Magic & Mystery (Starry Hollow Witches Book 2)

by Annabel Chase

  He rubbed his hands together. “What’s not to love?” He leaned forward. “Unless you’re after the gold. Then I’ll need to use my fangs as a warning to you.”

  “I’m not after your gold,” I assured him, “but I’d like to know more about it.”

  He straightened and poured himself a shot. Then he smacked his lips together and prepared to speak. “Once upon a time…”

  “It’s a fairy tale?” I asked. “I thought it was a history lesson.”

  He pointed a long, yellow fingernail at me. “Don’t interrupt, witch. It’s not a fairy tale, but I like to start the story that way.”

  “Sorry. Please go on,” I said. I straightened in my seat and zipped my lip.

  “Once upon a time, there was a grand ship called the Ancient Mariner. They sailed from port to port, the good captain and his crew, until the night a vicious storm rolled across the sea and dragged the Ancient Mariner on to the shore of a strange island.”

  “Manhattan?” I quipped.

  He gave me the stink eye before continuing. “The island was full of creatures that looked and talked like humans, except for their noticeable fangs and their insatiable taste for blood.”

  I gulped. “Long Island then?”

  Bittersteel gave me a threatening look and I backed down. I didn’t trust that beak.

  “The captain and his crew were kept as vampire slaves for many years before they were finally turned. That’s when the good captain exacted his revenge. He murdered every vampire on the island, save his crew, and returned to the high seas on the Ancient Mariner as a vampire pirate.”

  “That’s Captain Blackfang?” I asked.

  “Aye,” Captain Yellowjacket said. “He sailed at night until he found a witch in Greece willing to charm the ship, so that he and his crew could travel in sunlight.”

  “And that’s when they became feared and revered?” I asked.

  “They plundered countless towns along the coast, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Captain Blackfang gained a reputation as the most fearsome vampire pirate that ever lived and died and lived again. Legend has it they arrived in the dead of night on the shores of Starry Hollow and hid their treasures in various places around the town before heading back to sea a few days later.”

  “But they haven’t come back?” I asked.

  Captain Yellowjacket shook his head. “No one is brave enough to seek the treasure, in case one day Captain Blackfang returns to claim it. There’s even talk of vials of enchanted blood that would give the gift of immortality without the need for vampirism.”

  “That would be worth a fortune,” I said.

  “Aye,” Captain Yellowjacket said. “It certainly would.”

  “I guess that’s why the tourist board doesn’t use the story to promote the town,” I said. “They’re afraid of being swarmed by treasure hunters.”

  “Tourists learn the story when they come,” Linnea said, “but it’s not a story we exploit.”

  “I thought there was gold under the Whitethorn,” I said.

  The captain shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?”

  “So how are you a direct descendant?” I asked.

  “His last visit to Starry Hollow was a few days,” he replied. “Long enough to meet a lovely vampire lass called Marla and leave her with a precious treasure of her own.”

  My eyes widened. “You’re actually his son?”

  “I am,” he said, puffing out his chest.

  “So is Marla still around?” I asked.

  “She moved to a paranormal town outside Boca Raton about ten years ago,” he said. “She’s partial to the climate there.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Linnea grumbled.

  My head jerked toward my cousin. “What’s the matter?”

  “Darling ex-wife, what brings your sweet lips to my watering hole?” Wyatt Nash sauntered up to the bar, looking like his usual sexy werewolf self in a tight gray T-shirt and dark jeans. He was about two inches shorter than his brother, but wore his brown hair about two inches longer.

  “They’re all your watering holes,” she replied crisply. “If I tried to avoid the places you drank, I’d be limited to my own kitchen.” She paused. “No, wait. You drink there, too, even when I’ve asked you to stop.”

  Wyatt draped an arm across her shoulders and she tried to shake him off.

  “Wyatt, I can smell the ale on your breath. Please take your hand off me or you know what will happen.”

  He grinned at her. “You know I like it when you play rough.”

  Linnea’s jaw tightened. “Wyatt Nash, I’m warning you right now. Remove that grubby paw from my shoulder or I’ll do it for you.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “By the gods, I love it when you boss me around. Sometimes when I’m alone in bed at night…”

  She snorted. “That’s a lie right there. You’re never alone in bed.”

  “Don’t be jealous, my beautiful rose. You know I only have eyes for you.”

  As he leaned in to plant a kiss her cheek, Linnea reacted. With the flick of her wrist, Wyatt’s face jerked backward and his body went sailing across the room. Amazingly, he landed on his feet, completely balanced.

  “Stupid werewolf genes,” she muttered.

  Wyatt’s grin only broadened. “You know I still love you, Linnea,” he yelled.

  “You have a funny way of showing it,” she called back, before turning her attention back to her cocktail. “Sorry about that, Ember.”

  “Don’t apologize to me,” I said. “I’m sorry he torments you.”

  She offered a vague smile. “I admit, sometimes I find it more irresistible than I should.”

  “Makes sense to me. You loved him.”

  “Still do, if I’m being honest,” she said. “But I know it will never work between us. I need a faithful man and Wyatt isn’t programmed for fidelity.”

  “Because of the werewolf genes?” I asked.

  She examined me. “Why? You worried about Granger?”

  “What? No, of course not.” I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. “I was curious about werewolves in general.”

  She ignored my protest. “Listen, Granger Nash is as wonderful as they come. If I’d been a smart witch, I’d have fallen in love with him instead.”

  Her comment reminded me of a question I’d been meaning to ask her. “Do you know the history between Alec Hale and the sheriff? Why do they despise each other so much?”

  Linnea sucked in a breath. “Those two have never been friendly. There’s unspoken competition between them.”

  “Because of the usual tension between werewolves and vampires?” I queried.

  She shook her head. “No, it’s more than that with those two. Wyatt told me once that they’d fought over a woman.”

  Ah. That explained a lot. “Any clue who she is?”

  “All I remember is that she left town a few years ago with a centaur. Rode off into the sunset on his back.”

  “Ouch.” I winced. “So they both lost out to a centaur?”

  “Apparently.” Linnea finished her drink. “Ready for another one?”

  “Just one more,” I said. “I have my first official psychic skills class tomorrow, so I need to be sharp. The assessment left me practically comatose.” I couldn’t imagine what effect the class itself would have.

  “At least you have potential in several areas,” Linnea said. “That’s exciting. We could use a telepath in the family, if for no other reason than to know what Mother is really thinking.”

  I shuddered at the idea of eavesdropping on Aunt Hyacinth’s thoughts. What if I accidentally forged a psychic link with Simon?

  “I don’t think anyone should shoulder that burden alone,” I said.

  Linnea laughed. “You’re too right.”

  Chapter 9

  For my first official psychic skills lesson, Marigold accompanied me into the woods behind Rose Cottage.

  “Should I be leaving a trail of breadcrumbs?” I
asked. I ducked my head to avoid the Spanish moss hanging from a low branch. “Are you leading me to a gingerbread house or something?”

  Marigold stepped over a wayward branch and stopped in the middle of a small clearing. “The woodland creatures would eat the breadcrumbs. You’d need to use ribbons on tree branches or something indigestible.”

  “If I ever get lost in the forest, I hope it’s with you,” I said.

  "I think it's best to practice something like telekinesis in the great outdoors."

  “You mean isolated in the woods so that I don't hurt anyone," I said.

  "That may also play a role," Marigold replied primly.

  I wasn't offended, although I doubted I could do much damage when I could barely shift a feather more than an inch.

  "The woods are so different here," I observed. Although I hadn’t spent much time in the woods in New Jersey, Starry Hollow had trees and shrubs I’d never seen before.

  "Some of what you see here is the result of being in a paranormal town," Marigold explained. "Other bits, like the Spanish moss and the live oaks, are because you’re in the South. They don't grow up north. They like a hot, humid climate."

  “My father talked about live oaks,” I said. “For someone who lived in suburban sprawl, he knew a lot of stories about trees.”

  “As any good wizard does,” Marigold said.

  I’d never questioned his knowledge. He was a fountain of random information. I realized too late that I should have paid closer attention. Asked more questions. I felt like I’d squandered my limited time with him.

  “So all these berries that I haven't heard of, like burstberries,” I said. "They’re magical fruits?"

  Marigold nodded. "There are many things here that aren’t available in the human world."

  I was surprised some enterprising paranormal or human hadn’t found a way to make money on a magical black market.

  "Okay, so what's my first lesson?" I asked. “Complete deforestation?”

  “That would be both ridiculous and not environmentally friendly,” Marigold said. “Silver Moon witches get their magical energy from Nature. It would be self-destruction.”

  Good to know.

  Marigold surveyed the area. "We'll start small. I'd like to see you move that leaf." She pointed to a hand-shaped leaf on the ground in front of me.

  "How will we know if I moved it or if the wind did it?" I asked.

  “If you’re good enough, eventually, you'll get to the point where the wind did it because you controlled the wind," she said.

  As crazy as it sounded, I knew it was possible. After all, the whole reason I was here now was because I’d managed to make it rain in order to save my life.

  "So I need to focus my will on the leaf, right?" I asked.

  "That's right," she said. "Pour all your concentration and focus into that single leaf. Will it to move. It's best to open your eyes when you do so."

  "I thought closing my eyes would help minimize distractions," I said.

  "That's why we're out here in the woods," Marigold said. "There's no dog or modern amenities to draw your attention."

  Fair enough. I plopped on the ground in front of the leaf and stared. I felt ridiculous and I wondered what Hilda would say if she could see me now, sitting in the dirt and making crazy eyes at a leaf.

  I wasn't sure how long to give it before I decided the effort was a failure. The longer I concentrated, the longer the leaf remained unmoving. In fact, it seemed like the wind had died down just to spite me.

  After a few minutes, I glanced up at Marigold. "Keep going?"

  "Keep going," she agreed.

  “What on earth?” I noticed that she was fiddling with a familiar object. "Are you playing with a Rubik's Cube?"

  "Yes," she said, brightening. "Have you ever done one of these?"

  "Definitely," I said. "My father was a huge fan of the 80s. Music, television, toys like that one.”

  Marigold continued moving the puzzle around, trying to complete the yellow side. "I find it soothing when I want to keep my mind occupied."

  "Where did you get it?" I asked.

  “The shops here carry toys and games from the human world," Marigold said. "It isn't only magical toys."

  I returned my attention to the leaf. I remembered my father showing me how to solve the Rubik's Cube. I suspect he liked it for the same reasons as Marigold. It helped him to focus on one thing and block out distractions. Now that I knew a little more about him, I figured it was a coping mechanism to keep his thoughts from wandering to dark places.

  I pretended the leaf was a Rubik’s Cube and that my sole purpose in life was to solve the puzzle. I brought forth my will and thought of nothing else in the world except moving the leaf. I felt small jolts as the leaf slid across the ground.

  I glanced up quickly. "Did you see that? It moved at least a foot."

  Marigold peered down at the leaf. "How do you know it wasn't the wind? Remember my breath on the feather?“

  "For one thing, there’s no breeze right now. And for another thing, I felt it."

  Marigold’s hands dropped to her sides. "What do you mean, you felt it?"

  I tried to describe the jolt. "It was like the inside of my body jumped a little bit, just like the leaf."

  Marigold’s thin lips stretched into a smile. "Very good. Now do it again."

  "The same thing?”

  "Yes," she said. "One more time to make sure it wasn't a fluke. Then we'll move on to the next lesson.”

  I followed her instructions and moved the leaf again. I felt the same small jolt and knew that I'd been successful.

  "Now I want you to make the acorn fall off the branch," she said, pointing.

  The acorn was heavier than the leaf, but still seemed to be manageable. I sat cross-legged in front of the branch and follow the same mental pattern as I had with the leaf. After three attempts, I gave a groan of exasperation.

  "Don't get discouraged," Marigold said. "Although it seems counterintuitive, mental exercises like these can wipe you out more than physical exertion."

  "My cousin said something similar," I said. "Linnea said that magic drains you when you use a lot of it.”

  "Very true," Marigold said. "Even highly experienced witches lose energy when they've used too much magic. It's always important to recharge. It will be hard for you in the beginning. Your body and mind are still learning how to work together."

  I concentrated on the acorn. I wanted to be able to tell Marley that I'd managed both the leaf and the acorn today. And, of course, I wanted to reap the benefit of a Mom joke involving the acorn not falling far from the tree.

  "I can sense your distraction," Marigold said. "Empty your mind of all other thoughts. The only things that exist in the world right now are you and the acorn. Nothing else."

  She fell silent and I concentrated fully on moving the acorn. I felt another jolt and watched as it rolled to the side of the branch. Then gravity took control and the acorn plummeted to the earth.

  "Well done, Ember," she said, and I heard the note of pride in her voice.

  "That was fun," I said. "Can I do it again?"

  “Absolutely,” Marigold said. “Three cheers for you.”

  As long as she didn’t actually do three cheers, I was fine. I placed the acorn back on the branch and managed to make it fall again. My heart was racing with excitement. I was an achiever! Who knew?

  "What's next?" I asked. "That?" I pointed to a nearby stick.

  Marigold shook her head gently. "I think that's enough for one lesson. I can see that you’re growing weary."

  "I'm not getting tired,” I objected, and moved to pull myself to my feet. I stumbled and fell back to the ground, slamming my bottom on the hard ground.

  Marigold smirked. "You were saying?"

  "But I barely did anything," I said. “A leaf and an acorn? They’re so light."

  "Trust me, Ember," she said. "Your body is telling you to rest. Sit for a moment before we return
to the cottage."

  I remained seated on the ground, trying to steady my breathing. She was right. I felt like I'd overdone it.

  "So what kind of cool things am I going to be able to do once I build up my abilities?" I pictured myself throwing lightning bolts and swinging trees like baseball bats.

  Marigold tucked the Rubik's Cube into her cloak pocket. "Why would you want to cause destruction when it’s so much better to create beauty?"

  Popcorn balls. I was too tired to shield my thoughts.

  "I wouldn't really do any of those things," I said. "It's just a silly fantasy. Like telling off a crappy boss or getting revenge on an ex-boyfriend with itching powder.”

  Marigold inhaled deeply and centered herself. She moved her hand gracefully in front of her in a circular motion. Her movements were mesmerizing and a sense of peace overwhelmed me. Leaves began to float in the air, bowing to her silent commands. One by one, they danced in front of her, creating an outline of some kind. More leaves drifted to join the others until the shape was completely filled in. She’d created an image of a tree using the leaves that had fallen from it.

  "It's beautiful," I said. “But what's the point?"

  Marigold’s concentration broke and the leaves fell to the ground in a pile. "Why does there have to be a point? Have you ever heard of art for art's sake?"

  Not really. "I'll be able to make leaves dance around? I guess that's pretty cool."

  Marigold came over and helped me to my feet. “This is only the beginning, Ember Rose. I promise you’ll be able to do more than that. Much more."

  Chapter 10

  I was massaging the cramp in my hand after drawing one too many runes for homework when a knock on the door startled me. PP3 ran to the door and gave it a hard sniff before deciding not to bark.

  “No barking?” I queried. “Now I'm intrigued."

  Simon stood on the front step in full butler gear. “Good day, Miss Rose. My lady would like to see you in her office posthaste.”

  "Don't you have a phone?" I asked. "Did that relentless taskmaster make you walk all the way out here in your fancy clothes?”

  Simon's expression remained blank. "I enjoy a good walk, miss. It keeps the blood flowing."