by Amy Boyles
“You can do that.”
“How about I kiss you first.”
Heat flushed my face. “Betty’s inside.”
My grandmother had a nasty habit of jeering me about kissing Axel. I think she was getting in rib-jabbing time that she’d missed out on since we’d only recently met.
Axel leaned over and placed each hand on an opposite side of the swing, blocking my escape. “I’m glad she’s here. She can watch.”
And then he kissed me so sweetly my toes curled and I’m pretty sure my hair frizzed.
A few minutes later we were rocking side by side on the swing.
“I can’t even explain it,” I said. “If one person knew, then a thousand people did. It was like fleas multiplying. I’ve never seen anything like it. And what’s even stranger, is that I want to tell people that he’s here—I feel a weird compulsion to do that.”
“It’s the spell,” Axel explained.
He had his good arm wrapped over my shoulder. When I say good arm, that’s because only two weeks ago Axel had been shot in the shoulder with a silver bullet—a bullet that, if it had pierced his heart, would’ve killed him.
Yes, I realize a bullet to the heart would kill anyone, but Axel isn’t just anyone. He’s a werewolf. As it was, the silver in the bullet helped shift him back to his human form.
And was I ever glad for that.
Anyway, we sat on the front porch as the sun burned down the horizon. I wedged myself into the cup of his arm. He pulled me close as he brushed hair from my forehead.
“I take it you didn’t know anything about Donovan faking his own death,” I said.
“The last thing I knew was that we were burying him,” Axel said with a growl in his voice.
“You’re ticked.”
He ran his fingers through my hair. “Your hair is so silky.”
“Like in a commercial?”
“Better.”
I twisted to look at him. “Is that possible?”
“There are many soft things in life. Butter is one. Fried butter is a crunchy alternative. Have you ever eaten fried butter?”
My eyes flared. “I was just thinking about it today. Can you read my mind?”
He smiled. The corners of his blue eyes crinkled so deliciously. The dimple in his cheek popped, and my heart melted just like said butter. “Great minds think alike. What do you say we blow this joint, head on out to the Texas State Fair and have some deep-fried everything?”
I laughed and nestled back into him. “I think that would be deadly to my waistline.”
“Sweetheart, your waistline is perfect.”
Butterflies did jumping jacks in my belly. I glanced up at him. Axel studied me carefully. I noted the straight nose, the bow of his full lips and the line of his jaw. As the tension built between us, thick like a humid Alabama day, my gaze darted away.
I felt so much for him that sometimes the heaviness of it intimidated me, made my heart flutter and my head swim. I didn’t quite know what to think about it, and yes, sometimes running away was easier.
I didn’t say it was the best choice, no, but Axel was patient and I wasn’t going anywhere. I mean, I wasn’t leaving Magnolia Cove. I might go inside to Betty’s, but I wasn’t about to desert him.
I was thinking too much.
“But anyway, have you been down Bubbling Cauldron Road?” I said.
Axel nodded stiffly. He raked dark hair from his eyes. “They’re setting up for a party.”
“A party?”
“For Donovan,” he said.
Realization hit me. “That’s part of the spell that was put on him, I’m guessing?”
Axel quirked a brow. “Has to be. I don’t know where this Johnny Utah got the wizard or witch to work such elaborate magic, but whatever’s going on, it’s no secret to the town that Donovan’s alive.”
“But I saw Garrick and a bunch of police working earlier, right when Donovan returned. Before the entire population of Magnolia Cove stormed the store.”
It didn’t make sense that the police were setting up for Donovan’s party. What had they been doing?
Just then Garrick Young made long strides down the sidewalk. He took the porch steps two at a time and stopped right in front of us.
He removed his wide-brimmed fedora and fingered the edge. “I got a strange phone call today.”
“I’m sure you did,” Axel said. “That’s bound to happen when folks rise from the dead.”
“About that,” he said. “Donovan Craple is alive and well? Not buried up on the hill at Witch’s End Cemetery?”
“Apparently not,” Axel said.
“Is that some sort of crime? Faking your own death?” I said.
Garrick shook his head. “At this point I don’t know.”
“He didn’t collect insurance money,” I said. “At least I don’t think so.”
Garrick shifted his weight. He was tall-six foot five with a lean frame. He was strong, you could tell, but I wasn’t interested. Garrick and my cousin Cordelia were kind of a thing, plus Axel kinda got me in a super cool sort of way.
Garrick cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve got an entire town creating a party without filing for one permit. This party is going to be the size of a festival, and there’s a dead guy who’s not dead anymore holed up in your house.”
I flicked my flip-flop from my foot, letting it drop to the wooden floor. “I don’t think he’s up for a party.”
Garrick’s face fell. He pointed toward downtown. “Y’all can go tell all the folks hanging banners that. They’re creating a festival for a guest of honor, and if Donovan doesn’t show, I think that’s going to be one ticked-off mob.”
I tried to smile hopefully but I didn’t want to give Garrick any encouragement regarding Donovan attending, because he wouldn’t. He’d already said as much.
Axel took my hand and guided me off the swing. “Come on. Let’s figure this out, Garrick.”
We went inside. Donovan sat in the living room talking to Betty and my cousins Amelia and Cordelia.
“No, they call them giants, but they’re really not as big as you’d think,” Donovan said.
“Really?” Amelia said. “I thought Yeti were huge.”
Donovan cocked his head left and right. “I mean, maybe if you’re short, they’re tall, but under normal circumstances they’re not that big.”
Garrick cleared his throat. Donovan’s gaze swiveled to the officer and immediately landed on the silver star pinned to his left breast.
“You must be the new sheriff,” Donovan said, standing. “How’re you doing?”
Garrick shook and let his hand drop. “Not too well. I’ve got an entire town planning a welcome party for you, and rumors are circulating that you’re not going.”
“Oh that,” Donovan said. “I just don’t think it’s right for me to go.”
Garrick balked. “Right or wrong, the energy in this town is off the charts right now.”
“It’s the spell,” Betty said.
“What spell?” Garrick said.
Donovan ran a hand down his chest. “Someone placed a tracking spell on me so that they’d know if I returned to Magnolia Cove. I think it’s having some sort of weird effect. Now everyone in town knows I’m here.”
“But it’s also made them hyperexcited,” Axel said. “They all want to see you.”
“Darn right it’s made them hyperexcited,” Garrick said. “I’ve seen witches swinging from light poles this afternoon, shouting that Donovan’s back and they’re so happy.”
Donovan’s eyebrow shot up. “Really? That’s weird. I just wouldn’t think the spell would have that sort of effect on people.”
“Go downtown,” Garrick said. “You’ll see.”
Donovan shook his head. “I’d better not.” He crossed to the dining table and poured himself a sweet tea. Ice clinked as he filled a glass to the brim and pulled a long sip.
Garrick stepped forward. The wood floors creaked under his weight. Th
ere was power and intimidation in the way he moved. I’d never seen Garrick like that. I’d seen him angry. I’d even seen him ticked. But I’d never seen him like this. I felt he was close to bursting with frustration.
“You don’t seem to understand,” Garrick said. “You have to go to the festival, at least to show your face. Those people out there, they’re a powder keg. I don’t know what on God’s green earth has gotten into them, but if you don’t show your face, they will rip Magnolia Cove apart.”
“Prove it,” I said. I didn’t know what made me say it, and right after I challenged him, I brought my fingers to my mouth in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
“Let’s see if that’s true,” Betty said.
She clapped her hands. An image of Bubbling Cauldron Road appeared on the far wall of the room. On one end of the street was a park where a couple of months ago the Cotton and Cobwebs Festival had been held. Now there were streamers everywhere, pictures of Donovan plastered to light poles and people chanting.
Yes, chanting.
“Donovan! Donovan! Donovan!”
All of us stood silently watching the scene. Finally I glanced at Axel. “What’s going on?”
Axel’s gaze flickered to Betty and Donovan. “I don’t think that was a simple tracking spell that was put on you,” he said.
“What was it?” I said.
Axel’s face darkened. “It’s some sort of psychotropic spell. I think yes, there was tracking involved, but this sort of reaction, this mania shouldn’t happen. The entire town shouldn’t be demanding that you show your face, Donovan.”
Donovan took another deep drink from his glass. “I’m worried.”
“Me too,” Betty said.
“So am I,” Garrick said. “If they don’t see you, they will look for you and will tear this town apart to do so. That, I’m convinced of.”
“I can’t show my face,” Donovan said.
“Why not?” I said. “There’s no one here who’s going to hurt you.”
“But I’m afraid there is,” he said. “I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want anyone to be worried.”
“Who would be after you?” Betty said.
Donovan smoothed his thinning hair when he said, “I heard Johnny Utah sent a witch hunter to find me—and that hunter won’t stop searching for me until I’m dead.”
FOUR
“A witch hunter?” I said, a shot of dread tightening my chest. “Is that as bad as it sounds?”
Please don’t let that be as bad as it sounds. Please don’t let it be as bad as it sounds.
“It’s worse,” Betty spat. “For centuries witch hunters have tracked our kind—killing us in our sleep, when we’re awake, even while we’re riding our skillets.”
A wave of nausea knotted my stomach. “But a witch hunter can’t get into Magnolia Cove, right? Only witches and wizards can find this town.”
Everyone exchanged another look.
“I’m beginning to feel like there’s a lot of stuff y’all aren’t telling me, and if somebody doesn’t start talking, I’m going to be severely ticked off.”
Axel threaded his fingers through mine. “Sometimes witch hunters are witches.”
“Say what?” I nearly fell over from shock. “How can witch hunters be witches?”
Amelia folded her hands. “It’s like people eating people, isn’t it?”
“Cannibals,” I said, horrified. I swiveled toward Axel. “How can a witch hunt another witch? That makes no sense.”
“What in the world makes sense to anyone anymore?” Betty said. “Whole world’s upside down. Yes, witches hunt other witches for money. That’s a fact. It’s a horrific, unjustifiable reality of life. Witches hunt witches.”
I exhaled a staggering breath. “So what does that mean for all of this?”
Donovan grimaced. “I’m afraid what it means is that Johnny Utah wants me exposed. He wants me out in the open so that the witch hunter can kill me.”
I released Axel and reached for Donovan, wrapping him in a limp hug. I wanted to be able to give him some of my strength, but it was gone because the idea of a witch hunter terrified me.
Still, I stuffed my fear down to the very soles of my feet. “We won’t let that hunter get you. No way. You’re only just back from the dead, Donovan. You can’t leave us now. We’ll protect you.” I whirled on everyone in the room. “We’ll protect him. We have to.”
They all exchanged glances. Garrick strode forward. “We’ll protect you, Donovan. I’ll assign a couple of my men to you for the night—or as long as you need. I suggest you get to the festivities by eight. Otherwise the town will be destroyed by your fan club.”
Donovan nodded sheepishly. “Will do.”
Garrick exited the house, followed by Cordelia. I’m sure they were going to get some kissy-face time in. Go, Cordelia!
Once they were gone, Donovan turned to Betty. “I guess we don’t have a choice in this.”
Betty smirked. “Well, what did you expect when you asked the von Trapp Family Singers to sell you a vampire bat for a mafia man’s niece? A werewolf at that.”
Donovan deflated into a chair. He rubbed the glass of sweet tea along his forehead. “I should’ve known better, but the money was too good to pass up. Besides, the creature looked legitimate.”
Betty fisted her hands to her hips. “I’m sure it smelled legitimate, too. Did it also fart legitimately?”
Amelia laughed.
Betty turned to her. “No comments from the peanut gallery.”
Amelia raised her hands in surrender. “I’m going upstairs. I’ll see y’all when it’s time for the crazy party downtown.”
That left me, Axel, Betty and Donovan. Axel glanced at me. “I’m not so sure about tonight.”
Oh my gosh, in all the commotion I’d completely forgotten that Axel was taking me out—away from Magnolia Cove.
I glanced at Donovan. “Axel and I were going out of town—just for a few hours. Do you think I’ll be safe? I don’t know if Johnny Utah is actively searching me out or not.”
Donovan glanced at Axel’s biceps. “With him, I think you’d be safe just about anywhere.”
“Don’t stay out late,” Betty said. “There’s no telling what’s going to happen. With a witch hunter after Donovan, I’m worried about your safety.”
Axel raked his fingers through his dark shoulder-length hair. “They’re right. Until this is over, let’s just wait to leave town.”
Man, the one time I was going to get out of Magnolia Cove was squashed by werewolf mafia and a witch hunter dude. Well, I wasn’t going to let them rain on my parade.
I smiled brightly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
They stared at me until I cringed. “All right. I’ll stay in town where I’m more likely to be found by anyone who might be looking for me.”
“And protected by your family,” Betty said.
I clicked my tongue. “Yes, and protected by a grandmother who snorts magic from her nose.”
Axel left, and my hopes of ever getting out of Magnolia Cove for a night on the town, any town, crashed and burned.
I stretched my arms over my head. “I’m going upstairs to shower and get ready for the town party.”
I padded upstairs to Amelia’s room and knocked.
“Come in,” she said.
I found her standing in front of a jacket draped on a hanger attached to the top of closet door. My cousin bumped the jacket and pulled out what looked like a wallet.
“I came in to talk to you about Donovan, but I see you’re busy stealing wallets from inanimate objects.”
Amelia glanced over her shoulder and smiled. My cousin had spiky blonde hair, a lithe body and bright blue eyes that beamed at me.
“I’m learning to pick pockets.”
“Why?” I said, sinking a shoulder onto the wall.
She shrugged. “Because I thought it would be fun.”
“Sounds fascinating.”
“Pepper, you
never know when you might need vital information from someone.”
I quirked a brow. “I’m not convinced that’s the way to get it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Why don’t you just take someone’s wallet using magic?”
“Because that would be obvious,” she said, slipping the wallet back in the jacket.
“Right.”
She turned to me. “Here. Let me show you.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
She dragged me over. “It’s a great idea. Best ever.” She grabbed the wallet and slipped it in her back pocket. “Okay, say I’m your mark.”
“You’re my mark.”
“You don’t have to say it out loud.”
“But you said to.”
She smirked. “It was a figure of speech. Anyway, I’m who you’ve targeted. What I need you to do is bump me on my left side and then take my wallet on the right side. Be sure to add some pressure as if you almost made me fall over.”
I sighed. “Okay.” I wasn’t in the mood for this, but whatever.
So I did as she instructed. Bumped her on the left to gain her attention and then fished the wallet from her pocket.
“Wow,” Amelia said. “Have you ever done this before?”
I held the wallet up like a trophy. “First time.”
“You’re really good.”
I shrugged. “I guess I’m a natural.” I handed it to her. “But that’s not why I came in. What do you think about this whole Donovan mess?”
She tossed the wallet on her bed. “I don’t know. Seems like a big bowl of mashed up biscuits with gravy and eggs on top.”
“Hmm. That sounds good.”
She pulled a face. “It wasn’t supposed to. Anyway, the sooner he gets his name cleared with this Johnny guy, the better.”
“Yeah, I agree. But Johnny’s really kicked it up a notch by adding the witch hunter.”
“Sounds like something a werewolf would do. He can’t get to Donovan himself so he sent someone to do his dirty work for him.”
“It’s all a mess.”
Amelia studied me. “I don’t think you should be worried.”
I rubbed my shoulders. “Oh, I’m not.”
“We’ll protect you.”
