Eastwind Witches Volume 1: Books 1-3: Paranormal Cozy Mystery

by Nova Nelson

  “I’m glad you’re happy,” I replied.

  “Also, I think we both learned an important lesson today.”

  “And that is?”

  “Donovan is definitely not gay.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Leaving the cover of the Deadwoods, there wasn’t a question in my mind about where I would go next. It was a beacon up ahead, pulling me in with the comforting smell of grease and the flashing Open sign.

  “I’ve never been so thirsty in my life,” Grim groused.

  “Imagine how the hellhounds feel. It’ll be a while before Acher Lake is full again.”

  “Nuh-uh. You’re not gonna make me feel sorry for those dumb slobs. Also, at least there was some water flowing in, even if it was soaking straight into the ground. It’s nice when things actually work out. One heavy rain, and the hounds will be right as … well, right as rain.”

  Donovan had remained twenty or so yards behind on the long walk back, and I tried not to let guilt eat at me for it. He hadn’t pushed me about the lie, though. Maybe he would let it be.

  I should have felt more relieved. I knew that. We’d figured out who had conjured the drought demon, I’d gotten to smack one of the perpetrators in the side of the head, which had felt incredible, and we’d managed to banish—and hopefully free—Ba. Everyone had survived, so no harm done.

  Okay, some harm done.

  The late-night crowd filled almost every booth at Medium Rare when I pulled open the door, letting Grim run ahead of me.

  I shuffled in, bone tired, the spot on my side where Grim had placed the amulet still smarting.

  The place went silent.

  Oh wow. Did I look that bad?

  I scanned the restaurant for him. Bryant was working his regular shift and looked up from his spot behind the counter. That wasn’t who I wanted, though.

  Finally my eyes found him. He stood next to a booth in the corner where Ansel Fontaine and the redheaded dwarf I’d met briefly at Sheehan’s sat together. Whatever conversation they’d been having before I wandered in had stopped short.

  Tanner’s mouth fell open slightly as he rushed forward. “Nora, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  He grabbed my shoulders, holding me steady as he looked me up and down. “You’re covered in blood.”

  Oh right. That. “It’s nothing,” I said lamely. “I’m fine.”

  The bell tinkled behind me, and I didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

  Tanner’s mouth fell open even wider as he stared over my shoulder. “Donovan? What the spell happened? Why are you both covered in blood and dirt?”

  I could already see it, how the gossip would circulate from one town busybody to the next. Nora and Donovan showed up at Medium Rare in the middle of the night looking like they’d just murdered someone with an ax. I heard they were out in the Deadwoods. What were they doing out there? Alone? They’re both single, aren’t they? I have a guess what they were doing.

  I’d give them something else to gossip about then. Something that didn’t require guesswork.

  I grabbed Tanner’s face in my hands, turning it toward me. My lips had hardly found his before he was all in, his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to his warm body. He didn’t mind the blood on my shirt or the mud on my face or the tangles in my hair (caused mostly by his best friends fingers, unfortunately). He simply held me against him and kissed me back.

  It took a lot to shock the late-night crowd at Medium Rare, but this did the trick. Around us were startled reactions from those who hadn’t had a clue, and mixed in with that, Ansel muttering, “’Bout time. Jane’s gonna keel over and die when I tell her what she missed.”

  After a night of danger and uncertainty, of doubting myself, not knowing what I wanted, and almost making the wrong choice, I knew, in a way that was rooted in my bones and my blood, that this was right. This was safe. Tanner was the only choice I could have made, in the end.

  Let him figure me out. I was ready for it. If he thought he was going to get rid of me anytime soon, he was wrong. So very wrong.

  When we came up for air, his eyes were glued to me and full of wonder. Considering the way events had unfolded over the last couple minutes, I couldn’t blame him for being taken aback.

  Then his eyes jumped to Donovan. “Hey, where are you going?”

  My stomach clenched, but I held tightly to Tanner as the bell above the door rang again and I knew Donovan was gone. And not just from Medium Rare.

  “Kiss her again, you idiot!” shouted Hendrix Hardy from the back booth.

  Tanner laughed along with the rest of the restaurant as he stared into my eyes. He was so beautiful with his soft pink lips, his sprinkling of golden facial hair, and hazel eyes that somehow remained honest despite the hardships of his life. And he was mine.

  “Bad news, Nora,” he said. “I think our secret’s out.”

  Relief bubbled up my throat and I laughed, even as my eyes start to water up. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  He cradled my face in his hand, running a thumb across my bottom lip. “I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second you walked through that door four months, three weeks, and six days ago.”

  And when he kissed me next, the applause and cheers from the customers—our friends and neighbors—felt like an earthquake, shaking the foundations of who I used to be, tumbling my ancient walls to the ground.

  Epilogue

  “Thanks for coming with me,” I said, squeezing Tanner’s hand in mine as we made the short walk from Ruby True’s house to the library in the early July sunlight.

  He shot me a sideways glance. “It’s my obligation as your boyfriend.”

  “Not the most exciting of your duties, but I appreciate it all the same.”

  Six days had passed since the encounter with Ba in the unknown realm, and I had yet to tell Tanner much of what had gone on. For one, it involved me making a lot of dangerous and reckless decisions, which I knew he hated. But also, a good portion of it revolved around kissing his best friend in a moment of poor judgment. Okay, two moments of poor judgment.

  I hadn’t seen Donovan since we left the Deadwoods and he’d stormed out of Medium Rare. And that was a huge relief. I needed time to just enjoy Tanner and forget about all the jumbled feelings that had preceded my moment of clarity.

  “I heard there’s this new conveyance in Avalon where you sit inside it and it takes you from point A to point B all while spraying you with cool mist,” said Grim. “I bet the grims there don’t have to hoof it around town all day in the July sun.”

  “From what I’ve heard of Avalon, they probably don’t even let grims into the city. You’ve survived summers before. You can do it again.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s entirely unnecessary for me to go today.”

  “Is not,” I said. “This is official Coven business. You’ll be a member of the Coven with me. Ergo, you need to be here.”

  “It’s not official Coven business. It’s just you meeting with that Bridgewater boy while Tanner plays chaperone.”

  “You don’t think he trusts me with Oliver?”

  “Nope, and for good reason, even if he doesn’t know the specifics.”

  “I thought you said what happened in the Deadwoods stays in the Deadwoods.”

  “I did. And I’m not saying anything. Just making an observation.”

  “I can’t believe you’re trying to shame me after the way I saw Monster cleaning you with her tongue the other day.”

  “You and Mr. Nice Guy clean each other with your tongue every time I turn around. At least my situation was for the sake of hygiene.”

  “Look,” said Tanner, pulling me out of my mindless conversation with Grim. “It’s Donovan.”

  “Speak of the handsome devil,” said Grim.

  My heart thudded rapidly, making breathing difficult as I looked around and spotted him up ahead.

  He had his back to us as he knelt in fresh earth beside none o
ther than Duncan and Tybalt. I’d heard about this arrangement, but as part of purging Donovan from my system, I hadn’t inquired into the specifics.

  “Hey, man!” Tanner shouter as we approached.

  Donovan turned as he stood and a cloud of unreadable emotions passed over his face when his eyes landed on Tanner and then me.

  I quickly let go of Tanner’s hand then realized how awful that was and grabbed it again. He and I weren’t a secret anymore, especially not to Donovan.

  “Hey, Tanner. Nora.”

  “Can’t believe they gave you two doofuses wands,” Tanner said, addressing the teenagers.

  Nodding, Donovan said, “Special circumstances. Trust me, I tried to convince the Coven that if they really wanted to teach them a lesson, they should force them to replant half the greenery in Eastwind by hand, but they insisted it would take too long without wands. And since they’re obviously East Wind witches, I was the best bet to gently guide them off the path of stupidity and make sure they don’t try to conjure up any other gods.”

  “Nice of you to offer,” I said.

  Donovan twisted his head toward me for a second, his expression like a brick wall, before smiling at his best friend again. “I better get back to it. I want them to finish up here in time to start at Whirligig’s today … mostly because I know Ansel won’t be as kind with them as I have to be.”

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Tanner replied. “See ya.”

  “See ya, Tanner.”

  I didn’t bother saying goodbye because it was clear Donovan wanted to pretend I was never there in the first place.

  “Cold-blooded,” said Grim.

  “I probably deserve it.”

  “Not even a little bit. He’s a pretty witch and you’re not perfect. The fact that you exercised poor judgment solely because it felt good makes you far more tolerable in my opinion.”

  “I don’t know whether to be grateful that you support me or offended that you think I’m only tolerable.”

  “For the record, I don’t give a jackalope’s antlers which you settle on. Believe what you want.”

  Oliver was waiting with the paperwork at the table closest to the front doors of the library, and he hurried over as we entered.

  “Hey, Nora. Good to see you alive.” He stopped short of us and shivered when a library ghost walked straight through him. “I heard you were recently covered in blood and who knows what else, so, um, glad you see you’re back to normal.”

  “Yep,” I said. “Me too.”

  “Me too,” added Tanner.

  Oliver addressed Tanner finally. “How’s it going?” The men shook.

  “Pretty well, just thought I’d tag along. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Oliver snuck me a quick glance, and I shrugged an apology. “Yeah, that’s perfectly cool,” he said. “Why don’t you three follow me over here and we can look over the amended agreement from the Coven?”

  As Oliver briefed us on the arrangement, I discovered it was as boring as I’d expected it to be. “Ruby will be your assigned mentor, since, well, there aren’t any other Fifth Wind witches in Eastwind, and I’ll be administering your exams and providing supplemental tutoring on some of the basics for the alternative certification that Ruby has no interest in teaching. All sound good?”

  “Yep. Then what?”

  “Well, as you test out of the various courses that witches are required to take, you’ll be awarded different privileges until—”

  “When do I get to use my wand?”

  He chuckled, mistaking that for a joke, it seemed. But I was serious. “Oh, um. Not for a while.”

  I cringed. “Ooh, yeah, that’s not gonna work for me. Ezra said he’ll have it ready in about a week. Rush delivery after the whole covered-in-blood thing.”

  Oliver leaned forward, head cocked to the side. “Come again? Ezra is making you a custom wand before you’ve started formal Coven-approved schooling? Ezra Ares?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, it’s legal, right?”

  “Technically, yes. But it’s extremely unwise. He should know better. How’d you convince him to do that?” He leaned closer. “Money? You must’ve paid him a fortune.”

  “No,” I said, trying not to be offended. “Ruby asked him to and he did.”

  Oliver’s gently parted lips snapped shut and he sat up straight. “Ah. Yes, that makes sense.”

  “I didn’t realize it was a big deal.”

  “No, it’s probably fine.” Oliver clearly didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and I wasn’t sure why, but I let it go. “As I was saying, once you’ve earned credit for each course, you’ll have to pass the Mancer Trials. Usually, this is right around the time a witch discovers his or her wind, but since you’ve got that down pat, you should be just fine.”

  “What are the Mancer Trials like?”

  He frowned. “I can’t really talk about them.”

  Tanner nodded at me. “I’ll tell you about them later.”

  Oliver’s eyes went wide. “Um, no, you won’t. You know that’s not allowed.”

  Holding up his hands in surrender, Tanner said, “All right, all right. I won’t tell her.” He leaned toward me and whispered, “I totally will.”

  Oliver clearly heard but steadied himself with a deep breath. “Anyway, once you pass the Mancer Trials, you’ll be an official member of the Coven and are free to use your magic as you see fit. Within the legal limits, of course.”

  “You make it sound like so much fun,” I said. I reached for the stack of papers and pulled it toward me, spinning it around so I could read it. “What’s all this?”

  “Terms, conditions, waivers … mostly waivers. That front sheet is your basic registration form with a questionnaire. It’s intended for a much younger applicant, to be fair.”

  I skipped to the middle of the page and read off one of the questions. “Have you ever intentionally engaged in magic prior to applying for Mancer Academy?” I pretended to think about it, squinting at Tanner. “I don’t know. Probably not, right?” I looked suddenly to Oliver. “Does channeling a spirit count?”

  Oliver laughed uncomfortably. “You’re kidding, right?” When I shrugged noncommittally, he deferred to Tanner. “She’s kidding, right?”

  “No, sir. Honest as death, this one.” His warm hand found my knee underneath the table.

  “Do I need to fill this out now?” I asked, staring at the thick stack of paper.

  “If you don’t mind,” replied Oliver. “Then I can take it right back to the Coven and they can start processing it.”

  I looked at the first line of the registration form and wrote my name in the blank.

  “Oh, and before I forget,” Oliver said, reaching into a messenger bag over his shoulder and pulling out a single folded sheet of paper. “I grabbed one of these, too. You usually don’t fill this out until much later, but, well, special circumstances.”

  I grabbed it and laid it flat on the top of the stack. “Familiar registration form.”

  “No way. I’m not going in some database where they can track me.”

  “Where who can track you, Grim? You’re being paranoid.”

  “First name? Grim.” I wrote it in the blank.

  “Not my real name.”

  “It is. You didn’t have a name until I gave you one. That means it’s your real name.”

  “Last name—” I paused, looking to Oliver. “What do people usually put here?”

  He shrugged. “Their own last name.”

  “Hmm …” I narrowed my eyes at Grim. “Grim Ashcroft?”

  “I would rather die again,” he said.

  “Ooh!” I set the pen on the line and wrote Grim’s new last name.

  Tanner leaned over to read. “Grim Goodboy? Hey, that’s perfect!”

  “You did not,” said Grim.

  “I did.”

  Tanner leaned over and scratched behind Grim’s ear, murmuring, “There’s a good boy. Oh, yes, Mr. Goodboy, huh? Who’s a good boy?”

/>   Grim’s eyes rolled back into his skull as he moaned helplessly and pushed his head toward Tanner’s hand for more pressure. “Oh sweet baby jackalope. I’m a good boy. It’s me! Please make it end … Good Gaia, I hope this never ends …”

  Already I was regretting the joke, so I pointedly ignored the weirdness happening next to me and continued scribbling responses on the main questionnaire.

  Just a few hundred more pages to get through, then I was officially going back to school.

  End of book 3

  QUESO DE LOS MUERTOS

  Eastwind Witches 4

  Eastwind’s annual cook-off seems like the ideal place for Nora and Tanner to finally reveal Medium Rare’s top-secret appetizer to the town. But it’s never that simple for Nora, is it?

  Before she knows it, her secret recipe has turned into a recipe for disaster. Ghostly disaster. And she’s the only one qualified to clean up the mess …

  books2read.com/QuesodelosMuertos

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  About the Author

  Nova Nelson grew up on a steady diet of Agatha Christie novels. She loves the mind candy of cozy mysteries and has been weaving paranormal tales since she first learned handwriting. Those two loves meet in her Eastwind Witches series, and it's about time, if she does say so herself.

  When she's not busy writing, she enjoys long walks with her strong-willed dogs and eating breakfast for dinner.

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  Say hello:

  nova@novanelson.com