Starstruck Witch

by January Daphne

  I did my best to cover Benjamin from the worst of the rain, but we were both getting drenched. Now that Roger Spitz had slowed me down, there was no way I’d have time to interview Vicki before the spell wore off.

  I wasn’t even sure I’d make it to Savannah’s rental car.

  I slid the purse strap higher up on my shoulder. Even though the air was warm, I was shivering. Benjamin was, too. I could feel him trembling through the leather of Savannah’s designer purse.

  “What do you think of all that, Benjamin?” I asked. I could just see the outline of Savannah’s rental car on the edge of the parking lot. “I feel like we’re on the verge of a major breakthrough, but there’s some part of this that doesn’t add up. We have motives for some of the suspects, but in my opinion, they’re all kind of weak.”

  “You have to remember we’re dealing with a supernatural creature, so the rules are a little different. Their motive might be a lot deeper than we’re looking,” Benjamin said in a shaky, high-pitched voice.

  I mulled over what he said, still not sure what to make of it. “Then there’s that thing about the deaths from eight years ago. I know you all don’t think it’s the same person, but what if it is? What if Martha didn’t get rid of this shapeshifter eight years ago?”

  “That would be out of character for Martha, but I suppose it’s possible,” Benjamin allowed.

  “And come there used to be a family of shapeshifters on Wolf Mountain? You all seem to think that shapeshifters work alone.”

  “What that group of shapeshifters did was unusual for their kind. Out of all the supernatural creatures, shapeshifters tend to be the most secretive.”

  I accidentally stepped right in a puddle, splashing water up my legs. “How come?”

  “Think about it—they can take on the form of anyone—that includes any supernatural creature. When they shift, as you know, they can access the supernatural powers of whoever they change into. A skilled shapeshifter could change into someone as powerful as the Old One, for example. Their power knows no bounds, and if their secret was to ever get out into the general public—if a shapeshifter was captured by the FBI—it could potentially threaten the safety of the entire supernatural population. Witches, vampires, fairies, ghosts, demons, and familiars could all be exposed because a shapeshifter could turn into one.”

  “Then we’ve got to do something about Roger,” I said. “I don’t think Savannah would want to fork over that much cash—that number has got to be at least half of her net worth.”

  “And you must keep in mind, if that impetuous photographer actually does have proof that shapeshifters are real, he’s going to become a target for every supernatural creature in the world.”

  “So it’s for his own safety, too,” I said. “I suppose we can just get Dean to compel him to forget everything he saw and to destroy the evidence he has.”

  “For once, I wholeheartedly agree with your plan,” the poodle said.

  “That still doesn’t get us closer to who killed Tom Nelson though.” The heel of my shoe sunk into a patch of mud and I paused to regain my balance. “We started this investigation with five suspects, and I think we can rule out two. Savannah Silver’s out because of how she’s cooperated with the investigation. Also, she has no real motive.”

  “And that pudgy photographer Roger Spitz, seems to be more interested in making money than murdering anyone,” Benjamin said. “Plus he’s completely wrong in thinking that the shapeshifter is the actress. It’s possible that this could all be an elaborate lie to get you to show up at midnight alone with him, but I’m not sure he had the intellect to devise such a plan.”

  Lightning flashed—actual lightning this time—followed by a clap of thunder. The car was just steps away now. We’d at least make it there before we lost consciousness.

  “I agree,’ I said. “So we’re left with Lenny Holmes, Vicki Burgess, and Tina Price. All three were at the party and don’t have alibis. Plus, it’s possible that Vicki and Tina have connections to the other deaths that happened on the movie set eight years ago. Lenny would have been too young.” I mentally sifted through everything I’d learned about the two women over the last day. Vicki Burgess most likely hated both the producer and Savannah because it cost her the lead role in Blake’s movie—her big break. Tina hated Tom Nelson because of the sexual harassment that got swept under the rug.”

  Benjamin didn’t respond and I looked down into my purse to see his reaction. He was peering over the edge of the purse, his paws braced on the edge.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  His eyes moved with purpose around the area. “Natalie, I know those human ears of yours are nearly worthless compared to every other creature on this planet, but please tell me tell me you hear that.”

  “What are you talking about?” All I could hear was the pounding rain and the crunching of gravel under Savannah’s heels.

  “Someone’s following us.” Benjamin said, poking his fluffy white head out of my purse.

  Suddenly, my purse strap was pulled from my body, and two arms snaked around my torso. I tried to scream, but a hand pressed over my mouth before I could get a sound out.

  The stranger’s grip on me was tight enough to keep me from moving a muscle. I’d been caught.

  16

  My captor tightened his grip on me. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. It was Dean. I’d know that smooth, sultry voice anywhere.

  But an instant later, another thought dawned on me. What if this is the shapeshifter disguised as Dean?

  If that were the case, I couldn’t let him know I wasn’t Savannah—especially if the shifter was in the form of a vampire. I’d found out the hard way that vampires were tricky creatures to thwart.

  I did have my pepper spray keychain in my purse though, along with a willful toy poodle.

  The problem was my purse was now five feet away on the wet gravel.

  I heard Benjamin flailing in my purse, growling and yipping as he scurried out. In a blink, Dean scooped up Benjamin, clamping his hand on Benjamin’s collar so the poodle couldn’t bite him.

  Now both of us were restrained.

  I tried to think about how Savannah would respond to something like this. Was grabbing someone from behind in a dark parking lot Dean’s way of being playful? Or was I dealing with the murderous shapeshifter right now?

  I had a fifty/fifty chance of getting it right.

  No pressure or anything, I thought. It was just the difference between life and death for both Benjamin and me.

  Oh, how I wished I’d had my witch powers right now. Even if I wasn’t all that experienced, my magical instincts usually took over in high-stress situations.

  “Dean,” I said, smiling. “I’ve been looking for you, too. You have no idea that day I’ve had.”

  Dean spun me around, so I was facing him. His arm slid around my waist, moving smoothly down to the small of my back. The fabric of my tank clung to my skin, and goosebumps sprouted all up and down my arms.

  He licked his lips. “Oh, I think I have some idea. I heard your interview turned out to be more of an interrogation and that you almost succumbed to death by cashew. You haven’t been acting like yourself at all today, have you?” He leaned in, pressing his body against mine. “We had plans tonight, or did you forget?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Benjamin struggling to break free from Dean’s drip. Good luck, little poodle, I thought. But points for effort.

  I forced a smile. “I think I’m just going to go to bed early. How about tomorrow?” A clap of thunder startled me.

  Dean’s bright blue eyes roamed over my face. His expression hardened. “No, I’m not rescheduling for tomorrow. What kind of idiot do you think I am? You made out with my brother today. Are you just going to pretend like that didn’t happen?”

  My mind was spinning out over what to say next to Dean. Should I let him think his current fling cheated on him or sh
ould I come clean with who I really was?

  I didn’t want to make any rash decisions until I was sure this was the real Dean I was talking to.

  “It wasn’t what you think,” I said.

  Something flickered behind Dean’s eyes. “And what is it that you think I think?”

  “That it means Blake and I are getting together. It’s not like that.”

  “Oh, well that changes everything.” A smirk lifted the corner of his lips. “So you’re saying you’re still intensely attracted to me?”

  “Um… yes,” I lied.

  “And every minute with me is the most passion you’ve ever experienced in your life?”

  “I, um, think so,” I said, not sure if Dean was kidding or not. It almost sounded like he was messing with me. A knot formed in my stomach. What was going on? Was this really Dean?

  “Well, if you’re that into,” he said, tipping his head down, inching his lips toward mine, “then kiss me.”

  I stared in horror as Dean closed the distance between us.

  I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the kiss. But something inside of me recoiled. “Dean, don’t,” I said, turning my face away.

  He paused, and I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks. “Why not?”

  “Because…” I started, not knowing where to go from here.

  “Because, why?” He moved closer, bringing his lips to my ear rather than my mouth. “Because, you’re actually my brother’s girl?” He unwound his arm from my waist and shook his head. “Yes, I know it’s you. Blake gave me a heads up.”

  “How do I know it’s really you?” I said, taking a step back.

  He swiped a hand through his hair. “You drink your coffee with cream only, you pepper sprayed me once last winter, and you sleep with your mouth open—blah, blah, yada, yada—whatever. Did I pass the test? It’s me, Wilder.”

  “How do you know I sleep with my mouth open?”

  He ignored me. “Even if Blake hadn’t told me, I knew it was you the moment I touched you. I could hear the little heart of yours beating like crazy.” He smiled. “The way it always does when I’m around.”

  “Get over yourself.” I staggered over to my purse and rummaged in it for Savannah’s keys.

  Dean set Benjamin down on the gravel and wagged his finger at him. “Benny, I’ve got to say—this isn’t a good look for you.”

  Benjamin scrambled over to stand in front of me. He planted his feet and bared his teeth at Dean.

  I pressed the key fob and the car chirped. “That wasn’t cool,” I said, wrenching the door open. “But I don’t have the energy to yell at you the way I want to.”

  The movement made me feel light headed and my knees gave out.

  Dean was right there to catch me. “Hey—you don’t look so good. Are you all right?”

  I straightened my legs and shook Dean off. “I’m fine.” I lifted Benjamin into the truck and slid into the driver seat.

  The poodle shook his body, sending little droplets flying all over the cloth car seat. He lightly hopped into the passenger seat.

  “This spell is going to stop working any minute now, and I’d like to get home before it does.” I climbed in and moved to slam the door shut, but Dean caught it before with his hand before it closed.

  “Scoot over, I’m driving,” he said.

  “No,” I said, wearily.

  “Shut up and scoot over. I’m not taking no for an answer.” His tone had lost its playfulness. “You can barely walk. I’m not going to let you drive. Either you sit in that car until after you change back, or you’re giving me your keys.”

  “Fine.” I relented, scooting over and tossing Dean the keys. I positioned Benjamin on my lap and wrapped my arms around him. “Hang in there, little buddy,” I said. Even though the air was warm, the rain had an uncomfortable chill to it. Benjamin, with his bare legs, was probably freezing.

  Or maybe feeling cold was another sign that the spell was wearing off.

  The dog lifted his head and gave me a feeble lick on the cheek. Then he closed his eyes and rested his head against my chest.

  Dean steered the sedan onto the narrow road to my cabin. He flipped the switch on the windshield wipers to the highest speed and he cranked the heat, pointing the vents on Benjamin and me.

  He snuck a sideways glance at me. Then he shrugged off his jacket. “Here—put it on. I can’t have you catching hypothermia on my watch.”

  Wordlessly, I accepted the jacket, and slipped my arms through. I felt incredibly tired, so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. “The spell’s wearing off,” I said. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

  Dean reached over and put his arm around my shoulders. “It’s OK. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  17

  I opened my eyes and saw that I was still in Savannah's rental car, but I was back to being Natalie Wilder. Benjamin’s huge Rottweiler body was laying on top of me, with his legs spilling over into the driver’s seat.

  I shimmied out of Dean’s leather jacket and tossed it in the back seat.

  Though the driver side of the car was empty, I saw the back of a man in a white t-shirt and jeans, leaning up against the driver side window. I reached across the seat and punched my fist into the center of the steering wheel.

  The sedan let out a quick honk and instantly, Dean whipped open the car door. He winced, covering his ears with his hands. “Yeah, I heard your clothes rustle when you woke up. The horn wasn’t necessary.”

  I patted Benjamin’s side, checking to see that he was doing OK. At least he had transformed back into his Rottweiler body. He would have never forgiven me otherwise. “Benjamin,” I whispered. “Wake up.”

  “He woke up before you did,” Dean said, wiping the rain from his eyes. “He’s fine, just tired. I tried to help him into the back seat so he could sleep more, but he wouldn’t let me. I think he wanted to sit with you until you woke, too.” Dean shook his head, a smirk flickering on his lips. “That dog’s got some serious separation anxiety.”

  Benjamin’s eyelid cracked open, and he turned his head, giving me a lick on the cheek. “Oh good, you’re up,” he said quietly. Then he heaved a heavy sigh. “And now, I’ll need a twenty minute nap before I do anything else. That’s what happens when you get to be five hundred years old.”

  I gave him a scratch behind his floppy black ear. “I think that’s called a cat nap.”

  “What a ridiculous saying,” he murmured as his eyes slid closed.

  Satisfied that my dog was OK, I turned my attention back to Dean. “Where are we?” I peered through the windshield. Rain pounded on the glass, casting a curtain of water across the hood of the car. I couldn’t see anything but brown, green, and gray blurs.

  Dean’s hair was soaked, plastered to his head in a mess of tangles. His t-shirt was drenched as well, and it clung to his toned torso, leaving little to the imagination. “Clearly you didn’t go to Wolf Mountain high school because otherwise you’d know exactly what this place is,” Dean said. “We’re in Wolf Mountain’s premiere make out spot.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” Dean cocked a dark eyebrow. “So what do you say we keep the tradition alive?”

  I reached over and shoved Dean’s head out of the car. “I trusted you to drive me home and this is where you take me? What is wrong with you?” I reached around Benjamin to grab for Savannah’s purse. Hopefully, Savannah’s phone would have service out here—wherever “here” was, and I could call Blake or Angie to pick me up.

  Dean slammed the door and appeared in the passenger side window. He flung the door open and I recoiled from the cold rain.

  His hand locked around my wrist, causing me to drop the purse strap. “Relax, Wilder. I’m just playing around. I didn’t take you here for that,” he said. “This place is called Shifter Hollow.” He released my hand and stepped back from the car. “Come on. I’ve got to show you something.” His jeans were so drenched they were nearly the same dark shade as hi
s hair.

  I hesitated, wondering if this was some kind of trick. Then I realized he had the car keys so unless I planned on walking home in the rain, I wasn’t going anywhere without Dean.

  I carefully scooted out from under Benjamin and situated him on the seat so he’d be comfortable. Tentatively, I eased out of the car, surprised that it felt like I had to get used to being in my own body. No wonder Benjamin felt tired.

  Dean was beside me, holding his hand out. “Can you walk?” he asked.

  I nodded, gingerly putting weight on my feet. It felt so much better to be in my sneakers and out of Savannah’s crazy heels.

  Dean slammed the car door behind me and pointed across the clearing. The fog was thick here and I couldn't see more than ten feet in any direction.

  I shivered, feeling his hand on my low back. “What are you showing me?”

  “Martha’s dirty little secret,” Dean said, guiding me across the uneven ground. “One of them anyway.”

  There were patches of grass missing and the mud was thick from all the rain.

  I had to work to keep from slipping. I knew Dean could have easily raced ahead to wherever the destination was like he usually did when he got impatient going human-speed.

  For some reason, he must have thought it was important to walk beside me even though his jeans were already saturated from the downpour.

  Through the fog, I saw a porch made of rotting wood. Bits of paint still clung to some of the planks, but most of it had peeled off completely.

  Soon, the rest of the house took shape in all its dilapidated glory.

  I gasped, this was the house I’d seen in the photos—the one Benjamin refused to tell me about.