Gone Witch

by Nova Nelson

  But she was busy chatting up the Tomlinsons at a table on the other side of the dining room, so I assumed she wouldn’t mind me taking over for her momentarily.

  “Morning,” I said, sneaking a glance and, yep, they were holding hands beneath the table. “More coffee?”

  “Yes, please,” said Zoe with a wide grin. I looked at Oliver.

  He met my eye only briefly and bit back a boyish smile as he nodded.

  I could have concluded they were together and moved on with my day, but I wasn’t going to let him off that easy after he’d dragged his feet so long. So, as I poured their coffee, I asked, “Are you two meeting someone, or …” I pointed at the empty booth seat opposite them.

  Pink crept into Oliver’s cheeks and he did look at me now, but only to glare.

  Zoe said cheerily, “Nope. Just us.”

  “Taking a break from studying, I see?”

  Zoe nodded. “We’ll get right back to it at my place after breakfast.”

  “I bet you will,” I mumbled.

  I left them alone while I searched for other low mugs to top up. Unfortunately, the only ones I spotted were at the Bouquets’ table. I tried to move past before Hyacinth noticed, but too slow.

  “Nora, dear. I’ll take a little reheat.”

  I forced a smile. “You as well, James?”

  He nodded without looking up from his copy of the Eastwind Watch.

  Hyacinth rested a hand on my arm. “I just wanted to say, Nora, I think it’s fantastic that you’re giving Eva a place to work now that she’s settled. I understand it’s just temporary?”

  “Yes,” I said, trying to predict where she was going with this. But I had no clue.

  “So, you’ll be hiring on someone else soon?”

  “Yeah, whenever I can find someone. Why, you looking for a job?” Of course she wasn’t, but I knew it would annoy her to have someone consider, even for a moment, that she would wait tables, a job she undoubtedly thought was beneath her.

  She giggled exaggeratedly. “Oh, no, no, no … I just wanted to offer a little advice.”

  This ought to be rich. “And what’s that?”

  “We all love Tanner, you know we do, but he’s still”—she leaned forward and whispered—“a witch.” She opened her eyes wide, like I was supposed to understand the significance of that, but I didn’t. She went on, “He leaves and then you hire another witch—I know it’s only temporary, but even so—and I love Eva, I really do. Such a nice girl. I’m just saying, with things what they are, perhaps the Outskirts would be better off without as many witches in it.”

  My jaw dropped, and I didn’t bother shutting it all the way.

  I shook my head, assuming I had misheard something. Hyacinth was obnoxious and pretentious, but this appeared to be flat-out prejudice. “You do realize you’re speaking to a witch, right?”

  Hyacinth rolled her eyes. “Oh, Nora. You’re not really a witch. At least no one thinks of you that way. You’re not one of those kind of witches.”

  “Which kind, exactly?” I struggled to control my temper. Could I kick Hyacinth Bouquet out of Medium Rare without it becoming a major town drama? Doubtful.

  “Oh, you know,” she said casually, “the kind that hate weres and blame them for all the ills of the world, the kind that stormed Eastwind and took it by force in the war.”

  I glanced at James. Did he feel this way about witches, too? Did he believe that witches like Tanner and Eva hated him because he was a werebear?

  But he didn’t look up from the paper, and on the front page, I could just make out the headline: Coven Advising Members to Prepare for Violent Werewolf Confrontations

  “What in the broken broomsticks is that nonsense?” I said, pointing at it.

  Finally, James lowered the paper slightly, glancing up at me humorlessly. “You tell me. You’re the witch.”

  Hyacinth jumped on him, “Hush, James! Nora isn’t really a witch. She’s just a Fifth Wind.”

  “Even if I were a werewolf,” I said, “I wouldn’t be okay with what you two are saying right now. You know most of the witches in Eastwind. You go to dinner with them. Hyacinth, I’ve seen you window-shopping with Blanche Bridgewater more times than I can count.”

  “Which is why this betrayal stings so badly,” she said quickly, her lips pressing into a thin white line. She raised her chin as if to display how brave she had been in the face of such hurt, and I couldn’t take another second of it.

  There was no betrayal. It was totally fabricated. If the higher ups in the Coven were telling witches that, which was a very big if, considering the lack of proper sources cited in the Eastwind Watch, that didn’t mean any of the regular members were listening to a word of it.

  I’d hoped that by exposing the truth of what happened to Grace, I would manage to avoid this long-simmering yet stale tension from bubbling to the surface of Eastwind life, but it looked like the Eastwind Watch didn’t want that. And maybe many of the townspeople didn’t want it, either. It was like they’d been looking for an excuse to hate, and Hunter, Annabel, and Jackie had served one up hot off the griddle.

  I didn’t say another word to either of the Bouquets before walking away from them and resolving to give them the worst service of their life and to ask Eva to do the same. Hope they didn’t have anywhere to be, because that check wouldn’t be coming for a long time. And their coffee? Yeah, no more refills.

  I recognize this was not the best way to deal with the situation, but considering what I really felt like doing—yelling at them, calling them hateful bigots and sheep, and kicking them out of Medium Rare—was much more drastic, a little passive aggression felt like the most rational action I could realistically perform given the circumstance.

  My mood elevated slightly when Deputy Manchester entered through the front door. “Morning, Ms. Ashcroft,” he said a moment before slapping Tanner on the back and saying, “You’re up, Rookie.”

  Tanner nodded eagerly and wiped the last of the pie crumbs from his lips before hopping up.

  Stu slid onto the stool that Tanner had just vacated and popped a small bit of pie crust from Tanner’s plate into his mouth.

  Tanner sauntered around the counter to come say goodbye. He hooked his thumbs in his duty belt, tilted his head back, and puffed his chest out. “Well, Nora,” he said in a deep and gravelly voice that tested my ability to keep a straight face, “I’m off to go risk my life. May never see you again.” He paused just shy of me and had to bite his bottom lip to restrain the goofy smile I knew was trying to poke through.

  “You’re so brave,” I said, putting my arms around his neck. “Just know this: if you don’t survive your shift, I’ll wait a full ten days before moving on to someone else.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, and I couldn’t keep from laughing then. He wrapped his arms around me. “You’re a real piece of work, but, for some reason, I love you anyway.”

  “If you really loved me, you’d quit the jabbering and kiss me already.”

  He didn’t disappoint.

  The smooch was interrupted when Stu cleared his throat. “How about that coffee and pie, Ms. Ashcroft?”

  “It’s not going anywhere,” I said, leaning in for another kiss from Tanner.

  But he let go of me and stepped back. “It may not be, but I ought to.”

  “Right, right,” I said. I let go of him and allowed him to head for the door without trying to stop him … but I did sneak a quick smack to his backside when he turned around.

  Stu glared at me, and once Tanner was gone he said, “He’s an officer of the law, for fang’s sake. He’s in uniform. Could you just take it down a notch?”

  “Fine, fine.”

  I cleared Tanner’s plates and brought Stu his pie and coffee.

  “What’s the latest?” I asked.

  Manchester poured a touch of sugar into his coffee. “Figured your boyfriend would be keeping you in the loop.”

  “Nah,” I said, leaning forward against the co
untertop, but not before adjusting my shirt to ensure Stu didn’t get the same view I’d given Tanner earlier. “We haven’t been doing much talking since we’ve been back together.

  Stu grunted. “Okay then.” He stuffed a large bite of pie into his mouth and then dove in. “Ms. Merryweather’s circle has been indicted on conspiracy charges, but it’ll be a while longer before their trial, and I’m not sure it’ll stick unless we can prove who instructed them to do what they did. Mr. Teacher of the Year sure isn’t talking.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. Hunter probably doesn’t want to admit he would take orders from anyone else.”

  Manchester nodded. “I got the same impression from him. The stories match up, though. Looks like Grace is alive, though we’re not sure where precisely she is at the moment. No point in searching for her, since Avalon is a big place and she might have already moved on to another realm. Additionally, there’s no reason to search for her to begin with, other than she might be able to give us a little more insight into the nuts and bolts of how this thing played out with her circle.”

  “Probably not worth the time and money to go after her,” I said.

  “Not even close. We need all the time and money we can get for Eastwind, at the moment.” He exhaled and slumped. “Neighbors turning on neighbors like I’ve never seen.”

  “That bad?” I asked. Maybe Hyacinth’s and James’s abhorrent behavior wasn’t such an aberration after all.

  “Worse,” said Stu. “I always thought I got on pretty well with everyone in this town. Turns out, there are a lot who don’t trust me to uphold the rule of law because I’m a were-elk. Who knew?”

  “Wow,” I said. “The hate spills out all the way to were-elk? I figured it was just contained to werewolves and maybe werebears.”

  Deputy Manchester looked at me over the lip of his coffee mug like I might be a little dim and he was only just noticing it. “Prejudice is rarely precise. It doesn’t stay contained to one target. You may spit that ball of fire at one specific person or group, but before long, all kinds of others are dragged into the flames. It starts off with fearing and therefore hating werewolves, sure. But werebears are just as deadly when they shift, aren’t they? And they fought by the side of the werewolves back in the war, didn’t they? Why not hate them as well? After all, there’s a cheap thrill to thinking you’re innately better than someone else.”

  “And were-elks?” I asked. “Were they around in those times?”

  “Oh, sure,” he said, stabbing at his pie. “We were around, just minding our own business. We didn’t care two lynx licks who ruled, as long as they left us alone. A bit foolish of an approach, if you ask me, but nobody did because I hadn’t been born.”

  “For what it’s worth,” I said, “I don’t hate you.”

  He chuckled. “And I don’t hate you, Ms. Ashcroft. How could I when you keep gift wrapping criminals for me?”

  Hours later, after I’d finally given in and delivered the check to the Bouquets and once Bryant had come by to take over the manager’s duties, I was able to head home for the day. Tanner would be working until the late evening, but that was fine. I had lessons to get through before I could do anything fun anyway.

  Ted held open the front door for me when I made to leave. “Thanks,” I said. Then recognizing he was leaving later than usual, “Another restless night, huh?”

  The grim reaper nodded, following me out. “Indeed. I’m afraid the Winds of Change are—”

  His words were cut off by a fast-approaching sound like a screaming freight train, coming from the direction of the Deadwoods.

  The sound burst from the trees and hit us on a gust of wind that slammed the door shut behind us and almost took my feet out from under me.

  As a reflex, I grabbed onto Ted to steady myself against the blast. Big mistake. The shiver of dread that ran through me did nothing to help me fight against the howling wind blowing straight out of the forest and into Eastwind.

  I released my grip quickly and a moment later the wind had passed. I stood frozen for a moment before I asked, “Was that …?”

  “Yes,” said Ted, his chalkboard voice lacking its usual spark of enthusiasm. “It looks like the Winds of Change have left the Deadwoods.”

  End of Book 6

  Book 7 of the Eastwind Witches is coming soon. In the meantime …

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  Thank you!

  I’m so grateful that you took a chance on Nora! If you loved the book, the kindest thing you can do is take a moment to leave an Amazon review so others might also give it a chance.

  Even a simple, “Will definitely keep reading this series!” goes a long way.

  Thanks so much, and I hope you enjoy the next book!

  -Nova Nelson

  About the Author

  Nova Nelson grew up on a steady diet of Agatha Christie novels. She loves the mind candy of cozy mysteries and has been weaving paranormal tales since she first learned handwriting. Those two loves meet in her Eastwind Witches series, and it's about time, if she does say so herself.

  When she's not busy writing, she enjoys long walks with her strong-willed dogs and eating breakfast for dinner.

  * * *

  Say hello:

  nova@novanelson.com