A Southern Charms Cozy Potluck Box Set

by Bella Falls

  “Finally. The right response to me. I know that you think Honeysuckle is a safe place as you skip to your grandmother’s house on a regular basis. But, dammit, you’re not Little Red Riding Hood, and this ain’t a fairy tale.” He glared at me like a predator, his eyes burning in the dark. “When are you gonna get that I am the big bad wolf, and eventually, I will hurt you. Go. Home.”

  Quick anger boiled my blood and adrenaline rushed through me. I burst forward and grabbed his arm, yanking as hard as I could to turn him to face me. “Fine. You don’t want me by your side, then let me ask you a couple of important questions. What are you doing fighting with them in the first place? Is this a shifter territory thing? And why are you just letting them go? I don’t think you pressed hard enough about why they were here in the first place.”

  Dash looked down at my hand grasping his bicep. He flexed once, making the muscle too big to hold on to, and my grip slipped. “First, I don’t have a territory. Nothing here that I care enough to protect from others.”

  His words stung, and I rubbed the spot over my heart. I thought I caught him wince as he watched me.

  “Second,” he continued, “I’ve known Trey most of my life. If there were something wrong, he would have told me there at the end. He’s promised to go, and that’s good enough. So, go home, Charli.”

  “No.” I stomped my foot.

  His eyebrow quirked up. “Did you just stomp your foot at me? Like a small child?”

  I stared him down. “I was expressing my unwillingness to be told what to do.”

  “Like a bratty little girl.” He sneered. “You are a head case. They should lock you up, not crazy old women. Whenever someone yells fire, you run straight into the flames. You have to stop putting yourself in the path of danger. And tonight, any number of times you could have gotten hurt. For the last time, go home, Charli.”

  “Stop telling me what to do. You’re not my alpha.” Hearing the words I uttered, I covered my mouth, horrified at the ammunition I’d launched at him. “Oh, Dash. I didn’t mean that.”

  He took a step away from me into a patch of darkness, hiding again. “No matter what you heard, you still know nothing,” he gritted.

  “Because you won’t tell me. No one keeps a secret as well and as long as you do. You give me glimpses in the sun only to dive into the shadows the second you open up.” I stepped forward, unwilling to give up on the hurting man. “Stop running. Explain to me what you think I heard, in your own words. Help me understand. Let me be here, supporting you.”

  Tension crackled between us. I left the choice up to him, either to let me ride with him as his partner or to leave me behind. When the silence stretched, I closed my eyes and repeated my desires to myself.

  Soft lips kissed the top of my head, and with a curse under his breath, Dash wrapped his strong arms around me. I breathed in his scent of sweat, blood, and him. His beard tickled the back of my neck as he squeezed me tighter.

  Too soon, he let me go, and I bit my lip, readying myself to break through his barriers once and for all. To be let in to see all of him—the good and the bad. When I searched his eyes for acceptance, all hope drained out of me.

  His hands dropped to his side, curling in and out of fists. “I’m no good for you, Charli.” His stern countenance softened for a second with sadness.

  With caution, I lifted my hand to his face and caressed his cheek. “Why don’t you let me make that decision?” My voice came out so soft that I couldn’t be sure he heard me.

  He closed his eyes, and for a brief moment, he nuzzled into my touch. “Because I’m the fire that burns down everything that matters and turns it into ashes.” With an aching sigh, he placed his hand over mine and removed it. “Go home, Charli.”

  I backed off with quick feet so he wouldn’t notice the tears pooling in my eyes. Turning, I walked away, knowing he watched every step I took. Counting on his superior shifter hearing, I stopped and shot one last bullet at him. “Dash, you know when you told me you would hurt me?”

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  “You just did.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I woke up in my bed, covered in my favorite quilt. The last thing I remembered was rocking on the porch alone. At some point, I must have fallen asleep, and someone had carried me upstairs. For now, I wallowed in my bad mood, replaying my failures like a broken record. Unable to face the bright new morning, I pulled the quilt over my head, wondering who had changed me out of my clothes and into a long T-shirt.

  A light knock on my bedroom door interrupted my dedicated boohoo bash. “Birdy. You still in bed? Get up. TJ has already made you breakfast and is out mucking stalls while your lazy bones sleep.” Matt waited for a response. When he didn’t get one, he rapped his knuckle on the wood a little harder. “Come on, Charli.”

  “Go away,” I managed with a voice as dry as a desert. Smacking my lips, I marveled at my dragon breath and how parched I was. Probably due to the dehydration from expelling all the water inside of me through my eyes last night.

  My brother switched to rapid pounding, beating an annoying rhythm. “I can do this all day,” he threatened.

  Throwing off my quilt, I pulled on a pair of shorts and switched out of the oversized shirt into a simple tank top. I yanked the door open and caught Matt off guard, about to knock again. “You stink like a pound of unicorn manure.” I narrowed my one open eye at him.

  He sniffed his shirt in jest. “I don’t think so. No unicorns out in the barn yet. Only horses, and TJ still won’t let me help her. Nice hair, by the way.” He reached out and messed it up even more. “Fix yourself up into somethin’ presentable and come downstairs, please. We need to talk.”

  I ran a brush through my hair and squirted toothpaste in my mouth, swishing it around to get rid of the stench, not caring enough to do more. When I finished in the bathroom, I plodded my way to the kitchen. My stomach rumbled at the feast waiting for me. If I couldn’t ignore the day and spend it under my quilt, I could eat my depression away. With messy scoops, I filled my plate.

  Matt poured both of us a cup of coffee, even taking the time to fix mine exactly how I liked it with a little sugar and milk. He sat across from me, sipping his on his drink and saying nothing. I ignored him, digging into the cheesy grits with crumbled bacon on top, mixing in a bite of scrambled eggs. My stomach remembered it was hungry, and I couldn’t get enough to eat, scarfing down all the savory contents of my plate.

  The back door opened, and Beau walked in. “Oh, excuse me. At this late hour, I didn’t expect to find anyone in here.”

  “Where’ve you been? Don’t tell me you were at the retirement home.” I regarded his guilty face. “You know you’re not supposed to go there.”

  My roommate joined us at the table, picking up a piece of bacon. He sniffed it first before eating it in two crunches. “Mm. I know we vampires don’t have to eat regular food, but there is something magical about the parts of a pig.”

  “Don’t change the subject. Where did you go last night?” Matt pressed.

  Beau glanced between my brother and me. “I visited the Widow Macintosh at her house after I got Charli here all tucked up in bed. Don’t worry. I haven’t been back to the home.”

  Matt switched his gaze to me. “Why did he have to help you up to bed?”

  “I think the bigger question is how in the world you can romance so many women, Beau,” I deflected, changing the focus.

  “I told you before, I understand loneliness. Not everything is about passion. It’s about knowing how to pay someone attention, making them feel important because they are.”

  “So you don’t do that vampire hypnotizing thing I’ve heard about?” Matt joked.

  Beau stood up in a huff. “I see I’m going to have to educate you in the same manner as your sister. Let me put it in a way the two of you can better understand. Do you consider yourselves brother and sister?”

  “Of course,” I answered.

  Matt spoke up at th
e same time, “Yes.”

  “And yet, you don’t share the same blood. You don’t have the same magical abilities, and I’m sure you have different strengths. It’s much the same with vampires. We are different beings with differing lives. Our abilities can be similar, but they can also be vastly distinct from one another.” He poofed into a bat and back again. “I can transform myself like that, but others cannot. Some can function at a higher acceleration than others, making them look like they have super speed, appearing here and there without being noticed.

  “I get it. I need to stop generalizing,” I said.

  Beau cut me off. “I’m not finished. The ability you’re talking about, holding another being in a vampire’s thrall, is not seen as an acceptable talent to use. It is extremely difficult for both the vampire and the subject. The vampire must stay close by to control whomever they have enthralled. And those poor souls…well, their stories don’t tend to end well. Add all of those factors up, and you piece together a problem for our kind. The threat of being discovered, hated, and hunted again.”

  Matt processed the information. “I may never look at Raif the same again.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about him. It’s not something he can do, plus, he’s too concerned about what others think to ruin his reputation.” My roommate stole another piece of bacon, his lesson finished.

  “So he wouldn’t try anything like that on the whole town, just to win the election, right?” I asked.

  Beau swallowed and shook his head. “No way. Raif may be…well, him. But he follows the rules to a fault. Okay, you two, I’m off to get some beauty sleep. Sorry I interrupted your meal.”

  I’d get on him later about his help in getting me to bed, and then give him explicit instructions to leave me in my clothes next time. The kitchen quieted down, and I got back to eating, deep in thought.

  My brother quietly drank his coffee, his breath the only thing I could hear besides the birds twittering in the magnolia tree outside. He didn’t utter a word when I snagged the last cinnamon roll off a plate in the middle of the table or dumped the rest of the bacon onto my plate. Annoyed, I chucked a strip at him, and it bounced off his forehead.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I cried.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “For what?”

  He picked up the bacon and shoved it in his mouth. “For you to tell me what’s been up your behind these past few days.”

  My defenses snapped to attention and my anxiety from everything that had happened—or not happened—in the past few days kicked in. Picking up my plate, I placed it in the sink with a clatter. “Tell TJ thanks for breakfast.” I hustled out of the kitchen, afraid of what might come next.

  “Birdy,” he yelled after me. “Frosted fairy wings, Charli, stop!”

  My foot hovered over the first step, my body coiled to sprint back upstairs. As much as I wanted to run and hide, I couldn’t. Not from Matt. We’d been through too much together for me not to recognize the hurt in his voice.

  He took my hand from the banister and held it in his. “Remember how Mom used to always know right when we needed a hug? Or how Dad produced ice cream out of nowhere to cheer us up? Now that I’m older, I know that it wasn’t because they had some sort of special magic or a crystal ball. It’s not hard to see when the ones you love are hurting. Talk to me, Birdy.”

  An empty sob burst out of me, but no tears came. Matt squeezed my hand three times, our family’s silent way of saying I love you, and pulled me into a quick hug. “Come on.”

  Leading me out onto the porch, he directed me to sit in a rocking chair and took the one beside me. The rhythmic creak of the chairs swaying calmed me down. My brother’s presence reminded me of the strength our family possessed.

  “When you came home the other night,” Matt started, “you looked like you wanted to tell me something. And then I went and ruined it by complaining about my own issues.”

  “You have a right to tell me you’re anxious. You’re going to be called Dad soon by your own little girl. Better start stocking up on the ice cream now.” I smiled for the first time this morning. Lifting my legs and hugging my knees into me, I folded in on myself in the chair. “Ah, Matty D. I think I’m broken.”

  My brother didn’t try to change my mind or tell me I was wrong. He waited for me to continue on my own, staring out onto the land in front of us, still rocking.

  All my worries about my magic and my fears of not having them anymore spilled out of me. I told him every detail, leaving out what had happened with Dash last night. One, I didn’t want my brother to have to act in a warden capacity with the shifter. And two, I couldn’t guarantee that Matt wouldn’t find him to hex his behind. Or kick it. Or both.

  “You know, Ms. Alma isn’t the only person to file a stolen item report with us at the station. There are at least six more complaints, and they aren’t all jewelry either. Come to think of it, Mimsy Blackwood pulled me aside after the debates and told me that she was worried because she couldn’t find her antique set of teaspoons in her buffet,” he observed.

  “That can’t be a coincidence, can it? I mean, six reports or maybe more, all filed at the same time.” I let go of my legs and gripped the arms of the chair. “Matt, could someone be breaking into people’s houses and stealing from them?”

  “As a warden, I’m trained not to rule out any possibility. But for each of these cases, there’s absolutely no sign of a break in.”

  “If my talents weren’t broken, then maybe I could have helped instead of failing,” I lamented.

  “Stop saying you failed. And you’re not broken. Maybe your ego is a little bruised, but I know you better than anybody. I’ve never known you to lie down and give up or hide under your quilt for long. And you know what Dad always said,” my brother needled me.

  “You only fail if you stop tryin’.” The old mantra rung in my ears. “You gonna tell your daughter that?”

  “If I can be half the father to her that Dad was for us, then I will be lucky.” Matt knocked on the wood of his rocker for good measure.

  “I’ve been meanin’ to ask, have you been by Nana’s recently?” I checked.

  “Yesterday. But she was running out the door, so I didn’t really get to talk to her. The election and everything that’s happened since it started is beginning to take its toll on her.”

  Matt didn’t have to tell me he was worried about our grandmother. I was, too, but saying that out loud to each other might mean that something was really wrong with her, and we couldn’t handle that.

  “The election,” I mused. “First Mrs. K’s outburst. Then her death. Finding her body in the library, which made Horatio look guilty as implied by Linsey in the Honeysuckle Holler. Add to that, people seem to be missing stuff that’s valuable to them.”

  “And to others. Some of the items could fetch a high price outside of our town,” my brother added.

  “Oh,” I exclaimed. “Mrs. K’s brooch. It’s missing, too. Mason wanted me to try finding it, but…you know.”

  Matt regarded me. “You were scared you might fail again.”

  In front of Mason, I added internally. I nodded at my brother. “I think it’s important that the piece of jewelry is found.”

  “You think the missing goods and Mrs. K’s death might be connected?” Matt looked off into the distance deep in thought. “It’s not a bad theory, but none of the people who have filed a report have anything to do with the election. And our former teacher’s death seems all about it. I don’t know if there’s enough evidence to support that speculation.”

  I held up my finger. “Yet. Give me a sec.” Jumping off the chair, I bounded upstairs and searched the pocket of the pants I was wearing the night before. Grabbing my desired item, I ran back to join my brother.

  “What’s that?” he stared at the device in my hand.

  “It’s a spell phone. Lee came up with the idea.”

  “I want one.” He reached out to take mine, and I slapped h
is hand away. Flipping the phone open, I selected the relevant name and pressed the green icon button.

  “Charli,” Mason said on the end of the line. “What can I do for you?”

  “Do you still have Mrs. Kettlefields’ stuff in your office?” I asked.

  “No.” He sounded interested. “But I can put my hands on it in mere minutes. Why?”

  I glanced at Matt who flashed a smile that definitely reminded me of Dad. “Because I’m going to find out where the brooch is.”

  “When can you get here?” The detective’s voice snapped into business mode.

  “I’ll hop on my bike as soon as we hang up.”

  “Good,” Mason replied, ending the call.

  Matt high-fived me and snatched the device from my other hand. “You want me to take you to the station instead?” he offered, already messing with the spell phone.

  “No. I’ve got this.” My churning gut didn’t agree with me one hundred percent, but I had to try.

  “If you need me, I’ll be there for you. But I’m pretty sure you won’t. You can do this, Birdy.” He tossed the phone back to me. “Tell Lee I’m next in line to get one of those.”

  Mason crossed the room, dragging the box of Mrs. K’s items across his desk in my direction. “No time like the present. Choose something and test things out. If your magic works, then you'll know it was a temporary glitch. Something you can examine later.”

  “If it doesn’t?” I put my fear right out in front of both of us.

  He squeezed my hand, holding it for a second longer than normal. “If it doesn't, then I’ll help you figure it out. Either way, I’m right here with you.”

  Doubt crept back in through the cracks in my emotional armor. What if I failed, and the man with the warm hand wrapped around mine stopped believing in me?

  Mason let me go. “Let’s not give you a chance to back out.” He popped the top off the box and took out items, placing them one by one in front of me. Her cloying scent still clung to each one.

  “Not the perfume.” I squeezed my nose shut with my fingers. “It took way too long to wash it off last time it got on my skin. No, I need to find something that’s personal to her. Something she valued.”