Witchy Weddings: A Magic Witch Mystery Series: The complete Touch of Magic series

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Witchy Weddings: A Magic Witch Mystery Series: The complete Touch of Magic series Page 11

by Danielle Garrett


  The rationale made complete sense to me, and in a way, I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to rally together and host a big, beautiful wedding celebration with the cloud of Lucinda’s murder hanging so heavily overhead. However, Dimitri’s reticence to set a new date for the wedding gave me pause. According to their contract, they would only be held liable to pay the vendors, and their initial deposit would be used to pay my salary for the hours spent, but my commission was forfeit if the event was canceled due to a significant death in the family. I wouldn’t receive my quarterly bonus for overall performance without the Vanguard wedding to add to my roster, either. It had eaten up most of my time over the last six months, and I’d only had a few other smaller weddings in the gaps along the way.

  It was selfish to be worried about money in light of everything going on, but I couldn’t help feeling a little pinched. Harmony worked near full-time hours at Luna, but I never asked her to chip in for living expenses. When she’d showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night a month before, I’d offered to let her stay with me until she got back on her feet. Asking her for a rent check would only delay her progress toward rebooting her own life.

  I hung up with Dimitri and let out a long exhale as I studied the pages of my day planner. A handful of consultations were booked over the next few weeks, but no actual weddings scheduled for another three months.

  As if I needed another twist of the knife, Hyacinth appeared in my doorway, wearing an impatient frown. “Tell me it’s not true,” she said.

  I balked. “What?”

  Hyacinth heaved a dramatic sigh. “The Vanguard funeral is on Saturday. Not the wedding.”

  “How did you—”

  “It was in the Herald this morning,” she snapped, not waiting for me to finish the question. “This is a disaster!”

  “It’s just postponed,” I said, trying to pull at some shred of a silver lining.

  “And in the meantime, we’ve lost all the momentum. We had three magazine features built around the Vanguard wedding! It was going to be great exposure for this division and the human side. Now what are we supposed to do?”

  I didn’t have an answer. I’d forgotten about the magazine spreads. A human journalist with one of the most popular bridal magazines in the country was coming to photograph the venue before the guests arrived—less chance of a slip-up that way—and then two haven publications were covering the actual event. Thanks to the buzz around Alice’s questionable magic lineage and the Vanguard’s revered name, it was virtually the wedding of the century. At least the decade. The publicity spike was the reason we’d all put in such long hours, put up with Lucinda’s onslaught of requests and her ever-changing demands.

  And now … it was gone.

  Just like that.

  “I know the editor of the bridal section of the Herald,” I said, “I’ll call her and sell her on another wedding. Isn’t the Juarez wedding on Saturday?”

  Hyacinth stared at me, unblinking. I didn’t even think she was breathing.

  “I’m just saying, it would be better than losing the spot altogether,” I hurried to add.

  Still nothing.

  I cringed. “Wouldn’t it?”

  “Anastasia, there’s a reason why you were promoted to this position above all of the other junior associates, and that’s because you saved the Johnson/Fischer wedding from disaster. But between this and the disastrous Swan rehearsal, I’m beginning to wonder if I made the right choice when I recommended you for the promotion.”

  I felt my eyes go wide. Was she seriously suggesting that I let Lucinda get murdered? I was a wedding planner, not a bodyguard. What was I supposed to have done? It wasn’t my job to frisk the party guests looking for wooden stakes and Holy water.

  Hyacinth’s eyes flashed and she leaned in close, her hands planted on my desk. “I want the Vanguard wedding back on track and taking place in the next six weeks or less. And if you can’t arrange that, I’m going to have to have a serious conversation with the partners about whether or not this is the right place for you.”

  The words stung like a physical blow, and I was rendered speechless. Hyacinth didn’t wait for me to compose myself. With a final seething look, she spun on her pencil-thin stiletto heels and marched out of my office.

  “What do you wear to a vampire funeral?”

  Harmony had Saturday afternoon off work and to my surprise, volunteered to attend the funeral with me. In her words, no one should have to attend a funeral alone. I suspected her offer was born of curiosity more than anything, but I was grateful all the same. After working with Dimitri and Alice to alter all of the wedding reservations, they’d invited me the afternoon before, and I’d promised to attend.

  Two days had passed since Hyacinth’s vehement threat, and she’d ignored me since stalking out of my office, but her words echoed in my head with eerie likeness every time I looked at my calendar. So far, I hadn’t found a way to broach the topic with the young couple. Dimitri was stoic and somewhat detached from the process, and Alice was nervous about the SPA watching her every move. So far, they hadn’t arrested her or even taken her back to headquarters for further questioning, but Alice walked around on eggshells all the same.

  “Can’t go wrong with a black dress,” I replied from my bed. I needed to start getting ready too, but I was having trouble finding the motivation.

  I heard Harmony rustling around in my closet. When she’d moved in, all she had was a suitcase of clothes, but suspiciously over the last few weeks, her clothing no longer fit in the small drawer in the living room and she’d asked for some space in the closet. I’d cleared out a couple of shelves and a sliver of space on the hanging rack nearest the bathroom.

  “I’m wearing the black A-line dress with the cap sleeves,” I called out.

  The rustling stopped. “Drat.”

  I smiled up at the ceiling.

  “It must be so weird for them,” Harmony said, crossing into the bedroom, a wooden hanger dangling from the index finger of both her hands.

  Wordlessly, I pointed at the fitted knit dress with the three-quarter length sleeves that she held in her right hand.

  “It still seems weird to me that they’re having the funeral on the day they were supposed to get married. It’s so morbid.” She draped the rejected choice across the foot of the bed. Without blinking, she shucked out of her “artfully torn” jeans and tank top and pulled the dress over her head.

  “They seem to be keeping it together,” I told her. “I talked to Dimitri this morning. If anything, he’s more rattled over the thought of some SPA agent showing up and harassing his fiancée.”

  Harmony went to the mirror and gave herself an appraising glance. The dress was mine, but it fit her well enough. “I think I’ll add a belt,” she said, marching back into the closet. “Hey, do you think your boy toy will be there?”

  I blinked. “Boy toy?”

  Harmony laughed. “Your SPA agent. You were saying one might be at the funeral.”

  My stomach twisted into a knot. I hadn’t considered the possibility, having chalked it up to Alice’s paranoia following the night she’d shown up at my door. I hadn’t heard from Agent McCord since hanging up the phone on him. I’d already wiped the date from my day planner, using an eraser spell that left behind no trace that the date had ever been reserved in the book.

  “I mean, that’s what happens in all the cop shows,” Harmony continued. “They always send someone to watch the funeral because the killer might show up too.”

  “Stars,” I mumbled, cursing myself for suddenly wanting to tell Harmony to leave me the form-fitting knit dress.

  “You going to introduce me?” Harmony asked, appearing in the bedroom again, this time with a hat, necklace, and black silk sash around her waist. She looped the sash into a tidy knot and took a final glance at herself in the mirror.

  “We’ll see,” I said, pushing up from my reclined position. We had an hour until we needed to leave, but I decided I’d wa
ited long enough to start getting ready.

  We arrived at the Vanguard estate half an hour before the service was set the begin. I wanted to check in with Dimitri and Alice before they were swamped with guests. Harmony got out of the borrowed car first and started up the walk, not waiting for me. I scrambled to catch up to her, tossing the keys in my purse as I jogged up beside her. “Harmony! Wait!”

  “Stars, this place is cool!” Harmony gushed, her eyes aglow, flitting from place to place, like a starving person arriving at an all-you-can-eat buffet. “I mean, talk about setting a mood.”

  I frowned. “What mood is that exactly? When Frankenstein met Sally?”

  Harmony thwapped me on the arm and went on ahead.

  Still open-mouthed, she raised the elaborate door knocker and let it fall, giving a dramatic shiver of pleasure. “So. Cool.”

  I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile at her wonder.

  I expected one of Lucinda’s household staff members to answer the door, and was surprised when Dimitri greeted us instead. “Hello, Anastasia. And….” his eyes shifted curiously to Harmony.

  “This is my sister, Harmony,” I explained. “Harmony, this is Dimitri Vanguard.”

  Harmony had thankfully wiped the grin from her face, replacing it with a more appropriate demure expression. She extended a hand to Dimitri. “I’m sorry for your loss. We lost our father. It really sucks. Time seems to be the only thing that helps.”

  Dimitri looked startled by her words, and I nearly jumped in to add to her sentiment, but Dimitri smiled and took her hand. “Thank you. Please, come in, both of you.”

  Vampires always made a big show when inviting someone inside their homes, and Dimitri was no exception. He stepped back and waved his arm in a wide swoop, gesturing at the expansive foyer as he spun. Harmony went inside, and I followed behind. “Is Alice here?” I asked.

  When he didn’t answer, I turned to look at him and realized he’d gone as still as one of the gargoyle statues on the gables of the mansion.

  “Dimitri?”

  His gaze shifted, and in a flash, his irises went pitch black, the pupil taking up the entirety of his eye. I followed their path, back outside the entryway, and drew in a sharp breath, realizing what—or rather whom—had warranted the reaction.

  Agent McCord had exiting a black SUV and was headed straight for us.

  Chapter Nine

  “What are you doing here?” Dimitri hissed, stepping to bar the agent’s entry into the mansion. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Ana,” he said over his shoulder, “but we didn’t invite Agent McCord to attend my mother’s funeral, did we?”

  He said funeral with a particular force of emphasis, as if it were possible the agent had simply mistaken the gathering.

  Agent McCord didn’t buckle under the vampire lord’s icy stare. In fact, he walked up the steps with a casualness that ignored the fact he was in any danger at all. “I’m not here to invade your privacy,” he told Dimitri. “However, as you are so insistent that your fiancée is not who we should be investigating, I wanted to see if you would allow me to observe and see if there isn’t pertinent information to glean from the guests.”

  Dimitri bristled. “Everyone who was at the rehearsal, save Alice’s family and friends, will be here. I don’t see how you lurking in the background will reveal anything.”

  “As of right now, we’ve run out of leads. No one is volunteering information to the SPA, but that doesn’t mean no one knows anything about what happened. It’s entirely possible that I might overhear a conversation or notice strange behavior that could provide a clue and present an alternative narrative to what we’re working on right now.”

  Agent McCord didn’t speak in a threatening manner, but the meaning behind his words was clear. Either Dimitri let him spy on the event or else they’d drill in harder on Alice.

  “I assure you, it’s a common investigation tactic,” Caleb assured Dimitri.

  Harmony needled me with her elbow. “Told ya,” she said, speaking out of the corner of her mouth in a stage whisper.

  I nudged her back with my own elbow and shot her a be quiet glare.

  She shrugged.

  Caleb hadn’t so much as given me a second look. I could almost feel the chill radiating from his icy exterior.

  Yup, Sunday was now officially a romantic comedy and PJs night.

  Dimitri slid a look at me. His eyes were still dark, but they were dialed back a couple degrees from I’m-going-to-eat-your-face. “What do you think, Ana?”

  Only then did Caleb shift his eyes to mine. A twinge of pining prodded at me, but I ignored it and rolled my shoulders back. All business. “Dimitri is right. All of the guests here will have already been interviewed by you the night of the mur—rehearsal,” I said, stumbling slightly over the choice of words. I cleared my throat and continued. “Perhaps you should send another agent. Someone who would blend in with the other guests.”

  Beside me, Harmony straightened. “Wait. You’re the SPA agent?” she said, giving Caleb an appraising once-over. Then, her eyes lit up and she glanced at me. “Wowzers, Stace. You weren’t kidding about this one.”

  My cheeks ignited, and it was all I could do to keep from pinching her on the arm. Hard.

  Caleb didn’t break from his agent mode, and it was the only thing that saved Harmony from a bruised bicep. He gave us a nod and then raised one hand. In the blink of an eye, his entire face changed, the strong jaw and deep set eyes replaced by a forgettable, oval-shaped face, weak chin, thin lips, and squinty eyes.

  With a hint of a satisfied smile, he reached into his suit jacket and retrieved a pair of wire-framed glasses. He slipped them on, adjusted the knot of his tie, and then held up both hands. “Not a problem.”

  All three of us were speechless, standing before this newly invented version of the man.

  Harmony reached up and poked him in the cheek. She gasped and drew her hand back and I swatted it. “What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed.

  Agent McCord laughed, the sound unaltered by his concealing spell. It was the same, low-timbre rumble I’d heard in my office after going bottoms’ up (literally) in my office chair.

  The pining nipped at me again and this time, it wasn’t as easy to tamp down, even while Caleb looked like a door-to-door spellbook salesman.

  Dimitri frowned but he gave the agent a nod. “And you can assure me you won’t interrogate my guests? As you can imagine, my family has been through quiet enough this week. Especially Alice.”

  A fire flickered in his dark eyes as he spoke of his fiancée, sending a nearly palpable warning to the other man.

  Caleb nodded. “I am here simply to observe.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, Agent,” Dimitri said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Ana and I have preparations to attend to. You can return to your vehicle and come in among the other guests in an hour’s time.”

  Agent McCord nodded, seemingly unruffled by Dimitri’s command. I imagined being an SPA agent required being used to taking orders, though not usually from the subjects of your own investigation.

  Dimitri shepherded Harmony and I back inside and then closed the door with a resounding firmness. He paused, his eyes closed, and then shook his head.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder.

  He gave a single nod of his chin and opened his eyes. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  My chest squeezed and I looked at Harmony. “What can we do to help? Is Francois here already?”

  As the original caterer for the wedding, Francois had altered the menu and paired it down to serve the funeral guests. The majority of those in attendance would be vampires and with no humans—besides Alice—in attendance, there was no need for them to keep up the pretense of eating solid food. I assumed a variety of faux blood would be served instead. But there would be others from the haven as well—witches, wizards, and shifters. Francois and his team would serve other beverages and hors d'oeuv
res to the non-vampire guests.

  “He’s in the kitchen,” Dimitri said with a half-hearted wave of his hand in the appropriate direction.

  “Harmony,” I said, looking at her, “would you mind going and checking in with him? Make sure he’s all set.”

  She gave me a strange look, but didn’t question me. When she was out of earshot, I turned to Dimitri and swallowed hard. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m all right,” he replied, a faraway look in his eyes. “To be candid, I’m more worried about Alice right now. Every day I wake up, somewhat shocked to find her still in bed beside me.” He paused and swallowed hard. “Not that I could blame her if she were to slip away into the night. This entire thing has been a nightmare for her, and I don’t just mean my mother’s untimely death.”

  I bobbed my head. He didn’t need to elaborate.

  He scrubbed a hand over his clean-shaven face. “Sometimes I wonder if I wasn’t selfish, dragging her into all of this in the first place. When we met, she had this whole life, you know. Friends, a job with prospect to turn it into a career. She had a purpose, places to go, and now … well, now, she sits locked up in this house, afraid to leave because she might be followed or arrested.”

  “Do you think we should tell her about Agent McCord?” I asked, keeping my voice low. I’d been warned by Dimitri himself that the house had ears, though, if that were true, it seemed Lucinda’s murder would no longer be a mystery.

  He shook his head. “I’m not going to tell her. It would just upset her.”

  I placed my hand back on his arm. “You’re doing everything right, trying to protect her. She loves you, and I’m sure she isn’t looking for an escape route.”

 

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