Dead and Breakfast

by Lily Webb

  I understood perfectly, and suddenly everything clicked into place: why I didn’t recognize her right away, why our family refused to talk about her, and why they’d concocted a lie about her dying. For their own sakes, maybe they even convinced themselves that she’d died that night. After all, how could they explain to anyone that they had a gender-bending sorceress in the family who also drove a flying VW station wagon?

  Had my family written her out of their lives for being a witch, or for being a woman? Maybe both? I couldn’t say, but I knew immediately that I wanted to learn everything about Blair and her magical life. At first, I’d found her strange, but now I found her endlessly fascinating.

  “Well, it should be smooth sailing from here until we get to Mount Starcrest, so sit back and enjoy the flight,” Blair said, as if her car floating through the air were the most normal thing in the world.

  I couldn’t help laughing. My aunt was a witch with a flying car, and she was taking me and my best friend to her magical bed-and-breakfast somewhere deep in the mountain ranges of Colorado.

  Could things get any weirder — or more amazing? I couldn’t wait to find out.

  Chapter Four

  Several hours later, as the sun disappeared behind the mountains surrounding us, a massive peak appeared on the horizon. Blair turned down the radio and pointed in its direction. “There it is! Mount Starcrest.”

  I didn’t need to ask how the snow-capped spire had earned its name. It reached so far up into the sky that its gravitational pull seemed to hold the stars faintly sparkling in the surrounding gloam in orbit. Just above, at the mountain’s zenith, one star glowed so brightly that people on the ground could probably see it from hundreds of miles away.

  “It’s stunning,” I whispered as I drank in the majestic sight. “Is that the North Star above it?”

  “Not exactly,” Blair said, her eyes twinkling like the stars dancing around the mountain. “That’s the Veil’s Eye. Ancient magical populations believed it was the point through which spirits in our world passed to the afterlife. It works similarly to the North Star, though. We can always count on it to lead us home.”

  “Is that how you knew where to fly?” Jadis asked.

  “Yes, love, though the car has its own magical kind of GPS and autopilot, so that helps on nights when the Veil’s Eye isn’t clear,” Blair confirmed. “Now, we’ll be landing shortly, so make sure your seatbelts are fastened because it’s probably going to be a bumpy landing. This old car doesn’t handle like it used to.”

  As Mount Starcrest continued to swell and cover us in its massive shadow, I checked my seatbelt and reached for Jadis’ hand again. I was so thankful to have her with me, if for no other reason than I knew not a solitary soul would believe me if I told them what I’d seen.

  For her part, Jadis looked ecstatic, which wasn’t surprising given her penchant for the mystical. Did she feel like she was finally coming home too? Maybe her tarot cards were on to something.

  But if Blair could use magic, and she was my aunt, did that mean I could use it too? I couldn’t help wondering if that was why Blair had come to “fetch” me, as she’d said in the café when I first met her. Nothing remotely magical had ever happened to me in my life, though, so I wasn’t sure; nothing had ever spontaneously combust while I was upset, nor had I ever gotten flashes of people’s thoughts or any of the other stereotypical “happenings” I’d seen on TV and in movies.

  But as we swept around the side of the mountain, what I saw cleared my thoughts. Down in the darkened valley, dozens of lights from snow-covered cottages in neat rows glimmered, revealing a tiny mountain village. Smoke trailed from their chimneys like signals guiding us, and Blair navigated the car carefully through the mountains down toward the surface.

  We bounced to a stop on a cliff overlooking the village, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as Blair warned us it would be; our boxes didn’t even shift from the impact. I glanced out the window to get a better look at my surroundings, and through a soft sprinkling of snow falling outside, a castle-like building with gothic architecture towered over us. It rose at least six stories high, and snarling stone gargoyles sneered down at me from each of its four corners.

  “Is that… Kindred Spirits?” I asked through a sudden chill.

  “It sure is,” Blair said, and pointed out toward the end of the driveway at a sign swinging and creaking from a post that bore the inn’s name with the same ghost logo I’d seen on Blair’s business card.

  “Oh. It’s, uh, not exactly what I expected.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I rarely think of castles when I think of bed-and-breakfasts. They’re usually, I dunno, homier and more welcoming than this.”

  “We can’t always judge a grimoire by its cover, love,” Blair said.

  The huge front door of the inn opened, spilling light across the snow-dusted grounds, and a tall, thin woman Blair’s age with electric blue curls that bounced with each of her steps appeared. She bounded down the drive toward the car in lavender robes and a giant, oval-shaped pair of tortoiseshell glasses that made her blue eyes seem as wide as sapphires in the faint light of the moon.

  “Oh, hell’s bells, looks like we’ve ruined the surprise for Kiki. Oh well,” Blair said and switched off the car. She opened the door to meet Kiki, and a gust of cold air swept through the cabin, giving me the shivers.

  “How was the flight?” Kiki asked as she wrapped her arms around Blair and pecked a kiss on her cheek, leaving behind a sparkling blue ring from her lipstick.

  “Perfect,” Blair said, and gestured for Jadis and I to get out of the car. Despite the chill, I climbed out and smiled at Kiki. “Kiki, this is Selena, though I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that. Selena, this is my wife and your other aunt, Kiki.”

  “Hi,” I said and waved awkwardly.

  “Oh, don’t be silly. I’m a hugger. Get over here!” Kiki said and pulled me into a squeeze so tight that stars popped in my eyes. “I’m so glad to finally meet you, sweetie.”

  “Thanks; likewise,” I squeaked. She released me and I gestured to Jadis. “This is Jadis, my best friend. I thought I might want some familiar company, and that you might need another set of hands to help with the busy season.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you. It’s nice to meet you too, Jadis,” Kiki said and pulled her into a hug too, though Jadis seemed far less uncomfortable with it than I did. When they broke, Kiki twisted a lock of Jadis’ lavender hair between her thumb and forefinger. “I love your hair. You’ll have to do mine like that sometime.”

  Blair rolled her eyes. “Kiki changes her hair color more often than she changes her robes. I call her Kiki the chameleon,” she said, and Jadis and I laughed while Kiki scowled at her.

  “Blair’s just jealous that she doesn’t have any hair left to dye,” Kiki shot. Blair gasped and rested a hand over her heart in faux injury.

  “That’s not true. I wear my hair short by choice.”

  “Whatever you say, dear.”

  Rolling her eyes, Blair wrapped an arm around Kiki’s waist, pulling her close to place a kiss on top of her blue hair. “Anyway, sometimes when our given families reject us for who we are, we have to go out there and make new ones. So welcome to our supernatural sisterhood, girls. We’re so happy to have you both.”

  Looking at Blair with her arm around Kiki, I still couldn’t believe she was alive all this time — and that my parents had lied to me about her. Why would they ever want to keep someone so beautiful and amazing from me? I couldn’t understand, and I doubted I ever would.

  And I loved what she’d said about finding a family that loved us for who we were. My parents had always wanted me to follow in their footsteps, and when I’d told them I didn’t think I could be a doctor, they’d been disappointed, but I’d offset it by going to nursing school instead — until that blew up, too. Truthfully, I’d wanted none of it. I would’ve much rather spent my days making enough money to get by doing what I loved if that
meant I could follow my heart, but that was never an option for me… Until now.

  “Anyway, let’s get inside before we all catch a chill. It’s much cozier around the fire,” Kiki said and pulled a long, thin strip of wood from her robes.

  Jadis leaned over and hissed, “Is that a wand?!” in my ear, but I could only shrug. Kiki waved it in the car's direction, and as if by, well, pure magic, the trunk opened itself and our belongings came soaring out like Kiki had pulled them out on an invisible string.

  “Come on, girls,” Blair called and waved us toward the inn. “We’ll make sure your things get to your room. Is it okay if you share one?”

  “Doesn’t bother me,” I answered.

  Jadis shrugged. “Me neither.”

  “Good, then it’s settled. You’ll be up on the third floor. I’ll show you where it is, but first, are you hungry? It smells like Emile, our house chef, just finished making dinner for the other guests, and if I know him half as well as I think I do, I’m sure he’s made more than enough for you too.”

  “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten anything all day,” I said, realizing just how hungry I was as the smell of something hearty and delicious drifted out the front door.

  “Me too,” Jadis agreed.

  “Excellent. This will be a good time to introduce you to the other guests, too. There aren’t many staying with us right now, but I’m sure that will change the further we get into the busy season. Anyhow, this way,” Blair said and led us through the huge front door of the inn.

  We entered a huge, stone-floored foyer flanked on either side by spiral staircases that led up to the first floor and beyond. Wrought-iron railings with decorative carvings snaked upward along with the stairs, and at each end of the handrails sat a pair of small, demon-like creatures. Pointed tails curled around the statues’ clawed feet and their wily, eerie smiles revealed tiny, razor-sharp teeth.

  Between the staircases, and beyond a massive room-heating fire burning in an equally large iron brazier in the center of the foyer, an old-school elevator waited. Its golden, art déco style grate sparkled in the light from the fire and the dozens of candles dripping wax from their holders in the twin, iron chandeliers hanging high above.

  To the right of the elevator stood a small chest-high desk with a surface made of marble. A small lamp on the upper portion cast soft, warm light across the lower, illuminating a pearlescent, old-school telephone complete with a rotary dial, and stacks of envelopes and assorted papers, no doubt associated with the management of the inn.

  Despite the cold, gothic look of the place, I thought it had a certain charm to it, and the gleeful look on Jadis’ face said she thought the same thing. I hadn’t known what to expect when I agreed to come and work at Kindred Spirits with Blair, but it wasn’t a medieval castle.

  “The kitchen is to the left,” Blair said, and gestured down a stone hallway in that direction, though I probably could’ve figured that out just by following the scrumptious smell of whatever the chef had prepared. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I picked up hints of baked crust and gravy. “It looks like everyone’s still eating, so that’s perfect.”

  “I’ll join you in a moment after I take your bags upstairs and make sure your room is ready,” Kiki said, “But don’t wait for me to eat. You must be famished.”

  “Thanks, Kiki. Come on, girls,” Blair said, and we parted with Kiki. She ascended the stairs while our boxes bounced in the air behind her like the balloons at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, and I still couldn’t believe the sight.

  We followed Blair down the hall, past more floor-to-ceiling oil paintings in immaculate golden frames and ancient tapestries on the walls than I could count, until we reached a set of timber double doors that hung wide open. Inside, a gnarled, knotted wooden table stretched the length of the room with at least three dozen matching chairs on both sides. The sight stunned me. How many people could the inn accommodate?

  Judging from the few people I saw sitting at the far end, it didn’t seem like there were many guests at the moment, which was a relief. The day’s events had already bowled me over, so I didn’t know how much energy I had left for socializing.

  But when we stepped closer, I stifled a gasp. These guests weren’t normal — they were paranormal.

  A blonde-haired woman in flowing black robes who looked a few years older than me sat hunched over an ancient, yellow-paged book with a wand in one hand and her spoon in the other. A delicious looking bite of pot pie steamed on the spoon, making my mouth water, but I could barely concentrate on the food when the woman waved her wand and the book’s pages shuffled as if a strong breeze had blown through the room.

  Beside her sat another woman in similar black robes, but I couldn’t see any details of her face because she’d wrapped it entirely in bandages. She mixed the contents of her plate with her spoon idly, like she’d lost her appetite. As if she’d sensed me staring, she looked up and locked her haunting gray eyes on mine, and I diverted my gaze quickly.

  On the opposite side of the table, an impossibly short old man sat shoveling his dinner into his mouth. Bits of the food dribbled from his mouth and dangled in his grizzled gray beard that draped to the floor like a curtain. A hammer as tall as the man rested on its wide, square iron head beside him, and he never took his free hand off its leather-bound handle.

  “Imps coming through!” a high-pitched, otherworldly voice squealed, and I screamed as something whizzed by my ear into the room. A pair of what I could only describe as twin demons, identical except for their bright red and blue heads of spiked hair and linked by their knotted tails, hurtled through the air toward the head of the table, cackling and squealing the whole way. They crashed onto the table and sent the bandaged woman’s plate crashing to the floor. It shattered against the stone floor and the food splashed up onto her clothes, making her howl in fury.

  “Oh, for Lilith’s sake! Lox! Keez! How many times have I told the two of you to stay off the table?!” Blair shouted and dashed toward them. The little demons flapped their gravy-coated, leathery, bat-like wings furiously, like flies stuck in vinegar as they tried to take off again, spraying gravy everywhere, but it was futile. They rose a few inches and collapsed, one on top of the other, and their maniacal laughter filled the room.

  “What are those things?” I whispered to Jadis, and she chuckled.

  “I’m not sure, but I think they’re imps. They’re sure acting like it.”

  “Imps? What the heck are those?”

  “Mischievous little demons that like to play pranks and cause chaos.”

  I gulped. So, they really were demons. I didn’t have a clue how Jadis knew that piece of paranormal trivia, but I didn’t doubt her; it was exactly the sort of thing she’d be interested in, which made me even more grateful she’d come along.

  Disgusted and covered in gravy herself, the bandaged woman shoved back from the table and stormed out of the kitchen. Her shoulder connected with mine on her way, knocking me into Jadis.

  “Tara, wait, please don’t go! You’ve got to meet our new staff,” Blair called after the woman, but she vanished around the corner and her hurried, angry steps down the hall convinced me she wouldn’t be coming back — or at least not tonight.

  Angry, Blair reached into her robes for her own wand and pointed it at the imps. “Capto!” she shouted, and a shimmering, golden netting shot from the tip of her wand. It landed on the imps, pinning them to the table. Their wings buzzed furiously like fireflies trapped in a mason jar, but all their effort got them nothing.

  “For the last time, out of the kitchen!” Blair shouted. She jabbed her wand at the two of them. “Evanesco!” she barked, and with a pop that echoed throughout the high-ceilinged kitchen, the bundle of writhing, cackling imps vanished. Sighing, Blair turned to us and massaged her forehead. “I’m so sorry about them. They never miss an opportunity to make a scene.”

  “W-Where did they go?” I asked.

  “Back in the basement where
they belong with all the shiny knickknacks they’ve stolen.”

  “Good riddance,” the short man grunted in a gravelly voice and went right back to eating like nothing had happened.

  A whizzing sound tore through the room and a tall, ghostly-white man with bloody eyes and black hair tied up under a chef’s hat appeared next to Blair. “What in Lilith’s name is all the commotion?” he asked in a thick French accent and took in all the mess. “Was it those bloody imps again?”

  “Who else?” Blair asked. “I’m sorry, everyone,” she told the other guests, and waved her wand again. The mess vanished, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  “Oh, my goodness, please excuse my poor manners! You must be the newest additions to the Kindred Spirits family,” the pale man said, and in the blink of an eye he stood right before me with a spindly fingered hand extended. “Bienvenue. I’m Emile, the inn’s honored chef.”

  Reluctantly, I took his hand and gasped at its frigidity. “N-nice to meet you. I’m Selena. This is Jadis, my friend.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Emile said and kissed the top of my hand. “Please, have a seat. It would thrill me to serve you both.” Without waiting for an answer, Emile disappeared again, only to reappear a split second later with two plates piled with steaming, healthy servings of pot pie.

  Emile set the plates on the table and Blair pulled out a chair for each of us next to the blonde witch who seemed not to have been at all disturbed by the dust-up with the imps and who still couldn’t bother to look up from her book to acknowledge us.

  “Before his, erm, transformation, Emile was a world-renowned vegetarian chef in Quebec. We’re beyond lucky to have him here with us now.”

  Even more excited, I sat down and dug into the food. It was some of the best I’d ever tasted; the crust was perfectly gold and flaky, and the medley of vegetables inside were crunchy without being too hard.

  “Oh my God, this is delicious,” I mumbled through a mouthful, and Emile beamed, revealing pointed incisors. The sight made my heart drop even more than his unnerving red eyes. Was he… a vampire? Was that what Blair meant when she said he’d undergone a transformation? It would explain his unnatural eyes and his inexplicable body temperature, and the way he could so quickly zip around the inn.