Chapter Fifteen

  “Ronda’s mother is some kind of shapeshifter,” I said to Astrid as we walked back into the house, Libby and Darla right behind us.

  As soon as we walked through the door, I eyed Gemma’s stained wedding dress which was still lying atop the chair where she’d left it.

  “She returned the dress?” Astrid asked.

  I nodded. “I guess so.”

  “What’s all over it?” Darla asked.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe vomit.”

  “I bet I could get that stain right out,” Libby said with conviction.

  Meanwhile, Astrid looked up at me. “What are you going to do with it?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I can get it cleaned and use it as a display in the store.”

  I stretched out my hands to pick it up… and stopped. My hands hovered over the sheets of taffeta but I couldn’t bring myself to touch it. I didn’t want to because an awful dark energy poured from the material, surrounding it in a dark cloud.

  “What’s wrong?” Astrid asked, eyeing me with concern as my mouth dropped open and I turned to face her with wide eyes.

  I looked back at the dress in horror. “Gemma was right! It is cursed!”

  “Cursed?”

  I couldn’t stop staring at the dress as I shook my head, trying to understand how this had happened. “This isn’t my magic, Astrid. My enchantments are still there, yes, but… there’s something else… I can feel a sickness hex that accounts for why everyone started feeling rotten, but there’s… something else.”

  “Something else like what?” Astrid asked.

  “You think I can get a sickness hex out of a dress?” I heard Libby ask Darla in the background.

  “Like something a whole lot stronger than anything I did to it,” I answered Astrid.

  Astrid looked down at the dress, then up at me. “What type of curse is it? From a potion?”

  “It might be.” I flexed my fingers, feeling the hateful vibes coming off the dress. Whoever had done this had strong and powerful magic. Dark magic. “Whatever the curse is, it created a powerful repulsive hex that affected everyone at the wedding. No wonder everyone felt sick… and that explains why Lorcan wasn’t affected.”

  “Because he’s a vampire?”

  I nodded. “But, there’s also something else… something that feels like anger…”

  “Like Liquid Fire?” Astrid asked as she held her hands over the dress.

  I looked over at her in surprise that she’d named the potion because the more I hovered my hands over the intense energy, the more I realized it was exactly like Liquid Fire. “I think you just hit the nail right on the head.” And that would have explained Gemma’s horrible mood the day of her wedding. Even though she was usually awful to deal with, the day of her wedding she’d been extra awful. And now I knew why—she’d been hexed into the terrible mood, forced into it. And whoever had woven the Liquid Fire into the dress had been an artful magic user because the hex had completely overridden my Happy Heart Oil which had been meant to calm Gemma’s nerves.

  “I think there’s more,” Astrid continued as she cocked her head to one side and then closed her eyes as she kept moving her hands an inch or so above the dress. When she opened her eyes again, she looked at me. “I think it’s a potion or potions that did the cursing.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  She shrugged. “I’m picking up Black Arts Oil. What do you think?”

  I waved my hands over the dress again and, sure enough, I felt the essence of Black Arts, which was a special crossing oil, used to place hexes on people. I nodded. “I feel it, too. Good job, Astrid.”

  She beamed underneath the praise and I silently reminded myself to give her more compliments—she certainly deserved them as she was proving to be quite good in the potions department. Poppy was right.

  “I’m receiving one more,” I said as I faced her. “Do you think you can pick it out?”

  She took a breath and held her hands up once more. “I can try.” Then she was quiet as she moved her hands over the material, being careful not to touch it. Touching it would be a major jolt to the system and an uncomfortable one, at that.

  “I think…” she started as she closed her eyes and her nose twitched like Samantha from Bewitched. “I’m getting… Love-Breaker Oil?” she asked as she opened her eyes.

  “Yep, that’s what I got too,” I said with a big grin. I was proud of her.

  “What’s Love Breaker Oil do?” Darla sang out.

  “Astrid?” I asked, figuring I’d let her continue to take the stage.

  She faced Darla. “It’s a potion meant to spoil a relationship or a marriage. It’s mean to cause a split between partners.”

  “Just like what happened between Gemma and Winston,” I added.

  “Do you suppose those potions would come out in the wash?” Libby asked but everyone ignored her.

  Astrid still appeared flummoxed as she faced me. “But, who would do such a thing? Who could do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Ronda’s mother?” Astrid asked.

  I shook my head. “As a shapeshifter, the only magic she’d be able to perform is changing shapes. She wouldn’t have access to witch magic.”

  “And you’re sure she wasn’t a witch?” Astrid asked, shaking her head. “Because witches can shapeshift too.”

  “I know, but, she wasn’t a witch... I’m fairly sure.”

  Astrid nodded and then shook her head again. “I wasn’t able to pick out any magical signatures either,” she said. “Did you get a feel for whose magic could have done this?”

  I shook my head. “There’s no magical signature at all which means we must not know the witch who cursed it.”

  “Hmm,” Astrid answered, because it was rare not to pick up any sort of magical imprint from the caster. “We should have at least been able to pick up her lineage.”

  “I didn’t get that either. Did you?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  And that meant one of two things—either we’d never come across such a witch before or her magic was powerful enough that she was able to hide her magical signature. And such power meant she could be bordering on wizard abilities which wasn’t something to take lightly because wizards were in a word, scary. That and they were very rare. Wizards were essentially witches who had turned to dark magic for exceptional power and in doing so, it was just a matter of time before their souls turned just as dark as the magic they practiced.

  Astrid was quiet for a second before she faced me and there was concern in her expression. “Poppy is the only potions master we know in Haven Hollow or the area, and she would have been able to create all the potions we found on the dress. And because she’s a gypsy, she wouldn’t have a magical imprint.”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t Poppy.”

  “I didn’t think it could be,” Astrid continued, immediately letting it be known she didn’t want to put the blame on Poppy. “I know she wouldn’t have done that. She’s your friend.”

  “It wasn’t Poppy,” I repeated. I looked down at the dress again. “Poppy would have no reason to curse Gemma… Whoever did this must really hate Gemma. That’s certain.” An image of Ronda’s mother assaulted my mind but I pushed it away because Ronda’s mother didn’t possess the power to do something like this, shapeshifter or not.

  Astrid looked over her shoulder again. “That doesn’t exactly narrow down the list of suspects, does it?”

  I straightened. “Whoever it was, they had to possess powerful magic.”

  “Well, that does narrow the list. There’s just you and me in Haven Hollow.”

  “I don’t think it was someone from Haven Hollow. Gemma lives in Medford and Medford has a full coven of witches. The question is—who had a motive to spoil the…” I stopped. Then I slapped my forehead. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

  “Think of what?”

  “Ronda’s mom might not have had the power to curse Gemma, herself, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t hire someone who could. And she definitely had a motive to stop Gemma from marrying Winston—because of the fact that Ronda loved Winston still. And because Ronda’s mother is a shapeshifter, I’m sure she knows witches… witches who could have done this for her.” I took a breath. “Now, I’ve just got to figure out if Ronda’s mother did know any witches who would have done this for her.”

  “And how are you going to find that out?” Astrid asked.

  I looked at her and smiled. “You can help me.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We’ll do a reverse tracking spell on the dress to lead us to the person who planted the curse in the first place.”

  I got an empty garment bag from the hall closet, stopping in the kitchen to grab a pair of dish-washing gloves so the tainted fabric wouldn’t touch my skin. “I’m going to find Poppy. Don’t touch this until I get back, okay?”

  Astrid pointed at the lump on the couch. “What should I do about that?”

  I laughed. “Just leave him there. He’ll sleep the rest of the day.”

  “What is that?” Libby asked.

  “It’s Lorcan,” I answered.

  “Why is he sitting there with a blanket over him?” Darla asked.

  “Because he’s a vampire and that’s a game they like to play,” I answered as Astrid laughed.

  “It is?” Libby asked, frowning.

  “Yeah, it’s called put the blanket over the vampire,” Astrid answered as she gave me a wink.

  “Hmm, sounds like a pretty dull game if you ask me,” Darla responded.

  ***

  First things first, I let my fingers do some walking.

  Spells, enchantments, and scrying were all very well, but sometimes you had to knuckle down and do some good old-fashioned research.

  I got on my phone and did a Google search on the ‘Medford Craft Guild and Ladies Society’. Although the title sounded like a bunch of old biddies obsessed with knitting, it was actually the cover name of the Medford Coven. Every coven used a cover organization in order to make it look legitimate and to keep nosy people from investigating.

  The reason I was looking into the Medford Coven was owing to the fact that I wasn’t sure if maybe Ronda’s mother was a hybrid witch—as in, she could have been part shapeshifter, part witch. It wasn’t unheard of. Poppy had told me about a witch she’d met in sasquatch territory that was half sasquatch, half witch. And if Ronda’s mother was a hybrid, that could have explained why I didn’t get a witchy sort of feel from her—the lack of witchiness could have simply been owing to the fact that she had more shapeshifter than witch in her genes.

  Also, there had been that little tidbit Hellcat had mentioned about the Medford coven looking into my store and me. Maybe it had been Ronda’s mother who had been doing the looking.

  I checked the website and found a list of members and didn’t recognize any of them as Ronda’s mother. Then I scanned the names, but none of them rang a bell. Of course, I didn’t even know Ronda’s last name. Furthermore, her mother might have a completely different last name. Ergh…

  One attempt down and…

  Receiving a rare moment of ingenuity, I decided to do a search for Gemma and Winston’s wedding and arrived at their wedding website. Luckily, Gemma hadn’t taken it down yet. Sure enough, Ronda’s name was listed near the top of the page under ‘Maid of Honor’. The website listed her last name as ‘Montgomery’. I then clicked through the website until I found a guest list, and scrolled down the page until I reached an entry for ‘Gail Montgomery’.

  “Got you, you devious, plotting woman,” I said with a smile.

  I cross-referenced the name back to the Medford Craft Guild and Ladies Society website. And that was where my trail went cold. There was no Gail Montgomery. No Gail anyone. And that meant Gail wasn’t a witch, hybrid or otherwise, just like I’d assumed. Hmm, what to do next? Shapeshifters were solitary creatures that didn’t assemble in covens or exist in packs so it would be fairly impossible to find out anything about Gail’s true identity on the web.

  With no more leads, I had no choice but to give up for now. Feeling frustrated over the whole topic, I decided to stick to my original plan which was to find Poppy in order to do the reverse tracking spell on Gemma’s dress. But, first, I was going to pay a visit to my store, just to make sure no one had broken in while I was at the wedding.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I unlocked the door and walked into my store, dropping my handbag next to the register. I was almost surprised to find no new scratch marks in the floor this time. Heading for the security system on my worktable, an only-too-familiar voice drawled from my office.

  “You may wish to peruse the delightful dictums of your satisfied clientele as reported by Yelp.”

  Grabbing my heart because he’d given me quite the fright, I spun around to see Hellcat perched on my desk. He sniffed at the computer screen while the tip of his velvet-black tail twitched behind him. These little surprise visits of his were getting old and then some.

  “How did you even get in here?” I demanded.

  He paused from licking his paws. “I was involved in quite pleasurable dreams in the rear of the undead’s vehicle,” he started.

  “The Escalade is now mine, so you can refer to it as such.”

  He scowled at me. “As I was saying, I was lost to the world of dreams in the rear of the corpse’s vehicle when you interrupted my solitude by turning on the engine and depositing me here. Upon arriving, you were quite busy with that centaur fellow so I decided I ought to enter the building to see what foul errands have involved you of late.”

  “Well, I wish you’d stop hanging out in the Escalade,” I answered, irritated I hadn’t seen him in the SUV and even more irritated I’d been stuck talking to Stanley for the last half-hour.

  “I do not ‘hang out’ anywhere.” He twitched his nose at me. “And, as I said before, it would behoove you to peruse your online reviews.”

  “I don’t have time for that,” I snapped at him. “I have a much more serious situation on my hands.”

  “I hate to be the herald of ill tidings, posturing charlatan of witchery, but you really must witness what your clients are saying about you. I am quite certain that, once you do, you will realize there is no more serious situation with which you should grapple.”

  “Ugh.” I stormed into the office and plunked down in the desk chair. “What’s so important?”

  “Observe.” He pointed his paw at the screen.

  I studied a page of store reviews left on Yelp and as I did, my stomach plummeted into my shoes. My five-star reviews had all but disappeared! And in their place was a scattering of three-star reviews. Worst of all, the one and two star reviews had skyrocketed and were now the majority!

  “How could this happen?” I gasped. “I checked the reviews just last week and everything was fine. This has to be a mistake…”

  “Perhaps you should read the content of the messages.” Hellcat’s voice sounded much softer than usual. He couldn’t actually care that the store wasn’t doing well. Could he?

  I swallowed hard and read the first review out loud, a one-star:

  “I bought a wallet from Wanda’s Witchery. It was supposed to have a good-fortune charm to attract money. That same day, I lost my job, got a $3,000 tax fine from the IRS, and lost $10,000 in a bank scam that left me in debt up to my eyeballs. Do NOT buy anything from Wanda’s Witchery. You’ll regret it if you do.”

  That was bad enough, but the others were even worse.

  “I went to Wanda’s Witchery to get a cure for my crippling social anxiety. I bought a black leather jacket which was supposed to make me feel confident and at ease in any social situation. I wore the jacket to a coffee shop to meet a friend and had the worst panic attack of my life. I wasn’t even in a challenging social situation! I was sitting at a table having coffee with a good friend of mine, whom I’ve known forever. The attack was so bad, I ended up at the hospital for a psychological evaluation. Stay away from Wanda’s Witchery. If she’s really a witch, she’s an evil one.”

  “Ouch,” Hellcat said.

  The next review read: “I bought a pair of panties and a teddy from Wanda at Wanda’s Witchery. I wanted to surprise my husband with a spicy evening. Both items supposedly had a lust enchantment that would entice any man who came near me. That night, I went home and put them on. When my husband came into our bedroom, he took one look at me and promptly left the room! He said he couldn’t stand the sight of me and the last thing he wanted to do was anything naughty. I was so embarrassed and took the lingerie off immediately! Wanda is an imposter and I will never purchase anything from her store again.”

  I tried to tear my eyes away from the screen, but I couldn’t stop reading one awful review after another. “How could this happen?” I finally croaked.

  “That isn’t all.” Hellcat tapped the mouse with his paw. He shut the web browser and switched over to my email inbox. There were forty-seven new emails. “One email is a notice from a lawyer regarding one of your clients’ ruined wedding, the rest are irate customers demanding their money back.”

  My throat went dry and I couldn’t draw a breath. Panic was starting to set in and I had to close my eyes and will myself to calm down. Hyperventilating at a time like this wasn’t going to help anything. “This is… this is impossible! How could so many enchantments go wrong so quickly?” I asked Hellcat, but I was really more asking myself. “I’ve been using the same spells and potions for months with no problems. This just… doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Clearly you must be doing something wrong,” Hellcat remarked as he motioned to the reviews which still glared at me from the computer screen.

  “That’s just the thing. All these reviews…” I struggled to think straight. “According to these customers, my enchantments didn’t just fail to produce the desired result, but they actually backfired and did exactly the opposite of what they were supposed to do. It’s almost as though…”