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Evicted Witch (Jagged Grove Book 3) Page 6
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Then he turns to Jones and surprises us all. “Take her to Bilda’s and stay with her. Or take her to your house. Wherever. Just keep her near you until tomorrow and deliver her to the Council in one piece.”
We all stare at him. Angelo and Jones are arch enemies when it comes to women, from what I understand, and so far in my time here, they’ve been at odds over me. This is a big deal.
“What?” he looks back at each of us. “She hates my guts right now, and I don’t blame her, but she’s also prone to getting into a lot of trouble, so somebody needs to watch her.”
“She is kind of a pain in the ass.” Jones nods in agreement.
“That’s not what I said... Never mind. Just go.”
Jones leads me out of the bar. I know that everyone in the place is watching and pretending not to - especially Portia and Wisp. I can feel their smirks all the way to the door. Even the animal heads on the walls seem accusing.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Jones says quietly as we walk through town toward Bilda’s house. Streetlights buzz over our heads, but otherwise the street is almost deserted.
“It’s not your fault Angelo is a caveman.” I rub my wrists where the handcuffs irritated them. “Do you think he’ll really send me home?”
He takes my hand. “I do. And it will be difficult to refute that - you’ve been telling anyone and everyone that you want to go.”
“Not while Bilda’s in trouble, though. Not if I can help her.”
“What if you can’t help her?”
I don’t know how to answer that, and my throat constricts painfully at the thought. “I have to, Jones. She’s in trouble, and I don’t even know where she is.”
“What if she’s fine?”
I look at him, but I can only see his silhouette in the dim lights. “I don’t see how she could be fine. She’s...lost, and there’s a murderer out there somewhere.”
“Or she’s simply hiding - someplace safe. Bilda isn’t stupid, Trinket.”
“Then why doesn’t she just turn herself in and let Angelo clear her name?”
“What if it’s not that simple?” he shoots back. “Listen. Bilda isn’t the doddering little fool that you seem to think - she’s smart, resourceful, and able to handle a lot that would crush me or you. She’ll be fine, but you’re going to have to trust her to take care of herself for once.”
I can’t listen to this. Bilda is in danger, and I need to help. I walk faster, heading for home. Jones keeps up easily, though, and takes my hand to slow me again. “Don’t shut me out, Trinket. I’m the only one willing to help you right now.”
Suddenly I’m really tired - tired of fighting, tired of trying to figure this mess out, tired of feeling helpless and scared for Bilda. “Then help me, Jones. Help me find her, and help me find the person murdering witches.”
We’re at my door, but when I reach to unlock it he takes my hand and makes me look at him. “You think that’s what this is about? Someone targeting witches specifically?”
“Actually, Rain gave me the idea. What else could possibly be going on?”
Chapter Six
The building looks a lot like a courthouse back home - designed to be imposing, as if it could scare a person into admitting to something. By contrast, the hearing room on the second floor is as boring as any other government office, except for the stern-looking people on the other side of the table. They stare at me and make me feel like I’m five years old. They’ve already taken my magic by placing a binding spell on me before I was allowed into the room. I feel kind of naked without it, which is odd, considering the fact that I barely ever use it in the first place.
I’m sitting at one end of the long table, and Angelo is sitting opposite. We’re separated only by the Council members and a fake potted plant which obscures half of Angelo’s face. Fine with me - it saves me the energy of glaring at him.
For the first time in my life I wish I could kill someone with my magic. Actually, this whole situation makes me understand why some people turn to the dark craft.
The Council members are elders, and they all have the same look in their eyes. Back home, it’s called the thousand-yard stare, a term reserved for warriors home from battle. I wonder what kind of wars these people have seen in their hundreds of years. Then I wonder about the badges and pins that adorn their robes.
The person closest to me is a woman named Kelee. She would be at home in suburbia if not for the fact that her presence is like an invisible brick wall - cold and hard. The next person, a man named Baron, is nicer but still reserved. He did smile at me once when I first came in, but now his head is bent toward a thick stack of papers in front of him and all I can see is his military haircut.
Farther down, in the center of the five, sits the eldest of the members, named Empaul. He simply looks tired - and annoyed. On Earth, I would have guessed him at eighty years old and lean, but when it comes to witches things aren’t what they seem. He’s probably closer to nine hundred years old.
The two on Angelo’s end - Blair and Fairley, according to their tags - are chatting quietly with their heads together. They look like school teachers, but I can feel the energy crackling between them from here. As I watch, Blair looks up. “Shall we get started?” she asks, looking at me with electric blue eyes. The firm set of her mouth makes me nervous.
Empaul clears his throat and sits up in his chair, making Angelo sit up straighter, too. Good - maybe he’s as nervous as I am. Empaul pays no attention to him - he’s focused on me.
“We have an eviction form, filled out by Angelo Camino, declaring that Trinket Banks is banished from Jagged Grove.
I blink. “You’re last name is Camino, like the car?”
Empaul clears his throat again.
Angelo rolls his eyes.
Why haven’t I heard his last name before? That’s weird.
“As you know, Angelo, this is unprecedented, and for that reason alone I am hesitant to grant your request.”
Angelo nods once. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
“As you also know, the safety and secrecy of Jagged Grove is our most important concern. Is the evidence clear that this woman is a threat to the security of Jagged Grove?”
“She is a threat to our ongoing murder investigation, and by extension, the security of the island.”
“How so?”
Angelo won’t look at me. “She has conjured a havrue, created a natural disaster that damaged vital parts of Jagged Grove, and involved herself with the investigation of several crimes in the area, including murder, effectively keeping my men from doing their jobs.”
My mouth has fallen open. I should have known that he would twist things in order to get his way. My face burns. “I have not. Rachel did those things!” I look back and forth from him to Empaul. “I was just the catalyst - she was trying to kill me.”
“She wasn’t trying to kill you.” Angelo’s expression shows pity.
“She was afraid I was going to jump your bones-.”
Empaul clears his throat, and I realize what I said. “Not that I would, of course.... He’s a jerk.”
Blair snickers behind her pen.
“I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t even want to come here-.”
Kelee raises her eyebrows. “So you have no objection to this order?”
“Yes! I do have an objection.” I can feel control of the conversation slipping from my grasp. “I wanted to leave, but not without my mother.”
Kelee shakes her head. “Your mother? She’s here, too?” Turning to Angelo, she says, “Angelo, you know how I feel about family ties. It’s been a bone of contention between us since the founding of Jagged Grove. An eviction may not be the best-case scenario here.”
“Angelo purses his lips. “Kelee, her mother is hiding on the island, a suspect in the ongoing murder investigation at the colony.”
“A suspect?”
“We believe that there is a war going on under our noses - a war between covens.�
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I perk up - this is news to me.
“We also believe that Bilda - Trinket’s mother - is a factor in at least two murders, as a result.”
“What war? Angelo, tell me what you know.” I’m staring hard at him, but he refuses to look at me.
“We believe that Trinket is a potential stumbling block, and that she will impede our investigation of these crimes.”
It’s official - I hate Angelo. “Of course I will, if solving these crimes means blaming my mother for something she didn’t do.”
Kelee raises her eyebrows. My mouth slams shut - I’ve said exactly the wrong thing.
Empaul sighs. “Order granted.”
His words don’t quite register at first, but when they do, I want to scream. “Please, sir - you don’t understand. I - my mother is here, and so is my father. Everything important to me is here.” I’m jabbering, but I also realize that it’s true. With Clay’s betrayal and my law career a distant memory, I have nothing waiting at home now. My friends are there, including Tawny, but they aren’t the kind of close friends that will search for me. They will just assume that we stayed in Paris and eventually forget about me. In fact, after knowing Jones and Rain, I wonder if they were ever real friends at all.
Kelee says, “Empaul, should we not convene on this matter? It seems as if some discussion is warranted.”
Hope? No. Empaul is shaking his head. “The order is clear.”
“Can I appeal?”
“No. Order granted.”
I’m panicking. “If- If you send me home, I swear I’ll tell everyone I know about this place.”
That stops them - for half a second.
“I’ll take care of it,” Angelo says, and they go back to shuffling their files.
“How? What are you going to do? Kill me?”
When nobody answers, I close my mouth. That was a last-ditch threat, anyway, because who would believe me? The edges of my vision go dark, and suddenly it’s too hot to breathe. I clutch the edge of the table and gasp once or twice, but it doesn’t help. The room is spinning, the faces of the Council members a blur. They’re going to send me away and toss Bilda to the wolves.
“Don’t do this...” I whisper, my heart breaking at the thought of Bilda in some magical prison somewhere. Or worse - I have no idea if there is a death penalty in Jagged Grove.
I shake my head to clear it, but before I can move, Angelo has walked to my end of the table, and he slaps a handcuff on me. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of here,” he whispers.
My grip on the table prevents him from pulling me to my feet, so he patiently pries my fingers away, one by one. All I can do is plead with the Council, with the elders, and pray that one of them has mercy.
They all have set, impassive expressions, and none of them look up at me. I try to crawl under the table, away from Angelo, but he just picks me up and sets me on my feet. Through my tears, I see that Empaul has looked up at us, finally. “You will be bound magically to never speak of Jagged Grove or the situation that led you here. The Council has spoken. You will be removed from the island within forty-eight hours, never to return. Dismissed.”
Removed. Dismissed. My heart pounds. I’m afraid - for me, for Bilda. A thought occurs to me. “Wait - I’m the town healer. What will you do without one?”
“We have Rain, Trinket. She’s good. She’ll be fine.” Angelo pats my arm, but I jerk away from him. “Don’t touch me.”
“I have to touch you, Trinket - you’re under arrest.”
“No I’m not.”
“Well, in custody, anyway. Please don’t make this difficult.”
Our wrestling has caught the attention of the Council. “Angelo, do you need assistance?” Kelee asks quietly. Amusement shines in her eyes.
“He needs his head examined,” I mutter.
“Shut up, Trinket.”
“Bite me, Angelo.”
Kelee stands up. “For the record, I’m not sure we’re making the right decision here, but the Council has spoken. Please cooperate, Trinket. It’s for the best.”
Angelo drags me from the room and down a hall to what I assume is his office. It’s small, and definitely government issue, but it’s quiet and there is a comfortable chair. He puts me in it, locks the handcuff to the arm, and goes to sit behind his desk.
“They said I was never to return, Angelo. Why would you ask for that? Bilda might need me.”
He rubs his face with his hands. “I didn’t ask for that, Trinket. I just needed you out of harm’s way until we can clear up this mess.”
“Then why would he tack on that provision?” Something isn’t making sense here.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, go ask him.”
He stares at me. “The Council has spoken, and you don’t just go fuss at them.”
“I will. Unlock me. I have no problem interrogating these people.”
“They have powerful magic, Trinket. We don’t make them angry.”
I don’t believe this. “So Jagged Grove is a dictatorship?”
He winces. “No.”
“Yes...If I can’t appeal, or even offer my case, then yes. That’s exactly what it is - a dictatorship.”
“Then you should thank the stars that you get to leave.”
“I’m not leaving without Bilda.” We both know my words are pure bravado. I’m trapped. “You’re a heartless jerk, Angelo.”
“I know. I’m sorry, but you still have to leave. It’s safer for everyone, including you.”
“I’m not in danger.”
“A novice witch almost killed you last time.”
“Candace was just upset.”
“Rachel tried to scare you to death. Portia hates your guts.”
“Rachel and I have made our peace, and I’m not scared of Portia.”
“She’s upset with you, though, and that means you could be in danger. There are magical undercurrents all over this island, and until the situation is under control, you are in danger.”
“So you make me leave forever?”
“I’m sorry.”
He keeps saying that, and I almost believe him. Almost.
“What about my father? He had enough pull to get me here. Why can’t he use that influence to help me stay?”
I realize that if I go, I’ll never get to know him, or know what happened between him and Bilda. It’s a small thing, but it hurts.
“He can’t go against the Council on a formal ruling.”
“Sounds like you need a new Council.”
“Trinket.” He stands up, comes around the desk, and kneels in front of my chair. When he looks up at me, I see real concern and sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry for bringing you here. I’m sorry for dropping you in the middle of all of this.”
All of this reminds me... “What did you mean about a war between covens? Was that true?”
He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them again. He’s thinking. “We aren’t sure. We do know that long-standing tensions are starting to reach a breaking point, and that there are hints of hostility in the colony.”
The colony where Bilda might be hiding. I gulp. “What kind of hostilities?”
“A magical war. One that will leave too many witches dead, if we don’t get it under control. These are ancient covens, and the allegiances go back years. You don’t just go stumbling into a mess like that.”
“What does Bilda have to do with any of it? You just said that the tensions are longstanding, and we’ve only been here for a couple of months.”
“But Bilda has connections that I wasn’t aware of when I brought you here.”
I think about my brand new Aunt May, and my father. “And you think they’ve gotten her involved?”
“I have no idea, Trinket.”
His answer infuriates me. “Yes you do. You know Bilda wouldn’t hurt anyone. You know she’s innocent of murder.”
“I don’t know that, and you don’t either. There is a lot of fam
ily history here, and family issues can be deadly.”
“I know that Bilda is a good person, with a good heart. Doesn’t that count for something?” I’m starting to cry again, and it makes me mad. I wipe my tears with my free hand.
“Of course it does, and once we find her the Council will take that into consideration.”
“You mean she won’t even get a real trial? Just a declaration handed down by some old people who don’t even know her?”
“It will be fair.”
“As fair as mine? I’m not really impressed with your precious Council, Angelo. Especially Empaul.”
“I know. I’m not sure what happened in there, but I’ll get to the bottom of that, too.”
“No you won’t - you’re afraid of them.”
His eyes widen at my pronouncement, but he doesn’t contradict me.
I need to find out what’s going on, but I have no more time.
The next morning, I’m sitting on the floor of my cell, sprinkling a small circle of salt. I’ve been saving the white packets I got with meals, and this morning Jones brought me more, along with a few of the herbs from Bilda’s kitchen. I try to remember the words Bilda taught me, the ones that will poof me out of here. So far, I feel the trickles of magic, but the spell itself isn’t working.
“You might as well give up.” I turn to see Angelo standing on the other side of the bars.
“No. I’m not leaving.”
“The cell is enchanted, Trinket. You’re magic won’t work here.”
“I’m not leaving,” I repeat.
“The ship comes at three.”
I glance past him to the clock on the wall. It’s two fifteen. “Don’t I at least get to pack?” I ask.
“Sorry, no. You’re a flight risk.”
Damned right I am. I’ve spent the last night tossing and turning in a twin bed that’s shoved back into a corner of my cell, trying to figure something out. It hasn’t worked, and I’m afraid I’m running out of time.
“You have visitors, though.”
“Is it someone with a gun? I want to shoot you.”
“You’re leaving soon. You should say your goodbyes.”