Page 5 of Death Trap

We liked to meet at A.B.—Marla’s nickname to avoid the word ‘bastard’ in the name—whenever I had time, which was a rarity in itself. I enjoyed our time together. With Wyatt and Marla, the loneliness my afterlife had once held was dispersing some.

Wyatt brought Marla her usual. A pink cosmopolitan, decorated with a little umbrella and all.

“You know I hate making these things,” Wyatt said when he set it on the bar in front of her.

Marla grinned and fiddled with the paper umbrella. “Oh, I know. And that makes it taste even better.”

Throwing her a sour look, he walked to the other end to help another customer.

“Be careful,” I warned her. “I wouldn’t put it past him to spit in your drink.”

Her lip turned up in disgust. “Ugh, you’re right.” She waved her palm over the glass, mumbling quickly in Latin, before dipping one perfectly painted nail into the drink. Nothing happened.

“Nope, it’s safe.” She sipped it again and smacked her lips.

Fascinating.“What was that?” I asked.

“A truth spell,” she replied with a pleased smile. “If the drink was tainted in any way, it would have revealed itself in a different color.”

Oh, that sounded useful.

“Is that a level three spell?” I asked.

She nodded.

I’d have to mention that one to Laurence. He was supposed to be taking his level one test soon. After seeing him produce those fireballs during our fight with the demons, I thought he was ready. But what did I know?

“What’s with all the interest in magic?” she asked, setting her drink down.

I swirled my glass, watching the ice cubes twirl and bubbles rise. “Hmm?”

“You’re always asking me about my spells. What’s with the sudden interest?”

I paused. Had I really been asking her a lot about her magic casting? I hadn’t noticed.

“I have a friend who’s a level one. He’s working hard to move up, but for some reason, he just misses the mark every time. I’m trying to find new ways to possibly help him, but as you can imagine, I don’t know very much about your kind.”

Just what I found in witches or sorcerers’ soul profiles after they died.

“Aw, Jade, that’s really sweet of you,” she said, tilting her head to the side in thought. “But spell-casting is all about confidence. Is this the guy you always talk about, the one with the child with your Medium friend?”

I nodded.

“Then, he’ll never get anywhere if he doesn’tbelievehe can do it. And I mean, believe it in his soul. If there’s any doubt, even an inkling, the harder spells won’t work.”

That’s what I had figured, too. “I’ll definitely pass that along.”

“Tell him to stop into Divine Magic and talk to my niece,” she said. “She might be able to help him out more.”

“I didn’t know you had a niece,” I said.

“Yeah. I left everything to her in my will, so she should be running the place. She’s twenty-one, but extremely bright and resilient.” Marla smiled, but there was sorrow in the gesture, too. “I’ve been caring for her since she was ten. That’s when my sister died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” That was what people normally said when someone passed away, right? I wasn’t sure, so I sipped my drink, just in case.

Marla blew a raspberry. “Don’t be. My sister was a witch. A real witch. Not only in the magical sense.”

My drink dribbled out of my mouth at that. I used the back of my hand to wipe it away. The woman really did everything she could not to curse.

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