Spell's Bells (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Annabel Chase

  Chapter 8

  My heart sank when I saw that the Horned Owl was teeming with customers. More witnesses for whatever shenanigans Phoebe and Sheena engaged in.

  Phoebe pushed her way through the crowd. “Make way,” she called. “Hormonal harpy coming through. If you’re looking for a good time, come and sit next to me.”

  Sheena hobbled beside her, her broad frame bumping patrons left and right. At least these two weren’t bickering. Small mercies.

  Phoebe fought her way to the bar and slapped a hand on the counter. “Barkeep, three shots of Lizard Lips.”

  I recognized the satyr behind the bar from previous visits. Ty, one of Sophie’s crushes. I caught the look of fear in his eyes when he realized one of the fiercest creatures in town was in front of him.

  “Say please,” Sheena admonished her. “You catch more flies with honey.”

  “I don’t want to catch flies,” Phoebe said. “I want three shots.”

  Behind the bar, Ty fumbled with the shot glasses. Phoebe’s presence clearly unnerved him. He poured the green liquid, careful to avoid eye contact. It was a far cry from his usual flirtation.

  “How much?” Phoebe demanded.

  “No charge for you, Miss Minor,” Ty mumbled and moved on to the next thirsty patron.

  Phoebe handed a glass to me. “Drink up, Witchy Wonder. You’re only young once.”

  “After you,” I said.

  Phoebe and Sheena tossed back their Lizard Lips and slammed their glasses on the counter. Sheena wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. A classy gesture.

  “Come on, Hart,” Phoebe urged.

  I brought the glass to my lips and blocked the stench. I had a feeling this was going to be one potent shot of alcohol.

  Before I had time to react, Phoebe tipped up the bottom end of my glass and the liquid poured down my throat. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that Phoebe was forced to eat all her vegetables as a child.

  Phoebe clapped her hands and let out a harpy screech. Nearly every patron in the pub winced at the unpleasant sound. Phoebe reached across the counter and grabbed Ty by the scruff of the neck.

  “Turn up the music,” she ordered.

  Somehow, the volume increased before she released him. He immediately poured another round of shots.

  “I was the most liked person in my family until Calliope came along,” Phoebe said, her arm slung over my shoulders. “I bet you didn’t know that.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Calliope was Phoebe’s niece and widely referred to as the ‘normal one.’ I secretly referred to her as the Marilyn of the Munster family.

  Phoebe thrust another glass into my hand. “We’re going to rule this place tonight. Everyone’s afraid of me.” She raised her arms and turned to face the crowd. “How do you like me now, witches?”

  Sheena lifted her glass in the air, but she was so short that it only went as high as my ear. “I can drink anybody here under the table. Who wants to challenge me?”

  She finished the shot and began to move to the beat of the music. Phoebe grabbed her by the hand and the two older women busted out a few graphic moves I’d never seen—nor did I ever wish to see again.

  When they weren’t paying attention, I handed my shot to the guy next to me. He gobbled it down and gave me back the empty glass before my escorts noticed.

  Black wings emerged from Phoebe’s back and people shoved each other out of the way to avoid getting whacked in the face. She looped her arms underneath Sheena’s armpits and flapped her wings, drifting to the top of the bar. I averted my gaze as they continued their crude dance moves on the makeshift dance floor.

  “It’s nice to see mature women with that kind of confidence,” the man beside me said. “Very sexy.”

  I smiled at the older man. He looked human, but my gold coin was on shifter. “As long as they’re enjoying themselves, that’s what’s important.”

  “Indeed.” He shimmied his way closer to the bar. “If I can climb onto that stool without breaking a hip, I may just join them.”

  “Wreaking havoc again?” a familiar voice asked.

  Demetrius Hunt stood beside me, looking as hot as ever in a form-fitting black T-shirt and snug jeans. Although the sexy vampire made it clear he wanted to date me, I’d decided to put the brakes on any romantic relationships while I figured out my new life—and my feelings for Daniel.

  “Trying to minimize the fallout,” I said.

  He flashed his fangs and I fought the urge to swoon. “I’d like to see you up there with them.” He winked. “I bet you have moves I haven’t seen.”

  “Not tonight, Dem,” I said. “I have no desire to be within bump and grind distance of these two.”

  The vampire laughed. “How are you settling in? I heard you were spotted at speed dating on Thursday night.” He cocked an eyebrow and I knew what he was really asking. Why was I actively dating when I told him I didn’t want to pursue a relationship right now?

  “It’s not what you think,” I said.

  “I figured as much, especially with the options you were offered.” He bumped me with his broad shoulder. “A wereweasel, really?”

  “I swear to you, Demetrius. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than at home in bed with a book.” Any book.

  He flashed those tempting fangs again. “I like the first half of that statement. Are you sure about the book, though?”

  My body pulsed with energy. Why did he have to be so alluring?

  “Ouch. My back,” Sheena cried.

  Thank the stars. Saved by a geriatric injury.

  I dared to look up. Sheena was hunched over, her troll body stuck in an awkward position.

  “Killjoy,” Phoebe spat. “I can’t ever have a night of fun with you.”

  “Oh, come on,” Sheena said, still hunched. “It’s been more fun than I’ve had in ages.”

  Phoebe cackled. “Same here.” She wrapped her arms around the troll’s waist and extended her wings. “I’ll fly you home before you do any permanent damage.”

  “That’s my cue to leave,” I said to Demetrius. With Phoebe and Sheena out of commission, I had one more stop to make before I could head home.

  I couldn't wait until morning to figure out what went wrong with the brownies. Since I already knew the identities of my prime suspects, I drove Sigmund north of town to the remedial witch hideout. The hillside hideout was a secret place for my classmates to let off steam and gripe about the coven without anyone overhearing. It was a school night, so I knew the girls were there practicing spells or watching a movie.

  Standing in front of the hidden door, I realized I wasn’t sure how to get in because I’d never come here alone. I pressed my palms against the dirt and tried to remember the spell I’d heard the other girls use. Thanks to the craziness at the Horned Owl, my mind was drawing a blank.

  I gave up and banged my fists on the hillside, shouting their names. What I wouldn’t give for a phone right now. When that failed, I resorted to the old-fashioned method of picking up a stone and chucking it at the hidden door. I chose the smallest one I could find. I didn't have the best arm and I was worried the stone would bounce off the hillside and hit me in the face. That would be just my luck tonight.

  Thankfully, the hidden door materialized and Begonia stood in the doorway, her wand at the ready. When she realized it was me, she pulled me inside.

  "Emma, what are you doing?"

  "I need to talk to you."

  Sophie and Millie sat in front of the oversized magic mirror that doubled as a movie screen, one of the secret connections to the human world. Laurel was at home, too young to be out this late on a school night.

  I stopped and stared at the screen, recognizing the youthful faces of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

  “You’re watching Harry Potter without me?” I began to pout but then quickly shook my head, remembering why I was there. “Please tell me what was in the brownies.”

  Begonia’s eyes lit up. "Why? What happened?"

&n
bsp; "I knew it," I said, pointing an accusatory finger. “My entire harp therapy class ingested those brownies. It was the weirdest class ever. The things I saw…" I squeezed my eyes closed. "I cannot un-see them. Ever."

  Begonia covered her mouth. "Why did you bring them to harp therapy? We thought they were for you."

  Sensing a good story, the other girls paused the movie and gave me their full attention.

  “Wait,” Millie said. “Your harp therapy class ate the brownies? Isn’t Phoebe Minor in that group?”

  I held my hands over my ears. “Please. I’ve heard her name quite enough for one night. Did you know she was crowned Miss Spellbound back in days of yore?” It seemed impossible that the harpy with the leathery skin and abrasive personality could have been crowned with anything other than thorns.

  The other girls laughed, enjoying my distress.

  “Seriously,” I said, my hands moving to my hips. “What did you expect to happen to me when I ate the brownies?”

  “We decided that it might help if we boosted your confidence," Sophie admitted.

  Boom. A confidence enhancement. Just as I suspected. “Help what? What do I need confidence for?" While I wasn’t the best student in the academy, I was making progress and my job wasn’t too overwhelming right now.

  Three sets of eyes took a sudden interest in the braided rug beneath their feet.

  Begonia cleared her throat. “We were hoping you might tell Daniel how you really feel."

  I slapped my forehead. “Are you out of your minds?"

  “No, but you are,” Millie said. “In the history of Spellbound, no one’s managed to get as close to the Halo Hottie as you have.”

  “You two have a genuine connection,” Begonia added. “Just like Claude and I do.” A soft sigh escaped her lips.

  “A connection I don’t want to destroy.” I shoved my hands into my pockets in a defensive gesture. "We have a great friendship and I have no interest in ruining it."

  “We’re sorry,” Sophie said, her eyes shining with tears. “We didn’t mean to cause trouble. Do you think Lady Weatherby will find out?”

  Lady Weatherby seemed to be a fly on the wall of every room in Spellbound. One of her many advanced spells.

  “Probably not,” I said. “The residents are used to Phoebe’s outrageous behavior.”

  Begonia tugged on my sleeve. “What did she do?”

  "I can’t bring myself to relive it,” I said. I shoved down the memories. I needed to bury them deep within my subconscious where they could never rear their ugly heads again. "Trust me. No one ever needs to see Phoebe Minor and Sheena making a satyr sandwich.”

  Sophie's eyes popped. "Not my satyr?"

  I couldn't lie to Sophie. "I'm afraid so. If it’s any consolation, he did not look happy about it."

  "Serves him right after ignoring you," Millie said. "All of his admirers can't be busty nymphs. He's got to take the bitter with the better."

  Millie did not suffer fools gladly.

  "I appreciate that you wanted to help me," I said. "But please let me handle Daniel on my own. My friendship with him is really important to me and I don't want to do anything to jeopardize it. I can't explain it, but you’re right—we have a strong bond…I feel like I need him in my life." Need, not want. The feeling was overpowering at times and this was from someone who’d never felt like I needed anyone. I didn't understand it and I wasn't willing to mess with what I didn't understand.

  "We are really sorry," Sophie said. “We promise we won't interfere again."

  Begonia giggled. "I really wished we'd been at the Horned Owl with you. It sounds like it was quite an evening."

  I groaned. "You have no idea. On the plus side, I think Phoebe and I have formed a new friendship." And I'd much rather be on the harpy's good side. In fact, it was a relief to discover that she had a good side.

  “Sit with us and watch the rest of Harry Potter,” Begonia said.

  “No, thanks. I really need a good night’s sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow.” Again.

  “You’re not going back to see Agnes, are you?” Millie asked. “Because Lady Weatherby made it very clear…”

  I held up a hand. “Agnes is not on tomorrow’s agenda. I swear.” I failed to mention, however, that another, older witch was. If Raisa wanted to be forgotten, I wasn’t going to be the one to remind everyone about her. My eye began to twitch at the thought of the isolated witch in the woods. Somehow, I didn’t think she was going to be the rollicking, good time that Agnes was, but I planned to bring a bottle of Fangtastic—just in case.

  Chapter 9

  I drove north until all signs of the town faded away, until all I could see ahead of me were hills and to the left of me only forest. The path was just as Agnes described. I would have missed it entirely except for Sedgwick, who had insisted on accompanying me.

  "I don't really need an escort," I told my familiar. I could practically hear him scowling in the air above me.

  What kind of familiar would I be if I let you go alone? As ornery as he was, Sedgwick was capable of the rare act of kindness.

  I turned down the path and began bouncing around in my seat. Despite the magical enhancements, these tires were not made for off-roading.

  Put the car in glide, Sedgwick said.

  What's glide?

  Did that angel tell you nothing about how your magical car works? I heard the note of disdain in his voice. There is a button on your dashboard. I think it's green. Hit that.

  I scanned the dashboard and saw the button in question. There was an image of a car with no wheels on it. I pressed it and waited to see what happened next. The car jerked and I felt the wheels pull upward. That quickly, the journey became smooth.

  Is my car actually gliding?

  Yes, you can't go any higher. It's not like riding on a broomstick, but it saves your shocks.

  I'm in a hovercraft, I cried. This was so cool. How could Daniel have forgotten to tell me about this function? Too focused on the state of the universe, I guess.

  The car drifted along and the trees grew closer together, arching over the path in a protective stance.

  I don't think you can drive any further, Sedgwick advised. The forest is too dense up ahead.

  I pulled to the side of the path, not that I expected anyone would come along and need to pass me. I left the car and continued along the path on foot with Sedgwick directly above me.

  Would you mind flying over to the right slightly? I asked.

  What's the problem? Sedgwick asked. Would you like me two paces behind you at all times as well?

  "I just don't like things directly above my head," I said.

  Unbelievable, Sedgwick said. You’re worried I'm going to poop on you. Admit it.

  I kept my gaze pinned on the path ahead of me. "Maybe," I admitted.

  Newsflash. I am not an infant. I can control when and where I excrete.

  I glanced up at my owl. "Excrete? That's a big word for a tiny owl."

  Don't patronize me, Sedgwick said, and flew ahead in disgust.

  I chuckled to myself. I had to keep myself amused because, if I focused on the forest around me, I'd run screaming back to Sigmund. The path was almost nonexistent now as twisted branches and roots shoved their way out of the ground beneath my feet. Oak trees and pine trees made way for silver birches. In fact, this area of the forest seemed to be composed entirely of silver birches.

  A gust of cold wind blew right through me, nearly knocking me backward. I shivered.

  I see the cottage ahead, Sedgwick said.

  My heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, I got the nagging feeling that this was a very bad idea. I should have at least asked Begonia to come with me. Someone to let the world know how I died.

  I focused on the trail, making sure not to trip over any raised roots or wayward tree trunks. Raisa certainly didn't make it easy to visit her. I guess she was really serious about getting away from it all.

  Smoke rose from the chimney of the small c
ottage. So she was home. That was a relief. The last thing I wanted to do was wait for her alone in the forest. She even had a white fence, although it could hardly be described as picket. As I moved closer, I realized why the fence was white. My legs wobbled slightly.

  "Sedgwick, are those what I think they are?"

  Afraid so, he replied and my heart sank.

  Bones. The fence was made entirely of bones.

  Raisa was not going to be the congenial old hag I was hoping to meet.

  I had no choice but to touch the bones in order to open the gate. The second I was through, I wiped my hands vigorously on my pants. I wasn't sure what kind of germs could possibly be lingering on old bones, but still.

  Are you sure about this? Sedgwick asked. It's not too late to turn back. She doesn't know you’re here.

  At that moment, the front door of the cottage swung open and a frail woman appeared in the doorway. "Oh, but I do."

  There were so many things wrong with this moment that I didn't know where to begin. The witch could hear Sedgwick? How was that possible?

  "Come in, Emma Hart. I've been expecting you."

  Every inch of my body told me to run. Whatever humans were programmed with regarding fight or flight, my mind and body were in agreement. Get the hell out of there! Even so, I forced myself to follow her. If Raisa was someone with answers, then I needed to push my fears aside and talk to her.

  "Sedgwick is welcome to join us," she added over her shoulder.

  She even knew Sedgwick's name. Agnes was right. Raisa was clearly from a different coven. But which one?

  I ducked inside the small cottage. The interior was sparse. Slabs of wood seemed to be everywhere I turned. There were a few open shelves and, of course, a bubbling cauldron in the Inglenook-style fireplace. Raisa herself was frightening to behold. She looked closer to a skeleton than a person. Her legs were like two knitting needles and her nose was long and thin. Her hair was a blend of gray and white and I noticed bald patches where hair no longer grew. Between her stringy hair and the brown spots on her skin, Raisa looked like she hadn't bathed in a year.

  "So what's with the bones outside?" I asked. I decided to take the direct approach. No point in being vague with someone who seemed to know so much already.