A Drop of Witch (A Cozy Mystery Book): Sweetland Witch
Page 1
A DROP OF WITCH
SWEETLAND WITCH SERIES
ZOE ARDEN
REEDFOSTER PRESS HOUSE
A COZY MYSTERY BOOK
Contents
Copyright
Like my page
For You Personally
Dedication
About The Author
Personal Word from Zoe
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Prologue
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Chapter One
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Chapter Two
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Chapter Three
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Chapter Four
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Chapter Five
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Chapter Six
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Chapter Seven
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Chapter Eight
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Chapter Nine
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Chapter Ten
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Chapter Eleven
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Chapter Twelve
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Chapter Thirteen
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Chapter Fourteen
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Chapter Fifteen
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Chapter Sixteen
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Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter Eighteen
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Chapter Nineteen
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Chapter Twenty
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Chapter Twenty-one
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Chapter Twenty-two
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Chapter Twenty-three
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Chapter Twenty-four
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Chapter Twenty-five
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Chapter Twenty-six
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Chapter Twenty-seven
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Chapter Twenty-eight
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Chapter Twenty-nine
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Chapter Thirty
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Chapter Thirty-one
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Chapter Thirty-two
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Chapter Thirty-three
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Chapter Thirty-four
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Chapter Thirty-five
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Chapter Thirty-six
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Chapter Thirty-seven
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Chapter Thirty-eight
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Chapter Thirty-nine
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Chapter Forty
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Epilogue
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Preview of Next Book
Also By . ORDER OF BOOKS
For You Personally
Copyright
COPYRIGHT © 2017 BY
ZOE ARDEN
AND
REEDFOSTER PRESS HOUSE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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DEDICATION
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This book is specially dedicated to YOU- the reader!
First of all, I would like to thank you for picking my book and reading it.
Your interest to do so spurs me on to write even better stories, stories that will be capable in bringing us to a world of fun, mystery and suspense, albeit just for a little while.
Your support has always meant a lot to me and I hope you will continue to enjoy reading what I have written.
Thank you!
“ THE TRUE MYSTERY OF THE WORLD IS THE VISIBLE, NOT THE INVISIBLE. ”
OSCAR WILDE
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
* * *
It was from reading Agatha Christie’s mystery books that inspired Zoe to write cozy mystery novels. Zoe liked the fact that cozy mysteries are able to offer readers a form of escapism that typical detective stories can’t.
Like what Marilyn Stasio, who has been the Crime columnist forThe New York TimesBook Review since the late 1980s, recently wrote: “The abiding appeal of the cozy mystery owes a lot to our collective memory, true or false, of simpler, sweeter times.” It is Zoe’s desire that her writings will evoke that nostalgic memory in all of us; those memories of the good old days.
What sets Zoe apart in her writings is her fusing of Mystery with Paranormal elements, a combination which will bring about fantasies that are intriguing and engaging. Her stories contain unexpected twists and sometimes light-hearted moments that will make one smile at Zoe’s quirkiness, fun and wittiness in her writings.
Much Love,
* * *
PERSONAL WORD
FROM ZOE ARDEN
* * *
Hello, lovely reader!
In my stories, you will find a unique juxtaposition of mystery and paranormal themes, an attempt which I believe will be enthralling.
You will discover how a mystery case is being cracked through peeling off layers and layers of suspense and clues.
And fantastical creatures play a part in this…how can it be?
That’s for you to find out.
Thank you once again, for being such an incredible support in my writing career.
MUCH LOVE,
.
“Everyone, just calm down. Ms. Binford, if you have information regarding the whereabouts of Polly Peacock, then—”
“Not her whereabouts,” Margaret said, her eyes gleaming. “Her escape. There’s more to it than just her desire to kill Ava.”
Colt’s face darkened.
“What do you mean?” I asked, watching him.
“Polly doesn’t just want to kill you,” Margaret said.
“All right, enough!” Colt barked, pushing me back toward the exit. “Anastasia’s right. We have no business being here.”
“Wait a second,” I said, fighting him as he tried to force me back. “What’s she talking about?”
“It’s irrelevant.”
“Ava,” Margaret said, taking a step toward me as I struggled against Colt. “Polly wants her powers back.”
“What are you talking about? She can’t get her powers back. That’s impossible.”
Colt picked me up and swung me over his shoulder. He carried me outside as I beat against his back with my fists.
“What is the matter with you?” I screame
d. “Put me down!” I grabbed his ear and pulled hard.
“Ow!” he yelled and dropped me on my feet.
“What are you trying to hide from me?” I demanded.
“Ava, let me explain—”
The back door creaked open as Margaret stepped out. “Perhaps he doesn’t want you to know the truth.”
“What’s the truth?” I asked.
“Polly wants her powers back, and she’ll do whatever she must to make that happen. Including sacrificing those around her.”
“You don’t mean... like an actual sacrifice?” I asked.
Margaret nodded. “Five people.”
“Five!”
“And you will be her last victim, Ava. And she doesn’t just plan to kill you.”
I tried to gulp but my mouth was dry.
“What does she plan to do?” I asked.
“She wants your soul. And she’ll steal it by whatever means necessary.”
“Not her whereabouts,” Margaret said, her eyes gleaming. “Her escape. There’s more to it than just her desire to kill Ava.”
Colt’s face darkened.
“What do you mean?” I asked, watching him.
“Polly doesn’t just want to kill you,” Margaret said.
“All right, enough!” Colt barked, pushing me back toward the exit. “Anastasia’s right. We have no business being here.”
“Wait a second,” I said, fighting him as he tried to force me back. “What’s she talking about?”
“It’s irrelevant.”
“Ava,” Margaret said, taking a step toward me as I struggled against Colt. “Polly wants her powers back.”
“What are you talking about? She can’t get her powers back. That’s impossible.”
Colt picked me up and swung me over his shoulder. He carried me outside as I beat against his back with my fists.
“What is the matter with you?” I screamed. “Put me down!” I grabbed his ear and pulled hard.
“Ow!” he yelled and dropped me on my feet.
“What are you trying to hide from me?” I demanded.
“Ava, let me explain—”
The back door creaked open as Margaret stepped out. “Perhaps he doesn’t want you to know the truth.”
“What’s the truth?” I asked.
“Polly wants her powers back, and she’ll do whatever she must to make that happen. Including sacrificing those around her.”
“You don’t mean... like an actual sacrifice?” I asked.
Margaret nodded. “Five people.”
“Five!”
“And you will be her last victim, Ava. And she doesn’t just plan to kill you.”
I tried to gulp but my mouth was dry.
“What does she plan to do?” I asked.
“She wants your soul. And she’ll steal it by whatever means necessary.”
* * *
PROLOGUE
.
P olly Peacock stared through the bars of her window, watching the guard circle the building for the fiftieth time this hour. His feet trudged through the same path over and over again. Never veering. Never finding excitement. Just like her life at Wormwood Work Camp.
She’d been here six months and had six more to go. It wasn’t a particularly long sentence. She’d convinced the inquisitors from the Council on Magic and Human Affairs that she’d been nothing but a pawn in Slater Winston’s scheme to rid the world of witches, rather than the instigator.
“He used me!” she’d cried during the inquisition, sobbing into her hands.
When she’d peeked out between her fingers, she’d seen sympathetic faces and known she’d won some friends. Empathy was a powerful tool. Which was why she’d been shocked when the final verdict came down.
“One year in Wormwood Work Camp…” Dean Lampton, the head of the Council had read.
She’d smiled, happy with the outcome. One year in a work camp? No problem. She was already rising from her chair to take her place with the guards. She’d learned from the other girls in her holding cell that Wormwood was a breeze. She’d be able to make her way through the daily routine without even batting an eye.
But Dean hadn’t finished.
“...and removal of powers.” Dean set the judgment papers down and looked Polly in the eye without apology.
“Wait. What?” she had screeched. “Removal of powers? Why? For how long?”
“Forever,” Dean said, as if it went without question.
Polly’s heart had skipped several beats before resuming at an alarming rate. Ba-rump. Ba-rump. Ba-radadadadarump.
“You can’t take my powers!” she’d cried, but Dean Lampton and the others were already moving on to the next case.
Polly’s heart skipped again now as she looked at the moon and waited for the clock to change. It was the same upsetting rhythm her heart had made that fateful day. She had less than two weeks before the Wolf Moon would appear in the night sky. It wasn’t a lot of time, but it was enough. She’d be ready for it, no matter what. Especially now that she wasn’t alone.
There was laughter in the distance. Polly squinted toward the twinkling Christmas lights the camp had been decorated with and watched as the guard looked longingly in the same direction. It was Christmas Eve, and they’d decided that even here, in this isolated place, there was still something worth celebrating.
The inmates had been allowed to decorate their cells using paper snowflakes they’d made during arts and crafts hour. Tinsel had been strung from the ceiling. The warden had even taken to singing carols. Everything about the place screamed of Christmas—except the green grass and bars on every cell.
Polly wondered what it was like for Slater at Swords and Bones right now. Did maximum security prisons have Christmas trees and tinsel? Probably not. If things went according to plan, he could tell her himself soon enough.
Slater’s punishment had been worse than hers in some ways, easier in others. He’d received a life sentence for killing three people—two humans and one warlock. Plus, of course, the attempted murders of Sheriff Knoxx, Detective Colt Hudson, and that awful Ava Fortune. Just thinking of Ava’s pretty little face made Polly want to vomit. The goody two shoes had a way of bringing out the worst in her.
Maybe she was just bitter. That’s what Polly’s mom said. Anastasia Peacock had told her repeatedly to let things go, but how was Polly supposed to do that when she was still in here? Without her powers? Slater had no powers to begin with since he was human, so the Council hadn’t been able to strip him of anything. Despite his life sentence, Polly thought he’d gotten the lighter punishment.
She took a deep breath and turned her attention back to the guard. He’d stopped staring toward the party and started walking again. The clock struck midnight—prime witching hour. Polly started to move. She wished she could’ve made her move sooner, but her only ally in all of this had pointed out that without her powers, she needed every ounce of outside magic she could get. Witching hour would give her the extra boost she needed to make her escape.
She slowly removed the stolen wand from under her mattress. It had been waiting for her in the laundry room, right where her ally had said it would be. She tapped the bars with it, terrified it wouldn’t work, but the bars opened easily and she breathed a sigh of relief. Good wands always worked, even for dim-witches.
She shuddered as the thought ran through her head
Dim-witch.
Is that what I am now? She’d had powers once. Being stripped of them wasn’t the same as being born without them. Polly reflected on that as she made her way down the long, empty corridor. The proper name for her wasn’t really “dim-witch.” It was “criminal.”
The door to the outside swung open. Polly looked around, checking for the guard, and ran. The fence to freedom was still several yards away.
Polly’s first thought, when this escape plan was first hatched, had been to go to her mother’s after getting out. Her new friend had told her that would be a mistake.
“They’ll be watching her.”
Polly had nodded her agreement. Her mother’s home and shop were off the table.
“I can go to you,” Polly had said.
“Oh, no. You can’t do that,” her ally had chided.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not taking that risk. Not for you. Not for anyone.”
Polly’s face had flushed. She had no idea why this person was helping her, and she didn’t really care. She wanted out and was grateful for the help, but this seemed like only half a plan.
“You won’t have time for visiting old friends, even if you had any left. There is work to be done once you’re free.”
“I know,” Polly had snapped.
“Then go about your work and stay away from people. Sleep outside. Heavenly Haven is warm even during winter. You won’t freeze.”
“Whatever you say,” Polly had muttered, gritting her teeth.
Her ally had leaned so closely in that Polly could smell the onions from their lunchtime sandwich. “Do not cross me, or you will regret it.”
Polly had nodded and forced her lips sealed.
She jumped as the guard suddenly came around the corner now and dropped to the ground, certain she’d been seen. He walked right past her, texting on his cell phone and looking bored. She shook her head and suppressed a laugh. When they found out she was gone, he’d probably be fired.
She stood up and resumed her trek to the fence. Just two more yards.
“Hey!” a voice called.
Polly turned and saw the guard staring at her with his mouth hanging open. Apparently, he’d decided to look somewhere other than his LED screen. She stared back at him, frozen. He took a step in her direction, and she sprinted toward the fence. He began chasing her. His whistle blared loudly. He muttered an incantation, and the whistle suddenly amplified a hundred times. It could be heard across the whole work camp.
A horn blared.
Spotlights began searching the ground.
“Stop!” the guard yelled.
Polly ran faster. She pointed the wand in the guard’s direction, attempting to cast a simple rope spell to tangle his feet.