Witch it Real Good

by Dakota Cassidy

  Two days later…

  After an amazing breakfast of cinnamon cream-cheese-stuffed French toast, it was time for us to face our future. I didn’t want to leave Marshmallow Hollow. Believe me. But if Win and I were ever going to live unencumbered by all that had passed, we had to talk to Dana and at least try to set the record straight.

  During the last two days, I’d explained everything that happened the night he died. How he misunderstood what Miranda had been saying the night he caught her on the phone. How Roger had fooled Miranda into believing he’d pay her to locate Win, only to stiff her out of the money he’d promised.

  And those conversation had been hard. For me to relay and for Win to hear.

  We’d also taken the opportunity to rest up, enjoy the festivities of Marshmallow Hollow, and spend a little time looking up Win’s mother and her family.

  We learned she’d died only a year before Win of ovarian cancer, but she had a brother and two sisters I was sure would welcome Win with open arms when he felt the time was right to introduce himself.

  As for Miranda and Roger? Hal managed to weasel some information out of Roger and, it turned out, Roger had a paid goon. A bumbling one, but a goon, nonetheless. He was the person responsible for not only trying to run Win over with the Lincoln, but the one who shot at us that night.

  She’d texted Win from England to let him know Roger had been so freaked out by how he’d arrived back in England, he’d given up the guy’s name and location in a fit of terror.

  So Win quietly located him in a hotel in Bangor, verified he was definitely the right guy because he was missing a finger, given Hal the information and without speaking a single word to him, she did what she does best—snapped her fingers and transported him—wrapped in duct tape—to the same spot where she’d dumped Roger.

  We still didn’t have an explanation for how Roger had found Win here in Marshmallow Hollow in the first place, but for now, we had to let that sleeping dog lie. Though, there was always the worry Roger or Miranda would tell MI6 and Interpol Win was still alive—or at the very least, someone who looked like Win. But I guess we’d cross that bridge if and when we came to it. We’d certainly crossed bigger.

  Anyway, according to Hal, she’d wrapped Miranda and Roger in duct tape like Christmas presents and dropped them at the respective doors of MI6 and Interpol. Miranda with MI6 for treason, and Roger—whose full name was Roger Hedgington, of the Hedgington shipping magnates—with Interpol, wanted for a list of crimes too long to mention.

  We hadn’t delved too deeply into Roger’s other crimes for a reason. For the moment, all we wanted to know was that he and Miranda were safely in jail cells.

  “I’ve loved having you here, Stevie,” Hal said as she gave me a tight hug. “You’ll come back, won’t you? Especially if you need a place to hide out?”

  I giggled at the reference. “And I’ve loved being here, Hal. I’m so glad you came and found me and shared your beautiful home and Marshmallow Hollow with us. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the envy of Christmas three sixty-five, but I love knowing I can come revel in it anytime I’d like.”

  “Absolutely anytime,” she whispered on a sniffle. “All you have to do is call, and I’ll snap my fingers.”

  I gave her another quick kiss on the cheek and a tight hug before I chucked Atticus under his beak with a gentle nudge of my knuckle. “Come visit us, won’t you, Atticus? We’d love to show you Ebenezer Falls.”

  Atticus buzzed at me in that darting way he had, hovering in front of my face, his long beak pointing at me. “For a love child, you’re not nearly as horrid as one would have thought. If I miss the scent of wet dog hair, rest assured, I’ll zip right on over. Until then, dearest Stevie, safe trip home to you and yours.”

  I laughed and pressed my fingers to my lips, blowing him a kiss.

  Hal gave Bel’s head a light stroke and smiled a watery smile. “Bye, big guy. Come back and see me when it’s warmer, huh? I promise you’ll love it.”

  “Bye, Hal,” he chirped, leaning into her fingers with a happy sigh. “Pop in anytime.”

  Hal smiled at us once more and gave both Win and I one last hug. “Okay, so I’m not going to draw this out. I hate goodbyes. So I’ll see ya when I see ya. Are you ready?”

  Grabbing Win’s hand, I latched onto Whiskey’s collar while Win held Strike in his other arm. Hal pressed a kiss to my cheek and snapped her fingers.

  With a rush of air in my ears, we landed right back in our entryway—all of us—Strike and Whiskey included. Whiskey took off toward the kitchen with Bel on his back, and Strike followed behind.

  That’s when I took a real look around.

  “Oh, Win,” I breathed as my eyes scanned the interior of our house, mostly happy to be home. “It’s breathtaking.”

  “Indeed, Dove,” he replied softly with a smile. “’Tis truly a wonderland of Christmas.”

  I took slow steps into the entryway, my eyes filling with tears because it was so beautiful. Every tiny twinkling light, every doorway, the incredibly graceful drape of the swag along the stair railing covered in ornaments and pinecones, the steps adorned with the very lanterns I’d said I loved so much, all lit up to perfection.

  The entire house virtually glowed. Soft Christmas music played, there were Christmas trees in every size imaginable, some covered in fake snow, some tall and skinny, some fat and squat.

  Everywhere I looked, it reminded me of Hal and her gift for making a home warm and welcoming. It was like I was in a dream.

  As we entered the living room, I almost fell on the floor. There stood the grandest tree of all, almost reaching our twelve-foot ceiling. It was totally bare but for some lights, but the rest of the room, from floor to ceiling, was filled with everything Christmas.

  On our distressed coffee table, where a wooden sleigh filled with pine and poinsettias sat, there were two mugs, tendrils of steam rising from them, and upon closer inspection, I realized they were filled with hot cocoa and two fat marshmallows each.

  Beside those mugs was a note on a piece of yellow legal paper.

  “Shall we?” Win asked, a question on his handsome face.

  I swallowed hard. I almost couldn’t breathe, my throat was so tight and constricted with emotion. “You read it. I don’t think I can,” I whispered hoarsely.

  He settled me on the couch and sat beside me, reaching for the note. Clearing his throat, he read, “Dearest #Stewin,” and then he looked at me strangely. “Stewin?”

  I giggled. “It’s a joke. You know, like a mashup of our names?” When his expression was still one of confusion, I waved a hand. “Never mind, I’ll explain later. Go on. Read, please.”

  “Dearest #Stewin,

  “Atticus and I wanted you to know how much we loved having you here in Marshmallow Hollow. Though, maybe the almost dying part wasn’t so great for you. Regardless, we’re so happy we were able to witness you both finally solving the mystery of who killed Win.

  “We know you have a rough road ahead of you and instead of dreading your homecoming, we hoped to lift your spirits just a little with some of our personal specialty—decking the halls with Christmas cheer. We left the biggest tree bare but for the lights, with the hope you two might be able to find some holiday joy in having a tree-decorating party for two.

  “Know our hearts and good thoughts are always with you, and we’re at the ready if you need us to come show Officer Stick-Up-His-Butt what the heck witch magic is all about. But most of all, we hope you’ll remember we’re family now, and if you ever need us, all you have to do is call.

  “Love now and always,

  “Hal and Atticus”

  I sat silently for a moment, too caught up between the melancholy of leaving Hal and Marshmallow Hollow, and the sweet gesture she and Atticus had prepared for our homecoming.

  “My dove?”

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  “I truly wish you had stayed with your sister and let me handle this,” he said, his voice deep
and rumbly.

  I looked up at him and made a face. “I truly don’t care. In for a penny, in for a pound. If I hadn’t messed up that spell trying to find you, I never would have landed in the afterlife, Win, and you could have stayed hidden until this Mandrake guy came up with some new credentials for you. But I didn’t, and you didn’t, and we didn’t, and here we are. There’s absolutely no way I’m letting you face Dana alone. We’re a team. We’ll always be a team. There’s never going to be a time when we’re not a team. Teams don’t let anyone in the game down.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better if only one of us lands in jail?”

  “Go big or go home, I say. I can help keep you out of jail, and so can Bel. And here’s something else to think about—if Dana does the unthinkable and decides to tell the world about Belfry, we use plan B.”

  Win sighed. He didn’t love plan B. “Pretend he’s bloody bonkers if he tells someone you have a talking bat and a reincarnated boyfriend.”

  I nodded my head and almost chuckled, but then, this was Dana we were talking about, and I prayed I wouldn’t have to do that. “If he pushes me up against a wall, yes. Then Belfry flies off somewhere for an extended vacation, and we tell the world Officer Dana Nelson is bananas. Who are they going to believe? Us or him?”

  Win rasped another sighing protest. “I have to tell you, I feel dreadful about putting him in this position, Stephania. We’re asking him to stay silent about a crime, no matter how fringe-ish my participation was, that I truly was involved in merely by tussling with those two men. He’ll forever war with himself and his morals.”

  I turned toward him and took his hand. “No. First, you weren’t involved in selling body parts, Win. That was the crime. You stumbled on that by accident, and I was a victim of that purely by coincidence. None of that was our fault, and the only reason we didn’t go to the police about it was because who’d believe us? Who’d believe I was sucked up into the afterlife and you found my soulless, lifeless body at Vera Brothers? We might not go to jail, but we’d sure end up somewhere for a psychiatric evaluation.”

  “I suppose when you say it out loud, it does sound quite psychiatric-evaluation worthy. But do you know what I can’t believe? I simply cannot believe those two nonces, the ones the Vera brothers had helping them, haven’t told the investigators how you awoke from the dead. You literally woke up seconds before being stuffed into a crematorium, Stephania.”

  I stared off at the Christmas tree lights, the soft glow soothing me, but my stomach was still in a jumble about talking to Dana. “Maybe they have, and the police simply don’t believe them. I mean, would you believe some of the stuff that’s happened to us if you hadn’t been where you’ve been? Ooor maybe they’re looking for me right now, too. Or maybe the goons don’t want to add to the list of their crimes. The possibilities aren’t limited. But it’s another loose end we need to tie up, Win. It’s not that different from your loose ends.”

  He reached for my free hand and held it, caressing my fingers. “Nay, Dove. With Balthazar as my host, I have a criminal history that far outweighs anything you’ve done. It’s as long as both your arms.”

  I tapped a finger on his chest. “Which is why you can’t possibly live out his life. You didn’t do those things. All the more reason to get you new identification, but how can we possibly expect Dana to believe you’re not Balthazar without telling him who I am? Who Belfry is?”

  He shook his head. “Still, we’re asking a heap of Dana. He’ll have to keep our secret, too. That puts him in a desperately precarious position. It’s not enough that he’ll have to stay quiet about my body hopping, but he’ll have to stay quiet about your powers and our talking bat.”

  Boy, did I ever worry about that.

  “I’ve never told a single human soul about being a witch before you. Not a single one. I was always so careful. But all my life, I lived with the fear of being caught. It’s why I loved Paris so much. We lived out in the open, and then when I came back here, I didn’t have any powers to hide anymore—there was only Belfry as proof I was once a witch. But I think what Bel said is right. If Dana’s truly my friend, he’ll accept who I am. And who I am, or who I used to be, was a witch. Now I’m just an ex-witch with witchy connections. I have to believe Dana wouldn’t want us persecuted for something we had no control over.”

  Win squeezed my hands. “There’s nothing I wish more than to believe Dana won’t hand us over to someone for money. My instincts are usually fairly sound, but I’ve had plenty of off days since inhabiting Balthazar’s body.”

  I patted his thigh and leaned back into the sofa. “The more I think about it, the more I think Bel’s pegged Dana correctly there, too. Dana isn’t the kind of guy who’d do something like that—sell a talking bat off to the highest bidder, not even for the sake of science. Not if he knows Bel is mine. So unless we have a better idea, he’s the only proof we have that the paranormal exist.”

  The fire in our fireplace crackled in our silence until Win said, “And you’re sure you want to expose yourself this way, Dove? It’s more than I’d ever ask of you.”

  I smiled at him. “It isn’t just about you, Win. I’ve had my hand in this, too. I want to come clean about all of it. Then at least there’ll be no more questions about how I know so much. In a way, it’ll be good to have it all out in the open.”

  “If Dana Nelson’s the man we think he is.”

  I pulled my phone from my purse and scrolled to Dana’s name. “Won’t it be nice not to have to hide, Win? Maybe that can happen if we confess everything to him. Then you can live loud and proud, with no fear of who might see you out playing on the lawn with Whiskey. It sure will be nice not to have to hide you in the backseat of my car when we go to Madam Zoltar’s.”

  Win chuckled. “Then dial him up. Let’s be done with this.”

  I sent Dana a text, and while I waited for him to respond, we sat quietly together, watching the fire roar and the lights on the Christmas tree twinkle, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

  Dana never responded to my text, but about twenty minutes later the front doorbell rang, and I think we both knew who was on the other side.

  Win slid from the couch and held out his hand to me, and I took it with a confident smile. Sure, my stomach was in an uproar for what was to come. I’d never revealed my entire self to anyone but Win. But I wasn’t nearly as terrified as I thought I’d be. Maybe that was because Win was with me.

  Strong and sure, he led me to the door and pressed the button on the video security camera to reveal it was indeed Dana.

  “Dove, are you absolutely certain?”

  I reached up and cupped his cheek. “I absolutely am.”

  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips. “Then know that I love you—now—always.”

  I smiled up at him. “Same. Now, let’s not pussyfoot around anymore. Our future as free people awaits.”

  With those words, I popped open the door and smiled warmly at Dana, who, as always, had his eagle eyes and officer-of-the-law expression firmly in place.

  “Stevie?” he said tersely. “Feeling better, I see.”

  I gave him a guilty look. “I am.”

  His jaw hardened in rigid Dana fashion. “Care to explain what that text meant?”

  “I do,” I said agreeably.

  And then his eyes latched onto Win, and they went hard and dark. “You,” he murmured in almost accusatory fashion—but then oddly, he smiled. “I know you.”

  But I ignored that and grabbed Dana’s hand, pulling him inside and out of the chilly night air. “Come inside, Dana, where it’s warmer. I have something I’d like to tell you, if you care to listen.”

  Win simply grinned at him and turned to head toward the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he asked, “Shall I pour you a glass of wine, chap? I have a feeling you’ll be in need of libation. Better still, do we have any whiskey, Dove? That might better suit.”

  I giggled, because I couldn’t help myself when Dana’s mouth fel
l open—likely at Win’s audacity to invite the man who wanted him in jail into the house for a bit of whiskey.

  “I think something a little stronger would be a good idea. A very good idea.”

  And as I took a stunned Dana by the hand and pulled him into our kitchen, where Hal had worked her magic in every nook and cranny, I sat him at the table by the bay window, where lights twinkled and a mini Christmas tree sat in the corner.

  I pulled a chair out for me, too, and looked directly into Dana’s eyes, eyes that held a million questions.

  Win brought over three thick tumblers and set them on the table to fill, and then he stood behind my chair and put his hands on my shoulders and gently gripped them.

  Reaching for Dana’s hand, I gave it a squeeze. “Dana? What I’m about to tell you is a little like the Teacup ride at Disney World. So make sure you keep your arms and feet in the ride at all times, and wait to scold me until we’ve come to a full and complete stop. You ready?”

  “Stevie,” he warned with that growl he had such a gift for.

  I grinned. “Okay then,” I said, clearing my throat. “Once upon a time, there was a witch…”

  * * *

  The End

  * * *

  Now-now. Don’t be too upset with me! I promise to continue this journey in 2020 with more editions of Witchless in Seattle, where you can find out what Dana’s going to have to say about the discovery his friend is an ex-witch with a talking bat and a reincarnated boyfriend!

  And I do so hope you’ll join me in Christmas 2020 for my new series, Marshmallow Hollow Mysteries, featuring Hal, Atticus, Nana Karen and a whole new cast of characters in a town that’s got Christmas on the brain three hundred and sixty-five days of the year! Until then, thank you so much for joining me. My best to you and yours this holiday season and blessings aplenty in the coming year!

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