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Twistchapel Witch Cozy Mystery Box Set: Books 1-4 plus Christmas Short

Page 17

by Alexandria Westbay


  “I completely understand,” I said. I wouldn’t be shocked if the same thing happened to me. Mine would probably have a lot more smiley faces and thumbs up involved, though.

  “Shall we?” he asked, holding his hand out to the door.

  My car honked, signaling it was locked.

  “I am now,” I laughed.

  We walked in and were greeted by the hostess. Drake gave her his name, and she walked us to a table by the window. It was a two seater, much to Bart’s chagrin, with a beautiful set of candles in the middle of the table. Drake held my seat for me before taking his.

  “Have you been here before?” asked Drake.

  “A few times,” I smiled. “I used to date someone who took me here every time he screwed up. I must have subconsciously stayed with him because I love the food here so much!”

  “Yikes, bringing up the exes before we even get our entrees,” chuckled Drake.

  “Seriously, Zoey,” groaned Bart. “Who does that?”

  “Probably not the best move,” I laughed. “Would you prefer if I lie to you?”

  “Definitely not,” he smiled.

  “Welcome to Giovanni’s,” said a teenage boy wearing all white. His face was covered in pimples and he looked like he didn’t know how to shave yet. He had on a name tag that read Joey Sinclair. “My name is Joey, and I’ll be your server this evening.”

  “Woah, aren’t there child labor laws?” asked Bart. “How is this kid able to work here?”

  “Can I start you two off with a beverage? Some wine perhaps?” asked Joey, voice cracking at various words.

  “I’ll just have some water,” I said.

  “Make that two,” smiled Drake.

  “Very good, sir,” nodded Joey. He turned to head to the kitchen, before frantically saying, “I-I mean molto belle!”

  “Poor kid,” laughed Drake, glancing over the menu.

  “How will I feel like I’m in Italy if the waiter won’t speak Italian?” I giggled.

  “He’s got to. Do you know what you’d like?”

  I nodded. “You?”

  “I believe so,” he said. “So, how do you kno-”

  “Here we are,” said Joey, rushing back to us with two glasses of water. “Do you two know what you’d like to order?”

  “I’ll take the chicken milano,” I said.

  Drake smiled. “What a coincidence! I’ll have the same.”

  “Bellissimo,” croaked Joey. “We’ll have that for you soon!” He hurried away again.

  “There we go,” sighed Drake. “Now I finally feel like I’ve been teleported away to Italy!”

  “Exactly!” I laughed. “What were you going to say?”

  “Right,” said Drake, picking up his glass to take a sip. “I was going to ask you how you-oop!”

  Drake had missed his mouth completely with the drink and spilled half of it onto his shirt.

  “Oh no!” I said.

  “That’s odd…” mumbled Bart.

  “I’m so sorry,” he laughed, taking a napkin and trying to wipe it clean. “This is kind of embarrassing.”

  “Please don’t be embarrassed,” I said. It was nice to see he was human.

  “I’ll try my best,” he smirked, getting up from his chair. “I think I’ll head to the restroom and dry this off real quick.”

  “Take your time,” I smiled back. He ducked his head down and made for the back of the restaurant.

  “Did you do that on purpose?” asked Bart.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “The drink was nudged with magic,” said Bart. “I thought I didn’t teach you how to move objects with magic yet.”

  “You haven’t…” I said slowly. I hope this didn’t mean…

  “Why, Zoey, what a surprise!” said a man from behind me.

  “Well, now we know who cast the spell,” groaned Bart.

  “Mind if I take this seat for a moment?” asked Warren, sitting down in Drake’s chair. “Oh, nice and warm. Where’d your date go off to?”

  “W-What are you doing here?” I whispered harshly. “I thought you said you were busy!”

  “I am, but I saw you two from the window and stopped in to say hi,” smirked Warren.

  “Hi,” I said. “Now, bye.”

  “Yeesh, always so rude,” said Warren, shaking his head and looking at Bart. “How do you put up with this all the time?”

  “I’m with her on this one,” glared Bart.

  “How’s the case going?” he asked. “Any leads?”

  I sighed. He wasn’t going to leave. I might as well tell him what I knew so far.

  “Not really,” I said, taking a sip from my glass. “I talked with the vampire council. They were adamant that it wasn’t a vampire who killed him. They also didn’t buy the vampire hunter idea. I feel like I lost credibility even mentioning that one.”

  “Why don’t they like that option?” asked Warren.

  “They said there hasn’t been any nearby mention of a vampire hunter in a long time,” I said. “Thank Allen for that one the next time you see him.”

  “They’re wrong, though,” said Warren. “A few towns over had a string of suspicious vampire deaths. When Allen mentioned it could be a vampire hunter, I thought that was a good hypothesis.”

  “Really?” I asked. Maybe I should keep that option open. “Who could it be, though?”

  “No idea,” he shrugged, glancing back towards the bathrooms. “By the way, why are you wasting your time with this human, if I may ask? Just looking for some fun?”

  “No,” I blushed. “I kind of like him, and want to see where this goes.”

  “Where this goes?” he let out a dry laugh. “Spoiler alert. It goes into the ground.”

  “You don’t know that,” I said. Warren could know all the weird little facts about people that he’d like, but he didn’t really know Drake, or me.

  “Those who dance with the paranormal side of things can never truly be happy with boring old humans,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m surprised Bartholomew hasn’t told you that, yet.”

  “You should leave,” I said firmly.

  “Whatever you say,” said Warren, standing up. “Please remember this case is somewhat time sensitive. We don’t have all month to figure this one out. I’d keep your little get-togethers short.”

  “Go. Away.”

  “You heard the lady,” said Drake, stepping up on Warren from behind.

  “You might be able to cast spells, Warren, but I’d not get too cocky around the Detective,” warned an amused Bart. “I’m not sure if you’ve got something prepared to combat his anger.”

  “Detective Drake,” nodded Warren. “How are you this lovely evening?”

  “It sounds like you are harassing Miss Foster here. It’d be a shame if I had to arrest you for that, wouldn’t it?”

  “It’s fine, Drake,” I smiled, trying to diffuse the situation.

  “I apologize if I was a bother to either of you,” said Warren. “Just wanted to pop in to say hello.”

  “Well, now you can pop out,” smiled Drake. It wasn’t a friendly smile.

  “Very well. Have a good one, you two,” said Warren, bowing his head and leaving the restaurant.

  Drake waited to sit down until the door closed.

  “I’m sorry, Drake,” I said. “I don’t know why-”

  “Are you seeing him?” Drake asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Are you seeing him, romantically?” he clarified. “I’m just wondering. I know we aren’t necessarily something exclusive, so it’s fine if you are.”

  “Really? because it doesn’t sound like it would be fine,” I smiled.

  “True,” he said, letting a smile slip out. “I wanted to take you here tonight to make sure we were on the same page. I know it’s a classic thing to always claim to be busy in order to not keep seeing anyone, and I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t doing that to you.”

  “I know,
” I said quickly.

  “Good,” he said, taking my hand in his. Shoot, my hand was probably clammy. “Because I do like you, Zoey. And it would bother me if you were seeing another guy. Especially a guy like that.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not seeing anyone else,” I said, cheeks filled with color. “And I like you, too.”

  “Great,” he smiled.

  “Uh, s-sorry to interrupt, guys,” said Joey, voice crack and all. Drake and I looked to our left to see our waiter, arms shaking, trying to keep the plates balanced on his serving tray. “I-I don’t think I can hold this much longer!”

  “Sorry,” laughed Drake, letting go of my hand and getting up to help Joey set the food down. I begrudgingly took my hand back.

  “T-Thanks mister!” said Joey. “I-I-I mean grazie!”

  “A perfect end to a perfect moment,” said Bart, wearing the widest smile I’ve seen in a long time.

  “Shut up,” I whispered.

  “What’d you say?” asked Drake, setting my plate down in front of me.

  “I said it looks great,” I smiled up at him.

  Stupid Joey.

  Chapter 7

  “Of course that guy would pay for our meal,” muttered Drake as we exited Giovanni’s.

  “Yeah… I don’t know what his deal is,” I said. Part of me thought Warren was just trying to be nice by paying, but I knew better than that. He was trying to be a thorn in Drake’s side.

  “I’d love to spend more time together tonight, but unfortunately I’ve got to get up early,” he said.

  “Yeah, me too,” I lied. I didn’t really have anything else going on until tomorrow night, but no point in laying on the guilt.

  He opened his arms and went for the hug. I wasn’t quite hoping for that one, but it was a nice consolation prize.

  “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” said Drake.

  “Okay,” I smiled.

  He waved goodbye and got in his car. Oh well, I could go home, watch some TV, and get some good sleep. This case mixed with my personal life was starting to get draining. I could use the night off.

  As I waved backed, my phone started to buzz. I glanced down, and saw that it was Allen. I opened it and skimmed through it, getting the gist that he wanted to meet tonight.

  Of course he did.

  I put my phone away and started walking to my car.

  “Don’t you know that lady?” asked Bart, looking behind us.

  I turned around and saw Jill Arnold walking out of Giovanni’s with a takeout bag.

  “Jill?” I asked.

  “Oh, hey Zoey!” said Jill, walking to me. “How are you doing? You look nice.”

  “Thanks,” I smiled. “What are you doing out here so late?”

  “Getting food, clearly,” mumbled Bart.

  “I’ve been working so long on my shop that I have hardly had time to grocery shop. I figured I might as well pick up some dinner on my way back.”

  “Makes sense. Giovanni’s is great whether you eat it there or at home.”

  “What are you up to?” she asked. “You look like you just got done with a hot date. Was it Detective Drake?”

  “Uh…” I hesitated, blushing. I wasn’t sure if I should go around saying that it was.

  “Or some guy with a ponytail?” she asked with a wink. “I’ve heard you are seeing two guys!”

  Probably best to squash one rumor with a real one.

  “No, I’m not seeing anyone else,” I said. “I was out with Drake.”

  “How lovely,” she smiled. “He seems like a nice guy. I need to find me one of them. My schedule just keeps me so busy, though. Plus, running a beauty shop means most of my clientele are women, so that isn’t super helpful in that department.”

  “That’s such a bummer that your shop is taking so long to setup,” I said. “Would you like some help?”

  “Really? That would be great actually! How about Saturday afternoon?”

  Shoot. I was just trying to be polite.

  “That… that works for me!”

  The last thing I needed to do was add more friends and responsibilities to my list. What was I thinking?

  Jill glanced down and pulled out her buzzing phone. She read through it quickly and stood up straighter.

  “This is kind of urgent,” she said. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow!”

  “See you then!” I said with a fake smile. Where did she have to go? I didn’t think she had made any close friends yet, and I know she didn’t have any family from Twistchapel. She was probably trying to escape before I could change my mind on helping her.

  “Ha! You’ve actually got to hang out with her now,” purred Bart.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The other day you both did the ‘we should hang out’ thing, but never set a time. You both made a mistake this time,” he said, hopping into my car.

  “You’re right,” I nodded, getting in as well.

  “To the house? There’s a new reality show that starts tonight!” he said excitedly. “I was just gonna tape it and watch it later, but it’s better if we can watch it live.”

  “Actually, we’re heading back out to the Crestwood shack,” I said. “Allen texted me.”

  “You got a text from Allen?” asked Bart. “What’s it say?”

  “Here,” I said, passing my phone over to him. “I don’t have time to read it and drive. I want to get this over with as soon as possible.”

  Bart glanced down at my phone. “It says ‘Hey Zoey,’ and he used three ys, followed by a wink face, then a smiley face. ‘You should totes come over to Crestwood so we can chat,’ followed by… six… seven hearts, a thumbs up, a poop emoji, and then another wink face.”

  We drove in silence for a moment.

  “I now understand why you didn’t want to read the text out loud,” said Bart.

  We drove the rest of the way to the shack without saying much. This day was lasting forever. All I wanted to do was go home and sleep, not deal with more vampires. Even my lovely date with Drake was crashed by Warren. I couldn’t wait for this case to be over.

  I pulled up next to the shack and got out. There were a few other cars here this time. Weird that there weren’t any earlier.

  “Where are we meeting Allen? Inside?” asked Bart.

  “He didn’t say,” I said, pulling out my phone to call him.

  “Surprise,” he said, inches away from the back of my neck.

  “Not surprised,” I said honestly. “I assumed you’d try to mess with me again.”

  “Aw, it’s all in good fun,” he said, taking a step back.

  “Why are there cars here? There weren’t any besides mine when I pulled up earlier today,” I said.

  “You visited earlier?” he asked. “Why didn’t you swing by to say hi to me?”

  “I was working on the case, not just making a social call,” I said.

  “Either way,” he shrugged. He started off into the woods and waved for me to follow. “I’d prefer to discuss the details of the case away from others.”

  “Okay…” I said, giving a look to Bart.

  “He’s probably trying to prank us or something,” shrugged the cat.

  “People only park here if they’re visiting,” said Allen as I followed behind him. “The rest of us keep our cars in an area by another entrance.”

  “Where’s the other entrance?”

  “Can’t tell you that,” he smiled back. “No one outside of Crestwood is allowed there. It’s our emergency exit plan in case a group tries to attack us. Speaking of attacking, any updates on the case?”

  “Not really. I talked with your council, but nothing really seemed to come of it. What’s the deal with the council, by the way?” I asked. “I always thought vampires were more into a monarchy type thing.”

  “Historically, you’re correct. We would have the king, surrounded by many lords. Part of the problem with living so long, though, is it can start a lot of revolt
s. Even peasant level vampires are significantly stronger than your typical human, so it resulted in a lot of unnecessary deaths.”

  “Ah, I could see that.”

  “We decided to take a more democratic method, so that everyone could feel like their voices were heard. The terms last for roughly 100 years, and everyone’s vote matters equally. There haven’t been any uprisings since then.”

  “So the council will always make an agreed upon decision?” I asked.

  “Well, normally,” said Allen as we finally came to a stop. We were a few hundred yards away from the shack and in the middle of the forest now. There wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy about this spot, but Allen seemed to think this area was safe.

  “What do you mean?” asked Bart.

  “In times of war, we will still elect a supreme ruler, or dictator. They unite all of us and are able to make important decisions without having to be slowed down by the bureaucracy.”

  “You just give someone absolute power?” I asked, amazed. That sounded like a horrible idea.

  “The ancient Romans used to do this as well,” nodded Allen. “It worked for them for a long time. Just like them, the dictators relinquish their power when we are done with the war.”

  “No one ever keeps the power to themselves?”

  “Nope,” shrugged Allen. “They always give it back up. Vampires are noble beings.”

  “Clearly,” said Bart looking Allen up and down.

  “What did you think of the council when you talked with them?” asked Allen. “I bet that was quite a shock to see an old mayor of Twistchapel!”

  “Thanks for giving me the heads up on that, by the way,” I said dryly. “Konstantin and Darius seemed nice. Julius, not so much.”

  “Yeah, he gives off a mean vibe. He seems to be in a perpetually bad mood.”

  “He seemed to really think the werewolves did it,” I said.

  “Why does that not surprise me,” chuckled Allen.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Julius hates the werewolves. He voted against the renewal of the truce with the werewolves when it came up about fifty years ago, and is always going on about how they are a problem that needs to be dealt with.”

 

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