by Fitz Molly
A sigh escaped me as I headed up to the cider booth. Curious, I peered up at the menu. This was new. A cheery blonde woman dressed as a scarecrow with bright blue eyes and a wide grin came up to me. "I'm Sue," she said. "We just opened up shop right down the road. I make all kinds of ciders, hard and soft, but my personal favorite is the blueberry."
I opened my senses up to her and felt good cheer and happiness. She seemed like a nice woman. "I'll take a blueberry then. Small please." I fished around in my purse for a five and handed it over to her. She took it and handed me over a bubbling mug. It smelled heavenly.
"Thank you! I'm Ivy."
"Nice to meet you. Pop by the shop some time and I'll show you around."
"I will. I own The Suds Stop just down the road. You're welcome to come in there, too. I make all kinds of soap and bath products."
Her eyes widened with interest. "Oooh. My husband will be very angry at you for that invite." We laughed together. "But I'll definitely pop by. Next week?"
Happiness filled me at the potential of making a friend. "Next week sounds great."
"Good then. It's a date!"
Someone else came up to the booth then, so I stepped away and waved goodbye. I walked through a large crowd of people and waved at them as I checked out the sights. Not much changed here from year to year. We always had some kind of festival and it always ended up being the same - booths all over the place and happy townspeople.
I sipped the cider and almost moaned at how good it was. Holy smokes. Who knew cider could taste this good and why had I only drank apple for all those years? I stared down at my drink, wondering what kind of magic Sue had to make such a genius product.
My distraction caused someone to bump into me. Cider sloshed over the top and just as I gasped in apology, someone took my elbow and pulled me into the wooded area.
Stunned, I let myself be dragged for a moment before I dug my heels in. Just as I was about to scream, a hand clapped over my mouth.
I looked up and saw golden eyes.
Chapter Seven
"Help me," the man said.
Fear speared through me. I tugged my arm and he let go to my surprise. I stood there, shocked, and wondered if I should scream for help. But he'd asked for help. And that's not something an evil person would do.
Was it?
"Who are you?" I asked as I rubbed my arm.
"I'm Het," he said, his words thick with an accent. His face looked stricken. "I can't control myself. You ... you can control emotion, yes? The wolves speak of you."
I took a step back. "I can't." My fingers trembled. "That's not something I can do."
He nodded. "You can. I've seen you."
I frowned up at him. "I assure you, I cannot do that. I can sense emotion. Not control it."
Alec stepped out from behind the trees. Het froze as he looked from me to his Alpha. The other wolf held his hands up. "Het, I'm not trying to hurt you. I promise. We have to get you help."
Het pointed to me. "She will help me."
Alec gave me an apologetic expression. "She can't, Het. She doesn't know she has the power."
I stamped my feet in annoyance. "What is going on? I don't have any power like that."
Alec gave me a sympathetic look. "You do. We sense it beating from your house like a beacon, Ms. Ivy."
Shock rooted me in place. "I ... I can't. Can I?"
Het seized on my confusion. "You can. You can make the voices in my head stop. I - I hurt someone. She wouldn't leave me alone and I was trying to get away."
"Mindy wouldn't leave you alone?" I asked, confused about how he'd run into her.
"She wanted to hurt Sam. She came to me. The woman knew what I was. She thought I could help her. That I could hurt Sam."
I met Alec's gaze. Het was mentally challenged, I thought. He sounded like he was much younger than he looked. I reached out to touch him. "Het, I'm sure it was an accident."
He nodded. "It was. I promise it was. But I couldn't be a wolf and I couldn't be the other. So I ran."
"The other?" Alec asked.
"The magic," Het said. He rubbed his hands over his arms as if he had a chill. "It's the magic. It fights inside of me. I can't control it."
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. His grief and fear spilled over me like a shaken up soda. I wasn't sure what he or Alec meant by my magic. I thought maybe sometimes I affected people, but it was always by accident. The magic came when I infused it into inanimate objects or when I infused it into my shop. I didn't know if I could truly help him like he needed me to.
But I wouldn't be a very good person if I didn't try, would I?
I reached out and put my hand on his arm. Het stilled like a puppy would when you gave them belly rubs. His eyes closed.
Alec stepped up beside me, nodding. "Thank you, Ivy."
"I don't know what I'm doing," I said through gritted teeth.
"Wolves like touch. Just doing that is enough at least for a moment." His eyes were golden in the dim light. "The wolves sense your house from miles away. The sense of peace and home there beckons us. It's rare we find ourselves welcomed anywhere, but you've done it. And when you welcomed me into your home, you've made a friend of the wolves."
I wasn't all that sure I wanted to be friends with people who could turn into monstrous beasts when the moon turned full, but I guess I could have worse friends, right?
I shut my eyes and concentrated. Het was a seething cauldron of emotion. I'd never worked on a human quite this way and it felt foreign to me even as it felt ... peaceful. Like a piece of me had snapped into its final place. I sent waves of calming energy into Het, focusing my thoughts on balance and joy and gratitude.
If anyone saw us right now, we'd look like we were in prayer. Het and my head bowed as we concentrated. Alec stood beside me, one hand on my shoulder. I felt grateful for it even as I swayed with the effects of my magic.
Moments later, Het collapsed at my feet.
I gasped in surprise. "Oh. Het. I'm so sorry!" I looked up at Alec who was staring at me strangely.
Alec picked Het up with ease. "This is exactly what we needed. His mother was witchborn, so we know what kind of magic he has." His jaw tightened. "Please have your police officer visit me at the edge of your woods tomorrow. I'll need to talk to him about Mindy and the fallout from that."
I stared at Het's limp body. "Will he be alright?" My fingers trembled and I shivered. I felt weak and tired.
"You gave him peace, Ms. Ivy. He's probably exhausted. You were the only one to help him. Maybe the only one who could give him a moment inside of his own head. Our doctors can help him now, hopefully."
I nodded and Alec reached over and touched me on the shoulder. "If you ever need anything, call for us." He grinned at me and a shiver ran down my spine. "We will hear you. Especially if the moon is full."
With that, Alec ran away into the woods, the smell of him lingering in my nose - pine and citrus. I stood there staring after him and after a moment shook my head.
"What the heck?" I muttered to myself. My cider was still cold in my hand and it felt like I'd dreamed the entire thing. Shrugging, I stepped out of the trees and back into the festival, only to bump right into Sloane.
I looked up and laughed out loud. The officer was dressed as a vampire, complete with enormous fangs and his hair slicked back like Eddie Munster. He blinked when he saw me.
"Ivy?" He sounded incredulous.
I bowed. "Actually, please call me Dread Pirate Ivy." I winked and pointed my parasol gun at him. "Now, give me all your cash and don't tell me you don't have any because I can smell the money all over you."
Epilogue
Sloane had a weakness for cider and apparently bloodthirsty Steampunk pirates, too. He stuck close to my side for the rest of the night and glared at everyone who looked twice at me. It was both flattering and annoying, but it came to a head when Sam came up to us.
His eyebrows went up as he looked me over. "Deadly and beautiful,"
he said. He inclined his head at Sloane.
"Your case is solved," I told Sam. "The wolf grabbed me and took me into the trees over there." I jerked a thumb over my shoulder.
Sam's mouth dropped open. "Ivy! That isn't funny!"
"I wasn't laughing when it happened."
"You're serious?" he said, his eyes wide behind his glasses.
"Yup." I waved a hand around. "You're welcome."
Sloane took the cider out of my hand and peered at the label. "Alright, Miss Ivy, did you realize this is hard cider?"
I blinked. I was feeling pretty sassy, wasn't I? I made a noise with my lips. "Darn. Grab me a water?"
Sloane nodded and gave Sam a long look before he walked off.
"Happy Halloween, Ivy," Sam said, his green eyes twinkling as he looked at me.
"Happy Halloween yourself," I shot back and grinned at him. "You happy to be off the hook?"
His expression sobered. "Mindy was a pain, but she didn't deserve what she got."
I chewed on the side of my lip. Sam was not yet aware that Mindy tried to hire a werewolf to chew his face off, but I decided to let that fact slide in the spirit of the holiday.
"Mm," I said instead, noncommittal.
Sloane returned with my water, still holding my blueberry cider. I eyed it with greed, but Sloane rolled his eyes. "If I give this back to you, I'm driving you home, got it?"
I nodded eagerly and he returned the cider. I'd have to be careful with it and only have one, but it was Halloween and the harvest festival. If I couldn't have one delicious cider after sort of kind of solving a murder, what kind of place was this?
I grinned at Sloane and took another sip of it as I looked around. The entire town was out here tonight and almost every single person had dressed up. Minus Sam.
I eyed him. "Hey, where's your costume?"
Sam wiggled his eyebrows and I remembered his secret. The one I was sure Sloane didn't know.
"Who's to say this isn't my costume?" he said and grinned a secretive smile at me.
A chill ran through me at his words.
Who's to say indeed?
Want More?
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A Haunted Offer
Carolyn Ridden Aspenson
About This Single
Alyssa can communicate with the dead, something no witch has ever been able to do. At least none she’s known. As Alyssa works to stage an empty home for sale, decorating it for the Halloween season, she runs into a former owner—one that’s no longer living of course, and he asks to help solve his suspicious death. It’s not like she doesn’t already have enough on her plate, or plates, if you consider how much she’s currently juggling, but how can a psychic medium witch refuse?
Where It Fits
A HAUNTED OFFER can be read as a stand-alone, but chronologically it fits after SPOOKS FOR SALE… Enjoy!
Chapter One
Swan Hollow is a magical, beautiful place to live, but it doesn’t come without its own unique problems. For starters, though magic abounds, there are restrictions and rules dictating how witches like me are allowed to use it. That puts a damper on things like ordering pizza. Instead of just making it appear magically, I have to follow the human process. When I wake up at two o’clock in the morning with a supernatural sized craving, it’s a Totino’s microwavable for me.
Another downer about living in this magical town is the weather. Swan Hollow only has two seasons: hot and humid, or less hot and humid. Witches don’t have the same molecular makeup as humans. We’re not impacted by temperature or humidity—thank you, Goddess—but it would be nice to have the traditional four seasons for a change. They’re each stunning in their own right, and watching the world change with every season would make my heart swell.
Especially now, in the fall, when everything is all about the supernatural. Witches love fall. It’s our season, our time to do all things witchy, be all things witchy, and experience all things witchy. Okay, that might be an exaggeration. No, witches don’t have the freedom to do whatever we want whenever we want. We just love fall because it’s a traditionally witchy season for humans, and it’s easier for us to get our witch on if you know what I mean.
Halloween is fun no matter the temperature, and Swan Hollow residents live by the go big or go home theory when it comes to celebrating the holiday. Every house, business, school, park, building, and sidewalk has some kind of Halloween décor. Not one single resident considers it overkill. No matter how many pumpkins, goblins, ghosts, and scarecrows are set up around town, everyone wants more.
This is why I had to drive out to Savannah to get décor for a home listing my boss, Iris Blackwood, recently handed over to me. I didn’t want to spend a lot of money—human or supernatural. I'd checked Calloway Hardware and the few boutiques offering handmade décor, but they were all sold out. I had no other option but to go where I’d pay nearly triple in human cash for paper pumpkins and string spider webs. Iris would reimburse me, but the frugal side of me hated spending money that way.
I finished up in Savannah quickly and then headed back toward the listing, making a quick pit stop for a peach and cinnamon tea at Dew Drops and Tea Pots.
Esmerelda greeted me with a big hug. “How’s the home selling business going, honey?” I’d never met a witch as nice as Esmerelda, and I’ve known many witches.
“It’s going.” I hadn’t meant for that to come out with a sigh.
She propped her elbows on the café counter and rested her chin in her hands. “You got something going on you want me to fix?”
Dew Drops and Tea Pots wasn’t an ordinary café coffee shop, and Esmerelda wasn’t a typical witch. The café was her magical medicine cabinet. Esmerelda used her teas and treats to heal the emotional and physical pains of humans and supernaturals in town. Have high blood pressure? No problem. She’ll get that under control with a pinch of flaxseed and a splash of her specially filtered water. I’ve always wondered what she did to filter her water, but Esmerelda kept secrets better than the dead. Or considering my life as of late, most of the deceased.
“Iris wants me to decorate the Anderson home for Halloween, but it’s barely furnished, and it’s not getting any viewings anyway, so I don’t see the point.
“I thought decorated homes sell faster than empty ones? Something is better than nothing if you ask me, but let Iris guide you. She knows how to do these things.”
“No, I don’t mean stage it, I mean to decorate it. For Halloween.” I told her my tea choice, and she prepared it for me.
“Oh, why in the dickens would she want to do that?”
I threw my arms up in the air. “That’s what I’m saying! And I had to drive out to Savannah to get stuff because Calloway’s and every other place in town are completely picked over. All the good stuff is gone.”
“Savannah’s not far.” She handed me my tea.
“No, but it’s expensive.”
“Let Iris worry about that.” She leaned against the counter and sipped on her own tea concoction. “I can’t believe the Andersons moved out like they did. I thought they loved that home.”
I shrugged. “I think when Holly sold it to them, they did, but you know the rumors.”
She nodded. “It’s too bad. Even if Old Mr. Mayfield is haunting the place, he won’t hurt a flea. He was the nicest warlock in town. It was a sad day when he passed.”
“I didn’t really know him.”
“He didn’t get out much those last few years. He was too fragile, and it was just too much for him. And that family of his didn’t make things any easier.” She shook her head. “The whole thing is just so sad.”
I wanted to share my secret with Esmerelda, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready, and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I’ve only told
one being, Abershama Calloway, a shapeshifter in town. And I’ve only told her because previous circumstances forced me to. So far, she’s kept her lips zipped, and we’ve become pretty good friends. Still, she’s a shapeshifter, and they aren’t the most trustworthy supernaturals in the Universe. I had to keep my cards close to my chest even with her because my secret’s big. It goes against the necessary foundation of the principles in the supernatural plane.
I can see and communicate with ghosts.
Witches don’t usually have this ability, but here I am, breaking the witchy mold. There are three planes to the Universe: the spiritual, human, and supernatural. Humans interact with both the supernatural and the spiritual, but the supernatural and spiritual don’t connect. I’m the exception. I don’t know why or how it all started, but it is what it is, and I’ve learned to live with it.
“Earth to Alyssa.”
I’d been lost in thought. “Sorry, lots on my mind.”
“I can tell.” She caressed my arm. “You okay, sweetie? Want me to fix you up something calming?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine, really. Anyway,” I finished the last of my tea and scooted the cup toward her. “I’ve got to get to the Anderson’s and get started decorating.”
Chapter Two
Roland and John were waiting impatiently inside my car.
“About time you came back,” John said. “I may be the size of your palm, but I still need oxygen, and being locked inside this metal beast stresses me out. Besides, I smell cheese.”