Page 65 of Vengefully Matched

“You don’t think it was me?”

“Well, I’m fairly certain that you would never prank someone with something so pedestrian as Jell-O.”

“Jell-O? Really?” She tapped the steering wheel. The idea of it was ludicrous.

“My point exactly.”

“So, someone stole something and tried to frame me.”

“Exactly.”

“How bad is it?” Priscilla needed to think about how someone might possibly be able to pin this on her.

“Bad. The elixir is rare. The rarest.” Agatha paused and heaved a sigh that Priscilla could hear over the line. “It’s gone. Someone took it, and if anyone finds out now, well, with the timing of the prank, it looks like it’s you. I know it’s not, but the optics, Priscilla.”

“Dammit, Agatha, just say it.” It had to be bad if the trust of the Witchery Council president wasn’t enough to at least cast a shadow of reasonable doubt.

“The elixir from the Fountain of Youth. It’s all gone. Not just enough for the chainsaws. Someone must have drunk it.”

Realization hit her over the head, and she cursed herself, again, for not seeing what was right in front of her. “The chainsaws were a test.”

“They must have been sprinkled with it, but it’s all gone. Someone is immortal.”

“It’s not me.” Priscilla was aghast. She’d read Tuck Everlasting as a child; she wouldn’t ever want to be immortal. Foolish business, truly. Clearly, Hildebrand von Auden had known that well enough to die with the cursed thing in his collection. Though he could have stood to secure it and warn inheritors of his estate a bit better.

“I know that,” said Agatha softly. “But the only way to really prove it…”

“Oh, fuck, it’s going to be a modern witch trial. Dead if she sinks and a witch if she swims. You could prove it by killing me and watching me actually die.”

“Yeah, so, obviously we won’t be doing that.”

“Pray tell, then, what will we be doing?”

“Not telling anyone about the theft until we can prove it wasn’t you.”

It was the most logical thing, hiding it, but she didn’t like it. The idea that the perpetrator could be the same one who was trying to kill Agatha. The idea that someone had set her up.

The even worse idea that whoever had set her up thought so little of her as to believe that she would ever in a million years prank someone with Jell-O.

“What do you need from me?” Priscilla ran a hand over her braid, racking her mind for ways to prove she was mortal without demonstrating the full extent of her mortality.

“We need to talk, and we need to do it somewhere private.”

Priscilla eyed the rental office across the paved street from Connie’s. “Can I call you back in five minutes?”

CHAPTER 22 Agatha

Of all the things she’d thought could have happened on this day, the day she woke up hungover, fucked herself senseless, and headed to work anyway, she had not suspected that she would discover an immortality plot, and then find herself in a hastily rented rustic cabin with Priscilla Hart.

“I know it’s not exactly what you pictured, and they do have more glamorously outfitted options, but this was the only one that was available right away,” Prissy said, ushering her in. “Honey, we’re home,” she said, smirking.

It was a one-room affair with a wood-burning stove and two sets of bunk beds against the wall, but there was a hard wooden table with drawers and chairs on either side of it, built into the wall of the cabin like the bunks, none of it movable.

“Guess they were dedicated to this specific floor plan,” she said, nodding to the attached furniture and pulling back the chair to sit down. Priscilla took the chair next to her. She had shut the door and snapped to lock it securely, ensuring they were completely alone.

“We need to figure it out quickly, before someone formally accuses you. Even without the news of the missing elixir, tensions are running high, and it’s coming. I think this”—Agatha gestured between the two of them—“will stop people from jumping in right away, but it’s coming. And if we wait too long, we also run the risk of people thinking we are working together to bring down the whole Council.”

“Shit,” said Priscilla, and as though to emphasize the point, the sound of shattering glass made her jump as several clear, sharp panes flew through the window, and then began to assemble themselves together. The enormous translucent shards formed into something taller and wider than she was.