Stone Cold Witch (Nightshade Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Lori Woods

  “I don’t believe so, Suzy,” Doc says. “If you all want to bury him… well…”

  “They’ll have to break him up into pebbles to get him to fit in a casket,” Sheriff Dudley says, and one of the younger werewolves yelps.

  “Okay, thanks for that, Sheriff,” Alfie says, giving the man a slight nudge. “I think you’ve done more than enough for us today.”

  Good riddance, I think to myself. Dudley sure does have a way of saying the wrong things at the wrong time. Alfie sees the Sheriff out, probably to take him to the scene of the crime for him to do an ill-fated attempt at investigating. The female werewolf who had stood up for me is still beside me when I turn back around after watching Alfie shoo the sheriff out. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I say to her. “Were you and Ted close?”

  “Fairly so,” she says. “Ted was my cousin. Ted and I are two of many of Joe’s nibblings.”

  “Nibblings?” I question.

  “Nieces and nephews,” she says as though this is a super common word that the local librarian should definitely know.

  “Oh yes,” I say, pretending I had merely let the word slip my vocabulary for a moment.

  She giggles slightly at me. “I have a word of the day calendar from the other side I bought from a flea market in a town not far from here. Nibbling was my word of the day once last week. You are from the other side, aren’t you? Or at least, that’s what everyone says.”

  “Yes, I am,” I say. “My grandmother brought me to an orphanage on the other side when I was two.”

  “Interesting,” she says. “I’m always interested about life over there. A world without magic seems ridiculous to me. But I suppose when you first got here you were a bit confused as well.”

  “It was certainly a culture shock,” I admit. “My name’s Suzy, by the way.”

  “Laura,” she says and offers me a warm smile. She is officially the most adorable werewolf I have ever met. I mean, who would honestly find mortal culture an interesting subject? I stand there listening to her talk about the other side like it is truly the magical place, and it’s just delightful. She’s seen a handful of movies and read a few books from the other side, and she calls mortals fascinating creatures. Apparently, she has a collection of other side items she’s gathered over the years, such as her word of the day calendar. Her proudest item she tells me is a football, but as she describes it to me I realize she’s talking about a basketball. I decide to not burst her bubble since we have only just met.

  “Well,” I say to her, “since you’re so fascinated with the other side, I’d be happy to talk to you about it sometime. If you have any questions about it, that is.”

  “That sounds just lovely,” she says. “Suzy, I’d like to invite you to my wedding.”

  “Oh, you’re getting married?” I ask.

  She looks over her shoulder at the young man who had been holding her earlier. “Yes, in just a few days,” she says. “I would be honored to have you present.”

  I smile and tell her that I’ll definitely make it. Truth be told, I haven’t made a whole lot of girlfriends since moving to Nightshade. I had met another witch, Red Sumac, who I had become friends with during my time in Hemlock, but as far as here in Nightshade, I had not had the time or the luck in meeting women my age. I had plenty of guy friends at this point. Val, Doc, Alfie, Sprout, and even Joe—all I consider to be my friends (Val, something more, obviously). But other than Snowball and Granny Maycomber’s spirit, which is trapped inside a chalice, well, let’s just say it would be nice to have some girlfriends. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say to Laura, and she grins happily at me.

  After my conversation with Laura, I decide to go find Joe. As I predicted, he is sulking in the garden. “You should be careful out here,” I say. “Sprout still hasn’t dug up all those poison ivy plants.”

  “Yeah, I was starting to itch,” he admits. He takes a breath. “I’m sorry, Suzy. I was angry, and I needed someone to take it out on.”

  “I understand,” I say. “And don’t worry about it.” I step forward and reach up, placing a hand on the tall man’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry about what happened to Ted. We’ll figure out who did this.”

  “Not with Dopey Dudley on the case,” he groans. “I should get back to my pack.”

  “I’ll go with you,” I say, feeling glad to have gotten an apology from Joe. The two of us head back into the library’s main lobby. The werewolves all look to Joe for some sort of guidance and decision to be made about Ted.

  “You’re certain there is nothing we can do for him at this point, Doc?” he asks, turning toward the elderly elf who is seated at one of the library’s tables.

  “I’m afraid not,” Doc says. “He’s gone, Joe.”

  Joe nods towards some of the young men. “Let’s take Ted home. We’ll figure something out as far as a funeral goes later.”

  Sprout and Snowball, I see, have arrived back, and Val is here now as well. As the town’s preacher, I am guessing someone asked him to come be with the mourning family. Sprout stands upright and approaches Joe cautiously. “Um… the library has a wheelbarrow out by the garden. It would be easier to get him home instead of you all lifting him up like you did to get him here.”

  Joe thanks Sprout for the offer, and the group of werewolves carry Ted to the library’s garden. I slump down in the table across from Doc. “I should have been here,” I say once all the werewolves have left.

  I feel Val touch my shoulder. “This is not your fault, Suzy.”

  I look up at him, offering him a half smile.

  “You couldn’t have known we’d need you, Suzy,” Alfie assures me.

  “Well, we need to find what witch did this,” I say.

  “Might not have been a witch,” Val says.

  “Who else could turn someone into stone? It had to be some sort of spell,” I argue.

  Doc clears his throat, and the old elf drags his feet towards one of the large bookshelves. “Not necessarily, Suzy.” The man’s long, wrinkly finger touches each spine carefully as he searches for the proper book, his glasses falling to the tip of his nose as he does so.

  “Next shelf over, you old coot,” Alfie says, nearly tripping over his long, red beard as he makes his way to the empty chair beside me.

  “Ah, yes, thank you, Alfie.” Doc pulls a book from the shelf—a large, leather-bound book covered in dust—and makes his way over to me. As he slams the heavy book down in front of me, he says, “Magic, my dear Suzy, is not just reserved for witches.”

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “I think we might could possibly be dealing with a basilisk,” Doc says, flipping the book open to a page with an illustration of what looks like a giant, demonic snake.

  “Whoa!” I exclaim frightfully. “That thing gives me the creeps.”

  “They’re not exactly kind-hearted creatures,” Val says. “But a basilisk, Doc? Wouldn’t Ted have simply died if he had looked at one?”

  “Wait, they kill you by looking at you?” I ask.

  “You have to look them in the eye,” Doc says. “but yes, their stare is deadly. You’re right, Val. A basilisk’s stare would just kill a person, but if perhaps Ted saw the basilisk’s reflection instead of looking him dead on, there are some cases where a person instead turns to stone instead of dying outright.”

  “It would explain why he looked so frightened,” Alfie says. “Not much can scare a werewolf like that.”

  “True,” Val says. “But a serpent? Surely someone would have noticed a giant snake slithering around.”

  “Wait,” I say, sitting upright. “In the woods where they found Ted, I saw something sprayed on the tree Ted had been leaned up against. Do the basilisks spray venom?”

  “Most species do,” Doc said. “If what you found is venom, I’d say we found our culprit.”

  “Oh dear,” Val says. “Hunting basilisks is awfully tricky.”

  “How so?” Snowball asks.

  “Lis
ten genius,” Alfie says. “If you look at them, you’re dead.”

  “Val, perhaps you could call in some assistance?” Doc suggests. “Send word to some other vampires to come help us out? Our town is mostly warlocks, werewolves, and dwarves. I can’t imagine we’d handle a basilisk too well.”

  “What are the vampires going to be able to do?” I ask.

  Val smiles at me. “Suzy, my dear, a basilisk’s stare can’t kill something that’s already dead.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  I POUR a bit of water into the silver cup of life seated at the edge of my home desk. When I was in Hemlock, Granny stayed in the Library but now that I’m back, I prefer to have her with me at the cottage—her former home.

  After a moment, I hear an old woman’s voice yawn.

  “Were you sleeping, Granny?” I ask.

  “Maybe,” a voice echoes from the small chalice.

  I play around with the hem of my knee-length dress as I sway slightly back and forth in my chair. I’m not really a huge dress person, but I figured for a wedding I could make an exception. “I need some advice,” I say as to the reason of summoning her. My grandmother’s spirit has been trapped inside that chalice for some time. I had always thought she had abandoned me at the orphanage on the other side, but truthfully she had been protecting me from Night Shadow. He had once been a powerful warlock hoping to kill a Spell Master, namely my grandmother, to become more powerful. When my grandmother had not been home, he went after my mother instead, and killed my father in the process as well. My mother hadn’t been a Spell Master, thank goodness; otherwise he would have possessed that incredible power. I had been two, and my memory of that incident was incredibly faint. The last thing I could remember from before I was thrown to the other side and raised human by workers at the orphanage was this feeling of betrayal as my grandmother left me on the stoop of the building. Turns out, after all those years of harboring such confusion and a bit of hatred, she had only been protecting me.

  Now that all of that is out in the open, it’s nice having my grandmother’s spirit around. Night Shadow had killed her, but she is not dead dead. Nope, she is trapped inside this beautiful chalice. All I have to do to speak to her is put a little water in it, and poof.

  “Advice?” My grandmother’s voice cackles slightly. “Is that all I’m ever good for?”

  “Aw, Granny, you know I always need you for one thing or another,” I say. “And just talking from time to time is good too. Sorry I haven’t summoned you in a while.”

  “It’s all right, dear,” she says. “I’m sure life has been hectic at the library.”

  “Always,” I say.

  “So what does my darling granddaughter need my help with this evening?”

  I smile. I know she’s got my back. “Well, I’m heading to a wedding. A werewolf wedding. I just wasn’t sure what to expect.”

  “Oh! What fun!” my grandmother cries out. “Werewolves really know how to have a good time.”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” I say. “I’m just not really sure if there’s any… werewolf etiquette I should know about.”

  “Werewolf etiquette! Suzy, they’re people with animalistic tendencies. There’s really not a whole lot of etiquette you need to worry about,” my grandmother says, practically laughing at the thought. “Oh, you know what? One thing that I would do is avoid wearing perfume.”

  “Perfume?”

  “Werewolves are people, yes, but they are part hounds. Even in their humanoid form, they have some dog-like idiosyncrasies. Covering up your natural scent makes them nervous—makes them think you’re hiding something. But other than that, werewolf weddings are not very different from what you may have experienced from the other side. If anything, they’re a bit more traditional. The bride doesn’t necessarily wear white, but she will wear her nicest gown—whatever color that may be, and she’ll carry flowers. There will be a party afterwards with food, I’m sure. Werewolves don’t traditionally exchange rings, but I’ve heard that’s become more common since my time. There will be an exchanging of vows and so on and so forth.”

  “Sounds pretty tame,” I say.

  “Yes, I’d say so. Werewolves are not very different from humans apart from their more intense pack mentality… and the fact they turn into wolves during the full moon or emergencies, but that’s all, really,” she says. “I love your dress, Suzy. You look like you’re ready to impress.”

  I blush slightly. “Well, I do have a date for the wedding.”

  “Let me guess…”

  “Val,” I say embarrassingly. “I could use some advice there as well. It’s not like I’ve ever dated a vampire before.”

  “Most witches would say you’re going through a rebellious streak dating a vampire… but Val is a lot more disciplined than your average vampire, being a preacher and all. He seems very sweet. Dating a vampire can be tricky since they usually sleep during the day, but Val seems to have trained himself to get on schedule with everyone else in town.”

  “Yeah, he’s the only vampire in Nightshade so he is usually up during the day, with the help of some heavy sunscreen and makeup” I say. “I mean… I don’t mean to sound paranoid or anything… but should I be worried about dating a vampire?”

  “Are you asking me if he’s going to suck your blood?”

  “Maybe.”

  My grandmother laughs again. Loudly. “No, Suzy. You don’t need to worry about that. We live in a modern society. Vampires get their blood from local blood banks or from personal cattle stock.”

  I snicker slightly at this. I bet with there not being much vampire activity in the area, Val must have some sort of personal stock of animals he keeps alive to occasionally feast on blood. Ha! My little preacher boy is also a farmer. Oh dear. The image of Val working out in the field, flexing his muscles, causes me to feel flustered. I clear my throat, eager to change the subject. “You know what? I haven’t told you about Ted.”

  “The werewolf?”

  “He’s been killed,” I say.

  “Heavens!”

  “Yeah, he was found turned to stone.”

  “Stone?” my grandmother questions. “What sort of creatures do you have running around Nightshade now?”

  “I’m not sure. Doc thinks we might have a basilisk on our hands. I was hoping you could tell me more about them.”

  “I’m not sure Doc’s on the right track. A basilisk’s stare won’t turn someone to stone. It will kill them outright. Dead dead in a flash.”

  I nod along, but I decide to give Doc some credit. “Well, Doc did say that if you see the reflection of a basilisk that it could turn someone to stone. And we found venom at the scene.”

  “Hmmm…” my grandmother pauses for a moment. “There have been a few incidences. But most times even seeing a reflection causes immediate death, not being turned to stone. I suppose that is possible. Was there anything in the woods that Ted could have seen a basilisk’s reflection in?”

  “You know what? I didn’t really look for something like that,” I say. “I should go back and check it out.”

  “Do be careful, Suzy. If Doc thinks there is a basilisk roaming around Nightshade, even a powerful Spell Master can be killed by its stare,” she says. “And I do mean dead dead. Not just dead.”

  “Understood,” I say. “I’ve got to go finish getting ready.”

  “No perfume,” she reminds me.

  “No perfume,” I say with a chuckle.

  Snowball is running around my bedroom. I wash off the tiny spritz of perfume I had put on my wrists before finishing my hair and makeup. By the time I’m finished with that, there’s a knock on my door. I swing the door open and smile. “Hey you!” I say and step back. Val just stands there.

  “Suzy…”

  “Oh!” I blush, realizing I’m just staring. “Sorry, please, come in,” I say, clearing my throat. Since Val has been here before, I don’t have to officially invite him inside, but I do anyway. I find it a little strange that he can’t
get inside somewhere without being invited, but I guess that’s one of the many weird things about dating a vampire.

  He looks amazing. He’s wearing a suit—albeit a very gothic style suit. He smiles down at Snowball. “You coming tonight?” he asks.

  “A room full of people with dog DNA?” Snowball questions. “No, I think I’m good.”

  Val and I both laugh. She does have a point. “All right, well, try to not burn the house down while I’m gone, okay, Snowball?”

  “If you insist,” she says as though that had been her very intention.

  Val escorts me outside, and my eyes widen to see a carriage. “What is this?” I exclaim.

  “Too much?” Val asks, suddenly looking very embarrassed.

  I walk around the front of the black carriage and nearly jump out of my socks to see a horse that is nothing but bones—a skeletal structure moving its head up and down as it waits patiently to get moving. “Holy cow!” I cry out in shock. I look up at the driver; he’s just an overcoat.

  “What’s wrong with your girl, Val?” the floating black overcoat asks.

  “She’s new around here…” Val says, still looking very embarrassed. “Perhaps we should have just walked… you probably would have preferred a living horse…this was stupid, wasn’t it?”

  I kiss his cheek, and if vampires could blush, I’m sure he would have. “I love it,” I say, and he helps me up into the carriage. “I feel like Cinderella heading off to the ball.”

  Val looks positively self-conscious. I’m assuming a carriage driven by a ghost and a horse skeleton is a romantic gesture out this way, while to me it’s coming off as a tiny bit creepy. But I still like it. Val helps me into the back of the carriage and we sit near one another. Oh wow, he is really embarrassed, I think to myself. I grab his hand, and he then smiles at me.

  Honestly, this is probably better than an actual carriage ride. With our driver being a ghost, I can see straight through and enjoy the scenery. And the skeleton smells a lot better than it would be staring down the wrong end of a living horse. It’s ghoulish and totally adorable, and I love it. The wedding is taking place at a large venue just on the edge of town. It’s an empty castle, and it’s the go-to place for fancy events in Nightshade, so I’m told.