Harley Merlin and the Secret Coven

by Bella Forrest

  “That’s correct,” Wade said.

  “Why were you at the casino that night?” I asked.

  “I saw the gargoyle outside, first. I was driving by, on my way back from another mission, when I saw the creature slither inside.”

  “And then it went back out and attacked the guy,” I continued.

  He frowned slightly. “Yeah. What are you trying to say, Harley?”

  “I’m not sure. But, if the gargoyles are somehow following me, what are the odds that the one double escapee was deliberately after me from the very first night?” I asked. “What if it got out of the Bestiary once, came after me, then got out again, came after me again, and trashed my place and my car in the process, along with its buddies? Then more of its minions followed today… Does that make sense? By the way, Tobe calls that gargoyle Murray. Says it’s a ‘he,’” I added.

  He thought about it for a while, as did the rest of the team, before Santana shook her head. “If Murray was after you since last week, why didn’t he attack you directly? Why did he go after some random dude, then?”

  “Also, we don’t yet know if the gargoyles from today had anything to do with Murray,” Wade replied. “Let’s check with Tobe before we jump to any conclusions.”

  “Well, one thing’s for sure. They all seem to want a bite out of me,” I concluded, then breathed out a tremendous weight from my lungs. I was already tired, worn out by how quickly my life had turned upside down.

  “Ah, crap.” Santana’s dismay broke my train of thought.

  We all followed her gaze to the end of the alley, where a group of magicals emerged from the crowd. Garrett, Finch, and the rest of the investigation team. I couldn’t help but scoff. Their snobbish arrogance was the last thing I needed.

  “Bunch of stalkers,” I muttered. “Maybe if we ignore them, they’ll go away.”

  “Slim chance,” Tatyana replied. “They’re like wasps. The more you swat them away, the more vicious they get.”

  I braced myself for what I knew would be a tense exchange. Even from that distance, I could see the look on Finch’s face. He was dying for seconds, and we were in a public place. “Whatever you do, Harley, don’t let them get to you,” Astrid said, squeezing my arm gently. I gave her a weak smile and a nod in return.

  “What’s up, losers?” Garrett said as soon as they reached Moll Dyer’s terrace, then winked at me. “Except you, beautiful. I’ll have a chat with Alton, see if we can bump you up to the investigative team.”

  “Who says I want to be clumped together with your rejects?” I smirked. “I tolerate you enough to let you buy me a drink, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”

  One point to Harley. I couldn’t feel Garrett or Finch, but the rest of his team was already fuming.

  “Is there something you want, or are you just trying to stir something up again?” Wade replied, giving Garrett a tired roll of his green eyes.

  “We’re just out for some drinks, Chief Loser. We already handed our report to Alton. It seems to me that the Rag Team’s behind already,” Garrett said, his lips stretching into a grin. Once again, I got distracted by those dimples. Garrett was the hot guy you loved to hate—like the sexy villain in a spy movie.

  “I hope you didn’t let Poe write the report,” Wade shot back, going straight for the kill. I felt a grin slit my face as I studied the sour faces of the investigative team—Poe’s, in particular. He was ready to boil over.

  Garrett didn’t seem too offended, just confused. “What are you implying?”

  “I’m not implying anything. Just stating the fact. We spent the first part of the morning cleaning up after Poe’s cleanup team. His incompetence left a ton of loose ends behind, and judging by the report he handed to Alton, he lied through his teeth about how good a job he did. Which really doesn’t look good on your team,” Wade replied.

  I was impressed to see him in attack mode. Once he had something on someone, Wade didn’t let go until his prey was utterly, irrevocably terminated.

  “That’s downright slanderous!” Poe blurted, though my cheeks burned for him. Shame and guilt weighed heavy on the guy. It was my turn to consolidate Wade’s hits.

  “Is that why you reek of guilt and embarrassment?” I chimed in, wiggling my eyebrows at him. “We all read your fairytale of a report. We had to flash people you said you’d already flashed, and Astrid here had to go into the city’s CCTV mainframe and adjust the footage, because there was plenty there for a non-magical to consider suspicious, to say the least. Not to mention weird.”

  “Butt out, Mediocre!” Poe growled, taking a couple of steps forward.

  “Pot, kettle, anyone?” I chuckled, leaning back into my chair and linking my hands behind my head, to show him exactly how little he intimidated me.

  “You’ve got quite a lip on you today, Smith,” Finch said, his glare burning through me. “Someone should really teach you about your place in this coven, before you get yourself or, worse, someone else killed.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  I shot to my feet, finding it hard to control my murderous instincts. Finch did have a way of bringing the worst out in me. Wade caught my wrist, his grip tightening to the point where it was beginning to make my body temperature spike. “Harley.”

  “It’s not a threat. It’s a fact. It’s bad enough you’ve got the loudmouth Santeria witch, Tatyana the snow queen, Raffe the freak, the dumb jock, and Crowley, the king of stooges, here already,” Finch replied, nodding at each member of my team, including Astrid. “Not to mention the suicidal human. The last thing this group needs is an unhinged late bloomer who can’t keep her mouth shut or her abilities under control. I’m just saying, someone needs to teach you some discipline.”

  “Or I could just show you the true meaning of ‘unhinged.’ Clearly, you haven’t had enough since yesterday, and you’d like me to break some of your bones,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  “Okay, break it up, you two.” Garrett intervened, placing his arm across Finch’s chest and pulling him back. “Finch, you’re ruining my vibe here, man.”

  “Then stop offering her a position on this team!” Finch hissed. “Don’t try to shove her down our throats just because you want to get in her pants!”

  “I doubt he’ll get anywhere near her pants,” Wade said, crossing his arms over his chest. I then remembered why it was important I stayed on Garrett’s good side, and gave him a brief smile.

  “No need to offer me a spot on the team. I wouldn’t be caught dead working with the imbeciles you’ve surrounded yourself with,” I replied. “Let’s not mix business with pleasure.”

  I felt Wade seethe at that. I had an urge to trash the entire terrace and break it apart—and that wasn’t me, that was all him. Pushing it aside, I waved Finch and the others away with a flick of my wrist, then resumed my seat. “Now, run along, little pups,” I added. “Don’t spoil my afternoon.”

  “I’ll come get you later, then! How does Little Italy sound for tonight?” Garrett smiled, dimples in full effect.

  “Nah, I’m into swankier stuff,” I replied. “There’s a secret little hip spot in Northblock Lofts I’d like better.”

  “Noble Experiment?”

  “That’s the place.”

  “Perfect. I’ll come pick you up at nine, then,” Garrett said, then sent me another wink and motioned for the rest of his team to follow him to another venue, farther down the alley. “Come on, there’s better food at the Black Crow.”

  We all watched them leave, but Wade’s fury wasn’t ready to subside. If anything, it was getting stronger, throbbing through my temples. I gave him a brief sideways glance. “Tone it down, I’m not marrying the guy. Remember? Keep your friends close, yadda-yadda-yadda?”

  The Rag Team shifted their focus back to me, eyes wide and sparkling with curiosity. I let out a frustrated sigh. “Intel, guys! Intel! This may not be a competition, given how different our activity scopes are, but I’ll be damned if I let the investigation
team screw us over in any way. If anything, I’m now even more determined to shove that humble pie down their throats,” I explained, prompting Santana and the others to put on their most evil grins.

  Funny enough, Astrid failed miserably at looking “evil.” Dylan wasn’t too good at it either, but Santana, Tatyana, and Raffe gave me the chills. I wouldn’t have wanted to be on their bad sides. Wade, on the other hand, was still angry and awfully quiet, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he stabbed the wedges of lime in his glass with a straw.

  I decided it was time to change the subject, just to give Wade some space to process what had just happened. His feud with Garrett seemed petty when compared to my objective of gathering intel from Mr. Dimples. At least I didn’t have to fake that I was attracted to the guy—my hormones be damned.

  “I’ve been thinking,” I said, “and it’s something I’ve briefly discussed with Tobe. I thought I should run it by you guys, too. What if this whole Bestiary issue is an inside job?” The dropped jaws I received in response were a sign for me to elaborate a little. In all fairness, with everything I’d seen today on the church roof, I had every right to question the coven’s integrity. “Murray got out once, even though the Bestiary is secured. They added more magicals to guard it, they swept the place and found no trace of foul play, then Murray got out again. Something tells me that at least one of the church gargoyles we’ve got in the back of the Jeep is also from the Bestiary. So, my question is, what if the Bestiary’s being sabotaged?”

  “What would be the purpose? Why would anyone want to drown the ship while they’re still on it?” Wade replied with a frown, and then it hit me. Of course.

  “I don’t know about the purpose, but you make a fair point there,” I said. “If anyone would be trying to sabotage the Bestiary while it’s still with the San Diego Coven, it would be someone who’s not part of the coven or is looking to leave the coven. I’m using my logic here, guys, help me out.”

  “I see what you’re trying to get at, but still, what’s the endgame?” Santana asked, fiddling with a paper napkin.

  “Well, think of it as something to mull over,” I replied with a shrug. “Off the top of my head, my first guess would be that someone’s really pissed off with the fact that the San Diego Coven didn’t refuse the nomination in the first place and chose to go ahead with the Bestiary’s management. Or maybe someone has a grudge against Alton?”

  “We might as well widen the suspect net, then,” Wade said. “It could be Alton, or even Tobe. The preceptors, the instructors… Adley… any magical in the coven. The Rag Team. Then there’s Garrett, Finch, Poe, or the rest of that joke of an investigative team.”

  A couple of minutes went by in absolute silence, as they all processed the information. I could tell I’d rattled them a little—which was good. I certainly wasn’t the only one on the team actively suspecting an inside job, but I was the first one to say it out loud. We’d all thought about it from the very beginning, but they didn’t strike me as the type of people who would be comfortable suspecting each other of sabotaging the Bestiary. They seemed to be part of a tightly knit community inside the coven.

  “Well, enough with the conspiracy theories for today,” Wade finally said, apparently not yet ready to officially accept the possibility. “Let’s get back to the coven. I’ve got a report to file.”

  He was thinking about the idea of an inside job, and, given the unsettled feeling in my gut, I knew he was taking it seriously. There was no way that these gargoyle escapes were just accidents or unfortunate coincidences. Once, maybe. Twice? Less likely. Three times?

  Nope, something stinks for sure.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Let’s check the reliquary first.” Santana beamed at me as we left the terrace.

  “It’s too soon to resort to that,” Wade said. “And way too expensive.”

  “It’s cool, I just want to see what stuff they’re selling in there,” I replied with a shrug, then followed Santana inside Cabot’s Esprit Reliquary.

  The outside of the store looked like a contemporary steampunk dream, with a plethora of trinkets displayed in the dimly lit windows, and brass gears decorating the steel frames. A sterling silver replica of the solar system floated in the middle of the store—no wires, no hidden mechanism. They were just… hovering.

  “Magnetism?” I asked, frowning at it. The planets orbited a large sun, which had been fitted with an internal light, glowing warm white through thousands of tiny holes.

  “Nope,” Wade replied, without bothering to explain.

  “Magic,” Santana said, winking.

  We scattered throughout the reliquary. I let my gaze wander over several glass displays. Jewels of all shapes and sizes twinkled at me, loaded with mother-of-pearl inlays and precious stones. There were also looking glasses, pocket watches, walking sticks, pens, cufflinks, a dazzling array of sterling silver bracelets and rings, and various other objects. They’d all belonged to a magical at some point.

  “Looking for an Esprit?” A familiar voice made me turn around.

  I stilled, suddenly feeling tiny and insignificant in front of Imogene Whitehall of the California Mage Council. She was even more beautiful up close. Her eyes reminded me of a midsummer sky at noon, a pure blue that filled me with the urge to just… smile. Her pale blonde hair was caught up in a loose bun that covered the back of her slender neck. Her simple, white maxi dress flowed carelessly over her body, and dozens of slim, silver bracelets jingled on her thin wrists. I couldn’t read her as an Empath, but everything about her gave me a peculiar, overall good feeling, as if she was kindness poured into the shape of a woman.

  She was slightly taller than me, so I had to tilt my head back a little in order to look her in the eyes. “Ms. Whitehall,” I managed. “Um, yes. Sort of. Not really. Honestly, I’m not sure. I guess I’m browsing?”

  She laughed lightly.

  “Surprised to run into you here,” I added, wondering what she was doing in a shop like this.

  “Oh, I have a friend who collects these antique objects. I buy her one every year on her birthday.” Imogene smiled. “It’s what all this stuff is, anyway. One in a thousand magicals might find an Esprit in here. For everyone else it’s just expensive junk. And I just picked up a gorgeous silver-plated pocket watch for my friend.”

  My gaze dropped to the small gift bag in her hand. “So, you think it would be a waste of time for me to look for an Esprit here, huh?”

  Imogene lifted her hand to show me a large pearl ring, elegantly connected to a silver bracelet, on which more pearls had been mounted in a delicate pattern. It was beautiful and quite unique, especially since the chain connecting it was made of tiny pearls. It glistened pale yellow in the dim store lights. “Do you know how long it took me to find this piece?” she asked.

  “I have no idea. It looks custom made,” I replied.

  “It is. You have a good eye,” Imogene said, making sure her appreciative tone came through.

  I gave her a modest shrug in return. “I studied a bit of design in high school. But wait, if you had it custom made, you didn’t find it. You had it made.”

  “Your logic is sound.” Imogene chuckled softly. “But I didn’t have it made. I spent five years without an Esprit, from the moment my powers came to light. Fortunately for me, I had magical parents to guide me, so I passed those five years looking, touching every object I came across, in the hope that I would feel that instant connection.”

  “How… What does it feel like?” I asked, unable to hide my sorrow. I’d only just found out about an Esprit, and yet, I was already moping over it.

  “Trust me, you’ll know it the moment you touch it. The feeling itself… Well, it’s indescribable. But it’s okay, Harley. From what Alton has told me, you’ve only recently learned about the Esprit. If you’re just getting started with the search, I’m sure you’ll find it much sooner than I did. When you’re an adult magical, you’re much more attuned to the Chaos. As a child, ever
ything is… softer.” She smiled.

  “So, you found yours.”

  “Yes. But not in a reliquary, mind you. I found it in the human world, in a flea market outside New Orleans,” she replied. “The seller was human. He didn’t even know what he had. It turns out, this belonged to Agatha Southeil, one of the most renowned witches of her time!”

  I blinked several times, trying to process the name. “Why does that sound familiar?”

  “Her daughter was legendary! She predicted the Great Fire of London, among other things,” Imogene replied. “Well, technically speaking, the spirits advised her, and she just passed the message on. She wasn’t really a clairvoyant, but she did have the touch of the Necromancer, so she was able to speak to the spirits of those stuck between the planes of existence. They often see everything with greater clarity than the living. They can tell if a candle is at risk of causing a fire, or if a driver will hit the brakes in time before a boy crosses the road, and so on. Agatha, like her daughter, just communicated their conclusions.”

  “Oh, wow,” I mumbled.

  “I know, right?” Imogene giggled. “Who would’ve thought? Point is, don’t struggle too much to search for it, and don’t stress over it, either. No magical is ever without an Esprit. We all find it sooner or later. To be honest, the reliquary should be your last resort. You’re still so young, with plenty of time to find your Esprit.”

  “Until yesterday, I didn’t even know I needed one,” I replied. “It’s not like my life is over without it. But, you know, now I am looking forward to finding it.”

  “Are you fearful about not having control over your abilities?” she asked with a gentle frown, then placed her hands on my shoulders. I could almost hear her holding her breath for a few seconds, before she exhaled sharply and gave me another warm smile.