Basic Witch_Witches of Salem

10

I hustled back to the retail district, reaching the shop just as the clock struck twelve—and miraculously, my feet didn’t hurt a bit. I had to remember to thank David for the magic stilettos. I had just opened the door and set my familiar tote—and sleeping familiar— inside when a deep, rich voice growled my name.

“Gemma Bradbury?”

I turned around to see a towering hulk of a man with broad shoulders, massive biceps, a dark goatee, and flowing dark hair twisted into a haphazard bun at the back of his head. He was clad in tight black jeans and a sheer long-sleeved navy tee that showed off a handful of tribal tattoos scattered over his arms and revealed every single curve of his brawny chest. He fixed his crystal blue eyes on me and smiled, the kind of captivating, intoxicating smile that promises fulfillment of your every fantasy.

“Hi,” I squeaked. Now I understood what all the fuss was about.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying you are a sight to behold,” he said. “I’m Clarence Hakim. “He offered me his hand, which dwarfed mine as I accepted. Clasping my hand in both of his, he bowed, planting a soft kiss on the back of my fingertips. “I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances. How are you enjoying Salem so far?”

“Circumstances could be better,” I agreed. Hold it together, Gemma. He might be a murderer. “But Salem is lovely. Aside from… you know.”

“Yes, I can imagine your crossing over came as quite a shock. And to find Morty like that....” Clarence shook his head, his eyes filling with a gentle sadness. Okay, so maybe the sexiest, nicest murderer ever, but still possibly a murderer.

“Do you mind if I come inside?” He asked.

“Oh, um…” I cast an awkward glance at the shop door, which Clarence picked up on immediately. He raised his hands in apology.

“Forgive me. I wasn’t thinking. Of course you aren’t comfortable inviting a strange man into the place where you just found a dead body. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

“Thanks for understanding,” I said. “We could talk out here, though. I’m waiting for someone, but he’s seems to be running a bit late.”

“I assume you’ve heard about my disagreement with Morty,” he said.

“A bit, yes. I was actually planning to come talk to you about that. What were you arguing about?”

“Morty has been pressing me for a better deal on my magical herbs,” he said. “But my prices are already as low as they can go without cutting into my ability to pay the workers a living wage.” He shrugged. “Morty threatened me, saying he’d stop buying from me and bring his supply in from Avalon instead. Which would be fine for him. He could buy from any supplier he chose. But I’m under strict contract not to sell magical goods to anyone but Morty. And now, you, I suppose.”

“That must have made you really angry,” I said.

“It did,” he admitted. “And I’m not a man who angers easily. But I also don’t believe Morty would have followed through with his threats. The logistics of importing goods from Avalon alone are enough to drive a man mad.”

“I don’t know how I’d react if someone threatened to ruin my business,” I pressed.

“I know what you’re thinking. But I didn’t kill Mortimer Montcrief.”

“Where were you at the time of the murder?”

“I spent the afternoon at home, napping. We harvest our magical herbs beneath the light of the full moon, and I wanted to be well-rested.”

“Can anyone account for your whereabouts?”

“Any member of my household staff,” he said. “You’re welcome to speak to any of them.”

“How about someone who’s not on your payroll?”

“No. Just me and the staff.” Clarence gazed at me thoughtfully. “No wife or girlfriend. In case you were wondering.”

“Thanks for clearing that up,” I said with a small smile. “I want to believe you.” And I really, really did. The idea that a man as breathtakingly beautiful, and by all accounts, as kind, as Clarence Hakim could murder an old man just didn’t sit well with me. But that didn’t mean he was innocent. “What happens with your contract with Morty now that he’s dead?”

“You’d think it would be considered null and void,” he said. “But Coven contracts don’t work like that. They don’t expire on death. The rights outlined in the contract pass to the rightful heir—at the moment that’s you, but it may eventually be Mason—and the same guidelines stay in place unless new terms are negotiated.”

“I see.” If Clarence couldn’t guarantee he’d secured a contractual win after Morty’s death, what would be the point in killing him?

“I can see why my last encounter with Morty would cast suspicion on me,” he said, “But his death has created more complications for my business, not fewer. I’m now faced with mounting uncertainty over whether I’ll even be able to sell my crops to anyone. I can afford the legal fees to sort through all of this, but I can’t afford to waste time in doing so. Are you open to renegotiating my deal with Morty?”

“Yes,” I offered. “But I’ll need some time to study the business before I can make an educated decision. In the meantime, why don’t we assume that I can continue to buy from you as the same prices as before? If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”

“Perhaps,” he began, taking my hands in his, as he inclined his head toward mine, “we can discuss it over dinner?” His pale blue eyes, accented by occasional flecks of gold that shined like the desert sun, fixed on mine, staring so intently I thought he might be peeking into my soul.

“Discuss what over dinner?” At the sounds of Beau’s voice, I snapped back to reality.

Clarence straightened, releasing my hands with a sultry smile. “Our relationship.”

“Oh?” Beau arched an eyebrow, smiling at me through slightly clenched teeth. “That was fast.” “Our business relationship,” I clarified. Beau’s jaw relaxed a bit, and he inched toward me.

“Sorry I’m late,” Beau said. “Minor magic emergency back at the College. Are you ready for lunch?” He held up a basket filled with a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, and a selection of meat, cheese, and fruit.

“Sure,” I said. “Meet you inside?”

He frowned, glancing at Clarence and then back at me. Clarence seemed nonplussed, so I took a cue from the jinn and smiled calmly back at Beau, which only seemed to fluster him more. After a few moments of deliberation, he went inside.

“Apologies,” Clarence offered once Beau closed the door. “I didn’t realize you were involved.”

“I’m not,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I mean, I’m his student. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“You strike me as a woman worth breaking a few rules over,” he said. “I accept the terms offered regarding the purchase of magical herbs from my plantation. But my dinner invitation stands.”

“Can I think about it?”

“I certainly hope you will,” he said. He kissed my hand once more. As he withdrew his fingertips from mine, the lower half of his body was enveloped in a dark blue swirling mist—what I imagined was his true jinn form—and he vanished into the sky.