Page 37 of Bright Dark Curses

Loud cackling filled the air. “Oh, my. If you could see your face right now, child.”

I stared down my nose at the locket. “You are the worst. And forget about listening to chapter two of the book tomorrow.”

“Oh, c’mon,” she called out as I walked—in quite the dignified way, if you ask me—out of the kitchen. “A small jest won’t kill your day!”

Ignoring her, I went upstairs to make sure the dogs were okay, then returned to the shop.

Two and half days to make the potion and pass this test. No problem. I’d have it done by midnight tonight.

An incoming text ping from my phone reminded me I hadn’t finished sending that text to Dru. I asked her about Brimstone’s supposed boy band past, but she hadn’t known. I considered asking Key, but by now she was probably busy setting up for today’s filming, and I didn’t want to distract her.

I could’ve asked Brimstone himself, but he shot out of the shop as soon as his shift was over, leaving me with three thirsty customers and an empty muffin display.

Internet searches of boy bands and food video logs during the lulls got me nowhere, so I switched to digging into our suspects’ pasts. None of them had anything in their history that screamed paranormal saboteur in-the-making, which was very rude of them. I’m sure Key would’ve appreciated a clear suspect.

As I was finishing watching a trailer for Lydia Lee’s last movie—a low-budget thriller where she played a single mom on the run from a psychotic stalker…or was she?—my phone began ringing.

Seeing Key on the caller ID made my heart skip a beat. Had she found something interesting she needed me to check? “Yes?”

“Hope! Something happened.” She sounded slightly panicked, which had me automatically reach for my can of pepper spray.

“What is it?”

“Brett got sick and sent to the hospital.”

“Oh, no. Is it bad?”

“We don’t know.” Her voice lowered. “We think it was magic.”

Nothing else needed to be said. “I’ll be there in ten.”

She gave me the address for today’s filming spot, and I pinned it on my phone’s GPS. Luckily the shop was empty, so I didn’t have to kick anyone out as I locked up the door, armed the alarm, flipped the sign to closed, and drew down the blinds.

Had our UNSUB learned of Brett’s suspicions and decided to take him out?

After making sure the dogs had enough water, and apologizing for leaving them behind, I drove Bee-Bee to the new location, my blood boiling with righteous indignation.

Sabotaging the movie based on one of my favorite book series was one thing, but poisoning a shifter? That was crossing a huge line. Nobody messed with Olmeda’s paranormals on my probational watch!

I parked as close as possible and ran the rest of the way. Today they were shooting at the John B. Fieldman Park. I didn’t remember any scenes like that in the book, but I supposed they could’ve taken some artistic license with the plot.

Key was waiting for me by some parked SUVs. The sight of the big black vehicles produced a pang in my heart. What would Ian do in this situation if he were here?

Say it wasn’t his problem and go back to taking care of his own business.

The thought drew a reluctant smile out of me.

Maybe not the best example to draw from.

“Hope, thank you for coming,” Key said.

“Of course.” I studied her closely, but she didn’t look tearful or about to break down, which I took as a good sign of Brett’s health. I took out a vial from my jacket pocket and handed it over. “This is the magic-detecting potion. Where’s Shane?”

She pocketed the bottle and pointed toward the park, where the crew was still setting up equipment. “Inside. He wanted to stay and see if anyone’s missing or acting suspicious.”

“Good. Tell me what happened.”

“Some of the crew were taking a small break and drinking coffee when Brett got really sick. The on-set paramedics took him to the hospital.”

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