by Renee George
“Under the east staircase. There’s a small room, like the one where the boy wizard with the lightning bolt scar lived.”
Harry Potter reference aside, private access to the staircase would be next to impossible. “We’d have to pass all the rooms on this floor, the parlor and library on the second floor, along with the room Ford’s parents are staying in.” Lily was on the second floor as well. “And even if we manage to get to Vivi to the staircase unseen, there is still the crowded foyer where the base of the staircase is located.”
“I told you that you wouldn’t like it.”
“We should ask your dad for help. He can use a translocation spell.” Lily cast me a sympathetic look. “Kent is really good at those.” My dad had been the one to pop down to Lily’s new home in Missouri and bring her back for the weekend.
“And accurate,” Tizzy added. “Unlike a certain witch in the room.”
“What are we going to do when more murderers come after me?”
“Easy peasy.” Ford yanked me to his body, and my knees wobbled. “They all end up in the cupboard with Vivi.”
“Where do we even start with suspects?”
“The photographer, caterer, cake decorator, florist,” Lily suggested.
“What about the high priestess?” I asked
Ford stroked my back. “You think Sister Sandy is behind this?”
“No.” I sighed. “Not really.” I just hated her holier-than-thou attitude. As if she were somehow closer to the goddess because she had a fancy title. “It could be a guest. I’m not always the most popular witch in town.”
“What about all of your relatives coming out of the woodwork? You don’t know them people,” Tizzy said. “What if one has it out for you? Or is getting revenge for something your mom did?”
“That’s not completely impossible,” Lily agreed. “You should ask your dad about old enemies.”
“Why are you trying so hard to get my dad involved?”
“Maybe because I think it’s nice you have a dad to get involved.”
My heart sunk. Lily lost both her parents and her only sibling. I imagined she would give anything to be able to ask her dad for anything. “I’ll think about asking him.” Oh, who was I kidding. I had to ask him. If someone was here to exact revenge for Mom’s past misdeeds, I could be in serious trouble. She’d tangled with some pretty powerful witches and messed with forces she had no business messing with—druidic power and death magic for example. I’d almost lost Lily because of the dark path my mom had walked.
Ford’s phone beeped. He looked down at the screen. “It’s my mom. She’s freaking out about something. I better go check on her.”
“Before you go, kiss me.” I held out my hands. “I’m going to need something to hold me together.”
“Anything for my beautiful bride-to-be.” He feathered his lips over mine. I tried to deepen the kiss, but my face cracked. Ack! I still had clay on my face. “Lily, can you get me a warm washcloth?”
“Even with a mint green face you are sexy as hell, Haze.” Ford reached down to caressed my bootie. “Mmm, vanilla and rum. I love the way you smell.”
“Oh, yeah? And what if I smelled like cheap beer?” I reached my hand back, my fingers tracing the scruff of his short beard.
“You could smell like a raccoon’s pee, and I’d still find you sexy.”
“Ew.” I giggled. “I’m not sure that’s a smell you’d want to live with forever.” I’d drunkenly kissed Ford at a party our senior year, and he’d caught my scent. The mating scent. I got the better end of the aroma stick, because my man always smells like cinnamon desserts. You know, streusel, cinnamon buns, spice cakes, apple pie, and such. I’m just lucky that I’m a witch with the metabolism of a rabbit on a crack, otherwise I’d have put on fifty pounds in the past year since returning to Paradise Falls.
I untangled from Ford and watched his firm, round ass while he walked away.
After he left, I sighed. Heavily. “What a view.”
Tizzy made a noise of disgust. “I could have gone all night without watching you two grope.”
“Here you go,” Lily said and handed me a steaming washcloth. “Maybe we should get the rollers out of your hair. Or at least wrap them up.”
“Hazel, you cannot go out there with rollers in your hair!” Tizzy protested. “Rollers, I might add, that would be completely unnecessary if you would just practice a little glamour magic.”
“Hush,” I told the squirrel as I wiped the crusted clay from my face. “I am not risking all my hair falling out on my special day.”
Lily looked meaningfully at the door where my father had been pacing on the other side. “Well, there are several hundred witches and warlocks in this town. I’m sure you could have gotten someone to fix you up.”
“I’m not asking my dad to fix my hair and makeup.” I didn’t even really need the mask, but I liked the way it made my skin tingle.
“Why wouldn’t you ask your dad?” my dad asked from right behind me and nearly sent me into a full-blown heart attack.
“Mr. Kinsey,” Lily said. “Nice of you to pop in.”
My father looked handsome in his black suit. With his black hair and deep brown eyes much like mine, the sky-blue shirt under the jacket almost seemed ethereal. He gave me a curious look. “What are you being so secretive about?”
His question meant he hadn’t noticed the body on the floor. Lily and I parted, leaving a clear path to the deceased.
My dad opened his mouth to say something. Then closed it. Then opened it. Finally, he said, “That’s unexpected.”
“You’re telling me.” I snorted inappropriately. I couldn’t help it. High stress triggered my funny bone, and frankly, it didn’t get much higher stress than barbecued Vivi. “She pulled a gun on me.”
“What did you do?”
“I blew a hole in her. Duh.”
“No, I mean, what did you do to Vivi to make her pull a gun on you? You’ve been riding her pretty hard these past couple of weeks. Bridezilla is a real phenomenon.”
“Dad!”
“Kidding, pumpkin. Just trying not to lose it here.”
Apparently, high stress funny bones ran in the family. “We need to hide the body until we can find out who sent Vivi to kill me and why. I don’t want the culprit knowing she’s failed and initiate Plan B.”
My dad smoothed his perfectly coiffed hair back with a shaky hand. He was definitely ruffled. “Plan B?”
“Sending more hired guns after me.” I told him about Vivi’s last words before I self-defended myself. “I really just meant to incapacitate her,” I concluded.
“You definitely managed that and then some. We need to get Tanya involved.”
“Noooooooo,” I whined. Tanya Flipping Gellar, the town medical examiner and my dad’s new girlfriend, was also my frenemy. She’d had a crush on Ford before I came back to town, and the red-headed witch liked to throw shade at me left and right. “I think the less people involved the better.”
“When Baba Yaga’s special police get wind of this, and they will, you will want a forensic accounting of what occurred here. Believe me, Salem, Massachusetts isn’t a nice place to visit and you certainly don’t want to live there. Especially not behind bars. Witch jail is not fun, Kitten. Take it from your old man.”
My dad would know. He’d spent all of my adult life in a magic-free jail cell. He was also right about Baba Yaga’s special police. I used magic to kill someone. Not for the first time, but it was the first time I’d used it to defend myself against a mundane weapon. Had I had my own pistol, I might have chosen that option, but at the time, all I had was my spark. I hadn’t meant for it to go so high voltage. Surely, Baba Yaga would cut me some slack for the innocent mistake.
I snorted again. Tizzy, Lily, and my dad all looked at me as if I were losing my mind. I sighed. “I don’t want to go to Salem. For any reason.”
“Then we need Tanya.”
I groaned. “But she doesn’t l
ike me. What if she uses this as an opportunity to get rid of me?”
Dad added, “She won’t do anything to harm you, Haze.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she’s going to be your stepmother.”
The room darkened. “I didn’t think this day could get any worse.”
“Now, Haze. Don’t be that way. Tanya makes me happy.”
I plugged my ears. “I can’t hear this right now. Just go get her before Vivi’s goes into rigor mortis.”
Dad vanished immediately. I really admired his ability to control translocation. Right then I wished I could translocate Ford and I to a deserted island where no one would find us. He could hunt and gather, I could cook and… oh, who was I kidding. Ford would end up doing the hunting, the gathering, the cooking, and the cleaning. The domestic gene was recessive in my family.
A loud squawk startled me. I turned to Tizzy who had her perfectly manicured hand over her mouth while her whole body shook with laughter. She laughed so hard she began to wheeze. Her bushy chest heaved with the effort to breathe. I glared. She laughed harder.
Lily, like a good BFF, did not even crack a smile.
When Tizzy’s hysteria ended, she wiped the tears from her rounded cheeks, and said, “Hazel’s getting a new mommy.”
I threw the wet washcloth covered with mud at Tizzy but she jumped out of the way before it hit her. “My dad is never going to marry--”
A whirl of black and red tornadoed into the room. Who wore black to a wedding? Tanya Freaking Gellar, that’s who. The bitchy witch put her hands on her hips, stared down at the body with disapproval, and asked, “What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into this time, Hazel?”
Chapter Three
A couple hours and several lectures later, the body was under the cupboard, I was dressed in a metallic midnight blue strapless Herve Leger form-fitting bandage dress, with perfectly curled hair, makeup awesome, courtesy of my dad, and Tanya Effing Gellar had promised not to turn me into the witch po-po. At least not yet. It was six o’clock, one hour before the dinner. Guests would be seated at seven, and the meal served at seven-thirty. Momma Baylor had spent a month with the caterer crafting tonight’s menu. I think it was a good thing the caterer wasn’t a witch, or my almost mom-in-law would’ve ended up as the main course.
I texted Ford to escort me downstairs for pre-dinner cocktails. It would be the perfect time to scope out the guests and see if anyone acted suspicious.
He texted back. Busy.
Get unbusy. Need my man.
Do you know someone named Sassy?
Fu-udge. Not my cousin Sassy. Well, she wasn’t my real cousin, but she’d stayed with my mom’s first cousin in a foster-like situation for a summer when I was a teenager, so I claimed her as a cousin. Barely. She hadn’t RSVP’d my obligatory invite. Talk about adding gas to the fire. If that crazy witch was here, we had more problems on our hands than an assassin.
On my way.
I’d have to venture down the steep staircase in my four-inch Jimmy Choos by myself. If I got super lucky I might break my neck on the way down, and I could avoid the hurricane otherwise known as Sassy.
The murmur of many voices echoed up the ancient stairwell. My chest tightened with every step.
“And so I was like, oh shit, and black snakes were fucking everywhere!” The garishly booming voice was followed by riotous laughter. Crap. Sassy.
I hastened my pace down the last flight. I had to save my poor mate! Sassy, while not evil, could be unpredictably violent, plus she had the ability to get into peoples’ heads and screw with them. No one was allowed in Ford’s head. No one!
I tripped down the last three steps, and a young man, his hair styled in several dozen braids, purple nail polish, and guyliner, caught me before I landed on my face. He set me on my feet and said, “Okay there, miss?” His accent was sort of Australian, sort of British, sort of American, and all weird. Just like his loud green jacket.
“Well spank me blue and call me Sheila, if it isn’t my favorite cuz!” Sassy screamed. She threw her arms around the man who’d rescued me. “I see you met my thunder from down under, Jeeves, and oh baby, does he bring the thunder.” She wiggled her brows. “You know, down under. Get it.” Her large double D boobs were on display in an extremely tight, vintage Christian Dior knock-off.
“This isn’t a knock-off, sweetie,” Sassy said. “This is the real deal.” She swung a purse over the man’s broad shoulder and added, “So is this Hermes Birkin bag.” She winked then put her finger to her lips in a shhh gesture. “Congratulations on finding such a beefcake, Haze.”
“What are you doing here?”
She frowned. “I really thought getting laid on a regular basis would have taken that stick out of your ass.” Then she smiled and put her hand on my arm. “I’m just messing with you. You look sexy as shit, by the way.”
Cinnamon cream overwhelmed my senses as two strong arms encircled me from behind. Immediately, I relaxed.
“Sassy lives in Assjacket now with Zelda, the next in line to take Baba Yaga’s place.”
“Oh, not for years,” Sassy exclaimed. “For now, she’s happy being a shifter wanker.”
Ford grunted. “You know the shifter wanker?”
I leaned sideways and looked up at him. “Do you know the shifter wanker?”
“Only by reputation.” He stroked my bare shoulder. “After all, she’s the one who healed Lily after the Adele Adams situation.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. My stomach soured. “I forgot.” I patted Ford’s hand. “Well, it’s so nice seeing you, Sassy. I appreciate you coming.”
“You bet,” the buxom blonde said brightly.
A brunette in a turquoise dress, ruched at the waist with a peplum hem, yoohooed me from across the drawing room. “I have to go,” I said remorsefully. “That’s Sister Sandy, the high priestess performing the ceremony tonight.”
The high priestess had been a holy pain in my ass, but I thanked the goddess for the timely distraction as I departed from Sassy and her beau and made my way across the room, my hand firmly clasped with Ford’s as I dragged him along. I was not facing Sandy alone.
I bumped into a warlock I hadn’t met before. He gave me an approving stare.
“Bride,” I said.
He smiled and kept his eye on me as Ford and I passed him.
Pierce Roberts, another warlock and the town’s CPA stopped me a few feet from the distressed-looking priestess. “Good wedding to you, Chief Kinsey,” he said. Robert was not a fan of mine. He’d been friends with Adele Adams, and while he didn’t say it, I’m sure he blamed me for the hellmouth in the middle of town last fall.
“Thanks, Pierce. It’s nice of you to come tonight.”
“I wouldn’t miss a binding ceremony,” he said. “It’s a rush.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that since this would be my first attending and having. “Okay. Well, I better get to Sister Sandy before she has a coronary. See you at dinner.”
“Yes, you will.” He gave me a tight-lipped smile then nodded to my mate. “Ford.”
Ford gave him a curt nod back. “Pierce.”
“Hey,” I said when we finally reached the priestess. “Pretty dress. What’s up?”
Sandy worried her purse strap between her fingers. “I can’t find Vivi anywhere. Have you seen her?”
I didn’t want to lie to Sandy. I’m sure it was against some rule somewhere to tell fibs to the goddess’s handmaidens. I cast a quick glance at the door under the stairs. “Nope. Haven’t seen her.” I was on the speedway to witch hell. “How come you’re looking for her?”
“I’m embarrassed to tell you this, but my ceremonial shawl went missing this morning.” Sandy’s thin face pinched. “Vivi said she’d find it or arrange to get me a replacement. I really need it to properly sanctify your nuptials.”
“Can you just…” I wiggled my fingers.
Sandy pressed the fingertips of her right hand
above her left breast, the skin around the indentions blanched. She said in a reverent tone, “Heavens no, child. Each thread on the shawl is blessed by twelve priestesses. You can’t just magically manufacture that kind of thing.”
Meh. I didn’t really care of the thread was blessed by twelve vestal virgins, Ford and I wouldn’t be any less married, and that’s all I really cared about. “I’m okay with you just doing human traditional exchange of vows. If you can’t find the shawl,” because Vivi cannot help you, I added silently, “then we’ll get married without it. No problem.”
“Wrong,” Sandy said. “Big problem.”
Ford’s grip on my hand tightened, and my fingers started to tingle. “What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry, Hazel and Ford, but if I don’t have my shawl or a replacement in time for your binding, then I won’t be able to perform your ceremony.”
“Ow,” I said, yanking my hand free from Ford’s steely grasp.
My hostile mate narrowed his gaze at Sandy. “That is not acceptable.”
“Again, I’m sorry,” Sandy said, her aquiline nose raising an inch to meet Ford’s glare with one of her own. “Let’s just pray to the goddess my hallowed stole shows up before then.” She then passed me a look that I swear held a smidgeon of accusation.
“Yes.” I crossed my arms and the seam of my dress became excruciatingly taut against my backside. “Let’s hope you find your shawl, and let’s hope that I don’t find my gun.”
Sandy’s eyes, dark violet in color, went wide. “What do you mean by that?”
Ford took my elbow more gently than he had my hand. “She’s just edgy, your worship. We’ll find your missing cloak before the end of the night.”
Sandy huffed a breath but appeared somewhat mollified. “See that you do, or this binding is off.”
Ford hustled us away before I could tell Sandy where she could stuff her worship
“Hazel!” a woman shouted. It was Becksy’s mother, Lena Ansel. Her short brown hair framed her wide cheek bones and large green eyes. She clasped my hand warmly. “I just wanted to thank you for allowing Becksy to participate in your ceremony tonight. She’s thrilled to be one of the young witches launching the flower boat wishes out onto the lake.”