Bewytched

By Shauna Granger

Valentine's Day is coming and for Witch for Hire, Matilda Kavanagh, that means the busiest time of year for her little business of potions, spells, and charms. But someone is trading on her name and their products are having disastrous results. Mattie's gotta find this impostor and stop them before things get out of hand. Poxes and boils and uncomfortable rashes, Mattie can cure, but when it's a matter of life and death, it could ruin her business and her love life - what's left of it anyway.

So much for worrying about finding a Valentine to spend the night with - Mattie's gotta find a way to save her hide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shauna Granger
• Release date: Feb 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310082924

Shauna Granger

Shauna Granger lives in a sleepy little beach town in Southern California with her husband, John, and their goofy dog, Brody. Always fascinated by Magic, Shauna spent most of her teen years buried in books about fairies, elves, gnomes, spells, witchcraft, wizards and sorcery. When she's not busy working on the next installment of the Elemental Series she enjoys cooking, entertaining, MMA fight nights, watching way too much TV and coffee. Lots of coffee.

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Bewytched

Smashwords Edition Copyright 2015

by Shauna Granger

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author.

Published by Shauna Granger

Copyright © 2015 by Shauna Granger

Cover art by Shauna Granger

For all of you wondering if someone wants you for their Valentine.

This is my Valentine to you

***

Table of Contents

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

Chapter21

Acknowledgements

About The Author

Chapter 1

February is a miserable month in Los Angeles. It drizzles constantly, as though the world isn’t sure if it wants to be foggy or rainy, so we end up somewhere in the middle, with frizzy hair and ruined mascara. And somehow, it is colder than it had been at Christmastime.

My bangs, somewhere between wet and dry, were plastered to my forehead as I struggled to unwind my scarf so I could breathe more easily. The apothecary was full of customers pressing too close to me so that I felt the urge to keep one hand on my purse at all times. After the Krampus scare over the winter holidays, both Ronnie’s and Morty’s shops had seen a significant growth in business that had not yet tapered off.

It was awesome to see small businesses booming, but damnit, couldn’t those people wait until after I was done? Fair weather shoppers, that’s what they were. Where were they during the lean months? Not here. Now they’re in my way.

One woman backed away from a shelf without looking behind her and turned right into me, nearly sending me careening into a low glass cabinet full of flesh-eating plants.

’Scuse me, she said, sounding as unapologetic as a cat.

My breath fogged over the glass. Leafy tentacles reached, pressing against the clear barrier, looking for the new source of heat. I left a smudge of fingerprints when I stood back, trying to stop my body from shaking.

Ms. Kavanagh. Morty the Vamp came up beside me, a Windex bottle in one hand and a paper towel in the other. His thin, grey lips were pursed, and his sharp eyebrows were flat over his milky, yet dark, eyes. He spritzed the cabinet and wiped at the smudges, never taking his eyes off me. He towered over me even as he hunched over to clean the glass display case. Morty was thin—too thin—as though he had been well into dying when he was finally turned so many centuries ago.

Sorry about that, Morty, I said, watching the muscle in his cheek jump at his much-hated nickname. His real name was Mordecai, but he was so grumpy, so mean, that I couldn’t help but push his buttons. I mean, the guy really needed to lighten up. "That lady shoved me. No harm, though."

He made a noncommittal noise as he continued to wipe down the rest of the case, as though my fingerprints had covered the whole damn thing. The low lights in the shop did little to keep me from seeing his sallow scalp through his feather-light hair.

May I help you find something? The words should have sounded helpful, a proprietor happy to help his customers, but coming from Morty, it sounded more like an invitation to show myself out.

Restocking some stores, I said, as I dug into my purse for my list. My purse was full of too many things. Tiny bottles of potions. My scarf. Mascara. Compact. Pouch of knockout powder. Cell phone. Keys. Pens and more pens—no wonder I could never find one in my apartment. Finally I felt the crumpled piece of paper and pulled it out. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Morty sneering at the rumpled paper, but I didn’t rise to the bait.

I’m totally out of cumin, and I’m gonna need half a pound, I said as I read from the list. It was my second busiest time of year: Valentine’s Day. Guess it was a good thing that things were busy—it kept my mind off the fact that I had no plans for the big schmaltzy day. Might as well help everyone else celebrate. That was something, right?

Now that the majority of my customers were human, this Valentine’s was already busier than the last few years. Thanks to Joey’s social media savvy, my business was really booming. So much so that I had enough capital to look into offering more choices for Valentine’s Day shoppers than just my standard love spells.

This year, I would offer specialty perfumes that enhanced the wearer’s natural charms, charisma, and confidence. I’d also developed a recipe for chocolates—sort of a modification on the illegal Euphoric Chocolates. Mine would be totally legal and for established couples who wanted to spice up their love lives. I was also going to offer skin cream, a completely new product that would enhance a person’s natural beauty so that they wouldn’t have to wear as much makeup as they normally would. I was particularly excited to try it out myself. Finally, I would offer a selection of charms and necklaces, charged with positive energy, that could be offered as gifts.

Normally I would buy all of my ingredients from Ronnie, but she was steadfastly against any kind of love spell and deliberately wouldn’t stock everything I needed. She outright disapproved of love spells, and after what Joey went through screwing up the one I sold to her, I was inclined to agree with Ronnie. But they were a huge part of my profits come Valentine’s Day, so I couldn’t just stop carrying them. In an effort to keep my customers happy and my conscience quiet, I’d modified my potion so that it only created the equivalent of a crush, and if the bespelled person didn’t have true feelings for the caster, then the potion would wear off in less than a day. I thought it was pretty ingenious. Ronnie, not so much. Ah well, can’t win ‘em all.

So I was down at the corner apothecary, picking up the ingredients Ronnie wouldn’t carry. She’d even gone so far as to stop carrying cherry brandy in bulk, so I could only buy a few ounces at a time. The sneaky witch. But Morty bought everything in bulk to save himself some bucks. At least I could buy the necklaces from Ronnie.

I also need two gallons of cherry brandy, I said, checking the next item off my list.

Morty arched one thin brow at me, though not one other muscle on his face moved.

No comments from the peanut gallery, please.

I am quite busy at the moment, Ms. Kavanagh, Morty said.

I glanced around and saw that all the other customers were still milling, still hemming and hawing. Dude, come on, I said, one hip jutting out as I rounded on him. They’re all still window shopping. I’m spending hard cash, right now. I waved the list in his face, finally getting a reaction out of the vamp.

He leaned back, his nostrils flaring and his lips pursing again. Very well. After a nearly inaudible sigh, he turned and disappeared into the back room with his bottle of Windex and spent paper towel.

Stupid wet blanket, I muttered as I wandered over to the wall of dried fruits and spices. As I filled a white paper bag with scoopfuls of orange rinds, the bell on the door chimed, announcing the arrival of another customer.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Joey, my favorite half-pixie girl, slipping inside. Her shock of bubblegum-pink hair seemed too bright in the dreary shop, especially on top of her sedate outfit. Usually Joey dressed in bright colors to match her hair and lavender eyes, but in such depressing weather, warmth and layers outweighed sparkle and pop.

She was in a comfy, grey, hooded sweatshirt and black skinny jeans that disappeared into her teal, high-top Converse. Even her hair was more sedate than normal. Usually it was in soft spikes all over her head with a wedge of bangs falling over her eyes like a character burst from a Manga book, but instead it was flat, hiding her ears and coming close to the edges of her face. She looked a lot like her blond cousin, Charlie. But there was something odd about her—a lump on her shoulder, under her sweatshirt.

Joey tilted her head, and I saw a tiny dragon head peek out of the neck hole. Two white puffs appeared as Smert breathed, his hot breath fogging up the cool air. I smothered a snicker at the sight of the dragon curled around her neck, under her sweatshirt, trying to stay warm.

I lifted a hand to catch her eye through the crowd of bodies. She raised her pointy chin when she spotted me and darted through people as though she were a hummingbird darting through branches, never disturbing a leaf.

Hey, I said when she reached my side.

Hiya. She rocked up on her toes, her hands jammed into the pouch pocket of her sweatshirt.

Kinda cold for Smert, don’t you think?

As long as I keep him close to my body, he seems okay, she said, running a finger under his chin. A strange ticking noise came from the white and green miniature dragon.

Is that his version of purring? I asked.

I think so, Joey said with a smile. Cute, right?

Kinda, actually. I glanced around to make sure Morty was nowhere to be seen and edged over to the bins of dried peppers and herbs. With one last look to make sure no one was watching, I snatched a ghost pepper from one of the bins. The pepper was tiny and orange and kind of adorable, just like the dragon, and I was careful to only touch it by the stem.

Joey sidled over to me, and Smert sniffed the air, his neck lengthening toward my hand. He snatched the pepper with his tiny teeth, and it crunched in his powerful jaw as he gobbled it up. After he swallowed, he hiccupped, and a tiny spark of fire burst from his mouth, making Joey and me laugh.

Aw, thanks, Auntie Mattie. I like hot peppers, Joey said, scratching under the dragon’s chin again.

I went back to filling my bag of orange rinds. What are you doing here anyway? Aren’t you on shift for Ronnie?

Shift’s over, she said, sounding a little distracted.

When I looked again, I saw her head bent forward and her phone in her hand, her thumb scrolling over the screen. She was never without that thing anymore. The case on the phone had changed again with the shift in seasons. The massive plastic thing was covered in hearts and sparkles, making the phone look twice its size.

With a shake of my head, I turned back to the wall of spices, lifting my face to look over the labels. I heard the sound of a fake camera click and knew Joey had taken my picture again. My shoulders inched toward my ears and my eye twitched at the thought of my picture being taken, but that was Joey’s unofficial job. She was Ronnie’s shop helper and the social media manager for both of us. In exchange, she lived with Ronnie, got a small salary from her, and I was teaching her some magic. Mostly brewing potions and things anyone could do—not just witches.

I grabbed another bag to fill with dried lavender for the chocolates. When I opened the bin, the heady scent perfumed the air, chasing away the nearly constant scent of wormwood and mildew that permeated the small shop. I took a moment to breathe it in before filling my bag.

Nice, Joey whispered. Her fingers were flying over the screen again.

No pictures in the store. Morty appeared at my side without a sound.

When he spoke, I nearly jumped to the ceiling in a poor imitation of a shocked cat. Sparks ignited at my fingertips, and my heart thudded. For the love of toads, Morty! Don’t sneak up on people like that!

No pictures, he said again, totally ignoring me, his watery eyes boring down on Joey.

Fine, fine. She put her phone to sleep and jammed it back into the pouch pocket. Happy?

I didn’t know if it was Morty’s voice or Joey’s annoyed tone, but Smert’s head darted out of the sweatshirt, and he made a sound of warning, his little mouth opening with a spark of fire. It wasn’t much of a threat—kinda cute, really—but from the look on Morty’s face, you would have thought a full-grown mountain dragon had appeared on the pixie’s shoulder.

No animals in the shop! Morty said with a shaking voice, his boney finger pointing at the dragon. I thought his eyes would burst from his head, and if it was possible, he was even paler than normal.

He’s not hurting anyone, Joey said, turning her body to keep Smert away from that pointing finger.

I stepped between them to break his line of vision. Morty, take it easy.

No animals in the store! He was nearly yelling, and drawing the attention of the customers around us.

Someone squeaked in surprise or fear when Smert’s long neck stretched out of the sweatshirt, trying to look around Joey’s face.

Have a conniption, why don’t you, I said with an eye roll. Joey, just wait for me outside.

The muscle in her narrow jaw worked as she glared at Morty. After a moment, her eyes darted to meet mine, and the fight went out of her. Whatever.

She turned on the balls of her feet and stormed out—though a pixie storming out still looks like a dancer slipping off stage. She stopped short, darted over to the bin of ghost peppers, and stole a handful, moving too quickly for even the vampire to stop her. She waggled the fingers of her empty hand at the gobsmacked vampire before she was out the door in a puff of pixie dust.

Ms. Kavanagh, Morty said as he turned to me.

I put up a hand to stop him. I’m done, I’m done, and she’s gone, so just save it and ring me up. You can add her handful of peppers to my total, so don’t freak out.

Morty continued to glare at me. I saw the fight in his lifeless eyes—he wanted to throw me out, but somehow take my money as well. I just shook my head and walked past him, bag of orange rinds in one hand and lavender in the other. At the counter, my two gallons of cherry brandy and half pound of cumin were waiting for me.

In moments, Morty was in front of me, totaling up my purchases. He took an inordinate amount of time weighing the bag of orange rinds, as though he didn’t trust his own scale to charge me correctly. Finally he gave me my total. After I got him to take off the extra charge he’d tried to sneak in, and forced him to charge me for the common ghost peppers and not the exotic brand, I gathered up my items in both arms and walked out. As I turned to push the door open with my back, I stuck my tongue out at the customers watching me, earning a round of wide-eyed shock before I stepped into the drizzly night.

***

Joey took one of the gallons of cherry brandy from me when I met her on the sidewalk.

Is he always that cheerful? she asked, her thin arms wrapped around the heavy glass jug.

Oh, he’s a veritable ray of sunshine, isn’t he? I said.

Joey smirked, lifting a hand to wave at Ronnie through the window as we passed her shop. I nodded at her since I couldn’t wave. We were going to my apartment, and the door to the building was just beside Ronnie’s shop door. The bells over her door jingled as she opened it, stopping us.

I have those charms you wanted, she said. They just came in, but I haven’t had a chance to look at them. She had the package in her hands, her orange-red eyebrows arched at me.

Pile it on top, I said with a motion of my head.

Ronnie balanced the brown, paper package on top of the bag from Morty’s shop. I held it in place with my chin.

Shopping at the apothecary, huh? She eyed the jugs of cherry brandy.

I’m not arguing again, I said, already turning toward the apartment entrance.

I know, I know, she said with a sigh. I just…

Meh, I said, my voice muffled as I tried to keep my chin on the package. Stop. We’re not fighting. Pasta later. With that, I turned and nudged Joey’s hip with mine to get her moving.

She balanced the jug on her hip to free up one hand to open the door.

Pasta later, Ronnie said, turning back into her shop.

Joey and I climbed the steps to the lobby. The lights inside were a shock, making us stop to blink and let our eyes adjust.

Mattie.

Frankie’s voice cut through the lobby and snagged me around the middle, stopping me from heading for the rickety elevator. Instinctively I cringed at the sound of her voice, schooling my features as I turned to face her. Frankie and I were on a strange new footing. We’d been mortal enemies for years. During the Krampus threat this past Christmas, she’d shared her childhood fears with me, and my vanquishing the holiday devil seemed to endear me to her—as endeared as the she-wolf could be anyway. Now I felt as though we were frenemies, on our way to something nice. She’d even given me an ornament for my Christmas tree. But I couldn’t shake my innate fear whenever she surprised me.

Heya, Frankie, I said, hoping my voice sounded normal. My arms were starting to ache, and the gallon of brandy felt as if it weighed thirty pounds.

Frankie was an impressive woman, curvy and tall with striking eyes that flashed yellow with the wolf inside. Her nails were always impeccable, and her trendy hair changed colors like a prism caught in a ray of sunshine. Tonight it was a shade of pale lavender, her fringe of bangs shifting to black. Is Kyle coming by tonight?

She was trying to sound casual, but I felt the unease coming off her.

Yeah, actually, I said. It’s time to refill his pain meds.

Kyle, the second in command of the county Werewolf pack, was Frankie’s boyfriend and a regular customer of mine. He suffered from migraines, and only my potions had given him any respite.

What have you got there? she asked, reaching with one finely manicured finger to peer inside my bag, almost unseating the box of charms.

Valentine’s day supplies for customers.

Oh, right, that’s coming up, isn’t it? She wouldn’t look at me. That was weird. I’d almost forgotten.

Oh, I said, unsure what else to say. It felt as if I were supposed to fill the silence, though.

I’m sure Kyle has something silly and extravagant planned, of course.

Of course. I felt my brows coming together as I watched her.

She checked the time on her phone before stuffing it back into her pocket. Of course it wouldn’t be a surprise if I knew about it—ruin the romance and mystery, you know. But a girl would like to know what kind of shoes she should wear.

At that, she finally met my eyes, her head tipped forward, and I realized she was asking me if I knew what her beau had planned. I nearly sputtered in my effort to catch up.

Oh, you know me, Frankie, I said, trying to laugh lightly, but even to me it didn’t sound natural. I’m terrible with secrets, so he hasn’t said anything to me. But I’m sure he’s planning something amazing. It’s your first Valentine’s together, after all.

I saw the flash of disappointment in her eyes. On Frankie, it looked like anger, the most natural emotion she expressed. But she didn’t bite my head off.

Don’t stink up the building with your potions. I live on the floor above you, don’t forget. She turned and sauntered back to the front desk, leaving me and Joey blinking.

Well, that was weird, Joey said after the elevator doors closed and we were a floor up, careful to make sure that Frankie’s Were ears didn’t hear her.

Yes, it was, I agreed, watching the progression of the elevator and feeling it shake around us. One of these days, it would give up the fight and plummet to the basement. I just prayed I wasn’t on it when that happened.

I knew all too well what Frankie was going through. It was so frustrating to have a guy in your life but have no idea if he was going to do anything for you on Valentine’s Day. Being the one person in your group of friends who