Witch's Bell Book One (36 page)

Read Witch's Bell Book One Online

Authors: Odette C. Bell

Tags: #romance, #mystery, #fantasy, #witches

BOOK: Witch's Bell Book One
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He looked at her evenly.
“You're annoyed
that I'm in your chair, aren't you?”

She hiccupped with
laughter.
“Yes,” she said squarely. “That's my chair.”


Well,” he shrugged, not moving,
“I got here first. And I think you'll find that it is the
department's chair,” he winked.


Well I suppose I'll sit on the
floor then,” she looked around, trying to make a show of things,
but managed to catch sight of Nate's gaze lingering on her new
clothes.


Or you could get a chair, it's
up to you. But once you've stopped worrying about furniture
restrictions, there's some stuff you should know,” Nate it seemed,
had snapped back to his in charge, in control, and in-the-moment
attitude. Playtime had just been canceled. “The Grimshores are an
old family, right?”

Ebony nodded.


Well, according to this,
they're not as old as you think,” he picked up one of the files.
“There's pretty extensive information here, but it only seems to go
back to the 1920s.”

Ebony made a face.
“Oh they're much
older than that ... I think,” she scratched at her head. It wasn't
as if she'd learned it in school or anything, but she was fairly
sure that the Grimshores were one of Vale's oldest established
families. But now she was pressed, she wasn't sure exactly where
she'd learned that fact.


Well those books I borrowed
from you on the history Vale, say you're wrong. The Grimshores only
arrived in the ‘20s. And by arrived, I mean popped up out of the
blue.”

Ebony made another face. Though
she couldn't put her finger on the exact facts, she simply knew
Nate must be wrong.
“No, that can't be right. Everyone knows that the
Grimshores are a very established family. They own some of the
nicest, oldest buildings in Vale, and they have their fingers in
nearly every business-flavored pie you could imagine.”

Nate just shrugged easily,
shoulders tugging at the fabric of his neat shirt.
“Well, not
according to these files, and not according to those books you gave
me. Now, unless you are telling me that these files are wrong, and
that those books you lent me were pure fiction, then the Grimshores
only appeared in the ‘20s.”

Ebony shook her head, her
expression a muddle of confusion.
“No. The magical files couldn't be wrong;
you can't doctor them or fake them like you could ordinary files.
They're heavily protected by the Truth—”


The truth?” his eyebrows
descended as his face was masked with confusion.


Oh, just one of the universal
forces – kind of like Death, but less active.”


Right,” Nate said
automatically.

There was that word again.
Ebony just ignored it.
“Anyhow, they can't be doctored. And those books
you got from my store – it's kind of the same thing. Believe it or
not, they're actually written by Harry. They're in-house editions,
if you will. Harry was a prolific historian, and an even greater
wizard. If that's what he said, then that's the truth ....
But—”


But what?” Nate neatened the
files in front of him, but didn't take his eyes off
Ebony.


I don't remember reading any of
this.”


Right,” he held out one of the
files, motioning for her to take it, “then re-read it and refresh
your memory.” He stood up from his chair, motioning for her to take
it. “I'm going to go find a chair, and maybe something to eat.
Don't you move now.”

Ebony rolled her eyes, and just kept
her smile at bay. He was being rude, she told herself, but she
couldn't help but smile. He was being arrogant and over-protective,
she tried to convince herself again, but, once again, she simply
smiled.

Was he really being arrogant, she
wondered, or was that simply what Ebony found easiest to believe?
Just as she'd done with her mother last night, Ebony had slipped
into the version of events that was easiest and most satisfying to
hold: the one where the world was against her, where her mother had
abandoned her, and where Ebony didn't seem in control, or
responsible, for anything that was happening.

And yet she'd had an almost
incident-free walk to work with her mother. Could the same be
happening with Nate? Could it be that what was easiest to believe
about the Detective simply wasn't true?

Finally Ebony glanced down at the
files, plunging herself into them like someone jumping into a lake
from a cliff above. And she instantly felt immersed.

Nate was right, she realized as
she flicked from file to file, there simply wasn't anything on the
Grimshores prior to the
‘20s. And he was also right about them seeming to
simply pop into existence. In the very first file pertaining to the
family, there simply wasn't any background information on them. In
fact, whoever had written the file, speculated on that exact fact –
the Grimshores didn't appear to have any traceable
history.

Ebony frowned as she read, her head
leaning on a hand as her eyes flicked across the text with the
darting energy of a hummingbird.

That wasn't all though, the Grimshores
it seemed, weren't quite the upstanding family everyone supposed.
Once again, if anyone had just asked Ebony whether the Grimshore
family were upstanding citizens, she would have nodded an emphatic
yes. They gave to charities, attended all the right functions, even
sat on all the right boards of administration. They were good
people, with the best interests of Vale at heart.

But now, well, Ebony was learning that
the once beautiful flower was fake, through and through. According
to these files, the Grimshores were involved in more magical crime
than you could shake a stick at (or a wand, or a broom, or a
sacrificial knife). For an intense period they seemed to have their
fingers in everything: from importing banned magical items to
trying to gain an unfair advantage through hexing.

But as far as she could tell, they
were never charged for any of it. Even though there was a whole box
pertaining to their extra-legal activities, the Grimshores weren't
once punished for any single crime. It was a fact that was noted in
their files, with some emphasis. It seemed that not only was it
very hard to pin a crime on the family, it was impossible to make
it stick. Things petered out, the files noted, as if the Grimshores
were less tangible, and less worthy of punishment, than a glorious
golden light.

By the time Nate finally returned,
Ebony was so engrossed in her files that she didn't notice him
until he stood right in front of the desk.


Doesn't make much sense, does
it?” he intoned with a keen voice, taking a sip of his coffee and
handing her one. “And makes you wonder what on Earth is really
going on.”

Ebony took a deep breath and
nodded.
“I
just don't get it,” she held the warm cup close to herself, eating
up the heat as if she'd just been dragged in from the snow. “Why
didn't I know these things? Why didn't anyone tell me? I've never
been told about any of this stuff. Not once have I ever heard the
barest whisper of any of this. The Grimshores are upstanding
people,” she said automatically, then stopped, shaking her head in
surprise. “Sorry, they're supposed to be upstanding
people.”

Nate's face had an unreadable
expression.
“You just said they were. Say it again.”


Sorry?” she took a sip from her
coffee, not following him.


Say that the Grimshores aren't
upstanding people. Try and say it.”

She looked at him askance,
hoping he realized how mad he sounded.
“Okay. The Grimshores are upstanding
people.” It took her several seconds to realize what she'd said.
“No, sorry – they aren't upstanding people,” she managed with
considerable effort.

Nate put his coffee down on the
desk.
“I'd
say that's pretty weird, wouldn't you? Not being able to say a word
against the Grimshores?”

Ebony, lips parted, just
nodded.


Almost sounds magical,” he
crossed his arms, still staring down at her.

Ebony chewed at her
lips.
“This
isn't good, Nate, in fact, this is very, very bad.”


Strong magic?”


Very strong magic,” she sat
back from the files, staring up at him, not really knowing what to
do or say next.


Then that's good, right?” he
shrugged, smiling down at her.


Sorry, how is that
good?”


Because we now have a lead. You
think it's a coincidence that a Grimshore just happens to be
involved in the crime that gets you slapped with a wild punishment
you don't deserve?” he put both hands down on the desk, as if to
emphasize his point.


Oh,” Ebony managed, voice
blank, “right,” she found herself using the same word Nate always
did.

Her eyes followed his arms down to the
desk, for some reason, and she took a moment to stare at what was
there.


Oh my goodness,” she said
slowly, voice tiny.


What is it?” Nate's voice was
quick.

Ebony picked up one of the
files, gently plucking a photo out from between the pages. She'd
seen this picture earlier this morning, but she obviously hadn't
properly looked at it.
“Nate,” she looked up at him, her eyes wide with
shock. “I've seen this before!”

He probably resisted the urge
to crack a joke, and just nodded at her quickly.
“Where?”

She swallowed.
“In the
crypt.”

Very suddenly Ebony's arm began
to ache. Her wound from the crypt suddenly erupted in a dull,
persistent pain. She rubbed at it, but didn't put down the
photo.
“Nate, this was on the cover of the book the man from the
crypt was using for his spell.”


That's the Grimshore family
crest,” he said automatically. “But Ebony, what book are you
talking about?”

Ebony blinked rapidly.
“The book, from the
crypt. The one that contained his spell for the future – the whole
reason for summoning Death. You must know what I'm talking about,”
she laughed uneasily, “Nate?”

He shook his head.
“We never recovered
a book, Ebony. Just the guy and Cecilia Grimshore.”

Ebony kept blinking.
“But the
book—”


This is important, isn't
it?”

She nodded, wiping at her
mouth.
“Kind
of, yeah. The book was the whole point of his spell. I mean ...”
her voice trailed off. She was suddenly starting to feel very cold,
and very alone.

Maybe Nate noticed, because he reached
out a hand and placed it lightly on her arm. Instantly her flesh
began to warm with a pleasant tingle.

And maybe he'd also started to notice
that Ebony was feeling alone, because at that exact moment, he
leaned further over the desk, face angling her way.

Chapter 16

Ebony stopped thinking about
all her problems, the Grimshores, the world, magic
– and any other
manner of things. In fact, 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 Ebony's desk. A
fact she noticed as her fingers touched lightly against the wood,
her body leaning forward. Her once-wild hair slipped over each
shoulder, dangling before her, as her hands planted themselves
firmly on the desk.

As he pressed 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 back like a wave
tracking back to the ocean, and delved a hand into his
pocket.

Ebony simply stood there, body pressed
up and over the desk, face still dangling there like a Christmas
decoration still up in the middle of July.

Then she took a deep breath, as that
was the only thing she could possibly think of doing right
now.


Detective Wall here,” Nate
said, tone completely normal.

Ebony blinked automatically, her
attention and concentration slowly returning to her.

Not a trace of the awkward, the
sudden, or anything else, tainted Nate's words. He spoke just as
automatically and coolly as he always did.


I see,” Nate nodded quickly,
eyes suddenly darting out the window, “and where is this,
exactly?”

Ebony, lips parted, just 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 who might as
well have been organizing troops for a battle, given the tone of
command in his voice.

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