by Amy Boyles
“I doubt it.” Amelia whipped her head toward Betty. “Let me see him first.”
“No.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“I said no.” She rapped her knuckles on the table. “If this is a bet, we all go in blind. I win and you go out with a new man I’ve picked for you, but you can’t see him or know anything about him first.”
Betty was basically declaring all-out war on the situation. To say she wanted to set Amelia up with a man was one thing. And let’s not forget the mishap that occurred when Betty set Amelia up with a man. Betty fussed up Amelia’s picture so much she looked like Farrah Fawcett—seventies hair and all. So there was no telling what sort of guy Betty had found for Amelia this time.
“If this guy is desperate enough to turn to Betty for a date, I already know I won’t like him,” Amelia grumbled.
Cordelia knuckled tears from her eyes. “He might be perfect, cuz. Come on. You’re a sweet tea witch, and we witches aren’t afraid of anything.”
“Except Betty with a credit card.” Amelia folded her arms and narrowed her gaze.
“Why’s that?” I said. Who needed a credit card in Magnolia Cove? What you couldn’t buy, you made.
Cordelia smiled mysteriously. “Last time Betty had a credit card, she accidentally ordered a llama from the Internet.”
I glanced at Betty. “You’re kidding.”
Betty pulled out her corncob pipe and packed the tobacco with her finger. “I prefer to forget my indiscretions.”
Cordelia’s brow curved into a question mark. “Don’t we all wish we were so lucky?”
I clapped my hands. Time to get us back on track. “So if Betty wins, Amelia goes on a date with a man of Betty’s choosing. Everyone in agreement?” My gaze bobbed around the room. My family nodded.
“Okay then.” I opened my arms. “If Betty loses, what happens?”
Amelia nibbled her bottom lip. “Betty should have to publicly declare we’re superior witches to her.”
Cordelia laughed. “Dream on.”
I clapped my hands. “I’ve got it! If Betty loses, she will have to tell us the secret spell.”
Cordelia and Amelia gasped.
“Yes,” Cordelia yelled.
“I’m so there,” Amelia said. “Oh, the secret spell! Yes, Betty will have to reveal how to work the secret spell.”
The secret spell was one that could change a person’s mind about almost anything. It wasn’t to be used lightly, and it certainly wasn’t to be used to trick a person into doing what you wanted if that something was bad for that person.
Say you had a crush on a guy. Well, you couldn’t simply use the spell to convince him to like you, because that went against certain laws of good magic.
The secret spell could be used in a dire situation to convince someone not to harm you, for instance. But there were rules.
Betty chewed on the end of the pipe. “You can’t use it any more than once a year.”
“We know,” Cordelia said. “That’s why you’ve never given us the spell before.”
“Yeah,” Amelia added. “You said there was no point in knowing it if we could only use it once a year.”
“And I said it for good reason, kid,” Betty said.
I quirked a brow. “Well? What do you think? You like those terms?”
Betty glared at me. She hated the terms. I almost laughed. But if she wanted Amelia to date this mysterious guy, she’d have to surrender to what we wanted.
Betty spat in her palm and extended it. “I accept the terms. Witch’s honor.”
My cousins spat in their palms. I did the same and extended my hand. A blue flame swelled from the middle of our circle and plumed to the ceiling before disappearing.
Betty cocked one eye wide. “The deal is struck, girls. There won’t be another murder in Magnolia Cove for some time. If there is, I will teach you the secret spell. If there isn’t, then Amelia has to date a man of my choosing.”
I swear Betty was about to rub her hands with glee. She might even don a black hood and offer one of us a poisoned apple.
Yes, she reminded me that much of a wicked witch.
“What’s the timeline?” Amelia said.
Cordelia cocked her chin. “Yeah. We didn’t say.”
“One month.” Betty pointed at the fire. “The hearth fire will keep us honest.”
The fire blazed and crackled in response.
I folded my arms. “Seems fair.” I winked at my cousins. “Besides, the three of us know someone will die way before then.”
Betty scowled but said nothing.
Amelia blew our grandmother a kiss. “For good luck. You’ll need it the way murders happen in this town.”
“I don’t need luck, kid.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, we know. You run this town. At least unofficially.”
A knock sounded from the front door. Betty pushed up from the table. “Someone’s come to give early congratulations to you on your match made in heaven, Amelia.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
Betty flicked a hand, and the door opened before she reached it. Garrick Young removed his wide-brimmed fedora.
“Afternoon, ladies.”
“Afternoon.” Betty gestured for him to enter.
Garrick dipped his head as he stepped through the frame. The man was tall, lithe, and I couldn’t help but notice how Cordelia’s eyes sparkled when he entered the room. Those two had been dating for several months. I didn’t press my cousin about their relationship. Mainly that was out of fear that Cordelia would throw something at me. But really it was because my cousin was a private person.
Betty flared her arms in welcome. “To what do we owe this honor? It’s not every day that the sheriff of Magnolia Cove drops in unexpectedly. I assume this is town business and not a social call.”
“Maybe someone was murdered,” Amelia offered. “Then you’d owe us, Betty.”
Garrick scrubbed a hand down his cheek. “I’m not even going to ask what that’s about.”
Cordelia rubbed his arm. “I’ll fill you in later. You’re going to love it.”
“I doubt it.” Garrick slid the brim of his hat between his thumb and forefinger. “Betty’s right, I’m here on official town business.”
“What is it?” Amelia batted her lashes. Not in a seductive way. More like in a deer-in-headlights manner. “I’m an inquiring mind and I want to know.”
Betty gestured for Garrick to sit. “Thank you.” He stretched his long legs out in front of the couch. The four of us perched around him. I was as curious as they were. What would bring Garrick here?
He fiddled with his hat. “Seems Mayor Battle wants to retire.”
“So soon?” I shot Betty a confused look. “He only became mayor after the last one tried to kill me.”
The mayor when I moved to town was Peter Potion. As I said, he was replaced after attempted murder.
Garrick nodded. “Yep. Seems good old Barnaby Battle is ready to hang up the old mayoral hat.”
“Looks like we’ve got to find a new one.” Betty stroked her chin. “Shouldn’t be too hard. We’ll make a list of eligible candidates and ask to see who’s interested. It’s what we did the last time.”
Amelia grabbed a slip of paper. “Okay. I’m ready to play secretary. Now. Who’s the best candidate we’ve got?”
Garrick leaned forward. “Well, there’s Sylvia Spirits.”
“Oooh, she would be great,” Amelia said. “She knows a lot about Magnolia Cove, and her family has lived here forever.”
Betty rubbed her chin. “Sylvia would be good, but there’s no guarantee she’ll take the job. Who else?”
“Carmen Craple.” All eyes switched to me. I shrugged. “What? She’s a successful business owner and has a level head—unless you steal her recipes, that is.”
Which was true. At Thanksgiving a witch had appeared and stolen one of Carmen’s recipes. Needless to say that had turned out to be all the ingredients needed for a dis
aster.
Garrick wagged a finger at us. “Those are both good, but I think we’re forgetting some of the essential folks in this town.”
“I know.” Cordelia’s lips curved into a secretive smile. “Pepper would be great. You’ve garnered so much of folks’ trust in the past few months.”
“Oh no. I don’t need that sort of responsibility.” I crisscrossed my arms in warning. “Besides. I’m sure I haven’t been a resident long enough to run for public office.”
“She’s right.” Garrick donned his hat and rose. “I don’t think Pepper would be as good as someone else.”
“Who?” Amelia frowned. “Who are we forgetting?”
Garrick pointed to Betty. “She’s standing right there and practically runs this town.”
Betty’s eyes widened. “Me?”
Garrick nodded. “That’s right. I’d like to officially nominate Betty Craple as next mayor of Magnolia Cove.” He paused. “Well, Betty? Do you accept my nomination?”
Betty’s gaze darted around the room. “I don’t know what to say. I’m more of a backstage person.”
Garrick opened the front door. “Say yes.”
Betty fingered her corncob pipe. “Yes.”
Well, this should be interesting.
THREE
“You looking forward to your first day as teacher?”
Axel and I sat in his living room. A plate of red velvet cake lay in his lap. He forked nibbles into my mouth. I’d refused to eat a slice on the grounds that the extra calories would add to my waistline. I might raise my nose at an entire slice, but I wasn’t above snatching bites.
He stared at the remaining two bites of cake. “Are you going to leave me any?”
“I’m considering it.”
He chuckled and slid the plate to the coffee table. “Well? Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Excited about teaching?”
I rolled my eyes. “If it keeps Saltz Swift from pestering me to death, then yes, I’m ecstatic.”
“Have fun but watch out.” He took a long sip of water from a glass.
“How can you drink water without adding jelly beans to it?”
He choked. I snapped my fingers, and his choking immediately stopped. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to kill you.”
“Jelly beans in my water just might.” He shot me a dark look. “I don’t like really sweet things.”
“Unless it’s me.”
He smiled in the most delicious way. “Unless it’s you. And red velvet cake. Here. You have a crumb.”
He leaned so close I stopped breathing. “What? Where?”
“Right here.” He licked something from the corner of my mouth. “Icing.”
I grabbed a pillow and hugged it, hoping it would dispel some of my pent-up raw energy. Seriously. My entire body pulsed and throbbed. The sexiest guy ever can’t lick icing from your mouth while you pretend it’s no big deal.
“And here I thought you were about to get all hot and heavy on me.”
Axel kicked off his shoes. “It’s a big decision.”
“I can make it right now.” I nodded enthusiastically.
He shook his head. “No. I don’t want you to make any decisions now.” Axel extended his hand. I reached for him, and he threaded his fingers through mine. “We might not be making decisions as heavy as the one you’re referring to,” by which he meant mating, “but we can make other decisions.”
“Like what?”
He tugged me to him until my ear was pressed against his chest. Warmth seeped into me. His body heat flowed over me like bathwater. “Like, how you deal with the other teachers tomorrow.”
I jerked up. “Why? What do you mean?”
He brushed a strand of hair from my mouth. “I hear they’re difficult—and that’s putting it nicely.”
“You will be giving your lecture on familiars in my own class.”
I followed Saltz Swift down the hall at a clipped pace. His dark hair flowed behind him and his creamy caramel-colored skin was so flawless it looked airbrushed. It was impossible to know how old the man was. He could’ve been two hundred for all I knew.
Or thirty.
Definitely not thirty. He had way too much attitude for that.
“Your class?”
“Yes. I teach potions, but we’re taking a small break to learn familiars. Obviously this isn’t a semester-long discussion, so you’ll be taking three hours of my lecture time.”
“Three hours?” Seemed like a lot. I had two hours’ worth of stuff to talk about. How would I fill up the last one?
“You have one hour for the next three days. Ten o’clock sharp.”
“Okay, great.”
Maybe.
“And a few teachers will probably sit in as well.”
My stomach knotted. It was one thing to lecture to students, another to teach actual witches. Other witches, more practiced witches. Witches who were probably all around a thousand times better at craft than me.
“You appear scared.”
“Me?” I laughed nervously. “No. No, of course not. I’m perfectly fine.”
Saltz paused outside a door and leaned over to whisper in my ear. I managed not to vomit at the obvious flirtation, but only barely.
“Don’t worry. No one else here knows as much about familiars. You are the authority. Remember that and everything will be fine.”
Before I could respond, he threw open the door and swept into a class full of students. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a real treat for you today. Pepper Dunn has come from Magnolia Cove to teach us all about picking familiars and what you need to know about them.”
The roomful of boys and girls clapped. I nodded and Saltz disappeared. In the back sat three grown witches. They wore purple lipstick and similarly cut purple dresses.
Oh, and I don’t want to forget to mention that the sneers on their faces were similar as well.
“Good morning.” I clapped my hands. “Let’s talk about familiars.”
For the next forty minutes I spoke to the students about what to look for in a familiar and some of the ways familiars can be used to assist with magic.
“Now that we’ve covered the basics—which animals make the best familiars and ways to channel your magic through a creature—let’s talk about matching.”
I clasped my hands and paced in front of the room. “Most of you know that familiars are creatures you can communicate with on a certain level. They can help you focus your magic and guide you in spells with their own sensitivities. But do any of you know how to find the familiar best suited to you?”
“Do you?” came a voice from the back.
A blonde woman wearing one of the purple dresses smirked. “Do you know how to pick a familiar? Just because you own a shop doesn’t mean you can help someone pick.”
I snapped my fingers. “That’s a great question—”
“Beverly,” she answered.
“Beverly. That is a great question. I tell you what, tomorrow I will bring in a cat that’s not matched with anyone, and I’ll show each of you how to pair. How does that sound?”
“How will we know you’re doing it right?” A dark-haired woman next to Beverly shot out.
I pointed to her. “And you are?”
“Prissy.”
“Prissy, that’s a great point. Each of you will see and feel the magic. I’ll make sure of it.”
I glanced at my watch and prayed to all that was good in the world that my lecture was over.
The hall bell peeled.
“Well, that’s enough for today.” The students wasted no time scrambling to gather their books. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
Beverly gathered her minions. She smirked at me before leaving. “We look forward to seeing you, too.”
Somehow I doubted it.
I gathered my things and was about to leave when a voice boomed behind me.
“I had heard Saltz convinced a new teacher to wrangle the kids, but
I had no idea she’d have a hoard of nasty teachers to contend with, too.”
Standing in the doorway was a medium-sized man. He was very thin and wore a stylish tweed jacket with a soft yellow V-neck sweater underneath.
His smile seemed genuine, and the twinkle in his dark brown eyes appeared full of mischief. “But I see you’ve already met the welcoming committee.”
“If they’re the welcoming committee, I’d hate to see the one that’s used to throw people out.”
“Darling, those are the hounds from hell.”
Our gazes locked and I laughed. “I’m Pepper Dunn.”
“I’m Burton Tweedle, but most people call me Burt for short.”
“How do you do?”
“Burt! Oh dear Lord, they’re finally gone!” A woman clipped up beside Burt. She wore a belted dark wool dress and red boots. “I thought they’d never leave.”
Did I forget to mention she had a pencil stuck in her hair that created a rather frazzled bun?
It was darling and the most human thing I’d encountered at the school, which was quickly turning into quite an interesting experience.
“Deidre Tipple, meet our new friend, Pepper.”
“Hello.” Her gaze met mine but then zipped back toward the hall.
“You’ll have to forgive our dear Deidre here, Pepper.” Burt crossed one wrist elegantly over the other. “She’s been working on quite the scholarly endeavor, and I’m afraid it’s consuming her.”
Deidre rolled her eyes. “It’s not consuming me.”
Burt shot her a pointed look.
Deidre shivered. “It’s just that the nature of my work can be a bit, um, controversial.”
I nodded toward the class. “I totally understand. I don’t think my talk on familiars went over very well.”
Burt clasped his hands in front of him. “Ah, you must be referring to the Meanie Three.”
I stifled a giggle. “Beverly and company?”
“They’re horrible.” Deidre leaned forward. “We avoid them as much as possible.”
“What do they teach?”
“Tarot and divination,” Burt said. “You would think when you’re asking the stars about your life that you’d be humble.”
“But they’re not,” Deidre whispered. “Think they own the joint.”