by Tegan Maher
She drew herself up to her full height. “I exceed even my grandmother’s beauty and grace.”
“Hey,” I said when she stalked toward me, no doubt ready to claw my eyes out. “I’m just repeating what I heard Albert there say at the ball earlier, when he was chatting up some brunette hottie in a short skirt.”
That was, of course, one huge load of crap, but she didn’t know that, and I was counting on her insecurity to possibly turn the tides for me.
“Untie me, and—”
The wizard swept his arm again and pinned me against the wall with such force that it slammed the breath out of me. My hands were above my head, tied together with the same magical handcuffs that were binding Ari. If an angel couldn’t get out of them, I wasn’t holding out much hope that I could.
“Be silent!” he roared. I opened my mouth to say something back, but discovered to my horror that the words wouldn’t come. Probably for the best, truth be told. I didn’t seem to be doing myself any favors by running my mouth.
Her lips curled into a snarl as she reached toward me and pulled Tempest, who was also paralyzed, from around my neck. She turned her and looked her in the eyes.
“What a beautiful coat you have. You’ll make a beautiful stole. Or if your hide’s not big enough, I may have to make do with a muff.” She shrugged. “Either way.”
“What did you do to her?” Alexander yelled, drawing my attention away from Tempest and Mitzy.
“Do to who?” I asked, my brain still muddled.
“Ella. I used my charm to get her to come with me. I gave her just a little kiss in the carriage, and she passed out.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I know who she is. She’s the spitting image of her father, so don’t try to lie to me. I’ll have that kingdom, and you will tell me how to fix her.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Your dude there cursed the only chance you had of fixing it.”
“Then I’ll kill her.” His threat was empty, though, at least for now. As long as Ella was unconscious, he couldn’t fulfill the terms of the contract.
My mind raced, trying to find a solution, but I’d hit the wall so hard that I was having problems focusing. I closed my eyes and tried to summon my magic. It was there, just under the surface, but I couldn’t access it. Again, no surprise, since he’d subdued an angel. What kind of magic was the dude using, anyway? It had to be wicked dark.
Something slammed against the outside wall of the house—Colin, no doubt. He’d be beyond reason by this point, but all he was gonna get were bruises.
Helpless fury all but consumed me as I watched Mitzy stroke Tempest’s fur. The expression in Tempe’s eyes alternated between fear and rage, and just a trickle of magic returned to me.
I tried to wiggle my fingers and was surprised when they moved.
Ari groaned, and I glanced toward him. He was awake and staring at me through slitted eyes. The wound on his forehead had quit bleeding, but it looked bad. In my concern, I’d failed to notice right off the bat that he was moving his gaze from my eyes to a point just above my head. I tilted my head, trying to figure out what he was trying to tell me, then a moment of clarity pushed the fog from my brain.
Stephanie’s bracelet. But I couldn’t speak to call for her. Still desperation guided me.
With my arms pinned above me, it had slid down a bit, but I was able to get the tip of my middle finger on the edge of the warm gold. I tried to pull it up further, but it was stuck to my arm. That would have to do. I closed my eyes and poured what little magic I could summon into calling to her in my mind.
Ari nodded.
Nothing happened and I hunched my shoulders. That was the only card I’d had. We were well and truly screwed.
Then it was as if a bomb exploded. Part of the roof in the front of the house collapsed, and what I saw standing in the rubble almost brought me to tears. Buttercup, Stephanie’s massive black Pegasus, reared and snorted, tucking his wings back to protect his mistress’s legs. He charged forward at the wizard, who had his hands up, preparing to cast a spell.
Buttercup’s head lashed forward faster than a cobra, taking off a hand, and Stephanie drew her bow and fired at the prince, who’d pulled his sword. Her arrow struck true, piercing his heart. Colin crashed through the hole in the ceiling, snarling, and was on Albert, who’d made a mad dash toward the back of the house.
My bindings gave way and my voice returned, no doubt because the wizard was using all his mojo to keep himself from bleeding out. I rushed toward Colin, who had his teeth at Albert’s throat. I barked out his name as I laid my hand on his shoulder, and he whipped his head around, almost biting me before he realized who I was. His eyes were red with bloodlust, and I spoke softly, talking him down from ripping Albert’s throat out.
That would be more hassle than it was worth.
I caught a flash of white out of the corner of my eye. Mitzy was dragging a half-conscious Ella down the hallway. I dashed after her and snatched her by her hair, yanking her backward onto her back. Forget magic—she’d threatened Tempest, and that earned her a good old-fashioned beat-down.
Tempe wasn’t far behind me—she sank her teeth into Mitzy’s ankle and helped me drag her down.
My fist connected with her eye, and I followed it up with a punch to the nose with my other hand. My temper took over and red tinged the outer edges of my vision as she put her forearms over her face to protect herself. I got in a couple more before somebody grabbed me around the waist and pulled me off her.
I panted as I struggled to regain control. The smell of Colin’s cologne finally reached my senses, and I collapsed backward against him, the anger draining from me. Well, most of it, anyway.
I looked around at the destruction and was surprised to see that, with the exception of the Pegasus-sized hole in the foyer roof, there was very little damage.
Colin and Ari were tending to Ella. Confusion and shame etched her face, and I hoped that now things would get better for her. She was, after all, a princess.
Alexander was lying on his back in front of the couch, the black-fletched arrow sticking out of his still chest. Buttercup had one hoof on the wizard’s chest, holding him down. His hand was a goner, but he’d manage some sort of spell to stop the bleeding.
Stephanie was smiling at me. “Thank the goddesses you called. I was bored out of my mind. That stupid accountant has been hounding me since you left, and I was about to feed him to Buttercup for sport.”
I glanced around, surprised by how quickly everything had gone down, and smiled back at her. “Sorry it was such a short battle. I would have put together something a little more epic for you if I’d had some notice.”
I slid the bracelet off my wrist and held it out to her. “Seriously though, Steph, thank you. You saved our lives, and I’ll always owe you for that.”
Her face pinked beneath her tan and she gave me a small smile.
“It was nothing. That’s what friends are for. Keep the bracelet; you never know when you might need it again.”
I laughed and looked at the carnage around me. It was a strange friendship, but one I’d be forever grateful for.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ari forced the wizard to break the curse on Endeara, then put him to death. I thought that was fair.
Aphrodite was royally pissed about her house but blamed Mitzy, which was only right. I had no idea the goddess was almost as well known for her wrath toward those who disrespected her as she was for the love stuff. Mitzy sure did see the bad side of her grandmammy, though.
The angels had been able to keep everything mostly hush-hush, but the brothers Grimm apparently picked up on enough of the details to keep them intrigued. I was wandering through the art gallery and found them at a table in the corner, heads together while one of them—I couldn’t remember which one he was—scribbled frantically on a piece of parchment.
“Whatcha doin’ fellas?”
The one who wasn’t writing glanced up. “We’ve been working on putting some stories tog
ether, and ... inspiration struck. We decided to write it down before the idea fled.” The German accent was thick but still easy to understand.
“Uh-huh,” I said. “That story isn’t by chance about Ella, is it?”
They shifted uncomfortably. “Perhaps loosely,” the one with the quill said.
I nodded, lips pressed together. “So what’s it about?”
“A powerful magical princess who’s pursued by a prince.”
“I see,” I said. “And does this princess by chance lose a glass slipper at a ball? Did a fairy godmother make her a beautiful gown?”
Both brothers looked appalled. “Nein.”
Somebody coughed behind me, and I turned to find Ari looking at me, arms crossed and brow raised. He motioned for me to come over.
“Have you ever read their original work?” he asked.
“Well, no. But didn’t they write the original story?”
He shook his head. “They wrote a version of it. Theirs doesn’t feature anything quite so happy as chirping birds and fairy godmothers. Theirs is a bit ... darker. And like I said, the story you know didn’t take place here, though I have it on good authority that it’s not far off the mark.”
“Oh,” I said, shrugging. “My bad, then.”
He smiled. “It’s a common misconception. C’mon. I want to show you some awesome pieces of art we’ve salvaged over the years.”
Colin and Tempest joined us, and we spent the rest of the day looking at long-lost art and touring the city’s vineyards. I even talked him out of a case of the champagne they’d served at the feast. I figured a few bottles would make great Christmas gifts.
Oh, who was I kidding? I wasn’t giving any of that stuff away. That would go into my private stash.
I’d been fretting over something all day, and finally just took my standard approach and asked him.
“Did I mess the timeline up? Is everything going to be okay when we go home?” And I didn’t mean just my personal life. I was worried I’d screwed up so badly that we were still owned by England and Spain or something.
“Everything’s fine. This time.” He gave me a stern look. “Turns out, Alexander was going to die of something he’d contracted from one of his ... uh, girlfriends in just a few years. Endeara would have taken the kingdom and put Ella on the throne, anyway. We just pushed the process ahead by a few years.”
“That makes me feel better. And I learned my lesson, too.”
“Good, because you’re welcome to come back next year if you can keep yourself under control.”
“No worries there,” I said. I made a lot of mistakes, but I tried to never make the same one twice. It didn’t always work, but I had a decent ratio.
We ended the day back at the castle, where Endeara and the girls were getting ready to leave. Ella was dressed in a gown that rivaled that of her stepsisters, and though they looked a little salty, Endeara and Ella were glowing.
“So what now?” I asked.
Endeara gave me a smug smile. “Now we go back and storm Ella’s castle. Get her on the throne, where she belongs.”
Ella stepped forward and gave me a hug. “Thank you so much ... for everything!”
“Are you excited to become a queen?” I asked.
She blushed. “I’m terrified, but Endeara’s going to be there to help guide me until I learn how to run a kingdom on my own.”
I couldn’t help but notice the glares her stepsisters were casting in her direction, but I figured they’d get over it or Ella would put them in their place. It took serious nerve to show up at that ball—in a gown she’d swiped from Endeara’s closet, no less—-and I had no doubt she was made of stiffer stuff than I’d originally figured.
“What about you?” Endeara asked. “What’s next for you?”
“I’m heading back to paradise,” I said. “I have a bag of candy corn with my name on it.”
She tilted her head and smiled. “I don’t know what this candy corn is, but I thought we were in paradise.”
I smiled as I took Colin’s hand and helped Tempest to my shoulder. She was still a little stiff from all the excitement. “That’s because you’ve never been to the Enchanted Coast.”
Ari laid a hand on our shoulders, and before I could blink, we were standing outside the tiki hut. I kicked off my sandals, dug my toes into the white sand, and turned my face up to the blue sky as the cry of seagulls reached my ears.
And we lived happily ever after, at least until the next body turned up.
Candy Apples and Curses
It's time for the first-ever Haunted Lodge Halloween party, but when Toni and Dee find a box containing a shrunken head and other magical items, their luck goes south. Tables break and boxes spill. The weather turns bad without notice.
Can they break a long-dead voodoo priestess's curse before the party is ruined ... or worse?
CHAPTER ONE
"Are you sure about this?" I bit my lip and glanced at my roommate Dee, who was pulling Halloween decorations out of a dusty trunk with reckless abandon.
"I've never been so sure of anything in my life," she replied, tossing aside a strand of battered pumpkin lights that had seen better days. "A Halloween party is exactly what this town needs. Besides, it'll be great publicity for the lodge and the restaurant."
"But we're not even sure we're going to have a restaurant yet," I replied, biting the head off my ghost-shaped cookie. "These are amazing, by the way!" I said around the mouthful.
Her eyes lit with delight and sass. "We may not have a restaurant, but we do have a B&B. And of course the cookies are awesome. I made them."
I could hardly believe that the smiling, confident woman sitting cross-legged in the floor with me was the same subdued, self-conscious person I'd met just a few months before. Back then, she'd been an overworked, underpaid waitress at her tyrant of an aunt's cafe. Now she owned that cafe, had a booming cake business, and was helping me get my—excuse me, our—B&B off the ground.
Technically, it was mine. Realistically, though, she'd invested just as much blood, sweat, and tears into it as I had, and it wouldn't even be a B&B if it weren't for her.
I rolled my eyes. "That's one of the reasons I love you—your humility is overwhelming."
"Yeah, now I know you're lying. You love me because I make you cookies."
That was a big part of it, too. "And cheesecake." Dee made the best cheesecake I'd ever had, and I'd made her put a cap on how often she made it. I could only run off so many calories in a week.
"Of course the cheesecake. How could I forget?" She glanced at me through her floofy golden bangs. "But if it weren't for you, I'd live off frozen dinners and cold cereal."
That was dead accurate. I didn't get it—the girl was a magician when it came to anything sweet, but her savory cooking was terrible at best and lethal at worst. I couldn't talk, though. I was the same when it came to baking. We made a good team.
I leaned forward to peer into the trunk. She'd emptied it except for the bottom layer, so I reached over and pulled another smaller trunk toward me. There was a bunch of half-burned, different-colored candles under it, and a purple velvet bag held a deck of tarot cards.
"Hey," I said. "Check these out." I handed them to Dee, who thumbed through a few of them.
"Cool," she enthused. "These look hand-painted. They're probably worth something." Her attention was now fully on my box. "What else is in there?"
"Nothin', really. Some odds and ends and a few candles." I pilfered through a bit more and found an old knife and a couple carved wooden bowls. I was down to the bottom, where something lay wrapped in butcher paper. It was heavier than I expected it to be, and I was a little surprised to find an ornate wooden box with weird, gothic-looking symbols carved into it. I gasped when I opened it, then almost dropped it before I could recover.
Inside was what appeared to be a shrunken head, complete with a tuft of black hair that fell over the leathery forehead. The eyes and mouth were sewn shut, and I could h
ave sworn a little puff of air hit me in the face. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Bear, our Leonberger who was lying beside me, lifted his shaggy black head and gave a soft whine.
"What the heck is that?" Dee asked, crinkling her nose and craning her neck for a better look. I shoved it toward her, willing to let her look to her heart's content as long as I wasn't the one holding it.
"Maisey!" I yelled.
Three seconds later, our third—and less alive—roommate popped in.
"And what, exactly, is so important that you thought it was okay to bellow at me like that? I'm not a dog, you know." She popped her chubby fists on her ample waist and glared at me, the translucent periwinkle dahlia on her sun hat bobbing in emphasis.
I pointed to the shrunken head. "That."
She zoomed over to Dee so she could get a better look at the head, then furrowed her brow. "How the heck should I know what kinda new-age freaky-diki crap you all are draggin' in?"
Ever since I'd taken up yoga and meditation—which had lasted all of a week—she'd been on a kick where everything from scented candles to my essential oils fell under that description. While I admit to believing in holistic therapies and alternative treatments, shrunken heads didn't even make the top million on my list of Zen-therapy aids.
"Oh, no," I said, wagging a finger. "This one is all you." I pointed to the box. "That's yours, is it not?"
She took a closer look at the other stuff I'd pulled out of the box, then at the decorations Dee'd just gone through. She shook her head. "Nope. That one is"—she pointed toward to the trunk Dee had just emptied, then pivoted to the one in front of me—"but I've never seen that one before in my life."
"Well if it's not yours, then whose is it?" Dee asked. "I mean, you're pretty much the only person who's lived here, living or dead, besides us since your daughter moved away, right?"