1 Scared Witchless

by Amy Boyles

  "She doesn't know us, does she?" Sera mumbled.

  "Okay. We can do that," I said.

  "Did you do that when you were frozen?" Reid asked.

  I smirked. "No one did that to her."

  Sera tilted her head. Her bob haircut sashayed back and forth. "Yeah, it just happened."

  At that, Grandma laughed. All heads turned to her. "Frozen states can occur for a number of reasons. For instance, they can happen because the witch is undergoing a growth of power."

  "Huh?" Reid said.

  She patted Reid's cheek as if she were dumb. "Like a caterpillar in a cocoon. The caterpillar goes into stasis, which it must if it's going to become a butterfly. A frozen state does the same thing. So if a young witch receives a surge of magical ability, she will often freeze for a while, until her body has adjusted to the new power. Otherwise…"

  "Otherwise?" I asked.

  Grandma shrugged. "She might explode. I've seen it before. Not a pretty sight. Gore and body parts everywhere. Yuck."

  "Yeah, yuck," Reid said.

  "So then why did you freeze? Is that what happened to you?" Sera asked.

  Grandma laughed. "No, of course not. I'm too old to undergo a surge of ability like that. No. My chrysalis occurred for a different reason entirely."

  "And what was that?" I asked.

  "I was experiencing a power drain. Quite the opposite. I needed to conserve and regenerate what I had."

  "A power drain?" I said. "How does that happen?"

  "There is a finite amount of magic in the universe. Magic is physics based, from what I understand. It can't be created or destroyed, only transferred into something else. It's possible there was a witch vampire trying to drain my power, or that I simply needed to reenergize. I'm not the first person this has happened to. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about it, but I knew at some point I would awaken. Or at least I hoped so." She stood up in a whirl of fabric and pearls. The powdery smell of her wafted up my nose, reminding me of the comfort she'd given me my whole life. "But that's enough talk for tonight. Now it's time for bed."

  "Grandma," Reid said, "did you put yourself into the cocoon?"

  Grandma tittered again. "Of course not. I couldn't do that. It's very dangerous, and only someone I trust could put me under."

  "Well, who did it then?" I asked.

  "Some nice young witch who was new in town. Said she could help me out."

  "What?" I asked. "I thought you said only someone you trusted could do it?"

  Grandma shrugged. "She seemed trustworthy."

  "She might have been the person draining you. Where was Milly?" I asked.

  Grandma sighed. "I don't know. We were in a fight at the time."

  "So you let someone you didn't know, and haven't seen since, put you under?"

  "Of course."

  Of course. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. And so were hordes of flying monkeys. I rubbed my nose. A burning thought tugged at the back of my mind.

  Grandma tee-la-la'd off to bed, leaving the three of us alone.

  "You thinking what I'm thinking?" Sera said.

  "Yep." I clenched my jaw. "We find the person who put her under, and we've got our killer."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The next day was filled with fixing the fireball stain on the ceiling of my shop and catching up on work I'd ignored for the past week. I also called Carrie and reminded her we'd be opening tomorrow.

  "I've been so bored this week," she whined. "I'll be in after I get my doughnut and coffee from Sera's."

  "See you then." I scrolled down my phone, glancing at the mountain of calls that had been transferred from the store phone to mine. So many people had been disappointed that we'd closed during the week, and between attempting spells, I'd had to call and apologize to folks, promising a free pair of panties when they came back in.

  Don't judge. Panties were cheaper than shirts. I couldn't exactly afford to give away my best stuff, but some underwear I could part with.

  I yawned, stretched my arms and settled into bed. My mind churned with thoughts. To settle it, I flexed my witch muscles by moving a pen from my nightstand into my open palm. After a few minutes of that, I was tired enough to fall into a dreamless sleep.

  ***

  I, too, liked to grab a coffee from Sera before opening. So the next morning I showered and got ready. I kissed Grandma on the way out and managed to avoid getting sucked into a conversation about winged monkeys.

  The first thing I noticed was that Roman's car was gone. I'm sure that was thanks to Grandma's off-the-rails behavior at dinner the other night. When I thought about, I didn't remember seeing him the day before, but I'd been distracted with phone calls and paint.

  My gut twisted. Next time we met, I needed to apologize. I didn't think the assassin would be particularly forgiving, but you never knew. According to my grandmother, monkeys could fly, so nothing seemed out of the realm of possibility.

  Sera and Reid had taken my car, so I walked into town. It took less than twenty minutes to reach the center of Main Street. I stepped inside an empty Sinless Confections.

  Reid wiped down the counter with a pink towel.

  "Morning," I said. "Where's Sera?"

  Reid pointed out the window. "Talking to the assassin."

  I glanced over, and sure enough, Sera sat in Roman's car. They looked to be in deep discussion. My heart sank. So that was that. I don't know why it hurt my feelings. I was happy for my sister. She deserved to be in a healthy, good relationship with anyone other than Tim. Heck, even a slug would have been a step in the right direction.

  A few minutes later Sera returned. She kept her head down, as if she was embarrassed about talking to Roman. It's not like I cared, because I didn't.

  "Hey," I said. "Since we have a few minutes, do you want to try that thing that Grandma told us about? Imagine the killer and they'll show up?"

  Sera hooked a red apron over her neck and tied the back. "Sure. Let's do it. The early morning rush is over. I've got a few minutes before the next wave pops in."

  So we closed our eyes and concentrated. "Reid, this is just me and Sera."

  Reid raised her hands in surrender. "I wasn't doing anything. I wasn't going to screw it up."

  "Good," I said.

  She stuck her tongue out at me.

  "Mature."

  I closed my eyes and focused. A current of air sprang up beside me. The magic tilted and pivoted, funneling around my body. My hair rose; my clothes lifted. My head swam in the energy of the thing. It pushed and pulled, sending my stomach rolling. The urge to vomit crept up my throat. Right as I felt I needed to break from the spell, or whatever it was, the wind stopped dead.

  I cracked one eye. "Did we do it?"

  Sera shrugged. "I guess we'll find out."

  I turned to my youngest sister. "Reid, did you see that tornado?"

  "What tornado?"

  "Didn't you feel the wind?" I asked.

  She wiped down the cash register. "Nope. I just saw you two standing in the room like a couple of dopes."

  "Thanks," Sera said. She tugged on the end of her short ponytail. "Do you think our growing power caused it?"

  I walked behind the counter and poured myself a cup of coffee. "No clue. Hey, do you have any chocolate I can put in this?"

  Sera pointed to a bowl. "I keep some shaved right there."

  I opened the lid and forked out several pieces, swirling them in my cup. Nothing like a little bit of cocoa in my java. I sipped. "Yum. Perfect."

  Reid settled her chin in her palm. "Don't mention it."

  "You didn't do anything," I said.

  She gave me a smug grin. "I know. I just like to take credit for things."

  "Good morning!" a voice boomed from the doorway.

  I held my breath. This was it. This was the person we'd been waiting for, the one who wanted to kill me and presumably my sisters. I pursed my lips and pivoted toward the door.

  Carrie waved. "What's
wrong with y’all? Look like you've seen a ghost."

  My heart deflated. My magic-making abilities were so hit or miss. Float to the sky—hit. Try to see a killer—miss.

  "Morning, Carrie," I said.

  She frowned. Her eyebrows knit together in worry. "I told you I'd stop by here first to get my coffee. Was I supposed to be at the store already?"

  I shook my head. "No. Why?"

  "Because you're looking at me like I'm in trouble."

  I shouldered my purse and tugged on the end of my high ponytail. "No, you're fine. I'm just feeling a little weird. You know, opening the store when a girl was killed in it, and all."

  Carrie peered over the counter. "Can I have a donkey tail and a to-go coffee?"

  Reid pulled a sheet of paper from the dispenser and bagged the sugary treat.

  "I know. It's so awful. And just think, I almost touched that dress. It's a good thing my nails still needed some curing."

  I glanced at the pink polished beauties. "Nice color choice."

  She beamed. "Thanks."

  I fished the keys from my purse and handed them to her. "Go ahead and open up. I'll be there in a sec. There's something I need to discuss with Sera."

  "I have to make more coffee for you anyway, Carrie. I'll send it over with Dylan," Sera said.

  Carrie tossed her locks over one shoulder. "Okay. See you in a bit."

  When she'd gone, I slid onto one of the red bar stools at the counter. "Well, I guess that didn't work."

  Sera trashed the old grounds from the coffeemaker and got it ready to make another pot. After pouring coffee and water in the contraption, she hit the Start button. "Maybe it'll be the next person who walks in."

  I shook my head. "No. I don't think it worked." I sighed. "I don't know that I've got what it takes to make it in this witch business."

  She stared at me as if I were crazy. "Grandma woke up from a deep freeze batty as ever, and Milly's got a personality like a cheese shredder. And you don't think we're up to this? You can take that bad attitude right out of here."

  I slapped my knee. "You're right. If those two have survived this long, there's no reason why I can't."

  The industrial coffee machine finished, and Sera filled a to-go cup. She set it in front of me and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We'll get the hang of this. Hey, we've survived a week since Reagan's death. Surely we can last a few more days till the solstice."

  "I guess," I grumbled.

  The bell above her door tinkled. We glanced to see who it was. My lifted spirits crashed and burned in a fire fueled by gossip and slander. Jenny Butts, her Marilyn Monroe curls extra tight this morning, sauntered in.

  She did that arm-pump thing she does when there's extra-exciting news to talk about. "Y'all. Y'all. Y'all."

  I rose. "Hey, Jenny. Bye, Jenny."

  She scowled at me. "Where are you off to in such a hurry, Dylan Apel?"

  "Uh. Work. You know, that thing most of us do Monday through Friday?"

  Jenny rested her weight on one hip. "Very funny. I know all about work. I do it nearly every day."

  "So I see," I said.

  She beamed at me. I tried to smile back, but it came out queasy and phony. I hoped she'd take the hint that I wasn't interested in anything she had to say. But she didn't. Instead Jenny took mine and Sera's hands and formed a circle. What was this—ring-around-the-rosy?

  "I hope you're excited about being honorary guests for the solstice."

  Crap. I'd forgotten all about that. My dress for the occasion had been used as a weapon to kill someone, and now I was being honored at the dinner? With all the other craziness going on, that made perfect sense.

  "Jenny, that is so nice of you," I lied, "but I don't even know if I'll be going."

  She splayed a perfectly manicured hand over her heart. "Of course you'll be going. You're my honored guests."

  "Jenny," I said. "The dress I designed for the banquet is the one Reagan died in. I'm not exactly feeling up to attending."

  She brought her hands to her cheeks. "Oh no! It was?"

  "Good going," Sera murmured.

  "Yeah. Now the entire town will know," Reid said.

  I shot Reid a look that said shut it.

  "Well, they will."

  The mechanics in Jenny's brain spun so fast she didn't even notice we'd been talking about her. "What? That's the dress she died in? No one said anything about that." She grabbed my wrist. "Dylan, you have to tell me everything."

  I flipped my wrist and glanced at my watch. "Oh dear. Look at the time. I must be going. The store's about to open, and I'm afraid it's going to be absolutely swamped today." I skirted toward the door, my sandals clicking on the tile. "Thanks so much for the invite, but I don't think I'll be going to the banquet this year. Toodle-oo!" I waved and ran off.

  Of course, Sera had warned me months ago that she was helping with some of the catering, so I had to attend. However, with the way things were playing out, I was banking on the fact that she'd take pity on me and let me off the hook. Since the banquet was the night of the solstice, and the next most likely night that someone would try to kill one of us, I figured a huge crowd that I could be lost in was the last place I needed to be. Wouldn't it be better for me to stay at home, all by myself, with Grandma and Nan for company?

  On second thought, maybe I would go.

  I stepped onto Main. The turquoise awning of Sinless Confections shielded me from the already scorching June sun. Good thing I only had a couple of steps to my store. Summer in Alabama was not fun, to say the least. I had already put the Mouth of the South (aka Jenny Butts) behind me and was ready for a fabulous day at Perfect Fit when I heard—

  "You! You killed her!"

  My heart flopped to my feet. I stopped and turned toward the voice. Harry Shaw teetered down the sidewalk. A ten o'clock shadow sprouted from his chin. I know it's normally a five o'clock shadow, but this beard had been left to weed for a week too long. Purple circles ringed his eyes, and his clothes looked like they'd been thrown to the ground, stomped on, and then put back on.

  I knew it was futile, but I gazed around to see if possibly, by some slim chance, Harry meant someone else had killed Reagan. Since I was the only person within fifty yards, all guesses were on me.

  He pointed at me. Well, that solved that mystery. "You killed her." He clutched a whiskey bottle. The fat glass looked like a pretty useful weapon for him to use, given the circumstances.

  I backed up, raised my hands. "I didn't do it, Harry. I would never hurt Reagan. You were going to be married last Saturday."

  "You killed her!"

  Doors creaked open. People stepped into the street. I expected someone to intervene before he whacked me over the head with the bottle, but all they did was stare. Was this high noon at the O.K. Corral? What was wrong with people? I was a freakin' damsel in distress. Didn't anyone want to be a hero?

  Then I realized—I can vanish the bottle. But that meant doing magic in front of people. I'd be boiled alive if the council caught me. "Harry, you need to calm down. Listen to me. I didn't hurt Reagan."

  "Why haven't they arrested you? You said so yourself; you and she were mortal enemies."

  Uh-oh. I had said that, hadn't I? Well, it had been true in high school, at least.

  As Harry plodded forward, I retreated. For every one step I backed up, he stumbled forward two. In three seconds flat he towered over me. The stink of his sour breath caused the ends of my hair to frizz.

  Kidding.

  He raised the glass. My heart thundered against my ribs. I had no choice. I had to do something. I needed that bottle out of his hand.

  "You killed her and you have to pay!"

  I scrunched up my face and imagined the bottle in my hand. I focused hard, giving it all I had.

  The whiskey slipped from his fingers. It fell to the ground in a mess of shattered slivers.

  "Huh?" he said, staring at it. "I don't need it anyway."

  T
hen he lunged. For me.

  I crouched down, ready for the impact. The lone card in my hand had been played. I was out of options.

  Crack! I opened my eyes. Harry lay flat on his back. Roman stood over him, his fist red. A black shadow smeared his face.

  "Next time you try to hurt Dylan, you'll get a lot worse than a busted lip."

  Sitting at Roman's feet, I felt I was looking up at a god. Wind rippled through his yellow-streaked hair, while his black T-shirt strained to contain his muscles. Honestly I wouldn't have been surprised if they ripped right on through. And I wanted them to. All Roman needed was a cape and a hammer and oh my God, he'd look like Thor. I almost died.

  He held out his hand to me and smiled. I floated away to la-la land, forgetting my own name.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yes?"

  "Did he hurt you?"

  I shook my head. I was drifting in a dream, having been saved by a green-eyed god.

  A frown of concern crossed his face. "Did you hit your head?"

  What's my name again? "I don't think so."

  I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me up like I was nothing more than a feather. Roman gazed into my eyes. I thought he might kiss me. After all, he'd just saved me from a potential murderer.

  Roman thumbed my eyelids up.

  "Ow." I swatted him away. "Why're you doing that?"

  "Making sure your eyes dilate."

  "Why?"

  "I'm not convinced you don't have a concussion."

  I wrestled from his steel arms and placed a fist on my hip. "I didn't hit my head, and I don't have a concussion. Thanks anyway."

  "Hey, anytime." He gave me a crooked grin.

  From the concrete, Harry groaned and rolled to one side. "What happened?"

  Before either one of us answered, a police car bleeped its siren and came to a screeching halt in front of us.

  "Looks like they're here to arrest you, Harry," I said.

  "For what?" he moaned.

  I smacked my lips. "My first guess is public intoxication. The second would be attempted assault. But I'm no expert."

  Detective Blount exited the vehicle along with another officer. He walked over to us, his hands in his pockets, his head low. "We heard there was a commotion out here."