Seven Pets for Seven Witches

by Annabel Chase

  Except a lot less fur, of course.

  Grandma led a wonderful service. She even cried a few times. It was over before I knew it and all the rats were spilling back into the house for the reception.

  I cringed at the sight of all the little paws and feet taking over the house.

  Luckily by the time we got back inside the dining room, Sera had a wedding cake and lots of cupcakes for the guests.

  “Ta-da,” she said.

  “Wow, that was fast,” I whispered, sidling up to her.

  She winked at me. “Magic.”

  I laughed. If you wanted something done quickly, magic was the way to go.

  Her gaze swept over the rats. She handed them little plates with cut cupcakes on them. Sera’s gaze drifted to the kitchen.

  “Ugh,” she said, “what’s he doing here?”

  I didn’t even have to look to know she was talking about Pearbottom. “He’s here because someone tipped him off that there’s going to be a theft.”

  Sera raked her fingers through her silky hair. “Great. So we’ve got to put up with him for how long?”

  “Hopefully just a few hours.”

  One of the rats started shrieking. It sounded like Trixie. In fact, it was. She stood around her family, tears poured down her face.

  “My pearls,” she squeaked.

  I crossed over to her. The fur under her eyes was shiny and wet.

  “Trixie, what is it?”

  The rat clutched her neck. “My pearls! They were on my neck a few minutes ago. Now they’re gone.”

  I bit my lip. Oh, no. “Do you think they fell off?” I said hopefully.

  Trixie shook her head. “No. They’ve been stolen! My prized pearls were taken by someone in this room!”

  Chapter 4

  Jonathan Pearbottom strode into the center of the room and flared his arms out. “No one moves. Everyone stay exactly where you are. There’s a thief and I plan on sniffing him or her out.”

  I rolled my eyes. I mean, Pearbottom was acting like he was Wyatt Earp and my house was the Old West.

  “Madam rat,” Pearbottom said, “when was the last time you saw this necklace?”

  Trixie thought for a minute. “When I was saying my vows to Roger-poo, here. I know I had them on then because I reached for them.”

  Pearbottom clasped his hands behind his back. “So the pearls were on your neck when you were outside. Let’s see if they’re still there.”

  The inspector marched through the house, a trail of rats clipping at his heels. I shot Roman a look. He brushed his fingers over his lips, trying to hide a smile.

  “You staying in here?” he said. “You’re not going to miss all the fun, are you?”

  “The fun?”

  He nodded. “You’ve got to see Pearbottom in action. Even I haven’t seen this in a while.”

  “Really?”

  Roman grinned. “Trust me on this.”

  I smirked. “Trust you?”

  “Like you would with your naked body.”

  I swatted him. “Come on. Let’s go see.”

  We reached the yard right as Pearbottom pulled a magnifying glass from his cape pocket. “So you, Trixie the Rat, were standing right about here,” he said, pointing to a patch of yellow grass.

  Trixie sniffled. “Yes. I was right there.”

  Pearbottom swept the yard with the glass. “So somewhere between here and the dining room, you lost the pearls.”

  “That’s correct,” she said, sniffling. “Between those two spots someone stole them from my neck!” She pointed at the crowd. “Someone here betrayed me.”

  Sheesh. Dramatic much?

  Pearbottom glanced at the rats. “And did anyone see these pearls? Anyone at all?”

  The rats all stared at him blankly. Not sure if they understood English, but that didn’t seem to stop him.

  “Perhaps one of the rats thought they were a snack,” Roman offered.

  Pearbottom poked the air. “What a good observation, Detective Bane.”

  “They do eat anything,” Roman added.

  Pearbottom sniffed. “Did anyone eat the pearls?”

  Still blank stares.

  “No one ate them,” Trixie said. “They stole them.”

  “Ate, stole,” I said. “It’s almost the same thing.”

  Pearbottom glared at me.

  I laughed nervously. “Just trying to help.”

  “All right,” he said with a flourish of his hand. “Who was standing beside the bride?”

  “Me,” I squeaked. “I was beside her.”

  “And do you have the pearls?”

  I shook my head. “No pearls here, but when the wedding was over, a lot of people came up to her.”

  Pearbottom raked his gaze over the crowd. “Who was nearby? Let me see all of you.”

  About twenty naked rats approached Pearbottom.

  I sidled over to Roman. “Exactly where are they going to hide her pearls?”

  Roman threaded his fingers through his hair. “Pearbottom will come up with something.”

  “My ring is missing,” Grandma cried from the door.

  The crowd swiveled in her direction. She wiggled her index finger. Unlike all her other digits, this one was bare.

  Pearbottom’s eyebrows shot to points. He clasped his hands behind his back and strode over like an inspector out of a movie from the 1930s.

  “Your ring is missing?” he said.

  Grandma waved her finger around. “I noticed it a moment ago when I stopped to have a bite of cupcake. It was snatched right off my finger when I wasn’t looking!”

  “May I see this finger?” Pearbottom said.

  Oh boy. Who stops to look at the finger?

  Pearbottom inspected my grandmother’s hand with the palm up. He flipped it over, pulled his magnifying glass from his pocket and went over the speckled flesh.

  “Very interesting,” he said. “Very interesting indeed.”

  “Learned who the killer is?” Roman shot out.

  Pearbottom sniffed. “Closer. I’m getting closer. Madam rat,” he said, turning to Trixie.

  “Yes?”

  “May I see your neck?”

  “Sugar, you can see whatever you need to in order to solve this crime.”

  Pearbottom bent down and swept the glass over her neck. “Very interesting indeed.”

  “Well?” I said.

  Pearbottom plucked a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the glass. “It appears that the ring and the necklace were stolen straight off the victims. Whoever did so used cunning and quickness. They were dastardly fast, you see.”

  “Got a suspect?” I said, stifling a yawn.

  “Let us go inside and I’ll sort the details,” he said.

  The party shuffled back inside. Thank goodness, now my house was full of rats again. Just kidding. That wasn’t good at all. I was ready to get rid of them, if you wanted to know the truth.

  We went back to the dining room, where I proceeded to hand out cake to the guests. I mean, why shouldn’t they enjoy a bit of dessert while Pearbottom solved the big bad crime?

  The inspector stalked around the room. I snatched a look at Roman. Amusement danced in his green eyes. His gaze flickered to me. He smiled, the corners of his lips curling and his eyes crinkling in a way that made my heart flutter.

  Gosh, I sure did love that guy.

  I finished handing out cake and crossed to Roman. He entwined his fingers in mine and tugged me close to him.

  “Have I told you lately how much I miss you?” he murmured.

  “You just saw me at lunch.”

  “I know, but can’t I miss you in between?”

  I shrugged. “I guess so, but it sounds kind of sappy if you want to know the truth.”

  He smirked. “I guess I’m just a sappy guy then.”

  “That’s so cute. Makes my heart swell with joy.”

  “Mine too, and I’m not being sarcastic.”

  I shook my head
. “I’m not being sarcastic.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m being serious. My heart swells.”

  Roman tugged me closer and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Why don’t you stop talking and let me kiss you.”

  “Oh, well, um…”

  He gave me a quick brush on the lips and then Pearbottom was back to it.

  “It seems to me that someone in this very room is the thief. Someone snatched these two objects straight from the victims without their noticing it. That means whoever did it had to get close enough to our victims.”

  Thank you, Sherlock.

  “It also had to be someone that could go undetected, someone who’s been fitting in to the crowd, so to speak.”

  I stared at the blank expressions on the rats’ faces. I mean, it could have been any of them.

  Pearbottom paced back and forth. “But this particular person or creature who stole these objects also had to have a sense of purpose about them.”

  From the corner of the room, my baby sister, Reid, raised her hand. “You mean purpose like they needed to use them for something?”

  Her voice surprised me. I hadn’t heard her come in, and I was even more surprised that she was helping Pearbottom.

  Pearbottom poked the air. “Exactly! Purpose!”

  Trixie scurried over to me, hooked her claws in my leg and proceeded to scamper up my wedding dress until she reached my shoulder.

  I fought the urge to vomit right then and there.

  “Mr. Policeman, you need to know that before today, someone had been stealing my wedding dresses.”

  Pearbottom stroked his chin. “You don’t say?”

  “Yes, I do say, but anyway, that’s why Dylan’s wearing a copy of my dress. I didn’t want anyone to steal it from me, I thought if there were two of them, that person might steal hers instead.”

  Roman shot me a smug I-told-you-so look.

  I frowned. I really didn’t want to have to go around naked, ’cause apparently whoever the thief was, they were pretty darn good at snatching things from folks while they were wearing them.

  “Hmm, very interesting. Tell me, Miss Rat, is there someone you’re particularly close to who didn’t want you to get married?”

  Trixie sniffled, and then she burst into tears. “No one likes Roger. They say he’s a nerd.”

  Great. That did it. I plucked a tissue from a box and handed it to her. She swiped her cheeks, drying the patches left from the tears.

  “There, there,” I said. “You’re married now. It’ll be okay.”

  I pulled Trixie from my shoulder and deposited her next to Roger. As I was doing that, I caught a peek at Doodles. The crow was waddling in the kitchen, carrying something shiny in his mouth.

  I crossed to him and noticed he held a diamond bracelet. He headed for the door. I blocked it and bent down, opening my palm.

  “Drop it,” I said.

  The bird cocked his head, opened his beak and released the jewelry.

  “Anyone missing a bracelet?” I said, holding it up high.

  My sister Sera clasped her wrist. “I am. Where’d you find that?”

  I pointed to the bird. “In his beak. Inspector, I believe we’ve found our culprit.”

  Pearbottom strode over. Doodles toddled to a corner where he’d stashed a wad of napkins, one pearl necklace and a silver ring.

  “Aha,” Pearbottom announced.

  The entire rat population of my dining room scurried to us.

  Trixe broke through the crowd. “My necklace!”

  Grandma rushed over. “My ring!”

  In the short time Doodles had been at the house, the crow had amassed quite a collection of twine, dust mites, napkins and of course, jewelry.

  “Doodles,” Trixie chastised, “have you been stealing all my things?”

  Doodles blinked.

  “My guess is,” I said, “that he’s the one who took your wedding dresses. If you go home and unearth his stash, you’ll find them.”

  Pearbottom raised his parrot nose. “Crows love shiny objects. They can’t exactly help themselves. It’s in their blood. Well, I see we’ve found the culprit.”

  “You mean I found the culprit,” I said.

  Pearbottom pinched his lips together. “Yes, I suppose so. This doesn’t mean anything has changed between us, though. I’m still watching you, Dylan Apel.”

  I batted my lashes at him. “And I’m still a model witch citizen,” I chimed.

  Pearbottom choked on something, probably the truth. “I see my job is done here.” He turned to Trixie and her new husband. “Have a happy life.”

  The guests stayed for another hour before they finally started pouring from the house. As we were winding down, Trixie came over to me.

  “Dylan, I can’t thank you enough, sugar, for making my dress. You made all my magical wedding dreams come true.”

  I smiled at her. “I’m so glad I could help. I have to admit I wasn’t exactly crazy about the idea at first.”

  “You mean you didn’t want to help a rat.”

  I grimaced. “I hate to put it that way.”

  “But it’s true,” she said sadly. “No one thinks of us as people with thoughts and feelings.”

  I nibbled my lip for a second. “Because you aren’t people. But you are a creature with hopes and dreams the same as any other.”

  Trixie extended her arms for a hug. “Thank you, Dylan. And I’ll leave you now, but if you ever need any help from me or my rat friends, let me know. I’m here to help.”

  “Will I still be able to understand you, now that our connection is broken?”

  Trixie shrugged. “I’m not sure. But even if we can’t understand each other in words, we’ll still be able to understand each other in heart.”

  Okay, heart wasn’t exactly a language, but I got the gist of what she meant.

  I wrapped the little rat up in a hug. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Please do come visit.”

  I swear the rat sniffled. “I will.”

  With that, she scampered off to a corner to return to her rat village, or wherever she lived.

  I plucked a tissue from a box and dabbed my eyes.

  “Don’t worry, darlin’, we’ll always have Paris.”

  I barked a laugh. I pivoted in my seat to see Roman leaning against one corner. “She’ll be back,” he said. “Don’t worry. It’s impossible to get rid of rats.”

  I nodded. “That’s probably true.” I pushed myself from the chair. “Of course, there’s someone else I don’t want to get rid of.”

  His brow quirked. “I’m assuming you mean me.”

  As Roman wrapped me in a hug and grazed his lips over mine, I murmured, “You would be assuming right.”

  Witch Mocha Morsel

  A BEWITCHED BY CHOCOLATE Short Story

  H.Y. Hanna

  Chapter 1

  “Are these chocolates all handmade?”

  Caitlyn jumped guiltily and came out of her daydream. She looked up to find herself facing a plump, middle-aged man across the counter, his chubby face creased in a jovial smile. It was so different from the face she had been dreaming about—the handsome features of Lord James Fitzroy, with his humorous grey eyes, aristocratic nose, and heart-melting, lopsided smile—that she had to blink several times to bring herself back to the present.

  “Um…” She cleared her throat, remembering her sales spiel. “Yes… yes, they are! They’re all created by hand, using chocolate made from the finest cocoa beans, combined with ingredients like rich, buttery caramel and smooth, creamy fudge.” And a little bit of witchy magic, she added silently with a smile to herself.

  “Mmm… Sounds awesome,” said the man, smacking his lips and eyeing the rows of chocolates displayed beneath the glass counter. He had a strong American accent and an open, friendly manner that made you instantly warm to him.

  “Would you like to choose some to put in a box?” asked Caitlyn hopefully.

  Th
e man hesitated. “Well, you know, I’m supposed to be on a diet…” He leaned forwards to peer through the glass pane and sighed. “These look so good, though… wow, look at that dark chocolate one with the crunchy toffee pieces… and that one with the roasted hazelnuts… and this one with the dark things sprinkled on top—What are they?” He tilted his head and read the label out loud. “‘Milk chocolate truffle, filled with vanilla ganache and sprinkled with crispy cocoa nibs’… cocoa what?”

  “Nibs,” Caitlyn said.

  “Mew!”

  A scrap of black fur darted out from nowhere and jumped up onto the counter, causing the man to reel back in surprise.

  “Sorry,” said Caitlyn, trying to grab the kitten. “His name’s Nibs so he probably thought I was calling him.”

  “A shop cat, huh? That’s cute.”

  Caitlyn gave him an apologetic look. “Actually, Nibs isn’t supposed to be out here in the shop—he’s supposed to stay at the back of the cottage, but he’s… well, he’s a bit naughty.”

  “Mew!” said Nibs. He gave Caitlyn a cheeky twitch of his whiskers, then turned his big yellow eyes to look up at the man.

  “Nibs, huh?” said the man, grinning as he eyed the fluffy kitten. “Yeah, I can see why you called him that: dark and tiny like those cocoa things. Where did you get him?”

  “I rescued him, actually,” said Caitlyn, stroking the little kitten, who began to purr loudly. “I found him in a flooded quarry up on the hill behind the village.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “The hill with the stone circle? I heard there’s all sorts of rumours about that place—some kind of powerful ancient magic, right? And this village too… We met this tour guide who told us weird things have been happening here: people getting chocolate warts on their skin and a chocolate cake turning into live butterflies… it was even in the news or something. Is that true?”

  “Er… well, you know… sometimes things happen and then… um… you get silly rumours spreading…” Caitlyn said lamely.

  The tourist chuckled. “Actually, my wife didn’t even wanna stop in Tillyhenge, but I told her the stories are just crazy talk.” He glanced back through the shop doorway at the cobbled street outside. “So far, it looks just like any other quaint little English village we’ve visited. And I haven’t met any witches… unless you’re one!”