Page 11 of Her Dreadful Will
“Have you attempted to remove your restraining cuff?”
“No! God, no. You folks made it clear what would happen if I—”
“Are you in possession of any magical artifacts?”
“No! I don’t have anything, I didn’t do anything, okay? I follow the rules, all the rules. No magic. My life has been hell without it, but do I complain? No. So just leave me alone. Please.”
The bored voice continued dispassionately. “You obtained a selection of items from an estate sale recently.”
“Um, yeah. Of course. I’m always going to estate sales—ow!”
“You’ll find that snark doesn’t play well with us,” said another voice, a female one this time. “What did you get from the estate sale?”
“Just a bunch of random stuff.”
“Are you aware that the sale of magical artifacts without a license, in human venues, or through unsanctioned websites is strictly forbidden?”
“I didn’t sell any—oh god! Please. Please don’t hurt me. I swear I don’t know anything about magical artifacts—”
The woman’s voice. “We can’t determine the truth here. Do we take him back with us, or end our investigation now?”
“You want to hear him whining and shit during the whole trip back?” asked the bored man. “I say we tie off the ends right here.”
Tie off the ends? Soleil’s fingers inched toward the handle of the door. Should she go out there? It wasn’t her business—she didn’t know anything about this man, or what he had done—
Frantically she reached out with her power, searching for the volispheres of the two newcomers, but their circles were too far away for her to enter.
“Look there,” said the bored man, in the dullest of tones. “He’s trying to remove his restraining cuff.”
“Oh dear. We should probably stop him,” the woman responded.
“What? I didn’t even touch it.” The brown-haired witch’s voice was thin and shaky with terror.
A soft pop—once, and again. Two silenced gunshots.
Soleil clamped her hand across her mouth. Her stomach quivered, bile inching up the back of her throat.
Did they really just—
“Terminated while trying to remove his restraining cuff,” said the woman. “Let’s write it up, clean it up, and move out.” The voice faded as Soleil’s enhanced hearing wore off. With shaking fingers, she pulled out her phone and typed in 911. Then she stared at the numbers.
One of the Convocation’s inviolable rules, one that was drilled into her during her time with the Institute, was never, never to involve human law enforcement in magical affairs. These were clearly magical affairs. If she summoned humans to the scene, she’d have to explain how she heard the conversation—and the body would likely be long gone, along with any evidence, by the time the police arrived. Magical disposal and cleaning methods were pristinely efficient. The police wouldn’t find so much as a hair or a fingerprint.
Were those Convocation enforcers? Did they just kill a man merely because they didn’t want to bother taking him back for questioning?
The Convocation didn’t do things like that. They were strict, yes, but they were a benevolent force, protecting and guiding. They kept witches safe from human discovery and reprisal. And they made sure that witches didn’t harm humans or each other with magic.
But the Convocation representatives were fallible, too. They could make wrong choices, bad decisions. And when they did, someone should confront them.
Soleil worried the sore spot on her lip with her teeth, fighting the tears prickling at her eyes. Why hadn’t she stepped out back sooner? Maybe she could have stopped it.
She could run away, like she did the other night, with the man on the sidewalk. Or she could do the right thing and confront those two suits—let them know that their deed was witnessed.
Gripping the handle, she eased the door quietly ajar.
The exit emptied into a shadowed concrete space, brick walls and crates and a couple of rusty vehicles. The woman Soleil had heard stood several paces away, with her back to the door, waving her right hand across the concrete. A ring glowed yellow on her finger, and flakes of herbs dribbled from her tattooed left hand.
The man was already gone, along with the body of the brown-haired witch.
