CHAPTER TEN

If she had put her mind to it, Fiona’s Skretting could have become a very accomplished parallel parker. But it wasn’t worth her bother. If two other cars were too difficult to squeeze between, then she had no intention of being inconvenienced.

So it was that Margo came across the striking sight of two driverless cars rolling gently away from one another until they bumped into adjoining vehicles. After which, Fiona’s sporty black convertible slid into the now spacious parking spot.

Margo’s walk slowed to a crawl. She had definitely spotted a witch, and one who was unconcerned about protecting her identity. Instinctively, Margo followed at a safe distance. A woman with a tiny poodle-mix dog crossed paths with Fiona. Her dog yipped and yapped at Fiona, and the owner smiled apologetically.

Fiona pointed a long, thin finger at the dog, whose mouth continued to open and close, but with no sound coming out. He had been muted like an annoying commercial. The owner stopped, confused and horrified. She gasped at Fiona, who arched an eyebrow and continued on her way.

Fiona’s next victims were a family of five, including three extremely noisy, rambunctious children whose parents probably described them as exuberant. Fiona’s patience for even well-behaved children was limited. For these irritating rugrats, it was nonexistent. One of them sprayed her with his water gun.

“I got her. I got her good.”

“Oh, Lucas. Stop that. Sorry about that. But you should take that as a compliment. Because he only does that to goodhearted people who have a good sense of humor.”

Boy, were they barking up the wrong tree. Fiona cocked her head for a moment, thinking of a suitable response. Then she regarded the family again as the hair of every one of them changed into a bright purple. As she walked away, she grinned evilly. “I have an excellent sense of humor.”

The shriek of horror behind her only intensified her glee.

Margo’s mouth dropped open. This witch was nothing like Delphine. This woman was downright scary. Margo dropped even farther back. She certainly didn’t want Fiona to catch sight of her. But it was to no avail. Fiona was fully aware of her fascinated observer.

In fact, though she regularly engaged in mischief, she was laying it on particularly thick on this occasion, precisely because she knew Margo was watching. Word had spread that Lilith’s organs had been distributed amongst the commoners. But clearly, none of these organ recipients could have more than a fraction of Lilith great powers, and Fiona was quite happy to remind the unworthy little fledgling witch who was now the top dog.

*****

Margo stood reverently in front of Lilith Hazelwood’s tombstone. It was a beautiful polished gray granite, notably larger and more ornate than the vast majority of the surrounding headstones, just as Lilith would have insisted on, had she thought to make any funeral arrangements.

Margo wasn’t sure why she hadn’t come sooner. The only other occasions she’d ever come to the cemetery were to visit her mother. How different these two women were, and yet both had made her what she was. Her mother would always have her unwavering affection and devotion, even though Margo had never had a chance to know her. But her mother had given her a weak heart, and this witch had given her a strong one.

Delphine crept up behind Margo unnoticed. “I was surprised when you asked to meet here,” Delphine said “Commoners usually find it a sad or frightening place. But most of us find it a very peaceful place, soulful, comforting. Are you already starting to feel that?”

“I’m trying to understand what it means to be a witch. I saw Fiona Skretting this morning. She was doing really mean things to people. She was terrifying. And she seemed to . . . get a kick out of it.”

“I have always seen our powers as a gift. But without a doubt, they can be twisted into something else. There is nothing inherently evil about our community. And while I hesitate to characterize Fiona as an evil being, there is little about her that’s good. Too much power can be conducive to excesses of recklessness, self-centeredness, maliciousness, and in the case of one who was only the second-most powerful witch in the community, bitterness. She bitterly resented Lilith Hazelwood, and I believe that bitterness consumed her and became her.”

“But was Lilith like that?” Margo asked uneasily.

“Lilith? Imagine your favorite performer artist, musician, or actor. Someone whose talent fills you with awe and wonder. Suppose they were filled with ego and selfishness. They’re a nightmare to work with, demanding, a diva. But their talent is sublime, so awe-inspiring that you make allowances for their extreme personality. You take the bad with the good. That was how I saw Lilith. She showed us the heights of our capabilities. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t be bothered to be a friend or mentor to any of us. I always hoped that she found some contentment in life as she chose to live it.”

“You know, she’s given me more than just a strong heart and the powers you’ve shown me.”

“Her fearlessness.”

“Yes! That part of her. But, I worry . . .”

“The essence of who you were before has not disappeared. You’ll be enhanced by her strength, but you shouldn’t fear being corrupted by her lesser tendencies.”

Margo paused thoughtfully. “And Fiona Skretting. You say that she resented Lilith. You said that Lilith was killed. Fiona was also at the restaurant when Julian Meeks was killed. Delphine . . . did she do it? Any of it?”

“I wish I knew. She is a practitioner of the dark arts. There’s no doubt of that. I think I understand why she would want to be rid of Lilith. But I cannot know why she would have targeted that particular commoner. I gather he was in a rather unpleasant business, but I don’t think she had enough morality to be troubled by it. And he would have had to do something truly heinous to receive a death sentence. Even the dark arts are governed by laws of justice.”

“With all of her powers, she probably knows something. She could probably tell me something useful or important about Julian Meeks’s murder if she really wanted to,” Margo speculated.

Delphine shook her head. “If she really wanted to, and I don’t know why she would. And if she wasn’t involved—and that is something that has not been ruled out—that is not a promising road to the answers you seek.”

“But I’m running out of roads,” Margo said grimly.

Delphine couldn’t help but worry. The growing courage and stubbornness and determination in Margo were unlikely to be halted by an argument for caution. She could only hope that Margo presented so little threat to Fiona, that fact alone would help keep her safe.

*****

Lost in thought on her way back to work, Margo was stopped in her tracks by the mother of all déjà-vus. A group of bullies was shoving a younger boy, except this time, it was four to one. The cowardly advantage had Margo seething with anger, even from a great distance. She quickened her step and reached them in moments.

The victim’s face was familiar, as were most of the bullies. They had come into the theater with their parents for some family classics, primarily in their younger years. The mothers would undoubtedly have cringed with shame to see their children behaving so brutally. From the smug, confrontational looks on their faces, that was unlikely to be a convincing argument. No matter. Margo was geared up for a fight.

“Can we help you?” the biggest one asked roughly.

“Yes. I was hoping to have a word with my old friend . . .” She snapped her finger, looking at the younger boy, trying to summon his name from memory.

“Lewis,” the younger boy squeaked out.

“Lewis is indisposed,” the leader of the group joked, leaving the others in fits of laughter.

“I think Lewis would prefer my company to hanging out with a bunch of spineless cowards whose idea of a fair fight is four to one.”

“How about four on two?” the bully said menacingly.

“How about it?” Margo bristled, not backing down an inch. “Or can you only deal with someone smaller than you?”

“Bigger, smaller, nobody wins against us.”

Margo got right in his face, her left hand grasping her pendant. “I suggest you go home.”

“Carl, listen to her. She called you spineless, man. Want to show her your spine?”

Reminded of Margo’s intolerable insults, the leader’s face hardened. Almost in slow motion, Margo saw the punch coming. She saw the shoulder draw back and the fist clench. By the time it connected with her, she was ready.

“Nesploro Fiere!”

Carl’s body jumped backward three feet and fell flat on the ground as if he had just touched an electrical fence. He started howling in pain. His buddies gathered around him. Their eyes, however, were still on Margo.

“Dude, what happened?”

“Get him up, get him up.”

They dragged Carl to his feet. He was still shaken, but it was clear that the pain was over. He pointed at Margo.

“She’s got some kind of taser. Yeah. Some kind of machine. I’m going to tell my parents. I’ll tell the police too.”

“I would love to have a sit down with your parents and talk to them about how you behave. I’m sure it will be a proud moment for them. What do you think? And the police? I’ve got a good friend on the police force. I think he, too, would dearly love to have a chat with you about ganging up on a smaller kid. I think we would all like to weigh in on that.”

The boys soon came to the conclusion that the best course of action was to hightail it out of there.

“Why don’t you walk with me?” Margo said to Lewis.

“How did you do that?” Lewis asked in awe.

“Did you ever see that movie, Taken? Well, Liam Neeson is not the only person with a particular set of skills.”

“That was a really good movie,” Lewis said, more impressed with Margo than Liam.

“Yeah? I only saw the previews. I never actually saw the movie. I thought it would be too scary for me.”

The thought of anything being too scary for this bold, unflappable woman made Lewis shake his head.

Lilith nodded approvingly. Most of her afternoons trailing Margo were full of social pleasantries, dull business errands, and excruciating romantic nonsense. But this incident was one of the most promising that Lilith had witnessed to date. Margo’s willingness to take action and use her powers, and inflict a little sting on an insufferable brat . . . all boded well for her future usefulness.

*****

Having secured Lewis’s promise that he would give her a heads up if those boys so much as gave him a dirty look, Margo headed to Margo’s Movie House to open up for the afternoon show. She still remembered the look of relief on his face, which certainly took away some of her misgivings about going all vigilante on the bully. She knew she hadn’t inflicted any lasting damage, and she knew it because the amount of force had actually felt under her control. Besides, that punch would have hurt.

Margo couldn’t help but think back to her conversation with Delphine just that morning. What kind of witch was she going to be?

Just before reaching the theater entrance, Margo glanced at the coffeehouse window next door and saw Dr. Svenson enjoying a frosty blended latte and perusing a medical journal. Dear Dr. Svenson. Nothing could diminish Margo’s gratitude and high regard for him. However, she would’ve appreciated a fuller disclosure from him about how her life was about to be transformed.

“Margo. How nice to see you. I was hoping you might see me on your way to the theater. I know we have a checkup scheduled soon, but I always like to know that you’re doing well.”

“Oh, I’m doing very well. My heart lets me do all kinds of new and interesting things.”

There were candles on the café table, a little atmosphere for the evening hours. Margo reached over and touched the wick on one of them.

“Nesploro Fiere,” she whispered. The candle burst into flame. The doctor’s face was, predictably, filled with amazement.

“What is this? Is this some kind of trick?” he marveled.

“No, Dr. Svenson. This is called being a witch,” Margo said pointedly. “Why didn’t you tell me that Lilith Hazelwood was a witch?”

This was not an unexpected confrontation. The doctor had known that he should eventually tell Margo the full story behind her heart. But it was something that she might have some mixed feelings about. He could assure her that Lilith’s heart was just like any other human heart, just more robust, stronger, and younger. And beyond giving her an enviable endurance, it would not affect her life or capability in any other way. That’s what he’d always planned on telling her. Now, she was telling him something quite different and it left him dumbfounded.

“This is impossible. You cannot become a witch. It is simply impossible.”

Margo took his latte off the saucer it was perched on and pulled the saucer in front of her. “Refractere.” It quickly shattered.

The doctor swallowed hard, mind racing. What had he done? How could Margo Bailey be a witch? And at the same time, she was clearly blooming with health. That was certainly worth any . . . side effects, surely.

“What . . . were those words that you just said? How did you learn them?”

“Delphine Sykes is helping me to figure out how to use my powers. The powers that have come to me from Lilith Hazelwood’s heart. And the anger. I used to be scared of getting angry. You told me never to let myself get worked up over anything. But Delphine shows me how to channel it into the magic. And then it’s gone. Then it can’t hurt me.”

“No wonder. Perhaps she was trying to tell me this. She certainly must have known that day in the Hazlewood house.”

“You really didn’t know this would happen?”

“No. It’s rather fascinating. It’s extraordinarily fascinating. There are so many studies that need to be done.”

Margo shook her head. “I don’t want to be studied. I’m pretty sure that none of them want to be studied. They’re just humans who want to be left alone and live their own lives. Yes, they can do some extraordinary things. They don’t want to live in a laboratory, and neither would I. I hoped you might have some answers for me. But I’m going to have to find my own, and that’s okay. I’m starting to become very glad that I have a witch’s heart. I was so fragile before. Now I feel like I can do anything, face anything, not be scared of anyone.”

“Margo, I’m glad you are feeling so strong. But do not forget how powerful Lilith Hazelwood was, and she still died. She was not immortal, and neither are you. I hope you will not behave recklessly. Just because you’re no longer fragile does not mean that you can’t break. I feel responsible for all of this.”

Margo stood up. “You are responsible for saving my life.” She bent over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”

The doctor watched Margo walk to the theater with a bounce in her step. He still struggled to take in this unbelievable but undeniable reality. As little as he knew about Margo’s new condition, he hoped she would take his advice. No recklessness. No unnecessary risk. It was perhaps just as well that Margo’s actual plans were unknown to him.

*****

Margo was feeling emboldened the following afternoon. She’d had a lovely evening the previous night after work. Finn had stopped by and they had two hours to spend together before he had to leave for his police shift. They took a long walk on the moonlit beach, hand-in-hand, talking about families. Movies. Surfing.

Margo hadn’t wanted to press him on the Meeks murder. She wouldn’t want to violate his professional ethics. She looked forward to the day when the two of them could talk about everything. Everything! Including her new powers. Would he freak out? The doctor handled the news pretty well. But then, the doctor had knowingly put a witch’s heart into her, so, yeah, he was a lot less surprised.

A few more intoxicating kisses before Finn headed off to work. He fussed a bit when she wouldn’t accept a ride home. The moon was too big and glorious not to savor every moment of it. Maybe it was her imagination, but it felt positively energizing. Energy she would need the next day when she was determined that she would confront Fiona Skretting.

*****

Fiona lived quite a way inland. Her house was just yards away from a large, cool pine forest. Her house was a dark, somber gray, decidedly in contrast to homeowners who painted their colorful homes as if to keep the tourists in a good mood.

As Margo strode up the walkway with determination, the door opened, and there stood an ominously suspicious Fiona. She examined Margo from head to toe.

“Good. I was worried this was going to be a more memorable encounter.”

“What . . . what do you mean?”

“I thought Lilith might have taken possession of your body and come to pay me a call.”

Margo could not have been more taken aback. “She can do that?” she practically shouted at Fiona.

“I assume her spirit still retains some of its former strengths. Though I see you’ve inherited some portion. Well, come in. You’ve interrupted my coffee.”

Margo breathed a sigh of relief. Coffee was normal, right? Maybe Fiona was more normal than she’d been led to believe. She followed her into the dark house. With closed curtains, Margo could hardly make out the outline of the furniture. She stumbled over a foot rest.

Fiona sighed, exasperated, and the living room lights all turned on at once. “My sight is keen without the light, but clearly, your talents are limited. Lilith could certainly do better for a host body, but then, I’m sure she’s already figured that out for herself.”

“Not a lot freaks me out these days, but this whole host body thing is a lot to wrap my head around.”

Fiona was not a woman of patience. “Why are you here?”

“I was hoping you could help me.”

“Do I look like a scout leader?”

 “You look like the most powerful witch in Oyster Cove,” Margo said, hoping to appeal to Fiona’s ego. “I was sure you would have some special insight.”

“Hmphh! Into what?”

“You were at Russell Knox’s tapas restaurant the night that Julian Meeks was poisoned.”

“Ah, yes. That was an exciting evening, wasn’t it?”

“Or tragic, depending on how you look at things like that.”

“I find the drama of commoners very entertaining.”

“Even a murder?”

Fiona’s grin was unapologetic. “What could be more entertaining? Hate. Pre-meditation. Anguish. And the extinction of life. I have an appreciation for high drama.”

“I prefer old movies myself. Why were you there that night?”

Fiona tilted her head, determined to be as unhelpful as possible. “I’d heard wonderful things about his pot stickers. Well-deserved praise. Too bad Mr. Knox is headed for a life behind bars.”

“He’s innocent.”

“Yes, he is. But that’s a pretty hard thing to prove.”

Margo was startled. “You know he didn’t do it? Why were you really there that night?”

This was a cat and mouse game that Fiona couldn’t resist. “There was a dark energy swirling over the roof that night. A destiny of death, moving toward fruition. It was not to be missed.”

So there was no turning back. The question had to be asked. “Did you have anything to do with Julian Meeks’s death?”

“What if I did? What if I had just cause to send him to the next world? What do you think you could do about it? And what makes you think you might not suffer the same fate?”

“I just want to get an innocent man out of jail.”

“His suffering is of no consequence to me. I practice the dark arts as I see fit, and I answer to no one. You would be well advised to remember that. Has anyone suffered at my hands recently? That’s a real possibility, isn’t it? There’s always someone about who deserves it. Now go. My coffee has gotten cold.”

 Just a light touch on the handle of her mug, and hot steam from the drink drifted into the air. Margo was so outmatched, it wasn’t funny. And it wasn’t safe. She fairly sprinted out of the house into the fresh air with a sigh of relief.