Once Upon a Witch: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Books 1-3

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Once Upon a Witch: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Books 1-3 Page 50

by Amanda M. Lee


  “That’s because you’re a good guy.” I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re the best guy.”

  “Oh, geez. Do you guys want some schmaltz with your cheese?” Thistle complained.

  Landon ignored her. “Come on, sweetie. I’ll get you a cookie.”

  “And I’ll handle Lila,” Chief Terry offered. “Am I the only one who feels as if we’re not making any progress on these wishes? Every single time we knock one down two pop up to take its place.”

  “They do seem to be getting ahead of us,” Landon agreed. “But we can only take it one step at a time. My first step is getting Bay a cookie. After that, we’ll talk strategy.”

  Chief Terry nodded, resigned. “I’m on it. Come on, Lila. I’m sure they’re missing you at the prison.”

  “I really do hate you,” Lila sneered as she moved past me.

  I couldn’t muster much energy to even fake hurt feelings. “I don’t plan to lose any sleep over that.”

  There’s a shooting star. I’d make a wish … but I already have everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m not sure when it happened, but there it is.

  – Bay to Landon as they watch the night sky

  Fifteen

  Even though we were exhausted, we decided to hit up Mrs. Little before calling it a night. Landon called his boss and said there was a family emergency – citing the fact that I was attacked by a group of teenagers and needed someone to take care of me – to avoid heading into the Traverse City office the following day. I was happy he would be close, but not thrilled with the idea of his co-workers thinking I was beaten by teenagers.

  “Did he laugh?”

  “Who?” Landon was distracted as he found a parking spot behind Mrs. Little’s store. A few months ago the store had been firebombed and undergone extensive renovations. It was back in operation and the lights were on.

  “Your boss.”

  “Did he laugh about what?” Landon was confused as he killed the engine.

  “The fact that I got beat up by teenagers.”

  “Oh.” Landon’s lips curved at my discontent. “Sweetie, I need to be here for at least one more day. That meant I had to come up with an excuse. You really were attacked by a group of teenagers, so it wasn’t an outright lie, which I prefer because my boss has the legal authority to arrest me.”

  “You could’ve told him I was upset because Lila escaped from prison,” I suggested. “That’s better than being terrorized by teenagers.”

  “Yes, well, I wasn’t sure exactly how Chief Terry explained that one, so I didn’t want to risk it,” Landon admitted. “I’m sure he’s not laughing. In fact, he probably thinks I exaggerated things so I could get an extra day with you.”

  I tilted my head to the side, considering. “That kind of makes you look like a sex fiend.”

  “I can live with that.”

  Landon linked his fingers with mine as we marched to the store. I could see Mrs. Little standing behind the counter through the window. She had at least four women loitering about listening to her. I recognized the women from the senior center. I couldn’t ever remember Mrs. Little making nice with them at any instance before this.

  “That’s odd,” I murmured, slowing my pace. “I thought those women hated Mrs. Little.”

  “Doesn’t every woman in this town hate Mrs. Little?”

  He had a point. Still … . “She must’ve wished to be popular or something. That’s all I can think.”

  “Well, she’s going to be difficult,” Landon noted. “We know that. How do you want to approach this?”

  “Punching her is out, right?”

  Landon snickered. “There’s a lot of punching going on today. I would appreciate it if you weren’t involved in another physical altercation. I’m pretty sure you can take Mrs. Little, but I would like you in one piece when we finally get to crawl under the covers and call it a day.”

  I cast him a sidelong look, curiosity getting the better of me. “Can I ask you something?”

  “I guess.”

  “What would you wish for if you could have anything?”

  Landon shrugged as he pressed his hand to the small of my back to urge me forward. “I have what I want, Bay. I guess I might wish for a new motorcycle, but I can save up and buy that eventually.”

  My heart rolled a bit at the admission. “That’s what I said,” I admitted. “We were talking about it in the kitchen before Lila showed up and I said I have everything I want. I added that I might like a new pair of boots, but I have everything else. We made jokes about having everything we wanted at the dedication the other day, but I really do have what I want.”

  Landon’s smile was earnest as he met my gaze. “I guess that’s what happens when you find the right person, huh?”

  “I think it’s because you’re so smoking hot I become blind to everything else.”

  “That was a marvelous answer.” Landon smacked a quick kiss against my lips. “Come on. Let’s see what the evil queen has in store for us, shall we?”

  The Unicorn Emporium was bustling with activity when we entered. Lenore Duncan, a coffee cup from the bakery in her hand, stood close to the counter as Mrs. Little regaled her audience with a terrific story about … hmm, I couldn’t really figure out what story she was telling, to be honest.

  “And then I said I thought that pea green was an abysmal color and she just shut right up,” Mrs. Little said. “It was so funny. Oh, hello, Bay. Agent Michaels.”

  “Mrs. Little.” Landon kept his smile in place as he regarded her. “How are you this evening?”

  “I’m wonderful. Thank you. How are you?”

  “It’s been a long day,” Landon replied.

  “It looks like that’s certainly the case.” Mrs. Little’s studied gaze fell on me. “I’m generally not a fan of beating women, but I guess Bay had it coming, huh?”

  Landon scowled. “That’s not funny.”

  “Leave him alone,” I ordered, shaking my head. “I got beat up by a bunch of teenagers.” Hmm. That didn’t sound any better. There was no making that story sound better, quite frankly. I probably should’ve stuck with Thistle’s suggestion and named her as the culprit. “We need to talk to you, Mrs. Little.”

  “As you can see, I’m busy.” Mrs. Little always fancied herself above everyone else. Now that she apparently had fans, she was practically unbearable.

  “That wasn’t a request,” Landon interjected, flashing his badge. “This is official business.”

  Her audience exchanged nervous looks as they edged toward the door.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow, Margaret.” I didn’t bother to glance over my shoulder to see which of them called out the farewell.

  “You don’t have to leave,” Mrs. Little protested. “They don’t have the power to make you go.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  I waited until the door closed to fix Mrs. Little with a tight smile. Now that she didn’t have an audience to play to she appeared nervous. “What did you wish for?” I thought about easing into the question, but there really didn’t seem to be a reason to indulge in games.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mrs. Little sputtered, surprised. “Why would you ask me something like that?”

  “Because the wishing well is creating quite the uproar in town,” I answered, unruffled. “It seems wishes are coming true … and then turning into something ugly.”

  Mrs. Little narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the wishes are turning on the people casting them,” I replied. “Nelson Lyons wished for … well … female adoration. That’s how I got this black eye. A few other people wished for things like ponies and bigger homes without thinking how that would end up. I’m guessing you wished for popularity, or to have friends who actually liked you.”

  “I’ll have you know, Bay, that I’m a very popular person,” Mrs. Little sniffed. “I didn’t wish for anything.”

  “I was at
the dedication ceremony,” I reminded her. “I saw you toss a coin in the well. You had to wish for something.”

  “I was busy that day.” The tilt of Mrs. Little’s chin told me that she was lying. She was way too obvious. “I tossed the coin in for looks. I didn’t make a wish.”

  “I know that you did.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Landon rested his hand on my shoulder to still me. “Mrs. Little, lying to us won’t change the facts. The wish is going to turn on you. It could go so far that your new fans turn into stalkers and try to kill you.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing when I realized what he was doing. Mrs. Little was paranoid on a good day. Once Landon told her that people might be coming after her she was bound to have a meltdown.

  “If you want to stay safe, you need to go back to the well and reverse your wish,” Landon added. “We’ve been visiting everyone, and that seems to solve the problem.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” Mrs. Little growled, her agitation obvious. “You’re saying that people are making real wishes in the well? Like magic?”

  She was good. She was trying to back us into a corner. “We’re saying that you need to reverse your wish or face the consequences,” I clarified. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, dinner is waiting at the inn. Good luck.”

  “SOMETHING smells good.”

  Landon has a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to food, and he was all smiles when we hit the dining room. The table was free of guests because they had checked out earlier in the day. I was nervous when I realized the Leerys were gone.

  “Did someone handle Mr. and Mrs. Leery and their … um … reconnection?”

  “I did,” Thistle replied, glaring at me. “I knew you forgot thanks to your black eye, so I was trying to do you a favor. That was before I got my own black eye, of course.”

  We did make quite the pair, and I had to stifle my laughter as I sat next to Landon. He positioned himself between Aunt Tillie and me, and if my great-aunt’s expression was any indication, she was in quite a mood.

  “Well, thanks for handling them,” I offered. “I forgot all about them with everything that’s been going on. Were they upset about rolling back the wish?”

  “Actually, Mrs. Leery said she made enough memories for another lifetime and would be happy to give her hoo-ha a rest,” Thistle answered. “That was her word, not mine, by the way. I would never use that word.”

  “Hoo-ha,” Landon and Marcus said in unison, drawing out the syllables and bursting into gales of childish laughter.

  Thistle rolled her eyes and reached for a bottle of wine. “How did things go with Mrs. Little?”

  “She denied making a wish,” I replied. “Landon warned her that her fans would likely turn on her and try to kill her if she didn’t reverse it, and then we left her with her paranoia.”

  “That was probably smart,” Chief Terry said, appearing in the doorway. “Do you have room for one more? I’m too tired to get my own dinner tonight.”

  “We always have room for you,” Mom said, beaming when she saw him. “Take a seat next to me.”

  “That’s my chair,” Marnie complained.

  “You can take a seat down there.” Mom jerked her head toward the empty end of the table. “Terry wants to sit by me.”

  My mother and aunts are in a weird competition for Chief Terry’s affection. I have no idea what they’ll do if one of them ever nabs him, but Chief Terry seems fine with them doting on him.

  “I think I’ll sit next to Bay so we can cut down on any problems,” Chief Terry supplied. “I’m too tired to walk around the table anyway. It’s been one freaky long day.”

  “You poor thing.” Twila made a clucking sound as she maneuvered around the table, not stopping until she stood behind Chief Terry so she could dig her fingers into his neck and give him a massage. “Here. I’ll take care of you.”

  Mom and Marnie exchanged dark looks as they glared at Twila while I shifted on my chair and cast him a sidelong look. His cheeks colored when he felt multiple sets of eyes on him, but he didn’t dissuade Twila from her massage.

  “So, what else is new?” Chief Terry asked, changing the subject. “Have we managed to track down everyone who made wishes?”

  “Doubtful,” Landon replied, pouring me a glass of wine. “We could barely keep up with what we heard about today. You just know there are people out there who wished for some really wild things. We’ll have to look for them tomorrow.”

  Chief Terry arched an eyebrow, surprised. “Tomorrow? Don’t you have work?”

  “I called in.”

  “He told his boss I got beat up by a bunch of teenagers and he had to take care of me,” I supplied. “I’m sure they’re laughing themselves silly over there.”

  “I told you that he probably thought that was an excuse so we could spend the day in bed,” Landon argued. “Chill out.”

  “You have a dirty mind,” Mom complained, cuffing the back of Landon’s head after delivering the platter of turkey to the middle of the table. “I thought some comfort food was in order for everyone today. I thought Sam and Clove would be here, too, but we have more than enough if they show up late. Dig in.”

  “I think they’re at the Dandridge,” Thistle supplied. “Sam was a little embarrassed that we all found out about his wishing for respect. I’m sure Clove is massaging his … ego … even as we speak.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a good massage,” Twila said, oblivious.

  “Speaking of that, why don’t you let me take over?” Marnie suggested.

  I shifted a hard look in Chief Terry’s direction. This was too weird to be normal. “Did you make a wish?” I hissed, horrified.

  Chief Terry balked. “No! Why would you think that?”

  “Because they’re acting weirder than normal.”

  “Did you ever think that’s how they roll?” Chief Terry was affronted. “I’m a popular guy. Sometimes people just like me.”

  “I don’t think they’re acting any odder than normal,” Landon volunteered. “I think they thrive on the competition.”

  He had a point, still … . “If you could make a wish, what would it be?”

  Chief Terry appeared surprised by the question. “I don’t know. I haven’t given it a lot of thought.”

  “There must be something,” I pressed. “I would want boots and Landon would want a new motorcycle.”

  “I don’t need any physical goods,” Chief Terry said.

  “What do you need?”

  Chief Terry shifted in his chair, licking his lips. “Fine. If you must know, I would wish to be your father and go back in time and raise you from the beginning.”

  His answer stunned me … and filled me with warmth at the same time. “Really?”

  “Yes. But I wouldn’t actually make that wish because you already have a father. I’m happy with the way things are, though, in the grand scheme of things.”

  Tears pricked the back of my eyes as Landon rubbed my neck. “Oh. Um … .”

  “Don’t cry, sweetie,” Landon comforted. “He said a nice thing. But you’ll make him regret it if you’re not careful.”

  “I know. I … .” I found myself struggling to find the right words. Chief Terry had the best heart of anyone I knew. He took a special interest in me when I was younger, and always went out of his way to make sure that Thistle, Clove and I had everything we needed.

  “It’s okay.” Chief Terry patted my hand. “If you cry I’ll cry, and I’ll never forgive you for that.”

  I stifled a sob. “Okay.”

  “Oh, geez. We really are the schmaltz family,” Thistle complained. “Aunt Tillie, you’d better find a way to reverse that spell or we’re all going to die in a schmaltz eruption.”

  “I’m working on it, mouth. Mind your own business.” Aunt Tillie huffed out a sigh as she reached for her wine. “It’s not as easy as you’d like.”

  Something occurred to me as I reached for the pl
atter of turkey. “Speaking of fathers … .”

  I left the sentence hanging and Thistle made a face when she realized what I was insinuating. “Oh, crap. What if they wished for something funky?”

  “I guess we’ll find out after dinner,” Landon said, resigned. “Everyone eat up. We’re probably going to need the carbs.”

  Oh, yeah? Do you know what I wish? I wish I wasn’t a part of this family! You’re all embarrassing, and I would rather live in a tree with the Keebler elves than hang around you people. At least they have cookies, and no one fills them with guilt and disappointment when they bake them.

  – Clove Winchester, age 11, when her mother gave her a list of chores she wanted completed for the weekend

  Sixteen

  “I am not looking forward to explaining this.”

  I rubbed my sweaty palms against my jeans as Landon navigated the dark road that led to the Dragonfly, the competing inn my father and uncles own on the other side of Hemlock Cove.

  “They’re probably going to think we’re crazy and to blame,” I added, my stomach twisting.

  “Crazy is a state of mind, and technically we are to blame,” Thistle offered from the back seat. She wasn’t happy when I insisted she join us, but ultimately she didn’t put up much of a fuss. “Aunt Tillie did this, and the entire town is suffering.”

  “I can’t figure out what she was thinking,” I muttered. “She’s the one who always told us not to cast spells when we were drunk … or high … or sexually aroused.”

  “Oh, geez.” Landon made a face. “How old were you when she imparted that last little nugget of wisdom?”

  “That was last week.”

  Despite himself and the serious situation, Landon chuckled. “Oh, well, I guess that’s okay then.”

  “She’s been in a mood for the past week,” Thistle said. “I think something happened with Mrs. Little and it pushed her over the edge. I’m not sure why she decided to go about her vengeance this way, but she’s going to have to think of a way to reverse the spell … and soon.”

 

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