by Amy Boyles
I cleared my throat. “Actually, the crimes she committed ruined her life.”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “Prison gave her cancer. Gave her the disease that’s slowly taking away her life, bit by bit. If it hadn’t been for Roman, she never would’ve ended up in this situation.”
Probably not true. What did appear to be true was that Graham was a bit delusional. I mean, his mother was old, she wasn’t going to live forever, none of us were, and to be honest, she seemed pretty lucky to have spent most of her life outside of the bars that Roman had put her behind.
“Prison almost killed her. They freed her, but she’s never been the same since. And one of my vows in this life was to get even with the man who ruined her.”
“So you hired Angelique to impersonate Sheila,” I said.
He nodded.
“And you knew which coins you had given Dr. Spell, so all you had to do was steal them and then you had a finger pointing away from you.”
He nodded again.
This was coming easier now, faster.
“And that night you snuck up the staircase and waited and listened. You wanted to get Roman, probably you were going to kill him instead of her.”
Graham shook his head. “There you’re almost wrong.”
Good. Talk. Give someone time to find me. I’d left the upstairs door open. If someone found the passageway and followed it, that would lead them directly to me.
“I hired Angelique because she wanted revenge on Roman, too. We teamed up. The eventual end result was to kill him.”
I shiver ran down my spine. How close had he been to ending Roman’s life and ruining mine?
“But then Angelique got antsy. She was going to reveal everything. She told me Roman and Pearbottom were close to figuring out what was going on and she’d be sent to prison again.
“Well, I couldn’t let that happen, so I did what I had to. I knew she was upstairs in the library.” He paused, shot me a sinister smile. “You know when I took this job from the last banker, he showed me the passageway, said it was a means of escape in case anyone ever attacked the castle. No one was supposed to know about its existence except for us. And now you, of course.”
Graham ran a thumb under his bottom lip. “I felt she was close to breaking. So I snuck upstairs while they were talking. I was going to push him off the railing, but then a better proposition presented itself.”
He shot me that smile again. “I’d had casts made of Roman’s hands by a witch ages ago. You never know when someone’s fingerprints will come in handy. I watched through a crack in the paneling. When I saw Roman was leaving, I jumped out and pushed Angelique from the balcony. I retreated back into the wall before anyone knew what had happened. Then I planted the prints before the police had a chance to adequately inspect the body.”
I ground my teeth. “You used casts of his hands to plant the black prints on her.”
He nodded. “Yes.” Graham inhaled deeply. “So now you know. Everything. I’d love to say you’re welcome to have that knowledge and live, but I’m afraid that’s not how these things work.”
He pulled the necklace from the drawer—the amethyst with pearls that I’d seen in the picture Milly had shown me. It was the same piece that Graham had pushed inside his desk the first moment I saw him, when Em had brought me to the vault.
He wrapped a hand around each end and snapped it taut. “I think Mother will find it fitting that her necklace was used to kill you.”
I raised my hands to blast him with magic, but nothing came.
“Ah, ah. Magic doesn’t work in this room, remember?”
But it worked to get inside, on the door. If I could use it to get in…
Graham shrugged. “I allowed you to get in.” He raised a hand and showed me a black box. “I have a remote that will unlock the door.”
My hopes squashed. “You watched me. Knew I was coming.”
“Figured it, yes.” He stepped forward. “Now. Let’s get this over with. I abhor violence.”
He lunged for me. I picked a book from a shelf and hurled it at him. Graham ducked. I pushed a chair at him and raced for the door.
I yanked the knob, turning and tugging, but it wouldn’t budge. I pounded on the wood. “Help! Someone help!”
Graham slicked his hair back. “Doors are soundproof.”
He lunged for me again. I picked up the ledger.
“No,” he said, arms raised. “Don’t touch that. It can’t be replicated.”
That gave me an idea. I opened the cover and tore one of the pages.
“Stop!” he yelled.
“Only if you let me go.”
“Never,” he snarled.
I ripped out another sheet. Graham snarled and ran toward me. I jerked back, but my toe caught on the edge of the desk. I went down, plummeting to the floor. Before I could scramble up, I felt the necklace wrap around my neck.
My throat constricted, and all air stopped hitting my lungs.
“You fought hard, but in the end, Dylan Apel, you were a woman ready to blame anyone you could for Angelique’s murder, even trying to pin it on me. What a freak accident that you would tumble from the same balcony that Angelique died from.”
I scraped my fingers, trying to claw at Graham. My nails connected with his face, but the banker jerked back as everything started to dim.
My chest burned, and my heart felt like it would burst. Right as I felt my life start fading away, the door burst open.
Roman stood in the doorway, a Glock in his hand. “It’s over, Graham. Done. Let her go.”
CHAPTER 21
Turned out, Em had followed me and found the open passageway. Once she realized where it led to, she magicked herself to Pearbottom and forced him to release Roman.
Which is how Roman ended up saving my life in the nick of time. I watched as Pearbottom handcuffed Graham Cents and prepared to haul him away. The inspector glanced at me. I looked away, but not before I saw him hand Graham over to another officer.
Roman had wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. Dr. Spell had checked my neck. No permanent damage, though I had a nasty ring that would probably wear off in an hour or two.
Jonathan Pearbottom ran a hand over his hair as he approached me. “How’re you holding up?”
I shrugged. “Great. We discovered the real killer. I’m not going to say I told you so, but—”
“You told me so.”
“Right.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Pearbottom sighed. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
I quirked a brow at him. “Is that as close to an apology as I’m going to get from you? You know, since I kept telling you Roman wasn’t guilty and all that?”
Jonathan shook his head. “I’m sorry. How’s that?”
“It’s a start.”
He turned to leave. “Dylan. Next time I’ll listen.”
I shrugged. “I doubt it, but thanks for attempting.”
Pearbottom shook Roman’s hand. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
Roman covered his other hand and said, “All the evidence pointed to me. No offense taken. And thanks for trying to keep this gal,” he said, nodding to me, “out of anything. It’s an impossible task.”
Pearbottom laughed as I elbowed Roman. He gave us both one last nod and said, “Don’t the two of you have a wedding to get to?”
I smiled. “I believe we do.”
And so that’s how it happened. Once Graham was taken away and everything settled down, the entire castle convened in the gardens. Titus, King of the Unicorns, led the assembly, and Roman and I were married in front of family and friends at Castle Witch.
Well, mostly family. Helga dePlume was there, after all, and Brock made it just in time to be best man.
We decided to tell our nonmagical friends that we chose to elope. That would explain to them how we managed to get married without rescheduling our wedding in the normal world—in Silver Springs, as it was.
It was the e
asiest, and actually the best explanation I could give without having to explain all the craziness that had enveloped my family.
And so it was that I stood in front of the altar with Roman beside me and Titus at the head.
They were all there—my magical family. My chest bloomed as Titus spoke words of magic, sealing Roman to me, and I to him.
A wisp of magic soared in the air, spraying out and becoming a hundred doves as the unicorn king spoke the final words of the ceremony.
“You may kiss the bride,” Titus said.
I glanced at Roman with his new short haircut. Love swam in his green eyes as he dipped his head and sealed our marriage with a kiss.
My heart ballooned with love that I hadn’t known existed. Energy squiggled from my chest into my fingers. Every cell in my body swelled with a power that couldn’t be described. It could neither be created nor destroyed. It existed as perfect, unyielding love.
It’s what existed between me and Roman. As we paraded down the aisle separating one side of the attendees from the other, he leaned into my ear and whispered, “Are you ready to start our life together?”
I grinned from ear to ear and said, “I’d thought you’d never ask.”
EPILOGUE
We danced until dawn, and it was only then that I collapsed onto a bed, ready for sleep. Roman wrapped his hands around me.
“Whoa, hold on there, darlin’.”
I rubbed at my tired eyes, smudging my eyeliner. “What is it?”
Roman coiled a hand around mine. The scents of leather and musk drifted up my nose as he brought the back of my hand to his lips. “There’s no rest for the weary. We’ve got a honeymoon to catch.”
I furrowed my brow. “What?”
He smiled. “It’s your surprise honeymoon trip. We’re going on an airship.”
I balked. “An airship?”
Roman nodded. “That’s right. You can sleep when we get on board. But the ship is scheduled to land any minute.”
I jerked up. “What?”
He nodded. “Come on.”
I changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt, then toed on a pair of boots and followed Roman outside.
In the front gardens of Castle Witch, a wooden ship about the size of a small planet was lowering to the ground. It looked as ancient as a Viking vessel, but as modern as a rocket with steel trimmings and streamlined curves.
“Head’s up,” shouted a man from the deck.
An anchor the size of a boulder plunged to the ground. It scraped along the earth, and the ship came to stop.
A plank lowered. A small, round man dressed like a pirate with a billowy shirt and black hat appeared. “All aboard for Celestial Island.”
I quirked a brow to Roman. “Celestial Island?”
He nodded. “This is it. The honeymoon. A magical ship and a magical island. You ready?”
My heart fluttered as I stared at the grand vessel. I had no idea what awaited me on that ship, but I knew Roman would be beside me all the way.
I gripped his hand tightly. “Let’s go.”
I only hoped I didn’t live to regret those words. Turned out, I almost didn’t live long enough at all. But that’s the next story in the chapter of my life. So stay tuned for that one.
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<<<<>>>>
THANK Y’ALL!
Thank you so much for reading SOUTHERN WITCHING. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review. You can do that HERE. Reviews help other readers decide whether they’d like to take a chance on a book. If you think they should take a chance on this one, let them know!
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And I love to hear from you! Please feel free to drop me a line anytime. You can email me [email protected].
ALSO BY AMY BOYLES
BLESS YOUR WITCH SERIES
SCARED WITCHLESS
KISS MY WITCH
QUEEN WITCH
QUIT YOUR WITCHIN'
FOR WITCH'S SAKE
DON'T GIVE A WITCH
WITCH MY GRITS
FRIED GREEN WITCH
* * *
SOUTHERN SINGLE MOM PARANORMAL MYSTERIES
The Witch’s Handbook to Hunting Vampires
The Witch’s Handbook to Catching Werewolves
The Witch’s Handbook to Trapping Demons
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy Boyles grew up reading Judy Blume and Christopher Pike. Somehow, the combination of coming of age books and teenage murder mysteries made her want to be a writer. After graduating college at DePauw University, she spent some time living in Chicago, Louisville, and New York before settling back in the South. Now, she spends her time chasing two toddlers while trying to stir up trouble in Silver Springs, Alabama, the fictional town where Dylan Apel and her sisters are trying to master witchcraft, tame their crazy relatives, and juggle their love lives. She loves to hear from readers! You can email her at [email protected].
Connect with me online!
amyboylesauthor.com
[email protected]
Table of Contents
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
Epilogue
22. THANK Y’ALL!
Also by Amy Boyles
About the Author
