Charmed Offensive

by Annabel Chase

  “So we’re not just looking for a sorceress-angel hybrid anymore?” I asked.

  Laurel shook her head. “There’s a chance this baby could favor your father. We might as well try to learn more about him, whether you decide to find him or not.”

  “You should have asked first, Laurel,” Sophie said. “You don’t go around digging into someone else’s family history without permission.”

  “Emma’s preoccupied,” Laurel said. “I’m trying to be helpful.”

  “By keeping it a secret?” Begonia asked, hands on hips.

  “I was planning to tell her if I found something useful,” Laurel replied.

  “But you haven’t?” I asked.

  “Not yet.” Laurel set the book back on the table. “I’m not surprised the AMF’s file on him was paper thin. He takes care to leave very little trace of himself.”

  “He didn’t do that good of a job,” Millie said. “We’ve got a living, breathing trace of him right here in the lair.” She gestured to me.

  I plucked an imaginary fiber on the sofa. “Have you learned anything at all?”

  Laurel offered a sympathetic look. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “Stars and stones, Laurel, is it that bad?” Sophie asked.

  “Not necessarily,” Laurel said. “There’ve been reports of him on every continent, but details are hard to come by.”

  “So he likes to travel,” Begonia said.

  “Or he has to travel because he causes destruction and devastation wherever he goes,” Millie said.

  Four heads swiveled in Millie’s direction.

  She simply shrugged. “What? It’s a possibility.”

  “Go ahead and keep looking,” I said. “You’re right. Forewarned is forearmed.”

  “We don’t even know for sure whether he’s aware of your existence, let alone the fact that you’re having a baby,” Begonia said. “There’s no reason to panic.”

  “No one’s panicking,” I said. I walked over to the table to inspect Laurel’s findings. “In fact, I think you’re on to something.”

  The younger witch snapped to attention. “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe I should be more proactive,” I said. “Get ahead of the story, as Lucy would say. Smoke him out of his hiding spot.”

  Millie snorted. “Says the witch in a secret lair.”

  “If you could somehow contact your father and invite him here,” Sophie suggested, “then he can’t take you by surprise. Then you could judge for yourself whether he’s a threat.”

  Begonia looked at her askance. “You want to invite the lion into our den?”

  “We don’t know that he’s a lion,” Sophie said.

  “We don’t know that he isn’t,” Begonia countered.

  “Warden Armitage suggested using my blood in a locator spell,” I said. “I can track him down without endangering anyone here. I could leave Spellbound, find him, and return here without telling him where I live.”

  “Unless he tracks you home,” Laurel said. “He’s a demigod. Who knows what powers he has?”

  “If you invite him here, we can adapt security measures in advance,” Millie said. “The coven will help.”

  “And we have the Black Dog now,” Sophie added. “He’s an expert.” Sophie turned to Millie.

  “I’m going to think about it a bit longer,” I said. “I’m not sure what I want to do.”

  Sophie brightened. “Just think, Millie. If you become the Voice of the Coven, you’ll be working closely with him.”

  “Jamison Briar is very handsome,” Begonia agreed.

  “It helps that he’s new to town,” Laurel said. “His view of you will be completely based on his own experience.”

  Millie turned to her with a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  Laurel remained unruffled. “That you have a certain reputation that we’re working against this very moment in order to win you the coveted position.”

  “That’s overstating it a bit, don’t you think?” Millie asked.

  “You’re the quintessential know-it-all, big mouth witch,” Laurel said, and Millie flinched at the description. “We need to smash assumptions and persuade the coven that you’re up for the task of representing our kind in Spellbound. That you won’t make us look bad or create waves with the rest of the community.”

  “I did recommend approaching this like a beauty pageant,” I said.

  “Charming and capable,” Millie said.

  Begonia studied Millie’s appearance. “I think we should start with your look.”

  Millie blinked. “My look? What’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s just a little severe,” Begonia said. “We should soften you a smidge. Help with the charming part.”

  Millie looked helplessly at the rest of us. “I don’t look as severe as Limpet, do I?”

  “Limpet isn’t running for Voice of the Coven,” Begonia pointed out.

  Sophie touched the ends of Millie’s stick-straight hair. “I would suggest a few soft layers around your face.” She pulled out her wand. “I can take care of that for you right now if you like.”

  “Hang on,” I said. “Let’s decide on the whole concept before we start.”

  “Concept?” Millie’s voice went shrill.

  Begonia circled around her. “Her clothes, too. She needs an outfit that says both ‘boss’ but also ‘friend.’”

  “You already radiate confidence,” I said, “so you have that going for you. Now you need a look that supports it. Remember all the things we talked about with Agnes.”

  Millie shot me a look. “You mean keep a flask in my pocket for emergencies?”

  “That was a Dr. Hall suggestion,” I said.

  “We need to tweeze your eyebrows so you don’t look angry all the time,” Begonia said.

  “I’ve tweezed before,” Millie said indignantly.

  “You realize you have to do it more than once, right?” Begonia asked. “Hair grows back. It’s funny like that.”

  “Hardy har,” Millie said. “Do you know how sexist this is? Do you think Rodrigo is plucking his eyebrows and changing his clothes?”

  “He will if he’s smart,” Laurel said. “The wizard has a unibrow.”

  “And his cloak doesn’t hide the hideous plaid shirts he favors,” Sophie added.

  Millie threw up her hands. “Then I guess we’re all putting too much emphasis on appearances.”

  “It won’t just be your appearance,” I countered. “Remember—poise, attitude, and charm.”

  Sophie clapped her hands. “Let’s see your walk. Pretend you’re stepping up to the podium to speak.”

  Millie took a few steps forward and Sophie whistled. “Stop right there. You look like you have a broomstick shoved up your backside.”

  Millie stopped and glowered. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t use that expression either,” Sophie continued. “Very off-putting.”

  Millie crossed her arms in a huff. “I’m pretty sure this is an excuse to pick on me.”

  Sophie held her finger and thumb an inch apart. “Maybe a little, but we do truly want to help.”

  “There’s no one we’d rather have as our Voice of the Coven,” Begonia said. “Make us proud, Millie.”

  “Now, let’s see that walk again,” Sophie ordered.

  Millie walked the length of the room with her head held high.

  “Take the chin down a notch,” Laurel said. “You look more haughty than confident. It’s a fine line.”

  Millie jerked her chin down. “Clearly.”

  “Yes, the harpies said confidence without arrogance was important,” I added.

  “Move your hips more,” Begonia said. “You look like you slept on a plank and your muscles are too stiff to move.”

  Although Millie adjusted her head and hips, she reminded me of drunk robot, stiff but veering off at a strange angle.

  Laurel contemplated her. “I hate to suggest it, but what about
a spell?”

  “Isn’t that cheating?” Sophie asked.

  “We’re witches and this is a coven event,” Begonia said. “Laurel’s right. We should fix this with magic.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Magic has a way of backfiring.”

  “Only when you do it,” Laurel said.

  I winced. “Ouch, Laurel. That was a low blow.”

  Millie offered a helpless shrug. “The truth hurts.”

  “What kind of spell?” Sophie asked.

  Laurel snapped her fingers. “What about Millie’s voodoo doll?”

  Millie frowned. “What about it?”

  “What if I control it during the competition?” Laurel asked.

  Millie hesitated. “I don’t know that I need that level of help.”

  Begonia’s face pinched with enthusiasm. “We can charm each pin with a different attribute and prick away when needed.”

  Millie hugged herself. “Now you just want an excuse to prick me.”

  Begonia took out her wand and prodded Millie’s side. “Who needs a pin for that?”

  Millie pushed away the tip of the wand and rubbed her side. “Do you really think I need magic to help me?”

  “An actor wears makeup to cover blemishes and other flaws,” Sophie said matter-of-factly. “Why not ‘wear’ a little magic?”

  Millie eyed her closely. “To cover my personality flaws?”

  “Okay, maybe that’s a bad analogy,” Sophie said quickly.

  Laurel went over to the box on the floor and retrieved the voodoo doll in Millie’s image. “This is perfect. It’s small enough to bring with us so no one sees it.”

  Millie took the doll from Laurel and studied it. “I’m not sure how I feel about the rest of you controlling me like a puppet.”

  Begonia laughed. “True. You are the worst control freak of the five of us.”

  “But you want to win, don’t you?” Sophie asked. “Be the Voice of the Coven and work right next to that yummy Black Dog?”

  “Maybe the two of you will fall in love,” Begonia said dreamily. “It’ll be a story you tell your grandkids.”

  Millie thrust the doll into Begonia’s chest. “Do whatever you need to do. I’m in.”

  On my way home from the secret lair, Sedgwick intercepted me. I noticed him circling above my car and rolled down the window to wave.

  Sheriff Astrid is looking for you, Your Highness, he said. I couldn’t exactly tell her you’d retreated to the Bat Cave.

  Well, at least he’d moved on from Disney references. “Where is she?”

  Bountiful Acres, he said. There’s been an incident.

  That was Adam Clayton’s neighborhood. I increased my speed and Sedgwick accompanied me from above. As I parked on the street, I spotted Astrid and Britta on the front lawn talking to the dwarf. I hurried over and tried not to stumble over my feet.

  Even in the gloaming, I could see what the incident was. Adam’s beautiful garden was in ruins.

  “Mr. Clayton, what happened?” On my way over to them, I passed three spikes with sunflower heads attached to their tops.

  “What does it look like? Someone decided to get rid of the competition,” the dwarf said, his voice trembling.

  “At least no one turned you to stone,” I said.

  The dwarf gave me a sour look. “I’m not really interested in the bright side right now, Emma.”

  “I’m really sorry,” I said. “I know how much work you put into this.” His lawn ornaments had been smashed on the pavement and the flowers and bushes had been torn up and scattered across the ground.

  “I’m going to secure the area,” the sheriff said. “It’ll be hard to see in the dark, but we’ll search for evidence.”

  I pulled my wand from my pocket and conjured a light spell. Tiffany’s tip began to glow with a bright light and I handed the wand to Astrid.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “I can’t bear to look at this anymore,” Adam said. “I’m going inside to take a long, hot bath.”

  “We’ll let you know if we find anything,” the sheriff said.

  He retreated into the house without a backward glance.

  “This is awful,” I said, once Adam was inside the house. “Someone wasn’t satisfied with turning Mr. Geary to stone. Now they’re trying to intimidate the remaining competitors.” I gestured to the spikes.

  “That’s not intimidating,” Britta said. “The spikes are tall. The decapitated sunflowers still look like sunflowers.”

  “But the message is clear,” I said.

  Britta tilted her head. “Is it?”

  “Yes,” I insisted.

  Astrid handed her sister the glowing wand. “Do another sweep and let me know if you find anything.”

  Britta began another tour of the perimeter, scanning the ground for clues.

  “Poor Adam,” I said. “He’ll never be able to fix the garden in time for the competition.”

  “Which is exactly what the culprit wanted, I’m sure,” Astrid said.

  My familiar landed on a nearby tree branch. I don’t see anything unusual.

  “Thanks, Sedgwick,” I said. “My owl has good night vision and he doesn’t see anything.”

  “It’s hard with all this mess, though,” Astrid said. “I spoke to the neighbors already, but no one heard or saw anything. Adam said it was like this when he came home from work.”

  “It must have been such a shock.” I paused. “Does this mean you’ll let Althea go?”

  The sheriff heaved a sigh. “I knew you’d ask that. How can I? It doesn’t prove she didn’t use her snakes on Al Geary. Althea didn’t have a beef with Adam Clayton, only Al.”

  I knew it was unlikely, but still worth a try. “Any leads for this yet?”

  “Just the other participants in the gardening competition,” Astrid said. “I’ll start looking at the roster tomorrow after I get a copy of it.”

  “Do you want to meet tomorrow and go through it together?” I asked.

  “Sure,” Astrid said. “Anytime outside of one to three. I’m busy then.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’m meeting Lucy for lunch at one anyway.” I’d felt like I was neglecting my good friend lately. Then again, as the town mayor, Lucy was even more booked than I was most of the time.

  “Where are you meeting her?” Astrid asked. “Maybe we can meet straight after.”

  “Not sure,” I said. “She wants me to come to the Mayor’s Mansion first in case she gets stuck in a meeting.”

  “Good plan,” Astrid said.

  Britta returned and gave me my wand. “Nothing to report.” She’d tucked a flower behind her ear. “I figured it may as well not go to waste.”

  “I’d better get home to Daniel before he calls you to search for me,” I said. Not to mention I was bone tired.

  “See you tomorrow,” Britta called after me.

  I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Are you going to work on the roster, too?”

  The deputy blinked in confusion for a moment and I noticed Astrid step on her foot.

  “Yeah,” Britta said. “The roster.”

  I was too tired to figure out what was going on with them. I sank into the seat of my car and drove home before I fell asleep at the wheel.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I slept a solid ten hours, which was almost unprecedented for an insomniac like me. Daniel was already at the office, but he’d left me a note with hearts drawn on it.

  “What time is lunch with Lucy?” Gareth asked.

  “One o’clock,” I said. “I’m going to stop and see Althea on the way.”

  “Is that what you’re going to wear?” Gareth asked.

  I looked down at my trousers cinched together with a giant safety pin. “I’m pregnant. I can get away with this.”

  “But should you?”

  I groaned. “Fine. What should I wear?”

  “You have that adorable maternity dress that hugs your belly,” he said. “You’ve only
worn it once.”

  “Because if I wear a dress, then I have to shave my legs,” I said, “but I can’t see my legs. Understand my quandary?”

  “I’ll shave your legs,” Gareth volunteered.

  I had to be mental because, for a fleeting moment, I actually considered his offer. “Thanks, Gareth, but that’s what magic is for.” I returned to my room for my wand, stripped off my offensive trousers, and performed a quick spell on my bare legs. I slipped on the red maternity dress.

  “Much better,” Gareth said. “How about those black strappy sandals?”

  I tried to wedge my feet into them, but my feet were too swollen. “I’ll have to wear the black flip-flops instead.”

  He gave a weary sigh. “Ah well, we can’t have everything.”

  I started toward the doorway.

  “What about your hair?” Gareth asked, almost in a panic.

  “What about my hair? I brushed it.”

  “How about once more with feeling?”

  I eyed him curiously. “What’s with you?”

  “Nothing,” he said quickly. “I just don’t want you to take Daniel for granted. You should be making an effort to look nice.”

  “I’m growing his baby,” I said. “He should be careful not to take me for granted.”

  “One more swish with the brush,” he said. “You know how competitive Lucy can be. Her hair will look professionally styled.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. I didn’t have the patience for an argument. I brushed my hair until it shone. “Satisfied?”

  “Never,” Gareth said, “but that’ll do.”

  “Good enough for me.” I tossed the brush onto the dresser and went downstairs to retrieve my handbag. “I’ll tell Althea you said hello.”

  “Tell her I’ve been visiting her,” he said. “She just can’t see me. I moved some of her study cards around yesterday and she was a wee bit angry.”

  “I won’t tell her that part.”

  I left the house and spent an hour with Althea before heading to the Mayor’s Mansion. The Gorgon seemed in good spirits all things considered. I’d expected her to be losing patience with the system, but she was content to study and not much else. There was a dedicated student.

  Nichole, Lucy’s assistant, greeted me at the door. “Emma, you look stunning.”