Magic & Mercy Read online

  “I don’t know where Marley gets her acumen,” Hazel said, placing the homework in her bag. “As a reward for actually completing an assignment, however messy, I’ve decided to focus on rune tiles today.”

  “To tell fortunes, or use as weapons?” I asked. I was happy with either option. Anything was better than another tour of the witchy alphabet.

  “Weapons is a bit of a misdescription,” Hazel said. She took the seat across from me and emptied the drawstring bag of tiles. “I thought it would be useful to learn a few defensive spells. You can carry the runes in your handbag for emergency purposes.”

  “Like a can of mace,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “Sounds good to me.” I angled my head. “Is this because of the incident at the ceramic factory?” Recently, I’d had to defend myself against a violent centaur in a room full of garden gnomes. Thanks to magic I’d learned from the Master-in-Familiar Arts, I was able to rally the gnomes and protect myself.

  Hazel made a noise at the back of her throat. “Let’s just say that trouble has a way of finding you, Ember. Your aunt would like to know that you can keep yourself safe without creating a spectacle.”

  Bells rang in my head. “So this wasn’t your idea at all! You don’t care if I can defend myself with runes.”

  Hazel braided her stubby fingers. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I care.”

  “Then why not teach me defensive runes before now?” I challenged her.

  “Because lessons should be taught in a certain order and in a certain way,” she snapped. “Not at the pleasure of her ladyship.”

  Uh oh. Hazel was clearly bent out of shape by my aunt’s request. “It’s okay, Hazel. Your head won’t explode because you taught a lesson out of order. The fabric of the universe will remain intact. Promise.”

  Hazel struggled to hold her tongue. “Were you this challenging in school?”

  I pretended to examine my nails. “Mrs. Killarney said I was an absolute joy to have in class.”

  “One teacher in all your years of education is hardly a ringing endorsement.”

  “Plus, I wasn’t her student,” I said. “I was in the classroom next door, but I was so loud, she claimed she could hear me even when I sneezed.”

  Hazel rolled her eyes. “Why does this news not surprise me? I’m going to start with this tile here.” She set the small square in front of me. The marking was in the shape of a crooked ‘H’.

  “Aw, that’s so sweet. ‘H’ for Hazel,” I said, picking up the tile to study it. She should have started with ‘C’ for Crazel.

  “This rune carries many possibilities,” Hazel said. “In fortune telling, it represents difficult changes ahead and the need to embrace them rather than fear them.”

  I knew a certain vampire that could benefit from this particular rune.

  “In magic, it represents the idea of transformation,” Hazel continued.

  “Are we talking ugly duckling into beautiful swan type transformations?” I queried. I had a small roll of fat around my stomach that could do with a transformative spell.

  “If that transformation would protect you from harm, then I guess so,” Hazel said. “The meaning is flexible, depending on your needs. I was thinking more along the lines of invisibility, for your purposes.”

  My breathing hitched. “This rune can make me invisible?”

  She nodded. “If you perform the spell correctly, then yes.”

  I traced the carving of the ‘H’ with my index finger. “Why not just astral project like Marigold taught me?” Marigold was the Mistress-of-Psychic Skills and only slightly less crazy than Hazel.

  “Because astral projection doesn’t render you invisible,” Hazel said. “In fact, it leaves you in a vulnerable state with your physical body in one place and your consciousness running around somewhere else. I wouldn’t recommend it for defensive purposes.”

  “I won’t tell Marigold that if you won’t,” I said. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that the two witches were competitive when it came to their areas of expertise. One was as uptight as the other.

  “Take the rune and press into the palm of your hand,” Hazel instructed.

  “Like I’m branding myself?”

  Her brow wrinkled. “You do have a violent streak, don’t you?”

  “It was an innocent question.”

  “No, not like you’re branding yourself. Simply so the rune is secure and doesn’t fall to the ground. You lose the rune, you lose your chance to do magic.”

  “What if I have my wand?” I countered.

  Hazel gave an exasperated sigh. “An assailant can see a wand coming a mile away. A rune is more difficult to detect. You can take someone by surprise, which could mean the difference between life and death.”

  I tapped the corner of the rune on the table, thinking. “Why was I able to use magic without any objects back in New Jersey?” Granted, it was only one time, but I didn’t have a wand or runes then. Hell, I didn’t even know magic was real.

  Hazel placed a hand over mine to stop the tapping. “Please don’t do that. You’ll damage the rune.” When I stopped tapping, she continued. “You’re talking about the rain?”

  I nodded. When violent mobster Jimmy ‘the Lighter’ Litano came after me, I somehow summoned the strength of Mother Nature to save myself. He’d set my car on fire and I’d brought down a rainstorm to douse the flames. It was the whole reason I was in Starry Hollow now.

  “You were under tremendous stress,” Hazel said. “And you’re a Rose, don’t forget. Your family has a way of manifesting magic that dwarfs your average coven witch.”

  “So why couldn’t I do that again?” I asked. “Why the runes and the wand?”

  Hazel leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know. Why did you rely on a wand to bring the ceramic garden gnomes to life? Why not summon a bolt of lightning instead?”

  I drummed my fingers on the table. “In the ceramics factory, I was thinking about how to defend myself. With Jimmy, I didn’t think at all. I just reacted.”

  “You have more control with a wand or a rune,” Hazel said. “You were lucky with the storm you summoned. You could’ve killed an innocent person or yourself in the process. Runes and your wand—those are tools you use to focus your powers until you’re advanced enough to do without them. Even your cousins favor their wands, and they’re more than capable of practicing magic without them.”

  Yes, I’d seen my cousins in action against Jimmy the Lighter. They were a formidable trio. If I could develop my magic to that level, I’d never worry about my safety again.

  I touched the rune again. “Congratulations, Hazel. You’ve convinced me. Now, how do I make myself invisible?”

  Marley and I stood on the front step of Palmetto House. From the blue wrought iron balconies to the Silver Moon flag that waved in the breeze, the beautiful building never failed to impress me. Linnea always had a fresh batch of flowers woven into the scalloped wrought iron, like a tactile tapestry.

  "Now, Marley," I said. "Rick is a fairly big guy with horns, but you don't need to be intimidated. He's incredibly nice."

  Marley gave me an exasperated look. “I’ve seen him at the beach, remember? And since when would I be intimidated by someone based on his looks? That's not the daughter you've raised. I only judge books by their covers.”

  The front door clicked open.

  "Welcome to Palmetto House," an unfamiliar man greeted us.

  "Um, thank you," I said. "Where's Linnea?"

  “The lady of the house is making final preparations in the kitchen. Do come in."

  Marley and I entered the main living area and I took a moment to admire the parquet floor and traditional throw rugs. The fireplace was decorated with a string of fairy lights that reflected the silver of the marble. Unsurprisingly, my cousin had excellent taste.

  "Let me guess," I said. "You’re here for the butler conference."

  The man smiled at me. "I believe you mean PEMA, the Paranormal Estate Management Ass
ociation conference. How do you do? My name is Bates. This is my third year attending, but my first time staying at Palmetto House. It's a fine establishment. Very fine, indeed.”

  Marley zeroed in on the man's hands. "Do you always wear white gloves?"

  I understood the implication. Bates was not on duty while at the conference. Why bother with the white glove treatment?

  Bates laughed softly. "Habit, miss. My hands would feel naked without my gloves after all these years. I've even been known to wear them to the beach."

  "That must make for some sweaty palms," Marley said.

  "Perhaps," he said, "but as a household manager, our motto is never let them see you sweat."

  "I'm pretty sure that motto has been taken," I said. By a deodorant company.

  Linnea glided into the room, her white-blond hair in a tight braid and a serene smile on her face. She seemed genuinely pleased to have company tonight. "So glad the two of you are here. Everyone else is in the dining room." She nudged Bates. "What did I tell you about answering the door? You don't work for Palmetto House, Bates. You’re a guest. You need to act like one."

  A blush crept into the older man's cheeks. "Again, a creature of habit. I find it difficult to do nothing."

  Linnea took him by the shoulders and guided him toward the dining room. "You won't be doing nothing. You'll be getting to know the other guests and showing everyone how marvelous you are."

  Marley and I exchanged amused looks. Butlers weren’t so different from mothers.

  The dining room was already lively when we arrived. Bryn and Hudson were at opposite ends of the table, engaged in their usual sibling banter.

  "I separated them at the table," Linnea said, "but they still find a way to aggravate each other from a distance.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders. "Teenagers. What can you do?"

  Bates nodded sagely. "I completely understand. I’ve served my estate through quite a few teenagers."

  "And were they as unruly as mine?" Linnea asked.

  "Oh, my dear. You should thank your lucky stars that the Goddess of the Moon blessed you with such wonderful offspring. You don't want to hear the scenes I’ve witnessed."

  I took a seat beside another stranger. He was younger than Bates, with straight, dark hair and a hint of Asian ancestry.

  “Ember, Marley," Linnea said. "I'd like you to meet Trevor Jenkins, another guest of the inn.”

  Jenkins stood to shake my hand. “A pleasure.” He gave Marley a curt nod. "Young Miss."

  “You’re a butler, too?” Marley asked.

  “That’s right,” Jenkins replied. “I work for Lawrence Stanhope.”

  "Marley, this other gentleman is Rick," I said. "He co-owns Paradise Found, that cool garden center I told you about."

  Marley's face lit up. "I'd love to see it sometime. Mom says you have a maze. I love mazes."

  "We've designed the entire outdoor portion of the garden center as a maze,” Rick said. "My business partner thought it was a clever idea because I'm a minotaur."

  Marley's brow furrowed. "You don't have any horns or a bull face. Are there minotaur shifters?"

  Rick smiled indulgently. "I chose a human form for dinner tonight. I guess we’re sort of like shifters. Minotaurs who want to shift to a human form have to use magic. We can’t shift at will like your cousins here." He tilted his head toward Bryn.

  "How do you use magic if you’re a minotaur?" Marley asked. "Do you pay someone to make you a custom potion?"

  Rick's brown eyes widened. "I have a feeling you're going to follow in your mother's inquisitive footsteps."

  “It’s nice that you said ‘inquisitive’ instead of ‘nosy,’” I interjected.

  "I don't think so," Marley said matter-of-factly. "I'm more interested in the magical sciences. I'll decide next year, once my magic manifests."

  Inwardly, I groaned. Marley was sure she’d come into her magic at eleven like most witches. There was a chance, however, that she would inherit her father's human genes and develop no magic at all. She seemed to think that because I was a descendent of the One True Witch that my magic would be strong enough to overpower her father's DNA. It didn't work for Linnea, though, so I had my doubts.

  "I was employed by the estate where a wizard once lived,” Bates said. "A lovely chap, also very interested in the magical sciences. He had an entire room devoted to potions. Called it the mixology room, which, I admit, is not very clever.”

  Marley's excitement was palpable. "The whole room? Like a craft room?"

  "Bigger," Bates replied. "The size of a laboratory."

  "You said you were employed by the estate rather than by the wizard," I said. "What do you mean by that?"

  “The butler is attached to the home rather than the paranormal who lives there," Bates explained. "When the home changes hands for any reason, I remain at Brigadoon. I don’t leave to join the family elsewhere. I serve the estate first and foremost."

  "Exactly," Jenkins said. “Most paranormals think we work for the owner of the home. That's why I always say I work for Mr. Stanhope. Makes it easier.”

  "I've heard of the Stanhopes," Bates said. "I met one of their butlers here last year. A gent by the name of Higgins.”

  Jenkins took a sip from his water goblet. "Yes. Higgins works for the estate owned by Mr. Stanhope's sister, Lottie. This is my first year attending the conference. Mr. Stanhope heard such good things about it from his sister that he decided it would be worth doing without me for a few days."

  "What do they do when you're gone?" I asked. "Do they have substitute butlers?"

  I tried to imagine Aunt Hyacinth coping without Simon. It wouldn't surprise me in the least to learn that the conference was held in Starry Hollow so that Simon could still resume his duties in the evenings upon his return.

  “The master of Brigadoon travels whilst I attend," Bates said. "He has a home in St. Tropez and separate household staff to attend to him there."

  I whistled. "Must be nice."

  "Mr. Stanhope is staying with extended family in England," Jenkins said. "His sister recently died and the family has been in mourning."

  "That's a shame," Linnea said. "Were they close?" She looked from Hudson to Bryn. "Please say they were close."

  "I would say they were cordial," Jenkins said. "I look forward to seeing Higgins tomorrow to pay my respects."

  "Do you think Higgins will be here this year?” I asked.

  "Like Bates said, the butler remains with the estate," Jenkins said. "Higgins is here for the house, not so much the family that occupies it.”

  "Will the estate change hands?" Marley asked. "Maybe a new family will move in, one with small kids."

  "I believe the estate has been left to Lottie's adult daughter, Laura. She has her own home, Nightingale, so I'm not sure what her intentions are regarding her late mother’s estate.”

  “What’s it like becoming witch at such a late stage?” Bates asked. He immediately realized how his question sounded. “Apologies, I meant a late stage for a magic user, not to suggest you’re as old and decrepit as me.”

  “I knew what you meant, Bates. As it happens, I’ll be engaged in my first broomstick lesson tomorrow. It’s the first step toward my license, so knock wood for me."

  "And where will this moment in history take place?" Rick asked. "Any chance I can buy a ticket?"

  I swallowed the rest of my wine. "Bystanders probably aren’t safe. I enjoyed flying as part of the local broomstick tour, but doing it on my own will be an entirely different experience."

  "Don't sell yourself short," Linnea said. "You are a Rose, after all. Flying is in our blood."

  I noticed Marley's expression shift. "What's wrong, Marley?

  She fiddled with her cutlery. "Maybe you’re right and I’ll inherit more of Dad's genes. I'm afraid of heights. If flying is in the Rose genes, maybe that means I don't have the right ones.” Her voice cracked. “So I won't come into my magic next year."

  I gave her arm a soft squeez
e. "Let's not worry about that right now, okay? It’s nothing we can control. And we don't worry about things that we can't control, do we?" We learned that lesson the hard way.

  "Your mother's right," Linnea said. "It's best to surrender to what is, rather than what you wish it would be."

  Hudson snorted. "Mom, you're so profound."

  Linnea narrowed her eyes at her son. "Save your sarcasm for dessert. It goes down easier with whipped cream.”

  “Everything goes down easier with whipped cream,” Bates said cheerfully. “I had one young master who insisted his broccoli be bathed in it before he would agree to eat it.”

  Hudson’s head jerked toward his mother. “Can we try that?”

  “Absolutely not,” Linnea replied.

  Marley smiled at me. “Would you try it with brussel sprouts?”

  “You could deep fry them or coat them in chocolate,” I said. “Still not happening.”

  Marley addressed the rest of the table. “And she thinks I’m the picky eater.”

  “Did you tell your cousins about your gift from Aunt Hyacinth?” I asked.

  “A unicorn,” Marley said.

  Linnea’s fork hovered above her plate. “And you agreed?”

  “I thought it best not to look a gift unicorn in the mouth,” I replied.

  “Tread carefully,” Linnea warned. “Most of the time, Mother means well. Once in a blood moon, however, she means something else entirely. You don’t want to wake up one day and discover she owns you.”

  “We’re already indebted to her,” I said. The cottage, the job, the car—my aunt wasn’t wrong to mention those things.

  Linnea flashed a bright smile, clearly intended to put everyone at ease. “Every loving family has its thorns, especially the Roses. Just be careful, Ember.”

  My heart thumped against my chest. “I will.”

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, I dragged myself to the offices of Vox Populi, the weekly paper owned by my aunt and my place of employment. I dreaded coming to work, knowing that Alec wouldn't be here. The editor-in-chief had been away for two weeks now. Although he kept in contact with Tanya, the office manager, he didn't reach out to me. I deserved it, not that he realized that. I’d recently cast a spell on him that made him act the opposite of his normal personality. With the misguided flick of a wand, he was the Alec Hale he was meant to be — fun-loving, open, and honest. Not the incommunicative vampire we were used to. The one who refused to call me by first name in order to maintain emotional distance. He was so mortified after returning to his stoic state that he left town without a word to anyone except Tonya.