Death's Hexed Hobnobs Page 11

  January smiled back. “How much do I owe you and when can we next meet?” She asked.

  Tor Bennett quoted a price so reasonable that January felt like she was paying for guitar lessons. Now she really saw how much he hadn’t wanted to take on Luke as a client.

  “I think it’s best I contact you about our next lesson. You never know who’s listening,” Tor said.

  January wondered if her worries about scrying vampires and magic being used to spy on her were all well founded. Only time with Tor would tell. She had so much to learn.

  January glanced at the time on her phone and was dismayed to discover she’d been in the pub for far longer than she’d intended. She decided to call Ryan and let him know she hadn’t been turned into a toad.

  “How’s the bar opening going?” She asked, once she’d got that out of the way. She frowned at the background noises. It sounded like someone was operating heavy machinery.

  “Let’s just say there are a few kinks to iron out,” Ryan said, sketchily. “You should probably go home and get an early night tonight, there’s nothing I can’t handle here,” he said, sounding way too casual.

  January narrowed her eyes. She thought she heard the sound of screaming in the distance. “Well, if you say so…”

  Ryan hung up.

  January was left feeling as though there was a lot he hadn’t told her. If he says he can handle it… she thought, and decided to let it go. If it had been anything really serious or bounty hunter related, she was sure he’d have said something. I might just drive past…

  The bar was on fire.

  It wasn’t a bad fire. In fact, it was just one of the rubbish bins and a small wall, and someone was already well on their way to quenching the flames. January could see several figures inside running around, but there didn’t seem to be any more flames, so she assumed there must be other pressing issues to be dealt with.

  The doors burst open and one of the werewolves was flung out, closely followed by Ryan, who was just dusting his hands off. January ducked down in her car, hoping the dimly lit street was enough to hide her highly recognisable vehicle.

  So that was what Ryan had meant by a few kinks… the werewolves had decided to visit the bar and make trouble.

  January bit her lip in anger, wishing there was something she could do without declaring war. Maybe there is something you can do, her mind whispered, reminding her that she was now learning magic. There had to be some non-destructive way of stopping the wolves. She had no intention of turning into Luke, but she could definitely see how a few well-placed spells could make life a hell of a lot easier for her.

  “Patience… for now, Ryan can handle it,” she muttered and waited for him to go back into the bar before she started the engine and drove back home.

  January immediately tried out her new witch sight talent when she got out of the car. The old farmhouse had no glow, but she could just make out a few blobs of something in the grass, which she thought might have been the anti-vampire dust she’d bought off the internet months ago to keep Gregory out. The circle had been broken when it had rained and washed away, but evidently some powder still remained.

  January was grinning from ear to ear when she unlocked the door. She could see magic! It was amazing how much could change in a couple of hours. Perhaps it was a little premature, but she felt like now - just maybe - she had a hope against the Old Ones. Or at least the killers they were sending against her.

  “Simon! Dinner time!” She called when she got into the kitchen. The little black cat had probably given up on his food and decided to sleep by now, but she felt guilty for coming back so late and leaving him hungry.

  There was a mew from on top of the kitchen cabinet.

  “There you are!” She said, as Simon stuck his head out and glared down at her.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  She’d carried on using witch sight without thinking about it.

  Simon was glowing brighter than a Christmas tree.

  12

  “You’re under a spell, aren’t you?” She said to the black cat. He jumped down onto the unit and stared at her. “Or several spells,” she added, trying to make sense of the plethora of colours that surrounded the small, furry feline.

  His gaze now seemed to say ‘of course I am, you idiot’.

  “I’ll do what I can. But no more of the lip. I didn’t know any better, okay?” Now she felt completely stupid for having all of those silly conversations with Simon when they were alone – like everyone did with their pet cat! Only, now she knew there was a pretty good chance that he’d understood her perfectly.

  January reached inside herself and found the indescribable magical essence that lay there, sleeping. She pushed it outwards and felt around the brightly glowing bits that clung to the cat. Oh no, she thought, while she untied several strands. There was something worryingly familiar about this spell…

  It took her an entire hour, unwinding separate strands, with Simon complaining when each one was inched free of him. She figured it was probably uncomfortable, but there was no way it was really hurting him. January thought that Simon might turn out to be a bit of a complainer.

  Finally, she reached the last, knotted piece of magic, where the spell seemed to join. After a few strong wrenches, everything came loose. She was thrown backwards across the sofa by the release of magical energy. When she pulled herself up off the floor and crawled back up the sofa, there was more of a surprise in store than she’d expected.

  “You! But I’ve seen you. You’re a human.”

  The man standing in her kitchen had a face she recognised. It was the same man who’d watched her twice from the audience when she’d been performing with her band. He was also the one who’d led her to the first pair of bounty hunters.

  “Yes, it’s rather complicated to explain. The spell meant I was mainly a cat but then, quite randomly, I would turn human. The snag was, I wouldn’t be able to explain what had been done to me, or who I was. Really, the whole human thing was just salt in the wound – a false hope. My tormentor is truly twisted.” The man who was once a cat brushed his suit down.

  January tried to ignore how good he looked in it. Had she really spent all that time tickling his tummy?

  “Well, that explains the message about the cupcakes and the wicked witch warning,” she said, more to herself than to the mystery man.

  She had to stop calling him that.

  “What’s your name, by the way?”

  “It actually is Simon. I’m not sure if you just got lucky, or if you’re a little bit psychic too.” The man twisted his mouth in such a cattish way, January was surprised he didn’t instantly turn back into one.

  “Huh! Well, it suits you.”

  According to Simon’s face, that was the wrong thing to say.

  “How did you know about the cupcakes?”

  “The coven…” He started to say and then shook his head. “Can we get back to the important part? You know - the part where I got cursed by the man you just spent the evening with?”

  January bit the inside of her cheek. She’d known exactly who was behind the spells on Simon as soon as she’d started taking them off. Tor Bennett had said she had an unusual style, but his own signature was equally recognisable. This had the same feel as the endless garden.

  “Is there a reason he turned you into a cat?”

  “It’s a long story,” Simon said.

  January squinted her eyes at him. He was going to have to do better than that.

  He sighed. “The first thing you should know is that Tor Bennett is actually my father.”

  “Wait… what?” January looked at human Simon again and began to see he may actually be telling the truth. Their eyes were nothing alike, (which was usually where January would have started the comparison) but she could see it in the colour of Simon’s hair, and both men had enthusiastic eyebrows. He raised one of them now and she nodded reluctantly. She believed this part of his story.


  “Why did he turn you into a cat?”

  “He really is the wicked witch. And like I said; it’s a long story. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a life to reassemble and resume. I’ve spent the last twenty years as a cat, hoping that there would be a witch good enough to spot I was under a spell and take the thing off me. Until now, no one I’ve met has even bothered to learn witch sight. Witch sight, of all things! They all love their curses and their dirty tricks, but everyone skips the basics… I suppose it’s fitting that it’s my father who’s responsible for the undoing of his own spell.” Simon sniffed and looked sulky. “Now I’m back, the covens around here are going to be a little different.”

  January thought that sounded rather ominous. “At least you didn’t get a cat’s lifespan when you were turned furry,” she observed.

  Simon shot her a cattish glare. January decided to give up helping him see the bright side. Perhaps twenty years spent mainly in cat form robbed you of a positive outlook. January frowned. Simon only looked like he was in his early thirties, at most.

  “How old were you when Tor turned you into a cat?”

  Simon frowned. “In my fifties, I think. Things have gotten a little fuzzy over the years.”

  January nodded, like it was completely normal that a seventy year old was wandering around looking like a thirty year old dreamboat. Tor must have shared the secret with his son.

  “So, you’re a witch.” She wanted to get this straight.

  “Obviously.” Simon shook his head and January could see him thinking ‘and you’re an idiot’. “I need to go. Thanks for feeding me… when you remembered,” he added.

  January folded her arms. She’d been pretty good, actually. It was only when things had happened, like people trying to murder her, that Simon had been a little neglected. Come to think of it, things of that nature had happened quite a lot recently.

  “I don’t recommend continuing your lessons with my father, or having anything to do with him. He’s bad news.”

  “I have to learn this stuff somehow. I don’t have a whole lot of options at the moment,” January told him, still wondering what was so bad about Tor.

  “Well, I could teach you.”

  January tried not to laugh but knew it must have shown on her face, as Simon instantly scowled.

  “The spell that was put on me was designed so that I couldn’t do a thing about it. It was like a frog prince type of deal. That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to magic.”

  “I’ll think about it,” January said, with a thin smile. Going by her instincts, she’d pick Tor every time. Simon was too quick-tempered and sulky. She definitely wanted to hear Tor’s side of the story.

  The front door clicked open and January just had time to think ‘Oh fudge!’ before Ryan walked into the kitchen and found her there with a strange man.

  “Hi… who are you?” Ryan began, sounding quite polite, all things considered.

  “Simon,” Simon said and several things clicked into place in Ryan’s head.

  “The cat? You’ve had one magic lesson and now you’re making cats into humans?” He turned to January, who winced.

  “It’s a long story,” she said, deciding to borrow Simon’s favourite phrase.

  “Hey, haven’t I seen you before? You were at that gig… staring.” Ryan’s eyes turned to slits. January felt the tension in the air build.

  “Simon apparently wasn’t confined to being a cat for the whole time, but he couldn’t control the changes and couldn’t tell anyone about the spell he was under.” January bit her tongue. Why was she the one saying all of this? Simon was the person who knew what had happened to him best.

  Unfortunately, Simon merely slouched against the kitchen counter, shooting ‘I don’t like you’ daggers at Ryan.

  “You were a pain as a cat,” Ryan informed him.

  January felt like walking away and leaving them to fight it out.

  “You should watch your mouth. You owe me more than you know. I led January to those wolf bounty hunters before they could attack. I warned her about the cupcakes and about meeting with my father. Although, I’m glad she ignored the last warning, or I’d still be furry.”

  Ryan’s face clouded and January knew she was in for some serious interrogation. The cupcakes and the detail about being led to the bounty hunters had both never been mentioned - mostly because it had slipped her mind.

  “I should be going,” Simon said. “I’ll contact you soon about…” He raised his eyebrows and said no more.

  January wished he’d left the house ten minutes ago. Every single thing he did was making Ryan angrier.

  She walked him to the front door and was glad when he finally stepped out into the freezing night air. A more charitable person might have enquired as to where he was planning to stay the night and whether or not he would be okay on his own, but January was all out of charity tonight. Simon had just pushed every single button Ryan possessed. He was not her favourite cat right now.

  Ryan was waiting with his arms firmly folded when she walked back into the kitchen.

  “Where would you like me to start?” January asked with a hopeful smile.

  Ryan didn’t return it. “I don’t even know if you should bother. I come back from a really bad night at the bar and find you with a guy who looks like Gregory’s better-dressed brother in the kitchen.”

  January bristled. She’d told him who Simon was! “I’m sorry about Simon… my meeting with Tor went really well. He seemed like a decent guy who might be able to help us with everything. He told me he was a theoretical witch, apart from when teaching and in extreme circumstances. Then, he taught me how to use witch sight, which is this really useful thing because now I can see whenever someone’s done magic. That’s how I knew about Simon. when I came home, he was glowing.” She paused for breath, pleased she’d managed to get all of that out without an interruption. “I took off the spell and you saw what happened next. I preferred him as a cat.”

  “I’m not a huge fan of either form,” Ryan grumbled, but January thought he looked a little less angry.

  “Here’s the rub. The person who put the spell on Simon was Tor Bennett. Simon is actually Tor’s son.” Now Ryan looked just as confused as she felt. “I couldn’t get any more out of him than that, but trust me, I will get the truth from Tor next time I meet with him.”

  “Next time? You’re going to meet him again after you’ve found out he’s already lied to you?”

  “He might not have been lying. He said he was theoretical, except in extreme circumstances. Simon could have been one of those circumstances – you’ve met the guy! Also, perhaps his policy has changed since twenty years ago. Apparently, that was when Simon got cursed.”

  Ryan’s eyes bulged and he twisted his nose ring, anxiously. “He’s been a cat for twenty years? He only looks about thirty.”

  January nodded in agreement. “I know. His family have definitely been playing around with their life expectancies. I did ask Tor about it, but all he said was that it came at a terrible cost. I’m guessing it must be a cost less terrible than being a vampire. At least, I’m hoping it is.” She sighed, not liking any of this. Why did it feel like the further down the road to salvation she got, the more problems she encountered?

  “So, Gregory tells us that the last time witches played around with immortality, they created vampires. Now you know another witch who’s tried the same trick, but won’t tell you what the cost was? January, you’ve got to get away from him.”

  January bit her nails, feeling conflicted. “I can’t! He knows so much that could help. I will stay on guard, I promise, but magic might be the only way out of this mess and the only way to find and stop the bounty hunter. They’re a witch! Who else could just cut their trail off the way they did in the woods?”

  “God, why would anyone try to live forever, especially if they knew what happened the last time it was tried!” Ryan was still shaking his head.

  “History has
a habit of repeating itself, right?” January said with a shrug.

  Ryan balled up a fist and slammed it down on the kitchen unit, with such force that January thought it might break apart.

  “No. This is all so bad. Everything feels like it’s closing in and we’re stuck in the middle with no way out. Don’t you think it might be time to run away?”

  January’s mouth fell open as she took in Ryan’s words. “That’s the complete opposite of what you’ve been saying all along! You wanted me to lead the pack and take responsibility. You said that everyone will look out for everyone and we’d all be protected. I’m doing what I can to get us out of this, I really am. Why do you want to run?”

  Ryan ran his hands through his dark blonde undercut, his sleeve tattoos jumping on his biceps. “The pack’s probably going to fall apart anyway. We should leave and let the wolves take over.”

  January frowned, suddenly realising where some of this outburst was stemming from. “What happened at the bar tonight?” She asked.

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle. There were a few teething troubles, but it should all be fine for opening night.”

  January raised an eyebrow. “There won’t be an opening night if you’re suggesting we run for the hills. And Ryan, how come when you want to know everything, I tell you everything, but when I ask you something, you skip the important bit? I know there were werewolves at the bar tonight. I drove by on the way home and saw you throw one out.”

  “And you decided to keep driving?”

  I can’t win! January thought. “You told me on the phone that everything was fine and under control. If you wanted some help, you could have asked. Is it really that difficult, Ryan? Let’s just be straight with each other! I want us to work, I really do, but you’re making it hard.”

  “Well, while we’re talking about being straight with each other, you never told me that someone led you to the bounty hunters. That could have been an important lead we missed!”

  January folded her arms. “Are we really going to argue about that now? I followed a guy because he looked weird. He disappeared and I heard the hunters. That’s all there is to it. He wasn’t a lead, because he vanished into thin air… by turning into a cat.”