The Affairs of Witches Read online

Page 3


  Marian, Kressida, and Celeste all swiveled their necks to look at me. They were lounging in one of the sitting areas, the younger two women curled up in comfortable brown armchairs looking at tablets, and Marian stretched out on a chaise lounge, holding a book.

  “Hi!” Celeste put her tablet aside and bounced up, hurrying over to greet me. “How are you?”

  “Fine, thanks. I just thought I’d come by and make sure you’re comfortable.” I winced at my own words as soon as they were out of my mouth. There were very few places that would be as comfortable as this penthouse.

  But Marian piped up from her spot. “It’s too chilly in here, and I can’t seem to get the hotel staff to adjust our thermostat.”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry to hear that.” The room felt perfectly comfortable to me, but I knew people sometimes felt the cold more as they got older. Aunt Dru always wore a thin sweater and linen capris pants, even when I was in a halter top and shorts. “I’ll have a talk with Liza on my way out and see if I can do anything.” I didn’t really know Liza and had very little hope I could influence her, but it was better than saying nothing. If I was going to get onto Marian’s good side—and I was quite sure I’d rather be there than anywhere near her bad side—I’d be willing to do some cajoling of the hotel staff.

  Out of nowhere, Pence brushed past me, heading toward Marian, with a blue blanket in his hand. He arranged it over the Crone’s legs, on top of a brown blanket already resting there. She didn’t acknowledge her Guard’s careful ministrations but moved her elbows so he could tuck in the comforter more. “What are you doing here, anyway?” she croaked. “Where’s Druida?”

  “She’s at home. She doesn’t know I’m here.”

  Celeste grabbed my hand and pulled me into the sitting area, giving me a gentle nudge onto the sofa next to Kressida’s chair. Celeste sat beside me and slapped her thighs eagerly. “Superior Bay is so pretty. I keep looking out at that amazing water, just wanting to be out there. Do you sail?”

  I shook my head. “No, but my friend Crosby has done some. I’m more of a beach girl than a water girl. You know, lying around in the sand, maybe playing Frisbee.” I shrugged. “But the weather’s turning now. There won’t be many nice beach days left before fall really hits.”

  Celeste’s face fell. “That’s too bad. Griffin!” she called over my shoulder.

  Almost immediately, the young Guard appeared. “Yes, Key?”

  “Can you do some calling around, please? Find out if there are any charter sailboats in the area. I’d like to get out there while we’re here. Seems like a waste to miss the opportunity.”

  “Yes.” He pulled out a cell phone and turning his attention to tapping at the screen. A moment later, he was murmuring into the phone.

  Celeste leaned back on the sofa, looking happy. “Kressida, do you want to go sailing too?”

  The auburn-haired woman shook her head. “I think I’ll pass on that. Too much excitement for me. But I’d love to peruse the little shops along the boardwalk. There’s just nothing like those tiny mom-and-pop stores along the beach in small towns like this. You can find some unique stuff in there.”

  Marian snorted. “Like you need more stuff. Your room back home is crammed with antique brick-a-brack and little strange whatsits.”

  Kressida didn’t bristle like I would have. Instead, she smiled warmly at the Crone, reaching over to adjust the blue blanket to cover more of the older woman’s side. “I know. I have too much, and it’s no fun on dusting day. Aren’t I just a silly woman?”

  Marian harrumphed.

  “There’s no sailing today,” Griffin called from across the vast room. “I signed the two of us up for a charter tomorrow at one in the afternoon. I can cancel if you’ve changed your mind by then.”

  Celeste clapped and bounced. “I won’t change my mind. Thank you, Griffin.”

  The dark-haired man nodded and retreated to a chair in the corner to scroll on his phone.

  I hadn’t seen Kressida’s Guard, Baxter, but the relationships between the women and men intrigued me. It appeared the Guards lived only to help the women, never too far away if one of the Trio needed something.

  “So, I expect you’re here because you want to know more about why we’re here.” Marian ran a hand through her short hair and pinned me with a hard look. “Your aunt seems to have neglected your education where the Trio is concerned.”

  I wanted to defend Aunt Dru but realized there was nothing I could say. She hadn’t told me anything about this witch’s council, including that they’d be coming to judge me at some point. I felt a twinge of betrayal. It seemed like such an important thing to keep from me.

  “Well, anyway.” Marian waved a hand. “We’re here to make sure you’ll be safe with your powers. You’re strong, you know. But your knowledge and execution are weak.” She shook her head. “You should have been practicing for the past three decades. I don’t understand how Druida could have let you just trounce around perusing human goals instead of making you hone your magical powers. It’s a travesty, really.”

  No matter how badly I felt over my aunt not telling me about the Trio, I couldn’t listen to anyone badmouth her for long. “Aunt Dru let me follow my own course in life. She didn’t believe in making me do anything. It took me a while to develop an in interest in magical training. But I’m interested now. I’ll just go from here.”

  “That’s reasonable,” Celeste piped up. “I wish I’d been able to choose.” Her tone was wistful.

  “You’re the third most powerful witch in the western hemisphere,” Marian snapped. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. And you.” She pointed a bony finger at my face. “I’m not convinced you aren’t too dangerous to allow full power. In fact, I think I’ll need to be convinced that you’re not. And, if you can’t convince me, then we’ll strip you of those pesky powers altogether. You can just go on with your human pursuits like you wanted, then.” She pulled off the blankets and threw her legs over the side of the chaise. “I need to use the restroom.”

  Pence was there in an instant, taking the Crone’s arm and helping her up. He steadied her as she walked across the marble floor, and the two disappeared through a doorway.

  Kressida’s eyes were on the empty doorway when she spoke. “Don’t worry about her. She’s old and grumpy. It comes with being Crone.” Her eyes flitted to me, and she smiled. “The Key and I will temper her responses. Won’t we, Celeste, dear?”

  “Yep. We always do.” Celeste picked at invisible lint on the sofa. “Mean old woman,” she muttered under her breath.

  Kressida clucked her tongue. “Don’t speak ill,” she admonished. “One day, you may be Crone, and then you’ll be a grump too.”

  “Ugh, I hope I’m never Crone.” Celeste stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. She looked like a petulant teenager.

  “Well, maybe you won’t have to be. And if you do, hopefully, it won’t be for a while. I’m ahead of you, you know.” The corners of Kressida’s lips turned upward a fraction.

  “Then I’ll be the Crux in your stead,” Celeste said. “And I know you won’t be a grumpy Crone. You’re too nice to be a crabapple.”

  “Don’t be so sure. The weight of being the Crone changes people. I remember when Marian was the Crux. Her attitude was much brighter then.” Kressida’s expression turned faraway for a moment. Then it cleared, and she focused on me. “Yes, Celeste and I will do what we can to keep the Crone even-keeled for you, but you must do your part.”

  “I will.” I wrinkled my nose. “Wait, what’s my part?”

  “Don’t be dangerous.” Celeste laughed.

  Kressida chuckled too. “Right. You need to show us you have control over your considerable power. And that you know when to use it and when not to.”

  “Good judgement. Got it. I can do that.”

  “Excuse me for a moment, please. I need some chap stick.” Kressida hurried away.

  Celeste grinned at me. “It’s cool you’re a veterinarian.
Do you like it?”

  “Yes. I love it.”

  “I bet. Pets are so wonderful. Better than people, a lot of times. Tell me more about your job.”

  She looked so eager I couldn’t resist. I told her a couple of funny stories, and when Kressida returned, she listened raptly too.

  After the fourth story, I felt uncomfortable. All the coffee I’d had that morning was suddenly front-and-center. “Is it okay if I use the restroom?”

  “Of course! There’s a guest bathroom right through there.” She pointed at the door Pence and Marian had disappeared through earlier. Pence was back in the main room, looking at a newspaper at a small table. I hurried past him and through the indicated doorway, which dumped me into a short hall that held two doors. The first, on my left, was closed tightly. The second, at the end of the corridor, was slightly ajar.

  I hesitated for a moment, not sure which door to try, but ultimately decided the one that was slightly open was probably my best bet. I peeked through the crack cautiously before barging in.

  I could see the window in the bathroom was open, breeze blowing the curtain around a little. Boy, the Crone probably hadn’t liked that. She’d already felt chilly.

  I pushed on the door, but it thudded against something. I craned my neck to see what.

  An icy chill surged up my spine, exploding into my chest, where it seemed to grab my heart. I pushed the door open more, but it wouldn’t go all the way. It had run into Marian’s foot.

  “Help!” I called and squeezed through the crack in the door to drop next to Marian. I reached for her throat to check for a pulse, but her skin was cold, and my fingers brushed against an angry red line. The woman’s eyes were open and staring.

  Dimly, through a dull pounding in my ears, I heard people rushing down the hallway.

  Then Pence’s head appeared through the crack. He roared in anguish. “Get away from her!”

  I lunged backward until my back hit the toilet. “I just found her,” I stammered.

  The big Guard barreled his way in, scooped up Marian, and rocked her, sobs wracking his chest.

  My eyes lifted to meet Kressida’s. Her face was pale and her eyes wide.

  “She’s dead,” I whispered. “Call the police.”

  Chapter 4

  THE IRONY WASN’T LOST on me. I sat shivering in the main room of the penthouse when, only a short time ago, I’d thought Marian was a little crazy for thinking the room was cold.

  “Here. Wrap up in this.” Crosby picked up the Crone’s blue blanket and held it out to me.

  I shook my head, knowing it was illogical but still not wanting to use the item that had so recently wrapped around the now dead woman. “I’m okay,” I said.

  Crosby shrugged, dropped the blanket, and sat next to me on the couch.

  The paramedics had taken Marian’s body out on a stretcher under a sheet after the coroner pronounced her dead. I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there as police and medical people milled about the penthouse. At first, I’d tried to leave, thinking I’d rather sit downstairs in the lobby, but an officer I didn’t know had blocked the way and shook his head apologetically, gesturing that I needed to stay.

  Celeste had wailed when Kressida told her the Crone was dead . . . murdered by strangling. It had taken the Crux, her Guard, Baxter, and Celeste’s Guard, Griffin, to get her halfway calm. They’d finally whisked her back to one of the bedroom suites. I’d seen officers go in there, but none of the witches had come back out.

  “So. What’s the story here?” Crosby asked in a gentle tone.

  I shrugged. “I went to the bathroom and found Marian dead in there. I screamed for help and told Kressida—she’s the auburn-haired one who’s around middle age—to call the police. That’s all I know.”

  He shook his head. “I’m talking about the story before that. Why are you in this penthouse? Who are these people?”

  I met his gaze and tried to telepathically transmit information. A muscle next to his right eye twitched. He leaned close. “Does it have to do with you-know-what?”

  “Yeah. It does.” Internally, I gave myself a high-five for getting the point across to my best friend without words.

  “Okay. We’ll talk about it later, then. I’m going to need you to tell me everything you know.” He studied me closely, and I got the feeling he was wondering if I’d really do that.

  I felt a wave of sadness. Hiding that I was a witch from Crosby for so long, only for him to find out accidentally when he saw me work some magic, had done a number on the trust between us.

  “Yeah, of course. I’ll tell you all of it.”

  “There she is!”

  My head snapped up at the shout. From the doorway to the hallway leading to the bathroom where I’d found Marian, Pence stood, looking like a crazed animal, and pointed directly at me. “Arrest her, or I’ll handle the justice myself.” Spit flew out of his mouth as he shouted. His eyes were red-rimmed and shooting fury at me.

  I shrank back into the couch. Rarely in life does one face such unbridled hatred as the Guard was aiming at me.

  Pence took a few steps toward me. Crosby was on his feet in an instant, and in the next, he stood between me and the advancing man. Another officer grabbed Pence’s arm. “You must stay away from her, sir. You need to calm down and let us do our job.”

  “Calm down? When my mistress was murdered right under my nose by that . . . that . . . witch?” His mouth twisted into a snarl on the last word.

  Okay, well, that wasn’t the worst word he could have called me. I mean, I was a witch, and it was pretty awesome. “I didn’t murder Marian,” I said, finally finding my voice and my spine and rising to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Crosby.

  He tried to edge in front of me again, but I stood firm.

  “She was fine when I left her in the bathroom,” Pence insisted, running a hand through hair that already stood up wildly in all directions. “I should have never left her there. I just went down to get us both some coffee then came back and looked at the newspaper for a moment. I should have stayed and guarded her door.” He choked on the last word and rubbed his face. “It’s my fault.”

  I sent Crosby a beseeching look. “I just needed to use the bathroom. I found her already dead on the floor. I didn’t kill her.”

  Movement caught my eye, and I realized Kressida and a white-faced Celeste stood in a doorway to my right, watching the whole exchange. Celeste looked horrified, staring at me as though I were a fork-tongued, horned devil. “You killed our Crone?” Her voice was thin and soft. “How could you?”

  I shook my head. Her face and voice wrenched my heart. “I didn’t.” My tone much more helpless than I’d planned. “I swear it.”

  “But she’s the whole reason we’re in town.” Celeste’s voice was stronger now but just as anguished. “She’s the only one with motive to want Marian gone.”

  Crosby held up his hands. “Okay, we’re going to do a proper investigation, and everyone’s going to get to tell us their side. But there will not be any further shouting of accusations at each other across the room.” He gentled his voice and spoke to Celeste. “I know you must be in a lot of pain. I’m so sorry for your loss.” He turned to me. “Willow, you should go. I’ll come by the farm and question you about this later.”

  I nodded and moved toward the door, keeping an eye on Pence, who glowered at me but didn’t pounce like I’d feared he might.

  When I got out to the small alcove between the penthouse door and the elevator, I was surprised to find that Crosby had followed me. He shut the door behind him, leaving us alone. “Hey, listen. I wanted to tell you something before you go.”

  I rubbed my arms, finally starting to feel warm again. “What is it?”

  “They offered me a job down in Detroit. I’m thinking about taking it.”

  I was stunned, and not only at the sudden change of focus in topics. I never could have expected him saying that. Words wouldn’t come, so I just blinked at him.
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br />   “It’s a good job, with great benefits, and I’ll be able to experience things I’ll never see around here. There’s more advancement opportunity too.” He shrugged. “I just wanted you to know.”

  Emotions slammed into me so hard and fast that I couldn’t catch and identify any of them. But I wanted to be a supportive friend, so I pushed a smile through all the feelings. “That’s fantastic. Congratulations.” My voice sounded calm, like my usual self, which was both surprising and gratifying. “When will you need to decide by?”

  “The end of the week.” There was something in his expression I couldn’t identify, and it was gone before I could study it for long.

  “Well, good luck. If you need help with the decision, I know a wonderful older farm-lady who’s great at giving advice.” I grinned, trying to sound normal and happy.

  “Yeah, I’d definitely take some of your Aunt Dru’s wisdom on this.” He glanced over his shoulder at the closed penthouse door. “So, what’s the deal here, anyway? Those people are all using strange terms. Crone? That lady was elderly, but that’s kind of a rough thing to call her.”

  I snorted. “She had the right personality for it. I don’t know much about it myself. Apparently, they’re a council that rules over all the witches in the western hemisphere. They came to town because I’ve been using more magic lately, and it sort of . . . called them, I guess. The dead woman, Marian, thought I was dangerous and may need to have my powers taken away. Oh, and the three men are the three women’s Guards. They’re bonded somehow—mystically. I’m not sure how all of it works.”

  “Okay, so that explains why the young woman inside thinks you have a motive. I mean, I know little about you witches yet, but it seems like you wouldn’t take kindly to threats of having your power removed.”

  I rubbed my nose and noticed that my stomach felt empty. I needed lunch. And more coffee. “Yeah. I mean, it was a strange morning. These folks showed up at the farm right after you left, and there was a lot of mystical language being thrown around. Aunt Dru was acting all strange. So, I came here to get more information, but I can’t say that I learned a lot before one of them was murdered.”