So You Think You Can Turn Back Time?

  THE TIME WITCH SERIES

  BOOK FOUR

  A.A. ALBRIGHT

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organisations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

  Text Copyright © A.A. Albright 2024

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  Website: https://aaalbright.com

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  Contents

  Preface: A Note on the Story and Timeline

  1. One True Love

  2. Dead Man’s Cove

  3. Done and Dusted

  4. Hot Cross Hun

  5. A Delusional Dinner

  6. A Proper Prince Charming

  7. Bell and Stell’s Excellent Adventure

  8. Visiting Vince

  9. A Dose of the Tingles

  10. Losing Faith

  11. The Billygoat’s Gruff

  12. Teesy’s Troubles

  13. Dancing at Lughnasadh

  14. Sparks on the Sand

  15. Stress Eating

  16. How to Kill a Werewolf

  17. The Rule of Vince

  18. Teesy Tells All

  19. If You Could Do It All Over Again…

  20. Seb’s Sacrifice

  21. The Mystery-Solving Moggies

  22. The Perfect Plan

  23. I’ll Give You Reasons…

  24. Hercule O’Mara

  25. The Accomplice

  26. Where I Belong

  27. Harvest Time Again

  Other Books by A.A. Albright

  Preface: A Note on the Story and Timeline

  Book Four, the final book in the Time Witch series, is told from Belinda’s point of view. The story begins about eleven months after Essie’s tale ended – we are now in the following August, moving ever closer to the next harvest festival …

  Chapter 1

  One True Love

  Ever since I was thirteen, I’ve believed that we each have one true love. It all started with one of my weekly chores: from the time I was old enough to walk to the shop on my own, I went to pick up Aunt Ava’s magazines along with my comics.

  In those earlier years I had no interest in what my aunt read, but as I became a teenager, my superhero and boarding school adventures didn’t seem nearly as interesting as the romantic stories in Ava’s weeklies. On the way home I would stop at the old bandstand on the promenade, where I would eat my chocolate bar, drink my cola (the cola was a big no-no with my aunt, so it had to be guzzled in secret), and devour every single tale.

  After all of my research, I ought to have been well-prepared when I finally met my one true love. Instead, I was terrified. There he was, coming out of the water at Dead Man’s Cove, like a cross between Aquaman and one of Ava’s romantic heroes. However, he was a little different than in my daydreams.

  I’d always pictured him with light hair and blue eyes; I couldn’t see this guy’s eyes from such a distance, but seeing as he was olive-skinned and dark-haired, I doubted his eyes would be blue. But my goodness, he was gorgeous.

  My chest felt tight and my stomach went all a-fluttery. I stood back out of sight and watched him, as he walked onto the beach and towelled himself off.

  I said nothing to him that first day at Dead Man’s Cove – I was far too shocked that he’d finally arrived. I soon found out who he was, though. He was Garda Detective Vince Brady, a witch who wasn’t too fond of the supernatural world. Rumour had it that he was deeply unhappy about being posted in Granvar Bay. While we weren’t one of the hidden, witch-controlled enclaves, we had a small supernatural population.

  The women in my coven knew all of the gossip, as always. They knew Vince’s history – a witch born in the human world to a witch father and a weredog mother. At the time, his parents’ marriage was illegal in the hidden enclaves, so they said to heck with it all, and lived their lives as far away from witches as they could manage.

  I didn’t think Vince’s backstory should totally put him off Granvar Bay – most of the supernaturals here disliked the hidden enclaves just as much as he did – but I worried, all the same. Would this man, so gorgeous, so perfect, so absolutely the guy of my dreams, ever consider a life with a witch like me?

  It was on a Saturday night, at the community hall’s weekly dance, when we finally met. I’d been about to leave, actually – he looked especially handsome that evening, and just about every woman in town was vying for his attention. I said my goodbyes to the witches I’d come with and headed for the door. But as I went to open it, he crossed the hall in great big strides.

  ‘You’re already leaving?’ he said. ‘You just got here.’

  I blinked at him. ‘I … well, I was just …’

  He gave me a cheeky grin. ‘I’ve seen you around town about a dozen times, but you’re always rushing off in another direction. And the one night I might actually get to introduce myself, you go and rush off again.’ Extending a hand, he said, ‘I’m Vince. Vince Brady.’

  As I shook his hand, his eyes met mine, and in those eyes I could see that he was attracted to me in a big way, just as I was to him. I was still a little terrified, I must admit. Did he know, yet, that I was a witch? Would he look at me differently, when I told him? He was a witch himself, so even if he hated the hidden enclaves, he couldn’t hate all witches, could he?

  It certainly didn’t help my nerves to find that Vince was even better-looking up close. His eyes were a deep shade of hazel, and he had the cutest smattering of freckles across his nose and cheekbones. I found myself simply staring at him, thinking: yum.

  We danced and drank that night, but we didn’t have much of a conversation. It felt far too lovely, and I didn’t want it to end. It wasn’t until our first official date (mini-golf and dinner the following weekend) that I told him what I was. He seemed hesitant, mumbling something about having a bad history where witches were concerned, and I assumed things were over before they’d truly begun. But I was only back home three minutes when he called me and asked me for a second date.

  For a long time, things were perfect. Vince decided that actually, some witches were kind of all right, and maybe Granvar Bay wasn’t so bad either. I’d like to take sole responsibility, but I think that Ava’s baking might have had a little to do with it. He grew to love what he’d always hated, and asked me to marry him, telling me he’d remain in our town for the rest of his life.

  I thought I had it all – the coven I loved, the land I loved, and a gorgeous fiancé. I should have guessed that something so perfect could never last.

  After an evening out with me, Vince was kidnapped by some Time Witches. Not all Time Witches are evil (my sister and her husband have that power, and my uncle dabbles, too), but the kidnappers definitely were.

  Vince was in the vineyard, about to head home after dropping me off, when they knocked him out and took him to an underground lair. I’d never imagined that there were actual underground lairs in the world – had real-life villains invented them, or had they copied their comic-book counterparts? Either way, the Time Witches kept him hidden for a long time, drawing on his energy, his memories and his personality, all so that one of them could take his place.

  Eventually we found the real Vince, and his impersonator was sent to Witchfield Prison where he belonged, but … these things can take their toll.

  Vince hated Granvar Bay all over again. In his mind it was riddled with Time Witches, and evil lurked around every corner. He was jumpy, living on coffee and stress, and he was having a hard time doing his job. So, he upped and left, not really letting me know whether it was a forever thing or an until I get my head sorted thing.

  He seemed to change his mind on a daily basis. One day, he told me that his new position was only temporary. He couldn’t live without seeing me every day, he said, so he would definitely return to Granvar Bay. The very next day he told me that, actually, he was thinking of applying for a full-time role in Dublin, and maybe it was time to call our relationship a day. The day after that, he said he was sorry, and he begged me to stay with him no matter what. He even broached the subject of moving in together, in Dublin.

  And then (you guessed it) he took it all back. He changed his mind so often that I sometimes felt sick when I went to see him, because I never could tell which Vince I was about to face.

  Oh, I knew he was behaving like a typical head-worker, and that his conduct was bordering on cruel, but I stuck with him nevertheless. Vince had never messed me around before his kidnapping. It wasn’t in his nature to blow hot and cold, so I didn’t think he was behaving this way on purpose.

  Trauma had made him a little wiggy and unsure, but he would get better. We were made for each other – I was certain of it – and so, I decided to see this as a mere blip. Something we would get through, or get over, something we would laugh about when we were old and grey, watching our grandkids play on the beach.

  And lately, almost eleven months after he left, there were some promising signs. Vince was calling me a couple of times a day. We would talk for hours and hours about his issues, and make plans for how he could get back to normal. He invited me over to his Dublin flat much more o
ften, too. Last Thursday, he told me he missed his morning swim at Dead Man’s Cove. The week before that he waxed lyrical about my aunt’s Victoria sponge. He even said it might be nice to have a drink in the local pub.

  And this evening I’d heard some particularly good news, news that could give him that final push he needed in order to come home.

  I dithered in his hallway for a good five minutes before I knocked on his door, rehearsing how I would break it to him. I’m not sure why I was dithering, because there probably wasn’t a bad way to say it – the last of the evil Trent brothers had finally been sentenced to life in Witchfield Prison, and in Witchfield, life meant life.

  The final court case dealt with Grady Trent, the Time Witch who had been on the loose far longer than any of the others. It had taken all of these months because the Wyrd Court wanted to try each brother individually. Plus, the hearings had to take place in secret, in specially constructed rooms. It was expensive and time consuming, but when dealing with such powerful criminals, it was best not to cut corners.

  After a few more seconds of dithering, I fought back my nerves, and with a shaking hand I knocked on his door.

  Once I was in his flat, though, I lost my courage and began to worry once more. What if this wasn’t enough to bring him home? What if he had another reason for staying away?

  I knocked back two glasses of wine before I finally broke the news. We were standing at the small island in his kitchen, and Vince was asking me if I’d like to order Chinese or Indian, when I blurted it all out.

  He looked away from me for a moment, then met my eyes and said, ‘I know. I heard about it this afternoon, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Belinda, I think … I think I might be ready for my old job again. For moving back. Maybe even … getting things back on track, you know.’ He reached out and touched the ring I wore. ‘We’re still engaged, aren’t we?’

  I grew a little dizzy and weak-kneed. Part of me almost couldn’t believe it – finally, he was saying what I wanted to hear. The rest of me was sagging with relief, and I clung to him to keep myself upright, murmuring into his neck, ‘Of course we’re still engaged. I never took off my ring because I knew you’d come home to me.’

  He chuckled. ‘Well, that’s why I love you so much, Bell. You have the kind of faith that’s big enough for both of us.’ He pulled back a little so he could look me in the eye. ‘I just have to sort a few things in work first thing tomorrow morning, so I’ll come over later in the day, all right? And hey, just in case I haven’t said it enough lately – I love you, Belinda.’

  My voice broke with emotion as I said, ‘I love you, too.’

  When I got back home the next morning, my cat was waiting on the doorstep.

  ‘You shouldn’t have stayed out all night,’ he said.

  ‘I know, Egg. Sorry.’

  ‘There’s frost on the ground again – you know that’s not a good sign. It’s because you’re away so much. You need to deal with it.’

  ‘I’ll deal with it, Egg, no need to get crabby about it.’

  A lot of people figured I called him Egg because he was eggshell coloured, but he was a much darker shade when he first came to me as a kitten. I called him Egg simply because eggs were my favourite food. Soft-boiled, scrambled, poached or fried, I didn’t care how they were served, as long as I got to eat lots of them. Like eggs, my cat was one of my favourite things. He was the perfect familiar – sweet, straightforward, and always there when I needed him. Or at least, he used to be that way. Lately, he hadn’t been by my side as much as I would have liked.

  ‘And you know,’ I added, ‘it’s not because I’m away so much. This early frost is just a weird side effect of the Master Siphon – the magic was gone from the land so long, Egg. It might be back now, but things around here are just a little … confused.’ I shuddered as I thought of the Master Siphon. It was the reason Vince had been kidnapped. The Trent brothers wanted it so that they could steal as much magic as they wanted. Taking Vince’s place had been one of their many schemes to try and track it down. Thankfully, it was safely hidden away now, and could no longer do any damage.

  ‘If you say so,’ said Egg. ‘I suppose you had to deal with Mister Moody’s latest emotional crisis, did you?’

  I’m not positive that cats have eyebrows (even if they do, you wouldn’t be able to tell Egg’s apart from the rest of him, as he’s the same colour all over) but whether or not he had them, he certainly knew how to use them to their grumpiest effect.

  Looking away from his admonishing stare, I sat down on one of the patio chairs, flinching a little at how cold it was. It was the beginning of August, and though some places could get chilly even at this time of year, Granvar Bay wasn’t one of them. Our weather was unusually good for Ireland – so good, in fact, that we ran a successful vineyard. Most members of the coven were involved in food production in one form or another. The nine hundred acres that we called home produced some of the tastiest fare in Ireland. Aunt Ava often remarked, ‘We might be small, but we sure are mighty.’

  ‘You used to love Vince,’ I said to Egg. ‘But now you never want to be around him. None of this is his fault, you know. The Trent brothers practically tortured him. The kind of spell they used to impersonate him, it pulls a lot from a person. Weakens them physically and mentally. People can die if that sort of spell goes on too long. So can you really blame him for being traumatised?’

  ‘I can’t blame him for what happened to him. I can blame him for how he’s dealt with it. He has you rushing around after him, worrying about him, never knowing what he’s going to want from one second to the next. Because of his antics, you’re spending all of your time in Dublin when you need to be here.’

  ‘Well, that won’t be a problem anymore,’ I retorted. ‘He’s coming home. Today.’

  Once more, Egg gave me the eyebrows. ‘I’ll believe it when I see it. He’s said the same about a dozen times before, hasn’t he? He shouldn’t be messing you around like this, Belly. He knows you’re important to the Nine Hundred – to the whole of Granvar Bay. You’re connected to this land. It needs you as much as you need it.’

  ‘This time is different. Grady Trent was sentenced. Vince feels safer now, like the whole ordeal has some closure. And you know perfectly well that I won’t actually be fully connected to this land until Ava passes away – which will be decades and decades from now, if we’re lucky. Witches live long lives.’

  ‘It doesn’t work like that, Belly. You’re her heir – and you’re a weather witch. You’re the one this land wants, and it needs to know you’re going to take on your role when Ava leaves this world. So all I can say is that I hope that Vince means what he says. Because if he doesn’t, you have a decision to make.’

  I gritted my teeth and stood up. ‘I’m going to get rid of the frost. You don’t need to come with me.’

  As I stormed off I heard his paw-steps behind me, filling me with a rush of relief. No matter what I might have said, I wanted him to follow. I always wanted Egg by my side.

  Familiars weren’t wonderful just because they were furry, purry and cute. Having Egg around always made my magic better – he calmed me, helped me focus, and every now and then, in a way he would neither admit to nor explain, I was certain that he was lending me a burst of power.

  As we moved through the vines I stopped every few steps, touching the ground, whispering, ‘It’s not the time for frost, so leave until you’re called, the warmth must stay for some time more, this frost I order stalled.’

  It took longer than it ought to for the icy particles to vanish, and the heat to spread once more through the soil. Being a weather witch wasn’t simple – there was a balance to be maintained, if you wanted to manipulate something so integral to the world. I couldn’t simply decide I’d like it to be sunny all year round, or that I’d quite fancy a flurry of snow in December. Actions had consequences.

  But here, in Granvar Bay, the land’s magic gave us a little leeway. The O’Mara coven had been here for centuries, and as long as one of us remained the anchor, the magic would stick around. The balance depended on us, but more specifically on Ava – and when I inherited her role, it would depend on me. Simply being here, living here our whole lives, that was the bargain we made in return for our near-perfect seasons.