Hex Falls Cozy Mystery Collection Bks 1-3: Hex Falls Witch Cozy Mystery Series

By Ruby Rivers

The Hex Falls Paranormal Mystery Collection consists of 3 full-length humorous, paranormal cozy mysteries including:
Book 1 – Hopeless Pocus

Book 2 – Bedknobs & BroomHilda Sticks

Book 3 – Witchity, Glitchity, Boo

Born without supernatural powers, Violet Vance is content to live out her life as ordinary mortal...until the unthinkable happens.

Book 1:

A move to Hex Falls has the winds of change blowing. Next to her house, the falls flow backward. Then, Violet's fingers begin to twitch, and her nose to itch, and she's followed home by a talking fox who claims to be her familiar. Something strange is definately up here.

 

No one is more shocked than Violet's zany, over-protective aunts and cousin to discover what was about to happen next. But the slime really hits the cauldron when one of the locals employs Violet to resurrect their old falling down mansion...affectionately known as murder manor....and neglects to mention he needs her help with an age-old cold-case murder that occured on the premises. 

 

His own!

Book Two: All seems to be going to plan until it isn't, as Violet's aunts and cousin lauch their first-ever games night party up at their new (haunted) B&B, known as Hex Hall. A simple game of clue turns into a deadly endevor as the doors lock mysteriously shut and the guests start dropping like flies. How has the game gotten so quickly out of hand? And who is behind the caper? Can Violet solve the mystery before they all end up dead?

 

Book Three: Something is in the air...and it smells like witchcraft. Is Violet coming into her powers at last? A lesson in how to control her magic goes terrilbe wrong, ending in the death of a supernatural who just happened to be on the hunt for Violet. There's a price on Violet's head in the magical community, a bounty no one knew about,  and someone has come to collect. Could Violet's in-coming powers be more special than her family first thought?
If so, what does it mean for all of them? Meanwhile, a body goes missing from the local morgue--a strangely magical one. 

Suddenly, Violet and her family find themselves caught up in a real receipe for a magical disaster. 

Join Violet and her zany, over-protective family, and their slap-stick humor, as they muddle their way through mystery after mystery. From a game of Clue gone very wrong, to an accidental paranormal-world killing, the whodunnits just keep coming. Download this boxset of 3 full-length novels and settle in for a wild ride of crazy, rib-tickling fun!

Continue the Reading Fun in the Series with: 
Book 4 – Abracastabra 
Book 5 – In Charm's Way
Book 6 – Witchy, Glitzy, Glamor
Book 7 – The Poof! is in the Pudding
(This series is complete!)

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookMarked
• Release date: May 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227439581

Book preview

Hex Falls Cozy Mystery Collection

HEX FALLS COZY MYSTERY COLLECTION

Paranormal Witch Mystery Pack~Books 1-3

RUBY RIVERS

BookMarked

Contents

Hopeless Pocus:

Reader Note

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

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Epilogue

Bedknobs & Broomhilda Sticks

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

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Witchity, Glitchity, Boo

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

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Hopeless Pocus:

Copyright © 2020 by Ruby Rivers

Hopeless Pocus: A Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery, Published by BOOKMARKED, Ontario, Canada

All rights reserved.

Hopeless Pocus: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery novel, 1st edition, published: March 6, 2020

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including downloading, photocopying, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review, or by the media, with any quotation not to exceed 10% of the content.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, any resemblance to actual events and/or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Reader Note

Hel-loo!

WELCOME TO THE HEX FALLS COZY MYSTERY COLLECTION.

This box set includes books 1-3 of the Hex Falls Cozy Witch Mystery Series.

My books are professionally edited and proofread, but mistakes still happen. I find typos are like fleas. You don’t see them, until you see them. Pesky little things. So if you happen to spot one, please be kind and drop me a note here, and I will make the change.

Otherwise, enjoy the stories!

Thank you for choosing to read my books.

I appreciate it more than you know.

Ruby

Chapter One

The move to Hex Falls was supposed to be for me, about me — and only me .

Not them.

It was my chance to get away from their meddling, overprotective presence and start a new life after my old one had gone up in flames. You see, I’d recently been fired from my dream job as the rookie crime investigator on the force—the only crime investigator in the force’s history unable to spot a single clue.

It was the strangest thing, really, as if the moment I took the job, every intuitive cell in my body magically dried up. It was like all my years of training had just hopped on a broomstick and flown away.

Or…

Someone cast a spell over me rendering me totally, utterly, and cluelessly incompetent. Wait a minute. I think I might know that someone. I check the sky, wary. Or someones. I tap my chin. Naaah, they would never do that. Would they?

I gulp.

Anyway, the long and the short of it is, I couldn’t solve a mystery if you served one up to me on a platter. And in the end, it was strongly suggested that I stop trying to do so. Forever.

Big sigh.

So here I am, about to start my life over in a shiny new town, with a new attitude and perky new profession. Far, far away from the influence of my overbearing, overprotective, incredibly meddlesome paranormal relatives. I still can’t believe I’ve broken free from their grasp. They’ve been hovering over me since my parents died when I was a very young child. Always coddling me and sticking their noses in my business. But at thirty-three, it’s enough already.

Time for me to live my own life.

So what if I was born the only non-paranormal being in our paranormal family for the last one hundred years. Beat that for odds, btw. There’s nothing that can be done about it, so I just need to soldier on. Enough of wishing I could spell all my troubles away. It’s just not in the tarot cards for Violet Imogene Vance. I was not born a witch, like my aunts, or a vampire, like my uncle, or even a fancy witch-vampire hybrid like my cousin Viv. No, no, no. Violet Imogene Vance was born a mere mortal.

And must now learn how to wholeheartedly embrace that mortalness.

More importantly, so do my relatives.

Yep, the only way to accomplish that—I’ve decided—is to sever the magical umbilical cord, once and for all. That doesn’t mean I don’t love them. I do. Almost as much as they love me—if that’s possible. But I just can’t take it anymore. I am not like them and they need to understand. I need my space. I need my freedom.

I need a date.

My mind shifts back to my boss-sergeant’s face, sitting across his desk from me, about to deliver the bad news. I sensed it wasn’t going to be good.

I just never dreamed it would be that bad.

Tell me, Ms. Vance, do you like what you do? He glared at me, his great balding head wrinkling, his broad, brawny chest about to pop loose a few buttons on his too-skimpy uniform, and all I could think was, why do guys wear them that tight? It can’t possibly be comfortable.

Ms. Vance, he said again.

"Oh. Yes! I do. Very much." My voice squeaked. I wasn’t usually a squeaker.

You’re sure there’s nothing else in the world you’d rather be doing? Anything, anything at all? He eyed me hard, and I felt the pressure.

You mean, other than police work?

"Specifically, other than police work."

I thought for a moment, gazing at the ceiling, then, Nope, I don’t think so⁠—

Think harder! he growled. He was clutching his folded hands so tightly now, his knuckles turning white.

Oookay… I stared back at the ceiling as if it had the answers, desperate to come up with something, anything. When truth be known all I’d ever wanted to do in my life was police work. "I may have once wanted to try my hand at interior design," I offered finally, wincing.

Great! Then take this and do that! My sergeant snapped to his feet, knocking his chair down, stuffing a severance paycheck in my hand. Then he turned me around and shoved me toward the door. Out it, actually. Good luck, Ms. Vance. It’s been a pleasure working with you. He pressed it shut. Oh, and… it is strongly suggested that you cease participation in any and all forms of investigational work until you depart this world. Buh-bye, now! He slammed the door.

And just like that.

My career was over.

Quicker than one of my family’s spells.

And along with it, my lifelong dream of becoming the world’s top criminal investigator—next to Batman, of course.

It makes me sniff just thinking about it.

The sting was unbearable.

But... life goes on.

So instead of looking forward to a lifetime spent solving the world’s most serious crimes, I’ll have to settle for wiping out the world’s most criminal decorating decisions. I sniff again.

There, there, Aunt Kit crooned when I broke the news, it’ll be all right. She swooped in petting my head, like my mother used to when I was sick. That job just wasn't for you. She petted my head again.

Aunt Kit is right, Aunt Kat jumped in. You’re bound for something so much greater in life. We all know that. Cousin Viv kicked her for some mysterious reason.

Kit jabbed her with a sharp elbow to the ribs, and she howled. What? We all know it’s true.

Know what?

But, of course, as per usual, they wouldn’t tell me.

Cousin Viv simply glared at the two of them then smiled sweetly at me. "It’ll all be all right is what they mean. Something far grander awaits your future," she said and smiled hard.

Oh, so it’s okay for you to hint, just not us. Is that it? Aunt Kat snapped her hands on her hips.

What was going on there?

What were they saying but not really telling me?

Like that was anything new. It had been thirty-three years of this. Whispered secrets told over my head. The constant leaving me out of the conversations, treating me like a child. Well, no more. I threw up my hands. I would be free of their silliness, at last.

And that’s how I ended up here, standing on a cliffside, next to a rushing waterfall, about to launch into my new life and career. I can’t wait to start up my new business as home decorating guru, in the tiny, scenic, sleepy little town of Hex Falls.

I know what you’re thinking; the name sounds paranormal.

But it’s not.

I checked.

In fact, there’s absolutely nothing paranormal about the place, except its name—I’ve been assured. Not a single paranormal bone in anyone’s body—including my own.

How refreshingly mortal.

Now, where was I? Oh yes… in a tiny town far, far away from my relatives, about to accept the keys to my new tiny house. Okay, so it’s all I could afford on my meager severance pay. But tiny houses are all the rage, don’t you know?

Anyway, my very ditzy, full-of-herself realtor stands next to me. The one who cannot stop talking. She’s digging in her purse for my keys. You’d think she’d have them ready.

I take a breath and try to enjoy the view, as she searches, glancing back at my tiny abode—all eight hundred square feet of it—then back at the cliffside it backs up to at the side of that lovely waterfall. I don’t know why, but I felt inexplicably drawn to the place the moment I drove up. I just knew I had to live here. I sigh.

I must say, I had my reservations about selling you this place, my realtor prattles on, still searching for my keys. You being out here all alone and everything.

Little does she realize, that is the plan.

But it looks like I won’t have to worry about that anymore.

Huh?

That’s right. You have new neighbors, she sings in the most annoying voice, tossing a light hand up and over her back.

I follow her perfectly French-manicured fingertip to the brink of the falls, where a daunting old stone structure looms over the edge of the waterfall, popping out from amid a mass of overgrown trees.

It was the strangest thing, really, she tells me, excitedly. "Hex Hall has been abandoned for over a hundred years, then you show up and buy this place and poof!"—she snaps her fingers—out of nowhere, the perfect buyers for it appear.

Imagine that. I grit my teeth.

I got an extra-fat bonus for selling that place too. She elbows me, winking, then admires her nail beds. It’s not every day an ancient, dilapidated, half-falling-down building with worn footings, sells for over asking, you know? She rocks back on her heels, batting her fake lashes, unabashedly proud of herself. "But it’s like I always say, it takes a seasoned realtor to accomplish that kind of close." She smirks and primps her hair.

Or three meddling old women on a mission to ruin what’s left of their relative’s life. I scowl, staring up.

They are three of the sweetest old ladies. You’re just gonna love them.

I bet.

A little eccentric, yes, but who isn’t in this town? Here are your keys. She flips them my way then hugs her clipboard to her chest.

These three women, do they have names?

Oh. Yes. She cracks open her clipboard and starts shuffling through papers. Here they are. She grins. "Endora Moorhead, a Samantha Stephens, and a Morticia Addams-son."

More commonly known as my aunts, Kit, Kat, and vamp-cousin Viv. I huff, still staring up.

They couldn't just let me have this, could they? They couldn’t just leave me alone. Had to swoop in and try to save the day, like always. Even when the day doesn’t need saving! Nothing like having a family of helicopter vampire witches!

Oh, and you should hear what they intend to do with the place. The realtor brings her hands together. They have the most delicious plans to turn it into a paranormal B’n’B, she trills. How apropos. Not that the place is haunted. If it wasn’t, it is now. I would never sell a haunted property to any client. The realtor waggles a stern finger in front of my face. "Well… not without first disclosing that, of course," she adds quickly, her cheeks flushing red.

Of course. I smile. Liar.

At any rate, a haunted bed and breakfast should go over smashingly in this town! She socks the air with a closed fist, like by-gosh-by-golly, you betcha! It’s so original and on theme. Oh yes… so never done before. So in tune with all the other small businesses in town who exploit the theme for money. She flicks her eyebrows up and down. The tourists really eat up that paranormal crap, you know?

Paranormal crap?

You wouldn’t believe what people pay to see a half-naked fake werewolf running through the woods. Or a fake witch burned at the stake in Hex Square. She laughs.

I gulp.

But, of course, Hex Falls wasn’t always this way. She presses a patriotic hand to her chest. We were once a thriving boomtown. Until the last of the chalk mines dried up and our economy along with it. She looks longingly down over the, now, tourist town—with its witch-broom carousel and familiars petting zoo—then off to the right, through a thicket of trees, to the site of the abandoned quarries. I’d hazard to guess what would have happened to us had our mayor not had the foresight to reimagine the town into the biggest paranormal tourism hub the world has ever seen. Her voice lifts steadily upward.

I strain to see the ugly gray craters left over from the process that scar the earth on the very border of town. What eerie symbols left cut into the ground? And in such perfect circles. Abandoned chalk mines, my chalky-white bottom.

Hul-lo, down below! a familiar voice calls out, and the day gets even better. I tip up my eyes to confirm my worst nightmare. Sure enough, there they are, my Aunts Kit, Kat, and Cousin Viv, all waving kerchiefs and hanging over a rail fence.

Speak of the devil; there they are now! The realtor’s head cranks up. Hullllooo! she trills back, like a bird answering a mating call. Raising a hand to her eyes, her expression flattens, as Aunt Kat leans farther out over the cliff. She really shouldn't do that, the realtor panics. The railings aren’t safe around here. She launches to her toes. Shoo, get back! she shouts, waving at her. You’re my witness if she falls. I tried to stop her. She turns and glares back at me.

Fancy meeting you here! Aunt Kat cups her mouth and shouts.

Yes, fancy that. I grimace, looking up.

You two know each other? The realtor looks perplexed.

Unfortunately, yes. I cross my arms.

Nice to see you too, dear, Cousin Viv shouts down over the noise of the falls. We’ll catch up with you, later!

Oh, I'm sure we will.

At that, all three clear from the fence rail, blowing me kisses and fluttering off to their new dwelling.

And I mean flutter.

Can I see my paperwork? I say to the realtor.

Whatever for? She blinks.

Perhaps if the ink isn’t dry yet, I can get out of this.

Chapter Two

Y ou know what this is? This is first-time home-buyer jitters. We all get them. You’ll be fine, she says, securely tucking the paperwork back into her purse and zipping it shut when I try to snag it from her. Now you have your keys, so I’ll be going. She turns on her heel about to leave, as a strange gust of wind picks up at our backs, blowing the water nearly back up the falls. What was that? She turns around, her hair flying. She looks around me, strands threading through her mouth.

I dunno, I say, looking back, wide-eyed. That’s never happened before now, has it? I turn to her.

Oh no, no, never? She gulps. I should go. Her eyes flash, startled, and she is away, her stiletto heels sticking in the grass as she runs. It’s been a pleasure doing business! she calls back over one shoulder, running, her skirt and hair twisting all around her now. You enjoy your new home now, you hear? she hollers, waving. Oh rats… I almost forgot. She doubles back. Here. She stuffs a sad-looking pot of half-wilted violets into my hands and looks at me. Welcome to your new home.

I stare down at the half-dead bunch of violets, my hair swirling around my head.

Violets for Violet, get it?

That part I got. Why they’re half-dead, I didn’t.

It’s a housewarming gift, silly. She blinks at me, her hair still swirling. It’s a tradition here in Hex Falls to present new homeowners with a bouquet of half-dead flowers. I blink. You know, because of the whole paranormal-marketing theme thing. She tilts her head and smiles at me sweetly. They say it’s unlucky to dish out fresh ones.

Well, we wouldn’t want more of that.

Thanks, I say. I lift the bouquet in a cheers-like fashion, and all the petals blow off.

Okay, well, that’s everything. Time for me to skedaddle. She turns and leaves, shouting over her shoulder, Enjoy the violets, Violet! She smiles then frowns. Oh, wait, there’s one more thing. She stalls. I'm to warn you about that. She points to the piece of broken-down fencing at the side of my property nearest the falls. You’re not to go near it. For any reason. Someone may or may not be out to try to fix it soon, she hollers over the increasing gusts of wind. Until then, stay away from it, okay? Rumor has it, several people have fallen to their deaths there. My eyes grow wide. Okay, I’ve told you. Total disclosure. Time to push off. Toodle-oo!

She whirls around and scuttles off down the driveway, her hair wrapping around her neck like a rope.

I stare back at the broken spot in the fence rail leading to what looks to be a death-defying drop. Good to know, I guess.

Ah! I hear her scream.

What is it? I launch after her.

The howl of the wind gets even louder. A howl I’ve heard before…

It’s, it’s—she stoops to examine something—"a rabbit’s foot. I think." She plucks it from the grass and her expression sours. Or rather, what's left of a rabbit’s foot. She squeals and drops the foot, flapping her hands and dancing around on the spot. Eew, eew, eew. It looked like it’d been torn right off the rabbit’s leg.

Hmmm, interesting. I tap my chin. Clancy? I say, looking around.

What was that? She stops and stares at me.

I said, fancy that happening. My voice lilts awkwardly upward. Clancy, if it is you, don’t you dare show yourself, I mutter to the air, under my breath.

The realtor scowls in my direction.

I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, I tell her, tossing up a casual hand. "Probably just left there by a stray dog or something…" Or a hellhound. I gulp, nervously scanning the premises again for any signs of my uncle’s pet. Clancy, I mean it!

The realtor’s eyes bloom twice their size. A dog? But I didn’t see any dog. She looks timidly around.

And hopefully, you won’t. Oh, I’m sure it’s gone now, I smile at her. And you should be leaving too, right? I bat my eyelashes. Preferably before it shows up again. Buh-bye now! I wave her off.

She stares at me like I have three heads then clutches her bag tight to her chest and races for her car, her feet bustling twice as fast as they did before.

Where are you, you mangy… I check the yard for signs of Clancy, as the realtor reaches her car.

She yanks on the door handle, which conveniently comes off in her hand, shrieks, and runs to the other side—where she dives in, headfirst, then crawls across to the driver’s seat looking completely disheveled. She jams the keys into the ignition and…

RRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr…

RRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr…

Her engine will not turn over.

Uncle Harold? I say, turning suspicious eyes skyward.

RRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr..

RRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr…

Uncle Harold, is that you? I strain to look beyond the trees.

RRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr…

Uncle Harold, you stop that!

The car groans again.

Uncle Harold, did you hear me? I know it’s you!

I'd start the car for the realtor myself, but unfortunately, I’m the only one in the family who can’t alter states. But this trick has Uncle Harold written all over it.

All at once, something bounds up and licks my hand. I look down into the ghostly face of my uncle’s bloodhound-hellhound. My suspicions are confirmed. Clancy, I say, ruffling the old hound’s ears.

RRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr… the car’s motor churns.

Uncle Harold, I demand you stop this, right now! I shout at the sky.

RRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr…

RRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr-RRRR-rrrr…

Uncle Harold! I know you can hear me? I thrust my hands to my hips and glare at the clouds.

All right, all right, comes the thick Scottish brogue I remember so well, filtering down through the leaves in the trees. It travels on a curl of cold wind. But no sign of him yet, just the voice. I’m sorry, I just couldn't resist, his voice quakes. She’s such a pretentious, self-serving little⁠—

"Now, Uncle Harold."

Oh, all right, all right.

A vibe swells in the air behind me then shoots off over my head, and the realtor’s engine roars to life.

The realtor throws it in reverse and roars wildly backward out of the driveway, then shifts it in first and zooms away, engine screaming. She takes the turn at Witchbrew Pass a little too fast and loses control of her vehicle, veering off the road and through the front garden of the little red clapboard cottage that graces the corner, the only neighbor I have up here, other than, of course, now, my aunts and cousin. Her VW bug skids dangerously close to going over the edge before she’s able to maneuver it back onto the road, screaming the entire way.

That was your doing, I say, turning to the swirling black bat now hovering over my head.

Yes, well… There’s a snap and a poof of black smoke that turns into a pull-down spiral.

You should be ashamed of yourself; you could have killed her.

Yes, but then I could have brought her back to life again. So there’s that.

Very funny, Uncle Harold. I cross my arms, waiting for him to appear. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.

You know, not everything that goes wrong with the world is linked to me. He throws himself into a spin and appears through the smoke, shimmering at first. A tall, dark, and ominous figure dressed in a scaled, black bat-winged cloak.

He looks off over the horizon. Never did like realtors.

Oh, Uncle Harold. I knew it was you! I thrust myself toward his wings and fall into his arms. I could cry; it’s been so long since I’ve seen him. What’s it been, twenty-five years, maybe?

My wee pet. He wraps his winged arms around me and pulls me closer, enveloping me in his warmth… well, okay, his iciness. Vampires are never really warm, but sometimes the fact that he’s half-witch can make him a little warmer. This is not one of those times. Still, the feeling is familiar and comforting, and I’m so glad he’s here. I’m so glad to see you, I sputter, clinging to him.

Good to see you too, darling. He pets my head, like my mother used to.

To what am I owed this great honor? I ask, pressing back from his vest-covered, muscular chest.

Oh, I don’t know. Can’t an uncle just come visit his niece? He reels me back in, his voice pouring out of him like cream into Scottish coffee, swirling, soothing, cooling.

You’d think so, but I know better. I pull back enough to give him a side-eye. I know you wouldn’t risk the wrath of the aunts and your sister if it wasn’t important. So what is it? I arch a brow. Why are you really here?

Must we cloud up our visit with thoughts of them straight away?

Uncle Harold? I press.

Uncle Harold is not really my uncle. I’ve always just called him that. In truth, Uncle Harold is Cousin Viv’s long-lost twin brother. Of which, no love is lost between them.

Come now, it has to be something. I press harder. What’s it been now, a quarter of a century since anyone’s seen you? I squint. You can’t convince me you were fluttering past and thought you’d pop in. I spy him hard.

Actually, I heard that you had suffered a small hiccup along the great journey of life, and I just wanted to come down to see if you were okay.

Liar. And besides, small hiccup? I scowl. Is that what you’d call it? I think losing my entire career requires a little bit bigger tagline than hiccup.

He bends his long neck down to presses a cold kiss to my forehead. Come now, tell Uncle all about it. He reels me back up into his wings.

There’s not much to tell, I say, pressing my face against his cool chest. I had a job; I sucked at it, and I got fired.

Are you sure that’s how it happened? He pulls back, spying on me warily.

What do you mean?

Nothing. He turns his eyes away. At any rate—he sweeps me back in, hugging me close again—what kind of uncle would I be if I didn't show up in your time of need?

I’ve needed you for the last twenty-five years. Where were you then? I murmur into his chest.

Yes, well, that… He drops his arms and straightens his vest coat. That’s partly why I’m here. All this cryptic talk from all my relatives. Why can’t anyone in this family just speak their minds?

Partly? I raise a brow.

His long ashen face grows even more pasty, his lush dark lashes fan his sparkling dark eyes. When I was eight, my uncle disappeared, right after my mother’s funeral. It was the last time I laid eyes on my uncle in the flesh. Or should I say corpse. He, my aunts, and his sister had a squabble, and he left in a huff, never to be seen by any of us again.

For reasons never discussed.

He left when I needed him most, when my world was falling apart, and I’m finding it hard to forgive him for that, right now. I missed him so desperately. We were so close. He was the next best thing to my father. My best friend. When I lost my father, too, less than a year after, I found his absence devastating.

The thrill of seeing him is tainted by those memories and is suddenly replaced by a strong pang of hurt—his abandonment all too fresh in my heart.

Come on, spit it out. Why have you really come, when you’ve never come back before? Not even to see his sister, with whom he once shared a womb. I could never understand that. I would have killed for a sibling.

My voice carries an edge I’m not sure I mean it to, but I don’t take it back. A part of me wants him to hurt for hurting me—to feel my pain. You know Viv’s going to have a complete conniption when she smells you’re here. I cross my arms. Wait a minute... I uncross them. How is it that she doesn’t already know you’re here?

Glamour, he says and twirls around. His entire body glistens under the protection of the spell.

"Well, aren’t you a clever vampire-slash-witch, I say. But that won’t last forever, you know."

I know. I tripled the spell, just to be safe.

Oh, did you? I cross my arms again.

Yes. Just long enough for me to get done what I came here to do, and then I’ll be gone⁠—

"Gone again, as in for another twenty-five years?" I bitterly cock a brow.

My uncle looks immeasurably crushed. I’m sorry. He sighs, his voice cracking. I know that I hurt you, but if you only knew⁠—

I’d love to know. Please tell me? No one tells me anything around here.

Another time. He waves my request away, his voice curt as he turns his back, and I swear I see the start of tears in his eyes.

Why? Why not now? Why can’t you tell me? I circle him. Why must everything in this family be a secret?

He swallows then blinks then turns away again. You’d never understand.

Try me! I bark.

He draws in a slow, labored breath, eyeing me hard over his shoulder. Do you want to know the real reason I’ve come or not?

Of course I do, I say, backing down.

I’ve brought you something, he says at last, reaching into his pocket. But first, can we go inside? He stretches a long, precarious look over his back, and when he turns around, his expression has grown frantic. And then I remember the barrage of threats that he’d be cursed that my aunts spat as he left the last time. The sting of my aunts’ and cousin’s words ring all too sharp in my ears too. But for the life of me, I cannot remember what was said. Something about him being accused of hurting my mother. But the memory is so faint, I can’t recall any details.

Of course, I say and extend a hand toward my new door then link my arm through his.

Chapter Three

My uncle is so large he barely fits through the door and has to duck to enter. Roomy, he jests, making me laugh.

It was all I could afford.

Perhaps, first, I should help you unpack these boxes. He gestures toward the wall of them in my kitchen.

Quit stalling and tell me why you’re here. I press my fists to my hips. That glamour won’t last forever, you know. Now, what have you brought me? I do love a good gift and am dying of anticipation.

He purses his lips and sweeps across the floor, presenting me with the secret item from his pocket. He holds it up then drops it in my hand.

What’s this? I look down at the necklace of triangular black and silver beads. It doesn’t look new, but it doesn’t look that old either.

It was your mother’s, he whispers.

My mother’s? I look up, my eyes wide. But I thought⁠—

It was the only item saved. I’ve kept it for you all these years.

I look down at my hand then up again, smiling.

She wanted me to give it to you, when⁠—

When, what? I ask.

He bites on his bottom lip. Well, when you got old enough.

That’s not what he was about to say.

And so the grand old age was thirty-three, was it? I stare at the necklace then back up at him. I’ve never seen anything like it—anything of hers. Nothing of my mother’s still exists. It all had to be burned, after her death. Or so they told me. Everything she ever owned or touched. I don’t know why. Not a single item escaped the fire.

But apparently this one… I turn the necklace over in my hand.

She used to press the points of the beads into her fingers when she got nervous, just like you there. My uncle points to me, catching me doing the same. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until he’s said it.

Isn’t that interesting? He taps his chin, gazing on at nothing, whimsically at nothing.

I stop promptly, feeling embarrassed.

I’m sorry, he says. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just—well, it’s just— He stops again, but I know where he was going with this one. I’m just like her. I hear it from everyone, all the time. I’m just like my dead mother. She used to call them her worry beads, Uncle continues in his whimsical state, smiling at the necklace in my hand. Touching them used to help settle her down whenever things in her life went awry. He looks up at me forlornly. So I thought perhaps you’d— His expression skews. Perhaps it was a silly idea.

No, no. I love them, I tell him, clutching them tighter. Of course I want to have them. They were my mom’s, I say, the word feeling so foreign coming from my mouth. I haven’t uttered it in years.

I smile down at the beads. It’s been so long since I thought of her. So long since we felt close. The beads warm in my hand, doing the trick. Somehow, someway, just holding them makes me feel connected to her.

Then it’s settled. They’re yours. Uncle Harold flits forward, reaching out and stringing the beads about my neck. They spark as they drop down over my collarbone, and I jump.

Thank you, I say. Thank you so much for these. I look down at them and smile, instinctively pressing my fingers into the points again and feel instant relief. That’s so strange. I look up.

What is it? He scowls.

How I suddenly feel so connected to her presence. I’ve never felt that before. It’s weird, you know. A weird sensation. She’s been gone so long, but it’s as if she were standing in this room right now, watching over both of us. I whirl around then feel silly for looking for her.

People’s things have a strange way of comforting us after they’re gone, my uncle says, patting my hand. No need to feel embarrassed for yearning. You are so your mother’s child. He grins a strange grin, his fangs protruding, as he steps forward and places another kiss on my forehead. "So your mother’s child." He hugs me.

What is that supposed to mean?

Protect the necklace, he whispers in my ear, low and guarded. Let no one else possess it. It’s yours and only yours. He steps away. It’s been saved for you and only you, he cautions. It’s like a warning. I scowl up at him.

He touches the necklace, and it sparkles. Well, that’s it. What I came for. He cups my chin in his long bluish hand and raises it until our eyes meet, his eyes welling with tears. His long black lashes flutter over them as he smiles down at me affectionately then turns up his nose and sniffs the air. I must be going⁠—

What is it? What do you smell? I look around.

I need to leave before your aunts and cousin get their knickers in a twist. He rushes toward the door, his cloak flapping.

No, wait!

He’s only just gotten here. I don’t want him to go. No matter what the aunts and cousin say. I don’t think I could bear it.

Hide that, he instructs, whirling back around, pointing at my necklace.

I nod, and I drop it quickly down the front of my shirt. Why, are they here? Can you tell? I glance around.

No, but they’re coming. And you know what they can be like. He opens his wings and starts for the door again, and I drop a hand on his sleeve.

Please, don’t do this. Don’t leave now.

The last thing I need is any more trouble. His eyes flash. He opens the arms of his cloak, about to whirl around, then stops to press a light kiss to my forehead. One day I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for all of this.

For all of what?

He kisses me again. Tell me one last thing before I go. He looks deep into my eyes. Were you drawn to this place? Is that why you bought this house?

I scowl, quickly thinking, remembering the strange feeling I got when the realtor first brought me up here, the strange tingling sensation when I stepped on the grass. I don’t know. Yeah, I guess. I think so. Sort of. Why?

I thought so. He smiles and throws out his wings again.

I knew it! I knew it was you! Cousin Viv appears in a puff of gold smoke, her face squirreled up, her voice angry. I could smell you a thousand lifetimes away! She lunges, shouting in her brother’s face. You conniving, traitorous⁠—

Stop that! I say as she raises her hand at his throat to cast something.

I’ll have none of that in this house, do you understand? I place myself between the two of them, my palms pressed hard to their chests.

None of what―me or him? Cousin Viv turns to me, her eyes like red-tipped daggers.

Very funny, Viv.

You shut up! Viv growls and goes for her brother’s throat again, her hands perched spell-like above my head.

I said to stop it! I palm her chest. My house and my rules, Cousin Viv. Now back away.

Whatever, she growls, breaking away from me and circling him. What are you doing here anyway? Busy filling her little head with lies! She darts toward him again.

Uncle Harold stands relaxed, confident she can’t spell him under his glamour. I can only hope he’s not wrong. She’s hardly 'little,' anymore, Viv, Uncle Harold scoffs. I should go. He turns to leave.

No you’re not, I jump in. Now, please, Cousin Viv, be nice. I glare. Don’t you even miss your own brother?

"Pffft!" She shrugs and turns her back, crossing her arms with a thrust.

There’s not even a tiny piece of you that’s glad to see him? She growls and shrugs again. But you’re twins, for goodness' sake. I look to Harold, who rolls his eyes. Aren’t you two supposed to share some kind of special unbreakable bond because of that?

Fraternal, they snarl together, back to back.

What?

Out of two eggs, not one, Cousin Viv clarifies, holding up her fingers. One for him, one for me—no connection. She glares at him over her back.

But surely to goodness, there must be something that links you together after spending nine long months in such close quarters.

Nope! they answer in perfect unison again.

Clearly, they have one thing in common—the stubborn gene.

Aaah, there, you see? I say, making light of it. "You can work together." I tilt my head and smile at them sweetly.

Viv growls.

Uncle snarls.

And one thing is for certain, my aunts weren’t wrong when they described them as oil and water. More like gasoline and fire, if you ask me. Though I’m told they weren’t always this way. They were very close as children. But this tiff over my mother’s death has driven them apart, according to the aunts. Apparently, they’ve always been at each other’s throats, prepared to snap a jugular, ever since whatever happened, happened. Though no one will tell me why there’s such animosity between them.

Whatever this is, is over. Whatever happened, it ends today.

I’m determined to see to it.

Why don’t we all just take a breath and then clear the air between you. I turn to each of them, glaring hard.

Not possible with him in it, Cousin Viv mutters.

Because you’re so dainty fresh. Uncle sniffs the air.

"Rrrrrrraaaah!" Cousin Viv throws up her hands about to cast a spell, and I block them.

Go ahead, let her try, Harold quips.

Why? What have you done?

He twirls, sparkling.

A protection glamour, eh? You old fool. Witches eat those for dessert! She lunges.

Would you both please— I press them both apart. What is wrong with you? I glare. The two of you haven’t seen each other in ages⁠—

And I could have done with never seeing him again! Cousin Viv throws up her chin.

Whatever. Harold rolls his eyes.

Cousin Viv. This is your brother you speak of. The man with whom you entered the universe.

That’s not true. I was first, she snaps.

You were not. I’m the oldest⁠—

Does it really matter? I intervene.

No, because my brother is dead to me. Cousin Viv dashes him with a cold look.

Oh, stop that. I swat at her.

That’s it! Uncle Harold launches himself into a dissipating spin.

Oh, no you don’t! I grab the side of his scaly fabric wing. No one’s leaving here until this matter is settled, once and for all.

Kat! Kit! Cousin Viv arches her neck and calls for backup. My aunts poof in one at a time, in pink and blue puffs of smoke, respectively. Uh! Oh no. Aunt Kit falls back on her heels, hand to her mouth.

Oh dear. Aunt Kat dithers.

That’s right, our greatest nightmare has reappeared. Cousin Viv tips her head toward her brother.

Oh, please. Uncle Harold rolls his eyes. Must we always be so dramatic?

"When it comes to you, yes," Cousin Viv spits, elongating her neck like a snake.

Oh, please, stop this fighting. I love you both so much. I step between them.

And some of us are deserving of your love, and others are not, Cousin Viv bites, side-eyeing her brother.

You don’t mean that. She doesn’t mean that, I say first to her and then him.

I have ears. I know what she meant.

What are you doing here anyway? I’ve asked you twice now. Cousin Viv furrows her brow. What could be so important you’d have the nerve to come to darken our doorstep!

So nice to see you too, Viv⁠—

I asked you a question! Cousin Viv shouts so loud, it rattles the windows. The look in her eyes is enough to set Uncle Harold on fire.

I step aside in case there are flames.

I think you know the answer to that, Uncle snaps.

Really? Viv seethes, tossing him an evil look. You wouldn’t dare?

Oh, wouldn’t I?

Oh no, Kit mutters.

Oh dear, Kat cries.

Well, don’t look at me, I say when they turn to me. I don’t know what’s going on here. Never have. Never will, thanks to all of you.

How dare you show up at a time like this! Viv snarls.

I’d say it’s the perfect time, wouldn’t you? Harold smiles.

At a time like what? I say, skirting between them. What time is it? Will someone please fill me in?

I knew you couldn’t be trusted, Viv hisses over my head.

I knew you wouldn’t tell her⁠—

Tell me what? I shout, but, of course, they ignore me.

You’re going to do it again, aren’t you? Because it wasn’t bad enough the first time, Viv shouts.

I did nothing, and you know it, Harold speaks through his teeth.

Liar! The two of them turn themselves into streaks, soaring around my tiny kitchen like two angry, smoking streams of light.

Will someone please tell me what’s going on? I shout after them, only to be totally ignored again.

Both my aunts fade themselves a bit into the background.

Enough! I shout. You two are blood.

There will be blood, my cousin shouts, whipping about the room.

Stop this! Stop this, right now, I shout into the air. We are family.

"Ppppffhhh!" Cousin Viv explodes a raspberry from her streaking lips.

Don’t you think Mom would expect more from both of you?

What? they answer together and drop to the floor, returning to their former forms, their heads swiveling around in unison.

That got their attention.

There, you see. That’s more like it. I spy them sidelong out of one eye, my arms crossed. Now, how about we agree to drop the amulet. It’s high time you drop the feuding, don’t you think?

I give them space to think about that. Distance too.

You never know when one of them will flare.

Uncle Harold chews his lip and looks around.

Cousin Viv flicks up her chin, holding tough.

It has been a very long time, Aunt Kat shakily speaks up, waffling back into view, wringing her plump fingers.

It truly has, Kit agrees, staying hidden.

Uncle Harold sighs deep. I’d be willing to give in, he finally says.

Well, I won’t! Cousin Viv snaps. Not now. Not ever! she spits through her teeth and whirls around on her brother. Not after what you did⁠—

I told you, I did nothing, Uncle Harold bellows back.

Nothing! Viv whips around. You call that nothing!

It was her choice, not mine.

Tell her daughter that! She points at me, her voice breaking the sound barrier again.

It wasn’t my fault, and you know it. Uncle Harold’s scales ripple.

Oh, please! Viv tosses back her head.

Will someone please tell me what he hasn’t done?

I don’t know how you sleep at night, Viv spits.

She made her own decision— Harold insists.

"Really? It was her decision, to what was it, abandon her own daughter?" Viv juts her chin out at him, pointing back at me.

Abandon? What is she saying? My mother was killed.

Go on, tell her.

How about I whip up some kippers on toast? Aunt Kat suggests, driving in between them, clutching her hands tightly together. That way we can all sit down and discuss this over a cup of blood tea.

I’ll get the gluten-free bread. Kit runs.

They’ll be no breaking of bread or drinking of blood tea. Because Harold was just leaving! Viv bellows.

No. No kippers. No tea. And no one is leaving. Not until I have answers, I shout. I’ve spent a lifetime with you, missing him, wondering what went on to drive the two of you apart, being told, 'You’re not old enough to understand.’ Well, now I’m old enough to understand, and you’re going to tell me! I reach an octave of shouting that surprises myself.

My uncle’s lips part as if to say something, but Cousin snaps her fingers, and he shuts his mouth again. I need to leave, he says.

Please do, she sneers.

No! I lunge toward him, but it’s too late; he’s already begun to turn. You’ll know soon enough, he mutters, in his changing state.

How dare you! Viv snaps toward him.

Uncle thrusts himself into the final circle, throwing the sides of his cape wide. I was not to blame. In time, you’ll see that. All of you. He transforms into a haze of black curling smoke before changing into a bat.

Liar! Viv dashes after him, swinging at him.

Somehow, he manages to avoid her blows, weaving erratically across the kitchen and squeezes out the crack in my door.

Now look what you’ve done. I race to the window, watching him flutter off over the falls, and into the darkening skyline.

Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say, Viv snarls, dusting off her hands behind me.

I can’t believe you, I say.

Chapter Four

H ul-lo? a manly voice calls out. Not Uncle Harold’s. Hul-lo? Anyone there? it calls again.

Who was that? Cousin Viv spins around, looking frantic.

I dunno. I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone. I scowl.

Huuul-loooow! Anyone home?

I race to the front window and pull back the curtain. It’s a man. I gawk back at her. A good-looking man. I squint to make sure I’m seeing what I’m seeing. In uniform. I snag shut the curtains. You’d better go, I say to Cousin Viv.

I’d better stay. She makes a bold face and crosses her arms.

No. If you don’t go, I will never speak to you again.

All right. All right. But I’ll be back. No funny stuff. She waggles a pointed finger in the air, then poofs away. But not really, just sort of. Enough to be invisible to the naked mortal eye.

I frown. I’m thirty-three. I think I can do this on my own, thanks. I ping her in the chest.

Ouch! She flinches.

I mean it. Go now. Or it’s curtains for us, forever. I stand my ground.

She clicks her fingers and becomes a golden plume. I watch as she sifts up through the cracks in the ceiling, like my aunts did earlier. And stay there. All of you! I say to the air as I reach for the door, throwing it back to find a gorgeous specimen standing on my porch, knuckles poised midair about to rap.

Oh, I was just about to knock, he says.

His badge twinkles in the low afternoon light.

Sheriff? I’ve caught myself a sheriff? A beautiful one.

I just heard some noise, like loud arguing, and thought I’d stop in to see if everything was okay, says the Adonis of a man who’s plodded up my driveway, unannounced. Okay, so he’s not that built, but he’s a dang close second.

He shifts his weight from one great thigh to another, and his muscles flex, rippling in all the right places, under the splashes of sunlight that nip in through the trees, backlighting his hunky silhouette.

Oh, that? I say when at last I can speak, though I’m still staring. It was nothing. He shifts again, muscles busting out of every seam of his too-tight uniform, and I feel myself beginning to melt. Normally, I’d object to too-tight uniforms, especially on my old boss-sergeant, but on this guy, I approve wholeheartedly. Just a family squabble, I add, nearly breathless. You know how it is when the relatives come to visit. I lean on my doorjamb.

You have relatives visiting?

Oh phooey.

He lifts an arm to remove his ten-gallon sheriff’s hat, and his bicep bulges. My gods, he has pipes like an anaconda. He moves again, worrying the trim of his hat with a hand and becomes speckled in small dots of sunlight, filtering in through the leaves in the trees, simultaneously illuminating his best bits—his broad chest, tight thighs, and other things. Phe-ew! I mentally fan myself. I may need a drink after this.

Or a shower.

Yeah, you know how it is, they pop in unexpected at all the wrong moments. I spy the ceiling, well aware that my cousin and aunts are probably eavesdropping.

So everything’s okay, then? He drags his fingers through his thick, wavy hair, his biceps bulging again, then slides his dark sunglasses down his Michelangelo-sculpted nose, revealing a set of eyes so mesmerizingly blue, my knees quiver—the color of a Barbadian sea.

Oh yes. Everything’s fine. Better since you’ve shown up. I gulp.

How does he get his eyes to twinkle like that?

He wears his hair shorn close on the sides like most officers do, except for the big surf-like wave he scoops from front to back again— unruly thing— blonde in color, my favorite. His uniform is khaki, a perfect match.

He looks like something I’d order out of the perfect-boyfriend book.

All right, then, didn’t mean to disturb. He tips his hat, pinching the top dents, before dropping it back on his head. I just heard a lot of hollering and saw some light and thought I’d stop in to ask.

You saw the lights?

Better safe than sorry, you know.

Right, I say with a tilt of my head, feeling my cheeks turning red.

Are you flirting with this man, Violet?

You’re sure you’re okay? he asks one more time. Oh gods, this man has the straightest teeth, and bone white.

Yeah, I say and wave the thought away. Everything’s peachy now. I catch myself shifting from one hip to the other, bouncing on it, as I cross my arms under my chest and push the girls up. Why, Violet, are you flirting with him? I smile. Well, why not put my best breast forward. Clearly he has… I stare at his rock-hard chest again.

So I guess I’ll be going, then?

Guess so. Unless you wanna stay. Forever. I swallow.

Somewhere up in the rafters, I hear my cousin cackle. I worry that he can hear it and clear my throat to cover it up. I cannot jade the start of my new life by letting anyone know I’m related to paranormals. Especially not in non-paranormal Hex Falls.

The sheriff looks around. Are they still here? he asks.

No, I stammer, slightly panicked. They’ve all gone… for coffee, I say, thinking quickly, shifting to the opposite hip.

Oh. He grins. "So they’ve flown off to The Bottom of the Cauldron, have they?" He laughs.

Excuse me, what? How does he know?

My heartbeat quickens.

"The Bottom of the Cauldron?" I repeat.

Yeah, you know, the coffeehouse in town? He lifts his perky perfectly groomed brows, and the sunlight catches the cleft in his chin.

Oh! I gasp, clutching my chest. Oh yes. That place. Exactly! I laugh. He has no idea how relieved I am to hear that. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize the name. I’m new to the place. Obviously. Hence all the boxes everywhere…

Great! I mean, not that you’re new—he rolls a hand—it’s just that, well, I’m new here too. He grins.

Really?

Yeah. Only landed here about a month ago.

You did?

And you?

Just today. Hence, the boxes.

Well, isn’t that a lucky thing. He touches his hat again and looks up at me through sheepish eyes. I guess we can be new around here together.

That we can, I say, my voice sliding into teenage-girl range, and I sink into my shoes, embarrassed. Why do I always get like this around men?

Yeah, there aren’t many of us in Hex Falls, so it’s nice to have company, he says. Newcomers, I mean, he adds, when I look at him blankly. Mostly homegrowns here. He scratches his head. Or whatever you call people who are born someplace and never leave it.

Gotcha. I wink and shoot him with a finger gun.

He looks skyward, scratching his chin as if in contemplation. Perhaps still trying to figure out the proper terminology? Yeah. He looks down. There’s just the two.

Two, what?

Non-homegrowns. He smiles. You and me. He touches his chest then points to mine.

Omigods, he was actually counting.

Well, I guess if that’s it, I should fly, he says with a nod of his head.

Why does he keep using all those witchly references? Is he just going along with the theme of the town, or is he trying to tell me something?

Oh gods, please don’t let him be a warlock…

So I guess I’ll be seeing you around the town sometime.

I’m sure you will. I tilt my head. Here’s hoping anyway.

"You have a good day, then. No—a great one! he corrects himself, then turns and drops down off the step, then turns back. Hey, I was thinking—he pulls off his hat, running his fingers around the rim again—would you, maybe, perhaps like to… go for a coffee with me sometime?" He looks up from his shoes then quickly back down.

Is he serious? Of course, I would! Yes! I shout, like I’ve just won the lottery—which I think I pretty much have—then feel stupid about it. Yes. I correct my tone back down to non-manic woman range. Yes, I’d like that. I nod.

Me too! he adds.

Okay, well, that’s why you asked me in the first place, right?

Okay then, I guess it’s a date. I grin.

Great. A date, he repeats and replaces his hat.

I drop my arms at my side and let them swing, and he mimics me, doing the same weird thing. Perhaps he is my soul mate!

You have a great day now. He tips his hat to me again and steps back off the porch.

Wait! The date… I raise a hand, but he’s already gone, jaunting off down the driveway, a spring in his step. I’ve got a date, he sings. An actual date. He stops to pull a fancy dance move, before getting into the car, wrapping one leg around the other and spinning fast around, then popping onto his toes, hollering Woot! like Michael Jackson used to—before the thought of anything Michael Jackson did was creepy.

He grins, and I grin. And then he drops into the car.

But the date. We never set a date… I internally panic as he backs out the drive and disappears down the road, around Witchbrew Pass. Never mind. I drop my hand.

Well, that was nice while it lasted.

I shut the door and fall back against it, sighing.

So I have a date with no real time or date. At least I have one.

Maybe my luck is gonna change.

Chapter Five

W hat was that all about? My cousin Viv poofs back in.

Like you don’t know. I know you were listening. I cross my arms.

Oh, please. I was not.

Really? I thought invasion of my privacy was your thing.

Not anymore, she snaps, folding back. As requested.

Really?

Of course. I understand. You’re a grown woman. You need your space. She averts her eyes. "And this is your house after all."

Oh, I’m glad you finally recognize that. As you keep popping in and out at your leisure.

Aunt Kat whimpers somewhere off in the distance. I know this is hard for them, hard to let go, but I am thirty-three for goodwitchsakes.

I love you all. I do. It’s just—I purse my lips—I think I need you to start knocking before popping in and out.

Really? Cousin Viv’s eyes flash.

Really, I say. It’s the least they can do, after tracking me down and buying the property right next to me without saying.

But what you don’t understand is there are reasons we must stay close.

And you will be close; you’re right up there. I point to the brink of the falls.

All right, if you insist, knocking it is.

Yes! I drag a fist pump down through the air. Small victory. But at least I’ve won one.

The movement slightly dislodges my necklace from its hiding place.

What is that? My cousin spots it, the black of her eyes becoming coal-like. She sweeps toward me before I can answer, a curl of fiery golden smoke trailing. Oh, falling stars! She falls back. Kit, Kat, materialize quickly! she shouts into the air above us.

They poof into the room inside plumes of sparkling pink-and-blue-colored smoke. What is it?

What’s the matter? My two aunts clatter.

Look! Cousin Viv points.