by Elle Adams
“The last suspect?” I asked. This Simeon Clarke was the guy who would have actually got the job if Mr Bayer hadn’t met an untimely demise. Hardly a likely candidate for murder, but his name was on the list all the same. Apparently he was less qualified than the wizard but considerably more so than any of the other candidates. I wasn’t in the mood for another interrogation, but after the break-in, I’d take any distraction I could get.
The office door opened and a smartly dressed young man walked in. Wizard, my sixth sense told me.
I know he’s a wizard, I told the voice in my head.
He smiled. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“No. You’re Mr Simeon Clarke, correct?” Like in his profile picture, he wore a smart suit and was polished and sophisticated-looking, in total contrast to the other two. Not suspicious at all, but my nerves were on edge. Still, we’d arranged the interview before the break-in. He’d have no reason to know… unless he was responsible.
Blythe snapped a glance onto me. “Nobody said we were inviting any more candidates in.”
“That would be because you aren’t the boss,” I said pleasantly. “Simeon, would you come this way?”
Blythe’s eyes narrowed and she rose to her feet. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“If it’s not a good time, I can come back later,” Simeon said. “But if you want to go back to work, we won’t be long.”
To my immense surprise, Blythe took her seat again in an almost docile way. So manners did work on her. That, or she didn’t want to smear the company’s name by starting an argument with a client.
“You seem a little distracted,” he commented, as we took our seats in the interview room.
“Yes, we actually had a break-in earlier.”
I waited to see any signs of guilt. None came, though his smile slipped. “That’s awful. I’m sorry. I can come in at a later date if that’s more convenient for you?”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “I misplaced my question list. I’m also new in town, so I’m still adjusting. It’s my understanding that you’re looking for a job in spellcraft.”
“Actually, I just secured a position in magical craftwork.”
“You—excuse me?”
He gave me a smile. “I actually got the job offer a few hours before I came here. But the offer was pending after my interview last Monday.”
“Really? You applied for both jobs at once?”
“I applied to several positions. Mr Bayer was well-liked and paid well, it was obviously going to be a highly competitive position. I didn’t expect to be chosen. I’d have backed out, but well. The murder. It’s horribly tragic.”
“So who would he have given the position to…?”
“Mr Bloom outranked me, but between you and me, he wasn’t the most reliable of candidates. I don’t think he’d have lasted long in the job.”
He was probably right there.
“Did you speak to the other candidates?” I asked.
“No. Two of them got into a childish argument outside the interviewing room after we left,” he said. “I don’t want to impose on you, but I heard a rumour you’ve taken a particular interest in Mr Bayer’s death, and the possibility one of your candidates was involved. Perhaps that’s true, but there’s another client of this company who might have an obvious reason to take out the competition. I’m not trying to point fingers, but both of them worked on similar spellcrafting methods. I was going to apply there next, actually.”
“Oh.” None of his words rang as untruthful to me. He’d answered all my questions. Almost too quickly, though maybe I was just still jumpy after the break-in. Whatever the reason, before I could question my better judgement, I found myself asking, “Did you murder Mr Bayer?”
His eyes widened. “No. Why would I?”
No lies. Great one there, Blair. “Sorry. Like I said—it’s been a long day. Good luck with the new job.”
He smiled at me, with no warmth this time, and walked out.
I remained in the interview seat and clapped slowly to myself. “Stellar job, Blair.”
“Who are you talking to?” said Bethan, peering in.
I pressed a hand to my forehead. “Well, we can forget inviting him back. Where are the others?” She appeared to be the only person in the office.
“We’ve got the rest of the day off again,” she said. “Three shifter healers couldn’t turn Callie back into human form, and she accidentally knocked one of them out. Not her fault—she never was particularly good at coordinating herself while in shifted form. It’s why she doesn’t work for the pack.”
“Oh no.” I frowned. “What about the werewolves? Might they be able to ask her who attacked her and then tell us?”
“She’s—well, she’s had to be sedated, to be honest. The healers were really freaked out.”
“Oh. Sorry. I guess we have to wait to find out who the intruder was.”
Bethan nodded. “She probably won’t shift back until she wakes up. The boss wants to check in on her at the hospital, so she’s letting us go home instead.”
What a week. Three disgruntled clients would probably never work with our company again, and I was even further from the killer than before. Which is where any sane person would want to be, but I was more annoyed than was probably wise. I’d been sure Simeon had been hiding something behind his polished appearance.
With no word from Callie and an afternoon free, I decided to go to the shops again. The break-in all but proved that the culprit was one of the interviewees, but maybe what Simeon had said held some merit. And to be honest, I was kind of curious as to what a spellmaker actually did.
Steve the gargoyle police chief, however, apparently had the same idea. I spotted his winged form ambling past and swiftly ducked into the nearest shop—a bookshop.
Towering shelves housed countless titles—all unfamiliar to me. I jumped when a book lifted itself off the shelf into the hands of a little green man beside me. Two witches stood giggling in the ‘hexes and charms’ section, while a moody-looking, pale man lurked in the history section. I stared for a moment, overwhelmed.
“What are you looking for?” asked the small green winged man at my side. “Can I help you?”
“Are you a fairy?” I asked stupidly.
“Leprechaun,” he said. “You must be the new girl.”
“That’s me. I’m looking for something on… history. Town history.”
“Oh, just ask around,” he said cheerfully. “Otherwise, try asking Vincent over there.” He indicated the moody-looking man in the corner. “He’s lived here since the start.”
The guy didn’t look that old, from a distance. Vampire, then. “Sure, I’ll ask him. Er, do you have any books on… spellmaking?”
“Not specialist ones. They’re usually unique to the spellmaker. Pity Mr Bayer is gone—he used to make the best ones.” He dropped his voice. “You’re new here, so you probably don’t know, but he died recently.”
“I do. I mean, he was a client of ours.”
“That’s very sad.”
It sounded like the guy was reasonably well-liked. “Are there other spellmakers in the town?”
“Yes, there’s Ruther.”
Simeon had mentioned the other spellmaker. He’d insinuated that this Ruther might have felt Mr Bayer posed a threat to his business…
“Thanks,” I said to him. “I think I’d like to have a look around the reference section.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “Tap the higher shelves to get the list.”
Tap the higher shelves? He’d disappeared before I had the chance to ask what he meant. I scanned the shelves. Their labels glowed around the edges and were slightly raised, like buttons. I stood on tip-toe and pressed my finger against the nearest. A piece of parchment unfurled to floor level, listing titles. When I tapped one of them, it dropped from the shelf above me and landed in my hand. Advanced Levitation Spells. Maybe not.
How to return it to its former
position? I pondered, then tapped the book’s name on the list again and it rose up, returning to the shelf. A smile formed as I imagined having my own library. I doubted this one held the same titles you found in the normal world, but magic kept on surprising me.
Invigorated, I strode down the row of shelves, conjuring up books every time one of them caught my eye. There were beginners’ guides to magic, but Alissa had already offered to loan me her own, and I was lacking in the spare cash department. The ‘monsters’ section was entirely empty of people, but thankfully none of the books looked particularly monstrous, even the encyclopaedia. I wondered if Nathan regularly consulted that. Wait, he wasn’t a paranormal hunter anymore…
My hand paused on a title: Guide to Fairies and Other Species.
The word species made my heart sink in an unpleasant manner. Against my better judgement, I lifted the title from the shelf, and flipped open the book. On the first page was a list of descriptors for identifying a fairy. Pointed ears. Green skin. I reached up to tweak my own ear. Not pointed. Definitely not green. No wings. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Rita had said I was glamoured. But I felt human.
I opened the book again, skimming through to look up the definition of the word glamour. According to the book, glamour was a type of fairy-specific disguise magic, very powerful, and could only be undone by another fairy. I skimmed through the pages, hoping that I’d find out there was a way to undo it, but found nothing.
Disappointment churned inside me. Even the books didn’t have answers. I could ask the vampire about town history, but what I really wanted was my history. Who had put the glamour on me? Why would they want me not to know who I was? I’d long since accepted I’d probably never know my real parents, but the aching curiosity refused to be satiated, and each tantalising clue only made the ache worse.
Movement flickered in the corner of my eye and I lowered the book.
“Found something interesting?” asked a deep voice from behind me.
I dropped the book on my toe. “No. Yes. Ow.” I reached to pick it up, my face flaming, and shoved the book onto the shelf, upside-down.
The look on Nathan’s face bordered on amused. “You’re supposed to pay for the books, not read them, but I won’t tell on you,” he said. “What are you reading?”
“Got curious,” I said. “There are all sorts of paranormals here and I’ve been kind of overwhelmed by it all, so I decided to have a look at all the different types. I was going to check out werewolves next.”
“Because of Callie? I heard she was attacked.”
“We’re not sure if she was or not.” I edged closer to the shelf, glad that at least he hadn’t caught me in the monster hunting section. Unfortunately, his gaze went right to the book that I’d hastily returned to the wrong spot.
“Fairies? Is that what you’re interested in?”
“Nope,” I said quickly. Lie.
I know it’s a bloody lie, I told the voice in my head.
Without warning, my vision swam, and suddenly the floor was a lot closer than it’d been before. The only reason I hadn’t executed a full-on face-plant was because Nathan grabbed me by the arm. What was that?
“Take it easy.” He looked a little alarmed. “Do you need to sit down?”
“No, I just thought I’d like to see the tiles up close.”
Another wave of dizziness hit, and I couldn’t even appreciate that he hadn’t let go of my arm yet. I chewed on the inside of my mouth to keep from spitting out another lie.
“Come with me.” He pulled me upright, still gripping my arm as though afraid I’d keel over, and steered me past the shelves towards a small café area at the back.
The world righted itself when I sat opposite him in a wooden seat. Only then did I notice that every group of people in the café had turned in our direction at once then quickly looked away as though to hide their interest. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why: Everyone else in the café seemed to be a couple.
“You might have mentioned this was the town’s most popular hangout for coffee dates,” I said out of the corner of my mouth as they returned to their own conversations.
“It also has the best firework cappuccino in town.”
“That sounds like a fire hazard,” I remarked, scanning the menu. The last thing I needed was more caffeine with the residual adrenaline jangling inside me. “When it says magical side effects, will I turn into a wolf or start levitating?”
“Not quite, but I think they’re a bit much for newcomers. Tea?”
“I don’t like tea. Or jam. Yes, I know I’m a traitor to all things English and should probably head to the nearest airport.”
He laughed at that comment. “I’m not keen on it either.”
I scanned the menu. I could try a different type of magical smoothie every day of the week and not get through them all. “Calming smoothie, large.”
“Better to go with medium,” he said. “A large one will put you to sleep.”
I think I’ve had enough experience with the floor tiles. “Medium it is. Do we have to go over there to order?” I indicated the counter, where nobody seemed to be queuing.
“No, just tap what you’d like on the menu. I’ll pay.” He scattered some coins onto the table.
“Oh—thank you.” The menu lit up in the same way the lists of titles did on the bookshelves. I touched my fingertip to the right smoothie, and an instant later, it appeared in front of me, while the coins beside Nathan vanished. Witchcraft at its finest. “So you’re not working today? What’re you here for?”
His own drink appeared before him. It looked like coffee, from where I sat. “Would you believe I don’t spend all my time waiting for newcomers beside the lake?”
“Given how much of a novelty I am, I’m taking a wild guess it’s never happened before.”
“No, I can’t say it has. Certainly not to me. How are you liking the job, by the way?”
“Aside from the fact that my co-worker is stuck as a wolf, it’s been great.”
“And have you met Madame Grey yet? I heard you’re an honorary coven member,” he said.
“That’d be because I’m living with her granddaughter. The witches seem to think they can drag some magic out of me by sheer force. You know, yesterday they made me stand outside in the rain in case I turned out to be a weatherworker?”
“They tend to attract those with stormy temperaments.”
“Very funny.” So he did have a sense of humour. “I think I’d prefer invisibility, or…” Don’t say flying.
Our drinks floated over to the table. I picked up the smoothie and took a tentative sip. Despite its odd purple colour, it tasted of apple juice.
“Do you like it here so far?” Nathan asked.
“Yes. Absolutely. I really feel I’ve found my… tribe.” Let’s omit the fact that said tribe were a whole species away from me. And I still hadn’t told him I was a fairy. I certainly wouldn’t be doing so with an audience, even if I didn’t suspect that I matched the exact type of misbehaving paranormal he used to help apprehend.
“I’m glad. You had a rocky start, and I can’t help feeling responsible for that,” he said. “I apologise for how I spoke to you when we met.”
“You let me cry on the floor.”
“I don’t own the floor.”
“Does Madame Grey own that, too?”
“I assume that was a joke, but… Yes. Yes, she does.”
Wow. Lucky she seemed to like me. And so did he, unless he just felt sorry for the newbie. “You didn’t have to listen to my sob story. I appreciate it.” I sipped my drink. “What’s your supernatural power, anyway?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Me?”
“I assume it doesn’t involve stabbing things with pointy objects, otherwise humans can do it.”
His smile vanished. Oops. Great one, Blair.
“Sorry. Bad choice of topic?”
“There are several ‘monsters’ in this café, including a vampire who’s
likely listening to every word we’re saying.”
“Ah. Sorry.”
“No need to apologise. Which other magic types have you been tested for?”
“Setting things on fire, levitating, disappearing… I’m pretty sure I’d have managed that by now.” Like right now, for instance. “I don’t think I’d do well with a hazardous power.”
“All magic has the potential to be hazardous,” he said.
No kidding. Look what’d happened to Mr Bayer.
I drank the last of my smoothie, glancing over my shoulder to see if the vampire was still here. I had far too many questions about the business of being a paranormal hunter, and was starting to wish I’d had a closer look in that section after all. How often did paranormals go bad? Everyone said it was rare, but it must be common enough that independent hunters were a necessity. Hmm.
There was a sudden, ghastly howl. My blood went cold.
“What is that?” I asked.
It sounded like…
“A werewolf.”
I jumped to my feet and ran out of the cafe. Nobody else did. Maybe they were used to howling wolves, but that voice sounded awfully familiar. Callie.
Nathan caught up to me at the door. “I think your co-worker just woke up.”
“It sounds like she’s in pain!” I looked around frantically. “Where—?”
“The hospital.” He opened the door and pointed down the road at a larger brick building on the corner. “That’s where she’s likely to be.”
Of course—it’d slipped my mind that when they’d said healers, they’d meant Alissa and her colleagues at the hospital. The town was small enough that there was a single hospital for all the paranormals.
“My flatmate Alissa works there.” I began to walk in that direction. “I can find my way home from there.”
Some end to the date that definitely wasn’t a date. But if Callie was in trouble, I couldn’t help feeling partly responsible.
