Dead witch in the librar.., p.34
Dead Witch in the Library, page 34
I let that sink in. “So… she’s the same.”
“So far as I can tell.”
We both laughed. “That’s kind of comforting,” I said. “That means Morris didn’t ruin her life. She’s always done what she wanted. She’s who she is, making her own choices.”
“I guess. I’d rather not ever see her again, if that’s okay with you,” Seth said. “The days I spent in her company were some of the most unpleasant of my life.”
To my surprise, I felt an urge to defend my old not-friend. “Really? That bad?”
“She’s the most witchy witch I’ve ever met.” He looked over at me. “I forget how different you are from full-blood witches. That demon ancestry makes a big difference.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. We were driving over the bridge now, giving us a fogged-in view of the cities around the bay—Richmond, Oakland, San Francisco. The Marin Headlands to the north were dark and ominous.
“Wait,” I said, belatedly remembering the new Protector in Silverpool. “Is it safe for us to go home?”
“We’ll find out.”
“Maybe we should get a motel room…” I began to say, but the idea didn’t feel right. If witches were coming after me, my best chances of survival were at home where my power was strongest.
“I have a feeling everything will be okay,” Seth said.
I looked at him. Could he see the future? Did he already know everything I’d been through tonight? “You haven’t asked me who Hal is or why he would kill people or who his accomplice was, or anything. Aren’t you curious?”
He gestured ahead of us. “I told you to wait until we were over the bridge,” he said. “It’s safer that way. Don’t you remember?”
“How I almost killed you here?”
“You never came close to killing me.” He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it. “That’s why I thought you were so cute.”
He was warming me up even better than the car heater. I pulled my hand away so I could focus. “Why wait until we’re over the bridge?”
He didn’t answer until the bay was behind us and we were driving through the quiet, mountainous darkness. It comforted me to know we were heading north.
“Roll down the window and take a deep breath,” he said.
I did as he said. Cold, damp air carrying the scent of eucalyptus filled my lungs. My thoughts cleared. Tension drained out of me.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Yeah. A little.” The magical hangover was easing. I didn’t hear the metal-music ringing in my ears anymore. “It’s better.”
Seth reached into the back seat and handed me an insulated bottle. “There’s peppermint tea in there. I made it myself, so don’t worry about Helen. And if you reach under the seat, you’ll find a few cookies. Helen let me use her oven.”
I hugged the bottle and the bundle of folded cloth to my chest. “So you were just waiting until I felt better before asking me to explain everything?”
He ruffled my hair. “Yep. I’m amazing that way,” he said. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t kill me?”
Chapter
Fifty-Seven
“Well, it was Hal…” I began, but for some strange reason I found myself unable to go on. My throat was too tight. I felt as if I was going to cry. The body that had been invincible in the ballroom was now breaking down from shock.
“Drink some of that tea, hon,” he said.
I’d forgotten about the bottle. My cramped, unsteady fingers struggled to open the cap until Seth reached over and did something to loosen it.
“Now drink,” he continued.
I smelled not only mint but lavender and honey. There was magic, too, but not Helen’s. Something fae.
Although I spilled some down my dress, I managed to gulp down a few large swallows. Several moments later, my shaking eased. A deep calm came over me.
“This is your recipe,” I said, recognizing his fairy touch.
“Feeling a little better?”
I was. For the first time, I took a breath that reached the bottom of my lungs. “Yes, thanks. I think I can go on now.”
“You can tell me the story later,” he said. “I can wait.”
“No, I’ll feel better to tell it all to you now,” I said.
“Sure. I’m all ears.”
After another deep breath, I continued. “So. Hal was behind everything. He was the witch living in the public library, the one engaged to Luana, the Protectorate librarian. He wanted the emerald behind the curse.” I sipped the tea and felt its magic blanket me again. “He got a young Flint to do the murdering and stealing, but he was the mastermind.”
“Is he dead now? Are you going to get another tattoo on your arm?” His tone was light, but I knew he was concerned. Killing people put me in a bad mood for weeks even if it was self-defense.
“No, he’s in custody. Let me start at the beginning. Fifty years ago…”
“That long?”
“Actually, we need to go back to the late 1800s when they were building Golden Gate Park. It was dunes back then, and there was a landscaper—”
“We really have to go back that far?” Seth asked.
“You’re fae,” I said. “You should know how long these lifetimes are better than I do.”
“Sorry. Go on.”
“Thanks,” I said, wondering if I was going to have to repeat this identical conversation as soon as Raynor caught up with me. “You know what, I’m going to record this so I only have to do it once.” I took out my phone from one of the inside pockets that had survived the journey up the chimney.
“I’ll minimize my unnecessary interjections,” Seth said.
Patting his knee, I began the recording. “So, there was a gnome living in the dunes that became Golden Gate Park. Some humans came in and planted a ton of trees. One of those was Morris White’s great-grandfather, then a young man who’d come out from the East Coast. As the oldest dude in his generation, he’d inherited the name Morris as well as the family heirloom, a large emerald they called the Greenstone.”
“Creative,” Seth murmured.
I paused to sip the peppermint tea and compose my thoughts. What would the Morris White of a century and a half ago think of his descendant? Instead of manipulating people, Great-Grandpa Morris had nurtured oak, cypress, eucalyptus, and tea trees. No wonder Doon had liked him.
“Grandpa Morris met one of the gnomes and named him Doon. They hit it off. Grandpa planted an oak tree for him, and Doon supercharged the emerald with gnome power in thanks.” I said. “Doon is still in the same tree today. It’s next to the museum. Anyway, about fifty years ago, our Morris White visited Golden Gate Park with the same stone in his pocket, and Doon mistook him for his great-grandfather.”
“The fae can’t grasp how short human lives are,” Seth said.
“Exactly. Anyway, Doon was really grateful for the big tree he’d enjoyed for a hundred years, so he wanted to repay his debt. He saw the emerald had lost the enhancements from a century earlier, so he recharged it.”
“Oops,” Seth mumbled.
I made a face and went on. “This was about fifty years ago. Morris was a trainee agent here under Luana, who was a Quartz-level then. He used the new, stronger emerald to put a spell on her that completely changed her personality—instead of an aggressive, ambitious agent, she became a reclusive librarian. Her emotions were throttled in general. Until just recently.”
Seth mumbled something unpleasant that I agreed with.
“A few months ago, her cat got sick,” I said. “Even with the hex on her emotional state, she’d gotten attached to her pet.”
“Even the coldest people melt under a purring fur ball,” Seth said.
I reached back to push the dog tongue out of my ear, not feeling particularly melted by Fergus’s attentions that second. “Anyway, she went to the park to research herbal remedies in the special library they’ve got there in the botanical gardens, then went looking in the park to collect the plants. At that point she’d had that curse on her for decades and she didn’t even know it was there. It had changed the entire course of her life.” My throat tightened, imagining how close she’d come to living a free-hearted life. “While she was there picking leaves and berries and roots or whatever, Doon sensed her. He felt his own magic working inside her. Because of his big gnome heart, he cared enough to feel guilty—and showed her proof of it inside her. He gave her the choice to break the spell on herself. And she agreed.”
“Brave,” Seth said.
Even without a murderer about to pounce on her, she’d need bravery to face her own heart. “With the spell broken, Luana’s personality changed. She became more sentimental. The herbs for the cat didn’t work, and unfortunately he died. Grieving, she created a memorial apparition that was so strong I met it myself. That’s not something a cold, unemotional witch would bother with. She also invited Helen to tea, for no apparent reason other than chatting about birds. And finally, worst of all, she got engaged to a local man, another library-dweller, the witch Hal.”
“Ah,” Seth whispered.
I let out a long sigh and looked out the window. What an evil heart he must have; there was no curse on him to excuse what he’d done. “She must’ve told him everything. The gnome, Morris White, the emerald, how he’d changed her,” I said. “Morris was a big name in the witch world, and Hal realized why. The emerald. He wanted it for himself. In the end, three witches died because of his greed.”
“Three?”
“Luana, Morris, and his accomplice, Kora. She was a Flint agent inside the Diamond Street office,” I said. “I don’t even know her last name, but she worked the front desk. Security detail. Hal was an expert at stealth magic, but more than that, he was a vampire. The witch kind, sucking energy. He taught her his tricks, and she used them to kill Luana, then Morris, without leaving any traces. Luana and Morris were both old enough to have underlying conditions triggered by the shock of being sucked dry like that. Draining energy isn’t actually a spell, so it didn’t turn up in the usual scans. And part of the security team, Kora could’ve erased any traces she did leave behind. And later, when she was actually put on duty at the vault, stealing the emerald was easy. I don’t know what he promised her, but he killed her tonight and took it from her.”
“Are you the one who found her?” he asked gently.
I cleared my throat. Feeling vulnerable, I turned off the recording. In the peaceful, quiet car, the memory of her dead body was more painful than it had been at the time. “She was really young, Seth. She looked like a middle schooler.” The emotion I’d been suppressing was starting to break free inside me. “I know she’d k-killed people, but I still feel b-bad—”
Without warning, I broke out into tears. After I cried for a few minutes, Seth patted my leg.
“You softie,” he said.
I found a tissue and blew my nose, angry at myself for losing it. “I can’t believe I’m crying for her. She killed two people and tried to frame me. She planted something with my prints inside the vault.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
The image of Kora’s dead face kept flashing before me. I took a deep breath and looked out the window at the dark sky. “He seemed to have drained her the way he’d drained the others,” I said. “I never knew a vampire could actually kill somebody so young. Morris and Luana were older.”
“Maybe he’d already learned how to use the emerald to enhance his power,” Seth said. “It’s good you crushed the sucker.”
I smiled weakly. He was right. If Hal had possessed the emerald for longer, he might’ve gotten too strong to ever find again. “Anyway, that’s it. I captured Hal in the ballroom, gave him to Raynor, and then I ran away before the Protectorate agents could lock me up for another interrogation.”
“I get the feeling there was more to it than that.”
“To catch him, I had to use a lot of power,” I said. “More than I’ve used before. It… It was scary. I-I think… Sometimes I don’t feel, you know, normal—”
“Hey, have one of those cookies,” he said, reaching over to unwrap the cloth package in my lap. “You haven’t touched them yet.”
They did smell good. I’d thought the stress had killed my appetite for tonight.
Seth picked one up and brought it toward my mouth. “Go on.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking it from him and taking a bite. It was delicious, soft and spicy. Chewy pieces of dried ginger caught on my teeth. “Still warm.”
Yet another perk of having a fae boyfriend. Warm cookies on demand. I rested my head back against the seat, too tired to push Fergus and his tongue away again. A moment later I realized I was one breath away from losing consciousness.
I might have had the power to control almost two hundred of the most powerful witches on the planet, but if my changeling boyfriend thought it was time for me to take a nap…
Muffled, as though he was underwater, I heard Seth say, “Sweet dreams.”
Chapter
Fifty-Eight
I slept for over thirty hours. But because my trusty bedside clock told me it was the sensible hour of eight in the morning when I awoke, I didn’t realize I’d lost an entire day. I thought I deserved a break and so let myself stay in bed, in my pajamas, cuddling my loving dogs and eating more baked goods Seth brought me. It had finally been Raynor (true to character) who burst my bubble of happiness with a hexed phone call. The type that bricks your phone if you don’t answer.
“Hello,” I drawled, sinking into the bed and rolling my eyes like a teenager. At least he’d called instead of sending motorcycle agents to the house.
“I gave you a day and a half. You think you’re too powerful to follow basic protocol, is that it?”
That’s when I belatedly suspected Seth had hidden the truth. “What’s today?”
“Sunday. You’re pretending you didn’t know?”
“I didn’t know,” I said, jerking upright, my pulse accelerating. “I just woke up.”
That explained how there had been time for Birdie to bring Random back to the house and for Seth to collect fresh apples.
“I heard Protector Cathy knows you’re in Silverpool right now,” Raynor said. “I thought you were going to stay out of town.”
I jumped out of bed. “She does? Did she—” I ran over to the window and looked outside, half expecting to see an army of agents surrounding the house. “What’s she going to do to us?”
“I’m curious to find out,” Raynor said.
“That’s it? You’re curious?”
“You should’ve come to Diamond Street instead of running away. I might’ve had a better chance of protecting you. But now you’re on her turf. You’re on your own.”
I swallowed hard. Just a few minutes ago, I’d been relaxed. Now I was back in emergency mode. “I was afraid you’d arrest me if I stayed in San Francisco.”
“I should have,” he said. “If just for your own good.”
“Everything I did was… was necessary at the time. I did the best I could do under the circumstances, especially after I found Kora’s body,” I said.
Raynor paused. “There might still be time for you to run for it,” he said finally. “With that power you can command these days, you could probably blast out of the town’s boundary and make it out of the country. I won’t be able to help, but…”
Heart pounding, I listened to his voice trail off. “But what?”
“I’m on your side philosophically.”
“Phili-what?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
“I support your right to have a free and independent life with the partner you’ve chosen.”
“Philosophically,” I said. “But not with, like, amulets and spells and legal support.”
“I gave you two copper rings,” he said, “and I’m adding a big bonus to your paycheck for this last assignment. Generous of me considering you destroyed a priceless gemstone. I figured that rock could’ve covered operational expenses for the entire West Coast for three and a half years.”
“It was too dangerous.”
He grunted but didn’t argue. In spite of his griping, he was probably relieved it was gone.
“I’m not going to run away,” I said, staring out the window at my cozy forest home.
He let out a long exhale. “I figured,” he said. “By the way, Isadora extracted something of hers from the crazy old bat next door. She said your magical fingerprints were on it. Some kind of book of hers.”
My stomach tensed. Was I going to have Isadora after me too? “Is she angry?”
“She was grateful you hadn’t taken it for yourself, actually, and asked me to thank you,” he said, snorting. “She clearly doesn’t remember what happened in the ballroom. She did notice, though, that you’d used magic on one of the pictures. She told me this long story about how there’d been this librarian once that she’d never liked so she’d erased her face. You did something to it?”
I was too surprised to answer right away. “It was Isadora who’d touched up that photo?”
“The weird thing about that turret spell is how it messes up people’s memories,” he said. “Today Isadora kept looking at the photo, wondering why she could never remember the librarian’s name even though she’d disliked her so much.”
“Does she remember why she disliked her?” I asked.
“Something about not allowing drinks in the library.”
I shook my head. It was always the little things. “I better go,” I said.
“Either way, we’ll talk soon. If Cathy doesn’t catch you, I will.” He cleared his throat. “Good luck. I estimate you have less than four minutes.”
He ended the call before I did. While I rushed to get into jeans and a hoodie, Seth appeared in the doorway but avoided meeting my gaze.
I strode to the doorway and pointed a finger at the middle of his forehead, giving me a flashback to the moment when I’d drawn a bloody X on Hal’s forehead. “You messed with my phone.”
He bowed his head, looking truly chagrined. “You needed to sle—”
