Witch Way Box Set Page 5

  "This is going to be fun!" Jenna examined the board, a smile on her face.

  "Promise me you won't leak any of this? I know it's an epic story, and god knows you're a brilliant journalist..."

  Jenna signaled locking her lips and tossing away the key. "I promise I won't breathe a word. Providing, of course, I get to break the story when we catch the murderer."

  "Well duh, of course you do."

  We were interrupted by a flash of light and a puff of smoke and an elf appeared, waving his arms to dispel the smoke. "Damn it, Magdalene said she'd fixed that," he grumbled, straightening his bow tie and smoothing his hair.

  "Harper Jones?" He narrowed his eyes at me and I glanced from him to Monica, then Jenna. What was going on here?

  "Yes?" I eventually answered since it was apparent he wasn't going to speak until I confirmed my identity. He handed me an envelope, bowed from the waist, then strode out of the store muttering all the way that he was going to have it out with Magdalene and the teleport system that was supposedly fixed.

  Chapter Six

  "What is it?" Monica peered at the envelope that had my name emblazoned on the front in a flowing gold font that glowed and sparkled on the paper. "And who was that?"

  "I think he's from Drixworths," Jenna supplied. "And that"—she nodded at the envelope—"is about your license."

  "Oh." Monica leaned back as if the envelope was toxic.

  Turning the envelope over in my hands, I saw the green wax seal on the back with the Drixworths emblem stamped into it. "It is," I whispered, my heart thundering in my chest, anxiety sweeping through me. This was it. This was my further instruction. This would tell me if my magic license was gone forever. My hands started to shake. "I can't do it." Shoving the envelope into my bag, I pulled the map down over the crime board to hide it before turning to Monica and Jenna who were looking at me with their mouths open.

  "What?" I said defensively. "I'll look at it later, okay?"

  "Harper," they said in unison.

  Then Jenna added, "You should go home. Read it with your Gran. She'll know what to do."

  "Yeah." Monica nodded. "We can go check on Jenna's plant and let you know what we find. You go home."

  "But…"

  "Go!" Again in unison and both of them pointing at the front door. Kicked out of my own store, I sullenly trudged outside, waiting for the two of them to join me.

  "I've got work in an hour," Monica said once we were all outside and I was locking the door, "We've gotta make this quick." It was dark out and bitterly cold. I could feel it creeping up my legs, making me shiver.

  "Plenty of time," Jenna replied, then wrapped me in her arms and squeezed me tight.

  Monica joined in the embrace, wrapping her arms around me from behind. "I hope it's good news," she whispered in my ear, then the two of them headed off, leaving me standing on the sidewalk feeling numb. I must have climbed into my car and driven home, for the next thing I knew I was standing in Gran's kitchen with no idea how I'd gotten there.

  "It arrived then?" Gran bustled into the kitchen and I quickly covered my eyes with my hand.

  "Gran!" I squeaked, "For god's sake, cover up, will you!"

  "What?" she protested. "It’s a negligee, Harper, nothing wrong with that." I could feel her moving nearby, heard her fart and shook my head in resignation. Her negligee was red, lacy, and see-through. I'd seen more than my eyeballs could stand.

  "You could have at least put panties on," I muttered, and she snorted.

  "Why? I'll just be taking them off as soon as Derek arrives."

  "Who the hell is Derek?" I dropped my hand from my eyes and stared at her, hard, keeping my eyes pinned to her face. "Your boyfriend?"

  "One of them," she answered unapologetically, then seeing my face threw her hands up in the air. "Okay, fine." She waved her wand—I did not want to think where she'd been keeping it— and was soon wrapped head to toe in a fluffy purple dressing gown. "Geez, I don't remember you being this prudish," she grumbled.

  "Who is Derek?" I repeated, not appeased in the slightest.

  "Open the envelope," she demanded. We locked eyes, and I knew I was going to lose this battle.

  "Fine!" I snapped, slapping the envelope on the kitchen table before taking a seat.

  Gran didn't gloat, just sat in the chair opposite me and waited. She looked from me to the envelope and back again. "Well? Get to it. I'm not getting any younger here."

  Picking it up, I tore open the seal and unfolded the parchment inside. I quickly scanned the words, then looked up at Gran, a smile tugging at my lips.

  "What's it say?" she barked.

  "That I’m to undergo a refresher course at Drixworths and then they will reassess my license."

  "Well, that's good news," Gran said, then stood, hustling out of the kitchen without another word. I conference called Monica and Jenna with the news.

  "That is fantastic." I could hear the joy in Jenna's voice, knew she was happy for me.

  "It's a weight off my shoulders, that's for sure," I agreed. "Now tell me, how did it go on your end? Is your borrio bud plant intact?”

  "It's not," Monica cut in. "Some low life has stolen the entire thing!"

  "The whole plant is gone?" I gasped.

  "Afraid so." Jenna sounded awful, on the verge of tears. "I don't understand how the killer could have known about it. And to steal the whole plant? That could kill a lot of people."

  "This is not your fault," I reassured her. "You weren't growing it for nefarious reasons. But someone found out about it, that's for sure."

  "I've gotta get to work, babes," Monica said apologetically. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. In the meantime, I'll keep my ear out at Brewed Awakening, see if anyone lets anything slip."

  After Monica disconnected, Jenna sniffed into the phone, "I swear I didn't tell anyone about the borrio bud, Harper."

  "I know you didn't," I assured her. "You're far too careful for that. Does anyone have access to the greenhouse?"

  "No. But it's not under lock and key or anything. It's just in my back garden, so anyone could have snuck in."

  "Look, I'll call Jackson. In the meantime, you think about anyone who may have known you had a borrio bud plant in your greenhouse. You say only the Fae community know about it? Was there anyone specifically who knew, for sure? Maybe they let slip unintentionally?"

  I called and left another message on Jackson's cell phone, asking him to call me. I’d left one the night before, but since he hadn’t called I wondered if he hadn’t received it, so left another. Then I got ready for my first class at Drixworths.

  Parking in the lot outside, I looked at the towering mansion in front of me. This was not Hogwarts, that's for sure, but having said that, this wasn't Drixworths Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry's head office. That was in East Dondure and I was kicking myself that I'd never bothered to visit, not once, during my time in the city. The building before me now was merely Whitefall Cove's branch of Drixworths, and even then it was epically spectacular.

  Walking up the front path, I could feel the magic swirling around me and getting stronger with each step toward the massive front doors. I thought I was alone, my feet the only footsteps crunching on the gravel path until suddenly there was a hoard of witches practically stampeding toward the door, looming up behind me and jostling me as they pushed past, excited and eager to get inside. I followed more sedately, acknowledging to myself that it was slightly humiliating to be attending class at my age, but if this was what it took to get my license back, I'd suck it up and get on with it.

  "Ms. Jones." I was greeted at the door by the same elf who'd appeared in my bookstore last night. "The headmistress would like to see you before class. This way, please."

  I followed him. He was all of three feet tall and wobbled from side to side as he walked. He vetoed the massive staircase dominating the entrance for a hallway running parallel to it. We passed dozens of closed doors before coming to one at the rear o
f the building. Etched on the frosted glass pane was the name Esmerelda Higginbottom, Headmistress. With a light knock, he swung the door open and ushered me inside.

  "Harper." Esmeralda Higginbottom did not live up to her name. I'd expected a grizzled old witch with grey hair and a wart on her nose. In front of me stood a svelte redhead, with flawless skin, and the shine on her hair had me green with envy.

  Remembering my manners, I stepped forward with my hand outstretched. "Harper Jones, pleased to meet you, Ms. Higginbottom."

  The gentle tinkling sound of her laugh was as divine as her beauty. "Please, call me Izzy. My parents lumbered me with a god-awful name and you know what it's like, a nightmare to try and get it changed." She shook my hand and then indicated the chair in front of her desk. "I won't keep you long. Please, have a seat." She waited until I was seated before she resumed her own, lowering herself so gracefully onto her chair it seemed as if she was liquid.

  She smiled. "I'm delighted head office has agreed to give you a second chance," she began, tilting her head as she talked. "I've reviewed your case myself and I don't believe your actions were intentionally malicious. Purely an unguided, unintended reaction to the circumstances you found yourself in."

  My lips thinned into a straight line at the reminder, but I nodded, knowing better than to interrupt.

  "That being said, you do need to retain control at all times. Your magic will be made available to you on a temporary basis while on the Drixworth premises, but once you set foot outside, you will lose it again. Also, you have been assigned a familiar. This is non-negotiable and permanent. Your familiar will help control your magic and should you lose control of your powers, he can intercept for you."

  Having a familiar meant having a creature tied to me for the rest of my life and, while I had nothing against it per se, it wasn't something I'd ever considered in the past, but again, if that was what Drixworths wanted, then I'd happily accept a familiar.

  "Meet Archie." A striped ginger cat jumped down from the windowsill with a meow and padded across the floor toward me, his big round eyes golden.

  "Archie, huh?" I murmured, reaching my hand down to the feline who was now sniffing my feet and rubbing himself around my ankles with a purr. "Aren’t you the handsome one?"

  He jumped onto my lap with a meow, turned in a circle, then settled in for a nap. "Archie it is then." I smiled, already finding his presence comforting. I stroked his fur as Izzy continued talking.

  "I'll keep a close eye on your progress and when I think you're ready, you'll sit an exam. Pass it and your witch’s license will be returned. Fail, and"—she paused—"let's just say we will have to reassess at that point." There was a thread of steel in her voice, a hidden warning behind her words. I got the sense if I failed that exam, she would take it personally and would not be pleased.

  "Bring Archie with you to every class," she instructed. "It is important he knows your strengths and limitations with magic."

  "I will. Thank you."

  "You can go." She dismissed me with a wave of her hand and turned her attention to a pile of papers stacked on her desk. With a click of her fingers, her pen began to sign them.

  Scooping Archie into my arms, I cuddled him to my chest. "Come on, Archie, let's go."

  The elf was waiting for me outside and guided me back along the hallway, up the grand staircase to a classroom on the left.

  "Nice of you to finally join us, Ms. Jones." Another stunningly beautiful witch stood at the head of the class, her supermodel beauty hard to look away from. I felt positively frumpy in comparison and wondered if the witches at Drixworths were spelled to appear more attractive than they were.

  "A fine observation," the witch said, pointing to a table at the front. Great. Front of the class like a naughty child. I heard sniggers from my classmates as I made my way down the center aisle and slid into the seat indicated. Archie curled himself back onto my lap and promptly returned to his slumber.

  "Let me recap for the tardy Ms. Jones," the witch said, and I wanted to argue that it was hardly my fault I was late—I was in a meeting with the headmistress—but bit my lip and stayed silent. These people were assessing me, deciding if I was worthy of my witch’s license. It would not bode well for me if I was argumentative on day one, but who knew what tomorrow would bring?

  "My name is Phyllis. I'll be teaching you basic spell casting and harnessing the magic of your wand. Since the rest of the class has already introduced themselves, I'll save them the bother from having to do it again. Everyone, this is Harper Jones. Let her be an example of what not to do. She's here because she had her witch’s license suspended."

  I glared at Phyllis, anger making my cheeks flush, but I kept silent even as sniggers and whispers filled my ears. She'd done it on purpose, and I was determined not to rise to the bait. The whole town of Whitefall Cove knew what had happened, it wasn't a surprise to anyone in this room, so I saw no reason why Phyllis was rubbing it in, other than to get me to snap. I was determined not to.

  "And as Harper observed upon entering this room, my appearance is very much affected by magic." With a wave of her wand, she changed before our eyes from a stunning supermodel to a rather ordinary woman, a little plumpish, with mousy brown hair. "I was using an enhancement spell."

  Hands shot up around the room and I could predict what the questions would be. They all wanted to learn the spell so they could get around looking like supermodels. What they didn't realize was that such a spell drained your magic, you couldn't maintain it for long periods of time, and as a witch new to your powers, you could probably hold it for a minute or two, tops.

  "Correct again, Harper." Phyllis nodded at me in approval.

  "You're a mind reader," I said. So, she'd have heard my internal monologue on keeping my temper, not letting her rile me.

  "Correct on both counts. And before you ask—no, this is not what it's going to be like the entire time you're here." Addressing the rest of the class she instructed, "Turn to chapter one of your spell books."

  There was no spell book on my desk. I glanced around, everyone else was flipping to the relevant page. "Here." The girl at the desk next to me handed me a spell book. "Some of the others thought it would be funny to hide yours. I took it for safekeeping. I figure this is hard enough for you without them playing tricks."

  I accepted the book and smiled. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

  "I'm Alayna Temple." She reached out her hand and I shook it.

  "Hi, Alayna. I'm Harper. This is Archie." I indicated the orange fur ball asleep on my lap.

  "Cool, you have a familiar!" She leaned over and scratched the top of Archie's head. He cracked open one eye, looked at Alayna, purred, and closed his eye again.

  "A necessity, it seems." I shrugged. "I take it you're a first year?"

  "I am. " She nodded enthusiastically, and I knew then and there that Alayna Temple was not only a good person, but she was going to make an awesome witch.

  "You have a raw talent." Phyllis, our instructor, appeared at my shoulder.

  "Oh?"

  "You can read people and situations."

  "Yeah well, I didn't read a certain person in East Dondure very well," I muttered. Simon’s betrayal had come as a complete surprise to me.

  "Oh, I think you knew, you just didn't want to know. So, you ignored what was in front of you until it became impossible to ignore. It's my job to train you to trust your instincts. You have good, strong magic, Harper. You've got to put your faith in it, believe in it, and it won't steer you wrong."

  Phyllis moved to the front of the class again and clapped her hands. An apple appeared on each of our desks. "Right, witches and wizards," Phyllis said, smiling, "today we are going to make this apple look like a banana. We are not going to change it into a banana, we are going to glamour it, so it simply looks like one. Wands ready? And begin!"

  It was good to feel magic in my wand again, feel the power tingle where my fingers wrapped around it. With a tap of my wand
on the apple, it immediately took on the appearance of a banana as requested. Of course, it was easy for me. I'd done all of this before, and I questioned whether putting me in a beginner class was of much benefit.

  Phyllis must have read my mind again, because she leaned down and said into my ear, "It's for their benefit, not yours. Today you are to be paraded as an example of what not to do. I'm sorry, I know that feels rough. But after this class, you'll be in an advanced group or one on one tuition."

  As the class went through the basics, I thought on what Phyllis had told me, that I had talents in reading people. It wasn't a skill I'd ever considered having before, but now I couldn't help but think how handy it would be to catch a murderer. I didn't miss the sly grin Phyllis threw my way as she helped a student who had managed to smash her apple into a messy pulp on her desk. This could be very helpful indeed.

  Chapter Seven

  Jackson was waiting out front of Drixworths when classes dismissed at lunchtime. Cradling Archie to my chest, I ambled down the gravel path to where he was leaning against his car, feet crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest. Seeing me, he pushed into an upright position and waited.

  "I've been calling you," he said in way of a greeting and my eyes widened in surprise.

  "You have? My phone didn't ring." I tried to hold Archie with one hand and dig around in my bag for my phone with the other, but it was useless.

  Seeing my struggle, Jackson reached across and plucked Archie from my arms. "Here. I'll take the cat."

  "His name is Archie," I told him, retrieving my phone from my bag. Sure enough, three missed calls from Jackson. "That's odd. I'm sorry, I wasn't ignoring you. It didn't ring, I swear."

  He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. So you said you had news? Big news?"

  "Yes!" I took Archie back and told him about the borrio bud plant that Jenna had been cultivating in her greenhouse and how it was now missing.

  "So we might possibly have the murder weapon," he mused, running his hand around the back of his neck as he pondered on what I told him. "Where did Jenna get the plant from? Did she purchase it? Buy seeds?"