by Amy Boyles
“You need somebody.”
He smirked but said nothing.
Curiosity got the better of me. “What is it?”
“I’m debating whether I want to throw you in a cell or ask you over for dinner.”
A sucker punch to the gut. I didn’t expect that. Worse, my cheeks burned under his steely stare. I finally ground out, “I will never have dinner with you.”
He grinned. “Which is fine by me because I don’t have dinner with witches.”
“I despise vampires.”
“Really?” He hiked a perfectly arched brow. “I never would’ve guessed. I’m not too fond of witches, myself.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Then what are you doing here? Why would you live in a town full of witches and you don’t like them? How do I even know you’re looking for Jimmy? You don’t like witches, so why would you help us?”
He rose abruptly. “You don’t like vampires. I’m going to guess one almost killed you.”
I froze and stared at him. I could feel anger pouring out of me and shooting straight to him. “That,” I said coldly, “is none of your business.”
His jaw clenched. “I’ll show you the door. But I want Langdon’s shirt back.”
“I don’t have it,” I said smartly.
“Where is it?”
Would it incriminate me more to tell him? How much bigger of a hole could I really dig for myself?
When I didn’t answer, he said, “I’ll stop by the courthouse and get it myself.”
“How do you know where I’m staying?”
Before showing me from his office, Thorne said, “Everyone knows where you’re staying. It’s not a secret.”
With that, he locked the gate leading to the jail behind me and walked away.
FIFTEEN
I had to get home to warn my mother about Thorne. He’d want that shirt and he’d want it soon. I was headed back when someone calling my name caught my attention.
“Yoo-hoo, Charming! Hey, girl! What’re you doing?”
Kimberly bobbed up to me, her red lips so puffed up they looked to overtake her face.
“You feeling okay? Had an allergic reaction?”
She shook her head. “No, I thought I’d try a new spell where I make my lips bigger—you know, to get ready to meet my soul mate and all—but it backfired like every spell does in this town. I don’t even know why I tried it, but I thought it was sure-fire.”
“Kimberly, tell me something.”
“Yes?” She raised a Coke and slurped through the straw. “What is it?”
“What happens to your magic if you leave town? Does it get better?”
Kimberly shook her head. “No, you can leave, but the curse of the town stays with you. Apparently in its heyday Witch’s Forge was booming. Witches and vampires mingled, even regular folks would come—hence all the shops to attract them. They didn’t know about the magic, of course, people were very careful not to reveal too much but this town was full of power. It was supposedly beautiful. I know the mayor thinks getting people married will help change it back. Maybe it will. I don’t know. At the very least it’ll boost morale.”
I smirked. “Yeah, I guess so. I’ve questioned Mayor Dixon’s expectations.”
Kimberly laughed. “Girl, I don’t think anyone has expectations. We just want a distraction.”
Just then Thorne stormed from the tavern. He took one look at me and shook his head.
When he was out of earshot, Kimberly released a deep breath. “Oh, wouldn’t you love to let him sink his fangs into you?”
I shrank back, appalled. “Absolutely not. A vampire and a witch? That’s disgusting.”
She hiked a shoulder. “Thorne’s not. He’s dreamy. But he hates it here, being trapped and all.”
Trapped? Now this was news. “What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard?” She sidled in closer and glanced right and left to make sure no one could overhear. “Apparently Thorne did something bad, very bad. Made his father angry and was banished here. His dad is some big froo-froo vampire. He found out we needed a police guy and got Thorne the job, but Thorne can’t leave. That’s why he’s so bitter and unsocial.”
“What about his band of merry men? What’s their excuse for being so horrible?”
Kimberly snorted. “Band of merry men! That’s hilarious. Oh, they’re just vampires who work with him. They leave whenever they want. Not Thorne. He’s stuck here. There’s some sort of vampire magic that keeps him in the area.”
“So that magic works?”
“Mmm hmmm. I don’t know how long his sentence is, but it’s for a long time.”
I raised my hand to stop her. “So you’re saying a criminal is the chief of police?”
“Not a criminal. He just ticked off his dad. But don’t ask me how or why. I’ve told you all I know.” Kimberly pressed a finger to her lips. “That’s just between us, okay?”
“My lips are sealed.”
Kimberly brushed her fingers over her mouth. “Speaking of lips. I need to figure out a way to fix these. I know a water witch who’s good with that sort of thing.”
I fluffed my hair. “If your friend can’t help, find me; my mom can probably do something.”
Her eyes flared with excitement. “Oh, are you serious? To have Glinda Calhoun work magic on me would be striking a line through a goal on my bucket list.”
Was she kidding? Really the celebrity surrounding my mother was so annoying.
I smile tightly. “Sure. I’ll make it happen. Just let me know.”
“And I’ll be on the lookout for my soul mate. He’ll be arriving by train, you say? It’s taking everything I’ve got not to sit at the station every day.”
“Um, let’s not resort to that,” I said pointedly.
“Don’t worry.” She swatted away my concern playfully. “I’m not going to camp out there or anything.”
Right. “Well, I’ll see you soon.”
“See ya.”
I walked back to the courthouse and found my mother and aunt had created a room devoted completely to magic. Potions and powders lined the shelves. A large tome of spells lay open on a lectern.
“I don’t think that’s the spell that was used in this case,” Mama said.
Rose peered at the book. “It looks to me like a jumping bean spell. Like that Langdon fellow was inside his shirt one minute and jumped out the next. Don’t you think so, Pig?”
From a corner, Pig snorted as if she could understand human.
“I’m not the most talented witch,” I said.
I could practically see my mother biting her tongue to make sure she didn’t respond smartly.
“However,” I continued, “I will have to say that in this case I think my mother is right. There’s no way a jumping bean spell was used.”
“Thank you, Charming,” Mama said. “Whatever has you flushed?”
My hand flashed to my neck. “I’m not flushed.”
“You most certainly are. Your neck is pink and your cheeks are splotched.”
I was not flushed. I didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Anyway.” I poked the air. “We have a problem. Thorne knows we broke into his house.”
“Who’s Thorne?” Rose said.
I rolled my eyes. “The evil vampire who has the hots for you.”
“Oh, him? Well, if Thorne wants the shirt, I suppose he should have it.”
“He’s the police around here. He has to have it.” I gave my mom a reproachful look. “So whatever experiment you’re doing, you’ll have to stop.”
“Rose, hand me those scissors.” Rose handed a pair of silver shears to Mama. My mother proceeded to snip a slice of the shirt from the back. “What he won’t know won’t hurt him.” She shrugged. “Besides, we have to keep some of it so I can figure out what sort of spell it is. It will also help us pair it to Jimmy’s ripped shirt—make sure it’s the same spell on both. Not that the shirt will help too much, since ever
yone’s powers in this town are topsy-turvy except for ours. The spell may look like one thing but really be another.”
“Witch's Forge is a unique place,” I murmured.
“So it is.” She raised the snippet of cloth and balled up the rest of the shirt. The doorbell rang. “Looks like the vampire is right on time. I want to see up close this creature that has you all flushed, Charming. There must be something very alluring about him.”
“There’s nothing alluring about a vampire,” I argued.
“Oh, that’s not true,” Rose said. “Vampires can be very alluring. That’s often how they catch their prey—by seducing them. The next thing you know, you don’t have any blood left.”
“Thank you, Aunt Rose.” I darted in front of my mother, blocking her path. “You don’t have to give him the shirt. I’ll do it.”
“Nonsense,” she said in her tone of superiority, “I want to meet him.”
With a flicker of her hand, my mother evaporated and appeared at the door, her fingers on the knob. She shot me a smug look and opened it.
Thorne stood on the other side. His expression was sort of a simmering glower, the kind of anger that didn’t look to dissipate anytime soon.
At least not when the situation concerned me.
“I take it you’re the vampire,” Mama said.
“My reputation precedes me.”
She offered her hand, and he took it. “I’m Glinda Calhoun. I believe you know my daughter, Charming. This is my aunt, Rose.”
“I’m Thorne Blackwood.” He ignored me and focused on Rose. “I have met Ms. Rose.”
Rose winked at him. I wanted to die. “It’s wonderful to see you.”
All I wanted was for my mother to hand over the shirt so Thorne could leave, but that isn’t what happened.
“I understand the three of us may have misbehaved and took something important from you.”
Thorne didn’t say anything.
“Mr. Blackwood, I would like to help. I’m not sure if you’re aware of my talents, but I can assure you I am a powerful witch. I’d like to assist you in figuring out what sort of spell caused this problem. I’ve already been pouring over my books.” She paused to look him up and down, giving Thorne the same contemplative look I was used to being on the receiving end of. “That is assuming you’ve realized a spell is the cause of the shredded shirt.”
His harsh expression melted, and his lips slowly curved. “I have realized it must be magical.”
“Good. That’s settled. We will help you figure out what could’ve caused this. Now, would you like to stay for dinner? I’m afraid I can’t offer any fresh meat or blood; we were going to have fried chicken.”
My eyelids flared, and I shot my mother a look that clearly suggested she was supposed to stop, right then, and not ask him to join us. Why would she do that? Ask the evil vampire to break bread or bones with us?
My mother ignored my pained expression and smiled at Thorne. “Well, would you like to join us?”
Thorne’s gaze darted to me. I shot him an annoyed look. The corners of his mouth turned up even more. This amused him! Oh, great.
“Yes,” he finally answered, “I’d love to.”
I quickly intervened. “I’m sure you have things to do, right? Like find Jimmy and all that? I mean, perhaps this isn’t a good time.”
Thorne patted his flat belly. “No, this is a fine time. I could use a break.”
“Cave jail getting to be too much for you?”
He ignored my jab. “Can I help set the table?”
Rose beamed. “You and Charming can set the table while Glinda and I finish the meal.”
“We don’t even have a dining room,” I fumed.
“That’s ridiculous, Charming,” Mama said. “All you have to do is ask for it. Everyone knows that.”
My mother strode past me, clapping her hands. “House, we need a dining room and a table that will seat at least six. Wall sconces would be nice, too—oh, and a buffet filled with china.”
“Would you also like the house to polish the silver?”
“Good point,” she said. “You heard what Charming said. Polished silver.”
I shook my head. Why me? A moment later, after the house coughed and rumbled, a dining room sprouted off the front hallway.
I shot Thorne a dark look. “Well, what are you waiting for? Help me set the table.”
Without one iota of an argument, Thorne silently followed. I opened the buffet’s drawers and found everything we needed, handing off the silverware to Thorne.
“If it bothers you that I’m staying, I can leave,” he said quietly.
“Why would it bother me? You could just attack any of us and drink our blood for your meal, at any moment. Why should I be bothered by that?”
“Charming!” My mother appeared in the doorway. “I didn’t raise you to be rude to guests. Now apologize to Mr. Blackwood.”
I mean, was it really necessary to be treated like a five-year-old?
“Apologize,” she repeated.
I needed to get my mom to leave this town ASAP. She was cramping my style.
But I plastered on my sweetest smile and tipped my head down like a submissive lady. “I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwood, for suggesting you might want to snack on one of us instead of fried chicken.” I turned to Mama. “Was that better?”
“No.”
“It’s okay, Ms. Calhoun,” Thorne directed to my mother. “You should’ve been here when I arrived to take the police chief job. Those who didn’t fear me still hated me. I’m used to it.”
“It won’t be that way in this house,” she said, giving me a look so stern it could’ve melted my hair.
I withered. “Sorry,” I muttered to Thorne. I sort-of meant it.
I shut my mouth and finished setting plates. I moved past Thorne, being sure to keep a wide berth lest he smell the blood pulsing at my throat and want to take a nibble.
I’d laid all the plates, glasses and coffee cups except for the last. I leaned over to set it at the same time that Thorne crossed over to place the last spoon.
We were both going for the same side. My hand brushed his arm, knocking the cup from its saucer.
Quick as mercury, Thorne’s hand flashed in the air. He caught the cup and extended it toward me as if it were some sort of peace offering.
“For you,” he said softly.
I dragged my gaze from his hand, where for the first time I noticed Thorne wore a fitted black suit jacket with a white shirt underneath. His silver eyes softened as our gazes met. I peered at him as if hoping some sort of secret about the man would be revealed.
Pain flashed in his eyes, and Thorne quickly looked away.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
“You’re welcome.”
Tension filled the room as if the sudden dissolving of our dammed-up anger for each other had caused a shift that neither of us knew how to deal with.
If we weren’t annoyed with one another, what could we be?
Mama sailed in. “Dinner’s ready!” She carried a tray piled high with steaming fried chicken. It smelled like heaven had swooped down to earth. “Rose is bringing the mashed potatoes.”
Rose entered, Pig tucked under one arm and mashed potatoes in the other.
Thorne quickly took the potatoes from her and settled them on the table.
Rose surveyed the place settings before cocking her head in confusion. “Where’s Pig’s spot?”
“On the floor,” Mama chirped.
Rose obeyed and we settled into our seats. As Mama passed the food, she fixed an eye on Thorne.
“Now, Mr. Blackwood,” she said.
“Yes?”
She threaded her fingers and steepled them under her chin. “Tell us everything about you. All your deep, dark secrets. Because I know you have them.”
SIXTEEN
Thorne cleared his throat. Was the vampire nervous? Did they get nervous? I doubted it. But there he sat, clearing his gizzard like he had
a gigantic frog stuck in it.
“You want to know my secrets?”
“Yes,” Mama said with a hint of smugness. “I know you have at least one, and I want to hear it. It makes no sense to me that a vampire would be policing a town full of witches—even a cursed town, or whatever is screwing with this place. So. I have to assume that you did something or ticked someone off to be forced here. After all, a person like you would want more in life than being stuck here, high in the Smokies where the Bigfoots roam.”
Bigfoot? I mouthed to her. With a flick of her hand Mama dismissed my question.
Thorne chuckled. “What makes you think I want more than to live in Witch's Forge?”
“Please. Don’t play me for a fool. I’m helping you, remember? After dinner we’ll discuss what I’ve found so far.”
“But we haven’t discovered anything,” Rose blurted.
Mother kicked her under the table. “Ow,” Rose said.
Thorne swiped a napkin over his face to hide a smile. “I’ll tell you what I can. How’s that?”
“Perfect. Maybe then Charming will be convinced you’re not a bad vampire after all.”
“I never said he was a bad vampire,” I protested.
“You act like it,” Thorne said. “Your hate for me is scorching.”
I couldn’t argue. “You haven’t exactly been welcoming either.”
“You broke into my house!”
“For a greater cause. To find my friend.”
His exasperation nearly blew the ceiling off the room. “I’m looking for him.”
“You also have a death to solve.”
“They’re connected,” he fumed.
“Now you agree with me.”
“I never said I didn’t.” Thorne glared at me and then turned back to my mother, because apparently dealing with her was easier.
Haha. Joke was on him. Mama was ten times worse than me.
“You’re right.” He slid a knife into the fried chicken. Sheesh, this guy was so well-mannered he made me look like a hick when I picked up my drumstick and sank my teeth into it.
I watched closely to see if he’d actually eat any of the cooked flesh.
