Abracastabra (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery # 4) (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series)

Home > Other > Abracastabra (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery # 4) (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series) > Page 5
Abracastabra (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery # 4) (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series) Page 5

by Rachel Rivers


  “The fact that our beloved Sheriff Jeremy could be a warlock,” she says, turning to them.

  “He what?”

  “Why have you not followed up on that yet?” Cousin Viv barks at me.

  “Because he was injured soon after,” I explain. “And he hasn’t exactly been in any frame of mind to answer my questions since.”

  My aunts are still busy gasping.

  “Besides, it’s not possible anyway...because he would have to be—”

  “Part of another coven?” Cousin Viv finishes my sentence.

  “Yes. Which would mean?”

  “There’s more than one coven in Hex Falls.”

  “Right. And since we’ve never seen—”

  “Just because we haven’t seen a sign, doesn’t mean they haven’t been here,” Cousin Viv says. “Let’s just hope they’re friendly.”

  My two aunts clutch hands.

  “Now, don’t go getting all wired up.” I stare at them and cross my arms. “It’s only a possibility. Nothing’s been established for sure yet.”

  “Still, in lieu of what we saw happen, it’s likely to be true. Have you at least checked for the telltale signs of warlockhood?” Cousin Viv asks.

  “I have. And there are none.”

  “No, sideways toe? No double fingernail on the right pinkie?”

  “No. Neither.” Well, at least that I’ve seen.

  “You’re sure about this?”

  “As sure as I can be. I’ve checked several times now.” I drum my fingers on my forearm. Most recently, just an hour ago.

  “What about a hint of Brimstone on his breath? Have you checked for that?”

  “What?”

  “Have you ever detected Brimstone on his breath?”

  I hadn’t known of that one. The thought stops me dead. Brimstone, I muse. I had detected a slight stench of it that day at The Bottom of the Cauldron as sparks flew when he kissed me. But I’d chalked it up to the ingredients in that revolting drink he always orders. I had no idea it was a sign of Warlockhood.

  “Well, by the look on your face, I see I have my answer.”

  “Oh, sweet stars!” Aunt Kat gasps, slapping a hand to her mouth. “Could it be?” She turns to her sister and then Cousin Viv, a look of sheer terror crossing her face.

  “What? Could it be what?”

  “You don’t think?” Aunt Kat shudders.

  “Think what?” I shout.

  “If he is, then that means, since he’s not one of us, and we’ve not sensed another coven, he could be—” Aunt Kat shakes.

  “No?” I say, catching her meaning, my eyes darting between them. “It can’t be. He’s not. You’re not insinuating—”

  “He could be a Druen?” Cousin Viv fills in the gap.

  We all stare at her, shock rolling over me like frigid tidal wave.

  “No. No, no, no, that can’t be.” I back up. “He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. It can’t be true.” I shake my head, reaching out for the aid of a chair back to steady me.

  “Why not?” Cousin Viv asks. “You said yourself you saw the charred signs of magic on his fingertips the day of the explosion. And your uncle and I did see the marks left on the floorboards.” Suddenly, I feel unstable on my feet and chilled all over. “Put that together with the super strength we saw him wield at the ex-Supreme Leader...”

  “Stop! Just stop.” I shake. “He would never...” I shake my head. “He could never—

  He’s such a kind and gentle man. He would never harm anyone. He’s not like that.”

  “Unless it’s all been a ruse.”

  “Stop that. Stop that at once.” I glare at Cousin Viv, my chest heaving. “How can you say that?”

  “She’s right, you know, darling.” Aunt Kat drifts toward me. “It could all have been a trick.”

  “No.” I shiver. “I refuse to believe that. Jeremy has never been anything but good to me. He cares for me.”

  “Precisely, my dear.” Cousin Viv rolls her hands together. “He could be trying to get to you by positioning himself as a love interest.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “No. He would never do such a thing.”

  “Oh, you know him that well, do you?” Cousin Viv’s voice dips into the questioning range.

  “I know that what he’s expressed for me is genuine and true.”

  “You can’t be sure of that, dear,” Aunt Kat says, gently patting the back of my hand. “If he is what we think he is, none of it could have been real.”

  “A Druen in disguise is a dangerous thing, dear,” Aunt Kit adds, her voice quaking. “They are a sly and slippery beast.”

  My gaze darts between the three of them. “But, what about all the things he’s done for me—for us? All we’ve been through together...” I twist my head from one to the next. “You’ve seen it yourself, his kindness.”

  “Which could all be a very crafty act, I’m afraid,” Aunt Kat suggests gently.

  “Kat’s right.” Aunt Kit begins pacing the room. “And if he is what we think he is, he must be dealt with immediately.”

  “She’s right,” Cousin Viv blurts. “We need to notify the council at once!” She throws up an arm to conjure a news vessel, and I snatch her arm from the air.

  “No!” I say. “Not yet, at least.” My chest heaves under the pressure. “Please, give me the chance to sort things out first. We could be wrong. And then think what would happen. He could simply just be a warlock who’s decided to break from his coven, and we’d be sentencing him to death.”

  “That’s very unlikely, dear,” Cousin Viv says.

  “Still, it’s a possibility.” I stare her down.

  “It’s more likely he’s a rogue Druen who’s been sent on a covert mission to get to you.” Aunt Kat’s voice cracks. “The most powerful witch alive.”

  “If that’s true, then so be it. I’ll put him to death myself,” I say to her, scowling. “But if it were true, then why wait so long to do whatever it is he’s come to do?”

  They all consider that a moment.

  “Give me a couple of days to work on this”—I swallow—“to find out for sure. We owe him that much, don’t we?” I stretch a pleading look between them. “Besides, if we alarm the coven now, and we’re wrong, it’ll be a second strike against me. I’ll have made another grave mistake, for which they may not forgive. I can’t be wrong a second time or they’ll never follow me.”

  Cousin Viv’s eyes flash. She knows I speak truth. “Very well, dear,” she says under her a breath. “Take a couple of days, but do be careful.” She thrusts up a warning finger. “Your aunts are right. The Druens are a ruthless and very cunning bunch who wouldn’t think twice of ending you and annihilating your entire coven.”

  “I know.” I nod, then turn and head for the door.

  “Oh, and Violet?” Cousin Viv calls me back.

  “Yes.” I turn.

  “We all know you can take care of yourself just fine these days—possessed of powers far stronger than all of ours put together now—but we are still here if you need us. Always.”

  “Of course, Cousin Viv.” I run back, kissing her on the cheek.

  “Do be careful, darling.” She strokes my face as I pull away. “Do not find yourself alone with an angry, outed Druen.” Her voice shakes.

  “I won’t. I promise.” I nod and step toward the door, sliding out onto the porch into the sunshine. It is then I realize I’ve forgotten to discuss something with them. The possibility that Mrs. Dumfries herself could also be the witch.

  Perhaps they’re from the same coven.

  Good gods, don’t let there be two Druens.

  Chapter 7

  “Dah, dah-dah, dut, dah, dahhhh!” An in-coming video alarm goes off on my phone, and I yank it from my pocket.

  “Hey, hey, hey, hey...” The smiling face of Cherry, my assistant from the fair planning committee, shimmers into view as I look down at the screen.

  Oh drabbits. The planning meeting, I completely forgot.
<
br />   “Where are you?” she asks in her cockney-like British voice. “Everybody’s like here and waiting for you,” she sings, jerking her head off to one side, indicating the crowd of townspeople behind her. A flurry of voices assaults me, none of them agreeing.

  “Oh, yeah...about that.” I cringe. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to make it.”

  “What?” Her eyes turn the size of saucers. Worried saucers.

  “Yeah, something’s suddenly come up, and I—”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She cuts me off. “Mrs. Dumfries is here and has everyone very upset, saying you’ve agreed not to go ahead with our plans to modernize the fair.” This comes out more of a question than a statement.

  “Oh, yeah...about that—”

  “Don’t think you’re leaving me to take her on all by myself.” Cherry scowls.

  Yeah, I was totally not thinking that.

  “She’s claims you’ve changed your mind and are keeping the jams, preserves, and pie-eating contests. Along with a lot of other ridiculous stuff.” She scowls back at Mrs. Dumfries over her shoulder, wreaking havoc in the back.

  “Yeah, actually she’s right. I did,” I sheepishly admit. “Along with the pig squealing and hog calling one.”

  “You what?” Cherry makes a horrified face. “You can’t be serious. Those were the very things the committee was instructed to get rid of. Why don’t you just throw in a hot dog swallowing contest while you’re at it.”

  “Oh-kay.” I shrug.

  “What? What’s wrong with you? I was only jokin’!” Cherry shrieks. “Do you have a fever?”

  “Sadly, no, I don’t.”

  “The what are you doing cavin’ into the pressures of Mrs. Dumfries? I thought this was the year we were gonna be makin’ changes.”

  “It’s a long story—”

  “Well then, you’d better come here and tell it. ‘Cause there’s a slew of miffed people standin’ round here thinkin’ she’s crazy.”

  Oh my... I sigh.

  “You’re not totally plannin’ to throw the baby out with the bathwater, are you? Like, there’ll still be room for some of the modern stuff, right?”

  “Oh...yeah...”

  “Like the Star Wars-themed fashion show, the tent city of vendors, and the Great Not-So-British Bake Off, you’re not ditchin’ those, in favor of the old stuff?”

  “Oh, of course not.”

  “And the grand entrance garden, created by local florists, we’re still going to have that?”

  “Most certainly,” I say timidly. If there’s enough room. I bite a nail.

  I’ve no idea how big the fairgrounds are, but they better be huge.

  My goodwitchness, this is going to take a lot more organization than I first thought.

  “Look, Cherry.” I interrupt her as she continues listing things. “Would you be a doll and tell the rest of them I’m afraid I just can’t make the meeting today, and we’ll resume again tomorrow? I have a very pressing matter that I’m afraid I must attend to.”

  “I would gladly. Anything to help out,” she says smartly. “Anything to get Mrs. Dumfries and the rest of ‘em to stop all this screamin’”—she looks back over her shoulder—”but I’m afraid there’s papers to be signed and things to be approved, and well...with you changing plans, and the fair being only—”

  “Six days away, yes, I know.” I sigh. “I’ll be there.” My shoulders slump. “But I’ll need another five to ten minutes, okay? Can you hold the fort till then?”

  “I will not only hold it, I will pacify it,” Cherry says. “See you in ten.” She waves, signing off, committee members still squalling loudly behind her.

  Committee meeting or not, I must find out about Jeremy first.

  The entire well-being of Hex Falls, not to mention the witching world, depends on it.

  Wait. I bite my lip, then smile through it. Jeremy may be a warlock, but he can’t be a Druen. Because why would they have attacked him then?

  Assuming it was the Druens who were behind the fireball and not the ex-Supreme Leader. But why would they want one of their own dead?

  I take a quick look around me, then close my eyes, and pop myself into Jeremy’s hospital room. He’s lying in bed, lost in a deep and peaceful sleep, snoring softly like a purring contented kitten. How could he possibly be a Druen? I admire him from afar.

  Just look at him, the very picture of innocence.

  I creep toward him.

  “Aah, azzizz zzure,” he mutters, grinning in his sleep, as I tiptoe across to his bed in the dimly lit room. I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little freaked out to approach him after my conversation with Cousin Viv and the Aunts. I find myself taking more caution than I normally would bending over him. I position myself at his side and lean over him, gingerly scooping his right hand up into my own. Quickly, I closely examine his fingertips, searching for the telltale double pinky nail.

  “Oh, uh, no, only one funnel cake for me,” he mumbles, startling me, then opens one eye. “Oh, hey, Violet. What are you doing here?” He squints curiously, looking up at me.

  “Oh, I uh...I came to see...” He sits half up, trying to retrieve his hand, and I yank it back, and look again. “Oh, great gobsmack, it is true!”

  “What’s true?”

  “You’re a warlock!” I shout and drop his hand to the bed.

  “A what?”

  “You’ve been lying to me,” I blurt, overcome with shock.

  “Have you like, hit your head or something?” he asks, squinting even harder.

  “Don’t play stupid with me. The proof is right here”—I snatch up his hand—“in the double fingernail on your right pinkie.” I look down. “Wait? What?” I scowl, bringing it closer. “It was there a moment ago.” I look and blink. “What have you done with it?”

  “Done with what?” He looks up at me, stunned.

  “With the sign of the warlock. Where did it go?” I drop his hand to bed and crazily look under it.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” He sits fully up.

  I grab his chin and gaze into his eyes—empty and azure blue. Were they like that a moment ago when I looked at his nails? Drabbits! Why didn’t I look into his eyes first?

  “Um, do you mind,” he mumbles, “this kind of hurts?”

  I release my grip on his chin. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head.

  “You’re lying. Come on, tell me.” I grab him by the shirt and shake him.

  “Violet!” he shouts.

  “Jeremy?” a nurse calls from out from the hallway.

  “Oh, no.” I swing around and back. “You were about to tell me something, out on the lawn earlier when we were having cake. Before that male nurse whisked you away for a nap. What was it?” I clutch his shirt.

  “Honestly, Violet,” Jeremy squints, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There are no male nurses here.”

  “What?” I fall back on my heels.

  “Jeremy? You all right in there?” The squelch of orthopedic shoes draws closer. “Is something wrong? Do you need assistance?” A hand grips the doorknob.

  I lurch back toward him. “Quick, close your eyes and when you open them again, you won’t remember a thing.”

  “Huh?”

  “Just do it.” I hover a hand over his face, then give it a small wave, pinch shut my eyes, and I’m away. It’s the first magic I’ve conducted since my transformation to Supreme Leader, erasing this visit from his memory, then whisking myself from the room, just as the door pushes open.

  “Jeremy, everything okay?”

  Chapter 8

  I land outside in the courtyard, under the tree where Jeremy and I enjoyed cake earlier. “Cousin Viv?” I whisper-shout at the tree, specifically its leaves. “Cousin Viv, are you there?” I stop to check over my shoulders and make sure no one is listening. There is no one here but me, thank goodness. “Cousin Viv, if you’re there, please pick up.”
>
  My telepathic summoning skills still have much to be desired. Though they have become much sharper and useful of late, they are still not always as dependable as I’d like.

  Oh, please be there. “Cousin Viv, pick up!”

  At last a hologram of her face appears among the leaves on the tree, where slowly, her likeness waffles into view.

  “Good gracious, dear, what is it?” She’s been in the bath. She clutches the towel up around her neck.

  “I’ll get right to the point since obviously I’m interrupting.” I turn my eyes away, then back. “Do warlocks have the capability to inhabit other’s bodies?” She blinks. “You know, like transport themselves from person to person,” I ask.

  “Well, of course they do. We all do. Though it’s a practice very much frowned upon in the witching world.” She shakes a finger. “Why?”

  “Oh, goodwitchness.” I draw in a shaky breath and start to pace. “Sotherby...”

  “Huh?”

  “Could a witch, say, also inhabit the dead too?” I ask.

  “If in ghostly form, yes. Why? What’s going on, dear?” Cousin Viv scowls.

  My mind flashes back to earlier today, the scene at Murder Manor when Sotherby touched my hand, and it caused a spark while taking tea in the library. And then back to two other times before, when he touched my hand and sparks flew. Or at least, I swore they did. Could it have been Jeremy, or whoever has been bewitching him, bewitching Sotherby too?

  “Oh, no.” I exhale, bringing my hands to my face.

  “What is it, dear? Tell me.”

  I stare into the leaves. “They know everything,” I say.

  “Who knows everything? What do they know?” Cousin Viv scowls.

  “My innermost secrets. Everything I’ve ever said to either one of them. They know.” I stare past her head at nothing in particular. “They know because I’ve told them,” I fret, looking back. “It’s Jeremy, or whoever the hex he really is,” I say, breath rushing out of me. “He’s been doing it the whole time.”

  “Doing what, dear?” Cousin Viv asks.

  “Leaping skin to skin.”

 

‹ Prev