Magic & Mystery: Starry Hollow Witches, Book 2

by Chase, Annabel

  Magic & Mystery

  Starry Hollow Witches, Book 2

  Annabel Chase

  Red Palm Press LLC

  Magic & Mystery

  Starry Hollow Witches, Book 2

  By Annabel Chase

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  Copyright © 2017 Red Palm Press LLC

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Alchemy

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Thank You

  Chapter 1

  “Sweet baby Elvis, stop contemplating the state of the universe and pick a spot,” I said, my patience wearing thin.

  Prescott Peabody III, my nine-year-old Yorkie, looked up at me with a blank expression.

  “This is the fifth patch of grass you’ve rejected,” I complained. “Why are they not good enough for your poop?”

  It was like Waiting for Godot sometimes when I took PP3 out for a walk. His Royal Canine had definite ideas about which blades of grass were worthy of his feces. I’d blame our newfound affluence, except he was like this back in New Jersey, too.

  As I impatiently awaited the not-so-grand finale of our walk, I surveyed the estate surrounding us. Behind us stood Rose Cottage, the charming house where my parents had lived and where I’d been born. Thornhold, the ancestral home where my aunt and cousin lived, stood in the distance. I still couldn’t believe I lived in a place as incredible as this. And I still couldn’t believe that a paranormal town like Starry Hollow existed. Until my arrival here, my travel had been limited to the New Jersey Turnpike and the shore, and my exposure to witches had been limited to multiple viewings of The Wizard of Oz. It had come as quite a shock to learn that I came from a long, distinguished line of witches and wizards.

  My cousin Aster approached on foot, dressed in a stark white pantsuit and statement jewelry. She was the youngest of the Rose-Muldoon siblings, and the most like her mother—the formidable Hyacinth Rose-Muldoon.

  “Oh, good. At least you’re alone,” she said.

  I glanced down at the indecisive dog at my feet. “Not entirely.”

  She ignored PP3. As a witch, she was partial to cats. “I made the mistake of dropping in to see Florian in the main house.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “He had a…friend over. He really needs to place a protective spell on the door when he’s entertaining guests.”

  “Or you could try knocking,” I suggested.

  She blew a dismissive raspberry. “Thornhold is not his bachelor playground, no matter how many toys and games he tries to cram into his man cave.” She glanced around the grounds. “Where’s Marley?”

  “My ambitious ten year old is in the cottage, trying to decipher the runes I’ve been drawing.”

  Aster flashed those perfect pearly whites. “Ah, runes. How are your lessons coming along?”

  “I have runecraft again this week with Hazel, plus some lady called Marigold is coming by tomorrow.”

  “Marigold?” Aster echoed. “I suppose it’s for your psychic skills assessment. I heard Mother mention it to someone on the phone.”

  “Psychic skills?” I asked. “What’s that?”

  “I’ll leave it to Marigold to explain,” Aster said. “So listen, Mother and I agree that it would be a good idea if you got involved with some of the nonprofits in town. Since I'm involved in several of them, I thought I’d invite you along to a meeting or two.”

  "What kind of nonprofits?”

  "There are a variety to choose from," she said. “I’m the chairwoman of the VWFF…”

  “The Volkswagen Fahrvergnugen?”

  Aster shot me a quizzical look. “The Vampires Without Fangs Foundation. The vampires involved are lovely, so that might be a good place to start.”

  I scrunched my nose. "You’re the chairwoman of a vampire foundation? Why?"

  "My father founded the organization fifty years ago and a Rose has been chairing it ever since."

  "The vampires don't find that patronizing? Can't they take care of their own fangless vampires?”

  Aster patted my hand. “You need to learn to be more civic-minded, Ember. Vampires missing their fangs is not simply a vampire problem. It's a problem for everyone."

  “Why?" It seemed to me that vampires without fangs were less of a problem than vampires with fangs, at least from the point of view of other paranormals.

  "There are other organizations, if that one doesn’t interest you," Aster said. "There’s…”

  "Let me guess," I interjected. “Fairies Without Wings? Elves Without Pointy Ears?"

  Her mouth formed a thin line. "I'm sure you think it's very funny, but you try being a fairy without wings. It’s demoralizing."

  I put on my serious face. "Okay, I'm listening. Tell me the other options." PP3 hopped around me, tangling his leash around my legs.

  Aster began to tick off the list. "The Home for Wayward Paranormals, the Senior Citizens of Starry Hollow, the Starry Hollow Tourism Board.”

  "That last one," I said. What better way to learn about the town than to volunteer to promote it?

  She clapped her hands together. “Oh, good. That’s one of my favorites, too." She pulled out her phone and checked her calendar. "The next meeting is Thursday at seven. I'll pick you up promptly at six forty-five.”

  “I’ll need to make arrangements with Mrs. Babcock to watch Marley," I said.

  “Of course. I’m glad you’re doing this with me. It's nice to have another Rose to share the responsibility."

  I knew what she meant. It was clear that her siblings, Linnea and Florian, didn’t carry their weight. From Linnea's point of view, I could understand it. She was a single mom trying to run a busy inn on her own. Florian, on the other hand, had no excuse. He wanted to live the wealthy bachelor lifestyle without taking on any responsibility and his mother enabled him.

  “I’ll see you at dinner in an hour then,” Aster said. “Sterling is bringing the boys over after their piano lesson.”

  “Dinner?” I repeated.

  Aster inclined her head. “Of course. It’s Sunday. We always get together for dinner on Sunday. Has no one told you?”

  “No one told me.”

  Aster blew out a breath. “Honestly, I don’t know how this family functions sometimes. Sunday dinner is a Rose-Muldoon tradition. You and Marley are expected. After all—”

  “We’re Roses?”

  She smiled. “Why, yes, you are.”

  I looked down at the bottom of my pants and shoes, splattered with mud. “I guess I’d better go and change, then.”

  Sunday dinner was, unsurprisingly, a grand affair. Unlike our first dinner at Thornhol
d, however, all the children were included this time—Linnea’s teenaged children, Bryn and Hudson, and Aster’s twin boys, four-year-old Ackley and Aspen. Sterling sat between them, presumably to keep them from causing mischief in front of their no-nonsense grandmother.

  "It's so nice to see you all together," Aunt Hyacinth said. "Maybe one of these days we’ll be able to add three more chairs to the table."

  "Mother," Linnea said in a warning tone.

  I wasn't sure what she meant.

  "Oh, Linnea," Aunt Hyacinth said lightly. "You know I only have your best interest at heart. I want to see all my offspring happily coupled. Never mind your first marital mistake.”

  Ah. Now I understood. She wanted ‘appropriate’ partners for Florian and Linnea.

  "Who's the third chair for?" Florian asked.

  Aunt Hyacinth smiled at me. "Why, Ember’s partner, of course. Her father would have wanted to see her settle down with a nice wizard in Starry Hollow."

  That was doubtful, since my father had never intended for me to live in Starry Hollow. The whole reason I was here now was a fluke. My daughter and I had been living a perfectly normal life in Maple Shade, New Jersey, when an unfortunate encounter with a mobster triggered my magic and set off a beacon that alerted the Rose-Muldoon family to my existence. Thankfully for me, they arrived when they did, because Marley and I were nearly burnt to a crisp by a mobster madman. James Litano, otherwise known as Jimmy the Lighter, was a known pyromaniac, and he’d been determined to exact revenge on me for repossessing his car. So now Marley and I lived in Starry Hollow, the paranormal town where I'd been born and where my mother had died.

  "I think the table seems crowded enough," thirteen-year-old Hudson said. "I barely have any elbow room as it is." He jostled his elbow for good measure, deliberately knocking it into his sister’s arm.

  "Hey," Bryn snapped. “Keep your bony body to yourself, Skeletor.”

  "That's enough, you two," Linnea said in a low voice.

  I had no doubt that manners were critical at Sunday dinners. Everyone wanted to put on a good show for the grand matriarch, Hyacinth Rose-Muldoon.

  "There is always more room at the table here," Aunt Hyacinth said. "This table is imbued with magic, Hudson. It will expand without the need for an insert."

  Well, that was handy.

  Aunt Hyacinth rang her little silver bell and platters began to float into the room like a weightless parade. My empty glass suddenly filled with an amber liquid that I didn't recognize.

  "What's this?" I asked, lifting my glass to inspect it.

  “Honeysuckle bizzbeer,” Florian said. "It happens to be one of my favorites."

  "Mother chooses each of our favorite drinks in rotation," Aster explained. "This week is Florian’s turn."

  "Why does everyone have to have the same drink?" I asked. "If you can fill your glass with whatever magical liquid you like, what's the point?"

  Aunt Hyacinth settled her gaze on me. "It's called manners, dear. And we shall be working on yours, have no doubt."

  My first inclination was to argue, but I opted to remain silent. Aunt Hyacinth had been nothing short of generous since our arrival and I wasn’t foolish enough to deliberately annoy her.

  I tasted the amber liquid and was surprised to find it smooth and refreshing. "Does it do anything to me?"

  Hudson laughed. "Sure. If you drink enough of them, they'll make you drunk."

  "Hudson," Linnea said sharply.

  "What do you think it would do?" Florian asked with a smirk. "Turn you into a toad or something?" He took a sip from his own glass and, that quickly, he was gone.

  "Florian,” Aunt Hyacinth said in a no-nonsense tone. "You know better than to do magic at the table. You’re worse than a child.”

  “He is a child,” Aster grumbled.

  "Mom," Marley said excitedly. "He’s still here."

  He was still where? Had he slid under the table? Before I had a chance to peer below deck, a green frog hopped from Florian's chair onto his plate. Someone screamed. I think it was me.

  "Florian Rose-Muldoon," Aunt Hyacinth snapped, "this is unacceptable. You turn yourself back this instant. You're setting a bad example for the children."

  "Nothing new there," Aster muttered.

  The frog hopped on the table in an agitated circle.

  "This isn't funny, Florian," Linnea said. “Ember was just asking a question. There’s no need to make a point."

  The frog's long, powerful tongue shot from its mouth, knocking over Florian's glass. The liquid spilled onto the table and the frog hopped beside it, lapping up tiny drops.

  "Well, at least we know it's Florian," Sterling said. Nobody laughed.

  Aunt Hyacinth held out her hand. “Restituere.”

  Everyone stared at the frog expectantly. Nothing happened.

  Aunt Hyacinth frowned. "You try, Aster. Transformation spells were always your strong suit."

  Aster focused her attention on the frog and raised her hand, palm out. “Reditus.” The frog blinked back at her.

  Aster and her mother exchanged worried looks.

  "Why can't you change him back?" Marley asked.

  "Someone else must have performed the transformation spell," Aster explained.

  "Florian didn't do this to himself," Linnea said. "Someone else has turned him into a frog."

  "Cool," Aspen said, staring at his uncle with round eyes. He glanced up at his mother. "Can we keep it?"

  "Of course we can keep it," Aster said. "That frog is your uncle. We’re not simply going to set him loose in the woods and forget about him."

  Aunt Hyacinth looked ready to explode. I don't know how I knew that, since her face remained passive. It must have been the rigid way she held her body as she gazed at her amphibian son. I suddenly felt sorry for the responsible party. That person didn't know what they were in for. Then again, if someone was turning Florian into a frog, they had to know exactly whom they were messing with.

  "Someone be so kind as to call the sheriff while I prepare accommodations for Florian,” Aunt Hyacinth said. She rang her silver bell, and Simon, her butler, appeared in the doorway with a glass enclosure. Their magical link never ceased to amaze me.

  Florian the Frog seemed to know that he was about to be imprisoned. He began to hop across the table, in and out of plates and bowls, scattering food and splashing liquids, much to the children's delight. His frog feet smoothed the stick of butter and kept going.

  "Go, uncle Florian! Go!" Ackley cried.

  "Someone catch him," Aster said.

  “Rigescunt indutae,” Linnea said, and snapped her fingers. The frog came to a halt and landed on its back with a small thud.

  "Be careful lifting him," Aunt Hyacinth said. "If he’s too brittle, you could break off his legs."

  "Well, I've always been partial to frog legs myself," Sterling said.

  Everyone stared at him in abject horror, causing Aster’s husband to sink lower in his seat.

  "It was only meant as a joke," he said. "Obviously, I have no interest in eating Florian."

  “That should go without saying,” Aunt Hyacinth said coolly.

  Simon carefully lifted Florian the Frog and placed him in the glass enclosure. "I'll be sure to add the necessary accouterments," he said. “That will keep Master Florian comfortable during his stay."

  "Thank you, Simon," Aunt Hyacinth said. "I know I can count on you."

  Aster placed her phone on the table. “The sheriff is on his way. He said he has some news for us that might help."

  "That would be a first," Aunt Hyacinth said.

  Linnea shot her a disapproving look. "Mother, need I remind you that Sheriff Nash is the children's uncle?"

  "No, you needn't remind me, Linnea,” Aunt Hyacinth replied coolly. “I wake up to that unfortunate fact every day."

  "I really like Uncle Granger," Bryn said.

  “Me, too,” Hudson said. “He’s funny.”

  "All right then," Aunt Hyacinth said.
"The sheriff will arrive shortly. We should at least finish our meal. No need for dinner to spoil because of an unexpected interruption."

  Everyone ate in silence. I think we were all too afraid to say the wrong thing and set off my aunt. Anyone who referred to the frogification of her son as an ‘unexpected interruption’ was not someone to piss off.

  Sheriff Nash arrived by the middle of dessert. “Ooh, burstberry sponge cake. That's one of my favorites."

  "Would you care for a slice, Sheriff?" Aunt Hyacinth asked.

  "Why would she offer him any?" Marley whispered. "She obviously doesn't want him to say yes."

  I placed a hand on her leg to silence her. "I'll explain later."

  I waited to see whether Sheriff Nash was smart enough to decline.

  "I appreciate your hospitality, but not while I'm on duty," Sheriff Nash said. Everyone at the table seemed to breathe an inward sigh of relief.

  "So, what's the news you have to share?" Aster asked.

  "Yours is the second case of an unexpected transformation spell," he said. "The other one’s also a frog."

  Linnea's brow creased. "Who is it?"

  "Thom Rutledge," the sheriff replied.

  "The incubus?" Sterling asked. "I play cards with him sometimes at the Phoenix Club.”

  The sheriff nodded. "He was discovered this morning."

  "During breakfast?" Ackley asked. "Did it happen at meal time, like Uncle Florian?"

  The sheriff's brow lifted. "Well, it did happen during his meal time." He ceased to elaborate. I wasn't even sure what an incubus was.

  "Children, why don't you finish your dessert in the sunroom?" Aunt Hyacinth proposed.

  "Really?" Aspen queried. "You never let us eat in the sunroom."

  Sterling shushed him. "Then don't mistake a kelpie for a horse. Just go."