All the Pretty Witches (A Hannah Hickok Witchy Mystery Book 6)

by Lily Harper Hart

  Hannah sat still, her hands on her takeout container, and studied him. “You’re thinking about Wonder Woman’s outfit, aren’t you?”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  “What about Captain Marvel?”

  “I like her snark, but the Wonder Woman outfit is better.”

  “I have a Wonder Woman Halloween costume,” Hannah admitted as she popped the top on her container. “I look really cute in it so I packed it, even though I wasn’t certain how Halloween would be here.”

  When Cooper didn’t immediately respond, Hannah lifted her chin and found him staring at her. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. “What?”

  “Are you telling me you have a Wonder Woman costume in this apartment?”

  She was taken aback by the gleam in his eyes. “Maybe.” She waited a beat. “Yes.” Now it was her turn to smile. “Are you excited?”

  “It depends.” His tone was measured. “Do you have the bracelets, too?”

  “Of course. You can’t be Wonder Woman without the bracelets.”

  “What about the lasso?”

  She realized where his head was and found it amused her greatly. “I have the lasso. It’s made of silk strings. It’s pretty cool.”

  He pursed his lips. “So ... I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling pretty tired. I think we should eat dinner, take Jinx out for his evening constitutional, and then turn in early.”

  “Oh, really?” Hannah’s smile was so wide it threatened to swallow her entire face. “That will mean like ten hours of sleep. Isn’t that too much?”

  “Oh, we’re not going to be sleeping.”

  She laughed. It felt good. “Okay, but then it’s back to research in the morning. I don’t think one night off will hurt us, though.”

  “I happen to agree.” He paused a beat. “Make sure you put the whole outfit on. I want the lasso.”

  “I think we can come to an agreement.”

  “And that right there is why I love you more than anything.”

  “Right back at you.”

  2

  Two

  Hannah tumbled into sleep even though she was convinced she would toss and turn all night. The moment she rested her head on Cooper’s shoulder, she was out. He followed soon after.

  Initially, her sleep was dreamless, and she was happy to float on a dark cloud rather than deal with the dreams that had been plaguing her since Bettina took over Angel’s body. Unfortunately, that didn’t last. Somewhere along the way, she realized the darkness was starting to give way to forms ... and it was something that had her stomach tightening and her heart pounding.

  She was in a house. Her first instinct was that it was the house she was living in right before she moved to Casper Creek, but the archways between rooms weren’t right. Also, even though she’d never been much of a housekeeper, the number of items strewn about the floor told her she was someplace else entirely.

  She took a moment to survey her surroundings, her eyes drifting to a set of framed photographs on the wall. They looked to have been arranged artfully at one point, but now three of them were askew and two spots were open. Still, she moved closer to look over the photographs, hoping she would find faces she recognized. She did not. All she could ascertain with any form of certainty was that a family lived in the home — two young girls and a boy along with their parents — and that something very bad had happened within the walls of the rundown abode.

  “Hello?” she called out the single word greeting with a fair amount of trepidation. As nervous as she was, she was also desperate for someone else to join her. Honestly, at this point, anyone would do. She simply didn’t want to be alone. Even in her muddled state, she was fully aware it was a dream ... and yet she couldn’t shake the fear stalking her.

  She tried again. “Hello?”

  This time there was a response, although it wasn’t the one she was anticipating. Instead of a voice, a loud pounding ricocheted against the door behind her, practically causing her to jump out of her skin. Her breath came out in a ragged gasp, and when she turned to stare at the door, she fully expected some monster to come barreling through. Instead, whoever was on the other side knocked again.

  “Police,” a familiar voice barked. “We’ve had a report of loud noises at this address. We require someone to open the door.”

  Hannah exhaled heavily, relief washing over her. Boone. It was James Boone, the local sheriff. If he was in her dream, then it was going to be okay. She moved to the door, prepared to slide the safety chain off and open it for him — perhaps he would know why she was trapped in this place — but her hands refused to grasp the metal peg. She tried again, her eyebrows hiking when her fingers made contact with absolutely nothing. It wasn’t even that her fingers passed through the door, like she was a ghost — which would’ve been a whole other problem — as much as she couldn’t interact with the door or chain.

  She worked her jaw, confused.

  On the other side, Boone knocked again. “We will gain entry to this house one way or another,” he warned. “The neighbors heard screams. We’re not leaving. Open the door or we will utilize extreme measures to open it.”

  He sounded serious Hannah noted. He was obviously worried that something horrible had happened inside the house. She glanced over her shoulder again, taking in the overturned coffee table and messy photos. Hadn’t something terrible happened here? She could feel a hard yes in her bones, and yet there was no obvious proof.

  “Boone?” She called out his name. If she couldn’t join him, at least she could warn him. “There’s nobody in here. You can kick in the door.”

  She waited for him to respond, but as with everything else, she was left without a response. That didn’t stop her from trying again. “Boone? Can you hear me?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She was opening her mouth for the third time when a loud banging sound assailed her ears and something large struck the door at the juncture where the handle met the frame. The wood splintered and the door flew open, causing Hannah to instinctively protect her face. However, no debris made contact with her delicate skin. It was almost as if she wasn’t there ... and yet she was.

  Her eyes went wide as Boone strode through the door, his service weapon drawn. His stare was keen as he looked left to right, obviously searching the shadows for whoever lived in the house. He seemed to be a man on a mission.

  “I guess it’s too much to ask that you see me, huh?” Hannah groused as she regarded him. He didn’t look in her direction, which meant he didn’t hear her. He clearly hadn’t seen her either. “I’m just here to observe. I can’t help you do ... whatever it is you’re doing.” Her eyes flew back to the photos on the wall. “I don’t think they’re here. If you’re trying to save them ... .” Even as she considered the possibility that the family was somewhere deeper inside the house — perhaps hiding, perhaps something worse — Boone moved past her.

  “Why am I here?” At this point, Hannah was talking to nobody in particular. She just didn’t want the house to fall into silence again. “If I can’t help, can’t ask questions, then what am I even doing here?” Her frustration was evident as she glared at Boone’s back. “I want to blame you for this. I know that’s not fair, but I can’t help myself. I ... .” Before she could finish her petty diatribe, a shadow slipped out from behind the wall in the adjacent room, causing her throat to constrict.

  Boone had moved far enough into the house that he was already past the point where the figure — it looked to be a man — had emerged. He didn’t see him, Hannah realized. He didn’t hear him.

  She watched in abject horror as the man raised what looked to be an ugly knife and moved in behind Boone. Momentarily forgetting that Boone couldn’t hear her, Hannah screamed for him to look out.

  He didn’t react to the warning of course. The rules of the dream wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t turn in time to see his attacker and have a shot at fighting him off. Instead, the knife shifted over the shadowy man’s he
ad — momentarily gleaming in the limited light allowed by the dim moon through the closed blinds — and then descended toward Boone’s shoulder blades.

  There was absolutely nothing Hannah could do but watch ... and scream.

  “BOONE!”

  Hannah bolted to a sitting position in her bed, her hands flying over her face as she tried to ward off the vision.

  Next to her, Cooper jerked awake, his eyes wide. He seemed baffled by what was happening and yet ready for battle if the rigid set of his shoulders were any indication. He scanned the room, looking for an enemy he could fight. All he found was a sleepy Jinx, who looked altogether unhappy about being woken in the middle of the night.

  “Baby, what is it?” Cooper gently wrapped his hands around Hannah’s wrists and nudged them down so he could study her face. A myriad of thoughts raced through his mind. Was she sick? Was it a nightmare? Was she somehow being magically attacked? Her expression offered few clues. “Baby?”

  “I ... .” Hannah’s mouth was agape as she struggled to catch her breath.

  “It’s okay.” Cooper brushed her flaxen hair away from her forehead. She’d obviously slept hard because it was a mess, sticking out in a thousand different directions. “Just tell me and I’ll fix it.” His heart hurt at the bewildered expression on her face.

  “I ... um ... .”

  “It was a dream,” Cooper surmised, internally cursing the fact that she couldn’t even find peace in slumber. “I’m sorry.” He tugged her into his arms. “Tell me.”

  Hannah struggled to organize her thoughts. “I was in a house. I didn’t recognize it. I ... um ... it looked as if there had been a struggle.”

  “You didn’t recognize the house?” To Cooper, that sounded odd. “We watched a horror movie two nights ago. I believe I told you then that it was a mistake. Maybe it was the house from the movie.”

  When Hannah pulled back, her eyes were narrow slits. “It wasn’t the house from the movie. Also, I have no problem watching horror movies. They don’t bother me at all.”

  “Obviously that’s not true because you just woke up from a nightmare.”

  “It wasn’t the movie,” Hannah insisted.

  “Then what was it?”

  “I don’t know. It was something else. Boone was there.”

  Cooper was taken aback. “If you’re about to tell me you had a sex dream about Boone, I don’t care that he’s like a father figure to both of us, I will beat the crap out of him.”

  Under normal circumstances, the declaration would’ve nudged a smile out of Hannah. She couldn’t muster one now. “He was in a house. It was dark. He said the neighbors had called, heard noises, screams even. He broke through the front door.”

  Cooper nodded. “Okay.”

  “Someone was hiding in the house. I didn’t see him until he was already behind Boone. He couldn’t hear me when I tried to warn him. The man ... .” Hannah couldn’t finish it out. It was too awful.

  “Boone was hurt in your dream,” Cooper said finally. “That’s what has you so upset.”

  “It felt different than a dream.”

  “How so?”

  “Just ... different.” Hannah had no idea how she was supposed to explain it to him when she was having trouble understanding it herself. “I think he’s in trouble.”

  Cooper’s eyebrows migrated up his forehead and encroached on his hairline. “Because of a dream you had? Isn’t it possible you’re just worried about him because he’s been so upset over Angel? I mean ... he is technically her guardian while waiting on news about her parents. He blames himself for what happened, just like you.”

  Hannah was vehement as she shook her head. “It’s more than that.”

  Cooper eyed her for a long time. “You want me to call him, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s kind of early, or late depending on how you look at the day.”

  “I don’t care. I have to know he’s safe.”

  Cooper wasn’t convinced, but he nodded all the same. “If he’s angry, I’m going to blame you. I’ll probably still get the brunt of the lecture he unleashes, but I won’t feel bad in the least about tattling on you.”

  Hannah grabbed his phone from the nightstand and shoved it in his direction. “I’ll take all the blame. Just call him.”

  She was too serious to ignore. Instead, Cooper nodded and started searching his contacts. “I’m on it. You’re going to owe me, though.”

  “I’ll wear outfits if you want.”

  “Now we’re talking.”

  BOONE DIDN’T ANSWER, WHICH did nothing to soothe Hannah’s frazzled nerves. When Cooper called his office, the dispatcher — who was familiar with Cooper — told him Boone was out on a potential domestic violence call and provided the address. Because Cooper knew Hannah wasn’t simply going to let it go, he was resigned when they jumped into the same clothes they’d discarded hours before. They dropped Jinx off with Tyler, who was fast asleep, and then headed into town.

  Hannah was quiet for the drive, her gaze pointed out the window. Cooper was concerned enough that he reached over and collected her hand to get her attention. “I’m sure Boone is fine. It was just a dream.”

  “It felt real.”

  He worked his jaw. On one hand, he felt she was being an alarmist. On the other, previous dreams had proven her magic was kicking into high gear. He couldn’t completely rule out the possibility that she was right. “Hold on.” He gave her hand one more squeeze and then increased his speed. “We’ll get to him as fast as possible.”

  Hannah nodded and readjusted in her seat. “Thank you for not thinking I’m a loon.”

  “Of course not.” He kept his eyes on the road. “You’ll feel better once we see him.”

  “I will,” she agreed. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” Even as she said the words, they didn’t feel right. “How long?”

  “Five minutes.”

  “Okay.” She went back to staring out the window.

  Cooper knew there was nothing he could do to fix things so he focused on navigating the light traffic, which was practically nonexistent given the time of day. Once he found the neighborhood he was looking for, he followed his GPS to the street address the dispatcher had provided for him. He was relieved when he saw Boone’s vehicle outside.

  “See. He’s fine.”

  Boone wasn’t in the vehicle, though, and Hannah recognized the window at the front of the house from her dream. She unfastened her seatbelt in record time and pushed open the door before he could park, hitting the ground hard as she started racing toward the house. Her heart was already pounding and she was terrified about what she would find.

  “Hannah!” Cooper yelled her name in frustration as he slammed his truck into park in the middle of the street — through traffic would just have to drive around ... or wait — and raced after her.

  She didn’t pause at the top of the steps and instead plunged into the house, which was mired in gloom. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness — all the blinds were closed and not a single light was on — and when she finally managed to register what she was seeing, she thought her heart would burst out of her chest.

  Every single thing was the same as what she’d glimpsed in her dream, down to the cockeyed framed photographs on the wall. What was worse, when she focused on the adjacent dining room, she could make out a man’s back … which meant it wasn’t too late. She raced forward, not thinking, and shoved the man with everything she had at the exact moment a shadowy figure emerged from her left. Thanks to the dream, she knew what was coming and lifted her hand to deflect.

  It was instinct that had her covering her face, and that instinct had magical fire erupting from her fingertips and shoving her attacker into the wall.

  For his part, Boone was dumbfounded. He had his service weapon drawn, but confusion washed over him when he realized it was Hannah attacking him ... and there was yet another person in the room. “What are you doing?” he demanded as he tr
ied to absorb the scene.

  Hannah didn’t respond. Instead she slapped her hand against the side of the man’s face, grunting as the magic poured out of her. She had no idea if she was doing the right thing. All she knew was that she had to protect Boone.

  The man’s eyes flashed with hatred when they opened ... and then they glowed red. Hannah was so taken aback she almost yanked back her hand. It was only at the last second that she realized what a mistake that would be and added more magic to the mix.

  Reflexively, the man arced out with the knife. Cooper, who was just racing into the room, realized what was happening at the exact right moment and managed to grab his wrist, keeping the lethal end of the knife away from Hannah as he watched her glowing hands wrap around his throat.

  “Hannah!” For some reason — fear most likely — Cooper felt the need to stop her before she killed him.

  His voice was what cut through the fog in Hannah’s brain and had her releasing the man, watching dispassionately as he hit the ground. She stood there, rooted to her spot, and stared at the prone figure, as if expecting him to hop to his feet.

  Cooper was understandably concerned. He dropped the knife on the floor and kicked it to the opposite wall to make sure it couldn’t be used against them if the man did regain consciousness. Then he closed the distance between them. “Baby?”

  She finally focused, as if realizing for the first time that she wasn’t alone. “It was the dream.”

  Cooper stared at her for a long beat and then nodded as he pulled her against him, his lips landing on her forehead as he met Boone’s confused stare above her head.

  “Does somebody want to tell me what’s going on here?” Boone demanded.

  “Hannah had a dream,” Cooper replied. “She woke up, really upset, and insisted we find you.”