by Amy Boyles
Southern Dreams
Sweet Tea Witch Mysteries Book Fifteen
Amy Boyles
LADYBUGBOOKS, LLC.
Contents
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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
Chapter 26
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Also by Amy Boyles
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Chapter 1
“The wedding gifts are starting to arrive,” Amelia announced. She flitted inside the house I lived in with her, our other cousin Cordelia, and our grandmother, Betty.
From her spot in front of the cauldron, Betty twisted her head over her shoulder at Amelia. “None of them have burst into flames yet, have they?”
I scowled and took the brightly wrapped package from my cousin. “No. Why would any of them burst into flames?”
Betty shrugged. “Oh, you know how witches can be—vindictive sons and daughters of witches.” She pulled her corncob pipe from a pocket and shoved it between her front teeth. “Not that I expect anyone to have a problem with you, Pepper. But you never can tell with our kind.”
I ran my finger over the silky golden wrapping paper. “Betty, I appreciate all your kind words, such as they are,” which meant she hadn’t spewed one kind word at all, “but I think I would know it if a box had something harmful in it.”
Betty narrowed her eyes as if to say are you sure about that?
I laid the box on the couch and fisted a hand to my hips. “I’m sure I could figure it out. How long have I been a witch?”
“Not long enough to know if a present is cursed,” Amelia said.
I glared at her.
Betty hooted in laughter.
I cocked my chin at my family members. “I’m trying real hard not to be insulted by y’all, but I’m falling short.”
“Oh Pepper.” Cordelia entered from the kitchen. She tossed her long blonde hair over one shoulder and dipped her head. That same luxurious hair fell like a curtain over one eye. “Don’t let these two give you a hard time. Betty’s only upset because she’s bored.”
“Am not,” Betty snapped before returning to stirring her cauldron that was filled with a brown sludge that resembled mud but smelled noxious. “I only thought that if one was cursed, I’d be able to help. I didn’t want Pepper opening all her gifts in private.”
Cordelia shook her head. “And this would have nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been wanting a pair of silver candlesticks from Witchwicks for years, does it?”
Betty scowled. “So what if the only way to get a pair of Witchwicks sticks is to buy them as a gift? So what if the candlesticks look gorgeous on a dining table? So what that my own were lost years ago? That doesn’t mean I’m going to steal Pepper’s when she receives a pair for her wedding.”
“Yes,” Cordelia answered.
Amelia chuckled while Betty scowled.
I cocked a brow. “Doesn’t sound that interesting to me—a pair of candlesticks.”
Betty stared at me as if I’d grown two heads. “For your information a pair of Witchwicks may not seem like much, but having them is like being part of a secret witch society. I may run things in this town, but these candlesticks will take things to a whole new level.”
“Like the insanity level?” Amelia murmured.
I hid a giggle behind my hand.
“Not that level.” Betty’s face pinched into an expression of frustration. “Since y’all are so young, I don’t expect you to know this. For witches, being old is better, but there are some things even being old won’t get you accepted into.”
Amelia pointed to a broom and it animated, waltzing around the room sweeping up dust. “Let me get this straight—you, Betty Craple, the same person who used to escort our naked mayor home every morning before anyone saw him, who once made a horrible mistake and set a blight on this town, and who in her very fireplace holds the key to keeping the magic in Magnolia Cove alive and burning—you aren’t able to get into an entire part of Magnolia Cove’s witch society.”
Betty puffed on the pipe before unhinging her jaw. A star-shaped-like smoke drifted from her mouth and floated to the ceiling, where it dissolved.
“That’s correct,” my grandmother confirmed. “There’s a group of mean old nasty witches I’ve been trying to get in with for years. They think we Craples aren’t good enough for them.”
I held the dustpan at a mound of rubbish the broom had piled and waited for the object to sweep it into the receptacle. “Can you explain why you would want to be involved with these particular witches?”
Betty leaned away from the cauldron and stared out the window. A dreamy look overtook her face. “Because those witches snubbed me when my daughters were young. They didn’t think my daughters were good enough to play with their children.”
“In their defense, you did raise a pair of chaos witches,” Cordelia said.
Betty ignored her. “I’ve always wanted to get in good with those women so that one night I could fly by their houses”—she paused dramatically—“and moon them.”
I stared at my cousins. Amelia’s jaw fell, and Cordelia stared, openmouthed, at our grandmother.
My gaze met my cousins’, and the three of us burst into laughter. Tears slid down my cheeks. Our chuckles rang loud in the room, growing in volume as Betty’s face turned crimson.
“Let me—get this—straight,” Cordelia said between tears. “You want a pair of Witchsticks so you can become friends with a group of nasty witches so that you can pull down your pants and show them your bare bottom.”
Betty stiffened. “When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”
I dropped the rubbish in a trash can, brushed my hands and crossed to Betty. I glanced down at my little grandmother, who lifted her chest as if she was ready to boob me out of her way at any moment.
This lady knew how to use her boobs, let me tell you. I patted her shoulder to suggest that she remain calm, and beamed at her.
“Tell you what.”
Her eyes narrowed with distrust. “Tell me what?”
“I get a pair of Witchsticks and they’re yours for the using.” Her mouth split into a smile, and I held a finger to stop her celebration. “On one condition.”
She glared at me skeptically. “What’s that?”
I made a circle with my finger. “The three of us get to watch you moon the witches.”
Betty stuck out her hand. “That’s a deal.”
Chapter 2
Figuring I’d never receive these amazing candlesticks and relieved I would probably never have to witness Betty’s bare bottom, I stepped onto our front porch and whistled.
Autumn had officially arrived in Magnolia Cove. The leaves seeped with fall colors—beautiful fiery reds, bright oranges and golden yellows. The su
n dappled through the leaves, leaving dots of light on the grass.
As quickly as I admired it, a wind kicked up, sending the branches swaying. Then brilliant blue and green wings appeared, flapping lightly as my dragon, Hugo, landed on the lawn.
I trotted down the steps, my purse bouncing against my hip as a wide smile split my face.
Hugo snorted pleasantly. Warm steam shot from his nostrils. I avoided getting hit just in case it was a little too warm and patted his shoulder.
“Good to see you, friend. Want a treat?”
Hugo blew a heavy breath and nudged me with his head.
I laughed. “Okay, boy. I’ve got just the thing for you.”
I lifted the flap on my purse and dipped my hand inside. The treat I’d packed for my dragon lay on top. I unwrapped one of Betty’s buttery biscuits from a napkin and offered it to him.
The dragon’s lips peeled back, and he delicately took the snack from my open palm.
“I knew you couldn’t resist one of her biscuits.”
Hugo released a purr of thanks. Good, Mama.
The words popped inside my head as loudly as if the dragon had spoken them.
“You’re welcome.”
Hugo stretched his front legs, and I climbed on top of his back. I took one last glance at the house, and spying my cat, Mattie, in my bedroom window, I waved.
The cat blinked at me in response.
“Let’s go, Hugo. To Familiar Place.”
It took barely a minute to reach the pet store I owned that specialized in pairing witches with their familiars.
As soon as Hugo landed, I slid from his back. “Thanks, big guy. I bet if you head over to the house, Betty will find something else for you to eat if you’re hungry.”
Deep fried squirrel? he asked.
I cringed. Though that didn’t sound appealing to me, perhaps it sounded great to Hugo. “I don’t know about that, but you can try.”
Without another word Hugo lifted into the air and disappeared behind the trees.
I unlocked the door and was met with a chorus of kitten meows, yips from puppies and quiet screeches from the birds.
“Good to see y’all, too.”
I pegged my purse and was about to start feeding the animals when a woman with long silver-white hair entered.
Her dark eyes reminded me of glass beads, and wiry hairs sprouted from her hooked nose. She wore a long black robe that looked to be made of crow feathers.
The robe itself seemed to sway and rustle as if it moved of its own accord—like the thing was alive.
Weird, I know. But true.
I’d never seen this witch before, but even with her haggard appearance, she drifted into Familiar Place with such command I was taken aback.
“You,” she said.
On her shoulder, the feathers of her robe jutted out in a long finger.
My heart rate shot up, and sweat drenched my palms.
I’d never seen clothes act on their own before, not where they had their own personality and amplified what a person said.
The long finger made of feathers shot forward, stopping directly in front of my chest. I jerked back as a bolt of energy ignited down my back.
I didn’t trust the robe. I stared at the feathers but spoke to the unfamiliar witch.
“Yes? What about me?”
“You,” she repeated in a murmur so low the hairs on the back of my neck soldiered to attention.
Often when an evil witch smelled blood, they went in for the kill. I didn’t want this witch to think me weak, that she could intimidate me.
I cocked my chin and dragged my gaze from the feather to meet her eyes.
“What about me?”
The raspy quality in her voice sent goose bumps prickling down my skin. “You are getting married.”
Relief flooded me. Did she only want to talk about my wedding? Was she one of Axel’s relatives who’d arrived early for the occasion?
If that was the case, I needed to be gracious. “Yes, I’m getting married to Axel Reign.” I clapped my hands. “Do you know him? Are you related? Are you his great-aunt Clarice?”
I wagged my finger at her. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re Clarice. Axel told me about how you like to play jokes and scare people.”
I wiped a fake line of sweat from my forehead. “Whew. You had me there for a second. I thought you were some bad witch bent on hurting me. Wow. Am I so glad I’m wrong about that. But really, you just about did a number on me.”
I pressed my palm to my heart. “My ticker’s still hitting hard. I can’t believe you’re Axel’s great-aunt. Come on in.”
The witch stiffened. She sucked in her cheeks and glared at me. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t Great-aunt Clarice.
“Silence,” she commanded.
A wind shot through Familiar Place. The front door opened and banged shut.
“Now, I don’t appreciate—” I started, but the witch raised her hand.
“I said silence. My name is Misery of the great Grimeldies.”
“So your name is Misery Grimeldie?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
She waved her hand. “For as long as witches have walked the earth, the Grimeldies have always attended a witch wedding of significance.”
She leaned forward. Her acrid breath spanned the distance of the room and hit me directly in the face. I nearly choked. “Your wedding is no exception. I am quite upset at not receiving an invitation to the nuptials. This slight cannot be overlooked.”
I put as much sorrow into my voice as possible. I mean, this woman was a stranger, after all. Not someone I knew or cared about. “Well, I’m sorry about not being invited. We put the guest list together months ago. No one said anything about the Grimeldies. If I’d known it was going to be such a big deal, I’m sure I could have worked something out, made sure you came. But I had no idea.”
Misery scowled. She flared her arms. The finger of feathers snaked back into the robe. “Now it is too late. You have slighted me. You have slighted my family name. You have made a laughingstock of me.”
So many things were wrong with this situation. First of all, I didn’t know the lady, so how could I possibly insult her? Secondly, I didn’t take kindly to her showing up and throwing her stupid crow-feather cape around and telling me that I’d insulted her.
“Listen, Misery. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but like I said, I’m sorry. I can try to spring for a last-minute invite if you want—”
“No,” she screamed. “There is nothing you can do now that will make up for this. Because of how you’ve spat on me and my family”—she raised her hands dramatically—“I, Misery Grimeldie, of the great Grimeldies, curse you, Pepper Dunn, and the town of Magnolia Cove.”
A shock wave erupted from her outstretched arms, and a great gale ripped into me. I grabbed hold of the counter, steadying myself and trying to keep from falling over.
Loose papers slapped my face, stinging my cheeks. I sputtered and shook my head, trying to free my face from the assault.
For a brief moment helplessness overtook me, and then I remembered who I was—Pepper Dunn, a powerful witch who didn’t scare at a small, silly wind.
I called my own power from the depths of my core. It roared from me and flashed out, destroying the wind as quickly as it arrived.
My body lunged forward as the gale disappeared. I collapsed onto the counter. My chest heaved as I gulped air. I blinked grit from my eyes and searched out the witch to give her what for.
Misery had vanished. The store lay empty. The birds squawked, the cats meowed and the puppies barked, but the woman wearing the crow-feather robe was gone without a trace.
I shivered. Had she spoken the truth? Had she cursed our town? I raked my fingers through my hair and stepped outside.
Magnolia Cove looked perfectly pristine in the morning sunshine. Dew sat fat and heavy on the grass that ran along the sidewalk and birds chirped.
If
my town had been cursed, it sure didn’t look like it. But I’d dealt with enough witches in my life not to take appearances for more than what they were worth.
My fingers trembled as I fished my phone from my purse. I scrolled through the numbers until I spotted the right one.
A voice answered almost immediately on the other end.
“Hey, beautiful.”
My heart bloomed with love for Axel Reign. In a few short weeks we’d be wed and starting our lives together. I still felt an exhilarating thrill whenever we spoke or touched or even made eye contact.
He was my one and only, y’all.
But as much as I wanted to wrap myself up in his voice and fall asleep, there were issues at hand.
“Axel,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I have to see you. I think we might be in trouble.”
Chapter 3
“Misery Grimeldie? Sounds like a fake name.”
Axel rubbed his chin. Amusement glinted in his eyes, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say that he was making fun of me.
I poked Axel’s rib cage good-naturedly. “I’m serious. She came in wearing this weird living robe thing made of crow feathers, I think. Not that I’m any kind of expert in feathers, but they were black. But anyway”—I threw up my hands in frustration—“she said she was supposed to be invited to the wedding. That her family was invited to all big witch weddings.”
Axel raked a slash of dark hair from his eyes. “Sounds like something you need to take up with Betty.”