Magical Midway Paranormal Cozy Series Books 1-3

by Leanne Leeds

  “What purpose is that?”

  “A necessary one,” Uncle Phil said. “To cull those that poison the soul of the paranormal world.”

  “Uncle Phil, she said she hunted our kind! Circus people!”

  “If the purpose of the nomads is to keep the energy we supposedly guard traveling around so it can’t be grabbed,” Gunther pointed out. “Then you could reasonably assume we’ve had bad people taking cover in our circuses over the years, too. Think about it, Charlotte—if someone was after you, where’s the best place to hide?”

  “Behind an impenetrable wall that moves all over in a way no one can predict,” I said.

  “And with those that do not subject themselves to the normal rules,” Gunther added.

  “Then there’s really two possibilities if Devana is who this Thirteenth Witch prophecy claims she is,” I told them. “One, she’s the person directing the murder of Chase Trout because he was some kind of paranormal cancer that needed to be routed out. Someone trying to frame me is a separate issue of convenience.”

  “And the other?” Uncle Phil asked.

  “That she’s decided I’m the immoral thing that needs to be taken down, and that’s why she’s here. His murder was just a means to an end.”

  “Why would she be dating Chase Trout’s brother, though?” Gunther asked.

  “Maybe the prophecy made her do it.” My answer dripped with sarcasm, and Gunther winced again.

  None of this feels right, Samson said.

  “What do you mean, it doesn’t feel right?” I asked the cat.

  A huntress doesn’t plot. They’re not conniving. Murdering someone just to catch someone else… that would be immoral. They also don’t hide their actions from anyone. Nothing is secret. No one would fear to cross them if it was. If Devana had killed Chase Trout, we would know. She would not hide the how, or the why.

  I related what Samson said to Gunther as my uncle tapped his fingers on the table, deep in thought.

  “I need to talk to Devana,” I told the assembled group.

  “Are you daft?” my uncle asked. “Did you hear anything that I just told you?”

  “Nothing you just said leads me to believe that I shouldn’t talk to her. In fact, we both have a role to play in some grand prophecy. Seems like Gunther and I both have to talk to her.”

  “You want to invite her here?” Gunther asked, surprised. “You could be putting your citizens in danger. Not to mention you would scare the heck out of them.”

  “I didn’t think about that,” I agreed. Some paranormals never, ever left the safety of the Magical Midway. With this new information, I now wondered why. Could I be harboring criminals? Murderers? I shuddered.

  Silence descended as all four of us sifted through the information in our minds.

  I realized I had learned an incredible amount of information over the course of two days, but none of it painted a clear picture of what was going on. I remained as in the dark about who and what was behind all this as I was when I arrived.

  And time was running out.

  “Okay, then break out the blue rose,” I told my uncle. “If I can’t bring her here, and I can’t go there, I need to do some snooping. The ghosts overheard some interesting information as they wandered around.”

  “They did?” Uncle Phil asked.

  “Yeah, they can apparently float around invisible now,” I told him. “Go get your stuff out of your yurt. I want to take a walk on the invisible side.”

  Uncle Phil nodded, hopped up, and walked away. He turned once as if he wanted to say something else, but a second later he shrugged and left the yurt.

  “I’m sorry,” Gunther said as soon as we were alone. His voice was soft and hesitant. Not hesitant enough to not talk about the darn thing, though, the moment we were by ourselves.

  Well, we weren’t alone.

  Samson jumped up on the bed and curled up on my pillow. I could see his ear standing at alert on top of his head as the cat pretended to doze.

  “Please, Gunther, not now,” I insisted.

  “I’ve been waiting almost twenty years to have this conversation, Charlotte,” he told me as he turned to look me in the eye. “Ever since my mother died, ever since Ethel told me about this supposed destiny.”

  “Then a few days more or less aren’t going to matter,” I snapped at him and turned away.

  “I need to say this now,” he said, his voice growing stronger. “And I need you to hear me. You don’t have to say anything. But I need you to know this, hear it, and believe it.”

  I paused.

  I didn’t want to have this conversation, but no one in this entire circus seemed to have the ability to be patient. Everything had to be dealt with right then, with no delay. With no ability to process, with no ability to wait.

  As usual, I acquiesced.

  “Oh, fine, what?”

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you,” he said. “But put yourself in my position. For the first time in my life, I meet someone that’s beautiful, interesting, confident… and she likes me. She doesn’t judge me for being a half-witch, or a nomad. She knows all sorts of things I’ve only heard rumors of. She loves the kind of life that I love. Charlotte, you were more than I ever could have hoped for… more than I deserved.”

  “Oh, Gunther, stop,” I told him, my heart cracking open at his words even as I struggled to hang on to my anger at him.

  He moved over to the couch and sat beside me, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “I love you, Charlotte. And I didn’t want to say anything or do anything that could push you away.”

  “I just can’t believe that you kept that from me,” I told him. “We talk about everything, Gunther. How could you not tell me about this?”

  “I wanted to be sure that you really liked me,” he said. “I didn’t want you to wind up being with me because of some obligation. I wanted to give you the chance to make your own choice, unencumbered by the weight of all this. I felt you deserved that.”

  “I do like you, Gunther,” I sighed. I still couldn’t say love. All the revelations still swirled like a chaotic storm in my brain, confusing me. “I just hate that all of this keeps getting sprung on me. And it makes me wonder…”

  “Yes?” Gunther leaned closer.

  “Well, what if you only think you love me? Because you know about all this stuff? What if you don’t really feel about me the way you think you do? You kept this from me to ensure my feelings were genuine for you. How am I supposed to believe your feelings are genuine for me?”

  “Oh, Charlotte,” he laughed and leaned forward. “How could anyone not love you?”

  “Well, there’s the Witches’ Council and—”

  Gunther leaned forward to silence me with our very first kiss. I closed my eyes, stomach jumping nervously and waited.

  And then I heard the metal clunk.

  “Ow,” Gunther said, and I felt his weight shift away from me quickly. My eyes flew open to a surprised Gunther sporting a bloody lip.

  “What happened?” I asked him in a panic.

  “I, um…” he mumbled as he grabbed a napkin from the coffee table and held it to his mouth. “I think your ringmaster protection is pretty all-encompassing, Charlotte.” He laughed as he pressed the napkin down harder trying to stop the bleeding.

  “Wait, I don’t understand,” I told him, my panic rising. “You can’t kiss me?”

  “There may be certain kisses that are unafailable to us,” he said, muffled. “Can you get me some ice, please?”

  Ohmygoshyouhavetobekiddingme I shouted in my mind to no one in particular as I jumped up and ran over to the magic refrigerator.

  I explained to you that your protections operate much like a full body shield, Samson interjected as I tried to steady my hands shaking. The full body being the operative words.

  Do you mean to tell me I can’t kiss Gunther? At all?

  Nope. At least not like that. A peck on the cheek should work.

  I raced back t
o Gunther and handed him a washcloth filled with ice. He smiled and took the napkin away. This time, it was me who winced at his swollen, bloody lip.

  “I am so sorry,” I whispered, my eyes tearing up.

  “Charlotte, it’s not your fault. It’s mine, really. I should have thought that through a bit more before I kissed you. It was my enthusiasm that got me,” Gunther chirped.

  “I can’t believe you’re taking this so well,” I told him. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

  “It’s fine, really,” Gunther said as he pressed the ice against his face. “Like I said, I really should have expected something like this would be in place.”

  “What would be in place?” Uncle Phil asked as he walked in. He looked at Gunther with the ice on his face and my stricken expression and nodded. “Ah, yes. I should have told you two about that. I didn’t realize that the relationship had progressed to that point quite yet.”

  “You had to deal with this?”

  “Oh, yes. Jeannie is quite a bit happier now than she was before. It does give a relationship a certain old-fashioned quality that could be quite charming,” Uncle Phil said as he began placing the rock and cauldron down on the floor. “At least until the sexy fun starts—”

  Uncle Phil’s eyes opened wide, and then he whirled around whistling.

  “Why did you stop talking?” I asked him.

  “Just getting ready, dear. Let me concentrate now.”

  Uncle Phil, what was that? What were you going to say?

  Later, dear, he answered. Perhaps now isn’t the time.

  Samson, what is he hiding from me?

  Your uncle is right. We can have this discussion later.

  I watched my uncle setting up for my spying spirit walkabout nervously. Whatever they were hiding from me was probably obvious, but I was so rattled by bashing in Gunther’s lip from a kiss I couldn’t calm down enough to think straight.

  “Charlotte, I’m fine,” Gunther told me. “No worries.”

  I worried.

  I worried a whole lot.

  Later, I would be grateful that I didn’t piece it all together in front of my boyfriend, my uncle, and that stupid cat.

  11

  Separating from my body this time went far quicker than the last time. I knew what to expect, and I wasn’t as nervous. I heard the pop and looked down at my drooling, catatonic body glowing blue with a sense of accomplishment.

  “Is she gone?” Gunther asked Uncle Phil as his eyes grew wide. He stared at the saliva slowly creeping down the corner of my mouth. Fantastic.

  “Likely so,” my uncle answered as he threw more blue rose on the cauldron fire. “Charlotte can allow us to see and hear her, but it doesn’t seem like she did so this time. She could still be in the room, but it’s far more likely that she’s already gone to see what she can find out.”

  Or that she’s hanging out and listening to her boyfriend and uncle talk about her without telling them. That could be happening, too.

  Shut up, Samson.

  Oh, keep your britches on.

  Not sure I can do anything other than that at the moment.

  Anya and Faleena walked into my yurt laughing. “Hey, Charlotte, we came to drag you to a campfire party.” Anya leaned down and grabbed my limp arm trying to tug me from the floor, but I flopped over. “Charlotte! What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s, um, meditating,” Gunther told Anya as Faleena crossed her arms and looked on suspiciously. “We were doing a meditation exercise. She’s quite good at it.”

  “Yes, Gunther was just showing her how to meditate. She’s been a little stressed, what with the whole suspicion of murder thing at the festival,” Uncle Phil agreed. My uncle reached out and grabbed my other arm to yank me back upright.

  “She seems pretty relaxed to me,” Anya observed.

  “Yes, she is very, very deep into the meditation,” Gunther told her and coughed. “She’s a quick study.”

  “So, Anya, why don’t you stay here and wait for your friend to wake up,” Faleena told her. “I’m going to head back to my campsite and change for the party. Never know who you’re going to meet, you know?”

  “Yeah, okay. Meet me back here?”

  “I’ll be back in about an hour,” Faleena said as she made for the door. Her hand slipped into her pocket, and she threw something behind my table as she turned to head out the door. No one other than me spotted it, and I only saw it because it glowed and pulsed with magical energy in this alternate dimension I inhabited.

  It’s an eye, Samson informed me.

  Oh my gosh, she just threw somebody’s eye in my yurt?

  Not an eye as in someone’s eye, Samson responded with more than a little bit of sarcastically exaggerated patience. An eye as in an enchanted spyglass. Whoever is at the other end of that eye can see everything that happens in this room. Well, through the chair and table legs. Faleena didn’t have a very good aim.

  Can they hear anything?

  Of course not. It’s not an ear. It’s an eye.

  Tell Uncle Phil about the eye. I’m going to follow her. I knew there was something off about Faleena.

  Let’s leave it until you return. Just in case it’s got wards, you should be the one to grab it. You have more protections than they do.

  Okay.

  Be careful, Charlotte.

  I floated along after Faleena. The werebear had given me a few nonspecific indications there was something suspicious about her, but this was the first time it was clear she had something to hide.

  Anya seemed to know the woman, and trust her, so I hadn’t given Faleena much thought despite her weird behavior and attitude. Now, I regretted that decision.

  She stomped loudly behind the campsites and the more populated areas of the festival. The moonlight gave me a clear view of the crowds gathered around campfires and along the road, as well as the distance Faleena was putting between them and us.

  “Are you here?” she called toward a rather large tree. Bushes shuffled, and a figure emerged from the darkness.

  Scout.

  “I’ve been waiting a half an hour for you,” Scout told her. “It was almost impossible for me to shake Devana. She’ll be wondering where I am.”

  “Here,” Faleena told him, handing him another glowing rock. “It’s in her tent, but I didn’t get to place it well. I don’t know what you’re going to be able to see.”

  So, Scout Trout was spying on me. But why?

  “There is no way I’m letting that one-eyed drunkard Wayland keep me from being elevated tomorrow,” Scout told her as he grasped the eye. “At least now I’ll know if those two are plotting.”

  Wayland and I plotting? What the heck?

  “I have no doubt that her and that boy are in cahoots with the cyclops,” she responded. “It’s clear that she and the Makepeace heir are close… if you know what I mean. Those stupid circus people. How dare they plot against werebears.”

  Well, I guess I found where the accusations were originating.

  “When do witches need a reason to plot?” Scout asked her. “They all think they are better than us.”

  “At least you know that we, your werebears, are loyal to you, future clan leader. We will not let the witches threaten our community. You would do well to push your own pet witch away from you, though, before the ceremony.”

  As I hovered next to the two of them and listened to the conversation they thought was private, I was even more confused.

  “Devana has never given me any indication that she does not care for me,” Scout growled. “She is not like the others, and holds no loyalty to the Council. You overstep your bounds, bear. You have no say over who I share my cave with.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when that huntress witch turns on you,” Faleena rolled her eyes. “I will continue to stay by the side of Anya to observe the Magical Midway unless there is something else you want me to do,” Faleena told him.

  “No, thank you, Faleena. I appreciate
your loyalty,” Scout said as he reached out to pat her on the head. “One more day and this will all be over.” Scout turned and ran away from her without waiting for her response.

  “He’s got that right,” Faleena mumbled as she walked deeper into the forest to another clearing some distance away. I watched as the werebear sat down on a fallen log. Every once in a while she lifted her head and looked to the right and left as if she was waiting for someone.

  After fifteen minutes, who that someone was became clear.

  “What news have you?” Bolt asked as he emerged silently into the clearing.

  “The witch is meditating. Devana is unaware of anything, as far as I know.”

  “And Wayland?”

  “Drunk, I presume. He may be the only person at this entire festival truly grieving over that clod.”

  “Not even the clod’s brother?” Bolt asked her politely.

  “How would I know?”

  “Did you not just meet with him?”

  Faleena stared at the elf. I didn’t see her move at all, but her energy changed from calm to defensive.

  “I may have agreed to your plan, but you are mistaken if you think my trust in you is unquestioning. I do not wish to be the last one standing should this all fall apart.”

  “You have your ring, elf. That was the only condition I needed to fulfill. Honesty and forthrightness wasn’t part of our bargain. Informing you of any other activities I engage in certainly wasn’t.”

  “It’s all right. It’s not as if I would trust anything you said in any case.”

  “Oh, boo hoo,” Faleena told him as she stood up. “How you feel about me after this is of no consequence. Only my service to the Council matters. Did you come here just to be your standard charming self or are you here to give me information?”

  “It’s a shame there is so much mistrust among those embarking on this little endeavor,” Bolt told her. “Your rule of us was never coated in this much deception.