Haunting Blend

by Layne, Kennedy

  Leo had been in midstride in his hunting progress when Beetle’s exclamation echoed throughout the shop. The potential ending to this situation was not going to be pleasant, and Leo’s stalking was going to turn into a full-on attack with expanded claws and open maw that could tear out Beetle’s Achilles tendon with ease.

  Leo’s left lid began to bulge more than usual.

  I did the only thing I could, hoping that it didn’t result in me going to the hospital for stitches. Within seconds, I found myself in between the two and closing one eye as I waited for Leo’s claws to become embedded in my calf.

  “My dear Raven, you have a very big heart,” Beetle whispered in praise, finally releasing his jacket to pat me on the shoulder. “Everyone needs a home, and that sweet furball should have all the catnip in the world after what he’s probably gone through. Now, I’ll stop in tomorrow for my first lesson before I have to get to my office. April sixteenth will be my official start date, if that’s alright. Isn’t this just grand? Just grand, I tell you.”

  And as simple as that, I had a new part-time employee.

  Beetle took his leave, but not before walking past Leo and giving him two pats on the head. It was mighty obvious that Leo wasn’t sure how to react to Beetle’s offer of kindness. On one hand, I’m sure the catnip comment made him want to have Beetle starting later today, but the man’s immediate reaction to Leo’s appearance had definitely been a rough start.

  “Leo?” I asked tentatively, stepping forward when he hadn’t moved a muscle. I mean, not even his whiskers were twitching. Had just the mere thought of Beetle working here sent Leo into a catatonic state? “I’m sure we can figure out a way to fix this. We can—”

  You’ll do no such thing. Did you not hear the man? I’m entitled to all the catnip in the world. He’s hired. Sure, there are more cons than pros in hiring Beetle for a couple of hours a day, but I think I can handle the tradeoff. With enough premium catnip in my pipe, I won’t care who you hire.

  Leo’s self-indulgence was taking a front seat, but at least the situation hadn’t ended with either Beetle or me needing first aid or a prosthetic limb.

  I highly doubted Leo’s concession would last. One hour with Beetle tomorrow would certainly change his mind, and most likely mine. That was if there was a tomorrow given my recent declaration of war.

  “We’ll figure the Beetle situation out tomorrow,” I muttered, moving on to more important things. The more time that passed, the more I recognized the danger I’d put us in by issuing an ultimatum to a coven of powerful witches. “Right now, we have to figure out a way to keep from us from dying before midnight.”

  Not to rub your nose in it, but whose fault is that exactly?

  Chapter Twelve

  This is it. The Windsor coven has struck, and boy…is it a low blow from a sector I never would have guessed they’d come at us from. Is this the sight we’ve been cursed with for the rest of our lives? Gouge my eyes out now. Go ahead.

  This sight Leo was referring to was my mother standing on my doorstep in her battle uniform—a form fitting black leather jacket that appeared to be lined in red fleece, black knee-high boots that made me think twice about ever wearing my favorite pair again, and matching black leather pants that I would never have been able to get over my thighs with a can of lard.

  “Mom?” It took me a moment to formulate my question, so I stepped back to let her inside the warmth of the cottage. A flurry or two decided to join me, but they didn’t last long once they hit the hardwood floor. “Did you leave your Harley at the train station? What do you think you’re doing?”

  I should have asked specifically why my mother had felt compelled to suddenly come to Paramour Bay, followed by why she was dressed like a biker who’d just robbed a high-end leather store. Instead, I rubbed my eyes with my fingers. Leo’s suggestion of a curse began to make more sense than anything else going through my mind.

  It was completely possible the council had driven me mad.

  I tried blinking. It’s useless. Regina is still there…looking like something out of Easy Rider. By the way, I’ve read the original screenplay and found it very stimulating…freedom of the road and all that. Five stars. Hands down an American classic.

  “After the mess you’ve gotten yourself into, we’re going to need to be proactive.” My mother gestured toward my peacock-colored skirt and emerald green turtleneck before she began to take off her black leathered gloves one finger at a time. “Go change. We don’t have all night, and the drive to Windsor will cost us an hour we don’t have.”

  Windsor? Is there no end to this black void that has become my life?

  “Leo, you’re coming with us. Pack your pipe.”

  Over my dead—

  My mother arched an eyebrow and directed her somewhat daring gaze Leo’s way. I’ve never seen him back down from anyone, but he wisely didn’t finish his vow of death before breaking a sweat speech. To cover up his capitulation, he began to clean his front right paw somewhat distractedly.

  I wouldn’t allow you to take Raven up there without me, anyway.

  “Mom, we cannot go up against a full coven of witches. Not on their ground,” I protested, recognizing just how much I’d gotten us in over our heads. I mean, my mother drove all the way from New York City to fix what I’d stirred up, even though she’d given up witchcraft when she was pregnant with me. This certainly wasn’t one of my finer moments. “The council members aren’t going to return Strifle without a fight, and there’s not a thing I can do about it. I should be grateful they haven’t turned me into a toad already. I’d say our prospects are about the same as a snowball’s chance in Hades.”

  “Leo, what have you been putting into my daughter’s head?” Regina chastised, slapping the leather gloves against her hand with a frown. “I’m pretty sure that’s just a witch’s tale passed down from generation to generation. Nobody is going to end up as a toad.”

  It’s always better to be safe than sorry. One doesn’t need to be a Boy Scout to figure that one out.

  “Pretty sure?” I repeated, not willing to take any chances. “Look, maybe I should do another astroplane evocation to offer my sincere apologies and plead for mercy.”

  “Raven, the damage is done. Apologies aren’t going to be offered to anyone. Look, we can argue about this on the way.” Regina tapped her watch numerous times to make her point. “Go change into something more suitable for a nighttime mission in cold weather.”

  “Suitable for what? What is it that you’re thinking we can do? Are we going to be inserted into that fortress by parachute?” I had almost been afraid to ask that question, but I’d already gotten us in a boiling pot of hot water without thinking or being prepared. “Are we going to go talk to the council? I’m still thinking a heartfelt apology would go a long way. We can say it was due to my inexperience as a novice. We can even add on that I didn’t understand who they were or what they represented.”

  “Suitable for breaking and entering, and maybe some rough terrain,” my mother answered rather vaguely, looking down at her dark clothing. “We’re sneaking into the coven’s temple to retrieve Strifle, casting a spell that will erase every trace of our presence, and returning here to Paramour Bay where Mazie can collect her familiar for its journey.”

  I told you calling your mother was a bad idea. She’s been playing too much Battlefield 3.

  “Mom, are you crazy?”

  You really need to ask that question aloud after she explained her plan?

  “I’m of perfect sound, mind, and body, thank you,” Regina replied with dignity before waving her gloves at me. “You said on the phone that you believe the council members are the ones who took Strifle. There’s only one place in that town with enough concentrated power to entrap a fairy, so that’s where we look first. Now get a move on. I don’t have all night to get there and search for this missing Tinkerbell lookalike.”

  Whatever it is you’re thinking, Raven, we need to reconsider our options.
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  “What if Mom’s right?” I asked Leo, seriously considering changing into a black pair of jeans and a dark winter coat before following her lead. “I mean, we could have Strifle returned to Mazie before midnight tonight.”

  Who, by the way, hasn’t paid us a visit recently. Do you think that’s a coincidence?

  “Currently, there’s been no curse placed upon this house,” my mother interjected in her attempt to downplay Leo’s concern. “You started a war, Raven. We need to end it before there is one.”

  I completely forgot how ruthless your mother can be. Maybe she’s on to something here.

  Leo was right. My mother had always been rather spiteful, and I hadn’t been sure she’d come to help me out of this bothersome situation I’d found myself in. It did cross my mind that she was doing this for more personal reasons. Either way, she’d already made up her mind. She was going to go with or without me, and I didn’t want to be responsible of the latter without making darn sure her six was covered.

  Not even your mother is a match for the council, Raven. She’s driving us off to our deaths. Not even my premium catnip can make this trip a winning proposition.

  I didn’t have a pair of leather pants, but I did own a pair of black jeans and matching turtleneck. I quickly made my way up to the bedroom loft, changed into clothes more suitable for the unbelievable task we were about to stumble into, and secured my hair on top of my head with a black hairband.

  “Mom, should we bring any ingredients?” I called down, wondering what herbs and roots I had on hand. “I can ask Ted for anything I don’t have.”

  “We won’t need ingredients, Raven.”

  There’s nothing in the supernatural realm that can save us from our own stupidity.

  I didn’t say anything as I came down the spiral staircase, believing that Mom would explain why we didn’t need to take any components listed from the grimoire with us. Mom remained silent, but she was tapping the toe of her boot in an obvious sign of impatience by the time I’d rejoined her.

  It’s an annoying habit, isn’t it?

  “What do you mean we won’t need ingredients?” What had I missed? Even the simplest magic missile spell required a bit of charcoal as a type of earthly material component. “Mom, you haven’t practiced witchcraft in over thirty years. Well, besides one here and there that I’m sure you did when I was a child. And you totally faked the spell at the wax museum a couple of weeks ago.”

  Please don’t go there. I can only handle so much before the stress puts me six feet under.

  “Did I?” My mother’s perfectly shaped eyebrow raised once more, the small gesture causing my stomach to sink a bit lower. I didn’t even have time to brace myself for her announcement, nor when she shoved my black dress coat into my chest along with what looked like a wool watch cap. “I spent twenty-three years under your grandmother’s tutelage. I was casting spells at four years old, better than the way you are now, and doing so a lot more efficiently by the age of ten. Those are lessons that one doesn’t forget easily, Raven. The more you practice the craft, the more energy you can draw from the earth. Components of the earth are used for two reasons—either by novices or by certain spells that are too complex for a hedge witch’s innate power. You’re a novice.”

  You just had to go there. Regina, could we shelf this discussion for another time?

  “No, she can’t,” I responded with irritation, wondering when Leo had been going to clue me in on this little-known witchcraft fact. “Mom, what about all the herbal teas that Nan made for her customers?”

  Can I call shotgun?

  Leo wasn’t with us, with us. He’d vanished before we left the house, but his presence was nonetheless there to offer his two cents. And there was no way I was giving up riding in the passenger seat since only the two front seats were heated. Leo’s fur would just have to do its job in the back.

  I’m being railroaded. The least you could do is let me ride in comfort. I did call dibs.

  “The herbal remedies your grandmother crafted are different types of spells. They are what we refer to as hedge witchcraft or simple remedies which happens to contain a small amount of magic.” My mom opened the front door, barely giving me time to grab my purse when she all but ushered me out of the house. The bitter cold slammed into me instantly, taking with it my breath. “Evocations harness the power of elements that involve health. They have most always been ingested since the dawn of mankind. That’s not likely to change, although there have been instances where a witch can heal with the simplest of touches using enchantments cast on items or the laying on of hands. And before you ask, your grandmother didn’t have that gift.”

  “So, you’re saying that the Marigolds do have a gift, and not just hedge witchcraft.”

  This again? I’m not sure I can ride with the two of you. How about I just meet you there?

  I was quite pleased with how this conversation was turning out, because my mother and I have argued since Nan’s death about what witchcraft meant to our family. It hadn’t taken me long to slip my hands through the arms of my heavy wool jacket as we continued to make our way down the pathway to the gate. It appeared we were taking her vehicle instead of mine, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. She had a brand-new model with heated leather seats that she refused to part with once she’d experienced them.

  “Healing is a specific type of gift,” my mother corrected, opening the gate and wincing when a squeak rang out that most likely reached downtown. She stepped to the side to let me pass, not stopping her explanation of why she was right and I was wrong. “Being just an average witch is a curse.”

  “That makes no sense,” I argued, only stopping when headlights turned off the main road out of town and down the gravel path to park behind my mother’s vehicle. Who could be visiting me this evening? “Uh-oh.”

  The vehicle turned out to be a black F150, and one I’d personally ridden in.

  Sheriff Liam Drake.

  The beatings just keep coming, don’t they?

  Even though Liam and I had already shared a date and one hot kiss that practically melted my—

  Could we please keep things rated PG, please? I can hear every word.

  I hadn’t been going to say whatever Leo’s mind had dredged up—the gutter, obviously. I’d been going to say that Liam had practically melted my lipstick off that night. Even so, I hadn’t expected to see him until our date on Friday evening. He was supposed to be out of town at some law enforcement convention.

  Well, it’s obvious he decided to skip out of said convention. Oh, well. We gave it the good old gung ho try. It looks like we’ll have to stay home, after all. I’ll meet the two of you back inside once you’ve driven off Mister Lipstick Melter.

  “Not a chance,” my mother muttered underneath her breath, giving a wiggle of her fingers that she had recovered with her gloves. “Raven, get rid of him. Now.”

  Or not. You don’t want to ruin your chances with a man of his obvious talents, now do you? I vote for postponing our trip to the coven indefinitely. Who knows, we might not even need to go by then.

  Liam opened the door to his truck, keeping the engine running. He was wearing a brown suede jacket that framed his shoulders perfectly, and matching cowboy boots that landed in the snow with a thud.

  Who would have thought I’d ever fancy a man wearing a worn old pair of cowboy boots?

  Not me. Oh. That was one of those rhetorical questions, wasn’t it?

  “Ms. Marigold, it’s nice to see you again,” Liam greeted my mother, his gaze taking in our black outfits. His follow up response wasn’t a surprise. “Raven? Is everything okay here?”

  It took me a moment to realize that both my mother and I looked either ready to attend a party hosted by Goths—trust me, it was plausible given my mother’s dark lipstick—or we were on our way to rob a bank.

  “Yes, yes,” I responded, sounding more and more like Beetle ever since he’d hired himself. I cleared my throat, attempting to throw the q
uestion back his way instead of actually providing an answer. “And you? Did something happen at the convention to cause you to leave and return home early?”

  “It’s a long story.” Liam cocked his head slightly to the side, presumably waiting to see if I’d offer up more information as to why I was clutching a woolen watch cap in my hand. “I’m sorry. I should have called before stopping over, but I wanted to see how Leo was doing before driving home.”

  Oh, Liam was racking up the points left and right. My heart warmed at his thoughtfulness, and I couldn’t stop the smile from blossoming on my face.

  I’ll give him a full point for that one. That was pretty sly, throwing me in as an excuse to see you. Maybe I didn’t give the man enough credit. Our local sheriff is secretly a stud muffin.

  “I also have Dr. Jameson’s number, should it turn out that you need it.”

  Point lost. Back to zero. I hate needles.

  “That’s so sweet of you, Liam.” How did I go about sending Liam on his way when all I wanted to do was ship my mother back to the city, ignore the war I might have started with my ultimatum, and invite him in for some coffee? “We’re, um, we’re just—”

  “Heading out,” my mother chimed in, holding up her keys as if that was some type of proof of our intent. “We’ve got somewhere to be.”

  “Has something happened?” Liam asked, concern written all over his handsome features.

  Oh, it was becoming harder and harder to lie to him. Being the most terrible liar that I am, it was best to stick as close to the truth as possible.

  “We need to go find…a missing family pet.”

  I swear, sometimes I don’t know where you come up with this stuff.

  The point being was that my explanation was the truth…stretched as it may be. I never, ever wanted to lie to Liam. That was not the way to start a relationship. Not that we had one. I mean, we were just dating. And that was not to say I didn’t want something more serious when the time came, but these things shouldn’t be rushed. Right?