Hexes & Hot Chocolate (A Stella Storm Cozy Witch Mystery Book 3)

by Amy Casey

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up.”

  Harold turned back to me then. He held out the bat. Moved it closer towards me.

  “Bloody Dua Lipa. Anyway. Hold still,” he said. “It’ll be over in no time. Just a little bite. Just something to mark you with, like your family marked my Theo’s rear-end. Just something to remind you of what happens when you judge.”

  The bat was just inches from me.

  I pulled back as far as I could.

  Teeth snapping.

  Angry little mouth getting closer and closer.

  And then something happened.

  It wasn’t a bite.

  It wasn’t a scream.

  It wasn’t anything like that.

  It was the door to this garage slamming open.

  An old, bearded man stepped in. He had long white hair, but the same pale features as the rest of the vampires in this room. Around his neck, a vast array of necklaces and chains.

  He looked around at Theo, at the other brother, and then at Harold.

  And when he looked at Harold, his eyes widened in anger.

  “Harold White,” he said. “Come away from her right this second.”

  Harold stopped. The bat still just inches from me.

  “Y-yeah Harold,” I said, trying to sound tough but failing unimaginably. “Do what the wise, beardy old vamp man says. Please.”

  “But Dad—”

  “No ifs,” the man—the father—said. “No buts. You come away right this second and you leave the poor girl alone, do you understand?”

  “Dad—”

  “Do you understand?!”

  Harold stepped away. Slumped his shoulders. Sighed. He looked a lot less imposing now, that was for sure. “Yes, Dad.”

  “And pull your bloody trousers up, Theo. You look like a not-right.”

  Theo pulled them up. But he gave me a mean look. It didn’t have much impact, though. Not after I’d watched this trio completely humbled by their dad.

  They stepped out of the garage, and this man stood there.

  And then he smiled.

  “I’m Bernard,” he said. “Please excuse my sons. I’m sure you have a lot you want to know, don’t you?”

  I nodded. Then I stood up.

  “There’s—there’s kind of something else I wouldn’t mind first though,” I said, shaking with the adrenaline.

  “Anything, my dear. Anything at all?”

  I scratched the side of my head, looked away from Bernard. “You wouldn’t happen to have a pair of knickers around my size lying around somewhere, would you? It’s just…”

  Bernard looked at where I’d been sat. Then he looked back up at me.

  “Absolutely,” he said. “Not personally, but… well, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

  I’d had my answer well and truly.

  Vampires could blush.

  But nowhere near as much as witches who’d just wet themselves.

  Chapter 13

  One thing I hadn’t been expecting upon arrival at Nightthistle?

  To be bundled into a garage by a trio of vampires and held partly responsible for a retaliatory attack on their kind, all because my kind supposedly believed that vampires were behind the murder of my cousin.

  Yeah, that was all weird enough. Throw in an angry little bat and you’ve pretty much got the full picture.

  But what I definitely didn’t expect?

  That same vampire family to now be welcoming me into their home, treating me as a guest.

  Okay. Not quite. It was the sons who had ambushed me in the street, apparently. It was currently the father treating me like I was royalty.

  But still. It was all a little weird.

  Especially with some of the food this man called Bernard was serving up.

  It was afternoon, but the windows were all boarded up. I figured that was just the vampire way. That said, the room was really light. It must be some kind of light that the vamps didn’t mind. Apparently they had to wear some kind of super high factor sunscreen whenever they went anywhere. It was a myth that they were allergic to sunlight, sure… but that didn’t mean they didn’t have to keep tabs on their ultra-sensitive skin.

  I looked all around the lounge area I was in. Honestly, there wasn’t much differentiating it from somewhere back home at Nightthistle. Family photos. Some art on the walls—although a lot of blood red, which wasn’t to my tastes. The furniture was quite old and period, but then again much of it that I’d seen here in Nightthistle was, so I wondered if perhaps they just preferred that particular style and decor, here. I didn’t really want to ask, because period stuff was a lot more aesthetically appealing anyway, and I didn’t want to give them a taste for the modernities of the world I had come from.

  That said, the vamp gramp I told you about earlier?

  He was sitting opposite me right now, tapping away on his tablet computer.

  “This ruddy WiFi,” he said. Then he looked up, caught a glance at me. “Sorry. My manners. Excuse me. Do you want any more tea?”

  I looked down at the blood-red tea I’d just drank. Despite its alarming appearance, I actually quite liked the taste. “Go on then,” I said. “It’s pretty sweet.”

  “That’d be the bat blood,” he said.

  I spat a little of the tea out. “Oh. Actually. I think I’ll… I think I’ll pass on some more. But thanks.”

  He looked at me like he didn’t understand my trepidation, then took my cup away. “That’s funny. It’s usually the pig snot that puts non-vamps off, not the bat blood.”

  If I hadn’t already embarrassed myself by peeing myself earlier, I’d probably throw up right on the spot. Then again, I figured dignity wasn’t something I had to lose here anymore.

  Bernard stood up and walked around his lounge. He looked uncomfortable. “I have to apologise on behalf of my sons once again. They are reckless in their methods. But you have to just understand that they are on edge. We are all on edge. Especially after what happened to your dear brother.”

  I heard the way Bernard said “dear brother” and I found myself wondering whether there was a sincerity to what he was saying, or whether he was just being kind.

  “That’s… that’s okay,” I said. “I’ve been cornered a few times and had bats swung at me. But that’s the first time the bitey kind almost took me out.”

  “Foolish,” Bernard said, not really seeing the joke in what I’d said. “But you have to see… with the murder of your brother and the suspicion around the vampires, that doesn’t exactly leave us with much choice.”

  “Harold said something about a peace treaty?”

  “Indeed. Many years ago, there was war in Nightthistle and the surrounding areas. But for many years since… peace. Total peace. An agreement never to conflict again—or if there was conflict, to be big enough to accept it and take full responsibility. But this cold-blooded murder. And this… all this suspicion. It’s threatening to pull Nightthistle to the brink.”

  “You don’t get many murders?”

  “No. None. We aren’t that kind of town.”

  A pause. A silence that I knew I had to fill.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Bernard said. “‘We are that kind of town.’ We have to be. But no. We really aren’t. Being from the other side… you can’t even begin to understand how sacred the peace treaty actually is.”

  I thought of the many conflicts back home. “I wish humans would take a leaf out of your book when it comes to peace.”

  “Indeed. But anyway. Historically, vampires and witches… well, they go together like chalk and cheese, I believe you say.”

  “Some people do,” I said. “Never have, personally. Weird saying, if you ask me. I mean I know chalk and cheese don’t go together and that’s kind of the point. But they could’ve picked something less abstract. And sorry. I’m rambling again.”

  Bernard didn’t accept my apology. Just looked at me judgementally. “This old conflict. That’s why
the suspicion seems to have turned to the vampires. But I understand. Your family, they are bound to be angry. They are grieving. But retaliatory attacks aren’t going to get anyone anywhere. Which is why I stepped in on my boys. Because that’s foolish behaviour. And we will not stoop to those levels. Not if we want to protect everything we hold dear.”

  I looked at the floor. Because although I was here for family, I was here for something else, too. “Don’t you think there’s…”

  I stopped. Because I remembered the way Bernard had reacted when I quizzed him on whether he could have killed Curtis, after all.

  “What?” Bernard said.

  “Nothing.”

  He sighed. Shook his head. That same look of insult on his face, although this time without me even having to say anything. “I know you aren’t from these parts. So for that, I forgive your assumption. But again, let me reassure you. You may know peace treaties from your side of the world. But what you don’t know is anything like the peace we value here.”

  “Maybe so,” I said. “But someone killed Curtis.”

  Bernard nodded. “Indeed they did. In that, we cannot deny. But anyway. Even if my sons wanted to kill him, they couldn’t have, because they were helping me with something around the hours of the murder anyway.”

  “Do you mind if I ask you what they were helping you with?”

  He smiled. A big, toothy smile. And on his sharp fangs, I saw specks of blood. “Do you really want the gory details, Stella?”

  I looked away. Regretted ever asking.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “What we do is entirely within the realms of the law and ethics. But alas. My family was all together. It’s just unfortunate the police department around here aren’t too keen to believe that.”

  “The police?” I said. I remembered hearing that Nightthistle were looking for a new sheriff two months ago, around the time Thomas asked me to consider taking over. “Who’s in charge?”

  “Sheriff Butcher. Nice man. New to the job. But yeah. He has his biases.”

  “His biases?”

  Bernard smiled. “Well, he’s one of your kind.”

  At that moment, Bernard was interrupted by the slamming open of a door.

  He looked over, alarmed, as the wind blew inside, carrying a big dose of rain with it.

  And as I turned around, I wasn’t sure what I was going to see, either. I’d seen enough as it was. I couldn’t predict what else there was going to be out there to find.

  But when I turned, what I saw wasn’t what I expected.

  Who I saw wasn’t what I expected.

  “Stella!”

  It was Thomas.

  My cousin Thomas.

  And he was here with Becky and Tara.

  Bernard stepped in front of me. Almost immediately, out of nowhere, Harold and Theo barged into the room.

  Harold snarled. “I hope you’re planning on paying for that door.”

  “And I hope you’re planning on paying damages for the way you numbskulls attacked my cousin in the street,” Thomas said, walking over to me. “Stella. What’re you doing here?”

  “I’m—I’m fine. Really.”

  “Has he hurt you? Have any of them hurt you?”

  “No. Really, I’m fine.”

  But Thomas didn’t seem to be listening. None of them seemed to be listening. They took me by the arms, pulled me over to the door of Bernard’s house.

  And when I looked back, I saw Thomas squaring up to Bernard, and Bernard standing his ground. I saw Harold and Theo joining in the stand-off.

  “This isn’t over,” Thomas said. “Far from it.”

  Bernard looked over at me, met my eyes. And for a second, I swore I saw a look of regret.

  Then he just looked back at Thomas and sighed. “We’ll be ready, if we have to be.”

  Thomas leaned in towards Bernard.

  Then he stepped back and walked away.

  And as the door slammed shut on that family home, I felt like I was staring at a brewing conflict right in the eye.

  And whether I liked it or not… I was a part of it now.

  Chapter 14

  I sat around the table with my extended witchy family and the silence was piercing.

  It was late. Some time had passed since the incident over at the vampire household earlier. I’d insisted to Thomas and the others that I was just fine, and that Bernard was quite welcoming, if anything. But he seemed keen for me to understand that the way Bernard had acted was really just that—an act. An act designed to draw suspicion away from him.

  Make no mistake about it. As treasured as this supposed peace treaty was meant to be, it was pretty clear who my family held responsible for Curtis’ death after all.

  I looked down at the food in front of me. Instead of the taste sensations I’d experienced last time I was here, it was a big bowl of rather ambiguous slop. I didn’t know what it was. And to be honest, it didn’t taste that great. But then again I’m not sure I could eat even the nicest barbecue base pizza right now, not after what’d happened earlier. Too much of an adrenaline rush was surging through my system still.

  I looked over at Aunt Hilda. She was paler than I remembered, more tired around her eyes. The rest of the family sat in silence. Every now and then, there was a glance up to the empty, unoccupied chair around the table—Curtis’. There was even a mat out for him, like he was just away somewhere, ready to come home anytime soon.

  But he wasn’t coming home.

  And the sooner I could get to the bottom of what had happened to him—and why—the sooner I could give my family some kind of peace.

  “What brings you back here anyway, after all this time?”

  It was Aunt Hilda who asked the question. And she was short with me. Sharp with me. I could only assume she wasn’t too impressed that I’d rebuked Thomas’ proposal for me to come back to Nightthistle. But then… perhaps that wasn’t the case. There had still been no mention of my mum, which I found strange.

  I needed to get Thomas alone. I needed to question him on that.

  But at the same time… did I really want to?

  Did I want to flip over a stone and unsettle the insects that had been living there for years?

  “Curtis came to visit me,” I said.

  Tara spat out some of her food. “He came to visit you?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “And why in the hell would he do that? Why in the hell would he visit you and not—not his actual family.”

  “Tara,” Thomas said, his voice hard and firm.

  She shook her head, looked away. “It just annoys me, you know? Spend all our lives together in this house. He taught me how to fly a broom. He taught me so many spells. And when he’s gone… when he’s gone he goes to visit someone who’s barely even magic.”

  “You might not like me,” I intervened, seeing no point in wasting time here. “But this isn’t about who we do or don’t like. This is about Curtis. His ghost visited me. He told me he’d been murdered. And he wanted me to investigate it.”

  Silence around the table. Glances from one to another.

  “Now whether you have the highest opinion of me or not, Curtis came to me for a reason. And I can’t help thinking that reason is because he believes I’m capable of solving his murder. I know this is tough. I know… I know it’s not easy. I know what it’s like to lose someone.”

  I shot a glance at Thomas. Looked for some kind of reaction; anything that might offer me more on my mum’s situation, on what had really happened to her.

  But I didn’t see a thing change on his face.

  I let out a sigh. “I know what it’s like to lose someone,” I repeated. “But by the same degree, I know what it’s like to solve crimes, too. The crimes I solved back in Goosridge. I did that myself. I didn’t expect anyone to do anything for me. I used my brain. And I dunno. Maybe I’m not as powerful here as I was back there. Maybe I’m just a face in the crowd. But Curtis saw something in me, clearly. Even though I barel
y knew the guy, he saw something. So how about, just this once, you believe in me? Because he did.”

  Silence followed. I could feel tension brewing in the air. I worried that at any moment, Tara might just flip and send me flying out of this room. I had to be on my toes. At least my magic felt like it was returning, now.

  “Anyway. What’s this about flying a broom?”

  My attempt to break the ice didn’t go down all that well. It only garnered more silence.

  I waited a little longer. But when nobody spoke, I figured I only had one choice.

  “Right then,” I said, standing up. “If nobody’s willing to—”

  “The vamps are behind this.”

  It was Aunt Hilda who spoke. She didn’t look up. Didn’t even cast a glare in my direction. She just said those words, so cold, so certain.

  “Right,” I said. “It’s just the vamps insist they didn’t do this. They claim they were, however, on the receiving end of a retaliatory attack.”

  “And they would, wouldn’t they?” Tara said. “They murdered Curtis and now they’re trying to start trouble. But hey. If someone kicked their arses, good on them, I say.”

  “From what I understand though, it’s not a good thing,” I said. “This treaty. It’s been in place for years. Respected for years. What happens if it collapses?”

  This time, Aunt Hilda did look up at me. Glared right into my eyes. And I saw a different side to her bloodshot expression.

  “War,” she said.

  The door knocked, then. Almost jumped out of my skin when it did, the atmosphere was so intense in here.

  Thomas went over to get it. And when he came back, there was someone with him.

  A short man. Thick black moustache. Pointed hat atop his head.

  “Sheriff Butcher’s here,” Thomas said. “He has something to tell us.”

  Sheriff Butcher looked at me like I was out of place, like he hadn’t figured I’d be in this room. But there was something about him. Something… well. It had me blushing a little, I had to admit.

  “Well?” Aunt Hilda said. “Are you going to stand there gawping at the girl all day?”

  He cleared his throat, lowered his head. “I have some news for you,” he said.