Charmed Offensive

by Annabel Chase

  “Ha! Nice try but thank you.” I entered the Mayor’s Mansion and nearly stepped right out of my flip-flops as I walked across the grand foyer.

  “Lucy is on the veranda, enjoying the sunshine,” Nichole said. “She asked for you to meet her out there.”

  “Oh, are we having lunch here?” Lucy hadn’t mentioned that possibility.

  “I think so,” Nichole said.

  We reached the back of the mansion and she threw open the double doors to the veranda.

  “Surprise! Welcome to your baby shower,” everyone yelled.

  My jaw unhinged. “Spell’s bells.”

  Lucy fluttered over and kissed my cheek. “Are you surprised? Please tell me you didn’t know.”

  “I had no clue.” My gaze swept over the veranda. Everywhere I looked I saw turquoise and gold. Familiar faces smiled back at me.

  “Told you I’d see you today,” Britta said.

  “And you almost ruined the surprise,” Astrid added.

  “This is why you couldn’t meet me between one and three?” I asked the sheriff.

  Astrid nodded. “Big plans.”

  I turned to Lucy. “Where on earth did you learn about baby showers?” After my bridal shower, I’d been careful not to mention the existence of baby showers.

  Lucy pressed her palms flat against each other. “How do you think, silly? We have the internet now. It's the most amazing invention, like magic. There’s a place called Pinterest that gives all sorts of ideas for parties. You should see the results on there for baby showers. I could hardly stop looking. My assistant had to shut down my access so that I would stop scrolling and get back to work.”

  Millie approached me, hugging a wrapped present to her chest. “I warned them about making it a surprise. It seems to me that a basic rule of thumb is never to surprise a pregnant woman, but did anyone listen? No.”

  “You're probably right, Millie,” I said. “Thankfully, the baby and I are unharmed.”

  Lucy escorted me further across the veranda. “I’ve organized all sorts of games.” She leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “Don't worry, I've rigged it so that you win everything.”

  I laughed. “Thank you, but that isn't really necessary.”

  Lucy extended her arm. “So how did I do? Does this look like a human baby shower?”

  “To be honest, I don't know. I've never actually been to one.” I imagined I would have just been reaching that stage of life when colleagues began to start families. My day trip to the Poconos changed all that for me, of course, not that I regretted it for a moment. If there was one thing I knew without a doubt, it was that ending up in Spellbound was the single best thing that ever happened to me.

  I noticed the harpies in the corner, waving at me. Darcy was dressed in a ruffled blouse with a pinstriped skirt. She looked both efficient and adorable.

  “I hate that Althea isn’t here,” I said.

  “Oh, she’d be complaining anyway,” Lucy said. “She’s probably secretly glad to be in prison right now.”

  I looked at her askance. “I seriously doubt that.”

  They plied me with food and drinks and I enjoyed a steady stream of congratulations.

  “Game time,” Lucy announced. She clapped her hands as though garnering the attention of a kindergarten classroom. “Now remember, these are friendly competitions. There are no winners or losers.” She burst out laughing. “Sorry, I couldn’t say that with a straight face.”

  The games involved a competition called Who Knows Mommy Best, Baby Bucket List, Find that Guest, and a hilarious game where every guest was given a small container with a tiny doll frozen inside. The first one to thaw the ice and free the baby wins. With a veranda full of magical creatures, it was a hoot to watch the different methods employed to melt the ice. Agnes won that game with one flick of her wand.

  “I told you I already had special dispensation for an off-site event,” Agnes said with a cackle.

  “You almost gave it away,” Millie told her.

  “I caught myself in time,” Agnes said. “One too many drinks and I’ll tell you where all the bodies are buried.”

  “I have a couple of designs for you to review,” Begonia told Agnes. She pulled a folded sheet of paper from her purse and presented the tattoo samples to the elderly witch.

  Agnes’s eyes flickered over the choices. “These are very nice. You actually put effort into this.”

  Begonia straightened. “Of course I did. Spilling Ink is my business. I take it very seriously.”

  Agnes tapped a purple and black butterfly on the paper. “That one.”

  “Do you want to see it in action first?” Begonia asked.

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Begonia placed her thumb on the image and said an incantation under her breath. Purple and black butterflies streaked off the page and filled the air like fluttering phantoms. Guests began to ooh and ah at the sight of them.

  “You should probably stop them,” I said.

  Begonia tried to cut off the production of butterflies, but they kept coming. “Spell’s bells,” she said. She whipped out her wand and performed a quick spell but to no avail. Butterflies flew over the food table and through the gift bags. Britta began jumping into the air to catch them.

  “Get them under control,” Millie said, swatting at a few near her face.

  “This was for your benefit,” Begonia said.

  “I didn’t say to mess it up,” Millie shot back.

  “You call those wings,” Phoebe snapped at one of the butterflies. “I’ll show you wings.”

  Crap on a stick.

  Agnes snatched the wand from Begonia’s shaking hand and said, “Butterflies far and near/time for you to disappear.”

  The phantom butterflies dissipated.

  Frustrated, Begonia ripped the paper into tiny pieces.

  “I guess I won’t be getting that one,” Agnes said. “Too bad. Seems like it would be a lot of fun.”

  Begonia offered a wan smile. “Still needs a few tweaks.”

  Lucy ushered me to a special throne where the gifts were stacked on an adjacent table.

  “Open mine first,” Agnes insisted. She thrust a gift bag into my hands.

  I pulled the light blue onesie out of the gift bag and read the print out loud. “I only cry when ugly people hold me.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Thank you, Agnes,” I said.

  “I hope you have multiple sets of earplugs,” the elderly witch said. “Be sure to keep a pair on each floor of the house so you’re never without.”

  “Do you really think the baby will cry that often?” I asked.

  “If yours is anything like Jacinda Ruth, you’ll have a perpetual headache for the first year.”

  Lucy slapped a present against my stomach. “I can’t wait for you to open mine.”

  I began to tear off the paper.

  “Carefully!” Lucy scolded me. “We need to save these pieces.”

  “For what?” I asked.

  Her brow creased. “I’m not sure. I think we’re supposed to make you a hat or something.”

  I made a point of removing the paper at the right spots and setting the pieces aside. I gulped when I saw the gift beneath the wrapping.

  “High heels for babies?” I said. In hot pink with bedazzled toes, no less.

  “Aren’t they amazing?” Lucy asked. Her wings fluttered with excitement. “I almost wish my feet were small enough to fit them.”

  “They’re stilettos,” Laurel said, her expression neutral. I could tell what she was thinking, though.

  “How awesome will your baby’s calves look in these?” Lucy said.

  “What if the baby’s a boy?” Laurel asked.

  Lucy shrugged. “His calves will looking awesome, too.”

  “Thank you, Lucy,” I said. “They’re very pretty.” I took another small gift off the table.

  “Demetrius helped me choose this one,” Begonia said, watching me expectantly.


  I opened the box and plucked out a pacifier disguised as a set of vampire fangs. “How adorable.”

  “The baby sucks on it and then to everyone else it looks like the baby has fangs.” Begonia laughed. “I can’t wait to see you use it.”

  “Why wait?” I asked and popped the pacifier into my mouth.

  “So unrealistic,” Dr. Hall said. “Those fangs aren’t nearly sharp enough.”

  I took out the pacifier. “Thanks goodness or the baby might hurt herself.”

  “Wait, it’s a girl?” Dr. Hall asked.

  “No, she’s been rotating ‘him’ and ‘her’ because she doesn’t want to say ‘it,’” Lucy explained.

  “Open mine now,” Dr. Hall said.

  I parted the tissue paper of her gift bag and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “Thank you, Dr. Hall. I don’t know that I’ll be drinking bourbon for a while.” Or ever.

  “It’s not for you,” the vampire said. “It’s to serve to me when I visit you.”

  “Oh.” I slipped the bottle back into the bag. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure to set it aside.”

  A low hum grabbed my attention and I plucked another gift bag off the table. “This one’s vibrating,” I said, and everyone laughed.

  “Get your depraved minds out of the gutter,” Lucy said. “It isn’t what you think.”

  I retrieved a pink object from the bag. It was shaped like a…well, I had no idea what it was shaped like. A computer mouse?

  “What kind of dildo is that?” Phoebe asked loudly.

  I turned off the vibrator. “It’s called a lactation massager.”

  “It’s for her boobs,” Lucy said. “It’s supposed to improve milk flow and relieve pain when she breastfeeds.”

  Dr. Hall recoiled. “You’re going to let someone drink from your breasts? That’s disgusting.”

  I smiled and placed the massager back in the bag. “Please tell me you see the irony of your statement.”

  The vampire wore a blank expression. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Relieve pain?” Millie asked. “It hurts?” She shuddered.

  “As it should,” Dr. Hall said. “There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain.”

  I waved my hand. “Okay, we’re talking about feeding my baby. Can we not blur the lines, please?”

  “My turn,” Phoebe said. She handed me a small box wrapped in…feathers?

  “Um.” I plucked a few feathers off the box. “Are these yours?”

  “It’s shedding season,” Phoebe said. “Waste not, want not!”

  I pulled enough feathers from the box so that I could read the print. “A bidet in a bottle?”

  “It’s to clean your nether regions that you can’t reach anymore,” Octavia boomed from across the room.

  I held the bottle at arm’s length. “Oh, uh…Thank you.”

  “I use mine all the time,” Phoebe said proudly.

  “But you’re not pregnant,” Lucy said.

  “No, but I like to be clean for my guests…at the inn.” Phoebe winked and everyone else winced.

  “This is a large bag,” I said, pulling it toward me.

  “It’s from Marisol and I,” Octavia said. “We didn’t want to join Phoebe’s gift.”

  “Gee, I wonder why,” Lucy murmured.

  I emptied the bag and a pillow dropped onto my lap—a pillow with fake hands protruding from the middle. I didn’t know what to say. “How comfy,” I choked out.

  “Is it a zombie pillow?” Britta asked. “That’s pretty cool.”

  “It’s not a zombie pillow,” Octavia snapped. “You lay the baby’s back against the hands and she thinks she’s cradled against her mother. It’s ingenuous.”

  “It’s creepy,” Lucy whispered.

  “They’re disembodied hands,” Britta said. “Who else would have those but a zombie?”

  “It’s not a zombie pillow,” Octavia said heatedly.

  I began to worry that the aging harpy would take on the Valkyrie in the middle of the baby shower.

  “I’m sure the baby won’t mind either way,” I said, because I had no intention of letting the pillow anywhere near my child.

  Britta used her toe to nudge a larger box closer to me. “This is from Astrid and me.”

  Astrid raised a hand. “I left this one up to Britta, as you’ll soon be able to tell.”

  Uh oh. That statement was ominous. I unwrapped the box, careful not to rip the paper. A brown toy was inside. “A teddy bear?” I lifted it into the air and was immediately struck by the odd shape and texture of the toy.

  “Yep, it’s a placenta bear,” Britta said.

  I dropped the bear back into the box. “A what?”

  “A teddy bear made out of placenta,” Britta said proudly, as though she’d supplied the placenta herself.

  I was speechless.

  “Placenta, as in the organ you produce when you give birth?” Millie asked, her expression mirroring the majority of guests in the room.

  “It’s sustainable,” Britta said. “Saving the environment is a big deal. I’ve been reading all about it.”

  I gently pushed the box away with my foot. “Thank you so much, both of you. I’ll keep it somewhere safe. Wouldn’t want Magpie to mistake it for one of his toys.”

  “Leave it on the kitchen windowsill,” Lucy whispered. “That hellbeast is always there.”

  I nodded wordlessly.

  “Time for cake,” Lucy announced. “You can thank Agnes. She baked it at the care home.”

  I froze. “You let Agnes bake the cake for my baby shower?”

  “Should I not have done that?” Lucy asked. “She seemed really eager.”

  “Have you seen it yet?”

  The fairy paled. “No, she said she wanted it to be a surprise.”

  I swallowed hard. “Okay then. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid.”

  Lucy snapped her fingers and her assistant wheeled in the cake. It was covered by a silver lid. Nichole parked the cake in front of me.

  “Where is Agnes?” I asked. There was no sign of the elderly witch.

  “She went to the restroom,” Octavia said. “Third time since we’ve been here.”

  “She probably has a bladder infection,” Phoebe added. “It’s common in older witches.”

  Millie bristled. “I don’t think it’s a condition restricted to witches.”

  Just then, Agnes reentered the room. She lit up when she spotted the cake. “Perfect timing. I’m starving.”

  “You’ve been eating nonstop since you got here,” Lucy said.

  “Yes, but now I’m starving for sugar,” Agnes said, “which this cake has plenty of.”

  “Who would like to cut the cake?” I asked. I knew better than to think I could do the slices justice.

  “I’ll do it,” Millie said, picking up the cake knife from the table. “I like perfect squares.”

  I lifted the lid and gasped at the sight of the cake. “Agnes, you made this?”

  The witch beamed with pride. “I had a lot of onlookers at the care home, as you can imagine, but no help with the actual baking.”

  “It’s shocking,” I said, staring at the cake.

  “I know,” Agnes said. “No one knows I can bake.”

  I didn’t mean her ability. I meant the cake itself. On the top of the cake was the image of a naked woman giving birth. Half a baby poked out from the anatomically correct body.

  “Congratulations Emma,” I read aloud, once I regained my composure.

  “Look, I made her hair the same color as yours,” Agnes said. She scooped off some of the dark icing and popped her finger into her mouth. “It’s chocolate.”

  “It’s a masterpiece,” Britta said. “You should consider setting up shop. Paranormals would pay good money for a cake like this.”

  No, they definitely would not, I thought, but didn’t dare say it.

  “Thank you so much for taking the time to bake a cake,” I said.

  “
What’s the big deal, child?” Agnes asked. “I have nothing but time in that place.”

  “I’m surprised they gave you access to the kitchen,” I said. The kitchenette in her room would’ve been too small and there was no oven.

  “I wouldn’t exactly say they gave me access,” Agnes admitted.

  I turned slowly to look at her. “What did you do, Agnes?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” She gestured to Millie. “Now cut the cake, witch. Off with her head.”

  Astrid tapped me on the shoulder. “I hate to miss the dessert.” She paused and glanced quickly at the cake. “Okay, maybe I don’t, but I need to cut out early. I just got a message that another garden’s been vandalized.”

  “Oh no! Which one?” I asked.

  “McTavish,” she replied.

  I dragged myself to my feet. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Emma, it’s your baby shower.”

  “And it’s nearly finished,” I said. “I’ve opened gifts. Played games. Seen a cake that will give me nightmares.” I turned to the guests. “Thank you so much, everyone. This was an amazing surprise. I’m touched that you’re all here to celebrate our baby.”

  Lucy fluttered over. “I’ll arrange for the gifts to be delivered to your house.”

  I hugged her. “Thanks. You’re the best.” I tripped as I entered the mansion from the veranda.

  Astrid looped her arm through mine to save me from falling. “You need to borrow your husband’s wings until this baby is born.”

  I laughed. “I don’t know which is would be worse for me right now. Flying or walking.”

  Nichole appeared behind us, cracking her knuckles. “I know I may not look strong, but I’m a werewolf. Why don’t I carry you to the sheriff’s vehicle?”

  Astrid and I exchanged glances. “There are a lot of steps between here and the jalopy,” Astrid said.

  I held up my arms like a toddler. “Go for it.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “He expected to win with this monstrosity?” Sheriff Astrid asked. The Valkyrie stood in front of Marty McTavish’s house, shaking her head. “It looks like a leprechaun graveyard.”

  “He is a big fan of green,” I said. It looked like St. Patrick’s Day vomited all over Marty’s garden.

  Astrid gestured to the bright green mulch. “That could easily be made from ground-up leprechauns.”