by Esme Addison
“What’s the Warsaw Shield?”
“It doesn’t exist anymore, as far as I know,” Kamila explained. “It was forged by mermen under the Baltic Sea, and it was supposed to make anyone who wielded it invincible to both Mundane weapons and our magic. The Mermaid of Warsaw—our ancestor—used it to protect the city. One of the Wesleys stole it from our family, but before we could get it back, it was destroyed by a fire set by witch hunters. The Wesleys claimed to have found it in the rubble and hidden it away somewhere, but no one believes that.” She waved a hand. “Who knows what’s actually true?”
Alex mulled over this information. She had just learned about magic, but there was so much she didn’t know. “So, is magic bad?”
“It feels great at first, don’t get me wrong. But over time, the power we feel when practicing corrupts us.” She positioned her body to look Alex in the eye. “You see Mom’s temper, don’t you? Those flashes of pure, violent rage? It drove our father away.” Kamila’s voice caught on her words. “And she’s only getting worse, and right before our eyes.”
Alex sighed, vaguely recalling Minka and Kamila’s father. A fun uncle who was always smiling and giving her candy when she visited. But then one summer, he just wasn’t around anymore. A divorce, she’d heard her parents whispering one night. He’d had enough and left without a backward glance. She’d never heard her cousins discuss their father, and she felt strongly that now was not the time to ask questions.
She glanced around the garden filled with beautiful flowers, medicinal plants, and healthy fruits and vegetables, and she knew that her aunt was good, even with her temper. “Your mom only uses her magic to heal. How can that be bad?”
“That’s not bad in itself,” Kamila conceded. “But it’s like … have you heard of a God complex? Sometimes doctors get it.”
“Sure. They believe they’re powerful. Invincible, even.”
“The same thing happens with Magicals,” she said. “You cure a cold. Then you cure someone’s eczema. Then you enhance a couple’s fertility. A Magical can start to feel like she’s got power over life itself, like she’s justified in choosing whether a Mundane lives, suffers, or dies.”
Something about her cousin’s words gave Alex pause. She had observed that since Randy Bennett’s murder, Kamila had been keeping her distance from the family. “Do you think your mother has reached that point?” she whispered. “Do you think she actually killed Randy Bennett?”
A flash of pain crossed Kamila’s face, and her voice wavered. “She practices magic and her temper is out of control. She hated him.” Tears began to fall down her face. “How can I be certain she didn’t?”
“Kam, I was there when Randy came into the shop last Monday.” Alex took her cousin’s hand. “Your mom didn’t have time to poison the tea she gave him from the back room. She only went there because the jar on the shop floor was empty. We all had dinner together on Monday night, so we know she didn’t leave the house. And she didn’t go to Randy’s house on Tuesday night, when he died, either. Pepper Bellamy followed Lidia right after work to some kind of meeting with Tegan Wesley. They had an argument and it was all captured on video.”
Kamila was deep in thought. “Edwin Kenley asked the police to run a check because Randy hadn’t shown up to an important dinner meeting on Tuesday night. Probably because he was already dead at dinnertime.”
“Right. And that means your mom wouldn’t have had the opportunity to poison him. She was working in the shop all day Tuesday, and she went to a meeting directly after work.” She squeezed Kamila’s hand. “It wasn’t magic that killed him. These were old-fashioned poison berries that someone had to drop into his tea. She didn’t do it.”
Slowly, Kamila nodded. “Okay. You’re right.” She drew a breath before her face crumbled into a sob. “I’m just relieved,” she told Alex, who’d pulled her into a hug. “I thought for sure …”
Alex swallowed. “I understand.”
The door to the house opened, and Minka appeared and glanced around the yard. Once she spotted them, she walked over quickly. “Is everything all right? Mom and I were getting worried. Oh.” She stopped when she noticed that Kamila was upset. “Why are you crying?”
Kamila wiped her cheeks with her fingertips and gathered her breath. “You know how I feel about practicing magic, and now you’re bringing Alex into it. And I’m worried about Mom.”
Minka sat on the other side of her sister and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I know you hate magic. But lots of what worries you hasn’t even been proven. It’s all theory, not fact. Mom and I are careful not to let it corrupt us, okay?”
Alex had to admit, if you gave Minka a poufy white dress and a glittery wand, she’d practically be Glenda the Good Witch.
But Kamila tightened her lips and looked away without responding. Alex was relieved to hear Minka say that Kamila’s objections to magic were based only on theory. She was excited to explore her abilities, and she wasn’t worried about somehow becoming corrupted by her own powers. Her cousin meant well, but Alex didn’t see any evidence that Minka or Lidia was suffering from a God complex.
“Kam,” Alex said, “is there any way that you can talk to Jack about looking at other suspects? He won’t listen to a word I say.”
“Can’t. The prosecutors built an ethical wall around me,” Kam said. “If I got Jack to look in another direction, the prosecution would be tainted and the killer would walk.”
Alex could imagine that scenario. If Kamila influenced Jack to look at another suspect in order to help her mother avoid jail, any decent defense attorney would eat the Bellamy Bay PD for breakfast. “So if you helped Jack to find another suspect—the real killer—your involvement would create enough reasonable doubt to get that killer out of serving jail time.”
“Exactly,” Kamila said. “If the defense attorney caught a whiff of my input, they would tell the jury that I was only trying to help my mom, and that I planted evidence or something, and that she was the real guilty party all along. Then we’d be right back here, with someone getting away with murder. So the best thing for everyone is for me to stay out of it, as grueling as that is.”
Alex had always admired her cousin, but now she saw a new facet of her strength. “You’re a person of principle,” Alex remarked. If her mom had been falsely accused of murder, she didn’t know if she could have been so restrained.
“I believe in justice, and I believe in process,” Kamila replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve gotten to know Jack better, and he’s a good detective. I know that he will set this right. It’s only a matter of time.”
Minka rested her head on her sister’s shoulder. “You have such a good heart, even if we don’t agree on everything.”
Kamila returned the compliment with a hug. “I’m sorry I got angry. I just worry.”
“I know you do. But if I ever went dark, became a practitioner of black magic, I’d quit cold turkey. You have my permission in advance to stage an intervention.”
Kamila smiled but maintained a look of skepticism. Alex decided to change the subject. “I have something to tell you, but you have to promise not to tell your mom.”
In a low voice, she detailed her meeting with Dylan earlier that afternoon and explained that a member of his family was responsible for erasing Pepper’s memories and stealing Captain Bellamy’s journal. “I understand why they would erase her memories and blog posts, but why steal the journal? Even if Captain Bellamy called us water witches, no one would believe him.” Alex leaned closer. “There’s something more in that journal. I want to know what it is, and I’m going to find out.”
“How?” asked Minka.
“Dylan invited me to a charity auction at his home tomorrow night. I’m going to try to find that journal.”
Her cousins grew serious. “I don’t suppose we could persuade you to reconsider?” Kamila said quietly.
Alex shook her head. “Nope. Sorry.”
The sisters exchanged a worried glanc
e. “The Wesleys really are trouble,” Minka said. “Mom’s not kidding. And they don’t like our family, so that’s a double threat to you.”
Kamila shook her head and rose to her feet. “I can’t be involved in this. I love you, Alex, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. I wish you’d let this investigation of yours go and trust the police.”
“Are the police currently investigating other suspects?”
Kamila hung her head. “No.”
“Then I don’t have any choice. I understand if you can’t help, but I’ve got to try.”
Kamila sighed, “I should get going home. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” With that, she returned to the house.
Once they were alone, Minka scooted over to sit closer to Alex. “Please be careful.”
“I promise.”
“I’m going to teach you a trick for guarding your thoughts, too. We respect each other’s privacy in this family, but I don’t trust Dylan one bit.”
“That’s a good idea,” Alex agreed. “I have a feeling he was eavesdropping on my thoughts today.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Minka kicked her heels against the fountain. “You know, we could also create a guidance spell for this investigation. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that sooner. It’s just that I don’t use them that often—”
“A guidance spell?” Alex sat bolt upright. “That’s a thing too?”
Eyes sparkling with excitement, Minka nodded.
“Brilliant. Let’s do that now.”
She began to stand, but Minka grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. “Not so fast, Sherlock. If we’re going to do a guidance spell, I need something that Randy Bennett touched or owned. Otherwise it won’t work.”
“You’re kidding.” Alex rolled her eyes. “How in the world am I supposed to get that?”
“No one said it would be easy.” Minka smiled. “But I have faith in you.”
Alex would have to think about how to go about getting something Randy had touched. For now, though, she had to think about how to protect herself from the Wesleys. “All right. Tell me how to guard my thoughts.”
Chapter Fourteen
On Friday night, Alex was grateful for safety pins. This emerald-green cocktail dress had always been one of her favorites: sexy without giving too much away, elegant without being stuffy. She loved the organza straps across the shoulders and the way the body of the dress clung before falling into a gentle A-line at the waist.
“That should do it,” Minka said as she pushed the fabric into place and secured a final pin.
Alex studied her reflection in the standing mirror and did a little twirl, feeling like a child playing dress-up. “Minka, your pinning skills are unparalleled.”
Her cousin curtsied before dropping the safety pins into the palm of her hand. “You know I’m walking on thin ice here,” she reminded Alex. “Mom would not approve of you going to the Wesleys’ place tonight.”
“So I’ve heard,” Alex replied.
They had been through this a hundred times, but Alex no longer cared. She was a grown woman who could do what she wanted. Alex turned to face her cousin. “Do I look okay?”
Minka grinned. “Are you sure you don’t have a crush on Dylan?”
Alex moved away before Minka had the chance to see her blush. “I have to look presentable. You know that.”
But Alex knew she looked more than presentable. Her dark eyebrows were freshly arched, her makeup was flawless, and her hair was pulled into a fishtail braid that had taken Alex ages to get perfectly loose and deliberately messy. The final touch was a spell for silence that Minka had put on Alex’s thoughts to make them unreadable for the evening. She’d tried to teach Alex how to guard them herself, but she hadn’t quite mastered it.
“You look like a movie star,” Minka said. “Now go find that journal.”
Alex mock-saluted her before sneaking down the stairs and slipping out the door before her aunt noticed. She entered Dylan’s address into her phone and backed Minka’s car out of the driveway and into the road. The directions took her on a scenic coastal road that gradually led to the Peninsula. Water glinted on either side of the road and the sun was just setting, turning the sky a dreamy mixture of creamy white, orange, pink, and purple. She could get used to that view.
She’d been referring to the Wesley house as an estate, but now as she approached, she realized it was more of a compound. After the car passed through the wrought-iron gates, the imposing gothic structure rose into view as if emerging from the ocean below. The dramatic pitched roofline and pillars commanded attention and evaporated Alex’s confidence. What, exactly, was she messing with here?
She pulled around the circular driveway and stopped the car beside waiting valets in formal black dress. One opened her door while another assisted her out of the car and escorted her to the wide steps of the mansion. Inside, guests in formal wear lingered and chatted, sounding like an enormous flock of geese. The men were sharply dressed in tuxedoes while the women glittered in diamonds and gemstones. She was captivated by the enormous five-tiered crystal chandelier that dangled in the foyer beside a winding staircase. Alex clutched her handbag as she walked across the travertine floor. She had been to fancy cocktail parties before, but this was way out of her league.
Before she could freak out and retreat to her car, the crowd parted and Dylan entered her view, his dark eyes fixed on hers. He was arresting in his black tuxedo, and heads turned as he passed. Instantly, her stomach roiled with nervous energy. Was she really going to pull this off and find that journal? At least her thoughts were hidden for the evening.
“Aleksandra.” He lifted her hand and bowed to kiss it, keeping his gaze on her the entire time. “You are breathtaking.”
“I could say the same about you,” she whispered, and blushed. “This house is incredible. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
Dylan smiled and righted himself again, keeping her hand in his. “The Gothic style is a bit gloomy to me, but the house is large enough that we can all live here and maintain our privacy.”
“Your family must have lived here for hundreds of years.”
“About a hundred,” he replied. “The house my ancestors built burned down, unfortunately. They purchased this one from some robber baron.” He gestured toward the interior of the home. “Come. I’ll show you around.”
He set his hand against the small of her back and led her into the crowd. Alex braced herself to nudge her way through, but somehow the partygoers parted for them, turning their heads, smiling and nodding as they passed. Dylan radiated authority. Alex had to admit that being in the presence of someone so powerful was intoxicating. Maybe there was something to Kamila’s theory that power quickly went to a person’s head. “Where are we going?”
“I want to introduce you to your hostess.”
They climbed a small flight of stairs to a landing that overlooked the crowd below. Here was an elegant woman dressed in a draping black dress that sparkled when she moved. Her dark hair was pulled into a chignon and her diamond chandelier earrings caught the light as she turned. Alex recognized her at once as Tegan Wesley. Her porcelain skin called attention to the intensity of her chilly blue gaze. She reminded Alex of a wolf.
“Mother,” Dylan said, “do you remember Aleksandra Daniels? She’s Bianca Sobieski’s daughter.”
Tegan bared her teeth in a small smile. “You look exactly like your mother,” she said, and set a cool hand on Alex’s bare wrist. Her own shone with silver bands and precious gemstones. “Tell me, how is Lidia?”
Alex studied Tegan, wondering how she intended that question. At best, Tegan Wesley took pleasure in the thought of her nemesis rotting under house arrest. At worst, Tegan was pleased that she’d framed Lidia for the murder of Randy Bennett.
“She’s doing about as well as you could expect, under the circumstances,” Alex replied carefully. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mrs. Wesley. It’s nice to meet you.”
Tegan must have been exquisitely beautiful when she was younger. As it was, she was in her sixties and still a stunning woman. Maybe not a wolf. A reptile? Something cold and unfeeling, and with a capacity for … murder? A chill went up Alex’s spine. Yes, she felt confident the woman before her could kill without blinking an icy-blue eye.
“You haven’t been around here in a long time,” Tegan observed. “We weren’t sure what happened to you.” She kept her fingers gripped on Alex’s wrist.
“Yes, it’s been a long time,” she agreed. She gestured to the room below. “What an event.”
Tegan allowed Alex her arm back. She turned to her son. “I assume you are doing introductions. You will find Bryn down there somewhere, probably drinking too much and flirting with some trust fund degenerate instead of networking like she’s supposed to.”
His smile tightened. “Mother.”
“At least my son is reliable.”
Alex took a breath. “I want to express my condolences. About Randy Bennett.”
Tegan turned towards her. “Randy Bennett?”
“You knew him, didn’t you?” Alex explained. “I remember reading something about a real-estate matter. Didn’t you sell him some land?”
Tegan’s lips curled into the unfriendliest of smiles. “You are mistaken. I never sold that man any land.”
Alex feigned confusion. “I must have been thinking of something else. Oh, right.” She snapped her fingers. “It was a dispute about some land. A lawsuit, correct?” Her heart was pounding.
Tegan’s eyes flashed a warning, but she remained outwardly calm. “Yes. Now I remember. There was a disagreement about some property. A minor thing, really. I’m surprised you would bring that up.”
This piqued Dylan’s interest. “What was this, Mother?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, and waved her hand as if shooing a fly. “It was resolved. But I didn’t know Randy, no. Only in passing. Our lawyers handled the entire thing.”
“Was this the same land that Bellamy Bay Realty is building apartments on?”
Tegan gestured down at the crowd. “If you’re so interested in Mr. Bennett’s affairs, his wife Stephanie is right there, in the blue dress. She’s generously donated a week at their place in Hilton Head for the auction. Poor pet. She just lost her husband and she’s putting on such a brave face.”
