Moggies, Magic and Murder
Books 5 - 8 of A Witch and her Cats Cozy Adventure Mystery
Pearl Goodfellow
Copyright © 2018 by Pearl Goodfellow
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
You guys are magic. I mean it.
Thanks so much for reading, and keep up your crazy sorcery.
Love, Pearl
Map of the Coven Isles
Contents
1. A Sense of FUR-boding
2. Ticket to DIE
3. WARlocked and Loaded
4. Chasing the Dragons
Coming January 2019 …
Also by Pearl Goodfellow
A Sense of FUR-boding
CHAPTER 1
I refused to open my eyes until the third time the kitty paw pressed my nose firmly. Was a peaceful sleep too much to ask for? Apparently, some little fuzzball had different ideas. I cracked open my eyelids slightly to a dim, hazy half-light. Dawn was just about to break. “What?”
My cat, Fraidy, was sitting on my chest in his usual state of freakout. “He’s still awake.”
I groaned and tried to turn over. “So? Why do I have to be awake too? The sun isn’t up yet.”
“Didn’t you just hear me?” An edge of panic creeping into his words. My timid cat’s wide yellow eyes expanded even more. “Midnight…is still…awake.”
“And thanks to you, so am I,” the cranky voice of Gloom muttered from the other side of the bed. “At least Midnight is quiet about his insomnia.”
“You mean aside from the noise he was making attempting to knock himself out?” Onyx’s cultured tones queried. “By ramming his head against the wall repeatedly?”
“Hey, I was desperate,” Midnight’s voice drifted up to me. My night-wandering moggie had commandeered Fraidy’s usual hangout; the Fortress of Cashmere under the bed. “Besides, the coyote spirit I ran into last night swore it’d do the trick if I did it enough times.”
“And you believed him?” Gloom asked incredulously. “Do you have any idea how hard that sly old dog is laughing right now, fur-ball?” She turned her ample rump to us all in indignant disgust at her brother’s stupidity.
Well, so much for blessed sleep. If I were Unawakened, I would merely hear a series of mewing and meows, which, don’t get me wrong, is distracting enough. But, now imagine understanding all of those feline murmurings. It’s impossible not to get dragged into the topic of conversation, I tell ya. I groaned and swung my feet over the edge of the bed.
“Are you sure you drank all of Grandma Chimera’s sleepyhead tea I gave you last night?” I asked Midnight, running my hands over my face in an effort to wipe the grogginess away.
“Every drop,” Midnight swore as he came out from under the bed. “It was pretty mellow. But, a night with a musical pixie would get the same results. Sorry, boss. I wanted it to work.” Midnight’s shoulders slumped as his inky face stared up at me with pleading bloodshot eyes.
My irritation gave way to compassion almost instantly. I ran my hands through his coal black fur and massaged behind his fuzzy ears. He purred loudly at my unsolicited attention.
“This is not helping ME get back to sleep,” Gloom growled.
“Oh, shush, sister,” Onyx said as he padded around the foot of the bed. “It is hardly as though our dear brother wanted this dastardly insomnia in the first place.”
Fraidy hissed and arched his back in a display of tufted fur, his tail fuzzing-out and as erect as an exclamation point. “So whose idea was it?” He demanded, darting his head from side. No doubt he was trying to catch sight of the imagined evil entity that had cursed his night-owl brother with daytime insomnia.
“Relax, Fraidy,” Midnight muttered between purrs. “It’s probably nothing. But, I think there might just be some certain someone’s who have a problem with me picking up valuable information on my night prowls.”
“And, when he says valuable information, he means gossip,” Eclipse chuckled from the foot of the bed.
“That was my line,” a bored tone came from Gloom.
Midnight huffed. “Look, all I’m saying is maybe someone thinks I know too much.”
“About what?” Eclipse asked in between licks of his nether-regions.
“About something, okay?” Midnight shouted hotly. He was deadly serious when it came to his self-importance in the gossipy night realm.
He pushed his head into my hand, demanding more petting. I obliged, of course, and my sleep deprived cat began making circles on my lap, trying to craft a bed that would help him fall asleep, and make him oblivious to his annoying siblings. Apparently, he was utterly oblivious to the fact that I might feel the need to move at some point. Cats. They never think to ask what your schedule looks like before they sleep on you. To them, it’s just: ‘I need a power nap for however long I feel like, and you will be my bed.’
“Is it the Fae? The Mag Mell Fae?” Fraidy asked, his voice a high-pitched squeak.
My timid cat’s query stopped Midnight’s purring dead in its tracks. Like a phonograph needle getting jerked from an LP record. Onyx shot me a look. A worried one. Even at the best of times, the Fae are never invoked lightly in my household. Mag Mell was an even touchier subject, given the recent strange events which have been seemingly emanating from the enchanted isle.
My clowder of kitties — minus Shade; he was overnighting at Ms. Poof’s — gathered around my feet at the side of the bed, Midnight still trying to find a comfortable niche on my lap. I looked down at a sea of loveable black fur and fourteen golden eyes. Each of those shining orbs had questions for me. Questions I couldn’t answer.
“Your suggestion is far too premature, Fraidy,” Eclipse said gravely, trying his best to help me out.
“I’m dead serious,” Fraidy asserted. “We’ve possibly interfered with some Unseelie Court business at least once, maybe more than once. Getting that last portal closed at the Rock Grumlin site on Cathedral probably wasn’t a good idea. They’re not going to forget about that. Why else would Midnight have this daytime insomnia? Something's not right, I’m telling you!”
“Still, it doesn’t quite follow,” Onyx said, in a careful tone. He tried to soothe my most cowardly kitty’s wild imaginings. “While Fae enchantments — or the blowback of same — is certainly a possibility, we have no reason to believe that they are making it so personal and messing with Midnight’s sleep patterns. Queen of the Faeries, Hinrika Jonsdottir, is due to arrive here next month. Someone of her power and stature may well be causing nervous ripples throughout—”
Fraidy hissed again to cut off his brother’s verbal wisdom. “It’s the Mag Mell Fae, Onyx! It’s always personal with them when you get in their way! Especially if the person who’s hampering their efforts is a fairly beautiful, if somewhat reluctant, witch.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or offended by Fraidy’s shorthand descriptor of ‘fairly.’ The little chap had spoken the truth, though. I did come from a long line of witches. Yes, I was ‘fairly’ attractive. My wavy auburn hair framed a reasonably pretty face, I guess. And, yes, I was definitely reluctant. The closest I liked to get to magic was making potions based on my beloved herbs. I owned The Angel. An apothecary serving Gless Inlet’s community for four generations now. Granny Chimera Opal passed the business, and the cats for that matter, down to me before she went to the Everworld. I adored mixing balms, elixirs, lotions and remedying teas. I had full control over the ingred
ients and knew exactly what went into my concoctions. Magic, though? Well, let’s just say a childhood trauma had put me off for using magic for life. I felt I had no control over my powers, and trying to harness them on that fateful day of my lost childhood. Well …
“Fraidy might actually have a point,” Eclipse interrupted my painful memories. “Or has anyone here forgotten that time last century when I had to purge Robin Goodfellow of all memories of that lady love of his?”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly around to remember it with you, so…” I teased, hoping a note of levity might keep things from getting too serious. My cats, even though immortal, and usually not too concerned with the everyday ups and downs of life, could get wound up pretty quickly when it came to Faery mischief.
“Oh my Goddess! Yes, yes I do!” Jet said in his usual excitable patter. My zippy cat always looked as if he had springs attached to the bottoms of his paws, the way he lifted off the ground whenever he got worked up. “I had to spend days out in the open, trying to steer that little lovesick fairy just to the right ambush spot for you, ‘Clipsy. And, did anyone thank me after it was over? Noooooooo…I was merely told that I hesitated too lon—“
“As fun as all this reminiscing is,” I said, holding up a hand to discourage any more meaningless banter, “I’d like to get back to this century’s problems. If I brewed up double the dose of the tea I gave you last night, Midnight, think it might mellow you out enough for you to get some rest?”
Midnight licked his lips. “Maybe…but get me some more water to chase it with this time, alright?” His small face contorted in wrinkled disgust. “Tasted like wet dog.”
“Midnight…that’s no way to talk to our human,” Onyx said with disapproval. “Particularly given that she’s doing her level best to help you get some sleep.”
“Ahh, it’s probably because I haven’t gotten any sleep that I’m this way, Brother O,” Midnight sighed. “Sorry, Boss.”
I gave his forehead another scratch. He was way past forgiven. He was my charge, and I loved him dearly. And the poor, sick, kitty fur-baby needed my help.
Midnight wasn’t the only one who was having trouble with his sleep cycle. About an hour and a half after I’d given Midnight some more of the tea (which eventually resulted in cute little kitty snores…score one for Grandma Chimera’s recipe book!), my assistant, Millie Madge, stumbled in the back door of the shop.
The Angel Apothecary had been in business for over one hundred and fifty years now. One of the side perks was the upstairs apartment that made going to work a matter of just getting dressed and walking downstairs. Another was the back door that never needed to be locked. The enchantments on it kept out any unwelcome visitors, whether it was business hours or not. That last was probably a good thing. If poor Millie had had to unlock it this morning, she probably would have never gotten in. My usually bubbly assistant looked nothing like her usual self.
If you were looking at Millie for the first time, you wouldn’t necessarily notice anything was wrong. But, it was the little details that got my attention. Her dyed black hair was a little messier and more tangled than usual. I admit this new Raven Black color that Millie sported wasn’t my favorite look for her. I preferred her rainbow colors, if only because she was so bright and, er, colorful herself. Her pale face stood out in stark contrast to her blue-black locks. Her lipstick, usually applied with the same care you’d expect from the brush strokes of an artist working on his masterpiece, was slightly smudged. Her drooping eyelids did nothing to cover the bruised looking bags under them. Only half of her fingernails were painted. Then there was her gait. You could tell she was trying to stay steady, but she was barely succeeding and rocked alarmingly with each step.
“Morning, Hattie,” she said with a cavernous yawn. Being contagious, as yawns are, I immediately joined in.
A blur of furry motion halted my gaping mouth, as Jet zoomed around the room in a fit of worry. “Oh, this is bad, this is bad, this is bad.”
Millie momentarily perked up. She snatched up the spray bottle under the counter and made a pinpoint accurate shot at Jet with it.
“Chillax, Jet. You’re freaking everyone out,” she managed, on the verge of another yawn.
“Ahh, my eyes!” Jet squealed as the water smacked him in the forehead. “It burns, it burns!”
“It’s just water, silly,” I admonished him from the counter.
“No, really, it’s burning my eyes!” Jet shrilled as he ran straight into the tea display. Boxes of Hawthorn and Hibiscus rained down around my confused kitty, as he brought up his two front paws to swipe at his peepers.
I could see that he wasn’t fooling around. I rushed around the counter to meet him, and when my fingers brushed the tiny water beads from his head, I was stunned by an immediate, acute burning sensation on my fingertips.
“Carbon!” I called out to the only kitty I had who could manufacture this kind of heated effect.
My heat-seeking cat was just about to settle into his favorite spot by the shop’s hearth. “Wha-what?”
While Millie’d never mastered any of the magical arts under dear Grandma Chimera’s tutelage, she did have a few mystical talents that were definitely more than what most Unawakened had. One of them was the ability to understand my cats.
“Did you have anything to do with this?” Millie asked, holding up the bottle of seemingly benign water and glaring at Carbon. “Jet says that the water’s burning his eyes.”
“Yeah, well, that’s between him and the water,” Carbon sniped with annoyance. “I didn’t have anything to do with it. I mean, you’ve all seen how well I handle water.”
Not like it was hard to forget that wet ride home from Cathedral after we found the fried remains of Millicent Pond. Carbon’s usually burning-bright pilot light had been snuffed out by the torrential downpour on that fateful day. It had been the perfectly crappy ending to a disaster of a vacation. It was also the fourth murder investigation I’d been involved with in as many months. The Coven Isles, previously a peaceful group of magical islands, seemed to be in the grip of some kind of murderous killing spree.
Millie sprayed some of the water on her own hand. We watched, quiet, as the water made contact with her skin. My assistant gasped as her droopy eyes flew open. She rubbed her hand furiously on her gayly printed silk blouse. She sprayed again. This time she didn’t wipe it on her blouse, but instead, waited for a few seconds. Her pained expression gradually softened. I gave Millie an almost imperceptible nod. Yep, this is happening, and it’s weird.
“Okay, I know this is the Coven Isles, and a lot of freaky things tend to happen,” she finally said. “But I have no explanation as to how regular water can go from feeling like a wet flame and back to regular water in the space of two sprays.”
I looked toward my zippy kitty. “How are your eyes feeling now, Jetstream?”
“N-not as bad,” Jet admitted, blinking. “It’s like someone just turned off a light switch.”
“I’m telling you all; it’s the Fae!” Fraidy shrilled from behind the collapsed tea display. “Who else’d do something as weird as this?”
“Grandma’s Book of Shadows could probably name a few suspects,” I suggested, hoping that would calm him down. Silly me.
“You mean you could have peed off somebody ELSE besides those troublesome Mag Mellian’s?!” My timid cat’s eyes bulged at the idea.
“Okay, not that I don’t love speculating on freaky random occurrences as much as the next girl,” Millie said, leaning across the counter as if to make a comfy bed of it. “But if I don’t get some of your patented ‘awake’ medicine soon, Hattie, I’m going to be useless for the rest of the day.”
“More useless than usual?” Gloom opined from the top shelf of dried flowers. She had nestled in between the Chamomile and Valerian Root. Must remember to add those particular herbs to Midnight’s next concoction.
“Gloom!” I snapped.
“Hey, you keep interrupting my sleep, I keep thro
wing out insults. Fair exchange if you ask me. Anyone notice that Midnight and Millie’s afflictions are the reverse of the other? Midnight can’t sleep in the day, and Millie can’t sleep at nighttime. Maybe our panic-pants brother is actually on the right track.” A shiver shot down my spine as I guided my friend and helper to the kitchen out back.
“So, Midnight’s still having trouble with day sleeping?” Millie asked as we walked. The stove was boiling some (hopefully regular) hot water in Grandma’s old tea kettle.
“It took a double dose of Gran’s knockout tea this morning to get him snoozy,” I admitted. “It won’t put him under — he’s too far gone for that — but, hopefully, it’ll make him doze for an hour or two.” I pulled the whistling pot from the range. “Now, sleepyhead, let me see if I can work the same kind of magic for you.” After pouring her tea, I added six drops of rosemary and four of grapefruit essential oil to the diffuser. My favorite Hocus Focus blend.
My assistant gave me a tight hug. “Bast, Hattie, you’re not making it easy for me to keep up the story that you’re the boss from hell,” she teased playfully. I nudged her with my shoulder. “I’m making this tea for you so you can …” I paused. “…Get back to work!” I glared at my gaping-mouthed friend as I shouted the last words. I feigned the best demonic look I could muster. We burst into a fit of laughter. As shatteringly tired as Millie was, I was relieved to see she still had her sense of humor.
“Okay, let’s see what we can do here, huh? You’ll be The Angel’s first order of the day.” I turned from Millie to blend what was hopefully a wakeful agent for my afflicted friend.
Millie definitely seemed more alert, no more than an hour later. She still wasn’t a hundred percent, but my helper assured me it was enough to stay functional for the day’s business. To keep her from having any relapses, I had her work on the day’s delivery schedule. There were some logistics involved in delivery-scheduling, so I hoped it would keep her mind active. Five minutes at the front counter and she’d likely have been using it for a bed. Without even thinking how it’s schedule looked.
Moggies, Magic and Murder Page 1