Poison and Pinot

by Samantha Silver

  Poison and Pinot

  California Witching #2

  Samantha Silver

  Megan Marple

  Blueberry Books Press

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Also by Samantha Silver

  Also by Megan Marple

  About the Authors

  Chapter 1

  Salty sea air, crystal-blue water lapping at my feet, and a lovely woman with dark, wavy hair placing a lei of brightly-colored hibiscus flowers over my head...

  At least that's what I imagined when I thought of Hawaii. The closest thing I had in front of me, however, were the dozens of scented candles labeled with names like 'Warm Beach', 'Tropical Sunrise,' and the line of cute little Hawaiian hula dancers swaying back and forth with their arms out at their sides, all along one of the front windows of the shop. The tiny solar panels at their bare feet took in the bright sunlight and made them move without even needing batteries. Whoever had come up with that particular idea was a genius, as far as I was concerned.

  I had to hand it to my boss and landlord, Barbara Dunham. She knew exactly what kind of kooky things her customers liked. From solar-powered hula dancers, Napa Valley-themed keychains, and collectible snow-globes, to vintage French prints, goofy garden gnomes, and a showy variety of hats—she had it all. All within the small shop where I was currently left to my own devices.

  Creekside Trinkets had its share of busy hours where it seemed like everyone from Rosemary Creek poured into the little souvenir shop, whether to pick up a little knick-knack like one of Barbara's famous, delicious-smelling candles, or to stay a while and simply gossip. Barbara used to have a part-time employee named Ruthie, but after declaring her need to retire from retail for good, Ruthie left those busy hours to me and Barbara.

  I did everything I could to keep busy: sweeping the entire store only to decide that the office could use some tidying up, taking some Windex to the front display windows, even reorganizing all the bills in the cash register so that each one was facing up and to the right. It was no use. I had nothing else to do.

  It was pointless to feel guilty—I wanted to be of use to Barbara in any way that I could, even if it meant standing as a placeholder at the store. But I was worried that if I stood around at the front counter much longer, I'd fall asleep in a puddle of my own drool.

  And here I thought being a new witch was supposed to be exciting.

  Pulling out a brand-new leather-bound book, I flipped open to the last page where I'd scribbled some notes down. Of course, I could also just try out some spells and see what happened.

  A haphazard sketch of flames in the corner of the page drew my eye, but even I had to squint just to read my own handwriting underneath them.

  "‘Incenderoa’ will ignite a flame on the object you focus your energy on. Be careful because the object does not necessarily have to be flammable,’" I read quietly to myself, following the words with my finger.

  The scent of the beachy candles caught my attention and I smiled, knowing exactly how I was going to test my newfound powers.

  I took the glass lid off of one of my favorite candles, the lavender "Mists of Lilac," and set it aside to place the candle on the ground in between aisles. Worst case scenario, I'd just have to buy it myself and work on it more at home.

  Leaning over the candle, I focused the pulsing energy that was always lying dormant somewhere inside of me, visualizing it moving outward through me, and targeting the white candle wick. A tiny flicker of heat tickled the palms of my hands as I set my shoulders back and none-too-quietly commanded, "Incenderoa!"

  What I expected to be a small lick of a flame quickly grew to engulf the entire candle in an instant, causing the glass to crack along the sides of the jar as it heated up.

  "That’s not good," I muttered, my stomach dropping.

  I pushed myself away to stand up just in time for the whole thing to break open, only for the small flames that overtook the candle to make their way across some kind of invisible line that led up the swiveling magnet display. I let out a small squeal of panic as I watched the bottom of the display start to melt, the flames leaping higher and setting bright and colorful magnets in the shape of California on fire. All the talk of wildfires spreading like crazy had nothing on these magical flames of mine. I grabbed my spell book from the floor not a moment too soon.

  "Oh no, oh no, oh no," I panicked, flipping through the pages as fast as I could. "I could really use a good spell right about now, book." Not even Barbara would forgive me for burning down her shop!

  The colorful blue waves I'd drawn underneath the words Water Spell thankfully caught my eye, and I read over the words in a blur, my mouth drying up from the acrid smell of burning plastic in the air.

  I imagined the water from the Hawaiian beaches I'd been daydreaming of earlier, and taking a deep breath cried out, "Undaroa!"

  I let out a startled yelp as a true, foamy wave came rushing over the scene from some invisible source above. Clear, salty water crashed through the aisle, drenching everything, including me. It sluiced down the vinyl floor at the very edges of the shop, and I turned back to see the flames had gone out but left behind a very charred-looking section of the aisle. Even the floor itself resembled burnt-out charcoal. I let out a groan.

  A high-pitched beep-beep went off above me and I looked up just in time to see the store's sprinkler system going off, spraying all of the open shop area with chilly water. I groaned even louder as the few parts of me that weren’t already soaked became drenched with water, and went to hide in the office, where luckily there was no sprinkler to ruin our ancient store computer.

  "Practice your magic, Taylor. It'll do you some good, Taylor. You have to learn somehow, Taylor," I mumbled. Barbara was always pushing me about how there was no better way to learn magic than to apply it practically. Of course, she always mentioned the part about being supervised just in case, but that was neither here nor there.

  "Is everything all right, dear? I thought I heard the fire alarm when I pulled... oh, my."

  Barbara was in the short back hall, holding some kind of box with a handle, her piercing eyes taking in the sight of me sitting drenched inside the office. She looked into the shop, her eyes widening even more.

  I wanted to crawl in a hole and possibly live out the rest of my life there. "I'm so, so sorry, Barbara," I began, the lump rising in my throat. "I can help pay for it. Take it out of my paychecks."

  She slowly stepped into the storefront, her hands clasped in front of her over the royal purple cape coat she was wearing. Even from behind, I could see the tension in her shoulders as she walked over to the scene of the crime. My crime.

  She raised her hands out in front of her, took a deep breath, and began speaking one of the most involved spells I'd heard yet.

  Suddenly, the scene in front of me began to blur, the water receded until the floor was completely dry again, and the charred, melted displays erected themselves back up until they were spotless just like before. Even the floor showed no signs of damage. I hurried over to her, my jaw practically dragging on the ground.

  "How did you-" I trailed off, too impressed to actually finish the sentence.
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br />   Barbara glanced over her shoulder at me with a knowing look. "While I applaud your initiative in working on your magic during your downtime, I will kindly advise you to pay special attention to the words I say when I talk about specific spells. And also, maybe wait until either Karen or myself are around when practicing with dangerous elements such as fire.” My goodness Barbara was a total saint. Her soft voice didn’t betray any sort of anger or resentment at the fact that I’d basically destroyed her store.

  Relieved, I nodded. "Yes, absolutely. No more combining fire and magic. At least not on my own, anyway. You'll have to teach me that whole thing you just did, one day, though. That was amazing!"

  The corner of Barbara’s mouth quirked up, bemused. "Perhaps, eventually. But for now, let's settle for a simple drying spell."

  Once Barbara had shown me how to properly dry myself without needing a change of clothes or even a towel, I made a mental note to ditch my hair dryer the moment I got home. It always wrecked my wavy red hair, anyway.

  "It's been pretty slow today," I admitted as we stood behind the front counter, restocking the assortment of crystal-beaded bracelets we carried.

  Nodding, Barbara rearranged the small wicker basket of pins, switching it with the other small wicker basket of individually-wrapped gourmet chocolates. "I figured it would be. Every time I find a lost soul, it seems to be the case."

  "A lost soul?"

  Barbara smiled. "I almost forgot to mention it to you. Give me just one moment," she murmured, edging away from the counter and heading back toward the office area.

  I never knew what to expect when Barbara started talking magic—which was what I assumed she meant when talking about souls. My imagination started taking over as I wondered what she might have to show me. Was I going to see a ghost for the first time? Or maybe aliens were actually real. But as she walked carefully back up to the front, carrying the same box I’d seen her with when she first came in, I raised an eyebrow. Surely, ghosts wouldn’t stay in a box, and if it was an alien, they were a lot smaller than I was expecting. It took me a second to realize the box in question was actually a small animal crate. Two little reflective eyes peered up at me from the shadows of the crate, surrounded by dark fur. Definitely not a ghost, or an alien. I recognized this little guy, no problem.

  "Oh my gosh!" I squealed, laughing as Barbara sat the crate on top of the counter and gently opened its door. She reached in and pulled out a little ball of black fluff, handing it over to me.

  The kitten scrambled in my hands, its tiny little sharp claws immediately digging into my apron and hanging on for dear life. It whimpered and mewled, but gave up when I cuddled it against my face, the soft fur tickling my nose.

  "He's so cute! Where did he come from?"

  "I heard him while I was packing groceries into the car this morning. I followed the sound and found him tucked up under the dumpster behind the market. Poor little thing was abandoned, it looks like. See how he's skin and bones? I was going to bring him home with me but I realized it made more sense to take him over to Gilly Mills. Actually, Taylor, dear, would you mind doing that for me? I have loads of paperwork to go through today."

  I rubbed the little white spot on top of the kitten's head and grinned. "Looks like we're going on a road trip, little guy!"

  Chapter 2

  Even though I still felt bad about accidentally setting Barbara’s shop on fire, my day was definitely looking up as I scratched behind the kitten's soft black ears. He couldn't have been more than six or seven weeks old. Old enough to see, but still definitely too small to take care of himself.

  With the sweet thing curled up in the hoodie I'd laid out in the passenger's seat of Barbara's car, I drove off to Gilly Mills animal sanctuary in much better spirits. Being allowed to drive the Lexus for the first time certainly didn’t hurt, either.

  Pulling up outside the animal shelter, I waved over at Karen, my best friend and roommate. She was outside hauling a huge bag of dog food over her thin shoulder and taking it around the back of the building. "Come on cutie pie," I crooned at the kitten. "I know just where to take you." He batted at my finger as I picked him up, his tiny little eyes following my every move.

  Karen grunted with effort as she slid the bag of dog food onto the bottom shelf in the pantry, wiping at her for head. "It’s food day," she explained before she realized I wasn't alone. "Oh my gosh, who is this?" she squealed, immediately sticking her hands out in front of her, clutching at the black ball of fur in my hands.

  I smiled but reluctantly handed him over, not really wanting to let go of him just yet.

  "Your mom found him behind the market. He was abandoned, so she thought it would be a good idea to bring him here."

  "Smart woman. Come on, let's take him into the isolation room so the vet can get a good look at him. Dr. Marston is supposed to be coming by on Wednesday, but maybe he can drop in a bit earlier.”

  I nodded. "Good, I was hoping this cute little guy would get a good check-up."

  Karen led me back through the winding hall before opening up a door that led into a small room which reminded me of a doctor's office. The room boasted a stainless-steel examination table next to an open counter where a scale stood. Next to it were a few clear jars filled with both dog and cat treats, the walls around us covered in diagrams of animal anatomy and signs telling the employees to make sure their hands are washed at all times.

  "Is this it?" I asked Karen, but she shook her head.

  "No, this is the examination room, where Dr. Marston looks over the animals. Maybe even one day," she trailed off with a wink.

  I already knew what she was going to say. "I haven't even started classes yet, girl. Let me at least get through my first semester of vet school before we start talking career moves here."

  "Oh please, Taylor. You and I both know that you are just dying to get in here. I see it on your face every time you drop by. Which you do pretty often, come to think of it. You don’t even get paid for it and you're still here. I'm just saying, Dr. Marston has been hinting at retirement soon. We’re definitely gonna need someone to step up once that happens."

  I rolled my eyes at Karen, but I was secretly pleased. I'd only recently decided that I wanted to go the full route to becoming a licensed veterinarian and not just a veterinary assistant.

  "Yeah, yeah. Like I said, let me just get through the classes first."

  Karen shrugged. "If you say so. Isolation room is right through here."

  She opened the door that led into another small room, this one with three large crates lined against one wall, and five smaller crates on the wall opposite. Different sized leashes, collars, and harnesses hung on the wall above them, next to a huge painting of the animal sanctuaries logo —the silhouette of a hound dog and small cat leaning against one another.

  "Oh Karen, do we have to?" I whined as she opened one of the smaller crate’s doors and carefully placed the kitten inside of it.

  "Yup. It's for his own safety, don't worry. We'll make sure he's taken good care of. Hey, you haven't been back since we redid the cattery, have you?" she asked, her brown eyes lighting up.

  "No, I don't think so. You were still working on it the last time I saw. So, it's all fixed up, then?"

  Karen yanked my hand, practically dragging me behind after her. "Let me show you! We got a pretty nice donation from someone last month and it helped speed things along. We just finished up the day before yesterday, actually.”

  She opened the door to a larger room with a shiny royal blue floor that went perfectly with the freshly-painted white cat kennels situated along the walls and in the middle of the room itself. Each kennel was part of a grid of four, with the smaller ones being lined against the walls, and the bigger ones in the middle. To our immediate left was a large window pane where the staff could look in on the cats whenever they needed to from the main hallway that led out of the lobby area.

  Apart from the kennels, where cats could go in and out for some peace and qu
iet, was basically cat toy heaven. Small mice made of felt were spread haphazardly across the floor, scratching posts abounded, and carpet-covered pieces of wood of various sizes had been placed in odd intervals along the walls, allowing the cats to jump from piece to piece as they pleased. A little tunnel along the floor began to move slightly, betraying the presence of a feline friend inside.

  I smiled as I looked at the closest kennel, where a smaller cat was lying rather cozily against the fencing, snoozing away in the small patch of sunlight filtering in from outside. "Well, they seem pretty happy."

  "I think we all are, to be honest. These poor guys didn't have nearly as much room before we started the renovation. We had about what, something like six or seven kennels? Now we have enough for every one of the cats to have their own kennel. I mean look at that," she said, pointing to the larger kennels in the middle the room. "They have so much more space now. Oh, I almost forgot!" Karen pointed to a large red button by the glass window. “This is a really cool fire-safety feature. You hit the button and all of the kennel doors open up at once. If there’s ever a fire or anything like that, we can get the cats out of the kennels really quickly that way. The dog kennels work the same way, both indoors and outdoors. It cost a lot to upgrade, but our donor really wanted it, and we all thought it was a really good idea.”

  “That is really cool,” I agreed. “Isn’t there a saying about herding cats though?”

  “Definitely, and trust me, it’s not just a saying,” Karen said with a bit of a smile. “Luckily, this week we’ve only had two intakes, including your little guy. There are fourteen other cats here, already. Hopefully the adoption fair coming up next month will help find some of these little guys a new home.”