Page 12 of Bright Dark Curses

I kneeled by the front and turned on my phone’s flashlight. On the outside, it was the kind of trunk musicians used to store equipment. On the inside, who knew? A trove of treasure? An evil doll? A portal to hell?

I sniffed the air delicately but got no whiff of blood or decomposition, which was to be expected since I was a witch, not a shifter. A closer look at the area around the latches revealed spots slightly lighter than the rest of the trunk, and glossy rather than matte. If blood had been used, it had been mixed into a real potion; otherwise, it’d be as black as the trunk.

There were two ways to create harm by touch through passive magical means: a dark magic potion created with the intent to produce certain damage when touched, or a ward. With the potion, you simply poured it over the item you expected your victim to touch. It was easier to do, since you could create the potion elsewhere and bring it with you, but it had several downsides. For one, the magic in the potion would start to dissipate once left in the open air, especially during the day. Second, there was limited harm that could be done through a potion.

“Is it magic?” Brett asked. He was keeping his distance from the trunk. I couldn’t blame him.

“Let’s find out.”

Placing my fingertips as close to the glossy discoloration as I dared, I awakened my magic. My spell wouldn’t work as well without touching the affected area directly, but hopefully there was still enough magic charging the potion to be detectable this close.

Closing my eyes, I focused my intention.

Detect.

In normal circumstances, a bit of power was all that was needed, but I wanted to make sure I detected as much of the potion as possible in an effort to get a hint of what it could do, so I poured a higher amount than usual into the incantation.

My fingertips stung as my magic interacted with the surface of the trunk, then bounced back with a familiar tingling.

I sat back, opened my eyes, and studied the latches. “Definitely magic.” Sadly, detecting spells couldn’t give any hint of what kind.

Brett let out a low curse. “Can you neutralize it or something?”

“Sure, but let me get a sample first.” I patted my pockets, then remembered I wasn’t wearing my jacket. “Do you have a tissue?”

Brett and Key checked their jeans, then Key produced a handful of paper napkins. “Will that work?”

“Perfect.”

I wiped some of the potion off, then folded the napkins carefully and put them in my back pocket. There was no test to figure out what a potion meant to do, but if I could figure out some of the ingredients used, it might give me a general idea of what the dark witch meant to do—simple itchy hands or much, much worse.

“Done.” I got up, glad my legs were wobbly from the exertion of magic but not yet of noodle consistency, then managed to get off the truck without falling on my face. It was a win-win kind of day.

“What about the trunk?” Brett asked.

“Bleach or any strong cleaning product will get rid of the potion. Just make sure you use a lot and don’t touch the surface.”

Brett leaped off the truck and grumbled to himself as he went to search for cleaning supplies while Key and I stayed put to stop anyone from going inside the truck.

“What about the other things that started acting up?” I asked eagerly. “Do you think we can check if there are traces of magic there too?”

Key frowned. “Wouldn’t the magic have disappeared by now?”

“Maybe. But it wouldn’t hurt making sure, right?”

Okay, so my interest wasn’t wholly professional. But when else would I get the chance to snoop around a movie set? A movie set filming Gone by Morning!

“When the universe gives us gifts, it’s our responsibility to make full use of them,” I told Key.

“Yes! I couldn’t say no when Brett asked for help.”

“Exactly. You’ve seen the other spots where the sabotage happened?”

She made a face. “Not yet. They happened at another filming location.”

We stopped talking as a woman approached. She gave us a look over. “You guys lost?”

I gave her my best customer-ready smile. “We’re taking our break.”

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