Sweet Murder Hex (Sweetland Witch) (A Cozy Mystery Book)

by Zoe Arden

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means that we can't trust anyone. They've got witches and wizards paying them visits, offering their services."

  "Why would a witch or wizard offer to help Vlaski or his cronies?"

  "In exchange for safety... and power. Vlaski has started offering an immunity of sorts to any paranormal who will help him. Those who do are promised not just safety from his group, but a position of influence within his administration once things begin to unfurl."

  "His administration?" I had to laugh. That sounded like Vlaski was working out of an office building instead of hiding out in forests and graveyards.

  "It's no joke," Russell said seriously.

  "I'm sorry. So, what am I supposed to do?"

  "Just keep your eyes open." He handed me a slip of paper with a number on it. "If you see Melbourne or Vlaski, let me know."

  "I will," I said. Russell left and since my silent moment to myself was gone, I decided I might as well make my way to the bakery. I took a quick shower first and made a light breakfast. I wasn't hungry now, but I knew I would be later.

  On my way to the Mystic Cupcake, I passed an appliance store. There was a TV in the window, declaring the fabulous sale taking place inside. The television was showing a picture of Dean Lampton. Beneath it was the caption: COMHA HEAD ASSAULTED. Then there was a flash of video where Dean was being wheeled out of COMHA headquarters on a gurney and put into an ambulance.

  I couldn't hear the sound, but I didn't need to. One diligent reporter had managed to snap a picture of Dean's face. Both of his eyes were black and his nose looked like a battering ram. Colt's image flashed across the screen a second later. My heart stopped.

  "Ava," a voice behind me said. I turned slowly and saw Colt standing there. His face was white. There was dirt smeared just under his left eye.

  "Colt!" I cried, reaching for him.

  "Sssh!" he said, hurriedly pushing my hands to my side so as not to draw any attention. "I can't let people know I'm here. They're looking for me."

  "I just saw your picture on TV," I said, pointing behind me to the display window of the shop.

  "They probably pulled it from the security footage. COMHA has cameras everywhere."

  "Colt, what happened? Did you...?"

  "No," he snapped. "I didn't touch Dean."

  "Then who did?"

  "I don't know, but it wasn't me."

  "Then why are you here? Shouldn't you be talking to someone? Helping them with the investigation?"

  "You don't get it, Ava. I didn't attack Dean but COMHA thinks I did. They don't want to talk to me. They want to hurt me."

  "So, what are you gonna do?"

  He shrugged. "What can I do? I'm going to get out of here while I still can."

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-NINE

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  Dean's assault was huge news. It almost managed to dwarf the impending war with Mistmoor Point. Sweetland residents swarmed the shop, asking me about Colt. They all knew that we were dating and hoped I had details. I couldn't even hide in the back room. People kept walking behind the bakery counters, pretending to look for a bathroom, really wanting to find me and make me give them the scoop they needed to be a gossip mill star for a day.

  "Just go home, Ava," my dad finally told me after the fiftieth attempt to get to me in the back. All I wanted to do was work on my extracts; was that so much to ask?

  "Your father's right," Trixie said. "Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow's another day. Maybe they'll have caught the real culprit by then." I smiled gratefully at her. She hadn't once questioned Colt's innocence. She'd simply assumed it.

  "I guess you're right," I said, taking off my apron and setting it aside with the new peppy extract I was working on. "I'll just see you guys later."

  At home, I sat on the back porch, drinking lemonade and watching the clouds roll by. I tried to make shapes out of them but everything looked like Colt to me. He had told me he was running, but he hadn't said where to. I'd told him running was stupid. It would only make him look guilty, but he'd gone anyway.

  "Tell my dad I'll catch up with him later," he'd said, then kissed me and vanished. I didn't even know if he was still on Heavenly Haven. It was a small island but there were lots of hiding places.

  I heard a noise from inside the house and went to investigate. It was coming from my bedroom.

  "Snowball?" I asked, one foot on the stairs. No answer. "Tootsie? Rocky?" No one was supposed to be home right now. Even the familiars had gone out to play and soak up some of the Heavenly Haven sun.

  I climbed the second stair. The third. The fourth. A man suddenly stepped out on the top landing and I jumped, almost falling down the stairs I'd just climbed. He caught my hand just in time to steady me so I didn't break my leg, or worse.

  "Melbourne! What are you doing here?"

  I was angry he'd come back. Luckily for me, anger was a better emotion than fear. Fear made you too scared to act. Anger made you want to do nothing but act. I reached out with one fist and tried to punch his nose like a boxer. Melbourne ducked and caught my hand. I'd never said I was a good fighter, but that didn't mean it wasn't worth a shot.

  "Calm down a second, Ava. I need to talk to you."

  "I have nothing to say to you," I told him, trying for a second swing.

  "Well, I have something to say to you."

  "Listen to him, Ava," said a new voice from behind me. A woman's voice. I turned to see Trixie standing there.

  "Aunt Trixie? What are you doing here?"

  "I told your father and Eleanor that I had to go get a new batch of AB positive. My brownies are selling out fast," she said, smiling.

  I wondered if people really thought there was blood in those brownies of Eleanor's. Something told me that more than a few of them thought it was nothing but a joke. A bakery stunt designed to raise a few eyebrows and elicit a customer response.

  "Ava, I need to explain some things to you. You don't understand what's happening." Melbourne's eyes pleaded with me.

  "I understand plenty," I snapped at him. "Trixie, you're being tricked. Melbourne is just using you."

  "No, Ava, you're the one who's being tricked." Trixie was looking at me like I was a sad, lost puppy. It infuriated me.

  "I don't know what he's told you to convince you that he's not the evil warthog I know he is, but I have proof. There's a picture of him and Vlaski Ambrose—"

  "Standing together, smiling, I know." Trixie was reaching into her purse for something. "I've seen the photo, Ava. Or rather, a copy of it."

  She pulled the photo out and held it up for me to see. It was an exact copy of the torn one Russell had given me. Melbourne started pacing the room. "Ava, that photo was taken a long time ago. You have to understand, I was a different person then."

  "So, you weren't a blood-sucking vampire intent on destroying the world?"

  Melbourne's eyes flashed irritation. He looked at Trixie, who was sifting through her bag. Aunt Eleanor had told her a thousand times to use a smaller bag, but she insisted on having a purse as big as a beach.

  "Here it is!" Trixie suddenly cried. "I knew it was in there somewhere!" She pulled a book out and held it up for me to see.

  The Last Vampire.

  "You found it," I said, impressed. I'd looked everywhere and hadn't come close to finding it.

  "It wasn't too hard. I know a lot of Melbourne's hiding places. I just had to find the right one."

  I looked from Melbourne to my aunt. "So... You found the book. Great. Now what?"

  "Don't you want to see it?" Trixie asked.

  I had to admit I was curious. Melbourne had made such a stink about finding this book. Even Vlaski had asked about it. And Russell. It seemed to be the first and foremost thing on everyone's mind. At least, every vampire's mind. That meant it was either important or dangerous. Or both.
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  I reached out for it. "Okay, fine, let me see."

  Trixie started to hand it over but Melbourne snatched it away. I shot Trixie a look, imploring her with my eyes to believe that Melbourne was up to something. He had to be. Only why did he need Trixie? He had his precious book now. Why wasn't he drinking her blood? What more could he want?

  "I need to explain a few things first before you look at this," Melbourne said.

  "Like what?"

  He looked uncertainly at Trixie, who nodded toward me, encouraging him to get on with it. I wished he would. Standing so close to him gave me the heebie-jeebies. Clearly, whatever he was planning wasn't over yet or he'd be trying to kill me right now instead of talking to me.

  "When I first underwent the transition from wizard to vampire," Melbourne began, "I found it very... difficult. I wasn't prepared for what lay ahead of me."

  I nodded, trying to look interested as my mind attempted to create an escape plan. The stairs led to the front door, which was, of course, the easiest way out. If I could make it to my bedroom, I could probably get out the window and use some kind of float spell to help me get over to a tree or something where I could climb down. I'd never make it to any of the brooms we had in the house. Not in time, at least. Melbourne would have his hands around my first before I ever got the closet door opened.

  "When I first met Vlaski," Melbourne continued, "he was very charming. Seductive. I was scared and he promised me a way of life that offered safety. Everything he said to me made sense at the time. I just didn't realize until later how much deception was going on."

  "How much?" I asked him, curious.

  "Everything Vlaski ever told me was a lie. He'd spoken of a great vampirical universe. One in which vampires were free to roam about as they pleased. Where they weren't watched or persecuted, but respected and feared."

  I scoffed. As far as I knew, vampires were already feared. They always had been. Some more than others. Sweetland had always been pretty kind to Melbourne. We understood here that vampires could change. There were so few that actually still drank human blood, and if they did, it typically came from blood banks, so no one got hurt. Of course, that was the old Melbourne. I imagined this new Melbourne drank as much blood as he wanted, from whomever he wanted. Trixie and I were probably next on his list.

  "When I found out that Vlaski was lying, that he was talking about world domination and not a peaceful existence with man, I got out. As fast as I could, but it wasn't a simple thing to leave the Cult of V. We didn't even call it that at the time. It was just Vlaski's little gang. We were his groupies."

  "So, you left the groupies," I said, trying to push his story along.

  "Yes. And I tracked him. Followed him. Just as I told you."

  "Why?"

  "To stop him. So that his true plan could never be enacted."

  "But why would you care so much about stopping him?"

  "Because I felt partially responsible. Until I learned the truth, I'd... behaved in a reckless manner. One which may have resulted in the deaths of... several people."

  I gulped. "Did you bite them?"

  "No, but I didn't save them, either. There was a small group of witches and humans working together to bring Vlaski down. I unwittingly led Vlaski right to them. He was merciless."

  I alternated between extreme sympathy for Melbourne and extreme anxiety that I was standing so close to a killer. He finally handed me the book.

  It felt old in my hands. The cover was stretched leather. The pages were vellum. It smelled ancient. I turned to the page. Melbourne's name was at the top, like a kid in elementary school who writes their name in their books. I started flipping through it, carefully, scrolling the contents. It really was more of a journal than a book. Melbourne had described it that way but it was different seeing it in person.

  There were outlines, diagrams, sketches. Photographs far worse than the one I'd seen of Melbourne with his arm around Vlaski. In one picture, Russell appeared to be circling a man bleeding from his neck, an awful smile on his face. Vlaski stood in the background, cheering him on.

  "What is this photo?" I asked, holding it up.

  "Keep looking," Melbourne said.

  In the back of the book was a sort of reference area. I scanned it quickly. The very last page contained a list. Written across the top was "V Members." There were about two dozen names listed. The very last one was Russell Hudson.

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY

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  My head snapped up. "You expect me to believe this?" It was ridiculous. I looked at Trixie. "There's no way that Russell Hudson is working with Vlaski."

  "It's true," Melbourne said. "Vlaski recruited him about thirteen years ago, shortly after his disappearance."

  "Okay, there are so many things wrong with what you're saying right now. First of all, Russell didn't disappear, he was murdered. Second... well, second, why should I believe anything you say?" I turned to Trixie. "His last name isn't even Hammond, did you know that? It's Winslet."

  "I know," Trixie said softly.

  "You know?"

  "I know everything, Ava. Melbourne and I had a long talk the other night. He told me the truth about everything that's been going on."

  "Fine. Believe him if you want, but I don't."

  "Why is it so difficult for you to believe that Russell is working with Vlaski?" Melbourne asked.

  "Because he was a COMHA agent. That was his job. He worked undercover. Look, maybe you're not lying. Maybe you're just confused. Russell was deep cover. That means only a handful of people knew his true identity."

  "Including Dean Lampton?"

  I hesitated. "Yes, including Dean. Why?"

  "I heard he was attacked," Melbourne said, his eyes glassy and dark.

  "Yeah. It's all over the news. So what?"

  "The reporters seem to think it was Colt who did it."

  Anger fumed inside me. "It wasn't Colt! It was... well, I don't know who it was, but I know it wasn't him."

  "How do you know?" The calmer Melbourne's voice remained, the more irritating I found it.

  "I know because he told me."

  "So, you take Colt's word but not mine?"

  "Yes. I know Colt. Very well."

  Trixie spoke up. "And I know Melbourne. Very well."

  Trixie and I were glaring at each other. Melbourne raised his hands in a placating gesture, as if he'd just been told to freeze.

  "I understand why you take Colt's word on things, but why take Russell's?"

  "Because he's Colt's father," I said. "And a COMHA agent."

  Melbourne shook his head. "You contradict yourself and don't even realize it. You told me that Russell was a COMHA agent. Is he still?"

  "I... I don't know. I guess not. Why?"

  "And you said he didn't disappear, he died. Yet here he is. Alive and well."

  "I'm not sure I'd say he was alive and well, precisely."

  Trixie sighed. "You know what he means, Ava."

  "Fine. Russell is alive. So?"

  "So, someone's being lying to you, and it hasn't been me. I may have left out a few details here and there, but I never told you a direct lie."

  My stomach was sinking into a giant pit. I could feel my insides twisting and churning.

  "You're saying that Russell is a member of Vlaski's gang?"

  "He wasn't at first, but sometimes the transformation—the turning—changes people. The Russell who was Colt's father worked to bring Vlaski down, but once he became one of them, things changed."

  "How do you know all this?" I asked.

  "I've seen them together. I've watched their movements. Russell is here now because Vlaski ordered him to be."

  "But why? Why would Vlaski want to reunite Colt with his father? Don't tell me it's because he cares."

  Melbourne smiled. "No. It's not that." He looked at Trixie, w
ho nodded.

  "Who attacked Dean Lampton?" Melbourne asked.

  "If I had to guess... Vlaski Ambrose."

  "Wrong."

  My heart was starting to skip beats. Ba-ra-thump. Ba-ra-thump. Ba-ra-thump. Ba — thump. I inhaled sharply. "You're saying Russell attacked Dean? But why?"

  "Because Dean knows the truth about him. All of it. Now that the cat's out of the bag and Colt knows his father is still alive, it's only a matter of time until he learns the rest."

  "Then why wouldn't Vlaski or Russell just kill him?"

  "They plan to, but they can't yet."

  "Why not?"

  "Ava," Melbourne said, "who do you think killed Rachel Sessler?"

  My throat was dry. "Vlaski," I mumbled.

  Melbourne shook his head. "No."

  "Russell?" I squeaked. He nodded. "But why? She was just the mayor's assistant. What could she possibly know that was dangerous to them?"

  "Nothing. That's the thing. Rachel was killed because Russell was hungry. He had to feed, and he chose to feed on her. It was nothing more than bad luck for Rachel. The wrong place at the wrong time. It could have been anyone; she just happened by."

  I was trying to wrap my head around everything. It was too much too fast.

  "So, if what you say is true, why reveal himself to people after all this time? Why is Russell trying to reconnect with Colt? You said Vlaski ordered him to, but for what reason?"

  "Because Colt has something that Vlaski needs. Something that only he can give."

  "What?"

  "His life."

  The words hung in the air. "His life? You mean, Russell is supposed to kill Colt? Kill his own son?" The idea not only horrified me, it made me sick.

  "He has to," Melbourne said.

  "Why?"

  "Vlaski's plan has evolved over time. He's not just planning to poison the water, he wants to create an army of followers. He needs a lot of blood for something like that, but not just any blood. Sacrificial blood."