MONSTER MAGIC IN WITCHWOOD
A Witchwood Cozy Mystery
JESSICA LANCASTER
Copyright © 2019 Jessica Lancaster
Original text copyright © 2018
All Rights Reserved
First published in 2018 under The Mystery on Mercy Avenue
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored in any form or by any means without permission of the author. Your respect and support of the author is appreciated.
All characters, events, brands, companies, and locations in this story are used fictionally and without intent of slander. Any resemblance to actual people are purely coincidental.
NOTE: Written in British English, utilising the grammar rules of British English. Example; Mr and Mrs - instead of Mr. and Mrs.
PARANORMAL MYSTERIES
Witchwood Cozy Mysteries
Cryptic Curses in Witchwood (Book 1)
Secret Spells in Witchwood (Book 2)
Monster Magic in Witchwood (Book 3)
Reaper Rituals in Witchwood (Book 4)
Bad Blood in Witchwood (Book 5)
Wicked Witches in Witchwood (Book 6)
Cowan Bay Witches Cozy Mysteries
Muffins, Magic, and Murder (Book 1)
Cupcakes, Crystals, and Chaos (Book 2)
Pies, Palmistry, and Poison (Book 3)
Treats, Tarot, and Trouble (Book 4)
CO-AUTHORED BOOKS
With Hugo James King
Murder on Silver Lake (Book 1)
Murder on Red Rose Drive (Book 2)
Murder at Maple House (Book 3)
Join Jessica’s e-mail list for new releases by signing up!
MONSTER MAGIC IN WITCHWOOD
As magic activity increases in Witchwood, the disappearance of a young boy raises alarms.
The local police can only do so much, claiming children go missing all the time. This time, it was different, this time, the family lived near a witch, Evanora Lavender, and she senses something isn’t right.
Following her gut, Nora sets out to find him. But what she uncovers might kill her, and the boy.
A paranormal cozy mystery set in a small English town, featuring an amateur female sleuth and her talking barn owl. Written in British English.
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
A NOTE FROM JESSICA
NEXT BOOK
ABOUT JESSICA LANCASTER
PROLOGUE
Stomping footsteps shook the floor beneath my feet. They were headed in my direction, vibrating through the glass on the ground.
I shuffled back, turning to face a wardrobe. “Come on,” I grumbled, pressing my palm flat against the wardrobe door. Finding the groove, I slipped my fingers inside it and pulled it open on a hinge.
Fumbling into the empty wardrobe, I pressed my back against the wall and tugged at the door for it to fall into place. My hands planted firmly on the back wall, feeling the vibrations rattle.
One bottle smashed.
I squeezed my eyes.
A second crunched underfoot.
Deep panting. Huh. Huh. Huh.
‘Nothing can get you in here.’ I told myself. ‘This is protected.’
My eyes blinked wide. I pressed my face against the wooden slats, a small tack as my glasses collided. I strained my sight, peering out and not seeing much of anything except a messy room. After waiting for a moment, I leaned back and blew at my face.
Crunch.
I shuffled toward the other side of the wardrobe, finding a different vantage point. There was nothing.
Crunch.
It was closer.
An acidic stench followed.
‘On a count of three, Nora,’ I said, pinching my nostrils shut. ‘Give it everything you’ve got.’
The grumbling came again, this time louder, this time closer. The heat from its breath spat through the lines in the wardrobe.
Gurrr.
Almost beside me.
Whoosh.
The door opened, filling my eyes with my light.
ONE
A scream echoed through the sleepy town of Witchwood. The gravity of it woke heavy sleepers and prickled hairs on gooseflesh skin. The scream resonated with a deep vibration, the type from the back of the throat and depths of the lungs. It was painful.
I’d been stood at the front door, waiting on the milkman for whenever he’d decide to show. It was mid-morning by this point and I’d had my coffee served black. Faint echoes of the scream continued, calling me out of the doorway. Wrapping my nightgown tight, I stepped slowly toward the end of the garden path, glancing left and right.
On my right, at the end of Eden Road was Mercy Avenue, a street of detached two-storey homes, branded the perfect starter home. This is where the sound was coming from.
“My baby!” a shriek came. “Where’s my baby?”
Cassandra approached from behind, her gaunt face looking in all directions, searching for the source of the voice.
Cassandra was a trainee investigator for the Witches Council, and she was training under me for a couple months, or at least until I’d imparted enough knowledge on her. She’d been living with me for a couple weeks now, and during it, I believed she’d settled in well; nobody asked questions, mainly because nobody knew me and the rumour mill had travelled and spun tales, telling people I was a witch.
“What happened?” she asked.
A tinnitus ring had me half deaf from the scream. “No idea,” I said, pressing the back of my hand against my chin. “Not good.”
“Should we go and see?”
I gestured to my fluffy nightgown. “Not like this.” It was still early, so it wouldn’t have gone amiss.
“I’ll get dressed,” she nodded, turning on the heel of her socked foot.
I smiled and followed her inside.
“I found some gemstones in the collection,” Cass continued, pulling to an abrupt halt outside her bedroom door.
“We’ll have a look once I’m dressed,” I told her, spying her familiar cat, Jinx as she slinked between her legs out of the room.
She pressed a hand to her temple and then out to me. “Gotcha,” she said. “There’s a lot, but some I have questions about.”
An inquisitive mind always made my face beam and my eyes wide. “Oo, give me ten minutes and I’ll be with you.”
Before I ventured to the front door, I’d left Cass in the kitchen with a small collection of gemstones to pick through. I hadn’t yet been able to go to one of the many fantastic shops run by fellow witches for my crystal supplies, but I did have my box; a starter collection. The lesson for the morning was augmented gemstones, like the ones on my rings.
While I dressed, my mind wandered about what fascinated me into becoming an investigator for the Council; it was the community and all the different creatures hiding in secret. I missed travelling the country in search of demonic forces, Witchwood was a little tamer.
In a pair of blue jeans, a white button-up blouse, and paired with a cream cardigan; I was ready. I combed back my hair into a ponytail on top of my head and straightened my gla
sses out on my nose.
On the kitchen side, separated from the pack were three individual gemstone and crystals. I brushed a hand across them, glancing toward the hallway. “Are these the ones?” I asked.
“On the side?” she called back.
“Yes,” I said. “There’s three of them.”
Cassandra walked in a moment, twisting her hair into a bun on her head. “Yeah, they stuck out to me the most,” she said. “They were a little unusual too.”
I hummed in agreement. “Interesting.” Combing my fingers across them once again, this time closing my eyes, I was attempting to feel their individual energies. “Well.” I sucked back, opening my eyes and glancing at the rocks.
“What are they?” she asked.
“We have almandine, kyanite, and yellow apatite.”
“What do they all mean?” she asked.
“Once we’ve been out to see what happened, we can talk,” I said. “You never know when a job will call to you.”
Cassandra tugged at the bottom of her t-shirt, a wide grin across her face. “I’m good to go.”
“What about me?” a squeak came from the ground.
Jinx weaved around Cassandra’s feet. “Keep out of trouble,” she replied.
“Not fair,” Jinx said.
I chuckled. “I guess it’s not just my familiar with a little sass.” It was reassuring, but I wasn’t sure I could deal with two of them and their remarks, at least Jinx wasn’t nocturnal. “You should be a good familiar and guard the home.”
A guttural deep purr came from Jinx’s throat. “That’s why you have wards,” she said before turning her nose and walking away.
Cass blushed at Jinx’s remarks, but I’d heard worse, much worse.
TWO
Outside a house on Mercy Avenue, a crowd of neighbours grew, trying to get a look inside. Everyone whispered, extending their ears to listen in on any further screams. I’d heard screams before, but nothing quite like this, the ringing was still faint.
I stood beside Cassandra, both of us watched, examining the people around us. Mostly women; mothers from the road.
“Nora,” Greg’s cheerful voice called, breaking the veil of silence. He grabbed my arm, tugging me toward him. “I didn’t peg you for someone interested in town gossip.”
Cassandra stood at my side. “Is everyone out here?”
Looking around, it seemed that way. I turned to Greg.
He chuckled. “No, not at all. There will be later though,” he said. “So, what brought you two over?”
“I like to make sure the town is safe,” I said, although the last time I’d been to someone’s house after a scream, I uncovered a secret clan of vampires operating out of an old lady’s compost heap. Greg had been there, but I’d wiped his memory.
“If this isn’t everyone, I don’t dare think about what it will be like,” Cass said.
Greg fanned himself with the back of a hand. “The family is new to Witchwood,” he said. “Nobody knows much about them. Moved in around two weeks ago.” He pushed on his toes, glancing over the heads in the crowd. “That’s all I’ve been able to find out.”
A shrill siren blasted down the road moments later, followed by bright lights beating across everything in its path. A single police car arrived outside the house, parting the people stood in front of the gate.
“Must be serious,” Cass said.
I watched as two police officers, a man and a woman step out of the car. They both spoke into their chest talkies, rushing up the path to the house. I caressed the rings across my fingers, tuning into the officers. Their thumping knocks sent vibrations through me. A man opened the door, his pale face was covered in red blotches at his eyes and cheeks.
“We should go,” I said, stroking my rings again and cutting the connection. “The police are here, it’s a little intrusive to be around if it’s this serious.”
“Maybe we can help?” Cass suggested. “You did say this is how investigators sometimes find work.”
I did, but there was often a malicious supernatural entity around. I couldn’t feel any such force dragging me in. Recalling the scream, it could’ve been something to do with her child. The thought pained my stomach to cramp.
“We don’t meddle in human issues,” I said.
“What?” Greg asked, almost immediately.
I cleared my throat. “You have the police here.” I tried to reason. “We deal with everything else, but the police can handle human matters.”
His brows knitted together, and his lips clenched into a tough line. “So, you’re saying, if you could solve their problem super easy, you wouldn’t because it’s not supernatural.”
Basically. Yes. That’s what I was saying. Hearing it phrased in such a way didn’t sound like the best impression I could’ve given. But it was the code, it was the way of the Witches Council. Although technically, I was a free agent these days. “If we can do something, we’ll try our best, but if someone else can do it, they should,” I said. “You wouldn’t want someone who could garden faster than you to take over your job, would you?”
“Well, I guess not.”
Cassandra pushed a finger to her bottom lip. “Makes sense.”
His face flushed red in frustration. “But if you could help you’d save so much time.”
Perhaps it would’ve been better to leave Greg out of all the nitty-gritty, nobody but a witch would know, and I’d given him the benefit of the doubt as a human I trusted. “We all have our jobs,” I replied. “We deal with all matter of things the police can’t, and it would be taking time away from those jobs.” I knew I wasn’t getting anywhere with him.
“Okay, but—”
“It depends,” I said.
A scream cut any further questions.
THREE
All eyes watched the front door, waiting to see what happened next like hungry viewers of a reality television show. We were a captive audience, most people were there to occupy a morning, but I wanted to know if they were okay.
Another blur of whizzing sirens approached, lights and sound pulling heads in all directions. An ambulance arrived, settling like a heavy rock in my stomach. Two paramedics jumped from the vehicle, parting the group yet again in a beeline to the front door.
“An ambulance,” I heard from people in the crowd.
“Is someone dead?” others asked.
Their low voices, quickly growing as they questioned each other in a panic. Everyone wanted to know, everyone had questions. I clenched a hand to my neckline and another to my chest as it swelled with a heavy breath.
I was sucked in. My heart pounding through my body with anticipation.
“It could be their son,” another voice came.
Pulling my cardigan tight, giving myself a hug, I found comfort. I had no reason to be this nervous, my entire body was driven by the emotions of the people around me. I’d never experienced anything like it; I’d never been living anywhere long enough for this to happen on my doorstep either.
It wasn’t like me at all. None of this was like me.
As the paramedics entered the home, the two police officers made their exit. They spoke to each other as they stood still.
“I wonder what’s happening?” a question came.
“Maybe she’s having a mental break?” another asked.
I brushed my fingers across my rings, cooing at the heated prickle against my skin. There was too much human emotion and the static from them was overwhelming.
“Imagine losing a child,” a voice said through a heavy sigh.
As I planted my feet firm, grounding myself, I told my internal voice reciting the code of ethics that I was doing this to satisfy any further questions from Cassandra and Greg. I turned and tuned into the officers.
“Think she’s making it up?” the male officer asked.
Following several inaudible noises, the female officer spoke. “The husband seemed too calm.”
“Did you see all those empty wine bottles?
”
“I’ll call in the missing person’s report,” she replied. “The alcohol isn’t going to help her, I’ll see if there’s any mention of the family with the social services.”
“And the fact she didn’t have pictures of her son,” he said, shaking his head. “Good call on the paramedics, hope we can find out if she’s on any medication.”
Cass tugged my arm, pulling me away from the conversation. I turned sharply, squinting at her through my glasses.
“Yes?”
She snapped her fingers at me. “Should we leave?”
“Probably a good idea.” Although I wanted to know what had happened. I was coloured with intrigue, but I had no business in human affairs.
“Good morning,” the female officer spoke, commanding attention. “At this time, we would appreciate it if you could give the family some peace, they are going through a sensitive and personal matter at this time.”
“What happened?” a nasally voice called out.
I spotted the woman through the crowd. I’d never seen her before, but she was at the centre of a huddle. She wore colourful elasticated leggings and a stretchy black workout jacket, paired with a neon pink headband and matching wristbands. She was no older than me, but as I watched her, I noticed it appeared to be some sort of club.
“Who’s that?” I asked, turning around, hoping to catch Greg’s ear.
He stood on the other side of me now. “Who?” he asked, nodding to the woman. “Her?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s Laura Mc—something, she’s got a couple kids.”
The police officers began ushering people away from the fence of the house.
“Come on, girls,” Laura said, “That’s got our hearts racing a little, time to burn some calories.” She called out as she began running on the spot. “Let’s go. Light running.”
Greg chuckled. “The mothers of Mercy Avenue are something else,” he said. “She’s been known to make parents cry.”
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