Spell Booked (Retired Witches Mysteries Series Book 1) (9 page)

This circle I draw.

Evil dismayed.

Light the way.

Heed my call.

“The leopard skin suits you.” I remarked on her outfit. It was skintight from neck to feet. I felt sure it was
faux
skin, but it didn’t really matter.

“Thanks.” She slid from the car, her long black hair swishing as she moved. “You seem to be having a few problems. I’ll be glad to help.”

In my experience, Cassandra, and the Grand Council in general, were never much help. I had known of cases where’d they made things much worse.

The problem with Sylvia and her husband, for instance. Cassandra had recommended Walter’s memory wipe to the council. She was relentless in persecuting them. Once it was over, we were able to help Sylvia some small amount. We hadn’t dared before because we didn’t want to face the council.

“I’m fine, thanks. Just going into the library to speak with our new witch.”

“What about the witch on the boat? It looked like you could’ve used a hand with that.”

I faced her curiously. I was at a disadvantage in stature, magic and fashion.

“What do you know about that witch?” I asked her with the strict, no-nonsense tones of the schoolteacher I’d been for thirty years.

She shrugged. “Nothing much—except that you should be careful if you plan on retiring someday. Word on the ether is that there’s a witch killing other witches and stealing magical items of power.”

“And who is that?”

“We aren’t sure yet.”

“Why isn’t the council doing something about it?”

“We’re working on it. We don’t want to persecute one of our own without being
sure
the witch is doing something wrong. It’s not against the rules to ‘inherit’ another witch’s spell book.”

“But it is against the rules to kill another witch and
steal
her spell book, isn’t it? We believe Olivia is dead by Brian Fuller’s hand. She went out with him right before she died. We traced him back to his room at the community college. It shouldn’t be that hard for you to do the same.”

“You have no real proof that Brian Fuller killed Olivia, just like your husband isn’t sure what’s going on. You haven’t told him about being a witch, have you?”

“No. I made up a story after we fell in the river. He’s nowhere near thinking that magic exists or that I could be involved with it.”

“That’s good. What about your spell book? Is that still safe?”

“Yes.” I lied with a straight face. Joe didn’t realize just how
good
I was at lying.

“Well, keep your wits about you. You and Elsie aren’t strong enough to handle whatever is going on. I’m going to give you something to summon me if you get backed into a corner. I can’t keep my eye on you all the time, you know.”

In an instant, she was gone. In her place, rolling on the concrete, was a ring. I put it on my finger. It sized itself perfectly to fit me.

I wished that it made me feel better. I knew I wouldn’t use it unless I was truly afraid this rogue witch was going to kill me. I didn’t need the council’s help that badly.

Thinking about everything Cassandra had told me—and
not
told me—I went into the library. Was it just my imagination or was there a touch of fear in her voice when she spoke of the rogue witch? She also wasn’t in any hurry to help us find him either.

I found Dorothy sitting on the floor stacking books in the children’s section of the library. I could tell she wasn’t happy to see me.

“Hi, Molly.”

“Hello, Dorothy.” I sat on one of the small wood chairs. “I see you decided to work today after all.”

She smiled at the books that surrounded us. “You know, my whole life, every time things happened that didn’t make sense to me, I could come here and bury my nose in a book, and it was better. I still feel like that. I feel like nothing can hurt me here. None of it is real.”

“Unlike finding out that there are witches and magic in the world, right?”

“Yes. I thought it was bad finding out that I’d been adopted when I was a kid. Finding out that I was a witch was much worse. I could always imagine that my parents were killed trying to save me from something terrible. How do I explain witchcraft? I don’t know how we made those flowers grow today. I thought that thing on the boat was going to kill me. I’m not ready to die. Magic isn’t fun like I thought it would be.”

I looked at all the decorative items in the children’s section and remembered all the times that Mike and I had come here to read books on rainy days when we couldn’t play outside.

Dorothy was a little older than my son, but she still felt like a child to me. She was a child who’d been abandoned, a witch left on her own to figure out the mystery of who she was and what she could do.

I was glad Olivia had found her so we had a chance to correct that slight in her childhood. Being a witch meant being unique and seeing the world in a different way than most people. It didn’t matter if Dorothy knew she was a witch or not, that feeling was still there.

“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you this is an easy road to follow,” I finally said. “But being a witch with no idea of who you are and what you can do is even worse. Magic,
earth magic
, courses through you like your life’s blood. You can’t stop it, and it will be hard now to ignore it. You need me and Elsie as much we need you.”

Tears welled in her eyes. Her smile faltered when she looked back at me. “I don’t think I can do this, Molly. I’m scared. This is too weird, you know? I don’t think I’m cut out to be a witch. Is that okay?”

I patted her hand. “It’s your choice. You have to do what’s right for you. You know where we are if you change your mind.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I will.”

On the verge of crying myself, I walked out of the library with my back straight and my head high. Though it had been a difficult day and everything seemed to be falling apart, I had to believe things would get better.

If Dorothy wasn’t the right witch for us, there would be another. Elsie and I would find Olivia’s killer and our spell book. Joe would get back to normal.

I’d always been a bit of an optimist. Olivia had teased me about it. She didn’t have my sense of the world mostly being in balance.

Her view was darker and sometimes scarier. That was why she’d never committed to another person and had refused to bear a child to take her place. She believed the world was essentially bad. I could never agree with her, even though it would’ve been impossible for two women to be any closer than we were.

I went home and dropped down into a chair, leaning my head back as Isabelle came to sit on my lap. My hand stroked her without thinking, her soft fur and calming presence making me feel a little better.

I closed my eyes and thought about Olivia. There was no time to mourn her properly, not right now. Too much was going on that threatened the foundation of my entire life. I had to focus on moving forward, working my plan as I saw it.

Isabelle’s hiss alerted me to something in the house that wasn’t right. I opened my eyes, and there was the ghost ball I had followed before finding out about Olivia’s death.

I stared at the glowing presence right in front of my face. I knew this was Olivia. Ghosts weren’t my specialty, but I could
feel
her presence—I could almost smell her perfume.

She’d wanted to let me know what had happened to her in the alley, and she had something she wanted to tell me.

Isabelle jumped down with another hiss at the ghost ball. She didn’t care if it was Olivia or not, ghosts didn’t belong in
her
house.

“Olivia? Is that you?” I stuck my hand forward with the intention of touching the ball of energy.

The front door opened quickly and slammed shut. “Mom? Are you here?”

It was Mike, home unexpectedly, probably with six loads of dirty clothes.

I glanced away for an instant, and when I looked back, the ghost ball was gone. I was disappointed. I guess I’d hoped Olivia had some answers for me. Instead, I was left with the same bitter feeling of frustration. This day just needed to end.

“Michael!” I rushed to his side, almost tripping over his duffel bags. “I’m so glad to see you.”

I hugged him. He
let
me hug him, with a small pat on the back. It used to be much better when he was ten. Those years were long gone. I was looking forward to grandchildren who wouldn’t mind being cuddled.

“This is a surprise,” I told him. “You’re home a few weeks early.”

My son looked more like his father—tall and lanky but with my blue eyes. He had a quick sense of humor and more curiosity than most people about how things worked. That was why he’d decided to become an engineer.

I’d long ago released any lingering disappointment that he hadn’t inherited my abilities. I didn’t love him any less for it. It was my choice to marry someone with no magic. I knew it was a good chance that my children wouldn’t have magic either.

“I know!” He didn’t seem happy to be there. “I left school. I’m done, Mom. I don’t need it anymore. I hope you and Dad aren’t too disappointed.”

“Has the whole world gone insane?” Joe asked that night as we were getting dressed to take our son out for dinner at his favorite restaurant. “Are we supposed to be
happy
that Mike isn’t going to be an engineer after that’s all he wanted to be from the time he was five years old?”

I was looking in the mirror, trying to make my fine brown hair do something besides lie there limply. “I don’t know what to tell you. He’s an adult. There’s not much we can do about it.”

Joe’s frown in the mirror behind me was like a thundercloud. “There’s plenty we can do about it. Instead, we’re going out to celebrate this stupid idea. We should tell him to go back to school right now!”

“Don’t you think we should hear him out before we pass judgment? He’s dealing with some problem, Joe. We can still talk him around once we understand what’s wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter what’s wrong, Molly. Whatever made him drop out of college is a bad idea.”

I got up and put my arms around his neck, looking deep into his troubled eyes. “He’s here. Let’s have dinner and find out what’s going on. Let’s not alienate him when he needs us.”

He kissed me quickly and turned away. “I guess we don’t have any choice.”

Where was my wildly romantic husband who would never have kissed my cheek and left me in the bedroom by myself? Maybe he was right and the world had gone insane. It certainly felt that way.

One bit of good news shortly after Mike got home—Elsie had told her daughter that she would move out if Aleese didn’t leave her alone. It didn’t make much sense to me since the house belonged to Elsie. But whatever worked to keep us together was what mattered.

“That’s one piece of the puzzle back where it belongs,” I told Isabelle. “We have to hold on to what we have right now. We can always add the other pieces as we go along.”

She agreed and rubbed her head against my leg, requesting salmon for dinner instead of tuna. I laughed and fed her before we left. It was an easy thing to do that didn’t make my brain ache like so many other things I’d been thinking about.

We left the house in Joe’s SUV and drove to Flaming Amy’s Burrito Barn on Oleander. This was Mike’s favorite place to eat.

“I’m starving!” he told us as we walked into the restaurant. “I’m glad we could come here.”

Joe kind of grunted at his words. The waiter, who knew us well, found us a quiet table in the back so we could talk. The restaurant was packed, as always.

“We’d like to talk about why you left school,” I said as we sat down.

“Does there have to be a reason?” Mike picked up a menu. “I’m old enough to know what I want.”

“And that is?” Joe’s eyes narrowed.

“I want to be free to start my life,” Mike said in a belligerent tone. “I’ve spent years in college. I don’t want to be an engineer anymore.”

Mike didn’t seem to notice how angry his father was. We ordered dinner and got our drinks as Mike went on and on about how excited he was and what a good thing this was going to be.

I kept listening to him, hoping he’d give away what was
really
happening in his life. There hadn’t been anything in his texts or phone calls that had made me think something was wrong. Whatever had happened was sudden, which probably meant he hadn’t had a chance to think it over.