by Amy Boyles
The Witch's Handbook to Catching Werewolves
Southern Single Mom Paranormal Mysteries Book 2
Amy Boyles
Contents
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1. ONE
2. TWO
3. THREE
4. FOUR
5. FIVE
6. SIX
7. SEVEN
8. EIGHT
9. NINE
10. TEN
11. ELEVEN
12. TWELVE
13. THIRTEEN
14. FOURTEEN
15. FIFTEEN
16. SIXTEEN
17. SEVENTEEN
18. EIGHTEEN
19. NINETEEN
20. TWENTY
21. TWENTY-ONE
22. TWENTY-TWO
23. TWENTY-THREE
24. TWENTY-FOUR
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Also by Amy Boyles
About the Author
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ONE
“No, Mommy is not going to put the turkey on her head.”
I stood in the middle of downtown Normal, Alabama, with my two-year-old girl, Gabby.
Amber curls covered her little head. She glanced up at me with golden eyes and frowned. “Mommy not going to put the turkey on her head?”
“No, definitely not,” I said.
Gabby narrowed her eyes and pointed into the street.
A newly waxed pickup truck rolled by. I stared at my reflection on the glossed-up door. Blonde hair in loose waves draped over my shoulders, and dark eyes peeked out from my fringed bangs. I pulled Gabby back as the truck’s load rumbled past—a decorative float.
All of town had shown up for the annual Thanksgiving parade. Main Street was filled with floats, classic cars, beauty queens, marching bands and cheerleaders. Two floats down, a local turkey farmer had created a masterpiece—papier-mâché pilgrims and Native Americans sat at a table eating their meal of thanks. Above them, an arch of fall-colored balloons in all shades of red and orange lashed one side of the float to the other, while a tame Thanksgiving turkey strutted back and forth, watching the spectators with small, blinking eyes.
Hence my family’s discussion.
“Mommy put turkey on her head.”
I ruffled Gabby’s curls. “No. Mommy’s not going to put the turkey on her head.”
“Well, why not, dear? It’s not as if the bird has to stay there for eternity.”
My great-aunt Dot was decked out in a golden sweater with turkey feathers sprouting from the shoulders, yellow sequined pants, and sunglasses that took up half of her head.
“Please don’t give her ideas,” I said. “I’m not doing anything with that turkey.”
“But you could, Andie,” came a voice from my open purse. Vordrid, a spirit inhabiting a Magic 8 Ball and my mentor. “You could manipulate it a little. Make your daughter laugh. Isn’t that what life’s all about?”
Okay, so in case you haven’t guessed, I’m a witch—oh, and a vampire hunter. I’d been in retirement from both up until a few weeks ago when a vampire decided to start feeding on my town. With the help of an angel—my daughter’s guardian—I’d been able to stop the bloodsuckers from delivering another angel to a pack of demons.
Yeah, I know. My life’s complicated.
That’s okay, I’ve got my shinola together.
Sort of.
A hand wrapped around my waist. “Did I ever tell you that you’re a great mom?”
I glanced over my shoulder. Well, speaking of angels, here was one now.
Stone brushed a lock of dark hair from his silver eyes. His shoulder-length locks made him look more rock star than angel. His seriously sculpted build didn’t hurt, either. I could definitely handle that.
“I’m not sure you’ve called me an awesome mother before, but I’ll take it if you do,” I said.
“I think it’s one of the things I like most about you.”
Before I could be blown over by that comment, he lowered his gaze. Long lashes brushed his high cheekbones. Stone handed me a paper cup with a protective sleeve. “Hot cider, at your service.”
“Oh, thank you.” I lowered my voice. “You angels are really something.”
Stone flashed me a crooked smile. “I try.”
I felt his warm hand on my back. An electrical pulse streaked down my spine. My bones jerked and popped. There was something about Stone that made my body split into a thousand pieces of delight. The connection between us was intoxicating it was so strong.
Incredibly strong.
So incredibly strong that the outcome of our relationship, if we allowed it to progress too far, would make Stone mortal—meaning he would lose his place in heaven.
Yeah, some heavy stuff right there.
Except Stone needed to be an angel. His desire to help people outranked any yearning to be with me. That didn’t hurt my feelings too much. I mean, I do have an ego and all, but I try to ignore the fact that his presence rips my heart from my chest over and over. Most of the time I chew on my burning need for him and do my best to ignore it.
The turkey strutting on the float ruffled its feathers and plunged into the crowd, landing on a tall, lithe man who was all limbs. Without missing a beat, the man pulled the turkey from his head and tossed the fluttering bird back on the float. He gave a bashful smile and waved to the crowd.
“Well, Andie, at least someone put the turkey on their head,” Dot sniffed.
I ignored her. Why did elders always have to be right?
Stone leaned over. His mouth brushed my ear, sending a tingle zipping down my neck. “Lots of supernaturals turned up for the parade.”
My ears pricked at that. My gaze bobbed around the crowd, trying to figure out who was human and, well, who wasn’t.
A group of lithe, waiflike people stood in a group across the street. Fae, most likely, or even elves. Another group of burly men and women wearing dark denim and leather stood on the same side of the street as me, just farther down—werewolves or shape-shifters, probably.
My stomach clenched. I fisted my hands and instinctively started to pull energy from the air and yank it into my core. From there I could transfer it into magic.
Stone placed a hand on my shoulder. “They’re watching, same as us.”
“You mean, cool my jets.”
“I mean,” he whispered, “they’re not doing anything to warrant you blowing them up with your magic.”
He was right. I released a shot of air, relaxed my hands and shook out my arms.
Stone squeezed me. “I know it’s hard to be around supers and not expect them to do something, but you’ve got to trust, Andie.”
“We’re all spectators in this great thing called life, dear,” Dot said, reassuring me.
So the whole supernatural-beings thing was new to Normal. Due to a magical situation, they’d arrived in droves a few weeks ago. Before then my town had been nearly void of magical beings.
My background as a hunter meant I had been taught to stalk vampires, though my instinct had filtered down to other supernaturals. So far, things had gone well with the newcomers. They’d opened up a few businesses but weren’t flaunting that they weren’t completely human, which was great.
Because they’d have me to deal with if they did.
But still, I’d moved to Normal to have a quiet life where no one knew about my powers. I wanted to keep things that way. With all the new folks coming in, I felt a countdown clock ticking
in my gut. I had a bad feeling that my family would be exposed. This was small town, Alabama, y’all. I didn’t need anyone to know I was a witch and burn me at the stake.
Just kidding. I don’t think folks burn others at the stake anymore.
I hope.
Anyway, it was a tenuous relationship—at least on my side. Not that the other supernaturals knew I felt that way. I’d kept it to myself, and Stone, of course.
“As long as they don’t do anything stupid,” I said to him. “We should all be fine.”
The turkey float rumbled up to us. The gobbler on top strutted back and forth, displaying his wide fan of tail feathers.
“Mommy, want touch it,” Gabby said.
Dot nudged my elbow. “Go on and take one of those feathers for her.” She winked at me.
My jaw dropped. “I will not. Dot, the word is incognito—incognito. That’s what we need to be.”
“Oh, I thought you were going to say apocalypse,” Dot said.
I shook my head. “Why would I say that?”
Dot fingered her pink old-lady curls. “I don’t know. Seemed like a good word.”
I gritted my teeth, working my patience back down to my gut. “I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”
“Whatever you do, don’t lock me in a box.”
That was tempting.
The turkey continued to strut as the float rolled past. It was all cool-as-a-cucumber and enjoying the ride when a dark figure shot onto the float. The platform dipped away from us. For a brief second I couldn’t see. When it righted itself, I saw exactly what was going on.
A creature covered with thick black fur from head to foot stood on the platform. His legs were spread wide, and devilish yellow eyes flashed over the crowd. The werewolf (’cause that’s what it was) stretched over six feet as it balanced on hind legs.
Gasps of shock and awe filled the crowd.
The animal dropped onto all fours and snapped its jaws around the turkey’s neck. The gobbler squawked as the wolf jumped from the float and raced into the crowd. Children screamed. Mothers shielded their young ones’ eyes while the rest of the mass just stood with mouths gaping—including myself.
Gabby tugged on my leg. “Mommy, what happened?”
I downed the last of my cider and crunched the cup in my fist. Anger curled in veins. “A werewolf just stole the Thanksgiving turkey,” I whispered hoarsely.
“Andie, you can’t be serious,” Vordrid said.
“Oh, I’m very serious. And now that creature is going to have to deal with me.”
Stone placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Andie?”
I glared at him. “No one comes into my town, screws with my normal life and gets away with it. Let’s hunt him down.”
TWO
That night I discovered the supernaturals were convening a meeting in the basement of a new vegetarian restaurant that had recently opened, Forest Green. I think it was owned by elves or something. I wasn’t a vegetarian, so I wasn’t about to be eating there, anyway.
Stone had his finger on the pulse of the town when it came to the new beings who’d moved in. He knew all about what the supers were doing.
“So how’d you know about this?” I said, stepping out of his Tahoe. A cool wind sliced through the old industrial side of town. It was now the hip business area, one I called the Red Brick district. I zipped up my jacket and hugged my arms to my chest.
Stone raked his fingers through his hair. “I know things,” he said mysteriously.
I smirked. “You mean, like you can read minds?”
He winked at me. “I read about it on a supernatural online forum for folks who live in town.”
“Ah, the truth comes out,” I said.
We walked around to the rear entrance. A big, burly guy guarded the door. His shirt was unbuttoned to his waist, revealing a carpet of hair. Gold chains weighed down his neck. If I had to guess, I’d say the guy was a werewolf.
Wolf Man greeted us with a frown.
“We’re here for the meeting,” Stone said.
The guy spat on the ground. Nice. “Password?”
“How about let us in?” I said.
Macho Man rolled his eyes but opened the door. We stepped inside. Stone led me down a creaky flight of steps to a cold, clammy basement that smelled surprisingly of cinnamon.
Naked bulbs hung from a string that ran around the entire room. All the place needed was Santa Claus and it would’ve felt exactly like Christmas—what with the lights and the holiday fragrance thing going on.
Right.
People filled the room from one side to the other. They were all shapes and sizes, and if I hadn’t known they were supernaturals, I never would’ve guessed; that’s how well they fit in.
“What I did, I did for all of us,” said a tall, muscular man with a crop of ebony hair. He had dark flashing eyes, a five-o’clock shadow dusting his jawline, and enough chest hair that even with his shirt buttoned up to the neck, tiny sprigs still peeked out from his collar. Probably another werewolf. I was beginning to think every person in the lycan family was all hairy as heck.
“They need to know we’re here,” the man growled.
“Cal, that’s ridiculous,” said a tall woman with long silvery hair. I assumed Cal was the werewolf. “We stay in the shadows. That’s how it works.”
Stone and I huddled in the back. “That’s Tetsa, the owner of this restaurant.”
I nodded.
Tetsa crossed her arms. “What happened to the turkey, anyway?”
Cal’s lips curlicued into a warped smile. “It was delicious.”
The room erupted in protest. Apparently the supernaturals were heavily against what one of their own had done.
I was in agreement with them.
Maggie Moonglow, the owner of Nibbly Bites, a local sweet shop, rose. I hadn’t seen Maggie in a while, but I hadn’t forgotten how tall she was—nearly six feet. “We start scaring these people half to death and the supernatural tribunal will come down on us. They’ll sweep all of us out of here.”
Cal sneered from his place at the front of the room. “They wouldn’t dare. They don’t have the courage to come here. We could own this town. Why don’t you want to do that? Finally come out of the shadows and let them see that we exist?”
The room settled into quiet. Cal continued. “Admit it; that’s what all of you want. You want to finally be what you are in the light of day. Let them see that we exist. But you’re all too scared—afraid a mob with burning stakes will show up outside your door and torch down your house.”
My stomach tightened at his words. They hit too close to home, were too close for comfort.
I pushed through the crowd. “That’s what will happen. They will come after us.”
All eyes drifted to me. I hadn’t meant to speak, hadn’t intended on it, but the words flowed from my mouth like water breaking through a dam.
“I’ve been here for over two years,” I said, “since I retired from hunting vampires. If you’d pulled that stunt a few years ago, Cal, I would’ve been sent in to deal with your kind, even though I don’t normally work my magic on werewolves. But I’ve lived in this town a long time, way before y’all all showed up. This is a good, normal town, and I want it to stay that way.”
I took a deep breath, squared my jaw and said, “Perhaps y’all should think about moving out.”
I expected it. The immediate wave of shouts and cries assaulting me almost made me smile. I raised my hands to quiet them.
“Y’all want to live here, y’all need to live by the rules. The rules are—that we stay hidden. No one knows about us. And why would you want them to? So they can persecute us like Tetsa said?”
Cal slammed a meaty fist on a table. “No one would persecute us. You’re living in the old days, hunter. You need to come around, see what the world is like now. Get your head out of the sand. We have power. We don’t need to fear them. They need to fear us.”
Murmu
rs of uneasy agreement vibrated through the crowd until a voice sliced through the noise.
“No one is saying you’re wrong, Cal. All we’re saying is that your method is.”
My knees nearly buckled.
That voice.
My gaze pivoted in the direction it originated from and stopped. My heart fluttered into my throat. There he stood, in a shadowy corner.
Dexter Taylor strolled to the front of the room slowly, like he was king of the world. The amber hair that matched Gabby’s looked darker under the naked bulbs. His blue eyes flashed over the crowd, briefly landing on me. I backed up instinctively. Realizing what I’d done, I took a defiant step forward.
“And what are you going to do about it?” Cal spat at Dex. “Banish me?”
Dex paused. He swiped a finger over a jawline that resembled alabaster more than flesh. “That would require a vote. You’ve gone against basic protocols that we’ve all agreed on. You scared women and children with your foolish act, and right now the sheriff is out looking for a rabid dog. In my eyes, you don’t look too far from it.”
Cal growled. His eyes flashed yellow. I’m assuming that was a werewolf threat tactic.
Dex held his ground. He leaned on one slim hip. His creamy skin looked smooth as silk, and the broad shoulders I remembered from years ago appeared wider, stronger. The sleeves of his white button-down were rolled up to the elbow, revealing muscular forearms.
“Why don’t we take a break?” Dex said. “Come back in fifteen. Let’s get some air and cool off for a few.”
I walked back to Stone. His silvery eyes gazed at me apologetically. “They voted him in as the mayor of the supernaturals. I was going to tell you, but I never got the chance.”
