Spell Maven from Spell Haven by Megan Marple

Author:Megan Marple [Marple, Megan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-15T16:00:00+00:00

The outside of the Blue Hill Apartment building wasn’t much to look at, especially given the scenic view around it. With the mountains that led to Arcadia on one side in the distance, and the Valley down below that led down to Lachlan’s Lake, Blue Hill Apartments sat on top of the bluish tinged grass like an utter eyesore against the skyline.

“Wow. This is not at all what I was expecting,” Fiona-Leigh said as we all got out of the carriage. After much begging and pleading with me, she’d finally weaseled her way into being part of the search for Tristan.

I tucked my wand back into my pocket, assessing the rundown building. I hated to think that my brother lived here but given the circumstances, I guess it made sense. “Come on. I don’t want to be here all day snooping around.”

We walked up to the second floor where his apartment supposedly was, and despite the good breeze coming in, it still felt swampy and warm.

“I’ve hacked up hairballs that look better than this place,” Oisín muttered, trailing after us. “You would think working for a mobster would come with better perks.”

“Your brother works for a mobster?” Fiona-Leigh repeated, her blue eyes wide as we stood outside #6. “There’s like a vampire Mafia?”

I pulled my wand back out, half wanting to ignore the comment. “Not exactly. It’s a long story, but let’s just say Tristan wasn’t in the best of company.” Unlocking the door, I flicked my wand, turning on all the lights inside.

Despite the light starting to warm up the room some, the inside of my brother’s apartment still felt dark and abandoned. The walls were in desperate need of a good washing. The worn-down sofa had seen better days, and I wasn’t sure whether the shaggy dark circle on the floor was a rug or a dead animal.

The door creaked shut behind me as I let them past. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one judging the place.

“Not trying to be rude or anything, but it sort of smells like a meth lab in here,” Fiona-Leigh said as she coughed, her face scrunched up.

“And how do you know what a meth lab smells like?” I replied. “It definitely smells . . . stale. This is—ugh, yeah it might be that over there.” I pointed to the several week-old half-eaten sandwich that was sitting on the small table in what I assumed to be Tristan’s dining room space. From this angle I was pretty sure I could see fur growing around it.

Oisín yowled, scampering backwards from sticking his head up in the air to sniff. “Did anyone else see something moving inside of it?”

Okay, clearly this was going to get out of hand fast if I didn’t quickly take the lead. “Yes, you two, it’s pretty foul in here, I’ll give you that. But we need to stay focused. Be very careful when you’re looking around, and don’t touch anything that doesn’t look . . .” I scanned the room, wincing.

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