Vervain and a Victim Read online

  Just for a moment, I thought I saw genuine amusement flash across Kieran’s face. Then, he stood down. “From what you’ve said - if it’s true - then I think we’re both in the dark when it comes to Jesse Heathen. I’ve checked, and there’s no record of him prior to coming to this town. There’s nothing at all. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that means he probably isn’t who he says he is.”

  I nodded. I’d done my own research and had found the same thing - right after Jesse had annoyed me by disappearing into the shadows and not speaking to me for months on end. I hadn’t been surprised that my best attempts to dig something up on him had failed, but I also hadn’t thought much worse of him than I had before. I had no idea what Jesse was doing in town, or who he was, and I had no way of finding out anything beyond that, unless the man in front of me had some fresh ideas. But I wasn’t banking on him telling me them willingly. Not unless I threw him a bone first.

  “I’ve seen Jesse use a disappearing spell. He can charm a room in a way that’s definitely not natural, but I haven’t actually ever seen him use any magic that was visible. I’ve never seen the colour of his magic. If he is a magician…” I trailed off. I wasn’t sure if I would automatically have been able to see it. Jesse was the one who’d told me to hide my magic in the first place. It would come as no surprise at all if he were a pro at hiding it. But it was undeniably strange that the only magical things he’d done had been, by my aunts’ reckoning, two challenging works of magic.

  Charm spells were difficult, even with one person, because they were usually easy to see straight through. The only people who were good at using coercion like that were the vampires with their glamours… although I was living proof that they didn’t always work. And I also knew that whatever Jesse could do was nothing like the pull of a glamour that wanted to force you into doing its bidding. Jesse’s charm was like slipping into a warm bubble bath.

  “Are you daydreaming in the middle of a conversation with a vampire?” Kieran asked, interrupting my train of thought.

  “Any thoughts of your own to contribute?” I said, on the verge of giving up and considering this meeting more wasted time.

  “I have many thoughts to contribute,” Kieran said, his expression unreadable as he looked at me. “Jesse Heathen can use magic in some way or another. I was warned that he wasn’t everything he appeared to be by the mayor, but beyond that, I’m afraid I haven’t been told much at all. That’s why I came to call on you.”

  “…and tried to glamour me into telling you everything,” I finished.

  The vampire’s mouth twitched up at one side. “You were honest with me, so I will be with you. I know you think I was involved in the murder of that local woman, but I think you might find the real answer involves Jesse Heathen.”

  “I found him standing over her body in the middle of the forest. I’m already aware that Jesse is still suspect number one.”

  Kieran leaned back a little and folded his arms again. “You sound like you’re defending him. What loyalty has he ever shown you?”

  “He did save my life,” I said, grudgingly admitting that much. But even that, I knew, had been done at his convenience, and when it had suited him to do so.

  The vampire’s facial expression let me know he’d just read that information from my face.

  “I just have this sense that he’s not all bad,” I confessed, before wondering why I was telling this probably ancient vampire about the way I felt.

  “Gut feelings are important, especially in witches.” For just a second, Kieran looked almost apologetic. “No matter what kind of person you think he is, a friend would never keep something like the things Jesse is keeping hidden from you.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “When did this conversation turn into a girly heart-to-heart? I thought you were supposed to be tough and intimidating.”

  His mouth crooked up again. “Maybe I’m lulling you into a false sense of security.” He looked up at the stars for a moment before back down at me. “Be careful who you trust around here. I’ve only been in town a few days, and I can already tell that this place is a ticking time bomb. I don’t know what it is that’s bubbling away beneath the surface, but it’s something bad. And I think you already know it’s starting to leak out.”

  I nodded grimly. I did. Two recent murders were bad news in any town’s books. And when it came to murder - like everything else - Wormwood made it weird.

  Kieran rubbed a hand through his short blonde hair. His TinTin t-shirt lifted up and revealed a slim torso that I was sure many women would have been willing to die for. Or at least - become undead for.

  “I think you’ve got to start asking yourself why Jesse Heathen was out in the forest with a corpse, if he won’t tell you himself. I’m just here to do the job I’m being paid for, but your guy is someone who likes to hold people to account for the deals that they’ve made, for better or for worse. If your murder victim did something to double-cross him… how sure are you that he wouldn’t have evened the score?” He raised his eyebrows. “A bad deal can be a devil to get out of.”

  He tilted his head at me thoughtfully, clearly considering something for the first time. “Do you know why your eyes are the colour they are?”

  I shook my head, hoping that he had some kind of answer for me.

  “Don’t look at me. I was hoping you’d say it was just some quirky genetics. It’s just interesting that you have the same colour eyes as the man I’m chasing after.”

  I blinked. “Unlucky, I guess.”

  He shrugged. “Sure.” But I knew it wasn’t a real acceptance of what I’d just said. I thought that Kieran still believed I was holding on to more than I was telling him, and my strange ability to not succumb to his own brand of magic was hardly going to do me any favours.

  Kieran smirked. “You know what the locals have been saying about all of this… beyond the vampire part?”

  I shook my head.

  The smirk turned into a grin. “They’re saying that the fortuneteller went out into the woods to make a deal with the devil and that it went wrong. That’s why she’s dead.”

  “That has been taken wildly out of context. There were a couple of things at the scene of the crime that matched up with an old piece of local folklore. It’s a completely different thing.” I shook my head again. This town seemed to collectively have one heck of an imagination.

  “Is it really?” the vampire said, narrowing his eyes for the briefest of moments.

  I was still thinking that over when someone joined us in the shadows, almost as quietly as the vampire himself had.

  “You’re under arrest,” a familiar voice announced.

  14

  Once Bitten

  Detective Admiral stood in the darkness with us.

  Kieran laughed softly. “For what crime?”

  The detective’s lip curled up. There was a look of disgust on his face. “There was a robbery locally… and you’re the prime suspect.”

  “Where’s your evidence?” The vampire coolly examined his spotless fingernails. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You robbed a blood bank, vampire. You might think that you can get away with coercing the staff, but I know the signs. I’m from Witchwood,” the detective told him, pulling out his handcuffs.

  “You don’t want to do that,” Kieran said, filling his words with compulsion. I recognised it as the same glamour he’d tried to use on me.

  “Yes you do,” I told the detective, pushing the cuffs forwards. They touched the vampire’s wrist, and he drew back with a hiss.

  “Silver-plated,” the detective told him, seeming to snap out of the daze.

  “Nice trick, Detective. But I’ve got a few of my own.” The next second, Kieran was gone, having run so quickly I’d barely seen him move.

  The detective shook his head and sighed when he was gone. “I thought that was the way things would go. If you really want to catch a vampire you need to skip the preamble and go strai
ght for the collar.”

  I frowned. “Then why didn’t you? And… how do you know about vampires? I thought…”

  The detective smiled and made a small sound of amusement. “There’s little point arresting one of their kind for a petty crime. Any punishment gets complicated due to their daytime difficulties. If they think you’re accidentally going to give them a death sentence, then you know they’re going to fight like it. It’s not worth it, especially when no harm was done. A few bags went missing from the local hospital. It’s better than the alternative.”

  “A drained body turning up in the middle of the forest?”

  The detective merely lifted his shoulders. “You asked how I know about vampires and other things that go bump in the night. It’s like I told the vampire, I’m from Witchwood. The supernatural half of that town is run by the shifters and the vampires. It’s supposed to be a big secret from the normal folk, but I’ve seen far too many exotic stray animals and weird crimes to keep turning a blind eye.”

  I frowned again, wondering about something else. “What about…”

  The detective held up a hand to stop me. “If you’re going to ask if I believe in witches and magic and all of that… I know it’s not actually a question of belief.”

  “Then why did you undergo a complete personality transplant that time there was a plague of frogs in my house? And why did you not tell me you knew?” All this time, I’d imagined that a difficult to explain happening had freaked out the detective enough that he’d lost all of the interest he’d initially appeared to have in me. But if he’d known about all of the other stuff all along…

  “It wasn’t the frogs, but they did make me realise that what I was doing was wrong. I work for the police. I should never have implied what I implied. I think I got carried away, and perhaps not by my own…” He trailed off and looked embarrassed.

  “You think I did something to you? Or my aunts did?” I folded my arms. He could not be serious.

  “I know what witches can do.”

  “I wasn’t even a witch then!” I told him, barely keeping my anger contained.

  His eyebrows lifted. “But you are now?”

  “Yes. I am. But I don’t go around putting spells on people, and I would never try to force anyone to have any unnatural feelings about me. Whatever you felt that scared you so much, that was all you.”

  “I have to behave in a professional manner, especially around here where things are not always what they seem.” The detective looked around, probably realising that talking in the shadows with me was hardly backing up his case for professionalism. “Working in this area of the country is difficult. We have to abide by the same laws as everyone else, but you’re a fool if you don’t keep in mind that motives may not always be the same as other towns and cities. Crime is still crime, no matter how it was committed, but I have to keep a more open mind.”

  “Why not tell people in town that you know the truth?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. The look the detective gave me said he knew it, too. If he were to admit to anyone openly that he had knowledge of the supernatural, and the news spread until it reached those who weren’t in the know, he’d be out of the police faster than you could say psychological break.

  “The local disappearances…” I started to say, but he cut me off.

  “I know that there are many reasons for disappearances, and not all of them come with a body to investigate. I do what I can with what evidence I have. That’s all I’m able to do within the law. I have to be able to play the same games as the people around here, or get sucked under. Take our vampire friend back there… he shouldn’t be here. He’s not from this part of the country, and the vampires in Witchwood like to know about all new arrivals. If they find out about him and come over to Wormwood, there could be trouble.”

  “Witches and vampires don’t get along,” I said, remembering what Kieran had mentioned about the magical mistrust.

  The detective gave a curt nod of his head. “That’s why I was willing to let him off for the minor crime, if by doing so it makes a bloodbath less likely.”

  “I don’t think he’ll leave town that easily. He has some kind of business with the mayor,” I told him.

  “The mayor?” Suspicion flared in Sean Admiral’s eyes. Something told me he was thinking back to the night that Jesse Heathen had come to town, allegedly at the mayor’s behest.

  “I think the mayor has secrets of his own. I just have no idea what they are.” I tilted my head at the detective. “When you came to ask me to look into the folklore… do you seriously think that it might have something to do with what happened to Bridgette?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s probably already obvious, but this case isn’t going to plan. In all truth, we have a lot of leads, but they all lead to nowhere. I’m trying to establish a motive first, and rule out anything… weird.” He sighed. “Speaking of weird…” For a second, he looked caught in doubt as to whether to say his next words.

  I clenched my teeth, hating that this felt like just another secret being kept from me.

  Finally, he nodded, making his decision. “We found animal hair on the body. We already know that the blood was removed prior to the, uh, damage inflicted on her neck, but it looks like a wild animal was the one who caused it.” He looked at me seriously.

  “What kind of wild animal?”

  The detective glanced away. “That is the million dollar question. The analysis came back as it belonging to a grizzly bear.” His grey eyes returned to my face. “Now I’m under pressure to issue a warning about a possible escaped zoo animal.”

  “You know it’s not that,” I said, stating the obvious.

  He nodded. “I do, but it doesn’t make it any less strange. Shifters and vampires stick to Witchwood. It’s concerning, to say the least, that one of them may have come into Wormwood Forest and…”

  “Savaged the corpse of a fortuneteller?”

  He looked uncomfortable with that thought. “If it had happened in the evening, I could have put it down to moon madness and predatory instincts. But this all took place in the day. I just can’t help feeling it was intentional, perhaps to lead us into drawing the wrong conclusions. The whole setup of this murder is confusing.”

  I bit my lip. “Kieran said that the locals are saying it was a deal with a devil that went wrong. That’s what happened to Bridgette.” I looked sideways at the detective to see what his thoughts on that were. Perhaps devils came complete with their own pet bear?

  He shook his head. “Whoever started that rumour is probably also responsible for that nonsense about the plumber. Who’s Kieran?”

  “The vampire you scared away.”

  The detective gave me a more thoughtful look, but he didn’t say anything more.

  “He said he wasn’t the one who exsanguinated her,” I continued.

  “That seems plausible given the victim’s time of death.”

  “So… she was stabbed, someone stole her blood, and then a bear-shifter came along. It’s a heck of a way to die.”

  The detective gave me a look that said he knew there was no logical explanation that the general non-supernatural public would accept. “I’ve been thinking it would be best if we don’t focus on what occurred after the victim was deceased. The cause of death was the stab wound to her back inflicted with a sharp instrument, most likely a knife. That definitely had nothing to do with any animal attack.”

  “And stabbing someone in the back is an all-too human thing to do,” I concurred.

  “Especially to someone living the kind of life Bridgette Spellsworth apparently was.”

  I waited for the detective to continue, but his eyes darted around the empty street we were standing in.

  “Come back to the shop,” I told him. “If… that’s a better place to talk? And, if you need someone to talk to.” I was babbling now. Something about the detective coming clean about knowing the truth about the unseen world had left me feeling mixed up.

  Se
an looked at me with his serious grey eyes, and I saw my own swirling thoughts reflected back at me. We were sharing the same moment.

  He cleared his throat. “That would be sensible. There is something I need to ask you regarding information that has arisen during my investigation. It would be prudent to discuss it somewhere where we can’t be so easily overheard.”

  “Of course,” I said, any fantasy I’d had about the detective wanting to rebuild bridges disappearing in a puff of smoke. This was purely business.

  It didn’t take us long to walk back to the shop. When I unlocked the door and let us both in, the house was dark and quiet. I wasn’t sure if my aunts were in bed or had gone out, but I sensed that we were alone. Even the cats were elsewhere.

  “What have you found?” I asked, figuring that any preamble was unnecessary. The detective had already made his intentions clear.

  “Bridgette’s business was not everything it appeared to be. She kept some excellent business records, but I don’t believe that fortunetelling was the source of her most reliable income. According to her accounts, she’d been receiving monthly payments from what seems like half of Wormwood dating back several years. Every now and then she takes on a new client and then, remarkably, none of them ever stop paying for these ‘monthly readings’ - as they are listed in her bookkeeping. Either Bridgette was so talented that her clients believed the service that they were paying for was worth every penny, or…”

  “…or those payments were for something else,” I finished for him.

  “You knew Bridgette. Do you think she was a genuine psychic, or a fraud?”

  “I don’t know that much about that kind of ability,” I confessed. I was still in over my head where most supernatural things were concerned. Going by what the detective had said, he’d known about all of this stuff longer than I had.

  “We all have our instincts. What does yours tell you?” he pressed, leaning in across the small table we were sitting at.