Hemlocked and Loaded

by Annabel Chase

  The gnome hurried forward to shake my hand. "Emma Hart, so good to see you. What brings you in here? Something new for your garden? I pass by many a time and remark to Myra what an improvement there's been since you moved in. Not so much of the gloom and doom that appealed to Gareth.”

  "Tell the conehead that not everyone needs a riot of color to feel cheerful," Gareth said, taking me by surprise.

  I whipped around at the sound of his voice. "What are you doing here?"

  Gareth spread his arms wide. “What do you think? I’ve been practicing. Apparently, the Enchanted Garden is one of the places I can access quite easily, not that I’m particularly interested in hanging around here.”

  Frank looked from me to the blank space, his face ashen. "Is Gareth here?”

  I folded my arms. "It seems I have a shadow."

  "You're the one who’s been pestering me to leave the house," Gareth said. "Now you're going to complain when I actually manage it? You’re as difficult as my Aunt Caitriona."

  "She can't be that difficult," I countered. "I've never once heard you complain about her. Goodness knows I’ve heard a thousand stories of your tough Scottish upbringing by now."

  "I heard the great news about your wedding," Frank said. "Daniel is a lucky angel as far as I'm concerned."

  My heart skipped a beat the way it always did when Daniel's name was mentioned. "I don't know about that,” I said. “I still pinch myself every morning when I wake up."

  Gareth nodded beside me. "She really does. I've seen her. Quite pathetic, to be honest.”

  I glared at him. "First of all, Frank can't hear you. Second of all, why are you watching me wake up? That's creepy."

  Gareth shrugged. "I get bored. You overestimate what a vampire ghost has to do in a town like Spellbound."

  "So back to business," Frank said. "If you're not looking for garden improvements, it must be something for your wedding.”

  I took an unexpected interest in all of the plants and flowers around me. I’d assumed we would get our arrangements from Petals like everyone else, but standing in the garden center, an idea began to form.

  "Now that you mention it, you have amazing stock here,” I said. “I’d love to be able to incorporate some of your inventory.”

  The little gnome rubbed his hands together eagerly. “I’ve always wanted to work on a wedding. Myra gets to participate in weddings all the time over at the church, but nobody ever thinks of the garden center."

  "I'll have to bring Daniel back with me one day to discuss ideas," I said, “but now I have this amazing vision for the lake."

  Frank's eyes rounded. "You want to have your wedding at Swan Lake?"

  "What can I say?" Gareth said. "She's a glutton for punishment."

  I attempted to elbow Gareth in the ribs, but my arm only met with air.

  "We’re reclaiming the location as ours," I said. “We share a special memory of that place, and we’re not going to let one bad moment ruin it."

  Frank grinned and I noticed a sparkle in his eyes. "I'm already seeing it. Floating flowers across the shimmering lake, all the way to the border."

  "We can choose flowers that complement the bridesmaid dresses," I said excitedly. "And have an arched trellis covered in ivy where Daniel and I recite our vows."

  Even Gareth joined in the vision. “Dust his wings with silver glitter for maximum impact.”

  “It’s a wedding, not a disco,” I said. "Frank, I have to tell you, you’re as good as any muse.” And I thought meeting with Haley was inspiring. Standing in the Enchanted Garden, the possibilities seemed endless. I became so entranced, I nearly forgot the reason I was here. Nearly, but not quite.

  "Frank, as much as I’d love to talk more about the wedding, there’s a more important matter that I need to address."

  Frank tipped back his hat. “More important than your wedding? Yes, of course. Whatever you need."

  “I’m not here to rat you out, but I have it on good authority that you may, on occasion, trade in illegal substances."

  Concern flashed in his beady eyes. I could tell he was debating whether to come clean or feign innocence. "I'm not sure exactly what you've been told, but I may have helped acquire certain difficult-to-obtain substances from time to time if a paranormal is in dire need. But I never do it for nefarious purposes."

  Beside me, Gareth made an impressed noise. "Nefarious, now there's a big word for a small gnome."

  I ignored him. "I promise I’m not here to get you in trouble, Frank, although I think you need to be more careful. I’m trying to track down where Seamus’s murderer may have acquired hemlock.”

  Frank balked. “Seamus died from hemlock poisoning?"

  I nodded. "That's what the autopsy report shows. To my knowledge, hemlock is pretty easy to identify. It's not likely to be confused with any other poison."

  "Not once it's ingested, no," Frank said. He bowed his head. "Poor Seamus. I knew the pixie a bit. He seemed like a decent fella. That's a fairly unpleasant way to go."

  "Yes, his neighbor was traumatized. He was the one who found him."

  Frank rubbed his auburn beard. "On the one hand, I wish I could help you. On the other hand, I'm happy to report I haven't supplied anyone with hemlock. Ever.”

  "Have you heard of anyone asking about hemlock?" A shot in the dark.

  Frank took a moment to consider the question, but eventually shook his head. "It’s the kind of thing I pay attention to as well. I’d certainly remember if someone was making inquiries about a lethal substance like that."

  So he was as plugged in to town gossip as his nosy wife. That didn't surprise me.

  "So are we done here?" Gareth asked.

  I gave him a sharp look. "What? Now you have better things to do?"

  Gareth offered a sheepish smile. "Now that I know I can come here, I want to give Ready-to-Were a try. That way I can be there for dress fittings. I’m already worried about decisions that have been made without me.”

  I shook my head. “Has anyone ever told you that you have control issues?”

  “That’s the cauldron calling the kettle black,” Gareth said.

  "Fine, but the dressing rooms are off limits.”

  “No worries there," Gareth said. “The only bum I want to see in the mirror is my own.”

  "There’s the blushing bride-to-be,” Myra said, bustling down the church aisle toward me. The gnome was uncharacteristically happy to see me. I had no doubt it was so that she could inspect the ring on my finger and pass along her first-hand knowledge. Myra was one of the premier gossips in town. She treated residents who used the confessional like gossip column informants.

  "Good evening, Myra," I said. "I take it your husband told you about the engagement.”

  The gnome nodded her chubby head. "I haven't seen Frank this excited since Amanda made a gnome in his image. You have no idea how long he’s been wanting to participate in a wedding. I've been telling him for years that he should open up to compete with Petals. There's no reason why that place should get every wedding in town. A little healthy competition is good for everyone.”

  "I think Frank's inventory will lend itself better to our vision for the wedding," I said. "I have nothing against Petals." The flower shop was perfect for basic needs, but now that I had a glimpse of what this wedding could be, I knew that Frank’s Enchanted Garden was the right decision.

  “I will say I was disappointed that Daniel decided not to hold the ceremony here,” Myra said. “After all, he is an angel.” She gestured to the stained glass windows and pews surrounding us. “This should be his house of worship.”

  Not since they booted him, I wanted to say. Instead, I said, “It’s a shame the church isn’t bigger. We’d like to include as many residents as possible.”

  Myra seemed to view the church through my eyes. “Yes, I guess our capacity is limited. Such a beautiful setting, though. It’s a shame to not take advantage of it.”

  It really was. There was an old church
not far from Lemon Grove that I used to admire from the outside as I drove past. It had enormous arched windows and dramatic spires. I felt an unexpected pang of longing for the familiar.

  “We’re fortunate to have a place like this in town,” I said. Even though I only came here for harp therapy, I knew it served as a refuge for many others.

  Myra patted the top edge of the pew. “It’s my home away from home.”

  The sound of harps from the basement signaled that I was officially late for harp therapy class.

  “I’ve got to run, but it was nice to see you, Myra," I said politely.

  "Of course, of course," Myra said. "You’d better get down there. You don't want to get stuck next to that horrid Phoebe Minor.”

  I didn't have the heart to tell her that I actually enjoyed the older harpy’s company. As long as her sharp tongue wasn’t directed at me, Phoebe was one of the most entertaining residents in Spellbound.

  I headed downstairs and was disappointed to see that the plates of brownies and other treats were already gone. One of the perks of harp therapy class was the delicious snacks at the start. Paisley, the witch from Mix-n-Match and the object of Britta’s affections, waved me over. She motioned to the empty seat beside her and I crept between the chairs to get there, not wanting to disturb anyone's rhythm.

  "Congratulations," Paisley whispered.

  "Thank you," I said, sliding into the seat. "I feel like everyone in town has congratulated me this week."

  “That's what happens when the most famous sorceress in town becomes engaged to the only fallen angel in town," she replied. "One of you alone would be a big deal. The two of you joining together…It's unprecedented."

  I suddenly felt like a celebrity power couple, like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, back when they were actually still together. There was a reason those marriages didn’t stand the test of time and I had a feeling public scrutiny was a big part of it. Thankfully, Spellbound was only a microcosm, far too small to interfere with the success of our marriage.

  “Here’s Emma,” Phoebe said loudly. “Probably late for some wedding-related reason. I bet you’re still bride-ing high, aren’t you?”

  “She is a bride-or-die chick,” Sheena added.

  Melvin tittered. “She’s fit to be bride.”

  "Okay, okay," I said. "You're all hilarious with your bridal puns. While we’re on the subject of my wedding, I have a very important question for all of you."

  "What's that?" Phoebe asked. "You need pointers for your wedding night? I'm sure I can offer you some tips. Daniel can thank me later." She gave me a wink.

  I cringed at the thought of getting sex advice from the older harpy. "Thank you, but no. Daniel and I have been discussing our musical options for the wedding, and we've decided that it would be nice to have harp music during the ceremony. I would love it if any or all of you would be willing to play for us.”

  A hush fell over the room. Finally, Phoebe spoke.

  "Are you ill?" she asked. She glanced helplessly around the church basement. “Is there any disease brought on by an engagement?”

  "No, of course not. I feel fine," I said.

  Phoebe pinned a cautious gaze on me. "You're not dying, are you? Because that would put a serious damper on your wedding."

  I laughed nervously. "Not to my knowledge. Why would you ask that?"

  "Because we’re terrible harpists," Sheena blurted. "We come here to eat sweets and gossip. Nobody is any good at the harp. You must be out of your mind."

  “Speak for yourself,” Melvin interjected.

  “You should get Look Mom, No Wings,” Britta said. “That band is awesome.”

  “They definitely are, Britta. I’ve seen them play at Moonshine and they are awesome, but I’m not talking about the reception. I’m talking about the ceremony at Swan Lake.”

  “You’d be better off releasing a bunch of doves and then strangling them,” Phoebe said. “The sound would be far more pleasant.”

  I smiled. “Phoebe, you vastly underestimate the talent of everyone here. I come because the music is relaxing. Okay, we get the occasional squeak or unwanted sound, but I think you’d all bring something special to our wedding. Trust me, Daniel never would have agreed to it if he thought you were rubbish."

  "Rubbish?" Phoebe echoed. "You've clearly been spending too much time with that grumpy Scottish vampire of yours.”

  "Kinda hard to avoid, given that he lives with me," I said.

  "How's that going to work once you’re married?" Britta asked. "Threesomes are cool and all, but I'm surprised Daniel would be down with that."

  Paisley shot the Valkyrie a curious look. “Threesomes are cool, are they?”

  “That’s what I’ve heard,” Britta said quickly. “From, you know, other paranormals who might have engaged in that sort of behavior.”

  My cheeks grew flushed. "I think it's important to remember that Gareth is a ghost."

  "Yes, but I've heard he's getting better at manifesting," Paisley said. "He's able to solidify his form, right?”

  "On occasion," I said, unsurprised by the rumors. "He still hasn't fully mastered the skill. He’s been working with Lyra Grey. He's made great progress, but he still has a way to go." In truth, I secretly hoped he’d be as solid as possible for the wedding. He’d already started practicing manifesting at Swan Lake so that he was sure he could attend. As long as we could see each other, we’d be content with that. I knew he was looking forward to the reception so he could dance with his vampire friends. Daniel and I needed to decide on a reception venue, mainly so that Gareth could practice showing up there.

  "Which songs would you like us to play at the wedding, Emma?" Melvin asked. "I think we should start preparing now. We don't have very long to perfect it."

  "I'm not looking for perfection," I said. "I'm just happy you all want to be there and participate in our special day."

  Phoebe groaned. "That sounds so lame. It's your wedding day. Do you know how lucky you are to have one of those? The harpies in my house would kill for the chance to have a perfect wedding. We’re going to practice until our fingers bleed.”

  The horrified looks on the other faces suggested otherwise.

  "No one's hands will be bleeding because of me," I insisted. "I mean it, Phoebe. I’m happy to have you all there. The more love that surrounds us, the more special it will be."

  Phoebe blew a raspberry. "If you say so."

  I flashed her a charming smile. "I say so."

  Chapter 9

  “Members of the coven, Miss Hart has kindly agreed to join us for this meeting," Lady Weatherby said. Her tone was so neutral, I couldn't decide whether she was annoyed or pleased that Janis Goodfellow had demanded my involvement. “The hope is that her role as a sorceress might offer us guidance in breaking the curse.”

  "It's about time," Meg said. "I've been suggesting your presence for weeks."

  I heard faint noises of approval, although Lady Weatherby appeared miffed by the comment. "And so your wish has been granted, Margaret. Had I believed Miss Hart would be of use to us, I certainly would have agreed to her inclusion sooner. The reality is, though, that she is only now beginning to scratch the surface of her abilities. I am not entirely convinced she will have any helpful insight at this juncture."

  So, basically, the head of the coven just called me useless. Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.

  “Thank you for including me,” I said. “I’ll do my best to help.” As I claimed the empty seat beside Laurel, I noticed Beatrice at the far end of the table. She didn’t seem at all pleased to see me. She probably still resented me for attracting the attention of Markos.

  Spread across the wooden table in front of me were various parchments with unfamiliar writing. Some of it I recognized from the secret lair when Laurel discovered the hidden information. There had been previous efforts to find a way to break the curse, so we were building on work that had already been done.

  "Where's the unicorn horn?" I as
ked.

  "Safe in the coven vault and warded to the hilt,” Ginger replied. "We decided to keep it there until we need it. There's no point in risking its safety."

  "Do you think it would be in any danger?" I asked. "I would think most paranormals, if not all, want to see an end to the curse."

  "The horn of a sacred unicorn carries incredible power," Professor Holmes explained. "The more unscrupulous among us might try to use such an item for personal gain.”

  I studied the parchment. "So how far have we gotten with deciphering?"

  "Laurel’s been a welcome addition," Meg said. "She’s managed to translate an entire paragraph that had us all stumped."

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Laurel's proud smile. I had no doubt I was looking at the future head of the coven. Laurel was smart, capable, and respected at a very young age, not unlike the lauded Arabella St. Simon. It wouldn’t have surprised me at all to learn they were related.

  "Laurel, why don't you tell Emma about your findings?" Ginger said.

  “These symbols represent chains or bonds,” Laurel said, tapping on the parchment.

  I looked at the circular symbols and immediately thought of Daniel’s halo. He was never far from my thoughts, even when I needed to focus on other matters.

  “They want us to break the chains?” I queried. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “That was the assumption we’d been working under,” Professor Holmes said.

  I shot a quizzical look at Laurel. “We shouldn’t break the chains?” I was confused.

  “I don’t think the symbols here represent the curse,” Laurel said. “Obviously, we should break the curse. I think the chains refer to something else.”

  I squinted at the parchment. “That looks like a harp.”

  Laurel’s eyes shone brightly. “I think so, too.”

  “We need to play harp music to break the curse?” Because that could be easily arranged.

  “No,” Laurel said. “It’s not literal. The harp is an ancient symbol that represents a ladder or a bridge.”

  I peered at the image. “To where? The human world?”