take my Jag for a long drive, I take it.”
He sat back in his chair, his long arms loosely folded across his chest and his affable nature disappeared in an instant.
Time for answers.
“So, you know why I’m here. I need you to tell me everything you can about that Book of Shadows your fellow witch found and what you actually did with it, leading up to the time that one of your own was killed.”
His voice was commanding and from the paling of her face, he knew it had the desired effect. The woman had little choice but to tell him the whole story.
She sat back, her hands folded in her lap to stop their trembling. “One of our coven members, Nightwolf Shadow, came across an old book in a small occult bookshop in Glastonbury. He liked the look of the book so he bought it. He said it looked to him like someone’s Book of Shadows and it had some interesting spells in it.”
Quinn leaned forward, his eyes focused on her face.
Misty cleared her throat. “Last summer, on the Solstice, we decided to try one of the spells in the book. It seemed to be a rejuvenation spell and we thought we’d try it on a dead geranium…”
Her voice trailed off. Quinn felt a surge of anger. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward aggressively.
“You tried this spell on a plant? Did you know what the whole spell was about?” He heard the sarcasm in his voice and tried to quell his rising temper.
Misty swallowed again. “I knew most of the chant; there were a few words we thought we knew, but we weren’t a hundred percent sure.” She looked at him hopefully. “The geranium came back to life and even shed a few blossoms. It died shortly after, though.”
“And did you try this spell on anything else?” Quinn asked smoothly.
Misty nodded. “One of the coven’s budgies died and we tried to reanimate it, but the spell didn’t work at all. Nothing at all happened.”
Quinn shook his head in disbelief but didn’t say anything. “And the second spell—where Melody Bright died? How did that all come about?”
Misty’s eyes glimmered with tears. “She had a really bad case of eczema, her body was rife with weeping sores and patchy skin. There was a healing spell in the book we thought we’d try. But instead it let something out. Something dark came out of the book and suffocated her. I killed her.” Her voice was now a whisper and despite his frustration Quinn felt a twinge of sympathy at the desolation in Misty’s eyes. He sat back and shook his head, passing his hands over his eyes tiredly.
“You chanted something when you had no idea what it all meant and got one of your own killed in the process. When will you witches learn these spells aren’t toys to be trifled with at your bloody coven meetings?”
Misty’s face flushed as she stared at him angrily. “Mr. Fairmont, I can assure you I’m not a novice. I do admit I cocked up with this last spell and got one of my coven members killed in the most horrific way imaginable.” Her voice caught. “But I’ve been doing this a long time. I go back three generations as a witch and I’m proud of it. This is the first death I’ve ever been involved in and I can assure you, I dislike it every bit as much as you do. I was responsible for her death, for God’s sake! Do you know what that’s like?”
Quinn’s heart rate increased and he clenched his fists.
Oh yes, I know exactly how that feels, High Priestess.
He ignored her question as he stood up and paced around the room. Finally he stopped and sat back down again. Misty had remained sitting, staring down at the floor as he strode around like a caged lion.
When Quinn spoke again, he tried to be gentle. “I’m sorry if you feel I denigrate your abilities, Misty. I truly don’t mean to. I understand witches better than you think. My mother was one, as was my aunt, the woman who raised me when my parents died. So I’m well aware of you all and your abilities and I have the greatest of respect for them. It’s
He sat back in his chair, his long arms loosely folded across his chest and his affable nature disappeared in an instant.
Time for answers.
“So, you know why I’m here. I need you to tell me everything you can about that Book of Shadows your fellow witch found and what you actually did with it, leading up to the time that one of your own was killed.”
His voice was commanding and from the paling of her face, he knew it had the desired effect. The woman had little choice but to tell him the whole story.
She sat back, her hands folded in her lap to stop their trembling. “One of our coven members, Nightwolf Shadow, came across an old book in a small occult bookshop in Glastonbury. He liked the look of the book so he bought it. He said it looked to him like someone’s Book of Shadows and it had some interesting spells in it.”
Quinn leaned forward, his eyes focused on her face.
Misty cleared her throat. “Last summer, on the Solstice, we decided to try one of the spells in the book. It seemed to be a rejuvenation spell and we thought we’d try it on a dead geranium…”
Her voice trailed off. Quinn felt a surge of anger. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward aggressively.
“You tried this spell on a plant? Did you know what the whole spell was about?” He heard the sarcasm in his voice and tried to quell his rising temper.
Misty swallowed again. “I knew most of the chant; there were a few words we thought we knew, but we weren’t a hundred percent sure.” She looked at him hopefully. “The geranium came back to life and even shed a few blossoms. It died shortly after, though.”
“And did you try this spell on anything else?” Quinn asked smoothly.
Misty nodded. “One of the coven’s budgies died and we tried to reanimate it, but the spell didn’t work at all. Nothing at all happened.”
Quinn shook his head in disbelief but didn’t say anything. “And the second spell—where Melody Bright died? How did that all come about?”
Misty’s eyes glimmered with tears. “She had a really bad case of eczema, her body was rife with weeping sores and patchy skin. There was a healing spell in the book we thought we’d try. But instead it let something out. Something dark came out of the book and suffocated her. I killed her.” Her voice was now a whisper and despite his frustration Quinn felt a twinge of sympathy at the desolation in Misty’s eyes. He sat back and shook his head, passing his hands over his eyes tiredly.
“You chanted something when you had no idea what it all meant and got one of your own killed in the process. When will you witches learn these spells aren’t toys to be trifled with at your bloody coven meetings?”
Misty’s face flushed as she stared at him angrily. “Mr. Fairmont, I can assure you I’m not a novice. I do admit I cocked up with this last spell and got one of my coven members killed in the most horrific way imaginable.” Her voice caught. “But I’ve been doing this a long time. I go back three generations as a witch and I’m proud of it. This is the first death I’ve ever been involved in and I can assure you, I dislike it every bit as much as you do. I was responsible for her death, for God’s sake! Do you know what that’s like?”
Quinn’s heart rate increased and he clenched his fists.
Oh yes, I know exactly how that feels, High Priestess.
He ignored her question as he stood up and paced around the room. Finally he stopped and sat back down again. Misty had remained sitting, staring down at the floor as he strode around like a caged lion.
When Quinn spoke again, he tried to be gentle. “I’m sorry if you feel I denigrate your abilities, Misty. I truly don’t mean to. I understand witches better than you think. My mother was one, as was my aunt, the woman who raised me when my parents died. So I’m well aware of you all and your abilities and I have the greatest of respect for them. It’s
Similar Books
