by Maher Tegan
He shook his head. “Like I said, the two of us go way back, and whisky shakes loose a lot o’ secrets. I got plenty o’ his, too, so I ain’t too worried.”
I couldn’t attest to that because I was a rum girl, but I assumed that was a fact across the board.
“What if it’s not here?” Shane asked as I turned down the orb so low that I could barely see to creep along.
“It’s here,” Timothy replied. “Nothin’ else makes sense, and it’s needin’ a recharge. We couldn’ta picked a better time.”
“Do you smell that?” Shane asked, wrinkling his nose. I gave a sniff, but apparently his wolf nose was working overtime.
“I don’t smell anything,” I whispered, creeping along. “What is it?”
“Burned sugar cookies.”
The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood up. “Then it’s here, and it’s close.”
A few yards closer and I smelled it, too. I put my arm out to stop everyone, then opened my bag and summoned the demon catcher. It snapped up through the other million things in there and landed in my palm with a comforting thump. Just for good measure, I recited the spell Kira had given me in my head to make sure I remembered it.
“I’ll need backup in case it gets past me,” I said, then reached into my pocket for the sleeping draughts. I handed one to Shane and another to Timothy, who waved it off. “If that’s your sleepin’ draught, I have better magic for this situation than that, lass.”
I kept the spare in my hand. It couldn’t hurt.
“What do I do with this?” Shane asked. “I don’t have any magic like that.”
“You don’t need any. Just throw it at the ground underneath the demon. Hopefully it’ll hit. Oh, and be careful not to breathe in if you can.”
“What happens if I breathe it in?” he asked.
The draught only worked if you drank it, so there was no risk that it would knock any of us out in the process.”
I didn’t need to see Timothy’s face to pick up the disgust in his voice. “Your nostrils’ll be coated in a fine sheen of black licorice.”
“Gross,” Shane replied, and I could hear the shudder in his tone. “I’ll hold my breath.”
At least four out of the five of us were normal.
“Okay,” I said, determination coursing through me as my magic surged to my fingertips. “Let’s do this.”
12
The tunnel opened into a cavernous room, and a little piece of my brain was amazed that something like this had existed right underneath my feet. If I had my bearings right, we were directly underneath the charms shop, a place I’d been a hundred times.
I pulled in a deep breath. I’d decided that the best way to do this would be to make the light brighter. It would give me a bit of a disadvantage, but I had to see it to catch it.
“Here we go.” I turned up the wattage on the orb and gave it a magical shove toward the ceiling. Light exploded through the room, and an ear-splitting squeal came from somewhere to my right. Shane darted around to my left to help coral it, and Timothy raised his hands. Orange light shone from his palms, and though I didn’t understand the words he was speaking, it was clearly a spell of some sort.
A black shadow flew at Aaron, who smashed one of the draughts underneath it. It was a miss, though, and the shadow raced toward Shane, who made a perfect throw. The bottle exploded, and the shadow froze in place, hovering in midair. I slung the soul catcher under it and put all my magic into the spell. It opened and expanded to ten times its size, light shooting out of it. It sucked the shadow in, slammed shut, shrunk back down to its original small size, then rocked twice before settling on the damp rock, still.
“Is that it?” Shane asked, and his voice sounded ten times louder than usual in the silence.
“I think so,” I said, creeping cautiously toward the box. It was smoking a little, but when I reached out and poked it with my finger, it wasn’t hot to the touch.
“That’s it,” Timothy said, brushing off his hands and eyeing the soul catcher. “That’s the easiest time I’ve ever had getting rid of somethin’ like that. I wouldn’t mind havin’ one of those little gadgets, lass. Where’d ya come by it?”
“It was a gift from an angel,” I replied, opting for the shorter story. Even though it was quick, I felt like I could sleep for a week. I might have used a little too much juice in the spell, but at the time, I’d figured it was better to use too much than too little.
“Some gift,” he said, smiling appreciatively. “If she has an extra, I’d love to have one. Ye never know what the future might bring.”
I cast an extra bubble ward around the box, then dropped it back in my bag. “You’re exactly right, Timothy. I’ll talk to her, but either way, let’s hope we never have to use them again.”
13
Kira was still waist-deep in her other case, so there was no way to know when she’d be able to pick up the soul collector. She assured me it’d be fine, though, so popped it in my safe, threw an extra ward on it, and thanked the stars it was over.
Two days later, we were all sitting at the Cracked Cauldron having a beer. I was glad I’d gotten to know Timothy a little better, and we toasted to demon-free days.
“So what are we gonna do about the passages?” I asked. “Are we gonna re-seal them?”
He wiped some foam off his lip and stared into his glass, then sighed. “How close is yer angel to finishin’ her task?”
I shrugged and shook my head. “She’s not even sure yet, as far as I know, how many got loose. She did tell me when I let her know we’d captured this one that she’s learned they have a net. They can’t go much farther than fifty or so miles out without a body, so at least we’ve got that goin’ for us.”
He nodded. “Then I think it’s best to leave them open for now.” He whipped his gaze up to me. “Under the condition that nobody learns about them than us, your angel, and that cousin of yours.”
I tilted my head at him as Shane sat another beer in front of me. “What’s your reasoning behind that?” I wasn’t opposed, but I also didn’t understand the point.
“The tunnels are all spelled so that they can’t be detected from above ground, and nothin’ can escape through the walls, either. They might be a good trap for whatever else might come along. If we can get them down here and contain ‘em, we run less risk of collateral damage.”
That was a valid point that I hadn’t even considered.
“It’s a solid plan,” Aaron said. “I think we should do it.”
I nodded. “Just so you know, Kira has a partner. If we have to use them, we might have to clue him in to them, too.”
He flicked his gaze to me. “Do you trust him?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I trust Kira and Michael, and they trust him. I’ll talk to Michael, though.”
“That’s good enough for me, then.” I looked down the bar. Calamity was on the bar munching on mozzarella sticks, red sauce stuck to her , and Shane was telling a joke about two leprechauns and a shifter. Timothy slapped the bar and guffawed at the punchline, and Aaron rolled his eyes, one corner of his mouth tipped in a wry smile.
Sunlight poured into the bar as somebody opened the door, and I squinted. Two forms stepped in, both smaller and slightly pear shaped. I grinned because I knew exactly who it was. In fact, I’d set this all up.
“Ms. Beatrice!” I exclaimed as she approached the bar. “It’s great to see you!”
She beamed at me. “You, too, sweetie. Are you here for the cheeseburgers?”
“I am.” I looked around her to the woman standing behind her. She looked around, her eyes a little wide.
“Ms. Peaches,” I said, dipping my head toward her. “How are you?” I had no idea if Peaches was her actual name, but I doubted it, not that it mattered. It’s all I’d ever heard her called.
“I’m fine,” she replied, looking around with a touch of disdain, “though I have no idea why we came here rather than the tearoom. That’s certainly where
I thought we were going. Not to some hostelry.”
I turned to Aaron and mouthed the word, then pulled a face. I was positive I’d never heard the word used in real life, ever.
Ms. Beatrice huffed an unladylike breath out through her nose. “That place is terrible. Before we leave here, you’re havin’ a glass of wine and a burger. It’ll be good for you. Maybe take that stick outta your butt.”
The woman gasped and touched the demure lace collar of her flowered blouse. “Bea! It’s the middle of the day!”
Beatrice motioned to Shane, who brought her a sudsy glass of beer. Much to my amazement, she slugged down a quarter of it and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, Peaches, my girl. We didn’t get this old just to sit around and rot.” Ms. Bea jerked her head toward Peaches. “Be a dear, Shane, and bring her your house red.”
She looked at me and winked. Peaches was on the city commission, and she had a lot of pull. We still hadn’t settled the whole bit about the lights, and Bea and I had arranged this whole thing just so Peaches—who Bea happened to know had a thing for leprechauns—could meet Timothy. I’d decided not to tell my friend about it in case nothing came of it, but Bea also had it on good authority that the older witch was fond of the gas lights but had seen their replacement as yet another inevitable move toward technology. We’d decided to give her a reason to keep things old-fashioned.
“Ms. Peaches, may I introduce you to my friends?” I asked.
I made the introductions, and she blushed like a new bride when Timothy kissed her hand. “Your name doesn’t do you justice. You’re way prettier than any peach I’ve ever seen.”
She giggled like a schoolgirl. “Go on with you! How are things goin’ for you? You work for the county, yes?”
He nodded, his expression turning grave. “I do, but I’m afraid things aren’t going so well these days.”
She put a white-gloved hand to her cheek. “Why ever not?”
He pressed his lips together for a moment. “No offense, madame, but your commission has decided to upgrade the gas lights, and I’ll be losin’ me job.”
She frowned. “I’m sure I didn’t vote for that. The lights, yes, but …”
I watched her connect the dots and come to the obvious conclusion. I decided to give her a nudge. “Timothy helped build this town, Ms. Peaches. He’s been the lamplighter since they were installed.”
Concern etched her face. “Well, that won’t do at all. Rest assured, sir. Your job is secure.”
Timothy’s face lit, and he stood to offer her his stool, which she took with a smile.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Ms. Peaches may have seemed like a gentle Southern Belle, but she ruled the commission with an iron fist. She was a diplomat, but I’d stood witness to what she could do if she dug her heels in. If she said his job was secure, it was a done deal.
Ms. Bea winked at me and took another sip of her beer, and Aaron gave me a warm smile. We’d managed to capture a demon and save a good man’s job. It had been a good week.
Warmth infused my heart. These were my people, and though I had no idea what was to come, I knew I wasn’t going to face it alone.
Connect with Me!
I love to write, and staying in contact with my readers helps me create characters and plots that you will enjoy too. I share a lot of insight and laughs with the folks in my Facebook group, The Cracked Cauldron. You should join us!
To receive notifications about new releases, deals, and other exciting news, join my exclusive readers’ group here. I’m a reader too, so if I come across a good deal by a great author, I may share it in the weekly update, but I won’t spam you with salesy BS. I may include obscure trivia, though; you’d be amazed what I learn while researching!
If you’re not an email-list person, keep track of what’s going by following me on Bookbub or on my Amazon author page.
Other Series by Tegan Maher
The Enchanted Coast Magical Mysteries (Destiny Maganti)
Cori Sloane, Witchy Werewolf
Haunted Lodge Mysteries (Toni Owens)
Celestial Academy: The Witch (Shelby Flynn)
Paranormal Artifacts Cozy Mysteries (Sage Parker)
Witches of Abaddon’s Gate (Mila Maganti)
Coming Soon: Gulf Coast Reaper Chronicles (Wren)
About Tegan
I was born and raised in the South and even hung my motorcycle helmet in Colorado for a few months. I've always had a touch of wanderlust and have never feared just packing up and going on new adventures, whether in real life or via the pages of a great book.
When I was a little girl, I didn't want to grow up to be a writer—I wanted to raise unicorns and be a superhero. When those gigs fell through, I chose the next best thing: creating my own magical lands filled with adventure, magic, humor, and romance.
I live in Florida with my two dogs. When I'm not writing or reading, I'm racing motorcycles or binge-watching anything magical on Netflix.
I'm eternally grateful for all the people who help make my life what it is today - friends, readers, family. No woman is an island.
14
Marked by Fate
I pulled in a couple of deep breaths and swiped a stray tear from my cheek as I cast one last look in my rearview mirror. My whole family and most of our friends stood in the front yard of our farm, watching as I took my first big step into adulthood.
It had been all I could do to keep the tears at bay when I’d hugged my sister, Noelle, goodbye before I pulled out of the driveway, college bound. She’d been holding it together by a thread, though, and if I’d started, she would have fallen apart. Don’t get me wrong—she’s the strongest woman I know, but we’re peas and carrots, and she worries about me.
It doesn’t help that we’ve had some messy scrapes with people trying to kill us. When you’re the most powerful witch family in the region, it only stands to reason that somebody’s gonna feel froggy every now and again. Fortunately, we’d beaten the bad guys and come out relatively unscathed, but that didn’t do much to stop Noelle from creating all sorts of terrifying what-ifs in her head.
I am, after all, her baby sister. It doesn’t matter that I’m more powerful than she is, or that I have my friend, Emma, who’s also handy with her magic, to watch my back. Noelle finished raising me when our Aunt Addy—the one currently hovering, translucent, beside her—had died, and she’d given up her own life to do it.
As I rounded the curve in our winding driveway and my peeps disappeared from view, I sent out a wish to the universe that maybe now that I was off to college, she’d start doing a little living for herself again. She’d earned it.
And I’d stretch my wings and find my place in this world, too. After all, an honest-to-God angel had once told me I was destined for great things.
The thing about that, though, is that Destiny can be a real bitch.
15
“What do you mean, there was a mix-up with my room assignment?” I growled at the lady responsible for giving us our dorm room assignments. “We sent in our requests weeks before they were due, and I called to make sure everything was in order. Twice.” I rolled my head on my shoulders, trying to stretch out the kinks from driving for four hours straight. I was hungry, tired, and still a little emotional from leaving my home. Change is stressful even when it’s good, and I was wrung clear out. All I wanted was to get to our room, unpack the bare essentials, and order a pizza, but apparently, Emma was listed on the assignment we’d gotten, but I wasn’t.
The middle-aged woman sitting in front of me typed something into her computer, then clicked a couple times, stopping to run a coral fingernail down the screen as she did so. She shook her head, causing her platinum bob to swing around her face. “I’m sorry, Miss Flynn, but it says right here that you’ve been reassigned.”
Emma shot me an exasperated look and rolled her brown eyes at me as the woman smiled pleasantly up at me as if she had just given me a puppy rather than told me t
hey’d screwed up. She clicked to another screen and scrolled down in for a couple of seconds, then glanced back at me, her smile accentuating the fine crow’s feet at the corners of her cornflower eyes. “It seems you’re not in the standard dorms. Due to lack of space in the dorms, you’ve been assigned to one of the apartment buildings instead. Apartment 434.” She rattled off the name of the building, then gave a vague gesture to the left in what, I assume, was the general direction of the building.
“Apartment buildings?” Em asked. We’d looked at the apartment housing, but it hadn’t been available to us as freshman. Now it seems the tides had turned in our favor. “You mean we have a whole apartment to ourselves?” The glee in her expression was similar to the time a couple Christmases before when we’d filled the fountain in front of our high school with green dye.
“Well,” the woman said, drawing it out as she clicked from one page to another, then back again, “not exactly. It seems Miss Flynn is in a two-bedroom expanded to double occupancy, which means, obviously, that there will be three other girls living there. However, there’s no fourth roommate listed yet. What was your name again?”
“Emma. Emma Payne.”
She shook her head. “No, the only girls listed here are Devin Dark and Breena Kellen, and they’ve both already checked in.”
As the woman went to a homepage and typed in her name, what had begun as a small kernel of irritation was growing into a seedling of concern. Moving so far away from home had been stressful for us both, but knowing we’d be roommates had made it much less scary.
The phone rang for the third time while she was waiting for the page to load, and two linebacker looking guys in line behind us started to grumble.
“Just get your assignments and apply for a change,” the blond refrigerator said, his tone impatient. “The rest of us would like to get our assignments before the semester ends, if you don’t mind.”