Witchin' Around the Clock

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Did you know what it was?”

  “Kind of. I mean ... I knew something exploded, if that makes any sense. We took cover, and when we were sure it was over Thistle and I ran out. We were looking for Aunt Tillie, not trouble, if that makes you feel any better.”

  “Aunt Tillie is trouble.”

  “Fair enough. She’s still my aunt. I had to find her.”

  “And I can’t argue with your instincts on that, but she wasn’t in a burning building.”

  “No.” I thought about the moments before I managed to break the window. “Something else happened.” I related the tale to him as best I could, keeping my voice low and even because I didn’t want him to melt down. When I finished, he was perplexed.

  “What do you think it was?”

  I’d been giving that a lot of thought. “I think it was the dead.”

  He shifted. “Like ... ghosts?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it was voices from the other side. I shouldn’t have been able to throw that hammer the way I did. I was feeling weak.”

  “Maybe your body responded out of desperation and you simply didn’t realize how much force you were putting into the effort.”

  “That doesn’t explain the voices.”

  “I guess not.” He tightened his arms around me. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  “You’re being fairly reasonable about this,” I noted. “I expected you to scream, stomp and yell.”

  “That rarely goes over well.”

  “That doesn’t stop you from doing it.”

  “I figure your mother will go after you — and Chief Terry once he’s had a bit of breathing room and gets over his terror — so there’s no need for me to be the bad guy when they’re willing to take up the mantle.”

  “Smart.”

  “I thought so.”

  We lapsed into silence for a moment. I was the first to break it.

  “Whoever killed Adam set the fire to cover it up, right?”

  “That would be my guess. It seems like too much of a coincidence to be anything else.”

  “So, we have a murderer in town who just happens to be a firebug on the side. That can’t be good.”

  “Nope. I’m worried, too.”

  At least we could agree about that.

  I OPTED FOR COMFORTABLE JEANS and a T-shirt for dinner. Now that I was several hours removed from the situation, I felt like a bit of a dolt. Running into the building was definitely stupid. I had no doubt I would get an earful from the rest of my relatives ... and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  “We could skip dinner tonight,” I offered helpfully once we reached the back door. “I’ll buy and everything.”

  Landon’s expression reflected amusement. “I believe your mother said it was Mexican night. I can’t miss out on tacos.”

  He was messing with me and we both knew it. “You just want to watch her yell.”

  “Maybe a little.” He put his hand to the small of my back and prodded me toward the door. “The faster you get it over with, the faster they’ll go back to obsessing about this witch gathering and Clove’s wedding. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this manic about a group of guests before.”

  I had, in years past. “This is a big deal.” I stepped into the family living quarters when he opened the door for me, pulling up short when I heard snorting. It didn’t take long for Peg, Aunt Tillie’s new pig, to come running for attention. The spotted swine was ridiculously cute, if impractical. Today she was wearing a pink tutu that made her look like a farm animal fairy.

  “Look at you!” Landon was delighted as he forgot all about me and raced toward Peg. “Who dressed you up?”

  “It wasn’t me,” Aunt Tillie said darkly from the couch. She was in her usual spot watching Jeopardy. “There’s no way I would’ve purchased that monstrosity.”

  Given how Aunt Tillie dressed, the fact that she could cast aspersions on anybody’s clothing choices was mildly amusing. Still, she looked relatively morose, so I asked the obvious question. “Did Twila buy this for her?”

  “Actually, it was your mother.”

  I was beyond surprised. “My mother bought Peg a tutu?” That was hard to wrap my head around. “Why?”

  “You’ll have to ask her. I’ve been warned if I remove the tutu that my still will go up in flames. She sounded serious.”

  I smirked. “You can’t be surprised.”

  “I didn’t say I was surprised,” Aunt Tillie growled. “I just can’t stand it. They’re witches, not celebrities. They mount brooms the same way we do: one leg at a time.”

  “Who’s a pretty girl?” Landon enthused. He’d moved to the floor and was rolling around with Peg, who greeted him with excited kisses and snorts. I was starting to realize that Landon desperately needed a pet. He’d mentioned a dog recently, and I was considering asking my mother if she would allow us to adopt one and keep it in the guesthouse. It probably wasn’t a good day to broach the subject.

  Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes at Landon’s antics. “For the record, I don’t think this gathering is a good idea. You know how I feel about those women.”

  Landon reluctantly dragged his attention from Peg and focused on Aunt Tillie. “What’s wrong with the women who are coming? I thought you were familiar with all of them.”

  “That doesn’t mean I like them,” Aunt Tillie sneered.

  “Aunt Tillie is proud of being a witch — and she wants all of us to be badass witches — but she’s not particularly fond of other witches,” I explained. “She’s jealous when others have magic at their disposal.”

  Aunt Tillie’s glare was withering. “I’m not jealous. Why would you even say that? It’s absolutely ridiculous.”

  Amusement flitted across Landon’s handsome features. “Tell me more.”

  “Don’t tell him anything.” Aunt Tillie jabbed a finger in my direction. “It has nothing to do with you. You don’t need to stick your long law enforcement nose into this. Just ... stay out of it.”

  Landon’s eyes lit with exaggerated merriment. “Oh, something tells me I’m missing part of the story. What’s going on? I want to know what to expect.”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but Aunt Tillie quashed the urge before I could utter a single word.

  “Why do you even care?” she challenged. “No, I seriously want to know. This gathering has nothing to do with you.”

  Landon wasn’t about to be dissuaded. “That’s not true.” He used his “practical” tone, which often drove me crazy. I had a feeling that was his aim with Aunt Tillie. “Bay is my girlfriend. She’s a witch. These other witches are coming to town for some ritual. I’m obviously curious about what this entails.”

  “It’s a solstice celebration,” I explained. “It basically involves a blessing, a lot of alcohol and a bit of naked dancing.”

  “Oh, good,” Landon said dryly. “I don’t see nearly enough naked dancing.”

  Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. “Such a pervert.”

  While stroking Peg’s head, Landon looked back at me. “Give me the rundown on these witches. I don’t need the nitty-gritty, but I want to know why Aunt Tillie has her nose out of joint. If there’s going to be a problem, I want to be prepared.”

  “There won’t be a problem,” Aunt Tillie insisted. “I have everything under control.”

  Those were empty words, but Aunt Tillie would never admit it. “Most of the witches are fine,” I volunteered. “They’re earth witches who spend all their time cooking and gardening.”

  “Like your mother and aunts.”

  I nodded. “When it comes to coven work, very few witches are as powerful as us,” I continued. “We’re something of anomalies in the paranormal world. That means we’re often revered ... and sometimes feared. The only witch who does neither is Hazel Weller.”

  “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.” Landon rubbed his hands together before grabbing Peg around the waist and transporting her to his lap. The pig was in absolute ecstasy as he pette
d her. “Who is Hazel Weller?”

  “She’s a nobody,” Aunt Tillie automatically responded. “If there was a witch hierarchy — which there’s not — she would be on the last rung. She’s a bottom feeder.”

  “Tell me how you really feel.”

  “I just did.”

  Landon stared at Aunt Tillie for a long beat before switching his gaze to me. “What’s the deal with Hazel Weller?”

  “She’s stronger than the other witches,” I explained. “She’s not an earth witch. In fact, she’s a fire witch, which makes her stronger than us.”

  Landon didn’t look convinced. “I don’t believe that’s possible. You guys are the strongest.”

  “See.” Aunt Tillie preened. “He’s smarter than he looks, and we’ve trained him well.”

  “Perhaps ‘stronger’ wasn’t the correct word,” I hedged, shrinking under the weight of Aunt Tillie’s glare. “Fire witches are rare, especially in this area. We get more earth witches and air witches in these parts.”

  “Which are you?” Landon looked genuinely curious. “I thought you were a necromancer.”

  “I am. That’s an entirely different thing. It doesn’t play into my elemental magic.”

  Landon dragged a hand through his dark hair, confusion evident. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  I couldn’t blame him. When it came to magic, I’d fallen down on the job explaining things to him.

  “Necromancy isn’t an elemental power,” I started. “I’m mostly an air witch with a touch of water and fire.”

  “You just said fire witches were rare.”

  “True fire witches are very rare. Hazel is a fire witch and nothing else. It’s ... odd.”

  “It’s evil,” Aunt Tillie corrected, stirring. “Every witch who has ever gone evil has been a fire witch. It’s like being a Slytherin.”

  Landon’s lips quirked. “I see.”

  “That’s not true,” I protested, pinning Aunt Tillie with a quelling look. “Don’t tell him that. I don’t want him to fear fire witches. We have some fire in our lineage.”

  “I will never be frightened of you,” Landon promised. “Frightened for you is a different story, but we’ve decided to table that discussion for the remainder of the evening. I want to know more about this specific fire witch.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her,” I offered hurriedly. The last thing I wanted was Aunt Tillie riling up Landon. He rarely fell for her shtick, but there were times he lost his head and embraced whatever conspiracy theory she was floating for the week. Now was not a good time for that to happen. “She’s a perfectly nice woman ... who has a tendency to mouth off, talk down to Aunt Tillie and try to compete with her on every front.”

  “Oh, wow.” Landon’s eyes lit with genuine mirth. “You’re saying she’s another version of Aunt Tillie.”

  “You take that back!” Aunt Tillie poked a threatening finger into his chest. “I am nothing like that woman.”

  “They’re fairly similar,” I acknowledged, taking an inadvertent step back when Aunt Tillie trained her furious gaze on me. “Aunt Tillie is way better, though.”

  Landon snickered. “I have no doubt. I don’t understand why you stopped having these gatherings if they were such a big deal. I mean ... if they’re so important, why cease having them?”

  I risked a glance at Aunt Tillie and found her watching me with an expectant gaze.

  “Well, tell him,” she prodded after a beat. “Blame it on me, like your mother does.”

  “I have no intention of running into a burning building twice in one day,” I countered. “I don’t blame you for what happened. In truth, I was happy when the gatherings stopped. Mom, Marnie and Twila used to go crazy when it came to planning. It was a relief when things came to an end.”

  “I need more information than that,” Landon pressed. “What happened?”

  “There was an incident,” I offered, choosing my words carefully.

  “Oh, let me tell it.” Aunt Tillie made a face. “You’ll do it wrong.”

  Landon remained where he was on the floor, Peg curled into a ball on his lap and snoring lightly. She was all tuckered out after the initial excitement.

  “Hazel wanted to institute a coven council,” Aunt Tillie started. “She thought it was best to have a panel of witches who could dole out punishment for certain individuals if they stepped out of line.”

  “And she didn’t want you on the council.”

  “I didn’t want to be on the council,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “There’s nothing worse than telling others how they should act. I mean ... nothing.”

  “I would argue that it’s worse to be on the receiving end of other people’s orders, but this is probably a bad time to argue about the merits of that,” I offered.

  Landon met my gaze. “I definitely wouldn’t go that route this evening. You’ll tick me off if you even try.”

  “See, he would be good on a coven council,” Aunt Tillie drawled. “He loves bossing people around.”

  “No, I love keeping people safe,” Landon countered. “That’s neither here nor there, though. I want to hear more about the witch council.”

  “You really don’t,” I said. “The story isn’t as entertaining as you envision. Hazel wanted to institute a council. She had a lot of people who agreed with her and was well on her way to setting up elections — where she would be the head witch, mind you, by design — when Aunt Tillie instigated something of an uprising.”

  Landon’s shoulders straightened. “Oh, now we’re getting to the meat of the story. What did you do to Hazel?”

  “I didn’t do anything to her,” Aunt Tillie sniffed, averting her gaze. “I simply made the others aware that she would be an absolute tyrant if we gave her any real power. It’s not just the big things Hazel wanted to control. It was the small things, too.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like what spells could be cast and when,” I volunteered. “She wanted to make everyone in the coven request permission before using their magic. That information was hidden deep in the bylaws she’d been working on, almost as if she was trying to hide her true intentions.”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned on Landon’s face. “She wanted to take away your autonomy.”

  “Exactly.” Fury sparked in Aunt Tillie’s eyes. “She wanted to be the one to say who we helped ... and when we helped ... and how we helped. I’m not living in a world ruled by anyone other than me.”

  “Why didn’t you run against her?” Landon asked. “I mean ... it seems to me the best way to ensure that she couldn’t institute her plans was to make sure she had no real power.”

  “I don’t want to be in charge,” Aunt Tillie replied sharply. “I know you believe the opposite, but I’m a big fan of free will.”

  “The coven sort of fell apart when all the sides started fighting,” I said. “This will be the first time everybody has been together in more than a decade. I wouldn’t be surprised if the council is brought up again.”

  “And I’ll be right there to squash it again,” Aunt Tillie promised.

  Landon’s smirk couldn’t be contained. “Is it wrong that I’m looking forward to the drama? It’s nice when the fighting doesn’t revolve around us for a change, isn’t it, Bay?”

  I wasn’t exactly on the same page, but he wasn’t altogether wrong. “It will be interesting,” I agreed. “I’m a little curious to see how things go myself.”

  Five

  Dinner went exactly as I’d expected. It was two hours of recrimination and threats from my mother and aunts. Thistle wisely opted to stay home, so I took the brunt of the admonishment, to the point I felt wrung out by the time we left.

  Landon, full of tacos, nachos and flan, was in a great mood when we tumbled into bed. He’d managed to avoid being the bad guy and yet I was still verbally flogged to within an inch of my life. He was still smiling when we returned to the inn for breakfast the next morning.

  “We need to buy groceries so we c
an eat at home occasionally,” I complained as we walked into the inn. We’d parked at the front so we could head to town once the meal was finished, so at least I didn’t have to risk running into Aunt Tillie before I had a dose of coffee in me.

  “Why would we want to do that?” Landon asked. “We have the best breakfast in town within walking distance.”

  “You’re just saying that because you can smell the bacon from here.”

  “Like I said, it’s the best breakfast in town.” He kissed my cheek before picking up his pace. He could detect bacon from a hundred feet away. Despite his love for Peg, there was no way he was giving up the crispy goodness that was his favorite food.

  Chief Terry was already seated at the table drinking coffee when we arrived. He slid his gaze to us and I was disappointed to see annoyance lurking in the depths of his normally kind eyes.

  “How long are you going to punish me?” I lamented as I slipped into my regular spot, which happened to be located on his left. “I said I was sorry.”

  “You’re only sorry because you got yelled at,” he replied as Landon grabbed the coffee carafe from the center of the table and started pouring. “You don’t believe you did anything wrong.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. “What I did was moronic,” I countered. “But I had to check. I couldn’t stop myself.”

  “And that’s why I’m still angry.” Chief Terry turned his attention to Landon. “There’s a state fire inspector on the scene. He’s expecting us in an hour. I figured you would want to be part of this even though we have no reason to believe this was anything other than a lone targeted attack … at least right now.”

  “I don’t have anything pressing otherwise, so you figured right,” Landon said. “Besides, we don’t know that it won’t happen again. If this was about the fire instead of a specific victim, things could go badly. We need to make sure that we don’t have an arsonist on the loose.”