by CC Dragon
“No, thanks. That should help. Thank you,” I said.
The human world had made their decision. Now, if they were wrong, I had to figure it out. I had to think about it and talk it through with some people.
* * *
An hour later, I invited Esme for morning coffee in the second-floor area. We sipped coffee as I told her about Mr. O’Conner and Detective Shelley. She seemed very relieved.
“So, you think my spell was wrong? That it was natural causes?” I asked.
“Oh, no, but the humans are satisfied. That’s what matters first,” she said.
Her face froze.
“Did you have anything to do with the threats or Mrs. O’Conner’s death?” I asked.
“Certainly not.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.
“I have a lot of secrets. Some I can’t tell you.” She sat back.
The truth potion worked but I had to ask specific questions to get answers.
“Who did you tell about the threats?” I asked.
“A lot of people. I was trying to find out who did it, which means you have to talk about it. But that was after.” She glared at me. “Truth potion won’t last forever.”
“I had to try. What secret do you know about me? What is no one telling me?” I asked.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She held her throat like it was a struggle.
“Okay. Who did you see the day Mrs. O’Conner was here after her incident? Who would you have told in time to make the threats or do something?” I asked.
She shook her head. “They wouldn’t.”
“I remixed the potion to confirm if it was a natural death or not.” I led her into the locked area on the second floor. She stared at the cauldron.
“Do it,” I said.
Esme said the spell this time. Red for unnatural and green for natural causes. The potion turned pink.
“Unclear,” she said.
“What do you know about me that you won’t tell me? Do you know what it is?” I asked.
“I know. I can’t. I swore. A bigger promise and stronger spell controls that more than your little truth potion. Move up to the big leagues.” She laughed.
“Who else knows this secret?” I asked.
“Your mother,” she said.
“She’s dead. My aunt?” I asked.
“Yes. And uncle. One of the twins. That’s all.” She held up her hand.
“Why are you pushing me to engage the magical worlds, now? Why not put me in those groups and activities when I was a kid?” I pushed.
“They might have discovered your secret before.”
“That would be bad?” I asked.
“It wouldn’t be good.” She glanced around.
The potion might be wearing off. She was powerful enough to try and counteract it.
“Why? What is it about? My father was a gypsy?” I asked.
“No,” she said flatly.
“Did I have a sibling who was killed?” I asked.
“No,” she said firmly.
I was running out of ideas.
“Why is it okay for me to socialize now when I don’t even know the truth? I might screw up and reveal something. Shouldn’t I know?” I demanded.
“You need allies and friends like yourself. Powerful and magical. Telling you the whole truth is not my decision to make,” she said.
“Which twin knows?” I asked, more as a test since I knew.
“Iris,” she said.
Esme rubbed her face and walked away from the potion mix.
“That was low,” she scolded.
“I needed to know if you were protecting someone. All these weird changes happening right after this death. Are you trying to distract me?” I asked.
“Please. You need a social life. You need a husband. Don’t you want a powerful family?” she shot back.
“But what secret could be so bad that you kept me from socializing all of my childhood? Why can’t you tell me?” I pushed.
“We had to protect you. You were gifted. I promised not to tell you.” She answered the questions in order.
“Promised who?” I demanded.
“Your aunt.” She rubbed her neck. “Enough. It’s wearing off. I’m going to brew an antidote, and you better watch out that I don’t mess with your memory,” she warned.
“You didn’t tell me enough to bother with that,” I said.
“Don’t go interrogating your aunt or cousins either. They won’t tell,” Esme said.
“What could be so bad?” I asked.
“Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s good. But it’s not time to tell you. It’s not for me to be the one to tell you either,” she replied.
“And I thought you were family. You were my mentor.” I put the potion away.
Esme left the locked room before I had to throw her out. I locked the door behind us and turned to face her. “I really thought I could trust you. I never doubted you before. Now, you’re keeping secrets and treating me like a child.”
“It’s your aunt’s place to tell you. Not mine,” she said.
“So, I’ll go push her.” I headed for the stairs.
“No, not now. Not here. That’s a private conversation.” She slid past me to go back to work.
* * *
The next day, I sat at my table in the café and made notes about summer promotions. Ryan’s ideas weren’t so terrible. I had a few for the spring. We needed to make up a bit for the dip Mr. O’Conner had caused in our winter sales. A young woman walked into the café, and I felt her power. She immediately went up to Violet and started chatting. The shop wasn’t busy. Maybe it was a friend from school?
I kept one eye on the chatting girls. Iris joined in.
“You should really join our coven,” Iris said.
“I don’t know about that,” the new girl said.
“You said you have powers. You should meet Claudia,” Violet said.
I lifted my head. The girls looked over at me. “Come on over.”
“This is a new girl at school, Serena Murray. She’s very into witches and pagan stuff. She’s majoring in women’s studies, and the witch trials are a huge part of that,” Iris said.
“How interesting. Nice to meet you, Serena.” I shook her hand. “You’ve got powers?”
She shrugged it off sheepishly. “Sort of.”
“Who are you related to? Which magical family?” I asked.
Serena went a bit pale. “Um. I’m staying with my cousins, right now. Killean.”
“I know Bran. He mentioned you but not your name, so I wasn’t sure. You’re welcome to join our coven, but I understand if you don’t want to.” I sipped my tea.
“Why?” Iris asked.
“Big magical families tend to sort of be their own coven—so to speak. They don’t join others where there are a lot of members without powers. The Killeans keep to themselves,” I replied.
“Yeah. I’m new to the area, so I’m trying to make friends. I think the twins are great. I love this place. Great feel.” Serena looked around.
“You’re welcome anytime. I have a fair set of powers myself. I’ve been busy with other things lately. Businesses are a lot of work,” I said.
“They told me. I can’t believe someone threatened this place. Rude and ignorant people really deserve to get a tough lesson,” she said.
“Thanks. It’s good to know there are some supporters. I’d love to hear more about your major. Maybe you could speak to our coven about the witch trials’ impact on women’s rights and history?” I suggested.
“Maybe, once I’ve had some actual classes. I took basics at a local college down in South Carolina. Then, my parents wanted to do this Euro tour thing. I wanted to keep studying. I traveled enough every summer of my childhood. I told them I’d meet up with them on summer break, but I want a degree. Bran is very supportive of that. He’s always after me to do my homework and giving me magical challenges.” She rolled her eyes.
&n
bsp; “Sounds like a good atmosphere for your goals.”
“You should work here,” Violet said.
“Work?” Serena laughed.
“Vi, I don’t think Serena needs a job. The Killeans are quite well off.” I nodded.
“That’s downplaying it. But, yeah, let people who need jobs take them. I need a lot of study time and magical practice,” she admitted.
“Well, once you get the hang of it, you can always volunteer somewhere. If you want to give back a bit,” I suggested.
“Sure. Maybe a women’s shelter,” Serena said.
She had a theme, and I didn’t hate it. “An excellent idea.”
“Anyone else threatening witches?” Serena asked.
“No, that was just an annoyed customer. All cleared up,” Iris said.
I leaned in. “We try not to get confrontational with our customers. Even if they’re wrong. We try to educate and invite, not attack.”
“Of course, do no harm,” Violet said.
“Absolutely!” Serena sat. “I love the karmic balance in the world. I’d never attack anyone, but I would love to teach them about karma. We don’t go protesting their churches or beliefs.”
“True,” Iris agreed.
“What’s through that door?” Serena pointed to the basement door.
“Storerooms and basement. Nothing interesting.” I shrugged it off.
“Cool. I feel like this building is very old. Full of spirits and stories. Maybe I could research it. Maybe it was an old witch’s shop? Someone who was killed?” she asked.
“I doubt it. It was built in the 1800s, not the 1600s. It’s all brick, so it holds the history in the stone. You can research the land and what was here, certainly. It might be something, but the building isn’t quite old enough for the witch trials.” I liked the girl’s spunk, but she seemed scattered. Poor Esme, trying to get her to focus on her magical studies.
“Could I get the tour?” she asked.
“Not now. I’m afraid we’re doing inventory, and the basement area is a mess. You and the twins can hang out in the coven room or the reading nook on the second floor while it’s quiet,” I suggested.
Esme walked up from the basement, and I saw Serena freeze up. “Sorry, I have to go. More homework awaits.”
Ellen walked up as Serena bolted out the door.
“Who is that girl?” Ellen asked.
“A friend from college,” Violet answered.
“We’re back to work, now. Don’t worry,” Iris added.
“I’m not worried. That girl left us a fifty-dollar tip. She can come back whenever she likes.” Ellen grinned. The twins followed Ellen back to the counter.
“She knows how to make a good first impression,” I said to Esme.
Esme walked up. “She was here?”
“Why? Isn’t she allowed? The girl is what? Nineteen? She can come in for coffee,” I said.
“Of course. I just usually keep my private lesson students away from here. I don’t want them dropping in for help or bugging me while I’m working. Boundaries are good,” she said.
Esme still looked rattled. “You can be mad about the truth potion all you want. Until you tell me the truth about myself, the secret, I won’t even begin to apologize,” I replied.
She shot me a look of disapproval.
“If you were in my shoes, you’d do the exact same thing. You wouldn’t stop until you found the truth. Neither will I.” I shot her an icy stare.
“That doesn’t involve Serena or Bran. That family is powerful. You don’t want to cross them,” she said.
“You wanted me to get involved with one of them. Now, I need to be careful? What is the deal?” I asked.
“Just be careful. Grow your powers. Don’t spend so much time worrying about the past. Some secrets really don’t matter, anymore,” she said.
“I don’t believe you for a second.” I stalked off. Who could I totally trust, anymore? My nice little world felt much darker and more complicated than it did just a week ago.
20
I felt a bit frumpy. Black sweater dress, purple tights, black boots and a black leather jacket. But it was cold outside. Showing skin wasn’t an option. I wasn’t ready for that anyway. I had a lot to talk to Bran about. But it felt more like a summit meeting about issues than a date. Good thing I hadn’t mentioned it to Esme or my aunt. I met him at an Italian place on the other end of town.
“You look lovely,” he said.
I took the single black calla lily he offered. “Thank you. Esme mentioned she’s tutoring your cousin. I didn’t want any of our family to get too excited or ahead of us. My cousins and yours are young enough to…”
“I understand. Esme never married, did she?” he asked.
“No.” I followed the host who sat us in a private room. Bran took my coat and held my chair. This was a showing off date. Bran was impressing me.
“Champagne?” a waiter offered.
“No, thanks,” I said.
“Burgundy wine?” Bran suggested.
“Just a little,” I agreed.
The waiter handed us menus and poured the wine. “I’ll give you a moment.”
“You really didn’t need to go this fancy, Bran,” I said.
“If I’m going to do something, I do it right.” He sipped his wine.
“Why did you ask about Esme?” I asked.
He lifted a shoulder. “She might be living vicariously through you. She has a long life ahead of her but half of it being feline. I don’t know how she does it.”
“I don’t either. I thought I wanted that when I was young, but I couldn’t shift to feline in time. Now, I’m more relieved I didn’t.” I tried the wine. It was rich and earthy.
“I’m glad you didn’t either. My cousin likes you, by the way. She mentioned talking to you at the café. If she gets under your feet or makes a pest of herself, let me know.” He stared at the menu.
“She wasn’t a pest. She knows the twins from school. She did rush off when she saw Esme, but no one wants to be cornered by a tutor when they’re out with friends or getting coffee. I’m sure she’ll settle in and get comfortable.” I examined my options for dinner.
“I hope you’re not a vegetarian,” he said.
“No, I’m not. My aunt is so I can make a meal out of anything. But the Cajun chicken pasta looks good,” I said.
“Not the prime rib?” he asked.
“I prefer my steak well done. I don’t like to remember anything bled for me to eat. I’m not a vampire.” I smiled.
“So, those rumors are false.”
“You believed them?” I asked.
“No, you’re far too hot-blooded for that. I’m sure they’ll cook whatever you like however you like it.” He set the menu aside. “I hope you don’t believe the rumors about me.”
“I’m not sure what the rumors about you are. Your family is old, wealthy, powerful, and reclusive. Esme says you’re a homebody. I don’t know much else, besides what you told me about your businesses.” I sat back and waited for more.
“I’m actually quite boring. I like succeeding in business. I like when the magical world is calm and things are in order. I traveled over the summers with my parents. They moved to Ireland when my brother finished school. Couldn’t pass up an old castle.” He smiled.
I liked his smile. He cared for his family and wasn’t ashamed of it. “Who could turn down a castle?”
“It’d be much easier to manage your hunter friend in a dungeon,” Bran said.
The waiter showed up and took our order. I got the prime rib well done just to see his eyebrow arch.
Once we were alone again, I thought about a dungeon. “Do you really have a dungeon?”
“Want to see it?” he offered.
“I’m not sure. Is it empty?” I asked.
“For now, yes. Is he giving you more trouble?”
I shrugged. “He wants to leave. I want him to go. But there are issues. Finally, the cops are off of my back. W
e have the autopsy results for Mrs. O’Conner, so it was natural causes. I guess my spell was wrong. But I don’t know if I trust that hunter. His case is hard to get details on. Killing a werewolf who is killing humans is one thing. But I don’t think he’s telling me the whole truth.”
“Is he bound to?” Bran asked.
“No, but if he did something really wrong, I don’t want him out there as a danger to others. He landed in my basement, and I feel responsible. Why doesn’t the paranormal world handle this? Why don’t we have wizards or witches who hunt down vamps and weres who kill humans? We could handle it better,” I said.
Bran nodded. “Gypsy hunters are a tradition of the human world. They protect humans from the paranormal. We could handle the bad ones if we chose to. But I’m not sure we want to make enemies of the gypsies. There are strong witches among their numbers. They always want to be apart from other humans and from us. It’s complicated.”
“Why don’t vampires self-police or werewolves? Like humans?” I asked.
“Some say, because they were human once, they still think of themselves as human with a little more power. Some never asked for that to happen to them. Then again, the more powerful vampires and weres believe they have a right to live how they want to live. That their nature makes them hunters and killers. Those large groups go where the carnage is so they won’t be noticed.”
“Like war zones?” I asked.
He smiled. “War zones. Places with rampant illness. Gypsies live in a lot of places around the world, but they move on when things get too dangerous. They’ll be out of that area before you hear the word refugees. They see three steps ahead. So, then, the vampires and weres are free to feed. To feast. My brother is fascinated by it. You’d love talking to him.”
“I don’t want details about the carnage. I employ a lot of vampires who don’t want to hurt people. They have two options. Blood bank expired or butcher blood. They attack a human, and I’ll stake them myself.” I shook my head.
“And werewolves? Do you help them, too?” he asked.
“Sure. If they need a potion to keep them from changing, we provide it free. If they refuse the potion or it doesn’t work on them, we lock them up for the nights of the full moon. That’s why I have the cells in my basement. Occasionally, we catch a newbie who doesn’t know they’re a were. Once they do, they can make a plan and get the potion. It works on most of them. But now, I feel like we need to police the hunters who like their job too much. Go too far,” I said.
