Page 44 of Oohs, Ahhhs, and Orbs

“Hey, little witch.”

“Hey, Detective.” Bridgette sounded tired, and I doubted that she got much sleep after I left her in the middle of the night. “I was thinking about something. The murder case. Something had been bugging me about it and I-”

I closed my eyes at what I had to do until I could fix the fucking mess my Captain had put me in. “Sorry, Bridgette. I have to stop you there. I can’t talk to you about the case anymore. I’m under orders to keep you out of it completely.”

“Wait. Are you serious, Logan?” she asked, her tone full of incredulity. I grimaced.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, little witch. I was threatened to be pulled off the case, too, if I shared any details with you about it.” I hated every word and wanted nothing more than to pull them back. I knew Bridgette was vital to the investigation. She had information about things that I didn’t know. Her knowledge was indispensable and vital to the case. “Listen, I’m going to do what I can to get my Captain to change his mind, okay? Until then, hold on. Tell me later.”

Her voice was quiet as she responded, and I hated it. “Okay, Detective. I understand.”

I yanked at my hair, then ran a hand through it. “I have to go. I will see you in a few hours. Be safe for me. Okay?”

“Okay, Logan. See you soon.”

I stood there staring down at the black screen of my phone after she hung up. Then, I pulled back my fist and hit the wall.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

BRIDGETTE

Istared down at my phone after hanging up. I didn’t have a clue why I was suddenly dismissed from being used as a knowledgeable expert on the investigation, and I didn’t know if Logan was even allowed to explain it to me. A part of me was furious. Another witch was just killed; now wasn’t the time to be playing bureaucratic games. But the larger side of me was sad.

I looked back out the window at the dark skies and heavy clouds that were threatening rain. I had been staring at the sky in the same way just a few minutes ago, wondering what in the hell I was missing. I had been turning over all the clues and knew we were missing some vital parts when it finally hit me.

Each murder had been during the phases of the moon. The first one was on the night of the third-quarter moon. The second was during the new moon. Last night was the first-quarter moon phase. If what I believed was true, then the final murder and the most important one would be during the full moon.

I opened my phone and looked down at the app I had been studying before calling Logan. The moon was going to be full insix nights from now. We had six days to figure out the bullshit and stop anyone else from dying. I knew in my gut that I was the next witch in line to be killed. I squeezed my hand tightly around my phone as anger bubbled inside me. Let them come. I was more than capable of stopping whoever it was. I’d be damned if anymore witches had to die to appease a power hungry monster. They wanted my magic? Well, come and get it then.

I’d be waiting.

I walked down the stairs and straight through the shop to the front door. I flipped the sign over to OPEN and unlocked it. Turning around, I surveyed Oohs, Ahhhs, and Orbs, seeing the place with a critical eye. I loved my store, the same way my grandmother had before me. It was my birthright, my destiny, and one day, it would be my legacy.

Glancing around, I noticed nothing out of place for the first time that I could remember. Sending out a small wave of magic, I essentially checked the pulse of the shop. Everything was as it should be on the surface, so I dug deeper. There, under the usual thrum of magic, was tension. And an almost palpable fear.

I walked over and picked up Mildred, feeling a slight tremble coming from her in my hands.

“Sweet Mildred,” I murmured and glanced around at everyone else before looking up into the corner to see my beautiful guardian crow huddled watchfully on his shelf. “You have nothing to fear,” I called out. “I will protect everything in this shop. I swear this to you.” I looked back down at Mildred to see her shiver in my hands. I stroked a finger down one of the amethysts that decorated her skull. “I see,” I said sadly. “You aren’t worried about yourselves.” I gently set her back onto her place in front of the door so she could see everyone as they came and went.

I walked around the shop, sliding my fingers along the shelves, caressing my figurines as I did. “I promise, I will besafe. Please do not worry. I’m a Waters witch. I come from a long line of badass women.” I paused as I circled back around to Mildred and touched her cold cheek, smiling at the shimmy of excitement under my fingertip. “The Waters’ have always been the most powerful witches in the area since we moved here more than two hundred years ago, and I carry the most magic that the family line has ever seen.” I leaned forward and kissed the black cheek. “So don’t worry.”

I turned around and strode to the counter, ready to start the day. I pushed away all thoughts of Logan and decreed that I was no longer a part of the investigation. Reaching inside the glass case, I withdrew the athames from the day before and set them gently onto the counter. I gathered my materials and lost myself in the consuming task of polishing every inch of metal and stone.

I saved the newest athame for last. I picked up the sharp instrument and held it to the light, turning it back and forth, watching as the light picked up the facets of the stones. I was more sure than ever that they were garnets. The dark red of the stones looked so much like spilled blood. Garnets were known for the heart, blood, and passion. Some people have referred to them as blood red, and it was easy to see why. What I should not be seeing, though, was the effect of spilled blood swirling inside the stones.

I shook my head at my fancifulness, sure that it was simply a trick of the lighting along with the way the facets were cut. I picked up the bottle of polish that I had concocted myself a couple of years ago and applied a small amount to the cloth. Carefully and meticulously, I rubbed in small circles, careful to reach every groove of the ornate metal.

“I need to call the estate manager,” I murmured to myself. I wanted to find out more about the witch the athame had come from. It was so unusual for a full blooded witch to not have a relative to pass their instruments to. The witch would have atleast had the basics to go along with the athame, like a pestle and mortar, possibly a cauldron. They would definitely have had a set of spell books.

While lost in thought, Mortimer startled me by jumping onto the counter. He let out a hiss that I had never heard from him before. It was loud and vicious, one a cat would aim at something they either truly hated, or were terrified of. Before I could do anything other than stare in disbelief at his out of character behavior, he swiped out one large black paw. Instinct had me jumping back, not wanting his murder mittens to maim my hand.

In all the mayhem, my hand clenched tightly around the thin blade. With a hiss of my own, I dropped the dagger to the floor. “Fuck!” I cried out, holding my bleeding hand to my chest and staring down at the athame. “Mortimer! Stop it! I swear I’m going to send you to Grandmother in a crate with no holes if you don’t stop this nonsense.” I shoved him off the counter, and he ran to his tower in the corner with an angry growl. I shook my head at him as he glared at me and began licking his paw.

Worried that one of the garnets might have been chipped or worse, I bent down to pick up the athame. I held it carefully in both hands and inspected it for damage under the light. I didn’t see any chips or breaks, but a drop of my blood caught my eye.

“Damn. Now I’m going to have to start all over again. I hope you’re happy, Mortimer.” I picked up the cloth I’d been using, but as I moved to clean off the blood, I watched as the droplet began moving. In fascination, I stared while it slid up the edge of the blade. When it reached the hilt, it seemed to slide under the metal, somehow being absorbed into the athame itself.

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