Pink clouds resembled cotton candy in the sky that brisk fall morning. Petrichor wafted in the air from last night's thunderstorm, and stray bits of debris and broken branches swept down the barren road.

Trees shed their golden and crimson leaves around him as Everett crossed the sidewalk downtown. Storefronts were turned into a festival spectacle that time of year with fake cobwebs draped over railings, twinkling strands of orange and purple lights cast soft glows over the buildings, and Jack-o Lanterns could be found almost everywhere shaped into all kinds of spooky faces.

A gust of wind stirred fallen leaves around him and nipped at his face. He tugged his brown robe with gold trim closer, brushing his fingers over his family's crest wrought into a pendant in a silvery shade with white antlers curved out from the top.

Everett couldn't stop thinking about his encounter with the vampire last night. Freckles. It was such a stupid nickname, but the way Kieran had said it made him blush like a moonstruck schoolboy. He raked a frustrated hand through his short, tousled burgundy hair, plucking out a crunchy leaf and tossing it aside.

As the library came into view, Everett dug into his robe's pocket for the key and climbed the concrete stairs to the entrance. Once he unlocked the door to step inside, a sinister sensation trickled across his gooseflesh-ridden arms. Something was wrong.

Burnt pumpkin pie mixed with sulfur wafted in the air, and Everett wrinkled his nose as he followed the unsavory stench. He disregarded the spellbooks piled up from the dropoff bin. Normally, he'd work on returns or find a cozy place to catch up on his reading, but he knew what that miasma meant. Black magic.

"Rowena?" Everett called out for the ghost as he raised his wand to illuminate the dimly lit library with silver embers. Could ghosts perform magic? He'd never questioned Rowena or any of the other ghosts that haunted the library about it, but he figured it wouldn't be possible to cast spells without a proper body. He thought about calling out the names of the other ghosts, but he deep within his unsettled heart it wasn't a ghost responsible for that black magic.

Everett marched onward with false confidence, maneuvering through the towering bookshelves with familiar ease before he found the source of the stench. Remnants of black magic hung in the air like small, faded thunderclouds.

Sudden movement on the opposite side of the bookcase made him freeze. He pressed his back tightly against the shelf, crouching low as he prepared a defensive spell, and awaited his attacker to strike. Thankfully, nobody popped out of the shadows to kill him.

Curiosity urged him to creep toward the bookcase and pluck a few spines out, giving Everett a glimpse of the other side. A pair of eyeballs stared back into his very soul, and a scream tore through his throat as he jolted away from the shelf.

Magical energy pulsed around his body with the defensive shield he conjured around him on instinct. Heartbeat throbbing against his chest, legs numbed with fear, Everett forced himself to tip-toe around the shelf. Nothing prepared him for the horrendous sight.

A bodiless head was perched on one of his rolling carts, turned to face the exact position he'd peeked through. Everett reeled back, clamping a hand over his mouth. It couldn't be real. Someone had to be playing a cruel prank on him, right? Despite how he tried to rationalize it, Everett knew that the head belonged to someone human.

"Everett!"

The young wizard whipped around and sent a spell of hellwind that knocked over the little display the kids created. Rowena's ghost appeared before him. Something troubling washed over her rigid face as she pointed toward the head.

"S-Someone brought my dead husband's head here!" Rowena exclaimed.

"Dead husband?" Everett asked with a frown. "Wait, are you saying someone unburied him and dropped his head off?"

"Well, he sure didn't roll it in here himself. He died over a month ago."

Everett side-eyed the head, struggling to calm his rapid-beating heart. How did someone break inside the library without triggering his barriers? Everett had sensed something was wrong when he had entered, but they hadn't shattered his magical barriers. More like, manipulated them to allow whoever broke in to enter.

"Did you see anything?" Everett questioned.

"No." Rowena shook her head. "I heard the door late in the night and figured it was you. That you'd forgotten something. When I came to the desk, I noticed one of your carts missing and went to find you. Instead, I stumbled across Richard's head." She bristled.

"Who would bring your dead husband's head here?" Everett cast a fretful glance behind him. "And where's the rest of him?"

Rowena raised a brow. "Good question. All I found was his damned head."

Everett moved behind the shelf where he'd discovered traces of black magic residue in the air. It was where the ungodly stench came from. Not a death curse, but something else sinister. Necromancy, perhaps? Had someone attempted to resurrect Richard and it went horribly wrong? That didn't explain how his head ended up in the library.

With his wand drawn, he chanted a spell and let it hover over the particles in the air. A trick his grandmother had taught him. Embers of gunmetal gray glistened. If it were a death curse, it would've turned black and necromancy tended to be a dark green shade. So, what kind of black magic had the intruder used?

"Strange." Everett tilted his head as he considered what it could be.

"What did you find?" Rowana hovered beside him.

"I'm not sure. Hold on." Everett moved behind his desk to grab his spellbook. He flipped a few pages, skimming through black magic spells, mouth falling agape. "Oh my."

"What is it?" Rowena asked.

"A cursed item would leave that kind of residue," Everett replied with a tremor in his voice. "I think someone left your dead husband's head here to curse me or the library. I've got to inform the council about this." He sprung from behind the desk and made his way back outside.

Panic pulsed through his very soul as the wind nipped at his flushed face. With a trembling hand, he raised his wand up high and sent a black smoke signal into the air to alert the Supernatural Council authorities of his discovery.

Seconds ticked away like hours as he checked his pocket watch, hoping they wouldn't dawdle. However, a blur of black in the sky caught Everett's eye as it neared him and the bat's familiar features came into view. It morphed into a humanoid creature, gradually returning Kieran's chiseled face and ghostly pale complexion as he returned to his human form.

Crimson eyes pierced through him as Kieran flanked to his side. Concern etched in his frown. "What happened? Are you all right? Your heart sounds like it'll beat out of your chest."

Color tinted Everett's cheeks as he shook his head. "No, I found a... head."

Kieran blinked. "Pardon?"

"A dead man's head." Everett gestured behind him. "It's on a rolling cart, hidden in between the bookcases."

"That's interesting." Kieran craned his neck, peering inside the library. "Can I see it?"

Everett folded his arms across his chest "I guess. But I'm not sure you want to be here when the Supernatural Council arrives. You know they're not quite fond of vampires around here."

"I'm a licensed investigator for the Sanguine Council overseas, but I understand your concerns." Kieran waved a hand over his face, using his glamor magic to conceal his crimson eyes and pointy ears. "Do you think someone did this because I agreed to help you and Rowena look into her death?"

"I don't know, but please, don't tell her that. We'll never hear the end of it." Everett turned back around, dragging his unsteady legs back inside to lead the vampire to the dead man's head.

Once at the rolling cart, Kieran crouched down and examined it closer. He sniffed at it, reminding Everett of a bloodhound as he did so.

"Your wizards remove the blood from the bodies they bury, right?" Kieran asked.

Everett nodded. "Of course. To ensure the devil doesn't try to steal them."

"Mmh, but this head still has faint traces of blood inside it and something else. Magic, maybe?" Kieran suggested.

"I think it's a cursed item," Everett replied, noticing the perplexed frown on the other man's face. "Wizards can curse an item with black magic, using their own blood to seal it up. This head was delivered for me. A warning, maybe. Cursed objects work in mysterious ways, so it's possible whoever left this has cursed the entire library or I need to touch the damned thing to activate it."

"What would happen if I touched it?" Kieran asked.

"I'm not sure, but you probably shouldn't tamper with evidence."

Kieran nodded. "Right. Good idea."

"You really should hide before they get here. Transform into a bat and we can stash you behind the library's desk," Everett suggested. "Even with your glamor magic, they'll be suspicious of where you came from."

"But I can help investigate." Kieran's expression soured.

"My mother will murder us both if she catches wind of you here." Everett didn't stammer, nor were their traces of amusement in his tone. "I'm serious. She'll hang you by your toenails and cut you from neck to groin to let the crows feast on your innards."

"What the hell, Everett?" Kieran cringed. "Fine. I'll do this, but only for your sake."

Not long after he got Kieran situated behind the desk as a bat, senior councilman Orick Mandrake apparated outside the library with two of his detectives trailing close behind him. Everett stood in front of his desk, straightening his posture as he inhaled a sharp breath, hoping none of them detected Kieran's presence in the building. The strong amount of black magic that wafted in the air ought to conceal him well enough.

Orick adjusted his golden tie and cleared his voice with a throaty cough. "What's happened?"

"I found a head." Everett made a sweeping gesture with his hand, then led them toward the rows of bookcases. The dead man's head remained on his rolling cart. It almost looked like it was peeking through the spines, watching to see him enter the building. Everett shivered just imagining it.

"Is it real? Not a decoration or prank?" Orick crouched down to examine the pallid skin as he poked the cheek with his quill.

Rowena's ghost appeared at the opposite end of the bookshelf. "That's my dead husband's head. I could never forget it."

Orick raised a brow. "Huh, interesting. When did your husband die?" He narrowed his beady eyes at the ghost.

"Last month," Rowena replied.

"Probably a case of necromancy gone wrong." Orick got back to his feet and brushed his trousers. "Get that head out of here." He instructed his detectives. "We'll deliver it to the morgue. Honestly, Everett, this is probably someone's sick idea of a joke or a scare for Rowena. I'll be sure to let both your grandmother and mother know about it when I get back to the office."

"All right, thank you."

The moment the detective lifted Richard's severed head from the rolling cart, Everett's amulet glowed. Magical energy pulsed around him as it softly vibrated around his neck. Brows furrowed, he examined the crimson amulet with intrigue as the detectives carried the head toward the door, not even sparing him a glance when a sharp pain lanced through Everett's chest.

Everett staggered on his feet, then reached out for a bookshelf to steady himself. Pain gnawed at him like parasites trying to wriggle out of his flesh. Gods, what the hell was happening?

A blinding flash of white struck his vision. His consciousness swayed as the room spun, hazing to darker shades as he struggled not to faint. A strangled cry escaped his parted lips and the amulet around his neck glowed bright red as he passed out on the library's floor.