Secret Spells in Witchwood Page 5

  A warm grasp touched my shoulder.

  “We’re being moved to another room,” the professor said.

  Blinking out of the fixation, I noticed Elliott stood at my other side, staring at me with the expectation to lead him. I pushed from my chair and turned to take my blazer, failing and falling slightly weak on my knees. Yan and Elliot grabbed my arms.

  “Easy on,” Yan said. “We don’t need another fainter.”

  “Feeling okay?” Elliott asked.

  I was fine, just curious. I glanced back while they ushered me out with their arms around me in support. Doctor Jones stood around Camilla, two fingers pressed against her neck, checking for a pulse.

  “My wife knows what she’s doing,” Yan said.

  We were taken to a different room with wood panelling and bookshelves for walls. A study. There were numerous leather chairs, most of which were now occupied. A desk with a computer and several thick tomes stacked high. There was tapestry for a rug. Another room for my breath taken by.

  “This is the study,” Vivian said. “Make yourselves comfortable.” She quickly left, closing the door behind herself.

  I sat on a long leather ottoman by the door, turning to see all the faces in the room. None of the Kingsway family were here, unless I counted Petra as one.

  “Whoa,” Bella said, taking a seat beside me. “You didn’t strike me as a woman who’d go after someone younger.” She nodded to Elliott anxiously pacing.

  “What?” I grumbled. “He’s a boy.”

  “You agree,” she chuckled. “Perhaps he’s into—you know.” She winked and gave me a nudge to the arm.

  “No,” I said.

  She moved again, swiftly slinking an arm around Petra as she stood by the window, looking out into the darkness.

  “Don’t let her bother you,” a rough voice said before the seat shifted and a man sat beside me; the man in the beige coat. “I’m Daniel Daniels,” he said with a smile.

  My eyes locked into a frown, thinking. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, I think my parents should be,” he laughed, revealing the deep creases in his face. “These parties are getting old now.”

  “A regular?” I asked.

  “Well they pay well,” he said. “You should know.”

  Shaking my head, I watched as his face changed from one of friendliness to a look of shock. “They pay you?” I asked.

  He forced a laugh from the back of his throat. “It’s a joke,” he said. “Rich people will do anything.”

  It appeared that way. “And what do you do?”

  He stood chuckling. “You’re funny,” he said, walking away, leaving my question unanswered.

  Inching closer, I nodded to Elliott and patted the seat at my side, hoping no more strangers would occupy its space.

  “I’ve never seen someone die before,” he said, fidgeting with his jacket zipper.

  I shook my head at him. “Nobody said she’s dead.”

  “She looked pretty dead,” he said, unable to keep eye contact.

  I’d seen my fair share of dead people, and none of them were anything like the last, and none of them appeared to be normal at all. “After the way her brother had reacted in his exit, I’m sure they’re both just extremely tired.” I know I would be if I’d spent any time travelling the world.

  He nodded at the thought. “It’ll give Bella something to write about,” he said, scoffing. “I bet she’ll bring my name into it anyway.” He combed a hand through his hair. “Athlete found at rich family death.”

  My gut fluttered at the thought. “I doubt they’d let anything like that get out in the press.” My mind going back to something I’d heard only moments earlier about how the rich could afford anything. They could certainly buy a story from being published.

  The doors opened seconds later. Felix waltzed inside, pulling Petra away from Bella and into his arms in a sweeping romantic gesture. He kissed her and let his finger trail down her neck for a moment. We were all sucked into the moment, watching with transfixed eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he chuckled, looking away. “I was away for only a moment, but it felt like a lifetime.”

  Petra fell slightly, deeper into Felix’s arms.

  He’d removed his dinner jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Odd, given he hadn’t been around for the much of the main course. The more I looked at Felix as he spoke in whispers to Petra, I noticed he wasn’t wearing his tie either, and the top three buttons were undone, revealing the white vest beneath.

  “I wonder if they know what happened?” Elliott asked.

  “Probably,” I said. “But the doctor’s in the dining room, so whatever it is, I’m sure they’ll deal with it.”

  “Doctor Jones is really good,” he said. “She gives me these really good herbal food pouches, they keep my stamina up and help me focus.” He flexed his hands into fists, crushing his hands over his knuckles to crack and pop them.

  “You have a huge team around you then?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Talented people.”

  A twinge of pain pulled my head back.

  Falling.

  Thud.

  Against the wall.

  FIFTEEN

  I pushed forward, pulling my head away, pressing my tongue against my teeth as I tssked in pain.

  Behind me, Yan stood with strands of my hair in his hand.

  “What are you doing?” I said, snatching them from him.

  He stuttered a little. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

  I stood, grinding my teeth in annoyance. “Don’t do that,” I said. “Firstly, it hurts, and secondly, I didn’t give you whatever weird and perverse permission it is you were looking for.”

  “I apologise,” he said.

  The door opened, pushing the professor away slightly to make room as the butler joined the room.

  “Elliott,” the butler said.

  “Huh?” he stuttered in his daze. “Yes.”

  “Vivian would like to see you,” he said.

  He looked at me before turning to the butler.

  “Go and see what she wants,” I told him, almost like he’d been searching for me to say something.

  He smiled before vanishing off on the other side of the door with the butler.

  Yan had left when I turned to find him, spinning on a foot. I did find Rory’s eyes glaring at me from the corner, tucked away in a shaded corner as he sat hunched up on a chair.

  “Evanora,” he said with a giant head nod. “Come here.”

  I looked around, hoping someone else would talk to me. The man irked me somewhat, since our initial encounter in the foyer. Everyone else was talking to each other. Felix and Petra had each other, and they’d taken over the seat I was in. Bella, Daniel, and the cowardly professor were talking now. Elliott had left. So, it was the two of us.

  “Hello,” I said, smiling at him in my slow approach.

  “Always exciting to see a beautiful face,” he said.

  Usually, I would’ve blushed, but given the person who’d spoken the words, my face was more inclined to wince.

  He pulled my hand and began kissing it. “Beautiful.”

  “Sorry.” My jaw clenched in a knee-jerk reaction, I pulled my hand free. “I need to use a bathroom,” I said. Mainly to wash my hand from the wetness his lips left. It was sticky, almost like he’d coated his lips in a weird balm.

  I walked off while he watched, the heat of his eyes was unkind on my skin. I pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway.

  The study was down the hall from the dining room and just beside the foyer. The door itself was somewhat camouflaged into the wood panel walls. I didn’t need the toilet, but I’d definitely like something to remove the feeling on the back of my hand. Looking at it in the lamplight, it discoloured my skin.

  I headed in the direction of the dining room in hopes of finding a bathroom, but it was probably hidden in some strange wall door. I half-hoped there’d be a little white placard with ‘bathroom’
written and an arrowhead, pointing toward it.

  A squeak startled me from beneath a side table as I walked.

  A cat.

  “Hello,” I said, dipping to see a fluffy white cat with its back pushed up against the wall. “Let me get a look at you.”

  The cat willingly leapt into my arms. A ball of fur with a face and legs, dangling from it. I wrestled my fingers around its collar, buried in the fur, trying to find a collar or name tag.

  “Maybe you can help me find the bathroom,” I said as I continued strolling down the corridor. After passing the dining room, on the left-hand side was a stairwell.

  I began walking up the stairs, noting they were barely decorated and much slimmer than the staircase in the foyer. In the darkness, a voice from below me sounded.

  “Hello?” I said, turning with the cat in my arm.

  A girl, wiping her hair behind a small white cap approached me. “You’ve found her,” she said. “I was so worried.”

  “She’s yours?” I asked as she held her arms out to receive the cat.

  “Yes, sorry,” she replied. “I’ve only been here a couple days, the new chef’s hand.” She chuckled softly.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “Do you happen to know where the bathroom is?”

  She grumbled a little. “They’re everywhere,” she said. “It’s a bit of a maze in this place.”

  “What’s up here?” I asked.

  “Service workers aren’t supposed to go up there,” she said, nuzzling her nose into the cat’s fur. “But you’re a guest, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t.”

  “Oh,” I said, squinting up the stairs. “I just need a bathroom, really.”

  She shrugged. “You probably have a better chance up there,” she said. “There’s one in the corridor down here, but it’s always hell trying to find it. We have our own quarters.”

  I smiled. She was more verbal than the others. The maid and the butler seemed to have one or two words to say at a time. Not much in the way of conversation. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Do you know what happened to the girl in the dining hall?” she asked.

  “Did you see her?”

  She shook her head. “It’s empty, we’ve just cleared the tables.”

  Perhaps dessert was still on the menu, perhaps Camilla was completely fine. “Well, I should be quick then,” I said.

  The girl left, walking down the stairs, talking to the cat. I stumbled up the stairs, on the hunt for a bathroom. I glanced at the back of my hand to see the lip mark stained like a pink lipstick would.

  “—we should get back,” I heard a voice speak as I reached the top step.

  “Someone has to stay here,” a deeper voice replied.

  I took a single step back, pressing myself against the wall.

  After a couple moments passed and I collected my breath. I took my first step into the hallway. I was in the middle of a hallway, right in the centre. I looked around, moving on my tiptoes.

  The walls were the same shade of red, and similar photos haunted picture frames, eerily watching me as tried to keep my eyes from looking back. There was something strange going on in the Kingsway family home, I could feel it, but the wards around the house wouldn’t let me know what it was.

  At either end of the hall were large windows. The hallway from the left of me had another hallway to it. At one end there was a large opening to a stairwell, the one the family had been presented on when they were introduced in the foyer.

  The other side was completely dark, other than a flash of orange light from beneath the door. The flashing was continuous until it paused, casting dull orange hues out over the floorboards.

  I approached with caution, rubbing the stones across my knuckles and taking deep breaths as I made a silent prayer to the Goddess.

  For all I knew, this was Conrad, he’d stormed off, presumably upstairs. I had no idea. Curiosity and knowing better were taking over. It made me stand my ground as I approached the door with my ears attuned to pick out sound, even the slightest grumble.

  Silence.

  “Evanora.”

  SIXTEEN

  Turning on the spot in the darkness. The rug came from beneath my feet. I reached to grab for something, holding on to a side table, I kept my balance and bearings. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do while wearing heels.

  The butler stood ahead of me.

  “Yes,” I said, removing my grasp from the table against the wall. “Hello.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said with a slow shake of his head.

  I straightened my dress out, pulling it below my knees. “I was looking for the bathroom,” I said. “Some girl, in a white hat told me it was this way.”

  “Girl. White hat. Peculiar,” he said, but his lips didn’t appear to move. “There’s a bathroom downstairs,” he said.

  “Hello?” a soft voice spoke, my ears pricked at the sound.

  I turned again. It came from the room with the orange light.

  “Sorry, again,” I said. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I do mind.”

  “M—m—my n—n—name is Camilla,” a shout came.

  My head turned in a shot, I slowly stepped back against the door. “Is she okay?” I asked.

  “Who?” he replied, following me.

  “The woman behind the door.”

  His large strides quickly gained on mine.

  My back was against the door. I moved my arm and hand around, trying to find the door handle, I saw the orange light between my feet on the floor. “Hello,” I said.

  A muffled scream came. “H—hello.” She rattled the metal handle, twisting and turning it.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I—I—I,” she fell quiet.

  I turned and wrestled with the handle. The butler watched from a couple feet away, his presence craning over me.

  “Is she okay?” I paused to ask him.

  “The doctor has helped her,” he replied.

  Yanking the handle once again, I felt the force of the lock snap with a click. I pushed it, knocking something. On the ground was a hand, appearing from behind the door. “She’s on—”

  “That’s enough,” the butler said, placing himself between me and the door, pulling it shut with a hard slam. “You’re not allowed to be here.”

  “Len,” a concerned voice came from behind me.

  “Anne,” he said.

  I glanced to see the maid standing restlessly with one hand against the wall and another hand against her inflated chest. She gasped, creasing at her stomach to breathe.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, moving quickly to her side.

  I turned once again to reach for the door handle, pushing it open. It was met with both their voices protesting, but I had to know if she was okay, and why it was a secret.

  Once inside the room, I pushed the door shut.

  Camilla was sat at a vanity dresser, looking at herself in the mirror. A smile on her face as she brushed her hair.

  “You okay?” she asked, as I pressed my back against the door, hoping it would deter anyone opening it.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, adjusting my glasses.

  She chuckled. “Completely,” she said. “Sometimes it gets tiring, and I need a little break. You know, travelling with your family’s money is an extremely exhausting activity.”

  A thud came at the door.

  “But you—you were unconscious,” I said.

  She waved a hand at me. “Is anyone ever really conscious?” she said, nodding to me in the mirror. “Think about it.”

  The second thud led to the butler flinging himself into the room, dropping to his knees from the force.

  “Leave Miss Kingsway,” he said, picking himself up by the doorframe.

  “I’m okay, Len,” she replied. “I never really caught up with Evanora during dinner, but I am feeling tired still.”

  The maid poked her head inside. “Dessert will be
served soon, Mrs. Lavender.”

  “Miss,” I replied.

  “Well, Miss Lavender, dessert will be served soon. We should make our way downstairs and save Miss Kingsway from anymore earache,” she said, giving a gentle nod to Camilla.

  “Ahh!” a distant scream hit.

  We looked around. Stunned by the sound.

  SEVENTEEN

  The four of us waited for a moment, listening to any response from the scream. The sheer volume had stopped all of us.

  Peering down the corridor. There was nothing. I stepped passed the maid, swiftly and as fast as I could in the dress. The sound of their feet, stomping behind me in my wake.

  I ran down the steps of the steep white stone staircase to the foyer. They were chasing me; their feet on the wood was heavy. I turned slightly to look up the stairs, but an encroaching darkness blinded me.

  Running ahead was a decision I quickly regretted.

  I was a witness to something horrific.

  In the centre of the marble floor was an off-white sheet, stained with several red patches. I hesitated to leave the bottom step, my fingers trembling around the bannister’s handrail.

  Petra Williams, a rich heiress sobbed at the feet of the body.

  “What happened?” I asked

  She gasped, clutching a handkerchief to her mouth. “I—I—I found him,” she said, bawling in tears. “He’s dead.”

  I wanted to know who, how, when— but my body had been through enough adventure this evening, I couldn’t continue this white-knuckle ride the family called a dinner party. “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head as I approached her. For all I knew, it was her fiancée.

  “No,” she snapped, looking away to dab at the water mascara on her cheeks.

  “It’s okay,” I said, trying to convince myself more than her as I placed my palm on her back, attempting to give her some magical relief.

  She turned and grabbed my hand. “It’s not.”

  Her eyes were bloodshot. Crazed. I severed contact, pulling my hand and looking away.

  From the white sheet, I noticed the hand sticking out slightly. The cuff. Recognisable. I knew who it was. My gut sank.