The Mayhem Sisters (10 page)

But Vivi was faster. She snatched up the bracelet and shoved it into her pocket. Backpedaling, she spun around, desperate for a hiding place, but there was nowhere to go. The creature lurched toward her, wobbling awkwardly on the ground, unable to walk well on its thick curved talons. Red eyes flared. A guttural growl came from its throat.

“Mine,” she said in a show of defiance to the snarling creature.

It snorted and took flight, banking upward, avoiding a strike. Vivi felt a sigh of relief. Maybe it would let her go. Her fingers fumbled over the vials on her bandolier, grabbing a ward. Suddenly, the creature flashed into view in the spindly treetops, circling above her in a graceful arch. The potion was her best advantage over the beast. Huge wings swept toward her, sharp claws slashing the darkness. Vivi threw the vial to the ground and stomped on it with her boot. A spark ignited and an electric blue orb of light sprang to life, surrounding her in a protective bubble.

The thin transparent skin wavered, reverberating from the force of the magic, and Vivi hoped that it was strong enough to hold off the creature. It must have thought the same thing and took its chances, flying full force into the ward’s surface, sending up a geyser of sparks. It reeled backward, stunned, tumbling in mid-air until it slammed backwards into a tree with a terrible high-pitched scream.

The spell held, for now.

The ward was the only thing separating Vivi from the clawed familiar, and she had made it angry. After recovering from the impact, the creature advanced with its talons raised. Claws scraped against the surface of the transparent bubble with a nauseating screech, and then it took flight to make pass after pass in a barrage of dive-bombing attacks, rattling Vivi to her core. The familiar banged against the magical ward over and over. As she stepped around, her movements caused the ward to weaken. Raking its claws across the thin surface, the beast sliced through the waning bubble, collapsing the barrier, and flinging Vivi to the ground in a sickening thud.

This time Vivi didn’t have time to cast a new potion from her bandolier. There was no time to think as the familiar pounced and caught her within seconds. She tried to cover her head and curl up into a ball as the creature attacked. Claws tore through her jacket, slicing into her arm. Vivi screamed, rolled over onto her back, and kicked the creature in the belly with her boots, sending it flying backward in a dazed thump.

Vivi scrambled for cover under a grove of small trees. Her breath heaved in panicked gasps. She clutched her arm; warm blood seeped from between her fingers. The creature had recovered, and leathery wings filled the sky above her in a low circle. She grabbed a potion from her bandolier and broke it on the ground under her boot heel. A camouflage potion formed a haze, hiding her among the branches and underbrush. She was safe for the moment. The pain in her arm throbbed up to her shoulder, forcing her to bite back a cry.

A high-pitched whistle sounded. The creature pulled up and retreated. Huge wings whooshed through the air, pulling it toward the Darklander’s house. She was only about fifty yards away and could see the outline of a wizard standing outside of the heavy wooden door, light flooding from the entryway. Vivi swallowed hard. She couldn’t get a good look at him. He was a dark figure hidden by the light casting him in shadow, but she saw his arm raise, wand outstretched in his hand.

She stumbled to her feet and raced into the woods before a barrage of sparks exploded against the trees around her. She pumped her arms and legs as fast as she could, but took a hit in the back from a stinger spell. A spasm of pain radiated through her muscles. She pitched forward, but righted herself on a tree and kept moving despite the pain until she reached the portal, lungs burning, covered in dirt and sweat.

Vivi had unofficially met the Darklander, ruler at the edge of Everland. He answered to no one and was feared by all. His sick creature had attacked her, almost fatally, but she had been out in the woods at night alone. Her judgment had been questionable. The Dire Woods was his domain. But even through her pain, it occurred to Vivi that if the Darklander wasn’t responsible for the crimes against witches, then he probably knew who was.

At least she’d found a bracelet. Hopefully it would be something—another clue, a lead, a dangerous lure. At this point, she would take anything.

W
hen Vivi got home, she peeled herself out of her leather jacket and inspected the bloody gash inflicted by the freakish familiar. A huge claw mark had sliced across her upper arm, leaving a two-inch cut that was caked with congealed blood. She grabbed a vial from her belt and gulped down a pain potion.
It could have been a lot worse,
she told herself. She gritted her teeth and pressed a warm, wet washcloth to the ugly wound while resting on her bathroom floor, back slumped against the cool tile wall.

What had she been thinking? That she could take on whatever she found in the Dire Woods? She wasn’t the type to go charging out into the night, scouting for danger like her little sister. She gave herself a half-hearted smile. It hadn’t been all bad. At least she wasn’t dead. Plus, she did hold off that drooling leathery beast for a while. She officially had her first fight under her belt, even though it was with a giant bat.

Vivi dug through her medicine cabinet and found a wound patch that she had picked up from a healer witch who frequented her shop. Bartering with other witches for goods and services was really paying off, and she couldn’t be more relieved to find the healing pad to seal up the gash and keep it from scarring.

She peeled the wobbly brown gelatin substance off of the paper backing and stuck it to the washed cut. A cooling sensation enveloped her arm. The pain and swelling receded. She found some gauze bandage and wrapped it around her bicep. Vivi showered quickly, changed her clothes, and collapsed on the sofa for a few hours of sleep. She glanced at the clock before extinguishing the light and realized she’d be lucky to get three hours of sleep tops, as dawn was already creeping toward the horizon.
No rest for the wicked.

Remembering that she had given Pepper the morning off, Vivi woke early, gulped a cup of strong black tea, and headed down to her shop, wanting to put her belt and potions away before she got ready for work. She was also curious to investigate the silver bracelet she’d found in the woods. Possibilities raced through her head. Had it been lost, dropped, or stolen? But most importantly, who owned it? Did it have anything to do with Clarissa? Vivi hoped the poor witch was recovering in the healing ward. She’d have to pay her another visit soon.

She dug through her potions and ran a few basic magical tests for about an hour, but nothing worked on the bracelet. What magic had been infused into the metal had all but drained away, leaving no clues as to what it had been used for and no residue to identify the owner, either. She got nothing. Rubbing the silver between her fingers, she admired the strange plain cuff. This little gem would need an expert opinion.

Vivi was just about to put on a pot of coffee when a knock sounded on the front door. She peered around the corner from the back room and her heart leapt. The handsome sheriff was peeking into the shop window. Lance cupped his hands against the glass and his gaze roved the room. What was he doing here so early in the morning? The knocking continued, only louder. Her escapades last night had left her bleary-eyed and frazzled. She cringed, feeling like death warmed over. She wanted to dive under the counter, but it was too late. He had spotted her.
No use hiding.
She padded over to the door, glad she had at least brushed her teeth.

He was slow to enter, eyes downcast. “Sorry to bother you. I tried your apartment, but you weren’t there, so I figured…”

“No problem. What can I help you with, Lance? Do you need a potion?” She hoped he needed something quick, but by the look of him, this was serious.

“I was hoping you could come down to the station.” He gazed at her sheepishly. Not his typical calm but firm demeanor.

“Am I in trouble?” Did he know about her little trip into the Dire Woods last night? No, that was impossible. “Has something happened?” Vivi stepped back, concern raising her hackles.

“You could say that.”

“Do you want to come in the back and sit down? I’ll make you a cup of coffee while I finish brewing up some stock for the store.” She motioned over her shoulder and headed back, hoping to keep him at her shop, but he stopped in the doorway. The sheriff hadn’t budged.

“I can’t. I really need you to come with me to the station. This is serious.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“What happened?” she asked, her brow pinched with worry. Had he found the lost witch? Was she already dead?

“I should wait and tell you when we get there.” He moved to the threshold of her shop, imploring her with his eyes. The tiny string of bells on the door handle tinkled. His jaw was tense. “I can’t tell you any more.”

“What’s this about, Lance?” They were in a standoff. Vivi drummed her fingers on the countertop.

He sighed and shook his head. “Stubborn Mayhem.”

“Very.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Hex Division has camped out in my station, and they want to question you about your
vision
.”

“What? Why are
they
involved?”

She had never met a witch or wizard who worked for Hex, the special ops team the council assigned to the most serious and dangerous criminal magical cases. Her stomach lurched. She played the feeling off as lack of sleep and a decent breakfast, but she knew deep down that Hex Division was not an organization to take lightly. When they wanted an audience with a witch, she’d better well listen.

“Something bad has happened, and you aren’t going to tell me what it is, are you?” she asked.

“I don’t know. These Hexers are a tough group. They’re keeping a tight lid on why they’re here. I’ll help you as much as I can, but that’s all I’ve got right now.”

A gust of cold air filtered in from the open door. No use holding out now. She rubbed at the bandage poking out from under her T-shirt, the wound beginning to itch.

“What happened there?” Lance nodded toward her arm.

“Just a stupid accident.” Vivi grabbed a jacket and her purse and followed the sheriff. Her shop would have to stay closed. She crumbled up the note she wrote last night for Pepper and jotted down a new one. Her morning had taken a turn for the worse.

Vivi waited in an interrogation room at the back of the police station. The room was practically buzzing with protective wards. Her stomach growled, empty as a pit. She would kill for a cup of coffee, a donut, and a calming potion, in that order. She checked her watch. Only twenty minutes had passed, but it felt more like an hour.

A secretive group whose methods were shrouded in mystery, the Hex Division didn’t show up unannounced unless the situation was serious. They had the full authority of the Witch Council and only investigated the most severe crimes. The witches and wizards of Hex were highly skilled with powerful
persuasions
, usually involving physical strength, intellectual cunning, stealth, and subterfuge—any magical skills that they could use to their advantage to capture witches who had gone dark.

Vivi’s mind raced. This had to be connected to the Dire Woods and the circle of sooty black magic. Or maybe it was about that creep, the Darklander. He obviously wasn’t above stinging a witch in the back, even if she was just out for an innocent midnight stroll in the woods, hunting for clues. Ha! The last thing this interview was going to be about was innocence. She pinched her shoulder blades back, trying to stretch out the muscle, the ache of the sting still fresh.

Finally, Lance escorted three Hex Division members into the room. Rumor had it that all Hexers traveled in threes. The first one was a young witch with white hair cropped on the sides, long on the top, and tied back at the nape of her neck. She had delicate features, a rosebud mouth, and a pale pink scar that slashed her cheek, wounding her baby face. The second Hexer was a huge muscle-bound wizard who looked like he could punch a hole right through a ward with his bare fist. Both wore stoic expressions and black leather jackets and pants, customary of the Hex Division.

“Meet Hannah and Adam,” Lance said, introducing the Hexers. With a gruff demeanor, he glanced at Vivi briefly before nodding toward the final Hexer. “This is Division Commander Rye Finn. He has some questions for you today.” Lance walked out of the room without another word. Obviously the sheriff wasn’t happy the Hexers had infiltrated his station.

The other two Hexers had stood back when Rye Finn entered. He had a tall, muscular build. His features were angular, and his unshaven face and wavy black hair gave him a rugged appearance. He wore a metal wand carved with sharp swirls on his belt loop, but what was really fascinating about him was the collection of plain old rubber bands encircling his wrists.

“Are you an elemental?” Vivi asked, curiosity bubbling up in her. She had only met an elemental once. They were very rare, and the most powerful of witches. She didn’t know much about how the magical science worked, but she had learned a little during her academy days. Elementals could control one or more of the elements—fire, water, earth, and air—and many used the weather as a power source. The rubber bands neutralized electricity.

“You’re very perceptive, but no.” His pale gray eyes more than looked at her; they studied her, peered into her soul in a way that made her shudder. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mayhem. You can call me Finn.” He set a glass of water in front of her.

“Why wear the rubber bands?” She gulped the drink, trying to steady her nerves.

“My mother was an elemental, but I’m not full strength. I’m training in conduction, pulling electricity, so I’m not official. Self-taught.” His voice was deep and smooth, and he smiled with one side of his mouth. “My
persuasion
is a little subtler. I pride myself in being able to read a witch or wizard, detect deception. Understand their character.”

“You’re like a witch lie detector, is that it?”
One who pulled lightning down from the sky as a hobby. Wow. Talk about being a talented wizard.
Vivi swallowed. The room had gotten much warmer.

“Something like that.” He sat across from her, and the other two Hexers flanked the doorway. “I just want to talk. The sheriff tells me you reported a crime you witnessed in a vision. Is that correct?” He leaned back in his chair. His stare grated on her nerves.

“Yes.”
Keep it simple.

“Curious. You aren’t a registered seer, so your
persuasion
is a mystery to us. One you’ve been keeping a secret. Do you keep many secrets where magic is concerned?” His tone had shifted, forming an edge.

“I don’t see why my magic would concern you. I’m sure as a Hexer you have more important duties.” How did he find out about her vision? There’s no way Lance reported her. Vivi glanced up, trying to see if the sheriff was in earshot. “What brings you way out here to Willow Realm? Are you assisting the sheriff with his investigation?”

Lance walked back in and dropped a pile of parchments onto the table. “I filed a report on the witch we found thanks to your vision.” He rolled his eyes. “The Hex Division doesn’t miss much.”

Good, old, by-the-book Lance.

“That’s why we like the sheriff. He’s one of the most efficient lawmen I know. The report sent up a warning to us.” Finn arched an eyebrow. “The case interests me.” He nodded to the huge Hexer, who closed the door behind Lance as the sheriff left the room.

“Do you know who the young witch is? Is she okay?” Vivi asked. She tried not to fidget. It was the one question she wanted to ask, but wasn’t sure if she was prepared for an answer.

“No, I’m afraid we don’t. Another interesting twist to this case.” Finn’s stare practically bore holes into her.

“Interesting? How so?” Vivi asked.

“You went searching for one witch and you just happen to literally stumble onto a crime scene. I’m wondering if the witch even exists.”

“The vision happened. I can only follow it.” She swallowed hard, hearing Esmeralda’s words echoed in her own.

Finn sifted through the parchments Lance had left on the table. There was also a pile of small clear evidence bags. Finding what he was looking for, he pushed a piece of parchment toward her. The image of the old witch appeared before her. Except in this photo Clarissa was bright-eyed and alert, smiling into the camera. Her complexion was creamy and bright, marked only with laugh lines and a burst of crow’s feet caused by her wide smile. Stuffed into one of the plastic bags was the torn gown that she had been wearing, stained with blood.