Death's Hexed Hobnobs: Mystery (January Chevalier Supernatural Mysteries Book 2)

by Ruby Loren

  January folded her arms. “Are we really going to argue about that now? I followed a guy because he looked weird. He disappeared and I heard the hunters. That’s all there is to it. He wasn’t a lead, because he vanished into thin air… by turning into a cat.”

  “Okay, fine, just say something next time.”

  January pulled at her white blonde curls, feeling like her head was about to explode. “I will if I remember, but there was a lot more to think about that night - like us all almost being wolf chow. You’ve got to forgive a few things. I’m willing to let the wolves at the bar thing go. I’m sure you didn’t want to add to my stress levels, but you can’t be picking at every single thing I do.” Her eyes widened and she looked at her were-jaguar boyfriend, wondering where the relaxed and confident man she’d first fallen for had gone.

  This man had shadows beneath his eyes and a nervous twitch. He’d even started to lose muscle mass, she noticed, probably from spending so much time at the bar instead of the gym.

  “I think you’re working too hard,” she said and he practically exploded in her face.

  “Shut up about stuff you know NOTHING about! I am doing what needs to be done. Everyone is relying on me to do this, and I am not stopping for anyone. Just carry on with your spells and lucky charms and keep me out of it. I’m leaving.” He turned and walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

  January stared after him in shock. How had one sentence affected him so badly? Perhaps it was just what he’d been building up to saying for the whole conversation.

  She sat down on a bar stool and turned the coffee machine on, not taking the usual comfort from the blorping sounds, as it cleaned itself.

  “Well, I guess that’s that then,” she said aloud, feeling like there was this big hole in her stomach.

  The house seemed so empty now there was no Ryan and no Simon in it. She supposed, in time, she would get used to it again. In the past, she’d loved being alone, but now she’d experienced something different, she knew she was going to miss having someone else there with her. Maybe I could get a roommate, she thought and then realised she was already writing off Ryan. He just sounded so final. She took a sip of the latte she’d just made and stared at the milky coffee for a few moments, before making her mind up and reaching for the brandy.

  Four brandy-lattes later, she still hadn’t managed to make sense of her last conversation with Ryan and the room was starting to spin. She had work in the morning and the morning wasn’t actually that far away. She hoped things would look better when the sun rose, but very probably, the hangover she was going to have would make them seem a whole lot worse.

  January had just closed her eyes when there was a tap on the window pane. It was followed by several more, as if someone had given up throwing small pebbles and had decided to throw a whole handful of gravel instead. She groaned and rolled out of bed, staggering due to the effects of the alcohol.

  “What?” She called down after she’d wrenched open the winter-stiff window and saw Gregory standing on the gravel.

  “I just heard you were alone and thought you could use some company.” He smiled up at her.

  January frowned back down. “How did you ‘just hear’?”

  “Trade secret. Can I come in?”

  January knew she should probably give him points for asking instead of just breaking in, but she wasn’t feeling reasonable, and Gregory was the last person she wanted to see when she was struggling to get a grip on her feelings.

  “No. I really need some sleep. I’m working tomorrow and I’ve had too much to drink.”

  Gregory’s eyes sparkled. “So, it was a really bad fight.”

  “That’s none of your business,” January told him.

  “How did the magic lesson go?” Gregory asked.

  January wondered if he’d bugged the house. She wouldn’t put it past him. She made a mental note to buy a bug detector the following day.

  “It was good,” was all she was willing to share. Sharing details had only got her into trouble so far this evening. She wasn’t making the same mistake again.

  Anyway, Gregory never shared anything with her.

  “I thought Tor Bennett was probably the right person to teach you,” he said.

  January felt like punching him. “You knew about him? Why didn’t you tell me when I was trying to find someone to teach me magic?”

  Gregory tried his best puppy-dog look on her. “I couldn’t! He hates vampires and if he knew we were in contact, he wouldn’t teach you. You didn’t mention my name, did you?” He suddenly looked anxious.

  January rolled her eyes. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t talk about you all the time.”

  “You had to find him for yourself in a way that was believable. I’m sure he was waiting for you to find him on your own, too. The moment you bumped into the Witchwood coven, he’d have known about you.”

  “I’ll make a mental note to never talk about my many vampire buddies when I’m with him. Thanks for the tip.” For a second, Gregory’s face clouded with what she thought might be jealousy, before he realised she was joking. “Night Gregory. Oh, and thanks for the cake mould. Please don’t break into the house again.”

  “I wasn’t breaking in. I was making the checks that a good landlord should make!”

  “You’re meant to give notice when you do that.”

  Gregory flashed her a fanged grin. “But we’re old friends! I think we’re past the formalities.”

  January sighed loudly. She felt the final warmth of the brandy melt away. Now she was cold, miserable, and alone in the big old house. It wasn’t a good way to be feeling when there was willing company stood right outside her window.

  “Night, Gregory,” she said, shutting the window firmly against the temptation.

  13

  January was woken by a knock at the door, which was fortunate, because she’d forgotten to set her alarm. She glanced at her phone, saw it was seven o’ clock already, and swore. She wouldn’t even have time for her coffee this morning.

  Then she remembered someone had knocked at the door.

  She didn’t even bother to throw a dressing gown on over her zebra print pyjamas, hoping that this early morning call was from Ryan. He must have realised he’d overreacted!

  “Oh! Hi Simon,” she said, puzzled by the reappearance of the man she’d thought she’d seen the last of the previous night.

  His suit now had a rumpled look about it and there was a very sheepish expression on his face.

  “Hi January. I just thought I’d come by and apologise for the way I behaved yesterday. It wasn’t exactly grateful. Thank you for making me human again.”

  “That’s okay. No one should be forced to stay a cat against their will,” she said, knowing how crazy that sentence sounded.

  “I was just wondering…”

  January raised her eyebrows. She’d known that this was more than just a thank you call. It was way too early in the morning for that.

  “I was just wondering if I could stay with you for a bit? I went to find my boyfriend last night, and I found out he’s been seeing other men while I’ve been a cat.” Simon frowned like this was completely unreasonable. “Even when I spent all the human time I could with him!”

  January tried to think that one through. “Maybe he thought it was strange that you kept disappearing?”

  Simon shrugged like this was irrelevant. “Now I’m around full time, he doesn’t want to know. Having been a cat, I haven’t exactly got a job. The house I used to own is currently in my father’s possession because everyone thought I was dead.”

  “Perhaps you should be talking to your father about this,” January politely suggested. That earned her a glare from Simon, who quickly ironed out his features again when he remembered he was supposed to be sucking up to her.

  “It’s probably not a good idea for me to contact my father. I’m likely to find myself a cat again… or worse.”

  January look
ed out across the gravel parking area to the grass and trees beyond, all covered in frost. It was shaping up to be a beautiful, but cold, day.

  “Fine. You can stay in the spare room, but you have to figure out your own food arrangements. As soon as you can get a job, you pay rent, or find some other place to live. Does that sound fair?”

  Simon nodded, enthusiastically. “Any other rules?”

  “If you come in late, stay quiet, and don’t bring anyone else home with you. I know that sounds unreasonable, but I’m pretty paranoid about people I don’t know right now.”

  “It’s okay, I understand. I have pretty much been a fly on the wall in your home for the past several months.” January felt all kinds of weird about that, but it was best if they just didn’t talk about it too much. “I’ll be the perfect housemate, I promise,” Simon said.

  January raised an eyebrow at him to show he was laying it on a bit thick. “Don’t make me regret it,” she said, feeling like she was being exceedingly stuffy and boring.

  Simon rushed past her and went to install himself in the spare bedroom.

  January looked down at her pyjamas and sighed. When would she learn not to answer the door in them? She stayed on the doorstep for another few moments, trying not to think back to when she’d first met Ryan in the same outfit she was wearing now. She shook herself. She was late again!

  He’ll come round and apologise soon, she thought, when she threw on her work clothes. Surely at some point he would realise he was the one in the wrong?

  “Dark chocolate beetroot cake with bacon and maple syrup icing?” January read the label Danny had just finished writing and looked at the cake, dubiously. As usual, it was a work of art, but January wasn’t sure how she felt about bacon on a cake.

  “I’m upping my game for the Cake Off competition. I still haven’t decided on my big finish cake, so I thought I’d try a few things out, while there’s still time.”

  January nodded and looked at the cake, so that Danny wouldn’t see her uncertainty. She’d been thinking of using her boozy carrot cake recipe for her big finish cake, but yet again, everyone else seemed to be thinking way more out of the box. Would she lose points for being boring, or should she simply rely on her flavour and cake quality to see her through? It was hard to know what to do.

  “What’s the special today?” Mr Tibbett, a regular at Madame Rose’s tea rooms, asked January. She told him. The look on his face mirrored her own feelings exactly.

  “I’m sure it will taste great if Danny made it, but why does it have to be so strange? What’s wrong with a nice Victoria sponge?”

  January nodded in agreement and then went to cut him a slice of the normal Bakewell tart, tray bake she’d made that morning. So far that week, the specials from Lucy and Danny had included a parsnip and ginger cake and even a courgette and lime combination, which had been a dubious shade of green. Despite them tasting good, sales of the specials had definitely dropped. She had a feeling that their customers would be glad when the Cake Off competition came to an end.

  “It’s all well and good when they do this stuff on the telly, but cake should just come in normal flavours,” one lady said to another, as she picked a piece of bacon off her slice of the special.

  “Just give it a try! You might like it,” Danny wheedled, but he was fighting a losing battle against the older ladies, who knew what they wanted when it came to cake.

  “January, what are you making tomorrow?” One of them asked her, speaking as loudly as possible.

  January looked away from Danny. “Clementine cake with chocolate icing,” she admitted, feeling like she was committing some kind of boring cake crime. “It’s gluten free!” She added, wanting to sound like she was trying to be interesting. The two ladies exchanged a puzzled glance at the ‘gluten free’ thing but otherwise looked satisfied.

  “That sounds like a nice, normal cake,” the lady told her with a beetroot tinged smile.

  January grimaced, feeling her worries about Cake Off increase tenfold.

  “You’re making something gluten free. Why?” Danny asked, when they’d both popped back into the kitchen.

  January started putting away the baking equipment. She noticed that Danny had used her silicon mould to make his cake. Good, it was being used.

  “It’s just the way the recipe is. It’s made with ground almonds so it’s really moist and like a drizzle cake, without the need to add syrup,” she explained.

  “That still sounds a little wacky for you,” Danny teased.

  January pouted. “I can be creative! I’m more than just chocolate cake…” She wiped some flour off the unit into her hand.

  Danny patted her shoulder. “Ignore what Lucy and I are doing. I think the real reason I’m trying out all of this stuff is because I think it’s really messing with Lucy. She keeps trying to compete and do something even more unusual, and it’s absolutely hilarious. I know it’s really immature, but I just can’t stop now. Sometimes she asks me what I’m making next, and I just make something up! I think I told her my next bake was rhubarb and mustard - and she believed me.”

  “I wish we knew what the judges are looking for! Do you think they want something interesting and unusual, or will they be thinking about what will actually sell in a cake shop in this area?” January blushed when Danny shot her a look. “Your bacon cake is great! Some people just like to stick with what they know. Their loss,” she added.

  Danny lightly punched her on the arm. “Suck up.”

  “Things are pretty quiet out there today. I think I might make the special now. It’s one of those cakes that’s better after it’s a day old,” she explained.

  Danny gave her a goofy thumbs up and went back to serve the few people left in the café.

  Things had been pretty quiet in general, January reflected, as she added the clementines to a saucepan full of water. No one had tried to kill her since the flying sword, which had almost taken off Gregory’s head. She thought the same person had probably been present at the full moon meet, when Ryan had lost the scent, but clearly they’d only been there to spy on her.

  She didn’t like it.

  All of this silence was building up to something big. January didn’t want to admit it, but this bounty hunter was doing everything by the book. They’d got the measure of their mark with their initial test attack. She knew they would now be watching her every chance they got, figuring out the best way to kill her. Every time January had done the exact same thing, the job had been an easy success. She knew if she let this hunter carry on unchecked, the outcome was likely to be no different.

  I’ve got to find them, she thought, and found she was itching for Tor Bennett to contact her to arrange her second magic lesson.

  “January, there’s a phone call for you.” Lucy stuck her head around the doorway. “They sound like a weirdo, but that doesn’t surprise me,” she added.

  January felt a strange tingle run through her when she reached out for the receiver. It should have told her all she needed to know.

  “Hello?”

  “Kill Gregory Drax and your contract will end forever,” the voice at the other end of the line said.

  “No more killing vampires and I get to live a life free from assassination attempts?” She wanted to get this straight.

  “Correct.” The line was cut and January was left with her head spinning.

  One more job and she could be free from the threat of the Old Ones forever. She could focus on leading the pack and use the money she had to open her own bakery and give her dreams a real go. She’d never have to mix with vampires again.

  And all she had to do was kill Gregory Drax.

  14

  “Hell’s bells!” She said as she drove home after work. The get out clause had been on her mind all day, but as much as she thought about it, she knew she couldn’t do it. Gregory had somehow turned into her friend in the time since she’d met him. Killing him would feel like a complete betrayal.

  Her sto
mach gave a little flip when she thought about him dying the way vampires did, in an explosion of gore - then no more Gregory.

  “You need to sort out your feelings,” she whispered to herself.

  She pulled out her keys and almost put her hand on the doorknob. It was only because she happened to look at it out of the corner of her eye that she saw the faint blue glow. January frowned, wondering what the spell did. She thought about reaching out with her magic and trying to find out by unravelling the spell, but didn’t feel confident enough to risk it. Before she could think of what to do next, the door was opened by Simon.

  “Why are you just standing there?” He asked.

  “The doorknob…” She said, pointing to the front door and hoping for Simon’s sake that the spell was just on the outside. Otherwise he’d just put his hand in it.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s mine. It’s a little spell that lets me know who’s at the door. That’s how I knew you were here. It’s a sensor spell. It’s a nice piece of magic, don’t you think?” He looked at the doorknob, admiringly, like he was checking out a classic car.

  January sucked air between her teeth. “This is my house, Simon. You could at least ask before throwing spells around the place. Especially when you know there’s a witch out to get me.” Actually, she wasn’t sure if they were actively seeking her at the moment, she realised, thinking of the phone call. There was always a chance that the Old Ones would give her a few days’ grace to kill Gregory. But then, there was always a chance they’d done no such thing and were simply waiting to see who emerged the victor from this mess.

  “I was going to tell you as soon as you got in!” He smiled and looked so pleased with his work that January felt her annoyance melt away. Was one little spell really such a big deal?

  “Could it work for me, too? I wouldn’t mind knowing who’s at the door,” she said, thinking of her habit of answering the door in her pyjamas.