Death's Endless Enchanter: Mystery (January Chevalier Supernatural Mysteries Book 3) Read online

  It was something she’d think about later.

  “Why would there be a death curse here? Is someone working against the pack? What have you done?” Rolf enquired, making his questions sound more like accusations.

  January couldn’t help but laugh.

  His face turned dark with shock and anger.

  “If you ask any of your fellow pack members, they’ll fill you in. I told you that I’m not keeping any secrets here. They know the risks of associating with me, and they know the threats that we all face. You’ll have to make your own decision about whether you stay or go after you know,” she said.

  “But… who… how?” Rolf stammered.

  January didn’t know whether she found it funny or deeply concerning that someone with Rolf’s history found her own pack more than he could comprehend. “I’m afraid I’ve got some things to figure out, so you’ll have to ask around for yourself. Maybe you should go and see my second, Ryan Eridge,” she suggested, trying not to smile at the third degree Rolf would be given over any responsibility he had in the demise of the past two packs he’d been a part of.

  “You’ll be hearing from me again,” Rolf said, probably meaning it as a warning.

  January just waved a hand in his face. “Sure! I’ll try to fit you in in-between my autograph signing sessions.”

  She and Joe stood in the doorway and watched while Rolf stalked back down the driveway to wherever he’d parked his car. January’s nose twitched when she thought about how the tiger had undoubtedly been hoping to catch her doing something wrong, so he could report her to the Board. She sniffed.

  He probably had enough to fill several reports.

  “So, what is all this?” Joe asked, stepping out of the house and looking up at the red painted sigils in confusion. January sighed and stuck her hands on her hips.

  “It’s enough to make me lose my deposit,” she joked, but Joe didn’t laugh. She bit her lip. “It’s that nutty magician, King Bob,” she explained and carried on before Joe could state the obvious. “I don’t know who took the spell apart. They did it well. There was no shockwave.” She turned and looked at the shattered hazel wands, perhaps indicative that the spell breaker had used force, but then… why did their magic not remain? All there had been was that little flash… and she had to be wrong about what she’d felt.

  “Hey…” She said, seeing an envelope tucked in the side of her front door. She grabbed it and flipped it open, ignoring Joe’s wince. She could see that it wasn’t cursed.

  Dear Adversary,

  If you’re reading this then that is VERY annoying indeed. Rest assured, your demise is still imminent - for I am the best, the most awesome, the un-defeatable… King Bob. Also, someone called me up and offered me money if I killed you. Not that I care about money. I don’t need money. I have magic! No one is better than me! Anyway, it was a lot of money, so I’m taking it. All hail me!

  Ta Ta!

  Bob El Muerto (The King)

  January groaned and crumpled the letter up in her hand. It made sense that The Clan had seen the opportunity Bob was offering and had decided to take it. They’d have to be blind to have missed the way he’d been throwing around death threats and curses. She sighed, wishing that these old vampires weren’t so quick to seize business opportunities.

  After this second attack, it looked like Bob might be a real problem after all. She could no longer brush him off now he was funded by her enemies. It might be time for King Bob to hand in his crown.

  She gritted her teeth and realised that she needed to speak to one person she’d rather not talk to right now - especially considering how successful the band they both played in was turning out to be.

  She shook her head and wished Joe goodbye, her lips barely grazing his cheek. It was a far cry from the reckless passion of the previous night, but her mind was already elsewhere. She turned back to the house and looked up at the symbols once more, broken by an unknown entity.

  Who was it that kept saving her life?

  15

  The cool night breeze blew January’s curling blonde hair forwards. She caught the scent of rosemary in the spring air, as she walked through the nondescript housing estate. She’d made it halfway up the stepping stone garden path when the front door swung open.

  “I’d ask you in, but my last visitor didn’t seem to care about formalities.” Leah folded her arms and leant against the frame of the front door.

  January had opened her mouth to ask about this other visitor when Gregory’s blonde head poked around the corner of Leah’s living room. “Oh,” was all January could think to say. She walked in and accepted that this night was going to be even less fun than she’d first imagined.

  “Why did you stay here, Leah?” She asked, as she walked through the house that had once belonged to the murderous drummer of the covers band she and Leah had been a part of. The house had suffered some pretty bad damage when the wolf pack and local witches had decided to fight over who got to kill January. It was the one time she’d been grateful that so many people wanted her dead.

  “I don’t know… it has character,” Leah said, waving a hand at a recently re-plastered wall. January could still see the yellow pulsing light of the coven’s magic, marking the house. “From what you said on the phone, your house isn’t looking much better.”

  “My house? What’s happened to my house?” Gregory asked, more curious than concerned.

  “I thought that was why you were here,” January said, looking at Leah in confusion.

  Leah threw her hands up in the air, shooting Gregory her trademark naffed off look. “I’m starting to have my suspicions that your vampire beau might have a thing for me because I sure as hell did not invite him.”

  “Actually, I was hanging out by your house, January, to see if that wolf came by again. I saw you go out. I followed and figured out where you were going. You’re really easy to follow, by the way. Shouldn’t magical Yoda have taught you how to magically disappear, or something like that?”

  January groaned and glared at Gregory’s cheery expression. “Next time we meet in the daytime,” she said to Leah.

  Gregory pouted. “We all know you’d miss my company too much. That’s why you make it so easy to follow you.”

  January felt a headache start behind her eyes.

  “Can we talk about the curse?” Leah said, sitting down opposite January, hoping to cut Gregory out.

  “Curse? Hey… on my house? Why does no one ever tell me anything?” Gregory idly flicked a speck of dust off his dark grey shirt.

  “Probably because you stick your nose so far into other people’s business that everyone assumes you already know,” January bit back and then regretted it. She was giving him exactly what he wanted - attention.

  Gregory grinned, shifting along the sofa so he was next to her. “My life’s work is complete. People believe I am omniscient.”

  January watched as Leah’s hand balled and then released. It was strange to think that to her, Gregory must be like an annoying teenager. January frowned. Come to think of it, Gregory came across that way to most people.

  “It was that magician who thinks he’s the King,” January said, attempting to sweep Gregory’s ego under the rug.

  “What kind of curse was it? Voodoo? High magick? Blood magick?” Leah asked.

  January sighed, thinking of the hazel wands. “High… probably. But the symbols looked different. There wasn’t a seal this time,” she explained.

  Leah shrugged it off. “Sounds like the spell was less tailored. Where was it painted?”

  “Above my door,” January confirmed, and Leah nodded.

  “Painted? Painted on the house?” Gregory cut in, but January shushed him.

  “You’re always telling me how much of the property around here you own. This is hardly going to damage your profits.”

  Gregory muttered something about his landlord’s reputation, but January ignored him.

  “So it would have killed the first
person who walked through the door,” Leah said, confirming January’s deduction.

  “Or the first person to walk up to the door.” January thought of Rolf, a tad wistfully. It was fortunate, she supposed, that he was still alive. If he got himself killed within a couple of days of being in her pack, the Board would definitely have a few concerns.

  “The spell was broken apart,” January said and then bit her tongue. There was more that she wanted to say to Leah about that, but now wasn’t the time. “This was left behind.” She pulled the crumpled letter out of her jeans pocket and passed it to Leah. Gregory craned his neck to see, probably wishing he was sat next to the other vampire. Even he wasn’t foolhardy enough to try and snuggle up with Leah.

  “Wow, it would be a joke if he wasn’t so strong,” Leah said, her tone disgusted.

  January rubbed her temples. “Tell me about it. Anyway, I’d still be very grateful if you volunteered to wipe him off the map. He’d never expect it,” she said, still annoyed that Leah hadn’t stomped all over this new threat when she had a much better handle on destructive magic.

  Leah tutted. “You’re The Chosen One. You’ll never learn to use your magic unless you face challenges.”

  “Thanks a bunch.”

  “I agree with Leah,” Gregory said. Both women turned to stare at him, having momentarily forgotten he was there. “You need a proper challenge! That challenge should be going after The Clan. We’ve got someone who’s been in their inner circle! What better chance are we going to get?”

  He was met with groans all round.

  “She’s probably still in their inner circle,” January argued back. “Five minutes with us is hardly going to change centuries and centuries of allegiance to them.”

  Leah’s face didn’t change.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I can be quite charming,” Gregory said, flippantly. “Even if she’s on their side, she’d probably still lead us to them - only it would be a trap.”

  “I’m sitting right here,” Leah said, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing down her leggings.

  “But then we’d surprise them,” Gregory said.

  January shot him a glare. Did he really want to get killed so badly?

  “Do you really want to get killed so badly?” Leah asked.

  Gregory raised his eyebrows. “No, I was just testing and working through ideas. If we’re going to get out of this, we need to think of something that will catch them out,” he said. January wondered how he could sound so positive when he said that.

  “You can’t catch them out,” Leah said, just as January’s mobile started to ring.

  “Hello?” She said, frowning at the private number.

  “Hello, January,” the voice on the end of the phone said. The voice was familiar, but the use of her name was not. “I thought it was about time that we had a conversation.”

  All of the colour drained from January’s face. She wondered if they really were watching her all the time, or if they just had flashes of insight - much like Tor. “What would you like to talk about?” She kept her voice guarded.

  Leah and Gregory sat watching her, both looking like they’d been carved from marble.

  “You were offered several opportunities to end our arrangement. Your new, unusual status may have interested us, if you were seen as compliant, but it’s clear that you can’t follow orders the way you used to.” January winced at the icy tone. “There are no more ways out. This is the end.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” January said, feeling sick but trying to hide it. The voice on the other end of the phone had never expressed such a personal interest before. It looked like The Clan may finally be focusing their attention on her.

  “One more thing. How many of your friends do you think you can trust?”

  The phone went dead.

  January looked at the handset, wondering if the call had really happened.

  The silence in the room felt like a heavy blanket. She knew that Gregory and Leah must have heard every word of the call with their vampire hearing. No one wanted to say anything. It felt too final.

  She bit her lip and thought about the last sentence that had been spoken. She knew it was probably just a classic trick to sow unrest, but what if it was something more? She considered Leah, but her allegiance had always been in question. It was likely that the person on the phone hadn’t been talking about her. Had someone turned against her, or was there someone she knew, who’d been working with The Clan from the very start? Her eyes fell on Gregory and she wondered. He’d been pretty blasé about being her bounty hunting target. Had he ever taken the threat seriously, or had he known all along and played the game accordingly?

  “I need to go,” she said and walked out of the house, her limbs stiff. At every moment she expected to hear the tiniest sound indicating that one of the vampires was at her back, ready to rip open her throat. The hairs on her arm stood up. She tried not to look back, but kept her senses sharp.

  It already felt like she was living on borrowed time.

  January blinked at the mass of people stood outside of her bakery. It took her a few moments to process that they were queuing. She hesitated, wondering why they were waiting. It couldn’t be her customer service. She’d spent the last week working in a daze, wondering if every breath would be her last. Good cake will out, she thought to herself and pasted a sloppy attempt at a smile on her lips, before facing the queue of people.

  “Are you making the chocolate cake today? Can I reserve a slice?” A man dressed in a business suit called to her.

  “Yes, but I haven’t even made the cakes yet! Everything I bake is fresh. You know that,” she explained, baffled as to why they were all here.

  “Sure, but can we reserve? I’d like to pick my piece up later but don’t want you to be sold out… as usual,” he added, sounding huffy.

  January bit her lip, not knowing whether to smile or frown. The recent demand for her cakes had been rising, and she hadn’t quite figured out a way to keep up yet. Currently, she spent all of her time rushing between serving customers and baking. Even then, she often had to explain to customers that their favourite cakes were already gone. It was almost enough to make her consider reawakening Simon’s automatic baking spells. But Simon had been using her recipes to bake cakes before. The only difference between them was that she baked by hand and didn’t add any compulsion spells into the mix to force her customers to come back. They just came back on their own, she realised, still staring at the queue of people, wondering what to do.

  “Okay, I’ll get a sheet of paper, and you can pass it around. Write your name and your order and I’ll keep it by for you,” she promised.

  A row of beaming faces looked back at her. She suddenly found her forced smile had become more genuine. A flutter of joy raced through her chest, as she felt the same old calling that told her this was what she was meant to be doing with her life. She shook herself and walked through the door to grab some paper and a pen. If only life were that simple.

  It was only an hour after opening that January realised her cakes were already starting to run out. With the amount of reserved orders she’d received, she was already down a few cakes. Her eyes darted to the kitchen while she served another customer. She wondered when there’d be a reprieve, so she could go and bake some more. The queue that was nearly out of the door made her think it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

  “Hi, January,” a cheery voice said.

  January turned to face her next customer, who turned out to be no other than Charlie Rose, the owner of Madame Rose’s Tearooms.

  “How are things going for you? I can see you’re busy,” Charlie said, her voice clipped and polite.

  January opened her mouth to ask about the tearooms and thought better of it. If Charlie was able to stop work to visit her…

  “Too busy, actually,” January confessed. “I’m thinking of hiring a couple of baristas to serve customers while I bake all day, but I don’t think that’s the solution
. These premises are too small, and it’s impossible to find space for any more cake - beyond replacing the ones which sell out.” She took a breath, facing Charlie’s quizzically raised eyebrow. “I was wondering if I could send some cakes to you to sell? I’d let everyone know you’re selling cakes from this bakery. Your place is a much nicer venue to eat cake at than in here. This bakery is really only good for takeaway.” She paused. “That is, if you wanted to sell my cakes?” She added, hating to have presumed.

  Charlie paused for a moment, but then her face split into a grin. “There, I knew the success wouldn’t have gone to your head! I almost let Lucy convince me.”

  January spluttered indignantly at the mention of Lucy’s name.

  Charlie’s grin tweaked up a little higher at one corner. “I’m kidding. I was actually popping by to wish you well, and to have a slice of your chocolate cake, but I can see it’s all gone,” she said.

  January looked down at the empty cake board, sadly. “I know. That’s why it would be great to work together,” she said and Charlie nodded.

  “You come and talk to me when you get a moment spare,” she said, pointing to the last slice of a toffee and walnut cake. “I think I’ve held the queue up enough already,” she winked at January.

  A muffled groan of disappointment went through the queue when January removed the last slice of cake.

  “It looks like we’d better work out our business arrangement fast, or you’re going to have a riot on your hands,” Charlie commented.

  16

  “What are you doing?” Joe asked, walking into the kitchen after January had yelled for him to let himself in.

  She looked down at the amount of frosting she’d managed to get on her top and wondered if she, or the cake, was wearing more. “I’m baking,” she said, staring at the twin chocolate cakes on the work surface and wondering if they would taste just as good tomorrow. She’d done the maths. While freshly baked on the day would always be best, she’d realised that there simply wasn’t time. Madame Rose’s cakes would be baked the previous evening. Then, she’d spend the whole day baking in the bakery, while her new employees handled the customers and let her know which cakes were selling out. So far, it was working great.