Here Comes the Witch (A Paranormal Witch Cozy Mystery): (Main Street Witches #1)

by Ani Gonzalez

  Maybe there was something to this stregha thing.

  "But we're done, aren't we?" Kat asked hopefully. "We broke the curse. It should be just a matter of time now."

  Amy looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Are you sure?"

  "Well, yes." Kat fidgeted nervously, recalling the nervous feeling she'd had since the dream. "I mean, there's always a chance we forgot something, but Yolanda doesn't seem to think so."

  Amy snorted and reached for a second bottle of beer. "Oh, I can tell you what you've forgotten."

  "What?"

  Amy raised the beer in a silent toast.

  "Sex."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "I WANT a Sasquatch stand," Caine said, waving his chopsticks around.

  Liam paused mid-bite. "A what?"

  Conversations with Caine were always surreal, but this one was heading straight into X-Files territory. They were sharing Chinese takeout in the PRoVE conference room. Apparently Caine had volunteered to taste-test the Chinese Ghost Festival menu and the restaurant had sent over a veritable cornucopia of ghost-themed Asian foods. The meal had been an unqualified success, and the table was now littered with empty takeout containers and fortune cookie wrappers.

  The headquarters of the Banshee Creek paranormal investigations group was a refurbished Second Empire House on Main Street. It looked exactly like a haunted house should, with purple shingles and green trim that evoked the Edward Gorey School of Architecture. The rooms in the first floor had been turned into office spaces, so that the living and dining rooms were now an enormous conference room with a sprawling table, modern chairs, and posters on the walls depicting chupacabra sightings and alien encounters. The biggest decor item, however, was a map of Banshee Creek depicting all the hauntings and sightings recorded in town.

  There were a lot of them.

  One particular building site was practically covered in the multicolored pins that depicted various types of paranormal activity. There was a yellow flag for electrical mishaps, a blue flag for the presence of cold spots, a red flag for poltergeist activity...

  And a black flag for the curse.

  That building was the Hagen House.

  That was why Liam was here today. The episode with Kat's car bothered him. Their wedding should have broken the curse, and yet Kat's little yellow deathtrap had careened merrily through the town in classic Stephen King fashion.

  Had they gotten something wrong?

  The PRoVE guys knew more about the Hagen House that anyone else, even Liam himself. If Yolanda had made a mistake, Caine and his organization were Liam's best chance of figuring it out.

  But first he had to figure out what the heck was a Sasquatch stand.

  "A yeti stand," Caine repeated. "You know, like the deer hunting blinds the hunters use. I want a tall wood structure that will both camouflage us and allow us to look between the trees. That way they won't see us."

  "You mean the Sasquatch?"

  "Yep. There have been some sightings north of town." Caine pointed to the top of the map. Sure enough, there were a couple of brown flags with ape-like figures on them stuck on the map. "I think they're bogus, but the guys would like to check them out and I need to reward them for putting all of these paper lanterns in the creek." He looked at the stacks of red cylinders that filled the room. "I didn't realize that there would be so many."

  Liam put down his pork dumpling. "So, you're rewarding them with a monster hunt. Are you, um, using guns?"

  Caine frowned. "Don't be ridiculous. You think I'm going to take the chance that someone will blow a hole into a rare cryptozoological find?" He shook his head. "We'll take cameras. Gus is working on a special 'yeti call' that he swears will bring them to us. I just hope it's not a mating call. Last thing I need is a lovesick cryptid chasing after my showrunner. "

  "I see," Liam said, even though he didn't. Not at all. This wasn't an usual occurrence when dealing with PRoVE.

  "I'll send you the plans for the structure," Caine continued. "It should be sturdier than a deer stand. We wouldn't want any shaky shots."

  "God forbid," Liam breathed, trying to figure out how he'd build a Sasquatch stand. He'd seen plenty of strange stuff in Banshee Creek, but this was a first.

  "Don't scoff at my cameras, Hagen." Caine put away his noodles. "They're going to save your butt."

  "From your mouth to God's ears," he muttered.

  "So let's talk about that." Caine reached for his computer tablet. "You want us to air another episode about your house?"

  "A bit more than that. I need you to go over all your archives, everything you've ever researched about it, and I want you to confirm that the curse is actually broken. Then I need you to film an episode explaining that."

  Caine raised a brow. "What makes you think it's not broken."

  "Little things," Liam said, snorting, "like Kat's car doing an unmanned Formula 1 run down Main Street."

  "Bah," Caine scoffed. "It wasn't going that fast."

  "I apologize for my family phantom's lack of driving ability," Liam replied dryly. "The point is that I have to make sure that the curse is gone, and I want that documented."

  Caine nodded. "We can do that. I don't mind reopening the Hagen House files. Something about that suicide always bothered me."

  "In what way?"

  "Just a feeling." Caine stared at his computer screen. "Putting together an episode shouldn't be hard. We still have house footage from that episode we aired two years ago. If we update that, and reuse it we can save a lot of time and money. I can move some things around, but it won't air during Halloween. October is our most popular month, so all the spots are booked."

  "That's okay." Liam wanted the episode to air soon so he could get the house sold, but Halloween was a bit too spooky for what he had in mind. "We'd prefer something a bit less creepy. We want the house to look inviting."

  Caine rubbed his beard. "We could do a Christmas episode. You and your bride decorating your new home for the holidays, that kind of thing."

  December? That was way too long. Could he live with Kat until December?

  "Do you have anything earlier?"

  "Let's see." Caine looked down at his laptop, then at the Chinese food spread before them. "What about the Ghost Festival? We have a lot of local stuff planned for it, but we don't have anything for the YouTube channel except for the promo stuff and that Chinese singer that Abby is bringing. Your house would be perfect."

  That would be excellent. The Ghost Festival was coming up soon. If the show premiered in August, he might be able to sell the house before Thanksgiving.

  There was only one hitch.

  "How would it be perfect for the Ghost Festival?" he asked. "The spectre is not Chinese."

  "True, but it's an ancestor ghost, an angry one at that," Caine mused. "And you guys are trying to pacify it. The Ghost Festival would be perfect. Maybe we can get Yolanda to do a ritual or something."

  "Let me get this straight. You want to film a Caribbean Santeria ritual that aims to exorcise an Italian ghost during a Chinese festival?"

  Caine grinned. "I love it. It's multiculturalism at its best. I'll talk to Yolanda. We'll have to interview you and Kat and tour the house. We'll also need a family history." He typed some notes into the computer. "I can send some guys to Pennsylvania to interview that team that caught Violetta on film. They're nice."

  "Sounds good."

  Caine kept on typing. "We should begin filming ASAP because the editing will take a while." He glanced at Liam. "Do we have a deal? I want to start planning the camo pattern for my Sasquatch stand. I like the woodlands pattern but my guys think the mossy oak will work better."

  Liam wondered why a mossy oak pattern would be more effective against the Yeti, but he didn't ask it out loud. He knew from painful personal experience that questions like that could lead to hours of boring technical discussion on simian eyesight and cryptid evolution.

  "We have a deal on the stand," Liam said, suddenly remembering. "
But I have to talk to Kat about the show. She still has to agree to it."

  Caine nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. I mean, she's going to have to answer some tough questions. People are going to be curious."

  "Curious about what? The curse?"

  "Don't be silly," Caine scoffed. "We've already done an episode on the Hagen House curse. Our audience knows everything there is to know about that."

  "Then what?"

  Caine stared at him as if he'd grown an extra head. "About how it gets broken. You know, how far are you two willing to go and that kind of stuff."

  Liam's head spun. What was Caine talking about? "We got married. We're living together in a house your team classified as 'highly dangerous.' What do you mean?"

  Caine sighed in exasperation. "I mean sex, Hagen. S-E-X. That's what people want to know, the naughty parts."

  Oh.

  "Do you need to go there to break the curse?" Caine continued. "Is a marriage in name only enough for the ghost of Violetta Santelli?" He paused to consider that. "She's Italian, so I would say no, but what do I know? I'm Norwegian and our ghosts don't care about nookie, just raiding, blood feuds, and herring recipes."

  Liam stared at the empty fortune cookie wrappers. Crap.

  "Didn't Yolanda mention that?" Caine asked.

  Liam shook his head. Trying to wrap his head around this. "No, just marriage and living together in the house. That's all."

  Caine leaned forward, frowning. "Really? I mean, don't get me wrong, but big spells are usually more involved than that. There's chanting, props, and other stuff. And also, um, bodily fluids. Those seem to work best."

  Liam shook his head. "It's not a spell. We're breaking a curse. As long as the requirements are met, the curse breaks. It's that simple."

  At least he hoped so.

  Caine leaned back on his chair, arms crossed over his chest. "Well, we're still going to ask the question. Nothing personal, just ratings. You should let Kat know."

  "I will," Liam said, wondering how, exactly, he would do that.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  KAT ASSESSED the contents of her tote bag with relief. At least there was no eye of newt. Apparently, Yolanda really was a vegan sorceress.

  She stood in the kitchen, freshly bathed and dressed in her comfiest pajamas, and glanced at the materials lined up on the countertop. Rose oil, bergamot essence, stalks of rosemary, a bunch of fat soy candles from a brand called "Sorceress' Best," and lots and lots of kosher salt. Yolanda's beginners' kit — and whatever she'd added to it — had all she needed for her very first foray into magic.

  Time to get busy.

  She'd already reviewed her genealogy notes, which included terms like "wise woman" and "midwife," and found that the Santelli women had indeed been healers and counselors in their native Italian village. At least two Santelli ancestresses had been persecuted by the Inquisition, and it seemed likely that they'd fled to America to escape another outburst of excess religiosity in their homes. They'd arrived in New York and quickly became known for their "Famous Roman Elixir," which claimed to heal an impressive number of common ailments. Her notes included several newspaper articles and ads singing the elixir's praises.

  The so-called magical medicine seemed to consist mainly of alcohol, sugar, and wildflower extracts, so it wasn't a surprise that it made their customers feel "revitalized and energized," as the advertisements boasted. And that wasn't their only product. The Santellis also produced a "Miracle Syrup" with cinnamon, sugar, and, you guessed it, copious amounts of alcohol, as well as a "Soothing Nerve Tonic" with anisette flavor, sugar, and, surprise, lots of booze.

  But Prohibition killed their business and they ended up in Banshee Creek, Virginia, where they joined a group of enthusiastic bootleggers. Her family, it seemed, was quite adaptable. The local boot-legging community included the Hagen family, and the rest, as they say, is history.

  Having freshened up her knowledge of all things Santelli, Kat was ready to tackle the books Yolanda had sold her, Dreams: Messages From Beyond book, as well as Witchcraft 101: Developing the Skills to Master Your Fate, and Chicken Soup Spells for the Wiccan Soul.

  None looked promising. Witchcraft 101 discussed the four elements—air, fire, water and earth—and how they were used in spells. Messages From Beyond covered Jungian archetypes like the maiden, the mother, and the crone, and how they could be used to interpret omens. Chicken Soup explained how different spells could be used for different purposes. Apparently, you could repurpose an ancient fertility spell to bring money into your life. That book had a big vat of soup with pentagram-shaped noodles on the cover, which did not inspire confidence.

  But there was something else at the bottom of the bag, a battered, cloth-bound book with yellowing pages. It looked like one of those old tomes that the Manhattan decorators used to make their living rooms look intellectual. The threadbare cover had a faded flower pattern and the inside flap had a bookplate that read "Property of the Banshee Creek Library."

  The book was titled The Santelli Sisters' Famous Homemade Remedies, Restoratives, and Tonics.

  Kat placed the shabby tome on the countertop next to a vial labeled "Basic Conjuring Base—New Moon Only—Do Not Refrigerate."

  This was her family. These were her recipes. True, they were probably intoxicating sugary cocktails like the "Miracle Syrup" and "Soothing Nerve Tonic," but who cared?

  This was her heritage.

  She opened the book and read. The introduction was very familiar, as bits and pieces were referenced in the newspaper clippings that were part of her genealogy notes. The Santelli sisters were described as "beautiful" and "exotic," and the book claimed that "ancient Latin wisdom" coupled with "modern brewing techniques" resulted in "time-honored receipts" that addressed the "complaints of modern life." According to the sisters, their "Famous Roman Elixir" was based on an ancient recipe used by Julius Caesar to cure his epilepsy.

  Yeah, right. Julius Caesar, senator, conqueror, and famous drunkard.

  But as she read through the recipes, she began to understand why Yolanda had sold her the introductory witchcraft books. Although the sisters sold their wares as "scientific" cures, the recipes did not look scientific at all.

  They looked like spells. They looked, in fact, a lot like the enchantments in Chicken Soup Spells for the Wiccan Soul.

  The "Famous Italian Elixir" used chamomile extract and sugar water heated until it was "a shimmering topaz," along with an amber-tinged herbal liqueur, to create a brew that would "distill the golden energy of the sun." Was this any different from the "Sunny Beam-O" chamomile tea spell included in the Chicken Soup book? The chamomile tea spell required that the witch do a small incantation while the tea was brewing. The Santelli recipe did not have an invocation, but it recommended a quick read-through of the Bible or the singing of a hymn.

  The "Miracle Syrup" used cinnamon and cloves to cement the user's relationship with the earth and recommended a "brisk walk through the woods" to maximize its restorative qualities. The Chicken Soup equivalent also used cinnamon and cloves, but it asked that the witch go outside and call upon the element directly. The "Soothing Nerve Tonic" used anisette to clear the nervous system and recommended the maker "sing a cheerful ditty" while stirring the pot. The Chicken Soup version understood that some people did not like anisette and allowed the use of peppermint—or, in a pinch, even a Tic-Tac would do—and the recitation of a peppy, Seuss-like chant.

  Maybe the Santelli sisters weren't just snake oil peddlers who got their clients tipsy. Maybe they really were witches.

  She leafed through the book, searching for something that would help her. There was a tonic for coughs and other respiratory ailments, a syrup for lovesickness, a tea for stomachaches, and a milk-based drink for insomnia.

  But there was no Break-Family-Curse-And-Live-Happily-Ever-After spell.

  The closest equivalent she could find was a "Reverse Bad Influences" recipe that required truly frightful amounts of licorice, but that o
ne didn't sound right. This wasn't exactly a bad influence, it was a bona fide malediction. She'd have to do more research.

  Next morning, bright and early, she'd hit the library and see if they had any more information on the mysterious Santelli sisters. For now, though, there was nothing else she could do. Sure, the Witchcraft 101 book indicated that she could modify a spell to fit almost any need, but that sounded a bit too advanced for her. She wanted to explore her heritage, but she needed something more basic for her first spell.

  She decided to try the "Restorative Bathing Water For a Guaranteed Good Night's Sleep." Sure, it was not a snazzy curse-breaking spell, but it seemed like a good start for a novice. And, who knows, maybe it would stop the bad dreams.

  And if it didn't, she could return the books to the botánica and forget all about this magic stuff.

  Kat opened the book and read the instructions. Then she started pouring the ingredients into a bowl. She didn't have to boil or cook. The end result was a type of perfume oil, so it was a simple process compared to the ingestible elixirs.

  Good. She wasn't much of a cook to begin with, and adding a magical element would likely be catastrophic.

  In that sense, the oil was perfect. It was simple to make and easy to use. Once the ingredients were in the bowl, she grabbed a spoon and checked the Santelli sisters' directions. According to the recipe, she should stir the ingredients until well mixed, all the while reciting one of the Psalms.

  She didn't know any Bible verses by heart. But that's where the Witchcraft 101 book came in. That book encouraged its readers to be creative. She lined up the candles around the bowl, lit them, and assessed the tableaux.

  She was starting to feel a little foolish. Mixing up perfume was one thing, but lighting candles?

  That was entirely different.

  She took a breath and grabbed the spoon. Then she started stirring the mixture, focusing on what the books referred to as her "intention." She was mixing rose oil for inspiration, rosemary because she was reaching into the past, and bergamot for power. She was mixing this for...what?