I smacked my forehead with my hand. “Sweet Honeysuckle Iced Tea, I bet it's a spell.”
What else could explain the sudden shift in everyone's attitudes? But in all my years, I’d never seen a casting that made my friends so goofy and confused. Like a love spell gone wrong. Or a love potion.
Taking a closer look at the contents in the punch bowl, I examined the pink liquid. I stirred it with the ladle, and tiny granules of something broke the surface. Effervescent bubbles fizzed. The pink of the lemonade changed and shimmered the longer I stared at it.
Somebody had spiked the drink for sure, and now all heck had broken loose. My particular talents were no good in this situation. Finding objects—not a problem these days. Tracing a spell back to the one who cast it? Not my department. I needed help, and the one person I could think of was here. But at the moment, he was dancing an awkward waltz. By himself. In the middle of the room.
“Mason,” I yelled out.
His eyes lit up, and he shimmied his way over to me. “You called?”
Hoping against hope that the detective still possessed some of his warden skills, I pleaded with him. “Mason, something's wrong here.”
“I completely concur.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “Yes. There's a crime happening.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh good. You’ve figured it out, too?”
He reached one hand out and hooked it around my waist, grabbing my other hand and holding it up. With one swirl, he pulled me into his body with a thump.
“It's a crime for such a pretty lady not to be dancing.” Without another word, he led me in erratic dance moves.
Pixie poop, what had I gotten myself into? “Detective Clairmont, focus. You need to summon up all your strength and help me.”
He twirled me away from him with enough strength that I stumbled and yanked me back. It took great effort on my part to keep us upright.
“Whatever you say, I'll do. It would be my pleasure,” Mason oozed with a charm that sent shivers down my spine, and not in a good way.
My lips twitched up in disgust. Sure, he and I had had our few moments together. I couldn't deny that something akin to tension might have existed between us. But right now, puke threatened to fly rather than sparks.
Following the detective’s lead, I took a chance. “Something's gone wrong, and we need to contain it. I need you to use the power of the wardens to lock everybody in place until we can solve it.”
Wardens possessed the ability to stop others in their tracks with their authoritative magic. If we could put a freeze on everyone at the singles mingle, then I could go get help and salvage the night.
“And will that do it?” Mason looked down at me, hope shining in his eyes.
“Do what?” I worried.
“Make you happy. I want you to be happy, Charli.”
Frosted fairy wings, if I could poof myself out of here and run far and wide, I would. Plastering a smile on my face, I did my best to reply through gritted teeth. “I’ll be extremely unhappy if you don't help me, Detective.”
He released me to my great relief. Striking a pose in the middle of the room like a superhero with his hands on his hips, he cried out, “I’ll save the day.”
I waited for everyone to freeze in place as soon as he enacted the wardens hold. But he rushed toward the door and caught me off guard.
With authority in his voice, he exclaimed, “By the authority of the warden's office of Honeysuckle Hollow, I lock you all in.”
“No,” I cried out too late.
Mason held out his hands and spellcast the door to Sweet Tooths. I smacked my forehead, realizing my mistake. I should have used a different word than lock. And now, we all were. Locked inside together, madness descending on each person except me. And they threatened to drag me down with them.
Mason sauntered over to me. “There. Now I have you captured.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“So you're not happy?”
“I am the farthest thing from happy right now.” No idea presented itself how to stop the goofy interactions and the wrong connections surrounding me.
Mason fell to his knees in front of me. “Then tell me what I must do.”
A table smashed into pieces. Horatio ignored the damage he caused. No longer focusing on talking literature with Linsey, he grinned with a vacant stare into the air. Dark green dust sprinkled down on his head, and Juniper bobbed and weaved in the air just out of the troll’s reach.
“That can't be good,” I groaned.
Another table slid across the floor in my direction, and Mason stopped it. “I’ll protect you from harm, Charli. For I am Mason Claremont, the best detective this side of the country. At least I was until the incident that brought me here.”
Curiosity zinged through my veins. Although we needed to fix the situation, I wanted to know more about the mysterious Detective and why he had settled temporarily here in Honeysuckle. But he bounded away to try and corral the enormous troll, failing to make a difference due to their vast difference in size.
Needing a break, I dove behind the counter to take refuge, crouching down and plopping into a seated position. I found myself next to a miserable cupid.
“Skeeter, how did this happen?” Rubbing my temples, I attempted to make sense of it all.
The depressed Cupid shook his head, took off his trucker’s hat, and scratched his sweaty curls. “I told you. Everything I touch turns into a disaster.”
“But this was full proof. I even stacked the deck for you with a couple of couples that were sure to get together with a little push.”
He sighed. “Well, maybe I'm not the one to give anyone some help. I've failed yet again.”
His sulking and morose attitude did nothing to ease my irritation. I wanted to yell at him that of course he failed with an attitude like that. But what good would my fussing do, other than make him feel worse and me feel even angrier?
“You've got to help me fix this,” I pleaded.
Skeeter pouted. “If I try, I'll fail at that, too.”
Somebody crashed into the counter, and some of the pink drink splashed on the floor between me and the cupid.
“Don't touch it,” he cried out.
His scared warning pricked my senses. “Why? Skeeter, what did you do to it?” The noise level rose to an unbearable cacophony. I risked my own safety and peered over the counter.
I popped up and did my best to babysit the pandemonium. “Stop that. Don't touch that. Definitely, none of that. Let's see some sunshine between the two of you.” I became a chaperone in a madhouse.
Off to the corner, I spotted my roommate hugging the wall. He made his way with careful steps toward the door.
“Beauregard Pepperpot. Get your hiney over here,” I ordered.
The older vampire poofed into a bat in his startled state and fluttered in our direction. When he made it behind the counter, he changed back into his body form.
“Why aren't you affected?” I eyed him with suspicion.
“Who? Me? I am. See?” He did a pirouette on his tiptoes.
Smacking him upside his head, I pulled him closer. “You are not. You didn't drink any of the lemonade, did you?”
He shook his head. “Not my kind of libation. But it seems to be going down well with everyone else.”
My hands gestured at the chaos around the room. “Going well? It's a disaster.”
“I failed again,” groused Skeeter.
I kicked the Cupid where he sat. “Enough of that out of you. We are the only ones who can do anything.”
“I was trying to do something. I was trying to escape,” Beau said, pointing at the door.
“You can't. Mason used his warden authority to lock us all in.”
Skeeter threw his hat on the floor. “A fitting end for a disgraced cupid. Death by love.”
“I have no intention of dying tonight. There must be something we can do. Let's check the back door,�
�� I implored.
Skeeter shook his head. “You go. I'm going to stay here and wallow.”
I rolled my eyes, but grabbed Beau’s hand and dragged him to the kitchen. If the cupid wasn't going to be part of the solution, then he was a part of the problem. Beau and I checked the back door. It wouldn't budge.
“No windows or nothing,” the vampire remarked. He glanced at an extra tray of red velvet cake pops. “If regular food tempted me, I’m sure I could finish these. They sure do look appealing.” He picked one up.
I knocked it out of his hand. “I wouldn't try. I'm pretty sure they're laced with something, too. If this night is any indicator of what else could go wrong.”
“Still, that Alison Kate is a mighty fine baker. The smells that come from the building are simply delectable whenever I pass.”
My doddering roommate was right. When the tooth fairies or Alison Kate were baking, the sweet scents enticed people to their store. Which meant that there had to be a vent or something for the smells to escape from.
I spotted the large hood over the gas burning stove. “Hey, Beau. Think you could fly up this and see if there is a way out?”
“But I'll get dirty.” He wrinkled his nose.
I pushed him toward the stove. “It's either that or someone else will take your place at the house.”
His eyes rimmed with pink tears. “You’re kicking me out?”
“No, you fool. If we die here, then Tipper’s house will go to someone else. And I'm guessing they won't ask you to stay there.”
He sniffed. “Point well made. And it's your house now.”
Shaking my head, I glanced at the darkened hole in the hood, hoping for our luck to change. “We don't have time to make distinctions. Now change into a bat and go.”
Beau did as I asked, and the bat squeaked and fluttered its way up the vent above the stove burners.
When he flew back down and returned to his form, he coughed profusely. “They need to do a serious cleaning.” Dark smudges covered his face.
“But can you get out?”
“I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“Just tell me.”
Beau dusted himself off. “Bad news is that there's a vent grill covering it.”
I groaned. “There can't be any good news after that. We’re stuck.”
He held up a finger. “Don't lose hope. The good news is that the metal is rusty. A side effect of existing in the Southern humidity. With a little force, I think I can force my way out.”
I kissed the old vampire on the cheek. “Brilliant. When you do make it out, go find Nana. And whatever you do, don't bring my brother back with you. He'll never let me hear the end of this.”
“Find your grandmother. Got it.” He nodded once and poofed into a bat again. Listening to his squeaks and the grating of metal on metal, I waited for him to return. When he didn't, I allowed myself to hope again.
Skeeter smashed that hope to smithereens when he flitted his way into the kitchen. “We've got even bigger problems.”
4
I fingered the piece of paper with a specific recipe on it I’d found on the floor while cleaning up and waiting for Beau to come through. “Oh, Ali Kat. What have you done?”
In her handwriting, she’d written directions on how to add a few extra ingredients to baked items in order to encourage love. It didn’t feel awesome to confirm my suspicions.
If she affected the baked goods and someone else snuck a love potion in the lemonade, then no wonder we teetered on the edge of disaster. And what if there were more ingredients slipped into the mix?
The kitchen door swung open with a crash. “You have got to figure out what to do.” Skeeter flitted around the kitchen, dipping up and down and knocking things off with a noisy clatter. “Don't you have fancy-schmancy powers or something?”
I set a whisk back on the nearby table. “Sometimes I can find things that are lost. But we’re talking about objects, not figuring out spells.”
“Well, just use those powers in reverse. Because at this point, we are going to become Love’s roadkill rather than its new fans.” Skeeter’s rather un-poetic statement conjured up an image of him being smooshed under a large truck tire.
Beau needed to be successful in finding my grandma. As the strongest witch in town and the one that sat in the high seat of the town council, she’d know exactly what to do.
Hiding in the kitchen to save my own skin wouldn't be one of the things she would endorse. It would be spiteful not to attempt to solve the situation before she ever arrived. And as Nana always said, an ounce of spite is worth a pound of unicorn manure. As bad as things were getting, we were knee-deep in it at this point.
My tracking powers wouldn’t do me much good standing in the kitchen. I snatched Skeeter out of the air and dragged him with me back to the front counter. Picking up the punch bowl, I tried hard to get a read on it.
Skeeter hovered behind me. “What are you, crazy or something? I told you not to let that stuff touch you.”
“I’m not sloshing it around. I'm trying to get a read from it. See if I can reverse the process and find the one responsible rather than using the person to find out who spiked it.” I ducked as something flew right by my head.
The failed cupid floated a few inches away from me. “Don't say I didn't warn you.”
Usually, I needed some quiet and a bit of time to concentrate to tap into my core of energy. With the cacophony of chaos around me, getting any quiet would be impossible.
I shut my eyes and did my best to concentrate, adding a rhyme like I used to when I needed the extra focus. “Block the chaos and all my stress. Help me find who made this mess.”
A burst of energy poured out of me in several directions, and I waited. Nothing. No line of connection. No spellwork to tether me to the culprit and pull me towards them.
Ducking back behind the counter, I panicked. “It's not working. I think it's because I'm holding the bowl and not touching the lemonade itself.”
Skeeter shook his finger at me. “But if you touch the liquid, I can't be held responsible for what might happen to you.”
I stared at the pink concoction and weighed my options. “Frosted fairy wings, what else can I do?”
“You said that you usually use the person to find an object, right?” Skeeter asked.
“Oh no,” I groaned. The mosquito of a cupid had a point. My powers left me only one more option. I had to venture into the main room and try touching folks to see who tampered with the lemonade.
“Wait a minute.” Skeeter rushed back into the kitchen.
“Coward,” I cried out.
He surprised me when he returned, holding a metal mixing bowl. “What's that for?”
“Your head. You're going into battle, you might as well try to protect your noggin.” He held out the shiny metal bowl.
See, it was that kind of charming stupidity that had made me want to help the pitiful cupid in the first place. What could I say, I was a sucker for other suckers.
I accepted Skeeter’s offering and surveyed the battlefield. Couples flung each other about in a wild dance. It broke my heart to see Alison Kate and Lily with the wrong guys. But I had bigger fish to fry, and I couldn't let my personal feelings get in the way. Juniper whizzed by my head, her dark green trail sparkling behind her. Horatio destroyed everything in his path, attempting to grab the fairy out of the air.
“Me like pretty flying thing.” He giggled, which in any other circumstance might seem comical.
But the troll’s regression to a more primal version of himself scared me. What would happen if someone in the room upset him? Then we'd all be in terrible danger.
Placing the mixing bowl on top of my head, I gave a weak salute to Skeeter. “Wish me luck.”
Jumping over the counter, I crouched down and made my way around the room as plastered to the wall and out of the way as possible. With my guess about the red velvet cake pops, I decided to test my ta
lents with my friend first. Approaching Alison Kate, I took her hand out of Ben's grasp. Neither of my friends seemed too pleased.
“What do you think you're doing?” Ben frowned at me, his eyes vacant of real comprehension.
“Sorry, but I need to borrow her for a second. Why don't you go dance with Lily?” I pushed him toward the right girl.
He scrunched his face up. “She is no fun. I want someone who is a laugh.”
I turned my back on him and reached for Alison Kate's second hand, concentrating on her. A crash nearby made it almost impossible.
Needing to come up with another quick spell to focus my powers, I did my best. “Give my powers a little shove. Find who cast a spell for love.”
A pink glowing string of connection extended between my friend and the platter of red velvet cake pops. Even though I was the only one who could detect the link, it fueled my hope. “Gotcha, Ali Kat.”
Alison Kate blinked at me. Scolding her now wouldn't do any good. Whatever spell she was under, she might not even remember in the long run. And I was running out of time.
Ben returned to her side, with Lee in tow. “See? She's trying to keep us apart.”
The vacant look on Lee's face confirmed how affected he was. Separating him from Lily, I held Lee's hands against his protests. I repeated the same spell to help me concentrate and waited.
A thin pink line glowed between Lee and the punch bowl. “Leland Chalmers, Jr., what did you put in the lemonade?”
He produced a flask from his back pocket, and I did my best not to shutter at one of my late great uncle’s possessions. “A little moonshine never hurt anybody.”
Had my friend been in his right mind, I'd be the last person he’d say those words to. The urge to punch him rose in my chest, but the urgency of the situation kept my head cooled. “You spiked the drink?”
He nodded, unscrewing the cap on the flask and pouring a little bit more liquid into his red plastic cup. “Wasn't all me neither. Dash brought it here, although I think he had more reason to come than this.” Lee wiggled his eyebrows at me.
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