Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
After Asher leaves for the diner, I settle into the library with a steaming mug of chamomile tea and start organizing the books into piles. Wiccan History goes in one stack, Spellcraft and Theory in another, and Hallowind Family Records gets its own special corner on the coffee table.
I’m three chapters into Foundations of Elemental Magic when the doorbell chimes through the house.
My stomach drops. Sebastian said he’d be back. It could be Margaret again. Or it could be someone from the Emberwood coven.
Maybe I should seek them out and meet up on my terms.
I pad to the front door in my socks and peer through the peephole.
A tall man in an impeccably tailored violet suit stands on the porch, briefcase in hand.
His hair catches my attention immediately—split perfectly down the middle, one half stark white, the other obsidian black.
He looks like the magical love child of the Joker and Cruella De Vil.
I crack the door open, keeping the chain latched. “Uh, can I help you?”
“Miss Poppy Hallowind-Forrester?” His voice carries the crisp precision of someone who’s never stumbled over a word in his life.
“I am Thaddeus Vale, solicitor for the Hallowind estate. I apologize for the delay. I’ve been trying to reach you since your twenty-first birthday and was only just able to track your magical signature. ”
My twenty-first birthday was more than a year ago. Asher and I celebrated it on Halloween night last year at the trampoline park. At the time, we didn’t know my actual birthday is August 29th. We found that out once we were here.
Once Sebastian unlocked my powers.
Right, he said the coven would sense my presence once my powers started to surface. I guess the family lawyer can sense me as well.
I study his face through the gap. His eyes are an unusual mauve-gray that seems to shimmer when the light hits them just right. Everything about him screams supernatural.
“How do I know you’re legitimate?”
He reaches into his jacket with deliberate movements and produces an embossed business card that hums with energy. The moment my fingers touch it, warmth spreads up my arm, and I know he’s telling the truth.
Huh, a magic business card.
I unhook the chain and open the door fully. “Come in, Mr. Vale.”
“Thank you. And call me Vale. Most everyone does.” He steps inside and surveys the entryway with the calculating gaze of someone inventorying assets. “I must say, the house has maintained itself remarkably well.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“Many times. I was a junior during the establishment of the Emberwood Elite. I’ve been assuring your families’ interest for generations now.”
I blink. “Looking good, Vale. Generations? You don’t look a day over forty.”
Vale dips his chin appreciatively. “Before she died, your mother entrusted me with certain responsibilities regarding the Hallowind estate and specifically your inheritance. Do you have a moment to discuss her wishes?”
“Absolutely. Anything you can tell me is so incredibly welcome.” He follows me back to the living room and sets his briefcase on the coffee table with practiced efficiency. “Can I get you some tea?”
He shakes his head. “Thank you, no. This visit will be brief and straight to business.”
I curl up in the armchair across from him, tucking my feet under me. “All right. Let’s hear it.”
Vale releases his briefcase with twin clicks and then opens the lid. Inside, everything sits in perfect compartments: documents, what looks like a jewelry box, and several items wrapped in midnight-blue silk.
“Your mother’s will stipulates that upon your twenty-first birthday, you are to inherit the following: first, a trust fund containing approximately two-point-three million dollars.”
My teacup slips from my fingers. I catch it before it hits the floor, but tea sloshes everywhere.
“I’m sorry, did you say—”
“Two-point-three million, yes. Second, you inherit this property, its contents, the cars in the garage, and a forty-seven-acre cottage property an hour north of here. These items are to be shared jointly between you and your sisters. Third, and most importantly for our purposes, you inherit these.”
He lifts the jewelry box and sets it between us. It’s carved from some dark wood I don’t recognize, with symbols etched around the edges that make my eyes water if I look too long.
“Your mother placed several enchanted objects in my keeping before her death. They are now yours by right.”
“What kind of enchanted objects?”
“A scrying mirror, a protection amulet that belonged to your great-grandmother, and a grimoire containing three centuries of Hallowind family spells.” His fingers drum once against his knee. “Among other things.”
The room spins a little. Money, land, magical artifacts—it’s like winning the lottery and discovering you’re royalty on the same day.
“Vale, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Do you know where my sisters are?”
His expression doesn’t change, but something flickers behind those strange eyes. “Sadly, I do not. After the accident claimed your parents, the placement of the three of you was handled directly by the coven solicitor. However, if you wish, I can make inquiries through my professional networks.”
“Yes, please.”
He makes a note in a leather portfolio. “Consider it done. What else troubles you?”
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but my ‘placement,’ as you called it, was the coven binding my powers, wiping my memories, and dumping me on a sidewalk in Wichita, Kansas.”
His dusty mauve eyes widen, and runes flash in his irises. “That can’t be.”
“Oh, I assure you, it be.”
His brow creases. “That is a most grievous violation of your rights, Poppy. And you, an Elite. This won’t stand. I swear to you, I will find out how this happened, who was behind it, and we shall strike them with the fiery fear of legal retribution.”
I shift to the front of my chair. “That sounds great, but I’m most interested in finding my sisters and being able to protect us from the wrath of the coven in the future.
I was told I have the same spirit affinity as my mother, and the members of the coven sent me away to keep me from following her path. ”
Vale frowns. “That is preemptively judgmental. Not only is it a gross violation of your right to choose, it’s cowardly, and outright illegal. Wait until the Witch and Warlock council hears about this. There will be outrage.”
I’m actually really glad to hear that. “The Witch and Warlock council? Which are you?”
“I am a warlock, though the terms are largely interchangeable in modern practice. Historically, ‘warlock’ implied an oath-breaker, but the large number of warlocks working in the legal profession has rehabilitated the word.”
“And demons? I met one yesterday. He said he was assigned as my familiar.”
One of Vale’s eyebrows rises slightly as he pulls a file from his briefcase and filters through paperwork. “Ah yes, S’Narkathis of Endless Ridicule. I was sent his contract to file. Everything looks to be in order with the terms of the assignment.”
“Assigned by whom?”
“The forces that govern witch-familiar bonds. Minor demons like S’Narkathis can be bound into service as part of your magical awakening. Think of it as cosmic customer service.” He straightens his already-perfect tie. “They can be irritating, but the bond cannot be broken except by death.”
Awesome. I’m magically stuck with a sarcastic demon who wants nothing to do with me.
Vale closes his briefcase and stands. “I’ll leave these items with you and return once I’ve gathered information about your sisters. In the meantime, I suggest you familiarize yourself with your inheritance.”
He hands me an ornate key that feels warm against my palm. “This opens your mother’s safe deposit box at First National Bank of Emberwood. You’ll find additional resources there.”
I walk him to the door, my head spinning with everything he’s told me.
“Miss Hallowind,” he says, pausing on the threshold. “Your mother was a remarkable woman. I am terribly sorry for your loss, but know that she planned carefully for this day. I am at your service.”
“Thank you.”
He nods once and strides toward a sleek black Mercedes parked in the driveway. As he approaches, his driver jumps out from behind the wheel and rushes around the car to open his door.
Two-point-three million dollars.
A house and forty-seven acres.
Magical artifacts.
I let out a hysterical squeal and then suck in a breath, an idea taking form in my mind. If I hurry, I can make it to the bank before it closes. Then, once I know what my mom left for me, I’ll go to the diner to tell Asher the news.
Ohmygod, he’s going to lose his mind.
I grab my phone and the ornate key, shoving both into the pockets of my stretch pants before heading outside and toward what I hope is the garage. Other than my foray into the backyard to go to the standing stones, I haven’t explored the property at all.
Used to the city and taking public transit or walking everywhere, it never occurred to me that my parents might’ve left us cars. But yeah, I guess if they were raising three girls, there must be something in there.
The garage door responds to my touch just like everything else in this place. Inside, two vehicles wait under dust covers like sleeping giants. I yank off the first cover and freeze.
A pristine Mustang fastback gleams cherry red beneath the fluorescent lights. The second cover reveals a Lexus LM minivan that looks like it just rolled off the lot.
“Um… nope.”
I back away from both cars. These aren’t “borrow for a quick trip to town” vehicles.
These are “crash this and ruin your inheritance” vehicles.
Plus, if they’ve been sitting here for five years, they’ll likely need fluid and new hoses and things, right?
I don’t know much about cars, but I know that.
Walking it is.
The November air bites at my skin as I step outside, but the afternoon sun warms my face. While Hallowind House isn’t directly in town, it sits maybe fifteen minutes away on foot.
Ten if I’m jazzed and on a mission.
Which I am.
I start down the long driveway, gravel crunching under my sneakers. The trees lining the path burst with autumn colors—deep reds and golden yellows that seem almost too vibrant to be real.
Maybe magic makes everything more intense here.
One road leads to another, and by the time I get to Main Street, I’m alone with my thoughts. The lack of traffic around here is unnerving. I’m used to cars and transportation buzzing down the streets at alarming speeds.
Here, the few cars that pass do so at a leisurely, respectful pace, garnering waves from people tending to their manicured lawns.
The occasional maple leaf spirals down from overhead branches, and I pull the collar of my jacket up to protect my neck from a stiff breeze. My footsteps echo off the sidewalk, creating a rhythm that matches my racing heartbeat.
Two-point-three million dollars.
The number is bouncing around in my skull like a pinging ball in a video game. Maybe I was used to having money while I was growing up, but I don’t remember, and that hasn’t been my experience over the last five years.
Asher and I have had to fight for every—
The snap of a twig sends an icy jolt up my spine.
I slow down and glance over my shoulder. Nothing. Just nice houses with landscaped hedges and tree-lined streets as far as the eye can see.
Though I don’t see anything, the sensation of not being alone out here persists. Call me paranoid, but I’d swear the heat of invisible eyes is warming my skin.
“S’Nark?” I call softly. “Is this you being creepy?”
There’s no response. I mentally gauge that I’m more than halfway to town. Closer to continue forward than to go back.
Not that I would go back. I’ve never been one to tuck tail and run. I take a deep breath and get my feet moving.
The trees seem to lean closer to the road here, their branches creating a canopy that blocks most of the sunlight. Shadows shift and dance in my peripheral vision, but every time I turn to look directly, I see only bark and leaves.
I pick up my pace.
The feeling of not being alone intensifies as I round a bend. My skin crawls with the certainty that something watches from the tree line. Not something friendly, either. Whatever lurks in those shadows carries a weight of malice that makes my newly awakened magic recoil.
“Get it together, Poppy,” I mutter, breaking into a light jog. “You’re being ridiculous. It was likely only a squirrel.”
But my body disagrees. Every instinct screams danger, urging me to run faster, get to safety, find people and the comfort of civilization.
The first buildings of Emberwood finally come into view—a blessed sight that makes my shoulders sag with relief. The oppressive sensation of being watched fades as I cross the street and find the bank Vale mentioned.
I slow to a walk again, trying to catch my breath without looking like I just fled something terrifying. Because that would be crazy. Right?
First National Bank of Emberwood sits on the corner of Main and Elm, a stately brick house with white columns and a plaque that reads “established 1892”. The clock above the entrance reads 4:15 PM, and the hours on the glass beside the door say it’s open until 5 PM.
Perfect. I’ve got forty-five minutes before they close.
I climb the steps, find the safe deposit box key practically burning a hole in my pocket, and push through the heavy glass doors into blessed normalcy.
“All right, Mom, let’s see what you left for me.”