Witch For Hire (Witch For Hire 1)

Cristobal reaches out and touches me. The pathway between us opens. “I see it, too.”

I shudder. It’s unnatural him using my powers as his own. It makes me fear what I’ll gain from him.

“It’s been secured,” Cristobal states.

I rush from the car, grateful for the fresh air, and the buffer Percival and Marcellus present. We make our way to the tall tree, and I wince. Its crying tears at my soul. The negativity energy left behind by the attack is doing its damndest to stain this peaceful place. The blood spilled in anger has soaked into the ground, harming the tree.

The evil travels down toward the roots, seeking a place to latch on and linger permanently. Kneeling, I touch the base of the bark, picturing cleansing white energy. The white light banishes the darkness as I clear the space and cast it out. The wave I’ve sent from the tree and its family linked to it through the root system is overwhelming. Most know trees are alive, but don’t know they’re actually alive.

“The witch was careful to cloak their identity. They came with the youngling and stood by while he committed the murder. The residue we’re seeing is almost certainly from a cloaking or glamour spell, possibly a combination of both. It’s why no one saw it happen or the perpetrator leave.”

“What did they look like?” Cristobal asks.

I shake my head. “Trees don’t see the way we do. I’d imagine whoever it is must be attractive and charming to ensnare their victims.”

“This stinks of plotting,” Marcellus growls.

I thank the tree, and lean back, hands on my thighs.

“Can you get anything else?” Percival asks.

“No. They’re cautious, and I can’t track them without something that belongs to them, or they’ve at least touched. At this point, I’m not sure if the youngling is in control of himself.”

“Obviously,” Marcellus says.

“They might be a puppet for their master or the witch.”

“What could a witch gain from this? It’s no secret our kind steer clear of one another. You worship nature, and we by definition are unnatural, dead yet not,” Percival says.

“Which is what worries me,” I admit. “No decent witch would be involved in this. A witch desperate enough for power to turn to Black Magic might do it for the right price or promise. If that’s the case, we’re in trouble.”

Cristobal places his hands behind his back. “It’s time we turn our attention to the other Courts and start building a suspect list.”

“I’ll start one tonight with Miles,” Percival says. “Can you look into this on your side of things, Lou?”

“Oh, are we asking for witchy favors?” I ask, staring at Marcellus. “Imagine that.”

He narrows his gaze, and I smirk. “I’ll be happy to help out, Perci. If I hear any whispers, I’ll let you know.”

“It’s good to have a witch on our side, isn’t it?” Percival pats Marcellus on the shoulder, and I wink. I’m going to enjoy taking the piss out of him at every turn.

What’s life without its little pleasures?

***

I’ve never worked a longer day in my life. If Tante Odette thinks suddenly showing up and being counted is going to earn her brownie points with Mémé, she’s wrong. I’ve felt her eyes on me all day as we work in virtual silence. The bell ringing above the door is a relief. I step forward to greet the young twenty-something girl with dark circles under her eyes and unkempt black hair. Her face is gaunt and drawn, and her aura is thin. As if it lacks the usual substance. I frown. Something is literally sucking the life out of this girl.

I step forward. “Can I help you?”

Her large blue eyes dart around the room. “Umm, I think so. I … uh … I heard this was the place to come if you have certain problems you need to be dealt with.” She toys with the belled sleeves of her black button-up dress. Her sparkly black nail polish is chipped, and her nails have been chewed down to nothing.

“You heard wrong.”

I turn back toward Tante Odette, appalled by her swift dismissal.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” I snap. This girl needs help. I can all but smell the fear surrounding her. There’s a darkness lurking inside of her. She must be battling every second to be here.

“Come, let me get you some tea and take you to the backroom to talk.”