The Professor Woos The Witch (Nocturne Falls Book 4)

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The Professor Woos The Witch (Nocturne Falls Book 4) Page 1

by Kristen Painter




  THE PROFESSOR

  WOOS THE WITCH

  Nocturne Falls, Book Four

  Kristen Painter

  Welcome to Nocturne Falls, the town that celebrates Halloween 365 days a year. The tourists think it’s all a show: the vampires, the werewolves, the witches, the occasional gargoyle flying through the sky. But the supernaturals populating the town know better.

  Living in Nocturne Falls means being yourself. Fangs, fur, and all.

  Pandora Williams is Nocturne Falls’ most successful real estate agent. And least successful witch. Her magic never has the intended outcome, but she’s learned to live with that. Mostly. Yes, it sucks, but what can she do? Then a hot new neighbor shows up and suddenly her magic works. Very cool, but very suspect. Especially since he’s a total non-believer.

  Cole Van Zant likes practicality and absolutes. Things he can see and touch. So not magic. But when his teenage daughter insists she’s a witch—and they’re now living in a town that celebrates Halloween every day—he needs help. Of the witchy variety. Thankfully, his sexy neighbor buys into all that hocus pocus.

  Enlisting her help seems like a great idea until spending time together reveals a supernatural surprise about who Cole really is. A secret even he didn’t know. Could Pandora and Cole really be meant for one another or is their attraction too much to believe?

  THE PROFESSOR WOOS THE WITCH:

  Nocturne Falls, Book Four

  Copyright © 2015 Kristen Painter

  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—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-941695-06-7

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  Dedicated to all my readers

  with endless thanks for being so awesome and keeping me going.

  Cole Van Zant’s running shoes pounded the well-maintained sidewalks of his Nocturne Falls neighborhood. Restoring the house he’d just inherited usually gave him plenty of exercise, but tonight, after the blowout with Kaley, he’d needed to run. And think. Things had changed so much so fast.

  This was the first September in many years that he wasn’t standing in front of a classroom full of freshmen explaining the intricacies of higher math. Teaching math in some form had been Cole’s life until he’d taken a sabbatical from East State University, but if he was going to restore this house to its maximum resale potential, taking a year off was the only way to do it.

  And really, the sale of the house would yield more money than he could ever hope to make teaching for the next few years.

  The money that had come with the inheritance of the house was making everything possible, including the temporary move to Nocturne Falls. He’d known he had family in Georgia, but until he’d gotten the news that Ulysses Pilcher, his great-uncle on his mother’s side, had passed and left Cole everything (everything meaning a three-story Victorian-style mansion and a nice chunk of change) Cole hadn’t known this crazy town existed.

  The downside was that the chunk of change from the inheritance was probably going to get eaten up making the house saleable.

  The upside was that selling the house should net him a decent-size nest egg that’d grow into a huge nest egg for Kaley’s college fund and his retirement years. And seeing as how working construction had been his summer job for more years than he’d been teaching, he could do most of the repairs and restoration himself.

  He took the next left, intent on making a wide square around the neighborhood.

  Kaley hadn’t wanted to leave North Carolina to come to Georgia, and frankly, Cole hadn’t wanted to bring her with him. He’d already talked to his dad about Kaley staying with him until Cole finished the house, but then she’d Googled the town of Nocturne Falls. After that, her attitude had done a one-eighty, and she’d pitched a bloody fit until he’d agreed to let her come.

  He understood that a town where Halloween was celebrated every day must seem like a fun way to live to a kid of thirteen.

  He’d explained that moving meant leaving her friends and going to a new school for a year, but she hadn’t cared. Instead, she’d clung to the fact that it was the perfect town for a witch-in-training like herself.

  Which was what had started the current and ongoing round of arguments. Cole had stopped trying to explain to his daughter that there were no such things as witches. Sure, there were Wiccans, but not the kinds of witches she was talking about, the kind she saw in movies and on TV, the ones who waved their hands and wiggled their noses and made magic happen. Those did not exist.

  Kaley insisted. Cole rebutted her. And so on and so on.

  He blamed Lila for that particular issue.

  Lila. Just thinking her name made his vision go red around the edges. She was reason enough for a man to never want to be involved with a woman again. Cole concentrated on breathing out when his left foot struck the ground, a technique he’d read about that was supposed to prevent cramping up, and tried to keep his stride easy despite the charge of anger in his system.

  Lila hadn’t been in Kaley’s life in a meaningful way for a long time. A once-a-month phone call and the rare, maybe yearly visit didn’t constitute active parenting. But then, Lila wasn’t legally Kaley’s parent anymore. Lila and Cole had been divorced since Kaley was nine, which was when he’d gotten full custody too.

  For Lila to just out of the blue drop the kid a letter when she turned thirteen and announce, You’re a witch now!—that was so…Lila.

  Sweat trickled down his back. It was one thing for Lila to live under the crazy delusion that she was a master of all things hocus-pocus (which she wasn’t), but to make Kaley think it was somehow her birthright? To tell the kid she’d so casually left behind that any day now Kaley should be coming into her powers was just cruel. Especially when she hadn’t bothered to be in Kaley’s life with any kind of consistency for the last six years.

  Cole swore between measured breaths. Maybe his ex-wife was a witch. Once upon a time, she’d certainly charmed him into thinking she was sweet and wonderful. That hadn’t lasted long, though. He’d stayed for Kaley.

  The same moody, eye-rolling teen who was currently not speaking to him.

  He turned the corner and headed home, slowing down to cool off. The house loomed ahead as twilight fell. Even in this light, the paint looked sad through the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the once impressive property. One more thing to add to his list of jobs.

  He jogged through the open gate, past the dumpster in the driveway, already half-full with junk from the house, up the steps of the front porch and stopped for a stretch. He’d check in with Kaley, take a hot shower, heat up some leftovers for dinner and then hit the sack. Tomorrow he hoped to tackle the final cleanout of the first floor. Then maybe he could get started on demolishing the kitchen. It would mean they’d have to rely on takeout for a bit, but Kaley had yet to complain about pizza.

  Actually, until Lila’s letter, Kaley had never been much of a complainer. Of course, she was just now hitting the dreaded teen years, so maybe that was all about to change. He sighed and went inside.
“Kaley? Sweetheart? I’m back.”

  No response. Not that he really expected one. She was probably in her room, earbuds firmly tucked in, tablet on her lap and open to yet another online witch wannabe forum. He sprinted up the steps and knocked at her door. It swung open.

  He stuck his head in. “Kaley, I—” She wasn’t in her room.

  He walked into his room at the end of the hall and looked out the rear windows into the thicket that was the backyard. Not there either, that he could see. Maybe she was on the back porch. Downstairs he went. Back porch was empty.

  A small thread of alarm unraveled in his brain. She had to be in the house. He opened the basement door. A wave of mustiness rose up to greet him. He wrinkled his nose. It was dark and damp and packed to the rafters with boxes of whatever his great-uncle had decided had value. No way she was down there. Not in the dark. “Kaley?”

  He got the answer he’d been expecting. Silence.

  He ran up the steps and checked all the rooms on the second floor. She was probably taking a shower. But the shower wasn’t running. And she wasn’t in any of the other rooms, which were as filled with stuff as the basement.

  That left the attic. It was a big space. The whole third floor. They’d been up there once when they’d first arrived. It had junk in it too, but not nearly as much as the other floors, and unlike in the rest of the house, the junk up there was organized. Also slightly creepy. They’d found a box of animal bones on a shelf next to rows and rows of old glass jars, some empty, some not.

  He took a breath. For a girl who fancied herself a witch-in-training, that would probably be the perfect place to retreat from her less-than-understanding father. He snorted softly and went up the last flight of steps.

  But his search came to an end when he opened the attic door. The light was off. He highly doubted Kaley would be up here in the dark. He flipped the switch, and the bare overhead bulbs flickered on. The attic was empty.

  Kaley was gone.

  Pandora Williams dropped her purse and her briefcase on the table by the front door, kicked her shoes off, grabbed her chubby cat, Pumpkin, and headed for the bedroom to change. She gave Pumpkin’s pudgy belly a squeeze. “How was your day, sweetums? A lot more relaxed than mine, I’m guessing.”

  She plopped the purring cat onto the bed and opened a drawer to retrieve her at-home clothes: gym shorts and a tank top. She had stacks of each because they were the best way she knew to stay comfy and beat the Georgia heat, which lingered, even in September.

  She shucked her pantsuit and changed with a satisfied sigh. It had been a long day. Busy, which was good, always good, but she was beat. Two closings, a brand new listing and a showing. Being Nocturne Falls’ most popular real estate agent had its perks, but kept her moving too. She grabbed the first ponytail elastic she saw and knotted her hair on top of her head. Being a witch? That just gave her a little edge. She understood her supernatural customers much better than any human realtor could.

  Pumpkin waddled behind Pandora as she headed to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of pinot grigio from the wine fridge, set it on the counter, then spiraled her fingers around the top.

  The foil unwound in a long strip, like an apple peeling. Then she curled her fingers upwards. The cork wiggled free with a soft pop, flew across the room and ricocheted off the sliding doors that led to the backyard. She sighed. Her magic had always been faulty at best which was why she only used it for very small things, if at all. At least she hadn’t broken anything. This time.

  She talked to Pumpkin, who was now winding around her legs meowing for a snack, as she reached for a glass. “I know you want treats, but a little running around in the yard would be a lot better for you.”

  Pumpkin meowed again and pawed at Pandora’s leg.

  “Yes, I know. You want food. But you’re fat. And you’re on a diet. If you’d just spend time on the treadmill every morning like I do, this wouldn’t be a problem. Let’s go outside, and maybe you can run off a few calories.”

  Pumpkin’s diet had only started two days ago, and it was already clear that the cat thought very little of it.

  She pawed at Pandora in one more feeble attempt at treats.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is.” Pandora poured a big glug of wine into a double-walled insulated cup (not the classiest thing to drink wine out of, but she was home, wearing ratty gym shorts and a bedazzled tank top missing half its rhinestones, and who cared anyway), then headed for the back porch. She flipped the switch for the ceiling fans but left the lights off. The sun had just started to set, and there was still plenty of light to see by.

  Besides, this was her favorite time of day, that last hour or so before the world went completely dark but the air was still sweet with the scent of flowers and grass. Everything just seemed to quiet down and breathe easy as the day slipped into night. Twilight was enjoyed by a lot of supernaturals, not just witches, but her witchiness made her especially appreciative of nature.

  She stood at the sliding door, waiting for Pumpkin. “C’mon, poky cat.”

  Pumpkin plodded out onto the patio, and Pandora shut the sliders. The orange butterball made it about three steps before she flopped down, rolled over and lay with all four paws in the air. The ceiling fans ruffled her tummy fur.

  Pandora shook her head and snorted softly. “Pumpkin, you’re a mess. That is no way to burn calories.” She bent and scratched the cat’s belly. “Mama loves you, baby. We can both be a mess together.”

  She sat down on the glider and kicked her feet up on the rattan coffee table. Her yard was looking good thanks to the nights of work she’d put in weeding the flower beds and adding a flat of yellow and purple petunias.

  A long sip of wine and she settled a little deeper into the glider. Pumpkin hadn’t moved. Pandora reached for the bag of treats she kept on the side table.

  The first crinkle of foil and Pumpkin’s head came up, eyes wide. It was the closest thing to a sit-up the cat was capable of.

  Pandora laughed. “You’re so predictable.” She fished a treat out and tossed it into the stone path that led from the patio back to the shed, about five feet from where Pumpkin lay.

  The cat watched it land, then stared wistfully after it, but didn’t move.

  Pandora’s brows lifted in disbelief. “Seriously?” She tossed a second one. It landed close to the first.

  Pumpkin took a moment to consider it, then finally rolled onto her feet and trotted after it.

  Pandora tossed a third treat farther along the path. “I hope you know food-induced exercise probably doesn’t count.”

  Pumpkin didn’t seem to care. Pandora sealed the bag of treats and went back to sipping her wine. Pumpkin found the third treat, then got distracted by a bug and gave chase. Pandora nodded in satisfaction. “My plan worked.”

  She watched her orange fluff ball traipse around the yard, sniffing flowers and batting at insects. It was the perfect entertainment for drinking wine and relaxing after a long day. She thought about dinner and was about to get up and make herself a sandwich, aka Easy Dinner For Single People, when Pumpkin started scratching at the shed door.

  “Please don’t tell me that squirrel is in there again.” Pandora put her glass down then thought about just letting Pumpkin wear herself out. It was good exercise.

  Then the caterwauling started. For an overweight cat, Pumpkin had a very healthy set of lungs. Pandora jumped up. “Stop that before the neighbors think I’m killing you.”

  She ran out to where Pumpkin was and scooped her up. “Hush, you silly thing. Honestly, where are your hunter instincts? You have to be quiet to catch stuff. That squirrel is long gone by now.”

  But Pandora’s witchy senses were twitching. For a moment, she contemplated getting her shovel to brandish as a weapon, but the shovel was in the shed. So was her rake and her pruning shears. Basically, all her best weapons. If there was a serial killer hiding in there, he was well armed.

  “Bother.” Well, everyone had to d
ie sometime, right? She grabbed the handle of the shed and yanked it open.

  The transom windows on the side walls let in just enough light for her to see there was no squirrel.

  There was, however, a young girl sitting on Pandora’s gardening stool. She had a backpack at her feet, a bag of beef jerky on her lap and a smartphone in her hands. The screen was illuminated, lighting up her face. She stared at Pandora. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Pandora stared back. Then put Pumpkin on the ground. “Um, your beef jerky is making my cat crazy. Also, what are you doing in my shed?”

  The girl sealed up the bag of dried meat and tucked it in her backpack. “Hanging out.”

  A real conversationalist. “I can see that. Can I ask why you’re hanging out in my shed?”

  Sensing the jerky was no longer in play, but also realizing there was potentially a new source of tummy rubs, Pumpkin plopped down on the kid’s flip-flops and rolled over, exposing herself like the shameless hussy she was.

  “Nowhere else to go.” The girl shrugged, then reached down and scratched Pumpkin’s belly. “Hi, kitty. You want some jerky?”

  “No jerky for the cat. And what do you mean nowhere else to go? You don’t have a home?” A homeless teenager? In Nocturne Falls? Wearing really nice clothes and in possession of an iPhone? Pandora’s witchy senses were picking up the distinct aroma of manure. And that wasn’t just because the shed held all her gardening stuff.

  “I have a home.” The girl sighed. “I got kicked out.”

  Pandora dropped her snark for a second. “Why?”

  The girl stopped scratching Pumpkin to pick at the seam of her jeans. “Because…I’m a witch.”

 

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