Scared Witchless

by Amy Boyles

"Afraid so," Reid said. "Roman's the new detective."

  Jenny glanced at all of us. "What? What'd I miss?"

  I waved my hand. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

  Jenny backed toward the door. "Okaaay," she said. "I guess I'll be going then."

  After she left, I dropped my forehead to the desk. "Great. Just great."

  "It's not a big deal," Reid said. "It's not like you'll be seeing him every day."

  Outside, a black SUV stopped at a red light. My heart thudded as the window rolled down. Roman, wearing those stupid black shades, rested his arm on the lip of the door. He looked over in our direction. Our eyes met. At least I thought so. Impossible to tell with him wearing those sunglasses.

  He waved. The light turned green, and he drove off.

  Yep, he saw me.

  Reid was wrong. It looked like I might, in fact, be seeing him every day.

  Epilogue

  "Is everything ready?" I asked Sera.

  She finished stacking a trayful of cucumber sandwiches. After wiping mayonnaise on her apron she said, "I think so."

  Reid ruffled her burgundy curls. "When will she be here?"

  I glanced at my watch. "Any time now. Let's all go into the living room." I ushered my sisters in, and Sera placed the tray on the dining table.

  Nan finished tacking a banner to the wall and climbed down from her chair. "I'm all set here."

  Grandma put down the gardening magazine she was reading. "Oh? Are we ready? I'm starving."

  I tilted my head to one side. "I'm pretty sure we're missing the guest of honor."

  "Oh pooh. Who is that?"

  Reid said what I was thinking. "The monkey king, Grandma."

  I snickered.

  "Great, can't wait to see him again," Grandma said.

  "You shouldn't do that," Sera said.

  "What?" Reid shrugged.

  Sera pulled off her apron and hung it on a peg. "Tease her. It isn't nice."

  The doorbell ding-donged. I gave my sister's hands a squeeze for luck, and we all marched to the door. I opened it. Milly glared at me over her snarling nose. "You wanted to see me?"

  I took her by the shoulders and guided her inside. "Milly, we want to officially welcome you into the family."

  She looked at the blue WELCOME banner that ran from one side of the living room to the other. Tears misted in her eyes. Nan put a noisemaker to her lips and blew.

  Grandma threw up her hands. "Welcome to the family, you old harlot."

  That was one way to do it.

  Milly caned across the floor. She looked back at us, brought a shaking hand to her lips and did the unthinkable. She smiled.

  I walked over and wrapped her in a hug. "Welcome, Milly. We're glad to call you family."

  She sniffed a couple of times and said, "Thank you. That means a lot."

  I released her, took her hand and said, "Hungry? There's lots of food."

  "I'm starving."

  Sera crossed to the table and started plating the sandwiches. "Then let's enjoy each other's company as a family."

  As we formed a line to take our plates, Grandma pulled me aside. "Here." She stuffed something in my hands.

  I looked down at a brown accordion folder. "What is it?"

  "Open it."

  Sliding off the band that kept it shut, I opened the flap and pulled out a fat manila file that read ROMAN BANE. "Is this what I think it is?"

  She nodded. "It's what you wanted to read. Everything is right there."

  I started to peel the faded cover back and stopped. This was Roman's life. His life. Every personal detail about it. Everything that had happened to him—from his mother and sisters' deaths to his girlfriend's killing. All of it. Right there in front of me. I could know everything I wanted to know about the mysterious man.

  It was none of my business. I placed the file back in the folder and pressed it into Grandma's hands. "No. I don't want it. Thank you, though."

  She smiled and vanished it in less than a second.

  As we sat down to eat, our plates piled high, smiles splashed across our faces, Sera said, “There’s still one thing we never found out.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “We never discovered who froze Grandma.”

  Milly wiped her mouth. “That was me.”

  Shocked faces turned toward her. “How? Why?” Reid asked.

  She shrugged. “Her power was being drained. She needed to be frozen. I knew she wouldn’t let me do it, so I disguised myself. Believe it or not, I can do glamours.”

  “I guess that settles that,” I said.

  “She’s right. I never would've let Milly do it if I'd known it was her. On the lighter side,” Grandma said, “I told the monkey king to be here in five minutes for lunch. Will he be too late?”

  I glanced at Milly, who forked a beet and said, “No. I think he’ll be right on time.”

  This should be interesting.

  <<<>>>

  Keep reading for a sneak peak of KISS MY WITCH.

  Hey y’all,

  I cannot thank you enough for reading Scared Witchless. If you enjoyed it, sign up below for my mailing list so you can receive updates for when book two in the Bless Your Witch series is released.

  While you’re waiting for the continuing saga of the Apel sisters to pop up on your ereading device, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. Reviews are invaluable to Indie authors like myself as it helps my little book gain visibility and also helps other readers decide if they’d be interested in trying out my book.

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  Y’all take care of yourselves out there.

  Best witches,

  Amy

  BLESS YOUR WITCH

  Scared Witchless

  Kiss My Witch

  Queen Witch

  Quit Your Witchin’

  For Witch’s Sake

  About the author:

  Amy Boyles lives in North Alabama with her husband and has a passion for cooking ridiculously fattening food as well as writing. She loves to be contacted by readers.

  Connect with Me Online:

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  Thank you for reading Scared Witchless. If you enjoyed it, tell others about it or write a review. If you do write a review, please let me know at amyboylesauthor@gmail.com so I can personally thank you.

  KISS MY WITCH

  ONE

  "If one more mosquito bites me, I'm going to freeze every last one." Grandma Hazel slapped the paper-thin skin of her arm. A tiny insect lifted off her and flitted through the air. She shook an angry fist at it.

  My sister Seraphina, Sera for short, unhooked a blanket from her elbow. "Whose idea was it to have a picnic, again?"

  "I guess it was mine," I grumbled. Sera smirked and set about spreading the blanket over the grass.

  "I'm going to freeze them all," Grandma muttered.

  My baby sister, Reid, full of eighteen-year-old angst and vinegar, plopped down on the blanket. "Please, Grandma. Kill them. Kill them all. I can't stand mosquitoes. They always eat me for lunch."

  "That's because you are lunch," Sera said. "Of course, this wouldn't have been a problem if Dylan hadn't conjured up the idea of a picnic." She shot me a dirty look that I knew she didn't mean.

  At least, not completely.

  "Excuse me for wanting to have a little bonding time with the fams," I said.

  "Fams?" Grandma asked, fluffing her triangle-shaped silver hair.

  "Family," Reid interpreted. "You know, the hip way to talk."

  I set a small wicker basket on the blanket. The back door of the house opened, and my grandmother's bodyguard (yes, bodyguard), Nan, exited rear end first, a tray of potato salad and
fried chicken between her hands. This is the South, after all. Down here, we don't think too much about our arteries and cholesterol. Well, we do, but there's medication for that.

  I licked my lips. Yum.

  "I'm starving," Reid said. "Nan, can I help you?"

  Nan, an older woman by my standards and a younger one by my grandmother's, handed Reid the tray. Nan brushed her hands and fisted them on her hips. She surveyed our fenced-in backyard and said, "Should be a quiet evening."

  "Hey, ladies," came a husky voice from next door. I glanced up. Through the slotted fence our tall, dark and handsome neighbor, Rick Beck, waved at us. "How're y'all doing?"

  Reid waved back like a puppy looking for approval. "We're great. Just great. Enjoying this beautiful weather."

  Rick rested his hands atop the fence. His crystal-blue eyes lit with amusement. "I don't know about beautiful, but it's certainly hot."

  "Yes," Reid chirped. "It's hot. Not beautiful."

  "I hope we're not being too loud and disturbing you," I said.

  Rick shook his head. "Not at all. I saw y'all out here and thought I'd come say hey."

  "Hey," Reid said weakly.

  He nodded. "Well, y'all enjoy yourselves." He gave a wave and disappeared back into his house.

  Reid deflated like a flimsy balloon on a cold day. "Tell me I wasn't a moron."

  Sera rubbed Reid's arm and gave her a warm smile. "You weren't a moron."

  "He's just so hunky. My tongue does all kinds of stupid things around him."

  I waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it."

  "We're here to have a quiet evening, remember?" Nan said.

  "That's if no one invited any winged monkeys," I replied, more to myself than anyone else.

  Grandma pulled a strand of loose pearls out from under her scarf. "Oh? Was I supposed to invite one? No one said anything."

  "No," I said quickly. "We're good. We don't need any winged monkeys joining us." I gave Sera a help-me look. She shrugged.

  Right. In case you hadn't guessed, my family isn't normal. Normal would be people having a picnic, complaining about the heat, not—

  "Dylan, try to freeze the mosquitoes. I know you can do it if you try." Grandma grinned at me as if all her hopes and dreams hinged on me turning flying annoyances into ice cubes.

  That's what I mean. We're not normal. I recently discovered that I come from a long line of witches. Awesome, right? You'd think so, but not. Like, at all. That's because a few weeks ago someone tried to kill me and steal my witchy powers. Actually, not just someone—my old assistant, a person I trusted and cared about. And I'm not even good at magic. I'm still trying to get a handle on my abilities.

  "Grandma, I don't think I can put mosquitoes into a deep freeze."

  Grandma popped my wrist. "That's because you don't have any confidence. Listen, girlie, if you build it, they will come. It's as simple as closing your eyes and imagining all those nasty winged devils sitting in the middle of an ice cube."

  No problem. "I'm on it. Any advice?"

  Sera handed me a paper plate dressed with a dollop of potato salad and a chicken leg. The grease from the crispy skin had soaked into the plate, leaving a ring. "Yeah. Don't screw up."

  I wrinkled my nose at her.

  "No advice," Grandma said in a soothing voice. "Just do."

  "Aren't we all zen?" Reid said.

  I ignored Reid and closed my eyes. In order to pinpoint the target of my spell, I imagined my family surrounded by a swarm of buzzing mosquitoes. I then focused on every bug and visualized each one being encased in ice and falling to the ground with a thud.

  "Um, Dylan," Sera said. "Not sure it's working."

  "Shhh," I whispered. "I'm trying to concentrate here."

  "I think you might be focusing in the wrong direction," Nan said.

  I opened one eye a slit. "Did I do it? Are we surrounded by mosquito popsicles?"

  "Um, not exactly," Reid said.

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  Grandma jabbed my arm. "Take a look." She pointed toward the sky.

  I glanced up. A dark cloud freckled the horizon. I peered closer. It wasn't a cloud at all. The mass wasn't solid. A riot of individual black specks flew toward us, clipping at a fairly swift pace.

  I edged to one corner of the blanket. "What is that?"

  "That would be a mess of mosquitoes coming to suck our blood," Grandma said.

  "What? Did I do that?"

  She adjusted a silver ring on her finger and said, "I do believe so."

  Okay, so saying I'm not good at magic might have been an understatement. The truth is, I'm terrible at it. I try, really I do, but often spells backfire or don't fire or, like this one, they burst into flames.

  The cloud descended, making its way toward us. Panic scrambled up my throat. "What do we do?"

  Grandma pushed her sticklike frame from the blanket. "Unless we want to become a feast for bugs, I suggest we run."

  She didn't have to tell me twice. I loaded my arms with plates and napkins, silverware and cups.

  Reid moved with the urgency of a sloth. "Can't one of you make it go away? I was enjoying the picnic."

  Grandma clutched her body as if looking for her car keys. Of course she didn't own a car, so that was neither here nor there. "Time to go," she said.

  We hustled toward the house. I glanced back to the sky. The cloud hadn't missed one beat. The tiny bloodsuckers were coming, moving fast, heading straight for us. It felt like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. Only they were bugs. Bugs. I mean, why were a bunch of bugs trying to attack?

  Maybe they weren't going to attack. Perhaps once we went inside, they'd leave.

  We reached the house and shut the door. Grandma whirled around. "Let's grab all the towels we can find and stuff them under the door. Fill any cracks in the windows. I don't know how long they'll wage their siege on us, but we must stop them from gaining entry."

  She saluted us like a general and dashed toward the cupboard to grab the towels. She handed them out, and I stuffed one under the seam of the door just as the day went black.

  "They're here," she said. "Shut the blinds. Don't let them see us."

  Right. We were talking about mosquitoes, after all. Not some military force on a stakeout. But my sisters and I listened to my grandmother and turned the wands, closing the wooden blinds.

  The five of us clustered in the center of the room and held our breaths. Nan took an offensive karate-style stance, arms raised, legs splayed, ready to do some damage to our tiny foes.

  "How long will they stay?" Reid asked.

  Grandma shrugged. "I suppose until they get bored."

  Sera tipped her head down. A curtain of glossy brown hair cut across her face. "How long will that take?"

  Grandma settled down at the dining table and drummed her fingers across the wood. "Hard to say. Bugs can have minds of their own. They're very stubborn, mosquitoes. They might stay an hour or a day. Perhaps a week at the longest."

  "A week?" I said. "We can't be locked in here for a week. I have a shop to run, things to do."

  She folded her hands in front of her. "You should have thought about that before you summoned them to attack us."

  "I didn't summon them! I was trying to freeze them so they'd stop biting us."

  Grandma sniffed. "You didn't do a very good job."

  Nan slapped her arm. "Ouch. Little bugger bit me."

  My ears pricked in her direction. "What's that?"

  "A mosquito bit me," she said.

  "Get away," Reid said.

  I glanced over. Sure enough, a small rebel squad of mosquitoes hovered in the air. "They've gotten in," I said. I strode over to the cloud, hitting the air to take out as many of their soldiers as I could. All I managed to do was move them around, spreading the little buggers out over the living room. "What do we do? Grandma, can't you erase their memories or something? Make them decide not to feast on us?"

  Grandma joined our figh
ting battalion of women swatting this way and that. "It's very hard to erase a bug's memory. They're programmed to perform specific tasks, like seek out blood and drink it. It's not that simple. Now, if I had a field full of unicorns, perhaps their tails could act like weapons and they could smack the mosquitoes, but other than that, there's nothing I can do."

  A field of unicorns? Leave it to Grandma to come up with an idea that not only made no sense but bordered on downright crazy talk. No matter how wild-haired it sounded, though, Grandma is friends with the unicorn king, a fact I found out not long ago. And I wasn't joking about erasing our attackers’ memories. Once, my grandma erased a scissor's memory. Don't ask. The whole situation was completely unbelievable, and I'm still not sure I'm convinced that inanimate objects have memories, but at the moment I had bigger fish to fry. Smaller fish, actually, but that's tit for tat.

  "How are they getting in?" Sera asked, dancing about the room in an attempt to shake her attackers.

  "There's too many of them," Reid said. She raked her hands through the air at a feverish pace. "There must be something else we can do."

  Sera grabbed a pillow and swung it back and forth. "We're witches, for goodness' sake. Can't we stop this?"

  Grandma fanned at the cloud of bloodsuckers with a white gauzy scarf. "We must stand and fight, girls. We can defeat the enemy."

  I glanced at Sera. She shot me a look that said, really? We clawed at the mosquitoes, but somehow those little jerks had figured out a way in—probably a crack in a windowsill—and they were determined to drink our blood.

  The room darkened to a pitch. I stopped swatting, unsure of what was going on.

  "What happened?" Reid asked.

  I shook my head.

  The walls started vibrating as if a million bug wings were flapping against it, which in all reality they probably were. Dust from the popcorn ceiling floated to the floor. The steady stream of biting insects invading the house seemed to increase.