Хармони Харт - Basic Witch

“She makes a good point, Otto,” the troll said.

“You stay out of this, Troll. I’m the one with the badge here.”

“For fang’s sake!” The troll stomped his boot on the ground, causing all of the trinkets in the shop to vibrate under the weight of his foot. “I AM NOT A TROLL!”

Titus bristled and scrambled up to perch on my shoulder. Thankfully, she remembered to retract her claws this time.

“I,” Not-A-Troll stood as tall as his height would allow him to and squared his shoulders, a look of pride settling in, “am a dwarf. And my name is Christopher, as if you need reminding.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Detective Otto rolled his eyes and gave Christopher a dismissive pat on the head. “Dwarf, troll. Same difference. He pulled a notepad from his shirt pocket, scribbled something on it, then tore the page off and handed it to Christopher. “Here, Troll. Make yourself useful. Send an owl for the coroner.”

Christopher snatched the note from him and started toward the front door, pausing to look over his shoulder at me. “Don’t worry, Miss.” His eyes softened as he spoke. “I know you didn’t kill Morty. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”

I managed a weak smile. “Thank you. It’s nice to know someone believes me.”

“And make it snappy!” Detective Otto called out after Christopher. “And you,” he pointed a finger at my nose and balled a fist over his baton in a sad attempt at a show of authority. “You don’t move a muscle. Not until this crime scene is secured.”

I fixed my gaze on him and crossed my arms over my chest. Titus extended a paw and rested it on my cheek.

“I believe you, too. ”

“I would hope so. You were here, after all.”

“Who was here?” The Detective asked.

“No one. Just me, my cat, and him.” I looked down at the body, a sudden sadness overwhelming me. I was so caught up in what was happening to me that I hadn’t stopped to think about the life the man left behind. Did he have a family? Would someone miss him? “What did you say his name was?”

“Mortimer Montcrief,” a voice called out from the crowd. “Earth Witch and Sophisticated Purveyor of Magical Goods.” I glanced over to see a tall, wiry blond man wearing round glasses and a light pink bowtie edging his way toward us. “His passing is a great loss to The Coven.”

“I’m sorry, I think my blood sugar must be low. I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Did you say something about a witch? And a coven?”

“Indeed, I did. Gilmer Gayle, Assistant to the Mayor and High Council Delegate, at your service. Or more specifically, The Coven’s service.” The man came to a stop in front of me and extended his hand. “Gemma Bradbury, I take it?”

I shook his hand. “How do you know my—”

He turned to Detective Otto and arched a brow. “I’m under strict orders to escort Ms. Bradbury to Coven Headquarters to meet with the High Council at once.”

“Not so fast, Gayle. This young lady is a suspect in an ongoing murder investigation. She’s not going anywhere.”

“Psssh,” Gilmer replied. “Murder? Mortimer Montcrief was nearly a century old. He probably dropped dead from the sheer frustration of living.”

“I’m the law in this town! I decide whether it’s murder or not.”

Gilmer cast a look of exasperation my way. “Detective.” He pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket, removed his glasses and set to work polishing the lenses as he spoke. “You are not the law in this town. At best, you are a legislative enforcement officer.” Gilmer fixed his glasses back on his face and frowned. “Though I continually struggle to understand why an angel like Chief Ward would trust a bumbling, mildly racist moose shifter to protect and serve.”

“Hey! I—”

Gilmer shot a smirk at Detective Otto. “As of now, Ms. Bradbury is officially in The Coven’s custody. Any questions you have for her can wait until tomorrow, and will be asked only in the presence of her Coven-appointed attorney.” He stepped next to me and offered his elbow. “Now then. If you’ll come with me.”

I stood motionless for a moment, contemplating the two choices that lied ahead of me. Gilmer seemed nice enough, if not a little bossy, but his repeated references to witches and covens gave me pause. I wasn’t exactly excited about the prospect of leaving with a complete stranger who may or may not be completely insane. But the idea of staying with Detective Otto as he persistently tried to pin a maybe–murder on me was even more frightening. Titus jumped down into my arms and nudged her cold nose against my cheek.

“I think we should go with the nerdy guy.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the mysterious bookcase that brought us here, wondering what the chances were that it would take us home, too. Suddenly, I had an idea. I nuzzled my face against Titus’s head in what I hoped looked like a show of affection for my runt of a cat . But in reality, I just wanted to be very sure that she heard what I said next.

I drew my arms in tighter, holding on to her as tightly as I could manage without crushing her, and whispered, “Trust me.”

“Okay. But we’re going with the nerdy guy, right?”

I flung myself backward toward the bookcase, clutching Titus to my chest as I spun around and threw the entire weight of my body against it, shoving back with all my might. Which, to be fair, wasn’t very much. Occasional visits to pilates and yoga didn’t exactly prepare me for moving built-in furniture.

The bookcase didn’t budge.

I boosted Titus onto a shelf to free both hands, dug my Uggs into the floor and heaved against the bookcase with a decidedly unfeminine growl.

Not. An. Inch.

“Ms. Bradbury, this isn’t the time for rearranging furniture,” Gilmer said. “I’m sure you’re quite confused about this entire situation. I assure you there is a reasonable explanation for all of this, and you’ll have all the answers you need in time. But right now, I really must insist you come with me.”

I slumped against the bookcase, defeated, and let out a huge sigh. “Starbucks is going to close before I get my Halloween PSL.”

“Yes, well. We can chat about astronomy some other time. Right now, we really must be going. Chop chop.” He extended his elbow again.

Another glance over at old Mortimer Montcrief lying dead on the floor at Detective Otto’s feet was all I needed to give me the strength to follow Gilmer into the great unknown. Whatever fate awaited me at Coven Headquarters had to be better than staying here with a dead guy and an overzealous cop. With a shrug and a silent prayer that I would wake up to find this was all a really weird dream, I looped my arm through Gilmer’s and allowed him to lead me to the front door. Just as we were about to exit onto the sidewalk, a solid ball of black fluff rammed into the back of my leg.

“Great Sekhmet’s ghost! You forgot me! I can’t believe you were just going to leave me there all alone with that crazy moose and all of those gawking onlookers. I could have been catnapped!”

“Oh, hell. I’m sorry.” I stooped down, lifted my trembling cat into my arms, and engaged our emergency petting protocol in an attempt to calm her down. “I was a little preoccupied. It won’t happen again.”

I tried not to let it show, but out of everything that had happened that night—stumbling into a hidden room, falling over a dead body, being accused of murder, and realizing I was trapped in a strange place—the fact that my freaking cat was talking to me was the thing that might finally send me over the edge.

2

One look at the town surrounding the little shop, and I knew I wasn’t in Oregon anymore. Even in the dark, I could tell the picturesque little town was like something out of a Hallmark movie, with its cobblestone streets lined with tall, brightly colored Tudor buildings and flickering gas lamps. At the end of the street, a thick canopy of moss-covered weeping willows arched above a massive, flowing fountain and an arrangement of black wrought iron benches, the kind of place meant for romantic proposals and reading for hours on end.