Shiver Me Witches
Riddler’s Edge Book Four
by A.A. Albright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organisations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © A.A. Albright 2018
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.
Newsletter: http://www.subscribepage.com/z4n0f4
Website: https://aaalbright.com
Table of Contents
1. Detective Happy
2. It’s Happening All Over Again
3. Until the End of Time
4. Many Thick Skins
5. A Box Full of Buzzkills
6. Totes Frustrating
7. Compelling Questions
8. With Less Love than Ever
9. The Lesson of the Creepy Halloween Decorations
10. Heathens and Harlots
11. An Aura Unknown
12. A Spooktacular Tour
13. A Trustworthy Turnip
14. Love Among the Turnips
15. Fuzz’s Giddy Aunt
16. Impervious?
17. Smashing Pumpkins and Saving Souls
18. Party House
19. Before I Cackle You to Death
20. The Gifts My Father Gave
21. What’s In the Box?
22. Does Everyone Have a Giddy Aunt?
23. Pieces of Cake
24. Scaredy-Cat
25. The Year of the Crow
26. Sail Away With Me …
1. Detective Happy
An early morning run had seemed like such a good idea when it occurred to me. I mean, what could be wrong with jogging along the strand, smelling the sea air and feeling the breeze whip through your hair? And while I was at it, maybe the breeze and brisk exercise could also undo the sort of food hangover that was caused by staying up until four, eating junk food at the Vander Inn. Hey, it was possible. Unlikely, but possible.
So there I was, jog jog jogging my way along the lovely sand in Riddler’s Edge, completely not avoiding the sexy lighthouse further along the shore. It was just a little bit too much for me on my first ever morning run, that was all.
And even if I had been avoiding it, well so what? Avoiding that lighthouse just made me a sensible person. The sort of person who didn’t need reminders of the most perfect night of her life smacked in her face first thing on a Monday morning, thank you very much.
So I jogged my way south of the town, along the long stretch of sand, listening to an audiobook on my phone while I ran. It was an enjoyable yarn, set in a bygone era of candlelight, horse-drawn carriages, and men who worked the land.
Mr Danby, a grumpy but gorgeous tenant farmer, was secretly in love with Miss Eames, the new schoolmistress. He showed his love by being irritating and argumentative. I’m not sure why, but I found that oddly romantic. They had shared one night of passion together, but because her father was an incredibly rich aristocrat and Mr Danby was a poor, struggling tenant farmer, they could never be together again. I was just getting to the most romantic part of all when …
‘Ow!’ I pulled my earbuds out and rubbed my forehead, staring in shock at Detective Dylan Quinn. He was wearing running clothes, but there wasn’t so much as a bead of sweat on his perfect forehead. In fact, he looked far too good to be real. Black hair, dark eyes and legs that looked far better in shorts than mine did. ‘Why are you bumping in to me?’
He laughed and, much to my annoyance, his laugh was deep, husky, and divine. He really wasn’t playing fair. ‘I’ve been shouting your name for the last few minutes, Ash. But you’ve been too busy running along with your head down to notice me.’ He reached up to my forehead. ‘You’d better get something cold on that. Or is it something hot?’ He let out another deep laugh. ‘I can never remember which. But we can look it up on our trusty friend the internet while I make you some coffee. We might need to get you a change of shoes and socks, too. Yours are soaked right through.’
I looked down at my runners. They were a little on the uncomfortable side, due to this being the first time I’d ever worn them. They were also an unwise choice when running next to an overenthusiastic tide. But whilst the hot parts of my book had been playing in my ear, I hadn’t noticed my feet growing wet. I hadn’t noticed anything except what Mr Danby was saying to Miss Eames. Her ankles were glorious, apparently. It had been all he could do to pretend he didn’t want to caress them again, but now …
‘Ash?’ Dylan’s voice lowered with concern, and he stepped closer. ‘I think I’d better get you lying down, Aisling. I’m afraid you might be concussed.’
≈
‘The Vander Inn was closer,’ I grumbled as he led me onto the deck of his lighthouse. And also, I neglected to add, I’d rather be anywhere but here. Sure, it was the most beautiful building in Riddler’s Edge, and in it lived the most gorgeous man. But seeing as I couldn’t be in the beautiful building with the gorgeous man nearly as often as I’d like, I’d begun to develop an irrational irritability when it came to the place.
‘I know that, but it’s thronged with all of the Halloween tourists right now, isn’t it? And I think you need a bit of special attention before you head off to work. You sit there and make yourself comfy and I’ll go and fetch you some fresh socks and a cold or hot compress, and I’ll get you something to eat while I’m at it. Go on. Sit down and make yourself at home.’
I did sit down. Not because he told me to, though. It was just that the dawn light was so pretty and orange this morning, making my irritability melt away. Riddler’s Edge was on the west coast of Ireland, and the deck of Dylan’s lighthouse faced right out onto the Atlantic Ocean. It was the perfect vantage. Well, the second-perfect vantage. The absolute perfect place to spend the morning was a couple of floors above us, in a room at the top of the lighthouse, on a bed that faced out to sea.
‘Sod it, anyway,’ I said, feeling irritable once more and standing up from my lounger. I wasn’t staying there. I couldn’t stay there. I mean, what woman in her right mind would want that sort of torture in her life?
And Dylan was bound to get testy soon, anyway. We’d barely been able to spend more than a minute together without arguing ever since that one, perfect night. And when we weren’t arguing, we were ignoring one another. It was a huge annoyance in my life, one I didn’t need or want. So I did the mature thing. I stuck my earbuds in once more, and made my way around the side of the house, heading for the road that led back into town, listening to more of my book as I went:
‘Oh, Miss Eames! I want you so much, but you know I can’t have you. It doesn’t matter how tempting your ankles are. It wouldn’t be right, what with me being a lowly tenant farmer and you being the daughter of the richest man in the land.’
‘But Mr Danby, none of that matters to me. We could be together, if only you really wanted us to be.’
‘Oh, I do want to be with you, Miss Eames. More than anything in this world. But such a thing can never be. Just know that the one, precious night we spent together in my barn during the rainstorm … it was the best night of my life.’
‘Ash?’ Dylan pulled out my earbuds, standing behind me with a steaming mug of coffee In hand. ‘Were you leaving?’
How on the goddess’s great green earth had he caught up to me so quickly? I’d been running fast. Well, as fast as I could. Okay, maybe I hadn’t been running that fast after all. But we couldn’t all be super-fit pieces of perfection like Dylan. ‘I … em … I was just leaving because I don’t want to b
e late for work, that’s all. But it was terribly rude of me, I know. I should have at least said goodbye. So I completely understand if you’d like to have a good long argument about how impolite I was.’
He waved his free hand, chuckling softly. ‘I’m not going to argue with you, Ash. In fact, I’m feeling a little bit tired of arguing with you. Is that why you left? All of this tension between us is upsetting you?’
‘I … yes?’ Who was this man? Ever since we’d been together, he had never once passed up an opportunity to bicker.
‘Well then I’m truly sorry. No one in their right mind should want to argue because of some pent-up emotions, should they?’
‘Em … no. No they most definitely should not.’
‘So if that’s what I’ve been doing,’ he said, ‘well then I think it’s about time that I stopped.’ He glanced down at his watch. ‘And it’s only a quarter to seven, so how about we start now? Take this coffee and follow me. I’ve laid out a little bit of breakfast, and I was hoping we could just relax and enjoy ourselves, like civilised people. I know that’s what you want.’
‘Of course it is,’ I said. ‘What sort of crazy woman would want otherwise?’
He smiled, and it was by far the most relaxed smile I had ever seen on Dylan’s face. It was the smile of an easy-going man, a man who had no weight on his shoulders. It was a smile that was, in a word, unnerving. He had to be pulling my leg, didn’t he? Maybe he was laying aside his to-the-point grumpiness and trying out passive-aggressiveness for a change.
I glanced down into my coffee, hoping that I was right. For weeks now, Dylan had been ‘accidentally’ adding milk and sugar to my coffee, so we could bicker. But this coffee was black, just the way I liked it. I sighed. Serving me my coffee the way I liked it could hardly be construed as passive-aggressiveness. Maybe Dylan really was turning over a new, non-argumentative leaf. Maybe he really had decided that it was silly to get his kicks from arguing with me.
Any well-adjusted woman would be happy with the change. I followed him back around to the deck of his house, sure that if I searched deep, deep down, I could find that well-adjusted woman inside.
Somewhere during my not-so-great escape, he’d been laying out plates of baked goods and a pot of coffee. Sure, I’d only enjoyed breakfast on the deck with him that one time, so I could be wrong – but this did not seem like it would be his usual fare.
‘I hope you like it,’ he said as I sat down and grabbed myself a jam-filled, sugar-covered doughnut. ‘I just had the urge to make breakfast fun for a change, y’know. I normally just have my red smoothie and a bowl of porridge. But it’s practically Halloween now. If you can’t enjoy yourself at Halloween, when can you enjoy yourself?’
I’d always been a big Halloween fan, so if he wanted to start giving out treats a few days early, I was all for it – confused as heck, but all for it nonetheless. ‘Mm hm,’ I said through a mouthful of doughnut. ‘Nothing like a sugar-filled breakfast to kick-start the day.’
‘I was surprised to see you out running,’ he went on. ‘You usually don’t do running. That’s my thing.’
I looked at his body, sighing inwardly. Yeah, running was his thing. As was lifting weights, rowing, cycling, and a little bit of yoga, too. He also played basketball, football, tennis … In the few months since I hadn’t been going out with Dylan Quinn, I’d noticed an awful lot about the man. Like the fact that he didn’t have such an amazing physique through magical means. He worked for it. And oh, I liked to watch him work – or at least I used to. Lately I’d been avoiding that all-too tempting sight.
‘There’s nothing wrong with trying to get fit,’ I said defensively. ‘Me and Greg have been planning on doing the whole keep fit thing for a while now. I mean, sure, this doughnut probably doesn’t go hand in hand with that, but we all have to start somewhere.’
‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said in a far too agreeable manner. ‘I didn’t see Greg with you, though. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that wizard run – unless it was in the direction of the ice cream van.’
‘Yeah, well, he really did mean to start today. He was just too tired. We were up late last night with Pru and Jared. Watching TV and eating takeaway. When I called into Greg’s flat to wake him up this morning he told me to go and – well … I’ll just leave it to your imagination.’
Dylan topped up my coffee, still wearing that same annoyingly amiable smile on his face. ‘You’ve been having an awful lot of late nights, I’ve noticed. You and Greg and Pru … and Jared.’
‘Noticed?’ I said, hearing the hopeful note in my voice. If he’d noticed, then maybe he’d been obsessively keeping tabs on me the way I’d been doing with him. Wait – did I say obsessively? I rescind that. No, I outright deny it. I never said such a thing. Perhaps you read it wrong.
‘Well, I say noticed,’ he continued. ‘What I mean is that Grace told me. She’s worried about you. But honestly, I think she’s overreacting. Nothing wrong with a few late nights here and there – or all the time, if that’s what you want. We all need to let our hair down more often, as far as I’m concerned.’
Now that was taking things a step too far. Even if Dylan didn’t have such short hair, I sincerely doubted he would ever let it down. I’d once had a foster mother who believed that certain aliens journeyed to this planet and took over the bodies and the minds of humans. I was starting to think she might have been right. This man was not the Dylan Quinn I knew.
‘Anyway, what were you doing on that part of the beach?’ I asked. ‘You always run north in the mornings.’
He arched a dark brow and gave me a little smirk. ‘Always? Anyone would think you’d been looking at me through that telescope I know you have in your room at the Vander Inn.’
I’d already polished off a doughnut, so I grabbed a cream bun and began to pick at it. ‘You’re changing the subject, Dylan.’ Something I would never do, obviously. ‘I specifically started running south this morning so I wouldn’t ruin your workout, and then you had to go and ruin mine.’ Maybe that last part sounded a tad on the sulky side, but that was exactly what I was aiming for. The more sulky comments I came out with, the more likely I was to kick start a row. And if he argued, then all was right with the world. If he took the high road … then I had no idea what to think.
He looked steadily at me, his face filled with concern. Well, criminy! He was taking the high road. ‘I really am sorry if I ruined your morning, Ash. It’s a right downer when someone tries to crash your fun.’
I stood up, groaning in annoyance. ‘Downer? Dylan, you sound like a surfboard-riding teenager,’ I pointed out. ‘Anyway, you didn’t ruin my morning,’ I admitted. ‘Not exactly. It’s just that I’ve been … well, I’ve been …’
‘Avoiding me like the plague?’ he finished. ‘Yeah, I’ve noticed. I’ve been doing the same, and I’m getting bored of it. So how about we sit back, relax, and enjoy the Halloween air together. Hey, we could even bunk off work. We could just chill here, and talk about what’s wrong and how we can fix it.’
For a good long moment I gawked at him, replaying his last few words in my mind. Sure, there had been the reasonable suggestion of talking things out. On any other day I would have jumped at the offer. But seeing as he had also made the suggestion that we ‘bunk off work’ I was growing ever more unnerved by the all-new Dylan.
‘You want to talk about what’s wrong?’ I threw the cream bun down. ‘This is what’s wrong. You don’t do cream buns, Dylan. And you’re so perky this morning. And casual. Acting like you haven’t got a care in the world, acting like taking a day off work is a perfectly normal thing for you to do. You’re supposed to be the biggest grump in the world, but today you’re all … all … happy.’
‘And you don’t want me to be happy? Wow, I didn’t have you pegged for being a Debbie Downer, Aisling.’
I blinked. ‘Who are you and what did you do with Dylan? Of course I want you to be happy, strange alien creature who has t
aken over my friend. But this is just … it’s just …’
He left his seat and stepped towards me, taking my hands in his. ‘It’s just that it’s about time we started behaving like adults instead of like frustrated teens.’ He gave me a lopsided smile. ‘Because that’s all I want. So let’s start this morning. We can be friends, can’t we? We can chill and watch some Witch Wars together.’ He giggled. Yes, you read that right. Dylan Quinn giggled. ‘Ooh, we could even order some pizza for lunch.’
‘We have a meeting to go to later this morning,’ I pointed out, pulling away from him. ‘A meeting that you’ve never once missed. Even if you did add milk and sugar to my coffee every time we were there.’
He chuckled. ‘Yeah, that was childish of me. I couldn’t help myself. But that’s not me anymore. I’m no longer the man who argues with you just so he can vent his frustrations. I’m no longer the man who loves to see the stubborn glint that forms in your eyes just before you give me a good talking to. I’m no longer the man who enjoys the frisson of our frequent rows. I’m the new Dylan. The chilled Dylan.’
He was a new Dylan all right – a Dylan who was lucky that I wasn’t shoving my cream bun in his face before I called in the healer. In fact, maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. I put a hand in the pocket of my shorts, grabbing my phone. Just as I was about to excuse myself and make a call, Dylan’s phone rang.
‘Well, I wonder who that could be,’ he said pleasantly as he looked at the phone. ‘Oh, it’s Bert. I like Bert. Falls asleep on the job a lot, but who doesn’t?’
Once again, there was nothing for it but to gawk. Dylan was a detective at the local garda station. He was the highest ranked person there, and he was forever bemoaning the gardaí who worked under him, none more than the new guy, Bert.
He picked up the call. ‘Good morning, Bert. Isn’t it gorgeous today? Can’t you just feel the Halloween atmosphere in the air? I …’ He trailed off as he listened to whatever Bert had to say. His smile drooped a little, and eventually he said, ‘Yeah, well I guess that is sort of important. Hey, you know what’s funny though? If me and Ash had run south just a few minutes more, we would have seen the body.’ He paused to laugh, and then after another few seconds he said, ‘I know, right? She picked a pretty annoying time to get murdered. All I want to do at this time of year is relax.’ He laughed again at something Bert was saying, and finally killed the call.
Shiver Me Witches Page 1