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

by Ani Gonzalez

  She sighed and opened the door, grabbing the "Help Wanted" as she walked into the shop.

  If you can't beat them...

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "WHERE WERE you?" Liam asked as Kat entered the kitchen with two Banshee Creek Bakery bags and two cups of coffee in a cardboard container. "And why weren't you answering your phone?"

  His tone was harsher than he'd intended, but he couldn't help it. Even the prospect of a caffeine infusion didn't sweeten his mood. Waking up without her had been...unpleasant. On top of that, he'd spent the past two hours wondering where the hell she was. Banshee Creek was small and she didn't know that many people in town. What could she possibly have been doing that would take several hours? He'd come this close to calling the police department.

  At least she was here now. The relief he felt was practically palpable. He wasn't sure what he'd been afraid of—she was probably safer outside the house than in it—but he'd been dreadfully afraid.

  The house was getting to him. That had to be it. But that was ridiculous. After all, the curse had to be broken now.

  "Well, good morning to you too," Kat smiled and gave him a scorching kiss that drove all his fears away.

  Almost.

  "It's almost noon," he grumbled when she tore herself away and headed for the kitchen island. "What were you doing?"

  She rolled her eyes and put the bag and cardboard container on the counter next to the spent Sorceress' Best candle, which he hadn't yet cleaned up.

  "I was foraging for sustenance, which, mind you, was not an easy task." She opened one of the bags. "Look at this."

  She pointed an accusing finger at the contents.

  Liam peeked inside. "They're bagels."

  Sliced and freshly toasted, no less. They smelled delicious, and he suddenly realized that he was starving.

  "They're frozen," Kat hissed, not bothering to disguise her distaste. "I can't believe it. Frozen bagels. Who ever heard of such a thing?"

  "They're not frozen now," Liam answered, taking some paper plates and plastic cutlery out of the bag. "Is there cream cheese?"

  "There's a white spread that goes with them," she muttered. "But I'm not sure you can call it cream cheese."

  He laughed. "Stop being such a snob and bring out the cream cheese. Any bagel is a good bagel."

  She sniffed, clearly disagreeing with his pronouncement, but reached into the second bag and brought out a tub of cream cheese, a packet of sliced salmon, an onion, and a plastic bag with what looked like green slime inside.

  "The pizzeria owner—Zach, I think—found some salmon and capers for me. Apparently they tried a new recipe last week that didn't quite work out."

  Yes, Liam remembered Zach's Erik the Viking Pizza special. It had been an epic failure. Holly had concluded that even Aleksandr Skarsgård couldn't sell smoked salmon pizza with capers on top.

  "So their loss in my gain." She glanced at the bagels. "Anything's palatable if you put enough salmon on it."

  The Poltergeist Pizza clientele would likely disagree with her, but Liam kept that to himself. He put the bagels on the plates and reached for a plastic knife.

  He spread the cheese evenly on the bagels while Kat picked out choice bits of salmon for the meal. "Your bagel hunt took three hours?"

  "No." She popped a piece of salmon in her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. It must have met with her approval because she put the rest of the fish on her plate. "I also got a job."

  He paused, the plastic knife suspended in mid-air. "A what?"

  "It's not a real job." Kat assembled her bagel carefully, rather like an architect intent on crafting a masterpiece from disappointing materials. "I'm going to help Yolanda out at the botánica. She needs help with the Ghost Festival preparations." She beamed at her creation. "And by help, I mean that she needs someone to actually start working on it."

  He tried to hide his relief. "For minimum wage? Last I heard that was all Yolanda could pay."

  "Minimum wage and publicity, plus a place to sell my jewelry. Yolanda's busy with the hair salon, so I have free rein over the store. Well, except for the inventory room, which she said I should stay away from. Apparently, there's some kind of evil spirit in there."

  Ah, yes, the botánica's back room. "I don't think it's evil, just really sad. Yolanda's right. Try to stay away from it."

  Kat nodded. "I have some Asian-themed jewelry pieces in my inventory that I'm going to showcase. Yolanda says that she's had a lot of complaints about her jewelry selection, so, hopefully, I'll find some customers."

  "That sounds like a good opportunity." He wondered if she understood what she was getting into. Banshee Creek tourists were both exacting and fantastically enthusiastic. They could tear her jewelry to shreds because of shoddy symbolism or deplete her inventory in seconds.

  Kat bit on her bagel, unconcerned.

  "And speaking of publicity..." His voice trailed off as he tried to figure out how to tell her. This might not be the kind of attention she was looking for. "Caine is going to film a Hauntings and Hoaxes episode in the house. He will interview us and have us do a tour of the rooms. I think it will help us sell the house"

  Kat chewed on the bagel, looking thoughtful. "That sounds okay. What's the problem?"

  "Who says there's a problem?"

  She snorted. "You do. You sound like you expected me to flip out over this. Spill the beans, Hagen."

  He sighed. "They want to know about the curse."

  Kat frowned. "Doesn't everyone already know about the curse? They did an episode about it last year. I saw it on YouTube when I was researching your, uh, proposal. They had a reenactment and everything."

  "Yes, I remember that." He and Caine had almost come to blows over the graphic scene of Violetta Santelli plunging to her death, her blood splashing over the foyer's marble tiles. That wasn't the kind of virtual tour that sold houses. "They want to know about how we are breaking the curse."

  Kat blinked at him. "By getting married, of course."

  "Yeah, well, they want to know what else we're doing to, you know, make sure."

  Her lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Why, Mr. Hagen, whatever do you mean?"

  He dragged his hand through his hair. This woman was making him crazy. "Like last night. That kind of thing."

  She laughed. "You're such a prude, Liam. We can just tell them that it's none of their business."

  "I don't think PRoVE will be satisfied with that," he grumbled.

  "Don't worry." Her eyes twinkled. "You'll probably blush to the roots of your hair when they ask you, and that will give them the answer they want."

  Now that was definitely unfair. He didn't blush. Did he?

  "But," she added, finishing her bagel, "you're right to be concerned. This was not part of the deal." She looked straight into his eyes. "Which means you owe me."

  A carnal thrill ran through him at her words, which was kind of amazing. He glanced at the spent candle thoughtfully. How had his libido survived last night's exertions? By all rights it should be comatose.

  It wasn't. And Kat's tight little sundress with the short skirt and her strappy sandals didn't help at all. Her hair was pinned up and he could see a pinkish dark spot on her neck where he'd kissed—well, it was more than a kiss—her last night.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  "And I plan to collect."

  He laughed and bit into his bagel. "That's the spirit."

  For the first time since finding Kat gone this morning, he was starting to feel that everything was going to be okay.

  It was a strange feeling.

  The doorbell rang and Kat looked up. "That may be my workshop materials. They said they would deliver the boxes this morning." She grinned and put her food down. "That means I can get some work done."

  She walked out of the kitchen, the sundress swirling around her bare legs. The sight was so distracting that it took him a second to realize where she was going.

  "Hold on," he said, placing his bage
l on the plate and getting up. "Don't go through the—"

  He saw her standing in the hallway staring up at the chandelier.

  "—foyer," he finished lamely.

  "Come here," she said, her voice tight.

  He crossed the darkened hallway and stood behind her. The chandelier, he was relieved to see, was still hanging from the ceiling. The balustrade was in place. The stained-glass sidelights were intact. The design on the stained glass resembled a climbing rose over a trellis, and the morning light turned crimson as it shone through.

  "It's still up," he said. "Which is kind of a record."

  "The chandelier is not the problem," Kat said, an edge to her voice. "Look at the floor."

  He looked. The light streaming in from the windows cast a reddish light over the checkerboard marble floor. The effect was strange, almost like large red drops on the floor. He peered at the red splotches and realized that they were crystals from the chandelier.

  They'd crashed on the floor and smashed into countless jagged pieces.

  He took a breath. "Okay, this is new." His brain instantly shifted into Banshee Creek mode. "We should take some pictures and call PRoVE before we clean up. At least it didn't damage anything."

  Kat shook her head. "Read it, Liam. It's words."

  He examined the glass shards carefully. The pattern looked random at first, but the longer he stared, the more letters he could make out. G-E-T...

  "Get out," Kat said firmly. "The letters spell 'get out.'"

  This wasn't good.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "THE FOLDING tables will be in the front," Kat said, checking off her mental to-do list. "With the red tablecloths on top. I'm going to lay out my jewelry on that, next to the joss sticks and hell money. We'll hang some lanterns and strings of lights on the front windows."

  She looked around the botánica, trying to figure out where to start. After the scary chandelier episode, it was a relief to focus on something mundane like rearranging the botánica displays. Sure, the place had statues of death gods and a full display titled "A Guide To Bad Luck Hexes (Including How To Avoid Them)," but at least no one was using the light fixtures to try to kick her out.

  Fixing the botánica was a sorely-needed distraction.

  A worried frown crossed Liam's face. "Are you sure you want your jewelry out there? People could just take it."

  She grabbed the metal sign on the counter. "Don't worry. I found this in the inventory room."

  The heavy metal sign read "Attention: All Shoplifters Will Be Hexed, Jinxed and Cursed. Bad Luck Will Follow You Home. Curse Removal Fee is $1500. Materials Not Included."

  "Apparently it gets the job done," Kat continued. "I definitely wouldn't rely on a spell to protect my merchandise from theft in the Bronx, but I think Banshee Creek works a little differently."

  Liam grimaced. "Oh, it definitely does. I speak from personal experience. All things considered, I'm going to stay far away from your shoplifting jinx. Today, I'm experiencing curse PTSD."

  She should have known that Liam wouldn't have a sense of humor about the whole "curse" thing. She hid the sign behind an elephant Vanesh statue. Out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind, at least for Liam.

  But not for her. She was thinking about it. She just hadn't come up with any solutions.

  Yet.

  Liam frowned. "You say you found this in the back room? I thought you were supposed to stay away from it."

  "I just popped in to see if there was anything I could use. Don't worry, it was fine."

  The mysterious back room had turned out to be an ordinary, if unusually spacious, closet. It had no windows or doors, but it hadn't struck Kat as scary or creepy. It had a strange air of sadness, but that was it.

  Liam looked around the store, which looked even messier than usual with open boxes and displaced tchotchkes all over the place. "I guess I should get to work."

  He gave her a quick kiss and went to examine the tables. He seemed fairly relaxed right now, unlike earlier in the day. He'd really freaked out after the chandelier incident. He'd immediately called Caine and his crew, so they could come and document the incident. He'd also called Yolanda, who told them that this was normal, just the house resisting the effects of their marriage. Liam hadn't found that very reassuring, so he'd marched Kat out of the house, where she would be safe.

  Probably a good precaution. But Kat hadn't necessarily felt unsafe in the house. She remembered the icy tendril of fear coursing down her spine as she spied the red-tinged crystal shards on the floor, but she also recalled the warm feeling of happiness she'd felt when she'd gone to get the bagels.

  Sure, the glass on the floor had been creepy, but it hadn't been deadly. The place seemed to have a split personality. Sometimes it felt hostile, but other times it felt downright welcoming. Would the real Hagen House please stand up?

  Maybe Yolanda was right and their curse-breaking was working, albeit slowly. The welcoming feeling may be slowly edging out the tragic hatred that tinged the house. The old santera was fond of saying that real magic didn't work like in the movies. Perhaps curse-breaking worked in slow motion.

  Hopefully the PRoVE guys would find something helpful. Caine had promised Liam that he would assign his best guy—the one who came up with the sasquatch vision theories—to the Hagen House case. He'd probably come up with an explanation. Perhaps Violetta Santelli was slowly drifting into a peaceful rest.

  She and Liam had done their best. If the hanky-panky didn't work, she didn't know what else they could do.

  Kat grabbed the price sticker gun and turned toward the counter, where she'd put the boxes of jade and gold Chinese amulets. One by one, she started pricing them, a tedious process that she wanted to finish as quickly as possible. Once Liam was done moving furniture around, the fun would start.

  She had plans for the botánica. The bookshelves that currently blocked the front door would be moved to the sides, creating an open feel that would draw customers inside. Yolanda had installed stronger lightbulbs, and the store no longer looked dingy and dark, but Kat still wanted larger signs for the book sections and a more attractive display for the jewelry.

  It was a lot of work. And the Ghost Festival was almost here.

  Time to get busy.

  She finished with the stickers and made price signs for the earrings and rings that would be displayed in gold and red straw baskets. She frowned at Yolanda's suggested prices and increased them by fifty percent. If people were willing to pay four dollars for a cupcake, they should be willing to pay five times that for a pair of earrings by a New York City designer.

  "The tables are up," Liam reported, walking back into the store. "Where do you want me to move the shelves?"

  "Over to the sides," she replied. "We'll need to get the books out. Then put them back in."

  Liam nodded. "I'm going to swing by the PRoVE headquarters and see if I can get some help. Their staff is hanging decorations and such, but I'm sure they can lend me some guys to move stuff."

  "That would be a lot of help," she replied. "But I don't want to increase Yolanda's costs. Her profit margins are razor thin."

  "Oh, they'll do it for free. She does all of their ritual cleansings, so they owe her big time."

  "Great," she replied, feeling relieved. "Maybe they can move some pieces to the back room. That will give us more open space."

  Yolanda had a lot of large statuary in her shop and it occupied too much floor space. Kat planned to keep the Quan Yin statues, foo dogs, and ki-rins in honor of the festival, but the Aphrodites, Yemanyas, and other assorted figures could go into storage.

  Liam nodded. Then he kissed her again, this time on the cheek, and headed out the door.

  Kat stood perfectly still for a second, then raised her hand to touch her cheek. This kiss was different.

  This kiss wasn't about a magic-fueled midnight rendezvous. This was about working together and doing each other favors and being a couple.

  But they weren't a c
ouple, were they? This was all fake. Well, not the sexytimes, of course, but the rest of it, the marriage and the living together.

  It was all a fantasy.

  Even this place. She glanced around the store, noting the changes she'd already made. She'd already put her mark on this place.

  But it wasn't hers. Heck, it wasn't even a jewelry store. It was a magic store. What was she thinking? She wasn't a witch, for crying out loud.

  Memories popped into her head—the Santelli book, the Sorceress' Best candles, the sweet-smelling oil—but she pushed them away. She was a healthy young woman and Liam was an attractive young man. They'd made love. There was nothing supernatural about that.

  Nothing at all.

  The door chime rang and a tall woman with purple streaks in her dark hair that matched her PRoVE t-shirt walked into the store.

  Kat tensed in alarm, but not because of the woman, who looked friendly and relaxed. What worried Kat was the camera crew that followed her into the store. The word "crew" was probably an exaggeration. It was just two guys, one with a handheld digital camera and another one with the slightly bigger version journalists used. That didn't reassure Kat, though. A camera was a camera, no matter how small. Liam had talked about an interview, but he'd neglected to mention it would happen today. She hadn't even had a chance to get her hair done.

  The woman looked around, beaming. "She put in the new bulbs. That's wonderful. We won't have to film outside now. Can you test the light, Gus?"

  Her companion, a large man with a short white beard and a black leather biker's vest with PRoVE insignia, pushed some buttons on his camera, then pointed it at different spots in the room.

  The purple-haired woman smiled at Kat and stretched out a hand. "Hi, you must be the new bride. I've heard so much about you. I'm Cassie, PRoVE's resident folklorist."

  Kat shook her hand. Notwithstanding her eccentric appearance, Cassie had a firm, professional grip. "I'm Kat Ramos, er, Santelli." She didn't usually use her mother's maiden name, but in Banshee Creek, no one was interested in plain old Kat, jewelry designer.