The Wedding Witch: a paranormal cozy mystery (The Fairyvale Mysteries)

by Sofia Belle

  “Oh, the bridesmaids are also on the twelfth floor,” she said, “but we'll be able to tell which room they're in based on the noise. I wanted room 1210 for an entirely different reason.”

  I got a sinking feeling in my gut. “I'm not going to like your reasoning, am I?”

  Rosie shook her head.

  “That means I'm probably going to love this idea, huh?” Layla opened her compact mirror and reapplied a swatch of bright lipstick. “Since Bel and I pretty much always disagree on good ideas.”

  Rosie smiled. “Oh, you're going to love this.”

  Chapter 6

  ** **

  “This is not okay,” I hissed, hanging over the ledge of the hotel balcony. “This is not okay. We were just supposed to come by and check on the bridesmaids. And now I'm falling off a building. What is wrong with this picture?”

  “Just a quick peek,” Rosie said. “It's your job, after all.”

  “This is not my job!” I hollered. “I came here to check on the bridal party, not play Spider-Man.”

  “Well, the bridesmaids are boring,” Layla said. “So we're just making things a little bit more interesting.”

  We'd checked on the bridesmaids already. After stepping onto Floor 12, it'd been easy to pick out the party room. The pop of a cork, the delivery of room service, and the blaring TV playing romantic movies over and over again were just the first giveaways.

  We didn’t use real magic much, but the three of us had learned a few spells in our younger years, mostly to play tricks on one another. I'd fashioned something called a Peeper—a mirror that could see through walls—out of Layla's compact. After muttering the simple spell and adjusting for the correct angle of light, I was granted sixty seconds of visibility through the walls.

  I'd watched in the mirror as the girls lounged on the bed eating chips, mumbling soft phrases about the characters in the movie, and, all in all, having a very tame movie night.

  Normally, I would've been relieved to see such a calm bachelorette party, and I would have left straightaway. However, one thing led to another, and when I turned to Layla to hand her compact mirror back to her, she'd disappeared a few doors down.

  Rosie and I had followed in close pursuit, but halfway down the hall, we heard voices. Male voices. Whispered tones, a conversation that we probably weren't meant to hear, headed right at us. With nowhere to hide, Rosie whipped the key card out of her pocket and let us into room 1210.

  As soon as we slipped inside, Layla had noticed the balconies between Rooms 1208 and 1210 were connected. Rosie grinned, and I got the feeling she'd known exactly what she'd been doing when she booked the room next to Linda's. Easy access to a crime scene? Rosie couldn’t pass it up.

  Which was how I’d gotten roped into hanging over the railing for dear life.

  Rosie had spotted a movement inside the room next door, followed quickly by a thunk that sounded like someone was inside, and someone was moving heavy objects. The next thing I knew, the two girls were convincing me to climb across to balcony 1208 and make sure that nobody was intruding on Linda’s old room.

  “I don’t see anyone,” I whispered. “Are you sure you saw something, Rosie?”

  “I saw it too, and I would never pull your leg,” Layla said. “I mean, of course I would, but just not on something this important.”

  “I am hanging off of a balcony. Can one of you help me?” I might have been exaggerating the smallest amount, but I was as close to dangling from a ledge as I'd ever come. I had two hands on the railing, one foot on each balcony. When I looked down, I froze in place. “I can't move.”

  “Just throw your leg over. It's only a few inches apart,” Layla coaxed. Rosie covered her eyes. “Do it for Linda. Just take a quick peek and make sure nobody's in there rifling through her things.”

  “I'm stuck. My foot is stuck,” I said, in the splits between balconies. We were so high off the ground that a fall wouldn't even hurt. I'd just be squashed like a pumpkin. “The distance between the balconies didn't look so far when I was safely on land.”

  “The distance isn't far,” Layla said. “You can do it. Plus, you're magic. Worst-case scenario, add a Softening Spell to your fall. You'll have plenty of time before you hit the ground, you know.”

  “What if I forget the incantation? I’m too nervous. I can’t remember anything.” I closed my eyes. “Help me get down!”

  Layla said the incantation loudly:

  “Soften my fall, soften my blow.

  Make my landing very slow.

  Give me pillows and make them fat,

  Or give me one big squishy mat.”

  I repeated the words, gathering up all my courage, and lifted my left foot. I swung it over to join my right, my hands gripping the railing so tightly that my knuckles were white as unicorn hair.

  When I opened my eyes, I wasn't squished, and the pillow spell had even helped me land on Linda's balcony with an extra-soft touch.

  “I did it!” I whispered, turning to face the girls. I did a little jump up and down. “I did it! You're right, it wasn't that hard.”

  “Plus, you're a witch,” Layla said again. “You have magic, ya know. There really wasn't any risk.”

  “Yeah, well, I don't see you climbing over any railings,” I said. “Now, give me a second to make sure nobody's in Linda's room, and then we can get going. We've already been here longer than we should.”

  “Since we have a room,” Rosie said. “We could stay here for the night. Have a few drinks, join the bachelorette party...”

  I shook my head. “Too much to do, and I want to sleep in my own bed.”

  “Fine,” Rosie mumbled. “No fun.”

  I muttered a quick charm that made the curtains across the windows to Linda’s room more translucent, turning them from a solid white to a more of a gauzy tulle. “I don't see any movement in there.”

  “We heard something,” Rosie said. “Look closer.”

  I moved up and down the balcony, muttering the charm two or three more times to keep the curtains from obstructing my view again. Inside was a perfectly normal hotel room. A bed, a desk, and a television. A suitcase sat on the floor, but I didn't see a huge mess around the room, just a T-shirt and a pair of shorts that looked as if they might have been worn as pajamas the previous evening.

  Now that I thought about it, I wasn't sure the hotel had been notified about Linda’s death. If they had, it didn't look like they'd done anything to the room. Had the cops been here? There was no caution tape or fingerprint powder anywhere that I could see.

  “You guys, I don't see anything.”

  When I turned to the girls, neither of them had a response. Rosie blinked, first one big blink and then a few in rapid succession. Layla's mouth opened, then sort of just hung there, both of the girls staring over my shoulder.

  “What? Did you see something again?” I tossed a quick look over my shoulder. I expected to see nothing. Then I did a double-take. Because instead of seeing nothing like I should have, I spied a big shadow looming behind me on the other side of the door.

  Before I could let out a shriek, Layla raised her hand and pointed a trembling finger as the glass door slid open. I lunged for the other side of the balcony, while Rosie leapt forward, her arms outstretched between the two platforms.

  Our fingers fell short of each other. Just missing, the wind whooshing by as I swiped and missed again. We couldn’t connect before a set of strong, muscled arms circled my waist and pulled me back—hard.

  I grunted, my air coming in gasps as I kicked and struggled and screamed. My screams were muffled thanks to a large, gloved hand pressed hard to my mouth, and my kicks and elbows landed on a wall of firm muscle.

  My attacker didn't flinch, not even when I gave him a good punch to the gut. Instead, my fist was greeted with a wall of abs stronger than steel, and I ended up coming away from the blow shaking my hand, wondering if my fingers were broken.

  “I'd stop that if I were you,” a low voice growled i
n my ear. “We're really close to the edge right now, and I'd hate to trip and let you go.”

  “Then hold on tight,” I snapped back, surprising myself with the response.

  He laughed, his breath hot against my ear. “Feisty. They told me you'd be difficult.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, the man smelled nice. “Who told you I'd be difficult?”

  “Someone's coming. Quiet.”

  I fell silent. The hand pressed against my lower back was filled with a quiet warning, and magical powers or not, I still didn't feel like taking a nosedive off the ledge of the building. So I waited, inhaling the spicy, outdoorsy scent of the large figure holding me captive, my eyes wide with fear looking toward the girls on the other balcony.

  “Let her go,” Rosie hissed, her bulldog personality coming out as she hung partially over the railing. “Let her go, or you'll be sorry.”

  “You'll be sorry if you don't keep it down.” The man spoke, his voice a rumble against the cloudless sky. “Those aren't the cleaners inside.”

  Rosie opened her mouth then shut it. She looked over my shoulder and into the room, where I could hear muted noises and someone speaking. Another voice responded, leading me to believe there were two people inside the room. I couldn't make out whether the voices were male or female, let alone what actual words they were speaking.

  “Here's the plan.” The man behind me tightened the grip of his hand over my mouth. “You two ladies are going to walk back inside of that room right now. You're going to go downstairs, grab a drink in the lobby, and wait for your friend to join you.”

  “What are you going to do with her?” Layla’s brows furrowed. “Mr. Mystery Man, this girl here might look like Ms. Tomb Raider, but only because I dressed her that way. She doesn't know what she's doing. Just let her go.”

  “I can't do that. Not yet.”

  “Of course you can.” I wiggled slightly against his grasp, but not too hard. Hopefully he could see that I posed no threat to him whatsoever. “Just let me go. I'll climb back over the railing and pretend I never saw you.”

  “You wanted to join in on my plan? Now you can help me out of it.” He sank back against the far railing, taking me with in his arms. “You wouldn't want this to end poorly, would you?”

  Rosie and Layla's faces were conflicted, a shadow of desperation behind a mask of calm. My heart rate sped up as we leaned partially over the edge of the building.

  “Just let her go,” Layla said once more, but it was clear she was hitting a dead end.

  It was too dangerous for Layla to make any real sort of move. Sure, she was a witch, but the whole problem with this “not-talking-about-magic” rule was that we didn't know if my attacker had powers, too.

  If Layla or Rosie hit him with a spell and he deflected it, they might be the ones toppling off the building. Spells or no spells, it still wasn't healthy for a witch to be landing on concrete from twelve levels up in the air.

  “Go, you guys,” I said. My voice wobbled. “Go inside the room. Listen to what he says.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” He cinched me tighter, shielding my body with his. From where we were perched, the people inside Linda's room couldn't see us. However, if they stepped out of the hotel room onto the balcony, we'd be in trouble.

  “Go,” I said again, ignoring the crack in my whispered words. “I'll meet you at the bar in a few minutes.”

  Layla and Rosie backed up slowly, opening the door to their hotel room, slinking inside, and closing it. We held still, the man and I, until we heard the slam of the main door.

  “They're gone,” I said after a brief pause. “Can you please explain what you need me for now?”

  “You're my escape plan.”

  “Oh yeah? Good thing I showed up then,” I said, heavy on the sarcasm.

  “I always have multiple escape plans,” he murmured. “However, I like to go with the flow, and you just fell right into my arms. I'm not a particularly superstitious man, but I'm wondering if perhaps fate does exist.”

  “What's our escape plan?”

  “We have to let these two intruders finish rummaging around the room. When they leave, I plan for you and I to walk right out that front door.”

  “Sounds simple. Couldn't you have walked out that front door all by your lonesome?” I tried to cross my arms, but he held my wrists behind my back with one of his hands. “You're a big boy.”

  “And you're awfully sarcastic for a woman who got caught snooping in a murder victim's hotel room.”

  “How did you know Linda?”

  “You also ask a whole lot of questions, ones I don't particularly feel like answering.” His words danced like a song under the stars, his breath tickling my neck and sending goose bumps all over my body. “You are going to be my cover; we’re not the only person interested in Room 1208 tonight, and it’ll look a whole lot less suspicious if I walk out with a swooning woman on my arm.”

  “I don’t swoon.”

  “Could you try?”

  If I didn't know better, I'd have said we were flirting, but that was impossible. First of all, men didn't initiate flirting with me. I blamed the curse. Rosie said it was because I seemed too uptight and focused, and my serious expression was enough to intimidate even the most ambitious of men. Layla said it was because I needed to dress more like the fun, feisty twenty-something that I was. I still blamed the curse.

  “How am I going to be your cover?” I looked down. “I'm dressed like a cat burglar.”

  “A cat burglar with a good sense of fashion.”

  “You like my outfit?” I hesitated. “Thanks. It's a bit out of my comfort zone.”

  He spun me around then, and I crashed into his chest. Which was just as broad and muscular as the rest of his body. For the first time, I caught a full glimpse of him. At some point in the last few seconds, I'd started to think of him not as my attacker but as my Mystery Man. And I wasn't sure if that was the smartest or the dumbest thing I'd done all day, but for some reason, my gut instinct told me to trust him. So I went with my gut.

  “You look like a cat burglar, that is one option...” The man spoke like satin, my pulse pounding in response.

  “There’s another option?” I raised an eyebrow.

  Mystery Man stood before me, a real James Bond with baby-blue eyes and jet-black hair. He wore a suit so finely tailored I could've stood him on the altar and given him a bride, and he'd look the perfect groom.

  My heart sped up as I looked down, noting the thin, black leather gloves over his hands. Not a good sign—I should know. I looked down at my own arms, clad in similar gloves, knowing that we were both here for the same reason.

  “I never do this,” I said, looking down. “Promise.”

  “Do what?”

  “Break into hotel rooms.” I gestured to our gloves. “What are the chances we’d end up here at the same time?”

  A lopsided smile turned up the corner of his mouth. “Who says I'm breaking in?”

  “Oh, you mean, the gloves, the black outfit, the fedora covering your face with shadows...” I trailed off, wishing I could see more of his face. Most men would look ridiculous in a fedora, but not this one. He looked classy as all heck, and when he winked at me, I almost fell off the building of my own accord. “Do you need me to go on?”

  “You're good for my ego. Feel free to continue if you'd like.” Mystery Man gathered me close again and pulled me to the very edge of the balcony.

  He raised a gloved finger to his lips, gesturing for silence. Unlike last time, when my back had been pressed to his chest, we stood face to face. His five o'clock shadow brushed against my forehead as he pulled me farther to the side, keeping me out of sight.

  I managed to peek past his shoulder. Two forms moved inside the room, quick and stealthy. From my vantage point, I could see they'd opened drawers, rifled through a few of Linda's belongings, and generally made a mess of the place. But I guessed they hadn't found what they were looking for yet. Otherwis
e why would they still be around? More importantly, why was Linda's hotel room such a hot spot to be tonight? First us three girls, then Mystery Man, and finally two more people snooping around.

  The stranger tonight became, the more convinced I was that Linda's death hadn't been an accident.

  “We need to get them out of the room.” Mystery Man spoke in low, calculated tones. “We can't let them find anything.”

  “How can we do that if we don't know what they're looking for?”

  “Who says we don't know what they're looking for?”

  “Well, do you?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Which is all the more reason we have to stall. Because I need to find it first.”

  “Hey, buddy, you're just as bad as them. What about me? Linda was part of my bridal party. I need to find it, too. Whatever ‘it’ is.”

  I didn’t know why I felt so comfortable around him. Because I liked his cologne? Because his five o'clock shadow was sexy? Because his presence made my stomach do flip-flops for no good reason at all? I bit my lip. “I'm coming inside with you.”

  “Of course you are. That's not up for debate. The real question is how do we get the two goons inside to leave?”

  I looked down at my shoes, pretending to shrug with confusion, when really, it was all a ruse. I had a pretty good idea for how to get the men out of the room, and it involved a little hex and a tiny, harmless explosion. Muttering the incantation quietly enough so that Mystery Man wouldn’t hear was the biggest issue.

  “What are you mumbling?” He dipped his head next to my lips. “I can’t hear you.”

  I shut my mouth. Not doing magic in front of others was a rule, a strict one at that, and I couldn't get in trouble, not now. Not in the middle of the biggest wedding of the summer, an event that was already going further off the rails than I'd ever imagined possible.

  Up until yesterday, I'd been worried about salad forks and soup spoons. Today, I was worried about murder, bad guys, and falling from buildings. Life had a surprising way of putting things in perspective quickly.

  “Nothing,” I said, waiting, pressed between his body and the railing. It would be impossible to use a spell with him this close. Luckily, my friends had a better idea.