Magical Mayhem: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Witches of Gales Haven Book 2)

by Lucia Ashta

  If not for its occupants, the cabin would have been idyllic, tucked away in this gorgeous scenery. The furniture was comfortable and overstuffed. The inside glowed with the flames flickering in the roaring fireplace. The place was quaint and otherwise lovely.

  Before I could chicken out, I walked toward the front door and rapped on the wood.

  From within, Irma’s voice rang out. “Don’t go anywhere.” Then she laughed. “Never mind. You can’t.”

  An eyeball peered at me through a saucer-sized window before the door swung open inward.

  “Marla Gawama,” Irma Lamont said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Trust me, neither did I.”

  Irma studied me intently. “How on earth did you find me? No one knows about this place.”

  “I don’t know. I accidentally grabbed a spelled artifact and now here I am. Though I’m not really here, am I?”

  Irma’s lips pursed as she considered, then she reached out to touch me. Her hand slid right through my image. “No, I guess not. Either way, the heat is real, so come on in so it doesn’t waste. It’s chilly up here in the mountains.”

  Entering, it was even nicer than I’d imagined. I would have loved to vacation here. Well, except for the very angry woman shooting eye daggers at me from the love seat. Maguire turned to look at me, his gaze empathetic.

  Irma closed the door behind me and took her seat again, gesturing toward another armchair across the room from her. Grateful to get off my feet, even if they weren’t real, I claimed it right away. I was still feeling unsteady and slightly dizzy.

  “Have you been looking for me?” Irma asked.

  “Not me in particular, but yes, the council’s been wondering where you are.” I looked to the Contonns. “And where they are. Half of them think you have Delise strung up by her toes like you said.”

  Irma laughed so hard her flat chest bounced up and down. She swept an errant strand of dark hair from her face, tucking it back behind her ear. “Trust me, the more time I spend with the woman, the more tempted I am. But no, I haven’t done that—yet—though I am wondering if I should, just to avenge Maguire here. You wouldn’t believe how she treats him.”

  “Oh I know. Remember, I used to date their son. I saw plenty I wish I hadn’t.”

  “Right, I guess you would have.” Irma retrieved her teacup from a side table and took a sip, studying me thoughtfully. “If people have been wondering where I am, let me guess. The artifact you have is a pretty knife.”

  My eyes widened. “Yes. How’d you know?”

  “Because Dottie Hames has left that knife all around town. She’s gotten forgetful, you know, over the years. She forgets where she leaves things. She had that knife spelled to help her find the things she’s looking for. Only she always forgets where she leaves the knife. You’d think she would have chosen something a little less dangerous than a knife to have spelled. She could have chosen a teacup, for pickle’s sake.” She held her cup up. “But no, the silly woman has to spell a knife. She said it was pretty and she likes pretty things.”

  Irma shook her dark head as if Dottie Hames were in front of her and she were reprimanding her for her shortsightedness.

  “So when I accidentally touched the knife, it brought me here,” I mused. “Because we were wondering where you were.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And … where are we?”

  “Oh, it’s a little place I had my sister create for me years ago, before she passed, you know.”

  No, I didn’t, but I nodded in sympathy at her loss just the same.

  “I figured I’d keep Delise here until she gave it up.”

  “Gave what up?” I asked.

  Irma huffed, setting her teacup back in its saucer harder than necessary. It clinked loudly. “The way to remove her magic from the barrier spell, of course. We can’t have that. The barrier spell is essential to our existence. Until she tells me how we’re going to eject her from it, she gets to enjoy my lovely company.”

  Delise snarled and growled, looking feral in her dingy pink poncho.

  Maguire scooted away from her on the love seat, which only allowed for a few inches between them.

  “And Maguire?” I asked.

  “Oh, apparently the crazy woman here has some sort of spell that links her lapdog to her. We were only here a few hours when Maguire just popped up. He’s been here ever since. He can’t leave her side. It’s like an invisible rubber band binds them together. They even have to go to the bathroom together.”

  “You can’t break the spell?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately, no. It’s not in my wheelhouse. I suspect Delise could, but she doesn’t want to risk Maguire running away and never coming back.”

  “I’m going to kill you for this,” Delise seethed.

  Irma smiled at her, like Delise was a mental patient and Irma was enjoying the show. “Not if I kill you first.” Irma cackled.

  I shifted back in my seat, wanting to get away from all of them. Sure, Irma was looking out for the town, but her hatred for Delise felt real, and I worried the council member was letting it overcome her. Or maybe so much time alone with Delise had driven her to the edge and then over it. That, I could understand. Delise could drive just about anyone crazy given enough time.

  I stood, wobbled, held on to an armrest and steadied. “Well, I’d better be getting back.” Assuming I could get back. I had no idea how to make that happen. I could read the emotions of animals and talk to them. Not super helpful magic at the moment.

  Oh! Oh. I totally forgot all about how I’d apparently absorbed some of the magic of Macy, Clyde, and Delise. How could I have forgotten?

  But I did know how. I wasn’t used to having all these powers. They didn’t feel natural to me. And I hadn’t had any need to use whatever I’d absorbed from the three of them. Delise could influence people’s thoughts, so long as they were susceptible to her magic, and not everyone was. Macy could disrupt magic, and Clyde could link powers. I had to keep the scope of my arsenal in mind.

  I finally noticed that all three of them were staring at me expectantly. Even Maguire’s gaze had lost its daze while he took me in.

  “How do I get back?” I asked Irma. “Do you know?”

  “Not exactly. Every artifact is different, but I have seen enough of Dottie traipsing around town with that knife in her hand, looking for whatever she last lost to guess at it. I think whenever she finds what she’s looking for, the knife releases its hold.”

  “Great. Makes sense,” I said. “Though I’m holding the knife in Gales Haven, not here, wherever this really is.” It hadn’t escaped my notice that Irma hadn’t actually told me.

  “That I know of, Dottie doesn’t ever leave Gales Haven,” Irma said. “She always asks others to pick up things for her when they go. She probably has no idea the knife can help her find things beyond our borders.”

  “Okay. Soooo, I’ve found you. Let’s return so I can get back into my … body or whatever.” I winced. I couldn’t even feel or hear Quade anymore, and I guessed he was freaking out by now since I was clearly more here than there.

  Irma shook her head. “Can’t. Not until Delise spills the beans.”

  “No need,” I said. “Her magic is gone from the barrier spell.”

  I hoped.

  “How?” Irma asked as she walked her cup and saucer over to the sink.

  “Uh, a leprechaun stole Jadine’s Spanx, and then he kidnapped Mindy, and then he ended up in Bab’s sugar bin. She caught him and he granted her one wish.”

  Irma turned to look over her shoulder while she scrubbed. “Seriously?”

  “Strangely, yes.”

  “So it’s safe to go back?”

  “I think so. We haven’t exactly confirmed it yet, but I’m pretty sure we’re good to go.”

  Because the leprechaun had proven so reliable.

  “All right, then. I must admit I’m pretty sick of the company. It will be good to get back to my little
home and hand these two over to Bessie.”

  What Nan would do with them, I had no idea. But it was past time to get back home.

  I walked toward the door, preparing to walk out it, though of course it wouldn’t deliver me anywhere near Gales Haven. The circumstances were just so bizarre that I didn’t know what else to do.

  “You coming?” I asked Irma.

  “Right away. I can take you with me if you want.”

  “Sure. I have no better idea how to get back to my body.”

  Irma led me over to her captives and asked them to link hands. When they didn’t, she did it for them with sharp, snappy movements, mumbling as she went. “You’d think they’d be grateful for all the blessings Gales Haven grants them. But no, Delise, with her Napoleonic complex, has to go and try to ruin it all.”

  Without warning, Irma shoved her hand into Maguire’s and claimed mine with the other.

  In a whirl of green light, the cabin flashed out of sight.

  Only then, I couldn’t see anything. Not a single thing!

  Blinking with mounting desperation into the pitch-black darkness that surrounded me on all sides, clinging to my skin, I cried out.

  From very far away, I heard Quade answer.

  Chapter Seventeen

  With a sickening wave of nausea, I pushed away mounting panic and forced myself to think—a feat none too easy when all I wanted to do was scream my lungs out and then switch to hyperventilating until I miraculously found my way back to my body.

  Of course, a freak-out wasn’t going to get me there. I’d survived enough to realize that sometimes I had to just suck it up and do what needed to be done no matter how I was feeling. I was used to pushing through discomfort to get shit accomplished. This would be no different, right?

  Right.

  I could do this. I especially could since I had no damn choice.

  I could hear Quade calling for me. Now Quade was as chill as they came, but he didn’t sound calm. That must mean my body was still beside his, and it must appear to be an empty shell. No wonder he sounded like he was losing it. His words were a bit garbled, as if he were speaking to me from a great distance, but I picked up the gist of them. He was as desperate for me to return as I was.

  The fact that I could hear him at all was encouraging. Theoretically, my consciousness wasn’t in my body since it was hovering in a void of nothingness. But if I could hear him, it must mean that a part of my consciousness somehow remained with my physical form. And if there was a part of me that still remained there, I could find my way back. It had to be possible.

  I figured when Dottie’s artifact sent me to Irma’s cabin to find what I was looking for, I ran into some serious glitches. From what Irma said, Dottie never used the blade beyond the boundaries of Gales Haven. I assumed the knife sent me so far beyond Gales Haven that it didn’t know how to retrieve me. My consciousness hadn’t exactly been transported to Los Angeles or New York City.

  Irma was a Lamont. She came from a long line of powerful witches who’d been kicking ass since the town’s founding. Her sister would have been one of them too. It was within the realm of possibilities that Irma’s cabin was entirely magical and imaginary. Meaning there was no map that pointed between the cabin and Gales Haven for the blade to follow.

  So how was Dottie’s artifact supposed to return me to Gales Haven if it struggled to find my location in the first place?

  Most likely, my hand still gripped the blade, meaning I was still connected to the artifact’s magic. If its purpose was to locate what I was looking for, then return me, I needed to help it find the path back. Pointing it in the right direction would deliver me to my body.

  I hoped.

  Each artifact was unique. Two objects could complete a similar task, and yet the spells directing their actions might be constructed of vastly different spells. It all depended on their creators and the finesse each person had in crafting them. What I had to do was either assist the blade in completing its purpose or find my own way back to my body.

  I still didn’t know how to do either of those, but at least now I had two ways to go about it. Good. This was better. I sucked in a few deep breaths, ignoring the bizarre sensation of breathing when I had no actual body. Of feeling like I existed beyond my mind when nothing around me supported that fact.

  Living in a town filled with magic users, and being a part of the Gawama family, I’d experienced my fair share of odd and shocking experiences. This outranked all of them. I was going to need shit-tons of therapy after this. Or better yet, I was going to visit Mabel and load up on some serious amounts of Happy Times and act like this never happened.

  Excellent. My plan was fully fleshing out. I’d get out of here, then pretend it never went down, and live on to enjoy another day.

  Also, I was finished waiting for things with Quade to unfold naturally. If now that I was back in town I was going to maybe die or get stuck in limbo on a regular basis, then I was going to live like it really mattered—every single day. I hadn’t really made love to a man since I left town nineteen years ago. Devin didn’t count. As soon as I found the way back to my body, I was making up for lost time.

  Properly motivated with promises of shmexy-ness and Happy Times, I focused on Quade’s voice. The man had been a beacon leading me home since I first met him. Too bad it had taken me this long to identify all the stupid decisions I made to get in my own way.

  Encouraged and distracted from the severity of my predicament, I forced myself to focus and got right to it. I didn’t hinge on the fact that I still didn’t have clarity as to what it was, but whatever. Details, shmetails.

  I had to somehow latch on to my body and pull my consciousness back into it.

  Since I couldn’t feel my body other than a general sense that it existed, I listened for Quade’s voice. His calls to me arrived less now that some time had passed, but I knew he’d never give up on me. No way would he give up on me now. He was probably still right next to my body, where I’d last seen him.

  Or … if he thought he could help me somehow by leaving to do something or fetch someone, he might not be there anymore.

  Crap! I couldn’t see a thing. I had no idea what was really going on.

  Panic rushed in. I shoved it violently away.

  “Quade?” I called out without any idea whether his name carried sound. “Quade?” I spoke again, but it was entirely possible I only formed the word in my imagination.

  “Quade!” I yelled soundlessly, straining my ears to pick up on his response, no matter how faint.

  Nothing. The silence that enveloped me was thick and thin all at once. It weighed on me like a mountain. Swallowing a cry that slipped through without my permission, I called Quade’s name again. When I listened for his response—for anyone’s answer—I again heard nothing, not even the whooshing of my panicked pulse pounding through my head.

  Another wave of nausea rolled through me like it was a tsunami and I was the shore it was about to devastate. A stupid, annoying leprechaun, who stole an artifact when he had little idea of its power, wouldn’t be the end of me. I refused to be lost to limbo forever because a Spanx-wearing punk wanted to cause trouble in my town.

  Hell. No.

  That was not how I rolled. I had to get back to Gales Haven so I could kick his tiny bare ass into the next town over. They could deal with him there.

  Pursing my imaginary lips in determination, I pushed away the fear that reached for me with sticky tentacles, trying to snare me in its net. If I succumbed, I’d never find my way out. I knew it just as I knew I couldn’t delay in finding my way back.

  I had to move now.

  “Quade!” I shouted.

  And this time he answered.

  “Marla? Marla!”

  I clasped on to the sense of his voice and refused to let go.

  “Keep talking to me,” I said, pushing the words through my mind, hoping he somehow heard them. “I need to follow your voice back.”

  The silen
ce that arrived after my plea nearly broke my heart.

  But then I heard him again.

  “Come back to me. I waited for you for too long to lose you now.”

  How would I follow his voice home when I was a disembodied thought form? Without a better idea, I pictured myself in my body, reaching up to embrace him. First I threw that pretty blade so far away it would never bother anyone again, and then I reached up for Quade and kissed those amazing soft lips of his. Leprechaun be damned, I was slipping Quade the tongue, right in front of the pesky little bugger. Suffering through some PDA was the least of the punishments coming his way.

  “I love you, Marla Gawama. Come back to me. Please.”

  Quade’s words speared through whatever space separated us, lodging straight in my heart, making it beat like it was within my body.

  For the first time since Irma zip-tripped away from her cabin and left my consciousness behind, I felt my heart beat within me—and I didn’t think it was imagined.

  “Keep going,” I prompted, hoping for more of what he’d said, feeling like I could drown myself in his love like it was maple glaze. I’d float in it, swim in it buck naked, reveling in all this man and I would share.

  “Your Aunt Jowelle just got here. She’ll guide you back into your body.”

  But even though he said it like it was a done deal, I could sense his concern, his desperate hope. Was there any guarantee Aunt Jowelle could get me back? Probably not. But her abilities did lie with the mental body, and she was as fierce as any Gawama, even if she was tied up in hang-ups of her own.

  “Luanne and Shawna are here too,” Quade said. “We figured it couldn’t hurt to have the trio work on bringing you back.”

  Good. Aunt Luanne rocked the emotional body and Aunt Shawna the spiritual. It’d be great if my mom were here to cover the physical body; then they could definitely bring me back. But I wouldn’t waste energy wishing for something that would never happen. Neorah hadn’t been here to save the day in a very long time.