Witch's Bell Book One
Chapter 16
Ebony stopped thinking about all her problems, the Grimshores, the world, magic – and any other manner of things. Every single iota of attention she possessed concentrated to a point, and that point was Nathan Wall.
The sun that had shone bright all morning had managed to heat up the wood veneer on her desk. A fact she noticed as her fingers lightly touched the wood, her body leaning forward. Her once-wild hair slipped over each shoulder, dangling before her as her hands pressed into the desk.
As he angled forward, so did she.
Finally, they kissed.
Lips touching, faces brushing cheek-to-cheek. She could feel her breath strike against his warm skin, only to fall back against her own.
For just a second, he was all she was aware of. For just a second, Ebony Bell only had enough attention for Nate Wall. But in just another second, none of that mattered.
His phone rang.
Ring, ring, ring.
Nate paused, receded like a wave tracking back to the ocean, and delved a hand into his pocket.
Ebony stood there, body pressed up and over the desk, face dangling there like a Christmas decoration still up in the middle of July.
She swallowed a breath and jerked back.
“Detective Wall here,” Nate said, tone completely normal.
Not a trace of the awkward, the sudden, or anything else, tainted Nate’s words. He spoke as automatically and coolly as he always did.
“I see.” Nate nodded, gaze darting out the window. “And where is this, exactly?”
Ebony, lips parted, looked on. You wouldn’t know, she told herself as she blinked even more, that the man who seconds ago had seemed more tender, romantic, and gentle than a rose petal against the cheek, was now the same man on the phone.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He nodded again. “I’ll be ready, sir.”
With one more nod, Nathan Wall snapped the phone closed with a resounding click.
If Ebony had ever believed she’d heard silence, she was dead wrong. The sticky, thick, suffocating silence that now descended between them caught every possible word in its net before it was even said.
“I gotta go,” he said finally, shrugging.
She opened her mouth for quite some time before the right word popped up. “Right.”
He put the phone back in his pocket, not really taking his eyes off her, but not really looking at Ebony either. For just a split second, she half-fancied, he looked conflicted.
“So….” She sighed, crossing her arms and glancing out the window, not because she wanted to know what was out there, but because she needed something else to look at. “What’s going on?”
“There’s been a break-in at the Praytor Jewelers.” Nate flexed his shoulders, as if trying to shake out a pain in his back.
Ebony tried to concentrate on the words, rather than the man saying them. Get a grip, girl, she told herself, trying to suck in a steadying breath. It was just a little kiss. And it was interrupted. What did it really matter?
Praytor Jewelers, a break-in….
“Hold on,” she felt her face crumple with confusion, “Aren’t they both magical jewelers and ordinary jewelers?”
“Yeah,” he flattened down his tie, “That’s the problem. This isn’t an ordinary break-in. Apparently, they stole some important stuff.”
“What? Are you serious? Praytors have two wizards on guard around the clock. How on Earth—”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders again, as if his shirt no longer fit. “But I’ve got to go. Half the station is going, apparently.”
Ebony nodded evenly. “I imagine they are. This is big.”
“I gathered that from Ben’s… less than cheery tone.”
She’d bit into her lips, trying to smile. “He’d have the Commissioner on his butt about this. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now. Depending on who stole what, this could make both the witches and wizards pretty angry.”
“I’ve got to go, Ebony,” Nate finally said. He turned and walked several steps, then paused as if wondering whether he should add something. “I’ll see you later.”
He walked off, leaving Ebony completely alone.
When she was sure he was gone, she sucked in a massive breath and shook her head. “What was that?” she whispered to herself, face freezing into an awkward but energetic grin.
She put her hands on the desk, fingers tapping the wood quickly. “Right.” She patted back her hair. “Right,” she tried again.
So… what was she meant to do now? What had that ah… little kiss actually meant? Nothing? Just Nate playing games?
Ebony turned to the window, catching a glimpse of her reflection. Her face was plastered with an odd, half-shocked consternation. Far from gaining any clarity from this day, so far she’d only managed to fall into a whirlpool of greater confusion.
Even though their kiss had left her thoroughly confused, it had served one purpose. Moments before, she’d been on the edge of a nervous cliff, filled with apprehension at the sea of uncertainty beneath her – her mood now lifted. She was zipping, as it were, her hands and face still tingling with warmth and excitement.
The fact the book from the crypt had never been recovered was still a worry, of course, but it wasn’t about to send her to her knees, yet.
Neither were the Grimshores.
She had to find out what it was all about. She had to….
Ebony ran a finger over her lips and tried to think. She had to do something productive, something directed. But what? Should she wait here, all starry-eyed, until Nate came back? Should she stay here and go through the files, trying to find out more about the Grimshores?
It took her several minutes to come up with a plan. She’d go down to Frank and see if there was any mention of the Grimshores in the non-magical files. Perhaps they had a couple of speeding fines or something. Or maybe every single Grimshore had always led a fault-free life. It was worth a check, just to see if their blessed lives extended beyond magical crime.
She wouldn’t bother asking Frank what happened to the book from the crypt. Nate wouldn’t be lying to her about that. If he said it hadn’t been retrieved, he’d be right.
As for who had it…. Ebony sighed. This was just another item to add to her list of problems to solve.
She had to concentrate on the Grimshores. What was the true extent of the magic protecting them? Couldn’t a single person in the whole of Vale speak against them?
Even if Ebony’s search through the regular records didn’t bring up anything on the Grimshores, she could still try to talk to other people – to see if they too had such automatic and glowing views of one of Vale’s, purportedly, oldest families.
Plus, she could also find out more about this mysterious break-in at Praytors. Praytors was one of Vale’s biggest jewelers. While they made a pretty good wedding ring for the mundane citizens of Vale, they were also known as trustworthy suppliers of magical items. If you needed a good quality, certified, reliable amulet, sacred knife, blessed ring – or any other magical item – Praytors was your first port of call. And while they trucked in both ordinary and extraordinary items, they were very careful to keep both sides of their business separate and safe. Praytors had at least two wizards on guard in their shop at all times, doubling as magical bouncers and dashing shop assistants. So technically, should the brave, ambitious, or plain stupid try to steal their stock – Praytors should be able to look after itself.
Should be, she reminded herself. But if Nate’s words were anything to go by, then the unimaginable had happened, and Praytors had been robbed.
How? And by whom? And what exactly had they wanted.
She wasn’t going to get anything answered sitting at her desk with a mild blush on her cheeks. So Ebony pushed to her feet and headed downstairs.
Her first port of call would be Frank. Not only would Frank know everything there was to know about looking through the police files, h
e was more than old enough to remember this stuff off the top of his head. He would be a real test, Ebony assured herself as she marched up to his desk, of whether the citizens of Vale were truly free to speak their minds about the Grimshores.
“Ebony Bell,” Frank mumbled from his desk as he looked up from a pile of Manilla folders, printouts, and newspaper clippings, “How’s your father?”
She shrugged. “Fine.”
“I take it, from your short answer, that you aren’t here to talk about your dad.”
Ebony shook her head. “Look, this is going to sound odd, but just go with me here.”
“Go with you where?” Frank looked at her, aged face pressed with confusion.
She smiled through a laugh. “I’ve just been looking through some cases… and I was wondering if I could get your opinion on something.”
He answered with an expectant silence, just sitting there still as a statue, waiting for her to ask her question, or get bored and leave.
“I was wondering if you knew who the Grimshores are.”
“I would have thought you’d know that, Ebony. It is common knowledge.” He sat so neatly in his chair it looked as if he’d been arranged by an artist.
“Yeah, pretend I don’t….”
Frank sighed, obviously irritated by her silly game. “The Grimshores are one of Vale’s most respected and oldest families. The members of the family sit on many prestigious boards, give to many worthy charities, and generally look out for the citizens of Vale like wondrous guardians.”
Ebony nodded, keeping her expression as blank as she could. It was incredible how much Frank appeared to believe what he was saying. His face was alight with the wonder and truth of it all. Had that been how she’d looked to Nate? Had her eyes been just as wide with eager pep?
“Go on,” she encouraged after Frank came to the end of his spiel.
Frank made a face. “There’s not much more to say, really. Though the family is large, Tony Grimshore is currently the patriarch, if you will. He sits on the board of the hospital, on the council, is a good confidant of the Mayor, and is very good friends with the Commissioner too. Not to mention, he owns four hotels, three restaurants, two car parks, eight office buildings, and quite a large lot of land outside the city perimeters. And those are just his personal properties. His sons, uncles, and general extended family, probably own nearly three-quarters of the business around Vale.”
“Three-quarters?” Ebony repeated, surprised. She’d never thought about it this closely, but now she had, the thought chilled her. The family, between the lot of them, almost owned all of Vale. Hadn’t anyone else thought this was a little frightening? One family with a monopoly and quite possibly a magical protection against anyone ever speaking out against them….
“Um…. Well, considering the family has been around so long, can I have a look at their file? Surely, after all, they must have committed some crimes at some point. Even if it’s just a speeding tick—” she couldn’t complete her sentence.
A look of outraged shock flew over Frank’s face. It was as if Ebony had just punched his mother. “Ebony Bell,” he said, voice harsh, “The Grimshores are absolute pillars of the community. Not a single one, ever, has committed a crime. Dear girl, we should all hope to be more like them. The very idea that they could have broken any law shows me just how much you don’t know about them.”
The strength of his reaction shocked her. Not just because it made her feel like a child being told off by the principal for calling God dirty names, but because of the sheer peculiarity of it. This didn’t feel like something Frank would ever do. The man had more passion for files than upholding the moral good. Even if Ebony had sullied her own father’s name, Frank would have just given her a pressed-lipped tsk-tsk. Now he was admonishing her from his pulpit, with more vehemence and passion than a prophet bringing down a lightning strike to slay the unbelievers.
“Ah okay,” Ebony said quickly, not wanting to create a scene. She had all the evidence she needed, and didn’t like the idea of being thrown out of the window by Frank for saying another word against the Grimshores. “I was just interested, that’s all. I mean,” she took a hasty look at his still angry expression, and tried to smile, “I know that the Grimshores are the absolute best people in all of Vale.” She tried to underline her words by waving her hands around. “They really are just so upstanding.” She smiled and smiled. “Really, it was a stupid question to ask.”
Finally, Frank’s face softened. “Yes, it was… but that doesn’t matter… now where was I?” his head dipped as he returned to work.
Ebony studied his face for as long as she could without appearing too conspicuous. After a while he looked like ordinary, old, file-loving Frank again. She couldn’t put her finger on the transformation, but one moment she could hardly recognize him, the next it was just old Frank.
She left the office far more confused than when she’d entered. If she’d thought not being able to speak against the Grimshores had been scary, but not all that important, she now had her evidence that it was a lot more pervasive and dark than she’d imagined.
Frank had seemed like a different man when he’d been talking about the Grimshores – filled with the kind of fervor and righteous belief that reminded her more of a disciple and less of an elderly detective.
She shook her head as she left the room, still trying to take it all in. What kind of magic had the Grimshores employed in order to have this much effect on people? Whatever it was, it was powerful. Frank was in the police station, after all. And Ebony had also been right here in the police station when she’d tried to convince Nate the Grimshores were as upstanding as flag poles. If it was some kind of cursed object making Ebony and Frank talk like this – then, by rights, it shouldn’t work in the police station. The station was one of the most protected buildings in all of Vale.
So what was it?
It had to be more general than a simple cursed object. It had to be something that, presumably, all the inhabitants of Vale came across. If everyone in Vale was affected, then it had to be something that could affect all of Vale at once. Something all of her citizens couldn’t help but share.
The water, the electricity, the ground, the buildings?
As she walked along the corridor, fully intending to return upstairs, she somehow missed the stairwell altogether – too caught up in her thoughts. With her head bowed, lips pressed, and a look of full concentration on her face, she walked the length of the corridor.
What would Avery think? Would she be able to speak out against the Grimshores? Ebony was one thing, just a little witch in the scheme of things. But surely whatever this magic was, it couldn’t extend its influence over someone as powerful as Avery Bell?
Ebony bit further into her lip, her legs walking along as if on full autopilot. Unless of course her mother did know. Perhaps the witches of the Coven knew what the Grimshores were up to, but simply kept the secret.
Ebony suddenly found herself at the end of the corridor, and was more than a little surprised to look up and see the office door of the Police Chief himself.
She laughed softly. What was she doing down here? Silly goose, she admonished herself as she turned on her heel.
She glanced to her left as she set off to walk back to her office, for real this time.
She stopped, dead still. The door was open to the Chief’s second office, and she was afforded a clear view of his richly patterned Persian rug and leather chairs. It wasn’t the decor that surprised her. It was what was sitting on it – or rather, who.
The man from the crypt. The pasty, creepy, irritating, little man from the crypt. The one who’d set all Ebony’s troubles rolling in the first place. If he hadn’t decided to up and kidnap Cecilia Grimshore, Ebony would still have her magic – her life.
He was in a suit of some sort, though the tie that sat against his gaunt and pulled neck was emblazoned with embroidered golden runes. He was obviously trying to look inconspicuous. It didn’t ma
tter. Ebony would be able to pick out that face from a mile away.
It did take her several moments, however, to recognize the woman who sat next to him.
The hair, that nose, that long, swan-like neck….
Cecilia Grimshore.
Ebony stood and stared, face angling to the side, eyes open with worry, confusion, and something else.
The gaunt man was the first to notice Ebony, and he made eye contact. Those large, wet eyes snapped onto her.
Cecilia looked up, her hands clasped so primly in her lap, her smile stiff on her face.
“There’s someone at the door for you, Mr Bates,” Cecilia said steadily, her expression so calm and even, it was clear she either did not recognize Ebony, or was the best actress this side of Broadway.
The Police Chief walked to the door, his brow furrowed. He was a tall, bull of a man, with a broad chest and mustache so bristly, he could have passed for a strongman from a ‘50s fair. “Can I help you, Miss Bell? I am currently in a meeting.”
It took a second for Ebony to find her tongue. The confusion at seeing the madman from the crypt sitting alongside his apparent victim was a little unexpected. “Ah, sorry… Chief… but what’s going on here?”
The Chief’s mustache didn’t manage to hide the thin frown that cut his jaw in half. “Excuse me? You’re out of line—”
“Out of line?” Ebony’s voice jolted up a pitch. She may technically be a witch, but she was still under Chief Bates’ command. But that was the last thing that was on her mind right now. “I’m sorry, but shouldn’t that man be in prison?” her voice trilled high, throat tight from the confrontation.
Now the Chief’s face practically boiled. It was as if his skin had been dipped into cooking fat, it prickled red so quickly. “What on Earth are you talking about?” he pressed out each word like the puff of a bellows. “This man and Miss Grimshore are guests of mine—”
“Guests?” Ebony repeated, her voice trilling even higher. “Are you out of your mind? I put that man behind bars several weeks ago.” She gestured toward the gaunt man. “For attacking that woman.” She jabbed a finger toward Cecilia Grimshore, who still hadn’t moved a muscle. “And you ask me what on Earth is going on?”
“Put him behind bars?!” the Chief’s voice boomed out, ringing with anger and disbelief. “You are out of line, Bell. Now, get out of here before I give you an official reprimand.”
“What?” Ebony’s stomach kicked, her palms sweating profusely. What was going on here? What was the Chief playing at? Why was the gaunt man out of prison…?
“Don’t you mind us,” Cecilia Grimshore said, her hands still clasped so primly, her smile still as bright as a daisy under full sun. “I’m sure your employee there is just a little confused.”
“It can happen,” the gaunt man agreed, nodding affably and leaning forward in his chair. “Sometimes people become very confused,” he repeated, eyes latching onto Ebony.
“Confused,” the Chief repeated, blustering, “She’ll be more than confused if she doesn’t apologize this instant and get out of here.”
Ebony’s mouth just lay open, her skin tight with cold. “This can’t be happening,” she said out loud, more to the situation than to any of the three people around her.
“Perhaps she is under stress.” Cecilia cocked her head to one side, eyes as bright as glittering diamonds. She looked like someone examining a curious painting in a museum. “I do believe police work is stressful,” she added with a cute shake of her head.
The gaunt man agreed. “Very stressful. What, with all those criminals and such – is it any wonder she might become confused?”
“Very forgivable,” Cecilia added with a smile.
“Indeed,” the gaunt man agreed, leaning back in his chair.
“You simply mustn’t punish her for this, dear Chief Bates.” Cecilia smiled curiously.
“Indeed,” the gaunt man had the hint of a sneer on his lips, but his face still beamed out with general good cheer, “Not on our behalf. We are both, very much, not insulted by this. So we implore you to simply leave her alone.”
“Oh,” Cecilia put up a hand delicately, “And maybe give her a cup of tea,” she added brightly.
“Excellent idea,” the gaunt man agreed, “Tea.”
The Chief grumbled before taking a gruff breath. “You are lucky, Bell. Now get out of here. I don’t want to see you again.”
Chief Bates closed his door with a bang, leaving Ebony standing there staring at nothing but the grain of the wood.
What had just happened?
Cecilia, that man… what?
Ebony blinked wildly, reaching a hand up to rub her eyes. She couldn’t believe this. There was the Chief of Police carrying on a conversation with the same man who she’d done for magical kidnapping and Death Summoning only several weeks before!
And there was Cecilia Grimshore, sitting alongside her supposed attacker as if they were the most polite of friends.
Ebony rocked backward and forward on her feet, hearing nothing but the muffled voices from within the office.
What should she do? Run down to the front-desk and raise the alarm? Scream for help? Had the gaunt man somehow escaped and cast spells over Cecilia and the Chief?
Ebony rubbed her face again. No, that didn’t make sense. With the amount of magical protection on the station – the man, even if he was an accomplished wizard – wouldn’t be able to hex the Chief.
The Chief would know, should have known, that Ebony had arrested that very man for attacking Cecilia Grimshore almost… how many weeks ago was it now?
Ebony tried to remember, but somehow the thought kept evading her grasp.
The crypt, the kidnapping in the crypt… it had been….
She pinched the bridge of her nose and turned from the door, shaking her head as if to clear out the cobwebs.
She took several steps down the hallway. The crypt, she kept repeating, the crime at the crypt.
As she walked unsteadily down the corridor, her heels clicking against the clean marble, she kept repeating those words to herself: the crypt, the crime at the crypt. Even though she was having greater and greater difficulty trying to remember what it was all about, some part of her knew if she kept holding onto those words, she’d remember.
Ebony managed to make it to the stairwell, hand still pinching the bridge of her nose, before she remembered anything more.
Yes, her mind almost screamed at her, the crypt. That man… that gaunt man… he’d been at the crypt. And Cecilia Grimshore, she’d been there too.
As if with a pop and a fountain of sparks, all Ebony’s memories returned to her. She found herself shaking her head. Had she really just forgotten all about that crime, that same crime that had left her magic-less for a month?
Ebony stood there in wonder. A sick sensation sank through her stomach. This memory – this crime she’d apparently stopped – it was real, wasn’t it?
She was suddenly seized with such an odd sensation. No, you silly goose, she told herself, you know the crime is real. You remember it, remember?
She shook her head. But if that was the case, then what was the Chief of Police doing?
She was torn, teetering at the edge of a dark and lonely cliff. Who was right, Ebony or the Chief? Was it more rational to believe Ebony had somehow made up all this junk, or that the Chief had been hexed in the station?
This strange fog of a feeling that hung around Ebony with a limp, cold grip, didn’t help matters. It was as if it was encouraging her to doubt everything she’d ever believed….
No, she had to check. She headed for Frank’s office.
If everything was turning to smoke before her eyes, then it was time to stoke up the fire and see what else could burn. She had to find out what was real, whatever it took.
When she walked up to Frank’s desk she could still feel the fog around her, sapping her identity like a leech at her wrist. “Frank,” she said in a whisper.
He looked up,
squinting at her. “You again, Ebony Bell? And what do you want this time?”
“I just um… want you to check something up on the… ah, files.”
“Not something frivolous, I hope.” He typed something slowly into his keyboard and looked up at her with a serious expression.
“Oh,” Ebony laughed uncomfortably, “I hope it’s not that frivolous.”
“What do you want to know? I do have other work to do, you know.”
She wiped her palms on her skirt – they were getting so slick with sweat that she was worried Frank would start to notice. “Um. You know that incident that happened several weeks ago. You know the one in the cemetery? The one with the illegal Death Summoning and, ah, Cecilia Grimshore?”
Frank’s face crumpled with annoyance. “More of your games, Ebony? Now listen here. Your father was a great detective, and he would be more than a little ashamed to watch your little games, young lady. That little incident in the cemetery, if that’s what you want to call it, was your own fault – and I thought you would have realized that by now. You made a terrible mistake. And I’m more than glad to see that your Coven has punished you for it. Really,” he nodded quickly, “You shouldn’t be making such a mistake again.”
Ebony receded back from him. “What? I hardly did anything—”
“Ha,” Frank blurted, “If it hadn’t been for Chalcedony, why, we would never have gotten Miss Grimshore out at all.”
“What?! Chalcedony wasn’t there. She only started here after I, well, after they took my magic away.”
Frank shook his head, his skin pasty with shock. “Now I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, and maybe I don’t want to know. There is little wonder, considering your current behavior, that you’ve been replaced as our witch consultant. Really, what would your father think?”
“Replaced?” Ebony shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Ebony Bell, stop playing this game. I have work to do, and you’d best go and do yours, lest you find yourself without a job and without a leg to stand on.” Frank turned deliberately back to his work, obviously deciding to ignore her from now on.
She turned from him, her face hot, and walked away.
What, in all that was holy, was going on here? Had the station’s defenses been overcome? One moment Frank was fine, the next he was treating her like the scum you scrape off the streets.
Ebony’s hands started to shake as she climbed the stairs. It was all she could think of doing: receding and heading back to her office, her home amongst all those files. Magical files, after all, could not lie.
As she walked up the steps, she tried tremendously hard not to cry. Her skin was hot and itchy, her body limp and weak. None of this was right, nothing at all. Frank, the Police Chief, Cecilia, and the gaunt man. What was going on?
She had to check the files. Ebony closed her eyes and drove the words into her mind. She had to go and check what she’d written about Cecilia and the crypt.
Ebony started to take the steps quicker. Magical files could not lie, she repeated to herself. And whatever paperwork she’d done regarding the crypt case would be upstairs amongst the files. All she had to do was retrieve it, read it, and then… well… try to convince everyone else they were mad.
Ebony still shook as she reached the top-level. Her lips were dry, her eyes wide, and the beginning of a serious stress headache was forming in her shoulders and temples.
She dove toward the most recent files.
She reached out a hand, spotted where they should be on the rack, and snatched the right Manila file.
She opened it.
It was empty.