Every witch way but demo.., p.1
Every Witch Way but Demon (Magical Misfits Mysteries, #6), page 1
Every Witch Way but Demon
Magical Misfits Mysteries, Volume 6
K.E. O'Connor
Published by K.E. O'Connor, 2023.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
EVERY WITCH WAY BUT DEMON
First edition. January 24, 2023.
Copyright © 2023 K.E. O'Connor.
Written by K.E. O'Connor.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
FREE BOOK
Chapter 1 | Vole problem
Chapter 2 | Dancing queen
Chapter 3 | Night swimming
Chapter 4 | Angel swan dive
Chapter 5 | Bad angel
Chapter 6 | Magic show
Chapter 7 | An unpopular witch
Chapter 8 | A fluttering killer
Chapter 9 | Wake up!
Chapter 10 | Too close to home
Chapter 11 | Booked!
Chapter 12 | Landlady lies
Chapter 13 | Angel down
Chapter 14 | Magical mission
Chapter 15 | Coach party
Chapter 16 | Goodbye, good guy
Chapter 17 | A serpent among us
Chapter 18 | Weapons at the ready
Chapter 19 | Best laid plans
Chapter 20 | No place like it
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Chapter 1
Vole problem
“Anyone would think it was angel plucking season.” I leaped and landed nimbly next to Sage, one large white feather in my mouth and another clasped between my murder mittens.
“They get like this when they’re stressed. It’s a scientific fact stress makes your fur fall out. I guess that goes for angel feathers, too.” Sage blasted off the ground and caught an impressive number of white wing feathers. She landed on her stubby black paws, her wheeled harness clunking behind her.
We sat in companionable silence for a moment, chewing on feathers as the angels darted back and forth like giant sparkly balls of tense righteousness.
Angel feathers had a curious taste. They were a little like sugary, warm cinnamon buns, but there was a sharp aftertaste, suggesting you tread carefully when messing with these almost immortal creatures.
“Look out! More non-magicals arriving.” Sage wheeled herself back until she was nestled by the door of Vorana Stowell’s bookstore.
I joined her and spat out the last of the feather. The tiny feathers at the base of the spine always got stuck in my throat and made me gag. “It’s no wonder the angels are in full-on panic mode with so many non-magicals dropping by. These days, they almost outnumber us.” That wasn’t strictly true. Crimson Cove was your average-sized cute up-and-coming town. But this little town hadn’t had a moment of non-magical peace in ages. And there was no end in sight to their growing obsession with visiting and poking into every corner. And when you poked at magic too hard, it had a nasty habit of turning on you.
“Uh-huh.” Sage had pulled herself up using the window ledge behind us and was peering into the bookstore. Just like me, she always kept an eye on her witch.
I didn’t mind Sage giving me only half her attention. Our bonded witches were prone to mishaps, so we needed to ensure they behaved.
“The angels will need to be doubly careful when the scarabs’ performance begins. The non-magicals will fall under any enchantment those scarabs sneak out while they dance.” I glanced over my shoulder. “What’s keeping our witches? We should head over there soon, so we get decent seats.”
“You’ll have the best seat in the house, perched on Zandra’s shoulder.”
I cat-smiled to myself. Zandra Crypt had shoulders made for my murder mittens to rest on. Not too broad or too bony, usually covered in some soft or practical material, and always available when I needed to settle in my most favorite of places.
“They shouldn’t let it go ahead,” Sage grumbled. “Nothing good will come out of this scarab matinee show. Why let those creatures visit when the angels know they’ll stir up trouble?”
“It’s hard to say no to a scarab performance. They’re beautiful. And we all missed out the last time because of that unfortunate angel killing incident,” I said. “Their performances are always enchanting. Well worth the risk.”
“Sometimes, they’re literally enchanting. I don’t trust those giant glittering bugs as far as I can kick them with one of my back legs.” Sage was still looking through the window, her gaze intent and her paws pressed against the glass.
Personally, I looked forward to the performance. It had been many years since I’d seen a scarab dance. Once experienced, never forgotten. And this scarab lineage, the Scarabetic-Green, was worthy of all commendations for their shows.
I studied my furry friend. “You seem stressed. Vorana is fine, isn’t she?”
Sage huffed out a breath, misting the glass. “She’s not. She’s putting on a brave face in front of everybody, but there’s something wrong. I know my witch better than I know myself.”
I turned, tucking my wonderfully white tail around me, so no clumsy non-magical stood on it, and peered through the window into the cozy, mildly cluttered bookstore with mismatched bookshelves, comfy reading chairs, and cute knick-knacks on the shelves.
The place was Vorana’s pride and joy. She was a wonderfully bookish witch and loved nothing more than spending an evening poring over a new textbook or a fictional epic she’d discovered at one of the many book fairs and shows she attended.
“Do you know what’s wrong with her?” I asked.
“She hasn’t said, but when she thinks no one is watching, she gets sad. She sighs and paces around muttering to herself.”
I twitched my booping snooter. “Vorana would say if she were unhappy about me and Zandra staying in the basement, wouldn’t she? If we’ve overstayed our welcome, let us know and we’ll find a new home.” I didn’t want to leave our cozy basement dwelling. It was warm, safe, and was exactly what my witch needed as she found her feet in this complicated world of magic.
“You aren’t the issue. If it was as simple as that, I’d have told you to sling your hooks ages ago.”
“Always nice to have a friend who speaks her mind.”
Sage snorted. “When you get to my age, there’s no point in beating around the bush. You never know when you’ll take your last breath, so I’m not wasting mine by being fake nice. Vorana enjoys having you around. She loves to cook for you and gets pleasure in making people happy with her food.”
“We take great pleasure in eating it. Every scrap.” Zandra and I had developed deliciously round bellies since moving into Vorana’s basement. She never let us leave the house on an empty stomach and always made wonderful home-cooked dinners for us. She was like the mother Zandra had never had, although younger. Maybe more like a slightly older sister with incredible cooking skills.
“Could Vorana be stressed about work?” I said. “You don’t think she’s getting bored with owning the bookstore, do you? She works long hours.”
“Impossible. Vorana lives for those bits of dead trees stuck together with glue.” Sage huffed at the window some more. “She’s not sleeping.”
I rested a paw on top of Sage’s flexed murder mitten. “When Vorana’s ready, she’ll tell you what’s troubling her. Maybe she’s thinking of expanding the store but doesn’t have the finances. Or she wants to take a vacation and isn’t sure how she’ll keep the bookstore open. It doesn’t have to be anything bad.”
“We don’t keep secrets.” Sage glanced at me and wrinkled her booping snooter.
I shrugged off the comment. Maybe I kept one or two secrets from my witch, but it was in her best interest. Sage didn’t agree. “Vorana is only not telling you because she doesn’t want to worry you.”
“That’s what we’re here for! We take the burden off our witches. We’re their sounding board and their guidance when they get stuck. Besides, Vorana wouldn’t hide anything from me.”
“She’s doing it because she loves you, not because she wants to exclude you. Take it as a compliment that she’s working through this issue on her own.”
Sage grumbled to herself as she continued to stare through the window. There were several customers inside, browsing the stacks, but they appeared to be passing the time rather than serious book buyers.
Vorana was always generous with allowing people into her store to while away an hour. She even provided free coffee and cookies, which were always popular.
I cringed as a group of non-magicals brushed past, chattering excitedly about the scarab performance. Their energy felt hot and disconnected, but I shared their sense of excitement over the event.
Scarabs were an incredibly powerful, ancient spec
Now, the scarabs were back to give the performance they’d promised without the encore of a murder. But with so many non-magicals in town, they were vulnerable if those scarabs did anything slippery. And knowing scarabs, they most likely would. There’d be no malice behind it, but there could be a whole lot of trouble to clean up once they were gone.
“Three dead mice did nothing to improve Vorana’s mood,” Sage said.
I turned back to her. “You presented her with three wonderful gifts all at once?”
“I got lucky. Found a nest. She simply groaned, grabbed the brush and dustpan, swept them up, and tossed them in the trash. Not even a thank you. And no smile. I haven’t heard her belly laugh in days.”
“Have you tried vole? They have wonderfully soft fur. And those adorable little snouts. That would raise a smile.”
“I want a squirrel.”
“A... squirrel?” The monstrous tree rats of this universe had been my nemesis since I’d been turned into a cat. They loved nothing more than hurling acorns, insults, and kicking bark in my face every time I tried to grab one and teach it a lesson in how to behave around an ancient, once-powerful demigoddess.
“Yep. That would make Vorana smile.”
“I could help you catch one.” The thought of taking down a troublesome tree rat made my toe beans tingle.
“Juno! There you are.” The most incredible witch to grace my company stepped out of the bookstore. Zandra Crypt was tall, dark-haired, and pale, and when she smiled, my worries went away. We were the perfectly bonded pair.
“I was keeping Sage company while we watched the crowds walk to the stage. It’ll be a packed show.”
Her gaze flicked to the chewed white feathers on the ground and she smirked. “Of course you were. Not getting up to too much mischief, I hope.”
“Never. I’m surprised you’ve been so long in the bookstore.” As perfect as my witch was, she’d never developed a love of reading and claimed book dust made her sneeze.
Sorcha Creer came out of the store next, covered her nose and mouth with a large red hankie, and gave an almighty sneeze. “Zandra was helping me. I still can’t get over this flu or whatever is making me look like the Bride of Chucky and feel like Frankenstein’s monster. We were flicking through spell books to find a cure or at least something to relieve the symptoms.”
Sorcha was an impressive part vampire who ran the best café in Crimson Cove, Bites and Delights. She always had a sunny smile and a kind word and was one of the best individuals to go to for the latest gossip. But recently, she’d struggled with a malingering illness that had gotten its claws into her and refused to let go.
“Any joy in finding something to help you?” I asked.
“There are some tinctures I want to try.” Sorcha looked over her shoulder back into the store. “Is everything okay with Vorana? She seemed gloomy.”
“She is gloomy. There’s something very wrong with her. What did she say to you?” Sage’s eyes were narrowed, and her accusatory stare latched onto Sorcha.
“Um... she said it was all good, and she was just busy. But I don’t know...” Sorcha sneezed loudly again.
“We even had to twist her arm to come to the scarab performance,” Zandra said. “And Vorana is usually the first one to suggest a social event. She loves to mingle.”
“Perhaps the scarab dance will improve her mood. We should hurry and join the others,” I said. “Otherwise, we’ll miss the start.”
“We’re still waiting for Vorana,” Zandra said. “She didn’t want to hustle her customers out and lose a sale.”
We lingered for another five minutes while more people hurried past. The customers left, and a sulky-looking Vorana emerged from the store. She locked up and turned, her arms crossed over her chest.
Sorcha chuckled and linked her arm through Vorana’s elbow. “This is just what you need. Time away from work.”
“Time is money.”
“It’s also a chance to hang out with your bestest friends in the whole world. I’ve barely seen you at the café this week.”
“Because you’re sick, and I don’t want whatever it is you’ve got.”
I glanced up at Vorana as we walked along the busy street toward the temporary stage set up for the scarabs. I’d never heard her speak so sharply to anyone. Even when people were rude to her face, Vorana was always sweet.
Sage bumped me with her shoulder. “Told you something was wrong with her.”
The witches continued to chat, Vorana somewhat grudgingly, as we dodged and weaved through the crowd and got closer to the stage set up on the green space in the center of town.
“There’s seating set aside for magic users,” Sorcha said. “The angels thought it best if we didn’t mingle with the non-magicals. So much power concentrated in one place could get sticky.” She yawned and blinked several times. “I hope I can stay awake. Even though I’ve had Elijah, Sammy, and Tinkerbell on my bed keeping an eye on me, I still don’t feel rested.”
That got my attention. Tinkerbell cared about no one but herself, but if she was watching over Sorcha, she must be worried about her. Tinkerbell was usually rude, dismissive, and pretended Sorcha hadn’t provided her with a free place to live, all the food she could eat, and a soft bed when she’d had nowhere else to turn.
Their sort of bond was odd. But given Sorcha was part vampire, she’d never have a full bond with any familiar. It wasn’t important. Sorcha loved Tinkerbell, no matter what she did. That was the sign of a true cat lover.
“Have you patched things up with Sammy yet?” Sage said.
I lifted my booping snooter, my gut tightening. “Not yet.”
We’d barely spoken in weeks. Sammy had become a different cat for some reason and preferred Tinkerbell’s company to mine. And although I hid it well, I grieved his loss.
Things had never officially ended between us, but he’d made it clear he was no longer interested in being a part of my life. He’d stopped calling at the house, dropping by animal control to see if he could help on jobs, and he spent all his time with Tinkerbell and any other random pretty female who took his eye.
I wish I knew why he’d changed and why he felt he didn’t need to tell me things were over between us. I was hurt, angry, and embarrassed by the situation. I should have stuck to my values and not dated anything with fur. But Sammy’s personality had shone through, so I’d ignored his fluffiness and found joy. Not anymore.
“You’re better off without him blundering around in your life,” Sage said. “Relationships are hard work. Why bother? You’ll eventually get chucked away for a younger model or one with better teeth.” She exposed her yellowed, nubbed teeth.
“We’ll focus on our witches. They’re the most important people in our lives.” I was happy with Zandra, but our love was different from the warm snuggles I used to enjoy with Sammy. “Let’s just enjoy today.”
The green space that was the venue for the scarabs’ performance had been transformed by a raised stage, rows of seating in front of it. A sign only visible to those with magic revealed the righthand side seats were reserved for us. The rest were for the non-magicals.
I hissed as a non-magical got too close to my tail, almost squishing me with his clod-hopper boots.
“Let’s get you out of the way of the clumsies.” Zandra lifted me onto her shoulder, while Vorana scooped Sage into her arms and cradled her.
As soon as I was up high, Cythera, head of the local branch of Angel Force, was easy to spot as she strode around barking orders at her angels. Every angel under her command was on duty, watching the non-magicals and making sure everyone behaved. The angels were on strict instruction not to display their wings and to keep flying to a minimum. Although from the amount of feathers I’d been catching with Sage, they were taking to the wing as often as they liked. It was much faster than walking.
“There’s Torrin and Voss,” Sorcha said. “Let’s go sit with them.”
