by Amy Casey
Curses and Cupcakes
Amy Casey
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
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
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Chapter 1
Oh damn. They’re here. They’re actually here together. I mean, do you think it could be true, Stella? Do you think all those rumours could actually be true?”
I heard Annabelle’s voice and part of me was piqued by her curiosity, naturally. Hey, I was a curious person too. Not a nosy person. I just liked to know what was going on in the world. I liked to have a good measure of situations, of people.
And sure. That can be misconstrued as nosiness. But I saw it differently. I saw it as looking out for myself. For showing an interest in the community around me.
That’s all it was. A natural, healthy sense of curiosity.
At least I kept telling myself that.
I looked across the coffee shop and bakery as I stood at the counter, twirling my silver bracelet around my wrist. This place was mine. Family business, anyway. Witchy Delights, it was called, which I found curious for several reasons. First reason being that I honestly didn’t think “Witchy Delights” was all that good a name for a coffee shop. I mean, what the hell did witches have to do with coffee anyway? Granted, we could do a few themed drinks—cauldron coffees, things like that. We had a good bakery too, with all kinds of sweet, topical goods. And hey; Halloween was always a blast.
But there was another reason why the name of the shop was curious.
And that was probably the fact that I actually, well, was a witch.
“I mean they could just be here as friends. Everyone’s friends around Goosridge, right?”
I listened to Annabelle droning on and kept my focus across the coffee shop. It was a quiet morning. We had the usual customers in here—Trevor sitting in the corner reading the local news, grumbling about something or other. We had Margaret, who always stopped by for coffee and a cake—a “treat” for the fact she’d managed to run her way down here. Although even that was in doubt simply because one of my good friends, Mary—who also sometimes worked with me—swore she’d seen her walking idly with a bacon butty one morning on her way down here.
The fact of the matter? Goosridge wasn’t a very exciting small town. Everybody knew everybody. Nothing serious ever went down, not really.
Which was why the fact that Richard Harbour and Sarah Seeks sitting in this shop together right now had Annabelle and me thoroughly curious.
Richard was a tall, dark-haired man with thick-rimmed glasses. He always wore a chunky wool overcoat, regardless of whether it was five degrees or twenty-five. Although admittedly, the latter was rare. Goosridge wasn’t known for its tropical climate. It was nice, that was for sure. The kind of place perched between the hills of the Pennines and the Lake District where cyclists and walkers would stop by for a drink and some food. Tourism was part of what kept Witchy Delights so successful; people loved a novelty coffee, it seemed.
But really, Goosridge was a town of its locals. It was a town of idiosyncratic characters; a town of happiness, of togetherness. And if somebody were struggling, there’d always be someone there to put an arm around the struggler, to reassure them that they weren’t alone and that everything was going to be okay.
But if there was one thing Goosridge wasn’t, it was that it wasn’t a town where people kept to their own business.
Sarah leaned forward towards Richard. She was a thin woman, with bright blonde hair. She had a look of concern on her face, although I’d definitely seen that look so many times that I was convinced by now it was just her default expression.
“I mean, do you think perhaps Hailey should know about this?”
I turned to glare at Annabelle. She was tall, blonde, wearing her brown barista gear. She always liked getting involved in gossip, perhaps to an unhealthy degree. She also had a knack for falling for each and every man who walked through these doors, which made it a little awkward when they were repeat customers. It was a habit I was trying to get her to shake from her system, partly because I didn’t want to lose business.
But people were people. They didn’t change their colours overnight.
I knew that all too well.
“I don’t think you should be even entertaining telling Hailey a thing,” I said.
Annabelle closed her eyes. “I’m not. I mean, well. I could just mention it.”
“Just mention it?”
“In passing, you know.”
I nodded. “Oh yeah. I can just see it now. ‘Hello, Hailey. Aren’t you looking gorgeous today? How’s Richard, by the way? Looked like he was getting real cosy with Sarah Seeks.’”
Annabelle nodded, smile on her face. “Sounds perfect.”
I tutted, rolled my eyes. “Get back to work. We’ve got better things to focus on.”
Annabelle sighed, turned back to clear a few emptied cups. “Can’t you use some of that famous intuition of yours?”
“My what?”
“Your intuition. You know. You seem to have like… a way of figuring out situations better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
I narrowed my eyes when Annabelle said this. Because she didn’t exactly know I was a witch. A few people suspected as much, and a couple of people knew for certain. But to most people, witches and wizards and all things paranormal were still the work of myth and legend.
And yet I occasionally got the feeling that Annabelle knew exactly what I was and what I was capable of. And that as long as it benefited her, she’d keep it quiet.
She stared at me with that smirk.
“It’s immoral to be nosy,” I said.
“Oh, I know. But when have morals ever bothered you?”
I scratched my dark hair. “Fair point.”
Then I spun around and faced Richard and Sarah square on.
I held my breath. Narrowed my focus. It was tiring and intense, reading minds. Some people were shielded from it, which either said they were strong-willed characters who disciplined themselves in yogic practises or mindfulness, or that they had been able to put some form of barrier up—something that was evidence alone that the paranormal went beyond just me.
But Richard Harbour? Sarah Seeks?
There was no chance I was going to be tripping over any paranormal tripwire where those two were concerned. Of that much I was certain.
I ste
adied my breathing, got myself into that relaxed state. I didn’t want to make what I was doing look too obvious. The focus was intense, and it triggered nosebleeds from time to time, which Mary thought was pretty cool ’cause it reminded her of Eleven from Stranger Things, a comparison I kind of rolled with.
I took a few more deep breaths as Annabelle clattered at the cups and the plates behind me. I could feel time slowing down; feel myself sinking deeper towards Richard’s mind, towards his thoughts. It wasn’t always foolproof, this method. It didn’t always work. Honestly, it was usually pretty underwhelming when I got inside people’s minds, mostly because I was still so weak, still so inexperienced.
But I focused regardless. There was no harm in trying, after all.
Then just as I felt myself crossing over into the precipice of another’s mind, I heard a voice.
“You should really learn to quit being nosy. Here. Your nose is bleeding. Have a tissue.”
I jumped. Jolted out of my trance. My body shook. A bitter taste filled my mouth. It was like waking up from a nap that’d lasted a little too long. Awful feeling.
When I looked over to my right, I realised the voice wasn’t from my mind after all.
Mary was standing there. She was holding a tissue. And she didn’t look impressed.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go grab a drink on your break and leave Annabelle to it. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Chapter 2
I sat in the back of Witchy Delights with Mary while Annabelle led front of house and I tried my best to resist drawing attention to the way my best friend was glaring at me.
“What?” I asked. I couldn’t hold my composure. I just had to get the question off my chest.
Mary sighed. “You know very well what.”
“I really don’t,” I said, standing up from the table we were sat at and walking over towards the kettle.
“I saw the way you were glaring at Richard and Sarah.”
“I was just observing them.”
“Observing them?”
“Yeah,” I said, pouring myself a brew. “I mean, observing them closely.”
“Observing them closely. That’s what you call it now, is it?”
I turned around and looked at Mary. She had light ginger hair, pale skin, freckles across her face. Like me, she was in her late twenties. We’d been friends for years. So many years that she knew what I was, the things I was capable of, and the family line of witches I had come from.
She didn’t judge, though. Which I appreciated. A lack of judgement was always a bonus when you were best friends with someone who knew you were bloody paranormal.
“Look,” I said, sitting back at the table opposite Mary. “I was just curious, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well you want to rein that curiosity in some time. Because it’s going to get you in trouble someday.”
“Get me in trouble? What, am I going to get the staring police on my back?”
“You know what I’m talking about. You know why I worry.”
I took a sip of my tea and for a moment, I had to admit I felt kind of selfish the way I was reacting to Mary’s concern. She had a right to worry about me. She knew about the paranormal. She knew that there were witches in this world—and that there were other beings out there like werewolves, vampires, shifters, even ghosts. I sometimes wondered if she just said she believed me to humour me. But no. She was all in on this. She’d seen the things I was capable of. She’d seen the things I could do. And even though it went against our family code, it felt like Mary was family.
At least that would be my excuse when I got to the gates of witchy heaven and they asked me why I’d let a non-magic in on all my secrets.
I just had to hope they were feeling lenient.
“I know,” I said, sighing. “And I appreciate your worry. Really. I just…”
“You’re just nosy, that’s all.”
I opened my mouth in shock. “Will you stop saying I’m nosy?”
“It’s true though, isn’t it?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Okay, so back in high school, why did you sneak into the boys’ changing rooms with your invisibility activated?”
“How would you know about that? I wasn’t visible.”
“And what about whenever a shifty character walks into this place. Why is it you always have to know a little more about them?”
“It pays to get to know someone, right? I just figure I have a way that skips past the small talk.”
“Whatever, Stella,” Mary said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve known you long enough to know you’re nosy. Don’t think you can fool me.”
“Maybe I’ve just made you think I’m nosy,” I said.
Mary frowned. “What?”
“I’m just saying. I could plant a thought in your head if I wanted to.”
“Darling, you’ve been doing that without your abilities for years. And usually not good thoughts, either. No need to start using another method on me now.”
I smiled. And Mary smiled back. Our friendship was always like this, to be honest. We didn’t argue, never. But there was always an air of banter and snark. It was just how we got along. How we let off steam. How we brought our friendship further.
Sometimes I wished Mary didn’t know the full extent of my powers. I wished I hadn’t told her, and that I could go on pretending I was just an ordinary person without supernatural abilities.
But at the same time, it was nice to have someone I could fully confide in. It hadn’t been that way since my mum died.
I remembered when my mum had died. The way I’d crouched beside her deathbed. The way she’d reached up, held my hand and told me everything—said the words that unblocked my powers.
Of course, I’d had powers slip through in the years prior. I’d made a cat fly with my mind when it was annoying me. I’d made it snow in the middle of summer when I was feeling a bit hot.
But that was the moment where everything changed. That was the moment where my powers were unlocked.
And when I’d got home to Dad, he hadn’t grieved with me. He hadn’t comforted me.
He’d just told me, reluctantly, that now was the time my journey began, and handed me a book. Made me promise not to get too far involved with it, because it wasn’t what he wanted. Seemed like Mum was more eager for me to pursue my true identity after all.
I still saw my dad. But yeah. We had a weird relationship.
I was fourteen when my mum died. I was twenty-eight now. And weirdly, even though Dad had told me that was the start of my journey, I didn’t really feel like I’d gone anywhere—which no doubt pleased him. I’d studied at university. I’d travelled a little. And then I’d come right back home to work in the old family business, eventually taking sole control and running the place while my dad moved out of town and slowly began to lose his marbles.
“That’s just part of my frustration,” I said, thinking aloud, Mary as my witness. “I have these… these abilities. I have this potential. And all I can do with them is listen in on gossip.”
“And make a mocha with your mind,” Mary said.
I tutted, smiled. “Yeah. And that.”
Mary leaned forward. “You wanted a normal life, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Then don’t take it for granted. So many people would kill for a normal life. You’re just like, a deluxe edition of that. You have some quirks, like the cheat codes have been entered on a video game. Doesn’t mean you have to use Fat Head mode just because you can.”
“Fat Head mode?”
“You know. On video games. There’s always a cheat that unlocks a… Never mind. It’s a long story. But anyway. I know damn well how you could put your powers to good use.”
I saw the smirk on Mary’s face and I knew where this was going right away.
“Mary…”
“What?”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
“
You using your mind-reading tricks on me?”
“No. I just… I know you by now.”
Mary sighed and leaned back. “I’m just saying. I think it’s high time you started thinking about settling down with someone. You aren’t getting any younger. Neither of us is.”
I stood up, started to make my way back to the shop, Mary in tow. “Oh how very cliche. Two women engaged in conversation and somehow the topic drifts to men.”
“Well. You’re a witch; I’m your annoying sidekick. We are pretty much living cliches, aren’t we?”
“You know how it is. I don’t have the time or the patience for men.”
“It must be a boring way to live.”
“Well, I live my life and you live yours, okay?”
Mary’s eyes lit up as we got back to the counter. “Speaking of which…”
I looked over at where she was looking and I saw him.
“Daryl Pinto,” she mumbled, her voice putting on a dream-like tone as she watched the butch, well-built hunk in his leather biker jacket step out of the shop with his takeaway coffee.
“Yeah, you want to stay away from him,” I said.
“You know I’m a sucker for a bad boy.”
I glanced back up at Daryl. As he went to cross the road, I saw his eyes look over. Only he didn’t look at Mary. He looked right at me. Smiled.
“Say, you know how I said you’re banned from using your powers for immoral means?” Mary said. “There’s nothing technically stopping you from turning his cute butt right back around and walking him in this direction, is there?”