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

by Amy Casey

  I felt a pressing against my back, then. I tried to dig my feet into the earth below. The edge of the cliff was just inches away, the raging sea right below.

  “Thomas. What’s his part in all this?”

  Sheriff Butcher smiled. “Maybe he did kill Bernard. Maybe he didn’t. Whatever happened… it all worked out pretty perfectly, if I say so myself.”

  “You won’t get away with this.”

  Sheriff Butcher sighed. “That’s the thing, Stella. As far as everyone knows, you’re locked away—for life. And they’ll keep on believing that. And hey. Even if the truth does one day emerge… you’ll go down in history as starting a revolution. I have you to thank for that.”

  He put a hand on my shoulder. Tightened his grip.

  “Goodbye, Stella,” he said “it’s been a real pleasure knowing you.”

  I tried to hold back as he pushed against me. I tried to keep myself grounded.

  But then his strength overpowered me, and I found myself hovering in mid-air.

  I stayed there.

  Stayed hovering there, just for a few seconds. And I wondered whether I’d done something. Whether I’d found a way to keep myself levitating.

  But then my stomach sank.

  Because I was falling.

  Off the cliff.

  Down towards the raging ocean.

  Down towards oblivion.

  Chapter 38

  I felt myself falling and now more than ever, I found myself craving the luxuries of home.

  Well. That and I found myself screaming like mad, out of control.

  You know when you hear about falling, people seem to say things happen in slow motion? Not true. Rubbish. In fact, things felt like they were speeding up. What made it seem slower was that my thoughts were racing like they’d never raced before, so I was really just cramming in more memories and more plans and more oh-shits-how-the-shit-do-I-stop-fallings than I would do in a usual circumstance.

  I tried to move, but my legs were tight. I tried to invoke power using my fear and my pain, but nothing was happening.

  And as I fell towards the water, all I could focus on was Sheriff Butcher and how he’d said I was going to become a martyr for his cause. And that was the scariest thing of all. The thought that in the future when the history books were written, my name would be in there as one of the ones who betrayed the truce and all the institutions set up to encourage multi-species-ism (or whatever Nightthistle residents called it), and that history would remember me in such a repellent light.

  I thought about the happiness I’d seen on the streets when I’d first visited Nightthistle. About the way I’d seen vampires interacting with witches; fairies with Weres. And there was no sense of tension as I walked through the streets. There was none of the “impurity” as Sheriff Butcher called it.

  In fact, I was jealous. Because although my homeworld was working towards tolerance and understanding, it still seemed to have nothing on this place. Because as much as there were truces in place, it really felt like they were just there as a reminder rather than something that was holding things together.

  It was Sheriff Butcher’s scheming that had really brought this town to the brink.

  And who could blame the warring factions when family members were dying, left right and centre?

  Because this wasn’t about stoking a war between the species.

  This was about people losing family members, and trying to bring justice to those who were behind the chaos.

  I looked over my shoulder. The water was a matter of metres away now. The sea was rough. If I didn’t die on impact, I’d certainly get washed up by them and drown.

  And if I didn’t… well, Sheriff Butcher had made it perfectly clear I’d have a tough end on my hands at the “mercy” of the giants.

  I closed my eyes as I got closer to the water. Because as much as I writhed, as much as I tried to move, I knew I was finished. Sheriff Butcher’s plan had been perfectly executed thus far. So perfectly that I hadn’t realised that he was behind it, right up until the last minute. And by that point it was already too late.

  And as much as I hated to admit it, I saw my own prejudice in that denial that Sheriff Butcher could possibly be behind the murders. I’d believed that witches and wizards were the good ones. I’d believed they were the moral compass, and the other species were the ones that were in the wrong.

  But I was wrong.

  I was wrong because Sheriff Butcher was the orchestrator of this chaos. And I’d been too blind to see the truth.

  I took a deep breath, the water getting closer. The end would be here soon. It’d be over quickly. I just had to think of nice things. I just had to think of the smells of Witchy Delights, the laughter of Annabelle and Mary, the joviality of my dad, the cuddling of Beatrice and Rocky, the smile of Steve…

  I opened my tearful eyes and looked up.

  And then I saw them.

  The hooded figure.

  The faceless figure.

  They were standing at the top of the cliff, staring down at me.

  I didn’t understand it. I didn’t know who it was.

  But when I saw them… I felt that kindness again. That was the only way I could describe it. Kindness.

  When I felt it, warmth filled my chest. A voice whispered in my ears.

  “Don’t give up, Stella. Keep fighting. No matter what.”

  I didn’t know whose voice it was.

  I didn’t know whether it was something to do with the faceless man or someone else entirely.

  But when I heard those words, I bit my lip and I felt strength surge through me.

  “I can’t give up,” I said.

  You have to. It’s almost over. It’s—

  “I can’t give up!”

  I felt the splash of the water against my back. I felt time slowing down—for real this time. I felt the pressure of that water, like a wall, getting ready to punch the life out of me.

  Then I screamed out as loud as I could.

  “I can’t give up!”

  Stillness, then.

  Stillness.

  And in that fraction of a second, I wondered whether it was it. Whether it’d happened.

  But then the fact that I was wondering this at all meant…

  I opened my eyes. Looked over my shoulder.

  The water was beneath me.

  Right beneath me.

  But I hadn’t hit it.

  I wasn’t moving towards it.

  I felt strength within, around, all over. I felt my hands breaking through of their paralysed chains. I felt faith in myself, but also in that figure—whoever it was. Faith that they were there for me. That they’d helped me the best way they could.

  And I’d accepted that help.

  I kept my focus. Kept pushing. It felt tough. I felt like I was going to pass out.

  But I pushed.

  I pushed and pushed and then I felt myself rising.

  I watched the cliff fall past me in reverse.

  I heard the water getting further, further away.

  And although that faceless figure was gone, I knew they were still here. I knew they were with me.

  I knew whoever they were… they were helping me.

  I reached the top of the cliff, emerged over the edge, and I looked down at Sheriff Butcher as I landed on the rocks.

  He looked around. A frown crossed his face. “How—”

  “Hello, Sheriff,” I said. “I think we have some unfinished business to resolve, don’t you?”

  Chapter 39

  “How… how did you…”

  I looked across the cliff-edge at Sheriff Butcher. The rain was lashing down heavily. Thunder and lightning rumbled above, really adding wind to that theory that the weather often echoed reality in a scarily accurate manner.

  But I didn’t feel fazed by my situation. Not anymore.

  I felt strong.

  I’d stared death in the face. I’d accepted my fate.

  And then something
had happened.

  I’d seen the faceless figure. And while I wanted to believe that they were the one that had given me strength, that was only part of it. I’d conjured up the strength myself. I’d battled my way back here.

  And that strength was still coursing through my bloodstream right now.

  “You were supposed to stay down there,” he shouted, anger spitting out of the corners of his mouth. “You—you were supposed to be gone already.”

  I smirked. “Hate to disappoint you. But I’m very much here. And I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.”

  He lifted his hands then. Muttered a few words under his breath. And sent a large ball of red-hot energy surging towards me.

  I lifted my hands. Created a shield, almost instinctively. And as much as I was doubtful that it could hold the forcefield back… no. I couldn’t have any doubt.

  I felt faith.

  I felt confidence.

  The energy ball slammed against my shield.

  I held my ground. Felt myself sliding back, edging towards the cliff. And for a second, it felt like I was going to fall; that I was going to slide away all over again and all my hard work would be for nothing.

  But then I doubled down my focus, steadied my attention.

  And I burst that bubble of energy right before me.

  Sheriff Butcher looked on, amazement in his eyes. He was running scared now; I could tell that much from the look on his face.

  “You killed my cousin,” I said, stepping towards him. He fired more energy balls at me, but I was dealing with them much easier now. They were bursting, one by one before they could even get close to me. Made me feel pretty badass in all truth.

  “I did what I—”

  “Don’t you dare say you had to do it. You didn’t have to do it. It was a choice. A choice based on prejudice. A choice based on your own twisted idea about what the future of Nightthistle should be. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to my family? What you’ve done to my Aunt Hilda?”

  “Give me a break,” Sheriff Butcher said, as he charged up another energy ball. “They’re barely your family. I’ve known them longer than you have. So don’t pretend for a second that you care.”

  I slowed down then. What Sheriff Butcher said. Was it right?

  “You come here,” he said. “You pretend you’re the bloody police. You pretend you understand the issues, the intricacies. You’re arrogant, that’s what you are. An arrogance you've brought with you from your world.”

  I walked closer, realising Sheriff Butcher wasn’t charging up his energy anymore, realising that it looked like he’d given up, like he was backing down. “I see things the way they are. I see how things are back home and the issues there that are mirrored here. And let me promise you, history won’t remember you kindly. Not even if you succeed. There’s people like you back in my world who make people shiver, just hearing their name.”

  I was right close to him. His body was shaking. His eyes were streaming.

  “Give up,” I said. “Stop this madness. There’s still a future for you. If the people of Nightthistle really are as forgiving as you say they are… there’s a future for you.”

  He looked right into my eyes.

  Then, in that instant, I saw him glance to his left.

  I felt it. Felt it approaching, as if via a sixth sense.

  And when I spun around, I saw a boulder surging towards me.

  I dropped down. Scooted out the way.

  And then I heard a thunk, and a gasp.

  I turned around.

  Sheriff Butcher was lying on the ground.

  The boulder he’d tried to throw at me when I was attempting to make peace with him was by his side.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat.

  Then I crouched down beside him, lifted him up.

  It was time to end this.

  It was time for Sheriff Butcher for pay for what he’d done.

  And there was only one I could make him do that.

  Chapter 40

  I waited until Sheriff Butcher opened his eyes before beginning my final stage of the plan.

  I was at the cliff edge. The rain was still lashing down, although not as heavily as before. The clouds had parted, and the moon shone brightly down.

  Sheriff Butcher looked up at me, surprise on his face. “What… what…”

  “Don’t even try to get out of what I’ve got you in,” I said. “Because you won’t manage. You won’t manage because there’s no love in your life. You won’t manage because there’s nobody you care about. You only have hate in your life.”

  He looked up at me and did something different, something unexpected.

  He smiled.

  “You think you’ve won. You think by having me here, paralysed like this, that you’ve won. But you haven’t won. You’ll never win. After me, there’ll be someone like me. It’s how it goes, and how it’s always going to go from now on. But… but if you do this, you’ll be on the wrong side of history. You’re just a normie convict, nothing more.”

  I tightened my grip on Sheriff Butcher’s body, heard him wince. I edged him closer towards the cliff edge.

  “You have two choices,” I said. “You can confess. Confess what you’ve done. Confess to everyone and end this madness, and trust Nightthistle is strong enough to progress without you. Or you can die right here, and nobody will ever know what happened to you. I hear the trolls are very welcoming.”

  “Do it, then,” he said. “You just do it. End it here. I’d rather die than live in a town where our kind are overthrown. I’d rather die than live in a town where… where monsters can pull the strings.”

  “That’s exactly the kind of town you’re running right now,” I said. “But not for much longer.”

  He laughed a little. And even when I tightened my grip, he laughed some more. I sensed he knew something. Like there was a hidden ace up his sleeve.

  I stepped over him, edged him further over the cliff.

  “Do it,” he said. “Go on. But if you do… you’ll never know the truth about your mother.”

  I stopped, then. The mention of my mum, it sparked something different in me; awakened something unexpected.

  “What do you know about my mum?” I said.

  He laughed. “See. Now I’ve got you. Now you’re hooked.”

  I tightened my grip even more, watched his body writhe in pain. But he was all laughter now. No sadness, just all laughter. “Tell me the truth,” I said.

  “There is nothing to tell. She’s dead. She’s been dead for years. And you know what killed her? You know who killed her?”

  I felt my heart racing. My chest tightening.

  “A were. A dirty, violent were. Are they the kind you’re wanting to keep alive? Are they the kind you want to exist in this town?”

  I heard Sheriff Butcher’s words and they hurt. They hurt to hear, hurt to accept.

  But all I knew was that I wanted to throw him off the cliff even more than ever.

  All I knew was that I wanted to silence him.

  “Do it,” he said. “Throw me off the cliff. Do what you know, deep in your veins, you want to do.”

  I got close. Edged him right over, so that half his body was dangling over the edge.

  I looked at him. Saw him laughing. And in that laughter, it sparked a rage. A desire to silence him.

  But at the same time…

  I saw it. Saw it clearly in my mind. Heard it like a voice.

  “Do it!” Sheriff Butcher shouted.

  I lifted him higher. Lifted him right over the edge.

  “Do it!”

  And then I threw his body.

  But I didn’t throw it over the cliff.

  I threw it over my head, so he landed back on the ground.

  I turned around. Stood over him. And before he could move, I muttered the words and cast a stronger dose of paralysis over him.

  “I could kill you,” I said. “I really could.”

  I paralysed
him some more.

  “But that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? That’s all a part of your own plan. A plan to frame me. The outsider who comes in kills the sheriff. Cause chaos even within our own species. Wouldn’t you just like that?”

  I shot another dose of paralysis over him. And I noticed that he’d stopped laughing now.

  And when he looked back up at me, when he opened his eyes, I saw his lips moving, and I heard him speak. “Then what are you going to do?” he asked.

  I smiled at him. Took a deep breath. “I have just the plan,” I said.

  I knew it was going to be risky.

  I knew it was going to be nigh on impossible.

  But I was going to give it my best shot.

  And if it failed… then so be it.

  Chapter 41

  When Harold got the message about meeting by the cliffs in an hour exactly, he wasn’t sure what to make of it at first.

  And because of the cautiousness that was inherent in Nightthistle lately, he decided it’d be better off if he brought his family and friends along with him.

  Because if this was an ambush—if this was some sort of ploy from the witches or the wizards or the Weres or whoever—he wanted to make damned sure he wasn’t on the wrong end of it.

  And that he punished whoever was behind this, once and for all.

  He arrived at the cliffs twenty minutes early. The sea was strong against the cliffs. The sun was just about rising. As he looked out to sea, he marvelled at just how beautiful Nightthistle was, and how unfortunate it was that it’d been embroiled in a crisis like this lately.

  He wondered if things would ever go back to normal; if home would ever be like it used to be again.

  He had to believe it would. He had to have faith.

  But that faith was waning more and more by the second.

  “Do you see anybody? ’Cause I don’t see anybody.”

  Theo’s voice cut through Harold’s focus. And as much as it annoyed him, and as much as he’d wanted to stay absorbed in his settings and surroundings a little while longer, Harold couldn’t deny the truth of Theo’s observation. It was quiet. Too quiet, if this were some kind of cliched TV series, he might say.