Arrest, Search and Séance : Book 1 of the Fringe Society by R.D. Hunter (pdf e book reader TXT) 📕

but a partner who was as devoted to him as he was to her. I couldn’t give that to him, so we amicably parted ways with no hard feelings

It hurt…a lot. I did my share of crying and sulking, but after a few days a very good friend reminded me that this was my choice. And I either needed to reverse it and tell Jack I was wrong, or get over it and get on with my life. I chose the latter.

Jack soon went on to work at the Lit Candle, using his expert potion making skills and aura gazing abilities to craft exactly the drink you wanted before you even knew you wanted it. His charm and attention to detail soon enabled him to work his way up to manager, and that was the man I was looking at now.

He glanced up as I came in and, for a bare instant, I was back in that field, dancing in the fire light as we celebrated new life and new beginnings.

“Hello there,” he said in his thick Aussie accent as I approached the bar, “haven’t seen you in a while. How ya been?”

“Pretty good. Keeping busy.”

“You were always good at that.” Was it my imagination or did I hear a hint of regret in his voice? “Heard you got moved up that the high-profile cases. Congratulations.”

“How did you…?”

“Your grandpa,” he said, beginning to make me a drink even though I hadn’t asked for one. “He comes in here about two or three times a week, although sometimes he looks just as surprised to be here as we are to see him. Can’t resist talking about his granddaughter, the Great Detective, though. To hear him tell it, you’ve saved the world half a dozen times since being promoted.” I rolled my eyes.

“Then he’s crossed the line from exaggeration to outright lying. Most of what I’ve been doing is clerical duties and grunt work. Nothing ‘world saving’ about it.”

“Well, that stuff’s important to. Here, on the house for an old friend.” He set down a mug full of a bright, blue swirling liquid. As I watched, snow white bubbles burst to the top, making the mug turn frosty in my hand.

I took a sip. It was sweet, but not cloying, and went down smooth as silk. The bubbles continued to detonate all the way down, spreading a delicious cool feeling all over my body. I closed my eyes and sighed in contentment.

That is, until a brackish voice behind me said, “When’s the last time you gave us free drinks, Jack? Aren’t we old friends?” I watched my ex-flame’s face go rigid as he looked at the speaker

“No, Patricia. We’re not,” he said in a deadpan voice. I turned and saw a younger woman in her early twenties, decked out in black leather and with enough piercings in her face to give a metal detector a heart attack. Her hair was cropped short and a myriad of artificial colors. Her blackened lips were pulled up in a tight sneer, and behind her were two other women who obviously took their fashion cues from her.

“It’s just ‘Trisha’. No need to be all formal,” she said, sliding up and leaning on the bar before looking over at me like I’d just taken a shit on the stool. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Mel,” I said simply. A witch’s name given from her own lips can be a powerful thing if used in the wrong way. Apparently, Trisha knew this too because she gave me a nasty smile and proceeded to look me up and down with barely disguised scorn.

“Well, Mel,” she said my name like it was bitter on the tongue, “Jack and I have some important matters to discuss. So, why don’t you run along and find a quiet place to finish that drink. When you’re done, you can leave the same way you came in.” Oh, bitch.

“There’s nothing for us to discuss, Patricia,” Jack said before I could come back with an appropriately debilitating insult. “I told you, I’m not going out with you. I appreciate your business, and you are always a welcome customer, but that’s all you’ll ever be to me.”

Nice shutdown. Final, but not cruel. No room for interpretation. At least, that was what I thought.

Trisha gave a little giggle, which somehow sounded crueler than her words had been up to this point. She leaned over a bit more, showing more cleavage than was decent in a strip club.

“Silly boy,” she purred. “I didn’t say come on a date with me. I said, come on a date with us. As in, all of us.” Behind her, the other two girls giggled, played with their brightly colored hair and did their best to look sensual and desirable. I probably should have intervened right then, but I was having way too much fun watching this play out.

“That’s not going to happen, Patricia,” Jack sighed. He looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.

“Are you sure? I promise, one night with us and you’ll never even dream of another woman.” She slowly ran her tongue around her lips, which caused me to sputter rudely into my drink as I choked off a laugh.

She turned back towards me, the lustful vixen-routine dead in the water. Now she was all malice. Pissed at him for turning her down. Pissed at me for laughing about it, and I was the easier target. Or so she thought.

“Got something to say, Bitch?” she spat. The minions behind her took appropriately terrifying poses, crossing their arms and glaring at me dangerously. “You might have managed enough magic to get in here, but we all know that musclebound twit out front has more tattoos than brain cells, so don’t pat yourself on the back too hard. Us, we’re the real deal. Screw with