Crazy For Brew

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Crazy For Brew Page 6

by Annabel Chase


  He wiggled his hips and danced his way to the next tombstone. "This is Jake Wells. He was a pretty miserable satyr. He was always yelling at kids to get off his lawn and threatening to hire witches to cook them in his stew."

  I grimaced. "How awful."

  Igor did a little tap dance on the patch of grass in front of the tombstone. "Yep. That's why I like to do a little jig here every night, right on his front lawn." He shrugged. "Nothing he can do to me now."

  "Enough with the history lesson," Gareth said. "Ask him about the ingredients.”

  I turned to look at him. "Why? Do you have somewhere better to be?"

  Igor craned his neck to see past me. "Who are you talking to?"

  "Do you remember Gareth?” I asked. “He was the town’s defense attorney before I arrived.”

  Igor brightened. "Of course I do. The Scottish vampire, right?"

  "That's right," I said. "He lives with me as a ghost."

  "Technically, you live with me," Gareth said.

  I ignored him.

  "Man, is he really here behind you?" Igor peered into the darkness. "You were one good-looking dude. Really smart, too. I always wanted to go out with you, but you were engaged to that siren chick, Alison."

  Gareth squinted. “He’s gay?"

  “Even if he hadn’t mentioned dating Zane,” I said, “I think the Piña Colada Song should have been a dead giveaway."

  "I've always had a thing for the brainy ones,” Igor said.

  I whipped around to see Gareth's reaction. He was gazing at Igor with a hint of sadness and regret.

  "I came here to ask you a couple of questions about your recent purchases at Mix-n-Match," I said.

  Gareth jostled my elbow. "Hold on. He was in the middle of saying something important.”

  "You were the one who wanted me to get on with it," I said.

  "You mean the fizzlewick seeds and rhudoberry?" Igor queried.

  "Yes," I said. "I hate to be nosy, but would you mind telling me what you did with those? I don't know many vampires who dabble in witchcraft."

  Igor sat atop Jake's tombstone and kicked his legs. "I dabble in a lot of things. You tend to develop a lot of interests when you've lived for hundreds of years and work the night shift.”

  “I didn't get the impression that you’re a regular customer," I said. "So that leads me to believe that this wasn’t a typical purchase for you."

  "You're right. It wasn't." He regarded me carefully. "Do you promise not to tell anyone?"

  "That depends," I said. "If it's connected to any sort of crime or is harmful to anyone, then I’m obligated to report it as an officer of the court.”

  Igor gave a crisp nod. "I understand. I don't think that’ll be a problem."

  "Ask him if he likes Yeats," Gareth called over my shoulder.

  I twisted to look at him. "Later, Gareth."

  If you need my help, Sedgwick said, those bombs can be away at any time now.

  I glanced skyward and could just make out Sedgwick’s silhouette circling above us. Please don't. Fly over to the woods there. I pointed away from the cemetery.

  Igor gingerly hopped on top of the tombstone and began leaping from headstone too headstone with the grace of a cat. He was impressively nimble.

  “I’ve been having trouble staying awake at night,” Igor admitted. “I’ve been trying to regulate my system, so I can keep sleeping during the day and working at night. If my sleep rhythm changes, I’ll have to switch jobs, and I don’t want to give this up.”

  “A vampire can lose his sleep cycle?” I asked. “I would think you’d have a harder time staying awake during the day.”

  “Boyd says it’s some kind of imbalance,” Igor said. “It can happen with age.” He performed a backflip off the headstone and stuck the landing. “We can’t all age as elegantly as Gareth.”

  “Technically, you don’t age at all,” I said. “Part of the whole vampire thing.”

  “We age in our own way,” Igor said. “My older brother’s developed reflux. He gets it every time he drinks blood.”

  Ha! Served him right for being a menace.

  “I’d prefer you not tell anyone about my issue,” Igor said. “It’s a little embarrassing to have to take a tonic to sleep through the day…as a vampire, anyway.”

  "I appreciate your honesty," I said. "And I love that you found a way to make your job so fulfilling." Everyone should be so lucky.

  Igor lightly touched my arm. "Say, do you think you might ask Gareth if he'd come to visit me here when I'm working? It would be nice to have some company once in a while."

  "You won't be able to see him unless you use a psychic," I said. He could try Kassandra, although I thought she bordered on high maintenance.

  Igor shrugged. "I don't necessarily need to see him, although that would be nice. As long as I knew he was here, we could sort of talk to each other."

  I glanced at Gareth, who nodded. "He has ways of letting you know when he's around," I said. "He's getting better at manipulating physical objects."

  Before I could say anything else, Gareth walked over and lifted the shovel from the ground. He brought it over to Igor and I watched the younger vampire as his lips curled into a vague smile.

  "Pandora, can you play Macarena?” Igor said.

  "Who's Pandora?" I asked.

  "That's what I named my magical sound system," he said.

  The music swelled, and I watched as Gareth and Igor danced their way around the cemetery with a shovel between them. It was adorably weird.

  Come on, Sedgwick, I said. Let's go home.

  I sat patiently in the waiting area, stifling the wave of yawns that threatened to drown me. I was still tired from my late night in the cemetery with Igor. At least my therapy sessions didn't involve physical activity. I could relax in the comfy chair and simply talk.

  Inside Dr. Hall's office, I heard a cacophony of sounds. Under normal circumstances, I might rush in to investigate. Knowing Dr. Hall, however, the vampire therapist was probably dispensing her particular brand of wisdom. Her methods were not everyone's cup of tea, but they seemed to work for me.

  The door finally opened, and Dr. Hall ushered me inside. "What are you still sitting out here for?" she snapped. "You know I don't tolerate tardiness."

  I opened my mouth to object but quickly thought better of it. I followed her inside and immediately spotted a trail of broken glass in front of the bar. I shot her a quizzical look.

  "Problem?" I queried.

  She followed my gaze and laughed dismissively. "No, no. I was trying something out for a client. Rage therapy. I think it helped." She placed her hands on her hips. "You can do magic. Whip up some spell that gets rid of this mess. I don't want to step on a shard."

  "I think I can handle that," I said. As a sorceress, I didn't have to use a wand, but most of my training came from the coven, where wands were their bread and butter.

  I aimed my wand at the glass and said, "I'm incredibly tired, but I digress/focus my magic and clean up this mess."

  The glass dissolved without a trace. I curtsied before sitting in my usual chair.

  "Don't get too full of yourself," Dr. Hall said. "Nobody likes a know-it-all."

  I sat in the chair and drew my knees to my chest. "Could I get an extra pillow? My back is a little sore today."

  Dr. Hall tossed me a pillow from the sofa, and I shoved it behind my back. "You have to lift with your knees," Dr. Hall said. "Everybody knows that."

  "I wasn't lifting," I objected. "I'm getting use to sharing a bed with Daniel. His wings are huge. I'm left with a sliver of the bed, and I end up not moving in the night. So I wake up stiff."

  “Try sleeping on a bed of nails, then talk to me about stiff and sore.” Dr. Hall retreated behind the bar and began to mix two cocktails. Many residents frowned upon her unorthodox treatment, but I found that enjoying a drink during our session relaxed me. I peered at the bright orange liquid in the glasses. "That's not our usual."

&n
bsp; "No, I was in the mood for something different. These are called Twisted Panties. Lord Gilder gave me the recipe. Such a thoughtful boyfriend.”

  "How’s that going?" I asked. I had a hard time envisioning Lord Gilder indulging in a recipe called Twisted Panties. The elegant vampire was far too polished.

  Dr. Hall handed me the drink and settled on the sofa opposite me. I gave it a tentative sip.

  "I taste lemon," I said.

  "It's that perfect combination of bitter and sweet," Dr. Hall said.

  At the mention of bitter and sweet, I stiffened. The movement did not escape my therapist's notice.

  “What did I say?" She asked. "You'd better drink up, missy. You’re wound tighter than a hangman’s noose.”

  I took another sip, and this one went down easier. "It's nothing. I'm investigating an issue, and the spell I’m researching is called Bittersweet."

  Dr. Hall clucked her tongue. "Why are you investigating again? I thought we decided to leave that sort of thing to the sheriff and her deputy. Eyes on your own paper, Hart."

  "I know, I know," I said. "But Astrid doesn't think there's a problem. She's overwhelmed with all of the changes in town. I think under normal circumstances, she’d take it more seriously."

  "Does it bother you that she’s brushing you off? Sheriff Hugo used to do that."

  I shrugged. "Not really. I understand her point of view. I happen to be seeing the effects firsthand, whereas she hasn't witnessed any of it."

  Dr. Hall tucked her legs under her bottom. "What are you seeing firsthand?"

  I explained to her about Begonia and Mayor Lucy's odd behavior.

  "And you think someone did this to them?" she queried.

  "Only certain paranormals seem to be impacted," I said. "I'm trying to find the common denominator. At this point, I have no idea what the motivation is. I've already ruled out one suspect. I have another to interview later today.”

  "Are you sure you’re not using this as a diversion?" Dr. Hall asked.

  I balked. “A diversion from what?"

  "Name it. Your new marriage. The fact that your mother was a Warden of the West who was indirectly responsible for the town’s curse."

  I wrapped my arms around me. "My marriage is perfect, thank you very much. And I don't have any guilt about my mother's role either. She was doing her job. Raisa was to blame for what happened."

  I'd learned through a series of letters that my biological mother had been a Warden of the West, responsible for tracking down paranormal criminals and bringing them to justice. The Wardens served under a paranormal organization called the Agency of Magical Forces. They had four branches: Warden of the West, Sentry of the South, Keeper of the North, and Enforcer of the East.

  "And how was your honeymoon?" Dr. Hall asked. "I assume you consummated the marriage. What was that like—losing your virginity at such an old age?"

  I slapped my hands on the side of the chair. "I am not of old age. And that is personal information."

  Dr. Hall looked at me, perplexed. "And what do you think we discuss in here? How to solve a Rubik's cube? That's all we discuss is personal information. So what was the problem?"

  "There was no problem," I said heatedly. "It was blissful. We talked about disappearing to an island and never coming back."

  "You'd never do that," Dr. Hall said dismissively. "You love it here too much."

  She knew me too well. I loved Spellbound far too much to ever leave permanently. Although some residents had opted to move elsewhere once the curse was broken, most paranormals seemed eager to stay. They were just happy to be able to come and go at will.

  "And how’s the situation with Gareth?" Dr. Hall asked. "How are he and Magpie adjusting to the new living arrangements?"

  I took another drink before I answered that one. "You know Gareth. He likes things a certain way, and Daniel is a bit more laid-back."

  "And that creates conflict," Dr. Hall said. "How are you resolving it?”

  "One day at a time," I said. "They’re both set in their ways. It's not like I'm going to change either one of them overnight."

  “Or at all. They need to find common ground," Dr. Hall said. "Something they can agree on, whether it be a shared interest or a favorite activity."

  "I'm pretty sure I’m their only shared interest," I said. "I keep talking to Gareth about boundaries. He’s still haunting the bathroom at inappropriate times. Last week, he floated in while I was in the bathtub with Daniel. We were all equally mortified."

  Dr. Hall shrugged. “Sounds like a good Saturday night to me.” She set her empty glass on the coaster on the coffee table. “I think you need to focus less on whether your friends are cranky because of some spell. Maybe you’re looking for problems that don’t exist, so you don’t need to face your issues at home.”

  I considered her feedback for a brief moment before dismissing it. There was no way Begonia and Mayor Lucy’s changed personalities weren’t the result of wrongdoing. If I didn’t act quickly, their poor behavior wouldn’t just be a problem for their existing relationships—it would be a problem for all of Spellbound.

  Chapter 7

  Greta Maywood lived in the Pines, where most of the werewolf pack resided. The house was easily located, a clapboard cottage nestled between two larger houses. There was no answer when I rang the bell, although the front door was open, leaving only a screen door between the house and me.

  “Greta?" I called. There was no response. I heard the sound of laughter in the distance and decided to check around back. I peeked around the side of the house and saw six wolves running around the open acre behind the house. Although there were ordinances in place that restricted shifting, they didn't apply to one's own property.

  Five of the wolves were on the small side, so I assumed that Greta was the sole large one. I went and stood at the fence, enjoying the scene as the wolves frolicked in the grass, tumbling and play fighting. After a moment, Greta sniffed the air and turned her head in my direction. I waved and hoped she didn't mind me trespassing.

  The wolf trotted toward me and began to shift. Front legs became arms. Hind legs became human legs. Fur receded. By the time she reached me, Greta was fully human and naked. She grabbed a tattered white robe that hung on the fence post and slipped it on. I figured she kept it there for exactly this reason.

  “I'm so sorry to interrupt," I said. "Are you Greta?"

  The woman shoved her hands into her robe pockets. "It depends. Who's asking?"

  “My name is Emma Hart," I said.

  Greta's eyes widened. "The Emma Hart?”

  “Well, I don't know if I need an article in front of my name, but yes, that's me."

  Greta burst into a nervous smile. She jerked her head toward the backyard and yelled, “Kids, come here. Y'all want to meet this special lady. She's the reason we can go visit our cousins in Shifter Falls."

  Five wolf pups shifted into children. Three boys and two girls. Like their mother, they seemed unconcerned about their nudity. On the one hand, I thought that was a healthy attitude. On the other hand, I felt uncomfortable talking to five naked children. I averted my gaze and said, “Are there any robes for the children?"

  Greta laughed. "They have clothes in the house. We don't tend to be modest in our own backyard."

  "Would you mind if I did a quick spell to clothe them?" I asked. "Just for my own comfort level."

  "Suit yourself," Greta said. "I'm sure the kids will think it's pretty cool to get clothes from someone famous."

  I produced Tiffany, focused my will, and said, “Water ripples, wind blows/give these lovely children clothes.”

  Five children expressed excitement as they examined their covered bodies. The youngest, a little girl, gaped at me in horror.

  “This is a dress," she exclaimed. She held out the billowing pink skirt.

  Greta smiled. "Tara don't do fancy."

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. It wasn't deliberate." I aimed my wand and swapped the pretty dress for cotton
shorts and a T-shirt. Tara shot me a grateful smile.

  "That's better," the little girl said. "Don't want to be showin’ anyone my underpants.”

  “This lady is the sorceress responsible for breaking the curse," Greta said.

  The oldest child, a boy, rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you already said that, Mama. What else?"

  Greta ruffled his hair. "What else? What else do you need? Do you have any idea how hard that was? How powerful she must be?"

  "I had a lot of help," I said. "I can't take all the credit."

  "I like your hair," the other little girl said shyly.

  My hand flew to touch my head. "Really?" Gareth would have a good laugh about that later. He was forever mocking my frizzy dark hair.

  “I do," the little girl said solemnly. "It reminds me of a frightened raccoon."

  "Raccoon?" another boy repeated. "Raccoons aren't black, you nitwit."

  “No," the little girl said. "They’re grey and black and she's got both colors, too."

  I was beginning to regret my visit.

  "Kids, why don’t you go inside and fetch the nice lady a drink?" Greta said.

  “It don't take five of us to fetch one drink," the oldest boy said stubbornly.

  Greta fixed him with a hard stare. "You mind me, Troy, or your father will hear about it when he gets home." The five children scurried into the house through the back door. Greta gave me an apologetic look. "Sorry about that. We try, but they’re not the best at minding their manners."

  “They’re kids," I said. “They have plenty of time to learn."

  “So what brings you to our neck of the words, Ms. Hart?"

  "I understand you bought some items from Mix-n-Match recently," I said. “Fizzlewick seeds and rhudoberry.”

  Greta’s expression changed from pleasant to alarmed. "Why would you need to ask about a thing like that?"

  Her reaction was worrisome. “Any chance you’re familiar with a coven spell called Bittersweet?" I asked.

  She scratched her thick head of hair. "No, can't say that I am. Is that why you’re asking about those ingredients?"

  “Would you mind telling me what you needed them for? I don’t associate them with shifters." To be fair, I didn’t associate them with anything because they were unfamiliar to me, but Greta didn’t need to know that.

 

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