Ill Met By Moonlight: The Witches Of Castle Falls, #3

By Phaedra Weldon

Bloodless victims trouble the Castle Falls Sheriff's Office as David Flanagan is called in to be held accountable. He knows his sire is in town and responsible for the deaths, but he fears he'll lose Ginger's love if she and her family discover what he was while under Ezra Tremere's power. 

Tremere introduces himself to Ginger and the entire Blackstone / Donahue family come together to save the life of David in an attempt to stop Tremere's plans which could also mean the end of Ginger's life as a witch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caldwell Press
• Release date: Sep 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386602972

Book preview

One

W hy even do that? I mean, will the plant keep blooming when you’re not around?

I heard Melody and I ignored her. At least for the moment. I had to concentrate on the wilting rose bush in front of me. I tried to tell the customer that it’s November. In fact, we were two weeks into November. Roses don’t bloom in November. Especially not this particular variety of rose.

And let’s not even consider the fact the rose’s owner had her son dig up the bush, put it in a pot, and bring it over to Mama D’s shop. I was sure that shocking the bush like that wasn’t a good idea. I gave it a fifty-fifty chance.

But you see, these facts didn’t stop the customer from demanding we fix her bush or she was going to press charges of fraud.

Yeah. I laughed too. Because… seriously? Fraud?

Granny had stood by the counter and listened to the woman’s complaint while I stood to granny’s right and noticed the embarrassed and bored look on the customer’s son’s face. When the customer was done, Mama D turned and left the shop. 

Which left me to deal with the irate customer. I reassured her just as Melody stepped in. I told her I’d do my best, and if the rose couldn’t be ‘fixed,’ then we would replace it. I had never been happier to see a customer leave.

And now… the bush.

Nothing’s happening.

I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t tell my sister to be quiet in a less than nice way. But she was right. Nothing worked. In fact, three more petals dropped off the last remaining bloom as I stood up and sighed. No. It’s not.

Oh just give her a new rose bush.

From where? I held up my hands and gestured to Mama D’s shop. The place was small. Quaint, was the word Melody used. Dark, washable tile covered the floor and a wall of English Ivy hid the opposite wall from the counter. It didn’t grow over the windows or door, but it did grow from floor to ceiling. I did that. Not on purpose. I gave a small pot of the ivy a push with magic and well… it blew up. All over the wall.

And the ivy liked me. When I entered the room it moved and waved at me until I waved and blew a kiss back.

It was creepy.

But, this accident inspired me to try to do the same for the rose bush.

Yeah, you don’t have any more roses.

Nope. I moved to the register and pulled out the price of the rose and put the money in an envelope. After scribbling the customer’s name on the front, I tucked the envelope into the dead rose stalks and pushed the pot to the edge of the counter. Her son can pick that up later when he comes back by. If she wants to sue for fraud… fine.

Yeah. That was the first thing I heard when I came in, Melody had been sitting on the counter by the register and now jumped down. Her skirts and flowy blouse fluttered with her. Everyone in town knew my sister was a Stevie Nicks uber fan. She dressed like her, kept her hair as close to Stevie’s as she could get (only Melody’s is red, like mine) and all she ever listened to was Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Nicks. She even had a collection of tambourines in her antique shop, located on the main strip of Castle Falls, South Carolina. "So, do you remember that crystal ball?"

I frowned as I grabbed my shawl from the wooden coat tree. We’d sort of been discussing some of the things Melody lost when Tad Bishop trashed her antique shop and killed her former partner. After a month of checking inventory, for insurance purposes, she’d found three items that weren’t accounted for—or weren’t in the rubble of what was left. The one she asked me about was a pink crystal ball. Yeah…kinda. You had it on the front counter. Was it a real one?

Real what?

Crystal ball. I don’t remember them being pink. I pulled the shawl over my shoulders.

It was real. Solid. And very heavy. So if he had smashed it, we’d have found parts of it everywhere. But it’s gone.

Is that bad? I opened the door and stepped outside.

Melody followed me. Well, I always thought it was created for a reason. I just don’t know what Tad would have done with it, you know?

Maybe he sold it on Ebay.

It was late afternoon, close to five o’clock, and cold. The high didn’t cross fifty-degrees. Right now it was close to forty as the sun went down. And there was wind. Most of the leaves were gone from the hardwoods surrounding Mama D’s picturesque house on Woodbourne Lane. The grass had turned brown, and the garden looked more like a graveyard. Gray clouds covered the darkening sky as I headed to the mailbox. The sun was disappearing fast, so I needed to work quickly.

The post holding Mama D’s birdhouse-shaped mailbox had snapped in two. Granny believed the post was the original one, thrust into the ground when the house was built in the early 1920s. Which made sense that the wood was just too old to support the mailbox anymore.

So, what’s up with you?

I blinked at the mailbox and then looked at Melody standing on the other side. What?

You seem a little off. In fact, you’ve been moody for a while.

No, I haven’t.

Yes, you have.

No, I—

Melody held up her hands. This kind of argument was fun when I was thirteen and you were twelve. But not now. She clasped her hands in front of her as the wind blew her long curly hair. I had to admit, my sister kinda looked like Stevie Nicks sometimes. She had the pouty mouth and long face. How’s David?

And there was the thud. The problem that swirled around me like a dark cloud I couldn’t swat away.

Dr. David Flanagan. My boyfriend, my lover, the town’s doctor, and… a vampire shifter. A vampire who could shift into a wolf. Sounds like the plot of a movie, doesn’t it? Well, I’m a witch. A Hedge Witch. I thought we made a good team, at least after solving a set of murders that involved one of the cast members of the TV show Ghost Watchers, last month.

Things were so good—

Ginger?

I squatted down and checked on the ivy I’d planted at the base of the wood post that morning. The plant took root quickly and I’d coaxed it around the bottom of the post. My idea was to set the post back on itself and then have the ivy wrap around and keep it in place.

Sounded like a good idea… especially after my attempt at reviving the wood itself had failed. Mama D had watched me waste my energy on that idiotic idea. Dead is dead, Ginger. You can’t revive what has long ago rotted inside, she’d said before leaving me to my failure.

So… ivy.

I stood and picked up the top part of the post; the part with the mailbox on it. It was heavy and Melody helped me get it back into position as I coaxed the ivy. We had a fight.

Last night?

I sighed, and the ivy stopped growing. I refocused on it as the vines split and curled and wove themselves around the wood.

That’s pretty, Melody said.

And it was. I wasn’t telling the ivy what to do, but simply coaxing it along its natural progression. We stood in silence in the cold November wind as the vines moved and threaded and sprouted and finally covered the entire post. We looked at each other and let go of the mailbox and stepped back.

The post didn’t move as the ivy filled out and settled in. I’d given it a silent and forceful command to stop reproducing, but not to stop living. It would hold on to the post as long as it wanted. As far as I knew, it might all collapse the moment I walked away. I knew the post itself needed to be replaced. I figured if I could fix the mailbox with my magic, it would make me feel...useful. 

Hey, Melody put a finger under my chin and I looked at her. We were the same height, and it was clear we were related. We all looked like our mom, except for Kevin who looked like dad. Except for the red hair. Even Kevin had red hair. Talk to me.

I don’t know what to say.

You haven’t gone out in a week, she said and then held up her finger when I opened my mouth to start my defense. Mama D told me. She said you and David have been at odds for a while.

I turned away because I felt my eyelids burning. I was keeping back tears. Yeah… it all started right after Samhain.

I thought you two had a great time that night.

We did, I kept my face turned away. I would not cry. I was the strong one. The sister who always kept her emotions in check. The one who…

The one who never made waves.

Melody moved in closer and put a hand on my shoulder. What’s going on?

I don’t know. I woke up the next morning and he wasn’t there. His things were gone. His car was gone. I called him over a dozen times before he finally called me back. And when he did, he said he’d had to handle an emergency at the hospital and he was sorry he didn’t leave a note. And then he asked me to let him know what I was doing that day.

He asked what your schedule was? That’s kinda personal, isn’t it?

I thought so. In fact, that’s what we keep fighting about. He doesn’t want me to leave the house. He wants me to tell him where I’m going all the time. He wants to know who I talk to— I finally turned and faced her. "Melody—he doesn’t want me talking to anyone. It’s like…he suddenly became possessive."

Has he hit you?

My jaw dropped at the question—but I understood why she asked it. Melody had been in an abusive relationship in her life. She’d been hospitalized at the end and the guy?

Let’s just say you don’t put a witch, especially the granddaughter of the most powerful witch in the town, in the hospital and get away with it. And honestly…I don’t know what happened to him. Only Mama D does. And she’s not talk’n.

The thought that David would ever be physically abusive didn’t compute. No. He’s always been sweet and kind. It’s like he’s lost patience with me and all he wants is control.

Melody pulled me to her and wrapped her arms around me. I’m not going to say I told you so—

You just did.

—but I clearly remember warning you about his dual nature. He’s both man and animal, and he has twice the animal side. They’re possessive, territorial, and unpredictable in their actions. I’m not surprised this is happening. She pulled back and kept her hands on my upper arms. My eyes filled with tears. And Melody’s shoes were blurry as I stared down at them. Don’t let Mama D see you like this. I doubt David would survive. And I suggest he not be invited to Thanksgiving.

I pulled away. I can’t do that. I wiped my face and refocused on the ivy. It looked like it might actually hold. I’m not going to accept this is the way David is. There has to be a reason he changed so fast.

He might not be able to help it. Melody tapped her index finger to her cheek. Was he born or turned?

The question didn’t penetrate immediately, so I didn’t respond right away.

Ginger, was he born or turned? Do you know?

What?

Was he turned by a sire or was he born a vampire?

The question sounded ridiculous. "You can’t be born a vampire."

Melody nodded her head. It’s part of the lore. Then she lowered her hand and focused on me. Remember when I had my doubts about David?

Oh, boy did I. It was just last month when I’d noticed how not-nice she was to him and how he’d tried so hard to win her over. And I’d thought, when he’d been shot by silver saving me, Melody had mellowed toward him. I mean, after all, she’d fed him to help him recover.

I nodded in response to her question.

I’d been doing a lot of research—and I told you that. So did Mama D. In that research I came across a species called dhampir. They are the offspring of a vampire and a human.

I slowly shook my head. He’s never talked about his parents, and I can’t remember if he ever mentioned a sire. He might have and I just core-dumped it. But, Melody, that doesn’t explain his shifter nature.

One of his parents was a shifter.

He’s not a Dhampir, Mama D’s voice cut through the morning cold. We both turned to watch her approach the mailbox, her cane in her hand. Burt, her bat familiar, perched on her shoulder with his eyes closed. He was dozing off again. Max could sense that. She stopped at the mailbox. Where are Max and Mr. Twinkle?

She was referring to mine and Melody’s familiars. They were both cats. In unison, we pointed to the garden on the side of the house where her orange Twinkle could be seen stalking my black Max, and vice versa. They were wearing a circle into the dirt. They’ve been doing that all evening, Melody said.

Mama D turned to look at them and then shook her head. "Damn