Twistchapel Witch Cozy Mystery Box Set: Books 1-4 plus Christmas Short

by Alexandria Westbay

  “That was nice of Bridgette to give us the heads up,” I nodded, plopping down in my chair. She probably only did that because I told her I’d let her join us some time. What was I thinking! This stuff turned out to be dangerous more often than not, and she didn’t even have powers to try and stay safe.

  Before I could think of anything else, the phone on my desk rang.

  “Thank you for choosing Foster’s Market, this is Zoey,” I said, picking it up. “How can I help you today?”

  “Hey Zoey, it’s Bridgette.”

  “That was fast,” I laughed.

  “Yes it was,” she laughed. “I called because Jimmy’s little brother is here.”

  “Jake?” I asked.

  “Yeah, him. He said he wanted to talk with you. Should I tell him your busy?”

  “No, no! Go ahead and send him in,” I said, hanging up the phone.

  “Did you say Jake?” asked Bart. “Like, the kid that’s we talked to with Drake yesterday?”

  I smiled over at Bart. “Looks like I was right about yesterday after all. Someone’s coming in to talk with me.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, licking his paw. “We’ll see what happens, I guess.”

  There was a small knock at my door.

  “Come in,” I said, sitting up a little straighter and ruffling some papers around to try and look busy.

  The door opened and Jake popped his head in. “H-Hello, Miss Foster. Is it okay to talk to you some?”

  “I think I can pencil you in,” I smiled, setting the miscellaneous papers off to the side. “I’m always happy to help a leader of tomorrow.”

  “A what?” he asked, confused whether or not he should enter the room.

  “You know, a young person that’s really going to make something of themselves,” I tried.

  Jake stared at me for a moment as I smiled back at him.

  “I think you’re just confusing the kid,” said Bart.

  “So… should I come in?” he asked.

  “Yes, go ahead and take a seat,” I said.

  He smiled and came in, closing the door behind him. He sat down on the couch and looked at the wall behind me.

  “I, uh, really like the decorations,” he struggled. “Very… flowery.”

  “Thanks,” I said. It wasn’t worth explaining. “How can I help you, Jake?”

  “It’s about the stuff yesterday,” he said, playing nervously with his hands.

  “Don’t worry, I promise Detective Drake won’t arrest you guys as long as you stay out of trouble.”

  “It’s not that. I-I know this is going to sound crazy but…”

  He trailed off and burst into tears.

  “That was unexpected,” said Bart.

  I walked over and put my arm around Jake, trying to comfort him. Even though he was doing some wrong things, he was still just a kid. Maybe the pressure and stress was getting to him.

  “It’s okay, Jake,” I said.

  “Thanks… but you won’t believe me,” he said, trying to wipe away his tears.

  “You’d be surprised what I’d believe,” I smiled back. “Give it a shot. I promise I won’t laugh or anything.”

  “Okay well… I… I feel like I’m not in control all the time,” he began.

  Oh.

  “Um, everyone’s bodies change at this point in your life,” I said, looking over at Bart. I wasn’t sure I should be the one to have this talk with Jake. Bart frantically shook his head, eyes wide. “People your age will start going through… changes, which can make it feel like you aren’t in control-”

  “Wha-No!” he said, pushing me away. “I’m not talking about puberty!”

  Oh thank goodness.

  “I was about to leave the room,” shuddered Bart.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Misunderstanding on my part. Please continue.”

  “The graffiti on the library’s wall… I hardly remember doing it,” he began. “Not just that, but all of the times we’ve tagged walls and homes. I don’t even like doing it. Somehow, I just end up there, and the job is already done.”

  “Peer pressure can have that effect sometimes,” I said slowly. “That’s why it’s important that we choose our friends wisely.”

  “It isn’t peer pressure,” he shook his head. “At least, not just peer pressure. We hardly even talk about what we’re going to do next before we’re already doing it. I don’t even remember making the decision to do it. It just kind of… happens. Almost like a spell is being cast on me, or something.”

  I glanced over to Bart, who was listening intently.

  “I’m coming to you because I don’t know who else to talk to about this,” continued Jake. “My parents would just think I’m crazy, or that I’m making it up because I don’t want to get punished. The truth it… I’m scared. I don’t want to do these things, honestly. I just wanna play hockey and hang out with my friends.”

  “How long have you been friends with the others?” I asked.

  “Just a couple of months. We all are freshman at Twistchapel High, so everyone’s from other middle schools.”

  “Would you say the feeling of not being in control started recently?”

  He nodded.

  “Is there a leader in your group, someone that has more sway than the others?”

  “Not really,” he said, thinking it over for a moment. “I guess Sara calls the shots a little more than the rest of us.”

  “She’s a pretty girl,” I noted.

  Jake’s face went flush and he just shrugged in response. Well, looked like going down that path wouldn’t help me get any answers.

  “Is she the one that recommends you guys do the criminal things?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “I know she came across a little hard yesterday to the detective, but she really isn’t like that.”

  “Who recommends spray painting then?”

  “No one really does,” he said, shaking his head. “We all just kind of… end up doing it. I wish I could explain it better, but I can’t.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, trying to think through what was going on.

  “I should probably get home,” said Jake, getting up from the couch.

  “Sure,” I said. “Thanks for coming by and talking with me, Jake. I’m not really sure what’s happening, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks for not thinking I’m crazy, Miss Foster,” said Jake. “I’m really sorry if we end up doing something bad again, and end up in jail. I… I just wanted someone to know that I didn’t mean to do it.”

  “Don’t worry, Jake,” I said, trying to put on a comforting smile. “I’ll check around and see if I can find out what’s going on.”

  Jake nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

  “This sounds like poison or something…” mumbled Bart.

  “That, or a spell,” I added.

  “Not out of the realm of possibility.”

  “Do you know what could be doing that to them? And why something would be targeting children?”

  “I wish I did, but there isn’t anything that I know of that would do something like this,” said Bart, shaking his head. “Maybe a Baba Yaga, but the kids would already be dead.”

  “A baby gaga?”

  “No, a Baba Yaga. They’re kind of hard to explain. They are like witches, except not human, and will sometimes eat kids. Not always evil, but a lot are. They typically hide out in forests though, and the kids are all still alive. Probably not one of them.”

  “Good to know,” I said, mentally adding Baba Yagas to my growing list of paranormal creatures I never wanted to encounter.

  “I hate to say it, but we might need Warren’s help,” said Bart.

  I let out a long sigh. Warren Locke was the probably fake name of a mysterious warlock who had enlisted my help with the previous vampire case. There was something off about him, and he had a knack for bothering Drake. However, he had a lot of contacts in the paranormal world, and would probably be able to he
lp us.

  “I don’t know how to contact him,” I said.

  “Right, but there’s a mutual friend that could probably setup a meeting for us,” said Bart.

  I cringed without meaning to.

  “Not him,” I groaned. “He’s arguably worse than Warren himself!”

  “I agree with you, but… If you really want to help these kids out, it might help to know what you’re dealing with.”

  I hated when he was right.

  “Fine,” I said, pulling out my phone. “I’ll shoot him a text and setup a meeting for tonight.”

  Chapter 6

  Bart and I stood outside of the Faerie’s Dust Tavern, waiting for our contact to show up.

  “What’s taking him so long?” asked Bart. “I want to go inside already.”

  “How do you think I feel?” I asked, arms crossed over my coat and trying not to freeze. It was the coldest it had been so far this year. “You’re lucky that you can’t feel the cold or heat.”

  “Being immaterial does have its occasional perks,” nodded Bart.

  “I’m starting to think this won’t be worth it.”

  “It probably won’t be. You never know, though. Maybe Warren will know something that we don’t, or see it from another angle.”

  I felt a sudden burst of warm air as someone’s breath hit the right side of my neck. I figured this was going to happen. “He’s behind me, breathing creepily, isn’t he?”

  “Bingo,” replied Bart.

  “Hello, my dear,” said the monster, inches away from me.

  “You’re not getting me with that again,” I said. “It’s too predictable. Now if you actually showed up on time for once, maybe that would scare me.”

  Allen the vampire’s teeth shrunk back in and his eyes returned to normal as he took a couple of steps back. He was dressed in a black puffy coat too big for him, matching pants, and a pair of reflective goggles on his head. He looked like he was about to go skiing. “Did you not get my text?”

  “Oh, this?” I asked, holding up my phone and showing it to him.

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “I said to go on in.”

  “How am I supposed to read something that is just a string of emojis?! There’s five winky faces before a door, then a heart, and then nearly a dozen other faces that no one ever uses!”

  “I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious,” shrugged Allen, making for the door. “Can we go in now? It’s super cold out here.”

  I glared after him and followed him inside.

  We walked past the dozen or so wooden tables and moved to the back corner, which was Allen’s usual spot. I looked around at some of the bars patrons as we walked back, noticing a couple of vampires mixed in with some faeries and trolls. Two giants, each with only one eye, were playing cards together on the other side of the room.

  “Cyclops,” whispered Bart. “Friendly enough beings. Get a bad rap from the old Greeks.”

  I nodded my thanks to Bart as the three of us sat down. Immediately, a familiar beautiful woman with a pair of wings floated over our table.

  “Zoey!” cheered Elise, our waitress. “It’s so good to see you again! I’m glad Allen hasn’t manage to scare you off yet.”

  “Not yet,” I smiled back. “How are you?”

  “Can’t complain,” smiled the faerie. “What can I get you three tonight?”

  “Just a water for me,” I said. Maybe I was being boring, but I didn’t feel like experimenting with paranormal beverages quite yet.

  “A bowl of milk, please,” purred Bart, his tail flickering back and forth behind him.

  “And the ‘usual’ for you?” asked Elise, gesturing at Allen.

  “You know me too well,” smiled Allen. “You know, the two of us should really-”

  “Never,” said Elise firmly. Allen looked a bit disheartened but nodded that he understood. “I’ll be back in just a minute!”

  “It was worth a shot, man,” said Bart.

  “She’ll come around one day,” shrugged the vampire.

  I didn’t really want to talk to Allen about his love life, or lack thereof, so I figured I might as well cut to the chase.

  “We need to talk with Warren about a potential paranormal issue in town,” I began.

  “No can do,” said Allen, shaking his head. “He’s still in the Other, waiting to collect his bounty for the last case.”

  I was afraid of that. It looked like this was going to be a waste of time, just like I thought.

  “How long will he be gone?” I asked.

  “Should just be a few weeks,” shrugged Allen. “Normally doesn’t take much longer than that.”

  “That’ll be too long,” I groaned. “We could’ve really used his help immediately.”

  “Well, we tried,” shrugged Bart.

  “Maybe I can be of some help?” asked Allen with a wide smile. “The vampires are indebted to you, and I’d love to help if I can.”

  “That’s okay,” I said quickly.

  “Come on! What could it hurt? We already ordered our drinks and have to wait here anyway.”

  I sighed and tapped my nails against the table. I guess it was worth a shot.

  “A group of teenagers have been committing a bunch of small crimes around Twistchapel,” I said.

  “Oh, well that’s got to be paranormal,” smirked Allen. “No one has ever heard of teenagers causing a problem before.”

  “Obviously there’s more to it than that,” I said. “They’ve been escalating in the types of crimes they’re committing, and were recently caught on camera spraying graffiti on the library’s wall.”

  “So… case closed?”

  “Not quite. The librarian wants to give them a second chance, so I went along with the town’s detective to talk with the kids. He warned them not to do it again, and seemed to scare them pretty well. I offered to talk with any of them if they’d like, and earlier today a boy named Jake took me up on it. He said that he doesn’t want to be doing these things, and that every time he does, he can’t remember getting there or doing the act.”

  Allen nodded for me to continue, now a bit more interested.

  “He even said that he felt like a spell was being cast on him or something, and that no one would believe him. He’s worried that it’s going to happen again to him, and then he’ll end up in jail. They’re all freshman in high school, so they all came from different middle schools. They recently became friends, which makes me think it’s possible one or more of them is the one casting spells, or maybe paranormal.”

  “Hmm… interesting. Sounds freaky to me,” nodded Allen again.

  “Do you know what it could be?”

  “There are a few options, but I can’t really narrow it down just based on what you said. Has there been anything else happening? Maybe some small things you aren’t paying much attention to?”

  “I don’t think so…” I said, thinking over the past couple of days. “I mean, there’s something a little odd going on with our soup cans at the store.”

  “I don’t think that’s anything,” said Bart. “Probably just a coincidence.”

  “Tell me,” said Allen.

  “Not much to tell, to be honest,” I shrugged. “Product seems to be randomly knocked over in our canned goods section at my store. Nothings ever broken or dented too badly, it’s just all knocked over.”

  “Aha!” exclaimed Allen, pounding his fist on the table. “It’s got to be a pixie!”

  “Of course,” said Bart, slapping his forehead with his paw. “I should’ve guessed that. I haven’t dealt with a pixie in ages…”

  “Pixies? Like, fun little sprites?” I asked.

  “That’s how they’re portrayed on TV, but they typically have a mean streak,” said Bart. “I could see it maybe being a pixie…”

  “Pixies love mischief and having fun, which usually leads to them causing minor annoyances,” explained Allen. “Knocking over cans every few days is a very pixie thing to do, as is some of those small
er crimes you mentioned. Pixies can use magic to highly influence people, typically children and the elderly. This one sounds like it’s bad news if it is making them actively do things they wouldn’t normally want to do. The typically won’t do that. They can change shape, and become so tiny that you can hardly see them at all.”

  Our faerie waitress came back with our drinks.

  “We’ve got a water, a bowl of milk, and one ‘usual,’” smiled Elise, placing them down in front of us. Allen’s ‘usual’ was a cup of blood. Cow, not human.

  “I bet Elise just loves pixies, don’t you?” said Allen, smiling up at the waitress.

  “Ugh, of course not,” she said, a look of pure disgust on her face as she floated away.

  That seemed odd to me, as I always thought pixies and faeries were basically the same thing.

  “Faeries hate pixies,” laughed Allen, taking a sip from his drink. “They’re often confused as the same thing, which really gets on their nerves.”

  “Who would do such a thing…” I chuckled guiltily, taking a sip of my water.

  “Definitely not you,” said Bart in between laps of milk.

  It could be impossible to find this pixie if it was just flying around town, causing annoyances at random times. I wonder if it was causing other kids around town to act out too.

  “Do you think it’s possible that all of Jake’s new friends are pixies?” I asked.

  “Sure, it’s possible,” shrugged Allen. “Some of the weaker pixies will travel as a group, although the stronger ones usually act alone. It only takes one to influence a group of kids, though.”

  “Good to know,” I said, thinking it over. It would be easier if only one of them was a pixie, but that would mean they were stronger. “Is there a way to send a pixie away? Maybe banish them or something?”

  “I can teach you a spell to hold one in place,” offered Bart. “Once they are exposed, they usually will get out of there as fast as possible. They are very fast, so stopping one might come in handy. It’ll also stop them from changing shape. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to banish one back to the Other completely.”

  “Thanks, that’ll be helpful,” I said.

  “I’ll check around with my contacts,” said Allen. “There’s probably a scroll around that could banish a pixie.”