Hexing with a Chance of Tornadoes: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Romance Novel (Grimm Cove Book 2)

by Mandy M. Roth

  “I should lie and say no, right?” asked Jeffrey with a laugh.

  “If you want me to avoid killing him,” she returned.

  “Then no. He totally did not send me to check in on you,” said Jeffrey, sitting back in the rocking chair.

  “Uh-huh,” she mouthed before laughing. “He’d lie and you’d swear to it. You two are partners in crime.”

  “Guilty as charged.” Jeffrey grinned and tried to be stealthy as he checked his watch to see how long it had been since Dana had left on her run.

  The squirrel came running out of the open front door. It leaped up, caught hold of Marcy’s skirt, and then looked a lot like Spider-Man as it hurried up her body to her shoulder.

  Jeffrey shot Poppy a questioning look.

  “Her familiar,” said Poppy.

  “Is a squirrel?” asked Jeffrey, understanding what a familiar was because of his time around Maria and the council. Hers was a chubby orange cat named Slim. It often accompanied her to Elder meetings, sitting on her lap, giving all the wolf-shifters a sideways glare throughout the entire event.

  Poppy nodded. “Mine is a wolf. Go figure.”

  “Dana’s is too,” said Marcy, still hard at work watering the seemingly endless potted plants on the porch.

  Nine

  Dana

  My earbuds pumped ’80s music out with a gusto that matched my mood as I ran deeper into the woods adjacent to the Proctor House property. When I’d started my run—all right, when I’d fled the temptation known as Jeffrey—it had been on a fairly well-established path. At some point that had changed without me noticing. Now I was basically off-path but was enjoying my run too much to stop now. It was cathartic and much needed for my sanity.

  The music playing through my earbuds only served to drive me onward. The song choice was one that others wouldn’t peg me for. After all, I wasn’t known to stand around waiting for any man to save me, let alone hold out for a hero. But the song was one I’d always liked.

  I increased my pace, already hearing the sound of my heartbeat in my ears over the sounds of Bonnie Tyler belting out her hero anthem. I wasn’t tired and it wasn’t a strain. It felt good to let go. Good to expel the energy I’d had building over the past forty-eight hours.

  Not to mention the sexual frustration and confusion I had for one hunky alpha wolf-shifter.

  “Just run,” I said, needing to keep from slipping back into it all in my head. Right now, my head was a scarier place to be than the supernatural hot spot of Grimm Cove. It was as if the town had stepped out of the mind of Tim Burton. It was paranormal themed. From the Hell Fire Charity Event that apparently benefited the fire department, to the Poe Day festivities planned for the coming days and weeks, it was hopping with strange and unusual.

  As I ran deeper into the woods, I found the ground to be damp because it clearly did not get the same amount of sunlight the outer portions received due to the canopy of leaves and the density of the trees. Old leaves covered the forest floor, which I suspected boasted many layers. It was an interesting mix of dead leaves that were varying shades of yellow, orange, and brown combined with the new growth of late spring.

  The entire area was beautiful and had a draw to it that left me wanting to dive headfirst into its depths even more. It didn’t matter that I more than likely wouldn’t find my way back to the house with any sort of ease. There was a pull that I couldn’t deny, so I didn’t bother trying.

  A dark blur of movement off to my right caught my attention, and I slowed my pace slightly, going on high alert. My first thought was a horde of evil vampires had found me and wanted to go another round, despite the first ending in a lot of piles of ash. Then I thought about the information on supernaturals I’d gotten from my long talks with Tuck Proctor. He’d told me that vampires couldn’t be out in the sun.

  Seeing as how I’d waited to start my morning run until the sun came up, the odds of whatever was out here with me being a vampire were slim. That being said, I was still going to be cautious because I was incredibly new to the world of supernaturals and wasn’t sure what else might be real.

  For all I knew, trees could come to life like in The Wizard of Oz, get pissy with me, and throw apples at my head.

  Hey, it happened to Dorothy.

  If Marcy had been with me, she’d have been able to tell me if the trees were on my side or not.

  I slowed more when I caught sight of the dark blur again.

  When I became very aware that it wasn’t a play of light, I came to a full stop. I removed my earbuds, put the strap behind my neck, and stared hard at the area where I was positive I’d seen something large moving. My heart was pounding from all the running and fear. Instinctively, I glanced around my immediate surroundings for anything that could be used as a weapon.

  Unless wet leaves were effective in self-defense, I was hosed.

  Just then, a huge black wolf stepped out from behind a cluster of trees.

  My first instinct was to run far and fast.

  As a girl from the city, I wasn’t used to wolves running wild or strolling around the woods.

  Rats, possibly.

  Wolves, nope.

  Of course, there was the one time our neighborhood had a huge-ass dog that looked a lot like a wolf. The thing was rabid, and it led to panic, fliers with warnings about it everywhere, and, in the end, a showdown between my mother and the beast.

  Standing in the middle of the woods, so deep in them that the sunlight was having issues reaching me, facing down a huge wolf, was a far cry from a city alley and a stray dog with anger issues.

  Everything in me screamed that the animal would see me as prey and chase me if I ran. I’d once heard someone mention making a lot of noise when encountering a predator in the wild, but a part of me thought that might not apply to wolves. Maybe it was for bears? How different were wild bears and wolves? I really didn’t know because I never made a habit of being out in the wild.

  The wolf’s eyes caused me to take pause. It had one green eye and one brown. Instantly it made me think of the guy I’d dated in high school, the one who had broken my heart. His eyes had been the same.

  Its gaze remained locked on me and it took a few steps in my direction, slowly. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Was it toying with me? Sizing me up for lunch?

  Did wolves travel alone or in packs? If it wasn’t alone, was it keeping my attention on it while its buddies surrounded me for the attack?

  My mind raced with a thousand ways this was going to result in my demise before I remembered facing down vampires only two days prior. I’d come out of the other side of that in one piece. That had to count for something. Did it make me the Wolf-Whisperer?

  No.

  But it did mean I wasn’t helpless.

  So long as the wolf was scared of leaves being thrown at it, because I really wasn’t so sure my sudden action-movie fighting skills were always going to be there or if they’d been a once-and-done thing.

  The wolf lowered its head slightly—and a strange sense of being safe found its way to me. I tipped my head. Was it someone I knew?

  Jeffrey’s eyes had turned to an icy blue back at the house, so I didn’t think the wolf was him. I only knew two others. Brett and Travis.

  I’d not seen Travis since the night of the attack and couldn’t remember his eye color.

  “Um, do I know you?”

  It nodded.

  A big sign it was a shifter, not a normal wolf.

  “Travis?”

  It just stared at me.

  “Brett?”

  Was the wolf him in shifted form? I’d seen him in full uniform, prior to him heading out for work earlier in the morning. He’d been standing in the kitchen, in front of my coffee press, looking incredibly befuddled.

  I’d said my version of a morning hello, which was a head nod, he’d given one in return, and it felt like we’d had a great conversation.

  Then he’d headed out for work for the day.

  Did b
eing the chief of police in town mean he could take breaks to shift forms and run through the woods?

  Was the wolf before me another of his friends—or pack mates, as he’d told me they were called?

  I’d met a slew of them the night of the vampire attack, along with a lot of men whom I’d heard others calling slayers, but I couldn’t recall most of their names. I also couldn’t remember who among them had one green and one brown eye. Then again, I’d watched Brett’s eyes shift from chocolate brown to yellow, so maybe the shades of the wolf’s had nothing to do with the person’s human eye color.

  And maybe the wolf wasn’t a shifter at all, but a real one.

  A wild one who just so happened to nod when I spoke.

  Did South Carolina have those? Probably something I should have considered prior to rushing off into the woods on my own. Dammit. Marcy had been right. I really should have read about the wildlife in the area. If I made it out of this alive, I’d be sure to read the brochures she’d put on my dresser.

  Okay, “read” is a strong promise. I’ll peruse them.

  With a quick glance upward, I moved my hand to the silver cross around my neck and realized that was a bald-faced lie.

  Fine. I’ll at least pull them out of the boxes I planned to recycle.

  I swallowed hard. “Nice puppy. No eating me, okay?”

  When the wolf gave a slight nod of its head once again, I realized very quickly it probably wasn’t a wild one. It was a shifter.

  Oddly, I found the idea the wolf was a shifter comforting. That went to show just how wacky and weird my last few days had been.

  I took a seat and let my guard down slightly. The fact the wolf was male did not go unnoticed. It was hard to miss just how male the thing was. I felt downright dirty and wrong for seeing everything the wolf had to offer, so I forced my gaze to its face. As it cocked its head to the side, making one ear flop funny, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Let me guess, Brett have you watching over me while I run?”

  He was kind of known for doing stuff like that.

  The wolf, thankfully, didn’t answer. Had it, I’m not sure I’d have held myself together. It was enough to know the wolf could shape-shift into a man. I didn’t want to find out they could talk in wolf form or anything.

  “As great and as one-sided as this conversation has been, I’m going to finish my run, all without you eating me,” I said before glancing around. “Assuming I can find my way back to the house.”

  Something rustled in the leaves behind me, and the wolf’s demeanor changed. It went from appearing friendly and nonthreatening to rabid in a split second. My gut said the growl wasn’t directed at me.

  Spinning around, I expected to find a legion of demons or something nefarious. There was nothing there.

  When I turned back to face the wolf, it too was gone.

  For a moment, I wondered if I’d imagined the entire ordeal. The wolf and everything. It was then the sounds of growling came from farther into the woods, where the sunlight wasn’t piercing through the treetops above.

  “Go after the wolf-man thing to be sure he’s okay, or run like crazy in the opposite direction of the possible legion of demons?” I pondered out loud, as if I was expecting someone to answer.

  The growling intensified, and then there was a yip that caused my nerves to become steel. The wolf needed help.

  I charged at the darkness. At the growling, armed only with my wit and Richard Marx, who I could faintly hear coming out of my earbuds from around my neck.

  When it felt as if day had turned to night, I began to second-guess my bravado, but I didn’t retreat. I walked into the woods more, my pace slow because undergrowth made running full-out difficult. Not to mention I was having a little trouble seeing the floor of the forest.

  As I lifted my hand out in front of me, I realized the darkness was so dense in this section of the woods that seeing in it was becoming troublesome. A sinking feeling came over me because the level of darkness wasn’t natural. That could only mean one thing.

  It was supernatural.

  I stared up again and put my arms out wide. “Oh, come on, man! You have gotta be kidding me. Don’t you people have some sort of double-jeopardy rule in effect? I already had a run-in with evil thrall-heads, the wolf here, and a succu-bitch this week. I don’t need to be swallowed by a shadow monster next!”

  When I finished shouting at whoever and whatever might be listening, I let out a long, slow, incensed breath. I could panic. In fact, that sounded like a great idea, but it wasn’t as if it was going to do any good.

  Nope.

  I pulled my cell from my armband to dial Poppy’s number. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone know where to find my body later after I was eaten by a shadow monster.

  I went to call her, only to find I had no bars for service this deep into the woods.

  Something moved in the leaves not far from me, and the already low-lit area began to darken rapidly. Quickly, I went to turn on the flashlight option on my mobile phone, only to drop it. I bent fast to retrieve it, thankful it landed with the screen side up because it was backlit and currently showed Richard Marx on one of his album covers. It was the very same song Marcy had been humming earlier.

  Ironically, the song that was playing was titled “Should’ve Known Better.”

  Richard was mocking me from the ’80s. Worse yet, he was right. I should have known better than to chase after a random wolf in the middle of the woods. I just hoped I lived to pass on the life lesson.

  Ten

  Jeffrey

  Surprise lit on Poppy’s face at Marcy’s comment about Dana having a familiar, but she didn’t comment further. Instead, she rocked in her chair.

  Jeffrey locked gazes with Marcy. “Dana is a witch?”

  He’d seen her hold hands with Poppy and Marcy the night of the succu-bitch attack. Some serious magik had risen and helped to end the enemy. Jeffrey had assumed that magik had come from Poppy and Marcy—that Dana was merely there as a show of support and one heck of a good fighter, seeing as how she’d taken out several vampires all on her own. He’d never given any thought to her being a witch.

  For some reason, the label didn’t feel right. It felt as if something was missing.

  “Part. Small part but a part all the same,” said Marcy as if it were no big deal. “She’s more than just a witch though.”

  Poppy looked to be all ears now as well. “W-what do you mean?”

  Marcy took a deep breath and appeared to be debating on saying more.

  “If you know something, Marcy, please share it,” said Poppy.

  “I don’t know,” returned Marcy quickly. “I just kind of overhear certain details. The other side whispers about her. So do the trees.”

  Jeffrey held his tongue. Yep. That woman only had one oar in the water.

  “What do they whisper?” asked Poppy.

  Marcy frowned. “They talk of betrayal. Darkness. A lot about her father’s side of the family and her father.”

  “He’s been dead since she was a baby,” countered Poppy. “Are you sure you’re communing with the wildlife properly? Seems weird they’d bring him up now.”

  “Unless he’s haunting your house along with Tuck and Ellie-Sue,” said Jeffrey, in an attempt to be funny.

  Poppy’s eyes widened. “Is he?”

  Marcy laughed. “No. He’s not one of the other spirits here.”

  Poppy stopped rocking in the chair. “There are others here? Besides Grandpa and Grandma?”

  “Oh yes. It’s a way station for spirits. The power the house and the grounds hold attracts them like moths to a flame. Most are harmless. Some aren’t. But that’s not for you to worry about,” said Marcy, sounding totally sane while talking about ghosts. “I will say it can get very noisy at night though with them all shouting at the foot of my bed.”

  “I’d say ones that aren’t harmless are something everyone should be concerned with,” said Jeffrey.

  Poppy po
inted at him. “What he said.”

  Marcy waved a hand dismissively. “Pish-posh.”

  “Are you going to tell us what the trees and spirits whisper about Dana?” asked Poppy.

  Marcy shook her head. “No. I think it’s best we let it play out on its own. Besides, I could be hearing them wrong. It happens sometimes.”

  Just then, Marcy headed to refill the watering can again. She began to hum as well. It took him a second to realize what the song was and when he did, he caught Poppy’s gaze with his own.

  “Is she humming a Richard Marx song?” he asked.

  Poppy inclined her head. “You get used to it. She’s on a kick for him this week. Last month, it was John Denver. The month before it was Hall and Oates. It was Wham! before that. I love Wham!. Wish she’d have stuck with George Michael. Though Blondie wasn’t bad. You get the picture.”

  He chuckled. “I do.”

  “At least she’s on Richard Marx now. Dana likes him. A lot. When Marcy went through her Steely Dan phase, I thought Dana was going to throttle her,” added Poppy. “Word to the wise, if you have any Steely Dan on your playlist, consider skipping it if she’s around.”

  “Women are very strange,” said Jeffrey.

  Poppy winked. “We know.”

  He grinned.

  She glanced in the direction of the woods. “I wish I could have talked to Dana before she headed out. I’m worried about her and how she’s handling everything.”

  He stiffened. “Can I help with anything?”

  Poppy looked to him, offering a tender smile. “Thank you, but Dana doesn’t accept help with ease. Marcy and I know how to thrust it on her in a way she’ll resist less, but having a man offer, well, I’m not sure how it would go over. Besides, I don’t think there is anything you could do unless you like to clean.”

  Confused, he lifted a brow.

  “She cleans when she’s upset, or when her anxiety levels are high. It’s how she channels that excess energy. She darn near scrubbed the finish out of the bathtubs. The floors in this house look new. And I caught her on her hands and knees with an old toothbrush, cleaning the baseboards late last night.” Poppy expelled a long breath.