Addicted Witch: A Jagged Grove Mystery

  Addicted Witch: A Jagged Grove Mystery

  Willow Monroe

  Published by Betsy Belle Books, 2016.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  ADDICTED WITCH: A JAGGED GROVE MYSTERY

  First edition. April 15, 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 Willow Monroe.

  Written by Willow Monroe.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  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

  Willow Monroe

  START A NEW SERIES!

  Further Reading: Pumpkin Spice and a Body On Ice

  Chapter 1

  “So, Trinket...? Have you two done the deed yet?”

  My mom wiggles her eyebrows, and I choke on my salmon. Holding a napkin to my mouth, I struggle for air and turn my head to hide my sudden blush.

  Blakely, on the other side of the table, laughs. He doesn’t look like a vampire - more portly than svelte, more salt and pepper than dark and handsome, more retired banker than dangerous seducer. His eyes sparkle with patient amusement. He’s adorable, even when he’s laughing at me. I can easily see why my mom loves him.

  When I get myself under control again, I say, “Mom!” Politely and quietly, of course. We’re at the Crystal Cup - Blakely’s treat - and manners are the theme here. I can glare, though. “Stop that.”

  Blakely laughs again, but then takes pity on me and reaches across the corner of the table to pat Mom’s hand. “That’s none of our business, sweetheart.”

  They’ve been a couple long enough now to be comfortable in their relationship, so she ignores him. “You know things will get better once it’s done.”

  My glare doesn’t budge, even though it wants to become an eye roll. “Just stop. Please. The man is driving me crazy. I’m not adding...that...complication to the mix.”

  We’re talking about Angelo, my accidental husband. Well, not accidental - we had to do it to save Jagged Grove - but not exactly traditional, either. We were handfasted - bound - in order to combine our power and defeat my father, an evil warlock with a God complex. Now that the crisis is over, I need to break free before this marriage thing becomes too permanent.

  The faint lines around Mom’s eyes soften as she smiles indulgently. “Marriage is all about give and take, dear. You’re probably driving him crazy, too. In fact, I guarantee it.” She leans my way and whispers, Men have needs.”

  It’s Blakely’s turn to choke and grab his napkin.

  “Thanks a lot,” I mutter, looking at both of them. They make a cute couple, and Blakely makes my mom happy, even if he is a vampire. I was worried about this until he reassured me that he had his cravings under control and wouldn’t start chewing on her neck. My mom is a quirky little witch, and I can’t imagine her witchyness enhanced with the traits of a vampire. That would definitely get somebody killed.

  But cute or not, this mess with Angelo is none of their business, no matter how much I love them. I stare at the engagement ring flashing on my mother’s left hand - a Christmas gift from Blakely - and try to think of some way to change the subject, but nothing is coming to me, so I go back to the original question.

  “Who can help us break the bond, Mom?”

  She’s quiet, and I know she’s trying to decide whether to help me or urge me to drop it. Finally she says, “I just think you should give him a chance.”

  I groan and cover my face with my hands. We’ve been over this a hundred times, she and I, and I can’t make her see that just because I want a divorce, that doesn’t mean I don’t care for Angelo.

  OK, I can see how that’s confusing. I drop my hands and try again. “Mom, Angelo and I were bound before we really even knew one another that well. The spell makes us, uh, attracted, whether we want to be or not. Once the magical bond is broken, we can find out if our feelings are real or just a side effect. OK?”

  She sighs and looks at her fish. Blakely squeezes her hand again and then goes back to his meal, wisely staying out of it. I feel terrible - she acts like I’m doing this specifically to hurt her.

  Around us, the restaurant hums with early diners clinking glasses and having normal conversations. It’s a Thursday night, so the Crystal Cup isn’t crowded, but it’s not empty, either. I’m glad for the proximity of others - the last time we had this conversation I got so frustrated that I burst into tears.

  This spell has me tied in knots. Instead of acting like a normal woman with normal boundaries, I spend too much energy fighting off thoughts of Angelo, feelings about Angelo, and daydreams of Angelo. I even agreed to let him move in, which was dumb, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  It’s exhausting.

  Angelo, on the other hand, seems to be taking it all in stride. Maybe even enjoying it. He just drapes his big sexy frame all over my house, cooks for me, makes me laugh, and pouts openly because I made him move into the spare bedroom.

  That’s the one line I haven’t crossed, and I plan to keep it that way.

  In other words, he doesn’t see any need to break our bond, either. He agrees with Mom. Most women would kill to be in my situation - Angelo is considered the catch of the century around here - but I see nothing but trouble in our future unless we break the bond and create some breathing room.

  Maybe our real feelings will grow, and maybe they won’t. A stupid spell isn’t going to decide for me, though. If we’re going to be together, really be together, it has to be real.

  “Just give me a name. Please?” I ask, just as a slice of cherry cheesecake appears by my elbow. I startle, then look over to see our waiter waving at us, a huge grin on his face.

  This happens when you live in a magical place, and that’s what Jagged Grove is - a place for us supernaturals to live freely, without having to hide our gifts. Back home, in the America that most people are familiar with, we all pretended to be normal people with normal lives, but here we can let our freak flag fly, so to speak. Our neighbors are other witches, shifters, a few sprites, a family of merpeople...almost all of the myths are alive and well, and they can be found living in Jagged Grove. We even have Blakely, our only vampire. So far.

  Angelo and his team are U.S. government agents, charged with finding the supernaturals who have trouble keeping their secret back home, and then relocating them here to Jagged Grove. That’s how he and I met, thanks to my mother and an unfortunate flying incident.

  I hated it at first, and hated Angelo, too, but now I know that it was the best thing that could have happened to me. I get to freely use my healing gifts and I’ve made good friends since coming here. Mom is more content than she’s ever been, and she’s found true love, which is just icing on her happiness cake. Best of all, I don’t have to worry about bailing her out of jail anymore after some screwy spell-gone-wrong scenario.

  Mom still isn’t answering my question, but finally, when the silent tension becomes uncomfortable, Blakely steps in. “Go see Guthrie Phry,” he says quietly. “He owns Hex Squared, down the block. He should be able to help you.”

  My mother’s lip trembles, and I feel terrible. At the same time, I’m committing Guthrie Phry’s
name to memory.

  Before I can say anything, though, a familiar tingle skitters across my skin. I sigh, and I’m not surprised when a warm hand drops on my shoulder. I turn and look up to see Angelo himself smiling down at me, dark curls against olive skin. The physical attraction component of this spell is at least a good early warning system. I always know when he walks into the room.

  Before he even says hello, he spots my forgotten cheesecake. “Are you going to eat this?” he asks, using his sexy grin to distract me while he steals the plate. Then he sits and nods hello to Blakely.

  “No, go ahead,” I say with a sigh. I wasn’t going to eat it, but still...

  Mom is smiling again. “Hello, Angelo, she says. “We were just talking about you.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” Then he looks at me, his deep brown eyes flashing with amusement. “Anything good?”

  I fight the urge to reach out and brush stray dark hair from his forehead. Angelo is quintessentially Italian, and it shows. When I first saw him I thought he was the mob. This close, he’s also incredibly sexy, and my defenses crumble to dust.

  I start to excuse myself and stand up, but when I’m half out of my chair, Mom says, “Trinket was just talking to us about breaking your marriage bond. She’s going to see Guthrie Phry.”

  Angelo listens and eats, but his eyes go all thoughtful.

  “I was going to tell you this evening,” I say. “I thought we could go together, actually.”

  He swallows and offers me a smile, but it’s hollow. “Sorry, I can’t. I came to tell you that I’ll be out of town for a few days. I’m taking Glade to the mainland.”

  “Oh, wow.” The mainland is what we call America here. “So I guess he passed his exam, then.”

  Angelo nodded. “No problems at all. That boy is going to make a great agent.”

  Mom looks proud and sad, all at the same time. She took Glade and his twin Rain in when we first came here, and she fusses over them like they’re her own.

  We all do, really. They’re good kids, typical teenagers who had to deal with some bad stuff, but that’s all over. Glade wants to follow in Angelo’s footsteps, and Rain has been helping me out in the clinic while she shakes off the final vestiges of her depression. They both just turned eighteen, and they’re eager to stretch their wings a little.

  “He’ll be fine,” Angel reassures her, and she nods. “This isn’t an actual case, more of a test run.” To get her mind off the news, he points to the ring sparkling on her finger and asks, “So have you two set a date yet?”

  Blakely chuckles. “Not yet, but now that the twins are getting settled into their new lives, we might just take care of it soon.”

  “Well, I want an invitation,” Angelo says. He looks at me pointedly, like he doesn’t trust me to invite him.

  “Of course,” Blakely says, nodding.

  Angelo turns to me and his gaze finds mine. “Can I talk to you?”

  I shiver and nod, then stand. “I was finished anyway,” I say, going around the table to drop quick kisses on Mom and then Blakely’s heads. “Thanks for dinner, you two. And the info.”

  Angelo grabs one last bite of cheesecake and catches up with me at the door. “That was...abrupt,” he says, helping me into my coat and zipping it up for me. He holds the door and leads me out into the evening.

  “I’m just tired.” It’s an excuse, but it’s also true. Angelo doesn’t understand that my reaction to his presence is sometimes exhausting, so I don’t elaborate. I just hope the fresh air helps.

  “And you want to go see Guthrie?” His voice is quieter. I can’t read it, but I know he already knows the answer, so I don’t say anything.

  “Well, not tonight. But soon,” I explain. “And I’d like you to come with me.”

  We walk down the verandah stairs and head through the parking lot in the direction of home. The February air is cold, and I remember Blakely telling me that a storm is threatening. “Will you be home before the weather turns bad?” I ask.

  We sound like a regular old married couple. Which we are. Until I can fix it.

  “I should be.” He frowns toward the sky, and my gaze travels the strong set of his jaw and neck before I can look away. “I hope so, anyway. This one is supposed to be brutal, and I’d like to be here, just in case...”

  He doesn’t have to finish. I know Angelo well enough to know that he is protective of Jagged Grove and its residents, and that he’d want to be here to help if something happened. The basic goodness of his heart is one of his best qualities.

  Moments like this, when we’re walking hand in hand through the frigid winter air and looking around at the town’s familiar surroundings, I catch myself wondering if the fight to break our bond is worth it. Maybe we are meant to be together, and I’m just wasting my time trying to break free. Angelo is a good man, one of the best, and part of me wants to believe Mom’s pronouncement that I’d be crazy to give him up over some silly principle. That part wants to stand in the circle of his arms and let him kiss me as much as he wants. Then I want to invite him into my bedroom...

  Then I get over it, because I know that my thoughts are constantly being influenced by the spell that binds us. I shake my head and walk faster, concentrating on the way my breath plumes in front of me.

  Chapter 2

  It’s dark out, and the streetlamps make little puddles of light for us to step in as we go. Angelo keeps up with me easily, his long legs striding and confident as always. A few flakes of snow twirl around us here and there, but I barely pay them any attention. I’m working to get my thoughts back in order.

  “Do you want to go see Guthrie Phry with me?” I ask, still hoping to get a definite answer from him.

  “I might as well, if you can stand to wait until we get back.” He sounds hurt, and I feel bad again. “Either way, I don’t want you to go alone.”

  “I can take Imala with me, I guess,” I squeeze his hand mid-swing. “But I’d rather go with you. I don’t know anything about this guy, and I trust you to keep us safe.”

  He squeezes back. “Guthrie is the kind of man who, back on the mainland, would be considered a creep. He’s more comfortable hanging out with kids than adults, and he’s a bit of a magic geek - likes to collect and play with the oddest spells he can find. He keeps to himself a lot.”

  A chill runs up my spine. That does sound creepy.

  Angelo opens the little wrought iron gate and leads me up our - my - front walkway to the house. Holding the door for me, he continues, “I’ve heard rumors that he’s into some pretty heavy-duty stuff these days, but if he is, he’s keeping it to himself. I haven’t heard a peep from him in a long time.”

  I step inside and flick on the lamp nearest the door, then snap my fingers to light a fire in the fireplace - a trick my sister Rachel taught me.

  “Doesn’t that make you nervous?” I ask, hanging up my coat in the closet and taking his when he hands it to me. “I mean, this is a pretty small place - it would take some real work to completely disappear.”

  He thinks about this. I follow him into the kitchen, where he pours us both a cup of the coffee I made before I left. Thankfully, it’s still hot. Mom’s magical carafe is one of the best Christmas presents I’ve ever gotten.

  We sit down together on the barstools on one side of the island, turned sideways so that we’re facing one another.

  “In a way it does, but you have to remember that I depend on the residents here - including you - to keep me informed when something needs my attention. I can’t be everywhere at once.”

  “I know,” I say, holding my mug tight.

  For the first time, I realize that his job is a huge responsibility, and that it must take a lot to handle it. Along with handling cases on the mainland, he feels responsible for keeping the peace here, too. Angelo is more fully invested in Jagged Grove than anyone else here. My respect for him was already high, but now it goes up a few more notches.

  “Can you wait until I get ba
ck? Or are you too impatient?” he asks, looking at me.

  “I’ll wait.”

  He relaxes. “And if the storm hits before I get back, go stay with your mom. She and I will both feel better knowing you aren’t alone.”

  I bristle at this. “Uh, no. I’ll be fine here, and Mom and I might kill each other if we spend too much time together.”

  He laughs. “No, you won’t.”

  “I’m serious, Angelo. If I’m going to be trapped in one house, I want it to be my own.”

  He shakes his head. “Fine, but at least call her a couple of times a day, all right?”

  Wait a minute... “How bad is this storm supposed to get, anyway?” I ask, a sliver of worry lodging in my chest.

  He thinks before answering. “We don’t know, not for certain. I can tell you that the weather system we built for Jagged Grove has been acting oddly for a while, and I can tell you that we’ve got people working on it. I just don’t know how long it will take them, or what might happen in the meantime, so take care of yourself until I get back.”

  He stands up and refills his cup, but when he comes back to the bar, he doesn’t sit down, Instead, he puts down his cup and then steps over to my chair.

  I can feel the electricity between us, and when he puts his hands on my shoulders and starts to massage them, I gasp. Tension crackles along my spine. I bite my lip, but I can’t bring myself to lean away or tell him to stop. I close my eyes.

  His hands are warm and strong, pressing harder as they move along my muscles. “You carry too much tension,” he murmurs quietly. “You need to relax a little.”

  I open my mouth to tell him that he isn’t helping, but all I get out is a squeaky breath. He chuckles and kisses my neck. I shiver again and fight the urge to lean back into him.

  It would be so easy to just give in and let him care for me. I feel like I’ve spent my life caring for someone else - namely my mom - and it feels good to think that I could be pampered, for once. Angelo seems intent on doing just that, too.