Witch in Progress

by Elle Adams

  “Miaow,” said the cat, from behind us, as though agreeing with her point.

  “Do they understand English?”

  “Familiars do. Hmm.”

  “I’m not a witch,” I said ineffectually. We’d reached the road to the house by that point. “Is there an animal shelter somewhere here?”

  “Yes, there is, but that cat is coming in whether you like it or not. Trust me, witch cats are not to be argued with.”

  “I think the same goes for all cats in general, but I’m not ready for a pet.” I walked into the hall behind her. “Anyway, what if the coven finds out?”

  “You won’t be punished for adopting a stray. But I do think you need to tell Madame Grey you’ve used magic.”

  Easier said than done. “How can I explain the levitation without mentioning the mudslide incident?”

  “Say you fell at the falls… oh. The lies.”

  “Exactly.” I groaned. “This is a pain. I wouldn’t say I lie all the time, but who doesn’t?”

  The cat raised a paw. “Miaow.”

  “Can you translate that?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t speak cat.”

  The cat stalked decisively ahead of us into the flat the instant Alissa opened the door, and sat on the sofa.

  “I think I just got adopted,” I said. “You have spare cat food, right? I’d have bought some if I knew I was going to become a pet owner.”

  “Sure.”

  Roald padded up to the sofa, sniffing at the newcomer. The cat swatted at Roald, who retaliated with a yowl and swipe.

  “Feline wars,” I said. “Told you this was a bad idea.”

  “I think it’s a great idea, actually. He needs to learn boundaries.”

  “Now I need to pick up a Magical Cats for Dummies guide, too.” I walked to the kitchen and opened the cupboard where Alissa kept the cat food. The little cat appeared at my side so fast, it might well have teleported. “There,” I said, tipping cat food into a bowl. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not like I planned to get a familiar. You’re going to have to stop fighting with Roald if you want to stay.”

  I put the bowl down and moved the bags containing my new boots and the bubble wrap to my bedroom. “I know how I can give the boots for a spin. I need to test the boundaries of this weird lying curse thing, but somewhere it won’t be a hazard if I fall over.”

  “Good idea,” Alissa said. “You might want to wait until you’ve gained some control over those boots, though.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Okay, I’ll do it this way.” After checking the cat wasn’t behind me, I stood in front of the sofa and said, “I’m a witch.”

  No reaction.

  “I’m a werewolf.”

  I held my breath, but I didn’t fall back like I had in the shop. The there was a loud popping noise from the bedroom. The cat had disappeared, leaving his bowl empty.

  “Crap.” I ran into the bedroom. The cat sat surrounded by dismembered bubble wrap, wearing a piteous expression.

  “I already fed you.”

  “Miaow.”

  “That was to get my attention? Alissa, isn’t that bubble wrap meant to repair itself?”

  Muffled laughter came from behind me. “It is. But not from that state.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the small feline. “You’re not a stray, are you?”

  “Miaow.”

  I picked up the sheet of shredded bubble wrap. “Miaow yourself. Go and kill some mice or something. There have to be some around here, right?”

  I deposited the wrecked bubble wrap in the bin. The cat followed, padding confidently after me.

  “We’re testing my fairy powers,” I told him. “See, I’m a fairy. Not a witch. Alissa already has a familiar. And if you’re not careful, I’ll end up falling on you.”

  “Miaow.”

  “Are you sure you’re trying the right lies?” said Alissa.

  “Who even knows.” I rolled my eyes. “My whole life has been one little white lie after another. Lucky this didn’t happen in my last customer service job. I’d have passed out behind the counter every time someone demanded to speak to the manager… actually, that wouldn’t have been so bad.”

  “Dealing with normals sounds awful.” She sat in the armchair, Roald curled on her lap.

  “Isn’t it like that here? Don’t you get angry wizard patients being obnoxious?”

  “Yes, but we have earplug charms.” She grinned.

  “You’re making me more and more keen to stay here forever. Even if they don’t keep me at Eldritch & Co. I never want to have to listen to someone tell me to make them a cappuccino and then scream at me for not making a latte instead again.”

  “One spell would take care of that problem.”

  So it would. “Can’t I use magic at all outside of the town?”

  “No,” she said. “I mean, theoretically you can, now your powers have actually awakened, but there are rules. As I’m sure Madame Grey has drilled into you by now.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” I rearranged the cushions on the sofa to form a soft landing. “Maybe the effect depends on the strength of the lie. If I tell a huge one, then… let’s hope I fall in the right direction.”

  “I’ll catch you.”

  “I’m a tadpole.”

  Nothing happened.

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “I’m seventy-five years old and I like hiking and bright pink socks.”

  Nothing.

  Alissa pursed her lips. “What exactly kicked this off in the first place?”

  My face flamed. “Nathan asked if I was interested in fairies because he caught me red-handed holding a book. I panicked and said I wasn’t. Definitely not the biggest lie I’ve ever told. I once pretended to be fluent in Spanish in a job interview. That was an adventure.”

  She snorted. “Maybe it’s situational. I don’t know enough about fairy magic to be sure. Or maybe because you found him attractive and panicked.”

  “I panicked because I thought he might have arrested or killed fairies in the past. Has he?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe ask?”

  “And get caught in a lie when he asks why I want to know?”

  “Good point.” She reached to pet Roald, who’d tensed up when the new cat walked past him. “I don’t think it’s lying that’s the problem.”

  My own cat was watching me wearing an expression I could only describe as ‘what is that crazy woman doing?’

  “It’s okay for some people,” I told it. “You’re a cat. You can do whatever you like and nobody will judge you for it. You aren’t failing at being a fairy and a witch at the same time.”

  The cat yawned and started washing itself.

  “You aren’t failing at anything,” said Alissa. “If anything, you’re coping admirably well. Also, familiar or not, it’s generally not a good idea to ask for life advice from a cat.”

  “I suppose I should name it,” I said dubiously. “It’s a he, right?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Okay… how do you like the name Paws?”

  The cat shook his whiskers, like he thought I was dense.

  “Too obvious? Okay… how about Sky?”

  He licked its paw, which I assumed meant approval, and bounded onto the arm of Alissa’s chair. Roald hissed at him.

  “You haven’t won this,” I said. “Fairies don’t have familiars. You’re staying here on the condition that you don’t bully any other animals, got it?”

  “Miaow.” He took another swipe at Roald. Alissa leapt from her seat as Feline Wars Part 2 erupted.

  Oh boy. This is going to be an adventure.

  14

  I went into work on Monday in a much better mood, despite the spectre of Mr Bayer’s unsolved murder and Callie’s situation hanging over me. Partly it was due to my new levitating boots, which I’d eventually got the hang of after a series of hair-raising mishaps yesterday. Or maybe it was because I’d been too preoccupied chasing my new cat to dwell on the investigation
.

  With our leads gone, the only option was to sneakily call the three rejected people again and hope they wouldn’t bite my head off this time. And also hope that I didn’t get found out by a certain police officer. Or anyone else, for that matter. Two of the interviewees were out of work, which did give me a good enough excuse to speak with them and find out if they were interested in working with Eldritch & Co again.

  I skimmed through today’s client list to find a likely position that would fit one of the candidates. Eventually, I came across one. Vaughn would fit the bill—without having to pretend to be magically talented or disclose his werewolf nature.

  I dialled the number.

  “Yes?” the werewolf rasped tersely. “What do you want this time?”

  “I found the perfect placement for you,” I told him. “But before I arrange an interview for you, I’m going to need you to answer a few questions first. Honestly.”

  “Yes?” he said warily.

  “Are you a werewolf?”

  There came the immediate sound of a dial tone. I waited a few seconds, then called him back.

  “I’m not—”

  “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have hung up on me,” I told him. “The day after your fight with Callie, she turned full wolf and hasn’t recovered. Know anything?”

  “No. Why would I?”

  “She knew what you were,” I said. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, but the legal implications of hiding your status from the pack would create a situation for my colleagues and myself which I’d frankly prefer not to deal with. It doesn’t matter to this client, either way.”

  “If this isn’t confidential,” he rasped, “I’ll… I’ll.”

  “That sounds like a threat. Mr Llewellyn—”

  “Okay, okay, I’m a werewolf,” he said. “I don’t want anything to do with the pack. Any of them.”

  I thought of the band at the New Moon. I’d want to avoid that, too.

  “What about shifting at the full moon? You do that, right? Isn’t that… dangerous?” I didn’t know every detail of how the pack worked, but I did know that safety was their number one priority.

  “I have someone who locks my room when I transform so I don’t escape. Why? Has someone been attacked by a wolf?”

  “No, my colleague’s been permanently turned into a wolf. At least, none of us can turn her back. We’re pretty sure it’s a spell. Has it ever happened before?”

  “I’ve been outside the werewolf community for years. I don’t know. You mean Callie, right? They’re saying Mr Bayer’s murderer did it.”

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s what we think, anyway, but since none of us has been able to take the spell off, naturally we had to think of the last time a werewolf came into our office. Callie recognised you and you stormed off.”

  “I didn’t attack her,” he said defensively. “You know I don’t have any magic. If I’d started a fight with her, you’d have found both of us brawling until one of us passed out.”

  His words carried a ring of truth. “Assuming I believe you, we still need to find who did it.”

  “The killer? Why not finish her off?”

  “Haven’t a clue.” He had a point, though. But inept or not, the killer had tried to get me eaten alive by killer plants. Not an act of a person who’d let the innocent office assistant get away alive—right? “It’s not like any of us has a wolf’s senses. We still don’t know if the spell was cast from inside the office.”

  “If it was, I’d be able to sniff it out,” he said. “Tell you what—can I come and talk to you in person again?”

  “You can sniff out spells that are several days old?”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Okay, I’ll clear a space on my schedule at noon.”

  Sorted. I could deal with today’s paperwork before then—and maybe get to the bottom of the case. He wasn’t a bad guy after all, for a temperamental werewolf.

  I returned to my inbox, noticing Blythe glance at me over the desk. She’d probably been reading my thoughts, so it wasn’t like I could pretend to have been on script, but I hardly cared. He can sniff out the villain. Callie could, too, but she wasn’t able to communicate with us despite our best efforts. I pretended not to notice when Blythe got to her feet and walked over to my desk.

  “Hey, fairy,” Blythe hissed in my ear.

  I turned slowly towards her. “Blythe. What can I do for you this fine morning?”

  “You,” she said, “need to stop.”

  “You’ll have to be a little more specific than that. If you’re reading my thoughts, then it’s not my problem if you don’t like what you hear.”

  “I can’t believe you have the nerve to invite another murder suspect into the office.”

  “Same one as last time, actually.” I gave her a smile. “I’d have thought you’d want to clear up who attacked Callie.”

  “Not by threatening all our safety,” she said.

  “Relax, we have a security werewolf.”

  She snorted. “Yes, we do. Better than the other security we had. He was far too easily distracted.” Her words were knowing. She’d definitely picked up on my wayward thoughts about Nathan at one point or another.

  “There you have it. Go back to work.”

  “I could report you,” she said.

  “You could. But the boss didn’t bat an eyelid the last time I invited him here.”

  “And have you told her the truth yet?” she said. “You’re no witch. This office is for witches. Four witches.”

  “Wouldn’t it be even worse luck not to have a fourth member?” I pointed out. I didn’t believe in superstitions, and if it’d been any real issue, the others would have brought it up. I pointedly picked up the phone. “If you don’t mind, I have a call to make.”

  She huffed and stalked away, while Bethan shot me a sideways look. “I wouldn’t provoke her.”

  “She’s doing a spectacular job of provoking me. Besides, I think I’m close to solving this.” I’d met too many petty people like her in the normal world to be put off by her constant grumbling.

  “I’m not disputing that, but there’s a risk. If he’s guilty—”

  “It’s not illegal to hide your paranormal type, is it?” I said. “We still have no evidence he committed a crime. But he might be able to sniff out who did it.” And I wasn’t about to toss an innocent man into jail. I’d heard the paranormal prison wasn’t a pleasant place, and Steve the Gargoyle was unlikely to give anyone the benefit of the doubt.

  “Do you really want to push your luck?” she said.

  “No, but the sooner we deal with this case, the better for everyone.” I heard the creak of the front door opening from the reception. “He’s not supposed to be here until noon.”

  “Ah.” Bethan leapt to her feet. “The boss—”

  “Incoming,” Lizzie warned, and the printer made a growling noise which might have been a warning, too.

  Veronica’s sharp voice carried through the slightly open office door. “What are you doing here?”

  I looked at Blythe in disbelief. She’d told the boss. I shot her a glare. Seriously? How had she even known he’d arrive early? I left my files in disarray and hurried out of the office. That’s what I got for making reckless decisions.

  Veronica stood beside the desk, her wand in her hand, while two huge werewolves filled the rest of the area. Positioned nose to nose, they growled at one another.

  “There seems to be an unregistered werewolf in here,” Veronica said.

  “Really?” I said weakly. He was huge. Twice Callie’s size, with a long face and teeth. Oh no. I hadn’t even had the presence of mind to grab any silver.

  “Callie!” said the boss. “Lie down.”

  She growled in answer.

  “Did he do it?” I mouthed at Callie, indicating the other werewolf.

  She let out a whine and shook her head a little before lowering her paws obediently. I looked at the boss in surprise.

&nbs
p; “He’s tame. Just had a shock, didn’t you?” Veronica sounded like a pet owner comforting her dog after a thunderstorm.

  Everyone else wore expressions of varying degrees of confusion, except Blythe. Steam might as well have been coming out of her ears. “There is a werewolf in here.”

  “Yes, there is,” said Veronica. “She’s worked here longer than you have.”

  I nearly laughed that time. The second werewolf let out a whine, then turned human again.

  “Vaughn Llewellyn, is it?” said Veronica. “I’ve had my eye on your case for a while.”

  He drooped his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “How do you know who I am?”

  “You’ve used our services multiple times,” Veronica observed. “I assumed you had good reason to hide your real identity?”

  I wheeled to face her. “You knew?” Then he can’t be the killer. My boss might be a little eccentric, but she wouldn’t let a murderer walk in here. Not with her alleged paranoia about security.

  “I had my suspicions. Are you ready to turn yourself into the pack now?”

  He made a whining noise not unlike his wolf form. “Chief Donovan? Please, no.”

  I snorted. I couldn’t help it. Even Callie looked sympathetic, though it was difficult to read facial expressions on a wolf.

  “All right,” he muttered. “I’ll tell them. Just as long as they don’t make me play guitar.”

  “I think a cat could do a better job than their current bassist,” I said.

  All eyes turned to me. Oops.

  “She’s right,” said Veronica.

  I was starting to worry Blythe’s head might actually explode. “You knew he was an unregistered werewolf?” she asked, through teeth so tightly clenched, her voice dimmed to a low whine not unlike said werewolf.

  “At this point, the whole office does,” said Veronica mildly. “You didn’t have a problem bringing up the subject at the coven meeting this weekend. Blair, dearest, I’d like a word with you later.”

  My heart sank. Despite her lack of concern, it was technically my fault he’d come into the office in the first place, but it looked less and less like he was actually responsible for the attack on Callie, let alone the murder. Unless his guilty conscience was an act, but surely the boss would have seen through it if it was. “Okay. Do you need someone to take him to the pack?”