A dark shadow descended over Sloane as she knelt on her knees in Dragon Alley. She plummeted into complete darkness. Her body tensed. Then an explosive light blinded her right before she opened her eyes.
She was sitting on the sofa at Mallow Cottage with Elvina and Dorathea by her side.
“Do you feel any pain?” her cousin asked. The lines across her forehead were more pronounced.
Sloane lay back and took note of her body. “No. I’m all right.”
Dorathea held out a bottle of swirling smoke and released the vapors into Sloane’s face. “Breathe it in, pet.”
“What is that?”
“A protection against curse-binding.” Dorathea held her hands at Sloane’s temples for a moment. “There is no damage.”
“What do you mean? What kind of damage?”
“The kind that happens when a wiċċe draws upon her anger,” answered Dorathea in a stern voice. “Is this the first time you have felt pain in your head after protecting yourself?”
“Yeah. I’ve never felt that way before.”
Dorathea sighed and turned to Elvina. “What did you sense?”
Only the initial danger that summoned me, the man in Dragon Alley. The familiar crawled over the sofa’s top cushions and rested above Sloane’s head.
“You know he pulled a knife on me, right?”
“And in return, you nearly killed him. Yes, I am aware.” Dorathea sat in an armchair. “Elvina said you tried to disarm him first?”
“Yeah. But the spell didn’t work.”
An incantation doesn’t choose to work, dear. A wiċċan makes it perform.
Sloane looked up at the familiar. “Who asked you?”
Dorathea frowned. “You may have stopped his attack. But you drew from anger, not your desire to protect. They are entirely different sources. You have relied on anger for far too long without consequence. Something or someone protected you in New York. But here, you do not seem to have the same protection. I am afraid dark magic will affect your mind sooner rather than later.”
“Jesus Christ. The guy tried to kill me.” Sloane sat forward. “I’m sure you’ve laid someone out in self-defense.”
Dorathea peered into Sloane’s eyes. “I’m far too powerful to risk acting out of anger.”
“Fine. I get it. I’ll try harder.” She looked up at Elvina. “So you teleported me?”
We bestealced, yes.
“Best-eal-ce—”
Be-steal-ce-don. How hard is that to say?
Dorathea tutted. “Elvina, please.”
“Are you going to teach me to teleport like that?” Sloane asked her cousin.
“Yes. Your next lesson.”
“Well, give me a day or two to wrap my head around it. That was a wild ride.” She got to her feet and pulled the case board into the middle of the room.
Excellent. We’re working on your lucky baby , Elvina said and crossed her front paws. Her tail hung languidly on the back cushion. I’ve already explained to Dorathea how you and Thomas spent hours analyzing it, working through the night until the truth revealed itself. It was truly inspiring.
Sloane scowled at her. “For Christ’s sake. Why would you bring him up?”
Elvina’s tail tapped the sofa. How long are you going to carry such strong feelings?
“Nice. You think I should be over their betrayal?”
Elvina looked away without answering.
“For goodness’ sake, pet. Is there anyone in your life with whom you are pleased?”
“I’m happy with plenty of people. And for your information, I don’t start out angry at anyone.”
“Yes, I am sure. Do you feel up to working?”
Sloane nodded.
“Very well. Shall we have a look at our suspects then?”
Photos of Harold, Jane, Nathaniel, and Mary were in the middle of the board. Sloane pulled out the brochure she’d picked up in Gannon Ferris’s reception area, placed it on the board and drew a red line to Harold. She stared at Jane’s photo. It was easier to accept her death when she had thought it an accident.
She yanked the cap off a marker and pointed at pictures of Gannon and the family friends who owned businesses on Old Main. “These are our suspects. At first, I thought whoever hired Morris knew Harold was flying to New York to meet me. But there might be someone else. I was in the gallery, and I used a spell to detect Nathaniel and Mary. They had received a letter from Jane inviting them to visit us. And in my vision, Nathaniel was writing her back.”
Dorathea straightened. “What? Jane asked your grandparents to come to New York? Why didn’t you tell us this?”
“I didn’t get the chance. At the time, you were harassing me about trying to detect Rose Keane and drinking too much. And then I forgot.”
“Nevertheless, you must inform me of such discoveries,” Dorathea said. “What exactly happened?”
“I found a pen on their desk and held it. It vibrated. In my vision, Nathaniel was using it to write a letter back to Jane.”
Then you saw the last time he used it , Elvina said.
“The last time,” Sloane mumbled. “How long has the exhibition in the middle of the gallery been there?”
“I have not visited the gallery since our holiday celebration. But the center showcase changes every quarter.”
“So it would have changed in January, the month they were killed?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“What was it last quarter?”
“In December, the exhibit was jewelry. Beautiful local gems. Red jasper. Flowerstone.”
“It’s a sculpture of a woman’s bust now. So my vision had to be of them sometime in January.” Sloane knitted her brows. “So, after thirty years, Jane was going to reveal everything. Why?” Sloane looked at Elvina. “Did you know anything about this?”
No, dear. Elvina’s usually smooth voice stuttered in surprise.
“Could anyone have known that Nathaniel and Mary planned to visit us?”
“If I was unaware of their plans, Nathaniel and Mary had certainly kept it to themselves,” answered Dorathea, frowning. She snapped her fingers and a tea service appeared.
“I think my vision was a few days before they died.”
“Why do you think that?” Dorathea asked, sending a steaming teapot around to fill each cup.
“Nathaniel said they were overjoyed to meet her. I think he meant me. I was born on January twenty-first.”
“They were killed on the nineteenth,” Dorathea said.
“I wonder if Jane had invited them to meet me on my birthday.” Sloane paused. “But why didn’t the killer just follow them to New York and attack us while we were all in the same place?”
If the four of you had been together, the West Coven would have been unstoppable .
Sloane considered the familiar’s comment. It made sense for Jane and her parents. But for her? Having been kept in the dark about being a wiċċan? Unable to cast spells?
She turned to the board and wrote MOTIVE on the right side. “All right. We have persons for the who. Let’s narrow down the why.” She turned back to Elvina and Dorathea. “We’ve discussed two motives. One is financial. We know Charles and the other family businesses benefit monetarily if I die. Charles or all of them possibly benefit from Harold’s death. I believe Charles, Reed’s Fish Market, and The Spotted Owl are all in financial trouble. I’ll know for sure when my contact gets me their financials.” She wrote FINANCIAL under motive.
Charles owes this Gannon Ferris? Elvina asked.
“Yeah. I think it’s a substantial debt. Big enough to kill for. I also know Charles offered him Jane’s Degas as payment. Gannon expects to collect it on Friday.”
“Harold placed the Degas at the law firm for safekeeping. It is important to your family,” Dorathea said.
“To the Wests?” Sloane asked.
“Yes, for you. You are a direct bloodline. We simply must not allow this exchange to take place.”
“Don’t worry. It won’t. I told Gannon the art belongs to me, and I’m here in Denwick to collect it. Stirred the pot. We’ll see what happens.”
Sounds dangerous , Elvina said. She nodded at the coffee table and a platter of madeleines appeared.
“I’m not worried about it. After Friday when I meet with Charles, I’ll bring the painting home to the cottage.” Sloane sipped her tea and grabbed a cookie.
“Then I must place the Degas under a protection charm before then,” Dorathea said.
“Yeah, okay. That’s a good idea.” She wrote COVEN beneath FINANCIAL. “The second motive is to end the West Coven.”
Dorathea stared at the board and drew her mouth into a thin line. “Have we connected any suspects to a wiċċan or Demon?”
“Not yet. My contact is checking their phone records. One had to have called Morris, and we know he was a Magical or possessed.” Sloane tapped the marker on the photos. “Has the Grand Coven given us permission to detect any of them?”
“Ours is a complicated request. It will take a while,” answered Dorathea.
“Typical.” Sloane paced. “Could any one of our suspects be wiċċan?”
“I have known everyone on that whiteboard since they were born, and no one has ever given me a vibration,” answered Dorathea.
“But they could be hiding their identity from you like Jane hid ours, couldn’t they?”
Dorathea held her finger to her lips, deep in thought. “You are correct,” she said finally. “Or they could be defenders of their own kind. Nevertheless, they could not find our coven. Only Wiċċan Protectors can sense each other. And our numbers are few. I would know if the Weardas was investigating one of our own.”
“Yet, someone did find us. The question is how?” Sloane stopped. “Maybe we’re thinking about this all wrong. What if this wiċċan didn’t need to discover our coven? What if they always knew it existed?”
“Hmm. That is unlikely. Under the Concealment Law, every species defenders live in complete anonymity. It is the only way to prevent magical collusion with Demons.”
Sloane paced again and considered her cousin’s answer. “When was the law enacted?”
“About the time our West ancestors arrived in Denwick. The four quadrants were becoming increasingly unstable. Nogicals and the original defender Magicals invited evil through acts of genocide and crusades of brutality, conspiring with Demons to amass wealth and power. Protector covens, like the Wests, as well as the Weardas were tasked with uncovering those magical families who had betrayed their communities and they were banished a long, long time ago.” Dorathea placed her cup back on its saucer.
“Jesus Christ.” Sloane sat in an armchair. “Revenge is a powerful motivation. It can last a lifetime. And I don’t mean that saying, ‘a dish best served cold.’”
Elvina lifted her head from a dish of madeleines. What are you saying?
“Maybe a descendent from one of the banished families has returned to avenge their ancestors. The Grand Coven should know what Magicals from here colluded with a Demon, right?”
“They would know, indeed. But I am afraid your theory is impossible,” Dorathea said. “Banished Magicals go to Drusnirwd . They can never leave.”
“If someone wants something bad enough, anything is possible. It would make sense…” she mumbled.
What, dear?
“Jane. Her research. Maybe she discovered something about the banished families. Say a member from one of them had somehow returned. And that knowledge made it dangerous for her. Maybe that’s why she had to run.”
Elvina sat up. Do you think the killer has been here for over thirty years?
Sloane looked at the faces on the board. “Maybe longer.”
Dorathea shook her head. “Drusnirwd has held prisoners for millennia without incident. If such an escape had happened. We would know.”
“Yeah. I get your skepticism. But after years in my line of work, I’ve found that what most people think is impossible is only improbable.”
Not this time, dear.
“She is correct. But let us entertain your theory. Why would a descendant wait so long to inflict vengeance?” Dorathea asked.
Sloane leaped to her feet. “Maybe he or she couldn’t risk being recognized. Or the West Coven was too powerful at the time.” She wrote the names of Denwick’s original families on the left-hand side of the board. “Keanes, Reeds, and the Gildeys are still here. Smalldons, Ilievs, Tindalls, and Emleys are gone. We need to track down these family lines. Were they magical? Do they have family branches that still exist in this world?” She capped the marker. “Dorathea, can you go to the Grand Coven again and try to persuade them to tell us what they know about them? And what about the Demon? Was it captured? Destroyed? See if they will tell us about it, too.”
“I shall go at once.” Dorathea wrapped her purple cloak around her and disappeared.
Sloane looked at Elvina. “I’m going to take another look at Jane’s notes. There’s got to be a clue in there. If her investigation forced her into hiding, she must have discovered something important. How about you visit your mother and ask if she knows anyone who might help us? Unless you’re too scared of her.”
Elvina bristled. Very funny. While I’m gone, you might want to train more or avoid alleys.
“Āniman!” Sloane shouted. The crystal dish on the sofa’s top cushion flew to her. She caught it and ate another madeleine. “Looks like I’m doing okay.”
Elvina flicked her tail, and her dish vanished. Don’t be too chuffed with yourself. We expect you to cast your spells when it matters. She leaped off the couch, her nose and tail in the air, and sauntered away.
Sloane shouted, “You know what Jane used to say. Expectations only leave you disappointed. Hey, get us some of Freya’s scones, too.”