by Amy Boyles
Thorne cleared his throat. Was the vampire nervous? Did they get nervous? I doubted it. But there he sat, clearing his gizzard like he had a gigantic frog stuck in it.
“You want to know my secrets?”
“Yes,” Mama said with a hint of smugness. “I know you have at least one, and I want to hear it. It makes no sense to me that a vampire would be policing a town full of witches—even a cursed town, or whatever is screwing with this place. So. I have to assume that you did something or ticked someone off to be forced here. After all, a person like you would want more in life than being stuck here, high in the Smokies where the Bigfoots roam.”
Bigfoot? I mouthed to her. With a flick of her hand Mama dismissed my question.
Thorne chuckled. “What makes you think I want more than to live in Witch's Forge?”
“Please. Don’t play me for a fool. I’m helping you, remember? After dinner we’ll discuss what I’ve found so far.”
“But we haven’t discovered anything,” Rose blurted.
Mother kicked her under the table. “Ow,” Rose said.
Thorne swiped a napkin over his face to hide a smile. “I’ll tell you what I can. How’s that?”
“Perfect. Maybe then Charming will be convinced you’re not a bad vampire after all.”
“I never said he was a bad vampire,” I protested.
“You act like it,” Thorne said. “Your hate for me is scorching.”
I couldn’t argue. “You haven’t exactly been welcoming either.”
“You broke into my house!”
“For a greater cause. To find my friend.”
His exasperation nearly blew the ceiling off the room. “I’m looking for him.”
“You also have a death to solve.”
“They’re connected,” he fumed.
“Now you agree with me.”
“I never said I didn’t.” Thorne glared at me and then turned back to my mother, because apparently dealing with her was easier.
Haha. Joke was on him. Mama was ten times worse than me.
“You’re right.” He slid a knife into the fried chicken. Sheesh, this guy was so well-mannered he made me look like a hick when I picked up my drumstick and sank my teeth into it.
I watched closely to see if he’d actually eat any of the cooked flesh.
Thorne paused with his fork near his mouth. “My father and I got into an argument.”
“What sort of argument?” my mother asked.
“The sort that involved me being sent here.”
“So you were banished.”
“More like imprisoned,” he said. “I can’t leave.”
“At all?” Rose asked, astonished.
Thorne shook his head. The fork still hovered in front of his lips. “No.”
“I hope you don’t mind me prying,” Mama said, “but what could you have done that chained you here?”
Sorrow filled his eyes. “I saved a woman from death.”
Mama shot me a look that said, You see? He’s not that bad. My return expression said, I’m still not buying it.
“You saved her?” Mama repeated.
Thorne nodded. “The thing is, she wasn’t supposed to be saved. She was dying, so I turned her.”
“Into a vampire?” I said coldly.
His gaze flickered to me. “Yes.”
“And for that your father banished you?” Rose said. “Well, I think what you did was wonderful.”
“Give him a medal,” I said.
“Charming,” my mother warned.
I hiked a shoulder in innocence. “What?”
“Do not let your personal prejudice infiltrate our dinner.” She glanced to Thorne. “You have to forgive my daughter; she has a bad history with vampires.”
“As do you,” I shot back.
“Some of us can forgive,” she replied coldly.
Thorne nodded. A slash of dark hair fell into his eyes. “I understand. Most witches despise us.”
“Well, Charming isn’t much of a witch,” Mama added.
I wanted to die from embarrassment.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Thorne said. “She managed to sneak into my house while I wasn’t there. Seems like it would take some magic to do that.”
“It’s not like you have hellhounds guarding the place,” I said.
“He’s at the vet,” Thorne said smartly.
Well, touché.
“So tell us,” Mama continued. Because my mother couldn’t leave the conversation there, where the vampire turned someone into another vamp, probably against her will. Instead she had to pry more. “Did you love this woman? The one who wasn’t supposed to be turned?”
“Yes—no,” he quickly added. “Not the way you think. I wasn’t in love with her.”
“Then why did you turn her?” I said sarcastically, fully expecting him to reveal some selfish answer.
“Because my father loved her,” Thorne answered.
How I hated him.
“So romantic,” Rose mused. “You didn’t love her but because your father did, you made her immortal.”
“Please,” I muttered.
“Why didn’t your father want her saved?” Mama asked.
Thorne settled his fork on the table. It still had the chicken on it, I noted.
“My father isn’t my biological father,” he explained. “He’s the man who turned me. Several years ago my father made a law that no one could be turned without permission.”
“And who’s your dad, Lord of the Vampires?” I said.
“Yes,” Thorne quickly answered, shutting me up.
As Thorne explained the situation, his words took on a charismatic lilt. At first I had thought he was a stuffy old vampire, crotchety and jaded from several lifetimes of killing and sucking blood. But I quickly realized he spoke with great fervor, as if he loved words, highlighting the ones he found important and talking with an energy that surprised me.
Maybe there was something human left inside him after all.
Perhaps I shouldn’t push my luck.
“Helena was dying from cancer. My father had loved her for years, but Helena didn’t know our secret. It would’ve killed him to watch her die, but he wouldn’t ask the council to approve her being turned. He’d made too many mistakes in the past and didn’t want it to haunt him.
“So I did it. Without permission and knowing what I would face if I made Helena one of us. So I gladly did it and,” he directed that to me, “the vampires you hate who also help serve this community came with me, deciding they would rather be with me than lose me. As I said, they can still come and go, but they choose to stay mostly.”
“How thoughtful. Bloodsuckers who stick together.”
My mother shot me a harsh look. “So how did Helena respond to the news that she was now a vampire?”
Thorne sipped from his sweet tea; at least that’s what it looked like. “I asked her first. I made sure it was a decision she wanted. I would never turn anyone who refused.”
“Well, that’s very kind of you,” Mama said. She glanced around at the plates. Mine and Rose’s were empty. Thorne’s was not. “Can I get you something else?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “No, this is wonderful. I’m finished.”
She rose. “Great. If we’re all done, I propose I get back to work deciphering the spell that caused the ripped shirts.”
Thorne rose as well. “And I need the shirt that was taken.”
“We can arrange that,” Mama said. “Thorne, thank you for joining us for dinner.”
He smiled. “It was my pleasure.”
After Thorne left, I scrubbed his dishes hard to make sure none of his vampire cooties remained on them.
Mama strode by, inspecting my work. “Charming, what are you doing for the rest of the day?”
“Running to Fire Town. The bartender at the tavern said that Langdon had met up with some fire witches.”
My mother shot Rose a knowing look.
“What i
s it?”
“Nothing,” Mama sniffed. “But I wouldn’t hang out with fire witches if I were you.”
“Why not?”
“Because your mother’s old nemesis is a fire witch,” Rose said.
I quirked a brow. “Nemesis? This is the first I’ve heard of a nemesis.”
“I don’t have a nemesis,” my mother snapped.
“Oh? Then Frankie Firewalker isn’t your nemesis?”
My eyes widened. “Who’s Frankie Firewalker?”
“No one you need to concern yourself with,” my mother said quickly.
“I’m intrigued.”
My mother frowned at Rose. “Don’t fill her head with silly ideas. Charming, I don’t have a nemesis. Even if Frankie Firewalker is someone from my past, she’s no enemy.”
“Okay.” I was unconvinced. “Does she live here?”
“Now how could Glinda’s nemesis live here?” Rose said. “The magic in town is broken.”
“So she doesn’t,” I said. “Good to know.”
Mama flicked her hand toward the hallway. “And take that horrible broom with you, too. It’s hideous and I don’t like the way it’s looking at me.”
I frowned at the broom, which looked exactly as it always did. “Okay, sure. I’ll take it just for you.”
I snatched Broom and headed outside to find some fire witches.
It was hot. The humidity made it feel like one hundred and twenty degrees instead of ninety. I got in my car and cranked up the air-conditioning.
The way to Fire Town was marked by lots of stores I hadn’t seen before: Poisoned Apple Winery—not sure if the name on that one was a hit or miss. There was also the Ole Time Witch Photo, where you and the family could dress up like witches or wizards and have your photos taken.
The kudzu wasn’t as pronounced on this trek. I wondered if the fire witches zapped it back with their fiery magic.
I’d have to remember to ask.
A flock of crows met me in Fire Town. They announced my arrival with caws so loud I nearly had to cover my ears.
“Well, there went the element of surprise,” I murmured sarcastically.
Fire Town itself looked as mainstream as the rest of Witch's Forge. A white clapboard sign welcomed me to Fire Town, which was one of the only reasons I knew I was in the right place.
That and the crows, that was.
A circular fire pit sat just in the center of a traffic circle. Flames like fingers reached for the sky.
I was beginning to wonder who I should to talk to when I noticed a nice little magic shop just off the road. I pulled into a parking spot, grabbed my file folder and headed inside.
Forced air cranked loudly, cooling the shop. I was fanning my blouse, trying to get some of that frigid air down my clothes, when a chipper voice greeted me.
“Welcome to Crow’s Nest.”
I peered around a cabinet full of curing crystals to see a red-haired, green-eyed, wide-smiling witch.
I actually smiled back. Like a genuine smile, not something I had to force.
“Hey there,” I said. “Maybe you can help me.”
“I can try. I don’t get many shoppers, so I’ve got some time.”
“My name’s Charming Calhoun. Mayor Dixon hired me to matchmake this town.”
Her eyelids flared with surprise. “You’re the matchmaker! Oh, I’m so excited to meet you. My name’s Blaire Fireclaw.”
“How do you do?”
Blaire smirked. “You haven’t been here very long, have you? Living here you know not to ask how anyone’s doing because everyone’s magic is crap, there’s no economy and if you try to leave, you can, but it still won’t fix your magic.”
I grimaced. “Sorry. I’m trying to change that.”
Blaire shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. But hey, I make truffles on the side. Want one? I just made them. I had a feeling I’d be getting in a new visitor.”
I smiled and took the offer. The chocolate melted on my tongue. It was both sweet and bitter. I loved it.
“Tell me,” Blaire said in a Southern twang, “did you come here to match me?”
“Actually no, but I can.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “No thanks. Not until more folks enter this town. I know all the men my age and I’m not interested in them and before you ask, I don’t want to marry someone’s grandfather. I don’t like ’em old, neither.”
I laughed. “Fair enough. But that’s not why I came. You know that Langdon Huggins was murdered.”
She clicked her tongue. “There’s no surprise there. I’m surprised that sorry fella hadn’t been knocked off earlier.”
I didn’t hide my surprise. “Why would you say that?”
She hiked a shoulder. “Mainly because all he ever did was stir up trouble. Langdon saw the inside of the town jail by the time he was ten.”
“The bar jail?”
She nodded. “That’s the one.”
“I heard he had some friends who were fire witches.”
Blaire studied me. “He did,” she finally answered.
“You don’t want to tell me?”
“It’s a couple of witches who are always trying spells that get them in trouble with the elders.”
My eyebrows shot up. “What sort of spells?”
“Oh, the usual stuff.” Blaire paused to eat a truffle. The suspense was killing me. “Last year they tried putting on a fireworks show at the Fourth of July, but because no one’s magic works right, the spell caused a sinkhole that nearly swallowed part of Fire Town.”
Sounded like the witches I needed to meet. “Do you know if they’ve ever worked any sort of transformation spells?”
Blaire shrugged. “If they were trying to turn a frog into a prince, more than likely they’d end up turning a prince into an ostrich.”
I laughed. “I need to talk to them. Can you tell me where I’ll find these witches?”
“Sure. They run Witch Memorabilia; it’s a store just down the street that’s filled with figurines of famous witches and antique cauldrons and stuff.”
“Perfect. Thanks.”
Blaire clicked her tongue. “Let me know if you need any more help or want to sample any more truffles.”
I thanked her and left. It would be good to have a friend in this town. There was no telling how long I’d be stuck here, and hanging out with my aunt and mother all the time wasn’t exactly high on my priority list.
Or on my list at all, to be honest.
I found the memorabilia store easily enough and went inside. There, I found one witch and one wizard busily dusting shelves and taking inventory.
“Good afternoon,” I said cheerily.
They exchanged a look before returning to their business.
Wow, tough crowd. If Witch's Forge ever opened up to outside visitors, these two would have to work on their social skills.
“I’m Charming Calhoun,” I said. “The town matchmaker.”
Finally the woman—a lithe and delicately boned creature with long blonde hair—turned away from the witch she was dusting with a grimy rag.
“I’m Sweet Rush and this is my twin brother, Sawyer Rush.”
I said hello to both. Sweet gave me a bored stare. “What can we do for you?”
It hadn’t taken me long to figure out my in. I just wasn’t sure if it would work.
“I’m trying to match two people who don’t seem to want to meet.” I grimaced. “It’s so frustrating, when you’re the only person who can get two people together but they don’t want anything to do with each other. I was hoping a spell could change all that.”
Sawyer, who had blond hair like his sister’s but wore it short and spiked on top, surveyed me with interest. “What sort of spell?”
“Oh,” I said casually, studying the goods on the shelves, “something sort of like a glamour but more complicated.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Sawyer said. “Can you be more specific?”
I leaned in and
lowered my voice. “I would love to be more specific, but I’m afraid what I say to y’all may get out. I’m not sure if this sort of spell is really, um, ethical.”
“Oh, then please tell us what it is,” Sawyer said.
I licked my lips. “Well, I’ve got a couple who doesn’t want to meet. She wants her man to be fierce, super fierce, so I wanted to transform him into something very strong. Something so strong he might even rip out of his shirt.”
Sweet narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know a spell like that.”
“Really?” Here went nothing. “I’m surprised because Langdon Huggins told me to ask y’all about it.”
Sawyer cocked his head at me. “Langdon Huggins came to us asking about a spell, but we couldn’t help him.”
Sweet nodded. “He sure did. Fire magic is transformative.”
“Why’s that?” I said.
“Because of the nature of it,” she explained. “It can destroy. But when it does, say in a forest fire, the destruction leads to rebirth. The forest regenerates when the old is lost so the new can be born.”
I thought about that for a moment. “So is it possible that a spell wouldn’t be needed at all for what I’m trying to do?”
“Hard to say. For sure you’d need a lot of power,” Sawyer said.
“The fire springs,” Sweet said. “They’d be involved in something like that, for sure.”
“If that’s what you’re looking for,” Sawyer said. “That’s where you’d go, but I don’t know anyone from here who could work a successful spell like that. When we couldn’t help Langdon, that’s where we sent him.”
I wouldn’t go out there by myself. I’d need to talk to my mother. She was the one studying the spell.
I thanked the twins for their help and was about to walk out the door when an idea came to me. I turned around.
“Y’all haven’t heard of a witch called Frankie Firewalker, have you?” I said.
The twins exchanged a look. Sawyer answered. “We have.”
I rubbed my lips in glee. “Great. Tell me everything you know.”
SEVENTEEN
I headed back to discuss my progress with the mayor when a commotion in front of her office caught my attention.
A band of vampires was standing on the street. They had Cap Turner handcuffed and were dragging him away.