Wands Upon A Time (Spellbound Ever After Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Annabel Chase

  Wands Upon A Time

  Spellbound Ever After Paranormal Cozy Mystery, Book 3

  Annabel Chase

  Red Palm Press LLC

  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

  Also by Annabel Chase

  Chapter One

  “I cannot believe we’re having a wee baby.” Gareth floated around the dining room in a tizzy. I’d never seen my vampire ghost roommate in such a state of heightened glee. He was usually the Ghost of Christmas Past, casting a harsh light on all the gloomy shadows of life.

  I shot Gareth a quizzical look from my place at the dining room table. “We are not having anything except a pot of tea. Daniel and I are the ones having a baby.”

  “Details, details,” Gareth said. “The Winged Wonder seems to have taken the news well. I half expected him to weep inconsolably.”

  “Daniel isn’t the type to cry for joy,” I replied. I took a sip of chamomile tea. Gareth had been experimenting with herbal teas to find me one that soothed my seemingly constant nausea.

  “I didn’t mean for joy,” Gareth said. “I meant because there’d be a bigger prima donna than him in the house. Babies are the ultimate diva.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Daniel is a grown angel. He isn’t a prima donna.”

  Gareth snorted. “He asked to have some of the doorways widened. For his excessively large head, I imagine.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Because of his wings! He was constantly catching his feathers on the doorjamb. The doors in this house were designed for skinny, wingless residents.”

  The vampire ghost folded his arms. “As they should be.”

  I shook my head, unwilling to engage him any further on the matter. “I don’t have time to debate you. I have to be at the academy in half an hour for the official welcome to the new High Priestess.” I slumped in my chair, dreading the introduction to Lady Weatherby’s replacement.

  Gareth suppressed a laugh. “You seem quite keen.”

  “I wish Professor Holmes could have carried on as head of the coven.” At least the kindly wizard was a known entity. I had concerns about Marjory Limpet.

  “The coven needs a firm hand,” Gareth said. “Francis Holmes is lovely, but he lacks the requisite spine of steel.”

  “Thank you for the tea. I’m not rushing to the toilet, so I’d call it a win.”

  “My corporeal skills have come into their own thanks to Lyra Gray,” he said. “And while we’re on the subject of changes to the house, I’ve taken the liberty of creating a list of other modifications we’ll need to make soon.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Now who’s the prima donna?”

  “Not for me,” Gareth said. “For the wee one.”

  Here we go. “What kind of modifications?”

  “Well, as Daniel pointed out, this is an old house,” he replied. “You cannot expect the little lad to toddle around here unaided without taking precautions.”

  “What makes you think the baby is a lad and not a lass?” I asked.

  Gareth shrugged. “I was only speculating. I have no special knowledge. I dwell on the death side, remember? Not the birth.”

  “To be accurate, you dwell in neither.”

  “Way to kick me when I’m already down,” Gareth pouted.

  I decided to indulge him. “What kind of babyproofing do you think we need? Aside from trimming Magpie’s talons, I think we’re in good shape.”

  At the mention of his name, Magpie hissed at me from his place on the mantel. I worried how the hellbeast would behave with an infant in the house, but I had months to ponder that question before it became a reality.

  “These windows are unlocked,” Gareth said, pointing to the large dining room windows. “The baby can simply pop it open and fall out onto the front porch.” He pushed his fist into his palm in a smashing gesture. “Melon cracked wide open.”

  I stared at the oversized windows. “Gareth, I can barely open those windows. Do you know how hard they are to budge?”

  “Aye, but your upper body strength is a known weakness,” he replied. “Perhaps the baby will take after his father.”

  I regarded him with amusement. “Wow. Are you acknowledging something positive about Daniel?”

  “I think it’s inarguable that Daniel has impressive upper body strength,” Gareth huffed. “The man sports heavy wings. How can he not?”

  I smiled. “He is very strong.”

  “Aye, we’ve established that.”

  “And sexy. All six foot four inches of him.” I sighed. I was a lucky woman.

  Gareth’s hands flew to cover his ears. “Could we get back on track before I become the one with a nausea problem?”

  I sipped my tea. “What else is on your list?”

  Gareth hovered beside me at the table. “Your diet is the immediate thing.”

  My eyes widened. “My diet?”

  “You cannot continue to eat the way you do, Emma. You’re eating for two now. It isn’t about your disgusting habits.”

  My body tensed. “And what disgusting habits might those be?”

  “All those sweet baked goods you gorge on,” he said. “Alcohol. You must stop the drinking until after the breastfeeding stage.”

  Instinctively, my hands flew to cover my boobs. “I’m breastfeeding?”

  Gareth eyed me. “Aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I never thought about it.”

  “Didn’t your mother…” He faltered. “No, sorry. Of course you wouldn’t know.”

  My hands dropped to the table. No, I didn’t know whether my biological mother had breastfed me before giving me up for adoption. I knew very little about her, other than that she’d served as a Warden of the West for the Agency of Magical Forces. I knew even less about my father.

  “I don’t eat that many baked goods,” I said, although my objection sounded weak even to my own ears.

  “You treat them like vegetables,” Gareth said. “A staple of every meal.”

  I thought of the buttery croissant I’d had for breakfast. So delicious. “Do you think I should give up all baked goods?”

  “At least cut down on them,” Gareth advised. “You don’t want a babe addicted to sugar and carbs.”

  “No, of course not.” My hand rested on my stomach. I didn’t want to do anything to screw up this baby’s life. The baby was already at risk—having me for a mother. I didn’t know the first thing about children. I’d been an only child, raised by my grandparents after the death of my adoptive parents. Despite attending school, children weren’t a regular feature in my life. There were no cousins or neighborhood kids. My whole life had been lonely until I ended up in Spellbound. Best worst mistake ever.

  “I also brought you reading material from the library,” Gareth said. He motioned to the far corner of the table where three books were stacked.

  I walked over to examine them. Glow: Not Just For Fairies, Broomstick Mamas: Friend or Foe, and Your Pregnant Paranormal Body: Magical Changes Ahead.

  “They didn’t have one specific to sorceresses,” he said, tapping the second book. “I a
ssume the information will be close enough.”

  “Thank you, Gareth,” I said. “I’m sure these will all give me nightmares.”

  “I’ll read them, too,” the vampire ghost said. “And Daniel should brush up on his knowledge as well. We’re all on Team Baby now.”

  A smile touched my lips. “Team Baby. I like the sound of that.” Magpie lifted his head and hissed again. “Apparently, someone is not on Team Baby.”

  “Change is difficult for him,” Gareth said. “Give him time to adjust. He’ll come around.”

  “I hope so,” I said, because if it was a choice between the hellbeast and my baby—well, it was no choice at all.

  Marjory Limpet was nothing like Lady Weatherby, not that I expected her to be. Where the former head of the coven was tall and imposing, Marjory was short and squat with brown hair and bangs that were more appropriate on an eight-year-old. A powder blue suit peeked out from beneath her purple cloak. Despite her unassuming looks, she had a commanding presence. She also had two fluffy white dogs at her heels—quite a surprise given that we were in the academy’s multipurpose room. I’d never seen a dog inside academy walls, only cats and Sedgwick. The dogs yipped incessantly until Marjory took her place at the podium and began to speak. They fell silent as though under a spell—which, maybe they were.

  “Thank you all so much for coming out to welcome me,” Marjory said. “I’m pleased and honored to serve as the new High Priestess in Spellbound. I know we have a lot of work to do here as a result of your unfortunate situation, but I assure you that I’m well equipped to whip this coven into shape.”

  I heard murmurs all around me. I wasn’t convinced the members of the coven wanted to be whipped into anything. They seemed pretty content with the way things were. Only the national coven headquarters seemed to believe we had issues to overcome.

  “I thought I’d bring my canine companions along for the introduction,” Marjory continued, “as they are often by my side. You’ll see plenty of their gorgeous faces in my office whenever you come to see me. The one on the right is Lola and the one on the left is Lulu.”

  Lola and Lulu? Spell’s bells.

  “Is one of them your familiar?” Laurel asked. I peeked down the aisle to look at her. She was still in her goth phase, wearing a black dress, dark eye makeup, and dark purple lipstick. Even her hair was still dyed black. I’d advised everyone to remain mute on the subject in the hope that the old Laurel would return to us soon. I figured the more we made comments about her appearance, the longer the teen torture would continue.

  Marjory gazed at Laurel as though examining an alien species. “My word. What an interesting shade of lipstick.”

  “Thank you,” came Laurel’s reply.

  “I prefer a calming pink myself.” When Laurel said nothing, Marjory continued. “As a matter of fact, I don’t believe in having familiars, Miss…?”

  “My name is Laurel,” she said. “What do you mean you don’t believe? They’re not fairy tales, Miss Limpet. They’re an integral part of our culture.”

  Lola jumped up on Marjory’s leg and she stroked the dog’s head. “I believe familiars undermine a witch’s or wizard’s autonomy. We do not need a feline spirit animal to perform our functions as members of the coven. We are more than capable of subsisting without them.”

  Well, I didn’t need Sedgwick, but he definitely enhanced my life.

  “I thought the purpose of having you here is to reinforce coven customs and practices,” Millie interjected. “Are you telling us that the other covens no longer keep company with familiars?”

  Marjory bristled. “I’ve made no such claim. And, before we go any further, I’d like to make it clear here and now that I expect to be addressed by my title.”

  “Miss Limpet?” Laurel ventured.

  “No, Laurel. I mean High Priestess.” Marjory scanned the crowd. “Your answer should be ‘yes, High Priestess’ or ‘no, High Priestess.’

  “Thank you, High Priestess,” Laurel said. I detected a sprinkle of teenaged saltiness in her tone. For once, I welcomed it.

  “Are you suggesting we…disengage with our familiars?” Sophie asked. “Because I’m not even sure that’s possible.”

  “I assure you, anything is possible,” Marjory said. “We are all powerful beings, are we not?”

  “Yes, High Priestess,” Sophie mumbled.

  “As I said, I am not suggesting that we do away with familiars,” Marjory said. “That task would prove far too onerous at the present time and we have more important work to undertake.” She stopped for a beat. “Such as the academy curriculum.”

  In the front row, Professor Holmes raised his hand. “You mentioned a task force to me, High Priestess.”

  “Ah, yes,” Marjory said. “Absolutely. The first order of business, however, is to assign a new name to this institution. You simply cannot command respect when your future coven leaders are attending the ASS Academy.”

  Snickers rippled through the crowd.

  “You can’t change the name,” Millie objected. “Arabella St. Simon is revered in these halls.”

  “And she can carry on being revered in other ways,” Marjory said. “She’s nothing except the butt of a joke now.”

  “That’s not true,” Begonia piped up from beside me. “Everyone adores her. She was our founder.”

  “I, for one, agree with the High Priestess.” Avery’s smug look made me want to tie her cornsilk hair to the back of the chair without her knowledge and then set off the fire alarm.

  Marjory’s lips parted, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth. “I propose we change the name to the Sun and Moon Academy, to represent the two sides of our magical abilities—light and dark.”

  The Sun and Moon Academy? I couldn’t imagine attending anywhere other than the ASS Academy. It was practically a badge of honor to be a student of ASS.

  “Perhaps this is an issue that can be addressed by the task force,” Professor Holmes interjected, sensing the restlessness of the group. “As are the many proposed changes to the curriculum.”

  I raised my hand. “I volunteer to be on the task force.”

  “Ah, yes,” Professor Holmes said. The wizard turned to smile at me. “Emma Hart would be a wise addition to the team.”

  “Emma Hart,” Marjory repeated. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

  “Emma was instrumental in breaking the curse,” Begonia said. “There’s even a statue of her in the town square to commemorate the event.”

  “And of her husband,” someone said, giggling.

  My cheeks flamed. I didn’t want attention drawn to the arguably pornographic statue of Daniel and me where I appear to be riding him bareback. The last time I’d been in the town square, someone had drawn mustaches on both of us. Very undignified.

  “Emma even has a key to the town due to her contributions,” Sophie added.

  “That’s ceremonial,” I said. “It doesn’t actually unlock the mayor’s office or anything.” Not that I’d tried—more than once.

  Marjory stepped forward to scrutinize me. “Yes, Emma Hart. The sorceress who has infiltrated our coven. Now I remember why your name rings a bell.”

  “Infiltrated sounds sinister,” I said. “I didn’t ask to be a member. There was a mix-up.” I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  She continued to peer at me like I had a strange birthmark on my face. My fingers drifted to touch my cheek, just to see whether anything felt out of place. The intensity of her stare was triggering paranoia.

  “I will have to keep my eye on you, I can tell,” Marjory said. “I always sniff out the rebel rousers.”

  “I’m not a rebel rouser,” I objected.

  Marjory flashed a plastic smile. “Exactly what a rebel rouser would say.” She turned on her heel and marched back to the front of the room. “My motto is that expectations should be set, and, more importantly, met. That should tell you everything you need to know about me.”

  “I think your haircut
tells us everything we need to know about you,” Millie whispered.

  I stifled a giggle and immediately regretted it because it seemed to press my nausea button. Millie could be hilariously vicious at times. If she and Gareth ever teamed up, we were all in trouble.

  “Over the course of the next few weeks, I will be appointing a Voice of the Coven,” she continued. “I’ve asked Jackson Briar to be with us this morning so we can officially welcome him as well. As you may remember, he has opted to stay on in Spellbound as its Black Dog, giving up his position at national headquarters.”

  The muscular wizard waved from his spot in the first row. If we had to have security, he wasn’t a bad choice. I trusted him, which was crucial given past events in Spellbound.

  “Maybe he can help me with my protective spells,” Millie said. Her voice was almost dreamy, highly unusual for the acerbic witch.

  “He is attractive,” I agreed. And single. He’d be a catch for a lucky someone in town. My stomach continued to churn and I wished the effects of the chamomile tea had lasted a bit longer.

  “Are you okay, Emma?” Begonia whispered. “You look peaked.”

  “Something I ate,” I lied. I hadn’t told the coven about the pregnancy yet. I was trying to wait until after my first appointment with the healer tomorrow. If the report was good, then I’d share the news publicly.

  Unfortunately, the High Priestess had noticed our private conversation and decided to make an example of us. She strode from the podium with Lola and Lulu trailing behind her in respectful silence. She stopped at the end of my row and peered down at me.

  “Ms. Hart,” she said. “Do you think it’s appropriate to speak while your High Priestess is in the middle of her welcome address?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss…High Priestess,” I said. “I was only telling Begonia that I don’t feel very well.”