Bricking It (A Wayfair Witches Cozy Mystery #2) Read online

  I looked at Melissa, my whole body itching with a mixture of worry and excitement. I wanted to be a proper Wayfair. I didn’t want it at Halloween, or whenever the Minister decided. I wanted it now. ‘I suppose the Minister won’t let you tell me any more about the other missing witches, either.’

  ‘The Minister!’ Melissa scoffed. ‘I’ve been telling her this is a problem for weeks now, but she hasn’t given a hoot. The first few witches to be taken were all homeless or poor. The first time I went to her about it, she said that they were probably off on a bender. Lovely woman.’ Melissa sighed. ‘But then Franklin went missing. The guy who runs Franklin’s Familiars?’

  I shook my head. Christine dropped another Frozen Stare into the bowl. The vision of a shop began to form. It was busy, with witches and familiars strolling along the aisles, picking up items from the shelves. Jewelled collars, blinged-out bowls and the like. All of it looked expensive, but most witches liked to spoil their familiars. A broad, dark-haired, bearded man in a blue T-shirt stood behind the counter. He had a snake wrapped around his neck. ‘That’s Franklin’s familiar. Polly Python.’

  Franklin was at the cash register, ringing up an order. He and Polly were chatting and joking with a customer – a young female witch with a gorgeous white kitten – when Franklin vanished, and Polly along with him. The young witch looked in confusion at the space where they had been.

  ‘It’s like that for them all,’ Christine said with a sniffle as the vision melted away. ‘And yes, Minister Plimpton did give us express instructions to tell you nothing about the case. But seeing as it’s all anyone is talking about… I don’t see what harm it could do to fill you in.’

  Oh, no harm at all, I thought – other than making me even more impatient to get involved.

  ‘Well, at least the three of you are working on it,’ I said, doing my best Pollyanna impression. ‘That’s something. And you have all of your other contacts, too. You’ll find them, I know you will.’

  Melissa reddened. Christine and my mother bustled around, clearing the empty stew bowls and dishing up the apple tart I’d brought.

  ‘What aren’t you telling me?’ I asked. ‘You do still have a bunch of secret contacts in other covens, right?’ I’d recently learned that the Wayfair coven’s numbers hadn’t dwindled quite as much as it would seem. It wasn’t fashionable to be a Wayfair at the moment – and it certainly didn’t pay very well – but quite a few witches wanted to be Wayfairs anyway. Albeit secretly.

  ‘Oh, yes. More than ever. We’ve got secret contacts coming out the wazoo,’ my mother answered as she placed my dessert in front of me.

  ‘So then what? What aren’t you telling me?’

  Melissa stared down at her dessert. ‘I em … I’ve decided I’m going to do something different. Now that I’ve gotten such good exam results.’

  I squinted at her. ‘But you always said you were getting your Magical Law degree so that you could be a senior Wayfair. I mean, I know the pay’s not exactly awesome, but …’

  ‘Yeah. Well. I’m going to stay on at the Wyrd Court instead. I had to work there on and off as part of my degree, and seeing as I graduated with the highest results this year, they’ve asked me to clerk there full time, with a view to eventually becoming a lawyer.’ She gritted her teeth. ‘You’re looking at the newest full-time addition to Minister Plimpton’s department.’

  My jaw dropped to the table. Apple tart crumbs spilled out of my mouth. ‘Tell me this is a joke. We hate her. We all hate her. Don’t we?’

  Christine fixed a smile on her face. ‘Magical Law Clerk might be a junior position, but it still pays more than being a Wayfair. Melissa wasn’t keen when the Minister first approached her about the job, but … it’s a better option than being one of us at the moment. Your mother and I both encouraged Melissa to take it.’

  I glanced at my mother. She was ferociously attacking her apple tart. ‘First excuse she gets, the Minister will give what little jurisdiction we have left over to her Peacemakers, you mark my words. Melissa is better off working for anyone but us.’

  I finally swallowed the food that had been in my mouth for far too long. ‘Right,’ I said. ‘Well … clearly we’re all incredibly happy about this, so I’ll just shut up.’

  3. The Warlock Arms

  ‘Are you really happy about this?’ I asked Melissa, letting go of her hand as we appeared on Warren Lane.

  Even though I should have been allowed to travel twice that day by snapping my fingers, seeing as I’d been to the school and all, I’d allowed Melissa to take me. It didn’t have quite the same thrill as using my own magic. But I was so paranoid about what I was and wasn’t allowed to do these days. Travelling to Warren Lane for a shopping trip – even if it was only my second magical travel that day – would be just the sort of thing the Minister would exploit. So I’d come here via Melissa’s magic, holding her hand while she snapped her fingers. She had also, quite kindly, transported my wheelbarrow of books to my bedroom.

  ‘Happy is relative.’ Melissa sighed. ‘Our mothers practically twisted my arm to make me take it. But I’m starting to feel grateful that they did. The Minister is planning on folding the Wayfairs’ jurisdiction in with her Peacemakers. Y’know, as soon as she can find a loophole that allows it.’

  I gritted my teeth. ‘But you won’t help her find that loophole, right?’

  ‘Of course not you great big clown.’ She entwined her arm with mine. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ll do my very best to make sure that if such a loophole does exist, it shall never see the light of day.’

  ‘Sooo ... you’ll be like one of the coven’s secret contacts?’

  ‘Something like that.’ Melissa grinned. ‘Come on. Let’s get to Luna’s Gúnas.’

  As we walked, I stared all around me, doing my best to keep my mouth closed. For so many years I’d stayed away from witch enclaves like the one in Warren Lane. I’d convinced myself that I wanted nothing to do with the supernatural world. In truth, I was just feeling sorry for myself because I didn’t have any power. Now that I could move freely in and out of places like this – without the need for an ugly Pendant of Privilege – I couldn’t get enough of the experience.

  There were witches flying a few feet above the street on brooms, and others appearing and disappearing with a snap of their fingers. Children were chowing down on what Melissa told me was the latest new craze. Cosmic Candy – it looked just like popping candy, but when they placed the little rocks on their tongue, it didn’t just fizz and crackle the way it did in the human enclaves. This popping candy made fireworks shoot out of the kids’ mouths. At the same time, it made them levitate, spinning and flying in the air like they were real-life fireworks or shooting stars.

  ‘Their parents aren’t afraid they’ll have an accident?’

  Melissa laughed. ‘Yeah. Like our parents were afraid when we flew all over the place on your dad’s brooms at the same age.’

  I blinked back a tear. When we were really little, my dad would take the two of us up into the air. Back then neither of us had magic. As the years went by and Melissa came into her power, she was soon flying a real witch’s broom, instead of the wizard broom I was relegated to. As a member of my coven, she was like a sister to me. Being so close in age, we had grown up as close as girls could be. Obviously I’d like to be able to say I’m the sort who never gets a case of the green-eyed monster, but I’d be lying through my teeth. Once she gained her power, it was an everyday struggle for me to tamp down my jealousy. Now that I was spending so much time with her again, I suddenly regretted all the wasted years.

  She pointed to a lane called Memorial Row, off the main thoroughfare, and said, ‘The Berrys are at it yet again. It’s going to be the biggest apartment block this enclave has ever seen.’

  On the left side of the street, construction was taking place. Well, I say construction. Witches didn’t always build in quite the same way as humans did. We used a form of magic called Materialization. Dozens of wit
ches stood around, wearing hard hats, pointing at areas of the building and muttering incantations. As they said their spells, more of the structure would be built in front of my eyes. One man swirled his fingers in circles, and beautiful patterned tiles began to appear at his feet. Another pointed at the ground floor windows, the sills painting themselves a classy shade of grey as he did.

  I wrinkled my nose. ‘Materialization is freaky. Why are they wearing hard hats, anyway? I mean, they’re not like proper builders in the human world.’

  Melissa nodded to a young witch standing on some scaffolding near the top of the building. He was stocky and fresh faced, and would take quite some years before he met a razor – not that male witches actually needed to use razors, but you know what I mean.

  The young witch seemed to be working on a Materialization spell to produce the building’s drains. He was concentrating incredibly hard, incanting as if his life depended on it. A moment later, he tripped over his shoe laces and fell backwards. A male witch who was standing a few feet away stopped him just a few inches from the ground, but as the younger man had fallen, he’d brought half of the scaffolding down with him. Poles and boards smashed to the ground, or bounced off people’s heads.

  ‘That’s why they wear hard hats.’ Melissa fought to keep a straight face. ‘They’ve got repelling charms worked into the hats, so that anything that falls on them will bounce right off. Materialization has become quite a lucrative line of business. A lot of people study it at Crooked College, but it’s not as easy as the experts make it look.’

  ‘Sure doesn’t look easy to me,’ I drawled.

  Thankfully, Materialization wasn’t on the list of subjects the Minister had insisted I study. I’d be learning to harness the basic elements so that I could produce light, water and that sort of thing within my Simple Spells and Incantations class. But I wouldn’t have to produce anything as complicated as a building. At least I hoped not.

  Melissa pointed to the sign that had fallen from the scaffolding onto the ground near us: Berry Materialization presents the Warlock Arms. Apartments for the discerning warlock.

  ‘Oh yeah, I remember Will telling me something about this. His said his dad was building apartment complexes anyway. I didn’t know they’d be exclusively for warlocks.’

  Melissa rolled her big green eyes. ‘I had a run-in with him at work last week. Will’s dad. His name is Kilian – he told me so with a wink and a sleazy smile while he asked me out to dinner. Needless to say, I turned him down. The guy is old enough to be my dad. Ew! Anyway, apart from sleazing on to young women, he had actually come in to check up on how his latest petition has been received. Once again he wants warlocks to have some seats on the Wyrd Court. Like that’s ever going to happen.’

  I shrugged. She was probably right. Genetically speaking, warlocks were witches. They had just decided many moons ago – don’t ask me why – that the term witch was a bit too ‘female’ for them. They were of the opinion that men were second-class citizens in the matriarchal witch society, and so they decided that by calling themselves warlocks, and distinguishing themselves from witches, they were taking back the power. There were a few younger guys in the movement, but the majority of warlocks were divorced men in their forties and up.

  I was just about to say something back to Melissa when my palms grew sweaty, and my eyes began to move of their own accord. Someone had just walked out of the building. He approached the young man who’d just fallen, with a clipboard in his hands. Even though I could only see him from the back, I would know Will Berry anywhere.

  ‘That’s him, isn’t it?’ Melissa whispered, nudging me in the side. ‘Oh my stars, he’s got an amazing behind.’ She bit her lip. ‘Sorry, probably not what you want to hear right now.’

  I sighed. It most definitely wasn’t what I wanted to hear. It also wasn’t what I wanted to see, but there it was, the gorgeous behind that belonged to Will Berry, and I couldn’t prise my eyes away. He bent down, speaking in a low voice to the young man. I heard him ask, ‘Do you need a healer?’

  The young man shook his head. Will then said, ‘Well, you look like you’re okay, so I’ll need you to fill out this accident report form. Okay?’

  The worker groaned.

  ‘All right, you’re clearly not up to writing,’ Will conceded. ‘So I’ll just ask the questions, you nod yes or no, then I’ll get you to sign it at the end. All right?’

  The guy groaned again, rubbing his head and looking dazed. Will didn’t let it stop him, though. He asked question after question, filling things in and ticking things off on his clipboard, while the poor young witch looked sicker by the minute.

  Melissa gawked at me. ‘He’s the health and safety guy? Wow, you had a lucky escape. I thought you said he was an accountant or … no wait, he was a human resources guy, right?’

  He was nearly finished filling in his form. I felt my pulse quicken. I didn’t want him to see me. And I also did want him to see me. It was confusing. ‘He’s an accountant, but he was the human resources guy at the bottling factory. I get the feeling he’s shunted around the Berry coven’s many businesses as and when he’s needed. Anyway, come on – I thought you said Luna’s Gúnas closes at five.’

  She slipped her hand around mine, and we were just about to head back along the street when Will looked up. His eyes narrowed. He took off his bright yellow hard hat, brushed his dirty blond hair from his face, and marched in our direction.

  ‘I’ve already answered all your coven’s questions!’ he barked. ‘Berry Materialization has nothing more to say on this matter.’

  I felt myself huddle into Melissa. I couldn’t help my show of cowardice. I hadn’t expected him to roll out the welcome mat, but this was harsh. Okay, so I’d gotten his aunt thrown into Witchfield prison. Maybe some people would find that hard to forgive. But she was a murderer.

  ‘What’s the matter Wanda? Cat got your tongue?’

  I found myself unable to respond. Normally I could argue for Ireland. But Will … Will was the last person I wanted to argue with. Just a few weeks ago, we’d been growing close. But as it turns out, guys take things like spying on them and pumping them for information a little more personally than you’d think. Because Will had worked with his aunt in Berrys’ Bottlers – the factory where she’d produced her hypno-potion-cum-delicious drink that had caused innocent humans to commit murder upon hearing a simple trigger word – he’d been under just as much suspicion as she was, for a while. I’d never really believed he was involved in any of it, but I had to get close to his aunt and … well, it didn’t end well. I might have solved the case, but I’d gotten myself a slightly bruised heart along the way.

  Thankfully, the cat did not have Melissa’s tongue. She stood glaring at Will, her hands on her hips. ‘Wanda and I did not come to speak with you, Mr Berry. In fact, we had no idea you’d be here. If we had, I doubt Wanda would have cared either way. We’re going shopping, as it happens. We wouldn’t have stopped to stare at your wonderful Materialization project, but if you insist on hiring clumsy staff, then there’s bound to be a bit of rubber-necking, isn’t there? So deal with it.’

  She grabbed my hand, about to lead me away, but I found myself rooted to the spot. Throughout Melissa’s magnificent speech, Will’s eyes had been on me, and mine on him. Granted, his sea-green eyes were looking a little on the thunderous side, whereas mine were full of other things … but a look is a look.

  ‘Why did you think we were here to question you?’ I asked. The cat might not have a hold of my tongue anymore, but it sure had encouraged my curiosity.

  He blinked. ‘Seriously? Like you don’t know that your mother and another witch have been asking questions here this morning.’ He let his eyes drift, momentarily, to Melissa. ‘And I have to assume that the other witch was your mother, seeing as the resemblance was uncanny. She was just about as shouty as you are’

  Melissa gritted her teeth. Her hands went back to her hips. ‘Listen, Mr Berry, you’re the one w
ho started the shouting match here today. Not me. And certainly not Wanda. Why don’t you go back to filling out your little clipboard thingy and let us get on with it.’

  ‘Was it about Mr Caulfield?’ I heard my voice, small and totally unlike my own. I wished I could push the words back in as soon as they came out. If Will wanted to get his revenge on me, then I’d just given him the perfect opportunity. Melissa realised it too, and she rounded her eyes at me.

  ‘Wanda is not working on the investigation,’ she said. ‘Neither of us are. If that was what our mothers were questioning you about, then it has nothing to do with us. Like I said, we’re off shopping.’

  This time, she pulled my hand so hard that I decided resistance was pointless. I let her march me back towards the main thoroughfare. Will trotted after us, seeming to feel the need to get the last word in.

  ‘Good thing you’re not on Mr Caulfield’s investigation, Wanda. Your methods are a bit tacky, aren’t they? Oh, and seeing as your mothers clearly didn’t get the message earlier, you can tell them – ordering a cake doesn’t make us guilty! We didn’t even get the cake. All right?’

  Neither of us replied. When we were finally out of his eye line, I stopped and propped myself up against a wall, needing a moment of calm. Breathe in, breathe out. It wasn’t always as easy as it sounded.

  ‘Wow. He was really angry back there.’ Melissa looked a little shell-shocked herself. ‘I mean … what does he have to be so riled about? You’re a Wayfair. He’s a Berry. Wayfairs have been putting Berrys behind the bars of Witchfield for centuries. If he didn’t figure out that you were snooping on him and his aunt, then that just makes him even dumber than he looks.’

  I looked at the ground. Over my years of self-imposed exile, I’d built up the habit of keeping things to myself. Seemingly, I hadn’t changed. When the coven asked me to use my recent dinner date with Will in order to get some dirt on the Berrys, it was a lot harder than I had told anyone. I had liked Will. Really, really liked Will. But Melissa had just reminded me of a fact I’d drilled into my own head a dozen times already: he was a Berry and I was a Wayfair.