Gareth looked thoughtful. “Aye,” he said. "You're right. We should try Maeve McCullen."
My brow lifted. "The banshee?"
Gareth nodded. "I don't know why I didn't think of her before. Banshees have a connection to death. She must be able to see apparitions."
"Perfect. Where can I find her?"
"At the playhouse most days. She practically lives there. She loves the stage and the limelight." He seemed heartened at the thought of seeing her again. "I was always rather fond of Maeve."
"Do you think you can materialize in the playhouse?" I asked. “Or should we invite Maeve here?"
"I'm happy to see where else I can go,” he said. "I assumed I would only be able to appear in places I had a strong connection to, like my office or maybe the country club. I haven't tried random places in town that I've been."
"Did you attend her shows?"
"Frequently," he said. "I have a deep affection for the dramatic."
"No kidding," I replied. I stirred the sauce in with the vegetables. It was starting to look like an actual meal. Go me!
Gareth wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You're not going to eat that are you?"
"Way to harsh my mellow, Gareth."
"I don't even think Magpie would eat that."
"Sometimes I think it would be better if you were seen and not heard. Maybe there's a way to turn down the volume on you." I'd have to ask Maeve.
“Try it and you’ll regret it,” Gareth warned. “This is likely how hauntings get started. A disagreement between the living and the dead undead.”
“Keep up the attitude and I’ll start burning sage,” I countered. “See how you like that.”
He gave me an approving nod. “I’ll say this much for you, Emma Hart. You’re tougher than you look.”
When I came downstairs wearing a white cotton dress, Gareth burst into laughter.
“Where are you going dressed like that?” he asked.
“Harp therapy,” I said, and glanced down at my dress. “What’s the problem?”
“There’s no requirement that you look pure as the driven snow in order to pluck a few strings.”
“White seemed appropriate.” I wanted to blend in as much as possible. It was hard being the new witch in town.
“I guarantee I know most of the girls in harp therapy,” he said. “Trust me. Not one of them should be wearing white.”
Paisley waited for me in the driveway and we drove in her jalopy to the church. It felt good to give my feet a rest.
The church was just as pretty as I remembered from my first visit. The building was Romanesque, made of gray stone with rounded arches and one large tower. The angels carved from stone, however, were nowhere near as handsome as Daniel.
“There’s a room downstairs where we play,” Paisley said.
I followed her through the beautiful church with its stained glass windows, careful to avoid Myra, the church administrator. I’d met the gnome when I first moved to town and found her to be a little odd and a lot nosy. I didn’t need her to see me attending a harp therapy session. She seemed to trade in gossip.
Downstairs was a room with three rows of chairs and multiple harps. The instruments were much bigger than I expected.
“Harps are available to rent or purchase,” an elderly man said. “But not today. Consider today your taster session.”
“Emma Hart, meet Ramon Ramirez.” Paisley smiled at the older gentleman. “He’s the best folk harp player in all of Spellbound.”
“I offer private lessons too,” he said, and wiggled his eyebrows. Oh my.
“Thank you, but let’s see how the taster session goes,” I said.
“I think you’ll find it relaxing,” Ramon said. “Music is food for the soul.”
“And I’m sure it’s been a stressful time for you,” Paisley said. “Harp music will certainly lift your spirits.”
“I hope so,” I said. “I heard it helped Jolene a lot.” I watched him for a reaction.
Ramon shook his head sadly. “Poor Jolene. That girl had her whole life ahead of her. Such a waste.”
“You think she took her own life?” I asked, sitting down beside him.
“No,” Paisley said. “Of course he doesn’t.”
Ramon glanced quickly at Paisley. “You don’t?”
“I think the harp music had a positive effect on her,” Paisley said. “She always seemed to leave here in a good mood.”
“Didn’t mean it lasted,” Ramon said. “Maybe the demons came the moment she returned home and closed the door on the world. Nobody except Jolene knows for certain and she sure isn’t telling.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” I said. “If she was murdered, then there is someone else who knows.”
Ramon flicked a dismissive finger in my direction. “Just because you arrived on the heels of a murder doesn’t make every death in town a homicide. There are a lot of residents here and they’re not all immortal.” He began to pluck the strings of his harp. Even his casual plucking had a beautiful, haunting quality to it.
“Cookies,” someone cried and the attendees leaped from their seats to swarm the table.
“You haven’t tasted cookies until you’ve had Lorna’s chocolate and sunshine treats,” Ramon said, moving more quickly than I expected a man of his age to move.
“Chocolate and sunshine?” I queried.
“You’d better grab one now,” Paisley urged. “They won’t last. I swear her cookies are half the reason anyone shows up.”
At the table, I was greeted by a wall of bodies, reaching and grabbing the cookies on the plates. I stood on my tiptoes and tried to peer over the heads of the crowd.
“Use your magic,” someone whispered.
I glanced down to see a dwarf beside me. “You can’t get through either, huh?”
He shook his head. “Most weeks I end up scooping up the crumbs just to get a taste.”
That didn’t sound hygienic. “I’ll see what I can do.” As discreetly as possible, I removed my wand from my waistband and pointed it in the general direction of the cookies. What kind of spell made sense in this situation?
“Jolene was be able to squeeze right through,” the dwarf continued. “I think the others were afraid she’d bite them.”
“Jolene wasn’t aggressive, though, was she?” I asked.
“Oh no. Never,” he said. “It’s just that most of us in this group are of the dwarf and elf variety. If a werewolf wants in, we’re gonna move. And fast.”
“Did you like her?” I asked.
“Everyone liked Jolene,” he said. “Even those of us who were intimidated by her. She was a real sweetheart.”
I wished her ghost would show up like Gareth’s did. Maybe if I waited long enough, I’d find her and get the answers we were looking for. Unfortunately, if she didn’t kill herself, we couldn’t afford to wait. The killer could strike again or disappear before being brought to justice. Even though the inhabitants were trapped within the town boundaries, there were plenty of places to hide…for a long time, if necessary.
“The cookies,” the dwarf said, his tone urgent.
I kept my wand steady. “No need for a fuss/more cookies for us.” For a brief moment, I thought it was a bust. Until the cookies began flying off the plates and smashing into people.
Uh oh.
The attendees who were there for a relaxing evening of harp therapy ran screaming as cookies became missiles. Heads ducked and bodies dropped to the floor to avoid being smashed in the face with a chocolate and sunshine cookie.
The dwarf remained standing, grinning broadly as he caught any cookie within reach and shoved it into his mouth. “This is the best class ever,” he said. His words were nearly unintelligible thanks to the amount of cookie stuffed inside his chubby cheeks.
From her position on the floor, Paisley tugged on my pant leg. “You need to reverse the spell.”
I dropped down beside her. “I don’t know how. Can you do it?”
&
nbsp; Paisley produced her wand and the incantation tumbled from her lips. Cookies fell to the floor, smashing to pieces.
I cringed. “Do you know any cleanup spells?”
Paisley sighed and twirled her wand in a tiny circle. The cookies reformed and flew back to the plates on the table.
“I’m not eating them now,” someone said. “They were on the floor.”
“More for me,” the dwarf said, and scooped up a handful. The rest of the attendees returned to their chairs.
Paisley gave me a disappointed look. “I’m going to have to report this.”
“To Lady Weatherby?” I asked, praying the answer was no.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to, but the rules are clear. If someone tells them what happened and I failed to report it, I’ll be in trouble too.”
“What will happen?” I asked.
“You’re still new,” Paisley said. “I’m sure they’ll go easy on you.”
If Lady Weatherby had her way, I doubted they’d go easy on me. She seemed to want to make life as difficult for me as possible, which seemed unfair given that I didn’t ask for any of this. I was perfectly happy back in Lemon Grove, Pennsylvania. True, I didn’t have any family and friends were few and far between, but I’d been content.
“Miss Hart,” Ramon called. “Come and play. I think you could do with a little harp therapy.”
Once again, I took the empty seat beside him and studied the large instrument in front of me.
“Observe,” Ramon said, and I watched his fingers manipulate the strings. The sound was mesmerizing and, after a while, I felt ready for sleep. It didn’t get more relaxing than that.
“You try it,” Ramon urged.
I touched the strings.
“They won’t bite you,” he said. “It’s a harp not a vampire.”
I plucked one string, then another. No matter what I did, the resulting sound was melodic. “Is this magic?”
“No,” Ramon said with a smile. “It’s just a harp.”
Once I started, it was hard to stop. I kept trying to make the next tune more appealing than the last. It was exhilarating. When the announcement came that class was over, I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me.
“I think I need a harp,” I whispered to Paisley. I wondered if Daniel knew how pleasant harps were. I’d need to enlighten him.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” she said.
“I wish it had been enough to save Jolene,” Ramon added.
I think everyone agreed on that score.
Chapter 10
“There you are,” Daniel said. “Come with me.”
I was bent over Magpie’s bowl, spooning in a can of tuna. “Huh?” Without my latte, I wasn’t completely awake yet.
“What do the humans say?” he asked. “Time to get back on the unicorn?”
“Back in the saddle,” I corrected him. “We don’t have unicorns, remember?” I paused. “Why am I getting back on a unicorn?”
“The broomstick,” he said. “You need to practice.”
The color drained from my face. “No, no. I’ve resigned myself to failing this class. There’s no rush, right? I mean, I’m stuck here for the rest of my life.”
“Emma Hart,” he said firmly. “You can’t let fear win. You’re better than that.”
“I’m really not,” I said. “Besides, I have class with Lady Weatherby today. I need to keep my courage intact.”
He held out his hand. “What good are these wings if I can’t use them to help a friend in need?”
I stroked the soft, white feathers. “They make excellent dusters.”
He glowered at me. “Outside. Now.”
“I haven’t taken my anti-anxiety potion today,” I objected. “I’ll vomit on you.”
“No, you won’t,” he said. “You’ll vomit on the trees in the forest. They’re hundreds of years old. They’ll survive.”
“For the love of disco, go with him,” Gareth urged. “Make the bloke feel useful. I’m tired of him moping about the place.”
I shifted my gaze from Gareth back to Daniel. Did he have to look so earnest?
“Okay,” I relented. “Let’s go while it’s still daylight.”
We walked toward the forest behind the house until we reached a small clearing.
“We’ll start here,” he said.
“Start what?”
“You’re going to ride me like I’m your broom,” he said.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “What? I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can. Just climb on my back and clasp your hands around my neck. Or my waist. Whatever’s more comfortable.”
“Won’t I make it difficult for your wings if I’m on your back?” I asked. A lame protest, but I had to try.
“Plenty of room,” he said, flapping his large wings. “If you wrap your legs around me here”—he patted his hips—“you’ll be well clear of the wings.”
The hottest angel in the world just told me to wrap my legs around him. My whole body was about to burst into flames. Well, on the plus side, spontaneous combustion would save me from broomstick class.
Daniel turned his back on me and crouched lower so that I could climb aboard. “Now or never, Emma.”
“Never?”
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “I won’t let you fall, you know that.”
I did. I trusted him. For whatever reason, I’d trusted him from the moment I met him.
I pressed against the length of him, wrapping my arms around his neck and praying I didn’t accidentally choke him to death.
“Legs,” he prompted.
I hopped up and gripped his waist with my thighs. The thick feathers created a soft, fluffy saddle.
“I’m going to shoot straight into the air,” he warned me. “Then I’m going to fly upside down, just like your loop-de-loop. Your job is to keep your eyes open and don’t let go.”
My mouth went dry. “Okay, I’m ready,” I choked out.
He shot into the air like Superman and I clung to him, struggling to quash the queasy feeling in my stomach.
“Flying is a gift,” he called into the wind. “You have to learn to embrace it.”
I’d rather just embrace Daniel. “Warn me when you’re going to do the loop.”
He didn’t warn me. We went up and over and, miraculously, I managed to keep hold of him. It probably helped that I had no interest in letting go of him, in the air or on the ground.
“Are you still with me?” he asked.
The breeze tickled my nose as we sailed through the air. “Still here.”
“You did well, Emma. How about another loop?”
I winced. “One more and that’s it.”
We completed one more loop as promised and I steered him to the ground, narrowly avoiding the tops of the oak trees on the edge of the forest.
Daniel landed on his feet and I reluctantly slid off his back. A chill ran through me as I separated from him.
“How was that?” he asked.
“Not so bad,” I admitted, thankful that I retained the contents of my stomach. “But that’s because you’re an expert flyer.”
“Confidence can take time,” he said. “You’ll get there. I know you will.”
“Thanks, Daniel. I appreciate your faith in me.”
He grinned. “And I appreciate your faith in me.”
I surveyed our landing site. “So what now?”
“Why don’t we take a walk in the woods?” he proposed. “It’s good for the soul.”
A scenic stroll through the forest sounded ideal. Something to calm my frayed nerves and give Daniel a break from hiding in the house.
“Lead on,” I said.
Daniel threaded his way through the tall trees and I hurried to keep pace beside him.
“This is almost as peaceful as harp therapy,” I said.
“Wait. You went to harp therapy?” Daniel asked. “I didn’t know that.”
“I went to get information abou
t Jolene,” I said. “She apparently started attending to see if it alleviated her depression. I’m surprised she didn’t mention it to you.”
“You really liked it?” He sounded skeptical.
“When I can afford it, I’m going to buy one.”
He whistled. “That’s an endorsement if I ever heard one.”
“Maybe that’s what’s missing for you,” I said. “Harps and bugles.” Or was it trumpets?
Daniel chuckled. “I doubt the missing piece in my life is a musical instrument.” He stopped and examined a few leaves. “These are poisonous. Try to avoid skin contact and definitely don’t ingest them.”
“I don’t plan on feasting on leaves anytime soon,” I said.
“You never know,” he said. “If you get lost in the woods and need food or water, you might be tempted by the wrong things.”
“Oh, I’m always tempted by the wrong things,” I said, and slapped my hand over my mouth. I did not want Daniel to know about my conflicting feelings for him.
“Are you talking about Demetrius?” he asked.
Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. “I just meant in general. I told Demetrius that dating him wasn’t a good idea.”
His brow lifted. “You did?”
I nodded. “That’s what I told him when he came by the house. I’m new here. I need to figure out my life. If my first move is to get involved with the town’s most notorious vampire playboy…I think I need to get settled before I introduce a romantic element into my life.”
“Sounds reasonable,” he said. “Did you have anyone special back in Lemon Grove?”
“No,” I said. “I worked a lot and didn’t really make time for a personal life.” Probably because I was afraid of having one. If I had people I cared about, then I risked losing them. In my experience, the negatives far outweighed the positives.
“Don’t do that here,” he said. “This is your chance to start over. To create the life you always wanted.”
I resisted the urge to look at him. Part of me wanted to confess my feelings for him. I knew one glance at his angelic face would do me in.
A lump formed in my throat. “I won’t. The coven wouldn’t let me anyway. Lady Weatherby seems determined to break me.”
Doom and Broom (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 10
