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

by Amanda M. Lee

  “This can’t go on another day,” Landon agreed. “Every time we think we’ve caught up we realize we’re really still behind. It’s frustrating.”

  “And now your boss thinks that you’re a sex fiend … or that possibly I’m the sort of woman who gets beaten by teenagers,” I grumbled.

  “Who exactly is the type of woman who gets beaten by teenagers?” Marcus asked, his hand resting on Thistle’s knee in the back seat. He appeared to be trying to comfort her regarding her eye, but she wasn’t making things easy. “I’m confused about why that’s important.”

  “Ask Bay,” Thistle muttered.

  “I’m a little curious about that, too,” Landon admitted. “Why is it such a big deal that teenagers beat you up?”

  “Would you be happy if a gaggle of teen boys beat you up?” I challenged.

  “I … well … no,” Landon grudgingly admitted. “That’s different, though. I’m an FBI agent. You’re a mild-mannered reporter with a studly yet sensitive boyfriend. You weren’t to blame for what happened, so I’m not sure why you’re so upset about it.”

  “Of course you don’t understand. You’re not a woman.”

  “I’m a woman and I don’t understand,” Thistle admitted, tilting her head to the side. “Why is it such a big deal? Lila punched me. Things could be worse.”

  “I would’ve rather gotten punched by Lila.” I rubbed my cheek as weariness momentarily overtook me. “This makes it look as if I was actually fighting with teenagers over a boy and I just … it’s so annoying.”

  Landon snorted. “You’re really fired up about this. I guess I know what to tease you with next time I want to engage in a wrestling match, huh?”

  “I don’t see you laughing every time someone accuses you of being the one who did this.” I gestured toward my eye. “It’s the same thing.”

  “It is not the same thing,” Landon barked. “I would never hurt you. I hate that people think I would.”

  “No one who has ever met you thinks you did this.”

  “Chief Terry did.” Landon stubbornly kept his gaze focused out the front windshield.

  “Chief Terry didn’t think that,” Thistle corrected, taking me by surprise. “He saw Bay with a black eye and wanted to make someone pay. He never believed it was you. I think deep down you know that. You’re acting weird about it, though, which makes me think there’s some sort of story we’re missing.”

  I didn’t want to agree with Thistle on general principle – I could be stubborn, too, after all – but I was fairly certain she was on to something. “If you want to talk … .”

  “I’m fine,” Landon snapped, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip around the steering wheel. “As for no one believing I would do that to you, what do you think your father is going to say when he gets a gander at that eye?”

  My relationship with my father was difficult on the best day. What was about to happen at the Dragonfly couldn’t possibly be mistaken for the best of anything. “He won’t,” I said finally. “He knows you wouldn’t.”

  “He hates me, Bay, and he thinks I keep you from him,” Landon countered. “We’ve come to an uneasy truce because we both want what’s best for you, but we’re never going to be best friends.”

  I readjusted my attitude given the fact that Landon appeared to be legitimately struggling. “I won’t let him.”

  “You don’t have the power to stop that.” Landon’s tone was grim. “When was the last time you even saw your father?”

  The question was like a punch to the other eye, and I shifted on my seat. “Oh, um, I … huh.” That shouldn’t have been a hard question. In truth, I had a bit of resentment built up where my father was concerned. He and my uncles left when we were little, seeing us only sporadically throughout the years. They returned about a year ago and wanted to improve our relationships, but it wasn’t easy to do that given everyone’s feelings of abandonment.

  I never thought of myself as the type of person who would run from emotional turmoil … until my father returned to town and I did everything in my power to avoid him so I wouldn’t be dragged into a heavy conversation. That’s probably why it took me two days to even consider his wellbeing in the whole wish fiasco.

  “And there it is,” Landon intoned, his forehead wrinkling as he turned into the Dragonfly’s parking lot. “Bay, I don’t blame you for any of this. I don’t want you taking that on and ticking me off. Things are a mess right now. We’re doing our best, but it’s going to be ugly in here. Everyone needs to remain calm and things will be okay.”

  “Are you trying to convince us of that or yourself?” Thistle asked dryly.

  “You give me freaking heartburn,” Landon complained, shaking his head. “Let’s do this.”

  “WHAT happened to your eye?”

  We were barely through the front door before Dad asked the question.

  “Oh, well, I can tell you what didn’t happen to it.” I shot a worried look in Landon’s direction and found him shaking his head.

  “You have a black eye, too.” Uncle Teddy, Thistle’s father, tilted his head to the side as he studied her face. “Did you guys get into a fight with each other?”

  Dad made a clucking sound with his tongue and shook his head. “Haven’t you girls outgrown that yet? Come on. It’s no longer cute because you’re adults now.”

  “It’s totally hot because they’re adults, though,” Marcus offered, shrinking back when Uncle Teddy scalded him with a murderous glare. “Or … not.”

  I pursed my lips as I regarded Landon. “At least he didn’t think you did it.”

  Dad’s eyebrows winged up as he glanced between faces. “Why would I think Landon did it? He seems to be something of a hothead, but he’s never shown aggression toward you.”

  “See.” I had no idea why I felt the need to push Landon, but he was showing signs of retreating into himself, and I didn’t like it. “Not everyone thinks you did it.”

  Landon forced a smile for my benefit. “Yes, well, I stand corrected.”

  “Am I missing something?” My father was well aware of our witchy ways … and occasional freakouts … and unending hijinks … but he looked concerned as he glanced between faces. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, something is kind of going on,” I hedged. “I … um … is that chocolate cake?” My mind blurred at the edges a bit as I lifted my nose. Something smelled absolutely heavenly in the next room.

  “Yes, we were just sitting down to dinner,” Dad hedged, uncertain. “Why don’t you have dessert with us and we’ll talk about this?”

  “That sounds great.” I grabbed Landon’s hand and tugged him toward the dining room, increasing my pace as the chocolate cake called to me. I felt somehow lighter knowing we were going to eat cake. I couldn’t explain it. “What else do you guys have to eat?”

  I pulled up short when I hit the dining room and the overflowing table popped into view. Much like The Overlook, all of the Dragonfly’s guests had checked out, so only family remained. The part of the family sitting at the far end of the table was dumbfounding.

  “Clove?”

  Landon rested his hand on my hip as he moved behind me, his eyes widening when he caught sight of our missing cousin and her boyfriend. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at the Dandridge making Sam feel better about being disrespected.”

  “Oh, yeah, that will make things better,” I deadpanned.

  Landon shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “He’ll live.” He pulled out a chair so I could sit, his eyes briefly locking with my father’s as he forced a tight smile. “Thank you for inviting us for dessert. We’ve had a long day.”

  “Some of us have had a long day,” Thistle clarified, casting a dubious look in Clove’s direction. “I believe you took care of one person on our wish list before disappearing for the afternoon.”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Clove offered blankly. She looked slightly off, almost scattered. “Sam needed some extra attention. And th
en Dad called to talk, and … the next thing I knew, well, we were out here.”

  “The entire day?” Thistle was understandably dubious. “I don’t get why you didn’t tell us you were coming out here. We always come out here together so no one feels particularly burdened.”

  I rubbed my forehead and avoided eye contact with my father. I couldn’t believe she said that out loud. It was true, don’t get me wrong, but it was one of those things we tacitly agreed never to mention for fear our fathers might hear it or we might feel unduly burdened by guilt.

  “That cake smells great,” I said. “Who baked it?”

  “I did.” Uncle Warren, Clove’s father, shot me an odd look. He wasn’t in the lobby when Dad and Uncle Teddy greeted us, so our black eyes caught him off guard. “Did you two get in a fight?”

  “They always get in a fight,” Clove answered, haughty. “They threaten to make each other eat dirt and tattle to Aunt Tillie so someone gets cursed. It’s so lame-o.”

  I stilled. Even for Clove that was an immature way to verbalize her feelings. “Is something going on?”

  Landon jerked his head in my direction, his expression thoughtful as he glanced around the table.

  “Yeah, something is going on,” Thistle said, her annoyance coming out to play. “Clove is being a moron. I haven’t heard her use the term ‘lame-o’ since we were in middle school. Oh, well, there was that week she tried to carry it over into high school, but we beat her up until she agreed to stop.”

  “Yeah, that was like … um … so very stupid.” I heard the words come out of my mouth, registered the tone I uttered them with, and ran my tongue over my lips as I debated why it happened. “I’m not sure … .”

  “I missed you today, Daddy,” Thistle announced, resting her hand on her father’s shoulder and giving him a beseeching look. “Did you miss me?”

  Teddy seemed surprised by the question. “I always miss you, honey. I wish you would come around more often.”

  “We all wish you guys would come around more often,” Thistle offered. “We wish it on a daily basis.”

  “You wish?” Something about the word choice snagged in my head. Trying to focus when the world kept buzzing was impossible, though. “My head hurts.”

  “What?” Landon cupped my chin and lifted it, staring into my eyes. “Is this a headache or something from the black eye?”

  “I … it’s something else.” I rubbed my forehead. “I think something is happening.”

  “I think you’re right.” Landon looked panicked when he got to his feet and stared at Clove and Thistle. They rubbed their foreheads in the same manner, although they appeared more verbal as they chatted with their fathers. “Sam, how long have you been here?”

  Sam seemed surprised by the question as he held his hands palms up. “I guess about two hours.”

  “How did you end up here?”

  “Warren called and invited us to dinner,” Sam answered. “Clove said no initially, and then became overwhelmed with the urge to see him. I didn’t see any problem with the request, so … why?”

  “Have any of you guys been to town this week?” Landon asked, turning his eyes to Dad. He wasn’t accusatory, but his patience was clearly wearing thin.

  “We’ve all been to town this week,” Dad answered, running his hand down the back of my head. “What’s wrong? Honey, you look upset. Do you want to go upstairs and lie down?”

  “I … sure, Daddy.” Daddy? I couldn’t remember the last time I called my father “Daddy.” It had to be before they left. I cast a desperate look in Landon’s direction as the headache increased. “What’s happening?”

  “I think you’re fighting a wish,” Landon replied, kneeling in front of me. “I think your father, Teddy or Warren made a wish regarding you guys and now you’re fighting it. Doug Bateman mentioned something to me when I was taking him into custody. He said the last thing he remembered before … um, passing out … was a severe headache. That’s because he was fighting the wish.”

  “Are you saying I’m going to die?”

  “You’re never going to die on me,” Landon shot back, frustrated. He turned his eyes to my father. “One of you went to the wishing well over the past few days. You made a wish to recapture your youth … or repair your relationship with the girls … or go back in time and erase some hurt. Which one of you was it?”

  Dad balked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It was me,” Warren answered, raising his hand, sheepish. “I wished to make things better between us. I … didn’t mean to do this. I don’t understand.”

  Landon waved off the apology. “You didn’t do it. Aunt Tillie cursed the well to mess with Margaret Little, and it backfired. These wishes are going wrong. You need to go back to the wishing well and reverse whatever you wished for … and you need to do it soon.” Landon pressed his lips to my forehead as he stroked the back of my head. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.”

  “Wait a second.” Dad took a step forward, confused. “You’re saying the wishes are coming true and backfiring?”

  “The wishes seem to be turning more and more unstable as the day moves forward,” Landon replied. “Warren, go to the well and reverse the wish right now!”

  Warren nodded, horrified. “Okay. I’m sorry. I was just … .”

  “I know what you were doing,” Landon said, sympathy getting the better of him. “We all want to wish big and make little hurts go away because it’s easier. That’s not possible. Your relationship with the girls is what it is.

  “You created it and now you have to fix it,” he continued. “It’s going to take time and it’s not going to get better overnight. Most days a wish is just something your heart wants. Identifying it can be good, because you know what you want to work toward. But in this case, Aunt Tillie is a crazy loon and we’re all suffering.”

  “I’ll leave right now,” Warren said, dropping a kiss on the top of Clove’s head as she rubbed her forehead and Sam leaned close to whisper something to her.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Dad said, resting his hand on top of mine as he sat. “Tell me more about this curse. That might take your mind off of things. Is that how you got the black eye?”

  “A group of teenagers gave me the black eye,” I whined.

  Dad smirked. “Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll overcome the embarrassment.”

  Landon smirked. Dad seemed to be the only one who understood why I was so upset about getting beat up by teenagers. It had nothing to do with the wish, yet it was growth all the same.

  “Okay, how about I cut everyone some cake and we focus on that while Warren reverses his wish,” Uncle Teddy suggested. “How does that sound?”

  “I want sprinkles, too,” Thistle said.

  “Of course. I’ll get right on that.”

  Landon rubbed soothing circles on my neck as he leaned closer. “It’s going to be okay. I’m right here.”

  I mustered a watery smile. “You always are. Black eye and all.”

  “Bay, I always will be.” Landon kissed the corner of my mouth. “Do you remember when you asked me if I had a wish?”

  I nodded, my head pounding.

  “I wish I could keep you from pain,” Landon said. “That’s my one wish.”

  “Right back at you.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I’m so tired.”

  “Sweetie, as soon as Warren reverses his wish and you eat your cake I’m taking you home to bed”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? And then tomorrow we’re going to end this. Aunt Tillie had better look out, because I’m not stopping until this is behind us. Enough is enough.”

  I wish Mom and Dad gave more thought to their procreation plan before they had you, Winnie. If they had, they would’ve started with me and things would be so much easier. Of course, if you start with perfection there’s nowhere to go but down. Just ask Twila.

  – Marnie Winchester explaining how she got cheated o
ut of being the oldest Winchester sister

  Seventeen

  “How is she?”

  Dad moved to the couch where I rested, a pillow pressed over my forehead to muffle the relentless pounding. Landon sat on the floor next to me, rubbing my neck with one hand while he squeezed my fingers with the other.

  “It should be over soon,” Landon replied. “I’m starting to wonder what’s taking Warren so long. Maybe one of us should’ve gone with him.”

  “And exactly who was going to abandon their girlfriend?” Marcus snapped. He rarely lost his cool, but Thistle’s insistence on holding her head and moaning like a really annoying cartoon ghost had clearly unnerved him. “Were you going to leave Bay? I wasn’t going to leave Thistle, so … what?”

  “Chill out, drama queen,” Landon shot back. “We’re all in this together. There’s no reason to be … well … Thistle. I think the more time you spend with her the more ornery you get.”

  “Says the guy freaking out because he thinks everyone is going to believe he beat his girlfriend,” Marcus fired back.

  “Yeah, what’s up with that?” I asked, refusing to move the pillow. “You’ve been crazy about that since it happened.”

  “I happen to dislike my girlfriend having a black eye. Sue me.” I felt Landon shift to get more comfortable and a hand rested on my shin. “I don’t like anyone who hurts other people.”

  “I get that, but you’ve been especially manic about this.”

  “I don’t want you hurt. Ever.”

  I peeked out from beneath the pillow and focused on him despite the pain threatening to blur my vision. “Landon, no one who has ever met you would think you were capable of that.”

  “Chief Terry did. He was going to rip my head off when he saw your face.”

  “Chief Terry?” Dad tried to hide his distaste, but he wasn’t fast enough. “Why were you with him?”

  “We’re always with him.” It probably wasn’t wise to poke my father when he was feeling down, but I would never take Chief Terry – or his presence in our lives – for granted. “He’s been working on wish reversals, too.”