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 22

by Danielle Garrett


  He returned my grin and then poured the wine. “Good.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t call or answer your texts,” I said. “It was a hectic day. Believe me, the chocolate roses were much-needed fuel.”

  “That’s all right,” he replied, bringing me a glass of wine and a plate stacked with food. As a part-shifter, he had the metabolism of a hummingbird and had no concept of portion control. If I ate the portions he routinely served me, I’d be in search of a new wardrobe within a month.

  “Thank you,” I said as he placed the meal before me, already mentally dividing the mountain of peanut noodles into four servings.

  “I had a busy day myself,” he said, returning to the kitchen to grab his own plate and wine glass. He joined me and we dug into the food. “The boss tried to pull me off the case because of my personal connection,” he said, gesturing at me with his chopsticks. “Surprisingly, Bloom stood up for me. Apparently, he and the sergeant are golf buddies.”

  From the niggling crease between his brow, I could tell this annoyed him, even though it had helped him under the current circumstances.

  “We spent most of the day combing through the dress shop. We even had some specially-trained fairies come in to try and reveal any lingering magic to get a clue as to what might have attacked both you and Aurelia, but they couldn’t find any trace of a curse or hex. It’s like it just … vanished.”

  I frowned into my entree and twirled my chopsticks through the noodles. “And Aurelia is still in a coma?”

  Caleb’s mouth tightened as he nodded.

  I took a bite, though the normally satisfying meal tasted bland as I thought of Aurelia in her hospital bed. They’d let me see her for a few minutes before I was discharged. Aurelia was a petite witch and looked even smaller in the stark white coverlet of her hospital bed. She’d been breathing on her own, but her normally glowing complexion was ashen and grey and her dark hair had gone pure white, the effect like a cloud of spiderwebs hovering around her sunken face.

  “The whole department is on the case, Ana,” Caleb said, concern etched on his face. “We’ll figure out who did this.”

  I tried to smile at his assurance, but it didn’t quite shine through the darkness hanging overhead.

  We ate in silence for a while, and I was tempted to offer to move the meal into the living room—even though I hated the idea of eating on my pricey sofa—simply to have the distraction of the TV. CeeCee’s theory came back to me and I paused, my chopsticks hovering over the lukewarm dinner. “Are you looking at Kara Kirk?” I asked.

  Caleb looked up, his expression blank. “Who?”

  “The designer Aurelia fought with at the wedding convention,” I replied. “CeeCee and I were talking about it tonight, and I’ll admit it seems far-fetched, but then again, they seemed pretty angry and ready to throw down on Saturday. The whole thing made the paper on Sunday morning.”

  “Hmm.” Caleb mulled it over for a moment, as he took a few more bites. Unlike me, he’d finish the entire portion he’d served up, and likely had some kind of dessert stashed away when he was done.

  “I don’t know if you noticed, but the dress in Aurelia’s shop window was the one that walked the runway on Saturday, the one that seemed to start the fight between her and Kara.”

  Caleb smiled. “I wasn’t paying that close of attention to the fashion show, baby.”

  I laughed softly. “And here I expected a five-page report.”

  He chuckled but then fell pensive again. “I’ll pay Ms. Kirk a visit tomorrow, first thing.”

  “Can’t hurt,” I replied. I sipped my wine, washing down my final bite, and then pushed my plate away. Caleb looked at the leftover food but didn’t say anything. “I still just can’t see why anyone would want to hurt Aurelia. I mean, even with Kara, I can’t help thinking some argument over a dress design isn’t worth hurting, or even killing someone, is it?”

  Caleb shrugged. “You’d be surprised. I’ve covered my share of murders and the motives can often seem petty. A lot of times, it’s a domino effect. Things stack up and stack up, and when one domino finally falls, things can get messy in a hurry.”

  “I’ve never heard any other rumors about Aurelia having issues with designers,” I said. “She’s well respected in the industry.”

  “Yes,” Caleb agreed, “but that level of success can often bring out a handful of green-eyed monsters, and some of those monsters have nasty claws.”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  “At this point, it doesn’t look to be a robbery gone wrong,” Caleb said, reaching for his wine glass. “The cash register was busted open in the blast, but all the money was still inside. Aurelia’s office had a wall safe and the wards weren’t tampered with. If someone had tried to get past them, there would be signs in the magic, but they were fully intact. She also had quite pricey materials in her studio—precious gemstones, crystals, diamond-encrusted tiaras—all of which our dwarf jewel consultant deemed authentic. If someone targeted her for monetary purposes, they would have cleaned all that out. So, from an investigative standpoint, we’re pegging this as personal.”

  I nodded, absorbing all the information. I’d spent countless hours in Aurelia’s dress shop and had admired the jewelry, hair combs, tiaras, and more. Stars, the dresses alone could have been stolen and sold off in some kind of underground market. An original Aurelia could fetch thousands of dollars. Multiply that by the likely hundreds hanging in the shop, and a bandit could make a tidy profit.

  “Come on,” Caleb said, placing his empty glass to one side, “let’s put a movie on.”

  At the suggestion, my mind dropped the swirling theories of Aurelia’s attacker and I gave in to the distraction, doing my best to push thoughts of the awful night as far to the back of my mind as I could.

  As the days passed by, things slowly returned to normal. The daily paper stopped featuring the story on the front page, office gossip and speculation quieted, and my black eye faded. The SPA released the crime scene and I was able to get the dresses that Aurelia had been working on for my clients. I’d lined up a new designer to finish the work on those that were in progress. No one was thrilled about it, but the show must go on, and I assured my brides they could still credit their gowns as custom Aurelias and no one would know the difference as they were in fact, her designs.

  Aurelia remained locked inside her coma, but she was stable and the healers assured me it was only a matter of time before they’d find someone able to identify and break the spell’s hold on her. I visited her every few days, mostly because it seemed as though she didn’t have anyone else. No partner or children. Not even friends, as far as I could tell. At least, none that visited. Her hospital room was a jungle of floral arrangements and gifts waiting to be opened, but whenever I signed in at the front desk, I couldn’t help but notice her room didn’t have any other visitors signing in.

  It saddened me to see her so lonely, though logically I knew she didn’t actually know she was alone. She was a workaholic, just like me, and it was almost like getting a snapshot of my future if I didn’t slow down and rearrange some things in my life. With the stark reminder, I moved some things around and cleared space in my day planner for Caleb and Harmony.

  The following Friday I had dinner reservations with Caleb and cut out of work early in order to stop by the hospital to see Aurelia before going home to change. As I was about to call it quits, Caleb called and cancelled. He was chasing down a lead and couldn’t break away. He suggested taking Harmony in his stead and by some miracle, she had the night off work. Harmony agreed to meet me there so we could take the bus to the restaurant together.

  I’d just taken my seat beside Aurelia’s bed when Harmony knocked softly on the door. “How’s she doing?” she asked, sliding into the chair beside mine.

  “The same,” I said softly. “They’re trying to bring her out of it, but they still don’t know what kind of spell or curse was used so there’s not much they can do.”

&nb
sp; “Man.” Harmony frowned and propped her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. “It’s good you come and visit her, Stace. That’s really nice of you.”

  I shrugged but didn’t argue. “I just wish I could have stopped this from happening to her.”

  Harmony scoffed. “Stace, you can’t do that to yourself. How were you supposed to stop this? If the best magic wielders can’t even figure out what happened to her, this is way out of your league, probably out of anyone’s league.”

  I chewed on my lip. “She was scared, Harmony. I can see that now. If I’d realized it at the time, maybe I could have—”

  Harmony placed a hand on my arm, stopping me. “This isn’t your fault.”

  We fell into a long silence. Guilt coursed through me. I’d replayed the night of the attack a hundred times, each time trying to shift my mental camera to see what I’d missed. The only conclusion I’d reached is that I shouldn’t have left Aurelia alone to face whomever or whatever had attacked her, and ultimately me.

  The menacing shadow visited me in my dreams sometimes, often just a flicker, though sometimes I felt it linger. Just nightmares. Caleb told me it was normal and advised I try a sleeping potion. I hadn’t taken the advice though. There was something drawing me to the shadow, almost like if I could look at it for just a second longer, that I might be able to figure out who it was.

  “I hate seeing her like this,” I said. “It’s a real wake up call, though.”

  Harmony frowned. “What do you mean?”

  I paused and drew in a slow breath. “She’s me, essentially,” I said. “I mean, before you came to live with me, I worked around the clock, ate most of my meals at my desk, never took a proper weekend off and vacation was some kind of foreign word. I keep thinking how easy it might be for me to end up like this someday.”

  “Stace …” Harmony said gently.

  “I’m serious, Harmony. I’ve been to see her three times and each time I sign in, I see the visitor log and no one besides her assistant has come to see her. It’s been almost two weeks.”

  “But look,” Harmony replied, gesturing around the room. There was a jungle of floral arrangements covering every flat surface of the quaint room, each one with an unopened card. “She obviously has a lot of people who care about her. Maybe they live far away and can’t actually be here.”

  I nodded, though I had the feeling if the notes were opened they would bear the names of other industry folks, past clients, employees. If she had family, wouldn’t they be here? It’d been a week since the attack. No one was so busy they couldn’t have found time to travel through the havens to see her by now.

  Dropping the argument, I reached out to squeeze Aurelia’s hand. Normally they were tucked under her covers, but today her arms were at her sides, on top of the crisp coverlet. I reached out to take one and the moment my fingertips touched her skin, a ribbon of heat snaked up my arm and I gasped. I tried to pull my hand away from Aurelia’s but couldn’t move, as though the limb had turned to stone, cemented in place.

  “Stace?” Harmony said. “You okay?”

  I felt my eyes go wide but I couldn’t speak.

  “Anastasia!” Harmony barked, using my full name.

  Darkness crept into the edges of my vision and the room went dark. I could still see Aurelia in the bed, but it was like looking through a black veil. Then, the shadow man appeared, sliding along the wall like a serpent. He hovered over Aurelia, levitating inches from her body.

  “Get away from her!” I demanded, a low growl in my tone.

  An eerie laugh followed. “Why? She belongs to me. I may do what I like.”

  My stomach twisted sharply into a knot. “N-n-no,” I sputtered.

  The shadow turned, his face coming into view. There were no distinguishing features. No eyes or nose or mouth, just pitch-black shapes and distortions. The tendrils of shadow flared and morphed into a mouth of sharp teeth. “Leave her to me, Anastasia, or you’ll be mine, too.”

  My breath came in short pants and my tongue was dry sandpaper.

  The mouth laughed, the sound cold and cruel. When it vanished in a cloud, the veil collapsed and the darkness swallowed me.

  Chapter Six

  “Anastasia? Can you hear me? Please, baby, say something! Anything.”

  Caleb’s pleading cut through the dark and I opened my eyes to a sickeningly familiar scene. Caleb swore even as a wary smile broke across his face.

  “Stace!”

  I shifted my gaze and found Harmony at the foot of my bed, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. “I—I—I’m all right,” I said, though it took effort even to whisper. It felt as though the energy had been drained from every cell in my body, leaving me heavy and unable to move.

  Harmony sprang to life at my words and launched to my side. Caleb held one of my hands and she took the other. “What happened?” she asked. “One second, we were talking and then, it was like you disappeared into some other world. You were yelling and crying, but nothing was happening, and then you just collapsed!”

  I drew in a deep breath and tried to harness any lingering sparks of energy I could find. “It was the shadow man,” I told them.

  They exchanged a dark look.

  “Aurelia?” I asked.

  Caleb frowned and squeezed my hand a little harder. “They’re with her now, but whatever happened, it doesn’t appear to have affected her. There’s no change.”

  Tears stung my eyes and I stared up at the ceiling. “Why is this happening?”

  “We don’t know,” Caleb replied, though I hadn’t really expected an answer.

  “Can I take her home?” Harmony asked him. “This place is giving me the creeps.”

  “You’ll have to take that up with the nurse,” Caleb replied. “We have agents sweeping the hospital, looking for any signs of … the assailant.”

  “It was the shadow man!” I said again, lowering my brows at him. “You can’t catch a shadow.”

  Caleb cleared his throat. “Someone has to be controlling the shadow,” he told me, keeping his voice calm and placating. “There’s no such thing as an autonomous shadow. Someone is pulling the strings, so to speak.”

  I was too weak to argue. The first time I’d been attacked by the shadow, I hadn’t been sure what to make of it, but now, it was crystal clear. The shadow was real.

  And it knew my name.

  I barricaded myself in my condo for the next week. Physically, I was fine. The second encounter with the shadow man hadn’t left so much as a scratch on me. Mentally? Well, that was a different story. Nightmares chased me in my sleep, and during the day, I was too jittery and paranoid to so much as nap, left alone as Harmony and Caleb went to their respective jobs. Any time I was left alone in the condo, I’d clutch Peaches to my chest and check all the locks three times before daring to attempt a nap or take a shower.

  Caleb tried to spend as much time with me as he could, but his department was consumed with the investigation and he worked long hours. I always told him I was fine, mainly to alleviate his own guilt. He didn’t need to waste time worrying about me when he had to be focusing on catching the shadow man.

  Harmony took a couple of days off work but I pushed her out of the nest too. Her boss, Marco, was a friend of mine, and I knew that if I made a call, he could spare her for a few more days on my behalf but it wouldn’t be fair to Harmony. She was saving up to get her own apartment in the haven and needed every shift.

  CeeCee came to the condo every afternoon with a briefcase full of work. I had a feeling she was handling the lion’s share on my behalf and only bringing the larger, more important tasks. When she came on Friday, I finally called her out on it when I opened the case and found three measly pieces of paper.

  “CeeCee,” I started, holding them up. “Where’s the rest? This can’t possibly be everything. There’s a wedding tomorrow and a bridal shower Sunday afternoon.”

  CeeCee smiled. “I’m aware.”

  I arched a brow.


  “It’s handled!” she protested. “I confirmed all the vendors this afternoon. Everyone’s on track.”

  I knew she wouldn’t lie to me about work. She knew how important it was to me. I looked over the paperwork in my hands; all three were requests from clients. I’d call them as soon as CeeCee left.

  But first—and, I suspected, the real reason she’d shlepped across town instead of just calling me with the updates from the office—we’d enjoy the coffee and pastries she’d brought.

  “Any idea when you’re coming back to the office?” she asked as we settled onto the sofa.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, rolling the paper coffee cup between my palms. The sweet scent of vanilla mingled with the dark roast espresso and wafted up to me, the effect more comforting than my favorite sweater. “Monday? I hope. I know I can’t stay in here forever, but what if I have another … episode? If something like that happens in front of a client—let alone in the middle of an event …” I trailed off with a shudder.

  “Well, not to put more pressure on you, but I’m not sure how much longer Hyacinth is going to buy the I’m sick story.”

  I frowned. “I’m surprised it’s lasted this long, to be honest.”

  “Maybe you could come to the wedding tomorrow? I mean, I can totally handle it, but it might be good for you to put in an appearance.” CeeCee leaned forward and plucked a blueberry scone from the small bakery box she’d brought with her. “You and I both know Tessa can be a little bit of a handful.”

  I laughed and took the chocolate cookie she’d left behind. “Yeah, a handful of TNT.”

  CeeCee cringed but didn’t argue. The demanding bride had given a good majority of the wedding assistants a run for their money over the eight-month planning process. “Can your beau pull some strings at the agency and get you a protective detail? Maybe just knowing you have someone watching your back would help you relax.”

  “Possibly.” I bit into the cookie, mulling over CeeCee’s suggestion as I munched on the decadent snack.

 

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