Evicted Witch (Jagged Grove Book 3) Page 10

  The shadow turns, just a little, but enough for me to see pale skin and draping black hair in the moonlight. I sigh, stand up, and step to the window before it can run away. Pushing it open, I say, “Rain, what are you doing here?”

  Her screech is loud enough to wake up the town, until I reach out, grab the lapel of her jacket, and clap a hand over her mouth. “Rain? Shh.”

  Her eyes are wide, the whites shining behind her curtain of dark hair. When I slowly let go of her mouth, but not her jacket, she says, “Are you going to kill me too?”

  “Kill you?” I blink, completely confused. “Why would I kill you?”

  Her eyes move to a spot behind me. “Why did you kill Jones?”

  I can’t help it - the tension has been building for too long, and I laugh to break it. She looks even more terrified.

  “We didn’t kill him, goofball. He’s just asleep.”

  For a split second, she looks like she doesn’t believe me, then I feel her relax under my grip. A little. “Since you’re already here, do you want to come inside?”

  She starts to shake her head, but I hold up a hand and reframe the suggestion. “Since you’re already here, I need you to come inside, Rain. Now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because anyone who happens by will be wondering why you are lurking outside Blakely’s house. Then they’ll know it has something to do with Jones. After that, it isn’t a huge leap to deducing that I’m in here. Jones and Blakely aren’t buddies who hang out together.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why would they connect me to Jones?” she asks.

  I don’t bother responding. She has no idea how obvious her crush is. “Just get in here. I’ll open the front door.”

  I let her in, warn her to avoid the tea, and then go back to the paperwork. As I read past the very short list of witnesses for and against Bilda, I spot May’s name, and then surprisingly, Sabrina’s.

  That alone should prove that Bilda didn’t do this - why would she kill one of the people who testified in her favor?

  The testimonies altogether are conclusive, though - no one knew where Bilda was during either of the murders, either Aries or Sabrina. If Dravo knew, like he claimed, then he wasn’t talking to the Council or Angelo about it.

  The next pages seem to be character sketches of the victims, and I almost skip over them but then think again. Each page lists the deceased’s name, age, and character traits. After that is a summary of the day or so before they died. At the bottom, I notice Misc. Info in all caps.

  Quellan Coven. Sabrina and Aries belonged to the same coven.

  I stare at the words, flipping back and forth from page to page. Why has no one mentioned this before? Or had they, and I just forgot in all the confusion? Too many witches, too many connections, to be a coincidence.

  Lilly was part of their coven, too. But Candace killed Lilly, and it was an accident because she was trying to kill me. Right?

  Rain is standing beside the sofa with the unconscious Jones. I must have made a sound, because Rain says, “What?” then turns and bends over my shoulder.

  “What do you know about the Quellan coven, Rain?” I look up at her, but her face is blank.

  She shakes her heads. “Only that it was one of the covens formed after my parents died. Why?”

  “Do they have any enemies? Anyone at all who would be angry with them?”

  She shrugs. “I have no idea.”

  I’m taking a risk here, but... “Could you find out? Ask around a little, without making anybody suspicious?”

  She looks unsure.

  Then I have a better idea. “Actually, could you relay this information to Angelo? Without letting on that I found out, or that I’m even here?”

  “Sure - that’s no big deal. I could do that. But don’t you think he already knows?”

  “He might, but I want him to know that others know, too. That people are watching what he does. Does that make sense?”

  “I guess.” She goes back to Jones. “Are you sure he’s OK? He’s so still.”

  “Blakely promised that he would be fine in a little while.”

  She quirked her lips. “Do you believe him?”

  “Yeah, Rain. I do.” It’s true. Of all the people involved in this mess, Blakely is the one I trust the most - all he cares about is Bilda, and that fact shines brightly in his eyes. His affection for her is heartbreaking, especially since she seems to have disappeared into thin air.

  I may not have a clue about Angelo’s role in all of this, or any idea who the real killer is, but Blakely, in this case, has my wholehearted trust.

  “Are you coming back to Bilda’s?” she asks me.

  I shake my head. “No - I don’t think I can. Angelo will know soon enough that I’m back - against his orders - and he’ll be watching the places I know, like Bilda’s house, Rachel’s house, and my office.”

  “It’s sad that you finally figured out the Rachel thing, and you still don’t get to live in that fabulous house.”

  I sigh. “I think so, too.”

  Then, because I really don’t want to talk about that, I change the subject. “So how are you going to talk to Angelo about the coven connection?”

  She smiles. “Coven connection - I like that. I guess I’ll just ask him.”

  “He’ll want to know how you know, Rain. What will you tell him?”

  “Relax, I’m not dumb, Trinket. I’m a teenager - I’ll just tell him I overheard it down at the Salty Hog.”

  I’m impressed, and I say so. Then I grab her hand before she can pull away. “Thank you for helping. It means a lot to me.”

  “I’m not helping because of you - I’m doing it for Bilda.”

  It feels like a slap, but I understand. “Well, anyway. Thank you.”

  Jones chooses that moment to groan and then roll off the sofa with a loud thump. Rain gasps and runs to him. “Jones? Jones! Are you all right?”

  Her tone is saturated with care, and when he groans in response she wrinkles her brow like she’s about to cry. “Jones. Please get up.”

  Blakely sticks his head in through the door. “What is she doing here?” he asks, exasperation thick in his voice.

  “She was keeping an eye on Jones, apparently.”

  Blakely rolls his eyes and disappears again.

  Jones is on his feet - sort of - with Rain hanging from his arm and looking more mother hen than doting crush. It’s odd, because she is ultimate grunge.

  “Let me get you home,” she murmurs to him. He pauses and looks at her, then glares at me. “I’m fine.”

  I hold up both hands. “I didn’t do it. Didn’t know he was going to do it, either.”

  Disbelief is evident in his gaze. I ignore it. “Did you know that both dead witches were members of the same coven?” I ask.

  His eyes widen in surprise, his grudge forgotten. “No. I mean, yes, now that you mention it.”

  “Yes or no?” Maybe the spell is still working on his brain matter.

  “Yes I knew they were, but no I didn’t put it together until you said something just now. Interesting fact.”

  “What’s it about, though? Did that coven piss somebody off?”

  “Babe, I have no idea.”

  Rain’s jaw tightens.

  “Can we find out? Maybe ask the other coven members?”

  He looks at me. “I can, maybe. You? No. All we need is for word to get out that you’ve been spotted on the island, and we’re back to square one.” He steps forward and draws me into a hard hug, dropping his chin to the top of my head. It feels nice, but I don’t miss Rain stomping toward the door then slamming it behind her.

  “What’s her problem?” Jones asks me.

  I pull away. “Seriously? You don’t know?”

  “Well, you kind of hinted that she... “He’s floundering. “What? What’s the word?”

  “Crush. She has a monster crush on you. No pun intended.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Well, you
are kind of a monster.”

  “And you’re a brat, Princess.”

  “I am not. I’m...troubled.”

  “Ahem.”

  We both turn to see Blakely standing in the doorway. He’s changed into more casual slacks and a button-down, but he still looks very regal. He also looks amused. “Would you two mind breaking it up in here? And where is the youngster?”

  “Rain left.”

  “Do you think she’ll keep your secret?”

  I nod, praying that I’m right. “The only person she would tell - Glade - already knows I’m back.”

  “Fine, then. I have deciphered the message you need.”

  “Oh, thank you.” I reach for his notes and the original paper, but he pulls them back a little.

  “Are you sure you want to know what it says?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” A sharp jolt of dread stabs into my belly.

  He sighs, starts to say something, but then just closes his mouth and hands the papers over. I grab them before he can change his mind, and he looks at me with pure disdain. “How did such a graceful, lovely woman ever give birth to you?” he mutters, wandering over to his tea and perching on the edge of a chair.

  My mother is many things, but graceful? Lovely? I shake my head and turn my attention back to the paperwork.

  What I read there stops my breath.

  Jones must notice, because he takes my hand and pulls the sheet from my grasp. Reading over it, he whispers, “Holy hell, Trinket.”

  I nod. The document appears to be an order from Dravo, asking Angelo to get me here any way possible, even if he has to use Bilda to do it. The last line is especially telling. I need to see my daughter, and I expect you to make that happen. Promptly, Angelo.

  “What does this mean? What is going on?”

  Angelo had hinted that my father had something to do with our coming here, as had Rachel, but I thought it probably had more to do with Bilda than me. “What does he want?”

  Jones slowly hands the paper back to me. “I think the bigger question is, why is he so worried about getting you here that he makes this order part of a file for the Council?”

  I open my mouth to say that I don’t understand what he means, but then I do. “You think the Council approves of Dravo strong-arming us?”

  “Looks that way.” Jones shakes his head. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  I look to Blakely, who has seen and lived more than Jones and I put together. “What about you, Blakely? Any idea what this is about?”

  Blakely looks...relieved. It takes me a moment, but I realize that he’s been worried. He’s been thinking that Bilda was brought here for Dravo.

  I think about the finger that used to be in Bilda’s attic room - before it disappeared - and place a hand on his arm. “You have nothing to worry about, Blakely. My mother has made her feelings about my dad very clear.”

  His smile is calmer, but still tremulous.

  “I need to talk to Dravo.”

  Both men nod in agreement. “How do you propose we do that, though?” Jones asks. “We can’t just go sauntering down the path to the colony, expecting that no one will notice.”

  He’s right. “Let me think about it. I’ll find a way.”

  “And then what? Are you going to demand that Dravo tell you all his secrets?” Blakely sounds incredulous.

  I wave the sheet of paper that’s still in my hand. “First I’ll give him my proof and ask him to explain himself. Then I’ll make him tell me where Bilda is.”

  “You think he knows?”

  I remember my father’s can-do attitude when he promised that his men would find Bilda. The more I’ve thought about it, the more I’m sure that only a man who already knew the answers could act that way. “I’m betting on it. I think he knows exactly what’s going on with Bilda, the Quellan coven, all of it.”

  “And he’s going to tell you...why?” Doubt slips through Blakely’s voice.

  “Because as far as he knows, I’m already gone, so I’ll have the element of surprise. Also, I can threaten to leave if he doesn’t fess up. If he wants me here, then he’ll have to pay the price of knowledge.”

  Jones snorts. “Well, that wasn’t melodramatic at all.”

  “Shut up. This place obviously thrives on melodrama. We sneak into the colony.”

  “We? I really can’t see Blakely stomping through the woods - which I’m pretty sure is the only way to get there.”

  Blakely clears his throat. “I’ll be fine. When do we leave?”

  “How does now sound?”

  Jones groans. “Not great. I’m still groggy, and we’ll kill ourselves stomping around in the dark.”

  “Fine.” Blakely looks annoyed.

  I don’t want to wait, but Jones has a point. We need to be fresh, in case our witch-killer decides to strike again.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I did some research last night,” Jones announces at breakfast the next morning, sitting across from me in Blakely’s small but elegant dining room. I glance at Blakely, but he just shrugs and goes back to his oatmeal.

  Jones looks at him, too. “How can you eat that stuff?” he asks, staring at the tannish lump with strawberries on top.

  “I like it - it isn’t like I need it for sustenance.”

  He means blood. I don’t know much about Blakely’s food source, and I’m not sure I want to, especially over breakfast. I clear my throat. “Can we talk about, well, anything else?”

  “We need to talk about Sither,” Jones says, looking up from his eggs and bacon. “He was there last night.”

  “Where? At the Council chambers?” Blakely puts down his spoon.

  “Yes - I still think he was just doing his job or something,” I say. It may be dumb, but no warning bells are going off in my head over Sither. “Blakely, can you tell me more about the Quellan coven?”

  He cocks his silver head, thinking for a moment. “Well, the coven has the traditional thirteen members, but otherwise they are a little nontraditional.”

  “How’s that?” I ask. Jones looks interested, too.

  “Well, there are five elders and three acting High Priestesses, first of all. They trade off as needed.”

  “As needed?”

  He makes a motion with his hand. “For instance, when one isn’t available, the others can feel free to step in and conduct the rituals.”

  “Oh. Ok. Who are they? The five elders, I mean.”

  “Let’s see... Aries was one of the Elders, and also a High Priestess. So was Sabrina, now that I think about it. Bloom is an Elder, as is her friend Rose.”

  “That’s four,” I prompt.

  He purses his lips, thinking. “Oh, and May. She is an Elder, too, as well as a Priestess.”

  Jones looks worried. “So two of the five Elders are dead?”

  I catch on to what he’s thinking. “And two of the three High Priestesses.”

  “That would be correct,” Blakely says slowly. “Those poor women.”

  “Blakely, could there be a power struggle within the coven?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, could one of the other witches be gunning for a High Priestess position?”

  He blinks, then stands up and removes his oatmeal bowl from the table. “I’m sure I couldn’t tell you, but I can say that none of the members I know has mentioned it.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Coven politics can get ugly,” Jones says, “But they usually don’t go airing dirty laundry to non-members.”

  Airing dirty laundry? Is he somebody’s grandmother? “Who can we ask?”

  “What about your Aunt May?” Jones suggests. “She seemed to be pretty sharp. I bet she would know.”

  “She would, wouldn’t she?” Another thought occurs to me. “Also...I think we should warn her. If someone is killing the High Priestesses of Quellan Coven, she’s the only one left on the list.”

  Blakely goes a little pale.

  �
�What’s wrong?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “I’m only worried, that’s all. Bilda might be in more danger than we think.”

  “Why?”

  “She is May’s sister - whoever is killing these witches might think Bilda is going to step in and take over her sister’s place - more competition.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that, but it makes sense.

  A knock on the door interrupts us. Blakely groans and goes to answer it, muttering something about secrets being hard to keep around here.

  It doesn’t look like it from where I’m sitting - everyone seems to have at least one or two of them.

  He comes back with Rain, who looks out of breath, then goes on into the kitchen. “Angelo knows you’re here,” she says.

  “What? How?” I get a sudden urge to hide under the table.

  “Well, he knows you didn’t leave on that boat, anyway. Same thing. He’s got men waiting at Bilda’s house and on the path to the colony.” She drops into a chair. “I think he’s also got a few guys keeping watch over Dravo’s home.”

  “Wonderful,” I mutter. “How am I supposed to do anything if he’s watching?”

  “Didn’t you say Jones used a cloaking spell last night?”

  We both look at him.

  Jones swallows his last bite of breakfast. “It isn’t good enough to hide Trinket from Angelo. He has more power than you think. A lot more.”

  I’ve never really seen Angelo use his power, so I’ll have to take Jones’s word for it. “Then what do we do?”

  “You,” he points to me, “Stay hidden. Rain and I will go talk to May.”

  “No. Bilda is my mom, and May is my aunt, apparently. I want to talk to her.”

  Jones stands up. “Tough - I want you to stay alive, and keeping you out of this mess is the best way to do that.”

  Blakely has come back into the room. “He’s right, Trinket. I know it’s difficult to hear, but you’re better off staying hidden.”

  “What if we bring May here?” Rain asks.

  Blakely nods, just barely. “I’m not sure she would come, but it’s worth a try.”