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Sweet Tea and Sass

Page 18

by Tegan Maher


  She looked confused for a few seconds, then a look of dawning crept across her face and she held up a finger. “Oh dear,” she said. “Wait here for just a minute.” She started off across the yard toward their truck, but turned back around and pointed at her husband. “And you put your clothes on! Ain’t gonna be none of that hanky-panky crap goin’ on now. Specially not after all that caterwaulin’. And you’re gonna catch your death in this weather.”

  After stomping the rest of the way to the truck, muttering and shaking her head, she pushed the seat forward and pulled out a brown paper bag with a bottle in it. The bag was twisted around the neck, and when she pulled the bottle out, it was only more than half empty.

  She looked at Mr. Spangler, then at Hunter, who was staring at me like I was a filet and he hadn’t eaten in a week. Her wrinkles shifted from a scowl to a grin, and within seconds, she was laughing so hard she could barely draw breath. Holding onto the truck to keep from falling over, she tried to speak between hoots of laughter, but all she could manage was gasping incoherent phrases while waving her finger back and forth between the two men.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It took a full two minutes for her laughter to subside enough for her to speak. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her knuckles, then patted her husband on the cheek. “Arnie, sugar, I’d apologize, but it’s what you get for dippin’ into my hidden stash.”

  She turned to me and Hunter. “I truly am sorry to you two, though.”

  Rae, ever the mixologist, was about to burst with curiosity, to the point that she was getting irritated. “So what’d you do? What’d you put in it?”

  Mrs. Spangler pinched her lips together and motioned us toward the house. “C’mon inside. It’s freezin’ out here.” When Rae started to protest, the older lady silenced her with a look, so we followed her to the house and through the screen door. Warmth and the smell of wood smoke and apple pie—whether from an actual pie, a batch of shine, or a candle was anyone’s guess—enveloped us as we crossed the threshold.

  She motioned toward the dining room table, and as we sat down, she reached into the cupboard and pulled out a mason jar full of amber liquid. “A nip to chase away the cold?”

  Rae shook her head and I held up my hand. “We’re good, I think. No offense, but ...” I motioned to the guys, who still looked a little goofy. I noticed Hunter was getting a bit of a green tinge, though, and figured if he barfed on the carpet, it was Karma.

  Mrs. Spangler snorted. “They got into my special batch. This is just the plain stuff.”

  “Still, we’ll pass,” Rae said. “Now what did you put in that special batch?”

  The older woman’s blue eyes sparkled. “My granddaughter and her new husband have been having a little bit of a problem gettin’ on the same page, so to speak. She manages the Piggly Wiggly and he works as an accountant, and it’s tax season. They’re workin’ their fingers to the bone and ain’t hardly got the energy to cook, let alone do anythin’ romantic.”

  She picked up the bottle she’d retrieved from the truck. “So I made ’em up a special batch for Valentine’s Day.” She looked at the guys, who seemed to be coming back around. They’d wandered over to load more wood into the wood burner.

  Rae pulled the bottle from the bag and held it up to the light, then twisted the lid off and sniffed it, crinkling her brow in thought. “I can smell a hint of somethin’, ma’am, but the pie scent covers it up.”

  “Hmph. Some witch you are.” She cackled when Rae and I exchanged a startled glance. “Course I know. I was good friends with your grand-mammy. I got a touch of the magic in me, too, though nothin’ that could hold a candle to you two. Or so I thought.”

  “Hey!” I said. “She’s dang good at what she does.”

  “Oh, untwist your knickers, young lady. I ain’t insultin’ her. I been at this decades longer than she has. ’Sides, in case you didn’t notice, I didn’t exactly hit the nail on the head with this one.”

  She turned back to Rae. “I used what my mammy called the trifecta of love. ’Ceptin’ she used the blend in a tea. In hindsight, I outta done it that way, too. Mandrake root, horny goat weed, and damiana. Oh, and I put just a wee pinch of magic mushrooms in it to give it that extra boost.” She smiled and held her thumb and forefinger a quarter-inch or so apart.

  “How much of each, and in how much hooch?” Rae asked.

  Mrs. Spangler rattled off the amounts and Rae did some mental math. In about five seconds, her eyes about popped out of her head. “Holy crap on a cracker!” She turned to me. “Count yourself lucky Hunter and Cody managed to keep their clothes on!”

  The older lady blushed. “I reckon I didn’t take the interaction with alcohol into consideration enough.”

  “You reckon?” Rae asked, brows raised.

  “Don’t get sassy, with me, missy! This wouldn’t even be an issue if he’da kept his paws to himself.” She scowled at her husband, who was beginning to look sheepish. Hunter was looking better, too, and had lost the green tinge.

  “I thought I had it hid,” she said, still giving him the stink eye. “I had it in the bag behind the seat in the truck to give to her when I go to the grocery store later.”

  “I’m sorry, mother,” Mr. Spangler hung his head. “I just figured you had it in there for an extra gift or somethin’.”

  “She picked up a rolled-up newspaper from the table and whacked him on the shoulder with it. “Easy to say sorry now, you old coot! You went and drugged half the town, includin’ the sheriff!” She punctuated the last three words with additional whacks. “At this rate, I ain’t never gonna have any great-grandbabies!”

  While she was cleaning his clock with the classifieds, I turned to Rae. “So do we need to come up with an antidote or will this wear off?” I motioned to Mr. Spangler and Hunter. “It looks like it’s wearing off.”

  She waved a hand. “They’ll be fine. From the looks of the bottle, divided between six grown men, including Donny—”

  Mr. Spangler interrupted her, cheeks pink. “Actually, they all only had a couple pulls each. The rest was all me.”

  “Oh, well then,” Rae said, “It should be wearin’ off any time then. With the amount of herbs combined with the way the alcohol is metabolized, they should be fine as soon the alcohol burns off. Call Shelby, Coralee, and Callie. I’ll bet Cody, Buddy, and Sam are fine as frog’s hair by now, or gettin’ there.”

  I nodded and reached for my phone, glaring at Hunter as I did. “Yeah, I’ll check on Shelby’s underage boyfriend and see if the booze wore off yet.”

  He held up his hand defensively. “I didn’t even know he drank any. I went to the john and when I came out, they were passin’ the bottle around. I took a couple swigs just to be polite, then we shot the breeze for a few minutes and went our own ways.”

  That earned Mr. Spangler another whack. “You gave my sauce to a kid? You ain’t got the sense God gave a”—two more whacks—“wooden goose!”

  The older man scowled and snatched the paper from her. “Ouch, woman! Knock it off—the kid’s eighteen, same as Donnie.”

  “Oh,” she said, plopping down next to him. “That’s a horse of a different color then. Kid’s old enough to die for his country, he’s old enough to have himself a snoot or two.”

  Yeah, maybe that idea wouldn’t worry me quite so much if I didn’t have little old ladies spiking moonshine with love potions, but I suppose that was one of the saner incidents in our lives lately.

  All things considered, it was just another day in Keyhole Lake, and I was just glad this was a case of all’s well that ends well.

  Content everything was righting itself, we left the Spanglers and headed back to town. Hunter’d grown quiet and I glanced at him, worried he was having some sort of magical hangover. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said, “Just a little embarrassed. And glad we didn’t run into too many people.”

  “Look at it this way,” Rae said. “At least you’re better off than poor
Cody. He’s gonna have a heck of a time cleanin’ that water tower, and he’s terrified of heights.”

  “City council’s been talkin’ about painting the water tower, anyway. The poor kid was high on love potion-laced moonshine, so I’ll do my best to see if they’ll bump up the schedule,” Hunter said then shook his head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothin’,” he replied. “That’s yet another phrase I never thought I’d hear myself say.”

  I smiled and reached over to lay my hand over his. “And I’m sure it won’t be the last. This is, after all, Keyhole Lake.”

  Considering nobody was dead or married, we called it a win, grabbed a pizza and a Redbox, and had the best Valentine’s day ever.

  < < < < > > > >

  Stealing Christmas

  This story is a crossover. Cori Sloane, from my Witchy Werewolf series, is taking a Christmas vacation to the Enchanted Coast, where she’ll meet up with Destiny Maganti to help Santa find his hat before the Spirit of Christmas is gone!

  CHAPTER ONE

  "It seems so weird to be packing a bathing suit for a Christmas vacation," I said, digging through my dresser for my favorite pair of jean shorts. Since it had been two months since it had been warm enough to wear them, they were buried underneath all my winter clothes. Or at least I hoped they were.

  "Yeah," Chaos, my Arctic fox familiar, said, running her paws down the black stripe on her fluffy white tail. "I'm not sure how Sean talked you into this. It's the first vacation you've taken in forever."

  Sean was the vampire who’d founded Castle's Bluff, the small Southern Georgia town I'd called home my entire life. He was also a good friend and a force to be reckoned with. When he told me he was buying me an all-inclusive trip to the Enchanted Coast, a beach resort built exclusively for paranormals, there was no talking him down.

  "That's not true," I protested. "We went to North Carolina just a few months ago."

  Chaos drew her fuzzy eyebrows together and snorted. "Going out of town for a pack meeting doesn't qualify as a vacation, Cori."

  My mother had spearheaded the creation of an interspecies national treaty, and I'd gone up as the werewolf rep for my region. Sure, I'd spent most of my time in meetings, but I'd done a little shopping, too.

  "I don't know why not," I said as I pulled open another drawer in search of the elusive shorts. "I was out of town and I brought back souvenirs."

  "You did not," she said, rolling her eyes. "You brought back a bag of treats for me that your mom made and some salt-water taffy for Sam. That doesn't count. Admit it—you're a workaholic."

  She wasn't wrong, but it wasn't like I'd had much time to breathe over the last several months. "And what would have happened if I hadn't been here when a spiteful werewolf went on a rampage, or when Sean's best friend was murdered? Or what about when the second in command of the one pack against the treaty was slashed to bits just days before the final vote?"

  "Sam would have called you and you could have been back here in a blink," she said. "You are, after all, a witch as well as a werewolf."

  It was my turn to snort. "I suppose you think I could have just clicked my heels together and been back."

  Tilting her head, she examined me with thoughtful emerald eyes. "I suppose you could have done anything you set your mind to. You know, you've only dipped a toe into the witchy waters. If you focused on your magic as much as you throw your back into everything else you do, I have a feeling you'd be surprised what you can do."

  Without thinking, I reached up to touch the blue crystal that hung around my neck. It helped me separate the two halves of myself—the witchy side and the werewolf side—so I could use my magic. Before I'd been given the amulet a few months ago, I'd never had control over my magic. Shoot, for most of my life, I hadn’t even known I had any.

  I pushed the second drawer shut in frustration, sans shorts, rocked back on my heels, and huffed a curl out of my face. "Yeah, well right now I'd be elated if I could just snap my fingers and make my shorts magically appear."

  Chaos straightened and wrapped her tail around her black-tipped snowy feet, then shrugged a shoulder. "So snap your fingers and do it."

  "Sure, just let me get right on that." I snapped a finger just to prove a point and teetered back a little, surprised when the shorts actually appeared in my hand.

  "See," she said with a Cheshire Cat smile, "now how hard was that?"

  Torn between hating that I'd proven her right and loving that I'd found my shorts, I opted to just stuff them in the suitcase without commenting either way. Still, I smiled a little in delight. That was a trick that'd come in handy.

  "You all packed and ready to go?" my roommate and best friend Kat said from the doorway.

  "Sure am," I said, zipping my suitcase. "Sure you don't wanna go with us?"

  She groaned, disappointment in her almond-shaped eyes. "I'd love to, but there's no way Rocks could do without me right now. The bar's hosting four different Christmas parties over the next week."

  Kat was the lead bartender at the local watering hole, the Rusty Hook, and was the right-hand woman to Rocks, the vampire owner. As a vampire herself, she was well over two centuries old, but didn't look a day over thirty, a perk I was sure I'd envy in a couple decades.

  "I've heard amazing things about the place, though,” she continued. “You're gonna have a blast, and I'm glad you're finally getting your tail out of here for a proper vacay." She gave me a quick hug, followed by a stern look. "And you better leave work at home. Sam's perfectly capable of holding down the fort for a week."

  I scoffed. "It's not a matter of trusting him; shoot, he's probably more capable than I am. It's a matter of feeling guilty for dumping it in his lap."

  Sam, a former Army man in his early sixties, was my second in command. The only reason I was sheriff and he wasn't was because he'd refused to run for the position. He’d claimed dealing with fussy little old ladies who complained just to hear themselves talk would cut into his fishing time.

  "And that's your number one problem," she said, following me down the stairs. "You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It's okay to share the load, you know."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said. "I'm taking this vacation now, aren't I?"

  She arched a brow as I reached the door. "Only because Sean's making you."

  That was accurate, but to be honest, I was glad to be going. The last year had been a tough one and I was excited to see my cousin Destiny, who worked at the tiki bar at the resort.

  I'd also never been in a place that was supernaturals only and was eager to see how people behaved when they didn't have to hide their magic. She said all sorts of creatures from mermaids to unicorns hung out there too, so I was feeling a little like a kid on Christmas, which happened to be three days away. Until she'd taken the job there, I'd thought many of the beings she talked about were myths.

  "True, but I admit I'm excited to go."

  "If you ride a unicorn, you better send me a pic," she said, her eyes glittering. "I've been all over the world in my two centuries, but have yet to lay eyes on one."

  I grinned. "Bet your booties if I get a chance to do it, I will!"

  A knock sounded at the door and Alex, my boyfriend and fellow witch/werewolf hybrid, poked his head in.

  "Ready?" he asked.

  "Yup," I said. "Chaos?"

  "I've been ready," she said, her tail twitching impatiently. "I can't wait to see Tempest. Do you think we'll be able to meet up with Mila and Calamity while we're there?"

  Tempest and Calamity were her sisters, and Mila was another of my cousins. We were all raised together and we were as close as sisters. Destiny and Mila lived close enough that they saw each other all the time, but I hadn't seen either of them in almost two years.

  "I don't see why not," I said. "We're gonna be there for five days. Surely we can manage something. I'd love to see them, too."

  "Well we're not going to see anybody if we don't get there," Alex sa
id.

  "That's right," Kat said, pushing me toward the door. "Get her butt out of here and don't you dare let her come back early. I've already told Sam we're here for him if anything supernatural comes up, so soak up rays and have some tropical eggnog. Do whatever you want, as long as it's some form of relaxing and having fun."

  I gave her another quick hug then followed Alex to the car. We had to drive to Atlanta to access the magical portal to the resort, but after that, we were in the clear.

  And man, was I looking forward to getting my toes in the sand.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Traveling through the portal from Atlanta to the resort was surreal. In anticipation of the south Florida weather, we'd dressed in shorts and tee shirts even though the weather in Atlanta was a balmy thirty-five degrees.

  I'd left my coat in the car in the parking garage, and as soon as we crossed over, I was glad I had. The portal opened into the main lobby of the hotel and I was gobsmacked when I took it in. Not only was the place massive, it was opulent on a level I'd never experienced. The floor was tiled in gleaming black marble shot through with gold, and the glass ceilings had to be at least thirty feet high. The bluest sky I'd ever seen shone through them, dotted with a few fluffy white clouds. The ding of slot machines and the smells of steak, baking bread, and sunscreen filled the air.

  The place was decorated to the nines for the holidays, from massive, elegant Christmas trees to tasteful white lights laced and twinkling through pine swags. That's as far as normal went, though. Palm trees were lit with white lights running up the trunk and green ones through the fronds, and a huge Santa's Village featured a cutout of Santa rocking a pair of surfer shades.

  I laughed at the discord and was happy to see Alex was just as awed as I was.

 

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