Better Than Hex (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 5)

by Annabel Chase

  “Why were you carrying it around town in your pocket?” the judge asked. “Why not just bring it straight to your grandfather?”

  “Because he needed something else to mix with it,” Atlas interjected. “I wanted to make sure the job got done right.”

  The judge's face hardened. “And what exactly did you intend to do with this nightshade mixture?”

  Atlas wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. “I wanted him to kill me. I wanted that cocktail to be toxic enough so that I never had to cough again. So that I was no longer a burden to my family. I couldn’t get any of it myself, not in my current condition.”

  The room fell silent. So Atlas had asked his grandson to make a death potion. He had asked twenty-year-old Will to euthanize him. My stomach clenched at the thought. Poor Will.

  The judge addressed Will again. “Did you know what your grandfather intended?”

  “Yes, sir. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was insistent. He's been sick for a long time, you see.”

  “What about other means of easing this suffering?” Judge Melville asked. “Have you been to see a healer? There are lots of things…”

  “No more healers,” Atlas said adamantly, kicking off another coughing fit.

  “My grandfather has been visited by many healers over the last few years,” Will said. “Nothing has worked. He's in a lot of pain. The coughing hurts his whole body and wears him out.”

  “It would be a mercy,” Atlas said. “My grandson is a good boy. A brave boy who looks after his family.”

  “What kept you from coming forward until now?” the judge asked Atlas.

  “I didn't even know he’d been arrested until recently,” Atlas said. “Will made sure that the news was kept from me. I only found out about the trial an hour ago.”

  “I knew he would get himself in trouble to get me out of trouble,” Will explained. “He's too sick to go to prison. He’d suffer more there.”

  “Well, I don't know that he would have gone to prison,” the judge said. “After all, you’re still the one who obtained the nightshade, not your grandfather.”

  Atlas tried to stand, but Anthony kept still. “I'm the one who told him to get it. Don't you understand? He only got it because I told him to, because he respects his elders. That’s a good boy there.”

  “And he's quite lucky that he was found before he actually gave you a death potion,” the judge said. “Otherwise we might be sitting here discussing a murder charge and you wouldn't be here to defend him.”

  Will looked like he was ready to burst into tears.

  “Your Honor,” I said. “I think we've established that Will is a good citizen of Spellbound and that he is respectful and committed and kind. Maybe we can think about assigning him a year of community service.”

  The judge rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Mr. Shoostack, you are the alpha of the werelion pride. What do you have to say for your cub?”

  Anthony rose to his feet. “I would simply echo what Atlas said. Will Heath is the best example of a werelion. He embodies all of the best qualities we have to offer. His loyalty is what has him sitting here now. The practical outcome is that if Will goes to prison, he will leave behind his grandfather, his mother, and two minor siblings. The family would suffer greatly.”

  The judge looked at Sara. “Any strong feelings on the matter, counselor?”

  “I don't think we should lose sight of the fact that euthanasia is against the law in Spellbound,” Sara said. “If Will had gone ahead and fixed the death potion and served it to his grandfather, he would absolutely be facing a murder charge.”

  My blood pressure began to rise. I was hoping Sara would show compassion for young Will.

  “That being said,” she continued, “we are fortunate enough to have the testimony of his grandfather. Some of you know my grandfather, Fagan. If he asked me to do the same, I don't know that I would have refused him.” She surveyed the room. “It's a difficult and terrible situation and my heart goes out to Will's family.”

  “I would have taken the death potion myself,” Atlas said. “I wouldn't have had Will feed it to me.”

  “But he still would've been the one to gather the ingredients and make the potion,” the judge said. “The fact that he didn't bring it to your lips is neither here nor there.”

  Atlas slumped in his chair. The full realization of his actions sinking in.

  “Have you ever considered moving to the Spellbound Care Home?” I asked. The staff cared for many sick and elderly residents. They’d probably do a better job than what Will was managing to do. Plus it would ease the burden on Will.

  “We take care of our own,” Anthony said.

  “Not this time, it seems,” the judge said, not unkindly. “I'm sure you've done your best, but sometimes we need to know when to let go.”

  “I know some people there,” I said. “I can arrange a meeting if you’re interested.” Although they couldn't cure him., I knew that they would be at least able to make him more comfortable.

  Atlas gave a gruff nod.

  The judge focused on Will. “Why don't you return to your seat and I’ll render the verdict?”

  As usual, Will obeyed his elders and joined me at the table.

  “Under these unusual circumstances,” Judge Melville began, “I sentence you, William Heath, to one year of community service, the service itself to be determined by your pride leader.” He banged the gavel. “Case dismissed.”

  Will blinked. “That’s it?”

  I smiled. “That’s it.”

  He stared into space, still uncertain. “I can go?”

  “Yes, you can go.” He ran to his grandfather and the two werelions embraced. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes.

  “It was the right outcome,” Sara said. “Judge Melville is sensible, thank the gods.”

  “That’s been my experience so far,” I said.

  “Rochester has been talking about your efforts to amend the sentencing guidelines,” Sara said. “Any chance I can get on that committee?”

  “Once it gets approved,” I said. “You’d be more than welcome.”

  “Great.” She extended a hand. “You’re a persistent witch. We need more residents like that in town. Change only happens if people are willing to put in the work.”

  My heart tightened in my chest as her words hit home. I had to put in the work if I expected anything to change.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” I said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s somewhere I need to be.”

  Chapter 16

  I strode up the steps to the oversized doors of the Mayor's Mansion. Lucy was surprised to see me when I appeared in the foyer.

  “Hey, Emma. Do you have an appointment with the mayor?” She tapped her dimpled cheek. “I'm pretty sure I would remember if you were on the calendar.”

  “It's an informal visit,” I said. “Is she available? I only need a few minutes.”

  Lucy shot me a quizzical look. “She is. She's reviewing the minutes from the last council meeting. She always signs off on them once she's reviewed them. I'll let her know you're here.”

  “Thanks.” I appreciated that she was the kind of friend who didn't press me for more information than I was willing to give.

  I only had to wait two minutes before Lucy fluttered back to the foyer. “She said she's glad you're here.”

  Well, that was a start.

  “How was your date the other night?” I asked, as I followed Lucy down the long corridor to the mayor's office.

  Lucy grimaced. “Don’t ask. Back to the drawing board.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “You’re telling me. I’m going to catch warts from all the frogs I’ve been kissing. Where’s my prince already?”

  I laughed. “Hang in there, Lucy. You’ll meet him sooner or later.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Lucy began, and then faltered. “I guess it isn’t easy for you to say. Sorry.”

  I waved her off. “It’s okay.
Really.”

  Mayor Knightsbridge sat behind her large desk, quill in hand. She set it down when I entered, prepared to give me her full attention.

  “Thank you, Lucy,” she said. “You may leave us now.”

  Lucy's confused expression told me that this was an unusual request. Nevertheless, she complied without protest. Once she closed the door behind her, Mayor Knightsbridge gestured for me to sit.

  “This might be a long conversation,” the mayor said. “Do yourself a favor and get comfortable.”

  “I guess you know why I'm here,” I said.

  “The wedding is a month away,” she said. “If you didn't come to see me this week, I was planning to come and see you.”

  “Daniel told me that you’re the reason it's a month away. That you managed to delay it.” I leaned forward. “So what's your plan?”

  She shrugged. “My plan was to stall the big event until I came up with a better plan. What's yours?”

  I laughed. “You’re the politician. Surely you can come up with a good strategy to stop a wedding. Is there anything bureaucratic we can do?” Spellbound was rife with red tape. “Any rules on the books that prevents an angel from marrying a fairy?” I cringed the moment the words left my mouth. The idea was downright racist.

  “No, no,” she said. “Interspecies relationships are common here and quite acceptable.”

  Heat rose to the back of my neck. I was ashamed of myself for even thinking it. I was more desperate than I realized.

  “Daniel says that Elsa really wants children. What if Daniel couldn't have children? Is it possible to make them believe that?”

  Mayor Knightsbridge suppressed a smile. “Why Miss Emma Hart. You are more devious and diabolical than I imagined. I have to admit that I'm a little in awe of you right now.”

  I wasn't in awe of me. In fact, I felt desperate for a shower. This wasn't the way to win Daniel. I was stooping to Elsa's level. If I was willing to compromise my fundamental values to win him, then maybe I didn't deserve him after all.

  “Forget that idea,” I said. “I think there’s a more straightforward approach.”

  The mayor looked intrigued. “And what's that?”

  I had to tell her my theory about the Obsession spell. Even though it implicated Elsa, her mother was the one person who would want to see it undone.

  “I think Daniel may be under some kind of Obsession spell,” I said. “If we can figure out exactly what it is, then maybe we can break it.”

  The mayor stared at me briefly before exploding in a fit of laughter. “Emma, you sweet thing. It doesn't take much for a man to fall head over heels for my daughter. She is extraordinarily beautiful.”

  “Yes, but this is Daniel,” I said.

  “Yes, and he fell in love with her once before. Why not twice?”

  Because I know him better than anyone, I wanted to tell her. He wasn’t in love with her then and he isn’t in love with her now.

  “Then I guess desperate times call for desperate measures,” I said.

  Mayor Knightsbridge lifted a pale eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  “I’m seeing him tonight at the care home. I think it’s time I tell him how I feel.”

  Mayor Knightsbridge pressed her pink lips together. “That’s your plan? Throw yourself at his feet?”

  I shrugged. “At this point, honesty is the only weapon I’ve got.”

  “This is similar to a game called Pictionary that we play in the human world,” I said. The residents of the Spellbound Care Home stared at me, clueless as to what Pictionary was. “The team that's up nominates one person to draw and the other members of the team have to guess what the phrase or title is from the images.”

  “Where do we get the phrase or title?” Estella asked.

  “They’re written on slips of paper here,” I said, patting my pocket. “I’ll hand one out at the beginning of each round.”

  “What’s the phrase or title from?” Minerva asked. She was an elf who lived down the hall from Estella.

  “A book or movie,” I said. “Or a commonly used phrase. Like spell’s bells.”

  “There are seven of us,” Silas said. “Don't we need even numbers if we’re in two teams?”

  “My team will take the Halo Hottie,” Agnes said, winking suggestively at Daniel.

  “I'm afraid I'm spoken for,” Daniel said.

  Agnes's expression darkened. “Yes, I heard that dreadful bit of news. I thought perhaps it was just idle gossip.”

  My stomach twisted into knots. I was dreading my conversation with Daniel later this evening.

  “Now Agnes,” Daniel said. “You know I'm very fond of you, but our relationship was never going to progress beyond friendship.”

  I wondered if he was being deliberately obtuse or if he really thought that Agnes was referring to herself as the disappointed party. She was a wily old witch, and I had no doubt that she recognized my feelings for Daniel based solely on our visits here.

  “Let's get started,” I said. I didn't want the conversation to take an unexpected turn toward me. It was bad enough being on the receiving end of sympathetic looks from my friends. I didn't need to encounter it at the care home as well. In some ways, this place had become a safe haven. It was cut off enough from town to provide me with a little space and also a little quiet time with Daniel. This seemed to be the one place where we were more like ourselves. Even this evening when we were setting up in the cafeteria, there were a few brief and glorious moments where I forgot all about Elsa and the wedding.

  “Well, I'm not playing if the teams are uneven,” Silas moaned, folding his arms across his chest. “It's inherently unfair.”

  Daniel gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine. I'll be on a team.”

  “Not you,” Silas said. “I want Emma on our team. You can be the moderator.”

  I bit back a smile and handed the scraps of paper to Daniel.

  “You draw first, Emma,” Estella said. “Show us how it's done.”

  “I'm not much of an artist,” I said. “I'll do my best, though.”

  “Isn't that the point?” Agnes asked. “Aren't we supposed to laugh at each other's crude drawings?”

  “Sometimes that happens,” I said. And it would definitely happen now. I was terrible at drawing. More often than not, my art teachers believed I was trying to be funny when I turned in a piece of artwork. Usually it was no better than a toddler’s handiwork.

  Daniel held out the scraps of paper and I chose one. Cinderella. Okay, I was fairly certain everyone in the room was familiar with the fairytale. Pop culture references were often difficult, but traditional folklore and fairytales were common knowledge here.

  My team consisted of Agnes, Estella, and Silas. I tried to think about which element would be the most obvious to them. A pumpkin seemed simplest. As I began to draw, I queried whether the pumpkin was only in the Disney version. Was there one in the original French tale? Crap on a stick, I wasn't sure.

  “What is that?” Agnes asked, squinting.

  “I'm pretty sure that's the point of the game,” one of the members of the other team said—a wizard named Donald.

  Agnes glared at him. “Yes, I understand the rules. Thank you, Donald. But what she’s drawn doesn't even look like a shape known to man.”

  I stepped back to study my attempt at a pumpkin. It wasn't quite round enough to qualify. More like a square pumpkin with rounded edges. And now I was pretty sure there was no pumpkin in the French version.

  “Hold on,” I said. I scribbled over the pathetic shape and tried again. I drew a girl in plain clothes in front of a fireplace. Below that picture, I drew a girl in a ball gown. Then I drew an arrow from the top picture to the bottom one.

  Estella frowned. “Are those people or cats?”

  “She can't answer that,” Daniel said. He scratched his chin. “To be honest, though, I'm not sure myself.”

  “Traitor,” I hissed.

  I saw the hint of a smile on his lips. Ther
e was my Daniel. I glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly eight o’clock. I wondered whether the Obsession potion was wearing off. Maybe that was the reason I tended to see glimpses of the Daniel I knew in the evening.

  “Can we use magic?” Silas asked.

  I placed a hand on my hip. “You’re banned from using magic in the care home, so what do you think?”

  Silas fell silent.

  “No amount of magic can help that anyway,” Agnes said, pointing to my drawing.

  “Hey,” I objected. “You wanted me on your team.”

  “Technically he did,” Agnes said. “And that’s only because he can see down your shirt when you bend forward to draw.”

  I shot a quick look at Silas, who flashed me a guilty grin. “You can’t deny an old man the few pleasures he has left.”

  “Well, I sure can,” Agnes said, glaring at him.

  “Agnes, my sweet,” he cooed. “Try as you might, you deny me nothing.”

  Agnes shook a bony finger at him. “I’m going to deny ever knowing you if you don’t shut up right now.”

  He grabbed her finger and kissed the tip of it.

  “Can we get back to the game?” Estella asked. “I’m feeling nauseous watching the two of you.”

  We played three rounds before their energy flagged, which suited me fine because I was exhausted from a long day.

  “Goodnight, my angel,” Agnes said, blowing Daniel a kiss.

  “Take care, Agnes,” he said. “See you next time.”

  “Wear tighter pants,” Agnes said. “I can’t quite admire the curve of your butt in these.”

  “I’ll try to remember,” he said, suppressing a smile.

  Once the participating residents retired to their rooms for the evening, Daniel and I set to work tidying up the cafeteria. He swept up the debris while I put away the drawing board and other game paraphernalia.

  “I think we’ll see a care home wedding before too long,” he said, in that good-natured tone that I’d grown to adore. It was a far cry from the brooding angel I’d first met. He’d become less Eeyore, more Tigger. Okay, not quite as excitable as Tigger. Maybe more Winnie the Pooh.