Gone Witch

by Nova Nelson

  Bloom shut her eyes and sucked in air through her nose. “And you listened to them why?” When she opened her eyes again, there was a hint of that vengeful angel glistening in the black of her pupils.

  This was not the side of Gabby Bloom I wanted to be on. “I don’t know. I planned to look into it and let you or Stu know if I found anything.”

  She swiped her arm broadly in the direction of the blood. “Well, I’d say you found something. Now it’s time to tell us what you know.”

  Landon nodded, subtly granting me his blessing to spill it, even if it included some of his personal details, I was sure. But I didn’t need to add any of that. Instead, I handed over the letter to the sheriff. “Fritz Scandrick. That’s who this is from.”

  Once Bloom’s eyes had roamed over the words, she folded the letter neatly and tucked it in the breast pocket of her uniform. “Is he here?” she asked, looking out over the crowd.

  I scanned the faces as well. “I don’t see him,” I said. “He must still be in the compound.”

  “Or disposing of the body.” She turned to her deputy. “Send for Ted. He has a good sense for finding bodies. He might be able to help. In the meantime, don’t let anyone a step closer. And if you can, get them all to go home. Especially Flufferbum. This is already a mess without the Eastwind Watch getting hold of just enough facts to create a compelling false narrative.”

  She rounded on Landon and me. “I’m going to need to speak with you more once the time for immediate action is passed, but for now, you need to get out of here and don’t tell a soul what you know, understand?”

  We both nodded because, uh, Sheriff Bloom was pretty freaking terrifying.

  And she wasn’t any less so when she beat her wide wings and took off into the sky. My mouth fell open watching her. What did I expect, though? She was an angel. She had giant wings. Yet imagining her actually using said wings to fly was an image my mind hadn’t previously tackled.

  She soared into the twilit sky and dipped down past the wall of the Scandrick compound without another word to any of us.

  I turned to the North Wind, expecting him to be watching Bloom with the same level of awe, but what I found instead was an expression so devoid of hope, so overwhelmed with despair that not even apple pie with praline ice cream could take the edge off of it. “Come on, Landon,” I said. “Let’s get you home.”

  There was nothing else to say. The mystery of Grace’s disappearance was all but wrapped up. It looked like it was simpler than we’d thought. She had been murdered and the killer was about to be arrested.

  Simplicity could be so merciless.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My plan had been to walk Landon home, to be completely silent and make space for him to talk about his feelings if he chose to. Once he was back home, I would head into Medium Rare and work the rest of my shift.

  But that wasn’t his plan, as it turned out. We maintained a silence until we were well out of the Outskirts, and as we cut through Fulcrum Park at the center of town, he said, “I need a drink.”

  “I bet we can find you one of those.” I wasn’t sure if anyone but Anton was manning the diner, but there probably weren’t any customers there right now anyway, not with the excitement just down the road from it.

  We took a left where we would have gone straight and found ourselves at Sheehan’s Pub.

  Now, I don’t believe that alcohol is a great way to deal with life’s hardships. In my experience, it usually creates more problems than it solves.

  But the guy’s childhood sweetheart was murdered … while she was likely pregnant. I mean, come on. If ever there were a time for an intentional black-out, this was it. He’d have all day tomorrow and every other day for the rest of his life to confront the reality of the situation.

  I wasn’t sure if he was even old enough to start getting earthshaking, life-altering hangovers yet, but one of those would be enough the next day to turn him off of booze for a while and prevent any habits forming.

  While I wasn’t super hyped about the fact that my diversion from thinking about Tanner was all but wrapped up, I had no intention of drinking. I’d had my distraction, and now it was time for me to confront the reality.

  Besides, someone had to watch out for Landon.

  Word of the body beat us back to the pub. So many people worked odd hours in Eastwind that I wasn’t surprised to discover the place somewhat busy mid-afternoon. As Landon and I scooted up onto two empty barstools, Fiona Sheehan scurried up, standing on the long stepping stool behind the counter so she could see us. “You probably know about this.”

  “Know about what?” Landon said droopily.

  “The body that was found. I haven’t heard whose it is, but I did hear that it was a witch, murdered by a werewolf.”

  Landon moaned almost imperceptibly, and I replied for him. “We promised we wouldn’t talk about anything just yet,” I said. “How did you hear about it already? We were just down there. Bloom only made the arrest twenty minutes ago.”

  Fiona squinted at me. “You sure? Huh. I thought I heard people talking about it an hour ago, but”—she shrugged—“I never can keep track of time in here. It’s like spending all day in a cave. Say, the victim wasn’t a friend of yours, was it?”

  I snuck a look at Landon, whose jaw appeared clenched too tight for his mouth to open.

  “Landon knew her,” I said.

  Fiona leaned across the counter, placing a hand on Landon’s cheek. “Oh, you poor thing. I see it now. You two were friends. I’m so sorry, sweetie.” She brushed a string of his blond hair away from his forehead before straightening and adding, “Here. Let me get you something to take the sting off.”

  “Just water for me,” I said quietly, tilting my head toward Landon. Fiona had been working this job for a long time and recognized this buddy system immediately.

  “Of course,” she said, hurrying off.

  While the touch of a gorgeous leprechaun’s hand on his cheek had tempered Landon’s anguish for a moment, once she left to grab our drinks, the storm clouds settled over his head again.

  “I shouldn’t be this sad,” he said, propping up his head with a crooked elbow on the bar. “We were just childhood friends. I hardly ever talked to her anymore. We just saw each other in the dining cavern every so often and had a little chat. That was it. Why do I feel so empty?”

  “Because you were in love with her.”

  “Was not.”

  “Oh, cram it. You were. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice. I pretended I wasn’t in love with Tanner for months before finally admitting it.”

  “And look all the happiness it’s brought you,” he grumbled.

  “I’m gonna give you a pass on that since you’re grieving.”

  Fiona dropped off the drinks and Landon noted my water for the first time. “You don’t have to take care of me, you know.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.”

  He got the point without forcing me to spell it out, which was good. I didn’t think an “I care about you” heart-to-heart was what he needed at present … or what I wanted at present.

  “Nora,” came a familiar male voice behind me. When I turned, Donovan and Eva were hurrying over together from the front door. “What the fang happened?”

  “Oh, you heard?” I said dryly.

  Eva moved between Landon and me, placing a soft hand on Landon’s shoulder. “You were friends with her, weren’t you?”

  Landon nodded.

  “I’m so sorry.” She pulled him close, so that the side of his head rested against her chest, and held him there.

  Oh, you better believe I savored the tinge of jealousy on Donovan’s face at that.

  Then it occurred to me to ask, “How did you know they were friends?”

  Eva loosened her grip on Landon and turned to me. “Aural energy. I’m getting better at it.”

  “Is that a South Wind thing?” I asked.

  “Yes. It’s quite useful, but I
don’t like to bring it up because it makes people uncomfortable.”

  “What can you tell about me from my aura?” I asked.

  She cleared her throat uncomfortably, then quickly said, “You don’t want me to say here.” Her eyes jumped quickly to Donovan.

  “Yeah, okay. Maybe later,” I said hastily. “We’re overdue for an Earth girl’s night, after all.”

  She grinned, but whatever she was about to say was cut off when someone passed behind Donovan, knocking him forward into her. I reached out and steadied her before she could trip right into the edge of the bar.

  “Hey,” Donovan said, whirling around. “Easy there.”

  I didn’t recognize the man, and I wasn’t sure anyone else in our group recognized him either. He paused in his progress past us and turned slowly. “Sorry, didn’t see you there, boy.”

  Donovan puffed up his chest, and for a moment it looked like he might demand, “I’m a man!” He didn’t, though, which is for the best, since there’s nothing that makes someone seem less like a man than having to demand they are one.

  Instead, he said, “You new around here?”

  The man laughed, exposing sharp, stained teeth. “No, son. I’ve been here longer than you have. And my kind will be here long after your kind is wiped out. Mark my words.”

  Even Landon was sitting up straight now, eyes locked onto the tense exchange.

  “Ah,” said Donovan. “Werewolf then?”

  “Bet your hide. Speaking of which, you better watch your hide. I know what you did to Lucent and Slash. We don’t forget.”

  Donovan rolled his eyes. “I didn’t do jack to them. I blasted Seamus across the room for being a creep. It was your buddies who decided to shift in the middle of a private establishment.” He shook his head and put his back to the werewolf.

  That seemed incredibly stupid.

  And, as it turned out, it was.

  The werewolf closed the space between them quickly, slapping a hand down onto Donovan’s shoulder with a “Don’t you put your back—”

  Donovan whirled around, his wand already drawn. He pressed it into the were’s gut and said, “Take your hand off of me.”

  Movement in Sheehan’s came to an abrupt halt as the blast of animosity shot out from the two men, creating a heavy blanket of silence.

  Then there was movement at a corner booth, and four more men who looked not unlike Lucent, Slash, and this miscreant emerged from the shadows, stalking toward us.

  To Landon’s credit, he slid off the stool and stood as tall as he could behind Donovan in a show of solidarity.

  The werewolf kept his hand on Donovan’s shoulder and leaned close, growling, “You think this is just between you and me, boy? Try it. We hunt as a pack, and we’re willing to die as a pack. Tell me, you ready to start a war?”

  Donovan said nothing as he met the werewolf’s eyes. His nostrils twitched, then he lowered his wand. “If I started a war, your side would lose, just like it did the first time. But no, I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of being a martyr.” He forcefully knocked the hand off his shoulder. “Anyway, by the looks of it, one of yours already started a war by murdering a witch in cold blood. I know reading isn’t the pastime of choice in the Outskirts, but you might want to keep up to date with current events. You’ve all but brought the Werewolf Protection Act down on your own heads by not keeping your dogs on a chain down in the Scandrick compound.” He scoffed. “Why don’t you crawl on back home and clean up the mess?”

  Donovan turned his back again, but this time the werewolf didn’t come after him. Instead, he growled low and made for the door, motioning with a jerk of his head for his friends to follow.

  Once the door shut behind them, Fiona set a shot of amber liquid on the bar in front of Donovan and he threw it back without question. As he did, I noticed his hand was shaking.

  He leaned against the bar next to me as movement and sound returned to the pub around us. “Fangs and claws,” he cursed. “Those idiots don’t realize how screwed they are.”

  “What the hellhounds was all that talk of a war?” I asked. Had the tension between witches and werewolves been there this whole time? Had my outsider status prevented me from seeing the depth of animosity bubbling just below the surface, carried from one generation to the next?

  Landon and Eva leaned close as Donovan elaborated. “Don’t you see? The Coven has been waiting for something like this murder for a long time. The bonfire was built when Mayor Esperia proposed the Werewolf Protection Act. This murder is pouring oil on the logs. Now all we need is a single spark, and this whole town will go up in flames.”

  “He’s right,” said Landon. “Grace’s murder was just what the Coven needed to push their agenda.” He sighed, looking even more forlorn than before. “As if this needed to get any worse.”

  “I suppose I’ve been living in a bubble out at Medium Rare,” I said.

  “You have,” said Donovan firmly.

  “I always knew Tanner avoided bringing out his wand whenever possible for this reason, but I guess I had no idea just how deep the tension ran.”

  “Medium Rare is the exception,” Donovan explained. “Jane is the exception, too. For every witch who doesn’t discriminate against werewolves and every werewolf who doesn’t discriminate against witches, there are three others in this town who do. You’ve managed to surround yourself with the most tolerant in Eastwind, which is nice in one way, but now you see why it might not be in your best interest all the time.”

  Eva inserted herself between Donovan and me, addressing him. “Wanna go sit down?”

  He nodded, and the two of them headed off to a small high two-top near the scuffleboard tables.

  Landon and I settled onto our barstools again. “It’s like waking up from a pleasant dream,” I said.

  He nodded. “Ignorance is bliss until it isn’t.” He guzzled from his tankard. “Can you reach her?”

  I knew immediately what he meant. “I can try. Like I said, she hasn’t come to see me, but I can search for her a little bit once I get somewhere quieter. It’s possible she’s crossed beyond my reach, though.”

  He nodded. “That’s okay. Thanks.”

  A frigid shiver ran down my spine a moment before Ted said, “Hey there, Landon.” The grim reaper was thoughtful enough not to put a hand on Landon, which was the opposite of comfort. “Hi Nora,” he added in a more upbeat voice. “Long time no see, heh.”

  I’d seen him earlier that morning, as I always did when he came into Medium Rare and spent the first half of the day sucking down coffee and reading a book or solving crosswords or doing whatever other quiet solitary activity he could think of to pass the time until his reaping services were needed.

  “Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “Say, Landon, care for a game of scufflepuck? We can play doubles. Count Malavic is on his way over, and he thinks he and Liberty can beat us.”

  It was just what the doctor ordered for Landon, who perked up and said, “Only if Liberty promises not to use his magic.”

  “I’ll make sure he understands the rules,” Ted said, stepping to the side for Landon to move past him. Ted lingered a moment until Landon was out of earshot. Then he said, “Why don’t you go get some rest? Take some time for yourself. I can keep an eye on him.”

  I hesitated, wondering if leaving Landon under the care of Death was something a real friend would do. This was Ted, though. He’d known Landon since long before I ever came to Eastwind. And I was incredibly tired, even though it couldn’t be past four in the afternoon.

  “Thanks. Can you walk him home?”

  “Of course.”

  “And when you do, maybe just pop in and toss Hera some lettuce from the fridge.”

  He nodded. “His familiar terrifies me, but I’ll do as you say. Now go home and try not to spend the rest of the day thinking about me. Heh.”

  “Um.”

  “Death,” he added hastily. “It’s a joke. I said don’t think
about me, meaning don’t think about death. Because, you know, there was that murder.”

  “Right. Got it.”

  As I slid off the stool and made for the exit, I wished I could do as Ted suggested, but going home lately meant coming face-to-face with death …

  In the form of a gorgeous Irishman.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Before I could go home, I needed to stop by Medium Rare and make sure no one had looted the place in my absence. When I walked in, Tanner was behind the counter, rolling silverware. The diner was dead with the exception of a young fairy couple quietly splitting a piece of pie in the back corner.

  When Tanner looked up at me, he didn’t seem angry. Maybe I was losing my mind, but it almost looked like he was happy to see me. “Don’t worry about it,” he said when I opened my mouth to conjure up an excuse. “I get it. You were looking into Grace. I always knew how he felt about her, so … It’s good of you to help him find closure.” He paused, placing his hands flat on a set of silverware before he began rolling it. “Gah, I just wish it hadn’t worked out this way. Poor Grace. Poor Landon.”

  “Poor Eastwind,” I said. “I just walked Landon down to Sheehan’s and you could cut the tension in that place with a knife. Some werewolf came up and tried to start a fight with …” Warning, Nora! Danger! “… with a witch for no reason.”

  “I wish it wasn’t this way,” Tanner said, sighing. “But I guess that’s why I’ve spent my adult life hiding in Medium Rare, trying to pretend I’m not a witch. Things aren’t that way here. And I like it, but …” He shook his head and didn’t elaborate.

  The door to the kitchen swung open and Greta walked out. She paused and looked around at the empty tables. “Looks like I won’t be pulling in fat tips today,” she said. “Noted.”

  Tanner said to me, “Go get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I settled with, “Will do. See you bright and early.”

  Before I turned to leave, I whistled, and a moment later, Grim padded out of the kitchen, the door swinging behind him. “Must have been one hellhound of a lunch,” he said.