The Mayhem Sisters (2 page)

Something moved inside, wiggling under the fabric. It cried, a pitiful whimpering. He set the bag down on the ground with a thud and another whimper escaped from beneath the thin fabric, but this time the sound was a sharp cry of pain and fear. He picked at the knotted closure with his ragged and blackened fingertips that looked like they had been dipped in ink or ash.

What rotten wizardry had he been practicing?

Vivi had grown up hearing the tales of witches and wizards who had gone bad. Their teeth rotted and their fingertips split and blistered from the rancid deeds of black magic. Did a horrid creature lay trapped under the cloth?

The form moved, shifting Vivi’s attention. The bag was much larger than she had originally realized. The knot loosened and the fabric pooled open to reveal the contents. Huddled on the ground, wearing a thin blouse and skirt, frail as a butterfly caught in a net, was a young witch.

The wizard had kidnapped a witch.

Her make-up was smeared, her face streaked with grime. Her bottom lip was split and wet with berry-red blood. Her eyes were moist wide pools, overflowing with tears. “Please, don’t hurt me,” she pleaded.

Too late,
Vivi thought.

Her attention jerked toward the wizard. She wanted to get a good look at him, but even though she was so close, she could barely see him, his features blurring in and out of focus, his face obscured by his collar and a hood.

He laughed and circled the shivering witch. “You are my greatest prize.” His voice was thick and deep. He grabbed her hair and pulled her close. “I will never let you go.” The wizard projected a cold void of emotion. A sickening sense of power surged through Vivi’s body.

Panic and tears welled in the young witch’s desperate green eyes. She gasped, struggling to get away from him. “Help me! Please, someone, please! I don’t want to die!” But, besides the dark wizard, Vivi was the only one to hear.

The vision began to shift and melt away. Vivi screamed, “No!” trying to hold on to the scene with her mind, not wanting to lose the witch. She charged forward, pushing herself between the wizard and the young witch, ready to fight, scratch, and claw, but they were gone.

The woods faded into the background, the vision changed, and the girl re-emerged.

This time she was being held in a cramped, dark place, but exactly where, Vivi couldn’t tell. Her delicate clothes were torn and dirty, and her long strawberry blonde hair hung in greasy hanks, as if she hadn’t bathed in weeks. Her bare arms were covered in scratches from the thorn bushes and prickly brambles that thrived in the Dire Woods. The skin on her wrists was raw and broken. She was trembling so hard that Vivi grabbed her own arms to still the shaking.

He
was there, too, skimming the shadows. Vivi narrowed her eyes and focused all her attention on him; a sharp pain seared her mind, but she kept watching as if peering through a keyhole into his dark world. He had a purpose for the young witch. A deep voice of knowing told her that he had kidnapped her, kept her hidden, and was using her in magical experiments.

The wizard pulled three pouches from the folds of his coat and approached the trembling girl to prepare for the ritual. From one, he poured red salt in a circle around her. A staple of the black magic spell box, red salt, also called blood salt, was made from salted blood. From the next pouch, he poured black ash. Vivi’s heart raced. Black ash had been brought from the Otherworld and the times of witch burnings. The ash was collected from the burned bodies and the stakes the witches were bound to when lit on fire. It was also collected from the hanging trees that were burned down after the bodies were taken and buried at a crossroad. It, too, was a powerful tool used in conjuring dark forces. The last pouch was filled with broken things—shards of glass, shattered bits of bone, and chipped teeth. Vivi’s stomach rolled over.
He’s going to kill her.

Vivi could barely watch, but the reek of burning ash filled her nose. The magic pierced her skin like a hot needle pricking, pulling burning blackness through the thread of her soul. The witch’s eyes had gone vacant like a doll face with black buttons sewed on, as if the fear had drained her of fight. He was erasing the best part of her, and Vivi didn’t know how to make it stop.

She tried to scream. A hot tear slid down her cheek.
This can’t be happening. The visions aren’t real. Please let this be a mistake.
But she knew it wasn’t. She had been lying to herself for a long time now, pretending to be something she wasn’t, and now she couldn’t turn away.

The dark wizard advanced from the shadows with a wand of twisted black walnut clutched in his hand, a wicked spell pouring from his lips. Every witch knew defensive spells as well as some basic fighting magic taught for protection, but the young witch just shrunk as his figure towered over her and whispered wickedness that knocked the wind out of her, leaving her gasping on the ground. Her green eyes rolled back in her head, and that was when Vivi realized that the witch had nothing left to fight with. Her magic had been drained. She twitched uncontrollably, collapsing in a heap.

Vivi could barely hold on to the scene. The edges of the vision shrank. The witch was slipping from her mental grasp. She focused all her attention on the sight. She was losing her. “No! Wait!” Vivi tasted blood in her mouth. Her eyes burned. The smell of ash and brimstone choked her nose and throat.

The vision changed again. The woods were still. The wizard was gone. Vivi stood in a clearing. Ahead of her in the woods, she saw a familiar face.

Sheriff Gardener was standing over the witch’s body, a magical crime scene ward glowing red, illuminating the woods where her body had been discarded like a paper cup. It was too late. She was dead. That was her fate. But the future was not carved in stone or made of soot and ash. It was yet to be lived. The future was a thing made of potential and purpose. Vivi clung to the hope that the future could be changed.

V
ivi woke drenched in sweat. As the fog of the vision lifted, she realized she was lying legs sprawled, body limp, on the floor of the back room. Pepper, with a look of concern on her face, pressed a wet washcloth to her forehead. Vivi leaned up and grabbed her pounding head while trying to regain an ounce of self-respect and process what had just happened. Her assistant leapt into action, quickly uncorked a tiny potion bottle and poured the contents down her throat. One of their most popular revival potions, the minty lemongrass mixture went to work within seconds, warming her body and refreshing her mind. Her headache receded.

Vivi eased to her feet.

“Take it slow. Here, sit down.” Pepper guided her to the table and chairs they’d arranged in the back room for a quiet place to sit and eat lunch.

“I’m sorry.” Embarrassment mixed with anguish washed over her. She rested her head in her hands. “I must have fainted.”

“Fainted?” Pepper released a long exasperated sigh. She brushed a sweaty clump of hair out of Vivi’s face. “I’ve known you for three years, since you opened the shop, right?”

She placed a hand on Pepper’s arm. “Since
we
opened the shop.”

“Then why do you keep hiding the truth from me? I thought we were friends.”

“We’re more than friends. We’re family.” But the truth was, Vivi didn’t want anyone to know. She suspected that Honora and Clover had their suspicions, but they never said anything, waiting for her to confess, she guessed, but Vivi never did.

“I know about the visions.” Pepper stared Vivi in the eye. “I know about your
persuasion
.”

The words hung in the air between them. Her secret was finally out.

“How’d you know?”

“Little things. Once, I saw you up front when no one was around and you got a far off gaze on your face and suddenly your body jerked and you grabbed your head in your hands. Plus, you knew about the birthday surprise I arranged last year. When I took you to a play in Stargazer City. You weren’t
really
shocked, even though the show had been sold out for months.” Pepper shrugged. “You take more headache potions than any witch I’ve ever met. I figured something serious was up, so I did a little digging.”

“You’re right about my birthday. I’d seen a flash of us sitting in the dark, staring at a stage. I tried to pretend I didn’t know. I guess I’m a bad actress.” Vivi blinked back tears.

“Why are you fighting your gift?” Pepper asked, pulling up a chair and sitting next to her. Her voice was soft as down.

“Because it isn’t a gift. It’ll ruin my life, everything I’ve built.”

“You’ll always have the shop. That won’t change.”

“Pepper, don’t be naïve. You know what happens to seers. They start to go a little loopy and end up shunned and isolated. I don’t want to be alone.” Vivi’s voice caught in her throat. The raw memory of the kidnapped witch’s anguish twisted her gut. How could she be so selfish? How could she turn away when the witch she had seen in her vision was in so much pain?

“Seeing is one of the most powerful
persuasions
.” Pepper snorted. “I should’ve known you weren’t just a potion maker. Mayhem sisters have some serious power. You can’t deny that.”

“Can’t I? I’ve been doing a good job of it for years.” Vivi had been hiding her visions since she was a teenager, too afraid to admit to possessing the powerful gift. She’d always seen harmless events, even happy flashes—a wedding bouquet flying through the air, a baby wiggling in his mother’s arms, a necklace under shiny wrapping paper. She thought she could keep these flashes to herself, even repress them. But now this dark vision had come, and it had brought pain and fear with it, shattering her plan to keep her power a secret.

“
Persuasions
can’t be denied. Look what just happened to you. And I doubt this was the first time.” Pepper gave her a narrow glance.

In the past, whenever a strong vision had tried to emerge, she pushed the images deep inside her brain, and for a long time it had worked. The snippets of future events became fewer and far between, but lately the headaches had come, and her ability to repress her sight was ending. Pepper was right. Vivi had tried to fight her
persuasion,
but the visions returned, stronger and stronger as if trying to be born from her, fighting to be seen.

“I guess I can’t even have one secret from you,” Vivi said.

“Well, we do have a potion for keeping a secret, but it doesn’t last that long. Secrets are powerful. They’re hard to keep hidden, even by the toughest witches.”

“I don’t want anyone to know. I want things to stay the same.” Even as she said the words, Vivi knew that things would never be the same again, especially after what she had seen. She couldn’t ignore the young witch and her desperate plea.

The time for pretending was over.

“Oh, honey. It’ll be okay. I’m here and so are your sisters.” Pepper threw her thin arms around Vivi’s shoulders in a light hug.

“Pepper, it was really bad. It was like no other vision I’ve ever had.” Vivi swallowed hard. She shook her head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

If she opened up now, there was no turning back. Her biggest fear was coming true. Her real
persuasion
made people cross the street when they saw a witch with the terrible gift. Maybe this was part of the Mayhem curse, her fate—to be shunned, avoided, and whispered about.

If she didn’t face it, things would only get worse.

Vivi had no choice. She had to report the crime. The young witch was in serious trouble, and if someone didn’t help her, she would be dead soon. She told Pepper everything she could remember about the vision, the images and senses pouring out of her, and a huge weight lifted from her shoulders when she was done.

“What are you going to do now?” Pepper asked.

“The only thing I can. Pay a visit to Sheriff Gardener. I’m going to report what I saw and get help for that witch.”

Before leaving the shop, Vivi dug around on the shelves in the back room and found a small blank notebook with a smooth felt cover she had bought for jotting down potion recipes, and she transcribed the details from her vision, leaving nothing out. No image or sense was too small, no matter how uncertain she was about the way they all connected, and then she was ready.

The village of Willow Realm held onto many traditional magical practices and was a special place to live. The town was the perfect size, not too big or too small. It had one police station and one sheriff with a slew of deputies to keep the witches and wizards of the realm safe. Walking into the police station was one of the hardest things she had done in her entire life. Vivi steeled her nerves and pushed open the front door. The vestibule hummed with the energy of protective magical wards that were both intimidating and reassuring.

Her mouth was dry as dust when she approached the receptionist’s desk. Honey Hardburn had worked for the sheriff for about three hundred years, give or take, and since witches lived for over five hundred years, she was still spry. A pair of cat’s eye glasses sat perched on her sharp nose. Her jet-black hair was piled on top of her head in the largest beehive hairstyle Vivi had ever seen.

“Sign in,” Honey said, pushing a thick ledger across the desk. “What do you want?” She wasn’t one for small talk.

“I need to speak with the sheriff,” Vivi said, dipping a quill into a bottle of ink and scratching her name across the creamy parchment.

“About what?” Honey tapped her pointy enameled fingernails on the desk.
She must sharpen those talons nightly
, Vivi thought.

Vivi lowered her voice. “It’s business.”

“Something happen at your shop?” Honey pried. “Someone steal one of those pretty potions? You put them in such nice little bottles. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“No, nothing like that.” Vivi unzipped her handbag.

“If I were going to steal a potion from your shop, it would be something good like that potion that makes your hair sparkle.” She patted the side of her towering do. “I think I would look good with a hint of magenta. Don’t you think?” Her eyes gleamed hopefully.

“Yes, pink does suit your complexion, but lapis lazuli is all the rage.” Vivi pulled a glittery blue bottle out of her handbag and set it on the desk. She knew that Honey loved any and all potions that altered her appearance, especially her pride and joy hair. The receptionist was very experimental, and Vivi had come prepared.

Honey’s eyes widened and she slipped the tiny bottle into her desk drawer. “You really are my favorite Mayhem sister. Not bossy like the flyer or aloof like the other one. I’ll send a finch back to his office right away to let Sheriff Gardener know he has an appointment.”

A giant gilded cage, filled with the tiny chirping birds, sat next to her desk. Honey flicked open the gate with one of her long nails and released a fluttering finch into the room. It hovered for a moment as the receptionist whispered instructions, and then flew off, expertly navigating the many hallways.

Vivi paced for a few minutes before sitting on a hard wooden bench, waiting for her chance to speak with the sheriff.
Persuasions
came in all types. Some were service-oriented, like law enforcement, and were considered trade
persuasions
. As the sheriff, Lance Gardener’s name suited him perfectly. He was a straight arrow, honest to a fault, and he tended to Willow Realm with the heart and soul of a gardener nurturing his precious plants. A
persuasion
like Sheriff Gardener’s gave him an overwhelming need to seek justice, to protect and to serve, and he had been taking care of their little nook of the witching world for the past ten years.

The sheriff often passed by Vivi’s shop on his way to grab a cup of coffee at Nocturnes, and she couldn’t help but stop whatever she was doing and watch him amble by. He had broad shoulders and wore a simple yet beautiful cherry wood wand secured to his belt loop as the only weapon against crime. Never rushing or raising his voice, he was a pool of calm, and was always around when anyone needed him. She was counting on that now.

Finally, Juniper White, one of the sheriff’s deputies, appeared in the waiting area, pulling Vivi out of her head, reminding her why she had come. She tucked a strand of her short blond hair behind her ear as she approached. Technically, Juniper was an assistant deputy, but her work ethic and dedication were legendary around town.

“Come on back, Vivi.”

The Willow Realm Police Station was a labyrinth of oddly shaped rooms, twisted staircases, and angled hallways, which helped to break up any unexpected onslaught of attack magic, and the station was prepared for the worst. Vivi couldn’t decide if it was paranoia or precaution. The witching world had experienced troubled times marred with dark sorcery that left a bloody scar across its history, but that was in the past. Wasn’t it?

Vivi never thought anything bad would happen in her village, but times changed, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse.

Juniper led Vivi into a square interview room with a circular wooden table in the center. Engraved in the wood grain surface was the Witch Council motto:
The blood of our sisters and brothers binds us as a coven of one
. Vivi took a deep breath and thought about what the motto meant. The Witch Council had been established after the witches and wizards decided to leave the Otherworld behind and form Everland. It had been a tumultuous time and the idea of the coven of one stood for strength and unity. No witch or wizard was ever alone. Vivi was among her kind. They would help her.

Sheriff Gardener stepped into the room and shut the door. He had wavy blond hair, and his strong jaw was smooth as a baby’s bottom, without a hint of stubble. He was even more handsome now than he was back at Haven Academy, where they had been in the same class. She flushed at a memory of the crush she had on him back when they stole glances of each other between classes. She could have sworn she caught a flash of excitement in his golden-brown eyes when he saw her, too.

“Good to see you.” He shook her hand, holding it tightly for a moment. His eyes locked with hers, a smile turning up one corner of his mouth.

“You, too.” In the years since high school, Vivi had often caught herself daydreaming about the two of them reconnecting, enjoying a romantic dinner, walking hand in hand through the park, followed by a long warm embrace. Never, though, had she imagined their reunion would be in the police station and under terrible circumstances.

“I hear this isn’t a social call, so let’s get down to business. Juniper will be recording your visit and taking some notes for the record.” He pulled out a chair for her to sit and then joined her on the opposite side of the table.

Juniper straightened a stack of parchment and held a thin reed pen on the table in front of her.

“The record,” Vivi said. There was no tension in the room, but there was an air of official business.

“I like to go by the book. It’s a bit formal, but keeps things in order. Less mistakes that way. I see you brought some notes. That’s a good sign.” He reached over and tapped the cover of her journal in a casual way.

“Formal,” Vivi repeated. A lump caught in her throat. She sounded like a parrot. Formal was not the way she wanted to go. She was hoping to do a quick drop-off of information and put the sheriff into motion, get him to investigate the witch, make sure she was all right, so she could stop having visions about her.

The sheriff smiled. “I like to follow protocol. Record all complaints officially.”

Vivi’s pulse quickened. The last thing she wanted was to be recorded, officially or otherwise. “Well, you see, Sheriff, I was hoping to keep this matter as quiet as possible. I’m here to do my duty and hopefully help a witch in trouble.”

“Really?” His eyebrow raised, his curiosity piqued. “Why don’t you tell me everything and we’ll go from there?”

“I saw something,” Vivi began.
Just tell the truth
, she thought.

Growing up had been rough. Not many kids wanted to be friends with a witch with the last name of Mayhem, but Lance had always been kind to her and her sisters, never taunted or ridiculed or shied away, but treated them like they were just like everyone else. If anyone would believe her, it would be Lance.

“You witnessed a crime?” he asked. Concern welled in his golden-brown eyes.

“Yes. Well, no. I mean, yes.” Vivi stumbled on her words.

“Don’t be nervous.” He reached out and put a warm steady hand on her arm. There was something magical and reassuring in the gesture, a strong kindness.