Magic & Monsters (Starry Hollow Witches Book 12) Read online

  “In case I need to pretend to be a ghost for Halloween? What’s the point?”

  Marigold shrugged. “It’s one of the rarer abilities. She likes the idea of her niece possessing unusual talents so she can boast at the coven meetings.”

  I waved a hand. “I don’t want to astral project. Been there. Got the transparent T-shirt.” I paused, thinking about what I said. “Okay, that doesn’t quite work, but you get the idea.”

  She heaved an impatient sigh. “Fine. Which ability would you like to explore today, Ember?”

  I motioned between us. “I want you to Freaky Friday me. For the uninformed, that’s a movie where a mom and daughter switch bodies. It’s hilarious.”

  “Why would you want that? I would think the idea of occupying an older witch’s body would terrify you.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t be my first choice, but I love that movie so much. I want to see if we can actually do it so I can tell Marley.” She was a big fan of the movie too.

  “We don’t have much time and it’s challenging.” Marigold played with the bracelet on her wrist as she mulled over the request. “On the other hand, I suppose your aunt would be pleased that you’re aiming higher than the sofa.”

  My head bobbed up and down. “Yes. She’d appreciate that I’m making an effort.”

  “Fine, but if you can’t manage it then we need to tick astral projection off today’s list. We need to hold hands for this one.” Marigold crossed the clearing to clasp my hands in hers.

  “Do we? Or is this just as an excuse to get close to me?”

  “If this goes well, we’ll be closer than you ever thought possible.” Her wicked grin made me swallow hard. This suddenly seemed like a bad idea. Maybe I should’ve stuck with Casper magic. What if we got stuck and couldn’t swap back?

  “Do I repeat an incantation or what?”

  Marigold shushed me. “I’ll tell you in a second, Miss Impatient. I’m getting centered.” She closed her eyes and I noticed the lines across her forehead deepen.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Her eyes remained closed. “Nothing.”

  “Liar. Your forehead looks like a toddler’s Etch A Sketch.”

  She squeezed my hands in an effort to silence me. “I’m trying to concentrate. Close your eyes.”

  I obeyed and tried to focus on my breathing. It wasn’t easy. I got distracted by every little sound in the woods. My metaphorical squirrels were now actual ones. Scampering. Singing. Rustling. Whatever the woodland creatures were doing, I was tuned in.

  “Feel the magic flow between us,” Marigold said in a quiet, soothing voice. It was a far cry from her usual bossy tone.

  “No Latin?” I queried.

  “Shh. No more talking unless I tell you to repeat after me.”

  Aaaand there was the bossy witch I knew and tolerated.

  “Mutatio, duo, corporis,” she chanted and squeezed my hands to indicate I should join in.

  Energy tickled my palms before spreading to the rest of my extremities. I felt a snap! and our hands released. I took a wobbly step back and realized that I was looking at—

  Myself.

  “Holy Lindsay Lohan,” I breathed. “It worked.”

  She—I—looked down to confirm. “I’m actually shocked we succeeded. I thought for sure it would be a dud.”

  “Is my voice really that nasal? I sound much sexier in my own head.”

  Marigold didn’t reply. She stared at my hands with a strange intensity.

  “They’re just hands, Marigold. You have two of them.” I waved mine at her and I immediately felt a stab of pain in the thumb joint. “Sheesh. Arthritis too? You’re falling apart at the seams.”

  “We need to switch back. Now.” Her tone startled me. She grabbed my hands and repeated the spell to return us to our respective bodies.

  I felt another snap! and knew without looking that I was home again. My body really was my temple.

  “That was short-lived fun,” I said. “What happened? You missed your tight hip flexors too much? You should really consider yoga.” Not that I was one to talk. I walked around like a wooden plank with feet.

  Marigold seemed at a loss for words. “Ember.” She hesitated. “Never mind. We should go. You don’t want to be late for Winston York. He’s as old as the hills. You might never get another chance.”

  I wanted to inquire about her odd reaction to the spell, but I could tell she wasn’t in the frame of mind to discuss the issue.

  “Okay, let me run back into the cottage first. I need a snack.”

  She scrutinized me. “If you needed a snack, you should’ve gotten one before our lesson.”

  I hurried back toward the cottage with Marigold beside me. “I always eat after our lesson. I can’t change my appetite for one interview.”

  “No, but you won’t starve if you skip it either.”

  I glared at her. “Hey, you’re the one who insisted we do the lesson. We could’ve skipped that and I could’ve enjoyed a nice, long snack.” I flung open the door to the cottage.

  “And risk your aunt’s wrath? I don’t think so. You know she expects a report.”

  “Still?” I breezed into the kitchen with Marigold hot on my heels. “You’d think by now she’d let it go.”

  “When have you known your aunt to let anything go? She’s like PP3 with a laundered sock.”

  Fair enough. I raided the refrigerator for something I could inhale quickly and settled on leftover shrimp and cocktail sauce. There were benefits to living in a coastal town and the food was definitely one of them.

  “Why not make something up?” I asked. I swiped the shrimp across the top of the sauce and popped it into my mouth.

  “What if I suggested that to you? Don’t worry about interviewing Winston York, just make something up!”

  “He’s a recluse. Who would know?” I gobbled down a couple more shrimp.

  “It’s a moot point now. You’ve completed the lesson.” Marigold’s hand hovered over the shrimp. “May I?”

  I flicked my hand in the bowl’s direction. “Go for it.”

  A knock on the door took me by surprise. “Come in!” I shoved one last shrimp into my mouth.

  My cousin Florian appeared in the kitchen holding a cardboard box. “Oh, good. You’re here. I need your input.” He set the box on the counter and pulled out a purple T-shirt. “I have a few options and I’d like your input.”

  I studied the T-shirt with its image of an adorable smiling serpent with a hawk head wearing sunglasses. The text read Trippin’ with Tepen.

  “How in the world did you get those printed so fast?” I asked.

  He tossed the purple top to me and pulled a green T-shirt from the box. It bore a similar image except, instead of sunglasses, the creature was coiled around a cocktail glass and the text read It’s Tepen Time Somewhere.

  “Wow,” I said. “You’ve been busy.”

  “I figure we can set up a kiosk at the beach and sell them. More money for the tourism board.”

  “They are superb,” Marigold said. “I’d take one of each.”

  “Thanks.” Florian beamed at the older witch. “Mother said they were banal and pedestrian, but she’s not our target customer, is she?”

  “She’s no one’s target customer,” I muttered. “Listen, you know I love a good T-shirt comparison as much as the next person, but I need to get to the beach and interview Winston York.”

  He brightened. “Can I come?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m running late as it is.”

  “I’ll drive,” he said. “My car is much faster than yours.”

  “Deal.”

  We left the cottage and I slid into Florian’s sleek and shiny convertible. “When did you get this one?” I asked.

  “Do you like it?” he asked. “I got tired of the other one, so Mother agreed to foot the bill for a new one.”

  So much for trying to despoil him. “What happens when Mother gets tired of footing the bill for you
? Will she trade you in for another son?”

  In the seat behind me, Marigold strangled a laugh.

  The wheels kicked up dirt as Florian sped down the dirt path away from the cottage. We passed Thornhold and I spotted Aunt Hyacinth berating a gardener on the veranda.

  “Maybe we should put the top up,” I said.

  Florian responded by turning up the radio. Unfortunately, he took the turn onto the main road a little too fast, a move that caught the attention of local authorities. The red flight flashed behind us and I sank against the seat.

  “Now I’m really late,” I mumbled.

  Deputy Bolan sauntered up to the driver’s side door with a smirk. The leprechaun seemed especially pleased when he saw the car’s occupants.

  “Whatever you’re going to do, can you do it quickly?” I asked. “I have somewhere to be.”

  “A chauffeur and an entourage,” the deputy said, his gaze flicking to Marigold in the backseat.

  “Florian is giving me a ride because his car is faster than mine.”

  “Clearly.”

  “I’m trying to get to an assignment for the newspaper,” I said. “It’s urgent.” I rustled through the box at my feet and yanked up a T-shirt triumphantly. “See? There’s a tepen and Winston York has emerged from retirement to cover the event.”

  His beady leprechaun eyes widened to the size of a popcorn kernel. “Are you serious? Why haven’t I heard about this?”

  “Because no one tells you anything,” I said. “That’s what happens when you’re so judgy.”

  He glowered at me.

  “Is he getting a ticket or what?” I pressed.

  Florian turned to me. “Hey! No need to pester him.”

  “Don’t worry, Rose-Muldoon. I won’t punish you. You can’t help who you’re related to.”

  “Amen to that,” I said.

  Deputy Bolan tapped the top edge of the door. “Just drive more carefully.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  As soon as the leprechaun walked away, I smacked Florian’s arm. “Pedal to the metal, cousin.”

  The pealing of wheels was probably the wrong way to demonstrate driving more carefully, but I didn’t care. I was already late and I didn’t want word to get back to Alec or worse—Aunt Hyacinth. It wouldn’t matter that Florian was behind the wheel. It would be all my fault.

  We arrived at Balefire Beach and I opened the door before Florian finished parking the car.

  “Now you want to rush?” Marigold shook her head and opened the car door.

  “I’m running ahead.” I bolted for the beach, kicking off my shoes when I reached the sand.

  In the distance I saw a portly man in a white shirt and matching trousers on the beach. Not the ruggedly handsome older man I expected based on Marigold’s description. I should’ve known better. His thinning hair was stark white and it was only when we got closer that I realized he was barefoot. So he was eccentric on top of everything else. Excellent.

  “Mr. York, hi. I’m Ember Rose.” I stuck out my hand. “Sorry I’m late.”

  He gave my hand a reluctant shake. “Nature waits for no one, Miss Rose, no matter what her pedigree is.”

  My pedigree? I was competing for Best in Show now? “I wasn’t late because I have entitlement issues.”

  The older man fixed me with a withering stare that would have given Aunt Hyacinth a run for her money. “Oh, no? Then what other reason is there?”

  I struggled for a good answer. “I have organizational issues. I’m chronically late.”

  “I see. A sign of disrespect and contempt.”

  Florian and Marigold arrived behind us and I suddenly wished the beach would turn into quicksand. I bet there was a spell for that.

  “Um, Mr. York, this is my cousin, Florian, and our coven’s Mistress of Psychic Skills, Marigold.”

  The creature hunter didn’t crack a smile. “I have a busy schedule today so that I can adequately prepare. I don’t like an audience.”

  “Oh, I know.” Marigold placed a friendly hand on his arm. “I’m a huge fan, Mr. York. I’ve followed every update you’ve ever done with keen eyes.” She stroked his arm. “And I am so pleased that you’ve decided to come out of retirement.”

  “It’s only temporary,” he said, easing out of reach. “I’m here to capture footage of a rare and wonderful creature and then I’m returning to my hovel to toil away the rest of my days in my workshop while my wife complains about the mess I’ve left.”

  Florian snorted. “Sounds about right.”

  Winston gave him an appraising look. “Are you married young man?”

  Marigold and I burst into laughter and Florian’s cheeks colored. “No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t met my match yet.”

  “I’m waiting for him to discover his reflection,” I said.

  The wizard shot me a deadly look. “And where is the tepen?” he asked.

  “Not here, unfortunately,” Winston said. “I’ve made notes and I’m planning to record in this area before moving on to the next spot.”

  “I’d love to help if you need a hand,” Marigold said. “I’m very handsy…I mean, handy.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

  “I’ve been doing this for a long time. I can manage on my own, thank you.” He peered at me. “Should we get on with this interview before I lose the light?”

  Lose the light? We were hours away from sunset. I removed my phone from my handbag where I’d made notes of my questions.

  “Okay, Mr. York. Let’s begin.”

  Chapter Three

  That evening, Alec came over after Marley went to bed. He’d been invited for dinner but had declined so that he could finish editing a chapter. Even now as I sat at the dining table and tried to make sense of Ivy Rose’s Book of Shadows, the vampire sat across from me with his laptop open.

  “And how is Marley getting on at the academy?” he asked, his eyes still on the screen. Once Marley came into her magic, she transferred to attend the prestigious Black Hat Academy with the other witches and wizards of Starry Hollow.

  “Okay, I guess. She doesn’t talk to me as much about school as she used to.”

  His gaze flicked to me. “You don’t worry that signals an issue?”

  “No, I think that signals a young woman who is gaining independence and needs her privacy.” I scanned another page of the book and tried to make sense of its contents. I’d thought that once I cracked open my ancestor’s Book of Shadows that all my questions would be answered, but it only seemed to raise more.

  “How is your article on Winston York coming along?” he asked.

  “I still need to start writing it.” I didn’t miss his dissatisfied expression. “What’s the matter? I told you that I’m meeting him again in the morning.” After showing me a set of tracks and sharing details of his early career, he’d asked me to leave and come back in the morning so that he could get back to work.

  “Yes, but you don’t need a second meeting in order to start the article.”

  “It’s not like the article is due in the morning. Why does it matter?”

  “Because you have a tendency to leave everything to the last minute and then stress yourself unnecessarily.” He gestured to the book. “For example, why are you reading for pleasure when you could be completing the first draft?”

  A twisted ball of guilt and annoyance solidified in my stomach. “This isn’t pleasure. I try to study Ivy’s book when Marley’s not around. I’m usually too busy during the days so this is my only opportunity.”

  “Why can’t Marley be a part of it? Ivy is her ancestor too.”

  “Because I don’t know what I’m going to find. I told you that some of the stories are distressing. I’ve had nightmares.” Ivy had been a powerful High Priestess who was eventually stripped of her title and her magic. Thanks to Aunt Hyacinth, Marley owned the wand that once belonged to Ivy, as well as the grimoire, and I’d discovered her Book of Shadows buried in the g
arden. Ivy had been feared for her immense power and eventually cast out of the coven. I didn’t think handing it all over to a young girl was such a hot idea.

  “Then set it aside and do the work that actually needs to get done. That article won’t write itself.” I heard the clickety clack of the keys as he continued typing while he lectured me. “I could have easily given the assignment to Bentley, but I assumed you could handle it.”

  I closed the Book of Shadows with a heavy thud. “I can handle it.”

  “It doesn’t appear to be the case from where I’m sitting.”

  “And you’re sitting where you always sit. In front of the computer. If your face isn’t glowing from the light of a screen, I hardly recognize you.”

  He closed the lid of his laptop and sighed. “Don’t deflect. We’re talking about you. Perhaps you should consider making a list of all your tasks that need to be completed each day and tick them off as you finish. That might keep you on track.”

  I stared at him and tried to tamp down my growing irritation. “Look, I’m sorry we can’t all be wound as tight as a yo-yo, but I’m doing my best.”

  “I think if perhaps you prioritized…” A weak sigh of exasperation passed his lips. Those full, sexy lips that I wished were kissing me instead of criticizing me.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I have a lot on my plate.” I knew I didn’t have it as rough as I used to, but that didn’t mean everything fell easily into place. I felt pulled in a dozen different directions on any given day and it was overwhelming. “I can start working on the article tonight.”

  He eyed me curiously. “And when will you do this? After I leave? It will be past midnight.”

  I rubbed my hands over my face, already feeling tired and cranky. “I’ll get it done, Alec. I’m an adult. You don’t need to micromanage me.”

  “I didn’t intend for this to interfere with our evening.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t have raised the issue. It could’ve waited until we were actually in the office instead of in my house enjoying each other’s company for the first time in a week.” Okay, my efforts to leash my irritation had officially failed. “Are you ready to watch the movie?”