by Zoe Arden
Damon was pacing his living room. “I don’t like him.”
“Do you ever like anyone?” I snapped.
“I like you.”
His blue eyes scanned my face, making me blush. His dark hair was almost to his shoulders now. He looked like a rock star. My heart stuttered and my anger vanished. I sighed. Why couldn’t Damon and I have a simple relationship? He liked me. I liked him. But would that ever be enough?
“Come on, sit back down,” I said, pushing him into the chair. “I’ll call my aunt.” He sat as I dialed Eleanor, who tried not to laugh as I explained the situation. I jotted down her instructions, thanked her, and readied myself for a bit of magic. Damon shut his eyes like I was about to give him a shot.
“It won’t hurt,” I said. “I don’t think.”
“That’s what all witches say before you rub someone out.”
I laughed. “Rub someone out? Been watching one too many mafia movies, have you?”
“Just do it.”
I held my hand palm down over Damon’s antlers and began moving it in a counter-clockwise circle.
“Antlers reggio, antlers caggio, antlers leggio.” I wiggled my fingers at him and the antlers disappeared in a puff of smoke. Damon reached up and touched his head, feeling around.
“They’re gone,” he said, smiling. He kissed me gently but I didn’t feel the same pucker of excitement that I normally did.
“Told you I could do it.”
“I never doubted it for a second.” He was grinning at me, but I found it irritating instead of enduring. He had doubted me every step of the way.
I hesitated before asking my next question. “Are you still going to write to COMHA?”
Damon’s lips turned down at the corners. “Not if you don’t want me to, I guess.”
“I just think you’d both get in trouble. I mean, a human attacking a wizard. A wizard attacking a human. None of this can go well. Best just to drop it.”
“If you say so.”
We stood awkwardly together for a moment before I moved toward the door. “I should go.”
“Wait,” Damon said, taking my hand and drawing me back.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. His breath blew gently against my face as he held me to him and kissed me. My heart began to pound. When he finally pulled away, I was sorry. I wanted more of him. More hugging. More kissing. More of the tenderness he showed far too seldom. When Damon held me like this, it was the only time I felt like he didn’t care that I was a witch.
“I’m sorry if I was short with you,” he said.
“Me, too.”
“I wanted to ask you a favor before you left.”
“A favor?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow. He still had his arms wrapped around my waist and was caressing the small of my back, sending shivers up my spine. I wondered if this was his way of buttering me up. If it was, I didn’t care. More buttering, please.
“It’s about my mom.”
“Oh.” My cheeks colored slightly. We hadn’t discussed my fiasco of a Christmas present since I’d told him she was coming.
“I talked to her on the phone.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I tried to convince her not to come.”
“And?”
“She’s coming anyway.”
“Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. It’s been years since your uncle’s death. Maybe she’s moved past it.”
I hated to bring up his uncle’s death since that had been a constant sore point in our relationship, but it seemed necessary. His uncle, Jon Pratt, had killed my mother when I was just a baby. He’d tried to kill me, too. My father had killed him instead.
After Jon’s death, Damon’s mother had moved them off the island. It was a sticky situation to maneuver in our relationship. Not that Damon blamed my father for killing Jon, but still... things couldn’t get much more complicated between us.
Damon frowned. He finally let go of my waist.
“So, what’s the favor?” I asked.
“I want you to meet her at the ferry docks with me.”
“You do?” I asked, kind of shocked. From the way Damon had been talking about her, I’d thought he’d want us to stay clear of each other.
“Yeah. I thought that maybe if she met you, she’d see not all witches are bad.”
I could tell from Damon’s expression that he was worried. “Of course, I’ll go with you. I’d love to meet your mom. In fact, I bet it goes better than you think. After all, you like it here in Heavenly Haven, right? I mean, now that some time has passed. I’m sure your mom will like it, too.”
“Ava... I wouldn’t say I like it here.”
My smile dropped away. “You... you don’t?”
He sighed and shrugged. “Sometimes I do. Mostly I don’t.”
“If you don’t like it here, then why do you stay?”
“You’re here.”
My heart gave out. I lost all the breath from my lungs and pulled Damon quickly into my arms, kissing him and refusing to let go.
“That was the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” I told him as I finally came up for air.
“Well, if it gets that kind of reaction out of you, I’ll have to start saying it more often.”
His lips were like warm wine as he bent his head to mine again. I drank him up. My phone rang loudly, its jingle merry tone sounding shrill and pulling us out of the moment. I hoped it would stop but it just kept going.
“You better get that,” Damon said, pulling away from me.
“I guess.” I reached into my pocket and didn’t even look at the number as I held it to my ear. It was probably Aunt Eleanor wanting to make sure her spell had worked. “Hello?”
A woman’s voice screeched into my eardrum. “You stay away from me.”
“Um... I’m sorry? Who is this?”
“Like you don’t know. This is Anastasia Peacock, and I want you to stay away from me. Do you understand? Stop your spying and leave me be. I haven’t seen Polly, and I don’t know where she is.”
“Anastasia,” I said, more confused than irritated by her accusations. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t been spying on you.”
“Just stay away from me or I’ll hex you like you’ve never been hexed before!” she snapped and hung up the phone. I stood staring at the receiver.
“What was that about?” Damon asked.
“I have no idea.”
* * *
0 8
* * *
Detective Hudson was sitting in his car, camped outside my house—correction, Eleanor and Trixie’s house. They’d told me repeatedly to think of it as my own, but with the bakery still closed, I was more than aware that they were the ones making the payments. Maybe there was something I could do to help.
I barely noticed Detective Hudson as I made my way past him. It was amazing how quickly a person could get used to something—even when that “something” was an irritating detective who insisted on watching you like a hawk.
I thought briefly about tapping on his window and telling him that his spell had backfired and Damon had been turned into a jelly bean or snap pea and accidentally gotten eaten. I wanted to teach him a lesson about picking on people, especially humans. I supposed the only reason I didn’t was because I knew what he would say—Damon had started it. And it was true.
I tried to focus on something else. Anastasia’s phone call was on the top of my list. I replayed her words repeatedly in my head. “Stop spying on me,” she’d said. What made her think that someone was spying on her? And if it wasn’t me, then who was it?
I hesitated at the front door to my house, trying to think. Detective Hudson was the last person I wanted to talk to right now, but he might be able to help. I walked toward his car. His chin was leaning against his chest. It looked like he’d fallen asleep. It was only late afternoon, but I knew he hadn’t been sleeping much, maybe not at all. That special peppy extract COMHA had is
sued him kept him wired all night, but then he was exhausted all day. He’d told us that he couldn’t take more than two doses in a row or it could have disastrous consequences.
“The last time someone at COMHA used too much peppy extract... well, let’s just say that John McNarthy doesn’t just sleep with the fishes, he is a fish.”
Watching him sleep, it crossed my mind that maybe I was being too hard on Detective Hudson. After all, when I didn’t get any sleep, I turned into a loudmouthed grouch. Maybe he was the same way.
He looked up when I tapped on his window, startled. I realized that he hadn’t been sleeping. He’d been playing with his Witchmobile phone. It looked like he was watching a YouTube video. He rolled the window down.
“You’re back. About time. What can I do for you?”
“Damon’s fine, thanks for asking,” I snapped.
He just looked blankly at me. There was no apology for what he’d done to Damon. No question as to how Damon was even doing. For a second, I thought about forgetting the whole thing, but then Anastasia’s accusations came flashing forward once more.
“Someone’s spying on Anastasia Peacock,” I said. “I just thought you should know.” I turned to go.
“Ava,” Detective Hudson called.
I stopped and took a deep breath before turning back.
“Yes?”
“How do you know someone’s spying on her?”
“She told me.”
He cocked an eyebrow in my direction.
“She reamed me out on the phone like an hour ago. She thinks it’s me. That I’m the one spying on her. Even though I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
“Did she say how she found out?”
There was something in his question that made me pause. I searched his face, hoping his eyes might give something away. He had soulful eyes that I was pretty sure, under the right conditions, could give away a lot. But he’d trained himself to be better than that. My gaze fell back to the phone in his lap and my jaw dropped open. What I’d thought was a YouTube video was far from it. A woman with long blond hair, wearing a purple turban with a giant gemstone in the middle of it, stared back at me from the paused video.
“It’s you?” I shouted. “You’re spying on Anastasia?”
“Of course, I am.”
Why did everything Detective Hudson say make me feel like an idiot? He had a way of speaking that made it seem as if all the answers to my questions should have been obvious. At least I didn’t have to ask him why he was spying on her. It had crossed my mind more than once that if Polly was in Sweetland Cove, she’d try to see her mom.
“I guess you’re not doing a very good job of spying, then, are you? I mean, spies are supposed to be covert, right?” It was a sharp jibe that a better person than me might have left alone, but it was my way of getting even with him for all the grief he’d been causing me.
“I wanted her to know,” Detective Hudson said, completely throwing me off guard.
“What do you mean? Why would you want her to know you’re spying on her?”
“I didn’t. Not right away, at least. I hid a bunch of cameras all over her property one night.”
“You installed cameras around her home?”
“Video bumpers,” he corrected. “They’re a lot like voice bumpers except instead of recording sound, they record pictures.”
“Do they fly up through windows like voice bumpers?”
“Yes, except that they’re much more discreet. One video bumper is no bigger than the size of an ant. It’s something COMHA’s been working on for a while. I’m one of the first agents to use it in the field.” I heard the pride in his voice when he said that.
“They sound cool, but I still don’t get it. You said you wanted her to find the cameras?”
“I wanted her to find a camera. She was suspicious that someone was watching her. She started searching her home and store so I left one in an obvious place for her to find. I thought once she found it, she’d stop searching.”
“And did she?”
“Yes.”
“So, the others are still safely tucked away,” I said, finally getting it. “Clever.”
“Thanks.”
I peered down at the LED screen. “So, what have you got?” I wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of spying on someone, but curiosity got the better of me.
“Get in and I’ll show you.”
“In your car?” I asked. For some reason, the idea surprised me.
“Yeah, it’s warm outside. And I don’t want anyone else to see this.”
“Who’s gonna see?” I asked.
At that moment, our snoopy neighbor, Madison Gray, opened the front door and waved as she walked to her mailbox. Her eyes lingered on us, especially Detective Hudson. I waved back and got in the car.
“Okay, look at this,” Detective Hudson said as he held the phone for me. He was clearly excited about whatever it was and happy to have someone to share it with. “Just let me hit the sound button.”
Anastasia was moving around her shop, The Alchemic Stone, going through what looked like a normal day. The phone rang, and she went to answer it.
“Hello?” Anastasia said.
I wished we could hear the other side of the conversation. It would be nice to know who she was talking to.
“Tomorrow night?”
Detective Hudson shot me a quick glance to make sure I’d caught that.
“Who’s she talking to?” I asked.
“Just wait,” he replied.
I turned my attention back to the screen.
“Midnight?” Anastasia squawked. “Why so late?” She frowned as she listened to the reply. “Of course. Are you sure you don’t want to come by sooner?” She nodded her head in response to whatever the person was saying.
“Okay, tomorrow at midnight. I’ll leave the shop’s back door unlocked. Just come in. I’ll see you then.” She hung up the phone, and Detective Hudson clicked pause.
“So? What do you think?” he asked.
“You think she was talking to Polly?”
“Who else?”
I had to admit, it made sense. It wasn’t as if a customer was going to meet Anastasia at midnight.
He hesitated a moment before asking his next question.
“Would you like to come watch her place with me tomorrow night?”
If I hadn’t have known better, I would have sworn he was blushing.
“You mean like a stakeout?” I asked. I knew none of my friends or family would approve. Especially not my dad. Especially not Damon.
“Okay,” I said. “Tomorrow it is.”
* * *
0 9
* * *
I woke up when Snowball licked my face.
“Hi, Fluffhead,” I said, scratching under her chin.
Snowball crinkled her nose. “Snowball does not like Fluffhead. Snowball likes Snowy or Snowball.” She licked my nose to emphasize the point.
“Okay, Snowy. Can you do me a favor?”
Snowball nodded as she sat back on my chest.
“I need you to go downstairs and tell me if anyone’s there.”
Snowball jumped off my chest, ran downstairs, and returned a minute later licking her lips.
“Papa is gone. Aunties have gone.”
“Did they go to Coffee Cove?”
“Snowball believes so.”
“Good.”
I’d been hoping my father would go with them this morning. He’d been helping Eleanor and Trixie out more and more at the bakery lately. Apparently, my dad enjoyed coming up with new flavor combinations. His latest, banana chip brownie bread, had been a huge success with customers.
With the bakery being closed, Trixie and Eleanor had decided to set up a temporary shop in Coffee Cove, with Melbourne’s permission. It had been Trixie’s idea. They’d worked it out on the phone last night and were headed down there this morning to get started. I’d told them I’d join them when I could. I knew the
y could use all the help they could get, especially with all those New Year’s orders to fill.
“Is Mama up to mischief?” Snowball asked.
“Mischief?” I repeated, surprised. “What makes Snowy ask that?” My familiar was almost too perceptive sometimes.
“Mama makes mischief a lot. Snowball knows. Snowball reads Mama’s thoughts sometimes.”
I laughed and scratched Snowball’s head. “Snowball makes mischief, too,” I said. “Like getting into her treats when no one is around.”
Snowball blinked at me innocently.
“Don’t worry,” I told her, getting out of bed. “I’m just going to see a few people and say hi. I need one more favor, though.”
“Will Snowball get treats?”
“Yes, if Snowy does a good job, Snowy gets treats. I need you to go out to Detective Hudson’s car and distract him until I’m gone.”
“Snowball can do this,” she said emphatically.
“I know you can. I’ll leave treats out in the kitchen for you.”
“Snowball knows where they are,” she said and ran out the door. I dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. I’d already decided before going to bed that today I would pay a few visits to people from our Christmas party, starting with Mayor Singer. I knew he had a grudge against Paisley Mudget, and he’d been at the party that night, too. Which meant he could have swiped that skeleton key at any time.
I peered out the window and saw Snowball attacking Detective Hudson’s feet as he stood there, looking confused. I had to laugh. She managed to distract him to the point that he dropped his phone. Snowball pounced on it, using a bit of magic to help her pick it up and run down the street like it was a bird she was chasing. Detective Hudson ran after her. I made sure to leave her treat bag on the table and noticed that it was already open.
Eleanor’s car was in the garage. It purred to life as I started it up. We so rarely drove anywhere—Sweetland Cove just wasn’t big enough to warrant the everyday use of a car—that it was almost a special treat stepping on the gas pedal.
I drove down the only road that connected Sweetland Cove to Mistmoor Point, using a speed charm to help me get there a little faster. Two hours later, I pulled into Mistmoor and parked my car outside Mayor Singer’s office.
