Witch's Bell 1 Read online

  “Cowboy!” she spat as she stalked up to him. She grabbed his arm and yanked him toward her, out of the way of the teetering bookcase and out of the line of danger. “If I had a dollar for every time an arrogant idiot like you got yourself into trouble around magic,” she paused, pushing him to the side as one of the light-fittings fell from the lamp above, “I’d buy you all life insurance and finally cash out. Really, is it so hard to believe in magic?”

  With the now thoroughly surprised detective in hand, Ebony whipped an arm around her head in a small circle. At her feet, a soft blue glow appeared, spiraling outward until it encompassed both her and Nathan Wall with ease.

  Finally, the detective looked surprised. No, that wasn’t quite right. He looked bone-shaken, with pallid skin and a sharp, breathless expression on his face.

  “Now,” Ebony said, her voice soft, “for some reason this store has taken a spectacular disliking to you. He’s never usually quite this rude. But unfortunately for you, you are the one who started it.” She was standing close enough to the detective that she could feel the heat of his breath. “Like it or not, you’re going to have to finish it as well. Now, all you have to do is say one little word.” Her sharp gray-blue eyes twinkled at him. “Just one little word.”

  Nate stood and stared at her, his bottom lip jutting forward. “What on Earth is going—”

  Ebony mouthed, “Sorry,” expressively.

  Finally, the dolt did what he was told. With a quick cough and a startled but sheepish look on his face, he announced, “Sorry,” in a loud voice.

  “Ah,” Ebony clapped her hands together, “finally.”

  The books stopped falling, the magazines stopped fluttering, the bookcases no longer tipped themselves all over the floor, and somehow the open-sign had reverted to its usual place above the door.

  Ebony patted her hair. “Now, that’s certainly a strange way to start the morning.” She clicked her fingers, and the blue circle of protection disappeared from her feet. She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the mess. “Oh, dear.”

  Ben crawled out from underneath a banana-lounge, his round face drooped like a flower. “Damn it, Ebony, are you trying to kill us?”

  “It wasn’t me.” She waved him off with a flick of her hand. “Apparently Harry is in a mood this morning.” She knelt down and started piling books on top of each other, trying to clear a path from the door to the stairs.

  “What’s going on, who’s Harry?” came the gruff voice of Detective Nate behind her. “And what just happened?”

  Ebony rolled her eyes, sighed, and stood up. Ebony Bell was tall and slender with long red hair and sparkling gray-blue eyes. She was hardly a supermodel, though. She wore her face and body like a trophy wife wears a jacket – one for every occasion. Not to say that she literally pulled off her face and slotted a new one in place. It was her expressions, her stance, her body language. At times Ebony would smile, her hair glinting in the sun, her eyes sparkling and warm – and she would look like the most beautiful creature ever born. At other times she would stalk to and fro, her lips pulled, eyes narrowed, fists rolled up – and look like a deadly menace, akin to the most terrifying of hardened criminals. Yet at other times, she would be engaged in the most mundane of tasks and look for all-the-world like a simple, ordinary woman.

  It was a rule with Ebony – whatever she was doing, she became.

  Why?

  Because Ebony Bell was a witch. And the first hallowed rule of witching was becoming.

  “Listen, Detective Nathan Wall. I’m sure you are a little surprised by all this, so let me start at the beginning. My name is Ebony Elizabeth Bell. I am a witch. I own a magical second-hand bookstore. Harry is the name of the spirit who inhabits the store.” She cast around her feet as if looking for more thoughts. “Now let me see, is that it?”

  Nate looked at her askance. “A magical bookstore called Harry… a witch,” he repeated, his voice uneven.

  Ben trundled up to him. “I told you she was an important one to meet. But no, you didn’t believe me.” He let out a stuttering laugh. “That’s the thing with rookies – they always think they know best.”

  Ebony put a finger on her lips and wondered how much she should tell this man. He was a firecracker, to be sure – full of determination, idiocy, and a freakish sense of right and wrong. Just the recipe for having something explode in your face.

  She had what could only be called a special relationship with the police force of this city. As resident consultant witch, she had to. The city of Vale sat right on top of a gate between worlds – a portal. As such, though it already had its fair share of ordinary crime, it also had extraordinary crime. That’s where Ebony came in.

  Vale had ancient roots, and somewhere in its dark past, a pact was forged between the witches and whatever ragtag bunch that had then been equivalent to the police. When they had to, they worked together to keep its citizens safe. No one else had a clue about this pact, or even the existence of witches, for that matter. If Ebony walked up to an ordinary Valian and asked if they knew there was a witch who did consultancy work for the police department, they’d laugh.

  Nevertheless, there was a pact, and it had held right up to this day. Somehow – no matter what happened to the governments, what political parties took hold, what laws changed, what mayor was elected – the pact held. Even during the two World Wars, the witches of Vale had still kept up their bargain. Come rain, hail, shine, or demon, the witches honored this sacred agreement.

  For the most part, the police honored theirs too. No witch was ever dragged off by secret government spies for questioning and prodding in a dark room. And no policeman ever had a hex, love potion, or curse thrown through their front window. The police knew what they had to do, and so did the witches. Keep to the bargain, and somehow this unlikely alliance would last. As the old witches had warned, break the bargain, and the witches would simply disappear.

  And guns and riot shields weren’t effective against a horde of demons.

  That’s how Ebony had come to know Ben. Ebony had moved to this city when she was a sparkling-eyed ten-year-old, and she had fallen in love with it. She’d learned the code from her mother, a witch, and had learned to shoot from her father, a police officer. She’d gone off to study, travel the world, and generally bum around in her early twenties, before coming back to the only city she knew. When Harry’s second-hand bookstore had come up for sale, she’d managed to muster the money for the deposit. And when the police department had put out the call for a new witch liaison, she’d been delighted when they’d accepted her application.

  That was her story. The enigma of Ebony Bell wasn’t too mysterious, after all. Just a witch in a big city, trying to get by.

  “Ebony is a consultant for us.” Ben scratched behind his ear. “We call her in when… stuff gets weird.”

  Nate swallowed. “Of course you do.”

  “You remember when you were transferred to us?” Ben smiled. “You remember when the Detective Chief Inspector sat you down and said this job’s going to be unlike anything you’ve ever done?”

  “I thought he was just exaggerating.” Nate neatened his tie until it sat flat once more.

  “Yeah well, he meant it. Now, I really should have handled this better. Instead of briefing you at the office about the uh… peculiarities of working for the Vale Police Department, I thought I’d bring you straight in to meet Eb and get it all over and done with.”

  “You weren’t to know Harry would react like this.” Ebony kept picking up books and stacking them into piles.

  “Yeah well, whatever. Point is, rookie, Eb here is a witch.”

  Nate nodded slowly, offering something halfway between a smile and a grimace. “We’ve covered this.”

  “Yep, she’s a witch, and she works for us. Vale here is sitting on top of a… now let me get this right… a portal between worlds that somehow makes the energy here more charged…. Kind of like a storm, I guess,” Ben muddled through hi
s explanation. His hands flew around him as he tried to make sense of his confused thoughts.

  “Yeah, how about I explain?” Ebony cut in. “Vale is sitting on top of a Portal, that much is true. In fact, there are many such Portals all around the world. You just wouldn’t know it. Vale’s Portal, however, is unusually strong,” she said quickly, knowing such details would be under-appreciated by the new-guy detective. He had no clue about magic, so the prospect Vale was sitting on one of the biggest inter-dimensional rifts this side of a black hole wasn’t one he’d appreciate.

  She took a deep breath and decided to continue trying to explain the incredibly complex to the obviously stupid. “While the Vale Portal itself is usually closed, things sometimes leak through. This isn’t the problem, though. What is the problem is that being in such proximity to an inter-dimensional tunnel means the city of Vale is highly charged with magical fields. Without going too far into the theory of Field Work, what happens is that being so charged, it becomes much easier for people to unintentionally produce magic.” She looked up to see Nate’s face, a picture of pained confusion. “You aren’t getting this, are you?”

  “A magical bookstore just tried to kill me because I called it messy,” Nate said truthfully. “I have to say, I’m having difficulty paying attention.”

  “Hmm okay, good point. Let me put it this way – when someone straps themselves to a metal pole on a bright summer’s day, what is their chance of being struck by lightning?”

  Nate sighed, chest moving deeply. It was as if he was finally surrendering to the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. “Low to none.”

  “Right, how about if they strap themselves to a metal pole during a violent thunderstorm? Their chances increase measurably, right?” She waited for the detective to nod. “Well, this is Vale. Vale is a violent electrical storm of magic. Now, anyone who recites an incantation they find off the Internet or buys a book on devil craft or accidentally picks up a cursed rocking chair in an antique store – they are like that idiot strapping himself to a metal pole. In the ordinary, everyday world, magic is incredibly hard. Here, magic is easy to attract but still hits you like a lightning strike.”

  “The way I look at it,” Ben shifted a pile of magazines off the couch and sat down, “is like this. Magic is like drugs. People use it to forget themselves, get high, get transcendental, whatever. But the stuff is powerful and addictive. It’s cheap too yet comes at a hell of a price. As Eb said, any goon with an Internet connection can look up the dark arts, just like any idiot can go downtown and get wasted on drugs. The kids don’t know what they’re dealing with but like the high. And we clean up after them.”

  “Junkies,” Nate raised an eyebrow, “Vale is a city of magical junkies… right?”

  “No, no, you’ve got the wrong picture. There really isn’t too much magical crime around.” She made her way over to the counter and started shuffling around behind it. “Honestly, there isn’t. Vale is usually quite ordinary. However—”

  “On special occasions, we have to call in to see Eb. We bring her a biscuit, she steals our coffee, then she goes and finds our bad guy.”

  She found the book she was looking for. “Ah ha, here you go, Detective Nate, here’s some light reading for you.”

  Nate took the book and looked at the cover. “A Brief History of Magical Crime in Vale? Ahh… who wrote this… and who published it—”

  “Oh, no one wrote it; it wrote itself.” Ebony pulled out another book and threw it at Nate. “Here’s another one you might like.”

  “Witches, a Comprehensive Study of their use in Law Enforcement in Vale,” Nate read aloud.

  “There are other books I could find you.” Ebony began to pick her way toward the back of the store. She had to admit she was feeling a little ashamed, but only a trifle. She’d had such fun playing with this new detective, she’d let Harry get out of hand. The spirit of this old store was cantankerous but never as dangerous as he’d been today. To put it simply, she could have handled things better, and now she was eager to smooth things over.

  Well, not smooth things over completely. There was something delicious in the way Detective Nate reacted to being teased. The man had this certain vibe about him that made Ebony want to walk up to him, mess up his hair, and pinch him on the cheek.

  “Hey,” Ben walked up to Ebony and caught her arm, “you can look for books later. Right now, we need you on a case.”

  “Oh,” Ebony said quickly, “oh, dear. It’s that murder from last night, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t like murders,” Ebony said softly.

  “No one does, kid.” Ben nodded at Nate. “Now, you’ve kind of had a big morning. And I’m sorry for how things have played out. You can go back to the office, and I’ll get one of the boys to give you a proper debrief.”

  Nate shifted from foot-to-foot, staring warily out at the store then down at the two books in his hands. “It has been an unusual morning,” he agreed carefully.

  “Ha, yeah.” Ben clapped a hand on his shoulder and shook it lightly. “I told you it was important to learn the ropes in this town.”

  “I did think it was strange when I was forced to sign a specially drafted secrets act,” Nate noted, his voice becoming more detached.

  “About that.” Ben grinned, his chin dimpling like a sand dune in the wind. “That secrets act is going to be, ah… more binding than you think.”

  Nate’s brow knotted. “Sorry?”

  “It’s a magical document,” Ebony interjected. “One of the things you’ll learn in those books I’ve given you is about the sacred pact between the witches and the police department. Part of that pact is vowing that you’ll never pass on the secret of the witches. And in order to ensure that you comply, you sign a special kind of document.”

  Nate’s brow tightened. “What kind of document? What do you mean?”

  “Well, while breaching an ordinary secrets act might land you in jail, trying to tell anyone about the witches will….”

  “It’s not pleasant, son.” Ben patted Nate’s shoulder again. “Your throat will seize up, you’ll lose your voice for a day, you won’t be able to write or communicate in any way… oh, and you’ll grow a really hideous wart on the end of your nose.”

  Nate grimaced. “Right.”

  “Now, we’ve got to get to that crime scene, Eb, while it’s still, ah, fresh.”

  Ebony shuddered. If anyone had been paying close attention to her, they would have seen her stature shrinking, her stare becoming weaker, and her stance becoming less confident. While on familiar ground, she could be as cheeky and sassy as her red lipstick and wild hair would permit – when things became unfamiliar, uncertain, and unsafe, her confidence would ebb. As the confidence ebbed, the knowing glimmer would fade from her eyes to be replaced with… well, something more human.

  “Rookie, I’ll drop you off at the office on the way.”

  Detective Nathan Wall took a final look around the room, at the books in his hands, up at Ben’s open face, and over to Ebony. “I signed up for this job,” he said, his voice stiff but determined. “And this is my first day. I’ll go with you.”

  Ben smiled appreciatively. “I knew you were made of strong stuff! Alright, let’s stop burning daylight – the citizens of Vale are counting on us.”

  As the three of them walked out of the store, Ebony surveyed the strange Detective Nate: firecracker, live wire, pain in the butt, or knight in shining armor?

  This one was going to be interesting.

  2

  Ebony stared up at the imposing apartment block, her hands resting uneasily by her sides. It should have been a bright summer’s day, but heavy clouds gathered on the horizon. The building stood stark against the sky like a thick black line on a perfectly white wall.

  “I hope Yates hasn’t downed all the coffee yet.” Ben stepped up on the curb beside Ebony and proceeded to clear his throat loudly. “Even though it’s a bright and sunny day, be darned
if I haven’t gotten myself a chill.” He plucked up the collar of his jacket, punched his hands into his pockets, and walked up the steps to the cop waiting by the door.

  “Hmm,” Ebony mumbled to herself, still trying to take in the scene. A good witch never rushed in, her mother always told her. A good witch waited and watched. Watching was mostly what witching was about.

  There was a sense of something dark in the air – a residual taste of something menacing that made the hair on the back of Ebony’s neck stand up like pins forced into her skin.

  There were no birds perching on the windowsills, gutters, or ledges of the building. In fact, there wasn’t a chirp to be heard. There wouldn’t be any rats either, or mice, or pests of any kind. She fancied there wouldn’t even be an insect left in that place – not a cockroach under the oven, not a mosquito perched on a light, not even a fly buzzing at the window.

  All the animals would have high-tailed it out of there. Animals always had a proper sense of things. Humans rarely did.

  She was sickened to see gawkers peering past the yellow police tape. They looked up at the building, over at the police cars, and talked amongst themselves with excited whispers. One of them even called over to one of the cops, “Hey, what’s going on here? There been a murder?”

  The cop barely looked up from his cup of coffee. “Use your imagination and stay behind the line.”

  Ebony pulled her gaze away from the people, wondering whether the human race would ever grow up. What kind of a creature would be so crass in the face of such violence? What kind of fool would stand in a place so dark, trying to catch a glimpse of something even darker? That’s what these people were after – a glimpse of the hardened plastic of a body bag, or a blood-soaked knife, or even a broken-faced man being led away in handcuffs.

  They longed for images of dread, pictures that could be seared into their memories so they could go home to tell their friends and family about them. “How was your day, honey? You got cut off changing lanes? Well, I saw a murder scene – body bags and all.”