All Tricked Out

  Wayfair Witches Book Thirteen

  by 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.

  Copyright © A.A. Albright 2021

  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.

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  Website: https://aaalbright.com

  Table of Contents

  1. Bliss Versus Buzz

  2. Flopsy

  3. The Street With No Name

  4. The Magic Hat

  5. The Definition of Madness

  6. Mrs Fay

  7. The Tortuous Life of a Tall Tale Princess

  8. Those Summer Days

  9. The Downs

  10. Hoarding Hattie

  11. Hot Diggity Dog

  12. My Astral Travels

  13. Goodbye, and Guffaw

  14. Let’s Not Talk About Our Personal Lives

  15. Franning the Flames

  16. Clive’s Curios

  17. A Magician Never Reveals His Secrets

  18. Before the Moon

  19. Totally Bananas

  20. Into the Woods

  21. To Feel Nothing Without You

  22. My Monday Jeans on a Wednesday

  23. Fifi Fantastic

  24. Through the Looking Glass

  25. Run, Rabbit, Run

  26. Victoria Byrd Should Thank Us

  27. We’re Good at What We Do

  28. Tizzy

  1. Bliss Versus Buzz

  Have you ever convinced yourself that you were blissfully happy, only to discover that something important was missing from your life?

  That’s how I felt, the day I met the white rabbit.

  There I was, strolling through Luna Park with my gorgeous boyfriend, Max, my bat familiar, Dizzy, and Wolfie, an enormous Irish Wolfhound who liked talking about sticks and balls almost as much as he liked chasing sticks and balls.

  It was a lovely day, really it was. It was a little chilly, sure, but that’s February for you. And it might have crossed my mind that I’d strolled along this same route every single day for weeks on end. But, to quote my newly coined phrase, familiarity breeds contentment (if I kept repeating it over and over again, it was sure to catch on).

  I was feeling blissfully happy, and relaxed, during my totally voluntary sabbatical from my Wayfaring duties. Okay, I’ll come clean – it wasn’t one hundred percent voluntary. I’d been told to take a break by the captain of the Wayfarers, because not only did he seem to think I was spreading myself too thin, but he also believed that I could be in danger of burning the candle at both ends. Mostly, though, he was concerned about the fact that there was rather a lot of supernatural drama in my life. He advised me to take some time out, concentrate on completing my college courses, and ignore every ounce of danger or intrigue which tried to come my way.

  That last part was especially easy, because really, who cared if my ex-boyfriend’s dead father might not be dead at all, and could instead be plotting revenge against little old me?

  For anyone who hasn’t been around for my previous adventures, you might be a little confused by now, so here’s the scoop: I’m Wanda Wayfair, and I’m a Wayfarer. I’m also the Wayfarer. While the rest of my crime-fighting buddies do their best to keep supernatural Ireland safe, I have one or two qualities that mark me out.

  I won’t go into too many details – no one wants to hear me bang on about my powers, or the fact that I seem to rack up enemies like they’re going out of style. There are a lot of new witches on the scene with superpowers these days, and with various back stories and nemeses. At some stage, it’s bound to get boring.

  But one of my powers is – if not interesting – then certainly adorable. See, when a witch is murdered, her familiar seeks me out, and together we sleuth our little hearts out until we’ve found the culprit.

  Every now and then, though, a cute little critter arrives who hasn’t quite got the memo on what it is that I do. Critters like the fluffy white bunny that approached me today.

  Ah yes, that brings us back nicely to where we began, doesn’t it?

  So, there I was, strolling through Luna Park, with my gorgeous boyfriend, my bat familiar, and a very enthusiastic wolfhound called Wolfie. It was much like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. But as I said above, familiarity breeds contentment. Familiarity breeds contentment. Familiarity breeds contentment. Familiarity breeds … well, look, there’s nothing wrong with having a routine, all right?

  Today’s walk, while not particularly different from yesterday’s walk, was still … okay. And every now and then, it was even better than okay. There were a few especially delightful moments when Max and I paused for some nice long kisses.

  Dizzy and Wolfie were having a great time, that much was certain. Dizzy was flying off with sticks, and Wolfie was chasing the bat and the stick, and honestly, they were a joy to watch.

  But when Dizzy scooped my hat up along with one of those sticks, and Wolfie brought my hat back with a white rabbit inside, well … there was no amount of bliss in the world that could compare to the buzz I felt.

  I couldn’t help it: no matter how hard I tried to say goodbye to my old life, I was a glutton for intrigue. And my interest was roused even more by the fact that this rabbit didn’t seem to know who I was.

  He’d never heard of me, he’d never heard of the Wayfarer, and he certainly wasn’t coming to me because his witch had been murdered. This little guy didn’t even have a witch.

  So what was he? Not a familiar, that much was clear. So then how come he could talk? And why was he so surprised that I could understand him?

  He was nothing like the usual critters that came my way, it was true. But he was certainly sparking my curiosity.

  He looked at me, his big pink eyes filled with worry, and said, ‘My magician’s gone missing. Could you … could you help me find him?’

  How could I resist? My break from crime fighting had been nice, while it lasted. But it was time to get back to work.

  2. Flopsy

  ‘Yes,’ I told the rabbit. ‘I’ll help you. But first, I just need to clarify a few things. You really don’t know how you got here? Or where here is? Or who I am?’

  The white rabbit shook his head. ‘Nope. No idea. I don’t mean to offend you. Are you a model or a singer or something? An actress, maybe? Is the Wayfarer the name of a character you play?’

  Dizzy snorted. ‘He thinks you’re famous? And that you could be an actress or a model? Hah!’ Dizzy was sarcastic, sure, but he was also right. Not only was I a touch too curvy to be a model, but I was also far too short. And as for becoming an actress, well … I liked watching TV.

  ‘Hey.’ Max reached out and stroked Dizzy. ‘Wanda is famous.’

  ‘Infamous, maybe,’ the bat retorted.

  The rabbit gasped. ‘You’re not a criminal, are you?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m not a criminal. I’m the opposite, actually. I’m a Wayfarer. We’re like … the supernatural police.’

  ‘You throw supernaturals in jail?’

  ‘No. Well … yeah, if they’re bad. But we’re supernatural, too, so it’s just like a human cop arresting a human criminal. I’m on a temporary – and completely voluntary – leave of absence right now. But I’ve been told I can come back to work in the spring, and I think February counts as spring. Right?’ I looked at the icy path a few feet away. ‘Well … anyway. I’m totally going to help you, but you don’t need to know my whole long backstory, do you?’

  ‘I’d like to know your backstory. I’m fascinated. Are you sure your leave of absence is voluntary, because I get the feeling it might not be. And also, why does this park feel so … sparkly?’

  I giggled. ‘Sparkly. I like it. Well, I’ll fill you in on everything you need to know about me soon enough. But for now, just tell me how I can help you find this magician of yours.’ Not that I was eager to change the subject and solve the mystery or anything. ‘When did he go missing, and where from? Oh, and what’s your name?’

  The rabbit scampered about nervously for a moment, then said, ‘I’m Flopsy. And my magician went missing days ago now, from the Magic Hat.’

  ‘He had a magic hat?’ Wolfie looked up from the stick he was chewing. ‘Did he get lost in his, too?’

  ‘No. And I didn’t get lost in mine. I told you before, I was just hanging out in there, thinking about ways to find Gavin – he’s my magician. I think it was … yeah, it was last Saturday that he went missing. I’ve been with Laurence ever since – he’s Gavin’s boss. He fed me, and let me hang out in my hat. But he couldn’t hear me when I told him any of my theories, and it was frustrating, so I was hoping and wishing anyone could help. And somehow … I wound up in this park instead.’

  ‘So he didn’t get lost in a hat?’ Dizzy tapped his chin with one of his bat fingers (one of these days, I was going to study bat biology, but for now, you’ll just have to work with me). ‘Interesting. I thought all magicians had hats.’

  ‘Well … yes,’ said Flopsy. ‘I suppose he has hats, if you … if you … count the ones he did tricks with.’ His voice was growing squeaky and breathless, his words coming out in stops and sta
rts. ‘The Magic … Hat is the name of the … of the club he worked at. Could you … I’m not used to having to carry on a conversation for this long. No one usually … no one understands me when I talk. Can I just take you there, and you can talk to his friends, and they’ll explain?’

  I picked him up and held him close. ‘Sure. You just tell me where it is, and me and Max will get us there lickety-split.’

  Beside me, Max winced. ‘Em … I can’t go with you, I’m afraid.’ He tapped his watch. ‘I’ve got to go and set the rescue centre up for all those journalists who are coming tonight, remember?’

  My insides churned with guilt. Here I was, only a few minutes into a mystery, and I was already forgetting my priorities. ‘Oh, yeah. Well I’ll just … I’ll call Finn and sort out this little guy, and–’

  Max placed a kiss on my forehead and said, ‘No. You should go. This is important, Wanda. Flopsy might not be your typical case, but he needs you. You’ll still come to the party tonight, though, right?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ I smiled up at him. ‘I’ll set a reminder on my phone. I want to be with you tonight, Max. I won’t let you down.’

  3. The Street With No Name

  For a few seconds, I watched Max and Wolfie walk back across the park, as they headed to the Westerly Crescent exit. I’d spent so much of my time with them lately, and I missed them already. But the conflicting buzz of excitement soon rose up again, overriding all else.

  ‘So where to?’ I asked Flopsy. ‘What’s the address for the Magic Hat?’

  ‘It’s in Dublin City, on the street with no name.’

  Dizzy tittered. ‘Not helpful, Flopsy. It has to have a name.’

  ‘Oh, you must have heard of it,’ the rabbit went on. ‘The street. With no name.’

  When we carried on looking confused, Flopsy scratched his nose with a paw and said, ‘Seriously? You’ve really never been? Even though all the best magic clubs and restaurants are there? Okay, well … you go along South Great George’s Street, and then you …’ He reeled off directions, sounding perfectly sure of himself. But I wasn’t sure. I knew the area well, and I knew of no club called the Magic Hat, and no street with no name, either.

  ‘And it’s … it’s not an enclave?’ I asked.

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A hidden area. A part of the city that’s hidden by witches, where supernatural people live and work.’

  The rabbit looked at me like I’d gone all the way round the bend and circled back again. ‘You are an actress, aren’t you? Or maybe a writer? That’s why you’re so strange, right? Look, I’m not talking about fiction, or any supernatural whatchamacallit. I’m talking about the real world. A real street. And a real missing magician. Are you sure you’re up to the job?’

  Dizzy hopped onto my shoulder and said, ‘Wanda’s up to any job, Flopsy.’

  I gave my bat a little kiss. ‘I hope so,’ I murmured, before clicking my fingers and taking myself into the city.

  ≈

  ‘Wow!’ Flopsy, sitting in my arms, gazed up at me. ‘I don’t know what just happened, but it felt sparkly, like the park. You’re a real witch, aren’t you? Not just a weird fantasist who’s helping me because you’ve nothing better to do.’

  I put a finger to my lips. ‘Shush. It’s a secret.’

  Flopsy squealed with excitement. ‘Whoopee! Gavin knew there were witches and wizards. He wrote all about them in his books. I was a little more sceptical, but always inwardly hopeful. That’s why your park felt sparkly, isn’t it? Because it’s an actual magical park? And everything you said about being a Wayfarer thingy, that was true, too! I thought you were just making it up, but I was so desperate that I would have taken anyone’s help, even a crazy person’s. Oh, this is going to be good. You’re definitely going to help me find Gavin.’

  ‘Well, hopefully,’ I cautioned. ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Yes, but your best is a lot better than anyone else’s best, isn’t it? Seeing as you’re a witch.’ His eyes widened with guilt, and he whispered, ‘Sorry. I won’t call you the W word again.’

  ‘That’s okay.’ I stroked his soft fur, feeling his shivers of excitement. ‘So where to now?’

  ‘There.’ Flopsy’s nose twitched. ‘Just after that bar.’

  I looked at the bar he was twitching towards, and at the narrow opening just after it. It looked like the entrance to an alleyway, and yet I was sure there’d never been an alley there before. It had been a newsagent, hadn’t it? But actually … the newsagent was still there, only now, it had an alley-sized gap between it and the pub.

  For a moment, I wondered if this mysterious street was an enclave, after all. Maybe Flopsy got things wrong, and his magician was a wizard? Maybe even a witch?

  But I soon saw a group of three people coming out of the small street, and they were definitely human. I didn’t have the eyes of a faery – I couldn’t literally see the colours of a person’s magic with my naked eye – but I’d always had a sense of what kind of supernatural someone was, or if they had power. These people weren’t wearing any privilege jewellery, either, so it wasn’t as though they were some of those rare humans who’d been granted access to the magical world.

  I looked to the walls either side of the narrow street. There were none of the usual signs, indicating the street name. What was this place?

  ‘Flopsy,’ said Dizzy, with an added touch of nervousness to his already high-pitched voice. ‘You’re not leading us into danger, are you?’

  The rabbit stared at us both. ‘No! Of course not. Although … well, I suppose I could be, unintentionally. No one knows what happened to Gavin. He could have been … and we could be … and I …’ His shivers increased. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I am, amn’t I? I am leading you into danger.’

  ‘Calm down, Flopsy,’ I said, stroking him again. ‘Don’t worry about it, okay? I can look after myself, and I can look after you, too.’

  I arranged my hair so that it covered my shoulder, and the bat who sat there. ‘And I’ll look after you, too, Dizz,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll just send Finn a quick text, before we head onto the street, so he can’t tell me off for going on a mystery-solving spree without him.’

  It was awkward to type with a rabbit in my arms, but I somehow punched in some letters that made (a vague sort of) sense, and sent a message to my Wayfarer captain. With that done, I turned the corner, and entered the street with no name.

  It was rather more than your average alleyway. A small car might have fit down it, later at night, if the many cafés and bars took their outdoor tables inside. It was far longer than I expected – I couldn’t even see where it ended – and it bustled with people, coming in and out of antique shops, boutiques, bars and bakeries. There were flower shops, too, their blooms mingling with the smell from the bakeries, creating a heady concoction of sweet-scented air.

  ‘I think I’m kind of in love with this street,’ I said. I was, too. It felt safe, and warm, like a street-sized hug.

  The rabbit shivered. ‘I love it here, too. But I’ll love it a whole lot better once I’ve got Gavin back. There it is.’ His nose twitched. ‘Number thirteen. The Magic Hat.’

  Dizzy laughed. ‘Why bother giving the buildings numbers when the street doesn’t even have a name?’

  ‘I don’t know, really,’ Flopsy replied. ‘But we get letters and bills posted to our flat, and at the club, so no one seems to have a problem finding us.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘Okay, then,’ I said. ‘We’re going in.’

  With Flopsy in my arms, and Dizzy on my shoulder, I walked down the steps and into the basement club. The rounded ceiling and walls were made of stone, and there were lots of little alcoves. The main floor was wide, laid out with round tables, all looking up at a small, curtained stage.

  The place seemed empty at first, although I could hear voices arguing somewhere – two women and a man. Maybe there was a kitchen, or a backstage area? One of the women’s voices, the more strident of the two, seemed familiar.

  Before I could figure out where I knew her from, I heard a door swinging, and a tall, grey-haired man stormed out of a small corridor and into the main area of the club, his head in his hands. His face was lined, but in a handsome, healthy way, and he looked worried and irritated in equal measures.