Better Than Hex (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 5)

by Annabel Chase

  Astrid’s expression turned somber. “Yeah. There’s no good answer, is there?”

  I sighed. “I’m afraid not. Kinda like our murder investigation, huh?”

  Astrid slung an arm over my shoulder. “You may not get your man, Emma, but, together, we’ll get ours.”

  To say I was nervous about poker night was an understatement. In a short time, I would have enough strong personalities in the house to trigger a third world war. I studied myself in the bathroom mirror, searching for evidence of brain-eating amoebas. That was the only explanation for my agreement to host the Grey sisters and the Gorgon sisters at the same event.

  “I wouldn’t worry about how you look,” Gareth said, gliding into the bathroom. “They’ll destroy you whether you’re pretty or not.”

  “If I’m going to be turned to stone, I may as well look nice for the rest of eternity,” I said, running a brush through my hair.

  “No worries,” Gareth said. “We’d set you up in the garden. Get a few attractive gnomes to keep you company.”

  “Hardy har. Very funny.” I whirled around, brush in hand. “This is your fault, you know. You begged me to invite them.”

  “I didn’t think you’d actually agree to it,” he said. “I expected you to put up more of a fight.”

  I tossed the brush onto the counter. “Now you tell me.”

  “If it’s any consolation, your hair looks extra shiny this evening.”

  “It’s not, but thanks.” I left the bathroom and Gareth followed me closely. If ghosts had the ability to breathe, I’d have felt his warm vampire breath on my neck. “Did you tell Magpie to behave himself? I don’t need him tripping anyone and causing a riot.”

  “He’ll be hiding, I imagine,” Gareth replied. “You know he doesn’t love crowds.”

  Neither did I and yet I’d invited one to my house. A possible unruly one. What was wrong with me?

  “It’s good to break out of your comfort zone,” Gareth said, as though reading my mind.

  I laughed. “Because you’re famous for your willingness to deviate from the norm.”

  He folded his arms. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  I moved to my closet and slid open the door a fraction. “I think I’ll leave it like that tonight.”

  “But…but…Why would you do a thing like that?” Gareth sputtered.

  I flashed him an innocent look. “Whatever do you mean? Like what?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I get the point. Keep it up and you’ll get mine.” He clicked his fangs together.

  “I doubt it,” I said. “Lyra would need to be doing a helluva job with your training.”

  “It will be nice to be seen tonight, if only by a few guests,” Gareth mused.

  “Tell me the truth,” I said. “Is that the real reason you wanted me to invite them? So you’d feel part of the festivities?” On that basis, I was almost willing to forgive him.

  “I know they’re scary and misunderstood,” Gareth said, his head lowered. “But they’re better than nothing.”

  “I’m not nothing,” I replied.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean it that way,” he said quickly. “Come on, Emma. You know better than that.”

  I sighed. “I know. I hope everyone has fun.” And I hoped nobody died. The usual poker night aspirations.

  The wind chimes sounded and Gareth floated through the front wall to sneak a peek.

  “Witches,” he said, and I immediately relaxed. I’d asked my friends to come early so that I wasn’t alone with Greys and Gorgons.

  “Do you want to see if you can open the front door?” I asked.

  “Could do,” he said. “But they still won’t be able to see me.”

  “They’ll know it’s you, though.” I adjusted my top. “Go on. I’m almost ready.”

  “Diva,” he muttered before disappearing.

  I slipped on my shoes and glanced at Sedgwick on his perch. “I thought you had the night off.”

  And miss this disaster-in-the-making? he asked, his owl eyes rounder than normal. Not a chance.

  “Try not to get in the way,” I said. “If you end up involved in a scuffle, I can’t promise to save you.”

  Same goes for me.

  I hurried to the foyer to see Begonia, Sophie, and Millie trying desperately to figure out where Gareth was standing so they could talk to him. Every time one of them turned in the right direction, he’d shift to the side so she was talking to a plant or the wall.

  “Gareth, stop that,” I admonished him.

  He gave me a guilty look before disappearing.

  “There you are, Emma,” Begonia said, smiling brightly. “Your key looks wonderful on the wall.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to where the key was proudly mounted and displayed between the large windows. “And it only took two hours to hang with Gareth’s overzealous supervision.”

  “Well, his input paid off,” Begonia replied. “So are you ready for the most exciting poker night in the history of Spellbound?”

  “Please don’t say that,” I begged. “I don’t want excitement. Fun only.” I pointed to the living room. “Visors and chips are on the table.”

  “Thank the stars,” Sophie said. “I’m starving.”

  “Not those kind of chips,” I said. “Poker chips, but there are snacks in the kitchen. Maybe you can help me carry everything into the living room.”

  She gave me an embarrassed smile and walked with me to the kitchen. “I was too nervous to eat dinner,” she admitted.

  “You’re not the only one,” I said. I was fairly certain the mice in the woods behind the house could hear my stomach growling.

  The witches helped me move the snacks and drinks into the living room.

  “Why don’t we use a spell to do this?” Millie suggested, setting a bottle of lemon fizz on the sideboard.

  “Because I need to get rid of this nervous energy,” I said. “Keeping busy is the best way to do it.”

  “Is the nervous energy because of Will’s trial tomorrow?” Sophie asked.

  “And poker night and Ed Doyle’s murder…You name it and I’m nervous about it.”

  “Shouldn’t you be preparing for the trial?” Millie queried.

  “I spent hours looking over the file and prepping Will,” I said. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much more I can do to help him. We have to roll the dice and hope for the best.”

  The wind chimes sounded and before I had a chance to reach the foyer, Jemima appeared in the doorway. “I heard it was poker night.”

  I was desperate to roll my eyes, but she was looking straight at me. I was grateful when Gareth materialized behind her and rolled his eyes for me. Jemima was a witch who worked at Mix-n-Match. Her face was as sour as her attitude.

  “It’s a very special poker night,” Begonia said, moving closer to Jemima. “Have you heard about the guests of honor?”

  “No,” Jemima said. She focused on Begonia, clearly intrigued. “Who is it? Someone handsome like Demetrius Hunt?”

  “No, poker night is for the ladies, remember?” Begonia said.

  “Right,” Jemima replied. Her brow wrinkled. “It isn’t Lady Weatherby, is it? I’d rather not have all the joy sucked out of the room.”

  Kind of the way we feel when you appear, I said to myself.

  “You know what?” Millie said, munching on a handful of sparklecorn. “Let’s leave it a surprise. It’ll be more fun that way.”

  “Good idea,” Jemima said. “You don’t want it to be boring like your remedial classes. I mean, those lessons are designed for idiots.”

  I balled my fists at my side and resisted the urge to throttle her.

  The wind chimes sounded again and I brushed past Jemima at breakneck speed to answer the door. Anything to put a safe distance between us.

  The hiss of snakes alerted me to the arrival of the Gorgon sisters. Althea stood front and center, carrying a purple orchid.

  “Something new for you to kill,” she said,
and handed over the pretty flower.

  “Seems fairly irresponsible to give her a flower you know she’ll murder,” Miranda, the eldest Gorgon, said.

  I admired the orchid. “I tend to kill the easy ones, but the difficult ones thrive,” I said.

  “Sounds about right,” Gareth muttered under his breath.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Tell Althea she looks lovely tonight,” he said clearly.

  “Gareth says you look a little top heavy.” I pointed to her white turban.

  “Monster,” he hissed.

  “Tell Gareth if he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him myself,” Althea said, zeroing in on his location.

  Gareth backed away slowly. “It’s like she can see into my soul.”

  “You don’t have a soul,” I reminded him.

  “Details, details.”

  “Come in, ladies. Some eager poker players have already arrived.” I held out the flower. “Gareth, do you think you can carry this safely into the kitchen?”

  He studied the small pot. “I think I might be able to do that.” He inclined his head. “Do you trust me?”

  I let go of the pot. To everyone else, it seemed to float in mid-air.

  “Amazing,” Althea breathed. “This is from working with the Grey sister?”

  “Yes. Lyra,” I said, and watched Gareth and the orchid disappear into the kitchen. “As a matter of fact…” I didn’t have time to finish my sentence before the door swung open and the three Grey sisters stood shoulder to shoulder in the entryway.

  “Gorgon cousins,” Effie, the taller one, said.

  “Grey cousins,” Amanda exclaimed. Her snakes began poking their heads outside of her turban for a good look at their long lost relatives.

  Oh no.

  The six women stared at each other for one long, uncomfortable moment. Then I was quickly shoved aside as they greeted one another in a dizzying fit of arms and lips.

  “Your eyes,” Amanda said in amazement. “There are two of them.”

  “The better to see you with, my dear,” Lyra said.

  “And your teeth are incredible,” Miranda said.

  “The better to eat you with, my dear,” Lyra said, continuing the joke.

  Althea glanced at Effie and Petra, the shorter sister, still sharing an eye between them and sporting a single tooth. “When will it be your turn for a makeover?”

  “When we earn it,” Effie said, nodding toward me. “We wouldn’t dare try to outwit our new patron.” I heard the words that were unspoken—our new patron, the powerful sorceress full of darkness. Thankfully, no one else filled in the blanks.

  I clapped my hands together. “Now that you’ve had a chance to get reacquainted, why don’t you join the other guests in the living room?”

  “Who’s still missing?” Gareth asked, returning to the foyer.

  “Astrid and Britta,” I said. “Lucy has a date.”

  “No harpies?” he queried.

  “Not tonight,” I said. “I thought it was best to keep it simple.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, that’s how I’d describe tonight. Simple.”

  “Again, I’d like to remind you that this was your idea.”

  “I have a feeling you’ll be reminding me of this for the rest of your natural life.”

  “And maybe even after that,” I added. Before I could retreat to the living room, Astrid and Britta arrived. They’d clearly been arguing as evidenced by their sullen expressions.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “It is now,” Britta said. “Point me to the booze.”

  “A Valkyrie after my own heart,” a voice said. Petra Grey emerged from the living room, clutching a bottle in her bony fingers.

  Britta stared at the single-eyed, nearly toothless woman. “Smoke and bone. I thought you were just a legend.”

  “And I thought you were just a legend, my lovely,” the Grey sister shot back. “I’m sure we have stories to share.” She beckoned the Valkyrie forward.

  “Go on, Britta,” Astrid prodded. “Don’t insult her.”

  “What’s your poison?” Britta asked, joining her at the hip.

  “Hemlock,” Petra replied.

  “No, I mean your drink of choice.”

  The Grey sister cackled and I watched them head into the kitchen, engrossed in conversation.

  “This is weird,” I said.

  Astrid cast a sidelong glance at me. “This is weird? It seems to me your whole life became weird inside of a day.”

  “Point taken. Let’s go play some poker,” I said. “And try not to die.”

  Chapter 15

  When Will and I stepped into the Great Hall the next morning, I was surprised to see an unfamiliar woman seated in Rochester's place. So far the wizard was the only prosecutor I'd dealt with and it was my understanding that he was handling Will's case.

  I shot a quizzical look at the woman. Her pointy ears and lack of wings told me she was an elf. “Where’s Rochester?”

  “He came down with a bad bout of food poisoning, I'm afraid,” she said. “I'm Sara Santora and I’ll be handling this case.”

  “Have you had time to review the file?” I asked. “Maybe we should ask to postpone.”

  Sara gave me a reassuring smile. “I've been working alongside Rochester for years. He didn't think I would have any trouble taking this on today.”

  I trusted Rochester's judgment. If anything, Sara's lack of preparation would be good for my client.

  I took my seat beside Will. His olive complexion was beginning to turn a deeper shade of green.

  “Are you nervous?” I asked.

  His eyes grew round. “Wouldn't you be?”

  Definitely. In fact, I would have already thrown up twice in the ladies room before I made it to my seat. Maybe I should have given Will a dose of anti-anxiety potion before we arrived.

  The bailiff appeared and announced the arrival of the judge. Today we were fortunate enough to have Judge Lee Melville. He was a taller dwarf, with a thick, silver helmet of hair and his nose reminded me of a triangle with rounded edges.

  “Good morning, counselors,” he greeted us. “Good morning Mr. Heath. This seems like a cut and dry matter, so hopefully we can finish in less than an hour.”

  Will shrank in his chair and I jabbed him with my elbow. He immediately straightened.

  “Ms. Santora, would you like to start?” the judge said.

  Sara stood. “The prosecution would like to call Mr. William Heath to the stand,” Sara said.

  The judge scratched his head. “What? No introduction today?”

  “As you said, Your Honor. It's a simple case. I think a brief conversation with the defendant will suffice.”

  The judge nodded and motioned for Will to take the stand. As similar as many things were in Spellbound, the differences were in the details. It seemed odd that a system with such severe penalties would be so flexible at the trial stage. It was one of the key reasons I wanted to see reform in the sentencing guidelines. I didn't trust the procedure to reach the right outcome.

  I nudged Will. “Go ahead. You’ll be fine.”

  He hesitated before moving his feet and crossing the room to the witness stand.

  Sara smiled, trying to put him at ease, and I instantly warmed to her. “Can you please state your name for the court?”

  “William Heath.” He began to fidget in his seat. I gave a quick shake of my head to remind him to sit still.

  “Is it true, Mr. Heath, that you were arrested in Mix-n-Match in possession of nightshade?”

  “Yes, ma'am. It is true.”

  “And is it further true that no one placed the nightshade in your pocket without your knowledge?” Sara continued.

  “No one put the nightshade in my pocket. I took it and out it in my pocket. Nobody else was involved.”

  Sara smiled at the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

  Sara returned to her seat and the judge nodded to me. “Miss
Hart. Any questions for your client?”

  I crossed the room to stand in front of Will. “Did you intend to use the nightshade for any malevolent purpose?”

  Will shook his head, “I told you before. My intentions were good.”

  The judge's brow furrowed. “Excuse me, young man. What do you mean that your intentions were good? You had a deadly plant in your possession.”

  Before Will could respond, the double doors burst open.

  “Stop the trial,” a deep voice rumbled. The statement was followed by a loud hacking cough.

  “Grandpa,” Will exclaimed. “What are you doing here? You should be in bed.”

  The judge banged the gavel. “Quiet, please.” He turned his attention to Atlas. “What is the meaning of this interruption, sir?”

  I realized that Atlas wasn't walking in unaided. Anthony Shoostack held him under one arm and the redhead from Anthony's house gripped the other arm. They moved him to the nearest seat and I noticed that Atlas clutched a white handkerchief. I could see the bloodstains from where I sat.

  “My grandson isn't telling you the truth,” Atlas said between coughs.

  The judge peered at Will. “Is this true, Mr. Heath?”

  “No, I'm telling you the truth,” Will insisted.

  The judge looked back at Atlas. “Are you saying that this boy did, in fact, have a malevolent purpose for possession of the nightshade?”

  “I'm saying nothing of the kind,” Atlas said hotly. “He got it for me. I asked him to do it.” He began to cough again and covered his mouth with the handkerchief. “In actual fact, I begged him. He didn't want to get it. Tried to talk me out of it a dozen times before I threatened to hit him with my cane.”

  “And where did you obtain this nightshade, Mr. Heath?” the judge asked.

  “He didn't steal it from nobody,” Atlas said. “I know a place where it grows naturally. I passed it many times in my travels in lion form, back when I was more mobile. I told him exactly where he could find it.”

  Judge Melville eyed Will. “Still true?”

  Will glanced at me hesitantly.

  “You need to be honest, Will,” I said.

  “Yeah, it's true. I didn't steal it from anyone. I followed his instructions and found it on my own.”