Old Haunts

by Nova Nelson

  Old Haunts

  Eastwind Witches 11

  Nova Nelson

  FFS Media

  Copyright © 2019 by Nova Nelson

  All rights reserved. FFS Media and Nova Nelson reserve all rights to Old Haunts. This work may not be shared or reproduced in any fashion without permission of the publisher and/or author. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover Design © FFS Media LLC

  Illustration elements by Kerry McQuaide

  Old Haunts / Nova Nelson -- 1st ed.

  www.novanelson.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  You’re Invited …

  Thank you!

  About the Author

  Old Haunts

  Eastwind Witches 11

  Nova Nelson

  Chapter One

  With those first hot and sticky days of early May rolling through Eastwind, witches, weres, fauns, leprechauns and the like were making every excuse to remain indoors. And what better way to beat the heat than with a refreshing drink at the pub?

  Some people liked to have a solid excuse for whiling away the hours in Sheehan’s Pub, but I never felt the need. I worked hard and when the day was up, so long as there wasn’t any pressing ghostly business to attend to, I got to spend my days however I wanted. That was the rule, as far as I was concerned.

  And if that free time included Donovan Stringfellow and a cold pint, even better.

  It was Saturday night, and the stars had aligned (I’d nudged some of them into place, if we’re being honest) just such that I had free time, a sweating pint of Sheehan’s finest ale in my hand, and my heart-stoppingly hot East Wind witch boyfriend by my side.

  The pub was packed for the annual scufflepuck tournament. Fiona Sheehan and Kelley Sullivan, both of whom were managing to keep up with drink orders by the skin of their teeth, had cleared out all the tables and chairs in the main area, scooted the existing scufflepuck table into the middle of things, and added one more for good measure. If you didn’t get a seat on one of the stools at the bar, it was standing room only.

  Donovan and I didn’t get seats at the bar. But that was okay because it gave us an excuse to stand shoulder to shoulder, his arm wrapped around me as we enjoyed cold drinks and observed some of the first-round play, waiting for our turn to compete.

  I’d missed the tournament last year, too busy juggling my time between waiting tables at Medium Rare, ogling my hot boss, and, oh yeah, adjusting to the new reality of being a witch who could see ghosts. That was a shame, though, because from what I’d heard, Tanner was quite a lot of fun to be around during the event.

  And yes, now I’ve mentioned Tanner. I probably should have held off on that to convince you of just how well I was moving on.

  Seriously! I was!

  It’d been just about six months since he’d disappeared, and, okay, fine, I still thought about him sometimes. What was he doing? Was he okay? Had he started a new life already? Did he think about me much?

  The pain of losing him was still there, but not being one to do things only halfway, I’d been working hard on the grieving process to speed things along. The sooner I moved on and accepted that my days no longer included him, the better my life would be. If that wasn’t incentive, I don’t know what would be.

  Yes, I approach emotions with logic. And it mostly works.

  But I knew that while I might stop feeling a dull ache in my chest when he came to mind, I would never forget he existed so long as I visited all the same places around town where we used to go.

  Sheehan’s was a minefield in that sense. We’d created so many moments together here. This was where he’d saved me from the witch trap set by a doppelgänger, where we’d relaxed together after a shift, where we’d… where we’d… where we’d…

  It was also where most of the trouble with Donovan and I had started.

  Well, trouble at the time. Now it was more of an origin story for our relationship, which had been going shockingly well the last few months. I say “shockingly” because, well, you know Donovan. And you know me. And you know us.

  He tightened his hold around my waist and leaned in. “I might need you to do that darkness thing.”

  I leaned back and looked at him. “What darkness thing?”

  “You know, that thing you do where you take away all the light.”

  “Quenching?” I asked. “You want me to Quench… why?”

  He rocked his head side to side as he spoke. “Just, you know, if we’re falling behind.” When it was clear I wasn’t following, he sighed and added, “Whenever the other person is about to make their toss, you Quench the lights and maybe they miss.”

  I shook my head. “You’re unbelievable. That would be using magic, and you know that’s not allowed in the tournament.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know that. But who here would even know what was happening? Have you done it in front of anyone?”

  “Donovan, I did it in this very bar. I’m sure some of the people here tonight were there that time, too.”

  “You mean with Slash and Seamus and Lucent?” I nodded, but he waved it off with his beer hand, causing a small splash to jump out over the lip of the mug. “Half the people who were there that night have since been arrested, and the other half probably didn’t know what hit them.”

  He had a point, but I had a card yet to play. “Ruby’s right over there. She would know what was happening, and if you think she wouldn’t report me to Liberty Freeman immediately, you don’t know Ruby.”

  Donovan sighed. “Okay, fine. No Quenching. But maybe you can show it off later, when it’s just you and me.”

  I groaned at his ridiculousness, but allowed him to kiss me. Well, “allowed” sounds like I didn’t kiss him right back. I did. And why not? I was already a beer deep, it wasn’t exactly a secret that he and I were together, and we were by no means the only couple getting a little handsy in Sheehan’s that night. Since it was a Saturday, a lot of the folks there had been drinking since the place opened that morning.

  Hey, everyone has to let their hair down sometime, and when you live in such close proximity to beings as deadly as Eastwind held claim to, the need to relax only grew stronger.

  Liberty Freeman called our names, and I broke the kiss to realize all eyes were on us. “Oh shoot,” I said. “I guess we’re up.”

  Emagine Hopespring, who the town had warmed up to quite well over the past months, would officiate our match as Liberty managed the other table. Both genies were too powerful to participate—pretty much everything they did had a touch of magic mixed in to the point where it was impossible for them to follow the no-magic regulation. So instead, they called th
e games, and that was probably better anyway—turned out, Liberty’s charisma and ability to work a crowd was rivaled only by that of his now fiancée.

  Emagine ran through the house rules as a formality as Donovan and I moved to either end of the table. We were up against Landon Hawker and Grace Merryweather, and Donovan had called it an “easy win” for us. I wasn’t so certain. Sure, Grace was ready to pop with a baby any minute and cared much more about finishing whatever book she was reading than socializing in Sheehan’s, but Landon had been playing this game against the best of the best—Ted and Count Sebastian Malavic—for years. He presented a challenge.

  They split up, and Landon came to stand on my side, which meant he and I would be going head-to-head each round, while Donovan and Grace competed for points on their end of the board.

  I wasn’t terrible at the game. I’d played my fair share of shuffleboard in bars in my earlier years, back before I died and came to Eastwind. And scufflepuck was a lot like that, only with way more minor explosions and slightly different scoring.

  Plus, Donovan had conjured up a scufflepuck table in his house the month before and had been training me well past the point where it was any fun. Fortunately, I did know one way to bring the practice session to a screeching halt. And I’d used the trick countless times. It involved unbuttoning his shirt, and it worked a little like magic.

  But even though Donovan was clearly the more competitive of the two of us, if I was going to play, I was going to play to win.

  I nodded at Landon. “It’s okay if you’re a little rusty.”

  The North Wind blinked at me. His rosy cheeks were extra flushed from alcohol. “I’m not rusty.”

  “Sure, sure. It’s just that you’ve been spending a lot of time at home with Grace, and not a lot of time at Sheehan’s, getting your tosses in.”

  He lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re trying to get in my head. I’m not going to let you.”

  I chuckled. “Fine, fine. I’m just saying, nothing wrong with prioritizing the woman you love and her unborn baby over winning some dumb tournament. So if, say, your tosses all go just a little to the right and into the gutter, I won’t judge you for it.”

  “You’ve been spending too much time with Donovan,” he grumbled, as Emagine handed us the pucks.

  Landon shut his eyes, inhaled, seeming to steady himself, and then slid his puck down the table.

  For fang’s sake. It was a perfect throw.

  “All right,” I said, “I guess I’m just going to have to win this the good old-fashioned way.” I tossed my first puck, and it went too far to the right, into the gutter.

  Landon snuck a glance at me, and I said, “Yeah, yeah.”

  He took his second toss, and though it didn’t score as high as the first, it was still solid.

  My turn.

  But before I went, he said, “Seems like all that concern for me was just you projecting. It’s okay, though. I expected you to be rusty. Donovan has always distracted you from more important things.”

  I paused in my pre-toss routine and straightened. “I don’t think I like what you’re implying.”

  He held up his hands defensively. “I’m not implying anything. I think I’m being pretty clear.”

  Well, look who was suddenly sassy. The meek, nerdy witch who’d been part of my former circle had found a little confidence in the last half a year. Good for him.

  I tossed my puck, and it crashed into his low scoring one, causing both to explode and the onlookers to cheer and raise a glass.

  “Well done,” he said earnestly.

  And that’s when the match officially started to heat up.

  Chapter Two

  If the score was any indication, I was only half as good as Landon. Fortunately for my team, Donovan was slightly more than twice as good as Grace and had creamed her every round. But now it was down to the final one.

  Donovan’s pucks were positioned well across the target, but all Grace had to do to take it into extra rounds was explode a single one of Donovan’s four pucks. A smart tap at the right angle would do it.

  “You got this,” Landon called from our end of the long table. “Just relax.”

  “So you know,” I muttered to him, “telling a woman to relax has never caused a woman to relax.”

  Grace made her toss, and it looked good, but an unfortunate amount of spin caused the puck to make a slight left, miss Donovan’s puck, and fall off the edge of the board into the gutter.

  Immediately, I felt bad, that feeling you always get when you beat nice people in a competition. Of course, my delight at making it through the first round in a single-elimination tournament helped carry me through the negative emotion.

  Grace, however, didn’t seem concerned. And when I turned to look at Landon, I found that he was already hurrying over to her, a big grin on his face. “You did so well,” he said, and he took her hand and helped clear a path through the crowd for her.

  Donovan appeared beside me. “Nice work, Ashcroft.”

  He held up a hand and I high fived it.

  “Wow, nothing more romantic than being called by my last name.”

  Donovan shrugged. “There’ll be time for romance later. Now’s the time for victory.”

  “We still have ways to go before we’re there. How about we just start with a victory drink?”

  He pointed at me and nodded his approval. “Good thinking.” And then he disappeared through the crowd.

  I spotted Landon and made straight for him. The crowd shuffled around as the next teams snaked through to take their place at the tables.

  At Liberty’s table, Stella and Kayleigh Lytefoot were gearing up for a match against Oliver Bridgewater and Zoe Clementine. And at Emagine’s table, Jane Saxon and her sister-in-law Sasha Fontaine were matched up against Stu Manchester and Ezra Ares.

  Someone had given Grace a barstool to sit on, and I approached Landon on his other side. “Good game.”

  He smiled while Grace watched the games with a detached interest and supported her large belly with one hand while holding his with the other.

  “You did the right thing,” I said, so only he would hear. He looked at me, eyebrows raised with intrigue. I explained. “After you lost, you went straight to her and were supportive.”

  “Duh,” he said. “I love her.” He shot her a sideways glance then let go of her hand, promising he’d be back in a second. Then he nodded for me to follow him. Once we had put a few bodies between us and Grace, he grinned like a fool and plucked something out of his pocket. It was a small box, and I guessed what was inside of it before he even opened it and showed me the shiny jewel.

  “Siren’s song, Landon.” I looked up at him. He was still grinning. “When are you gonna do it?”

  “Not sure,” he said. “Just trying to find the right time.”

  “Considering she looks ready to pop, you might consider doing it sooner than later.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Let me see that thing again.”

  He flashed the ring proudly.

  “Sheesh. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a sapphire that big. What do they pay you down in the Catacombs?”

  “Enough to keep me working down in the catacombs. And I didn’t exactly have anything to spend it on before her, so…”

  I nodded. “Makes sense.” I slapped him on the back. “I’m happy for you.”

  His grin faded slightly as he said, “He would have proposed.”

  “What? Who?”

  He leaned closer. “Tanner. He would have… He told me he had a ring picked out.”

  My mouth fell open. “I… uh… why are you telling me this?”

  “Mighty wind, Nora! Because I care about you. And I cared about him. We were in a circle together! I know you both better than most.”

  “Donovan was also in that circle,” I said firmly. “You’re forgetting about him.”

  He set his jaw, a gesture of bravery I wasn’t used to seeing on
him. “I’m not forgetting about him. And I’m glad you two are happy together, but you know as well as I do that it’s not the same. You and Tanner were perfect for each other. You made each other better.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snapped, feeling bad for it immediately.

  “Maybe you’re right. So, what, you and Donovan are going to get married?”

  “I don’t… We’re nowhere near that point. But maybe.”

  “Nora, come on. I’m only telling you this because no one else will. And you were there for me when I thought Grace was…” His voice cracked, then he straightened his posture again and forged ahead. And I, too stunned by his unusual candor, listened. “You’ll regret it if you give up on him. When Grace disappeared, and we all thought she was dead… I hate to say it, but I gave up on her for a little bit. And it’s the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I’m horrified to think that I wouldn’t have done everything I could have to find her.”

  “You thought they’d found her body, though. You thought she was dead. There’s no shame in giving up when you think someone’s dead.”

  He glared at me. “You of all people should know that death doesn’t mean much when it comes to separating people. And besides, Tanner isn’t dead, is he? Do you really think you can move on with Donovan, build a life with him, grow old together, knowing that you haven’t exhausted every option to get Tanner back here?”

  “By doing what? Opening another portal and putting the whole town at risk again?”

  “Yes!” he exclaimed. “And no one who’s been in love would fault you if you did. How can you move on if there’s still a chance he could come back to you or you could go find him?”