Convicted Witch: Jagged Grove Book 1 (8 page)

His smile is bright. “You too...Trinket? That’s a pretty name.”

“Thanks. You must have one of the most exciting jobs here in Jagged Grove. Do you like it?” I’m forcing this, because the drink is kicking in and I just want to go lie down somewhere.

He laughs, showing his gleaming teeth. “I do, but you’re wrong about the job - it isn’t that thrilling. This is a pretty quiet place, as you’ll find out. Our last real fire was five years ago, when Portia’s coven accidentally set a hayfield on fire with ritual candles.”

“Oh.” I’m not paying attention now though, because something has just clicked into place in my head. It’s the reason for Bilda’s acting out, and the reason for the sadness I saw in her eyes at times. I thought she missed Washington and being High Priestess, but now it hits me that she just misses being part of a coven. I don’t know how I know this, but I do, as sure as the dawn.

I look around the room, which is getting noisier by the second, and smile at him again because he’s standing there waiting for an answer. “Quiet? I don’t know about that.”

He laughs again. “You’ll see. Promise. Welcome to Jagged Grove. If you need anything give me a shout.”

I smile and thank him, then watch him amble off to another table. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is.” Angelo looks at his drink in surprise and then sighs. Then he leans forward on his stool until he catches Portia’s eye and waves her over. “Bring me a beer please, Portia.”

She frowns at the odd-looking drink. “You sure?”

“Yes. And stop it.”

She slinks off to get him a beer and I look at him. “What’s that about?”

He nods to the drink. “Love potion. She tries this every time I come in here.” He picks up the glass, stands up and leans over the bar to pour it...somewhere. I assume there’s a sink back there.

When he sits back down, Portia brings him a Foster’s. She’s glaring, but we both ignore her. “Why does she do this, if she knows you won’t drink it?” I ask quietly.

He looks uncomfortable. “I don’t know. She’s had a crush on me since I met her.”

“That’s sweet.” I ignore the tiny twinge that I refuse to name. “She’s pretty.”

He looks at me. “Her husband thinks so, too.”

“
Oh
. I see. Well, Flux seems like a nice guy.”

“He is - he keeps me up to date on a lot of the news around here.” There’s a glint in his eye when he says it.

“Any other notables here?”

He looks around. “Well, see the tall, skinny girl? Looks a little out of place?”

“Yeah?” She was perched in a chair with her hands clasped primly in front of her. She’s a sorceress, I think, although her energy is similar to a witch. In fact the only difference between a sorceress and a witch is that a witch relies on her connection to the earth to perform her magic, and a sorceress uses more spells, potions, and incantations. OK, actually, there really isn’t that much of a difference at all, except for the big one - sorceresses don’t always practice white magic, the good kind. Hence, the difference in energy. She’s dressed in lots of jewelry and a silk dress that is very fancy and very low cut for just a bar, but perfect for her coiffed blonde hair.

“That’s Wisp, Rive Callahan’s daughter. He’s the mayor. I’m actually surprised she’s even here. She thinks this place is beneath her.”

“So, spoiled rotten?”

“Yes, but she loves her daddy to bits. She still lives at home, just so she can take care of him.”

“Where’s her mom?”

“Mrs. Callahan died before they came here.”

Oh. “What about the hot guy at the juke box?” The man had just caught my eye when he stood up to walk across to the neon machine. He looks like a bad boy, one of those fascinating creatures that women can’t help but love. He’s a shifter with dark hair and eyes, and he’s dressed in a soft-looking navy sweater with the sleeves pushed up and has one of those model-gorgeous faces.

Angelo grins at me. “That would be Jones. You’ll meet him soon.”

I’m instantly suspicious. “Why? And why are you smiling like that?”

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t like your tone.”

“What’s wrong with my tone?”

“It’s sneaky. And it’s yours.”

Angelo laughs and spends the next thirty minutes telling me about every person in the room. I discover that all of the ladies love Rive Callahan, that Jones has broken more hearts than Angelo can count, and that the mousy looking woman with stringy black hair in the corner named Feena was one of the most powerful witches in the United States before she burned down a building in a rage and Angelo brought her here. She looks depressed.

I toss back my second drink and stare at him. “You’re a gossip.”

“I am not. I’m just interested. I built this town, you know.”

“Gossip.” The drink is making it hot in here, and the noise level is getting ridiculous, especially since the Jones guy is playing a mix of AC/DC and Pitbull on the jukebox. I pinch the front of my shirt with two fingers and fan it a little. “Can we go? I’d like to find my mom and see where we’re going to live.”

“Sure. We have supper in a few minutes with her and Blakey, remember?”

I groan, because I’m getting sleepier by the minute. “I shouldn’t have had that second shot.”

“I’ll help you,” he says as we stand up, and then before I can respond he scoops me into his arms. I screech, because my world just tilted, and everyone looks up and cheers. Well, except for Portia. With a wave at the room and a grin, Angelo carries me outside into the cool, fresh evening air.

“Will you put me down? Why did you do that?” I swat at his shoulder and try to wiggle my way out of his strong grip.

He grins and shrugs, then drops me gently to my feet. “I just wanted to - my impulse control sucks.”

“Well, quit it.” A thought occurs to me. “You were trying to make Portia jealous, weren’t you?”

“No. I was not.”

He’s lying. I’m suddenly positive that this is exactly what he was doing. “Well, you wanted to get somebody’s attention; I can tell by the way you made sure everyone saw us before we left the room. Whose?”

He doesn’t answer. In fact he begins to whistle happily.

I smile slowly. “This is a small town, Angelo. I’ll find out eventually. Who are you crushing on? Feena?”

“What? No.”

The other girl...what was her name? Carrie - the redhead.” Angelo had told me that she was head of the town council.

“Carrie is a nice lady, and we work well together, but I am not interested in her that way. Let it go, Trinket.” His voice had gone all serious.

“OK. For now. But I’ll be watching you, Mr. Agent Man.” I resist the urge to call him ASS Man. That’s just too easy.

He snorts and shakes his head. “Come on.”

N
ight is starting to fall as he leads me back down to Main Street. Lights flicker on over our heads and the breeze makes the tree leaves rustle quietly. I notice that, like this afternoon, there isn’t much traffic. When I ask, Angelo says, “Most people live close, so they just walk. There’s no sense in buying a car if everything is five blocks away.”

Well, that’s good. I wondered about buying transportation sometime between agreeing to the healer thing and finding Maggie’s body. Angelo set up bank accounts for us - the economy here is based on U.S currency, thank the earth. It makes things a little easier for me, and we won’t starve. Well, at least we won’t as soon as I figure out where to live and find a grocery store.

That thought leads me to another, and I turn to Angelo. “What about the rest of the world?”

“What about it?”

“You told me that this is an American government thing. What about the rest of the world?”

“Some countries have their own version of this. Others don’t - they figure it will sort itself out. A few think we’re stomping all over citizen’s rights.”

“Which few? I’m moving there.”

“Too late, buttercup.” We turn right onto another street, this one marked Phoenix Lane, and the Crystal Cup sign appears, about two blocks away.

We’ve avoided the subject until now, but I want to ask him a few questions before we meet my mom. “Do you think Maggie was killed?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. It’s rare, but not completely out of the question that she had a heart issue or an aneurysm. Young people die of natural causes, too.”

“I know. It just seems wrong to me, somehow.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. I should get the coroner’s report tomorrow or the next day, and I’ll let you know for sure. By the way...” He stops and turns to face me fully. His face is sad in the streetlights. “I’m very sorry this happened on your first day here. It’s got to be unnerving.”

“A little, but not quite as bad as I first thought. I’m more sorry for poor Maggie. How old was she?”

“Twenty, I think. She was a sweet girl.”

“Do you think you’ll find me another assistant?”

Something in the air between us shifts. Something subtle, but sharp, too. Now he looks pissed. “Why?”

“Because I’m supposed to be training somebody, remember? For a year, until I can go home?”

“Oh. Of course. We’ll find you someone. Is it OK with you if the town takes a moment to mourn their tragedy before we all concentrate on your problems again?”

“I’m sorry, I just-.”

“Have a real life? Hate it here? Want to be gone? I know, OK?” He turns away from me and stalks toward the restaurant. I follow quietly, staring at his broad shoulders, not exactly sure what just happened but knowing I’ve hurt him even though I didn’t mean to do that at all.

The restaurant is much quieter that the Salty Hog had been. Real cloth-covered tables are arranged under sparkling chandeliers and the entire places feels generally more refined. Conversation is a hum of low voices threaded through soft violin music. Bilda and Blakely are seated at a table near the window, chatting. My mom looks happy.

I’m relieved to see her. Not that I really thought Blakely would do anything to her, but it’s a new town and I don’t know him very well. She might be a pain in the ass, but she’s still my mother and I still don’t want anything to happen to her.

She smiles up at me as I sit down, her lined cheeks rosy. “Did you two have fun?” she asks me innocently.

I shake my head, which makes her look at Angelo’s still-cloudy face and then back at me again. “Are you fighting? Trinket, honey, are you being difficult again?”

“No!”

Angelo just smirks. I want to smack him, but I just glare instead. I’m sorry I hurt his feelings or whatever, but he doesn’t have to be so mean. Then I change my glare to a sad face and look directly at Blakely. “We found a dead body this afternoon, actually. It was terrible.”

My mother gasps. Blakely’s eyes go wide. Angelo groans.

“It was poor Maggie - the girl who was supposed to be my assistant? Something terrible happened to her.”

Blakely turns to Angelo with plenty of questions in his eyes, but Angelo wards them off easily. “We’ll know more about the situation later. For now, it’s being ruled death by natural causes.”

Blakely says, “But she was perfectly healthy. I saw her dancing just last night. Right here at the Cup.”

“Who was she dancing with?” I ask.

“Sither.”

I shake my head blankly.

“He’s a lower wizard here in town.”

“A...lower wizard? What does that mean?”

“It’s like a felony with guns back in the States. He got mad at the city council and sank all of the boats in the harbor one day last year, and got probation basically forever. He’s not allowed to practice magic anymore, but he still does sometimes. I’ve seen him.” His eyes flick to Angelo. “Nothing big, though. Mostly, he just lights the bonfire at the solstice celebrations.”

I don’t think Blakely is telling the whole truth, but I see in Angelo’s eyes that he’s letting the information slide.

Our server is a gangly young man who looks like he might still be in high school, but Angelo is still mad at me and doesn’t introduce us. His name tag says Tonio, and when he deposits a stack of menus and asks for our drink orders, his voice is soft even though his wizard energy glows brightly.

I smile when he taps the table three times and my iced tea appears in front of me without his ever leaving the table.

“We’ll all have the special,” Blakely announces before I’ve even reached for the menu. Then he turns to us. “The special here is always Pork Florentine, and it’s amazing. Chef Callone stuffs it with spinach, roasted peppers and cheese.” He’s practically swooning.

“I’m glad I’m not a vegetarian,” I mutter, annoyed at his ordering for me.

“Even if you were, this meal would change your mind,” he snaps back.

I don’t bother explaining that if I were a vegetarian I’d never try it.

Tonio doesn’t perform the same trick with the food as he did with our drinks, much to my disappointment. All I want to do now is get this meal over with, find my new home, and go to bed.

Angelo looks like he’s ready to get rid of me, too. The tension between us doesn’t go unnoticed by Bilda, who keeps staring at me curiously but doesn’t say anything.

We listen to Angelo and Blakely chatter about town happenings, and I learn that Wisp is in charge of every interesting thing that happens around here. I’ve met girls like her before - she’s evidently the town’s favorite socialite.

I also find out that Jagged Grove is much older than I first thought, because Blakely remembers things that happened as much as a hundred years ago.

“Wait a minute,” I say. “Are you saying that this place is that old? That our government had the technology to create a town in another dimension before the Great Depression?”

Blakely laughs like I’m joking. “Not exactly. The technology was private back then, owned by a man named Cassius Clove. He was a warlock, but he was also a great scientist who thought that people like us needed our own place. He created it for any of us who came to him and needed help. The government didn’t take over until...when, Angelo? The fifties?”

Angelo nods.

I turn on him. Things aren’t adding up. “But you said that you helped populate this place. That you had been here since the beginning.”

He looks at his plate. “Cassius Clove was my father.”