The Witch's Mind Read online

  Her company was welcome on all occasions, but she was the absolute perfect companion for a confrontation with the scary Zelda Beale. And Ruby had only to ask. As time went on, Margo even looked forward to opportunities to test her mettle. And while Ruby knew that facing Zelda was her responsibility, it meant everything to have Margo by her side.

  Zelda Beale lived in the large forest on Oyster Cove’s western edge. And she was not the only one. There were others scattered here and there throughout the forest. Was that what gave it such an eerie feel?

  Zelda’s house was dark and forbidding. There was a small unpaved walkway leading right to her front step. But just as they arrived at that step, the door slowly opened of its own accord. Theoretically, that could be interpreted as a welcoming gesture, but Ruby was not feeling that optimistic. They entered with caution.

  Zelda was sitting in front of a large-screen TV. The sprawling living room was an extraordinary jumble of modern conveniences and the unmistakable signs of a witch’s lair. There were two cauldrons, for heaven’s sake. There were herbs, bottles, potions, gemstones, and spell books in every corner. There were skulls and heaps of ashes and a very sour, ominous looking cat who yowled at the sight of the visitors.

  “Two little flies come to visit my web. How nice,” Zelda greeted them.

  “I hope we’re not interrupting,” Margo said coolly.

  “Interrupting? Why, I was just catching up on a few recent releases. I do love a good movie. Gotta love Play on Demand. I demand and it plays. No charge, of course. Or haven’t you learned how to master those useful tricks?”

  She looked Ruby up and down carefully. “You’re the new one. And I can smell Lilith on you, more so than any of the others.” She then turned her attention to Margo. “And you are the one who got the heart that should have belonged to me. Any dark heart is of great value in the dark arts. Lilith Hazelwood’s? It would have been the most powerful tool in my arsenal.

  “And it was snatched from me before I had a chance to claim it by that bothersome commoner doctor. I really ought to do something about him. Perhaps I would have if I knew what he had in mind. He intended to resurrect every square inch of her. I cannot walk through this town without running into a piece of Lilith Hazelwood, and it’s not a pleasant prospect. In fact, I may yet punish the man for his unnecessary resurrection of a most loathsome enemy.”

  “I can tell you as his assistant that he has come very close to running out of body parts. And there really is nothing to be gained by hurting him. After all, most of the “damage” has been done. There are unlikely to be any more of us,” Ruby assured her.

  “And yet he irks me. Perhaps I should curse his hands with crippling arthritis as a penalty for their annoying meddling activities.”

  Ruby got the impression that if she made a strong emotional plea for Dr. Svenson’s safety, it would only hurt him. He might become the means by which Zelda chose to retaliate against Ruby, by striking out at someone who mattered to her. Best to feign indifference.

  “You allow yourself to be distracted by bit players when Lilith herself is still in the picture. Can’t you feel her presence?”

  “I can. Though I cannot see her. I do not see the dead. But I suspect you do.”

  “Yes, I do. She will always be a part of this town, and this community, and your life, until she gets the closure that she needs. And since I suspect that you would like her gone for once and for all, I ask you—did you kill her?”

  “Ah . . . how many of her enemies must you be interrogating? So many of us have reason to dislike her. Some even more than myself. Witches do not suffer over love and betrayal as commoners do, but there is suffering enough. Lilith stole the affections of a young man I was quite attached to simply to put me in my place. For that, I never forgave her.

  “And then there is Fiona. And Esmeralda. And Raquel.”

  “Who’s Raquel?” Margo asked.

  “Oh, Raquel is one with the largest grievances of all. My own are dwarfed by the grudges that she held against Lilith. It makes for a very interesting story night. You will certainly have to catch up with her. Now let me see, am I missing anyone?”

  “Arabella Crowe,” Ruby added.

  “So, you do indeed speak to the dead. That Arabella should be raging for revenge does not come as a surprise. That is quite a lineup of suspects. But I cannot see your search ending in success. Lilith wants to know her killer. She appears to be so far gone and yet, she is not, and there still remains a small chance of retaliation. For that reason, you’ll get no confessions.”

  “Okay, yeah, I see what you mean,” Ruby said.

  “Furthermore, my hatred of Lilith is so intense that even her death was not enough to quench it. Even now, I ache to inflict further punishment on her. And I can only think of one way to do that—by inflicting pain on one of her proxies. And there are so, so many to choose from.”

  Margo stepped forward, not willing to put up with any threats. “Have anyone in mind?”

  “Let me see. The strong one grates on me . . . Gemma, was it? But truthfully, all of you are insufferable reminders of the most detestable creature I have ever been forced to endure. Now, begone while I am still in good humor.”

  If that was good humor, then yeah, it was time to be gone.

  As Margo and Ruby made their way out of the woods, Margo could see that Ruby must be engaged in some interaction with Lilith and gave her some space for that otherworldly interaction.

  “I hope it is clear to you that Zelda poses a true and fearsome danger to your wellbeing. She possesses spells and powers that could render you helpless. You are going to need to protect yourself against her and others like her. For it is not only the one who murdered me that will turn on you. It is anyone who ever regarded me as an enemy, and they number many.”

  “How could I possibly protect myself against her? I don’t think Margo is willing to become my twenty-four-seven bodyguard. And even if she were, she has courage, but that’s not going to be enough, is it?

  “No. Courage is a shield but it is not a weapon. You must have all of my knowledge at your command. You must become a master of the dark arts.”

  “No. No. I am not a dark arts kind of witch. I don’t like violence, and I could never hurt anyone. That’s just not me.”

  “Could never hurt anyone? What about someone who was about to hurt you? What about someone who was about to kill you? Aren’t you entitled to defend yourself?”

  “Sure, in that circumstance, yeah. But, how likely is that?”

  “Very likely, as I had hoped would be evident to you after that encounter with Zelda. The dark arts are much-maligned. Their negative reputation is much undeserved.”

  “Maybe it would help if they weren’t called the dark arts. It really doesn’t bring anything good to mind.”

  “What about the martial arts? They were created to defend a warrior against all enemies. They are deadly and they can kill. They provide vital protection in circumstances of war, threat, and danger. That is what the dark arts are. Sometimes the defense takes the form of a preemptive attack. But you know that when someone aims to kill you, there is such a thing as waiting too long to protect oneself. You don’t want to wait until it is too late when dealing with someone who embodies malevolence as Zelda does.”

  “Lilith, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but you have quite a reputation yourself for . . . a touch of malevolence here and there. Was there that great a difference between you and Zelda?”

  “Hmmph. Contrary to popular belief, I sought to protect this town, not to destroy it, and its clueless residents owe me a debt of which they will never be fully aware. There is evil in this world among the commoners, and when I found it, I rooted it out. Because evil spreads, mutates, grows like toadstools. The people I got rid of were the worst of your kind, and they would have caused more havoc, violence, and death had I not seen fit to put an end to them.

  “I never killed an innocent. Which is not to say that Zelda wo
uld. She couldn’t kill an innocent, however much she might want to. The dark arts don’t allow for it. There are many rules that govern the dark world, and I can teach you everything. And lest you need a reminder, all the violence and murder you have seen in these past two years have been committed by commoners. You have as much to fear from them as you do the likes of Zelda. The dark arts will protect you against all.”

  Ruby shook her head in frustration, still quite doubtful. “I think I’m going to have to sleep on this.”

  “Sleep soundly, young Ruby. I always did.”

  To herself, Ruby thought, “After all the things that Lilith did! That’s because she didn’t have a conscience.”

  “I heard that!”

  No, no one wants Lilith Hazelwood in their head. And the sooner Lilith’s murder was solved, the sooner Ruby would have her life back. As for the dark arts, Lilith’s opinion on the matter had to be taken with a grain of salt. But there was one person whom she trusted absolutely, who could tell her whether Lilith was trying to pull the wool over her eyes. Time to take Delphine up on her offer.

  *****

  Delphine Sykes had never had children of her own. And like Dr. Svenson, the young transplant witches had begun to feel like daughters to her. She took seriously the role of mentor, protector, and friend. She had known Ruby for a number of years now, with absolutely no anticipation that she would become one of the transplant witches herself. And yet, she had nonetheless learned have a deep appreciation for this young commoner who was so filled with decency and who had supported the transplant beneficiaries so joyously and selflessly.

  And now she was one of them in the most problematic way imaginable—a connection to Lilith Hazelwood’s brain. Talk about mixed blessings. No other procedure or medical advancement could have saved Ruby’s life without Lilith’s potent bodily contribution. And yet, Lilith’s ethics, selfishness, her disdain for others, and her excessive power were not something that Delphine wanted to have an overly undue influence on Ruby.

  Delphine was relieved to see that Ruby had come to seek her out. The burden of Lilith’s company should never have to be shouldered alone.

  “How are things going, my dear?”

  “I got a cat.”

  “Always a good move,” Delphine said approvingly.

  “It was Lilith’s idea.”

  “That is proof positive that Lilith’s ideas are not always bad.”

  “Aren’t they? That’s really what I came to talk about. Lilith’s ideas. More specifically, I really would like your opinion of . . . the dark arts.”

  “Hmm. Why don’t you first share with me Lilith’s opinion of the dark arts?”

  “She thinks that the dark arts are just suffering from a PR problem. That they’re not inherently evil but are another form of self-defense. And that no innocent will be hurt, which is certainly not my understanding of what the dark arts are about. I thought they hurt a whole lot of innocent people.”

  Delphine sighed. “Lilith is more or less correct on that score. As far as commoners are concerned, no one who is innocent will lose their lives to the dark arts. The dark arts are cruel, but they are just. The disparity of power between witches and humans is much like the disparity of power between adults and infants. There is no contest as to who holds whose life in their hands. And just as it is unthinkable and unforgivable for an adult to kill a child, to have a witch kill a commoner is not only unthinkable, but it will not be allowed. The spells of the dark arts will not allow it.”

  Only those who have killed need to fear the dark arts. We often say that dark hearts fear the dark arts. Let me at least ease your mind on that score.”

  “So, I don’t need to worry about being killed by, say, Zelda Beale? Because she’s not too fond of us—Lilith beneficiaries.”

  “No, even Zelda could not kill you. But that may be small comfort. She can do terrible damage. She can control you, she can maim you, and she can make your life a misery. She can harm the people you love. And she’s quite capable of any and all of it and more.”

  “Lilith seems to think that I need to learn the dark arts to protect myself.”

  “Ironically, they would come in handy more to protect yourself against the murderous commoners that you young initiates seem so fond of getting entangled with. And still, speaking for myself, I never had any desire to get into that fray. That amount of power never interested me, and without it, I was certainly less of an object of interest for those who had it. I posed no threat, and I challenged no one’s claim to superiority. I chose a peaceful life, and I would dearly love to see all of you do the same.”

  “What should I do about Lilith? And the dark arts? She really had me thinking that I’m going to need them one day. Maybe soon.”

  “You are in a much different position than the others, I must admit. Seeing Lilith, receiving direct communication from her, places you in a vastly more central position in this drama than any of the others thus far. You are the critical element here, Ruby. Much will rise and fall on your actions.”

  The critical element. The central position. The leading lady. Oh, be careful what you wish for.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Partly in order to settle her nerves, Ruby threw herself into settling her cat. They marched down to Pet World and came away with fourteen different flavors of Posh Nibbles. No more of that dollar stuff hooey. This was the end of her second-class citizenship. No more supporting player for this kitty, a role that Ruby could sympathize with all too well. It was time for her to enjoy life as a leading kitty, and to reflect her new role in life, Ruby named her Star.

  After depositing their new goodies at home, Ruby took her new little friend out for a walk. Or a carry, to be more precise. They needed time to get to know one another. As Ruby strolled down the main street, she noticed a bunch of old men settled nearby at a sidewalk café, enjoying coffee and a game of cards. They weren’t extremely old. In fact, some of them had clearly been rather strikingly handsome in the not so distant past. But they were all in their 70s now.

  And then the oddest and most alarming thing flashed through Ruby’s mind—a titillating sex scene featuring one of these seventy-year-old men. Why? Why was she fantasizing about an old guy? And then another one of the faces around the card room popped into her mind. And then another. Some really explicit stuff. Geez. Except . . . in these fantasies, all the men were still young. Did that mean . . . ?

  “Of course, I slept with them. They were all some twenty to twenty-five years younger than myself,” Lilith gloated. “Oh, what good times I had in this town.”

  “I’m getting such a clear, vivid picture of your good times, Lilith. My goodness. And here I thought you were such a hermit. Um . . . is there any way I can shut this off?”

  “Think of it as a tutorial. Your future men will thank me.”

  “I’m not so sure that there are going to be any future men.” Just that moment, Ruby spotted Griffin Wynter across the street, doing some window shopping. “That’s not a future man. But I have to take care of some business with him.”

  “Normally, I would not approve of distraction. But as you youngsters would say, he is insanely hot, so I will allow it.”

  Lilith’s days of enjoying beautiful men were over, but right this moment, she was willing to settle for vicarious thrills.

  Griffith was deep in thought, perusing the Tiffany’s-style luxury jewelry window display. Clearly, he had settled on a lady friend. And he was so preoccupied that he didn’t even notice that he was no longer alone.

  “Who are you shopping for?” Ruby asked nonchalantly.

  Griffin turned around, at first startled, then extremely pleased to see her familiar face.

  “My sister’s birthday. I told her that I’d get her something nice this year.”

  “Older sister or younger sister?”

  “She’s seventeen.”

  Ruby looked back at the very expensive, exclusive selection of jewelry and shook her head.

  “This i
s not seventeen-year-old jewelry. Do you have a picture of her?”

  “Lots,” he said, whipping out his phone.

  The photo that he showed Ruby was of a girl with long, dark hair, wearing a black V-neck T-shirt, a goofy headband, and an armful of bangles.

  “None of this would suit her. She’s fun. She’s young. She’s happy. She needs happy jewelry, not elegant. I saw something recently that she would probably like a lot. It’s a couple of blocks away, if you’d like to take a look.”

  Griffin was only too pleased that this interesting young woman, who had been yelling at him just a couple of days ago, was now willing to help him out with his very beloved sister.

  “I would love to take a look. Are you, by any chance, in fashion or design?”

  “No. Not at all. I’ve just lived in this town for a long time and I know where things are.”

  The truth was that Ruby did pride herself on a bit of fashion flair, but she was fully aware that she had used clothing most of her life as a way to jazz up what she felt was an otherwise unremarkable appearance.

  They walked into the large discount store and went straight to the jewelry department.

  “Oh, great, it’s still here,” Ruby exclaimed gratefully.

  “It” was a black and white necklace made of very thin, featherweight metal. It had large black flower petals with white polka dots in the exterior, and inside the flower were white petals with black polka dots, with more and smaller cheerfully patterned petals inside. It was the cheeriest-looking necklace that Ruby had ever seen, and it would look great against the black V-neck T-shirt in the picture.

  “I know I don’t know your sister, but I’m thinking that she’s probably going to love this.”

  Griffin examined the necklace in amazement. “It’s $19.99. Oh, wait, it’s on sale for $14.99. Is that really going to be a good, big-deal birthday present?”

  “For a teenager, absolutely. She wants to look good. She wants to look cute. She doesn’t want to look like a Beverly Hills housewife or an Atlanta housewife. If she doesn’t love this necklace, then I was never a teenage girl myself.”