Kiss My Witch (Bless Your Witch Book 2)

by Amy Boyles

  She gave one side of the room a sappy, sympathetic smile and then brandished it to the other side. "I know why y'all are here. Y'all are tired of being alone. Y'all are tired of sitting by the phone on Saturday night, eating ice cream all by your lonesome, while waiting for that boy, the one who promised he would call, to give you a ring. Y'all are sick and tired, and I'm here to help. I'm here to take you from the trenches of singlehood to the basking sun of partnership. I'm here to give y'all what you've been craving. So now, who's ready to join me and learn the secrets to”—she lifted a stapled pamphlet—"Winning His Heart?"

  The room erupted in a riot of claps and cheers. I stood, mouth agape, waiting for someone to pinch me. Or better yet, slap me awake.

  I was not hearing this right.

  Couldn't be. Jenny Butts was giving a class on how to catch a man?

  Jenny beamed at the crowd. "I know what some of you are thinking: how is it that I'm lucky enough to gain your expertise?"

  "Oh brother," I hissed.

  A couple of witches shot me harsh glares, but I didn't care. The last thing anyone needed was boy advice from Jenny. What did her practice consist of? Talking him to death with gossip?

  Jenny slapped a hand over her heart. "Ladies, I know men. I'm not married, no, but I don't have to be. My Friday and Saturday nights are always booked, and not necessarily by the same beau. Wink, wink." She snorted. Vomit edged up the back of my throat. "I've always got a suitor calling me, and ladies, I'm going to show you everything I know so you, too, can capture a man and keep him. But not just any old guy, ladies—the one you want, the one you've been yearning for. Come with me and you'll learn how to capture the man of your dreams."

  Her mouth split into a cherry-red smile. She threw her hands up in the air, and the room broke into wild applause. Several women, overtaken by the Sunday pulpit–style sermon, rose from their chairs, clapping with fervor. I noticed one in the corner, one who happened to have a bundle of burgundy curls.

  "Reid," I said.

  Sera followed my gaze. "Let's go get her. We've got to save her from Jenny, before she turns our baby sis into a date whore."

  I narrowed my eyes. "A what?"

  She shoved me forward. "You know what I mean. Let's just go get her."

  I understood what Sera was saying—she didn't want Reid to become anything like Jenny. Not that I despised Jenny or anything, I didn't, but when you're the town gossip, there's a bit of a reputation that goes with that.

  We wove our way through the clustered chairs. It wasn't pretty, let me tell you. I bumped into one. "Excuse me," I said. Then I stepped on a witch's foot. "Sorry," I whispered.

  "Watch it," she shot back.

  Luckily the applause continued until I reached my little sis. She sat in the very first row, far off to the side. "Reid," I said, grabbing her arm.

  She threw me a wide-eyed look of horror. "What are you doing here?"

  "Come with us," I said, gently tugging her toward me.

  "Why?"

  "Because," I said.

  "But I want to hear what Jenny has to say," she pleaded.

  The applause started to die. I could feel the stares of witches as our conversation rose over the sound of clapping hands.

  "You can hear what she has to say later. Right now I need you to come with me."

  "No," she said.

  What? No? My little sister always did as I said. I was older, after all, and wiser. I knew more about things that would harm her, give her permanent brain damage—like listening to Jenny Butts, for instance.

  "Reid, come on," I said. "You're not seriously thinking about listening to her. The Mouth of the South? She doesn't know anything about men."

  "She knows more than you," she said.

  I have to admit, that one knocked a little wind from my lungs. "Reid, come on."

  "Dylan, is there a problem?"

  Crap. Jenny's amplified voice boomed in my ear. My intestines cramped and twisted. Uh-oh, I'd be stuck in the bathroom after this.

  I glued on my brightest smile and turned toward the roomful of women that were glaring at me. Yes, glaring. If they'd had cats with them, I'm pretty sure they would have thrown them on me to scratch at my clothes and eyes.

  My gaze reached Jenny where she stood, tapping one red fingernail against the wooden lectern. "No, Jenny, not a problem. We need Reid at home. There's something going on that can't wait. Sorry to interrupt. We'll be going now."

  Reid crossed her arms and jutted out that eighteen-year-old chin of hers. "I'm not going. I'm staying right here."

  "It seems Reid's made up her mind," Jenny said. "A smart woman ready to make more smart decisions. Dylan, you may want to stay as well. From what I understand, you could use a little love advice."

  Women snickered. Humiliation burned on my cheeks. "That's kind of you, but I'll be taking my little sister and leaving."

  "I'm not going," she insisted. Reid shot me a dark look. I screwed up my face in frustration. We stared at each other, neither one willing to give.

  Sera touched my shoulder. "I'll stay with her," she whispered. "Don't worry. You get out of here before they attack."

  Forcing a smile, I turned to the front of the room. "Okay, then. Reid will stay and learn everything you have to teach, Jenny."

  "Wonderful," Jenny cooed.

  I pivoted back toward the audience and saluted them. Yes, saluted. I was drunk on endorphins and adrenaline and wasn't moving rationally. "Sorry for disturbing your class. I'm sure all of y'all will learn lots from Jenny, a single woman without a steady boyfriend. Let me know how catching a man works out for you."

  Then I pretty much ran from the room before any of the witches could snatch me up and spell me or hex me or anything like that.

  I exited out into the blazing sun and pressed my back against the brick building. I gulped down several deep breaths and wished I had a glass of sweet tea to at least lift my mood. There was something about ice, tea and sugar that always made me feel better. Even thinking about it made me smile.

  "Please don't be sick on my shoes."

  I glanced up. The glare of the sun blinded me. I raised my hand, shielding my face, and noticed the frail form of Sumi Umi!

  "Sumi, I thought you'd be in your room," I said, ecstatic that she stood right next to me.

  "I needed some fresh air. After all, I can just as easily be killed out here as I can in there."

  Her bottom lip trembled. Boy, if anyone looked afraid for their life, it was this woman. She wore black from head to foot—granted it was linen, but I'm sure she still sweltered beneath the layers of clothing.

  "Sumi, I may have something in my store that will be a little cooler for you to wear but still be black. Would you like to see?"

  She glanced nervously from side to side. "Do you think anyone will be hiding in there, ready to pounce on me?"

  I shook my head. "How about I do a protection spell once we get inside? That way no one who wants to harm you can enter."

  She nodded.

  My lips coiled into a smile. "Great. Come on, sister. Let's see what I can do for you."

  We entered Perfect Fit, and I did manage a protection spell to keep anyone from entering who'd want to harm either myself or Sumi. The magic worked perfectly, and I almost patted myself on the back for a job well done.

  Then I realized Sumi would think I was an idiot since any preschooler with half the ability I possessed could probably work that spell. "Let me see what I can find for you," I said to her.

  Sumi sat straight backed in a chair. Her gaze shifted about the room uneasily. "You have very pretty things. If Loretta was here, she'd have loved your store." She pulled a tissue from her purse and blew her nose.

  "I'm so sorry about your sister and aunt. I can't imagine the sorrow you must feel."

  "No, you can't."

  Touché. I gathered a couple of lightweight blouses and skirts and sat across from her. "It's so hard to imagine. Em brought us all here to have a good time, and then s
omeone commits murder."

  "Not someone," Sumi said, her voice thin and squeaky. "Stormy did it, and she's still allowed to walk free. She could kill me at any time, Dylan. Any time! And that detective hasn't arrested her. Why hasn't he done that? I'm living in terror, afraid to even sneeze lest someone has spelled me. I might blow up! I don't know what that witch is capable of!" Her shoulders quaked as she collapsed into a heap of tears.

  I moved to the couch and sat beside her. I pulled her into a rather awkward hug. You know, the kind where you've got your arms around someone but they're not hugging back and you don't know how long to hold on to them. You want them to feel supported, but you don't want to invade their space for too long? That kind of hug. Eventually I did release her, and Sumi sank into the couch, her rigid back of steel no more.

  "Why are they killing us, Dylan? I can't eat; I can't sleep. My nerves are frazzled to the utmost."

  "I'm so sorry," I said. I stroked her shoulder. "But what makes you so sure it was Stormy who killed Loretta? I talked to her and I didn't think she liked either of you, but murder? I just don't see her doing it."

  Sumi swallowed several heaving gulps of air. "She was angry after we published the story about her swaddlers causing babies to fly. She sued and won. I thought that was the end of it. But then she wrote Loretta hateful letters. I didn't even know about them until I found a few stuffed in her diary. It was almost as if Loretta knew Stormy would come after her, so she brought them with her."

  I clicked my tongue. "She wrote a few letters. It doesn't mean she wanted to kill your sister."

  A crash came from outside. I jumped from the couch and ran to the window. Out on the street I saw a group of women who appeared to be in an argument. One of them shoved the other. I peered closer.

  "Oh no," Sumi squeaked. "There she is. I have to go." She scurried from the store. I followed behind. She scuttled like a roach away from the fight, while I marched right into it.

  Jean Noir stood on one side of the group, her basket in hand. "Stop lying. I saw a vial in your purse."

  Stormy backed away from her. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have any potions."

  Jean snorted. "She did too," she said to no one in particular. "It's a wonder that detective didn't find it. I saw it plain as day on Friday night, right before Loretta died."

  Stormy raised a hand in frustration. "That never happened. It's a lie."

  Jean pointed at her. "You can say whatever you want, but no one believes you." She flipped the ends of her clementine colored hair and crossed her arms with dramatic flair over her chest.

  Stormy lifted her purse. "I don't have any stupid potions." She opened it up and flipped it over. Pens, a wallet, a makeup bag, perfume, lots of used tissues—all tumbled out to the ground. "See?"

  Something fell with a clink. I watched as a glass vial shattered open. Everyone stepped back. The distinct smell of trollop flowers wafted into my nose. Stormy gaped in horror.

  Jean smirked. "Looks like someone's got a vial of trollop flower on them."

  It looked like Jean was right.

  TWENTY-ONE

  "It's definitely trollop flower," Grandma said, smelling the remnants of the liquid that had been salvaged from the broken bottle.

  Roman frowned. He slid the sunglasses off his face and wiped the bridge of his nose. "Is it a poison?"

  Grandma wiggled her fingers. "Hard to say. Trollop can be used for several different things—if cooked down enough, it won't cause any harm. This still smells a bit like trollop, so it may make the user sick but might not kill."

  "You can't be sure?"

  She adjusted the rhinestone tiara on her crown. "Do you want to taste it and find out?"

  "Is that a trick question?"

  "Yes."

  Roman shook his head. "The answer is no." He capped the specimen vial. Roman had taken a sample of the potion that had fallen from Stormy's purse. "I'll have to get this to the lab to be sure."

  "Lab?" I asked.

  He nodded. "Witch lab."

  "Of course."

  We stood inside an interrogation room in the police station. "Thanks for coming down," he said to Grandma.

  "You're very welcome. I haven't felt so important since I negotiated a peace treaty between the unicorns and the monkey king."

  I nodded. "I'm not even sure this is as momentous as that was."

  Grandma patted my shoulder. "There are many different levels of significance, dear." She glanced at Roman. "Detective, if there's nothing else I'm needed for, I'll be outside, waiting in the car."

  Roman nodded. "We're done here. Thank you for coming."

  Grandma sauntered out of the room, humming a tune.

  "I think she's catching on to you," he said, unfolding the cuffs of his shirt and buttoning them over his wrists.

  I twisted the end of my ponytail. "Not sure I know what you mean."

  "I think she realizes you're being sarcastic."

  "You think?"

  He smirked. "I know. Listen, I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, but I want you to stay out of trouble in the meantime."

  I frowned. "What do you mean, you don't know how long you'll be gone?"

  "I need to see Gladiolas while I'm dropping this off at the lab."

  He gestured toward the door. I stepped into the hall lit by god-awful fluorescents, a girl's worst nightmare. Please, no one show me a mirror.

  "You haven't talked to her yet?"

  He shook his head. "No. Believe it or not, she's hard to pin down."

  "Doesn't seem that hard to me," I mumbled. Seemed like all I had to do was flick a finger in the general direction of a few nonmagics and poof, there stood Gladiolas.

  He escorted me to the front door. "Anyway. Do you think you can manage to stay out of trouble for a few hours? At least until I return?"

  I nodded. "Of course. What sort of trouble could I possibly get into?"

  He shot me a dark glance.

  "Fine. Don't answer. Yes, I'll stay out of trouble." I gave him my most cherubic smile and left. I hopped in my old sedan and drove Grandma home.

  We walked into a battlefield.

  "What were you doing at Jenny's program?" Reid stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, toe tapping the floor like she wanted to pound the entire house into the ground.

  I snorted. "Sorry?"

  "You heard me."

  "Can I at least put my purse down?" I asked.

  Reid blew a strand of hair from her eyes. "No."

  "In that case, I was saving you, obviously."

  She squinted. "What do you mean, saving me?"

  Nan stood in one corner, Sera in the other. From the arm waving and wide-eyed expressions on their faces, I understood they'd already had their high noons at the OK Corral with Reid and had lost.

  I intended to win.

  Perhaps I was stupid. Or naive.

  I dumped my purse on a chair. "Reid, I really don't have the energy for this right now."

  "What do you mean, saving me?"

  I swear, if she could work magic, her hair would've been blowing in the wind and fire would've flamed from her eyes. Yes, she appeared that angry.

  "Reid, Jenny Butts is the Mouth of the South, always shoving her nose into other people's business. I'm only trying to help you."

  "Well, all of y'all can help me by staying out of my business."

  I grimaced. Little sister was madder than a possum in a skunk hole. "Reid, I don't know what Jenny was teaching you, but if you want man advice, you can ask me or Sera."

  "Or me," Grandma said. "In case all of you have forgotten, I was happily married to your grandfather for many years. Of course, he hated my work with the witch police. He felt a woman's place was in the home, not out gallivanting with unicorns."

  "Thank you, Grandma," I said.

  "That's how it was back in those days," Nan added. "Men didn't want women having outside jobs."

  Reid tossed her head, her cloud of hair settling down her back.
"Dylan Apel, you are the last person I need man advice from. You haven't dated since high school, and the first guy who shows interest, you find some lame excuse not to go out with him."

  I folded my arms and jutted out a hip. "Excuse me, I did not find a lame excuse so I wouldn't have to go out with Roman."

  Her eyebrow peaked to her hairline. "Oh really? What do you call getting all pissy about him tape recording a conversation? A conversation that kept you out of jail, by the way, and made him chief detective so he could basically protect you. What do you call that?"

  "I don't know—"

  "I call it lame, is what I call it. You looked for an excuse not to date Roman so that you wouldn't get hurt. All I'm trying to do is find someone to go out with every once in a while, and you're trying to ruin it."

  The words speared my heart to my spine. I inhaled, but the sting squeezed my chest. I had thought that about Roman so many times, but to have someone say it brutalized me. How was I so obvious? Even my own sisters knew my heart, but no one had the guts to shove my face in it until they were backed against their own wall.

  "Dylan's not trying to ruin anything, Reid," Sera said from the couch.

  Reid stopped her with a raised finger. "I don't want to hear anything from you, either. I won't go into what a jerk Tim was, but I don't think you're in any position to offer sage advice, either, Sera."

  Tim was Sera's ex-boyfriend. The kind that breaks off an engagement but keeps calling, dangling you by a string for what seems like eternity. Yup. Tim did that. Total loser, but he's out of Sera's life for good now.

  Sera clamped her mouth shut and pressed a curtain of hair out of her blue eyes. "Fine. Do what you want."

  "I will, thank you very much." Reid entwined her fingers and cracked her knuckles. "So, if there are no other questions, I will continue to listen to what Jenny Butts has to say, and I will not, I repeat, not be embarrassed by any of you. You will hold your judgment for your own lives and leave mine alone."