Cupcakes, Trinkets, and Other Deadly Magic

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  The glow around the door abruptly disappeared.

  “Jade!” Sienna cried, as she turned to run her hands over the now blank wall.

  I stood and brushed off my jeans. I had no idea if I had shut down the spell or if it just blinked out on its own, but I wasn’t sticking around to be bullied further.

  “You know your way out,” I said as I crossed back to the basement stairs.

  “Jade!” Sienna cried again, but I didn’t look back.

  “If I don’t get in touch with Gran tomorrow, I’m sending the hotel staff, or the police, or someone to look for her. Clean this up. I’m going to bed.”

  I left them there, even though I was pretty sure Sienna was about to throw a fit. I was certain they couldn’t replicate the spell without me, and I had no intention of ever going into that basement again. I wasn’t remotely interested in secret doors that led to hell knows where, and was actually pretty freaked that I had one of them two floors below my living room. I’d seen enough horror films to know when to leave such things alone, or to come back with bigger guns. Guns of the type my Gran wielded.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I couldn’t sleep. I was hyper aware of everything magical around me. Sienna and Rusty downstairs, the collected bits that I made into trinkets in the studio, and even the Magical Compendium on top of my bureau seemed to beckon. I’d never had to deal with residual magic from a casting like this before. It was as if the spell had hyper-charged my dowser abilities to the point where I saw magic everywhere I looked. If I closed my eyes, I could feel it like the lightest of breezes all around me, following me from room to room and into my bed.

  The residual eased a bit once Rusty and Sienna left, though they lingered long enough in the bakery kitchen that I was sure my chocolate supplies had taken a serious hit. But still, even then, lying in bed was getting me nowhere near sleep.

  I pulled out the blanket my Gran had knit for me when I’d moved out of the house and into the dormitories at the University of British Columbia. The dorm had only been a fifteen-minute drive from Gran’s house and the university hadn’t stuck with me longer than two years, but I cherished the blanket. I spread it on the floor between my double bed and dresser, then sat down on it cross-legged. Yes, I was planning on actually meditating. And yes, I was doubtful of my ability to do so.

  I removed my necklace and twined it around my wrists and through my fingers. Its supposedly fascinating magic — according to the vampire — didn’t bother me at all. I rested my hands on my knees, palms facing down to not invite more energy, and closed my eyes. I inhaled slowly and deeply, and when I exhaled, I imagined all the magic I felt coating me like good quality body cream — thick and luxurious — moving through my limbs, through my hands, and into the necklace.

  Yeah, I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I didn’t channel magic. Hell, I didn’t hold magic in the palm of my hand and fling it away from me. Magic didn’t obey me … at least it never had before. I was just a detector, somewhat useful if another witch was wondering if they had a magical dud on their hands, or when collecting stones — such as jade — from the rivers in Squamish Valley. I could find things easier; that was all. At least that’s what I’d always thought the limit of my abilities had been. Then the vampire had showed up spouting off about the trinkets, and my necklace … and then … Hudson.

  I threw up a blank wall between my thoughts of Hudson and my concentration on moving the magic out of my body and into the necklace. I’d been stupid. It was over now. It’s just … the bed behind me was a big reminder that I’d wanted to invite him here. I’d wanted to see if we danced as well horizontal as we had vertical.

  I quashed those thoughts — for the second time. I’d never been good at focusing unless I was baking or making trinkets. I hadn’t had sex in six months, and my last romp had been spectacularly disappointing, then had hung around way past his welcome. I wasn’t hard up, but I was getting there. That’s all Hudson was … a distraction, a playmate.

  I squeezed the necklace until the metal cut into my fingers. This was seriously uncomfortable, but it helped me refocus on my breathing.

  ∞

  I must have fallen asleep like that, upright and cross-legged in the middle of my bedroom floor.

  I wasn’t sure what had woken me. My legs were going to scream bloody murder when I tried to move, but they were currently nicely numb. I looked down at the necklace draped between my hands and across my calves. It glowed lightly, which even my sleepy brain understood might actually mean I’d been capable of channeling magic into it. The glow also drew my attention to the general lighting of the room. It was nearing dawn.

  Something scratched at the window, and there were no trees in the alley. The scratching noise repeated. I wound the necklace three times around my neck, very surprised that my arms obeyed. When shortened this way, it slung just over my collarbone.

  The scratching was probably just one of my trinkets moving in the wind … though it sounded too regular and persistent for the randomness of wind.

  It almost sounded like a dog scratching at a door to be let in … but it had been a long time since I’d owned a dog, and I was pretty sure a canine couldn’t climb onto a second-storey balcony.

  I moved toward the window, again surprised that my legs had no issue with unfolding and holding my weight. As in my craft room, a small Juliet balcony hung off this window. This one held a few pots of lavender, not that it was nearly hot enough to grow lavender on a north-facing balcony in Vancouver. The plants seemed healthy enough, though, even if slow growing.

  I pulled back the gauzy outer curtain and the thick blackout curtain behind it at the same time.

  Kandy, her short green hair rain-slicked to her pale face, stood perched on the balcony, as the vampire had done outside the craft room. She’d jumped or climbed two storeys to stand on a wrought-iron balcony that was meant for show, not sunbathing. Wet, her hair looked almost black, but her eyes were the same vibrant green I’d seen them flash before. She stared at me. I stared back at her, wide-eyed.

  It had obviously started raining in the night.

  “Are you okay?” I rather mildly asked.

  Kandy shook her head; she could obviously hear me through the glass. “You’ve been summoned.”

  The green-haired werewolf’s voice was low and scratchy with dark emotion. Her eyes glowed greener, and I imagined that if I wasn’t behind the wards, I would feel her magic gathering around her.

  The hackles on the back of my neck rose as my adrenaline kicked in. A werewolf very close to transforming stood on my balcony. The wards should hold her, but my neighbors had no such protection. If she turned, would she understand the idea of innocent bystanders? I hadn’t gleaned enough accurate information from the Compendium to know one way or the other. It declared all werewolves to be beasts in either form, but I knew now from personal contact they were no such thing — in their human form at least.

  “Summoned?” I repeated.

  Kandy nodded.

  “Who has the right to summon me from my bed before dawn?”

  Kandy showed me her teeth. I was sure they were pointier than they had been before. “Desmond Charles Llewelyn, Lord and Alpha of the West Coast North American Pack, son of Charles Abraham Llewelyn, a lord of the North American Assembly, requests your presence. Now.”

  I didn’t like the sound of all those titles, but seeing as how I wasn’t a werewolf and was currently dry and warm in the safety of my own home, I kept up the brave front. “You expect me to follow you out into the pre-dawn to meet some guy who has absolutely no authority over me? Ever heard of email or the phone? Hell, or knocking on the front door for that matter?” And where the hell was Hudson? I didn’t ask that last part out loud, but I sure as hell wondered why he wasn’t at my door instead of Kandy on my balcony.

  “I expect you to resist. I expect to test your wards. I expect to either die tearing through them, or to wrap my hand around your far-too-hum
an neck and drag you from your bed.”

  Well, that was exceptionally clear. My mind clicked madly through all the information I had gleaned from the Compendium about werewolves. Could she compromise my wards? Would they kill her? I didn’t like the idea of snuffing out the life of this vibrant, fiercely beautiful woman.

  “And if I come willingly?”

  “Your safety is guaranteed, from me at least. I’m simply the courier.” And I was obviously the package.

  I looked beyond Kandy’s shoulder to where the mountains should be. The day was dawning gray and with lots of low cloud. The mountains were completely obscured. I knew I was going to go before I made my decision. I felt like my life had taken this odd turn and I wanted to veer back. If that meant talking to this lord guy, then that was just what it took.

  Honestly though, part of me was intrigued and excited. Things such as vampires and werewolves just didn’t happen in Vancouver, to me at least.

  “Five minutes,” I said, and I backed away into the bedroom. Kandy snorted in disbelief, crossed her arms, and kept her glowing green eyes on me through the window. Those eyes had dimmed a bit, actually. I took that as a good sign.

  I pulled on jeans, a light sweater, and my Hunter rain boots. You didn’t live in Vancouver without wetwear. My boots were Original Tall Gloss’s in cornflower — a birthday gift from Gran. I pulled them on with an odd tinge of anger as I wondered if I was going through a late rebellion. The thought made me laugh, but only in my head. Kandy’s glower was too intimidating to feel lighthearted enough to laugh out loud.

  “Bakery, alley door,” I called to Kandy. I left the bedroom as she dropped from sight. I seriously hoped all the neighbors across the alley were deep asleep and not witnessing that agility display.

  I grabbed the last three cupcakes from the fridge as I passed through the kitchen, managing to knock a stool over as I crossed around the island with them in my hands. I left it rolling around on the ground, cursing the fact that Sienna was right and I should probably get rid of them.

  ∞

  I passed the cupcakes and a pink paisley umbrella to Kandy as I stepped from the back-alley door. She sneered at the umbrella but took the cupcakes without comment.

  By the time we’d turned on to West Third Avenue, I trailed about a half step behind the werewolf and still had no idea where we were going. Kandy had inhaled all three cupcakes and not said a word to me. I figured the best way to make friends with a dog was to feed it. I hoped that held true for werewolves. Otherwise, I was pretty sure I was about to get the same treatment as the cupcakes.

  “We’re walking?” I asked as we dodged through the cars parked along Vine Street to cross the road. Even with my Hunter boots and umbrella, I was going to get soaked.

  Kandy didn’t answer. She walked fast enough that I always dragged a bit behind her. I assumed this was purposeful after I tried to close the gap a couple of times, so I just let it be.

  We turned onto West First Avenue at the bottom of the hill, heading west. I could hear a few cars on Cornwall Avenue two streets north, but other than that, the very wet neighborhood was still asleep. We were heading vaguely in the direction of my Gran’s house. Feeling guilty about defying Gran’s rules of staying away from others of the Adept by traipsing through the early morning dawn behind a werewolf — wow, really not a rebel, was I? — I pulled my cellphone out of my sweater pocket, thinking Gran might be awake, only to have it snatched away.

  I hadn’t even seen Kandy turn around. But in a blink, she had my phone in her hand. She started to tuck it into the back pocket of her jeans, which were soaked through to the skin.

  “Wait! Please, that costs six hundred to replace. I just got it, on contract. You’re —”

  “What?” Kandy snapped, interrupting. “What am I, witch?”

  “Wet,” I answered, completely confused at the aggression. “I promise I won’t use it. I’ll turn it off.”

  Kandy grudgingly handed the phone back to me, watching me as I shut it down. I tucked it into the front left pocket of my low-slung jeans. It felt awkward, sticking out there, but I thought it better if Kandy could keep an eye on it easily. The werewolf turned west again and I brushed my hand over the invisible knife I wore on my right hip. It was good to know that werewolves couldn’t see through magic — or not my grandmother’s magic, at least.

  ∞

  Fifteen more minutes trudging through the spring downpour, and we turned off into Tatlow Park. Kandy led me toward the First Avenue entrance. The park ran between Cornwall and West Third Avenue with multiple entrances. A kids’ play area, along with a parkboard house, was just off the Third Avenue entrance.

  A short run of lawn quickly gave way to old, sparsely spaced fir trees. A little farther along, a walking bridge arched over a creek that usually ran dry. The park also continued across Cornwall to the north, but it was mostly lawn and ocean cliff there. I’d done a yoga class on the grass at sunset in that part of the park in July and August last year.

  “We’re meeting in the park?” I couldn’t keep the dismay out of my voice. The thighs of my jeans were soaked through and getting uncomfortable.

  Kandy didn’t answer, but she did stop. I closed the last two steps between us and waited. This close, I could see the sheen of magic on her skin. The rain seemed to sharpen it, or perhaps the reveal spell’s effect on my dowsing ability hadn’t fully worn off yet.

  Kandy stilled — stiffened actually — her gaze drawn beyond the walking bridge. I turned my head to see what she was looking at. I saw him, the brutal man McGrowly from the club, by a stand of trees. Behind him the cedar and fir trees thickened into a grove along the west edge of the park.

  He was watching us. I had no idea how long he’d been there, and I couldn’t sense any magic from him at all. Though now that I was focused in that direction, I could feel something behind him. A collection of people and something else … something not right …

  McGrowly gestured to Kandy and she stepped forward.

  I didn’t want to follow. I didn’t want to step any closer to what I was now feeling behind him, but I did. I told myself I was simply hyper-aware because of reveal spell’s residual magic, and that there was nothing to fear in the small wood.

  McGrowly didn’t take his eyes off me as we approached. It wasn’t an admiring gaze. Even calling him McGrowly in my head wasn’t helping with the intimidation factor. When we were in front of him, Kandy stepped off to the side, then slid around McGrowly to disappear into the thickening trees.

  I waited.

  He took my measure and came up unimpressed. My pink paisley umbrella seemed to amuse him, not that he smiled. I doubt his face was capable of such things.

  He lifted his nose and scented the air. I’d never seen a human do so before. It looked funny. I smirked. I probably shouldn’t have.

  “What are you?” he asked, his voice deep and demanding.

  “What are you?” I snarked back. I knew without question that my tone was a problem for him, because next thing I knew, I was pinned against a fir tree, my feet scrambling to find solid footing and my umbrella tossed to one side.

  He wasn’t hurting me. His thick hand was spread across my upper chest, his fingers splayed across my collarbone. I was pinned, like a cat pins a kitten. I didn’t struggle and I didn’t meet his gaze, but I only remembered that last part because he wasn’t looking at my face. He was staring at my necklace, still wound three times around my neck. He’d been careful not to touch it. He must have been able to feel my heart thrumming against his palm, because I could. He seemed distrustful of the necklace.

  I didn’t move. Hell, I tried not to breathe. The strength in that one hand scared the shit out of me, and was worse for the fact that he held me so lightly.

  He flicked his eyes to mine. They were golden-brown and shot with flecks of iridescent green — emerald, like Kandy’s had glowed. However, he seemed completely in control, so I guessed that the kaleidoscope effect
was normal for him.

  I averted my eyes, and he huffed what was probably a snarky laugh — self-satisfied prick. He was completely aware that I was scared out of my mind, and he enjoyed it.

  He leaned into me, his mouth slightly open, breathing in as if he was tasting my neck just an inch or so away from my carotid artery.

  “What are you?” he murmured, but it wasn’t a question for me. He was just thinking out loud.

  I answered anyway. I was stupid that way. Foolhardy, my Gran called me. “Half-witch. Half-human,” I snapped.

  “Half-witch, yes. But the other half is something I’ve never smelled before. Something spicy, like Chinese food from Shanghai.”

  “I do not smell like Chinese food!”

  He laughed. It was a short burst of amusement at my expense.

  “My back is digging into the damn tree,” I said.

  “Does it hurt?” Oddly, it didn’t. Not exactly.

  “It’s uncomfortable.”

  “You deserve it,” McGrowly said, but it was a statement not an accusation.

  “I told you, Desmond.” A cool voice spoke from behind me to the left. “The witch isn’t complicit, but she might be able to point us in the correct direction.” So McGrowly was Lord Desmond what’s-his-name. I should have known, what with all the high-handed pinning to trees going on.

  “You didn’t tell me she smells like Chinese food, vampire.” The curl of Desmond’s lip was full of condemnation for the vampire, who had just stepped into my peripheral vision.

  “It was not relevant,” the vampire said.

  “I do not smell like Chinese food!” I repeated, not sure why I was making a big deal of it except it was just … insulting.

  “The shifter is simply articulating, within his limited means, that you are not wholly witch.”

  Desmond growled and released me. I ignored the urge to collapse against the tree and commanded my legs to hold me upright. They did. I didn’t miss the ‘limited means’ part of the vampire’s comment. He didn’t think highly of werewolves — or at least of Desmond.