Southern Belles and Spells Matchmaker Mysteries

by Amy Boyles

  My mother bristled. She did not, and I mean absolutely not, think that there was ever anything wrong with her. Glinda Calhoun was the most powerful witch to have lived in the past fifty years, and the thought that something might be affecting her magic was not in the cards.

  Mama flicked her hand. “Oh, of course it’s my magic, and not the fact the Witch’s Forge was absolutely broken before Charming arrived and started saving it.”

  I patted her soft tresses down. “It could have something to do with it, I suppose, but it’s weird.”

  “Try your hair,” she commanded.

  Yes, my mother commanded in all things. Glinda Calhoun was nothing if not all royal attitude. She should have been born a queen because she certainly acted like it—most of the time. But even given all her regalness, I loved Mama with all my heart—so much that it hurt.

  I picked up a strand of my hair and dropped it. Since I couldn’t see what it was doing, I watched Rose and Mama’s faces. When Rose smiled and Mama sighed in exasperation, I knew what had happened—my hair had fallen back into place.

  Rose tapped my mother’s shoulder. “I always knew at some point menopause would catch up to you. Don’t worry, Glinda. The whole thing is a phase. Why, I remember when I was enduring the change, I would’ve loved it if the only thing that happened to me was that my hair had a little extra frizz.”

  I bit back a laugh because there was no telling what was going to come out of Rose’s mouth. “What do you mean?”

  Rose shook her head emphatically. “What I mean is, my hormones were so out of whack that I radiated sensuality. I had men of all ages asking me out on dates. It was crazy. Men who were models, billionaires, even a few moguls, but let me tell you I could see right through them.”

  She wagged her finger. “All they wanted was a piece of this—” She grabbed at herself. “They weren’t interested in my mind. So they were all out of luck.”

  The idea of a menopausal Rose being asked out by twenty-year-olds was almost too much to handle. I had to excuse myself from the room.

  I chewed the inside of my lip to keep from laughing. Just then, my phone rang. I fished it out from my purse.

  “Belles and Spells Matchmakers, how can I help you?”

  “This is Mayor Winnifred Dixon’s office calling for Charming Calhoun.”

  The voice was unfamiliar, but the mayor’s office wasn’t. “This is Charming.”

  “Please hold for the mayor.”

  I smirked, unsure what this whole new development was about. After a moment a familiar voice filled the quiet.

  “Thank you, India,” Mayor Dixon, in her clipped voice full of authority, announced. “Charming, sorry to be so formal, but that was India, my new assistant.”

  “How’s she working out?”

  “For starters, she hasn’t turned into Bigfoot and attempted to mate with the entire town.”

  “Aw now, Mayor, are you sure that’s a good thing?” I joked.

  But it really wasn’t funny. Only a few weeks ago the mayor’s previous assistant, Emily, had been caught turning men into Bigfoots—one of my employees included—in an attempt to mate. It had been a mess to unravel, and I’d almost gotten myself killed in the process.

  Needless to say, I’d stepped all over Thorne’s indestructible toes, and me butting into his investigation had started our, um, relationship, if you want to call it that, on the wrong foot.

  “I hope you’re joking, Charming,” the mayor said. “We don’t want any Bigfoots running around. The tourists are just now coming back. There are so many of them we’re finally experiencing traffic congestion. Oh, it’s wonderful.”

  I hadn’t driven down Witch’s Forge’s main drag in a couple of days, but apparently this was a sight to be seen. When I’d arrived, the streets were bare, magical grime covered the buildings—even the two dozen pancake houses that lined the road—and kudzu had invaded.

  And this kudzu bit—literally.

  “I’m so glad things are working out.” I smiled to myself. “I really am.”

  “Listen, Charming,” the mayor said in her all-business voice, “the reason I’m calling is because of the party tonight.”

  “Are you talking about the party for Reese?”

  “That’s the one,” she said enthusiastically. “Sorry if I stepped over the line, but I just heard that Reese was arriving and I wanted her to feel welcome. After all, it’s not every day we get a mail-order bride in town.”

  “That’s supposed to be a secret,” I said. “Jamison only thinks she’s his soul mate. I never mentioned a wedding to him.”

  The mayor tutted. “It’s only a matter of time if it works out. And I’m sure it will,” she said proudly. “You’re the best of the best.”

  “Thank you.” I leaned onto the wall and folded my arms. The house shook as if irritated with me. I straightened. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend.”

  “Who? Me?”

  “No.” I swatted the air. “The house. Keep going. What were you saying?”

  “Well anyway, I wanted Reese to feel welcome, so I thought I’d throw a party for her. I meant to tell you before the day of it, but well, you know how things happen. We all get busy. But anyway, it’s at seven in the Witch’s Forge Botanical Gardens. If you haven’t been, they’re beautiful and are really something to see, especially now that all the magic is slowly being fixed. Of course the humans all think the gardens are animatronic.” She scoffed. “As if you could make giant Venus flytraps out of gears and such, but it’s wonderful.

  “Though,” she admitted, “it did get a little hinky when our magic was broken and the place had to be shut down.”

  Tell me more. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh you know, the usual—attacking plants and such. But I’ve been promised the vegetation is on its best behavior now that you’ve come along and fixed things.”

  She took a breath. “So, what do you say? Will you join us at the party and welcome Reese officially to Witch’s Forge?”

  As if there was any question. I hadn’t even seen her since Jamison had whisked her away, but I remember what she looked like from her file at my central office—gorgeous dark brown hair that hung in loose waves, dark chocolatey cat eyes, a straight narrow nose—the woman was gorgeous.

  If she was half as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside, I would love her. I just knew it.

  “Of course I’ll be there. Who all is coming?”

  Mayor Dixon proudly said, “Why, the whole town.”

  Ah, the entire town—air witches mingling with earth witches, water witches with fire witches. A whole bunch of opposite personalities drinking punch and taking pictures next to gigantic Venus flytraps. Okay, I didn’t know for sure they were gigantic, but why not?

  I smiled. “Sure. I’ll be there. You can count me in.”

  Chapter 3

  “I still haven’t seen Reese,” I grumbled.

  Rose, Mama and I huddled in the middle of the Witch’s Forge Botanical Gardens, right by exactly what I had envisioned the gardens would have—a gigantic Venus flytrap.

  The head on the plant was at least three feet long. A thorny stalk erupted from the ground, and thick, veiny leaves looked strong enough to hold a cup of coffee.

  I considered it. “Do you think it eats chocolate?”

  Mama tugged at the green silk scarf she’d tied beneath her chin. “Do I think what eats chocolate?”

  I jerked my chin toward the plant. “The Purple People Eater here.”

  Pig sniffed the ground around it. One of her ears lifted in curiosity. “I don’t know, but Pig, you’d better come back here. I don’t trust that thing.”

  Pig gave the trap one more sniff and then turned up her nose and delicately pranced back to Rose’s side. Little diva in training.

  I dragged my gaze from the throng of people milling around to my mother. “Are you seriously going to wear that scarf and your sunglasses? You look like you’re in disguise.”

  “Un
til my hair settles down, I most certainly am,” she retorted. “It got worse as the day wore on.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” I mumbled.

  “Charming! Yoo-hoo!”

  I turned toward the sound of the voice. Mayor Dixon cut through a knot of people and waddled over to me. She wore a silk blouse, tweed skirt and strappy sandals. Her gray-streaked brown hair was bobby pinned back at the temples. Her red lips parted in a wide smile.

  A young woman, lithe and looking a little shell-shocked behind horn-rimmed glasses, scurried to catch up to the mayor.

  Winnifred Dixon clamshelled my hand in hers. “Charming, so glad you could make it. It looks like so many people have turned up. It’s truly wonderful. In a few minutes the band will start playing.”

  I balked. “There’s a band?”

  She waved at me in dismissal. “Of course. We want Reese to feel welcome.”

  My gaze darted from the WELCOME banner to waiters carrying trays topped with punch or canapés.

  Something smelled funny. “Mayor Dixon, are you really doing all this for Reese? I know my matches are one hundred percent, but it seems a little much.”

  Mayor Dixon smiled bashfully. “Well to be honest, I thought maybe while we were all gathered together, you could, you know…” She wiggled her fingers at me.

  I cocked my head. “What?”

  “She wants you to match more people so that this town can continue to flourish,” Mama said snidely. “Just be careful, Charming,” she warned.

  I knew what she meant. It had been prophesied when I was born that I would be the end of magic, and that end of magic was connected to me being in Witch’s Forge.

  I’d arrived with very little power. I could barely crack an egg with magic, but in the short time since I’d arrived, I’d already been granted both earth and air magic. Not that I knew what to do with the power, but so that the prophecy wouldn’t come true, I’d promised my mother that I wouldn’t accept gifts from any more witches.

  Pig had come from Earth Town, and Broom—a magical broom that took some sort of weird pleasure in spanking people—had been gifted from Air Town.

  Which meant I had two gifts to go before all magic ended.

  “My contract with the town,” I reminded my mother, “is to match as many people as I can.”

  She sniffed, obviously annoyed with me.

  I turned back to the mayor. “I’ll do what I can.”

  The mayor threaded her meaty fingers. “I knew you would. Thank you so much, Charming. Oh, and this is India, the face behind the voice.” She pushed her new assistant forward.

  India looked mortified. Her big doe eyes searched the ground for escape. I took her hand and smiled warmly. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  The poor scared creature dragged her gaze from the ground to me. “Thank you.”

  The mayor clapped her hands. “Now. Everyone, have a wonderful time. Charming,” she said pointedly, “I look forward to your report.”

  I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  As soon as she was gone, Mama turned to Rose. “What do you say we round up some punch with a kick?”

  Rose scratched Pig behind the ear. “Oh, I don’t know. The last time I found punch with kick, it kicked me back.”

  Mama rolled her eyes. “Come on. I think you’ll be safe here. Charming, want anything?”

  I shook my head. “I’m working, remember? Besides, I need to find Reese.”

  We parted ways, and I wove through the crowd. The music had just started up when a loud voice broke over the sounds of a brass horn.

  “You will leave my fur alone,” a man shouted. “I did not come here to be bothered by your kind.”

  I exited through the other end of the crowd and saw the same man from the train station—the one with all the luggage, still wearing his fur coat—in the garden.

  A blonde woman was glaring at him.

  “You will leave my fur alone,” he shouted again.

  Her hands were punched down into the pockets of her sundress. She wasn’t touching anything on him.

  A second later Jamison Huggins swept in and pulled the woman away. Wait. Had that been Reese? I scanned the crowd, but she and Jamison had vanished into the throng of people.

  I started to move toward them when a voice put a hitch in my step.

  “Care to dance?”

  The hair on the back of my neck shot up. I slowly turned to Thorne. He was freshly shaved, his face smooth as marble. He wore a black jacket over a white button-down, jeans and boots. His silvery eyes studied me with an intensity that glued my tongue to the bottom of my mouth.

  My gaze darted left and right as I tried to figure out who he had spoken to.

  Thorne rolled his eyes. “I was talking to you.”

  I peered at him, and my tongue became unstuck. “I must have had a mini-stroke because I’m pretty sure I thought I heard you ask someone to dance.”

  His jaw tightened. “It was you.”

  The scar at my throat itched. I scratched it.

  His gaze flickered to my throat, and Thorne’s chest deflated. “I’ll ask someone else.”

  Wow. I had subconsciously reminded Thorne that as a child I had been bitten by a vampire. That might have hurt his feelings.

  If he had any. I was still on the fence about whether or not vampires were human enough to feel emotions.

  Call me prejudiced, call me what you will, but I have my reasons for being the way that I am.

  “Wait,” I said as he shifted to move off. I gave him a skeptical look. “Do you really want to dance with me?”

  Thorne glanced skyward as if asking for serenity because I was either ridiculously dense or terribly stupid.

  “Yes.” He offered his hand. “I’m asking if you would like to dance.”

  My breath hooked in my throat. When I got it under control, I slid my palm over his. “Okay. Yes. I’ll dance with you.”

  I don’t even know where the words came from. They seemed foreign, as if someone had taken over my body—some person who danced with vampires.

  Before I had a chance to object, Thorne was leading me toward the dance floor. My head swam as my brain scurried to catch up with my feet.

  Thorne slowly turned to face me and gently laid his hand on my waist.

  An intense jolt sizzled down my spine. What the…? Must’ve been some sort of natural witch reaction to a vampire’s touch. Yes, I’m sure that was it.

  Thorne gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and we started to step with the music. I was not a professional dancer by any means, but give me a good lead and I could keep up.

  Speaking of, Thorne made good leading seem effortless. He whisked me down the dance floor, gently guiding me to the right or left. He must’ve had years of dancing experience or at least an excellent coach.

  Surprise filled me as I gazed up at him. My breath snagged in my throat as I realized he watched me.

  “Um. Well. You’re a very good dancer,” I said.

  “Is that a compliment?”

  My eyes narrowed. “Is it so hard to believe that I could give you a compliment?”

  “Let’s just say your words have bite.”

  I rolled my eyes. “My words? All your words to me have bite as well, sir.”

  Thorne leaned down and put his lips to my ear. His breath tickled my skin. I sucked in my quivering stomach. What was wrong with me?

  “I’m the one who asked you to dance,” he reminded me. As if that meant not all his words had bite.

  “Okay, you win,” I conceded. “You asked me to dance. Now you’ve proven it’s possible to have a conversation with me without being mean. Great job. You win.”

  Thorne’s eyes filled with amusement right before he lifted my hand and, to my surprise, spun me out. When he pulled me back in, I was still caught in the surprise of the moment and I crashed against his chest—again.

  That was twice in one day with this guy.

  I dropped my hand from his shoulder and pressed it to his chest t
o push away, and I couldn’t help but feel the hills and valleys of his muscles hiding beneath his clothes.

  “Must be what becoming a vampire does to you,” I murmured.

  Thorne gently peeled me from him. “What?”

  “How easily you dance,” I quickly concocted.

  The song wasn’t over, so I slid my hand back on top of his shoulder and let him lead, but the twirl had taken a little of the ferocious out of me.

  “I had lessons as a child,” Thorne said.

  “You did?” I cocked a brow at him. “When was that?”

  Suddenly a shield flew up over his eyes. “A long time ago is when it was.”

  “You’re not going to tell me anything about your past—about before, are you?”

  Thorne dragged his gaze from me to scan the crowd. “Why do you want to know?”

  I hiked a shoulder. “I thought you might want to share. I mean, we’re dancing. It’s a good bonding moment, don’t you think?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “I’m the last person you want to bond with.”

  He had me there. I’d made no bones about my dislike for Thorne, but it wasn’t as if he’d been nice to me, either. “Our kind are natural enemies, there’s no doubt about that. But you know things about me.”

  Thorne’s gaze dropped to mine, and I jutted out my chin in defiance, forcing myself to gaze into his silvery eyes and his ridiculously handsome face.

  The steel wall that had appeared in his eyes vanished and Thorne sighed. “My parents had me learn how to dance. It was a long time ago, before I became what I am now.”

  His voice tinged with sorrow, and my heart lurched at the hint of pain from his past.

  “I’m sorry if I’m asking things that are hard to talk about.”

  He shook his head. “There was nothing painful about dance lessons, except for the teacher. Mrs. Lemski was the worst. She would tap her cane in time, and if you were off, she’d slap it against your legs. That old woman could leave better bruises than my dad.”

  I chuckled. “I’m sure she was still no match for you.”

  “Me? I was no match for you. She’s only lucky she never met you. I’m sure Mrs. Lemski would’ve been pulling out her hair if she’d had to deal with you.”