“Yes, ma’am.” She gulped, her palms growing sweaty. The Oracle’s auric waves pulsed. “How long until I need it?”
“Within three days, according to my dream. After that, it won’t matter.” The Oracle shrugged casually. “But that should be enough time to save Christmas.”
Save Christmas? Was the woman freaking kidding? Could she be any more vague?
The Oracle gathered her coat about her. “Oh, and you’ll need holly to complete the potion.”
“Holly,” she repeated, looking down at the package as though it were a bomb starting to tick. Three days to save Christmas?
The Grecian beauty waited for her to unlock the door and reached for the handle—then turned back. “You must protect it—and yourself. There are people who would be willing to kill for a scant crumb of the Fruitcake of Youth. Remember, do not let anyone know you have it.”
“Yes, ma’am. The Fruitcake of Youth?”
The woman’s eyes glazed over and she raised a hand toward Elizabeth, though she didn’t answer her. In a voice full of power, the Oracle uttered, “You have been chosen and will be rewarded with your heart’s desire if you perform this task well.” Then the eyes brightened and the woman actually smiled, throwing her for a loop. “Have a nice day, Ms. Lee. I will expect a report in three days.”
A moment after she left, Chicory entered, looking back over her shoulder. “What was that about?”
Oh, I’ve just been entrusted to safeguard a piece of magical Fruitcake of Youth. Your everyday transaction with the Oracle of Delphi. You know. Three days to save Christmas and all that.
But what she said, with a shrug, was, “She told me not to say anything.”
“You know that’s just going to drive me crazy.”
“Me, too, actually.” Oh, boy, did she wish she could share.
Chicory’s eyes fell on the wrapped package and narrowed. “And what is that? She left you something?”
Elizabeth picked it up, carefully. “I’ll just put this away now.”
“This what?”
Elizabeth looked at her friend. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy and I’m sorry because I could really use your perspective on this. Help me out by not prying...?”
Chicory sighed. “You’re really going to drive me crazy.”
Elizabeth walked into the back room. Where did one hide a valuable piece of magical fruitcake that people would kill to steal?
She had a safe, but was that too obvious?
She walked through her office and stared at the safe in the adjoining workshop. It would have to do for now. She’d cast a concealment spell to hide the entire safe.
As she set the small package next to her important papers and locked the safe, she shook her head.
Were there really people who would come looking for this, willing to harm others to get it? She sighed. Sometime in the next three days, she’d have to make a potion to save Christmas.
What on earth had the Oracle gotten her into?
A Werewolf She’d Been Casually Dating
Daniel Grant adjusted the scarf about his neck. The chilly December wind blew straight through him as he walked the perimeter of Moonchuckle Bay’s Town Square. He passed City Hall and crossed Wolfman Walk. The shop he was seeking stood between the werewolves’ Blue Moon Sports Bar and the local coven’s Bubbling Cauldron.
He hoped the proprietress of Drops of Magic was as good at mixing potions as Chicory, his new neighbor, had claimed.
The storefront was narrower than the two on either side, but cozy. Stained glass pictures of flowers and herbs hung in large frames in each of the two windows, catching the light. One spelled out Drops of Magic.
His mother needed some magic right about now.
Pushing his way inside, he immediately felt the warmth, welcoming him in.
There was no one inside the shop, and his first impression was that it was both quirky and professional. Glass counters lined two walls, along one side and the back, with glass vials standing in supports, both empty and filled.
Something from the back of the store called to him, something he’d never felt before. He had no clue what it was, but he felt … odd. As though he needed whatever the item was. Probably some powerful magical artifact they had back there.
He walked toward the seating area set along the third wall. Two bookshelves were filled with spell books and witch movies—The Wizard of Oz and Bewitched among them—and a curio cabinet loaded with miscellaneous items—a witch’s hat, candles, a magic wand which he could feel was not magical at all, and a broomstick. He touched it with a smile. No magic there, either, but the human tourists would love it.
A small painted sign on the wall proclaimed Resting Witch Face. Draped over the back of a high-backed chair was a T-shirt with the words Not Every Witch Lives in Salem. On a wrought-iron cauldron-shaped jewelry holder hung chains with crystals. Ah, now those did have magic, but nothing a human would notice. He touched the largest one. It was pure magic, enough so he might buy one for his mother. If…
“May I help you?” a melodious voice asked.
He turned—and stopped, frozen in place.
Before him stood the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen in his thirty-five years. Long red hair practically glowed in the light, highlighting blue eyes and a sweet smile. She glowed. And every nerve in his body felt her presence like a fire rushing through him. Every brush fire, bonfire, and forest fire combined into one, racing through him, burning him.
“Sir?” she asked, worry sparking in her eyes.
He found himself smiling at her. “Are you Elizabeth Lee?”
“I am.”
“I moved into the house next to Chicory Connolly, who highly recommends your shop. The word genius was bandied about.”
She smiled, and his knees actually weakened. “Well, she is a good friend.”
He motioned around the shop. “You have a nice place here.”
Her face lit up. “Thank you. We just opened earlier today.”
“I know. I’ve been waiting for today so I could come in.”
“Do you know what type of potion you need?”
That jolted him from the attraction flooding through him. Oh, yes, he’d come in to purchase a potion. He’d forgotten for a moment. He cleared his throat and, hopefully, his brain. He was sure she could sense his magic, just as he could sense hers.
“I need a pain potion.”
“Who will it be for and how powerful?” she asked in a wary tone.
“My mother is...” He sighed. “She’s dying and in constant pain. I need something powerful and, if you are indeed a genius, something powerful that will not make her too drowsy. I don’t have much time left with her.”
“I do have healing potions.”
“There is only one thing that can heal her, but I appreciate your offering.”
“I’m sorry. I can certainly create a pain potion for her. Did you bring in anything belonging to her?”
He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a paper wrapped around a small lock of his mother’s hair.
Elizabeth Lee smiled, taking the lock and closing her eyes, absorbing the magical imprint. When she opened her eyes, they were sympathetic. “She is in a great deal of pain. I can fix that.”
“How long will it take to create?”
“I can have it for you by closing time tonight. Eight o’clock.”
Relief flooded through him. It had been torture watching his mother suffer. She was only fifty-four but, when she turned fifty-five next week, on Christmas Day, she would die. He couldn’t stop the curse, but he could stop her pain. “Thank you. I’ll come back for it then.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” the angel asked, and he knew right then he could be falling in love.
He didn’t believe in love at first sight—but there were Lifemates for vampires, werewolves, and, yes, even warlocks.
He definitely felt what was either the Lifemate thing—or the flu. His stomach flut
tered, his heart pounded, and warmth flowed through him like a cozy fire. Yes, maybe the flu. But he could actually feel the connection with this woman, could sense their auras touching and meshing. Could she be his Lifemate?
He hadn’t been interested in women for a long time, and now, with his mother so ill, was an inconvenient time to realize he wanted this one. But he wasn’t one to miss a golden opportunity, and this woman, with her near-glowing red hair and blue eyes, was a golden opportunity if he’d ever seen one.
He smiled at the woman of his dreams. “Would you permit me to take you on a date tomorrow?”
Stunned, Elizabeth stared at the man.
Chicory had been right. He was exceedingly handsome and exactly Elizabeth’s type—if, by her type, Chicory had meant he would melt her into a lovestruck puddle on the floor of her shop.
Elizabeth hadn’t dated in over a year, not since she’d broken up with a werewolf she’d been casually dating. He’d been more of a friend, anyway.
But this man could be a relationship. They didn’t know each other, but she had the feeling she’d known him forever, could trust him.
Surprised, she found herself answering him with a resounding, “Yes.”
“May I meet you here at noon, take you to lunch, and then we can spend some time in Town Square?”
She nodded. Chicory could take care of the store for her, though she’d razz her about taking hours off during the second day of her shop’s existence. “I’d love that.”
He shot her a devilish grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Oh, wait, no, I’ll see you tonight. To pick up the potion.”
And then he’d walked out of the shop, and she’d felt his absence like a physical aura ache.
What Did This Snow Pixie Know?
Elizabeth had barely slept last night because of the anticipation of seeing Daniel again. There had been a strong flare of attraction between them again when he’d come to pick up the Ache-Break potion she’d created for his mother, who should have finally gotten a good night’s sleep.
Chicory had been delighted to watch the shop—especially so she could see the two of them together. “I just had a feeling you’d like him.”
“Let’s see how today goes. Yesterday might have been a fluke.”
But she knew it wasn’t. When he’d walked into the shop promptly at noon, she’d started melting again.
“Have fun, you two,” Chicory sing-songed as he helped her on with her coat.
Blushing, Elizabeth waved and shot a look at her friend, who smirked.
He’d taken her to A Bite to Eat Café, where they’d both ordered the Halloween Lunch Special. The Christmas Special wasn’t served until dinner.
It was amazing, but she was able to chat with him as though they were old friends. Even the silences felt companionable.
The owner, Ilene, carried over their Halloween Specials—stuffed bright-orange peppers carved into jack-o-lanterns, green beans, and long skinny breadbones with marinara “blood” dipping sauce.
After Ilene left, he asked, “How long have you lived in Moonchuckle Bay?”
“My whole life.”
“I repeat,” he said with a smile. “How long have you lived here?”
“Twenty-eight years.”
“You don’t look a day over twenty-three.”
“Thanks,” she said, and his words made her think of the stupid Fruitcake of Youth. “Where did you move from?”
“Roswell, New Mexico.” He waited for the standard question. She didn’t disappoint.
“Really? So were the aliens real?”
“No,” he said, “but the supernaturals living there are, like here.”
“Why’d you move?”
Ilene returned to their table with a plate holding one Poison Apple, an apple with black caramel wrapped around it. “Just desserts, kids.”
“Looks horrible,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. Daniel had suggested they just order one so they could share a snow cone after.
“Thanks.” Ilene smiled and moved away.
The apple wasn’t poisoned, but was decadently sweet. When only the stick was left, Daniel paid for their meals, and stood, reaching out a hand to her.
She took it, and a jolt of electricity shot up her arm. Her eyes widened and his head tipped, so she thought he must have felt it, too. He let go reluctantly to open the door for her.
Outside, they zipped their jackets against the cold. “Did Chicory tell you about Jingle’s snow cones?”
“Chicory and my mom’s cousin and about a dozen other townsfolk. I can hardly wait.”
“They’re good. I think I have a little room left.”
“Perfect.” He took her hand again.
She intertwined her fingers with his. Surprisingly, it felt right to walk along connected to him like that.
They crossed the street from the café into Town Square and sauntered along, with him pointing out the movie crew shooting a scene in the far end of the park. She nodded. “They film here often and use tourists as extras. It’s part of the allure of this monster movie town. Tourists hope for a starring role. It actually happened once, back in the 1990s.”
They headed first to the gigantic tree set up in the middle of Town Square, complete with normal Christmas ornaments mixed with monster-movie stuff. At the top, instead of an angel or a star, there was a dragon with its wings outstretched. Not the real dragon, of course, just a plastic replica.
After walking around the tree, they kept wandering and, before she knew it, they were standing at the Craved Ice booth. She waved at Jingle, a snow pixie and the maker of magical snow cones—and at Dixie, a garden pixie who was apparently helping her today.
“Hey Elizabeth! How are you?” Jingle asked.
Dixie eyed their linked hands with open curiosity.
Elizabeth laughed. “Ladies, I’d like for you to meet Daniel Grant. He’s a newcomer in town and lives next door to Chicory. Daniel, these are my friends, Jingle Belle Noel and Dixie Murphy.”
“It is a real pleasure to meet you both,” he said with that heart-melting smile.
“So you’ve come for one of Jingle’s famous snow cones,” Dixie said.
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, we have.”
Dixie grinned. “Okay, Jingle, work your magic.”
As Jingle reached over the counter of the booth to take Daniel’s free hand and hold it, reading whatever it was she did to work her magic, Dixie said, “I’m just here for comic relief, I guess, because I definitely don’t have the snow magic required for this gig.”
Jingle reached out for Elizabeth’s hand, and she felt a tingle of magic at the touch. She wasn’t sure what Jingle’s magic was, exactly, but knew it was unique.
Jingle had escaped from Snowville, close to the North Pole, about seven years before, and her now-husband, Nicholas Noel, had been the bounty hunter sent to return her to her abusive uncle, who was marrying her off to a horrid man. Jingle had only told her the story once, but Elizabeth had been appalled and hoped someday to drive the karma bus up to Snowville.
Jingle went to work, studying the rack of flavorings, then pulled out several bottles and set them down. A few moments later, there were two flashes of light, and she handed them over. The first one went to Elizabeth, and Jingle proclaimed, “Holly and mistletoe for you.”
Startled, Elizabeth took the green concoction. Holly? The Oracle had said she’d need holly, but surely this wasn’t what she’d meant? Was it? Did this mean she didn’t have to wait for the holly she’d ordered on Amazon last night?
Then Jingle handed over a light brown snow cone with flecks of color. “And fruitcake for you.”
He took it with a laugh. “I hope it’s better than actual fruitcake.”
Jingle shuddered. “It is.”
Fruitcake?
Elizabeth stared at Jingle. What did this snow pixie know? She needed to get together with her and have a chat. Maybe after her date.
Jingle said, “I’m not sure how, but those two flavors g
o together.”
Definitely having a chat with Jingle later.
This Was an Impossible Task
“That must have been some date.” Chicory stared at her. “You’re still daydreaming about it.”
When Elizabeth’d returned from her date, the store had been hopping. A group of three tourists had just left, leaving the shop uncharacteristically quiet.
“Spill. Tell me all about it. He’s super dreamy looking.”
“Oh, Chicory, he is dreamy. He’s super nice and I really like him.”
“He couldn’t take his eyes off you. It was sooooo romantic.” Chicory sighed dramatically. “Where’d you go for lunch?”
“A Bite to Eat. And then we walked around Town Square, got a snow cone, and held hands.”
“Ohhhh. Holding hands on the first date.” Chicory smiled. “I haven’t had a first date in forever.”
“Stop telling men no and you could have one.” Elizabeth said, bumping shoulders with her friend.
“You should talk. We’re like the two most reclusive witches in history.” Chicory sighed. “And it looks like you’re about to ruin that. If you get involved with this guy, I’ll be left all alone.”
“You never minded before.”
“I don’t mean without a guy, silly. I mean without my best friend.” Chicory shrugged. “Oh, well. I’ve been a third wheel before.”
“I’ve only had one date with the guy.”
“Yeah, but I saw how you looked at him, too.”
Elizabeth chuckled and glanced at the big wall clock shaped like a black cat. It was 4:30. Chicory’d be here until closing at eight and a little after to straighten up.
She really couldn’t put it off any longer. She needed to examine the fruitcake and check its properties magically. Only then would she be able to get a clue about what to do with it in the next two days. Or at least what it even was.
“I guess I’d better go work on the task the Oracle set me to.” Elizabeth shot a glance at Chicory, who planted her hands on her hips.
Spells and Jinglebells Page 25