Black Magic Kitten

by Sara Bourgeois

  "Thanks."

  I left the desk and walked toward the big "Dairy" sign hanging from the ceiling. There I found a woman dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. She had a burgundy apron tied over her clothes. Her dishwater blonde hair was tied up in a bun at the base of her skull. When she looked up at me, she was vaguely familiar, and then it hit me. She looked just like the woman who'd approached me when I was waiting outside the shop, but it couldn't have been her. I'd just seen that woman an hour or so before, and Stella was working, right? As I looked at her more, I realized she looked very similar, but it wasn't the same woman.

  "Can I help you?" Stella asked cheerfully. It sounded genuine, and it was definitely not the same woman.

  "Hi.. uh.. my name is Kinsley. There's no easy or good way for me to say this, so I'll just say it. I wanted to talk to you about Merrill,” I said and held my breath.

  "He's dead,” she said matter-of-factly.

  "I know. I, uh... found his body at the diner last night. I was hoping you might know who might have killed him," I blurted out.

  "Sheriff's already been to talk to me this morning, so who are you?" she said. "You know what, I was about to go on break. As much as I hate to waste that blabbering about Old Merrill, we can go outside. I don't want any of my coworkers hearing anything I've got to say."

  I followed her outside to the back of the building where there was an ashtray and a bunch of milk crates set up around it in a circle.

  "I hope you don't mind if I smoke because I'm going to," Stella said. She pulled a pack out of her apron followed by a lighter. I stood quietly while she lit the tip and inhaled deeply. "A lot of people hated Merrill. It's hard to say who wanted him dead, and I can't lie. I'm one of those people. There's no point lying about it now, but I was at work last night. I've got two jobs to pay for the mountain of debt Merrill left me in the divorce. I work up at the county hospital on second shift. I was there last night when he died in case you got it in your head that I did it."

  "I was just hoping as his ex-wife, you'd know who might have wanted him dead. I didn't think it was you," I lied.

  She took another drag of her cigarette and then talked while she exhaled. "You aren't a cop, so who are you?"

  "I'm Kinsley Skeenbauer. I'm not a cop, you're right about that. Like I said, I found Merrill last night, and I guess my interest is that I'm sort of a default suspect too. I just moved back to town yesterday, and I guess I'd rather not have everyone thinking I'm a killer right off the bat."

  "You're the one my sister was talking about last night. Sorry, I was already on my second whiskey when she came over talking about Merrill being dead and some new chick in town being the number one suspect."

  "I think I met her this morning,” I said.

  "You have to ignore my sister. She doesn't drink or smoke, so her only outlet is her righteous indignation and anger," Stella said and took another deep drag. "Sharlene's husband died a while back, and I can't prove nothing, but I think she took up with Merrill for a while. I wondered where all of her righteousness was then, but then again, I didn't really care either. I mean, other than that, she could do better. Not much better, but better than Merrill. I'm pretty sure she eventually had to break things off with him, but I doubt she ever totally gave up on the idea of rehabilitating him. Once Sharlene gets her teeth in an idea, she's like a pit bull. Never gave up on our good-for-nothing daddy either. Not even when he drank himself into the grave. She'd still tell you to this day, that mean SOB had redeeming qualities. He didn't."

  "So are you saying you think your sister might have killed Merrill?"

  "Heck, no," Stella said. "Sharlene's nuts but not that kind of nuts. I was just telling you why she was so terrible to you this morning."

  "How did you know? I just mentioned meeting her,” I said.

  "I could tell by the look on your face," Stella said and stubbed out the butt of her cigarette. I was worried she'd have to go back inside, but she pulled out another one and lit it. "As far as who might want Merrill dead, that line forms to the right. I can tell you this, he didn't just run up credit cards. He owed a lot of people money. One in particular had been threatening him for at least a year. Merrill even begged me for help, but I didn't have a cent to give him. I guess I should feel bad about that now, but I have a hard time."

  "Who's the man who Merrill owed money to?" I asked.

  "I'm not sure I should tell you,” she said and took a drag. "I don't care much for Merrill, but I don't want your death on my hands. He's not someone you should be messing around with."

  "I can handle myself,” I said.

  "I can see that about you,” she said. "Don't look like you take no stuff from nobody. Okay, I'll tell you, but you have to promise me you won't do anything stupid."

  "I won't. I promise I won't get myself into any trouble I can't get back out of."

  "All right. His name is Azriel Malum and you'll find him at an abandoned warehouse outside of town. It's an old Coke plant,” she said.

  "That sounds like a made up name,” I said. Or it's a witch.

  "It most likely is. Azriel is a biker, and that abandoned Coke plant isn't really abandoned. It's their clubhouse."

  "A biker?" I said.

  "Yep, and not one of those weekend warrior club types either. These are outlaws."

  "I didn't know Coventry had an outlaw biker gang,” I said and swallowed.

  "They rolled in and took over that old Coke plant about four or five years ago. They don't really mess with anyone in town. You have to go looking for trouble with them, but that's exactly what Merrill did. He was mean, but he was dumb too. Welp, I gotta go back in. I can't afford to lose this job, and they get twitchy if are breaks are a minute over our time."

  "Thank you,” I said.

  "Don't thank me yet,” she said and started to walk away. "You ain't no killer, so I'd steer clear of Azriel. Let this stuff work itself out."

  It was good advice, but I wasn't going to follow it.

  Chapter Nine

  Again, I still had hours until I needed to meet Castor at the diner. Daytime seemed like a better time to go to an outlaw biker clubhouse, so I got back in the car and looked up the location for the abandoned Coke plant on my phone.

  "You're not seriously thinking of going there,” Meri said as he climbed over the console to look at my phone.

  "It sounds like a good lead,” I said. "Why, do you know if this Azriel Malum is a witch or something? The name sounds vaguely demonic too. You think he's a demon?"

  "I don't think so, or I'd have probably heard of him. I think what that Stella woman said was correct. He's a biker with an intimidating name."

  "And if he's a demon, you can just blow him up,” I said.

  "We're going, aren't we?" Meri said.

  "Yes, right now. I am pulling out of this parking place, and we're going to go ask a biker if he killed someone."

  "Sounds like fun,” Meri said.

  "I knew you'd see it my way."

  There were a lot of motorcycles in the dilapidated parking lot of the old Coke plant. It was a bit intimidating considering that Stella had said they were a criminal enterprise, but as long as I wasn't walking into a rogue coven of witches or a nest of demons, I knew I'd be fine. I hoped I could work my magic, anyway.

  I located what I thought was the front door based on the loud music coming from inside. As soon as I walked in, everyone stopped and turned to stare at me. Someone turned off the music.

  My eyes swept the place for danger. There were several very large men dressed in ripped jeans and leather biker cuts. The inside of the clubhouse was far more opulent than I expected. It was not a dingy, seedy backwater bar.

  It was dark inside other than the swirling shapes of black lights that ran up the walls and covered the front of the black wood bar. The tables were the same black wood, but the chair seats were lined with what looked like red velvet. It was all very goth, and again, not what I expected at all.

  "A witch and a
black cat walk into a bar," a voice boomed from across the room. I squinted my eyes and saw a man sitting in a black throne-type chair against the wall farthest from us. "The punchline, my dear, is that you do not belong here,” he said and laughed.

  I felt my throat start to close a little, and I swallowed hard. "I'm looking for Azriel Malum,” I said as confidently as I could.

  It wasn't very confident, though. He knew right away that I was a witch and that meant I wasn't dealing with ordinary men. I'd walked into a bad situation.

  "Come here," the man sitting on the throne said.

  I went to take a step forward and hesitated. While I wanted to talk to the man, I was concerned about moving away from the door.

  "Step forward, woman," he commanded. "You don't need to be afraid. While you're here, you are under my protection. My word is my bond. No harm will come to you."

  "Do we believe him?" I asked Meri.

  "You're the one that wanted to come here. You knew what you were getting into."

  "I don't think I did,” I said and swallowed again.

  "He said his word is his bond. That's more than a promise. I can get us out of here if he's lying,” Meri said.

  "Okay."

  I walked through the room, and while all of the men stared at me, none of them moved in my direction. As I got closer to the man on the throne, I got a much better look at him. His alabaster skin was like porcelain, and his irises were as black as night. He smiled at me as I drew closer and revealed long fangs.

  Vampires.

  I'd walked into a vampire den. Of course Stella had no way of knowing, but I should have been more careful. Against one vampire, I would have been fine, but I was surrounded by at least twenty of them.

  "Why are you looking for me?" Azriel, the man on the throne, asked.

  "Because I've clearly made a mistake,” I said.

  He laughed. "I like you, witch."

  "I'm here because a man was murdered last night. His name was Merrill Killian. His ex-wife told me that he owed you a lot of money. She said you weren't the type of person who it was safe to owe money to, so I came here to talk to you about it. She had no idea who you were, hence I've walked into a vampire den."

  "You thought we were just outlaw bikers and that a witch like you could handle herself," he practically purred at me. "Though, you are powerful. I'm not entirely confident we could take you out. Not with your little furry friend there helping you. That's a compliment."

  "Thanks, I guess,” I said. "So, I think I'll go now. Maybe I'll just let the authorities handle the murder investigation after all."

  But then I remembered Thorn. He wasn't a witch, and I didn't want him accidentally walking into this place. The Coke plant was technically in the county, though, so maybe he wouldn't be involved. That meant potentially letting someone else put themselves in harm's way.

  "You're not the police, then why are you here? Why would you risk putting yourself in danger to investigate Merrill's death?"

  "I just got back to Coventry last night, and I am the one that found the body. That makes me a suspect. It's a long story, but I'm trying to start a business. I just don't want the whole thing further tainted by people thinking I'm a killer. I had some time to burn, so I thought I'd try to clear my name,” I said.

  "Further tainted?" Azriel raised an eyebrow.

  "It's a long story."

  "I'm a patient man."

  "I'm Kinsley Skeenbauer. My parents are Brighton and Remy Skeenbauer, and my grandmother is Amelda. I'm supposed to be the leader of the Skeenbauer Coven, but I left Coventry when I was seventeen. The whole town, especially the ones who don't know about witches, think I'm just some spoiled brat jerk who ran off and broke my parents' hearts."

  "You're Kinsley Skeenbauer?" he said, and I saw something flash in his eyes. Could it have been fear? At the very least it was apprehension.

  “I am,” I responded.

  “Well, Kinsley, I can tell you that I’m disappointed that Merrill is dead. He owed me a lot of money, and I can’t get money out of a dead man, now can I?”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  “Hurt him… yes. I would and have done that, but I would not kill someone who still owed me a debt,” Azriel said.

  “His ex-wife said that he owed a lot of people money. Do you happen to know if he owed money to anyone who isn’t as… disciplined as you?”

  “I wasn’t his nanny,” Azriel said shortly. “I only know what he owed me.”

  “Okay. Thank you,” I said and then looked over my shoulder to see if I had a clear path to leave. I did.

  “I could help you,” he said. The congenial tone had returned to his voice, and I felt myself drawn to him.

  He was the spider and I the fly. It would have worked except Meri picked up on it too and protected me. When I felt his hold on me release, I was almost sad for a second. For a split second, the notion that I might enjoy being destroyed by him drifted through my mind.

  “But, then I would owe you,” I said.

  “That’s the idea,” he said.

  “Why would I do that?” I asked. “Why would you even want to help me?”

  “The answer to your first question is that I have eyes everywhere. I have my men here, sure, but there are a lot more that owe me. Just because I haven’t heard anything about Merrill’s death doesn’t mean that I don’t potentially have access to that kind of information,” he said and stood up. His rise from the chair was so fast and fluid that it was almost as if he’d appeared directly in front of me. “As to why I would want to help you, that’s simple. Having the most powerful witch I’ve ever met owe me puts me in a good position.” He leaned in and began to whisper in my ear. “I want you close to me.”

  A shiver ran down my spine, but Meri’s magic kept me from being completely intoxicated by his words. “You’re dangerous.” Was all I could manage to squeak out. I felt my cheeks color with embarrassment at my reaction to him.

  “Not to you.” His lips were even closer to my ear. “Never to you.” Azriel stood back up and gave me some space. I didn’t realize until he did that I wasn’t breathing. “Nor to anyone close to you.”

  “I accept your help,” I said and then bit my bottom lip hard.

  I was an idiot.

  “Good,” he said and rubbed his hands together before retreating to his throne. “I know where to find you.”

  And with that, I could tell I was dismissed. I turned to leave, and every vampire in the place stepped back and gave me an even wider berth.

  As soon as we were outside and the sun was on my face again, I felt like I was waking from a dream. “I shouldn’t have done that,” I said as I put Meri into the car. “I can’t believe I put myself in debt to a vampire to get information on some stranger’s murder.”

  “Girl, I’m a cat, and a dude, and I probably would have given that man anything he wanted,” Meri said. “I tried to help, but even my protection magic can only go so far.”

  “I’ve heard you can blow up demons,” I said skeptically.

  “Yeah, but did you see his eyes?”

  “Now I know you’re just messing with me,” I said.

  “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not,” Meri said and curled up on the seat.

  I arrived at the diner at ten minutes before six. I wanted to get there and get a table since I figured they’d be busy around that time.

  I did have to wait a few minutes to be seated, but just as Reggie was showing me to a booth, I saw Castor pull into a parking spot and make his way into the diner. I waved at him when he came inside.

  There was a brown accordion folder tucked under his arm, and I was so eager that I pulled a pen out of my purse and placed it on the table. I left the envelope full of cash out of sight, though.

  “Hello, Kinsley,” Castor said as he slid into the booth. “I thought for sure you’d stand me up. I can’t believe I’m finally going to rent this place out.”

  “I’m here,” I said. “I’m excited to get star
ted on my business.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I just have to ask one more time. I feel bad about this. Like, if you were my daughter, I’d be ticked off that some old guy was taking advantage of her enthusiasm.”

  “You’re not taking advantage,” I said. “I understand the issues with the place, and I’m not worried about it. I’ve lived in haunted places most of my life. It’s like water off a duck’s back to me now.”

  “That’s right. You just moved into that Hangman’s House, right?”

  “Moved back in,” I said. “I grew up there.”

  “That’s right. That’s right. I heard that. Wow, that place had to be creepy,” he said. “It looks like something out of a horror movie.”

  “It has its quirks,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been scared there.”

  “I didn’t mean any offense,” Castor said.

  “None taken. I think that it’s because I grew up there. It just never bothered me. There’s a really old cemetery across the street too. It’s supposed to be the final resting place of the witches who were hung in the tree out in front of my house. I don’t know. It’s hard to be afraid when it’s been a part of your life for your entire life,” I said with a shrug.

  “Well, it sounds like I’ve found my perfect tenant,” he said and pulled a small stack of papers out of the folder. “The lease is pretty basic, but I’ll give you time to read over it.”

  While I was reading, the waitress came and took our orders. I got the Reuben with waffle fries just like Castor. It sounded good even though it was not something I would normally order.

  I had the lease signed and the money passed over to Castor before our food even arrived. By the time it did arrive, I had just about wound the conversation around to the previous tenant in the shop.

  “So, you said something about a bookstore in the shop?” I said as the waitress set the plates down in front of us.

  “Yes, it was a bookstore before. That’s where all of the shelving came from. The former tenant left in a hurry and never came back for the shelves. If you can’t use them, I could have them taken out,” Castor offered.