Magic & Misfortune (Starry Hollow Witches Book 14) Read online

  Magic & Misfortune

  Starry Hollow Witches, Book 14

  Annabel Chase

  Red Palm Press LLC

  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

  Chapter 20

  Also by Annabel Chase

  Chapter One

  They say laughter is the best medicine and right now I was in danger of exceeding the dosage. I stood hunched over the kitchen island in Rose Cottage as I swapped childhood stories with my cousins, Linnea and Aster. My side was ready to burst open after their reenactment of a young Florian getting his hand literally caught in the cookie jar. His older sisters had spelled the jar to devour his hand the next time he tried to sneak a cookie.

  “Mercy,” I said as I tried to catch my breath.

  “Oh, good. That means it’s time for a present,” Linnea said.

  “You can’t be serious.” This would be the fourth gift from them this week. There’d also been a pair of designer shoes, a witchy tote bag with designated compartments for herbs, and an updated grimoire from a celebrity witch called Agatha who was apparently a Very Big Deal in magical circles.

  I unwrapped the box to reveal a travel wand. It was retractable and fit nicely in a small purse.

  “Isn’t it great?” Aster prompted.

  “It’s amazing and I love it, but please stop showering me with guilt gifts,” I insisted. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  “These aren’t guilt gifts,” Aster said. “If I see the perfect present for a loved one, I’m going to buy it. Why not share the wealth when we have the money?”

  “Those shoes cost more than a trip to DisneyWorld. If it’s not my birthday or I haven’t solved global warming, then there’s no reason to buy me gifts.”

  They fell silent, their guilt evident on their perfect faces. With their white-blond hair and sculptured features, there was a reason they were easily identifiable as descendants of the One True Witch. Unlike me, who was easily identifiable as a Target shopper.

  “My relationship with your mother is separate from the one I have with you. You’re not responsible for the rift between us.” Aunt Hyacinth and I were no longer on speaking terms, thanks to her destructive need for power and control. She’d been so enraged by my refusal to hand over the magic uncovered from our ancestor, Ivy, that she cut me off, canceled my tutors, and forced my boyfriend to fire me from my job as a reporter at the weekly newspaper. Needless to say, Alec Hale was no longer my boss or my boyfriend.

  Linnea swilled her wine. “We don’t want you to be deprived. You’re still a Rose, no matter what Mother says or does.”

  “I’m not deprived. I have money saved from Vox Populi and I’m starting my own business. Everything’s still coming up Roses.” I smiled to emphasize the pun.

  Linnea poured a third round of drinks and shook the empty wine bottle. “I think this is it, ladies. Good thing Sterling agreed to drop us off and pick us up.”

  “He knows us too well.” Aster giggled, a sure sign she was tipsy. My pearls-wearing cousin rarely giggled.

  “It’s for the best anyway,” I said. “Red wine has been giving me a headache lately.”

  “I’ve read that can be due to hormonal changes,” Aster said.

  “Well, I’m not pregnant and it’s far too early for menopause, so I’m not sure what hormonal changes they would be.”

  Linnea swiveled to toss the bottle into the recycling bin and missed. The glass landed on the kitchen floor with a solid thump.

  Aster shushed her sister loudly. “You’ll wake Marley.”

  I shook my head. “It would take a lot more than a soft thud to wake her.”

  My daughter had been asleep for at least an hour. She had a biology test in the morning and was determined to get a full ten hours of uninterrupted sleep. I felt a pang of sleep envy at the thought of uninterrupted sleep. I’d signed those rights away when I gave birth to Marley.

  “What if Aunt Hyacinth sees Sterling’s car when he comes to get you?” I asked. My cousins weren’t brave enough to openly defy their mother. Any interactions with me stayed below my aunt’s magical radar or there would be consequences.

  “It’s dark now,” Aster said. “Besides, Sterling glamoured the car when he dropped us off so it looked like a delivery truck. You know Mother has no interest in deliveries. That’s for the help to deal with.”

  I smiled. “Smart.”

  Linnea polished off her glass of wine. “I wish we didn’t have to sneak around.”

  “You don’t have to,” I pointed out. “You choose to.”

  “Can you imagine if Mother knew?” Aster shuddered.

  “I appreciate you finding inventive ways to visit me.”

  “We can’t always insist you visit us,” Linnea said. “The inn has been busy lately and I’d rather not have to divide my attention. When I’m with family, I want to be solely focused on all of you.”

  Linnea owned and operated Palmetto Inn, where she lived with her two children, Bryn and Hudson. Despite their magical pedigree, her children had inherited their father’s werewolf genes. Linnea and Wyatt Nash were no longer married, but they managed to have a civil relationship for the sake of their kids.

  My phone lit up with a text and I frowned at the message.

  “Is something wrong?” Aster asked.

  “Granger’s at the door.” According to the text, the sheriff didn’t want to knock because of the late hour. He knew PP3 would bark. Prescott Peabody III was my aging Yorkshire terrier with way more bark than bite.

  I left the kitchen and hurried to the front door to find out what prompted the presence of local law enforcement.

  Sheriff Granger Nash stood on my doorstep, illuminated by the glow of moonlight. His thick brown hair had grown out a bit since I last saw him, resulting in unruly waves, and his defined jawline had more of a nine-o’clock shadow. He wore his uniform, which meant he was here on official business.

  “Hey, stranger,” I greeted him.

  “I found something that belongs to you.”

  I glanced down to see Raoul, my raccoon familiar, face down on the welcome mat. “Is he conscious?”

  “Barely. I found him stumbling around in the street. Once he fell over a third time, I decided to intervene before he became roadkill.”

  “Is he injured?”

  “Only his liver as far as I can tell.”

  I nudged the raccoon with my foot.

  Pepperoni is my best friend, Raoul said, sounding dazed.

  “Did he get served at a bar?” It was unlikely. Raoul generally sourced his food from the garbage dump, unless I was paying.

  “We’ve had some hot, rainy days recently,” the sheriff said.

  Every so often, the magical weather bubble that protected Starry Hollow was pierced to let Mother Nature have her way. The most recent piercing resulted in the aforementioned hot, rainy days.

  “It’s the palm tree berries,” Linnea said.

  I spun around to face her. “The what?”

  “The berries that grow on palm trees. When it rained, the berries fell to the ground and fermented.”

  I turned back to the sheriff. “He’s drunk on be
rries?”

  The werewolf grinned. “Not just drunk. Stupid drunk.”

  I stared at the raccoon. “I guess I’ll carry him to bed and let him sleep it off.”

  “I drove around with him for a bit to help him sober up, but he kept rolling down the window and threatening to throw up on random residents. I stopped at a red light next to a bus stop and he didn’t like the shoes a fairy was wearing. He told her he’d do her a favor and vomit on them so she had an excuse to throw them away.”

  I stared at him. “How do you know all that? You can’t hear him.”

  “He mimed it. Very interesting choice of gestures, I might add.”

  I cringed. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Then he demanded we go through the drive-thru for tacos. He pointed with such force when we drove past, he nearly dislocated his shoulder.”

  I resisted the urge to smile. That sounded like Raoul. “Thank you for driving him here.”

  The sheriff eyed me closely. “I can carry him upstairs if you like. You look like you might’ve been indulging in a few berries yourself.”

  “Grapes of wrath, but yeah.” I motioned to my cousins. “I blame them.”

  His mouth twitched. “Wouldn’t want you to trip while you’re carrying him. You’ll both be hurting enough in the morning without physical injury.”

  The werewolf bent down and lifted Raoul, carrying him upstairs like a rag doll. I followed behind him and directed him to the spare bedroom.

  “You sure you don’t want to tuck him in next to you?” he teased.

  “Not if he’s threatening to vomit on everyone.”

  I flipped back the covers and the sheriff placed the raccoon on the bed. He tucked the sheet under the raccoon’s chin and smoothed out the creases.

  Half pepperoni and half sausage, Raoul murmured. Yes, just like that. More.

  I was relieved the sheriff couldn’t hear him. “I think we should leave him in peace before I overhear something I regret.”

  “You mean he regrets.”

  “No, I definitely mean me.” I hurried from the bedroom and closed the door behind us. “Seriously. Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if something bad happened to him.”

  “I consider it a public service.”

  We returned downstairs where Linnea and Aster had made themselves comfortable on the sofa. Aster handed me the glass of wine I’d left in the kitchen and I squeezed between them.

  “You’re welcome to join us, Granger, although the wine is gone,” Linnea said.

  “Not when I’m on duty, but I appreciate the offer. Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies.”

  “Tell Wyatt I need Hudson’s cleats for tomorrow,” Linnea said. “He keeps forgetting them.”

  Aster gave her sister a gentle smack. “Granger is not his brother’s keeper.”

  “Somebody ought to be. He needs one.” Linnea’s eyes were glassy now and she looked in danger of falling asleep on the sofa.

  “I’ll send him a text,” the sheriff said as he exited the cottage.

  “Talk about a keeper,” Linnea said. She emitted a deep sigh. “Oh, Ember.”

  I recoiled slightly. “Oh, what?”

  She patted my leg. “He’s still crazy about you.”

  “Because he delivered a drunk raccoon to my doorstep? You’ve got the crazy part right.”

  Aster wore a knowing smile. “Trust us. If Raoul wasn’t your familiar, Granger would’ve driven him to the woods and left him sleeping on a pile of leaves.”

  I gave an adamant shake of my head. “No. He’s the sheriff and he’s the most kind-hearted, compassionate paranormal I know. He’d do the same for anyone.”

  Linnea’s smile was smug. “You keep telling yourself that, sweetie.” She swiped the glass of wine from my hand and drank the rest.

  “We’re just friends,” I insisted, feeling unreasonably irritated. Probably the effects of the wine.

  Aster glanced at her phone. “Sterling is on his way. Thanks for a fun evening.”

  “Thanks for sneaking over. I appreciate the effort.”

  Linnea embraced me. “One of these days we’ll all be back at Thornhold for Sunday dinners.”

  “Not if your mother has anything to say about it.” And she basically had everything to say about it given that Thornhold was her house.

  “We’ll wear her down,” Aster assured me. “Give us time.”

  “Your mother is harder than glass. It would take centuries to turn her into a soft grain of sand.” And I wasn’t certain I wanted to reconcile under the circumstances. Aunt Hyacinth had hurt me deeply. It would take far more than an apology to make things right between us.

  “You’ll always be family,” Linnea said. “No matter what.”

  Aster stuck out her arms and wiggled her fingers. “Group hug.”

  Yep. She was tipsy all right. Aster was normally wound pretty tight so this was a refreshing change.

  Aster sniffed my hair before releasing me. “You smell like beef stew.”

  “Weird,” Linnea said.

  “Not really. I tried to heat leftovers for dinner and ended up using too much magic. The bowl exploded.” I shrugged. “I thought I managed to clean it all up, but I didn’t have time to shower.”

  Linnea snorted. “No wonder Granger is so drawn to you when you walk around smelling like that.”

  Aster suppressed a laugh. “She wears eau du boeuf.”

  My head was pounding by the time Sterling arrived to whisk them away. I dragged myself upstairs and stopped to check that Raoul was still breathing. The raccoon was now positioned sideways and tucked inside the pillowcase, using the pillow as a mattress.

  “Drunk on berries. Who does that?” I murmured.

  Shaking my aching head, I closed the door.

  Chapter Two

  What are you doing still in bed?

  I opened my eyes to see Raoul looming over me. “This is not the way I want to wake up in the morning.”

  It was either this or let you sleep until noon and we have too much work to do. Raoul nudged me with all four paws. Come on, sleepyhead. Time to make the donuts.

  I turned onto my side. “I need more rest. I was up early and took the dog out.” And then crawled straight back into bed.

  You can’t sulk for the rest of your life.

  “I’m not sulking. I’m sleeping. Or I was before I was rudely interrupted.” Relenting, I peeled back the covers and stood. “Where’s PP3?” The Yorkshire terrier was usually positioned somewhere on my bed when I was in it.

  On the sofa. That dog sleeps more than a bear in hibernation.

  “He’s old. He needs rest too.”

  Raoul scrambled to the floor. Marley left for school. Bonkers went with her.

  “Did she eat breakfast?” I asked as we ventured downstairs. Lately Marley had decided she wasn’t hungry in the mornings, which did not compute. I usually woke up ravenous and felt nauseous until I ate.

  She took a banana and said she’d eat it on the way there.

  It was better than nothing.

  I entered the kitchen to see Marley had made a pot of coffee and tidied up the mess I’d left the night before. I didn’t deserve her. I poured a mug of coffee and sat at the table, where Raoul awaited me like a CEO granting an interview.

  I’ve decided on a name for our new enterprise.

  I snorted. “USS Enterprise?”

  He glared at me from beneath his furry brow. R&R Investigations.

  “R&R makes it sound like we’re a railroad.”

  Does not.

  “Or that we’re in the business of rest and relaxation.” Which I didn’t object to.

  Raoul rolled his beady eyes. It stands for Raoul & Rose.

  I glanced at him. “Or Rose & Raoul. What about Ember & Raoul?”

  Then it’s E.R. We don’t want clients to associate us with the hospital. That’s too negative.

  What had become of my life that I was taking marketing advice from a raccoon? “Fine. R&R Investigatio
ns it is.”

  That way if Marley ever wants to join the family business, we don’t have to order new business cards.

  “Marley is going to cure cancer or be the first witch on the moon. She won’t be joining any family business.”

  Raoul whistled. You sure you want to set a bar that high for your kid? That’s a lot of pressure.

  “She puts more pressure on herself than I’d ever be capable of.”

  What about our logo? I envision a slice of pizza with a magnifying glass over pepperoni that looks like an eye. That tells the client both what we do and what kind of payment we accept.

  “I hate to break it to you, but we are not accepting payment in the form of pepperoni pizza.”

  The raccoon leaned back and assessed me. This is a partnership, remember?

  “Money is a smarter business decision because it’s more versatile. Money buys pizza and also pays bills.”

  He folded his arms and huffed. Fine. Play the versatility card. But that pizza box can also double as a notepad, so you’re basically getting food plus office supplies. I consider it a win.

  “I think we need a less…unique logo.” Marley was my budding artist. I’d ask her for suggestions after school. “Before I forget, you should give the sheriff a thank you gift.”

  For what?

  “He found you stumbling in the street last night. You could’ve been killed if he hadn’t brought you here.”

  Huh. I was wondering how I got here. I had a dream I floated on an island of trash in the ocean. He tapped his paw on the table. So should I wrap you up with a bow and leave you on his doorstep?

  “Haha. You’re hilarious.”

  I think I’ll go rummage now before rush hour. The early raccoon gets the best treasure.

  I was curious to see what he’d unearth for the sheriff at the dump.