A few days passed and no one brought up the rapidly approaching Yule Feast. It would take place on the night of the Winter Solstice and was somewhat of a paranormal Thanksgiving, minus the football game. We’d all share a large feast, with an assortment of traditional dishes, and there would be music and dancing—and usually a fair amount of rum-laced spiced cider—to follow. The plans for the feast were already in the works, and while there was a lot to be done in the weeks leading up to the event, I was so busy that I didn’t have much time to stress out.
Thanks to the popularity of my potion business, I’d been able to drop back to three shifts a week at Siren’s Song, the local coffee shop that my best friend Cassie managed. Paisley, another girl who worked with us, had quit her part-time job at Thistle, the town’s natural grocery store, to take my full-time spot. Cassie’s younger sister, Kirra, also helped out while she was on winter break from the local community college.
Even with the reduction in my work hours at the coffee shop, I ended up working more hours overall as I spent my days off in the manor’s kitchen, whipping up batch after batch of my custom-blend potions. Saturdays were no exception, and with a steady rain thrumming away on the roof and windows, I was glad I didn’t have to hoof it the handful of blocks to Siren’s Song. Boots, my oversized tabby cat, was glad too. He liked having me around the house more often, although I suspected that had something to do with the copious amounts of treats I handed out to keep him occupied while I worked.
“One more, Bootsie, and then you’re officially cut off,” I said, dropping a round, kibble-sized treat to the floor beside my foot. I gave it a swift kick and smiled as he scrambled over the hardwood floors to track it down. I started cutting up my next batch of herbs, fresh from the greenhouse, and winced as I heard a solid thwap. I peeked over the counter and saw Boots shaking his head, apparently recovering from bashing it into a chair during his pursuit.
I sighed and grabbed another treat from the ceramic container beside the microwave and crossed the kitchen. I stooped down and fed him the new treat before fishing the lost one from behind the potted fern in the corner. “Bootsie, you really need to work on your course correction skills,” I said, stroking his silky head. “Poor little guy.”
A voice bellowed from the other side of the door, “Holly?”
“In here!” I called out, pushing off the floor.
Adam swept into the kitchen. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were working,” he said, eying the assortment of potion ingredients scattered over the L-shaped counter. My trusty green kettle simmered on the stove, warmed by a magically-enhanced blue flame that allowed perfect temperature control.
“Just trying to get caught up,” I said, going back to my cutting board. I continued chopping and dicing my way through a pile of rare mushrooms, not looking up even as I felt Adam’s gaze on me. “What are you up to?”
“I just finished a conference call with that media company I’ve been consulting for,” he said before dropping into one of the chairs around the farm-style kitchen table. I glanced up and saw him lean over and absently pat Boots on the head. A smile twitched at my lips. The two of them had become quite close over the past few months. “Did you know that we’re getting a new roommate?” he asked, looking up at me.
My knife went still, poised over the mushrooms. “No?”
Posy, the ghost that ran the Beechwood Manor, always made a point to hold family-style meetings whenever there were changes in our living arrangements. I’d just spoken with her over breakfast and she hadn’t said anything about a new roommate. Adam must have misunderstood.
“Why do you think we’re getting a new roommate?”
Adam straightened in his chair and Boots retreated to his cat bed by the back door. “I just saw someone in the sitting room talking to Posy, and noticed he had a big suitcase with him.”
“But we don’t have a room free. Unless someone is moving out. You don’t think someone is moving out, do you?” My eyebrows furrowed together and I set my knife down. I wasn’t going to be able to concentrate until I got to the bottom of whatever was going on. “You didn’t talk to him?”
“No, but I heard Posy welcome him to the manor.” He pushed up and crossed to the fridge. “I think she called him Harvey. Maybe he’s just a friend who needed someplace to crash for a night?”
My spine went ramrod straight. “Harvey?” I repeated, slowly turning on my heel to face him.
He gave a quick nod and pushed up from the chair. “Yeah. Some kind of goblin if I picked up the scent right,” he said casually before ducking into the fridge in search of a snack.
The knife in my hand clattered to the counter. “Bats!” I picked up the knife and tossed it into the sink before scrambling to clear away the freshly filled potion vials. If that was the Harvey that I suspected, I needed to get rid of any evidence. My potion making wasn’t exactly legal.
Adam whirled toward me, the fridge door slamming shut behind him. As I rushed around the kitchen hiding the proof of my work, he looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t have time to explain. Just—help! This all has to go away. Right now!”
Without further comment, Adam jumped into action and gathered up a basketful of vials and stashed it under the sink while I extinguished the flame under the kettle on the stove, slammed a lid over the contents, and swept the leftover ingredients into the trash can. Just as we got the counter cleared, the kitchen door swung open and, sure enough, Harvey Colepepper, my assigned SPA agent, was standing there, his elongated nose barely level with the counter.
He gave a sharp smile, his too-pointy teeth on full display. “Holly!”
Adam took a sidestep closer to me and the energy of the room shifted. His protective stance felt like a physical wave of air blowing through the room.
If Harvey noticed, he didn’t care. His smile remained firmly in place. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to think not-guilty thoughts. “Hello, Harvey. I wasn’t expecting you …”
He laughed, the sound deep and off-putting. I wasn’t sure what was more terrifying: Harvey when he was angry or when he appeared too happy. A dozen scenarios raced through my mind. Had one of my customers snitched on me to the Haven Council? Was Harvey here to drag me back to the Seattle haven and throw me back in the dank cell I’d had the misfortune of spending a night in over a year ago? Were there backup SPA agents out front, hiding in the hedges surrounding the property, or crawling through the woods out back? And somewhere amid all the other thoughts, one loomed more terrifyingly than the others: Had Gabriel managed to escape from prison?
A shudder passed over me and Adam set a large, steadying hand at the small of my back. Only then could I manage a full breath before asking, “What are you doing here? In Beechwood Harbor?”
Posy gave me a disapproving look. “Really, Holly. That is no way to talk to a guest. Mr. Colepepper is here—”
“Please,” Harvey interrupted, holding up a gnarled finger. “As I said before, you can call me Harvey. I see no need for such formality as this is not official business.”
Not official business? The words echoed through my head. Then what was he doing here? Sure, Beechwood Harbor was a lovely town, but it wasn’t exactly a top-ten destination. But then what was he doing here? Surely it wasn’t a social call. Harvey and I weren’t exactly friendly. He’d helped me out of my scrape back in the Seattle haven, but on the other hand, he was also the one who’d banished me from my home.
Harvey’s inky eyes shifted to lock with mine. I had the distinct feeling he was trying to decipher my thoughts. “I’m staying at the manor while I investigate a local SPA matter.”
A mix of confusion, relief, and anxiety coursed through me before colliding and forming a tight knot in my stomach.
“What kind of matter?” Adam asked, not bothering to introduce himself.
Harvey’s cold eyes flicked to Adam, who towered over him by at least three feet. If Harvey was intimidated b
y Adam’s size, he didn’t show it. His thin lips curled back into a sneer. “That’s none of your concern, Mr. St. James.”
Adam blinked and glanced over at me, clearly unnerved that Harvey knew his name. Was Adam on Harvey’s radar? And if so, was it because of me?
Harvey looked up at Posy, his expression thawing slightly. “May I be shown to my room?”
“Of course, Mr.—” she paused, before correcting herself, “Harvey. Right through here. We’ll take the stairs. I have a lovely room for you on the second floor.”
Harvey followed Posy, listening as she went on about the manor, but right before leaving the kitchen, he glanced back and circled the room with his beady eyes, as though looking for something out of place. He gave me a final glance and then he was gone.
I released a shaky breath and glanced down at the counter, only just realizing my hands were gripping the edge so tightly that my knuckles were white.
“Holly, who in the Otherworld was that?” Adam asked, keeping his voice low.
I forced myself to pry my fingers off of the counter and stooped down to grab the basket we’d stashed under the sink. “We need to get all of this out of here. Now!”
Basket in hand, I turned and spotted the kettle. “Grab that!”
Adam did as I asked and we scurried out the back door, making a beeline for my greenhouse. It was the one place that I knew Posy wouldn’t go when giving her standard tour of the manor and its grounds. The greenhouse was my space and she respected my privacy. I’d been the one to bring the space back from the dead when I first moved in and found it boarded shut, with caked-on dust and cobwebs coating every surface. I’d worked hard to put my stamp on it, and my roommates respected it as my own turf.
When we were inside, I shut the door and applied a ward, sealing it closed. I leaned over the central table, my chest heaving as my heart pounded frantically against it.
“Okay, Holls, what’s going on?” Adam asked. “Why are you so freaked out right now?”
I peered out the greenhouse window, staring up at the manor. A light shone from the window of the heretofore empty storage room that sat at the end of the hallway. When had Posy converted that to a guest room? And how?
Adam grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing my attention back to him. His eyes were wide but calm. “All right, gorgeous, I’m more than willing to help you if you’re in some kind of trouble here, but ya gotta fill me in. What’s going on? Who is that guy?”
I heaved a sigh and dared another peek over my shoulder at the window.
“Holly?”
“Sorry,” I said, returning my eyes to Adam’s. “Harvey Colepepper is my assigned SPA agent.”
“Okay? What’s the big deal? We all have one.” Adam shrugged.
I shook my head. “This is different. Harvey is different. He doesn’t like me.”
“Well that much was obvious,” Adam said. “What happened between the two of you?”
I sighed. “Remember when I told you that my SPA agent sent me here, to Beechwood Harbor, to keep me out of the reach of my crazy ex-boyfriend?”
Bats, my life sounded like a soap opera.
“That doesn’t sound that bad …” Adam said, arching an eyebrow.
“Well there’s a little more to the story ...”
Adam groaned and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I was afraid of that.”
“Harvey found out about my potions business, back when I was living in the Seattle haven. It’s technically illegal because it’s not registered. I’m not a registered potions master. So legally I’m not supposed to be selling potions to other supernaturals.”
“Holly …”
“I know! I know. It’s bad. But there was no way the Haven Council was going to grant me my potions master license after everything with Gabriel. I would have been hard-pressed to get one just because of my family name. But then, add in the part about being the ex-girlfriend of an aspiring dark wizard … you get the picture.”
“Okay,” Adam held up his hands, his eyes pressed tightly together for a moment. “So, you think he’s here to check up on you?”
I peeked past Adam’s broad shoulder and stared up at the manor. The light in the new spare bedroom had gone out. A tingle of fear slithered up my spine. “I don’t know. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he and the rest of the SPA were still investigating me to make sure I haven’t had contact with Gabriel.”
“Which you haven’t, right?”
I frowned at him. “Of course not!”
He held out his palms in surrender. “Okay! Just checking.”
I lowered my brows at him. “Bad time to open the ex-files, Adam.”
“Noted.” He gave a glimmer of a smile. “I know you love your business, Holly, so I’m not going to tell you to close it up, but maybe while your friend is in town, you should go on hiatus?”
“I can’t, Adam. I have so many orders that I’m barely keeping things in stock. If I take a hiatus now, I’ll lose out on all that business and I’ll have to explain why. Then no one will buy from me at all.”
Adam scratched his jaw. “Is there anywhere else you can work?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Evangeline will let me use the spa.”
“I’m sure she will. Then you can keep up with production, but we need to come up with another way for you to do your deliveries. We can’t have you running around town, toting vials of potions from door-to-supernatural-door. Whether Harvey’s here specifically to keep an eye on you or not, he’d probably notice something like that.”
I nodded. He was right. I’d have to be even more discreet than usual. I was used to flying under the radar so as to not alert Cassie or any of my other non-magical co-workers at Siren’s Song that I was a witch, or that the things that go bump in the night are real and living right under their noses. But Harvey wasn’t some blissfully unaware human. He knew what to look for. Especially since he’d caught me once before.
Adam reached out and touched my arm. “We’ll figure something out, gorgeous. And hey, worst case scenario, I’ll still come visit you in jail.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Not funny.”
Adam’s smile faltered. I knew he was only kidding, but the reality of it was still too close to a memory to make light of. I was playing with matches and had just stumbled into a very dry forest. A wildfire was almost inevitable.
CHAPTER THREE
Harvey stayed in his room for the duration of the night and didn’t even come down for dinner. That was probably for the best, since Adam informed me that I was terrible at playing it cool. His exact words were that I should ‘leave the acting to Evangeline.’ All of my potions were stashed away in the greenhouse, but I remained terrified that one of my customers would knock on the door, or that I’d left some empty vials scattered around and Harvey would pop out from a dark corner, waving them around with a smug little grin. Naturally, every scenario I imagined ended with me being led away in handcuffs.
Thankfully, none of my imaginings came true and the next morning, Evangeline gave me permission to use her supply room as my temporary potion kitchen after I hurriedly explained my dilemma over breakfast. “Of course you can use The Emerald!”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Evangeline. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Not a problem.” She sipped her coffee. “Also, and I’m just tossing this out there, if you ever need help petitioning to the Haven Council, I have a pretty killer lawyer who could work with you.”
“Really?” I’d never considered the option before. After everything with Gabriel and my subsequent banishment, I gave up on the idea of ever getting back into the Seattle haven again, let alone trying to apply for my potions master license.
“Sure.” Evangeline set aside her coffee and reached for her fork, digging into the pile of fruit on her plate. “He’s not cheap, but he’s one of the best in the business and would be willing to take the case if I asked.” She paused, her fork poised mid-air, and leaned forward in her seat. �
��He has a little crush on me,” she confessed.
I chuckled and shook my head. “Of course he does.”
She smiled and sat back. “Let me know if you want to meet him.”
“How much would it cost, do you think?”
She popped a piece of melon into her mouth and gave a little shrug. “Probably low-six figures.”
I tried not to choke on my coffee. “What?”
Evangeline cocked her head, as though she couldn’t understand my near heart attack.
“That’s way out of my price range. I mean, bats, Evangeline!”
Her brow furrowed. “You have your royalties from your share of the skin care line at The Emerald, your potion business, and then your salary from Siren’s Song on top of that.”
“All of which adds up to less than half of what I’d need,” I grumbled.
Evangeline’s face fell. “Oh.”
I sighed. “Is there any way you can sweet talk him into doing some charity work?”
Evangeline laughed softly. “Teddy’s not the type to do anything for free. But I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks,” I replied, trying to not sound too deflated. It was strange how I felt as though something had been stolen from me, when the option to take my case to the Haven Council wasn’t something I’d even considered twenty-four hours ago. But the idea of running my business within the haven system, with the almost limitless potential and reach I would have, was hard to ignore. There was also the bonus of being able to live my life without worrying about the SPA swooping in and carting me off to prison at any given moment.
“The skin care line is going well,” Evangeline added conversationally. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we sold twice as much next year.”
I forced a smile as I gave her a nod, but my stomach twisted into a tight knot. If Harvey found out I was running my potions business, he’d not only shut me down, but Evangeline could potentially get dragged into the crossfire because some of my potions were sold out of her shop. Then she’d need her lawyer friend for her own defense. I hated the idea that I could be putting her in danger. We’d become good friends after initially getting off to an awkward start to our relationship. I didn’t want to get her in trouble or risk losing our friendship.
Witch Slapped: A Beechwood Harbor Magic Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Magic Mysteries Book 3) Page 2
