by Bella Falls
Lee took off his glasses and wiped his hand down his face. “I’m having nightmarish flashbacks to primary school.”
A commotion at the front of the stage interrupted the evening’s proceedings. After much grumbling and shouting, a familiar figure limped its way onto the stage.
“I object,” a raspy voice rattled into the air. “We must stop all of this nonsense.” The figure waved a thick cane at the audience. My grandmother, along with Aunt Nora and Hollis Hawthorne, rushed into action toward the crooked body interrupting the speeches.
“Who is that? Dash asked, covering his nose with his hand to block out the smell that had settled over all of us.
“Old Mrs. K,” replied most of my gang at the same time.
“Mrs. Kettlefields taught us in primary school. Loved to hear the sound of her own voice droning on and on,” added Ben.
“Beat you with a ruler if that voice put you to sleep,” said Lee, rubbing the back of his hand in memory.
“That's because you snored,” teased Alison Kate.
The crowd in front of the gazebo stage murmured in disbelief, and we watched the three council members attempt to remove our former teacher. With more strength then anyone would give her credit for, she pushed them off.
“I will have my say, or I will curse you all,” she threatened.
“She wouldn't do that, would she?” Blythe asked, gawking at the spectacle.
“There's no telling how many bats she has in her attic now,” I said, tapping my head. “Remember, we all used to think she was a bit touched in the head back in the day. It's been many moons since then.”
The old lady, with desperation in her eyes, pleaded with the town. “If we go through with this election, it shall spell our doom.”
Chapter Three
“For over two hundred years, our small town has been working just fine. Everybody knew everybody else, and we took care of our own. Now, we've got more people here than you can shake a broom at, and the more we add, the more problems we've been getting. Consider the cause of Tipper Walker’s death. Was it one of our own that caused his demise? No, it wasn't. It was an outsider, and we don't need no outsiders messin’ up our community.” Mrs. Kettlefields paused and shook her cane to punctuate her point, sweat dripping down her temples, her eyes widening with fevered passion. She clutched her chest, gasping for air, and glanced with suspicion at the people gathering around her on stage.
“That doesn't sound like Mrs. K at all,” commented Ben. “Wasn't she the one who lectured us again and again on the founding of our town?”
Lee chimed in. “Don't think I haven't forgotten that she made you dress up like a girl for the play she’d written about the town founding.” He flashed a mischievous smile at his friend. “You were so pretty.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ben has a point. This sounds nothing like her. If ever there was someone with great pride in our town, it was Mrs. K.”
“Sounds like she’s lost her marbles in Fairyland,” Blythe offered.
“And you know what my Memaw says,” Alison Kate added. “A crazy witch is a dangerous witch.”
“And one that needs to be contained,” I agreed.
No one understood that sentiment more than me. Due to my great-uncle’s faculties not being all there, even though some of his problems may have been induced by the potions that Ashton had given him over time, I'd almost perished because of his spellcasting misfire. After the fact, many people commented that Tipper should have had his powers restrained. The way that Aunt Nora and Hollis glared at Mrs. K suggested that either one might conjure up a large butterfly net to capture her at any second.
Dash spoke in a low voice. “So, you would lock up an old woman like that?”
“Not necessarily. But containing her powers might be important if she's lost her faculties. Why? What would you do with someone like her in your pack?”
“You don't want to know,” the shifter’s deep voice rumbled.
“I think I can handle it.”
“Remember that after I've told you.” The wolf shifter sighed but kept his voice low, leaning his body against mine as he answered my question. “When I was little, we had an old woman who the pack still cared for even though she’d lost her entire family over time. It takes a long time for shifters to grow old, so there's no telling exactly what her age was. But she got worse and worse every year, shifting out of control and hunting too close to civilians. My mom did her best to try and keep the woman from harming others and herself, but eventually, my father didn't want to put up with her anymore.” Dash paused in his story long.
Although my gut told me I didn't want the answer, I still asked the question. “What happened to her?”
“My mom stopped our outings to take the woman supplies. Because the need to take care of her ceased to exist.” That was all Dash would give me, and I knew he was done sharing. The shifter life that he revealed to me piece by piece both enamored and scared me. Which was probably his ultimate goal to keep me from getting too close.
A couple of people who worked at the retirement home joined my grandmother on stage, surrounding Mrs. K. The former teacher bent her crooked body forward, her eyes darting side to side like a cornered animal.
Her incessant ranting never stopped. “And another thing. This newer generation ain't much better, despite what I taught them. You got the young Lee Chalmers’ son messing about with human technology, which has no business mixing with magic in the first place. And then there's Charlotte Goodwin, who's been a handful since she was little, catchin’ a death curse and almost dyin’. It's all too much. No more change. We can’t handle it.”
The group of people closed ranks around her and inched forward with their arms out. A hush fell over all of us as we waited for the capture of Mrs. K. The old woman straightened up and touched her head in despair, a keening sound bursting from her lips.
My grandmother stopped the others and approached from the side. “Eugenia, why don't you follow me and come get some sweet tea. I think you’re overtired and overheated.”
The poor woman nodded and followed my grandmother, muttering in confusion and shaking her head.
“Well, who knew an election could be so dramatic? And look at you, getting a personal shout-out.” Dash brushed his finger down my arm.
“I don't think anyone expected it to go that way,” I said, keeping my eyes forward and trying to ignore the path of flames his touch left behind.
Hollis approached the center of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your patience and your kind consideration. I think with a little more effort, we can finish introducing the candidates tonight and get to the desserts that you fine folk have provided. So how about we have a round of applause for those candidates who have already presented?”
Moving aside, Hollis gave way to Flint and let the gnome take center stage. With everyone still shaken from Mrs. K's interruptions, it took a few moments for everyone to truly hear Flint's speech. But after a quick rundown of his duties in Honeysuckle as a gate guard at our borders, he garnered the attention of most of the citizens.
“If elected, I will continue to strive to keep Honeysuckle the safe haven that it has always been for any magical beings that choose to live here. It has done me and mine no end of goodness, and with the new addition to our family, I will strive to make our town the best place for my offspring to grow up in. Thank you.”
An entire unicorn could have leaped into my gaping mouth. “Did he just tell us what I think he told us?”
Alison Kate hugged Lee in glee, and Blythe smiled with pure joy. “Pretty sure he just announced that our friend Goss is with child.”
“No wonder she was a nervous wreck backstage,” I commented. But I had completely missed the clues.
“I guess you can't solve every mystery,” joked Dash, poking my rib with his elbow.
The gnome blushed with the cheers of congratulations and waved to the side at his wife who sprinkled pink fairy dust on everyone close to h
er, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. I'd have to give her a big squeeze after the last speech.
“Is it over?” asked Dash.
“I wish,” I muttered, pointing to Raif approaching the center with grave solemnity.
The vampire spoke in his clipped British accent and delivered a speech that had more polish and finesse than the others’ combined. Aunt Nora and Hollis nodded their heads in absolute agreement to every point that Raif stated, especially when he talked about bringing in more people from the outside world and expanding the options of our lives here in Honeysuckle Hollow.
On a scale from one to ten, one being Mrs. K’s shared rant about change and ten being blowing up the entire town and starting from scratch, Raif landed at a solid seven. His ideas were progressive and controversial, pushing the expectations of most of the town’s citizens. But his presentation, his presence, and the clear support he garnered from the other council members would make him a hard opponent to beat. His speech lasted longer than the others, and I grew bored. Alison Kate and Lee excused themselves as they scooted around me.
“I’ve got to go help Sprinkle and Twinkle set up some of the desserts,” she whispered in a low voice.
“You need help? Oh, sure.” I volunteered my help to escape, and found the rest of my group, including Dash, heading over to the nearby picnic tables lined with all kinds of sweets and goodies. Raif’s voice echoed around us, but we ignored him, helping the two retired tooth fairies arrange the desserts by color rather than type just for fun.
After a generous round of applause for the vampire candidate and some final words from my grandmother, a mass of people rushed toward the tables to stuff their faces. Nana understood that it wasn't their consciences or the rational need to weigh and balance who might be the best candidate to vote for that filled the park. The promise to fill their stomachs with good food would always act as the best motivator.
“I think I'm gonna head out.” Dash touched my arm.
I reached up and brushed a smear of frosting from his upper lip and whiskers. “Had enough?”
His eyes burned into me. “I’ve barely gotten started.” He gripped my wrist in his hand and captured my thumb in his mouth, licking the frosting off of it. Warm tingles shot down to my belly, and I barely contained the shiver that shuddered my body. “I’d be happy to remain here and walk you home when you’re ready,” the shifter offered.
I swallowed hard. “I-I think I might stay and take Nana home. She's had a hard night.” Pixie poop. Why did I have to go and utter the truth? Next time a good-looking man asked to escort me home, I needed to say yes, no matter what.
“As you wish.” Dash winked and left.
“Phew, that man sure is a handful,” Blythe said, riling me up.
“More like a mouthful if you ask Charli and her thumb,” Lily added, her eyes twinkling at me.
The heat from my cheeks could melt the ice cream on top of my slice of pecan pie. “Shut up.”
Lavender opened her mouth to tell everyone what color my aura was, but I held up a hand at her in warning. “Don't you dare.”
“I wasn't. I was going to point out that the detective is heading your way. He’s been standing there, watching you for a bit.” She pointed behind me, and I turned.
Mason strode straight for me, a grimace on his face. Whatever he was working on, it couldn't be good. The prospect of helping him again sent a zing of excitement through me. It had been a long time since he'd asked me for anything, and I was beginning to wonder if he'd forgotten where I lived.
“Detective Clairmont, I didn't know you were here tonight,” I joked, using formality to break the chilly distance between us.
“Isn't everybody?” he replied in a stern voice, keeping that wall of ice firmly in place.
“For the most part,” I agreed. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes. Follow me.” He didn't even meet my gaze when he spoke, and gave me no option to refuse, turning around and stomping back the way he'd come. I followed behind like an obedient puppy, hoping for him to throw me some scraps so I might grab a clue about where the two of us stood.
“Mason, slow down,” I cried out.
“Hurry up,” he insisted, not lagging for a second. He led the way to an area in between the gazebo stage and the desserts.
A loud British voice chastised some unlucky target. “You are completely useless.”
“I’m sorry, Raif,” my roommate Beau apologized. He bowed his head in submission to the other vampire.
“Sorry doesn't make up for what you've done.” Raif’s nose pointed higher in the air than ever.
As I approached, I spotted pink tears forming in Beau's eyes. Nobody talked to my roommate that way, and I broke away from Mason to support my friend. “What's going on?”
“Oh, good. The detective found you.” Raif thrust a finger in Beau’s face. “This moron lost my precious pug.”
Mason joined the fray. “I think the situation requires a sense of calm and not accusations. I'm sure that Charli here can help find your dog.”
“I didn't do anything,” sniffled Beau. “I held onto the leash as you asked me to. He was by my side throughout the entire event. Except…”
“Except when?” Raif stepped closer to my roommate, seething. “When did my precious baby disappear?”
“There was so much commotion when the speeches were interrupted by Eugenia. And once that was all over, it took me a few minutes to figure out that Sir Barklay had worked his way out of his collar.” The pudgy vampire held up the sparkling leather collar attached to a leash.
“Are those real diamonds?” I asked in surprise.
Raif snatched the collar and leash away from Beau. “That's none of your business. I want you to do whatever it is you do to find my sweet boy. Now.”
“Whatever is the commotion here?” The man who I'd run into before the speeches approached us. “Raif, you look positively pale, and that's saying something about a fellow vampire.” He clapped his friend on the back.
“My pug. He's gone,” whined Raif.
“Oh, dear. Perhaps we should form a search party. I would be happy to help organize the effort,” offered the newcomer.
“That's quite all right.” Raif took a slight step away. “The detective here has already enlisted Charlotte's help in finding my Barklay.”
The complete change in the snooty vampire’s demeanor and speech floored me. Two seconds ago, he was a raving lunatic, distraught and inconsolable. Now he spoke with such deep emotion that I almost felt sorry for him.
“And what is it that Miss Charlotte can do for you?” the fellow vampire asked.
“I find things, Mr.—”
“Mallory. Damien Mallory. Longtime friend of Raif here and his current guest for the time being. I would like to see these talents of yours at work, Miss Charlotte.” His focus on me and not his friend’s dog perked my interest.
Raif shot me a look of frustration, and my annoyance with him returned. It was too bad that Lady Eveline had chosen this specific time to travel to Europe to visit with friends. Usually, she could appease Raif and ease his moods. But maybe she’d left when she did in order to avoid dealing with him while he ran for the council seat.
If I could refuse him, I would. But I took pity on him for missing his dog. If anyone had messed with my Peaches, I'd be in a similar state.
With a sigh, I acquiesced. “Here. Give me your hand.” I extended mine and waited for the cold touch of the tall vampire.
Raif placed his hand in mine with reluctance, probably wishing he could do anything else but touch someone he deemed less than him.
“Concentrate on what it is you want to find,” I instructed.
The vampire candidate closed his eyes and repeated his pug’s name over and over.
Concentrating, I gathered my powers and focused them in my center. I waited for an image to present itself. Nothing. Clearing my throat, I whispered under my breath, “Even though he’s awfully smug, h
elp me find his precious pug.”
Still nothing. Not even a thin line of glowing connection. Sweat broke out on my brow, and I opened one eye to find everyone staring at me.
“Did you get anything?” Mason asked.
Shaking my head, I admitted the truth. “No.”
Raif snatched his hand out of mine. “I knew it. I knew she wouldn't help me. You think I didn't see you and your friends leave the audience early during my speech? I thought this town was all about politeness, and yet you dare to hold back with me? Not even willing to help when a precious baby is involved.”
Damien attempted to console Raif, but his friend shrugged off his embrace. “I think it's premature to accuse young Charlotte of not helping you. Perhaps it will take something more.”
“Or maybe he can find his dog on his own,” I shot back at him. “I don't hold back, Raif. I'm not the one who discriminates.”
My blood boiled, and I debated standing my ground and taking on the insufferable fool or storming off. Mason offered no help in the situation despite my pleading gaze at him. Beau spoke up in my defense, but his low trembling voice couldn't be heard over all the yelling.
My brother approached us, waving his hands. “I think I have something here that belongs to you.” He moved to the side and revealed Mrs. Kettlefields standing behind him.
The old woman held the vampire’s pug in her arms. “This sweet boy was running around the tables and I caught him. Young Mr. Goodwin here says he belongs to you. But I found him and he has no collar.” She grasped the pooch with firm hands, the little dog whimpering at her touch.
“That's my sweetums,” insisted Raif. He stormed toward the elderly witch and snatched his pet from her hands. “I suppose you took him on purpose. Part of your plan to throw off the election.”
I shook my head. “Beau already told you that Barklay disappeared while she was on stage, so she didn't snatch your precious pug. She found him for you, so you better thank her, not accuse her.”
“His name is Sir Barklay.” Raif shut his mouth, refusing to offer any gratitude.