Luck of the Witch (Crypt Witch Cozy Mystery Series Book 1)

by K. E. O'Connor

  “It got lost in the post. I wasn’t going to lose my best friend because Petra doesn’t know how to drive. Oh, and if it’s of any interest to your investigation, she was running because I was questioning her about Deacon. She has something to hide. Don’t let her fool you.”

  “Is Tempest free to go?” Wiggles asked. “I’m getting bored, and it’s long overdue breakfast.” His gaze landed on the muffin Dazielle had abandoned, and he grabbed it.

  “Hey!” Dazielle said.

  Wiggles growled at her, and she backed away again.

  “Fine, have the muffin,” she muttered.

  “Can I go?” I kept the grin off my face as I watched Wiggles scoff her breakfast. “Have I learned my lesson?”

  Dazielle shook her head. “Probably not, but you can go. Petra doesn’t want to press charges. But I’m keeping my eye on you.” She waved her hand over the null shield, and the door clicked open.

  “You can watch me all you like, but I’m not stopping. I’m going to clear my sister’s name no matter what it takes.”

  “Then you’ll find yourself back behind bars if you’re not careful.”

  I scowled at Dazielle before pushing past her, Wiggles hot on my heels. There was not a chance in hell of that. I still had suspects to question. Until I’d figured out which one of them killed Deacon, I was not stopping.

  Chapter 10

  I rolled my shoulders as I walked away from the Angel Force headquarters. “What a night,” I said to Wiggles.

  “You’re telling me. It’s not much fun being a hellhound surrounded by angels. They kept sniffing the air whenever they got too close as if they could smell something they didn’t like but couldn’t trace the source.”

  “Are you sure that wasn’t your gas? You did eat moldy cake from Axel’s trash.”

  “I’m telling you they smelt hellhound. I had to fake being asleep for hours and hope they didn’t twig.”

  “It’s too late for that now. You revealed yourself to Dazielle. Everyone will know about you. There’s no hiding what you are.”

  “I never wanted to hide. That was always you. Anyone would think you’re ashamed of being owned by a hellhound.”

  I looked down at him. My smile faded, and worry pricked at my gut. “I never asked; you don’t mind being a hellhound? I didn’t know that’s what you’d be when we brought you back.”

  Wiggles gave a yip of delight. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t mind being a regular dog, but now I get to live forever, talk, and terrorize people. I don’t see any downside to my upgrade.”

  “You don’t mind that most people are going to be terrified of you? You won’t get as many treats if people are too scared to approach you.”

  “Fewer treats? Huh, I didn’t think about that. Maybe I should look into getting lenses to hide my eyes and practise my cute begging face.”

  “You’d still have that hellhound smell.”

  “I’m no longer smelling of buttercups and sunshine?”

  I laughed. “You always smelt of grass and dog biscuits to me.”

  “That’s not so bad.” He sniffed his front leg. “There is a sulfurous tang to me now. I’ll get some cologne. That will sort the problem.”

  “Or you could embrace it. I like you as you are. Others will get used to you over time.”

  “Yeah, I’m a badass hellhound.” Wiggles strutted in front of me.

  “You have a cute ass, not a bad one.” I grinned as he lived up to his name by wiggling his tush. “Where did you go last night in the Ancient Imp? One minute you were gobbling chips off the floor, and the next, you’d vanished.”

  “I was clue hunting.”

  “What clue?”

  “I went through Petra’s trash.”

  “Not again. This has to stop. I—”

  “I wasn’t looking for food. I was hunting for food containers. More specifically, pizza boxes.”

  “Oh, right. Petra’s alibi. What did you find?”

  “A greasy box and a receipt that tallies with her story.”

  “She did eat pizza that night. But maybe she went out after that?”

  “She got the pizza at midnight, so unless she ate and killed at the same time, it’s unlikely.”

  I tilted my head from side to side. I wouldn’t want to commit murder with a belly full of pizza. “Let’s head to the cemetery, see how Aurora’s doing and if there are any updates from her end.”

  There was always at least one member of my family at Willow Tree Falls Cemetery, no matter the time of day or night. Willow Tree Falls had been built over the entrance of the largest demon prison in the world. The village might be small, but what lay underneath it was enormous. And the Crypt family was in charge of it all, making sure the demons didn’t break out.

  Weaknesses and cracks in defenses appeared for different reasons. Sometimes, a minor earthquake might cause a tiny crack and a demon would creep out. Sometimes, the demons worked together and used their combined strength to blast a hole in the prison. Getting demons to work together was rare. They all had such big egos that they rarely accepted help from each other, but now and again, it happened. When it did, it was my job to leave Willow Tree Falls and get them back, along with any other jobs Angel Force couldn’t handle. Oh, yes, and running Cloven Hoof. I sometimes surprised myself that I had any time to sleep.

  As I headed through the high black iron gates of the cemetery, I spotted a checked cloth on the ground by an off-white stone crypt. The door to the crypt was open.

  I poked my head in and discovered Auntie Queenie, Mom, and Granny Dottie inside cutting up sandwiches.

  “It looks like I’m just in time,” I said.

  “Where have you been hiding?” Mom said. “I tried to get in touch with you last night at the club. Merrie said you’d gone missing.”

  “Not out of choice,” I said. “Dazielle arrested me. She’s warned me off of investigating Deacon’s murder.” I walked over and grabbed a cheese sandwich.

  “That angel has clouds for brains. I hope you didn’t listen to her,” Mom said.

  “Do I ever listen to anything the Angel Farts say?”

  “Good girl.” Mom patted my arm and swatted away my hand as I made a grab for another sandwich.

  “We were setting up a picnic,” Auntie Queenie said. “Join us.”

  I glanced behind me. Surprisingly, Wiggles had hung back. Whenever there was food around, he always forgot his manners and was front of the queue. It looked like he was feeling a little bashful about being a hellhound.

  “Before we do, I’ve got something to tell you.” I gestured Wiggles into the crypt.

  He slunk in, keeping his head down.

  “It’s about Wiggles. He’s a bit... different these days.”

  Granny Dottie glanced at Wiggles. “We know. You and Aurora brought him back from the dead.”

  “Which is very dangerous,” Mom said. “You know how exhausting spells like that are. Your sister’s nose bled all night. You also know that anything could hop on board a spell like that. You could have brought all sorts of unpleasant characters back with Wiggles.”

  “We didn’t.” At least, I hoped we didn’t. It had been a selfish move using such strong magic, but I’d do it again to get Wiggles back by my side. “The thing is, we had some help from Frank.”

  Mom dropped the butter knife and glared at Wiggles. She hated Frank. He’d tried to kill Aurora and now lived inside me and refused to budge. “What did he do to your lovely dog?”

  “Nothing terrible. Well, nothing harmful to him. I think Frank has a soft spot for Wiggles.”

  Wiggles barely moved the whole time we talked. I could see his nose twitching. It must be torture for him looking so contrite when all he wanted to do was launch himself muzzle first into the pile of sandwiches.

  “Anyway, the three of us combined energies, and, well, Wiggles has come back as a hellhound.”

  This time, they all stopped fussing around the food and stared at Wiggles.

  Wigg
les raised his head, looking like the saddest, most innocent hellhound in the world.

  “He does have very red eyes,” Auntie Queenie said.

  “If he’s a hellhound, he’s immortal,” Granny Dottie said, “or, at least, ridiculously hard to kill. Demon water, maybe essence of Iris would do it. Your dog is now one tough little guy.”

  Mom shook her head and continued buttering bread. “If that’s all, then there’s nothing to worry about. So long as Wiggles is safe to be around, then he’s welcome.”

  “He’s safe,” I said.

  “We’d never turn him away just because he’s a hellhound.” Granny Dottie patted his head. “Would you like a sandwich, sweetie?”

  “I’d love one,” Wiggles said.

  Mom dropped the knife. Auntie Queenie laughed and clapped her hands together.

  “He talks!” Granny Dottie yelped. “Even better.” She threw Wiggles a sandwich.

  He gobbled it down and licked his lips before giving me a quick wink. The family had accepted him, and I couldn’t feel any more relieved.

  We spent a few minutes ferrying food out of the crypt and all settled on the blanket outside in the early afternoon sunshine.

  “What’s our next step in clearing Aurora’s name?” Mom asked.

  “I still like my theory that the biker gang had something to do with it,” Auntie Queenie said as she passed around plates. “They’re shady. They’re always up to no good.”

  “That doesn’t make them killers.” Mom passed around the sandwiches. “They’re overexcited boys with too much time on their hands.”

  “They try to undercut my market,” I said. “I’ve had to have words with them several times to stop them from selling things I have at Cloven Hoof.” No one trampled on my business niche. I was the mushroom and magic drinks specialist in Willow Tree Falls, no one else.

  “I bet they’re always happy to oblige.” Granny Dottie’s smile was sly. “Don’t you have a thing for Rhett?”

  I studied the sandwich I held. “No, I’m not into Rhett.” His muscles and dark hair did nothing for me. Neither did those eyes that were almost black and so intense, nor that smile that could melt an iceberg.

  “You’ve had a thing about him ever since you and Aurora were kids,” Auntie Queenie said.

  “My daughter does not date a biker,” Mom said sharply.

  “A few seconds ago, you described him as an overexcited boy. There’s no harm in dating someone like that.” Granny Dottie smiled at me, a gleam in her eyes.

  “I’m not dating anyone,” I said. “It’s just that I have to see him to warn him off of encroaching on my business.”

  “You’d think, with those muscles, he could turn his hand to all sorts of physical labor. The kind that gets him all sweaty, so he needs to take his shirt off all the time,” Granny Dottie said. “A few of those bikers have even turned my head, and I’m happily married.”

  “My head is not turned,” I said. “Getting back to the point, other than the fact they’re a bit shady, why do you think they could be involved in Deacon’s death? It’s not as if he hangs out with the biker gang.”

  “Maybe not, but I spotted that bike outside his house. Why visit Deacon if they weren’t doing something nefarious together?”

  “Maybe they wanted to offer him support in his campaign?” Granny Dottie said.

  “They’re not interested in who wins the role of mayor,” I said. “They do whatever they like, whoever is in charge.”

  “You should go talk to Rhett,” Auntie Queenie said to me. “He must be missing you since you stopped returning his calls.”

  “I’m not going to talk to the bikers or Rhett. And I didn’t stop returning his calls. He stopped calling me.”

  “Because you didn’t pick up or reply to his messages,” Auntie Queenie said. “A fine piece of leather clad behind like that is not going to wait forever.”

  “I’ve been busy,” I muttered.

  “We should invite Rhett to dinner one night,” Granny Dottie said. “It’s long overdue him meeting the family.”

  “No to Rhett coming to dinner.” I glared at Auntie Queenie. “We don’t need that hassle.”

  “You’re putting up too much resistance.” She waggled a finger at me. “You still have feelings for that young man.”

  I stuffed the rest of the sandwich in my mouth and chewed. “If it means that much to you, I’ll go talk to Rhett.” I’d prove her wrong. I wasn’t in love with Rhett Blackthorn. He was just hot and tempting; that was all there was to it.

  The ground beneath us trembled. Mom, Auntie Queenie, and Granny Dottie were on their feet so fast they were just a blur of movement. They raced into the crypt.

  I hopped up and followed them with Wiggles.

  “There’s a crack opened at the Cornwallis crypt,” Mom said as she stared at the glowing map that had appeared on the stone wall. The map showed the layout of the cemetery and highlighted any breaches.

  They grabbed long wooden sticks that leaned against the wall. To the impartial observer, they looked like solid, slightly twisted walking sticks. They were much more than that. They were powerful magic rods, imbued with so much magic no demon stood a chance when whacked around the head with one.

  “Do you need a hand?” I asked as they hurried past me.

  “No, you stay here with Wiggles and enjoy the food.” Mom touched my cheek, and I felt her magic crackle against my skin. “We won’t be a moment.”

  I glanced at Wiggles, and he shook his head and yipped. There was no chance we would miss an opportunity to watch Mom, Auntie, and Granny in action. It was easy to forget what strong witches they were when all they did was cook, gossip, and try to match make me.

  I ran along behind them with Wiggles, eating another sandwich as I did so.

  “You head around the back,” Mom said to Granny Dottie. “We’ll check inside the crypt and see how bad the crack is. We should have caught it early enough that nothing has gotten out yet.”

  “I’m on it.” Granny Dottie defied her seventy-two years by sprinting around the back of the crypt and leaping over several headstones as she disappeared round the corner.

  “There’s some serious girl power going on here,” Wiggles said.

  “No kidding. I hope I can jump over gravestones like that when I’m her age.”

  The crypt doors blew open. A blast of hot fetid air slapped my face. Mom stood in the entrance, the wooden sticks clasped in both hands. She spun and twirled like a ballet dancer as she slammed into the shimmering form of a demon as he attempted to slide through the crack in the prison.

  “He’s inside,” I yelled to Granny Dottie.

  She raced back around the crypt and threw herself into the fight with Mom and Auntie Queenie.

  “Those ladies are something else,” Wiggles said.

  “I learned everything I know from them. They’re the best demon hunters in the world.” I felt a rush of pride at being connected to this family. It was times like this when I wished I could stay around more and help monitor the prison.

  “Get back, demon,” Granny Dottie yelled as she slammed her sticks against the demon’s head.

  The demon roared and rose up, a mass of gray and purple smoke, as he tried to form a solid shape and raked his claws through the air.

  Granny Dottie danced out of the way, laughing as she did so, looking suppler than a twenty-something yoga fanatic than a seventy-plus grandma.

  Mom had moved behind the demon, and with a nod to Granny Dottie and Auntie Queenie, they linked their sticks together, surrounding him in a circle of magic.

  “No,” the demon roared, his rough, deep voice echoing off the stone walls of the crypt. “I must be free.”

  “You must stay where you are,” Mom said. “You need to serve your sentence like a good little demon.”

  “You witches cannot keep me contained,” he roared.

  “Of course we can, you butt head,” Granny Dottie said. “That’s our job.” She kicked him in th
e stomach as Auntie Queenie rushed closer and pounded his head with her sticks.

  With a final roar, he slid back into the crack he’d come out of, the air surrounding us filling with a dense, eggy smelling fog in his final act of defiance.

  Wiggles coughed and backed out of the crypt.

  I wafted my hand in front of my face. You could always sniff out a demon by their rotten egg stench.

  After a moment, when they were sure he’d gone, my mom placed her sticks against the crack and traced over it several times until it was sealed.

  Granny Dottie grinned at Mom. “Nice work, my girl.”

  Mom nodded and grinned as she patted Auntie Queenie’s arm. She looked over at me. “You should be eating sandwiches, not watching the show.”

  “I wanted to pick up a few pointers. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you take down a demon.”

  “Nothing ever changes.” Granny Dottie emerged from the crypt with the others. “They roar about injustice and being set free, and we tell them that’s not possible. That fight has made me hungry for something sweet. It’s time for cake.”

  We walked back to the blanket and were sampling a delicious, sugary, homemade carrot cake covered in a thick layer of vanilla frosting when Lula ran into the cemetery. She was waving at us, flailing her arms over her head as she approached.

  “Don’t tell me she’s got a half-price cut and blow dry we just have to have,” Granny Dottie muttered.

  “Be nice,” Mom said. “She does a great job on your hair.”

  Lula stopped and gasped in air as she reached the blanket. “Have you heard the news?”

  “I think we’re about to,” I said.

  Lula’s gaze went to the cake, and she licked her lips. “That looks nice.”

  “You can have a slice if you tell us what’s made you run like a toad with a rocket up his butt,” Granny Dottie said as she brandished the cake knife.

  “Oh, yes, of course. Petra’s in the hospital.”

  Mom glanced at me. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I raised my hands. “She was fine when I saw her last night. I didn’t touch her.”

  “That’s not the worst of it,” Lula said. “Aurora’s been arrested for attempted murder. Angel Force think she tried to kill Petra.”