A small smile came to my lips. He was always so kind, especially to me. “They are.”
He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “Mary, I—”
The church door burst open.
“Brexton, just the person I was looking for,” Mayor Pembroke said earnestly. She was dressed in a light brown sweater that brought out the golden tones in her skin,and her ink-black hair was pulled into a stylish bun. “I heard one of the Steele sisters manifested the symptoms of moonrot. You must visit them. You’re remarkably adept at consoling the inconsolable.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Pembroke.” Brexton stepped back, completely caught off guard.
She looked at Collins on the phone with interest. “Who is Pastor Collins speaking to in such an animated manner?”
“His sister,” Brexton said. “I’ve heard about the Steeles and plan to make a stop by today.”
“Okay good. You’re so good.” Mrs. Pembroke turned to me and gave a little start. “Mary, hello. I didn’t notice you there. Don’t you agree? Brexton is such a great man.”
Red flushed across Brexton’s face. “Mrs. Pembroke, you don’t have to—”
“Nonsense. You know what you need? A nice young woman. There’s nothing better than seeing two wonderful people in love. What about a Steele sister? They’re sweet girls, don’t you think, Mary?”
For some reason, I didn’t like thinking of Brexton with the Steele sisters. “Oh, um...” I was unsure what to say,and I felt Brexton focus his attention on me. As if my answer was more important than it should be. But I had nothing against the Steele sisters, either. “I’m not very familiar with them, but they appear pleasant,” I concluded lamely.
Brexton shoulders dropped as if I’d said the wrong thing.
“Yes, yes. You should ask a Steele girl out,” Mrs. Pembroke pressed him.
Collins was still yelling into his phone. “No, I don’t care what sort of state you’re in, I unequivocally will not—no, no!” He growled as he ended the call, then spun on his heel to find us observing him. “What are you two doing? Don’t you have work to do?” Then he noticed Mrs. Pembroke. “Mrs. Mayor, I missed your arrival. What can I do for you? Can I simply say that your attire at the last town festival was the most festive outfit I have ever seen? Wherever did you get the idea for such a magnificent ensemble?”
And Mrs. Pembroke was soon pulled into a conversation about costume planning. Something she always had plenty to talk about.
“Well, I’m off.” Brexton didn’t meet my gaze. “I’ll see you later, Mary.”
“Bye,” I said, awkwardly. A little unsure what had just happened. “Thanks again for the brownies.”
I made my way into the aged stacks underneath the church. A glamour hid the entrance behind a plain wall, preventing Unmarked from stumbling upon it.
Beneath the old chapel, the archives collection was tucked away in a low-lit room that extended almost the full length of the building above. Shelves lined the stone walls, filled with dusty leather-bound books, parchment scrolls, and a few newer volumes. Long shelves packed the space, and delicate cobwebs hung unapologetically from the timbers above. A creaky wooden floor added to the charm as my soft footsteps echoed, making it feel like a haven for those seeking knowledge of forgotten secrets.
After perusing, I found the timeworn manual I was searching for,Creatures of the Dark: Hexes, Howls and Vampire Fever.I eagerly took it from the shelf. The church kept little information on other species outside of the fae. The ancient fae classified magic that was separate from their own as a form of illness. I supposed in manycases that wasn’t far from the truth, considering Isabella’s illegal business remained necessary today.
Carrying it, I went to a stuffy, old room behind a dilapidated wooden door at the end of the stacks. Duchess walked across the dust strewn floor, not a hint of paw prints in her wake. She gave me an arched look, as if asking what we were doing down here. The air smelled of aged paper and earth. I took a calming breath. Pastor Collins may be the killer and I was brewing a wolfsbane potion right under his feet. Still, it was the best place that had come to mind. After shutting the door and staring at the heaps of unsorted newspapers, I knelt and pulled out the ingredients from my bag, along with Isabella’s journal.
I’d read the instructions over many times. I dumped a couple of bottles of water into the mini cauldron, then lined up the items. The air in the room hummed with the gravity of it, thick with the scent of dried herbs. The liquid swirled in a strange, almost hypnotic dance. My hands trembled as I measured the ingredients, each item carefully chosen: a pinch of moonstone dust, a drop of blackthorn essence, and the crushed petals of a midnight rose.
The recipe was delicate, precise, its potency depending on the smallest detail. I muttered the incantation, my voice low and raspy, the words ancient and foreign on my tongue. My breath came faster, each syllable carrying a weight of power that imbued the air with a heavy, magical charge. My stomach twisted and sweat trickled down my back. If I got one thing wrong, Frank wouldn’t have his wolfsbane in time for the next full moon.
I relaxed as it simmered. Unwrapping the brownies, I quickly ate one of the peanut chocolate-y goodness before carefully cleaning my hands. I opened upCreatures of the Darkand started to read. It was easy to get lost in the different passages and stories inside, but I tried to focus more on what I was looking for. I planned on reading about vampires and werewolves, but found a section on death witches. I turned to that section.
The witch Elera of ancient times had the malady of dark magic. She often communed with the dead. Many who died unexpectedly could not recall the circumstances of their demise, and so Elera claimed to use her powers to assist them. But over time, she sank deeper and deeper into her sinister magic, and it corrupted her, blurring the linebetween the living and the dead. Darkness consumed her, compelling the fae to end her, thus securing the realm.
That was anything but heartwarming. The text seemed to wrap around me as a dark warning. Was I on a shadowy path that would one day lead to my demise?
The alarm on my phone made me jump, causing me to slam the ancient tome shut, initiating a coughing fit as dust rose into my face and tickled my nose.
I’d have to worry about the fate of my soul later. Frank should be waiting for me outside. Rising, I gratefully left the condemning words behind and proceeded through the stacks to the front of the church.
Chapter 8
AftermakingsureCollinsremained in his office working on his next sermon, I proceeded to the doors to the church. I held my palm against the old wood to avoid the squeak from the ungreased hinges as I cracked it open.
