Hemlocked and Loaded

by Annabel Chase

  Hemlocked and Loaded

  Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery, Book 9

  Annabel Chase

  Red Palm Press LLC

  Hemlocked and Loaded

  A Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery, Book 9

  By Annabel Chase

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  Copyright © 2017 Red Palm Press LLC

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Alchemy

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Thank You For Reading

  Chapter 1

  “So sparkly," Begonia said. Her pert face was mere inches from my ring finger.

  “It’s the way the light’s hitting it,” I said. The classroom of the ASS Academy was bathed in sunlight this morning.

  “It could also be the fact that it’s huge and perfectly formed,” Begonia teased. “Did Daniel buy this from Deacon?” Deacon was a dwarf that owned Deacon’s Stones, the most popular jewelry store in Spellbound.

  "Yes, but we chose it together," I said. "We want this marriage to be a true partnership, so we’re trying to make as many joint decisions as possible."

  Millie eyed me suspiciously. "And does that include decisions about the wedding?"

  "Absolutely," I said. "This is not going to be a repeat of the Elsa spectacle.” Elsa Knightsbridge, fairy and daughter of the ousted mayor, used a potion to convince Daniel he was in love with her. Thankfully, I was able to stop the elaborate wedding and break her hold on Daniel before the final vows were spoken. I still relived that moment in my nightmares. What if I’d stood there quietly and lost him forever?

  Sophie took a turn admiring the ring. “There’s zero chance of an Elsa repeat. For one thing, Daniel actually loves you. No love potion required."

  “Is this the part where we kiss the ring and promise to do whatever you say?” Millie asked.

  I laughed. “I’m not the Godfather.” I stroked the diamond with my finger. “But I have decided to refer to it as ‘my precious.’”

  Millie rolled her eyes. “You’re an odd duck.”

  I flashed a smile. “You’re just figuring this out now?”

  Lady Weatherby swept into the classroom with her usual regal air. "And what has captured our attention this morning?" She came to peer over my shoulder. “Ah, I see. I heard the news, but wasn't sure whether to believe it. I suppose congratulations are in order."

  Suppose? Of course they were!

  “It's true," I said. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face even if I wanted to. I was far too happy. The positive energy whirling inside me refused to be contained. "Daniel and I are getting married."

  Lady Weatherby's lips formed a tight smile. "The coven wishes you every happiness, Miss Hart. Daniel Starr would not be my choice of husband, of course, but, as they say, there’s a ladle for every cauldron. Now, let's get on with our lesson for the day. That is the reason we’re gathered here, after all."

  Only Lady Weatherby could manage to insult me in the midst of her congratulations. As usual, I took it in stride. I was filled with far too much joy to let a backhanded compliment level me.

  The remedial witches settled into their respective chairs as Lady Weatherby took her place at the head of the classroom. "Today's lesson will cover basic wards.”

  “Ooh, that’s a good one,” I said, thinking of my office. Someone had recently snuck in and killed a beloved plant. Althea was chomping at the bit to uncover the culprit.

  Lady Weatherby gave me a withering glance. “So glad you approve, Miss Hart.”

  “Excuse me, Lady Weatherby," Millie interjected, raising her hand.

  "Yes, Millie?"

  “Before we start, would you mind updating us on the curse?” she asked. "We haven't heard anything about the coven’s progress in breaking it since Emma brought back the horn."

  Recently, the remedial witches had discovered an old parchment that suggested there was a way to break the curse of the enchantress. A unicorn horn seemed to be a necessary ingredient. I’d used one of the spells on the parchment to summon a sacred unicorn and retrieve its horn. Since then, the coven had been hard at work trying to finish the spell that previous witches had started.

  "The coven has its best witches and wizards working on it," Lady Weatherby said vaguely.

  “Is that like Prince Humperdinck sending his four fastest ships?” I queried.

  The head of the coven gave me a blank look.

  Millie groaned. “It’s a Princess Bride reference. A human world thing.”

  Lady Weatherby made a dismissive sound.

  “It can’t be the coven’s best witches," Begonia said. "You don't have Laurel working on it, and she was the one who discovered the parchment in the first place.”

  Lady Weatherby hesitated. "With all due respect, witches, this is the remedial class. The name itself suggests that none of you is the best at any form of witchcraft, eager though you may be."

  Ouch. That had to be the harshest thing Lady Weatherby ever said to us. As the head of the coven, though, she was well within her rights to decide which members she deemed worthy of this Very Important Project. Since the entire fate of the town rested on it, I didn’t blame her for being selective.

  Millie folded her arms and jutted out her chin, a stubborn look I recognized well by now. "With all due respect to you, Lady Weatherby, that's plain offensive. We have proven ourselves time and time again to this coven. Just because we don't tick the right academic boxes doesn't mean we aren't competent witches."

  Everyone gaped at Millie. No one openly defied Lady Weatherby, except maybe her mother. And Agnes was safely stowed away in the Spellbound Care Home so opportunities for public humiliation were limited.

  To her credit, Lady Weatherby showed great restraint in her response to Millie. "While I agree that you have each shown a certain level of competence outside of this classroom, what we require for this particular project is far more than competence. Surely you can understand that."

  No one argued. The silence seemed to give Lady Weatherby pause. "Upon reflection, I think you make an excellent point, Millie." Her gaze rested on Laurel. "Why don't you join our next meeting, Laurel? I suppose there isn't much harm you can do."

  Laurel beamed with pride. As the youngest of the remedial witches, Laurel showed great promise. "It would be an honor, Lady Weatherby."

  Millie sat stony-faced, her hands clasped on the table. She was stewing, I knew it. She intended for all of us to be involved, not just Laurel. Between my engagement and Laurel’s selection, we were going to have a hard time boosting Millie's ego this week. Still, it was worth the effort. There was a strong heart beating inside Millie's chest, even though she didn't always show it. I’d glimpsed it often e
nough to be certain of its existence.

  “If we’re finished with our little detour, let’s move on to wards.” Lady Weatherby unhooked her cloak and set it on the back of the chair. “Wards can protect our property, or simply an item of value to us. The consequences for breaching a ward might be benign, such as merely alerting the owner to the breach, or it can yield more drastic results, such as mind-numbing pain to the trespasser.”

  My head hurt thinking about it. I wouldn’t want to inflict pain like that without good reason. I raised my hand. “What if the breach was accidental? Then you’ve caused pain to an innocent paranormal.”

  Lady Weatherby looked down her aquiline nose at me. “Then the paranormal will have learned a valuable lesson, will she not?”

  My throat tightened. Note to self: steer clear of Lady Weatherby’s house.

  “We shall begin with simple wards,” she continued. “For today’s lesson, I would like each of you to design a ward to protect your egg.”

  I stared blankly at the empty table in front of me. “What egg?”

  Lady Weatherby whipped out her wand and, quick as a flash, five eggs appeared on the table, one in front of each of us. “Now spread out in the room so you’re not on top of one another. You shall protect these eggs from harm to the best of your ability. Choose whatever ward you think is most appropriate.”

  I moved to the back of the classroom near the door and began to consider my warding options.

  From her spot at the table, Millie waved her hand in the air. “Lady Weatherby, are these eggs hardboiled?”

  The head of the coven narrowed her eyes. “No, Millie. They are not. Why? Were you planning to snack on one after class?”

  I suppressed a smile. A joke from Lady Weatherby! Would wonders never cease?

  We were given twenty minutes to prepare a ward, then it was time to share our work.

  “Now then, witches, are we all confident we’ve found a way to ward our eggs?” Lady Weatherby asked, and we all nodded. “Good. We’ll start with Millie’s ward. Sophie, why don’t you attempt to breach it?”

  Sophie shot a nervous glance at Millie. “You didn’t add any mind-numbing pain elements, did you?”

  Millie shook her head. “Although I easily could have. Wards are one of my strengths.”

  “I don’t know how you manage to keep track of them all,” Lady Weatherby said coolly. “You seem to have so many.”

  Millie didn’t seem to catch her facetious tone. Instead, she took it as a pat on the head and smiled proudly. Bless her.

  Sophie lifted a tentative hand toward Millie’s egg. A hissing sound filled the air and Sophie jerked back her hand with a muffled “ouch.” Sophie quickly stuffed her fingers in her mouth.

  “It’s just a magical current meant to zap you,” Millie said.

  “Well, it worked,” Sophie said.

  Lady Weatherby gave a satisfied nod. “Now yours, Sophie. Millie, you may try to retrieve her egg.”

  Millie decided to be clever and pointed her wand at the egg. “Don’t make me beg/release Sophie’s egg.” Her wand began to vibrate and then her arm, until her entire body shook. Her wand clattered to the floor.

  “Nicely done, Sophie,” Lady Weatherby said. “Miss Hart, why don’t you attempt to take Laurel’s egg?”

  I crossed the room to where Laurel’s egg rested on the table.

  “I’m not sure if Emma is the right one for mine,” Laurel said slowly.

  “Why should it matter?” Lady Weatherby asked.

  Laurel cringed. “Because I’ve set mine up to…”

  As I reached for the egg, a wave of nausea washed over me. There was no way to fight it.

  “…cause intense nausea,” Laurel finished.

  And, with those words, I promptly vomited all over the egg.

  Back at the secret lair, we let Millie grumble and grouse about Lady Weatherby's decision to include Laurel in the curse-breaking sessions.

  "I mean, we’ve all proven ourselves to be exceptional witches," Millie said. "I don't understand why she can't see that."

  "And exactly which coven members are working on it?" Sophie said. "That's what I’d like to know. Are there any specialists? Or is it just the usual suspects like Meg, Ginger, and Professor Holmes?”

  "I guess Laurel will be able to tell us after her first meeting," I said.

  Laurel nodded emphatically. "Consider me your inside source. I don't care if they swear me to secrecy. You know I'll tell you everything."

  Now there was a true friend. The thought led me to my next question. "So, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you."

  "Yes, we think you should marry him," Millie said, with an annoyed sigh. "Do you really need to rub our noses in it? You’ve found the perfect guy. A hot angel, no less. Why would you have any doubts?"

  I cleared my throat. "As it happens, I don't have any doubts, but thank you for your insightful commentary. What I want to ask is whether you’re all interested in being bridesmaids."

  The witches stopped what they were doing and stared at me.

  "Really?" Laurel asked. "Even me? Are you sure you don't want me to be a flower girl or something?"

  "You’re thirteen, not three," I said. "You’re an equal member of this group, and as much my friend as everyone else here. I'd be insulted if you weren't a bridesmaid."

  Laurel threw her arms around my neck. "You have no idea what it means to hear you say that." As the youngest of five kids in her family, I got the impression that Laurel often felt overlooked and inconsequential, despite her many talents. In our group, she had a place of importance, as everyone deserved.

  "Are you going to make us wear hideous dresses?" Millie asked. "That's what brides do, right? Because they want to look the best. They put all the pretty friends in ugly clothes."

  Begonia snorted. "I don't think Emma will have any trouble looking beautiful all on her own."

  "Thank you, Begonia," I said. "I promise I won’t make you wear hideous dresses. In fact, you can come with me to Ready-to-Were and Ricardo will help us all find the perfect dresses."

  "That sounds wonderful," Sophie said, clapping her hands. "I've never been a bridesmaid before. This is so exciting."

  "Where will you have it?" Millie asked. "The country club?"

  I hesitated. "I know it will sound odd to you, but Daniel and I have decided that we’d like the ceremony to take place at Swan Lake."

  Begonia’s blue eyes widened. "The same place he nearly married Elsa? Isn’t that…weird?”

  That was the response I expected. "We talked about it and decided that we didn't care. Swan Lake is where we met and it just feels right. Obviously, it will lack the drama that their almost-wedding had, since no one is being forced into marriage this time."

  Sophie gave my shoulders a squeeze. "I think it's very romantic. It will be a beautiful wedding, I'm sure of it."

  "Have you set the date?" Laurel asked. "Maybe if we manage to break this curse before then, you could actually go on a honeymoon."

  I hadn't even considered the possibility. And a honeymoon wouldn’t be the only option. I could go home, back to Lemon Grove, Pennsylvania. Not that there was anything there for me now. My whole life was right here in Spellbound, curse or no curse.

  "That's a lovely idea,” I said. "But let's not get our hopes up." I thought about my biological mother, whether she was still out there somewhere. If we did manage to break the curse ahead of the wedding, maybe I could find her. Maybe she could be here for my big day. The thought was almost too much to bear.

  "Emma?" Begonia said gently. "Are you okay?"

  I shook off the thoughts. "Yes, sorry. I got caught up thinking about everything there is to do. We've given ourselves six weeks. We figure that's enough time to get our ducks in a row."

  Begonia sighed dreamily. "Imagine that. Very shortly, you will be Mrs. Daniel Starr."

  I shook my head. "Nope. He will be Mr. Emma Hart."

  Millie's mouth dropped open. "You can't b
e serious."

  I laughed. "No, he’ll still be Daniel Starr and I’ll still be Emma Hart, and we’ll be married."

  "So which one of us is going to be your maid of honor?" Sophie asked.

  I knew this question was coming. Luckily, I’d given it much contemplation before now. "I think there’s one paranormal who was born for the role."

  Begonia’s nose wrinkled in concentration. “Really? Who's that?"

  I smiled. "Gareth, of course."

  Chapter 2

  Althea, my Gorgon assistant, sashayed into my office like she was ready to hit the dance floor. The first thing I noticed was the absence of her usual headscarf. Instead, she wore a white linen napkin cinched together with a safety pin.

  "Leave something at home today?" I asked and tapped my head.

  Althea glanced upward. "The girls and I had a bit of a disagreement this morning. They didn't like what I had to say, so they chewed through the headscarf I was wearing. My other one is in the laundry, so I made due with what I had. It’s clean, so don’t worry about that.”

  "You only have two headscarves?” It seemed to me she should have at least five.

  "I know," she said. "Silly, isn't it? I should borrow one from my sister, Amanda. She has an entire collection of them.”

  “Why don’t you have a collection?” I asked.

  Althea made a face. “I don’t collect anything. She likes hers with lots of decoration. I prefer the plain ones.”

  "Well, Amanda is more of a character," I said. The younger Gorgon made garden gnomes for a living. “Still, it’s probably safer to wear a headscarf with pumpkin designs than none at all.”

  “I’m not going to turn anybody to stone with a napkin,” she insisted. “They’re well covered. If worse comes to worse, I’ve got a spell in my dresser at home somewhere that Agnes created for me years ago. It’s only a temporary fix, but it would keep me from turning anyone to stone for a limited time.”