Karma’s Shift
Magical Midlife in Mystic Hollow
Lacey Carter Andersen
Helen Scott
L.A. Boruff
Contents
Dedication
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
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Also by L.A. Boruff
About L.A. Boruff
Also By Lacey Carter Andersen
About Lacey Carter Andersen
Copyright 2021
Published by Lacey Carter Andersen, L.A. Boruff, and Helen Scott
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This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Dedication
To every woman who just wants a little
magic in her life.
1
Emma
The coffee shop in the little outdoor mall at the edge of Mystic Hollow had become one of my favorite places to people-watch. The baristas knew how to make a latte, light on the sugar, taste like heaven. And what was more, I had found it easy to tuck myself into a back corner in the shop and go between people watching and reading my latest spy novel.
At least, that’s what it looked like to other people. To humans. They had no idea I was secretly practicing my magic on some of the worst people in the town. Okay, maybe not the worst, but it did seem like this mall attracted an oddly large number of shoppers just looking to unleash their misery on the people around them. I’d never been happier that I no longer worked in customer service though, I can tell you that much.
So, what better place for Karma to have some fun?
And I did have some fun.
Like now, as I watched the scene in front of me unfold. Normally, I’d be getting myself worked up. Angry at the people who thought it was okay to treat employees like garbage. But knowing that the jerks of the world wouldn’t get away with it… I wasn’t getting angry anymore, I was getting excited.
“You gave me French Vanilla!” the twenty-something-year-old woman was yelling at the top of her lungs, her stilettos clicking angrily on the tile floor. “I asked for Mocha.” The horrible woman slammed the drink down on the counter so hard liquid, and even a piece of the ice, sloshed everywhere. “And you people want to make more per hour? What a freaking joke.”
I don’t know what was worse, the yelling, the mess, or the fact that I’d heard her specifically ask for French Vanilla. But it didn’t really matter, this lady was the worst. If I was to take a guess, based on her designer clothes, superior tone, and general attitude, I’d say she had never worked a day in her life.
The barista was staring at the woman with wide eyes, but after realizing the woman was waiting for her to speak, plastered on a strained smile and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll remake it.”
“No!” the customer yelled. “I want someone else to make it. You’ll probably spit in it.”
The poor barista looked like she was about to burst into tears. “I’d never spit in someone’s drink,” she said in a weak voice. “But I’ll get my manager.”
I narrowed my eyes and felt that prickling come over my skin, the one I knew meant my magic was working. Sometimes it felt pleasant, usually when I wanted to bring good karma to someone. Sometimes it felt uncomfortable, like when I was trying to punish someone. But when I was just letting the magic go, knowing that everyone near me would get exactly what they deserved, it felt like it did now. Like a prickling that was both soothing, too warm, and almost relaxing all at once. Kind of like sitting by a fire after being out in the cold.
“Hey.” A voice from behind the customer made the angry woman whirl around.
“What?” The angry woman asked, planting a hand on her hip, and turning up her nose at the teenage girl behind her.
“Drink this!” The teenager, who had watched the whole exchange, picked up the half-spilled iced coffee from the counter. Then, she leaned over and dumped the whole thing on the rude customer’s head.
Literally, the top of her head.
The woman screeched at the top of her lungs as the teen burst into laughter and ran away, dodging people on the sidewalk and disappearing toward the park trail that led all through town.
I hid a smile behind my hand, remembering one of the first times I used my powers to make a drink spill on a woman. But even though I was trying really hard to “act my age” and hide my amusement, the longer the rude customer stood in place, mouth hanging open, dripping with coffee, the harder I found it to hold back. After a minute, I was giggling so hard a snort actually exploded from my lips.
Oh, it was a good day for the universe.
“Still want my manager to make that drink?” The barista asked, looking shocked.
The woman unleashed a string of swear words, turned to leave, and slipped on the floor. The handful of people in the shop burst into laughter, and the woman crawled out onto the sidewalk. I knew I’d just witnessed karma in action, but I also knew it wasn’t done. These kinds of things had a way of sticking with people. So, I had a feeling it’d be a long time before that woman behaved like that again.
Leaning back in my chair, I sipped from my vanilla latte and looked out at the outdoor mall. On one side, people were walking along the sidewalk between shops. On the other, the woods that surrounded the town gave a relaxing atmosphere to this little slice of paradise. And because of the nice weather, all the glass doors around the shop had been pulled back, so the airflow could move through uninterrupted. It was like sitting outside, but with a roof over my head. Not quite on the sidewalk, but with how short the coffee shop was, it was close enough to feel like I was near everything and tucked away at the same time.
A young boy suddenly came exploding out of the woods on his bike. For one second, I was happy to see a kid without a screen two inches from his face. But the next, I noticed the expression of horror on his face and the way he was peddling like the hounds of hell were on his heels.
Some instinct sent me out of my chair and stepping away from my table, with a few short strides I was out of the shop and onto the sidewalk.
Out of the woods behind the boy came a group of three other boys. One of them ran forward and threw a rock. “We told you not to come through our turf!” the little jerk yelled.
Oh, no. Not on my watch. I opened my hands and focused on the group of bullies, who were all shouting insults now with shit-eating grins on their faces. An uncomfortable prickling came, and my mouth curled with anger.
“Billy Thompson!” A woman with
shopping bags on her arms rounded the corner of the coffee shop and came to stop right beside me, her voice booming through the whole outdoor mall.
The boy who threw the rock flinched and hunched his shoulders. His eyes went wide, and the next rock in his hand tumbled from his fingertips. The boy on the bike looked between the angry woman and the kid, slowed, then skidded to a stop to turn and watch.
“Hey, Mom,” the bully said as his friends melted into the background.
His mom marched forward. “What have I told you about being mean to your little brother? Did I just see you throw a rock at him?”
I grinned and watched her grab the boy by the ear. He was in for it now.
She berated him as she dragged him away from the coffee shop, and I felt my muscles relax. I hoped the boy wasn’t a bully because his mom was, but then I pushed the thought aside. That’s not how karma worked. It wouldn’t try to teach a kid a lesson by tossing him to the wolves. No, I was sure the mom would have consequences and a firm conversation, but the ear would be the worst of it. I had never been a fan of physical consequences with my own son, but then, my son had never bullied other kids.
He wasn’t an angel either. But no one was.
I sighed. It was getting late. And if I started thinking of my son, I’d start thinking about his dad, who was probably still a toad somewhere in my neighborhood. And if I started thinking about toad-man, I’d start thinking about the scary note someone left on my doorstep. It was a nice day, there was no way I was going to obsess about all of that right now, even though my heart was already starting to speed in my chest.
With a sigh and a couple deep breaths, I drained my coffee, relishing the last delicious mouthful. It was time to head home.
As I tossed the cup into the garbage can on the sidewalk, my bladder squeezed, reminding me I was over forty and had been drinking coffee for hours. As much as I wanted to pretend birthing my son hadn’t done major damage to my insides, I’d never again be that woman who could rock a concert all night and not use the porta-potties every couple of hours. Oh, to be young again!
And then I remembered all the dumb things I’d done when I was younger and grinned. Nah, I’d keep my weak bladder and bad back if it meant I could keep my lessons too. Those were hard-earned, and I wasn’t about to give them up so easily.
Even so, this meant I needed a pee break. Pronto. I sighed and weaved through the outdoor mall, heading for the cleanest bathroom. It was a little further from my house, but well worth having a toilet seat cover, paper towels, and a clean toilet.
After using the facilities, I headed down a side street toward my neighborhood. Not only was sitting downtown a great practice for my Karma, the walk to and from had helped me feel like I got a bit of exercise in, especially given how hilly the roads were. As I huffed up the street, going through a stretch lined by woods rather than houses—another perk of small-town living—the afternoon seemed to get oddly dark. I picked up the pace, huffing as I headed up the hill.
The forecast hadn’t called for rain, or I wouldn’t have come today or at least I would’ve brought an umbrella. I eyed the sky with concern. It felt kind of strange to watch the dark clouds rolling in so quickly. Had the weather always changed this fast in Mystic Hollow when I was younger? I wasn’t sure but I thought it had. Still, it made me feel unsettled when the clouds moved over the sun and darkness washed over me. What was more, the storm clouds made the temperature drop so dang fast that goosebumps erupted across my flesh.
I was going to have to ask the ladies about whether these strange storms were normal due to being so close to the ocean, or supernatural. Now that I knew about witches, shifters, and sirens, this storm felt like it belonged in the “weird stuff” category.
When I was about a hundred feet from the end of the wooded part of my walk, a growl made me whirl around. At first, I could see nothing to explain the unsettling noise, but then I saw two red eyes from the shadows.
My heart skipped a beat. It was probably just a rabid beaver, right? Or an angry raccoon? Or a bunny who’s angry at life? I gripped my purse strap and took a step back, breathing hard.
Suddenly, a large black wolf leaped from the shadows. Its lips peeled back, and a roar tore from its lips, seeming to shake the woods around us.
My heart calmed a little, and I sucked in a deep breath to steady my breathing. “How dare you scare someone like that!” I exclaimed, realizing what was happening. This was one of the pack members trying to play a prank and it wasn’t funny. “You could’ve given me a heart attack, and then how would you feel?”
The wolf gave another little growl, but it was quieter. Uncertain.
I put my hands on my hips. “What would your mother think of you scaring ladies who are just trying to walk home? Huh?”
The wolf lowered his head and looked up at me with guilty, worried eyes. “You should feel bad!” I exclaimed. “What you did wasn’t funny. If I’d thought you were a wild wolf, I might’ve taken off running, tripped, and broken my leg. And humans don’t heal like you lot do.”
He cowered more, tucking his tail between his legs.
“That’s right. You take yourself home right this instant and stop trying to scare people.” As he turned toward the woods, I thought of something else. “Oh, one more thing! You go tell your alpha that you risked exposing your kind for a stupid prank. Go tell him right now, before you even go home.”
The wolf let out a pitiful whine, then slinked into the woods.
Served him right. Little trickster. He had to learn.
I carried on, turning onto the road that led down to the ocean and my neighborhood. I lived in the house my parents had owned, with a large lot and a backyard that faced a white sand beach and the rolling waves of the ocean. At least I wasn’t heading back to the home I’d had with my ex.
Yes, I knew how lucky I was for such a home.
When I turned off the road and down my driveway, I stopped at the mailbox.
There was nothing but a postcard for Mystic Hollow. It had no stamp, no address, and no return address. Only one thing was written on the back.
Tick Tock.
Thunder sounded above me, and a tremble ran through me making my legs shaky. The postcard tumbled from my hand, and I crumbled onto the sidewalk. I knew that handwriting.
The person who knew about my husband, they were here, and they weren’t going away.
2
Emma
Thinking about the postcard and what it had to mean, I felt a little lost. Who could possibly know what I’d done to my ex when I’d barely understood it myself at the time? I’d turned him and his lover, girlfriend, affair partner, whatever you wanted to call her into toads in my backyard and run for it. There would’ve been no reason for a supernatural to be hiding in the shadows of my garden, nor did I believe any human would report seeing something like that. People would just think they were crazy. So, who could have sent me this note and the last one?
Climbing to my feet, I stared down at the postcard again and tried to feel brave. For some reason, even after facing vampires, sirens, and shifters, the situation with my ex shook me in a way I was ashamed of. I felt like I was coming to terms with being betrayed and having our marriage fall apart, yet I still didn’t feel too guilty about the toad-thing. If Karma had made it happen, wasn’t it what he deserved?
If I ever again met the old lady I’d saved in the street, I’d have to ask her about it. Part of me, and I’m talking more than just a little bit here, wanted to track her down and give her a piece of my mind, but an even bigger part wanted to track her down just so I could ask her how all this worked. I mean, what kind of crap was that to just dump a supernatural ability on someone and disappear. It was like my son coming home and just leaving his laundry for me to do. If I had any say in the matter, it wasn’t going to fly.
I trudged up the path that cut through my front yard, feeling a little lost. At least I was coming home to my place in Mystic Hollow with my brother and not my lone
ly house back home where my college-aged son rarely visited. That was something to feel better about. But when I looked up at the dark house, I groaned, remembering I’d be here alone. Henry had gone over to his girlfriend Alice’s house to play some video games. I’d known that, but after getting that postcard it had slipped my mind. As strange as it seemed, I didn’t like the idea of being here alone, not at all.
I’d noticed that Alice preferred being over here when I wasn’t around, and if I was then Henry would generally go over to her place, well, her parents’ place. She was a bit of an odd duck; they both were really. There was something about her though, I knew she was a witch and struggled with her magic, but I knew there had to be a reason she was more open to Henry’s quirks than most people were. Maybe it was the fact that he was so straight forward? There was something to be said for people who didn’t beat around the bush and maybe as a witch who struggled with her powers, she appreciated it more than most. Worrying about my brother’s love life was not what I needed to be concerned about right now though. He and Alice were perfectly happy with one another. I was the one getting creepy notes and postcards left for me.
Grumbling, I shoved the postcard into my purse, my knuckles scraping against the zipper of my wallet as I did, and headed toward the porch, digging for my keys.
“Damn it.” I stopped and pulled my purse up higher, trying to see down in it. Why hadn’t I turned on the porch light before I left? Oh yeah, because it’d be a bright and sunny day without a threatening note when I’d gone to the coffee shop. Life changed so dang fast sometimes… or maybe it was just my mood that changed so quickly. Either way it could be exhausting. Sometimes I just wanted to scream at everything to stop for a moment and let me catch my breath.
Karma's Shift (Magical Midlife in Mystic Hollow Book 2) Page 1