Хармони Харт - Basic Witch

He frowned. “You’re right. I'd feel better if you had someone stay with you for a few days."

"Yeah?" Oh, sweet stars above. Say that someone will be you.

"Mortimer has a sofa. I can sleep there tonight," He cast a sidelong glance at me. "If you don't mind a strange man bedding down in your newly inherited apartment."

"No! Not at all. I'd love it if you slept over," I replied, not even masking the eagerness in my voice. Tone it down, Gemma. "I mean, after the day I've had, some company would be reassuring," I said. That's better. Play it cool.

"It's just..." he pressed his lips together, "I can't leave my familiar alone all night. I’d never hear the end of it. Would you mind if I brought him over? He’s a cat."

"Of course not. I love cats!"

"What about Titus?" He peered down at her.

"Titus loves cats, too. She'll be fine."

"Only if you're certain," he said.

“ I do not! I do not love cats ,” Titus complained.

“How do you know? You've never even met another cat.”

“I know enough to know I don't like them.”

“But you are a cat.”

“Irrelevant.”

“You will be nice, or I won't share my breakfast with you tomorrow.”

“See? This new cat isn't even here yet, and he's already coming between us. I hate cats. Hate them!”

I rolled my eyes at her and tilted my face toward Beau with a smile. “I’m certain.”

The walk back to Montcrief’s took longer than I expected, but I didn’t mind. How could I, when every step through the cold October air added to the time I spent cuddled up with Beau? It had been a long time since I’d had any real interest in a man. Beau had me feeling as giddy as a teenage girl on her first date. I wasn’t going to let anything—not even a pending murder investigation—ruin that feeling for me.

It did strike me as odd that Coven Headquarters was so close to both Montcrief’s and Darkwoods Diner, but the distance between the shop and the diner seemed so great. As we made our way back to my new home, Beau explained.

“Coven Headquarters actually doesn’t exist on the surface of Salem. It’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. The founders designed it that way—hidden in plain sight—to serve as a safe haven for the early Salem witches in the event of another werewolf uprising. So if you’re a witch—” he paused, throwing me an apologetic look—“a witch who has passed her Basic Witch Exams, at least—you can access Coven Headquarters from pretty much anywhere in town. All it takes is enough wall space to create a doorway, a wand, and the right incantation. The wards around Coven Headquarters can sense witch blood, and won’t open for anyone else.”

“So someone like me needs an escort to come and go from Coven Headquarters?”

“Until you’ve proven you can control your most basic powers, yes. But something tells me you won’t have any trouble finding volunteers to accompany you.”

“So how do all of the Council members get in? The ones who aren’t witches?”

“Council Chambers serves both as a meeting hall and a courtroom. It’s not actually part of Coven Headquarters. We just use the lobby to access different parts of Salem more quickly. You can leave headquarters the same way you enter, but having a clear intention is much more important upon exit. Visualize your destination in your mind’s eye, and leave no doubt about where you want to go. Otherwise, things could turn disastrous.”

I started to ask him to elaborate, but as we rounded a corner and came to a stop across the street from Montcrief’s, my mind flashed back to the memory of Mortimer’s body lying cold, stiff and lifeless beneath me.

And as a dark, hooded figure appeared in the doorway, his broad jaw stretched into a macabre smile against his bare, bone-white skull as he carried Morty’s corpse out into a wooden carriage, I was certain the chill spreading through my body wasn’t because of the weather. The figure paused to adjust the scythe strapped to his shoulder and caught my eye, his hollow sockets trained directly on my face. He lifted his free arm and wriggled his bony fingers in my direction, and my mouth went as dry as sandpaper.

Death himself had come for Morty. And from the looks of things, he’d set his sights on me, too.

4

Evening, Brian!” Beau called. My feet dragged on the ground as we approached the grim reaper. He placed Morty’s body in his cart and turned to greet us.

“Professor! What a coinkydink! I was just thinking about stopping by the winery when I got the call about, uh…” He hooked a bony thumb toward Morty’s body. His voice was rough and full of gravel, a stark contrast to his friendly, boisterous demeanor.

I leaned in and whispered to Beau, praying death didn’t have the supersonic hearing like werewolves. “Um, is that The Grim Reaper?”

Titus bristled, backing into my ankle. “ Oh, spell nah! ”

The corner of Beau’s mouth turned up as he angled his face toward mine. “ A grim reaper. But he’s the only one in Salem. Brian is the town Coroner.

“Brian?” I raised a brow at the shadowy skeleton standing before us.

“He’s harmless,” Beau insisted. “In fact, I should check out the apartment upstairs. Wait here. Brian will keep you company. I’ll be right back.”

“Are you leaving me with—?” Before I could finish the question, Beau had disappeared through the doorway, abandoning me to make small talk with Brian.

“I’m going with him! ” Titus sprang after Beau and vanished into the shop, kicking the door closed behind her.

“ Oh, now you like him! ” I protested. “ Traitor. ” I pivoted and gave the grim reaper a weak smile.

“Howdy there!” He called. “You must be Gemma!”

“Nice to—” My introduction was interrupted when Brian spread his arms wide and lunged at me. I cringed, squeezing my eyes shut as I braced myself for… a hug ? His spindly fingers pressed against my back in a hearty embrace. Not exactly what I expected from the literal embodiment of death.

“Whoops!” He backed up with an awkward laugh—if you could even call it that. It was more like a fragile death rattle rising in volume and intensity from the back of his throat. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! Prolly should’ve asked first, but I just get so excited about making new friends!” He opened his hands out to each side with a shrug. “What can I say? I’m a hugger!”

“Wow. Um...” I brushed a loose piece of hair from my forehead and tucked it back into my up-do. “It’s okay. Really. I just wasn’t sure what was happening at first.”

“Aw, man!” Brian’s jaw dropped open, and he dropped his head back in frustration. “Not you, too!” His shoulders sagged as his head dropped forward again.

“What?” I asked. “What did I do?”

Brian simply shook his head, refusing to look at me. I waited patiently. Sometimes people just need to be given the space to open up. Maybe Death Himself was no different. Finally, he spoke.

“You thought I was going to take your soul, didn’t you?” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his black robe and scuffed a boot-clad foot against the ground. “Everyone always thinks that.”

“No, I…” I sighed. This was usually the part where I told a little white lie to avoid hurting someone’s feelings or avoid some nasty emotional backlash like them not liking me anymore. But as I stood there before a disappointed Death, I felt compelled to tell him the truth. “Actually… yes. But it’s nothing against you, personally. I mean, in the human world, that’s what the Grim Reaper does. I wasn’t expecting you to be so… nice.”