A Witch of a Day Read online

  I’d been so angry at him for betraying my trust and getting tangled up with wielders of dark magic. My family name was already notorious in magic circles, as both of my parents came from strong lines. The Sampson and Boldt lines had each produced powerful witches and wizards, and I was rumored to be the next prodigy. When my name became attached to Gabriel’s illicit acts of magic, it played to the suspicions that some witches and wizards held about both sides of my family.

  And for that, I would never be able to fully forgive Gabriel, even though, years removed, I realized that he hadn’t meant to hurt me and that it was possible he didn’t even know what he was getting into before it was too late.

  “Do you want me to go with you to the trial? For moral support?” Stacy asked, drawing me back from the ghosts of my past.

  I shook my head but gave her a grateful smile at her thoughtful offer. “No. I’ll be all right. Thank you, though.”

  “Of course.” She reached over the table and squeezed my hand. “You’ll find someone new one of these days. Gabriel wasn’t the right one for you.”

  I nodded but couldn’t fight off the familiar pang in my chest that just the sound of his name elicited.

  Chapter 3

  After leaving the restaurant, Stacy and I wandered around downtown Seattle, taking advantage of her extra-long lunch break by perusing the windows of the glittery shops. Eventually, she had to say goodbye and scurry back to her office, and I continued up to the Magic Beans Coffee House to go back through the portal into the Haven. I waved to the baristas behind the counter—all of them supernaturals who blended in with human society—and headed down the hallway. On one side of the hall, there appeared to be two individual bathrooms and a door that led to the back room; however, as soon as I passed those, a blue outline appeared on the wall and a door solidified. I murmured the password and pushed through.

  The entrance to the Seattle Haven was somewhat like a train station: a large, sterile-feeling space with twelve different gates, all in a line. Each one led to a different part of the secret community. I went down the familiar path to the downtown district gate and within minutes, was transported to the beginning of my street. I started down the block to my condo building, glancing around at everyone spilling out of the local shops and restaurants that remained open. A light, cheery mood danced along on the afternoon breeze. Everyone was laughing and smiling, clearly enjoying their day off.

  A few of my neighbors waved to me as I passed by and I was tempted to go and join them. I wasn’t all that close with any of them, but I knew them well enough to join them for a drink. However, thinking about the trial had me in a glum mood, and I didn’t want to wreck anyone else’s good time, so instead, I waved back to those who greeted me and continued up the street to my building.

  As I walked by Hummingbird Brews, I glanced over to see the array of colorful bottles and vials in the front window display. I knew exactly what it looked like, having been personally responsible for the layout, but I still got a thrill from thinking of all the power and possibility that each little bottle contained. That was the draw of potions for me. It always had been. Being able to bottle up power and use it to help other supers was my passion and the intricacies and wide variety of alterations and customizations kept it fresh and exciting.

  I just wished Mr. Keel would let me brew at the shop. Because of his paranoia, I was forced to do most of my brewing at home, where I didn’t have nearly the same amount of resources available. My condo was small, and a cramped kitchen wasn’t the best environment for complex potion work. Still, I managed to make basic potions and even sold them on the side to close neighbors and friends in exchange for a little extra walking-around money.

  A strange feeling skittered down my spine and I pulled my focus away from the potion vials. A dark figure caught my attention in the reflection of the bank of shiny windows along the front of the shop; it was watching me. My heart rate kicked up and my steps quickened as I continued down the sidewalk. I cast a furtive glance in that direction, trying to assure myself that I was just being paranoid, but the figure in the cloak was still staring right at me.

  A stunning spell pooled in my palm, the power buzzing across my fingers, ready to cast.

  I whirled around and squared off with the figure. Though its eyes were hooded, I had the distinct feeling that they were level with my own.

  The street was oddly silent, considering the celebratory mood moments ago. I darted a glance to either side and another chill rankled the hairs on the back of my neck; the street that had been bustling just moments before was now empty.

  What was happening? The weight of dark magic hung the air.

  I took off at a quick clip, just about to break into a run. Before I could reach the door to my building, the figure appeared in front of me. I yelped, backing off so fast that I nearly fell in order to avoid crashing into it.

  “Holly Boldt. Just the witch I’ve been looking for.” The voice was deep, unmistakably male, but I couldn’t place it.

  I planted my feet and lifted my hand, letting the magic dance along my palm. Not all witches could cast without a wand. Perhaps this stranger had assumed I was unarmed. That would be the last mistake he would ever make … .

  Instead of being terrified, the man laughed.

  That was … disheartening.

  “Who are you?” I demanded, lowering my hand but keeping the magic on my fingertips.

  “A friend.”

  “I hardly think so. Tell me your name or I’ll blast you and call the SPA to come collect whatever’s left after that.”

  “A stunning spell?” He laughed again. “Holly, you might be a powerful witch, but I hardly think I should be worried about a garden-variety stunning spell.”

  I blew out a frustrated puff of air. “Fine. If you won’t tell me who you are, then at least get to the point; why are you stopping me from entering my home?”

  “I seek assistance with a particular matter.”

  “And you thought that wearing a creepy hood and stalking me was the best way to go about it? Interesting choice.” I cocked my hip and planted my free hand it. “What do you want? Specifically, this time.”

  The man laughed. “Let’s find somewhere more private to discuss the details.”

  This time it was my turn to laugh. “You’re insane if you think I’m letting you into my apartment.”

  “If I wanted to be there, I could have already been inside, past all of your carefully cast security wards.”

  Good to know.

  I probably wasn’t as scared as I should have been but I figured that if the man wanted to hurt me, he would have done so already. He’d somehow managed to get everyone off the street, leaving no witnesses. If what he was saying was true and he needed my help, then it was in his best interest to keep me alive and unharmed. At least, until he got what he wanted.

  I licked my lips and glanced around the abandoned street, marveling at what magic might have driven everyone away. I flashed my eyes back to the hooded man. “This seems pretty private. Whatever you cast seems to have scared everyone off.”

  He chuckled, the sound low and gravely. “Yes, the disperse charm is quite effective.”

  “Hmm. Haven’t heard of it.” Whatever it was, it worked like…well…a charm.

  “If you won’t take me upstairs, then you need to provide another suitable location for this meeting.”

  I arched a brow. “And what if I say no?”

  “Then this gets a lot more unpleasant. For both of us.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was bluffing or not. I didn’t even know who he was. I sighed. “Fine. Let’s go to Hummingbird Brews. It’s closed for the day so no one will disturb us. Then you’ll go away?”

  “After the task is completed.”

  Task? I didn’t like the sound of that. I kept my face stony and stared up at him, my eyes unblinking. “And if I don’t want to do the task?”

  The man pulled back a fraction of an inch, as though the question s
urprised him. “Holly Boldt, you don’t have an option; you will do this or there will be consequences. Now, come on. Let’s go.”

  An icy hand protruded from the cloak and grabbed ahold of my upper arm, steering me down the street toward the Hummingbird as though I were nothing more than a petulant child, misbehaving in public.

  I reluctantly pulled the antique skeleton key from my pocket and opened up the front door, desperately hoping that someone would see me with the creepy hooded figure and send for help. But as we slipped inside the darkened shop, there were still no witnesses in sight.

  I just hoped I’d be able to walk back out on my own two feet.

  Chapter 4

  Once inside the Hummingbird Brews’ storeroom, I lit several light orbs before spinning back around to face the hooded figure lingering in the doorway. I pursed my lips and crossed my arms. “All right, drop the cloak and dagger routine. No one can see inside this room.”

  The man let out a low, rumbling laugh, but did as I asked and lowered his hood. He had long dark hair, startling lavender eyes, and a jagged scar across his cheek. A twinge of panic seized my heart at the wild look in his eyes. I decided that he must be a warlock, a group of powerful wizards who tend to play in the grey area between white and black magic.

  “You have a name?” I asked next.

  He smiled but his eyes didn’t show it. “Not one that I’m willing to share.”

  “Great. This is off to a rollicking good start.”

  His eyes flashed. “Let’s cut to the heart of my purpose for visiting you.”

  “Visiting me? This feels more like a borderline abduction.”

  “Careful, Ms. Boldt,” he growled.

  My heart scampered off for cover and my bravado faded dramatically. “Tell me what you want.”

  His eyes wandered over the shelves of potion bottles. I knew them all from memory and mentally listed them off as I followed his distant gaze. When his eyes darted back to mine, goose bumps ran down my arms. “I’m here on behalf of a very powerful wizard. He requires a specific potion and assures me that you can make it for him.”

  “I don’t suppose he has a name you’re willing to share, either,” I quipped, already knowing the answer.

  The warlock glared at me. “You will make him a disappearing potion. And in return, you will be handsomely rewarded.”

  My eyes went wide. Disappearing potions enabled the partaker to vanish and reappear in a location of their choosing. They were not only incredibly complicated to brew, but they were also highly illegal, for obvious reasons. Now, that wasn’t to say I couldn’t make one. But the idea of making an illegal potion for a strange and dangerous-looking warlock who was interceding on behalf of someone whom he described as powerful was one too many red flags. It wasn’t worth it even if the job came with a payout that would get me closer to my dream of opening my own potions shop.

  “No. I can’t. I won’t.” I shook my head. “You have the wrong witch.”

  “I didn’t want to have to do this, Holly, but if you refuse, there will be consequences.” He smiled, and a cold, cruel glint flashed in his eyes. “Grave consequences.”

  I wiped my palms on the front of my skirt. The room felt like it was shrinking around me.

  “If you let me walk out that door without the potion, you will be sentencing your friend, Anastasia, to a most unpleasant ending.”

  “What?” My hand flew to cover my mouth. “Where is she?”

  With a flourish of his hands, the mirror hanging over the front counter glimmered. When it cleared, Anastasia appeared. She was sitting at a desk in a chic office space, leaning over a bridal magazine and furiously scribbling notes on a lilac-colored legal pad. A look of intense concentration pinched her delicate face.

  “What did you do to her?”

  “Nothing yet … ” He glanced down at his fingernails. “But, like I said, if I walk out of here without what I came for, that will change.”

  I drew in a shaky breath, unable to tear my eyes off of the image of my friend. I had no idea how he was performing such magic. I’d never seen anything like it. One thing was for certain though: he was a powerful warlock, and he had me backed into an extremely tight corner.

  With only one way out.

  “Don’t hurt her.”

  He flicked his hand and the image disappeared. “Get to work.”

  With trembling fingers, I crossed the shop and tried to keep my heart from hammering right out of my chest. I sucked in a long, slow breath and wiped my palms on my skirt a second time. A disappearing potion wasn’t the kind of thing that was listed in any proper potions handbook. However, Mr. Keel kept a few unlicensed handbooks in a locked safe in the back room. He had never formally given me the combination, but a while back, I’d been watching over his shoulder as he rattled off the instructions for proper glass polishing techniques and overheard the password.

  Without another word, the warlock settled into one of the wingback chairs by the small fireplace, and I slipped into the back room to retrieve the book and some of the rarer ingredients that would be required for the potion. When I had everything ready, I glanced up at the mirror, picturing Stacy’s face, and with a final sigh of resignation, went to work.

  A few tense hours later, I was drained and exhausted, but the warlock had his potion and I had a sack of gold coins and the promise that Stacy wouldn’t be harmed.

  The warlock pocketed the potion, pulled up his hood, and slipped from the shop into the twilight—I’d spent the majority of my afternoon off brewing the potion. When he was gone, I sagged against the front counter and sucked in the first full breath since spotting his reflection in the shop window. After a few minutes, I pushed off the counter and went to brew myself a cup of Tension Tamer tea. I lingered over it, trying to recover from the shock of what had just happened. When my cup was empty, I got up from my chair and started cleaning the shop.

  It took a while to make sure that everything was back just as it had been when I let myself in. As soon as I double- and triple-checked that everything was right, I hurried out of the shop and headed toward my building. With unfocused eyes, I made it to the same point as I had earlier that afternoon, before being stopped yet again.

  This time by two uniformed SPA agents.

  My heart leapt and I worried I might collapse right there on the sidewalk. Had that whole thing been some kind of sting operation?

  “Is there a problem, officers?” I asked, my voice cracking.

  Just in case I didn’t look guilty enough.

  The man flashed me his badge and reached for my arm. “Holly Boldt, you are under arrest for conspiring in a prison break attempt.”

  My mouth flopped open like a freshly caught fish. “I—I what?”

  The man didn’t repeat himself; instead, he snapped his fingers at his assistant, a woman with startling red eyes, and before I could utter another word, the world went black.

  When I woke up, I was trapped inside of a dingy jail cell. The woman with red eyes was seated at the desk and beside her, a burly man with a thick beard was chowing down what looked like a raw steak. Werewolf. I grimaced and rolled to my side. My wrists were fused together, held tightly in place with some magical force that prevented me from casting any magic. I pushed up from the hard cot and crossed the small space to look through the metal bars.

  “She’s awake. You sure we shouldn’t put her in the box?” the woman asked the man, flicking a deadly glance my way.

  The man grinned and looked over his shoulder. He tore off another piece of steak with his fanged teeth. “Naw. She can’t break those bonds.”

  “What am I being held on? What is the charge?” I demanded, trying to strike an intimidating pose—no small feat considering my hands were bound in front of me.

  The man laughed and went back to eating his revolting meal. The woman got up and floated from the room, her steps so light that I couldn’t even hear them. Elf.

  Minutes later, another man came in and walked up to me.
From the patches on his uniform, I knew he was the sheriff. The wolf at the desk dropped his steak and jumped to attention. Good boy.

  “Holly Boldt … you just couldn’t stay out of it, could you? I’ve been watching you since you arrived at this haven. I knew you’d try something like this.”

  “Like what?” I spat.

  The sheriff chuckled. “I knew that you’d try to bust Gabriel out of prison. And right before the trial, too. Convenient.”

  Gabriel? My scowl faded, quickly replaced with a puzzled look as I tried to process his statement. “What are you talking about? I haven’t tried to help Gabriel. I haven’t even talked to him in … well … since before everything happened. Trust me; we’re not friends. If you’d do your homework, you’d see that I testified against him.”

  The sheriff crossed his bulky arms over his barrel chest. “My agents have been tailing a warlock by the name of Neil Plank. One of Gabe’s old pals. You remember them, don’t you?”

  A chill went down my spine. The warlock.

  “We arrested him about an hour ago, when he attempted to visit Gabriel in prison with a disappearing potion on his person. Courtesy of his ex-flame. That’d be you.”

  My mouth hit the floor again and I blinked furiously as the pieces all snapped together. It was far worse than I could have ever imagined.

  “I didn’t—I wouldn’t! Please, you have to believe me. I was—”

  A blast of magic hit me in the chest, silencing me. “Save it, Boldt. Your SPA agent will be here soon.”

  The sheriff turned on his heel and stalked back out of the room. The werewolf cast me a dirty look and went back to his desk to finish his steak.

  I still couldn’t speak, not that anyone would listen even if I could.

  The potion would have my signature. There was no disputing that I had made it. No wonder the warlock had sought me out. It wasn’t because I was such an amazing potion witch; it was because they needed to frame me for Gabriel’s escape in case things went wrong before he got his hands on the potion. Now, Gabriel’s council could argue that he had no knowledge of the plan and that it was something his devious ex-girlfriend cooked up all on her own.