Magic & Misdeeds
Page 18
My fingers curled around my wand, but I kept my eyes locked on the vampire. “You would’ve been better off destroying the phone.”
Stuart tapped the top of my computer. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, isn’t it? I’m sure you’ll agree given our current situation.”
“And what situation is that?”
The vampire snarled and put his fangs on full display. “Do you really think I have any intention of letting you turn me in?”
“Do you really think I have any intention of letting you go?” I continued to inch my chair backward, wishing that the sheriff would burst through the door.
“You’ll let me go because you’ll be dead, just like that wretched leprechaun.” He shoved my computer aside and climbed onto the desk to reach me.
“Where’s a sledgehammer when you really need one?” I lamented. I hated when Marigold was right. My gaze fell upon the pencils scattered across Bentley’s desk. There wasn’t time to worry about the right background music or whether I chose the correct pencil from the group.
Stuart lunged for me and two dozen pencils shot into the air. They flipped sideways, zooming toward him like fighter jets. Before he could react, they caught his clothing and forced him back against the wall. Their sharpened tips embedded in the wall and pinned him in place. One pencil managed to shoot through the crotch area and he howled in protest. I heard the tear of fabric and knew it was only a matter of time before I had a naked vampire attacking me.
I aimed my wand and said, “Congelo!”
The vampire froze and I tossed my wand onto the desk so that I could call the sheriff with my own phone.
“I’ll never tell Marigold about this,” I swore to myself as I waited for the sheriff to answer. I’d be practicing telekinesis on pencils for the rest of my magical life if she knew what I’d done.
“What’s up, Rose?” the sheriff asked.
“I’m insulted. I sent you a text, but you didn’t reply.”
“I don’t have a text from you. I have one from an unknown number, but I didn’t read it yet.”
“Read it on your way over to my office,” I said. “I have a trophy on display and you need to admire it. Be sure to bring your handcuffs.”
“Rose, that sounds far kinkier than you probably intend. Be there in a minute.”
I set down the phone and returned my computer to an upright position on the desk. It seemed I had an article to finish.
Chapter Nineteen
Butterflies swirled in my stomach as I entered the headquarters of the Silver Moon coven for the monthly meeting. I wasn’t typically nervous at these events, but I knew I planned to poke a hornet’s nest—something that was really going to piss off my aunt.
“Ember, how delightful. I feel like I only see you once a month,” Gardenia said.
“That’s because you do,” I replied.
“You should attend some of the intermittent coven events,” Gardenia said. “We’d love to have you.”
“I’m a working single mom, Gardenia. I’m lucky to shower once a day.”
“Fair point.” The Scribe smiled. “I saw your name under New Business. Care to offer a sneak preview?”
“I think it would be best to wait,” I said.
She leaned over. “Calla thinks you might want to make an engagement announcement.”
I started to choke on my saliva. “No, that’s not on the agenda.”
“Too bad. Some of us would love to see a vampire-witch wedding. It would really spice things up.”
“You’ll have to hold out hope that Florian meets a nice vampire then,” I said.
Marigold intercepted me on my way to the snack table. “I see your name on the agenda. Would this have something to do with our recent conversation?”
“It would,” I said. “I also brought you a little present.” I dug into my purse and retrieved a tiny packet.
“A present for me?” Marigold touched her clavicle. “Whatever for?”
“For being brave enough to tell me about the Tree of Bounty.” I emptied the packet into her open palm. “It’s a special stone that’s meant to help with menopause symptoms. Hazel calls it chromapathy and forced me to learn about it.”
Marigold closed her fingers over the stone and blinked away tears. “Oh, Ember. This is so incredibly thoughtful. Thank you.”
“I hope it works. You’re supposed to place it over the affected area twice a day for half an hour a pop.”
“I’m willing to try anything at this point.” She clutched the stone to her chest. “You never cease to surprise me.”
“Well, if they ever try to hang me for mouthiness, you’ll be on my side, right?”
“Always.”
The bells began to ring and the witches and wizards filed into the cavernous hall. I took my place at the front of the room with my family. I squeezed between Linnea and Florian, mainly because they were the two least likely to hex me after I made my public suggestion. As much as I loved Aster, she was more like her mother when it came to rules and propriety.
“You’re very fidgety,” Linnea whispered during the budget discussion.
“You’ll understand why in a minute.”
“And now for New Business,” the High Priestess said. “I understand Ember Rose has something to say.”
I ignored the fear coiled in the pit of my stomach and took my place in front of the coven. I took Marley’s suggestion and focused on a point at the back of the room so that I wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, yet I appeared to be making eye contact.
“I recently learned of the history of the Tree of Bounty,” I began. As expected, a hush fell over the hall. “I know it’s a difficult topic, but I think it deserves a conversation.”
“You have no right to drag this back into the spotlight,” a wizard called. “What’s done is done.”
I couldn’t see who it was. “It seems to me that the tragedy was never fully acknowledged and that tree still retains negative energy from that shameful time.”
“Sit down, Ember,” a witch yelled.
Aunt Hyacinth rose to her feet and I prepared for her to escort me from the hall. Instead, she said loudly, “Let her speak.”
With my aunt’s blessing, my body relaxed. “I’d like to suggest a coven ritual to cleanse the tree and restore its good energy. When I was there, I felt like I was carrying the weight of the world. It was horrible. We owe it to those executed witches to acknowledge the wrong and disperse the bad energy.”
“I don’t know that we can fit it into the schedule,” Gardenia said. “There are so many events coming up already…” She trailed off, her gaze darting to the High Priestess.
Iris appraised me. “Your argument has merit, Ember. I’d like the chance to discuss it…”
“Why don’t we just put it to a coven vote now?” Florian called. “If it’s vetoed, then nobody needs to worry about the schedule.”
The High Priestess appeared at a loss. She glanced at the High Priest, who nodded.
“Very well then,” Iris said. “As we’re all gathered in one place, we may as well get it over with.”
The witches and wizards pulled out their voting stones—white for ‘aye’ and black for ’nay.’ Each of us stepped up to a large black cauldron and placed our vote inside. I waited impatiently while the votes were counted. Even the brownie from the snack table did little to ease my anxious mind. Finally, Iris resumed her place at the front of the room.
“It seems we’ll be adding a ritual to the calendar this month,” she said.
I beamed with pride. It felt good to do something positive for the murdered witches. Across the table, Aunt Hyacinth offered a nod of approval. “Well done, Ember. You’re becoming quite the natural leader. I never thought it possible.”
“I didn’t think you’d want the ritual.”
“I started thinking about the tree after you mentioned it at dinner during Philip’s visit. You’re right. It was a travesty of justice. I’m proud of you for raising the iss
ue.”
“Thank you,” I said. I basked in the momentary glow of her admiration.
“You won me over,” Linnea said. “I thought about Clark and cleansing Palmetto House and realized that it was only right for our own coven witches to be given the same treatment. If any parts of their spirits linger there, the ritual will release them and let them finally be at peace. They deserve that.”
A wizard named Joseph hobbled over to me with a cane. “My ancestor was a ringleader in that fiasco,” he said. “I’ve always felt so ashamed. I wanted to forget that moment in history ever happened.”
“You’re not responsible for the acts of your ancestors,” I said.
“I know, but even the house I live in…” He paused. “I ended up owning that house because the witch that originally owned it was hung on the tree and so my ancestor inherited it.”
“And you feel guilty,” I said.
“How can I not?” He seemed thoughtful. “Perhaps I should have the house cleansed too. Even though she wasn’t killed there, there must be residual negative energy. The house is an ill-gotten gain.”
“It might make you feel better,” I said.
He broke into a relieved grin. “I’m so glad you brought this up, Ember. I never would have had the courage to face it.”
“It’s deeply upsetting,” I said. “I can understand why everyone wants to avoid it, but sometimes the issues we most want to avoid are the ones we have to force ourselves to confront. It’s our best chance for personal growth.” I had Philip to thank for that line of thought.
“Your parents would be very proud of the witch you’ve become,” Joseph said.
My chest tightened at the mention of my parents. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
When I arrived at the cottage, Marley was sound asleep. Mrs. Babcock gathered her knitting and started for the door.
“Just so you know, there was some noise from the kitchen earlier,” she said. “I think it was your familiar scrounging for food again.”
“Yes, that wouldn’t surprise me,” I said. “Good night, Mrs. Babcock.”
I closed the door behind the brownie and spun on my heel to investigate Raoul’s shenanigans. I threw open the kitchen door and halted in my tracks. On the island was a completed altar, adorned with my grimoire, a candle, and a framed picture of Billy Joel. The picture was torn and the glass was cracked, but it didn’t matter.
Raoul emerged from the pantry with my not-so-secret stash of cookies. He stopped short when he saw me. Oops.
I pointed at the altar. “Is that for me?”
I think it’s obvious. You told me not to work on it in the house.
I walked over to admire his handiwork. The wood had been smoothed and refined. “Raoul, it’s amazing. Thank you so much.”
And you said I can’t use tools. He snickered. You’re a tool.
I paged through the grimoire. “We should keep some of Ivy’s things on here as a way of remembering her.”
Not her Book of Shadows, he said. Not until you’ve come clean with everyone about it.
I glanced at my hands. “They stopped tingling. I guess whatever magic that released has dissipated.”
Or it’s entered your body and altered you on a molecular level.
“I wasn’t bit by a radioactive spider,” I countered. “I opened a Book of Shadows.”
A book created by the most powerful witch in the Rose family, outside of the One True Witch.
I blew air from my nostrils. “You’re right. I can’t discount Ivy’s power.”
Maybe this is the reason your aunt wanted access to it. That’s what you suspected from the beginning.
“So far, I’m not lifting cars over my head or throwing thunderbolts. I’m not even convinced we’ll have access to her magic.”
From what you said, Ivy wasn’t always overwhelmed by her magic. It took hold over time. The stronger she became, the harder it was for her.
And if that happened to me, would I be doomed to suffer Ivy’s fate? No. The world was a different place now. The coven would be supportive. They’d try to help rather than strip me bare and boot me to the curb.
Wouldn’t they?
Worry gnawed at me. I wasn’t one of them in the same way Linnea and Aster were. Even though I’d been born here to parents in the coven, I’d lived in the human world most of my life. I had a child with a human partner. I was already so different. An Other. Ivy had been one of them her entire life, but it wasn’t enough to save her. I thought of the Tree of Bounty and the murdered witches. It had been a different event in a different time period, but it was yet another example of a frenzied response to powerful women. Fear bubbled in my blood. I had to keep this a secret. I’d been so worried about putting Marley in danger. I didn’t stop to think that putting myself in danger was a different kind risk to Marley. What would happen to my daughter if the coven turned against me? Would they turn against her too? Or would they try to take her away from me? Neither scenario was comforting.
I tried to shake the unwelcome thoughts from my mind. No, the coven was better than that. They worshipped the Roses.
Ivy had been a Rose.
I blocked any further thoughts on the subject from my mind. It was late and I was tired.
How was the meeting? Raoul asked. Are they going to do the cleanse?
“They are.” See? Things were different now.
It’s been a good week for you, Raoul said. You caught a killer and you convinced the whole coven to wash a tree.
I gazed at the altar—the physical representation of my life as a witch in Starry Hollow. “It has been a good week, Raoul. In fact, it’s a pretty good life.” I rubbed the top of his head. “Thank you for reminding me.”
That’s what familiars are for. The raccoon held up the tin for me to open. Now, how about a cookie?
Also by Annabel Chase
Thank you for reading Magic & Misdeeds! Sign up for my newsletter and receive a FREE Starry Hollow Witches short story— http://eepurl.com/ctYNzf. You can also like me on Facebook so you can find out about the next book before it's even available.
Other books by Annabel Chase include:
Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mysteries
Curse the Day, Book 1
Doom and Broom, Book 2
Spell’s Bells, Book 3
Lucky Charm, Book 4
Better Than Hex, Book 5
Cast Away, Book 6
A Touch of Magic, Book 7
A Drop in the Potion, Book 8
Hemlocked and Loaded, Book 9
All Spell Breaks Loose, Book 10
Spellbound Ever After
Crazy For Brew, Book 1
Lost That Coven Feeling, Book 2
Wands Upon A Time, Book 3
Charmed Offensive, Book 4
Poetry in Potion, Book 5
Cloaks and Daggers, Book 6
Federal Bureau of Magic cozy mystery:
Great Balls of Fury, Book 1
Fury Godmother, Book 2
No Guts, No Fury, Book 3
Grace Under Fury, Book 4
Bedtime Fury, Book 5
Three Alarm Fury, Book 6
Hell Hath No Fury, Book 7
Spellslingers Academy of Magic
Outcast, Warden of the West, Book 1
Outclassed, Warden of the West, Book 2
Outlast, Warden of the West, Book 3