Spellbinding Starters

by Annabel Chase

  “Why are we going in here?” I asked.

  “Patience is a virtue,” he said, and opened the door. The thin man behind the desk gave us a curious look as we stepped inside.

  “Good morning, Daniel,” the man said, somewhat surprised. His ears were pointier than Captain Spock’s. I resisted the urge to stare and focused on the painting behind him instead. It depicted five werewolves smoking cigars and playing poker.

  Werewolves?

  “Stan,” Daniel greeted him gruffly. “We have a situation.”

  “I’m a situation?” I asked.

  “You don’t happen to have an Emma Hart on your list, do you?” Daniel asked.

  Stan shook his head. “Can’t say that I do. Is this the young lady in question?”

  “I am,” I said, still confused. “Why can’t I cross the border and get back to my car?” Or what was left of my car, once I had it fished out of the lake.

  Stan’s thin brow lifted. “I see.” He scrutinized me. “You’re human, you say?”

  “I do say.” Although not very often. I didn’t usually need to specify my species.

  Stan and Daniel exchanged meaningful glances.

  “How did she get here?” Stan asked.

  Daniel relayed the story, gallantly leaving out the part where I held my nose. “So what do we do?” he asked.

  “This is rather unprecedented,” Stan said, swallowing hard. “I suppose we ought to call on Mayor Knightsbridge.”

  Daniel groaned. “I’m not dealing with that battle axe. She’ll spend ninety percent of the conversation blaming me.”

  Stan looked down his nose at the angel. “It was her daughter, Daniel. Can you blame the woman?”

  Daniel muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He was proving a bit testy for an angel.

  “If it’s a problem, I’ll go see the mayor on my own,” I said. I wasn’t intimidated by authority. I’d lost count of the number of times I stood and argued before a judge I didn’t respect.

  “Oh no,” Stan protested. “I wouldn’t advise that. Felicity Knightsbridge is not to be trifled with.”

  “She’s difficult at the best of times,” Daniel added.

  “I don’t want to trifle with her,” I said, whatever that meant. “I just want to get my car out of the lake and get home. I need to call my client. She’s going to wonder what happened to me.”

  “Your client?” Stan queried.

  “I’m a lawyer,” I said. “I was on my way to see a client when I got lost and passed by the lake.” I shot Daniel a disapproving look. “You know the rest.”

  “A lawyer, eh?” Stan said.

  “No lawyer jokes,” I said, waving my hands. “Especially none that involve lawyers at the bottom of a lake.” It hit too close to home at the moment.

  “No, no,” Stan said. “I wasn’t going to make a joke. I was simply…”

  Daniel cut him off. “I don’t think Emma needs to hear about the dark underbelly of Spellbound.”

  Stan shrugged. “She might, if she’s going to live here.”

  “Live here?” I blurted. “I have no intention of staying here another hour.”

  “Come on,” Daniel said, and edged toward the door. “Let’s go see Mayor Knightsbridge.”

  As we walked down the cobblestone, I noticed the sign for the town council building. “Isn’t that where we’re going?”

  Daniel laughed. “No, the mayor prefers to work out of her home. It’s called the Mayor’s Mansion.”

  The Mayor’s Mansion was not an exaggeration.

  The stone building loomed at the top of a hill. The style was more gothic than administrative.

  “Why does she work from here?” I asked.

  “Because she can,” Daniel replied flatly.

  We trudged up the massive stone steps and were greeted by two guards that reminded me of the Beefeaters in front of Buckingham Palace. Their hats were black and adorned with green plumes.

  “What’s with all the pomp and circumstance?” I asked.

  “That’s fairies for you,” he grumbled.

  Fairies. Wow. I needed a drink.

  The foyer was even grander than the outside. Large portraits and tapestries covered every available inch of wall space. It was like stepping into a functional medieval castle.

  A young woman fluttered toward us. I say fluttered because she didn’t walk. She sported small pink wings that lifted her off the floor intermittently.

  “Mr. Starr,” she said, showing off her dimpled cheeks.

  “Hello, Lucy,” he said. “Is the mayor available? It’s rather an emergency.”

  Lucy looked me up and down, her expression revealing nothing. “She’s incredibly busy with the murder and all—everyone’s very upset—but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “The murder?” I asked, after Lucy retreated to the mayor’s office.

  “Nothing to worry about. Spellbound has a crime rate like anywhere else.”

  Lucy whizzed back in a hurry. “She can squeeze you in now.”

  “Most appreciated,” Daniel said, tucking his wings away. They were like bifold doors on his back but prettier.

  We followed Lucy down a long corridor to a room at the back of the mansion. The mayor’s office was enormous. Three out of four walls were lined with books. The fourth wall was made entirely of glass and overlooked the backyard. An oversized desk sat in front of the glass wall.

  Mayor Knightsbridge glanced up when we entered and quickly closed the file she was reviewing.

  “Thank you, Lucy,” she said, her lips forming a thin line. She did not seem happy to see Daniel.

  “Mayor Knightsbridge, thank you for seeing us on short notice.”

  The mayor looked from Daniel to me. “Us, is it? How interesting. Seems like only yesterday you were courting my daughter.”

  “It was decades ago,” he mumbled.

  I waved my hands. “There’s no us, Madam Mayor. He just means…”

  The mayor snapped her fingers and my mouth clamped shut. I tried to speak but couldn’t seem to force my lips apart.

  “I did not address you,” Mayor Knightsbridge said haughtily. She returned her focus to Daniel. “Who is this and why is she in Spellbound?”

  He told the story again. “She thinks she’s a human,” he added. “But she can’t be, right? I mean, she’d be able to leave.”

  “Indeed.” She came out from behind her desk and stood directly in front of me. She was about four inches shorter than me with blond hair swept up in a French twist. Her blue wings were larger than Lucy’s but not as large as Daniel’s.

  “What is your name?” She snapped her fingers again and my lips broke apart.

  “Emma Hart,” I said. “I’m a lawyer from Lemon Grove, Pennsylvania.”

  “Who are your parents?” she asked. Even at close range, her skin was flawless. No fair.

  “I was raised by my father’s parents,” I said. “Byron and Nancy Hart. My mom died when I was three and my father died when I was seven.”

  “And your mother’s parents?” she asked, peering at me.

  “I don’t know. I never met them. They died before I was born.” Revealing such personal information to strangers made me feel extremely vulnerable, not to mention uncomfortable. It wasn’t a subject I discussed with anyone, even boyfriends. Not that there’d been any of those in quite some time.

  “What was your mother’s name?” the mayor asked.

  “Geri White.”

  “Short for Gertrude?”

  My eyes widened. “How did you know?” People generally assumed her full name was Geraldine.

  Mayor Knightsbridge ignored my question. “Take her to the coven for confirmation.”

  Daniel cleared his throat. “The coven? Really?”

  The mayor nodded crisply. “I believe so.”

  I opened my mouth but no sound came out. This time it wasn’t due to the mayor’s magical snaps.

  “Excuse me, Mayor?”

  “Yes, M
r. Starr?”

  “Is there no one in your office who can escort her?” Daniel asked. “I have a busy day.”

  “Yes, a busy day of moping, I’m sure,” the mayor said. “I’m afraid there’s no one available. My office is preoccupied with Gareth’s murder at the moment. You created this mess. Miss Hart is your responsibility until the council convenes to discuss the matter.”

  I snuck a peek at Daniel out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t seem happy about being appointed my guardian. Not that I blamed him. I wasn’t happy about having a guardian appointed for me.

  “What time will the council meet?” he asked.

  She gave him a sharp look and he turned on his heel and marched me out of the office.

  “Are we really going to a coven?” I asked, hurrying to catch up as he left the mansion in an angelic fury.

  “Not a coven,” he said. “The coven.”

  Well, that explained it then.

  We flew this time.

  Daniel carried me in his arms like I’d watched Superman carry Lois Lane countless times, except Daniel didn’t wear a unitard. Small favors.

  This time I forced my eyes to stay open so I could watch the town pass beneath our feet. No easy feat for someone with my anxiety issues. It was, for lack of a better word, magical. I saw the church spire on a distant hill and the clock tower in the town square. The town was bustling with people, or creatures that looked remarkably like people, and the buildings seemed to stretch beyond the horizon.

  I still felt the need to pinch myself. Today I’d met an angel, two fairies, and what I was fairly certain was an elf. And now I was about to meet a coven of witches. It was an amazingly lucid dream and I was sure I’d awaken at any moment. Never again would I eat the entire bag of Doritos before bed.

  We landed in front of an apothecary shop.

  “The coven is here?” I queried.

  “The members we want to see are.”

  It wasn’t what I expected, not that I had any clue what a real coven was like.

  We entered the shop and Daniel greeted two teen girls behind the counter. They both batted their eyelashes at him like they’d never seen a member of the opposite sex before.

  “They’re witches?” I whispered.

  “Yes, two of the younger ones. They were born here.” Something in his tone suggested that being born here was different from moving here.

  “I need to see Ginger,” he said.

  “This way, Mr. Starr,” the smaller of the two girls said. She brought us behind the counter and pushed aside a set of heavy velvet drapes.

  “Someone will meet you on the other side,” the girl said, giggling as she scurried back to the counter.

  Daniel pulled on a thick rope that hung beside the large wooden door. The door opened by itself and I followed Daniel inside. There was no one in the foyer to greet us.

  “Where do we go?” I asked.

  A voice interrupted us before he could reply.

  “Well, well. What could possibly be important enough to bring Mr. Starr into the belly of the beast?” A woman stepped out of the shadows. Her red hair was pulled back tightly in a high ponytail and she had a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Instead of the long, black cloak I expected her to wear, she sported yoga pants and a half top with the words ‘Girl Power’ spelled out in glitter.

  “Good morning, Ginger,” he said tersely.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “I don’t recognize this one. Where’d you pick her up?”

  “Mayor Knightsbridge thinks she’s one of yours. She asked me to bring her to you.”

  I choked back laughter. “One of theirs? Are you serious? I’m not a witch.”

  Ginger stared at me with renewed interest. “A new witch in Spellbound? How?”

  Daniel grimaced. “She accidentally crossed the border and then couldn’t get out.”

  Ginger’s smile broadened. “Fascinating.” She circled me, drinking in every detail of my appearance.

  “I’m twenty-five years old,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I’d know by now if I was a witch.”

  “Not necessarily,” Ginger said. “What’s your name, honey?”

  “Emma Hart.”

  She looped her arm through mine. “Emma Hart, you are going to have the best time here.”

  I looked to Daniel for help, but he only shrugged.

  “Is there some sort of test that I take?” I asked. “I mean, what happens if I’m not a witch. What else could I be?”

  Ginger ticked off the options on her fingers. “Succubus, fairy, elf, siren, dwarf, Valkyrie, banshee.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, a bunch more, but it doesn’t matter. I’d bet a cauldron of newt eyes that you’re one of us.”

  “What makes you say that?” I asked.

  “Because Daniel found you,” she said, and winked at him. “He’s always been drawn to witches. Haven’t you, Halo Boy?”

  “Never mind my life story, Ginger,” he said.

  Ginger placed a proprietary arm around my shoulder. “We’ll take it from here, honey. Thanks for dropping her off.”

  “But my car is still at the bottom of the lake,” I said. “And my phone and my purse…I need to call my client.”

  Ginger gave me a sad smile. “We might be able to salvage your car, but I’m afraid the phone call is impossible.”

  Damn.

  “We need to decide how to handle her,” Ginger continued. “Her arrival is unprecedented.”

  “The council will decide,” Daniel said. “The mayor has already called an emergency meeting.”

  “Good to know,” Ginger replied.

  “You’ll be fine, Emma,” Daniel said, with a trace of uncertainty.

  “Thank you for your help today,” I said. Sort of.

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I didn’t know this would happen.”

  “It’s okay,” I told him. “You said the boundary is in the middle of the lake and I was already there. You just saved me from getting squashed by Sigmund.”

  “Sigmund?” he queried.

  “My car. That’s his name.”

  “She named her car,” Ginger said with a cackle. “Oh, she’s definitely one of us. Come along, honey. I’ll introduce you to some of the girls.”

  Ginger brought me to a room upstairs where a dozen women were partway through an exercise class. If they thought I could lift my leg as high as what I’d just witnessed, they’d be sadly mistaken. I couldn’t possibly be one of them.

  “Everyone, we have a special guest. This is Emma Hart,” Ginger said.

  The music stopped abruptly and the entire room turned to stare at me. It was like junior high school all over again.

  “Hello,” I said weakly.

  “Her socks don’t match,” I heard someone whisper.

  Yep. Just like junior high.

  A tall, redheaded woman in the center of the room strode toward me. She looked like Ginger, only slightly older but with the same killer body. She lifted her shirt to wipe a few droplets of sweat from her brow and I saw a flash of perfect abs. So much for warts and green skin.

  “How is this possible?” the woman asked.

  “Long story,” Ginger said.

  “How did she find us?”

  “Daniel brought me,” I said.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed at me. “Daniel Starr?”

  Ginger laid a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Relax, Meg. He didn’t hang around.”

  “He’s lucky I don’t have my wand on me,” Meg grumbled.

  “So what else does the coven do besides exercise?” I asked, hoping to distract Meg from Daniel’s existence. She seemed to be as annoyed with him as Mayor Knightsbridge.

  “Let’s wait until we’re sure you’re one of us before we reveal our secrets,” Meg said, eyeing me carefully.

  “We need to babysit her until the council meeting,” Ginger said. “Mayor’s orders.”

  “The council is already freaking out about Gareth,” Meg said. “This i
s going to tip them over the edge.”

  “The mayor mentioned Gareth was murdered,” I said. “Who was he?”

  “Spellbound’s public defender,” Meg said. “A pillar of the community.”

  “A fabulous guy,” Ginger added. “He will be sorely missed.”

  The rest of the room murmured in agreement.

  “Are murders typical around here?” I asked.

  They exchanged looks. “They happen from time to time,” Ginger said. “We’re a community of supernaturals. When tempers flare, it’s immediately dangerous.”

  My stomach twisted. I was stuck in a town with dangerous supernatural creatures where a road rage incident could turn deadly on a dime? Hang on, that sounded eerily like the human world.

  Ginger studied me. “Are you hungry, honey? Why don’t we take you for something to eat while we wait for Mayor Knightsbridge to take the wand out of her butt and convene the council.”

  “Ginger,” Meg scolded her. “Felicity is the mayor. You can’t talk about her like that.” She lowered her voice. “At least not in front of the new girl. Take her to Perky’s.”

  “No,” Ginger said. “Let’s go to Brew-Ha-Ha. They have more interesting shots.”

  “Shots?” I echoed.

  “Don’t worry,” Ginger said. “We’re not talking about alcohol. These are magical shots. For your latte.”

  More wonderful words had never been spoken. “That sounds amazing.”

  “Care to join us, big sister?” Ginger asked Meg.

  “I’ll finish up the class,” Meg said. “One of us needs to keep the weight off our bums.” Meg twirled her finger in the air, a sign for the music to continue.

  Ginger and I walked around the block to a coffee shop on the corner of the town square. It was a charming space with antique wooden tables and well-worn leather chairs.

  “Fabulous,” Ginger said. “Henrik is working today. He’s the fastest barista there is.”

  I glanced behind the counter to see a middle-aged man with spiky hair and a face that suggested a fully lived life. “He’s fast?” He looked like he’d rather be swinging in a hammock with a guitar and a bottle of beer.

  Ginger wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Watch.” She stepped up to the counter. “Morning, Henrik.”