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

by Ani Gonzalez

  She pushed the torch forward, millimeter by millimeter, the ring on her finger reflecting the light of the flame. She pictured her wedding, the PRoVE-approved bouquet, the eccentric reception at the Chinese restaurant, the beautiful antique ring Liam had given her. It had all seemed strange at the time, but now she remembered it as sweet and perfect.

  Violetta Santelli never had a wedding. She dressed up in a light gray dress, her finest attire, and pinned up her hair, and waited for her lover to show up for their elopement. But she didn't know that her sister had lied to her brothers and sent them to the local bar to kill their business partner. She didn't find out until Giulia cornered her on the stair landing and gleefully shared the news.

  Right before pushing her over the balustrade. The image in the reddish glass under her hands was Giulia's face as she watched her sister bleed her life away on the marble floor.

  But Kat Ramos wouldn't suffer the same fate. Violetta never got to wear William Hagen's ring, but Kat did.

  With one final surge of willpower, Kat lit the fifth and final candle. She watched in triumph as the flame spread through the wick.

  The cold wind died down. The lights in the house dimmed. The chandelier stood still.

  She looked down. The glassy red substance was gone. There was only a piece of transparent paper covered in salt.

  Her pants were spotless.

  It was over. She'd won.

  But there was no joyful feeling of triumph. She felt tired and sad. She should get up and clean the salt before Liam got home, but she was too drained. Taking a nap on the cold marble floor was actually a tempting prospect.

  She jumped as the front door opened with a bang.

  "Kat!" Liam ran to her.

  She smiled. But her relief turned to alarm as Liam grabbed her arms and pulled her roughly to her feet.

  "Move," he growled, pushing her toward a wall.

  She watched in horror as the chandelier plunged to the floor, smashing into a thousand pieces. The crash echoed through the house. Cracked crystals slid on the marble tiles, hitting the walls like a hail of bullets.

  Then the noise was gone, and a deep silence swept into the room. A silence broken only by the steady beeping of her phone alarm.

  Yolanda entered the house, her pink glasses askew. She looked around the marbled foyer, noting the shattered glass on the floor and the bloody streaks on the floor. Her face was dark and serious.

  "The full moon has risen," she intoned in a deep, sonorous voice, very different from her normal chirpy tones. "The Ghost Festival had begun."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  "THAT'S IT," Liam said between bites of Ghost Pepper Lo Mein, eaten straight out of a takeout box. "That chandelier is going straight into the dumpster. I don't care what the decorator says. I'm installing pot lights."

  Kat grabbed another Spring Kirin Roll and cuddled closer. They were sitting on a purple blanket adorned with the PRoVE yellow-eye logo. Another blanket lay over them. It was a warm August night, but, somehow, she couldn't get the chill out of her bones.

  She'd broken the Hagen House curse. It would take her a few days to recover from that.

  In spite of the recent unpleasantness, it was a perfect evening. The full moon was high in the sky and they were having a Chinese food picnic next to the creek. Caine and his team had finished their platform. They'd put up a gold pergola with Asian detailing and hung up bright red lanterns on the beams.

  It looked beautiful. Caine had drawn good-luck characters on the pergola and two papier-mâché foo dogs flanked the platform, protecting them from evil spirits.

  Amy Chan stood in front of the platform, smiling happily as the Space Cowboys finished their rehearsal. Abby Reed, their lead singer, balanced on a spindly stool next to their guest performer, an elegant Chinese lady playing an elongated string instrument. They were playing "The Wandering Songstress." The melancholy melody had been translated and modernized and the new lyrics echoed through the glade.

  Missing him, I will not rest

  True love endures all suffering

  A girl to her man is like thread to a needle

  Ah, my beautiful man

  We are like a threaded needle

  Never to be separated.

  The townsfolk were gathered around the stage, sitting on picnic blankets and foldable chairs. Abby's husband, Mike, stood nearby, fielding congratulations. Apparently, Abby and Mike had just had twins and Caine was planning them a belated baby shower. Kat wondered what a PRoVE baby shower would look like. Loch Ness monster onesies? Megalodon stuffed dolls? Yolanda held court across the lawn in a bubblegum pink contraption, surrounded by worshipful admirers eager to know all the details about how the famous Hagen House curse had been broken.

  Better her than me, Kat thought, leaning against Liam.

  "We're keeping the chandelier, don't be silly," she murmured, enjoying the feel of his warm body against hers. "It will be fine now."

  He frowned at her. "You sound pretty certain of that. How do you know?"

  She finished her spring roll and shrugged. "I just know."

  Giulia was gone. Their wedding hadn't broken the curse after all, but the Chinese Ghost Festival had given them the opportunity to send a damned soul where it belonged. There was nothing in it and they could stay in the house and fill it with joyful memories.

  Or they could sell it. That was also a possibility.

  He shook his head. "I still can't believe there was something there. I never really felt it, you know."

  She nodded. Jealous Giulia had struck down every Hagen heir who'd dared to occupy the mansion as revenge against the man who'd spurned her in favor of her sister, but she hadn't hurt Liam, who was young and attractive and looked so much like his ancestor William Hagen.

  She grabbed his hand. "I know. Don't worry. It's not there anymore."

  He nodded, still looking solemn. "I guess we can sell the house now."

  "Yes," she replied in a quiet voice. "We can."

  She was going to say more, but the band finished playing and the assembled crowd broke into applause. Caine and Amy climbed on the stage and everyone started cheering. Caine bowed theatrically and Amy rolled her eyes.

  "Welcome to the dress rehearsal, guys." The burly biker scanned the crowd. "We'll keep this short since we all have a long day tomorrow. First, I want to thank you all for pitching in and helping us organize the festival. We've had massive support and the festival will, I'm sure, be a huge success."

  Amy cleared her throat. "We particularly want to thank the Banshee Creek Botánica for going above and beyond the call of duty in supporting the festival. Kat and Yolanda refurbished the store and brought in new merchandise, which is already a big hit with our visitors."

  The crowd cheered and clapped. Kat waved to acknowledge their support. Yolanda stood up and bowed several times as the crowd hooted and hollered.

  Amy kept talking, praising the pizzeria and the bakery for their new dishes. Kat stopped paying attention, though, because Liam's arms tightened around her.

  "Or we could keep the house," he whispered. "And live in it."

  The words hung in the air, pregnant with promise. She looked down at her ring, the tiny diamond chip glinting cheerfully.

  It belonged to her. She didn't want to give it back.

  She didn't want a sleek, modern store in Soho. She wanted the botánica. She didn't want to go back to New York. She wanted to stay.

  In her house.

  Caine and Amy finished their speech by thanking the Banshee Creek Fire & Rescue Team, and the fire chief, standing a few feet away, nodded his acknowledgment.

  "Now, let's open up the festival," Amy shouted.

  Caine grabbed a lantern, lit the fuel cell with a torch, and released it into the air. Amy started a chant in Mandarin and the PRoVE folks quickly joined in. Kat didn't understand the words, but, still, a peaceful feeling enveloped her.

  She smiled as the flickering light of the lantern rose into the dark sky. It
bobbed up and down in the breeze. For a second, it seemed like the wind would put out the flame, consigning the lantern to an ignominious demise, but the lantern held, and it floated up into the sky.

  Lost spirits going back home.

  Kat took a deep breath. It was over, there might be other ghosts in Banshee Creek — hundreds of them — but there wasn't a ghost, or a curse, in the Hagen House anymore.

  "We can live in the house," she whispered. "As long as you fix the chandelier."

  Liam turned, his eyes wide with hope and surprise.

  She giggled. "I'm serious. It wouldn't be the Hagen House without it."

  He laughed, then grabbed her and kissed her. The warmth of his lips swept away the last remnants of Giulia's supernatural chill.

  The crowd clapped and they broke the kiss and looked around. A veritable army of red lanterns floated up into the air, fiery sparks trailing in their wake. The full moon shone down, its beams making the creek glisten. She held on tight to her husband as the crowd chanted in Mandarin, wishing the ghosts peace and tranquility.

  Be at peace, Violetta. Be at peace, William.

  "Welcome to Banshee Creek's First Ghost Festival," Caine roared.

  EPILOGUE

  VIOLETTA Santelli looked out the window at the glowing lanterns streaking across the night sky. She'd seen many strange things in the years she'd been trapped inside the Hagen House—flying machines soaring through the clouds, dark mirrors with images that talked to you, growling metal creatures that dug through the grounds—but she'd never seen this.

  It was beautiful.

  It was also a signal, or so the young man in the splotchy clothes had said. She hadn't believed him at first. The dead, she knew, often spoke nonsense, particularly the ones who'd suffered traumatic deaths. But this Cole Hunt person had seemed so certain, she'd found herself trusting him.

  And her trust had been well placed. All had occurred exactly as he'd promised. The young girl—Violetta's grand-niece, or maybe great-grandniece? It was so hard to keep track of things sometimes—had arrived and set things right. Giulia was gone, the chandelier was destroyed, and the house was at peace.

  And Violetta was, at long last, free.

  She floated to the door, bracing herself. She'd tried to do this many times, desperate to escape the house and her sister's influence, but it had never worked. The house where she'd hoped to live as a cherished bride had become her eternal prison.

  But her sister was gone now, and tonight the dead could walk the streets. Cole had told her so.

  She steeled herself, closed her eyes, and stepped forward.

  Nothing. No pain, no obstruction.

  She opened her eyes and found herself outside in the front yard. The stars twinkled in the sky and the moonlight shone down, casting the house in a silvery glow.

  Violetta laughed, ghostly tears streaming down her face for the first time in more than a hundred years.

  She was free.

  She walked down the street, marveling at the decorations, red signs and lanterns full of meaning and power. She felt stronger as she walked down Main Street, the strange symbols written on the alien-looking red flags giving her added power. She passed the town hall and the stores, then paused in front of the library, trying to reorient herself.

  There were so many new buildings—the town had changed so much—it was difficult to figure out where things were. She was looking for a bar in what had been the bad side of town, a run-down alley with wood buildings that looked like they would fall down at any moment.

  But the alley no longer seemed to exist. She looked around, trying to make sense of her surroundings, but it was no use.

  She was lost.

  "Look, Mommy." A little boy ran down the library steps and pointed at her. "It's a witch, a ghost witch."

  His mother, the petite woman who was locking down the library doors, looked back at him and frowned. "Don't be silly, Ben. There's no one there."

  Violetta stared into the little boy's brown eyes and regained her self-control. The little moppet was right. She was a witch.

  And witches were never lost.

  You can see me? she asked the little boy.

  He nodded. "You're very pretty. Just like my mom."

  Thanks. I'm looking for a place. Can you help me?

  He nodded again. "I'm really good at finding things. I found Mommy's phone under the sofa. And I know every building in Banshee Creek. I built a map of the town with every single house and store. I even did the PRoVE house, which took me a whole week."

  Violetta didn't know what the boy meant by phone or PRoVE, but smiled anyway. The child knew the town and that was all she needed.

  Good boy. I'm looking for the Blackbird Tavern. Do you know where that is?

  She waited expectantly, but the little boy only looked confused.

  He shook his head. "I don't know."

  Her shoulders sagged with disappointment. How was she going to—

  "Mommy," the boy called out. "Why am I missing the Blackbird Tavern? It's not on my map."

  The child's mother was now climbing down the steps. She frowned at her son. "The tavern? Sure you have it, honey. It's now the botánica. Uncle Liam built it with you, remember?"

  The boy's face lit up. He pointed down the street.

  "That way and to the right," he told Violetta. "You can't miss it."

  Violetta smiled and headed down the street. The boy's mother looked at him strangely.

  "Who are you talking to?" she asked.

  But Violetta was already gone. She flew down the street, peering at the unfamiliar buildings. She saw a restaurant and a bakery, but she didn't see a drinking establishment.

  Then, there it was. It wasn't a plant shop or a florist, like she'd expected. It was a store.

  And a ghost was standing in front, a young man in strange clothing. She wasn't familiar with modern-day uniforms, but somehow she knew he was wearing military wear.

  "About time you got here," Cole Hunt scolded. "It's almost midnight."

  Violetta smiled. "The witching hour."

  Cole aimed a thumb at the store. "He's waiting for you in the back room. He's not very strong. I was hoping that the festival would help with that, but he had no magical heritage." He shrugged. "We do what we can."

  Violetta's smile did not waver. "I'll take care of that."

  Cole nodded. "Yes, you can. And afterwards, don't forget our deal."

  She shook her head. "I'll remember." She glanced at the magical sigils in the botánica's storefront. "I expect I'll find all the supplies here."

  She'd been skeptical about Cole's plan, which sounded ridiculously convoluted, but that was in the past. Now, she was just excited.

  And a little scared.

  "Um, how do I look?" she asked.

  Cole rolled his eyes, "Does it matter?"

  She glared at him and he sighed.

  "You look like someone who fell off a stair landing, crashed onto a marble floor, then spent a hundred years trying to keep her harpy sister from killing more people," he answered. "And I look like I hit the bargain end of a Taliban IED. That's just how it is."

  "Oh." She couldn't hide her disappointment. She'd hoped to look a bit more like herself.

  Cole's gaze turned kind. "You can fix that by gathering up your energy and concentrating on projecting the image you want." He paused. "He won't care, you know. He's in pretty bad shape too."

  A rush of anger flashed through her. She'd spent decades trying not to picture William's suffering, but her sister's words still echoed through her mind. Stabbed...beaten...left to die.

  "Well, good luck." Cole waved her toward the store. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Ghost Festival to attend to." His face grew wistful. "I'm looking forward to hearing Abby sing again."

  And, with a flash, he was gone.

  Violetta noted the empty space with some irritation. Even though she was a powerful witch and he was a mere fledgling ghost, Cole seemed to have much more power t
han she. Strange.

  She was going to have to fix that too.

  But that would have to wait. She focused her energy and floated through the door of the botánica. She was a Santelli witch and nothing would keep her away from her love.

  Nothing.

  PROVE CLASSIFIEDS - Help Wanted

  Soothsayer Wanted for Tarot and Horoscope readings. Briscas knowledge is required. Chinese Horoscope is a plus. Flexible hours and healthy tips. Housing (slightly haunted) can be negotiated. Contact Kat Ramos at the Banshee Creek Botánica at exorcismsareextra@gmail.com.

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Copyright © April 2016, Ani Gonzalez

  Cover Art by Ani Gonzalez © April 2016

  Copy Edited by EBookEditingPro

  Produced in U.S.A.

  Published by Ani Gonzalez

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  Elkhart, Indiana 46514

  http://www.AniGonzalez.com

  Here Comes The Witch is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any from or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without permission in writing from the author.