Secret Spells in Witchwood Page 4

  He hummed. “I’m always training.” He looked around the room with a wide grin. “Plus, empty stomach and everything.” His eyes shifted to the seat at his other side where Bella sat. “And—and—I don’t want to—” he leaned in close to whisper, “be on the front page of some magazine for drinking.”

  Yan tapped my shoulder, pulling me away from Elliott.

  “I find it completely fascinating,” he began.

  “Sorry?”

  He chuckled. “Witches have always fascinated me.”

  “There’s a lot to be fascinated by.” I knew this from experience as an inspector for the Witches Council. It was rare I came across a human with such a fascination that wasn’t also a threat under investigation.

  “I should’ve said, earlier,” he began. “I teach—”

  A clang rang as metal came against a glass. “Let’s eat,” Vivian said from the foot of the table.

  I dipped a little bread into the soup, my hands acted on their own accord, as hunger did to anyone. I allowed myself to be taken over as the belly grumbles controlled me. My eyes rolled at the sweetness and tang to the soup.

  Looking up, I noticed Camilla’s face stared down into her soup. She stirred with a spoon, over and over. Beside her was Conrad, nudging her with his elbow while he clenched a spoon in each hand. They both had tanned skin compared to the rest of their family, which I gathered was from travelling.

  “Sorry,” Yan said, pulling me out of my stare.

  “Yes,” I said, blotting my lips gently with a napkin.

  “I teach occult studies,” he said. “An extremely vocational path.”

  I’d heard of this, but I’d never met a student or teacher. “Fascinating,” I replied. “So, that’s how you knew I—”

  He nodded. “You have all the signs of a modern-day witch,” he said. “The rings, the aura,” he chuckled slightly. “I can’t really read them, but I know a witch’s aura when it’s around me.”

  “And have you come across many?”

  He shrugged. “A handful,” he said. “You know how the rich are.”

  We glanced around the room, assuming we were both talking about the same thing. I gathered I wasn’t the first witch to have been here. Although it did spark a thought; I’d have to be careful, perhaps mask myself in future.

  “Where do you buy your crystals from?” he asked as I took a second dip into the soup with a little more of the cracker bread.

  “Here and there,” I replied.

  He grinned. “There’s an excellent shop just outside Witchwood.” He snapped his fingers and bounced one knee. “Matilda’s,” he said. “That’s the name of the shop.”

  I’d have to check it out.

  An intense groan broke the sound of cutlery scraping against ceramic and small talk happening around the table. An erupting coughing fit followed.

  ELEVEN

  All eyes darted to the head of the table, specifically, Bella. She continued to let out a deep groan from the back of her throat as she tipped her head and stuffed her mouth with her fingers, licking them clean.

  An odd spectacle to witness.

  “How do you make it stop?” Elliott grumbled, placing his spoon on the table as he inched closer in my direction.

  Wiping her fingers clean, Bella took a deep gasp. “Delicious,” she declared. “Absolutely divine.”

  Ezra and his wife Margot were the first to laugh and clap at the situation. Looking up and down the table, I noticed Doctor Jones beside Yan, and she didn’t look pleased with the situation. Her lips moved as she spoke to the professor.

  My eyes caught Camilla’s eyes once again. She shook her head before staring back at the bowl of soup.

  “Bella is always after attention,” Yan said, his mouth up close to my ear. A heavy shiver travelled through my back.

  People needed to stop catching me off-guard like that. I focused on what he’d said. Clearly, they’d all met before. Close friends? “Not your first time here?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Occasional guests,” he said.

  It’s why they were so comfortable.

  At the end of the table, at Vivian’s left-hand side and next to Conrad was a man in the long cream trench coat. He’d pulled Bella from my side, which I was grateful for. She seemed to have an agenda, and I felt sorry for Elliott, having to sit next to her. I wasn’t as sorry for her other seating partner, Rory, in his pinstripes and smell of damp mould.

  I cleaned my palette with a little water before eating a little more soup. It helped settle the nerves in my stomach, even more so now knowing that everyone knew each other.

  Vivian stood. “For those who’ve been to a dinner here before, you’ll know we bring many guests through the manor doors,” she began, her eyes darting to me. “Tonight, we have a very special guest. Someone from our very front door.” Outstretching a single arm, she pointed to me. “We have Evanora Lavender.”

  Applause came, even I began to clap out of awkwardness.

  “The guest of honour,” Yan said with a smirking nod.

  “Evanora is a witch,” Vivian said.

  My throat constricted at a hard gulp. I wasn’t sure if I should stand, wave, or say something. So I did nothing. I sat still, my wide eyes looked around.

  “We’ve had our fair share of peculiarities in the Kingsway manor house,” Ezra said. “Perhaps you’d like to introduce yourself properly.”

  No. I forced my body to stay still, but instead, I stood, like I was being picked up by the shoulders of my dress. “Hello,” I said, looking around and waving. “I’m Evanora. Nora for short.”

  “Witches,” a scoff came across the table from Camilla.

  Her mother slammed a hand on the table, cutting silence through everyone and all eyes were on me. Uncomfortably so.

  “Yes, I’m a witch,” I stated. “But I’m not some wart-riddled hag who rides a broomstick. There’s more to it, spiritually speaking,” I said. “Take tonight, tonight is a full moon, and after this lovely dinner, I’ll be home in my garden to perform a ritual. Well, a blessing ceremony.”

  “Why don’t we all do it?” Ezra asked.

  A knee-jerk head shake came from me almost immediately. “It’s only for witches,” I said. “Plus, it takes a lot of preparing when there’s more than one person.”

  As a witch without a coven, I was a lone ranger in the witching community. I had no ties to anyone, other than family, but magical ties were significantly thicker than blood.

  “Perhaps another time,” Ezra said with a sigh as he rubbed his hands. “I’d love to see something like that.”

  I smiled and nodded as he took his seat again.

  “We’ll happily pay you,” Vivian said, gesturing to the room we were in. The lavish and luxury in which we sat. Money was no object.

  “We can definitely talk about it,” I said. “Does anyone have any questions?”

  Rory spoke up. “What do you do–y’know, for work?” he smirked.

  I couldn’t come out with it, I couldn’t tell them I was a detective for the Council. “I teach,” I said, as it wasn’t a lie, I was teaching—or in the coming days I would be.

  Finally, able to sit down again after satisfying their questions, but I could feel the professor’s eyes on me, his heated glare, I knew he had a thousand questions.

  I turned to Elliott. “Scary, huh?” I said.

  “I didn’t know,” he said.

  “It’s not all as hocus pocus as you’d think,” I chuckled.

  He smiled. “Is it—it real?”

  “Magic?” I asked, gaging his question. “Absolutely.” But I wasn’t going to perform parlour tricks to prove to anyone here.

  The professor tapped my shoulder. “I’m impressed,” he said. “Usually there are some vultures here who’d do anything to get you to perform.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “I’m sure some witches would,” I said, glancing around the room. “Money can be a powerful motivator.”

  “You speak as som
eone with experience.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, waving a hand at the idea.

  His eyes wandered to the side of my face. “You have gorgeous hair,” he said. “Can I—can I have a little?”

  I shuffled back in my chair. “Serious?”

  He shrugged. “Well?”

  “No.”

  Thud.

  Conrad stood, his chair flying back against the wall. “I—I—I—” he began, tears dripping down his cheek. “I’ve had it!”

  TWELVE

  Quickly, Conrad moved to stand by the towering dining room doors. He stomped his feet on the ground like a bull ready to charge.

  “Had it!” he scoffed.

  “Sit down,” his mother said, helping herself to the glass of wine. “You’re making a scene.”

  “Making a scene? Making a scene!”

  His brother, who’d so far been absorbed in a world of his own beside his fiancée took a stand. “Sit down, Conrad,” he said, puffing out his chest.

  “So they can parade me around like a performing animal?” he said, his fingers scrunched into his palms, forming fists.

  “Performing animal?” Vivian sneered. “Think highly of yourself.”

  He screeched behind his clenched teeth, pulling the dining room doors open and stomping out. The door slammed shut behind him. The sound was amplified by the utter silence that had taken over.

  Nobody wanted to speak, nobody wanted to say a word. I know I didn’t. I didn’t look up from my plate.

  “Another round of drinks,” Margot declared, holding her wine glass high.

  The whirring wheel sound came again as the cart came through a separate door, pushed by the maid.

  “Drinks,” the butler said, pulling a bottle of wine from a bucket filled with water and ice sloshing around.

  I shook my head and held my hand over my wine glass once again.

  The maid collected the starter course dishes on her trolley.

  “I was starving, but I couldn’t eat,” Elliott said in a whisper once the maid had collected his half-eaten dish of soup. “The pork should be good, glad it’s not red meat.” He clenched his stomach.

  “Ask for some bread.”

  He shook his head quickly. “I don’t—”

  The maid collected Doctor Jones’ dish. “Excuse me,” I said, holding a hand up to her. “Could I have a little bread, to clean my palette?”

  She smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

  “I’ll take some too,” Yan said with a toothy smile. He raised his eyebrows at me. “Good idea.”

  It wasn’t actually to clean my palette; the soup didn’t leave any such aftertaste. It was for a young man with a growling stomach.

  In the silence, I took a moment to think about Conrad and how he’d reacted. So far, he hadn’t been paraded to any of us, but there was no sympathy from any of the family. Money seemed to be the motivating factor in this family.

  “I’m nervous too,” Elliott said, his eyes darting to the side.

  Beside him, Bella sat with a notepad and pen on display on the table. Everyone else was talking to each other. Bella and Rory, the Yan and Doctor Jones, the man, still wrapped in his beige coat talked to Vivian, Margot and Ezra. Everyone talked while Camilla sat alone, staring in my direction.

  “You’re fine,” I said. I took his hand in mine, transferring a little calming energy into his clammy palms. “Why are you so worried?”

  “They gave my family a lot of money,” he said. “I’m just—”

  “What’s the worst they could ask you to do?” I said, offering him a warm smile. “Probably ask you to show them some moves, you know, something they’ve sponsored.”

  He nodded. “Probably.”

  “Probably,” I said. “Or, nothing at all.”

  A blonde girl approached us, dressed in chef whites, different from the woman who’d entered earlier. She carried a small plate with slices of chopped up baguette.

  “The bread you asked for,” she said, placing the plate in front of me.

  Ezra snapped his fingers at the woman, calling her over.

  I tapped the professor on his shoulder and nodded to the plate. Elliott had already grabbed a piece, poking a hole through the spongy centre.

  “You’re supposed to be in the kitchen,” Ezra said, trying to hush his voice.

  “I was just—”

  “Just? Just? Just not doing your job,” he said. “You’ve been here less than a week.”

  “I thought I was helping,” she replied.

  He scoffed, waving her away with the back of his hand.

  Nobody else seemed to witness the encounter. The poor girl couldn’t have been any older than twenty. She left with her hands behind her back and her head low on her shoulders, walking out through the service door.

  Vivian stood and chimed on her glass with a spoon. “I guess it’s a party now.”

  THIRTEEN

  Before long the chef and the maid came back through with a trolley filled with main course dinner plates. The sweet burnt smell was divine, it filled my lungs. Bella let out another head-turning moan, and she hadn’t even tasted it this time.

  As the dinners were placed before us, I took a moment to admire the plating. The tenderloin on potatoes, and on top of that were the onions and a brown sauce. I inhaled, craning my neck out to linger over the plate as my glasses steamed slightly.

  “Did you hear that?” Elliott said.

  “Sorry?”

  He grinned. “My stomach.”

  “Oh, well I’m sure this will fill you.”

  The professor groaned beside me, swilling his little finger in his mouth. “Those potatoes,” he said. “Every single time we come over, those potatoes are perfect.” He dipped his finger into the creamed potatoes once again.

  “Stop it,” a voice came from beside him, pulled in that direction. I listened in. “You’re not an animal,” Doctor Jones said, “and I will not allow you to ruin our reputation.”

  Yan returned to his upright position, quiet in his return.

  “Go on,” Vivian said once all the dinners were plated, except for the space Conrad had left. “Let’s eat.”

  I dug in. Immediately. I didn’t need to be told twice.

  Cutting through the buttery tenderloin, I scooped a little pork, some potatoes, and onions on a fork. I stuffed it in my mouth, taken aback by all the flavours. Definitely worth the wait, if only for the slight pepper taste to the gravy. My animal instinct told me to press my face to the plate and lick it clean.

  Looking up from my plate as I took a break from the meal, I noticed Camilla stared at the food in silence, swirling a fork in her mashed potatoes. Her brother wasn’t there any longer, and Petra, her other brother’s fiancée was busy clinging to him.

  As I watched, Felix stood from his seat and left Petra. He dipped his head to speak with his mother.

  “Check on your brother,” she said quietly.

  He rolled his eyes. “And what do you want me to do with him?”

  She passed him a key.

  “I have to take a break as well,” Elliott said, startling me.

  “Huh?”

  Placing a hand over his stomach and glancing to his plate. “It’s so rich,” he said with a chuckle.

  The Kingsway family certainly had taste, perhaps too much taste, my senses were overwhelmed.

  “Bella keeps asking questions,” he said, pressing his head closer. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I’m sure it’s innocent.”

  He shook his head. “I usually have a publicist with me, she tells me what to say. I’m not really good at this thing all on my own.”

  I guess it made more sense as to why he was coming to me for advice, perhaps I was his stand-in publicist, except I had no idea what to say. “What’s she asking?”

  “Like, if I’m dating anyone, and where I’m living,” he said, rolling his hands over nervously in his lap. “I’m surprised she hasn’t asked to see the medal.”

&nb
sp; “The medal?” Bella asked, her voice creeping over us both. She stood and inserted herself between us. “You’ve got the medal with you?”

  He shook his head, moving his hand away from his chest and zipping his jacket up to the collar. “No, no.”

  I knew he wasn’t being paranoid now. The reporter was clearly listening to his every word.

  “Probably for the best,” she said. “You don’t want it to be stolen.”

  She sat down again. I looked Elliott over, his face was blank, and his skin was white. I reached for his hand. Cold. “You okay?” I asked quietly. “Maybe you should eat a little more.”

  Squinting his eyes as he looked at me. “I’ll be fine.”

  “If you’re eating, it’s rude to interrupt with a mouthful of food.”

  “Clever,” he grinned, suppressing it slightly. “Thank you.”

  While I continued eating, glancing around the room at all the fancy decoration. I glanced behind myself after noticing Camilla staring once again, thinking perhaps she wasn’t looking at me at all.

  There was a large stained-glass window, but nothing else other than a small blank wall. Looking at her again, she stared at her food, pushing a piece of meat around the swampy mess of mash and gravy.

  “The black sheep,” Yan said.

  “Huh? Who?”

  He nodded to her. “Camilla.”

  I would’ve thought Conrad was, but they both seemed off. They were twins after all. “And her brother?”

  “Probably just down,” he said. “Wouldn’t you be if you’d travelled the world?”

  He had a point. I’d felt blue after retiring and not knowing what I was going to do with my life. I could take a page from their book and travel, but I’d done my fair share of travelling for work.

  Bang.

  I turned away from Yan.

  Camilla’s head was planted in her plate.

  FOURTEEN

  The moment for this to be a joke had passed several moments earlier. Now, we all sat quietly. My hands rested restlessly in my lap.

  Everyone began moving, but I stayed, staring at Camilla as her head unmoved in the plate of food. My eyes followed everything around her, from the way a hand rested on the table beside her head, to the way her glass was stained with lipstick.