“But this is a confessional,” I objected. “I just want to talk to you about Gareth.”
“It’s the most private place in the church,” Myra said.
I relented, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. I sat on the bench and waited. Two seconds later, Myra appeared opposite me, yanking open the dark curtain to peer at me. Due to her short stature, I could only see her eyes and the top of her white head.
“So I wanted to know…” I began, but Myra shushed me again.
“That’s not how the confessional works.”
“How would you know how a confessional works?” I shot back. “You don’t even have a real priest here.” Or maybe they did. Otherwise, how would they bless the water to make it holy?
Myra’s wrinkled brow wrinkled even more. “Have you come to ask me questions or not?”
I was beginning to understand why Gareth hadn’t filed the petition yet. “Yes, but…”
“Then you need to say, ‘bless me, Myra, for I have sinned.’”
“But I haven’t…”
“Come now, dear. You’ve been living as a human in the prime of her youth. Sinning is to be expected.”
I studied the top of her head. “You can’t send people to hell, can you?” I was fairly certain gnomes didn’t have the power of damnation.
One white eyebrow lifted. “Why do you ask? Is there something you’ve done that might necessitate a visit downstairs?”
I reviewed a mental list of my imperfect behavior. “I’m already planning to get rid of Gareth’s cat, even though the house is huge and we can easily co-exist.”
“No problem there. Cats are horrid creatures.”
“I don’t know about the horrid part, but I couldn’t live with one.”
“I couldn’t live without Bacardi,” she said.
“Oh, that’s so sweet. Is Bacardi your dog?”
She gave me a look of utter disdain. “No, dear, the rum.”
They had Bacardi in Spellbound? “How can you have human-made rum here?”
“Oops.” Myra chuckled. “I think I’m confused. You’re the one meant to be confessing.”
I thought more about my past transgressions. “When I was nine, I stole a handful of change from my grandfather’s swear jar.” I’d wanted to buy candy at the store because I was never allowed to have any at home. Gran was forever worrying about the state of my teeth.
“Change, you say?” Myra asked. “Is that a lot of money in human terms?”
“Not really,” I said. “But it wasn’t mine and I took it.” And I never told anyone until now.
“Anything else?” Myra sounded unimpressed.
I took a deep breath. “When I was sixteen, I really, really liked my best friend’s boyfriend.” I’d gone to bed every night, praying they’d break up. I’d even wished for a huge zit on her chin to put him off.
“And?” Myra prompted.
“And what?”
“Did you try to seduce him?”
“No, of course not.”
“Did you dress provocatively in the hopes of gaining his affection?” She stooped over the ledge and peered at my chest. “I see the potential for cleavage is there.”
I laid a hand over my chest. “No, but I used to wear makeup when I knew I’d be seeing him.” I tended to look like a ghost without lipstick.
She sat back down. “Did you at least kiss him?”
My shoulders sagged. “No, nothing ever happened, but that’s not the point. I coveted him. Coveting is against the rules, isn’t it?” I’d need to brush up on my commandments if I intended to swing by this beautiful church now and again.
“I suppose,” she huffed. “This confession is incredibly lame, I’ll have you know. You should hear the filth in this town. You’ll never fit in.”
I struggled to come up with something worse, but I couldn’t. “Why do you need to hear confession anyway? You have no real authority.”
“Because that’s how it works.”
“You’re just a nosy, old cow!” I exclaimed. “You probably use this confessional to collect information about the other residents.”
“I am a gnome, not a cow,” she said simply. “And your confession is putting me to sleep. Tell me why you’re here so I can move onto something more interesting. Like a nap.”
“I found a draft of a petition in Gareth’s home office. He was planning to lodge a protest against the holy water used in the church. Did you know about that?”
She hesitated. “I knew he objected to it. He told me as much when I ran into him at the Enchanted Garden.”
“What’s that?”
“My husband Frank’s garden center. Gareth was looking at azaleas, but he couldn’t decide which kind he wanted. He mentioned that he’d like the vampires to be able to enjoy the church social scene as much as everyone else in town, but that they considered the holy water a health and safety issue.”
“Did he ask you to stop using it?”
“He did.”
“And what did you say?” Given the petition, I was fairly certain I already knew the answer.
“I told him to strap on his big boy fangs and get on with life.”
“In those exact words?”
She paused. “No. I told him it simply isn’t possible to please everybody all the time, so why bother trying?”
The more I learned about Gareth, the more I liked him. “But his request wasn’t about pleasing everyone. It was about making a community space accessible to everyone.”
Myra blew a raspberry. “Poppycock. Spellbound is a big town. The vamps have plenty of places to congregate. Gareth didn’t need to get his fangs out of joint just because I want to keep the church sacred.”
“Do you let witches come here?”
“I let you in, didn’t I?”
“What about werewolves?”
“Of course. They contribute the best dishes to the potluck dinners.”
Whether she was willing to admit it or not, Myra had a bias against vampires. “What did you plan to do if he filed the petition?”
She leaned her arms on the ledge of the confessional, revealing her whole face. “Gareth was the public defender. He pissed off every judge in town at one time or another.”
“So you didn’t see the petition as a threat?”
She laughed and plopped down on the bench. “Not even remotely.”
No motive for Myra then. “Thank you for your time.”
“We host bingo every Wednesday night if you’re interested. I’ll add you to the mailing list. My owl sends calendar updates every Monday morning.”
“Okay, sure.” Maybe if I spent enough time at the church, I’d be able to convince the other members of the community to ditch the holy water. A gesture in Gareth’s memory.
“If you’re looking for reasons someone murdered the vampire, you might want to drop in on your neighbors.”
“The harpies?”
“The Minors are a bunch of screeching shrews. Gareth was risking life and limb by complaining about the calendar. I don’t know why Sheriff Hugo hasn’t arrested the whole family.”
“What’s the calendar?”
Myra groaned. “Every year, Miss Thumb-In-Every-Honey-Pot puts together a calendar featuring the hottest males in Spellbound as a fundraiser. This year she refused to allow the vampires to show their fangs. It was too erotic or something.” She laughed and slapped her knee. “As if there was any such thing. Too erotic? Can you imagine?”
Abruptly, Myra pulled the curtain closed between us. I guess that was my cue to leave.
“Nice meeting you,” I said, as I exited the confessional and immediately looked around the church in fear. What was the penalty for lying in church?
I hurried out the front door before I could find out.
On my way back into town from the church, Sedgwick intercepted me.
You’re wanted in town.
“Shouldn’t you have a note in your beak or something?” I asked.
; They gave me one, but I dropped it. Who needs a note when I can just tell you the message?
I sighed. “What’s the message?”
You are to meet Sophie and Begonia at Wands-A-Plenty.
“Really?”
Would I make this stuff up?
I hurried the rest of the way into town. Sure enough, Sophie and Begonia were waiting outside of the wand shop. I was pretty sure they were more excited than I was.
“Be sure to get a wand with a leather grip,” Begonia said. “They’re more expensive but well worth it.”
“Doesn’t the wand need to choose me?” I asked.
Sophie and Begonia cackled hysterically.
“Where did you get a silly idea like that?” Begonia asked. “We’re not shopping for a unicorn.”
Wait. There were unicorns here? Be still my heart.
We entered the wand shop and the inside was exactly as the name suggested. Rows and rows of wands and nothing else.
“He’ll need to measure your wingspan,” Sophie said. “Once we know your size, we can shop in the appropriate section.”
An older gentleman with gray hair and round glasses emerged from a back room. “Why, hello. If it isn’t the new witch. What a thrilling development for Spellbound.”
“This is Alaric, the owner,” Sophie said. “He’s a wizard.”
“Nice to meet you, Alaric.”
“Hold out your arms, please, Miss Hart,” he said from behind the counter.
He was going to measure me from there?
I extended my arms and watched as a measuring tape unrolled in front of me and extended from my left fingertips to my right. It floated over to Alaric who noted the numbers.
“A size six. Just as I suspected,” he said.
“That’s my size, too,” Begonia said. “I know where to take you.”
We disappeared down one of the long aisles and I noticed a large number six hovering in mid-air above a shelf. There were too many wands to choose from in every color imaginable.
“Grab anything you like and you can try it out,” Sophie said.
“How can I try them out?” I asked. “That doesn’t seem safe.” Certainly not when I was at the helm.
“There’s a safe zone, like a dressing area,” Begonia said.
I chose half a dozen wands to take to the safe zone. It was a room behind a set of green curtains where I could practice with each wand and get a better feel for them.
Sophie and Begonia served as my assistants, teeing up the next wand and handing it to me.
“Ooh, I like that one,” Begonia said, cooing over the wand in my hand. It was a pretty celadon color with a beige leather grip. “If you don’t care for it, I may put it on my birthday list.”
“You should get one with a different colored grip, Sophie,” I said. “Then you’ll remember which way to point it.”
“I’m not allowed another wand until I outgrow this one,” Sophie replied.
“This wand was her sister’s,” Begonia explained. “Except for her first wand, all the others have been hand-me-downs.”
I pointed the wand at the dummy on the far side of the room. There were brown tufts of hair popping out of the dummy in all directions.
“I take it the wizard isn’t a fan of werewolves,” I said.
“They’ve trampled his roses one too many times,” Sophie explained. “That’s why there’s an ordinance now about when and where werewolves can turn.”
“This wand feels a little heavy for me,” I said. “Next one, please.”
Sophie handed me a Tiffany blue wand with a silver grip. “This is beautiful. It has to be too expensive for me.”
“Never mind the price,” Begonia said. “The coven is paying. They always pay for first wands. It’s a rite of passage.”
I held the wand between my fingers and examined it from end to end. “I honestly don’t think I’ve ever owned anything as nice as this.” I hadn’t made a lot of money as a public interest lawyer. In fact, I was still paying off my law school loans. I wondered what would happen to my debt now. My credit would be ruined if I ever managed to leave Spellbound.
I took aim at the dummy and focused my will. “Step on a crack/suffer blowback.”
The dummy blew backward and smashed against the wall. Sophie and Begonia gasped in unison.
“That’s definitely your wand,” Sophie said, her eyes bright. “That was better than I’ve managed to do all term.”
I stared at the tip of the wand. My palms were sweating so much I was afraid I might drop the wand.
“I felt the energy,” I said. It was like a power surge.
“I’ll bet,” Begonia said, and began gathering up the other wands. “Let’s get this one locked and loaded. I’m starving.”
I took the wand to the counter. Alaric grinned when he saw my choice.
“You have exquisite taste, Miss Hart,” he said. “This one’s a beauty.”
“Thank you. It felt right in my hand, you know?” It truly did. Like it belonged there.
“I understand completely.” He rang up the purchase. “I’ll put it on the coven’s tab.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ll need to register your wand with the registrar,” Alaric continued, wrapping my wand in tissue paper and placing it in a decorative case.
“Same with brooms,” Sophie added. “You’ll need a license, too.”
“You have as much red tape here as we do,” I said.
“When you’re all trapped under one invisible roof,” Alaric began, “rules and regulations become an absolute necessity for a civilized society.” He handed me a bag with the Wands-A-Plenty logo on the side. “Good luck with it, Miss Hart.”
“Thank you very much. I’ll need it.”
“With aim like yours,” Sophie said, “don’t be so sure. We should practice spells now.”
“Can we practice after we eat?” Begonia asked. “I can’t cast anything on an empty stomach.”
“Can’t seem to cast anything on a full stomach either,” Sophie teased.
Begonia stuck out her tongue.
“I wouldn’t mind a coffee,” I said. I needed the boost. “Can we go to Brew-Ha-Ha?”
“I never turn down a peppermint twist latte,” Begonia said.
The march began at sundown, just as we arrived in front of Brew-Ha-Ha.
Begonia’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “This must be Gareth’s funeral procession.”
We stood against the wall of the building and watched as a line of vampires passed by, each one dressed in a flowing red cloak. Leading the procession was Lord Gilder, but I recognized Samson, Edgar, and Demetrius at the front. With his chiseled features and perfectly sculpted body, it was hard to miss Demetrius.
“Why red?” I whispered.
“It’s their color of mourning,” Sophie replied.
Demetrius caught sight of me admiring him and winked.
Begonia gripped my arm. “Spell’s bells! Demetrius Hunt winked at you.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Begonia has a thing for Demetrius.”
“It’s not a thing,” Begonia said hotly, but I noticed she couldn’t take her eyes off the sexy vampire.
“I can certainly understand the interest,” I said. “He’s damned attractive.” Emphasis on damned.
The line of vampires continued, with the coffin bringing up the rear. There were no pallbearers. The coffin seemed to be sustained in the air by magic.
“Is the funeral typically this long after a vampire’s death?” I asked. In the human world, different religions had their own customs regarding when and how to bury the dead, so I guess it didn’t surprise me.
“Lord Gilder has his own way of doing things,” Sophie whispered, as though afraid to be overheard. “A coven funeral would be completely different.”
“And a werewolf funeral…” Begonia let loose a low whistle. “Let me tell you—that’s a party you want to attend.”
I returned my attention to the long proces
sion. “Where are they going now?”
“To the cemetery,” Sophie said. “Then they’ll go back to Underkoffler’s for the rest of the night to eat and drink.”
“What’s Underkoffler’s?” It didn’t sound like the name of a pub.
“Piotr Underkoffler’s funeral home,” Begonia said.
Sophie cringed. “Ugh. Don’t even say his name.” She leaned over to me. “Best to avoid him if you can.”
“Believe me. I have every intention of avoiding the town undertaker.” I watched the back end of the casket as it disappeared from view. “Is it vampires only?”
“The procession is,” Begonia said. “The party at Underkoffler’s will be open to anyone.” Her gaze flitted absently to the place on the cobblestone where we’d first spotted Demetrius. “Maybe we should go.”
“I feel like I should out of respect for Gareth, but I can’t,” I said. “I have to prepare Mumford’s case for trial in less than a week. That’s what Gareth would have wanted.”
Begonia chewed her lip, debating. “It’s probably not a good idea to hang out with a room full of drunk vampires anyway.”
“The ones I met seem really nice,” I said. Of course, you ply enough alcohol into anyone and he can become a complete monster.
“We’ll have to take you to the Spotted Owl one night,” Sophie said. “It’s owned by the hottest guy in Spellbound.”
Begonia clutched her chest. “An incubus. His brother owns the Horned Owl. They’re both divine.”
“No, Daniel is divine,” Sophie said. “The incubi brothers are panty melters.”
“True,” Begonia agreed. “But Emma already knows how divine Daniel is, don’t you?” She hip checked me.
“He is definitely…” I didn’t know how I wanted to describe him. “Not what I expected an angel to be like.”
With the procession finished, Begonia pulled me inside the coffee shop. We ordered three lattes, mine with an anti-anxiety boost.
“You know why Daniel’s fallen, right?” Sophie asked in a hushed tone.
“Not exactly.” We took a table by the window. The place was practically empty, probably due to the late hour. Most people were having cocktails now instead of coffee. My body, as always, cried out for caffeine.
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