Page 99 of Sigils & Spells

Aidan caught hold of my elbow. He gave a tight-lipped smile to the confused woman. “Ma’am. If you’ll excuse us.” He steered me to the door. “We need to talk.” He hauled me outside.

Once we hit the sidewalk, he demanded, “Why are you here?”

I was tired of being manhandled by Kingston’s finest. I shook loose from his grip and backed up, hoping to reclaim some personal space. He followed.

“I heard a young woman named Raven was murdered last night. She was either found at a construction site or in the basement of an abandoned building. I put two and two together and figured her body was found in that hidden room and I had questions.”

“Youhearda woman was murdered.”

I didn’t like the way he said heard, as if I’d made the story up myself.

“From who?” he asked.

Exasperated, I threw my arms up. “Half of the witches in Kingston!” Scarlett wasn’t the only one who could exaggerate. “Where no one can keep a secret. Including police officers who saw me in that basement.” I knew I should shut up, but I’d built up a head of steam, and it felt good to vent. “Who knows what they said, but I can read between the lines. Suddenly I’m not trustworthy. I was just fired from a job. Which isn’t right because I had nothing to do with that poor woman’s death.”

“And yet,” a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes, “your spells were on that door, and the backpack, and on the bike.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Anger, frustration, grief, one emotion after the next boiled up, threatening to drown me. It was too much. I whirled away from him and struck out for my car. Annoyingly, he kept pace.

“Detective Harding has a theory. Some attention-seeking criminals like to involve themselves in the investigation.”

“I—am not—a criminal!” I sputtered. No wonder the Stewarts canceled on me. If Harding thought I was involved it wasn’t a stretch to imagine he’d shared his opinion with others at the crime scene last night. Did Aidan think I was involved? Did he think I was trying to sabotage their investigation?

I was trying to help!

I wanted to strike out and hit something. “It haunts me that some witch has hijacked my magic and a woman is dead. Do no harm means everything to me.”

“So why did you come here?”

“Because of Raven and Clancy’s connection to the Mission.”

There was a slight hesitation in Aidan’s stride at Clancy’s name. He quickly recovered.

“I thought I’d see if there’s a link between them and the man—”

“What man?”

Ahead at the crosswalk a bright orange hand burned bright. Either unfazed or unaware of the clear “don’t walk” signal, a couple walked through the crosswalk.

“The guy I heard talking. The one with the suitcase.”

“I thought you didn’t see him?”

“I didn’t!” I stopped at the curb. Aidan would probably fine me for jaywalking if I didn’t. I spun to face off with him. “But he’s involved. I’m sure of it. You guys won’t ask any questions about someone you think I made up so I decided I would. Someone at the Mission might know who they hung out with and maybe it would point to the suitcase guy.” The image of a faceless body crumpled on the concrete floor flashed through my mind. Hot bile burned my throat. I cradled my arms around my stomach. “And possibly lead to Jonah. I suppose it could be a coincidence his things were found nearby, but I don’t think so. Is he mixed up in this? Is he a victim? No idea. I do know some witch has dragged me into this by using my spells and I needed to do something.”

Aidan watched me with a frank appraisal. I refused to flinch away from his penetrating stare.

“Tell me about Priya’s magic.”

His question caught me off guard. “What?”

“Can she call the dead?”

“Can she—” Unable to catch up with the abrupt change in topic my brain froze like a glitchy computer screen.

“Call the dead?” he finished for me. His stance had relaxed, as had the tone of his voice. This Dr. Jekyll act made me suspicious.

“No. She’s a communicator, not a necromancer.” Where was he going with this?

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