by Susan Harper
“Oh, hush,” Abigail said. “So, what are you? A witch?”
“I’m not sure,” Holly said.
“Then how do you know she’s a mystic?” Abigail eyed Monica.
“She was able to come through the portal that we put a spell on to keep mortals out. Then a memory charm backfired on her, and Aunt Wilma figured out that the reason all this weird stuff kept happening was because she was part-mystic,” Monica said.
“Part-mystic?” Abigail asked with a dissatisfied look about her. “The unnatural witch would make friends with a mutt, wouldn’t you? Well, as exciting as this is, you woke me up in the middle of the night. So, I’m off to bed.” With that, Abigail hopped down from the table and scurried back to whatever corner she had come from.
“Unnatural witch?” Holly asked.
Monica rolled her eyes. “It means I was born without the use of my magic. I had to learn everything from scratch, unlike my sister who seems to have a surplus of magic flowing through her. I’ll have to give you the rundown on the world of mystics, won’t I? Because you don’t really know anything about mystics at all. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“How about with this?” Holly asked, holding up the giant book Mona had lent them.
“Excellent,” Monica said, and the two women sat down on Monica’s little sofa.
They opened the book. It really was a complete collection. It had every sort of mystic from animals to humanoids, and even plants that only grew on the other side were included in this enormous book. “Pretty sure I’m not part-carnivorous plant,” Holly said as she opened the book to the middle.
“Maybe we should just start at the beginning and work our way through,” Monica suggested. “Oh, this really is a good book. It’s wand-supported.”
“Wand supported?” Holly questioned as Monica pulled out her wand.
“Well, it has all your basic information on each page, but if I tap a page with my wand…” Monica tapped the page ‘fae.’ There was a bit of light coming from the page, and much like the mortal’s version of the internet, a load of additional information seemed to appear before their very eyes. “So if we come across something that seems probable, I can tap the image with my wand and learn more about the creature other than what is included directly on the pages. I do love wand-supported books. I’m surprised Mona let us make off with one. Hope she knows I don’t intend to return this…”
Holly laughed slightly. “This is just all so crazy. I mean… What’s it like? Growing up in a place like Wysteria?”
Monica grinned ear to ear. “Well, it’s quite a different experience from Bankstown, I’ll tell you that much.”
Holly had a lot of questions, and each answer seemed to only lead her to more questions, but Monica didn’t mind. She imagined it was going to be a nice change of pace having Holly to talk to about her life as a witch.
12
Monica awoke early the next morning to find that Holly was still passed out on her sofa. She smiled. Her friend looked exhausted, so she decided to let her sleep for a bit. I should make her some breakfast, she decided and headed into the kitchen. Unlike most witches, Monica was actually somewhat talented in the kitchen without the use of a wand. Growing up, her mother would usually conjure up their meals, but Monica lacked such an ability. She had to actually make her food since conjuring was nearly impossible for unnatural witches.
She decided to make a mortal dish. Holly had already had quite a shock the day before, so Monica wasn’t sure if she was quite ready to be introduced to mystic cuisine. Monica mixed up some pancake batter and threw some bacon in a pan. Soon the smell spread through the house, and as the bacon was really starting to sizzle, Holly sat up on the sofa.
“Morning!” Monica called.
“I’m at your cottage,” Holly said, rubbing her eyes. “Does that mean last night wasn’t a dream? You’re really a witch?”
“Guilty as charged,” Monica said as Abigail made her way into the kitchen, jumping up onto one of the stools in front of the island that acted as both a bar and a stove.
“Mmm… I will give you this: you sure can cook, Monica,” Abigail said. “Conjured food is never as good as something home-cooked.”
“Was that an actual compliment?” Monica asked.
“Don’t get used to it,” Abigail said. “I really just want some of those pancakes.”
Monica shook her head, but she made Abigail a plate as well as one for herself and one for Holly. “I read up on probably twenty different mystics last night,” Holly said. “And I’m pretty sure I’m not any of them.”
“Maybe you should call up your family?” Monica suggested. “I mean, be careful what you say, but maybe feel them out to see if any of them know anything?”
“Oh, um… I was adopted,” Holly said. “My parents wouldn’t know anything about me being part-mystic.”
“Oh!” Monica exclaimed. “I didn’t know that about you.”
“Well, we are pretty new friends. It’s not exactly the first thing I tend to share with people,” Holly said. “But maybe my parents can help me find out about my birth parents? I’ve never really felt the need to ask before, but now I really want to know where I came from. This is all just too strange not to investigate, you know?”
“Absolutely,” Monica said.
The three of them ate their breakfast. They had slept in a bit late, so there was not going to be any flying to the bookshop that day. “You don’t have any other sort of transportation other than your broom?” Holly asked on their way out the door.
“Unfortunately, no,” Monica said. “I’m not very comfortable with driving a mortal vehicle. But I suppose I do need to figure something out.”
“Could you maybe…I don’t know if this is even a thing…but change your broom to look like something? Like a bicycle?” Holly asked, and Monica perked up a bit.
“You know what? Transmuting something is entirely possible,” Monica said. “I bet I could talk to Mona about turning my broom into a shapeshifting object. She’s good with that sort of thing.”
Abigail, who was walking between the two women, grumbled. “Monica is more of a potions expert,” she said.
“That’s really cool,” Holly said. “Wait… You haven’t ever used potions on me before, have you?”
“On you? No, but do you remember Officer Brian’s little Mega Burger incident?” Monica asked.
“Are you kidding? There was a literal murder in town less than two weeks ago, and people are still talking about Brian’s burger-eating victory over that because of that goofy picture of you two hanging up in that burger joint,” Holly laughed.
“Yeah, I accidentally overdosed him on a confidence potion,” Monica said. “It was terrible! Poor Brian was so embarrassed by his behavior…flirting with every woman in sight. Thought he was some super cop. Ate that whole burger just because he was confident that he could. Then he tried to kiss me! It was the craziest thing. Apparently, mortals can’t handle their potions too well, but I didn’t know that. You’re only supposed to do about half the normal dosage for a mortal.”
“Oh no! Poor Brian!” Holly said. “That’s terrible, Monica!”
“It was an accident,” Monica assured her. “I was trying to help him. It was his first time leading up a homicide case, and I wanted him to feel like he could do it.”
Eventually, the two women arrived at the shop, and Officer Brian was standing out front. He grinned. “I was wondering when you were going to get here. Opening up a little late this morning?” he asked.
“We had a girls’ night last night and stayed up late,” Monica said, opening the front door.
“Well, I am a bit early myself, so why don’t I help you two get going?” Brian suggested. They headed inside, and Brian worked to get the barista station up and running.
The place was a bit of a mess. There were books all over the place that they hadn’t gotten a chance to put away with all of the excitement from the evening before. Holly went around pick
ing up books while Monica got Brian his usual. “How is that book you’re writing coming along?” Brian asked.
“Oh, better, I suppose,” Monica said. “The detective in my book has discovered that the original murder suspect couldn’t possibly have done the crime, but they still need to find out the true responsible party. Evidence has suggested that someone was trying to frame the original suspect all along.”
“So, looks like your detective needs to see who would want to go after the original suspect,” Brian said. “If the point of the crime was to frame someone else, then your detective could dig into his past to see who he’s wronged.”
Monica nodded in agreement. “Thanks for the tip, Brian.”
“I want to read it when you’re done,” Brian said with a wink. The cuckoo clock chimed, so he had to head out. He bid them both farewell on the way out the door.
“You’re writing a book?” Holly asked.
Monica sighed. “No, I’m not. But I needed some police-type advice from Brian. My uncle in Wysteria is in a bit of trouble.”
“What happened?” Holly asked.
Before Monica had a chance to explain everything to Holly, the front door opened. Monica smiled to see Isaac making his way into the shop. “Morning, ladies!” he called.
“Hey, Isaac,” Monica said.
He smiled at her, but his attention quickly turned to Holly. “Hey, Holly, I wanted to see if you were all right. You were acting really weird the last time I saw you. Everything good?”
“Um… Yeah, everything’s fine,” Holly said. “I think I just had, um…a really bad head cold, but it’s gone now.”
“Well, you kind of freaked me out,” Isaac said. “You sure everything is okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Holly assured him. “I appreciate you looking out for me though, Isaac.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said.
“You working today, Isaac?” Holly asked, eager to change the subject.
“Yeah, I got a few stories my editor is wanting me to cover around town today. Got an interview this afternoon for an article too. It’s going to be a pretty busy day. Monica, I wanted to see if you wanted me to do a story about your shop sometime? Since it’s changed owners, it would be a good excuse for me to come out and talk to you and get you a little promo in the paper.”
“That would be great, Isaac!” Monica said. “Just let me know when you want to do that, and I’d be happy to!”
“Great,” he said. “How about I stop by this afternoon? I’ll get a picture of you and Holly in the shop. Oh, and your cat. That’s kind of a cool twist—the cat in the bookshop. People like that sort of thing.”
“This afternoon looks good to me!” Monica said.
“Next time you’re feeling sick, Holly, make sure you take care of yourself a little better,” Isaac said. “You really had me worried.”
Holly smiled. “I’ll be more cautious in the future. Sorry I had you so worried.”
Isaac bought himself a coffee before heading out. Once he was gone, Holly’s shoulders seemed to slump a bit. “Everything okay, Holly?” Monica asked.
Holly sighed heavily. “I don’t know. Isaac is my best friend. I don’t know how I feel about keeping such a big secret from him.”
“I understand,” Monica said. “But, let’s be honest, Isaac is the last person who needs to find out about the magical portal in the back of my bookshop. He’s a reporter and a fanatical blogger. If he finds out about any of this, there could be trouble.”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Holly said, shaking her head. “This whole idea of the double life is going to take some getting used to. I’m not even sure what I am. It’s all so strange, you know?”
“Well, I’m here to help you out,” Monica said. “We’ll figure all of this out together, okay?”
Holly smiled. “Thanks, Monica.” Holly glanced around the shop and sighed at all the books lying about. “We still have quite a mess to clean up.”
Monica nodded. “Then we better get started.”
13
“So, let me get this straight,” Holly said as she pulled out some books for their suggested reading section. “Your Aunt Wilma was with a vampire, a real vampire, when you were growing up?”
“That’s right,” Monica said, smirking a bit at how fascinating Holly found just about every minute detail of her life. Abigail seemed a bit more interested in the world around her that day as well. She seemed a bit intrigued by Holly now that she knew the woman was part-mystic. Abigail was bent on discovering Holly’s true nature, and she had propped herself up on the counter in the back of the store with the large book Mona had loaned them.
“A vampire!” Holly cried out again as though she simply could not believe it. “As in a blood-sucking creature of the night?”
Monica laughed. “Yes, a vampire, Holly. After he and my Aunt Wilma split up, they left on fairly good terms, we remained pretty close. My sister and I still call him Uncle Drac.”
“Wait… Drac? As in…Dracula?”
“That’s the one,” Monica said.
“Holy cow!” Holly shrieked. “So, the book you’ve been reading, what is it, like, your uncle’s memoir? Is your uncle really Bram Stoker?”
“Absolutely not!” Monica said quickly. “Ugh, the book is so awful! I’ve been reading it just to see what mortals think of my uncle, and it’s terrible. Stoker was just a bitter mortal who had heard fabricated stories about my uncle and decided to put it in a book. Terrible! No, Uncle Drac wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, maybe a fly…but not a person. He’s an outright gentleman.”
It was nearly lunchtime, and they only just finished picking up the mess left behind in the shop. Evidently, at some point during all of the escapades of Holly’s lunacy, she had pulled countless books from the shelves each moment she was left unattended. Monica was thankful Holly’s memories of the whole ordeal had come back to her so that they could have an explanation for the mess. “Could you possibly be part-nymph?” Abigail asked from the back counter.
Holly came down from the loft reading nook where she had been working to stand near the back counter. “A nymph?”
“Do you have a strong calling to nature, by chance?” Abigail asked. “A spirit-like creature who inhabits woods, rivers, or other geological locations. Does that sound like you at all?”
“I don’t know, Abigail,” Holly said. “I really always thoughts of myself as…well, normal. Just a typical girl. I mean, I like nature… I’m more of a sit inside and read kind of girl, though.”
“Probably not a nymph then,” Abigail said, sighing a bit and turning the page with her nose, with a hint of difficultly.
Monica’s copy of Dracula was sitting on the counter with a bookmark about halfway through it. Holly picked it up, examining it. “So, if it’s just a book bashing your uncle, why are you reading it, exactly?”
“Like I said, I was just curious about it, even if it is a complete fabrication,” Monica said.
“I’d like to meet your uncle sometime,” Holly said.
“Well, maybe once all of the craziness going on right now settles down, you can,” Monica said with a sigh, returning the last of the misplaced books to their proper spots.
“What’s going on right now?”
“Drac was arrested,” Abigail said matter-of-factly.
“For what?” Holly asked, concerned.
Monica came over to the counter. “It’s all a bit insane, really. A few nights ago, Uncle Drac threw a little party at his castle. Just about everyone was there. There was this witch there named Penelope who, let’s just say, was not the most pleasant of guests. Anyway, my uncle was the last person seen with her before her body was found. There were puncture wounds in her neck, and she had been drained of a good bit of blood. The authorities arrested my uncle under suspicion of killing Penelope. But after they had a good look at her at the morgue, they realized the puncture wounds on her neck were probably due to a knife wound or something of the sort
and were not bitemarks. So, now they think someone was trying to frame my uncle, and since my Aunt Wilma is an old girlfriend of his, they’re starting to point their fingers in her direction.”
“That is a lot of craziness,” Holly said. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry your family is having to deal with all of that right now. You’re certain your aunt and uncle get along well, though?”
“They are practically best friends,” Monica said. “So, I know my aunt wouldn’t try to frame Uncle Drac for anything like this, and I know that my uncle wouldn’t hurt anyone. It’s just so strange. I was speaking with his servants at the castle the other day, and they were so incredibly upset! They know him better than just about anyone, and they were balling their eyes out at the thought of my Uncle Drac getting arrested.”
“He’s got servants working at his house?” Holly asked. “The man must be pretty well-to-do.”
“He is a count,” Monica said.
“In the book, he lives alone except for his three vampire wives,” Holly said with a smirk.
“Ugh! Those vampire women are not his wives!” Monica exclaimed. “Terrible! I mean, honestly! Stoker ought to be ashamed of himself for making up such awful stories about such a nice vampire. Those women and Renfield are hired help who get along wonderfully with my uncle. They’re not some—”
“Renfield?” Holly asked. “Like the lunatic in the book?”
Monica stared blankly at Holly. “Lunatic?”
“You’re the one reading it,” Holly said. “Is your Renfield the same as the character in Stoker’s novel?”
“I…I honestly hadn’t even noticed,” Monica said. “Renfield is the character who lives in the asylum? The one who keeps eating bugs and other small creatures?”
“That’s the one,” Holly said. “Is the Renfield in the book supposed to be the same person?”
“Interesting,” Abigail said, turning her nose away from the book she’d been reading. “You know, Renfield has been working for Dracula for as long as I can remember. Maybe he was around back when Stoker was gathering research for his novel?”