Harley Merlin and the Secret Coven Read online

  “See what?” she asked.

  “The… The card in the window.”

  “What card?”

  I looked at the window again, and the card was still very much there. Something clicked in my head, and I instantly understood that it was just for me to see, and no one else. The dude’s a warlock, after all. And he’s basically trolling me!

  “N-Never mind.” I shook my head as the lady walked away. “Sorry.”

  I stared at the card for a while, trying to figure out how Wade had pulled this off. Did he know I’d be walking past that specific store, at that specific time? How did he… Had he followed me?

  After a couple of deep breaths, I decided not to let him get to me. If this was his way of trying to capture my attention, I was sure as hell not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing it had worked.

  I resumed my walk past other stores, but my temperature spiked as I spotted the card again, in other windows. It was everywhere, its golden letters quietly glimmering in the morning sunlight. I walked faster, heart thudding as I turned the corner and came to a sudden halt.

  Every single window down the block had one of Wade’s cards in it. And I was the only one who could see them.

  “That just makes me want to get as far away from you creeps as possible,” I breathed, ignoring the shop windows entirely.

  I resisted the urge to call Ryann just so I could get my fix of tranquility. She was probably busy making her way back to UCLA, anyway. Instead, I went home and enjoyed the rest of my day off with a solid TV binge about teenage vampires in Pennsylvania.

  On day two, I didn’t even leave the house. After a full breakfast and two coffees, I settled on the sofa and turned on my TV, hoping I’d get my mind off things. The more creeped out I got, the more determined I was not to give in. Who the hell was Wade Crowley to tell me what I should do with my life, anyway?

  After just twenty minutes of pretending to watch a vampire flick, I flipped open my laptop and started searching the internet for anything related to witches, warlocks, and covens. Nothing popped up for the San Diego Coven, of course, other than a message board for Wiccan practitioners, but they were completely harmless fifteen-year-olds with way too much free time on their hands. They riddled their posts with winking and heart-shaped emojis and lots of Xs and Os.

  I’d gone through the motions before, as far as internet research into witchcraft was concerned. But I didn’t have as much information then as I did now—though the difference wasn’t exactly staggering. The Wade Crowley I’d met wasn’t on any of the social networks, nor did I find any of his pictures online.

  But when I started looking for ways to ward off magic, the search engine was overloaded with all kinds of websites. After some light browsing, I noticed some recurring patterns in the recommendations—lining the doors and windows with salt to ward off evil spirits and dark magic.

  “Might as well,” I muttered, then grabbed the salt shaker from the kitchen and lined the door and windows, as per online instructions.

  I ordered a large pizza and was careful not to disrupt the salt line when the delivery boy brought it over. Armed with a can of chilled Coke and a gorgeous cheese pizza just for me and my ragged nerves, I switched to a romantic drama, putting my feet up on the coffee table.

  I inhaled the first two slices as I absently watched the main character, a blonde-haired heroine with perfect natural makeup, awkwardly ask her love interest out on a date. Oh, the bravery—according to her goofy best friend. Ugh.

  Something didn’t taste right where my third slice was concerned. The more I chewed, the worse the texture became. It tasted almost like… paper.

  “What the…” I mumbled, then looked down and nearly choked.

  I sat up straight and used both hands to tear the pizza slice in two. Right in the middle, nestled between melted strings of mozzarella cheese, was Wade Crowley’s business card. Well, half of it, anyway. I stared at it, unable to register the reality of what was going on.

  “Seriously, this is some messed up—” I bit my tongue, then dumped the pizza pieces on top of the rest, before washing the taste of paper down with Coke.

  I was equal parts angry and creeped out, wondering how much farther Wade would take things if I didn’t call him. I had no idea what to do. Move to another city, maybe? Los Angeles or San Francisco could work. I’d always wanted to see more of my country, anyway. Why not start now?

  But maybe Wade wasn’t going to stop. Maybe the coven was going to come after me in the end.

  “Jeez, listen to yourself!” I groaned, leaning back into my sofa, just as the guy on TV kissed the girl for the first time. I waited for my heart to flutter, as it usually did with kissing scenes, but nothing happened.

  My mind was stuck on Wade and his stupid magic tricks.

  Why was I letting him drive me out of town? I’d survived childhood in the foster care of some truly horrible people. There was no way I was letting that jerk scare me out of my own city. Hell, no.

  On day three, I was still significantly on edge. I had a shift at the casino, which I hoped would help keep me focused on something other than that wretched business card.

  The night started out smoothly, and I’d settled at a blackjack table, waiting to see if anyone was counting cards without the dealer noticing. The players were all excited, and my blood was pumping with the thrill of gamblers. Knowing the downfalls of such a road, I could only feel sorry for them. Chances were they’d be walking out poorer than they’d come in.

  “Yeah, so I called him yesterday,” a young woman told her male friend at the table, laughing as they clinked glasses and the dealer flipped another card. “And he was like, ‘Who’s this?’”

  “No. You’re serious?” The guy seemed shocked and amused at the same time.

  Judging by the ache in the girl’s heart, though, the laughter was just for show.

  “Yeah.” She giggled. “He’d deleted my number. What a jerk, right?”

  “Absolutely! You’re much better off without him!”

  “Right? That’s what I thought.” She nodded, as if feeding off her friend’s encouragement. I could feel the hope inside her, that maybe tomorrow would hurt less than today.

  “Wade Crowley?” a waitress asked, as she stopped by our table.

  “Wait, what?” I replied, not sure I’d registered the question.

  “Wade Crowley. Five-five-five. Two-three-one-five. San Diego Coven,” the waitress said, eyebrows raised.

  I blinked several times, then looked around and laughed nervously. “Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said.”

  “Wade Crowley,” the brokenhearted girl repeated, frowning at me.

  “Five-five-five. Two-three-one-five,” the guy next to her added.

  “Have you lost your minds?” I croaked, unsure of what was going on, since they were looking at me as if I were the crazy one.

  “San Diego Coven,” added the dealer.

  “This is freaking me out, man,” I managed, jumping to my feet and stepping away from the table, as all the players, the dealer, and the waitress gawked at me.

  “Wade Crowley?” Malcolm came to my side, visibly concerned.

  What is this?

  Malcolm put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently, as if to calm me down. “Five-five-five. Two-three-one-five. San Diego Coven. Wade Crowley.”

  But the words coming out of his mouth had nothing to do with my panic attack. I was close to hyperventilating at this point, wheezing and breathing heavily as my heart kicked around in my chest.

  “Wade Crowley?” the waitress asked from behind.

  “Oh, for crap’s sake!” I blurted out, and took several steps back, as more people turned their heads to look at me. “Can you not hear yourselves?”

  “Wade Crowley. Five-five-five. Two-three-one-five. San Diego Coven. Wade Crowley,” Malcolm said gently, trying to come closer.

  “No way! I’m out of here!” I growled, then ran out of the casino.

  The nig
ht was chilly as I rushed straight across the parking lot to my car.

  “Wade Crowley?” a young man asked, as he passed by me and gave me a seductive wink.

  “Go to hell!” I shot back, and darted to my Daisy, my heels clicking frantically across the asphalt. I got in my car and turned the key in the ignition, my fingers trembling and slick with sweat.

  “This is too much,” I murmured, my eyes stinging with tears.

  The Mustang grumbled as its engine set it into motion, and I drove out into the main street, leaving skid marks behind. I flipped the radio switch on and turned the volume up, drowning in guitar riffs of alternative rock music. I needed all the noise I could get to drown out the echoes of what had just happened.

  My favorite song came on, but it sounded weird.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I breathed, as I realized that the lyrics were also reciting Wade Crowley’s name, phone number, and organization. “You son of a… That’s my favorite song, and you freakin’ ruined it!” I shouted, then turned the radio off.

  I ran a red light but didn’t get stopped by any traffic cops on my way home. Like I even care, at this point.

  What were my options? Clearly, Wade’s reach was far wider than I’d initially thought. His powers were… fearsome, to say the least. I mean, if he could do all that with just a business card, what were the odds that I could keep living in San Diego, undisturbed?

  Judging by the last few days, obviously zero. I had two choices, from what I could tell. Call Wade, or get out of San Diego.

  When I got home, I threw all my stuff on the floor and took out my phone, jabbing my finger at the screen. With all the times I’d seen the business card, I’d memorized his number already. The line rang, and I did my best to keep a calm and composed voice. I couldn’t let Wade know he’d reached the edge of my patience. My honor demanded that I keep my cool.

  “Took you a while,” Wade said from the other end of the phone, his voice smooth and low.

  “What the hell are you trying to do?” I shouted.

  There goes my self-control…

  “I take it you got my message?” he replied dryly.

  I will kick him in the nuts, I swear.

  I took a deep breath, then closed my eyes for a couple of seconds. “More than once. You’re quite persistent,” I retorted.

  “Well, you’re stubborn,” he shot back. “Be here at noon, tomorrow.”

  “Wait, be where at—”

  He hung up on me. I exhaled, lingering somewhere between a fit of rage and a bout of hysterical laughter. He was deliberately messing with me, and I’d already given him too much satisfaction.

  “Fine.” I shook my head slowly. “I’ll come see you, then. But where?”

  The guy was so arrogant and self-assured, he’d forgotten to give me an address. It wasn’t as if one could simply find the San Diego Coven on an online map. I’d already tried that.

  I tossed and turned throughout the night, barely catching a couple of hours’ worth of sleep, and as soon as I woke up, reality came back to smack me over the head.

  I sighed, then got out of bed, eager to hit the shower. Hopefully, Wade was going to call back with an address. Otherwise, I’d have to do the most unpleasant thing I could think of at the moment—call him again.

  Shivers rushed through me, and I shuddered as I walked toward the bathroom. I glanced down and yelped, jumping back a couple of feet.

  “You crazy… crazy… crazy jerk.”

  On the floor, at the foot of my bed, were spilled coffee beans, carefully arranged into a string of letters, big enough for me not to miss them. My shoulders dropped as I reached a rather unpleasant conclusion.

  There was no way out until I went to see Wade Crowley.

  The letters on the floor were clear, as far as my destination was concerned: Fleet Science Center.

  At least he gave me an address…

  Chapter Six

  A few hours later, still hopped up on caffeine and plenty of frustration, I drove up Park Boulevard to Fleet Science Center. I wasn’t sure what I was doing there just yet, but I figured I’d meet Wade somewhere inside, so I parked my Daisy out front, then went around the building.

  Balboa Park wasn’t all that busy at noon, with only a few parents and their kids out and about. It was a school day, after all. The circular fountain caught my eye, as water gushed out, its murmurs soothing my nerves.

  I walked through the main entrance and stopped by the reception desk, where two young ladies flashed me bright smiles, their name tags telling me everything I needed to know. Several school groups were touring the Center, the noise of children squealing and laughing prompting me to raise my voice to make sure Ellen and Jane could hear me behind their desks.

  “Hi. I’m here to see Wade Crowley,” I said, mirroring their sunny dispositions.

  Ellen nodded, then checked her computer screen, typing in Wade’s name. She frowned slightly, then looked up at me.

  “I’m sorry, there’s no one here by that name,” Ellen replied. “Are you here for the archive and library job openings?”

  “Um, no,” I said, blinking several times. “I, uh… He told me to meet him here. Sort of. Hold on.”

  I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket, suddenly feeling a little out of place as I noticed the plethora of crisp white school shirts and neat black jackets worn by the Science Center employees. My tight jeans and leather boots and jacket didn’t help me fit in much. I went through my call history and tapped on Wade’s number… which was disconnected.

  “Son of a…”

  My frustration was rearing its ugly head once more, and I stifled a curse to spare the nearby kids my foul mood, while Ellen and Jane offered a pair of awkward smiles in return.

  “You’re late.” Wade’s voice startled me.

  I turned around, then stilled at the sight of him, an inch too close for my comfort.

  “No, I’m not. You said noon,” I shot back.

  “You’re three days late.” He kept his calm demeanor, though his voice cut through me like a knife. It was his intention to make me feel guilty, and, though I’d never tell him, he was succeeding in making me regret delaying the visit. I could’ve avoided all the weirdness with his “magic tricks” had I simply called him the next day.

  Then again, hindsight was always 20/20.

  “I didn’t commit to anything, from what I remember,” I said, crossing my arms. I wasn’t going to give in, and, judging by his emotions echoing through me, he seemed to like that. The man was a walking contradiction, clearly.

  “You’ll learn soon enough what the rules are,” he replied. “Anyway, you’ll have to forgive Ellen and Jane—they’re both new here. The Center is going through a restructuring of sorts, and they’ve just joined our team.”

  He gave them a polite nod, and they both blushed and fluttered their eyelashes at him in response. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, by then well aware that Wade was eye candy to these girls. Ellen gasped, then covered her mouth with her hands.

  “I am so sorry,” she replied, as if suddenly remembering who he was. “You’re from the Archive and Library Department, aren’t you?”

  “Mm-hm,” Wade confirmed. “I’ll take it from here, ladies. Thanks.”

  He motioned for me to follow him. We left the reception desk and headed through the main hall. I glanced at the wall-mounted signs and, based on the right and left turns we took, we were walking toward Kid City, the museum area dedicated to children under the age of five.

  “So, what’s up with that weirdo card trick?” I asked, stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets.

  My gaze wandered around, occasionally settling on framed photographs of various space missions. The moon shots were particularly fascinating, dramatic black-and-white contrasts reminding me of how tiny we were, how insignificant our world was when compared to the rest of the universe.

  “I think it deserves a bit more appreciation than that,” Wade said. “It does require a cer
tain amount of skill to pull off.”

  “Is that how you get girls to come see you?”

  The sideways glance he gave me was a warning sign. Not that I took it seriously—after what he’d put me through, he was going to put up with this, and more. Wade Crowley wasn’t going to be the one to knock me down, and I sure as heck didn’t want him to even get the opportunity to try. It was what I’d learned to do whenever I was brought into a new foster home with more than one kid already on the premises—you acted tough; you held your ground; you showed them you couldn’t be intimidated.

  Otherwise, they trampled you worse than a herd of panicked elephants.

  “What am I doing here, Wade?” I asked, noticing the Kid City sign ahead, in big, colorful letters, just above the entrance.

  “I thought I made that perfectly clear the other night,” he replied, looking ahead. “You’re a witch. And the coven wants to meet you.”

  “In Kid City?”

  The room was built to resemble an actual city, with building cutouts and a pretend road stickered onto the floor. There were plenty of kids crawling around, too. I counted at least three who seemed to enjoy chewing on the plastic scenery. The others were busy running around and giggling, playing with huge toy blocks and riding the red fire truck on the side of the road.

  I could tell Wade was a bit embarrassed as we followed the cute little highway, dodging rogue toddlers while the parents watched from the sides. Before I could further tease him about his presence here, all the childish emotions from Kid City rammed into me with unexpected force.

  All of a sudden, I was five kinds of excited, but also amused and angry. I glanced over my shoulder and noticed two kids fighting over a seat at one of the computers. They both wanted to play and had little respect for the wait-your-turn policy. I felt it all, and it was a little too much. Children were way more intense than adults. Their emotions were raw and amplified, often cutting my breath short.

  I started walking faster, and Wade noticed.

  “Don’t like kids much?” he asked, and stopped between “The Factory” and “The Supermarket.”