All Spell Breaks Loose Read online

  “It sounds wonderful,” Edgar agreed. “I would love to join you there one day.”

  “What about you, Killian?” I asked. The younger vampire remained quiet.

  “I’d like to break the curse,” he said. “Get the chance to meet more paranormals.”

  I fixed my gaze on Demetrius. “And you?”

  He seemed surprised that I’d question him. “Of course, I do. Not that I’m interested in going anywhere permanently. It would be nice to take Begonia on a holiday, though. Special treatment for a special witch.”

  My heart warmed. Anyone who treated my friend with such affection and devotion had to be okay.

  “And can you think of anyone who might want to mess with my memories?” I asked. The four vampires suddenly found the green of the golf course very interesting. I tapped my foot impatiently. “Fellas? A name, please?”

  Killian cleared his throat. “Where would you like us to start? Alphabetically?”

  I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. “There’s a…list?” No one had mentioned an actual list. I was on the verge of tears and felt ridiculous for it. “But Daniel said…I was under the impression everyone liked me.”

  Demetrius bit back a smile. “Most do, Emma, but you’ve made some enemies as well. That’s what happens when you go around town with a plucky, can-do attitude.”

  I scrunched my nose. “A plucky, can-do attitude? I sound annoying.”

  Demetrius patted me on the shoulder. “Not at all. You even have a key to the town. The mayor gave it to you.”

  “Yes, but she hates you now,” Edgar added.

  “Lucy hates me?” I queried. “I thought she was my friend. She’s officiating the wedding ceremony.”

  “Not Langtree,” Samson said. “Felicity Knightsbridge.”

  “Who’s that?” I queried.

  Edgar closed his eyes. “Oh, boy. You weren’t kidding about the memory loss.”

  “Knightsbridge is top of your list,” Killian said.

  “I thought she was under house arrest,” Edgar said.

  “She’s allowed visitors by appointment,” Demetrius told him. “She could easily be in cahoots with someone else.”

  “She’d absolutely love to ruin your wedding day,” Killian added. “Just like you ruined Elsa’s.”

  Elsa?

  “To be fair, Elsa was trying to marry Daniel under false pretenses,” Demetrius said. “Elsa deserved what she got.”

  Okay, this was a lot of information. “My life sounds pretty dramatic.”

  “At times,” Demetrius admitted.

  “So this spell may have nothing to do with breaking the curse,” I said. Lorenzo had suggested as much.

  “You might also want to check out the files in your office,” Killian said. “You’ve had a number of paranormals arrested. Maybe there’s an angry family member.”

  “I’ve had paranormals arrested?” I asked. “I’m a lawyer.”

  “You’re the town defense lawyer,” Samson said. “But you’ve also done quite a bit of investigating to help your clients. Sometimes that means unearthing the actual culprit and clearing your client’s name.”

  “And Hugo, the former sheriff,” Demetrius said. “He hates you for doing his job better than he did.”

  This was unsettling news.

  “Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions,” I said. “I appreciate it.” I hesitated for a moment, as a memory flashed in my mind. “Samson, how’s the disco ball?”

  He shot me a look of surprise. “You remember?”

  “Not exactly,” I said. “When I glanced at you now, an image of a disco ball appeared in my mind.”

  “It was Gareth’s,” Samson said. “You gave it to me after you moved in. It’s been a fabulous addition to my interior space. The light is sublime.”

  I smiled. “I’m glad it worked out for you.”

  Demetrius offered me his arm. “Come on, bride-to-be. I’ll walk you back to the clubhouse. No sense leaving you vulnerable when we don’t know who’s behind the spell.” He gestured to his friends. “Play on. I’ll catch up.”

  I hooked my arm through the vampire’s and we headed toward the building as Sedgwick flew overhead.

  That golf course is a smorgasbord. I really should go more often, my familiar said.

  I’m glad you found the trip useful.

  You didn’t?

  I have a few leads, but nothing concrete.

  Better than no leads at all, Sedgwick remarked.

  We arrived at the double doors and Demetrius gave me a peck on the cheek.

  “What was that for?” I asked.

  “For being you,” he said. “Even when you don’t remember who you are, you still seem to remember who you are, if that makes sense.”

  “Daniel made a similar comment.”

  “Good luck figuring this out in time for the wedding,” he said. “If anyone can, it’s you, Emma.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I tilted my head, studying him. “I hate to ask, but did we ever…? Were we ever involved?”

  His brow wrinkled. “What makes you ask that?”

  I didn’t know how to answer him. “When I look at you, I see watermelons. I wondered if we used to picnic together or something.”

  His laughter pierced the darkened silence.

  “I know it sounds ridiculous,” I said. “But the watermelons are suggestive.” I shook my head. “There seems to be a reason, but I can’t remember why.”

  He hugged me fiercely. “You don’t need to, Emma. I’ll remember for both of us.”

  Chapter 7

  The next morning I found myself in an unexpected therapy session. Gareth roused me with an alarming screech when he realized the day and time. Apparently, my therapist did not take kindly to missed sessions, no matter what the reason, and Gareth didn’t want me to get on her bad side. She sounded less like a therapist and more like a mother-in-law, but I decided to go along with his paranoia.

  The plaque on the door read: Dr. Catherine Hall.

  “Come in, Emma,” Dr. Hall called, “before this corpse rots.”

  I hovered in the doorway, uncertain. She was my therapist?

  I took a few hesitant steps inside and closed the door behind me. “Before we start, I need to tell you that I don’t remember you.”

  “Lewis told me,” she replied. “I wasn’t sure whether to expect you or not, so I kept your session free in case.”

  “Lewis?”

  “Lord Gilder,” she said.

  Oh.

  I sat on the couch and tried to make myself comfortable. “So, what do we talk about when I’m here?” I’d never had therapy in the human world, so I couldn’t imagine what I’d need to discuss with a vampire therapist in Spellbound.

  “You tell me I’m fabulous and that my hair looks incredible.”

  “That doesn’t sound like me,” I said.

  “Right. Because you withhold affection from those you care about.”

  I stiffened. “Do I? Is that one of my hang-ups?”

  Dr. Hall clapped her hands. “Ooh, this session is going to be fun. I almost hope you don’t get your memories back.”

  “Are you sure you should say things like that to me?” I asked. “I’m your client.” And, presumably, here for reassurance or to feel better about myself.

  “Honey, this is our relationship,” Dr. Hall said. “I’m not going to play Thalia just because you’re in a temporary pickle.”

  At least she seemed confident that my situation was temporary. “Who’s Thalia?”

  Dr. Hall groaned. “That muse. Thinks she’s the gods’ gift to therapy. Everyone simply adores her.” She clutched her chest and pretended to snore. “Thalia’s such a bore.”

  “So, why do I need therapy?"

  Dr. Hall laughed. "Everyone needs therapy, doll. It just depends on whether they're willing to admit it.”

  She handed me a drink that smelled like alcohol. "What is this?” I asked. “Some kind of medicine?"

>   Dr. Hall cackled maniacally. "It's a cocktail, sweetness. You always have a drink when you come to a session."

  I gaped at her. "Am I an alcoholic? Are you my enabler?"

  Dr. Hall waved me off. "Absolutely not. You are tightly wound and it's the only thing that loosens those sealed lips of yours.”

  I didn't feel tightly wound, except for the kink in my neck. Hmm. Maybe I was tightly wound. “You know what? I’ve never been able to touch my toes.”

  Dr. Hall rolled her eyes. “Sweet goddess of the moon. Not that story again. Yes, I know, Emma. You’re a terrible breather and you can’t do yoga to save your life.” She made a huge imaginary check in the air with her finger. “Duly noted.”

  “Do I have problems? I know I'm getting married and everyone says we have a perfect relationship. That we’re soulmates."

  Dr. Hall tipped back her glass and sucked it dry. "Yes, yes. You two are magical special snowflakes together. Kismet. Fate. Yada yada."

  I arched an eyebrow. "Why do you sound skeptical?"

  "Because that's my job. I'm your therapist, not your cheerleader."

  "So I pay you to verbally abuse me? Is that how it works?"

  “You’re finally catching on.” She poured herself another drink at the bar. "To be honest, we like each other. I don't really know why, but it works for us. And if it weren't for you, I never would have reconnected with Lewis…Lord Gilder."

  Lord Gilder. “He sits on the council," I said.

  "Yes, Lewis is a bigwig in town. You know our whole back-story. Or at least you did when you had your memories. Suffice it to say, he and I enjoy a very active sex life thanks to you."

  I cringed. “Do our conversations always sound like this?" It seemed odd to discuss my therapist’s sex life during my therapy session.

  "Absolutely," Dr. Hall replied. "You love it when I tell you stories. I guarantee you leave every session that little bit wiser." She held her index finger and thumb about an inch apart.

  Huh. "So do we ever talk about me, or does the conversation always revolve around you? Is that the point of the sessions, that I learn something about me from listening to you?"

  Dr. Hall tipped back her drink. "Sounds about right.” She tapped the edge of her glass against her chin, thinking. "You do like to talk about your family, though. I tend to indulge you. I have a generous nature.”

  My chin jerked up. "My family? What about them?"

  "Well, you were hell-bent on getting your mother's letters, which you finally managed to do. You haven't told me what they say, so I can't advise you on that. I was under the impression that you’ve been avoiding reading them because you’re afraid of what you’ll find. It's called avoidance."

  I saw the packet of letters in the office when I wrote the notes for the council and Daniel. I’d have to remember to take a closer look at them when I had a chance.

  "What do you know about my mother?" And when did she write me letters? She died when I was only a child. I didn’t recall any letters.

  Dr. Hall regarded me carefully. “You know what? Why don't we wait and see if your memory comes back before we revisit all that? I think losing your memory is probably traumatizing enough."

  What did that mean? The information in my mother’s letters was traumatizing? Now I really wanted to read them.

  "Do you know any reason why someone would want me to lose my memories of Spellbound?” I figured if anyone had confidential information that might help me, it was my therapist. “Have I mentioned anything in my sessions that would help the sheriff figure this out?"

  "Sure, but we don't have that kind of time. Your sessions are too short for such a detailed analysis. But I'll say this much, the Emma Hart I know would never leave the investigation to the sheriff. Not that the Valkyrie isn't capable. But that's not your style. You always figure things out in the end. You’re a natural busybody.”

  Dr. Hall seemed to vacillate between complimenting me and criticizing me. Did I surround myself in Spellbound with paranormals that reminded me of my grandmother?

  “By myself?” I queried. “I don't have any help?"

  Dr. Hall contemplated the question. "Now that you mention it, you do have help, although not of an official nature. It's always a group effort with you and those remedial witch friends of yours.”

  “Begonia?” I asked.

  “That sounds right. And there are a few others. I can’t be bothered to memorize their names.”

  “Maybe they can help me with this.” I’d have to track them down.

  “I’m sure they will. They’re your bridesmaids. They won’t want those ugly dresses to go to waste.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Hall. That’s helpful.” Sort of.

  “Just remember that you would never sit back and leave the investigation in the sheriff's hands. You’re too proactive for that." She hesitated. "To be honest, it's one of the reasons I don’t mind you. Moxie is hard to come by, especially in a woman."

  "Moxie?" I repeated.

  "It means you have guts, honey. Not everyone can say that. That's how I know you'll come out of this okay."

  I was glad my therapist was certain, because I wasn’t so sure.

  Sedgwick was able to deliver a message to Begonia to call a group meeting. She picked me up at the house and drove me north, to the outskirts of town. The area was desolate.

  “We meet all the way out here?” I asked, surveying the barren landscape. “What’s wrong with the local coffee shop?” Thankfully, Demetrius had filled in Begonia on my plight, so I didn’t need to repeat the whole story.

  “Secret lairs are best kept out of the way,” she replied.

  We met in a secret lair? Were we supervillains?

  “Why do we have a secret lair?” I asked.

  She stopped the jalopy in front of a large boulder and we hopped out. I watched as she pressed her palms flat on the side of the boulder and said a few words.

  “They’re here,” someone called.

  I heard the scampering of feet. Three girls were already inside the lair, anxiously awaiting our arrival.

  “Emma,” a shorter girl said. She didn’t look older than thirteen. “How are you? Sophie’s mom told us what happened. Or what the council thinks may have happened.”

  “That’s Laurel,” Begonia said. “And Sophie and Millie.”

  I was still awestruck by the cavernous nature of the lair. I would never have guessed this room was on the other side of the boulder.

  “This space is fantastic,” I said. I continued to survey the cave, marveling at the enormous mirror on the wall. "Do we have a giant that visits us here? What's with the huge mirror?"

  "That's our magic mirror," Sophie said. “It’s your favorite thing in here.”

  "Why? What does it do?" I asked.

  "Magic mirror," Laurel said. "Play Wonder Woman."

  The mirror morphed into a movie screen. "Wow. That's so cool. I love that movie.”

  “We know,” Begonia said. "You’re the one who introduced us to Diana."

  "I did?" If only I could remember. My gaze shifted to a basket against the wall. "Are those dolls?" Weren’t we a bit old for toys?

  Millie eagerly retrieved a doll from the basket. "Voodoo dolls. We've had some fun with these."

  “Some of us have had more fun than others,” Begonia said. "Millie, tell her about the time…"

  Millie soured. "No need to rehash old stories, Begonia," she said. I'm sure Emma doesn't want to relive every old memory."

  I looked from Begonia to Millie. "I would if it was fun."

  Sophie stifled a laugh. "I think it was more fun for Demetrius."

  Now I was thoroughly confused. “What would that have to do with Demetrius?"

  “Don’t worry about it,” Begonia said. “It’s old news.”

  “Not to me,” I said. “Right now everything is new news.”

  "Gosh, Emma," Begonia said. "I feel like so much has happened since you came here. Your life has changed, but so has mine. I wouldn't be w
ith Demetrius now if it weren't for you."

  "Really? Did I introduce the two of you?" I seemed to be a regular matchmaker in Spellbound.

  "Sort of," Begonia replied. "We knew each other, but he never really noticed me until more recently. You were a big help with that."

  I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. Even though I didn't remember any of these acts of altruism, it was nice to know I appeared to be a good person. It would suck to lose my memories and find out everyone hated me.

  "How about you, Millie?" I asked. "Have I helped you get a boyfriend, too?"

  Millie’s lips formed a pout. "No, but we’re working on it. That's the goal for this year."

  I turned to Sophie. “And what about you?"

  Sophie blushed. "I've been seeing a bartender from the Horned Owl. His name is Ty and he's incredibly nice. You like him."

  “He’s a satyr,” Begonia added.

  "And you helped facilitate that relationship, too," Laurel added. "I'm still too young for dating, but I have no doubt you'll be instrumental in finding me the right partner."

  I laughed. “That's a lot of pressure." And some major vocabulary for a kid.

  Millie dropped to her knees to dig through the basket of dolls. “That’s odd. I can’t find your doll, Emma. I wanted to show her to you.”

  “Maybe I keep her at home now?” I queried.

  “No,” Millie insisted. “The dolls are always here. The secret lair is the safest place for them. We wouldn’t want them falling into the wrong hands.”

  “I guess we don’t want Lady Weatherby to see that we have one of her either,” I said, spotting the tiny twisted antler headdress in the pile.

  “Definitely not,” Sophie agreed. “Who knows what punishment she’d exact?”

  “Is she hard on us?” I asked.

  “She’s a tough coven leader,” Laurel said, “but an even tougher teacher.”

  “Lady Weatherby’s the reason we’re still in the remedial class,” Millie complained. “She basically wants us to prove we’re perfect witches before we’re allowed to advance.”

  “Which is ridiculous because the other witches in the coven didn’t have to meet such high standards,” Begonia added.

  “I know my parents have talked to Lady Weatherby and Professor Holmes about it,” Sophie said.