Witch out of Luck Page 7

  First, I had to get through work. I wished I hadn’t told the others I’d be meeting Nathan’s family. Where was a spell which erased humiliating events from existence when you needed one? You’d think the magical world would have come up with a solution. At least Alissa had left me a mug of extra-strength coffee before her shift. While I drank it, Sky followed me around, meowing.

  “If you follow me to work, we’re going to have to have words,” I said to him. “Look, you never had any trouble staying at home before. What’s the issue?”

  He brushed himself against my legs again. I downed the rest of the coffee and gave him another stroke. “I already fed you,” I said. “Stay put, Sky. I’ll be back soon.”

  Sky swatted at Roald, Alissa’s cat, who’d come to see what was going on.

  “None of that either,” I said sternly. “Sky, behave yourself.”

  Fairy cats. Honestly.

  No elves ambushed me on the way to work. I made a point of leaving ten minutes early this time, but I was still the last to arrive at the office after I’d had to detach Sky from my legs four times on the way out the door.

  Our little office bustled with activity. Lizzie, printing something, Bethan, going through files, Rob the werewolf… wait a minute. He wasn’t supposed to be here. But Rob sat at the fourth unoccupied desk, for all the world as though he’d already been hired. “Er, Rob, what are you doing here?”

  “I work here,” he said. “Hey, Blair, it’s great to see you.”

  “Okay…” I turned to Bethan for answers. “Wasn’t I supposed to be interviewing other possible team members today?” Okay, the others I’d interviewed yesterday had left much to be desired, but still.

  “You can get on with that while he helps out,” said Bethan. “My mum’s idea, but you’re the one who suggested a trial shift.”

  So I had. “Um, Rob, does your uncle know you’re here?”

  He blinked his blue eyes. “I didn’t know I was supposed to tell him whenever I went anywhere.”

  “I, uh, just wanted to make sure he won’t get mad at us for hiring you,” I explained. “Since he kind of blames me for the times Callie got stuck in wolf form, among other things. Let’s just say we run into crises fairly often here.”

  “Oh.” His face cleared. “You think I’ve never dealt with a crisis? I live in a pack where everyone turns into animals for several nights a month and spends the rest of the time playing in a band that sounds like a pixie got stuck in a blender.”

  Bethan and Lizzie both snickered with laughter. So he doesn’t like their music, either. That put him higher in my estimation than most of the other werewolves I’d met.

  “I’m not just here to annoy Chief Donovan,” Rob said. “Trust me.”

  All right, then. At least his arrival should distract the others from asking me about my dinner with Nathan’s family. Now if only I could avoid the subject for the next few decades, things would be just fine.

  It was impossible to focus on interviewing other potential candidates with the werewolf’s loud and boisterous presence behind me in the office. Half of them seemed to think he worked here already, and by the time I’d dismissed the final recruit, I was frazzled beyond measure.

  “No new referrals,” I muttered, returning to the office to find that everyone had already gone home. I walked to my desk, my heart swooping when I spotted a note. Not from Nathan, but Rob.

  I tidied your desk, it said.

  I looked at the teetering pile of papers, which had been divided into three more manageable stacks and seemed to be colour-coordinated, too. Really? I guess he was trying to get in my good books. I knew where I was beaten. Just as long as the chief of the werewolves didn’t show up baring his teeth on my doorstep—or, god forbid, force me to watch his relatives perform in their band again—I was content to wash my hands of the matter. If the Chief had a problem with it… well, that was Veronica’s problem, not mine.

  I didn’t have a magic lesson after work that day, so I made my way to Annabel's house, hoping that my latest streak of bad luck was behind me. The seer’s granddaughter lived in a neat little cottage down the road from the main entrance to the witches’ area of the forest. The trees grew close enough to her garden that I half expected to see blinking elf-eyes watching from the shadows, but nobody accosted me.

  I knocked on Annabel’s door. There was a long pause before she answered.

  Annabel looked rough. Her fair hair was tangled around her heart-shaped face, and her grey-blue eyes were red-rimmed. “You again? What has my grandmother done this time?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “It’s not about her. I know it’s none of my business, but I ran into Bracken by the waterfall and he seemed pretty upset. He’s drinking and acting erratically, and he said it’s because you broke things off.”

  Annabel’s gaze dropped. “I guess I did. End things. I mean. What’s he doing by the waterfall?”

  “Drinking himself into an early grave,” I said. “It sounds like he’s exiled himself from the elf community at large and has shut himself away in a cave behind the falls.”

  “Oh, for…” Her forehead screwed up. “I knew he’d overreact. What were you even doing by the falls? Wait, it’s a fairy thing, isn’t it? I don’t want to know, then.”

  Her irritated tone signalled that not only did she have no idea what he was doing by the falls, but she didn’t know about the murder accusation either.

  “I was minding my own business when he grabbed me and nearly drowned me in the river because he thought I was going to steal his wine bottles.” Partly true. Mostly, I wanted to see her reaction.

  Her eyes brimmed over, and she shook her head. “The idiot isn’t thinking clearly. I knew he’d do something stupid.”

  “Is there a reason you ended it?” I asked. “He implied it came out of nowhere.”

  “Why did I end it?” She blinked tears from her eyes. “Because I saw it.”

  “You saw what?” I asked, perplexed.

  “I saw it. In a vision. I saw our relationship ending so I decided to get ahead of fate and finish things before he could.”

  I frowned. “Your psychic powers showed a vision of you breaking up, so you made it happen?”

  “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  Hang on. “Uh… I thought you didn’t have the seeing ability.” Too late, I remembered I wasn’t supposed to know that. I’d found out about her lack of talent when I’d been looking for clues as to whether she or her grandmother had cursed Mr Falconer’s apprentices. Still, that’d been months ago, and she’d probably forgotten the details of our last conversation.

  Her eyes clouded. “Yes. I didn’t have the gift. But I started trying to use my grandmother’s old crystal ball again, and since then, I’ve been having visions.”

  “Oh?” I said. “How do you know it’s seeing? I mean… I don’t know how it works, but I thought you could only develop magic in childhood.” Unless it was suppressed like mine had been.

  “So did I. My grandmother tried to teach me when I was younger,” she said. “She kept trying, and I was always disappointed I didn’t have the gift. But—now I do.”

  “But what if your vision was wrong? Isn’t seeing… I’m not an expert, but I didn’t think it was the most precise form of magic.” Not according to Madame Grey or Rita anyway. ‘Wishy-washy nonsense’, Madame Grey had called it.

  “I think seeing my relationship going up in flames was fairly clear.” A tear dripped from her eye. “I had to finish things or else he’d have ended it anyway.”

  I got the impression that she wasn’t in the mood to argue, but from what I’d heard from her grandmother, most seers’ predictions were inaccurate, or in old Ava’s case, totally made-up. Besides, a vision didn’t seem worth wrecking a relationship over.

  “Okay, help me understand,” I said. “What happens if you see something in a vision and let it play out? Does it always work like that, every time?”

  “It’s not always clear,” she said.
“Or strong. But I saw the two of us breaking up. There was no doubt about it.”

  “But did you have reason to think he might end it?” I asked.

  She sniffed. “Well, no. Things were going great. Perfect, even. I thought we were going—going to get married. But the visions don’t lie.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Um, have you seen him since then?”

  “What does it matter?” she snapped. “It’s over. Why are you so interested, anyway?”

  Here we go. “I don’t know if you heard, but someone drowned in the lake last weekend. The police are giving the elves a hard time because he and a few of the others were seen near the lake right beforehand. He’s claiming he was too drunk to remember anything that happened that day, but you know what Steve’s like.”

  “Steve?” Her eyes widened. “Has Bracken been arrested?”

  “Not yet, but I heard he’s on the suspect list.” Maybe they hadn’t found him yet. The cave was pretty well-hidden.

  “I can’t help him,” she said. “I can’t ever see him again.”

  “But—”

  With a sob, she closed the door in my face. I was lucky she’d told me anything at all. Perhaps she’d just needed someone to talk to, but I hadn’t the faintest clue how to convince a seer to change her mind.

  I left Annabel’s house, angling towards home. I’d already texted Nathan apologising for the spectacular catastrophe of yesterday evening but had received no reply yet. I doubted he’d be able to come along for moral support when I went to talk to Steve.

  I paused at the fork in the road. I wasn’t actually far from his house now. Before I could question whether I was tempting fate, I snapped my fingers, glamouring myself invisible. It wasn’t like I’d actually go inside the house. I just wanted to know if he was home.

  I flew towards the road of terraced houses. The clamour of raised voices halted me outside Nathan’s window, already regretting my rash decision. The window was wide open, and Nathan’s father’s voice drifted out.

  “Absolutely ridiculous, Nathan,” Mr Harker thundered. “This place is no fit place for a hunter to live. You know what Jay said—”

  “I don’t care what he said,” Nathan’s voice responded. “This is my choice. I have a life here.”

  “You mean, you have a girlfriend. One of them.”

  “I liked her,” Erin ventured. “She seems a lot of fun.”

  “Erin, you’ve always confused ‘fun’ and ‘dangerous’,” Mr Harker said.

  She snorted. “We hunt magical criminals for a living. They’ve done a lot worse than rain glitter and sprout wings on us. She’s not dangerous.”

  I felt an unexpected surge of gratitude towards her for defending me, but my heart still sank at Mr Harker’s undisguised condemnation. I couldn’t deny I’d seen it coming. I’d known Nathan and I would have issues pursuing a relationship from the instant I’d found out I was a fairy, which was why I’d gone to such lengths to keep it from him. My old fears threatened to bubble to the surface. Was there any point in trying to reconcile with people who’d see the worst in me even if I didn’t make a public fool of myself? The idea of avoiding Nathan until his family had gone wasn’t appealing either—but dragging him into the police’s investigation of Terrence’s death while his family were in town wasn’t an option. I’d have to go it alone.

  I flew back to the centre of the town and turned off my invisibility as I neared the jail. Or rather, the place the jail used to be. A new building sat in its place, a huge hulking grey-coloured monstrosity the size of a small manor.

  Whoa. This must be the new jail Madame Grey had funded. It looked positively high-tech for something from the magical world. I wasn’t sure I liked it, but at least the hunters wouldn’t have anything to complain about if they came back to do another inspection. Even a werewolf would have trouble tearing down those walls.

  As I stood staring up at the brutal new jail, Steve walked out the front door. “Blair Wilkes,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  I snapped on a smile. “Just admiring your new jail. It’s very impressive.”

  He didn’t smile back. “Would you like to see the inside?”

  “Ah, I think I’ll pass.” I took a step backwards. “When did you have it built? That was fast.”

  “Today,” he responded. “Those coven witches came and did their fancy trickery. We have cells custom-made for each paranormal, including sirens, elves… and fairies.”

  I didn’t miss the implication in his tone. “Nice work,” I said. “Did the prisoners have to be moved out of the place first?” After Blythe’s mother’s attempted jailbreak, I hoped not.

  “The witches did their magic on the old building without moving it,” he said, with a disgruntled look over his shoulder. “Not my style, but if it keeps those blasted hunters out…”

  Did he even know Nathan’s family were here? If not, I wouldn’t be enlightening him on the subject.

  On the other hand, I’d promised myself I’d at least try. “I don’t know if my friend Helen told you, but—I was asked to help her look into Terrence’s death.”

  I braced myself for his usual well, of course, you involve yourself in every situation involving a dead body, Blair Wilkes speech. Instead, he gave the jail another scowl. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve been supervising the witches for the last week, so I put Angus in charge of the investigation.”

  Huh. “So… you haven’t arrested any of the students? Helen was pretty worried about that.”

  “No,” he snarled. “I’ve been here all day making sure the construction work didn’t cause any of the prisoners to attempt a quick getaway.”

  And he marched back into the jail. I stared after him, but he didn’t come back out. The way into the police station next door was clear… and Steve wasn’t involved in the investigation. Finally, a bit of luck.

  I walked into the police station. Unlike the jail, it hadn’t undergone a makeover and was still small, cramped, and entirely unsuited for the giant winged person sitting behind the reception desk.

  “Did something happen?” I asked Clare, the receptionist. Usually. the gargoyles kept their wings hidden in their slightly-less-alarming human forms.

  Clare gave me a scowl. “I just felt like stretching my wings. Steve’s had me watching the bloody place all day while those witches did their construction spells.”

  “At least it’s done now,” I said. “I’m looking for Angus, if he’s around. I’m here on behalf of Helen from the academy.” I figured that would get a less hostile response than saying ‘the elf king strong-armed me into getting his friends off the hook’. “She’s getting concerned about the investigation into her student’s death, and I just wanted to clear a couple of things up…”

  Clare arched a brow. “Such as? I wasn’t aware you were an academy student.”

  “I take night classes from Helen,” I explained. “I heard the elves were accused of the murder. Is that true?”

  The gargoyle shifted back into her human form and rose to her feet. “We interviewed two of the students who were at the lake and they said they saw a number of elves in the woods on that day.”

  “The students said that? Have you spoken to the elves?”

  “I’m not in charge of the investigation,” Clare said. “And last I checked, neither were you. If the elves wish to defend themselves against the accusation, they’ll have to tell us that in person.”

  I thought so. “They asked me to convince Steve on their behalf,” I admitted. “I guess that’s not going to go over well, is it? I already know the ones in the woods didn’t commit the murder. They didn’t lie.”

  “Is that so?” she said. “I don’t need to remind you of Steve’s opinion on your… ability, do I? If you’re in contact with the elves, ask them to come here and speak for themselves. Nothing else will be acceptable.”

  Great. Getting Bracken to come here in person would require him to sober up, which seemed impossible. Unless, of course, I found the real
culprit. I’d forgotten all about asking the High Fliers if they’d seen anything from the sky. I didn’t know where any of them lived, but Helen would be able to tell me.

  Which meant one thing: another flying lesson.

  7

  My second broomstick lesson was as disastrous as the first. While I didn’t have a crowd of hyperactive onlookers this time, the broom tossed me off at every opportunity, leaving me bruised and frustrated by the time our allotted hour was up. Even Helen didn’t seem to be her usual perky self today, though part of that might be the ongoing lack of updates on Terrence’s murder.

  There was no good way to broach the subject while falling off a broomstick, so I waited until we were on our way back inside the witches’ place before asking, “Have the police come to any more conclusions about Terrence’s death yet?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not that I’ve heard, anyway. They haven’t come back to the academy since the first questioning.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Apparently, some of them mentioned the elves were seen near the crime scene to the police. So now the elves are mad that they’re being accused and want me to straighten it out.”

  “Why would they want you to do it?” She balanced her broomstick on her shoulder as she opened the door.

  “We have… kind of an arrangement. The elf king and me. Long story.” I followed her back into the building. “The police won’t believe me without proof, so I wondered if you knew who’d accused the elves so we can clear it up.” Not that I thought Bracken was innocent by any means, but the other academy students had been the only people aside from the siren who might have an actual motive to kill Terrence. Perhaps the real killer had accused the elves to cover their own tracks.

  On the other hand, Bracken hadn’t behaved like an innocent person. He’d probably only escaped questioning so far because the gargoyles would never fit into that cave, let alone spot his hiding place. For all I knew, the elves could also use glamour like fairies could. I’d never asked.