Prelude to a Witch

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Dad gave them to me.” Clove popped another one in her mouth. “I mentioned that I’d been craving them and he dug up this box. They’re from last Christmas but still surprisingly good.”

  “Well, bully for you.” I glanced between them, debating, and then decided to tell them. “I saw something in the window of the diner a few minutes ago.”

  “Was it Aunt Tillie?” Thistle scowled. “I told her to go home, but she’s probably stalking Mrs. Little.”

  “It wasn’t Aunt Tillie.” In halting terms, I told them what I’d seen. When I was finished, Clove whined.

  “Oh, I don’t want another crisis,” she moaned. “Can’t we be crisis-free until after the baby is born?”

  “I’m planning a wedding, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “She can’t see beyond the chocolate,” Thistle said. “She doesn’t care about anyone but herself.”

  “That’s not true,” Clove protested. “It’s just ... I’m going to have a baby. I need to focus on that.”

  “In other words, she has no time for our issues,” Thistle muttered.

  I pinned Thistle with a suspicious look, debating whether or not I should chase that topic before deciding against it. Something other than Clove’s eating habits was bothering Thistle. If I wanted to drag it out of her, I would need privacy.

  “I just wanted you guys to know so you’re careful,” I said. “I’m not sure what I saw. I’m not even sure it was real.”

  “Oh, it was real.” Clove wrinkled her ski-slope nose. “We don’t have good luck, so there’s no way you’re suffering from a brain tumor and seeing things that aren’t there.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Did you just wish a brain tumor on me?”

  She shrugged. “Not a life-threatening one. I just would prefer you have one of those little ones that’s easy to take out, not cancer or anything. You have to admit that’s preferable to fighting window monsters. I mean ... has anybody even heard of those?”

  “No, and that’s why I stopped by to warn you guys. I’m not sure what they are.” I turned to Thistle. “Be careful. If you stumble across anything in one of your books that explains window monsters, I’d appreciate a heads-up.”

  “I can do some reading,” Thistle offered, her earlier annoyance apparently forgotten. “I’m not sure what I’ll find. I’ve never heard of window monsters. Mirror monsters are a thing, though. I guess I can start there.”

  I bobbed my head. “Good idea. I need to go to the office and then I’m going home. I have a stack of books there I can go through.”

  “There’s also the library at the inn. You might find something there.”

  “But then I’ll have to bring Aunt Tillie in on the research. That’s always hit or miss.”

  “Given what happened with Paisley Gilmore and those runes, it might be the wise choice. She’s a crazy old bat, but she’s smart when it comes to dark magic.”

  She had a point. “I’ll consider it. For now, I have to focus on work. If you find anything, let me know.”

  Thistle offered up a mock salute. “No problem. I’ll work it in between feeding rounds for Clove. That seems to be my main purpose in life these days.”

  I shot her another look. She was definitely upset about something.

  “We’ll talk later,” I promised. “I need to get some stuff done at The Whistler first.”

  I SPENT HOURS WORKING ON THE NEXT edition of The Whistler. My neck and back hurt when it was time to go home.

  I pulled into the driveway that led to the guesthouse where Landon and I lived, briefly wondering if I had time for a bath before dinner. All thoughts of relaxation fled when I realized who was standing on my front porch.

  I gripped my keys as I moved in Aunt Willa’s direction. “This is a surprise.”

  “Yes, I’m a delightful houseguest,” Aunt Willa agreed.

  “I didn’t say it was a good surprise.”

  The smile that she’d pasted on her face disappeared almost instantaneously. “Listen, Bay, I know you don’t like me.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  She pretended I hadn’t spoken. “I’m still your family.”

  I gestured toward the inn, the roof visible in the distance. “That’s my family. Landon is my family. Chief Terry is my family.”

  “We share blood.”

  “Blood doesn’t make family.” I tried to edge around her to put my key in the lock, but she refused to move. “What is it you want?” I demanded. I was exhausted and she was the last person I wanted to deal with.

  “To strike a deal.”

  “With me?” I couldn’t contain my surprise. “Why would you want to strike a deal with me?”

  “Because you’re really in charge of this family.”

  I tried to imagine my mother’s face if she heard those words escape Aunt Willa’s mouth. “Yeah, I think you’re mixed up. It doesn’t matter, nobody in our family wants to deal with you.”

  “I don’t want to deal with you either. Heck, I don’t want to be back in this stupid town. I hate it here.”

  “And yet ... .” I held out my hands.

  “I’m only here because Brian considers this home. He and Rosemary are building a life. I don’t want it to be a terrible life.”

  “And you think I’ll somehow ruin it?”

  “Not you specifically, but Brian really does seem to hate you. His feelings for your fiancé are even more difficult to untangle.”

  “There’s nothing to untangle. He hates Landon too.”

  “You’re right. But I’m here to propose a deal.”

  She had to be joking. But she had no sense of humor. “What do you want?”

  “I want you and your cousins to leave Rosemary and Brian alone.”

  “We have no interest in either of them.”

  “Then why did Rosemary track me down an hour ago crying because you terrorized her?”

  “That’s not how I remember it going down.”

  “She feels you’re out to get her.”

  “That’s funny, because I can’t help but feel she’s out to get me.”

  “That’s why we need to strike a deal.” Willa was firm. “If you agree to keep your arm of the family away from Brian and Rosemary, I promise to keep them away from you.”

  “I can’t control Aunt Tillie.”

  “You could if you wanted.”

  “I don’t want to. I don’t want you people here. This is my town. You might consider that rude, but I really don’t care. I’m not making a deal with you.”

  Aunt Willa’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You should reconsider.”

  “I want you off my property. I have nothing more to say to you.”

  “You’ll regret this, Bay,” she warned. “I came to you with a truce and you threw it back in my face. That’s a mistake.”

  “The mistake was you guys coming back. This is our town. You have no place here. Get out or get out of the way. Those are your choices.”

  “I think we have a few more choices than that.”

  “I guess we’ll see.”

  7

  Seven

  Landon arrived home after I’d relaxed in the tub and dried my hair. I was picking out an outfit for dinner when he strolled into the bedroom.

  “You didn’t text me all day,” he announced.

  I shifted my gaze away from the blue shirt I was considering to him. “I was with you for half the day.”

  “Fine. You didn’t text me all afternoon.”

  “So?”

  “So, I was worried.” He ran his hands over the shoulders of my fuzzy robe. “There’s a murderer on the loose, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “It’s Hemlock Cove. Isn’t there always a murderer on the loose?”

  “This is an especially brutal murderer.”

  “Well, as you can see, I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.” His fingers traced under my eyes. “You look tired. Do you want to skip dinner and stay home tonight?” />
  “Um ... no. We have nothing to eat but Pop-Tarts.”

  “I can live on Pop-Tarts ... and love.”

  “I want real food.” I shrugged out of my robe and tugged the shirt over my head. “I’m hungry.”

  “You’re upset,” he said.

  “I’m not upset.” I avoided his probing gaze. What was I supposed to say to him? “I’m ... conflicted.”

  “Tell me what’s bothering you.” He insisted.

  “I ... saw something this afternoon.” It came tumbling out. “I know I should’ve said something then, but I don’t even know what it was. I mean ... evil window people? What is that?”

  He dropped to the bed, his hand on my waist. “I’m not an expert on this stuff.”

  “Apparently neither am I because I’ve never heard of window monsters.”

  “Do you think they were ghosts? You can see ghosts that nobody else can.”

  “Aunt Tillie can.”

  “But you’re the one with the advancing powers.”

  “You’ve seen ghosts, too,” I reminded him.

  “I think I’ve seen ghosts because you can see ghosts.”

  “I don’t think that’s scientific. It sounds like a codependency thing.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Maybe it is. The few times I’ve managed it have been because you’ve been in trouble ... or exceedingly happy, like when I gave you the best proposal in the world.”

  That made me laugh. He was proud of his proposal, and rightfully so. I would never forget it. “It was the best proposal ever.” I sat next to him and dropped my hand in his lap so he could hold it. “I was afraid when I saw them.”

  He didn’t immediately respond, and when I turned to look at him, I found sympathy waiting for me. “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “Do you want me to say I’m disappointed? I’m not. You’re allowed to be afraid. I’m afraid all the time.”

  “I’ve never really been afraid of ghosts. Well, Floyd, but he was a poltergeist. Other than him, I’ve never been afraid of the dead.”

  “What about zombies?”

  “I’ve never seen a zombie. They’re not real.”

  “They might not eat brains, but I guarantee they’re real.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you’re real.” His fingers danced lightly over my cheek. “You’re my magical witch. Because of you, I believe that everything is real ... including this.” He moved my hand to the spot above his heart. “If you’re afraid, sweetie, don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me so we can deal with it together.”

  “I know I should’ve told you. I was just so confused.” I leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t know what to make of any of it.”

  “Well, I don’t either. We’ll figure it out. I don’t think it was a coincidence that your window monsters showed up the same day we found Paisley’s body.”

  “I don’t think so either.”

  “So, we need to deal with it.”

  I pressed my eyes shut and let him rub the back of my neck. “Maybe you should deal with it and I’ll hide in bed for a week. How does that sound?”

  “If I thought you would actually do that, I’d be all for it. We both know you won’t run from a problem. You’re just ... tired.”

  That was a fact. “Aunt Willa was here when I got home.” I’d left that part out of the story. She didn’t seem as important as the window ghosts. “She wanted to make a deal. She said if I could rein in the entire Winchester clan, she would make sure Brian and Rosemary didn’t bother us.”

  “I think I can guess what you said.”

  “I told her I didn’t want them in my town and I wasn’t going to do a thing to stop Aunt Tillie from exacting whatever revenge she cooks up.”

  “That’s exactly what I would’ve told her.”

  “What if they don’t leave? What if they stay here forever and we always have to deal with them?”

  “Then we won’t let them affect our lives. Bay, they’re not important in the grand scheme of things.” He turned me so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. “All that’s important is us, and our family. They can’t hurt us.”

  “What if they can?” That was the question that had been eating at me since they returned to Hemlock Cove. “Brian hates you. He’s going to mess with you, with your job. What if he gets you fired?”

  “He doesn’t have that power. I’ve already told Steve what happened when you bought the newspaper. There’s nothing Brian can hold over us. My boss was impressed when I told him what I did. He thought it was funny.”

  “There’s one thing Brian can hold over us.” I pointed at myself. “He knows we’re magical. He hasn’t figured it all out, but Aunt Tillie cursed him, like, three times ... including that one time she gave him spots on his you know what.”

  Landon broke into a grin. “Ah, that was a fun day, wasn’t it?”

  Now that he mentioned it, that was a fun day. “I’m still worried that Brian will do something terrible to you. I don’t trust him.”

  “I don’t either, but we clearly have bigger things to worry about. The stuff with Brian and Rosemary will work itself out.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I’ve never been happier in my life.” He nodded when I frowned. “It’s true. I have you, so I have everything. I will not let gnats derail our happiness. That’s all that they are. We’ll figure out what’s going on with them and get them out of our town.”

  I wanted to believe him. “How can you be sure?”

  “I’ve spent enough time with Aunt Tillie to know she won’t stop until she gets her way. She wants them out of Hemlock Cove. They won’t be able to stand up to the tidal wave of crap she sends in their direction.

  “Are you really going to sit there and tell me that you don’t think she’s going to torture them until they capitulate and flee town with their tails between their legs?” he continued. “She’s your great-aunt. You grew up with her. You know darned well she’s going to win.”

  I did know that. “It could get ugly before it gets better.”

  “See, I think watching Aunt Tillie torture them sounds fun. Either way, she’ll win in the end. That means we’ll win.”

  I pressed my eyes shut for a beat. “We should probably get ready for dinner. Your profiler will most likely be there when we get to the inn.”

  Landon nodded. “I got a text from Steve. The profiler is en route from the airport right now. You’re right. By the time we get there, we’re going to have an entirely new problem to grapple with.”

  “No matter who he is, or what he sees, he’ll be better than Willa and Rosemary.”

  Landon didn’t look convinced. “We need to be careful, though.”

  He was always bolstering me. “I really hope you’re right.” I gave him a quick kiss and hopped to my feet. “So ... blue?” I waved my hand before the shirt.

  “Whatever you want.” His grin was devastatingly charming. “Just make sure there aren’t a lot of buttons so I can romance the crap out of you when we get home.”

  I returned his smile. “Blue it is.” I paused a beat and then gripped his hand. “I really do love you. I hope you know that.”

  “I really love you. That’s why I know we can get through anything. Nothing can hurt us as long as we’re together.”

  I gave in and embraced the sentiment. I needed him to be right.

  WE WALKED TO THE INN, LETTING OURSELVES in through the rear door. Aunt Tillie wasn’t in her usual spot on the couch watching Jeopardy, which had worry zinging through my stomach.

  “I hope she hasn’t already found the profiler,” I muttered.

  Landon smirked. “Listen, I know you’re worried that she’ll start spouting nonsense, but it’s going to be okay. It’s likely that a profiler would assume she’s senile before believing anything she says. I mean ... she wears a combat helmet and inappropriate leggings to ride her scooter around town.”

  “She st
ill likes to freak people out.”

  “This is a town designed around witches,” he reminded me. “It’s possible this profiler will believe that Aunt Tillie is simply committed to her role.”

  “That’s true.” I brightened considerably. “We are known for our dinner theater.”

  “See.” He tapped the side of his head. “Now you’re thinking.”

  We stopped in the kitchen long enough to talk to Mom and Marnie. They were toiling over dinner and mentioned my Aunt Twila was working the front desk. That was also cause for concern, so rather than stop in the library for a drink as we normally would, we headed to the lobby ... and found my worst nightmare taking shape.

  Aunt Tillie, her combat helmet firmly in place and her pig Peg at her side, held up what looked to be a cross made from joined sticks — think very rudimentary Blair Witch Project artwork — and was facing down a pretty blonde in an expensive suit.

  “We don’t want any of your Mary Kay,” Aunt Tillie announced. “Now, begone, demon!”

  For her part, the woman looked more amused than annoyed. Her smile never faltered and she cocked her head as she regarded my great-aunt. “You must be Tillie Winchester.”

  Aunt Tillie’s eyes narrowed. “Who told you that?”

  “You’re famous in certain circles,” the woman said with a laugh.

  “I’m so sorry.” I held up my hands as I strode into the lobby. I couldn’t believe Aunt Tillie was harassing a guest. I expected her to go all out to drive the profiler crazy. What she was pulling now was beyond my scope of understanding. “Are you checking in?” I saw the reception desk was empty. “Where is Twila?”

  “Doing something stupid,” Aunt Tillie replied, her eyes never leaving the woman’s face. “She mentioned something about getting a book from the library.”

  “How is that stupid?” I asked.

  “It’s a book on teaching bears to drink from teacups.”

  She had to be making that up. “Well, fine.” I kept my smile in place even though I wanted to pound Aunt Tillie into the dust for making a mockery of Mom’s business. “I can check you in.” I moved behind the computer. “Your name?”