Magic & Maladies

by Annabel Chase

  “This isn't you!”

  “Sure it is,” he said. “Sheriff Granger Nash. Says so right here on my star.” He tapped the shiny piece of metal affixed to his shirt.

  “No, that’s your name and your title, but this…” I circled a finger in front of his face. “This is not who you are.”

  He took a step backward and lowered his gaze. “That’s the problem,” he said. “I don’t seem to know who I am anymore. I keep trying to figure it out, to see what feels right, but nothing works. I figured following my brother’s lead was my best bet.”

  My jaw unhinged. “Are you on some form of magical crack? Why would you ever think Wyatt was a role model in any way, shape, or form? You know better.”

  He frowned, appearing to be confused. “I don’t think I do.”

  “Granger, I’ve seen you do things recently that I can never forget unless I…” I stopped abruptly as my memories rewound to Haverford House, when I’d joked to myself about taking a potion to forget what I knew about Artemis and Jefferson’s unusual relationship.

  “Unless you what?” Granger prodded.

  “Forget,” I murmured. “You wanted to forget. That’s what you told your mother.”

  “You spoke to her?”

  Synapses were sparking all over my brain. “Great popcorn balls of fire. You did this to yourself, Granger. You took something.”

  He looked at me blankly. “What did I take?”

  I gripped him by the arms. “Take me back to your place.”

  He shot me a look of amusement. “Now you want to come back to my place? I thought you said you were with Alec. Make up your mind.”

  I smacked his arm. “Not for that. I’m trying to help you, you shaggy mutt. Now take me back to your place before I change my mind and leave you twisting in the wind.”

  “Your wish is my command, pretty witch.” He motioned for me to go first.

  It was only when we reached the street that I realized he hadn’t driven his car. “You’re riding a motorcycle?”

  “You like it? Seems to get a lot of attention from the ladies.”

  I shook my head. “Just get on.”

  He climbed on the bike and he wasn’t wrong. He did look damn sexy on it. “I need a helmet,” I said.

  “Spoilsport,” he said, and handed me one. Reckless Granger didn’t wear one, but I bit my tongue.

  I climbed on behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. It was a quick ride to his place. I tried not to told him too tightly or lean too closely. I didn’t want to send the wrong signals. I only wanted to help him.

  Once inside, I began rifling through cupboards and drawers, looking for anything that he might’ve taken. A potion. A note with a spell. Anything that might explain his warped behavior.

  He sidled up to me as I opened his bathroom cabinet. “I think what you’re looking for is in the drawer in my bedside table,” he said suggestively.

  I elbowed him in the stomach. “Down, wolf. I told you that’s not what this is about.” I whipped around to face him. “The truth is that you took something to forget me. Only it didn’t work. Whatever you took, it seems to have made you forget you instead.”

  His expression shifted to something between a frown and a smile. “Why would I want to forget you?”

  I glanced upward, struggling to find a way of easing the pain. “I hurt you, badly. I think you might have gone in search of a spell or a potion that would make you forget that you cared for me. Whatever you did, you haven’t forgotten me, but you have forgotten you.” I jabbed a finger into his chest where his heart was. “You seem to have forgotten the very essence of who you are—at your core. Instead, you’ve teased out too much wolf. We need to get the real Granger back.”

  He grabbed my hand and kissed my finger. “You’re Ember Rose. I could never forget you.”

  Gently, I tugged my hand away. We had to stay focused. “No matter which version of Granger is here right now, your habits are probably much the same. If you were going to take a potion, where would you keep it?”

  He stroked the stubble on his rugged jawline. “Probably on the second shelf in the cabinet next to my fridge. That’s where I keep vitamins and anything I have to take.”

  I didn’t hesitate. I zipped into the kitchen and opened the cabinet door. Sure enough, I saw a bottle with bright orange liquid inside. Only half the contents remained. It reminded me of the penicillin I used to take as a child whenever I had strep throat. I snatched the bottle from the cabinet for a closer look. The label read Forget-Me-Yes. I squeezed the bottle in my hand.

  “This is it, Granger. This is what you took.” I scanned the label for more information. I needed to go to the potion maker at Charmed, I’m Sure and find out how to reverse the effects.

  He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. Desire burned in his deep brown eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a little while? Nobody has to know.”

  I gave him a long, lingering look. “We would know, Granger. We would know.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I’d left my car at The Arched Cat, so I had to get to Potions Lane on foot. I ran through the heart of town as fast as I could. I passed the Painted Pixies and Silver Moon headquarters. The Muse fountain and Shooting Star. I slowed as I neared Charmed, I’m Sure. As much as I wanted to update Deputy Bolan with my discovery, I didn’t want to waste a moment. I needed to get the antidote to this potion and administer it to the sheriff. He’d be horrified to realize that he’d shirked his responsibilities, especially given Shayna’s murder. While he was busy playing fast and loose with every woman within reach, someone was literally getting away with murder.

  I entered the shop and made a beeline for the counter. I didn’t recognize this salesclerk. He was a short wizard with a T-shirt that read Fun Run to Mordor and a picture of Mount Doom from Lord of the Rings in the background. Well, at least we were dealing with a fan of the human world—or the human world’s interpretation of the fantasy world. He and Magnus had more in common than they probably knew.

  I slapped my hands on the counter. “I need your help.”

  The wizard smiled. “That’s cool. You’re that Rose chick, right? The one from New York?”

  “New Jersey. I’m Ember.”

  “I’m Rafe. I’m in your coven. I’ve seen you at meetings, but I always sit in the back and you’re always up in the front with your family.”

  “Nice to meet you, Rafe. I have a situation and I could really use your help.” I pulled the potion bottle from my pocket and set it on the counter. “Did you sell this to Sheriff Nash?”

  He picked up the bottle and studied the label. “Nah, dawg. Wasn’t me. The ID number here in the corner tells you which one of us made it. 66 is Declan.”

  “Is Declan around?”

  Rafe sat on his stool and spun around. “Nope. Went on holiday to Mistfall. He’s been saving for like a year. Can you imagine saving for a year to go somewhere?”

  Right now, I was imagining throttling Rafe’s neck. “Okay, listen. What do you know about this potion? I need it to be reversed immediately. Whatever you have to do to make that happen, do it.”

  Rafe’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. “Lady Rose, man. This is way above my pay grade. I make the basic potions. I wouldn’t know how to handle this one.”

  “Somebody has to,” I insisted. “Who else can we ask? Call Declan in Mistfall if you have to. This is urgent. If I don’t get satisfaction, you’re going to bring the wrath of the entire Rose family down upon the shop.” Rarely did I invoke the Rose name, but this seemed like the appropriate occasion.

  Rafe tipped backwards and nearly fell off the stool. He managed to catch himself by throwing a hand against the wall. “Chill, Lady Rose. No wrath required. I’m going to sort you out.”

  “I’m not the one who needs sorting,” I said sharply. “Sheriff Nash is. This stupid potion has made him forget who he is.”

  Rafe looked intrigued. “Like he forgets he’s the sheriff? Who
does he think he is?”

  I didn’t feel like getting into detail. “Basically, he thinks he’s his brother, Wyatt. That’s not good for anybody in this town. We need to get him back or there will be consequences.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Rafe said. He began thumbing through information on his phone. “I’ve got someone, like a consultant. He’s called a fixer. But it’ll cost you.”

  “Do it.”

  He clicked the screen and I could hear the other line ringing. “Yeah, this is Rafe from Charmed, I’m Sure. I’ve got a Code Orange that I could use your help with. Can you swing by, like now-ish?”

  I drummed my nails on the counter, waiting.

  “Awesome, dude. You rock.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket. “He’ll be here in five minutes. He’s kind of new, but seems awesome at what he does.”

  I sagged with relief. “Thank you, Rafe. I’m sorry if I was short-tempered with you. I’m just really worried about my friend.”

  He shrugged. “It’s all good, Lady Rose. We all have our triggers, am I right? If my sister wants to see my dark side, she knows all she has to do is reset my game or change my password and not tell me the new one.” He whistled. “You haven’t seen Armageddon until Rafe has to reset his password with another capital letter and another symbol.”

  “Yeah, that’s the same,” I said bitterly.

  I pretended to browse the other potions in the shop while I waited for the consultant. It was hard to concentrate on anything other than the impending resolution. Finally, the door swung open and the consultant stepped inside.

  “Craig?”

  He seemed equally surprised to see me. “Good to see you, Ember,” he said.

  “Are you here to buy a potion?” I asked.

  “Actually, my presence was requested,” Craig said. “I sometimes served as a consultant on special cases in my hometown and my employers were kind enough to give references to some of the businesses here. I have an advanced degree in mixology.”

  Craig was the fixer? This was not great news. I didn’t want him to disclose any of this to Aunt Hyacinth. On the other hand, if he managed to restore the real Granger, then maybe it wouldn’t matter. Still, I’d rather my aunt not know what really happened. The council could still decide that Granger had been reckless in taking a potion in the first place. I didn’t want to take the risk.

  “Well, I’m your consult,” I said. I returned to the counter to show him the Forget-Me-Yes potion. I gave him a brief rundown of events.

  Craig picked up the bottle to inspect it. He opened the lid and sniffed the contents. “Ah, yes. I can detect the problem.”

  “You can? Just like that?”

  “The balance is off,” he said. “This one is a very delicate, complex mixture. A fraction of an ounce in the wrong direction and you get… Well, you get your problem with the sheriff.”

  “Can you fix it?” I asked, my heart hammering. “Can you mix another potion that reverses the effects?”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  My relief was so strong that I nearly collapsed in a heap. “How long will it take?”

  “If I have all the ingredients I need here, then maybe half an hour?”

  I threw my arms around him. No matter what concerns I had regarding his intentions toward my aunt, right now he was my saving grace and I was grateful.

  Rafe showed us to a back room where Craig set to work at one of the potion stations. He reminded me of a bartender, the way he poured and tossed and stirred his liquids. It was plain to see that this was second nature to him.

  “Does my aunt know about this?”

  He glanced at me. “About the sheriff's situation?”

  “No, about your side hustle. Your special skills.”

  “I don’t think it’s actually come up in conversation. I’m only called in for emergencies.” He seemed to take the measure of me. “I suppose we each have a secret we might like to keep.”

  “Why don’t you want her to know? What’s wrong with being an advanced mixologist? My aunt thinks highly of anyone who excels in magic. You must’ve noticed that.”

  “Yes, but she also prizes those who don’t need to earn a living, which I do.” His expression softened. “She believes me to be wealthier than I am. I never lied to her, mind you, but I might have let her believe that most of my money was inherited.”

  Ah. That probably explained the mind reading block. He didn’t want my aunt to dip into his thoughts and learn the truth. I wouldn’t put it past her to try. On the other hand, she genuinely seemed to like him and it wasn’t fair to build trust on a lie.

  “I think you might be underestimating her, Craig. She could have easily let me move to Starry Hollow and become some sort of weird coven socialite, but she didn’t. She set me up in the cottage, sure, but she also got me a job. A real job. She’s disappointed in Florian when he’s idle. She values hard work. She wanted to see my runecraft presentation because she wanted to see that I was working hard and earning my place.” Ugh. I was defending my aunt for being my own personal taskmaster. Whatever next?

  “In other words, you think I should tell her the truth,” Craig said.

  “Always,” I said. “Ditch the mind reading block. It just makes you seem shady, like you have something sinister to hide.”

  He looked at me askance. “You know?”

  “I may have tried to read yours,” I admitted.

  He grinned. “And your aunt thinks she has you pegged.”

  “Trust me. You don’t want to start off a relationship based on lies. If you’re serious about her, that’s a shaky foundation to build a future on.”

  “A house of sand,” he murmured.

  “Look, Craig. The bottom line is that my aunt really seems to be into you and I don’t think it’s because she believes you’re independently wealthy. She finds you handsome and charming and witty. That’s all the real you.”

  “You read her mind, too, did you?” He seemed pleased to know what she thought of him.

  “Tell her now before she finds out some other way. I promise you, I don’t think she’ll be very forgiving, no matter how much she wants to run her hands over your biceps.” Inwardly, I shuddered. Now I needed a forget potion for that memory.

  “Thank you for your keen insight, Ember.” He handed me the completed potion. “Tell the sheriff to drink this. All of it. He should be back to his version of normal within twenty-four hours.”

  I accepted the bottle. “Thank you, Craig. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

  He winked. “It’ll be our little secret.”

  “For now,” I reminded him.

  “For now,” he agreed.

  It didn’t take much effort to convince Granger to drink the potion. Once I left, however, I put a spell on his doors and windows that prevented him from leaving for twenty-four hours. It was best for everyone if he stayed put and I only felt a smidge guilty about it.

  After my good deed was done, I headed to the office to type up my notes on Shayna’s case and call Deputy Bolan with an update.

  “Coming to work at this late hour?” a voice asked. “If nothing changes, nothing changes.”

  “Bentley!” I’d forgotten the elf was due back from his honeymoon. “How was it?”

  “Best week of my life,” he said. “I can’t thank Alec enough.”

  “You’ll do your best. You wouldn’t be Bentley if you didn’t have your lips permanently fixed to his behind.”

  “My lips were there long before yours,” he shot back, then seemed to realize it wasn’t the zinger he thought it was. “Forget it.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure the honeymoon cocktails have fried a few brain cells, not that you could afford to lose any.”

  “It’s the wedding that nearly made me lose my mind. Remind me to never plan one again.”

  “You barely planned this one,” I said, as I typed a text to Deputy Bolan with the good news about the sheriff.

  Bentley ignored m
e. “I understand the point of a honeymoon now. It’s because a vacation is a necessity after the stress of a wedding.”

  “Or you could be me and get knocked up and not really have a wedding.” I dropped into my chair and fired up the computer.

  Bentley grimaced. “No, the wedding was important to us. Truth be told, Meadow did the hard part.”

  I smirked. “You don’t say.” I laughed at the deputy’s reply to my text—a smiling leprechaun emoji.

  “Meadow slept half the honeymoon. She’d been so stressed before we left. She had to keep apart squabbling relatives and ex-partners from each other, as well as from their friends.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry Shayna’s dead, of course, but she was one of the most difficult guests to seat. If Franco weren’t Meadow’s uncle, we would have just left her off the list. Every time we thought we’d handled the situation, someone else popped up.”

  “Tyra Langley,” I said.

  Bentley groaned. “Don’t say that name. Meadow was disappointed that Tyra and her date left early. We paid for their meals.”

  “None of Shayna’s ex-partners were there, though,” I said.

  “No, but even ex-partners of her friends were an issue,” Bentley said. “I’d accidentally put Quincy Brickstone at their table and Meadow nearly had a meltdown because she knew it would cause trouble.”

  “Brickstone,” I repeated. “As in Sonja Brickstone?”

  He shot me a quizzical look. “Her ex-husband.”

  “This guy was at the wedding?” I asked. “He actually showed up?”

  “Yes. Didn’t you meet him? Medium height and build. He wore a seersucker suit with a hat. Very dapper dude. He and Meadow know each other from…”

  I jumped up from my chair. “I need to go.”

  The elf blinked. “Go where?”

  “I have another lead,” I said.

  “Then call Sheriff Nash.”

  “I can’t yet,” I said. “It hasn’t been twenty-four hours.” And I couldn’t risk letting him botch the investigation.

  “Twenty-four hours for what?” Bentley asked. “Does he have the flu?”

  “Something like that,” I yelled. Once outside, I sent another text to Deputy Bolan and rushed to my car.