The Halloween Love Spell

by Morgana Best

  “Oh dear,” Ruprecht muttered to himself beside me.

  “I can’t see how doing a spell for my plant, even if it had the same name as you, somehow summoned you,” I said in disbelief.

  She shrugged one shoulder. “You used my old blue ceramic potted plant holder. Just before I passed on from this life, I magically imbued some of my items, hoping that they would be sold on after my passing and end up in the hands of witches who would use them for spells. My intention was that the witch would revive me without knowing it. Of course, I didn’t realise I would be so lucky to have a Dark Witch actually summon me by name.”

  Ruprecht and I exchanged glances. This was all a horrible spiritual mix up, albeit one that had worked in Jasmine’s favour.

  I wondered what would happen next, but I didn’t have long to find out. Jasmine muttered an incantation. I felt myself fading away from the others. I saw Ruprecht open his mouth in slow motion.

  Jasmine’s bony fingers closed around my arm, and then everything went black.

  Chapter 17

  I woke up, slumped over the table in the back room. It took me a moment to remember what happened. I looked up at Jasmine, who was standing in front of me. She seemed to me to be the very embodiment of evil.

  The room spun around me. It was like I was in the eye of the cyclone, the calm in the centre of a magical storm. The swirling energy around me was weirdly colourful. It reminded me of the colours in a large soap bubble, changing from blue to green, from green to yellow, from yellow to violet.

  “What did you do?” I asked her. My mouth was dry. I had difficulty speaking the words.

  “I simply blocked them out so we could have a little talk,” she said in a cold tone. “The spell you did summoned me, but I’m sure I’m only here on a temporary basis. I need you to do another spell to make me permanent.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure I get your meaning. You want me to summon you back to life? To make you, um, real?”

  She sighed as if I were a particularly dense idiot. “I am real. You summoned me, you fool. I should have known I wouldn’t get any sense out of the Spelled family.” She put her hands on her hips. “I need you to make me permanent, to summon me properly back to life.”

  “I don’t know if that’s possible,” I protested.

  She loomed over me, her face menacing. “It would be better for you if you do as I asked.”

  I stood up and faced her. “Or what? If anything happens to me, you’ll have no chance of coming back permanently.” I had no intention of doing what she asked, but I was trying to buy time so that Ruprecht could figure things out.

  “I’ll just harm your friends then,” she said in a nonchalant manner. “I’ve already killed once, so I won’t hesitate to do it again.”

  “Why did you kill Myles Woods?” I asked her.

  For the first time, she looked taken aback. “Who’s that?”

  “The bank guy,” I told her. “The one you killed. He told you to put out your cigarette.”

  She laughed, a horrible, cackling laugh. “Oh my dear, do you think me so insane as to murder someone simply because they asked me to put out my cigarette?”

  I was at a loss. “So you didn’t kill him?”

  “I killed my husband, the big loser that he was,” she said. “Of course I didn’t kill this Myles Woods person. I’m not a crazy person.”

  I had my doubts about that, but I wasn’t going to say anything. If she didn’t kill Myles, then who did?

  “Hurry up,” she snapped. “I can’t keep this energy going forever.”

  I hoped that was a sign that she was tiring, although it didn’t appear apparent in her demeanour. I was doing everything I could to delay her.

  “Aha. There’s my blue ceramic potted plant holder,” she said gleefully. She grabbed it and tipped my plant, dirt and all, on the floor, and then slammed it on the table in front of me. “This has already been spelled, so we can use this. I don’t suppose you’ve ever summoned a spirit before?”

  “I have,” I said. “You’re not my first, and both times it was an accident.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You have a lot of potential, but you’ve been badly trained.” She tapped her chin. “Now, what can I do to make you bend to my will?”

  I thought she was going to try to put me in an arm lock or stab me with a butter knife, but instead she shut her eyes. Her hands were at her sides, palms upwards. I could feel power rising in the room. I figured she intended to overpower me with her mind. I could not let that happen. I jumped to my feet and hit her over the head with the potted plant holder.

  Clearly, she had not been expecting a mundane attack, and staggered backwards. Ruprecht was right—sometimes, mundane methods were more effective than magical. She let out a string of language that I didn’t think ladies spoke, let alone knew, back in the 1940s, and then tried to scratch my face. I caught her wrist and stomped on her foot. If I could keep her occupied and stop her using magic, then Ruprecht would have more time to break her spell.

  Another thought occurred to me. I knew she was a powerful witch, but I was a Dark Witch, the most powerful of them all. No one had ever told me that she was a Dark Witch, and even if she was, who was to say she was more powerful than I was? Surely if it came to a witchy showdown, I could hold my own.

  Jasmine struggled away from me, and stood up. Her eyes blazed fury. She shut her eyes and focused again. When I moved towards her, I hit an invisible barrier. I knew she had magically raised a barrier between us, so I focused on bringing it down. It worked, so I flew at her and grabbed her wrists, trying to pin them behind her back.

  With a strength I didn’t realise she had, she threw me across the room. She tried to raise the barrier again, but I was ready for her. I picked up a nearby jar of birthday candles and flung them at her head. She ducked just in time.

  Jasmine let out a screech of exasperation and lunged at me, her hands curled into claws. She knocked me over backwards and jumped on top of me, scratching at my face. I grabbed both her wrists and held them away from me, and then flipped her over and pinned her wrists behind her, my knee firmly on her back. She struggled hard, but she was no match for me. Maybe all that time I had spent in the gym before I moved to Bayberry Creek had helped, after all.

  Just then, the flow of energy around the room stopped. I realised I had been holding my breath, and let it out. I looked up into the doorway and saw Alder standing there, looking for all the world like the epitome of a hero, tall, dark, and handsome, with a powerful presence.

  “I’ve come to save you,” he said, his tone holding both relief and embarrassment, “but it looks like you’ve already saved yourself.”

  “Your timing was a little off,” I said. “Does anyone have some rope?”

  Camino hurried over to me, and undid her rope belt. Alder took it from her and tied Jasmine’s wrists. He and Ruprecht dragged her to a chair and made her sit down. Only then, did Alder pull me into a tight hug. “I was so worried about you,” he whispered in my ear. “That was a powerful spell to break.”

  “What are you going to do with me?” Jasmine asked sulkily.

  “Banish you, of course,” Ruprecht said. “Everyone, let’s do this fast while she’s still tired, before she gathers any more energy. Where’s the asafoetida?”

  Jasmine looked horrified, and started chanting. “Quick, find something to gag her with,” Ruprecht said.

  I grabbed my latest attempt at baking and shoved the hard cupcake in her mouth. Her eyes went wide, but she was unable to speak.

  “Great work, Amelia,” Ruprecht said. “Only a Dark Witch could have overcome Jasmine.”

  Thyme caught my eye. “Alder was in a terrible panic about you,” she said with a nod.

  I knew what she was saying. She was reassuring me that Alder couldn’t be involved in any way with Paulette Pinkerton. I nodded back. “Thanks.”

  “How are we going to banish her, Grandfather?” Mint asked him.

  “There are
many ways to banish someone,” Ruprecht said, staring into the distance, which in this case, was the wall opposite. “If we were into ceremonial magick, then we would have more avenues at our disposal. As it is, we are not into ceremonial magick, so we will just have to wing it.”

  “Wing it?” Camino said, presumably to prevent an onslaught of philosophising.

  “Not exactly the words I’m looking for,” Ruprecht said, “but you take my meaning. Amelia, you brought her here, so you can send her back.”

  “How?” I didn’t quite share his confidence.

  “We’ll form a circle around her, and help you with your focus. We’ll throw banishing herbs, such as asafoetida, on her.”

  “How about we hot foot her?” I asked him. “I’m quite good at hot footing, if I do say so myself. I’ve done it to keep several unpleasant customers out of my shop. I just need witches’ salt, chilli salt, copper, and iron sulphate. I always keep some in that cupboard over there.”

  Everyone nodded their approval. I put on some gloves and mixed up the hot foot powder, and then threw it all over Jasmine. She was clearly furious, but unable to do anything apart from struggle wildly. Ruprecht had already made a circle of asafoetida around her.

  “Everything is done.” Ruprecht nodded slowly. “Now, Amelia, remember what you did to get her here, and then focus as hard as you can on sending her back in the same manner.”

  “I was using that old blue container of hers. She told me she had magically done something to it back when she was alive.” I filled it with hot foot powder and put it under her chair. I took off my gloves and threw them in the rubbish bin, and then shut my eyes.

  I did my best to remember how I had been feeling when I summoned her, how I had wanted that plant to live. I tried to sense how it felt, the sensation of something coming at me. I waited until I could feel it, and then I pushed back hard with my mind as hard as I could. Aloud I said, “Jasmine, go back where you came from. I send you back now. Jasmine, return!”

  It was a simple spell, but Ruprecht had told me on more than one occasion that simple spells are often the best. I had put all my intent into it, after all. I opened my eyes and she was gone.

  “Where did she go?”

  Ruprecht smiled. “Does it matter? I have no idea, Amelia, to be honest. I assume she has gone to wherever she was before you summoned her. Well done.”

  Alder at once took my arm, and I leant against him. “That was exhausting,” I muttered.

  “We haven’t finished yet,” Ruprecht said. “We need to wash the entire shop from the back to front with salt, Chinese Wash, and Van Van oil. That will cleanse the whole area. After we do that, all need to go home and take cleansing baths. Does everyone have Uncrossing Powder?”

  We all said that we did.

  Alder took me to one side and whispered in my ear. “I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. We need to talk.”

  “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?” I asked him, saying the first thing that came into my head. Of course, I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth.

  Alder’s usually impassive face was one of shock. “Are you out of your mind? Of course not!”

  I laughed. “I suppose I’m feeling a little light headed after all that.”

  Alder winked at me. “Well then, you had better come back to my place for your cleansing bath.”

  Chapter 18

  I was sitting in a restaurant in the closest big town to Bayberry Creek. Alder, of course, was sitting opposite me. Despite the fact the murderer had not yet been caught, I was feeling pretty good. The fight with Jasmine had been draining, and after my cleansing bath, I had fallen asleep at Alder’s house and then slept again all the way in the car to the restaurant.

  “I’m glad to see you’re wide awake now,” Alder said with a smile.

  I yawned and stretched, and then laughed. “Despite all the yawning, I’m starting to wake up.”

  I hadn’t yet asked him about Paulette. The waiter had already taken our orders and poured our champagne, so now would be a good time to do so. I don’t know why I was so reluctant. Maybe it was because I was still hoping he would volunteer the reason as to why he’d had coffee with her twice and hadn’t told me.

  The atmosphere was intimate, with the dim lighting and the flickering tealight candles on each table. Rather than a chair, I was seated on an ornate wooden bench that was carved in a most intricate pattern of entwining leaves. The woodwork formed a booth, and the entwining leaves moved upwards, making our booth something akin to a private grotto.

  It was entirely romantic. I had been dating Alder for just over a year now, and it was still as fresh and as exciting as the very first day. The sight of him always set off butterflies churning in my stomach and electric tingles running through my body.

  Alder was acting nervous. I’m sure he would appear fine to a casual observer, but I knew him too well. He didn’t quite hold my gaze; he shifted around in his chair—unusual for him, and he fidgeted with the forks on the table. In turn, I was becoming more and more nervous. Still, he had said we weren’t breaking up, so how bad could it be?

  Our main course arrived, a Green Laska for Alder and for me, a peanut satay with a name I could not pronounce. Alder spent a few moments pushing his udon noodles around his plate before truly looking at me for the first time that night. “Amelia, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” He looked away again and stabbed a mushroom with his fork.

  I decided to put him out of his misery. “It’s all right. I know what you’re going to say.”

  He sat bolt upright. “You do?”

  I nodded. “You’re going to tell me you’ve had coffee with Paulette Pinkerton. Twice,” I added, more viciously than I intended.

  Alder looked shocked. That, in turn, surprised me, because if he wasn’t going to tell me about Paulette, then what was he going to talk about?

  He sighed and placed both hands on the table, palms down. “I actually wasn’t having coffee with her. It was the café where I always get my takeaway coffee, and she was sitting there a couple of times, so I sat and spoke with her while they were making my coffee.”

  Harlot, I thought. That was very cunning of her. Aloud I said, “Oh?” I said it as a question, to encourage him to go on.

  “She didn’t want me to tell you—well, she didn’t want me to tell anyone, but she’s a new client of mine. I felt bad keeping it from you.”

  “Surely there are private investigators where she lives, wherever that is?” I asked him.

  “Sydney,” he supplied.

  I waited for a few moments, but when he didn’t say anything further, I said, “There must be millions of private investigators in Sydney.”

  Alder nodded. “But this was a delicate matter, so she wanted someone she knew.” I did my best not to scowl. “I don’t like keeping anything from you, but there is the matter of client confidentiality,” he added.

  “I wouldn’t mind at all if it was a man, or even a woman far less attractive than she is,” I admitted.

  Alder put his fork on the table and leant back. “Are you jealous?” He sounded surprised.

  “Yes, of course I am,” I said.

  Alder leant across the table. “Firstly, I would never give you cause to be jealous, and secondly…” His voice trailed away.

  “Secondly?” I prompted him.

  “Secondly, she’s gay.” His eyes twinkled.

  “You’re kidding!”

  He shook his head. “She’s gay. She told me the first day I met her.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” I said frankly. “I do trust you, Alder, but I couldn’t help being a little jealous.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I must say I’m a little jealous of that Detective Bowes. Word around town is that he has his eye on you.”

  “He’s gay, too,” I said with a smile.

  It was Alder’s turn to look surprised. “Is he?”

  I laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist it. No,
he isn’t, not as far as I know. Anyway, Alder, you know I only have eyes for you.”

  He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’ve been dating for more than a year now. I wanted to talk to you about taking our relationship to the next level.”

  Next level? I didn’t think there was a next level. I wondered what he meant? Surely he didn’t mean…?

  Alder’s phone rang. The volume was turned down, so I could hardly hear it. Alder let it ring out. It rang again, so he went to turn it off, but looked surprised when he saw the caller ID. “I have to take this,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. He looked decidedly put out.

  Alder looked more and more surprised as the call went on. “I’m leaving immediately,” he said as soon as he hung up. “I’ll call you when I land.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to postpone. Do you remember that case I was on last Halloween?”

  “The one where you got shot?” I said in alarm.

  Alder nodded. “The man got away, but the head detective I was working with was the one who called me. The police are pretty sure that man is at Sydney International Airport right now. They’ve delayed his flight, and have him under surveillance, so they want me to fly from here to Sydney and identify him.”

  “What, now?”

  “Of all the timing!” He pushed his car keys across the table to me and then took some large bills out of his pocket and handed them to me. “You might as well stay and enjoy yourself, and then drive home. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Amelia, please don’t do any investigating by yourself.”

  “Of course I won’t,” I said in the most convincing tone I could muster.

  Alder pulled me to my feet, kissed me hard, and then swept out of the restaurant. I sat there, stunned. What had he been going to say? Was he going to mention marriage? That was the only next step in our relationship that occurred to me, no matter how hard I thought.

  I had lost my appetite, but I thought I should force myself to eat dessert. I ordered the Tower of Indulgence, which boasted several forms of chocolate as well as caramel mousse.