Divined To Death

By Patti Larsen

Sydlynn Hayle is back in an all-new adventure! When she's recruited to keynote at a convention for alternative magicks, Syd's reluctance to participate turns to regret when she discovers the body of a fellow attendee. Her past comes back to literally haunt her when she's asked to assist in solving the murder in a venue where magic is forbidden!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Feb 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781988700885

Patti Larsen

About me, huh? Well, my official bio reads like this: Patti Larsen is a multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in her head. But that sounds so freaking formal, doesn’t it? I’m a storyteller who hears character's demands so loudly I have to write them down. I love the idea of sports even though sports hate me. I’ve dabbled in everything from improv theater to film making and writing TV shows, singing in an all girl band to running my own hair salon.But always, always, writing books calls me home.I’ve had my sights set on world literary domination for a while now. Which means getting my books out there, to you, my darling readers. It’s the coolest thing ever, this job of mine, being able to tell stories I love, only to see them all shiny and happy in your hands... thank you for reading.As for the rest of it, I’m short (permanent), slightly round (changeable) and blonde (for ever and ever). I love to talk one on one about the deepest topics and can’t seem to stop seeing the big picture. I happily live on Prince Edward Island, Canada, home to Anne of Green Gables and the most beautiful red beaches in the world, with my pug overlord and overlady, six lazy cats and Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Book preview

Divined To Death

A Hayle Coven Cozy Mystery

Smashwords Edition

Patti Larsen

Copyright 2020 Patti Larsen

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to the vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Dedicated to Dee Lane Mock, one of the first

Hayle coven members.

Ethpeal would be proud.

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Chapter One

I’d faced life and death, destruction and defeat, the impending end of existence as I knew it and came out the other side stronger, more powerful, able to handle anything the Universe and Creator could throw at me. After all, I was Sydlynn Hayle, coven leader, Creator’s vessel, host to a demon, a princess of the Unseelie court and the essence of all vampires, right? Not to mention carrying around the power of the elements and the black blossom of sorcery wrapped up in one dark haired, blue eyed package (who really could use a wardrobe upgrade and a bang trim, but I digress).

I thought standing up to the Brotherhood and their sorcery was a struggle. Or wrangling with the North American Witches Council, always a treat. How about the Dumont family, (a perennial favorite) the ever-delightful Chosen of the Light with their stakes and burnings and perverted sense of right and wrong. And, best for last, my least favorite person on the planet, the clever but still defeated Ameline Benoit (may she never, ever rest in peace but suffer for all eternity, halleluiah).

Drach riding fighting stray creatures who’d invaded our Universe, and moderating werewolf/vampire relations while keeping them from their historical animosity, all while enjoying conversations with the talking fortress on the Stronghold plane aside, I’d leaped into fate enough times, confronted my own end and that of those I loved without thinking twice, I figured I was good to go in any situation.

I’ll do you one better. I was a mom and survived two kids (so far) without choking them, so.

Go me.

Thing was, everything I’d done up to now? Walk in the freaking park. Ask me to throw magic around, kick some bad guy butt, put my life on the line for my family and friends and take on gargantuan events for breakfast? Anytime, anywhere. Name it. I’m the gal.

Why was it then nothing could have prepared me for the horror show that was the Alternative Magicks Convention opening night meet and greet? Evade and avoid was going to be my tactic this weekend, while I wondered why I’d even come at all.

It will be good for Hayle family relations with the rest of the witch world, my second, Shenka Hensley, said when the invitation came in. They want you to keynote! And be on a panel. Syd, this is fantastic.

Things are rather quiet right now, Max, the diamond-eyed drach leader and my comrade-in-wings against the interloping creatures we fought off on a regular basis had informed me. Nothing my people can’t handle without you. Be well and have fun. Like the towering lord of the drach knew what fun was. Right.

You’ll do splendidly, Mom assured me when I asked tentatively if she thought I should accept. In her typical Miriam Hayle enthusiasm, she was all for it. What a wonderful opportunity, sweetheart, to reach out to other witches. You’re so bound to the family, it’s a good thing to make friends for the coven.

It’s a weekend at a hotel with the bed to yourself, my darling husband Quaid said, grinning over Ethie’s head while Gabriel snored and drooled on my shoulder, Sassafras’s amber eyes opening slowly before closing from his perch on my pillow, Galleytrot grunting from the floor, the scent of dog a little overpowering since he’d been out in the rain before curling up on the carpet next to me.

As for my silver Persian, when I asked him to join me? The fuzzy traitor turned tail and sashayed away without comment.

And Gram? That most incredible of witches, sorceress and retired Enforcer, Ethpeal Hayle, who had survived hardships beyond the ken of ordinary magicks?

Heard convention and laughed.

And laughed.

And laughed. Until she cackled herself into a dizzy spell and had to sit down while still laughing, the miserable old no longer a witch.

Leaving me alone, in this place, with these people, wishing I’d listened, not to those who encouraged me to accept but to the furry behind of my cat and the nasty giggling of my grandmother.

Which led me to my most current encounter becoming irritatingly repetitious of everyone I’d spoken to so far this evening. The tiny, elderly witch who pinned me to the bar between a stool and two others with their backs to us (how rude), sipped the overly-sweet cocktail nabbed from a passing tray, her third since she started complaining at me (my participation unnecessary, apparently) ten minutes ago (I kid you not), alternating slurping giant gulps of alcohol and dumping all of her cumulative angst on little old me without time for a word in edgewise or blessed escape.

She’s rather annoying, vampire finally commented, not her typical reaction. She had the kind of patience that usually kept me from doing things rather unpleasant to other people on a regular basis. No small task.

Just smite her, demon snarled with a flare of amber fire that I’m sure had to have reached my eyes. If it did, the tiny witch (still didn’t catch her name and wasn’t sure I wanted to know) showed no indication, prattling on instead. I might as well have been a houseplant for all she required my feedback on her tirade.

I could make a little earthquake, Shaylee suggested. The Sidhe princess who made up the third of my internal trio was the sweetest of us, but still had her own dark streak, thank goodness, or she never would have survived our company.

How do you make a little earthquake? I grasped onto that, desperate for the distraction.

Want me to show you? She tinkled a laugh.

Don’t tempt me. I brushed off the idea almost immediately. Because a bit of a shakeup might be fun, in theory.

She sighed. Honestly, what does she expect from us?

That’s when I told Bargot—you know Bargot Millner, right? The Millner family? Lovely people, if a bit stuffy for my tastes. I didn’t even get to nod as the woman rushed on, another toss of her glass cleaning her out and a fourth (!) procured and started before she went on. "That’s when I told her how wretched the whole council has become in the last five years. I mean, honestly. My jaw jumped but I kept my temper because now she was getting personal. My mother’s old second, Erica Plower, was council leader, as my mother was before her. This tiny creature was hitting a bit close to home. We barely have any leadership anymore, young witches and covens getting away with who knows what, the whole of witchdom going to hell in a handbasket while the high and mighty council just sits there at Harvard and lets progress ruin everything." Her white hair, once likely tucked into a neat bun at the base of her neck, now hung a bit loose, strands escaping, her cheeks flushed from drink, eyes bleary. If she was five feet I was a baby drach (do drach even have babies?), tiny to the point of emaciation, my concern growing at the volume of alcohol she consumed. Witches had weird reactions to the stuff, could turn dark and dangerous fast. I had no doubt I could control her if she went off, but I still looked around in nervous worry for someone of authority to take control of the situation.

Oh, and don’t get me started on Coven Hall. There she went again. The kids coming out of Harvard these days, pathetic. Can barely hold a spell together. Now she was slurring her words, a bit of her drink sloshing over one hand. I almost reached for her to steady her, but she flailed that hand out of my reach. And the Enforcers! Have you seen what they’ve settled on to call Enforcers these days? Okay then. I’d had enough. How was I going to escape? You really need to do something about that, you know. If you’re as important as they say you are.

And therein lay the crux of why the entire decision to come to this convention was a terrible, terrible idea. Because from the moment I arrived? Every single person I’d spoken to had either opened with, So, you’re the great Sydlynn Hayle, huh? or proceeded at some point to demand I do something about problems or issues they took offense at.

Because we’re some kind of supernatural Mrs. Fixit. Demon’s opinions of said people was expected, naturally, along with her temper. Fact was, I agreed entirely with her sentiments.

Patience, vampire sighed. Compassion and kindness for the less worthy.

I winced, though my companion didn’t notice, her fifth drink now gone and her sixth making her wobbly. I’d long since chosen to block out what she was saying, though when she leaned a little too far to the left I found myself guiding her, with a hint of power for help, to the nearest barstool so she wouldn’t end up in a heap on the floor.

That’s not very nice. I wasn’t expecting that sort of snobbery from the cool and quiet essence within me.

Hardly that, she sent while the little old witch hiccupped with a faint, ’Scuse me, before resting her head on the bar and passing out. And yet, vampire sent with precision, accurate.

Okay, I got her inference as I eased my way free of the snoring bundle of full velvet skirt and toxic gas, doing my best to tuck into a corner not far away, between the end of the bar and the doors that led to freedom and my hotel room and possible escape back to Wilding Springs with my apologies to the organizer.

Still, I sent. Be kind. Just because most of these witches aren’t as powerful as us doesn’t mean they are lesser than.

Except, she corrected me with that same coolness and logic I’d come to find frustrating in times like this, if one is to be entirely honest, in the realm of power, they are lesser than.

Vamp’s got a point, demon sent, her temper cooled somewhat but simmering below the surface, waiting for the next person to approach us and be either condescending or demanding for her chance to pounce.

I’m with Syd, Shaylee sent while demon sighed.

Of course you are. Demon loved teasing the Sidhe princess, a staple of my existence. How’s that a shocker?

I found myself grinning into the drink I’d been nursing for the last forty-five minutes. Thank you, I sent. I don’t know what I’d do without the three of you. They murmured their agreement while I went on. The facts aside, we