by Molly Fitz
“That was the initial plan, yes, but we have to listen to what the land wants, too.”
“Which is me?” I squeaked.
“It most certainly seems that way.”
“But its magic is with Mrs. Haberdash’s murderer,” I pointed out without blinking, afraid to look away. I didn’t like where this was headed. It was even worse than the mind control Fluffikins and Parker had both exerted over me. I could avoid a single person, but what if the land itself decided it wanted to influence me? My only hope would be to move away from town—which, sure, I didn’t have roots down or anything, but it would still take time to make a run for it.
“For now. There are ways to change that, of course.”
“You don’t mean—”
“That you kill the killer and claim the magic for yourself?” she asked with a smirk.
I gulped hard and nodded. Did she honestly expect me to take a life as part of a stupid temp job? Magic was cool and all, but not cool enough to make me change the core of my beliefs. Murder was wrong. That should have been a given here.
Greta crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight from one side to the other. “Of course that’s what I mean.”
“I’m not killing anybody,” I argued fruitlessly. For all I knew, Greta or any of the others could force me to do it with their mind control magic.
“We’ll see,” my supposed mentor told me with a light laugh.
My stomach dropped to the floor right beside where Mrs. Haberdash’s body had lain sprawled less than twenty-four hours ago.
I liked the idea of magic, but in practice, it was proving to be way too much for me to handle. I wasn’t a witch, but I was even less of a murderer.
Whether or not the intended victim was guilty of a terrible crime, it definitely wasn’t my job to mete out justice.
But just how easily could I quit the Paranormal Temp Agency and resume my normal life as if nothing had ever happened?
I was beginning to feel this situation had escalated to do or die.
What would happen if I refused both those options?
14
Greta showed me around the house, which frankly appeared to be falling apart at the seams. She walked me through each room, describing the items in it and what purpose each held. It was boring with a capital B.
Seriously, how was any of this meant to contribute to my magical training? We were already working on a tight schedule here, and instead of teaching me spells or potions, my assigned mentor spent the last ten minutes describing how Mrs. Haberdash had bespelled her socks to make them three degrees warmer than room temperature. Not even the magic she’d used to accomplish the task, mind you—just the fact she’d done it at all.
How was any of this supposed to help me catch a killer? Every single time I tried to ask a more relevant question, Greta brushed me off by changing the topic. At this rate, I might learn to tailor my pants with magic by the time the day was through, but I’d never learn anything cooler like how to fly or… I don’t know, evade a death blow, maybe.
The only thing that managed to keep my attention at all was the bedroom closet. Greta drifted in and began flipping through the previous tenant’s wardrobe, explaining the type of Town Witch duties each selection could be worn for.
Ugh. Why did I need to know any of this?
My mind wandered yet again, turning Greta’s nasally voice into a buzzing drone as I glanced around the room in search of something more interesting to ponder over. That’s when the fantastic black hat sitting on the top shelf of that closet caught my eye.
Of course, I had no qualms about interrupting Greta, seeing as I hadn’t really been listening anyway. “What’s that?” I asked, motioning toward the black velvet hat that had been embellished with a purple satin sash.
Greta’s eyes lit when they landed upon it. “Oh, good find. This is the most important item in a Town Witch’s entire wardrobe and possibly the single most important item she owns. I can’t believe the murderer would have left this here.”
Instead of waiting for her to explain further, I grabbed the hat off the shelf and unfurled the top, finding it ended in a perfect delightful point.
A burst of energy shot straight into my chest, lighting me from the inside. The hat was speaking to me in the only way it could—through its magic. Without so much as a second thought, I plopped it right on top of my newly pinkened hair. And the exact moment that witch’s hat hit my head, a vivid picture filled my mind. I saw Mrs. Haberdash going about her business, checking the mail (proof she’d received my letters!), heading to the kitchen to make tea, and then…
She dropped the kettle to the floor with a crash that sent hot water flying everywhere. I couldn’t just see and hear it, I felt the burn, too. I glanced down but only saw my own feet beneath me.
“It’s time then?” Mrs. Haberdash asked with a gasp while my vision had been pulled away.
I closed my eyes to snap my attention back to the scene unfolding in my mind, but all I saw was the spilled water on the floor.
A heavy weight settled on my chest, turning breathing into a struggle. The sound of echoing footsteps approached, but I couldn’t see who was there with her—with me.
A rush of wind blew over me and an icy chill wrapped itself around me. The scene snapped out of focus and…
“What are you doing?” Greta cried, holding the hat clutched firmly in one manicured hand as she stared at me in horror.
“The hat,” I murmured, still trying to make sense of what had just happened. “I think it wanted to show me what happened to Mrs. Haberdash.”
“I told Fluffikins this was a bad idea,” she spat as she shoved the hat back into the closet. After she slammed the doors shut, she formed a C with her thumb and index finger and moved them in a swift pendulum motion.
“We have to find out what happened. Mrs. Haberdash deserves justice.” I ran toward the closet and pulled hard at it, but the doors wouldn’t budge.
“That’s not your job,” Greta snapped.
“But I’m the new Town Witch for—”
“You’re a temp!” she exploded, leaving me behind as she charged out of the room. “And I refuse to train someone with so little regard for…”
I chased her from the room, down the hall, and to the top of stairs. Greta now stood stock-still, not moving or speaking, hardly even breathing.
“What’s happening?” I asked in a desperate whisper. “Why aren’t you—?”
But then my legs locked in place, frozen. In fact, the only part of me I could still move was my eyes. I directed my gaze to the base of the stairs, and that’s when I saw her.
The same young woman I’d met the day before stood at the ground level with both arms raised.
“You again,” she said with a cold smile. “You should have stayed out of this while you had the chance.”
She was definitely right about that.
I wanted to look to Greta for guidance, but I could barely make her out in my peripheral vision. I hoped she had a plan, because I sure didn’t.
15
I twisted and wriggled, but still I couldn’t escape the young witch’s magical grip. I was straining hard enough to break out into a sweat, but my limbs didn’t so much as twitch from all that effort. She had me in a powerful hold, and I didn’t have the slightest hope of defending myself if this encounter turned violent.
“Melony Haberdash,” Greta growled between clenched teeth, remaining perfectly still as she stared the other woman down. “I should have guessed it would be you.”
Melony’s cruel stare softened, but her grip held tight. “Just so you know, I had nothing to do with my great aunt’s murder. Why would I kill her when I was next in line to inherit her position?”
She paused briefly, then her eyes snapped to me with a burning new intensity. “I found this one stalking around the property yesterday, and now she’s here again today. Doesn’t seem like such a coincidence. Does it?”
Great’s voice came out
choked. “No, you’ve got it wrong. She’s just the temp.”
“Ha! Seems to me like you’re playing right into her hand. First she steals the magic and then she gets free training from the board by playing innocent. That’s pretty brilliant, actually. Maybe I should be taking notes.”
Greta continued to struggle beside me. A flash of movement below her hip suggested she’d regained control of her fingers but still couldn’t move her full hand yet. “She’s a normie, I swear to you. At first I had my suspicions, too, but she honestly knows nothing. She just almost killed herself by replaying the murder.”
My heart practically stopped at this new revelation. I’d almost died? Just by putting on that witch’s hat? Yikes. That meant Greta had saved me from my foible. At first I’d thought she’d cut the encounter short because she didn’t want me to discover that she was the killer, but now it seemed like she’d chosen to protect me. Is that why she was wasting time rather than giving me any real training?
Whatever her reasons for keeping me naive, I sure could use some magical ability right now.
All I had were the instincts Fluffikins had highlighted last night, but Melony had set a trap that caught us off guard. Neither Greta nor I had a chance to react before falling under her spell.
That left the one thing I’d always had, even before I knew about magic. My words.
It was time to speak up for myself. If I could convince Melony I wasn’t a threat, maybe she would let me go.
“I didn’t kill Mrs. Haberdash,” I shouted at her through tears. “I’ve never killed anyone. I shouldn’t even be here. This is clearly business that I have no part of. I never asked to be made a witch. I just write books!”
Melony studied me, sizing me up the same way Greta had earlier. She must have found what she was looking for because a few seconds later the magical vise snapped open and I fell to the ground.
“Where’s my aunt’s hat?” the young witch asked me as I picked myself up.
I turned back toward the room we’d just exited. “I’ll go get it for—”
“No!” Greta screamed, but it was too late. Melony was already charging up the stairs and into her late aunt’s bedroom.
“What have you done?” Greta muttered, still bound tightly by Melony’s magic.
“But she said she didn’t…” My words fell away. Why had I believed her when she clearly had the most to gain from Mrs. Haberdash’s untimely demise?
“She’s not the killer,” Greta admitted as she turned her head very slightly to look toward me. Little by little, the spell was thawing, but would Greta be free in enough time to stop Melony from getting away?
She grunted from the strain of trying to break the spell, then added, “I could tell she was speaking the truth with us just now, but—”
“Yes!” Melony cried from the other room, causing Greta to stop mid-sentence. “I’ve got you now.”
“Hey! What did you see? Do you know who did it?” I asked as she rushed back down the stairs, cradling the old hat against her chest, without so much as a second glance toward me and Greta. Maybe I should have continued to play dumb, but if she’d spoken truthfully before, perhaps she would do so now. My gift of verbal persuasion was the only option I had, since I didn’t know how to summon my new magic on command.
But Melony ignored us both, flinging open the front door and charging outside. As soon as the door slammed behind her, the hold on Greta released completely.
She fell to the floor, weak and heaving.
“What happened?” I asked as I helped her back onto her feet.
Greta’s eyes appeared vacant as she explained, “She used the hat to call up the murder scene just like you did, but as a more experienced witch she knows how to manipulate the memories so they don’t pose a threat to her.”
“She saw the murderer,” I said with a sharp inhale.
Greta nodded meekly. “Yes. And she’s on her way to kill him to assume the town magic.”
I’d done this. I’d found the hat and then I’d guided Melony straight to it. I still didn’t know who’d killed Mrs. Haberdash, but it would be my fault when that person met their untimely end. And it would be my fault when the crazed teenager was filled with some of the strongest magic in the region, which I doubted she’d use to make things better for its residents.
Gulp.
16
Two choices. That’s what I had at this point.
I could buckle down to help Greta, Parker, Fluffikins, and crew find—and save—the murderer. But once we saved him or her, did they want me to do the killing for them?
I was still so confused about what was expected of me here. Magic was weird, and yet the rules that governed it were weirder still. It also seemed like they shifted according to who I was talking to at the moment. If Greta wanted me to stay on permanently, what did Fluffikins think? Or Parker? Did they expect me to kill for them? If I remained steadfast in my refusal, would they force me to comply?
This brought me to option number two. I could get the heck out of here and pretend this whole thing had never happened.
“Okay, so good luck with everything!” I shouted to Greta before I sprinted down the stairs just as fast as my feet would carry me.
What? I hadn’t survived thirty-five years on this earth by having no sense of self-preservation. All the other players here had magic. Real magic!
Yeah, they’d given me a temporary dose, but I definitely didn’t know enough to protect myself. Besides, Melony was already on her way to off the killer and assume her aunt’s stolen magic. They didn’t need me as a temp anymore, and they definitely didn’t need me as a contract killer. Way too much could go wrong there, and I refused to jeopardize my entire life and future.
Now if I didn’t help them, which I wasn’t going to, my life would still be pretty up in the air. No matter what happened, I’d be living in the backyard of a murderer—Melony.
That would be bad. Hmmm.
I ran through my options a couple more times while racing back to the guest cottage I called home. Despite everything, at least my running shoes were finally living up to their name.
By the time I reached the front door, I’d made up my mind all over again. It was time to check the real estate listings online and move myself as far from this crazy place as I could. Honestly, the sooner the better. I’d just fire up my laptop and…
And nothing, at least not yet.
It seemed I had a guest.
“I heard trouble is brewing,” Mr. Fluffikins announced from his perch on the back of my sofa, one paw crossed daintily over the other.
I eyed him suspiciously. “Yeah, it just started like five minutes ago. How did you get here so fast? Did you teleport or something?”
He hung his head and laughed. “Of course not. I flew.”
“Oh, yes, because that makes more sense.”
The black cat remained seated, watching me closely.
I sighed, knowing if I didn’t say something soon, he’d start making all sorts of demands. I still didn’t want this stupid temp job, and I wasn’t exactly up to playing the kindly hostess, either.
“Why are you here?” I said with a scowl. “You don’t need me anymore.”
Fluffikins stood and stretched, arching his back high like a cat on Halloween or a seriously talented yogi, or both. “Actually, we need you more than ever. Come with me.”
“I’m sorry, this is all a little much for me. I’d really rather not die today. Or any day, really. But especially not today. Thanks.”
“Then it’s imperative you stay under my protection, and I can’t look after you if you’re running away. Now can I?”
Crud. He had a point.
I rolled my shoulders, but the nervous tension remained. “Why am I a part of this? Why do you need me at all?”
“You might want to be sitting for this,” Fluffikins said slowly, almost compassionately.
I sunk down onto the sofa, and Fluffikins came over to situate himself on my lap.
“Now pet me,” he ordered, locking me in his glowing golden gaze. I knew petting an animal was supposed to be good for your blood pressure, but I needed a lot more than that to calm me down.
So I refused. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Pet me!” he commanded in a way that brooked no argument.
He didn’t force me with his powers, but I still complied, finding it easier to get through whatever he wanted so I could carry on with my normal life—boring but happy, just what I needed.
The moment my fingers made contact with his silky black hair, a new vision flooded my brain. It was like what I’d experienced with the hat, but even more vivid, possibly because it was being projected by a living being instead of an inanimate object.
Fluffikins purred softly but otherwise didn’t interrupt as I explored his memories.
With a hitched breath, I yanked my hand back, cutting the vision short. I’d already seen more than enough. Much to my surprise, Fluffikins had revealed an answer I didn’t expect but also couldn’t contest after having witnessed it so clearly.
“You did it,” I choked out, sliding him off my lap and hopping back to my feet. “You ordered the hit on Mrs. Haberdash.”
But why was he telling me now? And why hadn’t he told me before? Was this some kind of Bond villain moment where he revealed the beauty of his plan before offing the victim?
And where did I actually fit into all of this?
Was it just dumb luck, or was something greater at play here?
I didn’t want to know, but I needed to find out.
Knowledge was power, and it might have been the only thing that could save me now.
17
I pointed a shaky finger at Fluffikins, who was still seated on the sofa in front of me. “You killed my landlady. She was your… your colleague, if not your friend. Why should I listen to anything you have to say? And why should I help you?”
