Magic & Mischief Read online

  Magic & Mischief

  Starry Hollow Witches, Book 3

  Annabel Chase

  Red Palm Press LLC

  Magic & Mischief

  Starry Hollow Witches, Book 3

  By Annabel Chase

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  Copyright © 2017 Red Palm Press LLC

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Alchemy

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  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

  Thank you for reading

  Chapter 1

  “Ember, I think it's high time you attend your first meeting as a trustee of the Rose Foundation," Aunt Hyacinth said.

  We sat in the sun parlor of the main house, sipping fizzlewick martinis. I felt very sophisticated drinking out of a glass instead of a bottle. Aunt Hyacinth was draped in one of her infamous kaftans, this one lavender covered with images of her white horse. Precious, her fluffy familiar, sat on her lap purring softly.

  "The Rose Foundation?" I queried. "What’s that?"

  "One of the most generous charitable organizations in Starry Hollow," she said. "It was started by my grandparents. Each member of the family is on the Board of Trustees—except the children, of course—until they come of age. It's time for you to learn what being a Rose means in this town."

  So far it seemed to mean bulldozing my way through bureaucracy and red tape and being told I lacked their typical ethereal beauty. I was eager to see what else it meant.

  "Just tell me where and when."

  “We meet right here at Thornhold, in the boardroom."

  Why did it not surprise me that the house came equipped with a boardroom? I bet there was also a bowling alley and a disco somewhere in the vast space she called home.

  "We have a presentation today, so it will be a good opportunity for you to get your broomstick off the ground,” Aunt Hyacinth said.

  “There’s flying involved?” I asked.

  She stroked the cat. “No, darling. It’s an expression. I believe humans say things like ‘getting your feet wet.’”

  Oh, that made sense. “What kind of presentation is it?”

  My aunt waved a hand airily. "Other charitable organizations are always seeking money from us to fund their good works," she said. "Think of us as the bank and they spend the money, honey."

  “Okay, I’ll be there," I said.

  “Make sure you wear something suitable," my aunt said, giving me the once-over.

  "Like a kaftan?" I quipped before I could stop myself. I waited for a breathless moment to see how she responded. My time as a beloved Rose could be over in a millisecond.

  "I might have something in your size," she said, completely serious. "I'm just not sure how I would feel about you wearing images of my companions. They’re very personal to me."

  "Well, I wouldn’t dream of making you uncomfortable," I said, inwardly sighing with relief. "I'm sure I can find something in my own closet."

  I arrived for the meeting ten minutes early because Florian warned me not to be late. The boardroom was located at the back of the stately home, a few rooms down from my aunt’s office. The family sat around a large mahogany table. My cousins were present and accounted for, speaking to a short, squat man in a bowtie. His brown beard was packed with coarse hair and his long bushy mane was tied back in a ponytail.

  "Oh, good," Aster said. "Here’s our newest trustee now." She waved me over. “Ember Rose, I'd like you to meet our speaker this evening. This is Milo Jarvis, the president of Big Dreams."

  I crossed the room to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jarvis." He had to be a dwarf. He was too wide and hairy to be a leprechaun and too human-looking to be a troll.

  Simon, my aunt’s butler, entered the room with a tray of refreshments and set them on a sideboard.

  "Fabulous," Aunt Hyacinth said. "Thank you, Simon." As imperious as she was, I noticed that she always thanked her staff. She could teach me a thing or two about manners, that was for sure.

  "Everybody grab a drink, and we can get started," Florian said.

  Just as everyone settled in their chairs and Milo took his place at the front of the room, the boardroom door swung open to reveal Wyatt Nash. He wore ripped jeans and a T-shirt that read Keep Calm, I’m a Werewolf.

  Linnea made a sound of displeasure. "Wyatt, what do you think you’re doing here?"

  "There's a board meeting. Why wouldn't I be here?" The werewolf sauntered into the room and took the empty seat beside me.

  “Since when do you take an interest in the activities of the Rose Foundation?" Aunt Hyacinth asked. "You didn't even take an interest when you were married into the family."

  Wyatt placed his feet up on the table and rested his hands behind his head. "I'm acting as my children's representative until they come of age. Listen, I was perfectly happy to hang out at the Wishing Well and drink a few ales, but Hudson said there was a meeting. What kind of father would I be if I didn't show up for my kids?"

  I could hear Linnea grumbling under her breath.

  "As long as you sit here and remain silent, you are welcome to stay," Aunt Hyacinth said.

  "Mother!" Linnea said, her cheeks burning.

  "Technically, he is permitted to be here," Aunt Hyacinth said. "As long as he conducts himself in a gentlemanly manner, such as removing his feet from this two-hundred-year-old table, then I'm inclined not to make a fuss."

  Wyatt dropped his feet to the floor and straightened in his chair. He even folded his hands in front of him for good measure. I half expected a halo to appear above his head, cartoon style.

  Aunt Hyacinth nodded to Mr. Jarvis. “I apologize for the interruption. Why don't you get started, Milo?"

  Milo tugged on his bowtie. I could see beads of sweat forming on his brow. I didn't blame him. Public speaking wasn’t my thing either.

  "Thank you for having me today," Milo said. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Milo Jarvis and I’m the president of Big Dreams. We’re a charity that supports families in times of need or crisis. For example, we recently sent the Gunnar family on vacation to Mistfall. The father, Bjorn, is terminally ill and it was the last chance for the family to spend time together and develop happy memories to last a lifetime.”

  I’d heard of charities like that in the human world. What I wouldn't give for the opportunity to have more good memories of my father or Karl, my husband. Of course, in my case, their deaths were sudden and unexpected. There was no chance for quality time or a long goodbye.

  "We have fundraisers every year to raise money to continue our good works," Milo continued, "but it's foundations like yours that provide the bulk of the funding." He cleared his throat, clearly trying to quell his nerves. I wasn't sure whether he was always this
nervous when presenting or whether it was the intimidating presence of the Rose family. Aunt Hyacinth’s hospitality didn't fool anybody. She was a steel magnolia, as the southerners liked to say.

  As Milo moved to start the video, the laptop he was using disappeared.

  And so did his clothes.

  For a full thirty seconds, nobody reacted. I think we were all in shock, including Milo Jarvis. He stood there in all his dwarf glory, buck naked. At least he was short enough that the top of the table obscured a view of his lower half. His private parts remained, thankfully, private.

  Aunt Hyacinth was the first to gather her wits. "Milo, what is the meaning of this?"

  Milo's chubby hands flew to cover his exposed bits. His face turned bright red and he struggled to speak.

  Beside me, Wyatt erupted in laughter. "I've heard of ways of attracting investors, but this seems a little extreme.” He stood and peered over the edge of the table. “And I do mean little.”

  Linnea glared at him. “Wyatt, that’s enough.”

  Milo scanned the room, presumably for his clothes, but there was no sign of them.

  Aunt Hyacinth gesticulated and said, “Vestitus.”

  In the blink of an eye, Milo was fully clothed again. While it wasn't the same outfit, no one really cared. We were all just relieved that he was once again appropriately covered.

  I jumped to my feet. “Let me get you a drink, Mr. Jarvis.” I grabbed a glass of water from Simon’s tray and handed it to the embarrassed dwarf. He gulped it down and gave back the empty glass.

  "I am… I'm so sorry," he sputtered. "I don't understand what happened."

  Aunt Hyacinth took it in stride. "It's taken care of, Milo. Please go on. How much money do you need for the year?"

  I returned to my seat, wholly impressed that Milo was able to pull himself together and provide the numbers. I would’ve been huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth like a lunatic. He managed to speak eloquently about upcoming fundraisers and wishes they hoped to grant within the next six months. It was hard to hear about the difficulties the families faced. Sick children. Sheltering from abuse. I didn’t envy Milo. Even though he was able to provide these families with a sliver of light, it also meant he had to spend a lot of time glimpsing the darkness.

  "Thank you, Milo," my aunt said. "We'll discuss your request and get back to you within a week."

  He slung an empty computer bag over his shoulder. There was no sign of his laptop or his original clothes.

  "Thank you so much. Again, my deepest apologies. It isn't every day your worst nightmare comes true." He gave an awkward laugh and hurried from the room.

  Once he was safely out of earshot, Wyatt elbowed me. "So your first exposure to a dwarf was actual exposure. Lucky you.”

  "Wyatt, don't be horrible," Linnea said. Then she rolled her eyes. "What am I saying? You don't know how to be anything else."

  "What do you think happened?" I asked no one in particular. "He's a dwarf, right? Can they do magic?"

  Aunt Hyacinth sipped her cocktail. The witch seemed to have a drink for all occasions. “Not usually. Maybe someone was trying to sabotage his presentation."

  "Like a rival charity?" Aster asked. “That seems unusually cutthroat for a nonprofit.”

  Aunt Hyacinth shrugged. "You should all be grateful that you're seated where you are. I had no escape from the view."

  I suppressed a laugh.

  "His unexpected nudity aside," Aster said, "I vote in favor of funding."

  “I think he earned it," Wyatt said.

  "I agree," Aunt Hyacinth said. "I recommend funding. Does anyone object?" She looked around the table. No one said anything.

  "Perfect," she said. "I'll have Chester make the arrangements."

  "Who’s Chester?" I asked.

  "He’s the family accountant," Florian said. "If you ever need money in a pinch, Chester is the man to see."

  Aunt Hyacinth gave her son a pointed look. "I believe you'll find that I am the woman to see first, followed by Chester."

  Florian bowed his white-blond head. "Of course, Mother. That part is understood."

  She cocked her head. "Is it? Because Chester informed me that you came to him earlier this week about a down payment on a boat."

  Florian glanced around the room, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I think that's a conversation for another time."

  Aunt Hyacinth drained her glass. "I don't know about that. I think your siblings deserve to know how their portion of the estate is being spent."

  Wow. She was naming and shaming him in front of the whole family. Aunt Hyacinth had no qualms about shining the spotlight on her wayward son.

  "Florian already has a boat," Aster pointed out.

  "Yes, but this one is offered by a master craftsman,” Florian said. “Custom. She’s called The Laughing Princess.”

  Wyatt nodded his approval. "Sounds ideal to me. Let me know when and I’ll come and hang out with you.”

  Linnea narrowed her eyes at her ex-husband.

  "Florian, I must admit, I’m tired of seeing you lounging around like a vampire after a visit to the blood bank. Why don't you at least go work for one of these worthwhile charities? Make yourself useful for a change.” Aunt Hyacinth looked thoughtful. "I'll tell you what. If you spend at least one month working for a Starry Hollow organization—really working—then I will permit you to buy the boat."

  Florian's expression brightened. "You will?"

  Aunt Hyacinth rang one of her silver bells. "I will. Maybe it’s just a matter of getting into work mode again."

  Aster and Linnea voiced their displeasure.

  "Mother, this is ridiculous," Aster said. "Linnea and I work incredibly hard, and we don’t expect such over-the-top handouts."

  Simon appeared and began to collect the empty glasses.

  "I am the head of this household and it’s my decision," Aunt Hyacinth said firmly. "If this is how I choose to encourage my son, then so be it."

  Florian resisted the urge to look smug. "Thank you, Mother. I won't let you down."

  Aunt Hyacinth pursed her coral lips. “We'll see about that.”

  Chapter 2

  In the office the next day, I couldn't resist telling my colleagues about Milo Jarvis and his special presentation.

  Bentley, the elf who put the ‘ass’ in associate editor, looked mildly amused. "A dwarf on display? That gives a whole new meaning to shrinkage."

  Tanya's palm rested against her chest. "Bentley, have a heart. "That poor dwarf. He must've been mortified." As usual, the office manager fairy showed more compassion than Bentley or me.

  "I think anyone would have been mortified, except an exhibitionist," I said.

  "Speaking of exhibitions," Bentley said, “I’m covering an art show at one of the local galleries this evening. It should be a well-attended event.”

  Tanya clapped her hands together. ”Did you ask that delightful nymph to go with you?"

  My radar switched on. "Bentley, are you pursuing a young lady?"

  Tanya appeared only too happy too share the news. "He is, indeed. Her name is Meadow. They met online. They’ve been chatting for weeks now on MagicMirror.”

  “What’s MagicMirror?” I asked.

  “A platform where you can connect with paranormals anywhere in the world,” Tanya said. “I’ve reconnected with old school chums. It’s been an absolute treat.”

  “How did you connect with Meadow?” I asked.

  “We’re in the same group,” Bentley said reluctantly.

  “Which group?” I asked. I could tell he didn’t want me to know, which only made me more determined to find out. He really was the little brother I never had.

  “Propheteers—a group for fans of Alec Hale,” Tanya said.

  My eyes lit up. “There are online groups for Alec’s readers?”

  Bentley looked embarrassed by the admission. "Tanya, I don't tell you these things so that you can share them with the FNG.”

  Tanya
ignored him. “I’ve been encouraging him for ages to get out there and meet someone. He can't spend his formative years collecting dust in this office. We don't all have the longevity of Mr. Hale."

  “I’m fascinated by this on many levels,” I said, leaning my elbows on the desk. “Alec has a reader group on MagicMirror and Bentley is in it.”

  “There are several groups,” Tanya said. “I’m in the one for fairies over fifty. We’re very active.”

  I slapped my hands on the desk. “Okay, someone needs to set me up with a MagicMirror account. I read The Final Prophecy. I want to be a Propheteer.”

  Bentley scowled. “It’s for serious readers only.”

  “I am a serious reader,” I insisted. “In fact, I’ve moved straight on to book two.”

  “I’ll help you set it up,” Tanya said, much to Bentley’s dismay. “Alec will be so pleased. He likes me to update him on the numbers.”

  Bentley appeared surprised. “He does?”

  Tanya giggled. “He pretends to be disinterested, but he’s nosier than you think.”

  My mental gears were busy clicking away. “So Bentley, your first official date with Meadow will be tonight at the art gallery?”

  "Yes," Tanya answered for him. She seemed more excited about this than he did. "He's going to wear a striped tie that she sent to him. That way she'll know it's him.”

  "And what did you send to her?" I asked.

  Bentley hesitated. "A silk scarf with silver stars."

  That would be hard to miss. Suddenly, attending an artsy event sounded like a really good idea.

  "Can I go, too?" I asked.

  “I’m afraid not," Bentley said. "Arts and culture is my beat."

  “In that case, she can attend as my guest,” a voice said. Alec Hale stood behind us. Despite his six-foot-two frame, he managed to move with complete silence. He made ninjas sound like clumsy elephants.