Deadly Spells and a Southern Belle

by Amy Boyles

  I stretched my stiff legs. Pig lay on the floor, scratching her back on the tile.

  “Do you think he knew it was us?” I said.

  “He’ll figure it out if he sees your car,” Mama said.

  “Crap.”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry. I camouflaged it. It now looks like a brand-new shrub was planted. The vampire will never notice.”

  “Thank goodness.” I sighed with relief. “That was close.”

  “Too close,” Rose said. “We’re lucky we got out of that alive. I’m surprised he didn’t keep Pig.”

  I grimaced. “I’m sorry I almost got y’all caught. Got us all thrown in jail, or whatever they have in this town.”

  “It’s called mother-daughter bonding.” Mama winked at me. “Everyone’s safe. We’re fine.”

  “Did you get the shirt?”

  My mother placed a hand on her chest mockingly. “What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t make sure to take the evidence?”

  I grinned. “Let’s see it.”

  She unfurled the ripped shirt and laid it on the table. We circled it, inspecting the specimen. “There’s no blood. It’s like I said, Charming, I don’t think the vampire did it.”

  “Then why would he have it? Langdon wasn’t wearing this when he was murdered. Why would the vampire have the murder victim’s shirt?”

  “He is the police,” Rose commented.

  I shook my head. “Y’all know vampires can’t be the police of witches.”

  “This one is,” Mama said in a clipped voice. “But I don’t think these are claw marks from a vampire.”

  “You said that before,” I said. “What are they if not that?”

  She stared at the shirt and pushed the fabric apart. “This didn’t come from the outside.”

  I hiked a skeptical brow. “Meaning?”

  “She doesn’t think Langdon was attacked,” Rose interpreted.

  “Then what happened if he wasn’t attacked?”

  My mother pinned her lips together in thought. She studied the shirt for another moment before taking a step back and looking over it as if she were perusing a priceless work of art.

  “This man wasn’t attacked. Whatever happened to him came from him. He tore through the shirt himself.”

  “What?” I said in disbelief.

  “Langdon changed into something big and powerful enough that he ripped through the shirt.” Her gaze flickered to me. Sorrow filled her eyes. “I’m sorry to say that whatever changed Langdon also changed your friend, Jimmy.”

  I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Charming,” she said slowly, “this looks like a powerful metamorphosis spell. If Langdon was killed because of it, Jimmy may already be dead as well.”

  FOURTEEN

  The next day my mother magically got my car back from where it had been parked near Thorne's house. I told Mama and Aunt Rose that I was going to Air Town to work on some matches, but I was really going for another purpose.

  “Charming,” Mama said before I walked out the door.

  “Yes?”

  “Where did you get that hideous broom? It looks like something the cat coughed up.”

  “Oh, I got it in Air Town. Belinda gave it to me. Watch out, it spanks.”

  Her brows shot up. “Oh? And did you get Pig in Earth Town?”

  “Yep, another gift.”

  “Do me a favor and stop taking gifts from witches.”

  “Why?”

  She bristled. “Because the next gift from Fire Town will probably be a life-size dragon. The last thing we need is for the house to burn down.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sure thing.”

  I left and headed over to Air Town. Something nudged at the back of my mind—why would my mother be concerned with me receiving gifts from witches?

  Maybe it had something to do with that silly prophecy. I blew a strand of hair from my face. Yeah, right.

  I parked on the outskirts of Air Town and exited the car. I’d finally had enough sense to stop walking around town in heels and had opted for stylish sneakers, capri jeans and a pink gingham shirt.

  I might not be in the city, but I’d be darned if I wasn’t going to look cute. The only thing I lacked was a magnolia blossom to tuck behind my ear.

  Speaking of, the magnolia trees were in full bloom. There were even a few cowcumber trees with beautiful full blossoms similar to magnolias.

  I found Belinda doing goat yoga with a bunch of other witches, and yes, they each had their goats and were performing the moves.

  She saw me and broke away from the group. “Charming, are you here to see me?”

  “Sort of. The first thing I wanted to talk to you about was Cap.”

  Hesitation filled her eyes. “I’m sorry?”

  “Look, I know the two of y’all used to date. I know you broke up, but I believe y’all are supposed to be together.”

  She shook her head. “It’s against the law.”

  Crap. This whole illegal intermingling thing really had a hold on the town. I had to find a way to prove my theory that keeping people apart was what was killing the town. But how?

  “Okay, well, since you won’t be convinced so easily, can you point me to where Langdon Huggins lived?”

  Belinda gave me directions, and I headed off toward Langdon’s. I didn’t exactly know what I was doing, but I figured I should just fake it until I made it.

  I reached the house and knocked on the door. A tall man about thirty with sun streaked and windblown blond hair and wearing Bermuda shorts with no shirt answered.

  “Can I help you?” he said in a surfer-type voice. I nearly rolled my eyes.

  Only in Air Town.

  “Yes sir, my name is Charming Calhoun. I’m with Southern Belles and Spells Matchmakers, and I wanted to speak to you about Langdon.”

  “He was my brother.” The man cocked his brow in suspicion. “Dudette, did you send that dude here? The one who was trying to match Langdon to that Belinda girl?”

  “Yes. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

  He surveyed the landscape behind me and moved aside. “Come in. Watch the mess. I live on pizza.”

  I followed him in. The room was full of all the things air wizards would use—wind chimes, a glass container with a large mouth for trapping wind and even hanging sticks that looked like a type of archaic mobile. I was surprised I didn’t see a surfboard.

  “My name’s Jamison.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  He settled into a chair and motioned for me to do the same. I picked over a few empty pizza boxes and sat on the edge of a chair with a brown stain in the rear.

  “What can I do for you, Miss Calhoun?”

  “I know that my company matched your brother to Belinda.”

  Jamison laughed. “Even I could see that match was wrong. Way wrong. Belinda would never go for the likes of my brother—he drank too much, swore too much. Dude, he was not into the pure life.” Jamison rapped his knuckles on the chair arm. “Let’s just say it wasn’t a good match.”

  “So I’ve learned. Your brother didn’t appear to be your typical air wizard. He was in Earth Town the night he was murdered.”

  Jamison’s mouth set in a grim line. “He went to confront Cap about Belinda. Thought Cap was the reason that Langdon and Belinda weren’t working. That they still had something going on.”

  I clicked my tongue. “But it wasn’t true.”

  Jamison raked his fingers through his stiff hair. “No, not true at all.”

  “Did you notice anything strange about your brother leading up to his murder?”

  His eyes narrowed to steely bolts of lightning. “What do you mean?”

  I shrugged, trying to look as innocent as possible. “Oh, I don’t know…him ripping through his clothes, that sort of thing?”

  Jamison laughed. It was loud and throaty, welcoming. For the first time I noticed his eyes danced with light.

  “Dudette, I didn’t notice any
thing like that, but before your matchmaker guy came along, Langdon was hanging out at night a lot.” He paused and scrubbed a palm down his cheek. “I shouldn’t be telling you this—a stranger.”

  Oh, now I really wanted to know the dirty details. “What is it? Mr. Huggins, I’m trying to help. Where was he hanging out?”

  “He told me,” Jamison said quietly. “But I found it hard to believe.”

  “Where did he say? Please.”

  He pursed his lips a moment before answering. “My bro was hanging out at the tavern.”

  My jaw dropped. “With the vampires?”

  Jamison nodded. “Yep. With the vampires.”

  I thanked Jamison and handed him my card before leaving. “Do you mind doing me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you have a girlfriend or significant other?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “No, ma’am, I sure don’t.”

  “Then would you mind if I matched you?”

  He glanced around nervously. “Will it hurt?”

  I laughed. “No, it doesn’t hurt.”

  “Then no, I guess I don’t mind.”

  I pulled a slip of paper from my folder and held it in front of him. “Place your hand on top.”

  He squinted at me. “It’s not, like, gonna reach out and bite me, is it?”

  “It won’t. Trust me.”

  He cocked a brow. “Just touch it?”

  I nodded cheerfully. “That’s all you have to do.”

  Jamison obeyed, and a moment later words flared on the page. I saw the name on the bottom and the description that she was an air witch.

  Then I brushed my hand over Jamison’s under the guise that I was taking the paper from him.

  A completely different witch appeared in my head. She had fiery red hair and wore clothing that resembled flames.

  “A fire witch,” I murmured.

  “What’s that?” he said.

  I whisked the paper away. “Mr. Huggins, I will be in touch with you. I know who your soul mate is; I just have to find her.”

  Before he could ask another question, I left with more proof that the magical inbreeding in Witch’s Forge needed to stop.

  I arrived at the tavern a few minutes later. Since it was daytime, I figured it was acceptable for me to enter.

  The same bartender from the other night rubbed down glasses.

  “You’re not looking for trouble, are you?” he said.

  “Why? Are you offering it in a glass? Perhaps a shot of trouble to start my day?”

  He extended his hand with a laugh. “Name’s Kirk Glisson.”

  “How do you do? Charming Calhoun.”

  “Can I get you something?”

  “No, but I have some questions for you, if you have time to answer.”

  He winked at me. Was he flirting? I didn’t go for bald men, which Kirk was, but I was certain I could match him with a lady who did.

  He leaned both arms on the table. “What’ve you got?”

  “I heard that Langdon Huggins was hanging out here some. Is that true?”

  Kirk narrowed his eyes. “That’s not the sort of question I expected.”

  I winked. “I like to surprise people. It’s a thing with me.”

  Kirk filled a glass with water and slid it over to me. “So you want to know about Langdon.”

  “Yes. Tell me everything,” I joked, not joked.

  “As a matter of fact he was around one night. Met some fire witches.”

  That was a surprise. “Fire witches?”

  He nodded. “Outside. That’s what I saw. He didn’t come in. No one does—except you.”

  The door opened and wouldn’t you know it, but Thorne the Evil Vampire stood in the frame, his eyes blazing.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” he directed at me.

  I leaned against the bar and batted my lashes at him. “Now you’ve found me. I was just here talking to Kirk. Because, you know, it’s daytime and I can be in the bar and not be run off by a bunch of bloodsucking vampires.”

  He stormed over to me, his eyes shooting flames. “We need to talk,” he seethed.

  So I guess he somehow figured out that I had broken into his house. Rose probably ran and told him. Wouldn’t that just be my luck?

  “Oh? What would you like to talk about?”

  “In my office.” He motioned for me to walk to the back of the bar.

  I didn’t bother hiding my confusion. “Your office?”

  Annoyance filled his voice. “It’s in the back.”

  “Of the bar?”

  He ground his teeth. “Follow me.”

  I followed him to the back and then down a flight of stairs. Thorne opened a steel door, revealing a cavernous space. Red clay walls, burning gas lamps and iron bars all filled the space.

  “What is this?” I said, full of wonder. “Your vampire torture room?”

  “It’s the jail.” He shook his head, perturbed. “And my office.”

  “You have an office down here?” I didn’t bother keeping the surprise from my voice.

  “Yes.” He stopped at an iron gate and unlocked it. Anger flashed in his silver eyes. “And a jail, which we often lock people up in. So that’s why it’s best not to be seen at the tavern at night.”

  I crossed my arms. “Not because a bunch of big bad vampires hang out there?”

  “No. Because for one, your reputation might be at risk and two, because the men are always looking for action at night. You don’t want to give a gang of vampires—”

  “Reason to attack?” I finished for him.

  He scowled and opened the door. “Exactly.” Thorne gestured for me to walk through. I did and waited for him.

  “But I thought you said they don’t feed on witches.”

  “They don’t,” he growled. “My office is here.”

  Thorne opened another door. A desk, a couple of chairs and lots of knickknacks—like at his house—sprinkled the shelves.

  He sat behind the dark oak desk and gestured for me to sit. I felt like I’d been called into the principal’s office.

  I obliged, crossing my legs and staring at him. No way was I going to give the bloodsucker any idea that he had an advantage over me.

  Thorne studied me. I could feel the iciness of his gaze, like pinpricks dancing across my flesh.

  “Did you have fun breaking into my house last night?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He drummed his fingers on the desk. Thorne’s lips coiled into a smirk. “That pig is very cute. Is she yours?”

  “I don’t have a pig.”

  “Do you want to return what you took from me?”

  I hiked a shoulder and met his stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t take anything. I didn’t break into your house.”

  He relaxed into the leather chair. “Aside from the fact that the whole house smelled like you—”

  I reared back. “What do I smell like? And I think it’s really creepy that you go around sniffing people.”

  “First of all,” he said sharply, “I am cursed with a sense of smell that most men would beg for.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Secondly, I don’t go around sniffing people, but most have a particular scent, you included.”

  I winked at him. “You didn’t answer what that scent is.”

  Thorne flexed his fingers. “You smell like fresh dew and lemongrass.”

  “Sexy,” I said sarcastically.

  His jaw flexed. “For your information a natural scent that mimics natural things is better than a fake scent sprayed on that tries to smell like nature. The fake always sours.”

  His gaze snagged on mine, and I felt my heartbeat flutter in my throat.

  “So you’re complimenting me, how nice. Must make you feel good that you can tell the lowly witches that they aren’t just food, they’re individual meals.”

  He slammed a hand on the desk.
“I don’t eat witches in this town.”

  “Oh, but you do in other towns?”

  “Stop twisting my words.”

  “Then stop speaking,” I yelled.

  We silently scowled at each other, both our gazes pinned to the other.

  Thorne spoke first. “I found this in my house.” He plucked something from his pocket and slid it across the table. “Even if I hadn’t recognized your scent, this betrayed you.”

  I peered at what he’d presented—my business card. Dang! It must’ve slipped from my pocket. How stupid I’d been. If I was going to break into people’s houses, I really needed to be better about not leaving evidence behind.

  My cheeks burned. There was no getting out of this. But maybe there was. ”I must’ve given it to you when we first met.”

  He shook his head. “No. You never gave it to me. I, unlike the rest of this town, don’t require your services. I don’t need a matchmaker, thank you very much.”

  “Why? Did you accidentally kill your last wife? Drink her blood?”

  “Stop it! Your anger toward me isn’t going to stop me from throwing you in a cell. You broke the law. I have proof you were in my house, and I’m missing something.”

  I should’ve been afraid. I should’ve been scared for my life. I was alone with a vampire. The last time that had happened hadn’t worked out so well—I’d lived…barely.

  But instead of being afraid, I was angry. This vampire had duped the entire town into thinking he was a good guy. Even though my mother said the shirt had been spelled, Thorne had still kept it, and I was convinced he was keeping things from me about Jimmy.

  “I have the shirt,” I admitted.

  His shoulders relaxed. “Now. Was that so hard?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  I fisted my hands. “My friend is missing.”

  “I’m in the middle of an investigation.”

  “One man is dead. Jimmy might already be dead. What are you doing about it? Sitting in here interrogating me, the one person we both know had nothing to do with it, when you should be out combing the streets.”

  He raked his fingers through the thick waves of his hair. A blond tendril slipped from his dark locks and fell into his eyes. “I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job.”