“What kinds of things did Alexander do?” I asked. It had nothing to do with the case, but the sheriff had specifically ordered us to drag our feet. Besides, I wanted to put off visiting the fourth name on that list.
Jennifer leaned forward eagerly, giving us a nice view down her shirt. “Oh, you know, he set down some rules and made sure that there were people in the police department who could enforce them. The best thing, though, was that he set up a commission to identify and help young people with magical abilities so they don’t hurt themselves or someone else. That’s how they found me. I mean, I knew I could read auras – not that anyone believed me – but until they came knocking on my door, I had no real clue about magic except for a little kitchen witchery, most of which is bunk.”
“Don’t be so sure,” I said. “Yeah, some of it is pure superstition, but some of it isn’t.”
Jennifer’s face lit up. “Thanks, I’ll remember that.”
“So how do they know who has magic and who doesn’t?” I asked.
“They have a bunch of people whose talent it is to sense magical talents in others. It’s not too far off of my aura talent. They even thought they might be able to train me to sense magical energies, but I guess it doesn’t quite work that way for me.” She frowned. “The things I see in people’s auras are more like a whisper of who they are and what they’re feeling. Like you.” She turned to face me. “You’re stubborn and independent. You don’t like it when people help you, but you feel like you have to help everyone else. Right now, you’re mixed up about something, like your loyalty is torn or something.” She paused and looked at me expectantly, like a puppy who wanted a treat.
“Um, yeah, I guess. Can you do Wesley?”
Wesley shook his head. “I’m not comfortable around all this stuff yet.”
I looked at him, surprised. “Really? You’ve been taking it so well.”
“I haven’t said much about it one way or the other,” Wesley said. “I told you I’d withhold judgment, but that’s it. So far, I have to admit that I can’t quite explain how your brother went into that burning building and came out alive, even if he didn’t manage to save Sarah Roberts. But other than that it’s all hearsay.”
“Oh.” For some reason, his revelation disappointed me. “What would it hurt to have her tell you about your aura, though? If you’re going to keep an open mind-?”
“It’s okay,” Jennifer said quickly. “Listen, I guess I’ll see you at the conclave next weekend?”
“I won’t be going,” I said.
Jennifer looked at me askance, and I had the distinct impression that she was struggling to read the why in my aura. I don’t know if she saw anything or not, but I didn’t help her.
After we left the home of Adams, Jennifer, we moved on to Atkins, Bethany, a 47-year-old wannabe who had gone to school around the same time my father had. According to Dad, she’d been jealous of him and his peers then and had never grown out of it. I gave Wesley the rundown as we approached her small three-bedroom house on the east side of town. Eagle Rock doesn’t exactly have slums, but if it did, these homes would be it. Bethany struggled to raise two children alone on the salary of an elementary school PE teacher. She had never married.
“No wonder she’s on the list,” Wesley said as we approached her house.
I could see what he meant. Wannabe or not, Bethany had picked up a few usable tricks here and there. Her front porch was dripping in ivies, a highly useful protective plant, as well as a number of runes that would have kept out everything from evil spirits to unwanted in-laws if she’d had any magic to infuse in them.
Bethany wasn’t nearly as amused about being on that list as Jennifer had been, and she didn’t waste a minute to call it as she saw it. “This isn’t a suspect list, it’s a witch hunt, and you know it.”
“Hm,” I said noncommittally.
“Look, this is my weekend with the kids, so I’ll make it quick. I couldn’t have started that fire without explosives, and I really don’t know how to use them. You should talk to your father about that.”
“Hm.”
“Not sure why anyone would have wanted to kill the pastor’s wife anyway. Not that I knew her, but it seems to me if someone wanted to lash out at those creeps, they’d go after the pastor himself.”
She had a point. Under any other circumstances, the first suspect probably would have been her husband, but in this case we didn’t have proof of arson or of any mortal means to begin a fire, which left him out of the suspect pool. Besides, he had been in church in front of hundreds of witnesses, including me.
“Thanks for your time,” I said politely to Bethany as I turned away.
We stopped next at the home of Bane, Eric, who was actually a distant relation of mine. My parents kept an extensive family tree in their library that went out to ninth or tenth cousins. I’m not sure exactly where Eric fell on that tree, but he had called on that relationship to try to get some magical training when he was a teen. My parents tested him, told him there wasn’t much they could do for him, but they did help him find his quiet place and gave him a beginner’s book on making the most of minor magic.
Eric was in college now, but home for the summer, staying with his parents. He must have read the book my parents had given him, because his parents’ porch contained all the useful protections that a person with a breath of magical ability could employ. His mother answered the door when we rang the bell, a gray-haired woman who didn’t seem at all pleased to hear about the reason for our visit.
“I never understood why those people stayed in this town if they’re so upset about witches,” Mrs. Bane said. “Yeah, there’s a nice bit of money to be made in tourism here, and some of them own hotels or resorts, but this isn’t exactly the only tourist town in the Ozarks and frankly, the sorcerers got here first.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, although I did manage a tiny amount of sympathy for the regular folks in town. We were just trying to make a living, and recent events aside, the sorcerers did tend to live above the law. “Is your son home?”
“No, he’s not,” Mrs. Bane said. “He’s out of town with some of his college friends doing a two-week camping trip. They left last weekend.”
Since that put a decided end to my line of questioning, I thanked her kindly for her time and turned away. Wesley trailed slightly behind me as we made our way back to the car.
“Who’s next on the list?” Wesley asked from behind the wheel.
I pretended to have to check, though I and my hammering heart both knew the answer. The previous night’s encounter had done nothing to put me at ease in his presence.
“We don’t have to go in alphabetical order,” I said. “It would be faster if we skipped down to the next one in town. Some of these live all over the county. Let’s see… Blake, no, he’s way down highway 81… Brown is past those resorts…”
“The Sheriff doesn’t want us to rush, remember?” Wesley pointed out. “What’s the next name?”
“Evan Blackwood.” I programmed the address into the GPS and let it guide Wesley down to the lakefront area where most of the serious practitioners lived.
“You’re kind of quiet,” Wesley said after a few minutes. “You’ve had a story about everyone else. What’s up with this one?”
“This one’s for real. In fact, he probably won’t talk to you. None of the serious practitioners will.”
“But they’ll talk to you?” Wesley asked.
“Most of them, as long as I don’t ask the wrong questions.”
“What’s a wrong question?”
I stared out the window for a minute, watching the familiar landscape pass me by. “Are you capable of magically setting fire to someone’s house?”
“I see. They don’t want to admit to what they can and can’t do.”
“Basically, but it’s more than that. Some of these people are extremely suspicious and it would really just be best if I talked to them myself.”
When I turned to
look at him, Wesley’s face had fallen into a deep frown. “I get that I’m new here, but I didn’t take this job so I could wait in the car.”
“Oh, we’re not talking about more than ten percent of this list,” I said quickly. Whoever had put the list together didn’t know much, because at least a third of the names were those of wannabes and weirdos. The only reason they had hit so many names correctly in the first place was the sheer density of practitioners in and around Eagle Rock. Otherwise, they were about as good at identifying witches as their forbears in Salem and Medieval Europe. They’d missed a number of powerful names, especially the Blairs, but at least it gave me plausible deniability when talking to people who would not be pleased to see their name on that list. I hadn’t put those names there because I would have been a lot more accurate.
“I didn’t sign up for this to stay in the car ten percent of the time, either,” Wesley replied. He gritted his teeth as if for a fight, but I decided to back off.
“All right,” I said. “But at least let me do the talking, and if they specifically say they’ll only talk to me, at least consider returning to the car.”
“I’ll consider backing off,” Wesley said. “But if these people are half as dangerous as everyone seems to think they are, then I will remain in sight at all times and not seated in a car where it would take me several seconds to react.”
His tone broached no arguments, so I didn’t offer any. But the closer we drew to Evan’s house, the edgier I became.
“What?” Wesley asked, finally. “Is this guy going to curse us or something?”
“Or something,” I muttered. Then, in a firmer voice. “I have some bad history with this one. It’s not important; just personal stuff.”
“Ex-boyfriend?” Wesley asked lightly.
“I’m not even sure if we were together long enough to count. It’s no big deal, though.”
We drove into the large circular driveway and parked directly in front of the house. Another driveway went behind the house to an attached three-car garage, but going that way without a prior appointment would trip some serious wards. An uninvited guest could not get inside the house, though they could solicit an invitation at the front door.
I had no idea whether I counted as an invited or uninvited guest.
Steeling my nerves, I strode up to the front door of that house as if I were visiting an old friend and rang the doorbell. The chimes rang throughout the house, but for the longest time, I thought no one would answer.
“I guess we’ll have to come back later,” Wesley said.
After all that anticipation, I couldn’t bear the thought of having to do it another day. I rang the bell again. Finally, just when I’d decided to leave, the front door opened. But it wasn’t Evan standing on the other side. It was Madison.
For a heart-stopping moment, I wondered if Madison and Evan were involved in a relationship, but then common sense set in. For one thing, the faint scent of lemon cleaning solution hung in the air around her. She wore a faded t-shirt and shorts, and in her right hand, carried a dust rag. To top it all off, it was Saturday, the day she cleaned houses to try to make ends meet.
“Madison?”
She glanced nervously over her shoulder. “Um, I’m not supposed to answer the door, but when you kept ringing the bell I thought… maybe something terrible happened.”
“What are you doing here?” I demanded. Then, realizing I knew the answer, I fired a new question at her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were cleaning Evan’s house?”
“I, um–” Madison looked over her shoulder again. “He told me not to tell you.”
“Not to tell me, specifically?” I asked.
“Well, not to tell anyone, really, but mostly so the rumors wouldn’t get back to you.”
“Is Evan home?”
To my surprise, Madison shook her head. I stared at my friend as if seeing her for the first time, trying to work out what was going on. Finding her here at Evan’s house on a Saturday, cleaning, didn’t bother me that much. The secrecy bothered me, and more than that – Evan had left her alone in his house. Alone. With his potions and books and God only knew what else. Since when had Madison and Evan become such good friends that he trusted her alone in his house?
My initial suspicion, that she and Evan were involved somehow, slammed back home. I simply had too many unanswered questions in my life and Madison, already at the heart of a few, had just added several more. Sure, she was supposedly involved with my brother, but I’d never understood that relationship.
Something inside me snapped. I needed answers, and by God, I was going to find them. One way or another. I hesitated on the threshold for only a second, but I couldn’t imagine Evan letting his wards hurt me.
Then, with my resolve firmly set, I pushed my way inside. For a second, I thought the house didn’t want me there after all. An intense pressure filled my chest, making it difficult to breathe. My heart missed a beat. Then, all at once, the pressure eased and I was inside.
“Cassie, stop!” Madison cried.
I didn’t listen. Pushing past her, I began my search in the den, an informal room with a big screen TV and black leather furniture. I’m not sure what clues I sought, certainly I didn’t think I would find anything as obvious as a diary, but there had to be something.
Wesley followed me inside, fuming. “What do you think you’re doing? You have no right to be inside this house, I don’t care what personal issues you have with this guy.”
I continued my search as if he hadn’t spoken, shifting aside coffee table books and thumbing through magazines. I had nearly reached for a velvet jeweler’s box when Madison got in front of me, blocking me with her body.
“You have to stop this,” Madison said, her face awash with panic. “You’ve got to leave.”
“Just answer one question. Are you pregnant?”
She sucked in her breath, and her face went deathly pale.
No, my brain protested. That couldn’t be it. I was being irrationally jealous, wasn’t I?
Wasn’t I?
“The spaghetti sauce…” I began.
“You said you wouldn’t bring that up again.”
“I lied.” Quickly, I tried to sort it out in my mind. Women pregnant with magical babies often channeled that power. Strong case in point: Kaitlin. But that wasn’t the only explanation. I mean, Madison was a songbird, so maybe she had at least a dash of talent to go with her gift. I had assumed that much already.
But how strong a talent? Strong enough to interest someone like Evan? What was it my father had told him while they were settling that debt? Maybe assuring Evan that I wasn’t drained or burned out, as he had believed? He had denied that he wanted me for any such reason. But he’d also said he loved me, and look what happened.
“Cassie,” Wesley said. “We need to go.”
“Not now,” I snapped, still thinking furiously. The thing was, I was beginning to wonder about the burned out possibility, since my talk with Cormack at his shop about wards and DNA. It was the only one of the three that made any sense, and the one that Evan had claimed to believe, for a while. There’s no way I was repressing magic, and as for being drained… Like my parents would have let that happen.
“What is going on here?” My eyes snapped to the doorway where Scott Lee stood, glaring at all of us.
Madison backed into a table so hard she knocked both it and herself over. I rushed to help her untangle herself while Scott continued to glare.
“I didn’t invite them in,” Madison said when she had righted herself again.
“Did you open the door?” Scott asked.
She bit her lip and stared at the floor.
“And you,” Scott said, rounding on me. I did not step back. “You know better than to barge into a sorcerer’s house. What were you thinking?”
I wasn’t thinking, but I could hardly tell him that, especially not right then, when I was sure I was on the right path to figuring out Evan’s secret.
> “So,” I said to Madison, “I assume Evan’s the father.”
“What?” Madison asked, her question echoed an instant later by both Scott and Wesley.
“When I asked if you were pregnant, you looked like death. You’re not good at hiding things.”
“Cassie, I would never in a million billion years do that to you. And neither would Evan.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Besides, I’m dating your brother.”
That really didn’t make sense, not even if I didn’t think they made the best couple.
Besides, my irrational jealousy had begun when I’d believed that Madison was in Evan’s house alone. She wasn’t. Evan’s best friend, who he trusted implicitly, was there. And with that inspiration, the entire foundation for my jealous rage crumbled from beneath me, leaving me weak and just as confused as ever.
I really should have made Evan tell me the truth the other night, when I had the chance.
“I’m sorry, Madison,” I said. “But, wait, are you pregnant?”
She shook her head vigorously enough to undo her haphazard ponytail. “I’m never exactly regular, so I’m just being paranoid.”
“I might be an aunt?” I asked. I think my mouth was hanging open.
“No,” Scott said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. He scowled, then added, “I’d smell it if she were pregnant.”
I shivered, thinking, Scott Lee: Human Pregnancy Detector. I’d much rather pee on a stick.
“You need to go,” Scott said. “You have no business coming in here and hurting your friend.”
“I’m sorry, Madison,” I repeated.
“It’s okay,” she said.
“No, it’s not,” Scott said.
He was probably right, but I hated to hear it.
“Evan’s been showing me basic magic,” Madison blurted, suddenly.
“Why?” I asked. “I mean, I get that you have some minor talent, but why go to Evan? Why not Nicolas?”
Mind Games Page 14
