Magic & Misdeeds Read online

  Marley snatched a warm roll from the bread plate. “Will you give us all your insider tips? My mom and I are going to join the tournament tomorrow.”

  “That’s cool,” Lewis said. “We don’t see many mom and daughter duos at these events.”

  “I’m covering the tournament for the local paper,” I said, “so Marley convinced me that I’d write a better story if I actually participated.”

  “That’s not really how journalism works,” Clark said, chewing his roll with his mouth open. “You’re supposed to be an outside observer. It’s called perspective.”

  I resisted the urge to give his bony leprechaun leg a swift kick under the table. “I know that, Clark, but it’s not like it’s a hard-hitting news item.”

  “It’s a fluff piece,” Clark said. “I get it.”

  I bristled. “I’ve written plenty of serious articles.”

  “This is Starry Hollow,” Clark said. “I’ve seen your lighthouse restaurant and your aerial broomstick tour. I doubt it gets more serious here than which resident took home the blue ribbon for the annual homemade pie competition.”

  “And where are you from?” I asked. I didn’t get the sense that Lewis and Clark were products of a paranormal gangster’s paradise.

  “We’re from Charmed Corner,” Lewis said.

  I snorted. “Oh, yeah. That sounds like the criminal capital of the paranormal world right there,” I said.

  Marley seemed to sense my growing irritation because she plucked my phone from my handbag and opened the app. “It looks like we can add friends and keep track of each other’s progress. What are your user names so I can add you?”

  “An excellent suggestion,” Philip said. “I’m wilywizard10.”

  “Cleverclover,” Clark said.

  “And I’m gardendelight,” the gnome said. “What’s yours?”

  Marley’s brow wrinkled as she looked at the screen. “Mom, I think you missed a letter on our name.”

  She showed me the phone and I began to choke on the roll I’d been chewing.

  “What did you type?” Florian asked, grinning expectantly.

  I grabbed the phone from Marley and stuffed it back into my handbag. “Never mind.”

  Florian fished the phone out of my handbag. “Oh, wow. That’s unfortunate.” He surveyed the table. “Anybody know how to edit a user name?”

  “I don’t think you can once you’ve created it,” Clark said.

  “What did you do?” Hudson asked. The teenager seemed to smell blood in the water.

  I cleared my throat awkwardly. “I missed the letter ’t’ in thornybush,” I said. “I wanted to do a play on our name--Rose.”

  There was a momentary silence and then the snickers began in earnest.

  My cheeks flamed. “The keypad is so tiny on the screen,” I said. “I probably hit the backspace key by accident. My fingers always end up hitting the wrong spot.”

  “That never happens to me,” Florian said.

  Clark chuckled. “I can tell you’ll be a real pro at this game. I’ll be sure to wave to you from the winner’s platform.”

  “We might be able to use a spell to fix it,” Linnea said. “Let’s try after dinner, okay?”

  “I think you should leave it,” Florian said. “With all the guys playing this weekend, you could end up with a string of suitors.”

  “I’m already spoken for, thank you,” I said.

  “Where is Alec tonight?” Linnea asked. She turned to address her guests. “Alec Hale is one of our more famous residents. He’s the editor-in-chief of Vox Populi, the weekly paper, and he’s a best-selling fantasy author.”

  “I remember Alec,” Philip said. “A very solemn vampire, if I recall correctly.”

  “He has a great sense of humor once you get to know him,” I said, probably a little defensively. “He’s working on a book tonight, but he’s coming by the cottage later. He was feeling inspired this week so he jumped down the rabbit hole and stayed there.” My answer was partially true. The vampire also had a solo therapy appointment at dinnertime and I encouraged him not to cancel. It had taken too much effort to get him to commit to the appointment to let him bail for a family dinner. Couples counseling was all well and good, but the vampire had deep-seated issues that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with his early life.

  “He should try to get one of his books adapted into a game,” Florian said. “Wouldn’t that be cool?”

  “The only game I’m interested in right now is the one I plan to win,” Clark said.

  “Clark won the last WC tournament,” Lewis said. “As the defending champion, he’s feeling the pressure this weekend.”

  The leprechaun wrinkled his tiny nose. “I am not. I have every confidence I can get to the Emerald Chalice first.”

  “I’m sure everyone feels that way,” I said. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t bother participating.”

  Lewis smiled. “Not me. I know I won’t win, but I love to try anyway. And it’s fun to do stuff like this with Clark.”

  Clark’s hand launched into the air in triumph, still clutching his phone. “Got the bloodsucker!” He displayed the screenshot of his victory.

  “Look, Mom. Your china cabinet is in the background,” Bryn said.

  “It’s the augmented reality feature,” Lewis said. “Makes it seem like the target is really in the same place as you.”

  “That’s so cool,” Marley said.

  “I upload all my screenshots,” Clark said. “I get a lot of followers on social media that way.”

  Lewis smirked. “And he likes to show off.”

  Clark went straight back to swiping on his phone. “I need to keep these digits limber for tomorrow’s early start.”

  “Can I follow him on social media, Mom?” Marley asked.

  “Nope. You know the rules.” We’d already agreed that she was too young and that it was an unnecessary distraction.

  Clark whooped again. “Uncovered a hidden nest of vamps.”

  Lewis leaned over to see his friend’s screen. “Ooh, let me do that one.”

  “Congratulations,” I said. “You definitely seem to have the hang of the game.”

  “You can tell me that again on Monday afternoon,” Clark said. He set down his phone and wiggled his fingers. “Now, who’s going to pass me the mashed potatoes?”

  Chapter Two

  Marley and I left Palmetto House after dinner, trying to absorb the many tips we received from Philip and Lewis. Clark had disappeared after dessert for a solo practice session.

  “If you and Alec want to go out tonight, I’m sure Mrs. Babcock can watch me,” Marley said on the car ride home.

  “What makes you think I want to go out tonight?” I asked.

  “Florian mentioned an unofficial meetup at Balefire Beach,” Marley said. “You should probably go and talk to players for your article. Make a date out of it.”

  “I don’t need to go. I’m sure I’ll get enough material this weekend to write the story,” I said. I had to admit, though, the idea of going out was appealing. Recently, I’d been spending the bulk of my time in the triangle of work, motherhood, and Alec’s current hermitic existence.

  “I know you don’t need to go, but it might be fun.”

  “Honestly, I think Alec will want to stay in,” I said. “He had a long day.” And I wanted to be available to talk to him about his therapy session if he felt so inclined. I tapped my fingernails on the steering wheel. “You know what? It’s not terribly late. The three of us can play a game.” Not Wizards Connect though. I knew a game like that wouldn’t appeal to Alec.

  Marley perked up. “Really? But we won’t finish until past my bedtime.”

  “That’s more of an issue for you than me,” I said. Marley was the most routine-oriented child I knew.

  She wore a big smile as she straightened in her seat. “Okay, maybe just an hour. I’ll skip reading tonight.”

  While I knew other parents might cluck their tongues at
a child skipping their bedtime reading, I knew Marley would come to no harm. Books were her favorite pastime and one evening of Scrabble wasn’t going to ruin her.

  Alec was waiting by his car outside the cottage when we arrived. As always, the sight of the tall, handsome vampire made my heart skip a beat.

  He greeted me with a kiss on the lips. “I’m sorry I had to miss dinner. How did you find Philip?”

  “He’s pretty cool,” Marley said. “I can see why Aunt Hyacinth isn’t a fan though. He’s way too laidback.” She gave the vampire a hug. “We’re going to play Scrabble. Hope you’re up for the challenge.”

  She raced into the cottage to set up the game while I took PP3 out for a quick walk. Marley started yawning halfway into the game and decided to go to bed.

  “We have a big weekend with the tournament and I have homework,” she said. Her eyes were sleepy slits. “I should probably get a good night’s sleep.”

  I kissed her on the top of the head. “We’ll try not to disturb your beauty rest.”

  Marley hauled herself upstairs with the dog beside her.

  I smiled at Alec. “Alone at last. I’ll get more wine and the secret stash of cookies.”

  “You hide cookies from Marley?”

  “I have to. If she gives me that sweet, innocent look, I’ll hand over the whole tin and never get any.” I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the tin. When I returned, Alec had migrated to the sofa and stretched his long legs across the cushions. I set the tin on the coffee table and moved his legs to sit beneath them.

  “How was your therapy session?”

  “Fine,” came the unenthusiastic reply.

  “Did you actually talk or was it a staring contest?”

  “It would be no contest, Ember. I’m a vampire.” He paused for a beat. “There was a dialogue.”

  “That’s good.” I reached forward and opened the tin of cookies. They weren’t my best effort, but they were…an effort.

  His brow furrowed at the sight of them. “Chocolate chip?”

  “Sort of. I ran out of chips because apparently I’d been snacking on the bag late at night and forgot they were for recipes.”

  He peered closer. “Then what are the other ingredients?”

  “Whatever I had handy,” I said.

  He held one up to his mouth and hesitated. “The color is a little off.”

  “I ran out of milk so I may have substituted in Kahlua.” I smiled. “I’d like to say it would be my first time getting drunk on cookies.”

  He grinned back at me. “I’m sure this is a story I need to hear.”

  “I was in high school. Mistakes were made.” It was entirely possible that Marley had been conceived after indulging in a batch of Kahlua-based cookies.

  “Do you think I might be one of them?” Alec casually bit into the cookie, as though he’d asked whether the sky was blue.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This session with the therapist made me think.”

  “Good,” I said. “That’s the point. You need more introspection, but I wouldn’t start jumping to crazy conclusions. That’s my job.”

  Am I interrupting something? Raoul rounded the corner of the sofa.

  You’re always interrupting something. I noticed that he dragged a pizza box behind him. “Why are you bringing trash into the house?”

  This isn’t trash. It was a gift.

  Another one? Why have you been the recipient of so many gifts lately? The other day he’d offered me a can of organic lentils. The can had been severely dented but still sealed.

  Is it so strange that other animals like me? I’m adorable.

  I examined the outside of the box. “This says it’s Chicago-style deep dish. I thought you were partial to thin crust.”

  I’m partial to it, but I’m not going to look a gift pizza in the mouth. I’m going to put it IN my mouth. He tossed the box onto the coffee table and opened the lid, nearly knocking over the bottle of wine. Anybody hungry?

  “That’s kind of you,” Alec said. Although he couldn’t understand Raoul, the gesture was pretty obvious.

  I stared at the metal object in the box. “Why is there a fork in the box?”

  Raoul gave the fork a cursory glance. How did that get in there? Must’ve slipped in at the dump.

  “Raoul, were you using a fork to eat pizza?” I tried not to sound too accusatory, but this was the raccoon that once said that eating pizza with a knife and fork was grounds for immediate deportation.

  It’s deep dish! I couldn’t fold it in half or any of the things I’d normally do! He threw his paws in front of his face. I’ve never been so ashamed.

  “Not even when you used the toilet bowl to brush your teeth?”

  Not even then.

  I turned toward Alec. “I can get you a plate if you’re interested.”

  “No, thank you. Perhaps if there was something more exotic on offer like white cheese or pineapple.”

  The raccoon gaped at Alec, slack-jawed. Pineapple on pizza is an abomination. How do you live an eternity and not know this?

  “Raoul, would you mind taking your pizza elsewhere? Alec and I are in the middle of a private discussion.”

  Is Bonkers around?

  “I think she might be upstairs in Marley’s room, but everyone’s asleep.” I snapped my fingers. “No pizza upstairs though. You can put it in the kitchen and invite Bonkers down to share it.”

  So uptight, he grumbled.

  I glared at him. “What’s that?”

  I said I need to keep this box airtight. He slapped down the lid for good measure. Don’t want the pizza getting stale in the two minutes it takes me to run upstairs.

  The raccoon scrambled up the steps and I shifted my attention back to Alec. “Sorry about that. Now, what were you saying about your session? It got you thinking?”

  “Nothing monumental,” he said. “It’s getting late and you mentioned an early start. Why don’t we enjoy the wine?”

  I didn’t want to push the issue. I knew how Alec was. If he felt pressure, he’d withdraw and that was the opposite of what I wanted. I hoped he’d eventually feel comfortable enough to open up to me, but baby steps were okay.

  “Where is the wine?”

  “Oh, crap. I forgot.” I’d been too excited about the secret cookies. “Red or white?”

  He grinned. “Which do you think?”

  “Red it is.” I hurried into the kitchen, carrying the pizza box. While I uncorked a bottle and poured two glasses, Raoul and Bonkers entered the kitchen. “Is Marley asleep?”

  Yeah, she left the light on again.

  “That’s okay. Whatever gets her to sleep on her own. You two stay in here and give us privacy, please.”

  My pleasure. The last thing I need is to see you two sucking face. I’ll lose my appetite.

  I returned to the sofa and handed Alec a glass. “Sorry. Everything takes longer with an audience.”

  He laughed softly. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “We don’t have to talk about therapy if you’re not comfortable. Want to tell me about the book you’re working on?”

  “It’s a story,” he said. “With words.”

  “How illuminating.” I curled up next to him. “Will you let me read the first draft?”

  He kissed my forehead. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I have no idea how long this one will take.”

  “I guess you don’t have the same sense of urgency to finish a project when you’re immortal,” I said.

  “It takes however long it takes,” he said. “I prefer not to rush the story. I’d much rather it reveal itself to me.”

  “It’s a book, not a ghost.”

  “All stories have ghosts,” he said. “They’re just not always apparent to the reader.” He paused. “Or sometimes even the writer.”

  “You do sound very introspective tonight, Mr. Hale,” I said. “I smell progress in the air.”

  “I suppose that’s what thera
py is meant to do,” he said. He took a thoughtful sip of wine. “Speaking of progress, have you made any with Ivy?” As a descendant of the One True Witch and a High Priestess stripped of her title and her magic, Ivy Rose was one of my ancestors with a mysterious and unsavory story. My aunt had given Marley the wand that once belonged to Ivy, as well as the grimoire, and I’d discovered her Book of Shadows buried in the garden.

  “I still haven’t managed to open the Book of Shadows.” The book was heavily warded and, despite my best efforts, I’d been unable to open it. “Apparently, there are archives in the coven’s headquarters that might have information.” Magnus Destry, the High Priest, had offered to snoop for me for reasons of his own.

  “Excellent. Why haven’t you gone to retrieve it? I would think you’d be breaking down the door.”

  “It’s a restricted area and I’m not allowed in there,” I said. “And no one’s allowed to remove the contents.” Although Alec was the height of discretion, it still seemed best not to mention Magnus’s involvement.

  “You don’t wish to involve Hyacinth,” Alec said.

  I shook my head. “Not until I know more about Ivy.”

  “The event predates Vox Populi or I would check our records as well,” Alec said.

  “Thanks, I doubt the newspaper would have had the level of detail that the coven records will have though. I bet whatever happened doesn’t exactly make the coven look good and that’s why they hide the information.”

  “A familiar tale,” Alec said.

  “Is that why you withhold information?” I asked. I hadn’t intended to ask the question, but the words came tumbling out before I could stop them.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Are you afraid that, if you share too much about yourself, it will somehow tarnish my opinion of you?” I snuggled closer. “Because I promise that won’t happen. There’s nothing you can say that will make me think less of you.”

  He rubbed my arm with affection. “That’s kind of you to say. I should probably let you get some rest before your early start.” He leaned over and kissed me. “Sweet dreams.”

  “They’d be sweeter if you stayed.”