Pick Your Potion

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by CC Dragon


  A girl could get used to servants and a dungeon.

  Epilogue

  The new reality of no one in my basement and no murder to solve set in. It was nice. But now, I had a secret to uncover. The cousins played dumb. I hadn’t worked up the courage to confront my aunt, just yet. We had a gypsy wedding to attend, and she always felt out of place there. Of course, Vinny’s family all wished he’d married a gypsy girl.

  Esme wouldn’t discuss the secret, at all. The truth potion had put up a wall between us.

  So, I went to the gypsy connection. Belle and her sister Vivian both worked; they lived with and supported their widowed mother. Their dad had been pretty awful so no one in the community mocked them for being old maids. They were both gorgeous girls who could’ve been married as teens but they didn’t want to end up with a guy who was nice but turned into a drunk or worse later on. I couldn’t blame them. Uncle Vin had been called to help handle their father when he’d gotten out-of-control drunk. I’d overheard some of those stories when Vin told Aunt Mandy about it.

  The gypsy sisters and I met for lunch at a burger place near their employment. Vivian worked in the morgue at the hospital. She kept the zombie population down by pushing a needle into each deceased person’s ear until she hit brain matter. No one noticed, but a zombie outbreak? We’d notice that!

  “Belle said Bran is hot and rich,” Vivian said.

  “He is. And he’s nice. Ethical. Smart. So far, he’s nice. You’ll meet him at the wedding,” I said.

  We placed our orders, and I sipped a strawberry lemonade.

  “What did you want to talk about if not Bran?” Belle asked.

  “Did you want to talk about Harry?” I asked.

  “Harry?” Vivian asked.

  “A werewolf cousin of Bran’s. He flirted with your sister,” I said.

  “He was nice, but we didn’t talk or anything, really. I don’t even know what he does for a living,” she said.

  “The Killeans own a lot of businesses. I can find out. Ask Bran at the wedding,” I said.

  “We can’t approach a single guy,” Belle said.

  Vivian rolled her eyes. “He’ll be with Claudia in a public place. Stop being so old-fashioned.”

  “What did you want to talk about?” Belle asked.

  “Fine. I found out from Esme somehow that there is a secret about me or my childhood that I don’t know. No one will tell me.”

  “Truth potion?” Viv suggested.

  “I tried it. Whatever promises or vows they made to others are stronger than a truth potion. You two haven’t heard anything?” I asked.

  Belle shook her head. “Your parents were killed by a werewolf. Vin saved you and raised you.”

  “And my dad wasn’t a gypsy hunter?” I asked.

  “No, we understood he came to it from a family attack. That’s how Gorger hunters usually get into the work. They were attacked or someone they loved was attacked, and they get in the hunter network. They tend to be loners. It’s a bit unusual. It was said he was friends with Vin. A responsible hunter who respected gypsy culture. They ended up married to sisters, so they were family. Vin is the one who took the heat for not marrying gypsy. Everyone spoke wonderfully about your mother. We were told to be very nice to you because of what you went through,” Viv said.

  “Viv,” Belle said.

  “What? She wants the raw truth of what we were told. What we know. We weren’t allowed to play with a lot of non-gypsy kids, but you needed friends and people who weren’t going to ask questions about your dead parents. I know your aunt homeschooled you for a year until you were ready to go back. Then, you seemed to be okay. You came out of the fog.” Viv smiled.

  “Thanks for telling me the truth. Did anyone say it was my dad’s fault or blame anyone? My mother always liked the darker side of things. She wanted to help everyone. And got too close to the weres and vamps, some said,” I added.

  “You do, too. But you have a system to help them and bring them to you. You don’t go into the dark dens of a traditional werewolf pack or visit a vampire nest. You learned from her. None of it was her fault. Or your fathers. Or Vin’s. There is a reason for hunters, no matter what Harry said,” Belle said.

  “Harry doesn’t believe in hunters?” Viv asked.

  “We didn’t get to talk about it much,” Belle said.

  “Some weres think they should be free to shift and be natural in certain areas. Boundaries set up. Hunt smaller animals. Like a wolf would. I don’t know how I feel about that. Or how it could be monitored. But if someone said I couldn’t practice magic because I lived in a human world and had humans in and out of my coffee shop, I’d fight that,” I admitted.

  “As long as they don’t kill humans. There is a reason gypsies have been tasked to be hunters for generations. Our men can handle the dark side and a good fight. If they want to hunt deer or bunny rabbits, fine. Not humans,” Viv said.

  “Agreed,” I said.

  “We can ask around,” Bell said. “See if Mom or anyone knows anything. They won’t tell you but us, maybe they will.”

  “Thanks so much. A death where hunters and werewolves were involved, someone in the gypsy community will know. But who knows what the secret is? It might be something totally different.” I sighed.

  We sat back as our food was delivered. I grabbed the ketchup.

  “I want to hear more about Harry,” Viv said.

  * * *

  The look on Bran’s face as we waited in the church said it all. The gypsy girls were dressed to party and the men to drink. Bran and Vin were the only two men in full suits other than the grooms, but that was okay.

  I was in a silver dress that shimmered, but it was nothing like what the gypsy brides would be wearing.

  “I feel like I’m lacking some rhinestones,” he said to me.

  My cousins laughed. “Men don’t bling. Not like this.” Iris pointed as the doors opened.

  The brides couldn’t fit down the aisle at the same time. Ten-foot wide fully hooped skirts narrowed to tiny waists. The bling was on the bodices, and both girls wore crowns. One dress was done in red, the other green. The trains went on and on.

  “Those dresses have to weigh more than they do,” Bran said in my ear.

  I nodded. “They’ll change for the dancing. The trains Velcro off.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like that,” he admitted.

  After the ceremony, we went to the hall adjacent to the church, and the bling only got bigger. The cakes had sparkles. The brides danced in the full gowns and cut the cake before disappearing. They came back in short skirts with bling all over.

  The dancing kicked up and so did the drinking. Bran ditched his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to look less formal.

  “Why are the young girls only dancing with each other?” he asked.

  “Because if they dance with, boys their fathers will kill them. Until they’re out and looking for husbands, there’s no contact with boys. Some girls break the rules, but this family is strict and old school.” I smiled.

  “The dancing is very suggestive.” Bran looked at me instead of the dance floor. “They’re very young.”

  “Gypsy kids are never kids. The little boys are little men, and the girls are women, always looking to get married. It’s their culture. But I’m glad I can dance with you and not get in trouble.” I pulled him on the dance floor.

  We weren’t wild, but we did get noticed. The brides came over and dragged me to the DJ.

  “You have to sing something,” the red bride said.

  “No, no, it’s your wedding. You’re the stars.” I didn’t show off my singing voice much. Never outside the family. But they knew I could carry a tune well enough.

  “I have to see this,” Bran said.

  “It’s our day. You have to,” insisted the green bride.

  “Fine.” I took the microphone from the DJ. “The song from Pulp Fiction about the teenage wedding.”

  He gave me a thumbs up
.

  I walked to the front. “At the request of both beautiful brides, I’m going to sing something. Get ready to show off your twisting skills…”

  The crowd went wild, and then, even the little kids were twisting like pros. I knew my audience. I couldn’t sing as low as Chuck Berry, but I saw my aunt and uncle get up and dance, as well as my cousins. Bran stood at the back and grinned as everyone got lost in the music. I wasn’t a gypsy witch, but I loved my gypsy cousins, and no one could party like they could. I hoped the teenage weddings would last, and Bran and I might have a shot, too.

  For a few minutes, I was lost in song and forgot about the secret. Tomorrow. I’d get back on that investigation tomorrow.

  A Note from the Author

  Hi! Welcome to the world of strong witches, hot wizards, were, vamps, gypsies and more! If you enjoyed Pick Your Potion, please leave a review where you purchased it or on Goodreads.

  Don’t be shy! Let me know what you want more of Claudia and her vamps. The reclusive Killean clan. The gypsies…

  Want more Cozy Paranormal Mysteries?

  Check out the Deanna Oscar Series:

  Book 1 A Mansion, A Drag Queen, And A New Job

  Book 2: A Club, An Imposter, And A Competition

  Book 3: A Bar, A Brother, And A Ghost Hurt

  Grab all three books for a great deal!

  About the Author

  A loyal Chicago girl who loves deep dish pizza, the Cubs, and the Lake, CC Dragon is fascinated by mysteries, sleuthing, as well as the supernatural.

  CC loves creating characters, especially amateur sleuths who solve crimes in their spare time. A coffee and chocolate addict who loves fast cars, she’s still looking for a hero who likes to cook and clean…so she can write more!

  * * *

  Website: http://www.ccdragon.com

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