Spellbinding Starters

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Spellbinding Starters Page 85

by Annabel Chase


  As I walked away from the grand funeral home, I heard the gentle sound of wings flapping behind me. I turned around to see Lucy in mid-air.

  "Miss Hart," she exclaimed. "What a lovely surprise to run into you. How are you getting on?"

  "Hi Lucy," I said. “Very busy between lessons and Mumford’s case, but otherwise okay.”

  Lucy gave me a sly smile. "I understand you’ve been doing a little investigating on your own. It seems to have ruffled more than a few feathers."

  Did she mean actual feathers or metaphorical feathers? In this town, I wasn't too sure.

  I feigned innocence. “Oh? Am I causing any problems?"

  "Not as far as I'm concerned," she said. "We need more community-minded residents in Spellbound. Sometimes we seem to forget that the entire reason we’re trapped here is because we mistreated someone. It's important that we strive to do better and look out for one another."

  I smiled at Lucy. I expected fairies to be sweet, and it was nice to know this one actually was. I wasn't so sure about Mayor Knightsbridge. Even though she was the mayor, she struck me as serious and inflexible.

  "I understand the trial is coming up,” Lucy said. “Do you think you'll be ready?"

  “I sure hope so," I said. "I don't want my first case to result in jail time for my client. I already feel like I've started off on the wrong foot here."

  "Not with everyone," Lucy said vaguely. Although her expression suggested she had more to say on the matter, she didn’t elaborate. “How’s your progress with witch training?”

  I pulled my Tiffany blue wand from my bag and she squealed with delight.

  “That is stunning.” Lucy zipped down beside me to admire the wand more closely. “I swear witch wands are so much nicer than fairy wands.”

  “But yours has glitter,” I pointed out.

  “Yours is so sophisticated.” Lucy stared glumly at her own wand. “Mine is made for a child.”

  I hadn’t looked in the fairy section of Wands-A-Plenty. “Can’t you ask Alaric for a better selection?”

  “To be honest, it never occurred to me. Fairy wands have always been different from witch wands.” She flashed a bright smile. “That’s a great idea, though. See? You’re making a difference already, Emma. Sometimes an outsider’s perspective is just what a place needs.”

  I was glad Lucy thought so, but I had the sense not everyone in Spellbound would agree.

  “Let me know when you’re ready to go shopping again,” Lucy said. “I’d love to take you.”

  “Thanks.” I hesitated. “By the way, any chance you know someone interested in adopting a cat?”

  She looked at me askance. “If you’re talking about Gareth’s four-legged monstrosity, the answer is no. You can always take it to Paws and Claws. At least there are other animals there for the cat to interact with.”

  Magpie’s idea of interacting with other animals probably included a lot of hissing and an unhealthy dose of urination.

  “Thanks, I’ll think about it.” I wouldn’t feel right about bringing Magpie to the rescue center. Gareth’s house was his home, whether I liked it or not. We’d simply have to find a way to co-exist.

  “Where are you off to now?” Lucy asked.

  “Gareth’s house,” I said. “To feed the four-legged monstrosity.”

  “It’s your house now, silly,” she said.

  Maybe so, but it didn’t feel like mine. Not in its current state anyway. I thought about the blue and yellow pot I’d placed on the windowsill. Right now it was the only reflection of me in the house. That would have to change soon…but not until Gareth’s killer was brought to justice. There was a part of me that felt I needed to earn what I’d been given here. If I was honest with myself, it was the real reason I couldn’t stop investigating Gareth’s murder, despite the sheriff’s warnings. If I successfully defended Mumford and helped to solve Gareth’s murder, then, and only then, would I feel like I’d earned the right to enjoy the fruits of Gareth’s labors.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After another restless night and another morning spent memorizing every detail in Mumford’s file, I wasn’t looking forward to Beginner Spell Casting. It was hard to focus your will when your will was half asleep.

  “We’ll have to take you to the Beauty Bar one of these days,” Begonia said, when I sat down beside her.

  “If I weren’t so tired, I’d feel insulted,” I replied.

  “My facialist has amazing tricks for dark circles under the eyes,” she said.

  “I think sleep is the amazing trick I’m looking for,” I said.

  “You’re trying too hard to do everything,” Sophie interjected. “You need to relax a little.”

  “If I don’t do my job properly, Mumford is the one who will pay the price for it, not me.”

  I didn’t want to burden them with my insomnia issues. Unfortunately, my sleep problems predated my new life in Spellbound.

  Lady Weatherby appeared at the front of the class in her usual intimidating fashion. “Good afternoon, witches. I’d intended to review the four basic spells again, but I think a departure is in order. Sometimes it’s useful to wander off the beaten path in order to regain one’s perspective.”

  Had she and Lucy been comparing notes? It seemed unlikely that the two of them would be friends. Then again, Lucy absolutely adored Mayor Knightsbridge, so anything was possible.

  Lady Weatherby’s lips stretched into her version of a smile. “Today might be a good day to test out your wand, Miss Hart.”

  “Seriously?” I couldn’t believe it. Were the training wheels coming off already? Before she could change her mind, I rummaged through my shoulder bag and whipped out my wand in anticipation.

  “Begonia, as I recall, you were adept with spells of superficiality last term. Why don’t you demonstrate one for us?”

  Begonia’s shoulders straightened. “Yes, Lady Weatherby.” She took her place in front of the class. “Any spell in particular?”

  “Your choice.”

  Wow. Lady Weatherby must have had a shot of generosity in her morning latte. This collaborative approach to learning was not her usual style.

  Begonia turned toward me. “This is your lucky day, Emma.”

  I find that difficult to believe, I thought to myself.

  Me too, Sedgwick chimed in from his corner of the room.

  No one asked you, I snapped.

  Can I please grab her wand and fly off with it just for fun? I know lots of places off the beaten track.

  I’ll bet. You will do no such thing.

  Begonia pointed her wand at me and chanted, “Let this spell erase/the stress to Emma’s face.”

  I felt the energy prick my skin, more like a vibration than a pinch.

  “Someone get her a mirror,” Begonia said excitedly.

  Millie thrust a mirror under my nose and my eyes widened at the reflection. The dark circles were gone and my freckles had faded. My complexion was clear and smooth, making my green eyes pop. I could even see little flecks of gold.

  I touched my cheek in amazement. Who needed the Beauty Bar when you were friends with talented witches?

  “Begonia, that’s incredible.”

  She curtsied and glanced over her shoulder at Lady Weatherby. “Please can I do another? Her hair is crying out for a root spell.”

  Lady Weatherby rolled her dark eyes. “As you wish. One more and then we’ll move on.”

  Begonia pumped her fist in the air before focusing her attention back on me. She pointed her wand again and said, “Consider it a gift/to give this hair a lift.”

  I picked up the mirror and gasped. My flat, stringy hair was shiny and full. It was the closest I’d ever come to looking like a Dallas housewife.

  “Every witch should feel beautiful,” Begonia said.

  “I do now,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “All right,” Lady Weatherby said, motioning for Begonia to sit down. “Let’s try something else. Miss Hart, why don’t you
take center stage?”

  Begonia gave me a supportive squeeze as we passed each other.

  “There are other superficiality spells,” Lady Weatherby said. “Obviously Begonia chose ones to improve someone’s appearance. As with all spells, there are ones that produce the opposite result.”

  “I’m going to make someone ugly?” I asked.

  “Not necessarily,” she replied. “You can choose a spell that mimics an allergic reaction, for example.”

  “Like a bee sting?”

  “Yes. Or a spell that distorts certain features. Makes the nose bigger or the ears larger.”

  I clutched my wand, thinking hard. Under no circumstances did I want to accidentally distort Lady Weatherby’s features. I had to make sure I directed my will in the opposite direction.

  “Whenever you’re ready, Miss Hart.”

  I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. Pointing my wand at Millie, I began to chant, “A finger to a ring/A face to a sting.”

  My fatal error was movement. I was meant to remain in a standing pose, with my feet firmly planted. I knew this the way I knew I needed air to breathe. My brain, however, had other ideas and told my feet to walk toward Millie—probably due to my irrational fear that I’d somehow manage to zap Lady Weatherby anyway.

  I lurched forward as the tip of my toe caught on the table leg, and I lost control of the wand. I watched it—in what seemed like slow motion—fly out of my hand and flip through the air. As (bad) luck would have it, the tip of the wand pointed at the door at precisely the moment Sheriff Hugo ducked his head inside. His lips had just parted to speak when the spell took effect. The witches in the room gasped in horror as his cheeks swelled, then his nose, and finally his forehead. If I’d poked his head with a pin, I was sure it would have burst.

  “Stars and stones,” Laurel breathed.

  A heavy silence followed until my wand clattered to the floor, the sound jarring Lady Weatherby into action. She pointed her own wand at Sheriff Hugo and spoke in Latin. Some kind of counterspell, I assumed. Whatever she did, it worked because the sheriff’s swollen face began to deflate and his normal features were quickly restored. Despite the fast turnaround, the centaur did not seem happy.

  I ran over and picked up my wand.

  “Miss Hart,” Lady Weatherby seethed. “Please lower your wand.”

  My hand dropped to my side. “I wasn’t going to use it again.” I looked back at the sheriff. “I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

  “You’ll have to be better than sorry,” Lady Weatherby said. “Sorry doesn’t stir the cauldron.” She inhaled sharply. “Under the circumstances, I think it would be best if you took a break from witchcraft. It’s been rather a lot for you to take in. Perhaps it’s a case of too much too soon.”

  If you ask me, the entire town of Spellbound was a case of too much too soon. No one seemed to care how I was coping with this new life. Some residents had centuries to get used to the idea of living here, not to mention the fact that they already knew they were supernatural creatures. Every bit of this was new to me. Every daily task. I couldn’t possibly be a model student right out of the gate. My familiar wasn’t even a cat! Yet I was expected to embrace this life because I had no choice. Well, it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to mourn the life I left behind. Maybe I needed a funeral procession like Gareth’s. A red robe to publicly display my grief.

  Come on, Sedgwick, I said glumly. Let’s go home.

  Don’t worry about them. It will blow over in no time.

  “It doesn’t matter how long it takes,” I said aloud. “I’ll still be here either way.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I left the academy with Sedgwick flying above me at a safe distance. He’d made it clear that he didn’t like to perch on my shoulder like other owls. He was a snobby little thing, but he was mine.

  I was too busy wallowing in self-pity to pay attention to where I was going or I would have avoided walking straight into a solid wall of vampire chest.

  “Pardon me,” Demetrius said. “Are you all right?”

  I was fine, more embarrassed by the fact that my boobs were squashed against his chest mere seconds ago.

  “It was my fault,” I blurted. “Everything is my fault. The sheriff’s ugly face. Gareth’s murderer on the loose.” I waved my hands in the air. “And Mumford is probably going to spend eternity in prison because of me.”

  Demetrius fixed his soulful eyes on me. “You’re too pretty to look so shaken up. Why don’t you come and have a drink with me? Soothe those fractious nerves of yours.”

  “I’d like to, but I have to prepare for Mumford’s trial.” Wow. His eyes were mesmerizing. Could he please stop looking at me like that? It was very…seductive.

  “The only part of that sentence I heard was ‘I’d like to.’” His smile was smooth and sexy. The sight of his fangs made my heart flutter.

  “I suppose I could spare an hour,” I said. Or two. He even smelled good. Did vampires have a natural scent? I would’ve thought that was more of a werewolf thing.

  Sedgwick, you can go home.

  Are you sure? What if he tries to bite you?

  I’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t.

  Witches are weird.

  Sedgwick flew off in the direction of the house and I continued to stand there, staring into Demetrius’s handsome face.

  “The pub is this way,” he said, and offered his arm.

  The Horned Owl was the rival pub to the Spotted Owl. They were owned by incubi—two brothers. Vampires and certain other residents preferred the Horned Owl, whereas werewolves, sirens, and witches preferred the Spotted Owl.

  When we walked in together, every head seemed to swivel in our direction. I wasn’t sure if it was the sight of me in the bar, or the sight of me with Demetrius that made them curious.

  “You’re very popular,” he murmured, his breath warm on my neck. I shivered.

  “It’s probably you. Everybody hates me.”

  Speaking of residents who hated me, Sheriff Hugo trotted over from his stool at the bar. “Demetrius. Miss Hart.”

  “Sheriff Hugo. A little early for you, isn’t it?” Demetrius asked.

  “I’m recovering from an incident,” the sheriff said, giving me a pointed look. “Nothing a shot of whiskey fizz can’t cure.”

  “How goes the investigation?” Demetrius asked. “Lord Gilder and the rest of us are quite eager for Gareth’s killer to be brought to justice.”

  “I am well aware,” Sheriff Hugo said. “Astrid and I are doing our best, but some folks seem to think they can do a better job.”

  “Don’t worry, Sheriff,” I said. “I’m not meddling anymore. I can’t seem to do anything right, and that includes crime solving.”

  “Glad to hear it. Best to leave these things to the professionals.” He aimed his index finger at me like a gun and pretended to fire. I was beginning to think he wasn’t a centaur after all. What do you call a creature that’s part man, part jackass?

  Demetrius steered me to a quiet booth at the back of the pub. As we passed the booth in front of ours, a familiar face greeted mine.

  “Hello,” I said to Daniel. I glanced at his companion, a pretty woman I didn’t recognize. Her hair rolled down her shoulders in titian waves and her creamy complexion made me grateful for Begonia’s spell.

  Daniel seemed equally surprised to see me here with Demetrius. “Hello.” He hesitated, taking in my depressed appearance. “Are you okay?”

  I smiled weakly. “Define okay.”

  “Emma, you know Daniel, our heaven-sent resident.” Demetrius gestured to the woman. “His date is Teena.”

  “She’s not my date,” Daniel said quickly.

  Teena smiled at me, unconcerned with Daniel’s outburst. “A pleasure to meet you finally, Emma. I have heard so much about you.”

  I detected a slight Eastern European accent. How did any of them manage to retain their native accents after so many years? Part of the curse, I guess.


  “She’s a succubus,” Demetrius whispered.

  I couldn’t remember exactly what a succubus was, except she had something to do with sex. I swallowed hard. Great. Daniel was interested in sex, just not with me. Then again, I was out with a vampire. I wondered what Daniel thought about that. I focused my will on him. Maybe if I could read an owl’s mind, I could read an angel’s mind, too. After all, they both had wings.

  “Emma, are you feeling unwell?” Demetrius asked, sliding a concerned hand around my waist.

  “No, why?”

  “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

  I smoothed my hair and smiled. Apparently my focused face had a constipated quality to it.

  “You are most welcome to join us,” Teena said.

  “Oh.” My gaze shifted from Teena to Daniel. Did he mind? Did he want me to join them?

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get to know Emma without distractions,” Demetrius said. He shot Teena a pointed look. “You know how greedy you can be when it comes to male attention.”

  Teena blew him a kiss. “Fair enough, my love.”

  I slid into the booth behind them and was acutely aware of Daniel directly behind me. I wasn’t sure if I could give Demetrius my full attention with Daniel so close to me.

  “If you need any recommendations, just ask,” Demetrius said. “I’m sure it must be disconcerting, not knowing what to eat or drink.”

 

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