Southern Belles and Spells Matchmaker Mysteries

by Amy Boyles

  His voice came out like cold steel. He was angry. I had pushed Thorne enough for one night, so I was willing to submit.

  My mother, however, was not. Surprise, surprise.

  “I am not leaving,” Mama said in her most commanding voice. “I can tell by looking at that woman that she is under some sort of curse.”

  Thorne shot her a skeptical look. “You can tell by her appearance.”

  Mama clapped her hands, and the electricity in the cabin flared to life, shooing away the darkness.

  “Of course I can tell.” Mama knelt beside Reese. “See the dark marks under her eyes? Blood vessels popped there. A sure sign of a curse.”

  She lifted Reese by the wrist and inspected her skin. “And it’s very hard to see, but there’s a light film on her. Another sign.”

  Thorne cocked a brow. “Where?”

  “Right here.”

  She pointed and Thorne looked. He scrubbed a palm down his chin as if to say he’d given up arguing with my family. I mean, why bother? We Calhoun women were persistent.

  “What else?” he growled.

  “Let me see.” Mama ran her fingers over Reese’s face and stopped at her ears. “She’s listening to us. I can tell by the current of magic here. But she can’t communicate.”

  “Ever heard of a coma?” Thorne spat.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Of course I have, but this is different. This is magical. The magical currents that naturally run over her body have been disrupted. That’s how you can tell it’s a curse.”

  He quirked a skeptical eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Take Charming, for instance,” Mama started.

  “Let’s not,” I murmured. I despised being Mama’s guinea pig for explanations.

  But Mama ignored me. “Before Charming arrived here, her magical currents were, shall we say, weak.”

  “Thank you,” I muttered.

  She continued. “The currents weren’t even particularly linear in the way that a powerful witch like myself would be. My currents are all strong and running in the correct patterns of lines and swirls. Charming’s—of course you can’t see them—but hers were knotted and many of them didn’t exist at all, which was why her power was incredibly limited.”

  My face burned bright and hot. For goodness’ sake, did my mother live to embarrass me? Did every parent live to embarrass their children?

  I felt Thorne’s gaze on me. Little prickles of energy that needled at my face and throat. I wanted to die.

  “Of course now Charming’s currents are changing,” Mama said.

  “Why’s that?” Thorne asked, not missing a beat.

  No way was I going to get that personal with him. I had no intention of Thorne Blackwood finding out anything about the prophecy.

  Period.

  “Shouldn’t we focus on Reese?” I said. “This isn’t about me.”

  Mama flicked her wrist in dismissal. “Anyway, my point is that this woman has been cursed.” She pointed at Reese. “And until we discover the type of curse, there’s no point in taking her to a hospital. That won’t do her any good. She’ll remain in a coma-like state until we break it. Nothing a medical doctor can do will help.”

  “What are you saying?” Thorne said.

  “I’m saying you need me, Mr. Blackwood, to help you figure out what sort of curse has been put on this young woman. You need me to investigate, along with the help of my aunt and daughter.”

  My eyes widened. I was a matchmaker, not a professional witch like my mother. Besides, if I was helping, that meant I’d have to be around Thorne more, and we didn’t exactly get along.

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Thorne replied.

  “And why not?” my mother said stiffly. “Your entire fleet of officers are vampires, not witches. This was a spell cast by a witch.” She folded her arms and glared at him. “What exactly will they be able to do to help break this curse? Hiss at it?”

  Thorne bristled. “My officers don’t hiss.”

  “Of course they don’t,” Rose said, smiling. “But they do bite, we all know that. Unless your officers are toothless vampires, and I’m pretty sure they’re not. Besides, how would they eat if they were toothless?”

  Thorne raised his hand, gesturing for her to stop talking. I gnawed my lower lip to keep from laughing.

  “So then what do you propose we do, exactly? We’ve got a cursed woman who’s alive and one who’s dead.”

  My mother shrugged. “First you need to figure out why the dead woman cursed this one. We go from there.”

  Thorne scowled. “What makes you think the dead woman cursed her?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I said.

  “Not to me,” he answered.

  “Because she took her place,” I said, exasperated. “Why would she have taken Reese’s place and cursed Reese?”

  Thorne shook his head. I could tell he was more than slightly irritated with us. “Why don’t you let me do the police work? As for Reese here, I want a second opinion. I thank you ladies, but good night. Leave the door open behind you.”

  “But—” I started to protest, but the dark look he flashed me could’ve singed my arm hairs.

  I slowly backed away, motioning for my mother and Rose to do the same. Rose tugged on Pig, and she followed as well.

  When we were down the hall, my mother smirked. “Don’t worry, he’ll be calling.”

  “I doubt it,” Thorne shot back.

  “Stupid vampire hearing,” I murmured.

  “I heard that too,” he said.

  By the time we left the train station, the place was swarming with vampire policemen. To be honest, I was glad to be gone, but my stomach was in knots. I had to help Reese. I just had to.

  My mother seemed to sense my despair. She wrapped an arm around me. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this whole thing out.”

  “Good, because right now I feel like this is all my fault.” My face crumpled. “I got Reese on that train. I’m the one who brought her here.”

  I gritted my teeth. “First things first—I need to know who that woman was. And tomorrow I plan to find out.”

  The next morning my bedroom woke me up by depositing a tray filled with breakfast beside my bed.

  The floor sounded like it was splitting in two. Half asleep, I jerked awake and stared as the wooden floorboards parted and a silver breakfast tray with legs was tossed up from below. The floor closed with a snap, and the tray settled on the floor with a clatter of silverware.

  I had a feeling my breakfast was thanks to Rose and the house. “Thank you,” I said to both the house and Rose.

  Rose’s voice rose through the vent. “You’re welcome.”

  I lifted the silver dome and chowed down on grits, bacon and eggs. When I was finished, I showered, dressed and exited my room to find Broom tapping its bristles against the floor.

  “What?” I said.

  The broom pointed its tip toward the door and then returned to its impatient tapping.

  I tugged on a shirt. “I don’t understand.”

  Broom tapped harder and pointed more forcefully. I frowned. “You want to come with me?”

  Broom bounced up and down.

  I sighed. “Okay, I guess you’ve been trapped in this house for a while now. Yes, you can ride with me.” I wagged a finger. “But no spanking. Not anyone. Do you understand?”

  Broom sort of nodded. The crook of its handle dipped into what I recognized as a nod, at least.

  “Come on.”

  I found Rose and Mama in the kitchen. Rose was cleaning up the kitchen, and Mama sat with a cup of coffee wedged between her hands.

  My mouth fell. “What happened to your hair?”

  My mother’s hair poked like bristles out from under a bright pink scarf.

  “Please don’t mention how my hair’s getting worse,” she said.

  I swallowed my next question, which was why, because Glinda Calhoun was not pleased. Rose shot me a look of warning, and I knew it wa
s best to keep my mouth shut.

  “So, today I’m going to figure out who that dead woman is because I’m pretty sure Thorne won’t be telling me, as he’s deliberately secretive about things.”

  Mama sipped her coffee. “I’ll be staying around here because I have the feeling your vampire friend will be paying a visit with Reese.”

  I smirked. “You think?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And I’ll stay around here as well,” Rose said, “because I never like to miss a chance to see that hunk of a vamp.” She fanned herself. “I get the good kind of willies just thinking about him.”

  The thought of my white-haired great-aunt getting any kind of willies wasn’t a thought I wanted to linger on.

  “Okay, I’m off.” I slipped my purse over my shoulder and raised my phone. “Call if you need anything.”

  I reached the mayor’s office a few minutes later. Most of the kudzu in town had receded, but a few vines still remained. One pesky leaf snapped at my ankle, trying to bite it.

  Broom batted the vine. The kudzu snapped at the broom but retreated into a bush.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Broom dipped slightly.

  A few minutes later I stood in front of the mayor.

  “Charming, I don’t have time to discuss matchmaking today. Witch’s Forge has a murder on its hands.” The mayor shook her head and slumped over her desk. “Can you imagine? We only just reopened to tourists and there’s a murder.”

  I sat in the chair across from her desk. “Mayor, with all due respect, I’m not here because I’m trying to matchmake anyone.”

  Which was good since I hadn’t even attempted to find anyone’s soul mate last night. I think the dancing with Thorne had thrown me off.

  “Then why are you here?” she asked, exasperated.

  “I want to know the name of the woman who was murdered and how she was murdered.”

  The mayor blanched. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that information.”

  I plastered on my biggest smile. “Come on, Mayor. I’m the one who told Thorne that she wasn’t Reese, so I know it wasn’t her. Plus, my family and I found Reese last night alive and on the Witch’s Forge Express.”

  Her jaw fell. “I didn’t know that.”

  I nodded. “I’m also the person who brought Reese here. It’s because of me she got on that train. I want to know who that woman was. Knowing her name might give me a clue as to what happened.”

  The mayor’s gaze shifted right and left. She ground her teeth and finally spat out, “I wish I could tell you, Charming, but I can’t. I’m sorry. My hands are tied until Thorne makes an official statement—which should be soon. But otherwise, I can’t help you.”

  Part of me wished I knew enough magic to convince the mayor to help me, but it was pointless. If Thorne discovered Winnifred Dixon had whispered behind his back, that would break their bond of trust.

  I had no choice but to look elsewhere.

  I thanked the mayor and left her office. Her new assistant, India, shot me a sympathetic look on my way out the door. My day may have started out looking grim, but I had a feeling my luck would change.

  And I knew just the place to go in order to find that change—Fire Town.

  Chapter 6

  A flock of cawing crows met me when I arrived at Fire Town. They stared through the windows of my Mini Cooper, their black eyes glittering.

  I hated crows with their strange intelligence and their sharp gaze. They gave me the willies, and not the good kind.

  Even Broom appeared to shiver under their watch.

  “I know; I feel the same way.”

  I parked and entered Crow’s Nest, where Blaire Fireclaw sold curing crystals and other witchy goods.

  The last time I’d visited the store it had been slow as death, but today Crow’s Nest was covered up, filled to bursting with tourists wanting to buy all things crafty.

  “Welcome!” Blaire’s chipper voice filtered from the front of the store. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Blaire’s red hair rose up from the cases and shelves of goods. I reached the counter just as she finished ringing up a married couple buying fertility powder.

  “Be sure you both drink it,” Blaire said, waving goodbye. “And good luck!”

  She turned to me, and realizing I wasn’t a regular customer, Blaire deflated onto the counter.

  “I’m so whipped,” she said.

  I smiled. “Business is booming.”

  She lifted her head an inch. “I’m not complaining. I refuse to do that. It’s just my feet are killing me.”

  I cocked a brow. “Isn’t there a spell for that?”

  She tossed her silky red hair over one shoulder. “My magic is still a little wonky from the years of Witch’s Forge being broken. It’s getting better, but it’s taking time. Anyway, it’s good to see you, Charming.”

  “It’s good to see you. You’re about the only woman in town who doesn’t run up to me and beg me to find their soul mate.”

  Blaire hooted with laughter. “You’ve already met Kimberly Peterson.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair. “I did and she is intent on finding any man she can.”

  Blaire pulled a tray out from under the counter. “Nothing ever changes. Want some pumpkin bread? I’m trying to perfect this recipe before fall arrives.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” I bit into a cube of soft, spongy bread. The spices were perfect—just enough nutmeg and cinnamon. I moaned with pleasure. “It’s amazing.”

  “Thank you.” She studied me, her green eyes twinkling with interest. “But I have a feeling you’re not here just to try my pumpkin bread.”

  I brushed crumbs from my lips. “I’m not. I was wondering if you knew of any new witches who would be coming to Fire Town for any reason—visiting or moving here.”

  Blaire tapped the side of her mouth and scrunched her face in thought. “I can’t say that I do, but in all honesty, I’m not the best person to ask.”

  I could practically feel my eyebrow curl in question. “Oh? Who would be the best person?”

  “The old witch May Little. She tends to know those things. In fact”—Blaire popped a piece of pumpkin bread in her mouth and covered her lips to speak—“she knows just about when any witch enters and leaves this town.”

  Sounds creepy. “Sounds intriguing.”

  Blaire caught the expression on my face that suggested it wasn’t intriguing at all. “It’s just something she does. She has a little bit of a seer in her.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “Up on Crow Mountain.”

  A shiver raced down my spine. I wasn’t crazy about all the crows that cawed at me when I arrived in Fire Town, so an entire mountain of them sounded intimidating, to say the least.

  I swallowed. “Are there a bunch of crows on the mountain?”

  Blaire winked. “How’d you ever guess? But don’t worry. They don’t bite.”

  I arrived at Crow Mountain about twenty minutes later. Technically the place was outside Witch’s Forge, up on a mountain, obviously.

  My Mini Cooper wound up the curving road until we reached the apex, where a ticket holder sold entrance passes to tourists.

  I did not understand why anyone would want to visit a bunch of crows, but after I paid my money and stepped through the gate, I began to understand the novelty.

  Folks held small silver cups a little bigger than thimbles. Crows landed on tourists’s arms and sipped from the cups before flying off.

  A woman stood at the far end of the entrance, her arms outstretched. Crows perched on her arms and shoulders. One even landed on her head.

  “The crow is one of the witch’s loyalest creatures,” she said. “You always hear about how the cat is the best familiar, but do not underestimate the power of the crow. This bird can fly and see for the witch. It can also help in spells and can communicate with other crows for a witch. So enjoy the birds, everyone, and if you have q
uestions, be sure to ask May. I’ll be happy to answer.”

  Lines deep as wires dug into her face. Her mouth cracked into a smile. “That is, if I can answer.”

  So I had found May. I passed a group of smiling tourists posing for pictures with crows and wove my way over to her.

  Her light blue eyes landed on me. They held a warmth that sent a jolt through my entire body. Her eyes glittered in a way that made me feel like May knew me—really knew me.

  It was disconcerting. Part of me wanted to talk to her, the other half of me wanted to run in the opposite direction. I felt like a child approaching a towering Santa Claus, terrified to tell him what I wanted for Christmas. But also knowing that unless I explained what I wanted, I wouldn’t have a cold chance in Hades of receiving it.

  I pushed down the knot lodged in my throat and approached. My voice caught as I said her name. “May Little?”

  She nodded. “I’m who you’re looking for, Matchmaker.”

  I smiled. “You’ve seen me working?”

  “I’ve seen you,” she said mysteriously. The crow perched on her head cawed down as if correcting me.

  I shoved an awkward smile up to my face. “How do you do?”

  “An interesting question coming from a witch on the cusp of receiving all the powers of the elements.”

  My heart jackhammered against my ribs. How could she know that? No one knew that except for my family.

  “I see things,” she explained. “I see them through the eyes of the crows. The birds see all. They are our best familiars as witches. But so few of us use them. It’s a shame, really. We stick to such simple animals as the cat. But the crow”—she stroked a bird on her shoulder—“they are as smart as elephants and as sneaky as a snake.”

  I curled and released my fingers, trying to distract myself from what this witch knew. My only purpose here was to find out about the witch who’d impersonated Reese.

  I needed a name.

  May pivoted toward the sea of crows. “Walk with me.”

  As if I had a choice. I took a few quick steps to keep up and wished I’d worn my sneakers instead of ballet flats. There was already a stone lodged in the toe.