babysitter.

  Agatha nudged me with an elbow. “You’re welcome here. Just return a blessing when Sylvia offers hers.”

  Sylvia stepped into the middle of the circle and lit a long match with a flash of power. She bowed to the moon and the four directions before beginning a prayer in Spanish. I couldn’t understand the words, but the intent was clear as Sylvia’s power filled our circle. Her energy was pure silver, sparkling as it purified the earth and air and banished ill intention.

  She swept around the circle, lighting each woman’s candle and offering a few words. Each woman responded to Sylvia’s blessing with their own, adding their power to the center of the circle until our glow blotted out the moon. When Sylvia lit the candle of the woman to my right, I realized I hadn’t thought what to say.

  May your bread never burn? May your biscuits rise tall and fluffy?

  The woman next to me wasn’t much help. She started in Chinese, but my ears perked when she switched to English. “Let the spirits give us peace this night, and let the dead stay silent.”

  Her magic brushed by me as it rushed into the circle, a spectral green energy with dark, fudgy notes that reminded me so much of Blair, I’d be surprised if this wasn’t Mom’s friend, Peggy. But mid-ritual wasn’t the time to say hi, and Sylvia was already stepping in front of me.

  I caught Madre Santa and something about protection as she said her part and lit my candle. When it was my turn, I let my magic seep into my voice, crossing my fingers this wouldn’t be another burning-the-ceiling-with-power thing. I wasn’t on my A game with the vortex so close. “Let all gathered here know joy and sisterhood this night.”

  Was that too corny?

  Sylvia’s mouth turned up in a tiny vindicating smile before she moved on to Agatha at my left. Thank goodness.

  “Let the moon shed light on that which we seek,” Agatha said, her power roaring out into the mix.

  When all fourteen candles were lit, power glowed so bright around us it was like standing on some heavenly plane—only the sage-bush smell of the desert reminded me we were firmly on earth.

  Sylvia stepped to the center of the circle again, and I would’ve expected our combined magics to surge, but the other women had a much tighter hold on their power than I did. Energy fell over our shoulders like a cozy blanket as Sylvia lifted her candle high. “So mote it be.”

  “So mote it be,” the other witches spoke in unison. I was half a second behind on the response, but I managed to lift my candle right in sync.

  It still felt like standing on a cloud. The magic glowed with the strength of the women who’d cast it, and folded into so much pure, powerful mojo, I’d never felt so safe. My shoulders eased downward and my jaw unclenched. A few of the women let out little sighs and someone slipped a giggle. No one could hurt us here.

  With a nod, Sylvia stepped back into the ranks, giving Jane the center. Jane smiled as she looked around the gathered faces. “What’s first, sisters? News? Business?”

  Agatha kept silent, and I definitely wasn’t speaking up. I’d speak when spoken to and try not to draw attention to myself.

  I did sneak a peek at Peggy. Her black hair was pulled tight into a businesslike bun, and if she was my mother’s age, she didn’t look it, with an airbrushed complexion and not a laugh line in sight. Maybe she was a little stern, but I definitely wanted to say hi after this was over.

  A few ladies spoke up with news to share and when one announced the birth of a daughter in her home circle, I realized something else about the Spellwork Syndicate. Most of the women must lead their own circles around town, and the glow of our gathering made it easy to pick out how different those circles were. Agatha was a kitchen witch, and I knew Peggy was a necromancer, but I could only guess what the other women cast. A few wore shamanic-looking necklaces while others wore heavy crosses. Whatever their background, everyone seemed welcome.

  After news of an herb garden break-in, the voices lulled.

  Jane nodded. “Our other business?”

  Agatha bumped me forward and the gesture was so unexpected, I staggered a half-step into the circle. All the ladies turned to look at me and I bit my lip to stop myself from glaring. What the hell, Agatha?

  “Why don’t you introduce yourself and tell them why you’re here, cupcake?” Agatha said like it was the most obvious thing.

  Maybe it was obvious, but she could’ve given me a warning. I would’ve thought ou
t what I wanted to say. Put on the spot, I tried not to sway, and instead, gulped the calming energy of our spellwork. The safe, welcomeness that sparkled in the air gave me the strength to push back my shoulders and meet their eyes. “I’m Anise Wise. Thank you for letting me join you. Um…” This was the hard part. “Someone poisoned me, we think, and Agatha and I were wondering if there was any news about Hayley. I’m afraid whoever took her is after me now…”

  “We’d heard about the accident. You think it was intentional?” The tilt of Jane’s head said the question was more for Agatha than me, which was totally fine.

  Agatha’s head shake swung her long hair. “What idiot would leave a jug of paralysis potion laying out? It was intentional or I’ll eat my undies. But we can’t know if Anise was the target unless we know who was doing the targeting, and unless one of you had a breakthrough and forgot to text, I’ve got nothing but fluff on my Hayley.”

  “I’ve been scrying every night at the time Hayley went missing.” Sylvia rubbed her arms. “Still nothing.”

  “And she’s not among the dead,” Peggy said.

  A wispy woman with thick, round glasses piped in. “I haven’t found her dreams.”

  Not among the dead was a good start. Maybe Hayley was hiding after all? Just because the Syndicate witches were crazy powerful didn’t mean they’d be able to find someone who didn’t want to be found. Outside of town and far away from the vortex, Hayley might have figured out how to avoid their scrying.

  Glasses lady cast a furtive look at Jane. “I still vote for a time-space regression. If we gather at the vortex—”

  “Ramona.” Jane’s whip-sharp voice cut across the night, making me shiver down to my toes.

  “I’m sorry.” Ramona ducked her head. “I know it’s on Pueblo land, but—”

  “No.” Agatha’s voice was equally sharp, but closer this time. I almost wanted to cover my ear. “There’s no but. We don’t tread on Pueblo land and we don’t play with the vortex. Full stop. Especially not to cast some madness that would probably see us all in coffins. We’ll walk that path when the moon falls and the rivers turn to blood and no one else can fix it. Not because of some silly tart who probably ran away.” Her voice was iron until that last line, but I couldn’t read Agatha well enough to tell if she believed the runaway theory.