Read The Witch and the Dead Online

Authors: Heather Blake

The Witch and the Dead (26 page)

BOOK: The Witch and the Dead
6.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Witches use them for protection from things like dark magic. Among other stuff. You're new to the Craft. You have a lot to learn. You have more abilities than just Broomcrafting, Vince. Spells, charms. You don't need the dark stuff.”

He glanced toward my house and kicked up another divot but said nothing.

“You should talk to the Elder,” I said.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Maybe.” Then he added, “Thanks for the invite, but I'm just going to go. See ya around.”

He spun around and walked off.

“Vince!” I called out.

He looked over his shoulder.

My heart was in my throat when I asked, “Did you love her at all?”

Raw emotion flashed across his face for the briefest moment, and I saw the truth before he shuttered it behind a steely glare.

“It doesn't really matter now, does it?” he said and strode off.

I watched him walk away, then replaced the three divots. I sat on Mrs. P's bench and tried to digest the conversation I'd just had.

“He loved her.”

“Yes, he did.” My mother's voice came from the branches above my head. “Until the quest to learn dark magic took over. It became his new love and Starla was cast aside.”

I didn't dare look upward for fear of giving away her position. This way to any onlookers who happened by I would simply look like I was talking to myself.

“This sorcery . . . ,” I began.

“He's hurt and angry and confused,” she said. “I'll talk to Dorothy. We'll work together to get this sorted. He'll come around.”

I picked up the acorn from where it had fallen. I was glad my mother sounded so confident about Vince, because I wasn't. I dropped the acorn back in my pocket.

At all.

Chapter Twenty-seven

I
t had been a busy Sunday. The morning had been spent cleaning up after the housewarming. I'd told only Nick of my unsettling conversation with Vince, and he agreed that the situation with him was probably going to get worse before it got better.

The rest of the day I'd helped Nick and Mimi finish packing up their house, which was now officially on the market. We probably loaded and unloaded Nick's truck a dozen times, and would need to do it probably a dozen times more to fully empty the place. Our weekends were booked for the foreseeable future, which was a good thing because it excused me from helping with the yard sale Ve had planned for next weekend. She was determined to get that space cleaned out and smudged, to exorcise all its lingering bad memories.

I yawned and stretched, feeling knots in my back. Moving was exhausting work, but it had been worth
every minute of it. Nick and Mimi had decided to head back to their old house to gather one last load of boxes for the night, and I'd stayed behind to feed Annie, Higgins, and Missy and to take the dogs for their nighttime walk around the square.

We'd just come back, and I'd fully expected to find Nick and Mimi here unloading their latest haul, but instead I found two notes beneath a dandelion paperweight on the kitchen island. The missives were being guarded by Annie.

Or perhaps she was lying in wait.

Annie loved making confetti.

The paperweight had been a good idea.

One note was from Mimi:
Went to Aunt Ve's for ice cream and to watch a movie. Be home later
. At the bottom, she'd signed an
M
inside a heart shape. Under that she added a PS:
We need to add ice cream to the grocery list ASAP. Chocolate chip. Double chocolate chunk. Anything chocolate.

My first thought was that it was a bit late for a movie on a school night, but Mimi was thirteen and . . .

That's when my second thought hit, hard and powerful.

She'd written
home
.

She'd be
home
later.

I glanced around. This was now her home.

Our
home.

Life was never going to be the same ever again.

And I couldn't have been happier about that.

Nick's note simply said
Meet me in front of Spellbound at 9:15
.

I looked at the furry faces watching me carefully. “Spellbound? What's this about?”

Not a single one answered me, though Higgins did slobber my hand. He slobbered everything, so I wasn't sure what it meant. Missy's stubby tail was wagging for
all it was worth, and she yapped happily. Annie's gaze shifted to the piece of paper in my hand. She reached a paw for it, and I quickly stuck the note in my pocket and rubbed her head. “Nope. Not for you.”

It was nine twelve, so I gave them all treats and told them I'd be back soon. In the mudroom, I slipped on my coat and my shoes and wondered why Nick had left the note. Was Harper okay? Wouldn't she have called? I knew she was having a rough time because of Marcus, so my heart was in my throat as I hotfooted it across the green.

As I jogged, I took a moment to breathe in that magical smell I loved so much. To appreciate it. The scent seemed especially strong tonight as the faux gaslights that lined the village sidewalks and the twinkle lights twined through tree branches cast a soft glow upon the village.

Moonbeams caught the colors of autumnal flowers overflowing from tall planters that dotted the pathways. It was a beautiful night, chilly but not too cold. Breezy but not too windy.

Vibrantly colored leaves crunched under my feet as I searched for answers as I neared Spellbound. The storefront was dark, as were the windows of Harper's apartment. My gaze settled on the manly silhouette pacing in front of the shop.

“Is Harper okay?” I asked when I was close enough for him to hear me. I noticed he'd showered. Damp hair curled around his ears, and he smelled soapy fresh. He wore jeans, a button-down, and a blazer. Definitely not moving clothes.

Light thrown from a gaslight nearby lit his smile. “She's fine. This isn't about Harper.”

Utterly confused, I said, “Then what's it about? Apparently it's ice cream and movie night at Ve's, and I'm sure we've only missed the opening cred—”

“It's about these,” he said, cutting me off.

He reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out what looked like a small block of square notepaper. On closer inspection, it was just notes held together with a paper clip. A lot of notes.

“Recipes for toasted walnuts?” I teased.

He laughed. “No. That was just a ruse.”

“What are they?” I reached for them, but he pulled them away.

I tipped my head in question, but he just kept on smiling.

I was starting to get a warm, mushy-gushy feeling in my stomach.

“Yesterday, at the housewarming party, I asked our guests to write down something they love about you.” He held up the notes. “These are the results.”

That mushy feeling bloomed into my chest. “When? How? Why?”

He ignored my questions. “This one is from Godfrey. He says, ‘Everything. I love everything. Except her flip-flops. Those have to go.'”

He held it up and tears came unbidden to my eyes when I saw Godfrey's chicken-scratch scrawl. “Nick . . .”

He said, “This one is from Ve.”

I blinked away tears. “I can't . . .”

He swallowed hard. “She says, ‘Everything. Darcy is light and goodness and all that is right in this world. She owns a piece of my heart, always and forever, and now you will, too, Nick.'”

Tears spilled down my cheeks. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with tiny daisies and handed it to me.

I shot him a questioning glance.

Nick was not a handkerchief kind of guy. Daisies yes, handkerchiefs no.

“Pepe sent it for you. He thought you might need it.”

Which only made the tears fall faster. “He's an intuitive kind of mouse.”

“That he is.” He held up a note. “This is from Archie via Terry: ‘Darcy had me at hello.'”

I laughed. I loved that bird something fierce.

“From Harmony: ‘Everything, of course, but especially her love of all creatures great and small and those slightly smelly from having been in a Dumpster . . .'

“This one,” Nick said, holding up the next note, “is from Glinda.”

Smiling through tears, I said, “Oh no. I'm not sure I want to know. . . .”

“She says, ‘Love? Let's not get crazy. But I do admire Darcy's ability to see the good in people who cannot see it in themselves.'”

Fresh tears filled my eyes.

“Starla says, ‘Everything. Absolutely everything.'” He flipped to the next note. “This bundle is from Mimi.”

It was three or four stapled pages, and my heart swelled.

“I'll let you read those on your own, or I might not get through this,” he said, his voice strained. “Let's just say there are many, many things she loves about you.”

The lump in my throat made it impossible to talk. I nodded.

“From Mrs. P and Pepe: ‘
Toutes les petites choses.
All the little things. Darcy
is
love.'”

I had to look away to just . . . catch my breath. My blurry eyes tried to focus on the flowers in the window box below Harper's display window, but the yellow geraniums and purple pansies blended together like something from an impressionist-style painting.

“From Terry: ‘I consider Darcy to be the daughter Ve and I never had. I love her. If you hurt her, I will hurt you. Understood?'”

I couldn't help but sniffle and laugh at the same time as Nick read that one.

With a lifted eyebrow, he said, “Terry's kind of scary.”

Which made me laugh harder.

“This one is from Evan. He says, ‘Hello-o-o, everything! Simply, I love her.'”

I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

“From Harper . . .”

I set my hand on his. “I . . . Nick.”

He took a step back and drew in a long, deep breath. “She says, ‘Darcy already knows how much I love her. It's an indescribable love that can't truly be put into words. I think you know the feeling, Nick. I see it in your eyes when you look at her. For that, I love
you
, and I'm looking forward to the day when I become your sister, too. Welcome to our crazy family.'”

I had to sit down. There were no benches nearby, so I opted to sit on the curb. Nick sat next to me, his shoulder and leg touching mine as though we were connected.

I supposed we were. And had been for quite some time.

“You didn't have to do all this,” I said, emotion cutting the words into shards.

“I didn't think so at first, either. Trust me—I tried asking you other ways, but I kept getting interrupted. By Vince, by Harper, by Terry . . . And I started thinking that maybe the universe was trying to tell me something. Because without them,” he said, cupping the notes in his hands and lifting them up, “we wouldn't quite be us. They've shaped our relationship as much as we have, taught us lessons, helped us grow. . . . So I knew they had to be part of this.”

This.

Nick was right. Absolutely right. The people in our
lives had helped shaped us. Loved us. Healed us. For Nick to think of including them tonight made me love him more than I ever dreamed possible.

He shifted sideways, to face me. “And if you didn't notice, the predominant trait that our friends love about you is
everything
. Just like I love everything about you. Your smile, your laugh, your kindness. I love the way you love Mimi. Oh God, the way you love her . . . I love that you don't mind Higgins' drool. I love the way when you're sleeping, you pull the covers up to your nose every . . . single . . . time. I even love that you try to talk to me when you're brushing your teeth.
Everything.
I love everything. Which is why I brought you back here, to where it all began on a stormy June night right about this time when we came upon each other right here at this doorway. . . .”

The memory was one I'd never forget. I'd been new in town, and I'd just come from a job acting as a tooth fairy that hadn't gone exactly as planned. I was running late for a town meeting . . . as was Nick.

It was the first time in such a long time that I'd felt
anything
for a man that it had taken me aback. It had scared me . . . and given me hope all at once.

He said, “I knew the moment I saw you standing there in your sparkles and tiara with that cautious look in your beautiful eyes that I could love you. It didn't take long for me to realize just how much. I can't imagine living the rest of my life without you by my side. Darcy Ann Merriweather, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife, of letting me love you for as long as I live? Longer, even . . .”

I'd tried to picture this moment a thousand times, maybe more. But I hadn't even come close to imagining the gift Nick had just given me. I wanted to tell him all the things I loved about
him
. The list was long. So long. But mostly I wanted to thank him for making me
believe in love again. True love. The forever kind of love. But I couldn't find the words. They were trapped in a web of emotion in my throat. Later. I'd tell him later. I'd probably be talking his ear off all night long. I knew instinctively he wouldn't mind a bit.

I tried to pull myself together, but the knot in my throat just wouldn't let any words pass. I could barely swallow. Breathe. As he patiently waited for my answer, I couldn't even say “Yes, I'll marry you” like a normal person. I could only nod. And nod some more.

But Nick seemed to know what—and how—I was feeling. A smile stretched across his face as he set the notes he'd been holding on the ground behind us and reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a ring. He held my shaking hand tightly and slipped the ring on my finger.

As I gazed at the bright round diamond surrounded with smaller geometrically cut diamonds in a bezel setting, I almost started crying all over again when I realized what I was looking at. My chest ached but I managed to squeak out, “A starburst!”

“It reminded me of you when I saw it,” Nick said, kissing my hand, “and I knew it had to be yours.”

I threw my arms around him and held him tight. I felt like I could sit here with him all night. Holding him tight. Feeling his love. Feeling
our
love.

And breathing in that special magic in the air . . .

*   *   *

Across the village green, a little dog sat on the window bench in the master bedroom of her new home, watching the romantic scene in front of the bookshop unfold. Even without being able to hear the words, she could feel the emotion of the moment all the way down to her soul.

Next to her, the Elder sighed.

“It's everything we wanted, isn't it, Mel?” she asked.

“It's more than I ever dreamed when we collaborated to play matchmaker,” Melina Sawyer replied. “Mimi is giddy, and nothing makes me happier than seeing her happy.”

“How are you adjusting to living under the same roof as all three?” the Elder asked.

Melina shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. The Coven of Seven had denied her request to create a new Craft that would allow her to hop out of her canine form and into another at will. It had to be a unanimous vote, and there had been one holdout. Melina knew just the witch who'd denied her. It was no surprise, really.

“Mel?” the Elder asked, tenderness in her voice.

“The spell you gave me has been immensely helpful, but as you know, it leaves me drained.”

“Adjustments are being made using your feedback. It's a new spell, so it will take time to work out all the kinks.”

The spell allowed Mel's spirit form to lapse into a sleep state while her canine form remained awake. She'd been testing the spell these past few weeks and was slowly adjusting to its quirks. “I know, but . . .”

BOOK: The Witch and the Dead
6.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Abandoned: A Thriller by Cody McFadyen
04 Lowcountry Bordello by Boyer, Susan M.
Death Of A Diva by Derek Farrell
The Boat Girls by Margaret Mayhew
Rainbow Valley by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Snowed In with Her Ex by Andrea Laurence
Kill Station by Diane Duane; Peter Morwood