Don’t Stop Bewitching_A Happily Everlasting Series World Novel

by Mandy M. Roth

  Missi rode faster and nearly collided with the parked truck in her hurry. She propped her bicycle against the building and ran around to the side door. There she found a tall, plump man, with a sizable belly that looked ready to pop a button on his dark blue work shirt.

  He cast her an annoyed look. “You Virginia?”

  She shook her head and withdrew her set of keys. With the number of businesses her family ran, her key ring was full. She dropped it and the man sighed as she retrieved it. “No, sir. I’m Mississippi.”

  He huffed. “Virginia? Mississippi? Some names you got there.”

  She cast an artificial smile as she found the correct key and disengaged the lock. “My parents used to travel around the United States in an RV. My siblings and me are named after the state we were either conceived or born in. Just depends.”

  He glanced around. “Folks in this town are a might odd.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” she mumbled, opening the door and stepping back so he could move his dolly full of boxes in. She followed as he unloaded the boxes. She wrung her hands, wanting him to go sooner rather than later. She’d gotten lucky with Furfur. There was no way she could explain Headless Hank if the man saw the barber jogging.

  Minutes ticked by as the man brought in six more dolly-loads full of boxes before presenting her with a paper to sign. She did and then practically shoved him towards the door. “Looks like rain. You should get a move on.”

  “It’s clear as can be,” he protested.

  She motioned to the door and then gave him a tiny push with her power. It wasn’t something she liked doing because it was technically considered dark magic. When she spoke, her voice held a level of power that would make a human want to obey. “It looks like rain. It’s best you head out of Hedgewitch Cove now.”

  He nodded and glanced up to stare at the sky, just as a tall, buff, headless male body wearing a red tracksuit jogged past. “Hmm, looks like rain. I should head out now.”

  Missi held her breath and didn’t exhale until the delivery man was in his truck and driving away. She then turned and stormed back into the restaurant. Virginia owed her big time. Once inside she tried to call her sister, but Virginia’s cell went to voicemail. “Crisis averted. Barely. I just hope he got out of town before the spell wore off. I’ll expect you to donate a kidney should I have need of one.”

  Missi glanced out of the front window and spotted Barnebas Cybulski on his daily route, a post office bag slung over one shoulder while he sorted mail and walked. The man took his position very seriously. So much so that he’d made her life something of a living hell with his attempts to acquire her back lot in order to expand the post office.

  She wondered if Jasmine had cornered him and told him of the new foe he’d face for the lot. Not that she was selling to anyone. It was hers and she wasn’t about to part with it.

  Barnebas came to a stop just outside of the gated front entrance of Hells Gate Inn. The small, quaint inn was owned by Luc Dark. Since it really did house a portal to hell in it, he’d themed the inn accordingly.

  Missi couldn’t help but smile as she watched the mailman unlatch the iron gate with great care and slowness, as if doing so might not alert the undead or demons within. He then began to tiptoe up the walk path towards the wraparound porch.

  By step four, his bag lifted of its own accord, mail flew up and out of it, scattering about in a small, self-contained tornado happening just above Barnebas’s head, and Furfur, who called the inn home, charged into the yard, still carrying a human femur in his mouth.

  Barnebas’s eyes widened and his shouts could be heard from her spot as he grabbed for the swirling mail, tried to hold down his bag, and took off running towards the gate once more.

  A relative newcomer to the town, Sigmund Bails, opened the front door of the inn and walked out without a care in the world, or a shirt on.

  Missi froze, admiring the view. More than once she, Virginia, Beatrice, and Jasmine had gone to the docks with chairs and a picnic lunch to watch as Sigmund worked on one of York’s fishing boats. The men tended to get hot and take their shirts off during the day. While the sight of York without a shirt did nothing for her, it seemed to please Jasmine and other women who also just happened to be in the area then as well. Sometimes Blackbeard joined in and that made it even better.

  Sigmund ignored the flying mail and the hellhound with a bone in its mouth. She wondered what the town he was from was like if he didn’t think much of the common occurrences of Hedgewitch Cove.

  Sigmund went to the gate and calmly put out his hand. Barnebas placed mail in it and stood there, waiting as Sigmund walked back towards the swirling mail and shook his head, looking more tired than scared.

  The mail instantly fell neatly into a pile in Sigmund’s hand. He then returned it to Barnebas and inclined his head, pushing his glasses up as he did. The man was handsome and screamed bookworm. She wasn’t sure how he managed to pull it off, but he did.

  With a slight laugh, Missi watched Barnebas lift a fist and shake it towards the attic window of the inn, shouting something about ruing the day to one of the spirits. The man would never learn. Taunting them only gave them attention—something they were desperate for.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hmm, doesn’t look the same,” said Petey as Curt drove Sunshine into Hedgewitch Cove. “For starters it didn’t have paved roads. This was a dirt road back in my day.”

  The sign announcing their arrival was made of planks of wood with carved, ornate letters and the year it was established. The craftsmanship was impressive and oddly familiar. It reminded him of Hugh’s woodworking, but that couldn’t be. Hugh had never made a sign for the town. Curt was always in and out of Hugh’s garage, which was where the man made all kinds of things. Curt would have noticed a sign for a town, especially with the sheer size of the sign. Besides, this one looked well-kept but aged, as if it had been there a very long time. Someone kept up on painting the raised portions of the letters. A well-tended flower bed was at the base of it and large oak trees dotted the backdrop.

  Curt had to admit it was a picturesque welcoming. That was good. If he did end up liking the property he was set to view, he could play off the same look of the sign. Tourists would eat it up.

  As they got closer to the sign, Curt noticed initials at the bottom right corner of it. He’d seen those initials, carved just like that before. “Petey, did you have something to do with that sign?”

  Petey squirmed in his seat, appearing uncomfortable with the question. He then nodded. “My girl wanted a sign for the town. I made her one.”

  “Your girl?” asked Curt, intrigued. “Want to tell me more about this mystery woman who stole your heart before a certain witch back in Everlasting did?”

  Petey put his hands on his knees and stared out at the sign as they drove by. It was evident the man wasn’t comfortable with the subject. Petey reached under his seat and pulled out a flask. Before Curt could lecture him about having an open container in the vehicle, the man was taking a swig. “Not much to tell,” said Petey before wiping the back of his mouth with his hand and capping the flask. “Dark magic came between us and once that was sorted, it was too late. She’d started a life with another man. For the best. I’m a free spirit. Can’t hold me down.”

  His tone and forlorn expression spoke otherwise.

  Hugh patted Petey’s arm from the backseat. “Everlasting’s win. Hedgewitch Cove’s loss.”

  “That’s right,” Curt said just as he hit a pothole. The entire van bounced.

  Everyone held their breath as Curt got it under control. They were less worried about the pothole and more worried about the reason Curt was driving and Wilber wasn’t.

  When Curt had kicked the crate by accident, he’d broken one of the artifacts within it. They’d learned as much when Wilber and Leo had finally managed to get the massive white light that had engulfed the van to subside.

  Curt glanced in the rearview mirror to fi
nd Wilber sitting next to Hugh, holding a broken artifact on his lap, giving Curt the stink-eye. The retired hunter had been doing as much since the bright light thing that apparently, could have ended the world. “Doesn’t know how to sit still and can’t drive worth a damn.”

  “I wasn’t aiming at the pothole,” offered Curt.

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “I told you I’d drive,” snapped Hugh at Wilber.

  “I’d rather take my chances with the cursed cat-shifter at the wheel,” returned Wilber.

  Petey bent and came up with another gold coin. “Warrick, this just fell out of your pocket. You’re making change again.”

  Curt groaned.

  Wilber snorted. “I’m starting to see why someone marked you with a spell of chaos and a death note.”

  Curt swallowed hard. “I already said I was sorry for kicking the crate.”

  “Well then. All is forgiven,” said Wilber. “Nearly ending the world is no big deal. A quick sorry should fix it. You and your big feet.”

  “I’m cursed,” said Curt with an innocent grin.

  “Likely excuse,” replied Wilber.

  “I once knew a guy who nearly ended the world,” said Petey, earning him groans from everyone in the van. “It’s true. He’s done it more than once. It’s sort of his thing. Real doom and gloomer, always thinking the end is near. We called him Apocalypse Arnold.”

  Curt ignored Petey and looked out at the town of Hedgewitch Cove. It seemed like the South’s version of Everlasting, with its tree-lined streets. Small, well-kept homes were on both sides of the road as they slowed to obey the speed limit. There were sidewalks, and streetlamps that looked to be gas lit were spaced evenly on each side of the two-lane street. Side streets had streetlamps with actual street signs on them as well, much like the ones he remembered seeing in the French Quarter the last time he’d been to New Orleans.

  In fact, Hedgewitch Cove seemed a lot like Everlasting and the French Quarter got together and spit out a lovechild.

  The trees on both sides of the street bathed the road in shade, helping to block some of the hot Louisiana sun. It was still relatively early in the day, but it was certainly humid. Much more so than Maine ever was. In fact, compared to Hedgewitch Cove, Maine didn’t even have humidity.

  “Petey, I’m starting to see why you run around in a knit cap all year round,” said Curt. “If you were used to this heat, Everlasting has to feel frigid to you.”

  Petey nodded. “When I first went back up north, I thought certain parts of me were gonna freeze right off. I’m used to the cold now. But it’s nice when Hugh takes me down to Florida during the coldest months.”

  “Sorry we didn’t make it down this year,” said Hugh. “I told you that you’re welcome to go down and use the house there anytime you want. You can live there all the time if you want.”

  Petey pressed a smile to his face. “Thanks.”

  Curt had a feeling Petey would brave any amount of cold if it meant he could stay near the people he thought of as family.

  Jake sat up in the far backseat. “Check out the purple house. Polly would love it.”

  Off to the right was a small home with a shaded porch. It had a high pitch roof and the wood of the home was painted a light purple. Huge dark purple shutters flanked each window, extending from the porch floor to the ceiling. They looked heavily used, yet cared for. Large potted ferns hung from baskets across the front of the porch.

  Two cats sat on the porch, watching the van as the men drove by. One cat was black with a white bowtie mark on his breast. The other was white with a black bowtie mark. Both cats didn’t take their gaze from the men.

  Leo grunted. “Those cats are giving me the willies.”

  Petey nodded. “As they should. If I’m right, they belong to a Corduas witch.” He shuddered. “Bad news. They’ve had familiars that look like that for hundreds of years. Might even be the same ones. I never did get too close to them to figure it out.”

  “We talking Babcock level of bad news?” asked Leo.

  As Everlasting had recently had issues with its own line of bad witches popping up causing trouble, all the men were familiar with dark magic.

  Petey glanced back at Wilber, and Curt wondered how much the old hunter knew about Petey’s past. Knowing Wilber, he knew everything. “They’d not eaten anyone that I know of, but they’re power hungry. And they caused a lot of chaos before I left town.”

  “I’m told that’s behind them,” said Wilber. “But one never can tell.”

  “That true of former hunters?” asked Hugh, blinking innocently at his grandfather-in-law.

  Wilber leveled a murderous gaze upon the wolf-shifter. “Let’s find out.”

  Curt glanced in the rearview mirror again. “Don’t make us force some of those cookies down you.”

  Wilber actually cracked a smile.

  “Anything looking familiar to you yet, Petey?” asked Curt as they continued to drive slowly through the town. A sign for Flanks Ironworks was off to the right, near a side street. The sign, like everything else so far, fit the vibe of the town.

  “Medusa’s Cavern?” asked Hugh, looking off to a sign on the left.

  “Hair salon,” said Jake, reminding everyone he’d spent a good deal of time in the town.

  “Really?” asked Hugh.

  Jake nodded. “If we’re in town long enough, you have to stop by the barber shop. Trust me when I say it’s an experience all unto itself.”

  Petey grinned. “That it is. Hank is a hell of a barber.”

  “Jake, where is the realtor’s office? I’m supposed to meet up with some woman who is going to show me available properties.” Curt slowed as he saw a child kicking a ball in the front lawn of one of the homes. He drove past at a snail’s pace, wanting to be safe rather than sorry should the ball get away from the child and it dart into the street.

  “It’s on Pearl Street. I’ll take you by after we get settled in at the Inn,” said Jake. “You thinking of opening a restaurant down here? They have a lot of food places as it is.”

  “The South does food right,” said Leo, patting his nonexistent gut. “They fry just about anything.”

  Hugh grinned. “My kind of people. My wife likes to try to force healthy choices on me.”

  “And Petey’s dirty bathwater,” added Wilber with a snort.

  Hugh grunted.

  Curt could see signs of businesses up ahead. As they approached, the size of the homes increased as well. Some were massive. And all of them looked as if they were ready to be photographed for a magazine cover or have a painting done of the area. Curt had always thought Everlasting went out of its way to be presentable, but Hedgewitch Cove looked to have written the book on the matter.

  A large banner was strung across the street, high in the air. It announced a month full of Founder’s Day activities and celebrations. He snorted. “Petey, did they roll out a welcome wagon for you?”

  He’d meant it as a joke since Petey was so old.

  When Petey glanced at him and sighed, Curt stiffened. “I was a founder myself. Helped to name the town and everything.”

  It was then Curt realized something big had to have gone down for Petey to have walked away from it all. He didn’t pry, but he wanted to.

  “Curt, go on up past the big circular magic shop there and then, a few blocks down, when you get to the stop sign, make a right,” said Jake from the far back.

  Sure enough, there was a huge circular building just past a rather large lot that only had what looked to be a garden on it. Curt wondered if that was the lot the realtor had told him could possibly be purchased because of a loophole in the town charter. It was a great location, close to downtown, which looked to be the heart of the town.

  The magic shop’s building had a few things left to be desired. It was big, dark red, and had crystals hanging all around it from the edge of the roof. That would have to go.

  “The Inn will be down Water Street a bit on the rig
ht. It’s right across the street from the water. Has a great view. Sig’s room has one of the best views in the place. Can’t miss it,” said Jake. “Luc is showy like that. Wait until you meet Furfur. He’s got a thing about chasing cats. Saw him running from a parrot though. Strange beast.”

  “Furfur as in the demon who commands legions in hell?” asked Curt.

  Wilber made a strange noise indicating surprise.

  Curt snorted. “Hey, I know things.”

  Jake laughed. “Yes. But trust me when I say you’d never know it was one in the same looking at him. Luc has an odd sense of humor.”

  Curt still had a hard time believing Luc Dark owned an inn in Hedgewitch Cove. He’d never mentioned anything to Curt or Hugh about it before and they had lunch with him once a month when he was in Everlasting. They were aware he hung his hat in more than one location. They just hadn’t known Hedgewitch Cove was one of them. Guess being the devil meant you had to spread yourself around.

  “Anyone let Sig know we’re coming?” asked Curt.

  Jake shook his head, as did Hugh.

  “No. And I asked Jolene not to say anything,” said Wilber. “Figured the boy could use the surprise.”

  Boy?

  Hardly.

  He was in his early thirties, just like Hugh and Curt.

  “Are you and Jolene an item?” asked Jake of Wilber.

  The question earned the centaur a slow, heavy stare from Wilber.

  Jake put his hands up. “Sorry I asked.”

  “So are you?” asked Hugh, seemingly unconcerned with how much he irritated Wilber. There had been a time, not that long ago, when Hugh had been downright terrified of the man. A lot had changed since October.

  Petey went for the radio again (making it his sixth attempt since Curt had taken over driving). This time he managed to get it to play. The entire van filled with the sounds of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” again. Apparently, it was the only song the damn van played. Curt tried to shut it off again but ended up in a slapping match with the older man. Somehow, Petey won.