Don’t Stop Bewitching_A Happily Everlasting Series World Novel Page 7

  “Guys,” he said, a sinking feeling coming over him. “Anyone know a lot about magic?”

  “Leo does,” said Petey.

  Curt groaned. “Anyone who is not also a hunter?”

  “What ya got there?” asked Petey, snatching the coin from Curt’s hand. “Oh, shiny.”

  Curt watched the older man, painfully aware Petey had not washed his hands after his lizard draining. Thankfully, Curt had packed hand sanitizer in one of his bags.

  Wilber whistled and put his hand out from the other side of the van.

  Petey threw the coin directly to the hunter.

  Wilber caught it and stiffened. “Warrick, where, exactly, did you find this?”

  “Right here,” said Curt, pointing down at the ground. “It’s identical to the one Jake handed me before we left. Jake said I dropped that one and I tried to tell him it wasn’t mine. This one was next to my foot.”

  “Kind of like that one?” asked Petey, motioning to the ground.

  Curt looked down to find another gold coin there. He knew then and there something was up and he wasn’t going to like it one bit.

  Wilber leaned and put his head in through the open driver-side window. “Stop singing!”

  The three men still in the van all looked out at Petey with wide eyes. They did not stop singing.

  “Petey,” said Curt.

  Petey grumbled. “You suck the fun out of everything, Wilber. Fine. Stop singing!”

  They stopped.

  Jake was first out of the van. He charged in Petey’s direction.

  Curt headed him off. “Calm down.”

  “What was that? Why did I start singing? I do not sing.” The centaur was anything but pleased.

  Leo joined them. “Yeah. We noticed. You cannot carry a tune, Majoy. You can’t work magic worth a damn either. What does my sister see in you? And we were singing because Petey commanded it. Looks like we found another side effect of his potion.”

  Sparks that were rainbow-colored shot out of Jake’s hands, indicating he was riled up.

  Everyone backed up except Petey.

  Curt grabbed the man by the suspenders and tugged, pulling him to safety. If Jake was going to burst into a rainbow of fruit flavors, it was best he not get it on everyone else.

  Hugh got out of the van and ran his hands through his hair, aggravation pouring off him in waves. “Think happy thoughts so you don’t end up bear-hugging Messing. Do not think about wringing Petey’s neck. Do not think about wrapping your hands around his skinny little neck and….”

  Wilber came around the side of the van, headed towards Curt just in time for Hugh to grab the man and hug him tight. Neither looked pleased by the events that were unfolding.

  Petey smiled wide. “Get a picture of that, Warrick. Penelope will want to frame it and hang it on the wall.”

  “If you even so much as think about taking a picture, I’ll have your pelt framed and hanging on my wall,” warned Wilber, still in the process of being hugged tightly by the wolf-shifter.

  Curt thought about it a second and decided to take his chances. He snapped a fast picture and was sure to quickly text it to Penelope.

  Wilber grunted.

  Hugh growled.

  Petey clapped.

  Jake nudged Curt. “Want to tell me why you’re standing in the middle of what looks like spilled pirate treasure? Also, why were we singing?”

  “I once knew a pirate,” said Petey. “He had a big room full of gold pieces. Looked a lot like the ones Warrick has.”

  Curt tensed.

  Petey looked him up and down slowly and then his eyes widened. “Warrick, are you really a pirate?”

  “No. I’m not a pirate.”

  Petey walked around him slowly. “You sure? My pirate friend, Blackbeard, his gold coins can find their way to him if he summons them. You summoning them?”

  Curt was about to answer Petey when he realized what the old man had said. “You’re claiming to have known Blackbeard, the famous pirate? Petey, you’re old, I’ll give you that, but I think Blackbeard died long before you were born.”

  “I never said I knew him when he was alive,” added Petey with a wave of his hand as if Curt was the daft one.

  Curt glanced down. There had to be around twenty gold coins at his feet. “Okay, I know those were not there before. What gives? Oo, am I a pirate?”

  Wilber had to pry Hugh off him. When he was finally clear of the lovefest, he came for Curt and bent, lifting a few of the coins. His façade was even and unreadable.

  Leo went to one knee and reached out, but right before the younger hunter would have made contact with a coin, he jerked his hand back and hissed.

  “I’m right in assuming these are spelled?” asked Wilber of the other hunter.

  “Oh yeah,” said Leo, blowing on his fingertips. “Powerful magic.”

  Wilber lifted a coin to his mouth and licked it.

  “Does it taste like chicken?” asked Petey.

  Wilber groaned.

  Curt held a coin in his hand. He blinked and more appeared around his feet.

  Jake scratched the back of his head. “I want answers as to how it is Petey is able to give us orders we have to follow, but first, am I the only one who senses dark power on those coins?”

  Leo stayed bent on one knee as he looked up at his brother-in-law. “It’s not just you. They’re coated in dark magic.”

  The same sinking feeling he’d felt before returned. “Wonderful. I’m a cursed pirate.”

  “You’re not a pirate,” said Wilber sternly.

  “Warrick, who did you tick off this time? Who would want to curse you?” asked Hugh.

  Petey rubbed his wiry jawline. “Probably every woman he’s ever dated. I once was cursed by a woman I dated. She thought I was stepping out on her, but I wasn’t. Dark powers had been at work, tricking lots of folks back then. Plus, her people didn’t want her with me and my people didn’t want me with her. It was a Romeo and Juliet kind of thing. When my girl’s temper flared, out popped the curse. Let me tell you, it’s no fun to carry that black cloud around with you. Truth be told, it’s why I didn’t stay down in Hedgewitch Cove.”

  Curt opened his mouth to argue as much but realized the older man was correct. The odds of the curse coming from a woman he’d upset was high. He wasn’t the type of guy who committed to any one woman. He never made any bones about it. He was upfront with the women he dated, letting them know that if they were looking for a future or long-term, they were meowing up the wrong tree. This cat-shifter wanted to live all nine of his lives free from restrictions.

  The type of women he went for normally seemed fine with his proclamation that he wasn’t in it for something real. They were as shallow as he was, if not more. He preferred it that way. He liked women who drove fast cars, wore tight dresses, and who were always in high heels. There was nothing quite like a hot chick in pumps.

  His body tightened just thinking about it.

  Oh yes, he had a type and that type tended to go into dating him with their eyes wide open. Besides, most of the women he selected had no interest in something real or more. They were living for the moment too. Though there had been a few he suspected said as much but did not truly mean it. And then there were the ones who thought he’d call them for second dates.

  He never did.

  That wasn’t really his style.

  “If we’re counting women I’ve dated the list is going to be too long for me to state or remember. I could narrow it to the ones I’ve managed to get mad at me, but that won’t actually shave many names off the list,” said Curt honestly.

  Jake shook his head. “Let me phrase it this way. Who would want to curse you bad enough to make it happen when you’re how many hours from Everlasting? A spell that can reach you this far from home, while you’re traveling, is a big one. That takes some power right there.”

  Wilber stood and began handing Curt the gold coins.

  “I don’t want them,” said Cur
t, trying to give them back to the hunter.

  He refused to take them.

  “Isn’t part of your job to watch over magical items?” asked Curt with a grunt.

  Wilber snorted. “Son, my job is not to clean up after your relationship messes. And to think I wanted my granddaughter mated to you, not the heathen.”

  Hugh grinned. “He’s making me look like the better choice now, isn’t he, Gramps?”

  “Never mind,” snapped Wilber. “The cursed lion-shifter who secretly wants to be a pirate is still winning.”

  Hugh went for the man and bear-hugged him again. “That was a gift from me to you. No dirty bathwater needed. Admit it. I’m growing on you.”

  Wilber shoved Hugh away and groaned.

  Leo stood slowly and nodded to the coins in Curt’s hands. “Drop them. They’re spelled with chaos.”

  Curt couldn’t have let go of them faster if he tried. “I’m not going to start wanting to hug everyone or sing showtunes or anything, am I? My man bits aren’t about to fall off, are they?”

  He cupped himself.

  Hugh looked at Leo. “Wait. This spell of chaos thing you said. Would that explain everything that has gone wrong on this trip so far?”

  Leo nodded. “Oh yeah. It would totally explain it all. It would also mean we’re far from out of the woods.”

  Hugh gave Curt a hard look. “Warrick.”

  “Hey, do not blame me.”

  Leo cracked his knuckles. “I vote we leave the cat-shifter here and go on without him.”

  Hugh shook his head. “No. The cursed cat-shifter is coming with us.”

  “Thanks,” said Curt.

  Petey bent and picked up a coin. When he turned it over the symbol on it was different than the others. It was a triple moon. “I’ve seen this before. It was used in the spell that broke apart me and my girl. It’s nasty magic. Dark.”

  Wilber took another look at one of the coins and his jaw set. “Warrick, who did you upset enough to want you dead? The rest of those may be spelled with chaos, but this one here, it’s the mark of death.”

  “What?” asked Curt, stepping back. “Someone wants to kill me?”

  “Not that shocking,” said Hugh. “I’m also second-guessing letting you ride with us the rest of the way. The weird hunter-guy-who-lives-in-the-army-jacket might be on to something.”

  Leo ignored the dig.

  Wilber looked at him and Hugh shut up. “So who wants you dead, Warrick?”

  Cursing him with some bad luck or whatever was one thing; cursing him to death was something altogether different. “No one. Okay, Hugh, but he only pretends to want to kill me all the time. He wouldn’t really do it.”

  “True,” said Hugh. He then leveled a hard gaze on Curt. “Hell hath no fury like a woman—”

  “I once knew a Fury. She was a real looker,” said Petey. “If she yelled, all the glass in the area would break. That was problematic. She was dating a leprechaun and let me tell you, those leprechauns may be lookers, but they sure know how to make a woman mad. Got so bad the town voted and decided the two could no longer be a couple. She packed up and left town. Not sure what happened to the leprechaun. He worked at the bank there. Ironic. I know.”

  Curt took a small step back and stepped on more coins. He went to shove his phone into his back pocket only to find a coin there too. With a gasp he tossed it far from him only to find more coins appearing in his pockets.

  He threw them all, yet more continued to appear as if there was a never-ending magical source of them.

  Petey grinned. “Warrick is making change.”

  “Uh, guys?” asked Jake, something off in his voice.

  “What?” snapped Wilber.

  Jake pointed to the van. “Is it supposed to glow?”

  They turned to find the van engulfed in a ball of blinding white light. Wilber spun around and cuffed the back of Curt’s ear. “You and your big feet!”

  Hugh grunted. “Warrick, if your bad luck just started the end of the world, I’m going to kill you myself and save the female population the time!”

  “I once knew a guy who tried to end the world,” said Petey.

  Chapter Six

  Missi pedaled her bike through the tiny streets of Hedgewitch Cove, in the direction of the restaurant. Riding a bike in a long skirt wasn’t easy, but Missi had perfected the art. She also rode around wearing flip-flops (when she remembered shoes). She rode harder up the slight incline of the street. Because she rode her bike, affectionately named Shirley, everywhere she never lacked for daily exercise.

  Mr. Flanks was walking on the sidewalk, near the shaved iced stand. He waved. The older gentleman was in a tweed sports coat, despite it being hot and humid, a red bowtie, a white dress shirt, and a pair of brown slacks. His wingtip shoes were polished and looking their best, as was always the case with the man. He had a head full of stark white hair that was cut close. He kept a white moustache that worked well for him. Looking at him, one would think he was a normal, everyday Southern older gentleman. They’d never assume he came from a long line of witches himself (even if that line of witches had once had ties to dark magic) and was one of the most sought-after cauldron makers in the South. “Mornin’, Mississippi.”

  She didn’t really have time to stop, but it wasn’t in her to be rude. And she did need to speak with the man about his upcoming fall cauldron collection. He, unlike Beatrice, did not run his business out of the back of his home. No. Mr. Flanks had a small factory on the edge of town. It made an assortment of cast-iron products, cauldrons being one of them.

  She stopped the bike and stood, keeping the bicycle balanced between her legs. “Mr. Flanks, how are you this morning?”

  “Right as rain,” he said before thumbing towards Shiver Me Timbers Shaved Iced Stand. It was a favorite spot during the hot Louisiana summer days.

  Missi noticed the stand wasn’t open yet. That was odd. “Blackbeard hasn’t opened the stand yet?”

  Blackbeard—the infamous pirate who was now a spirit but appeared very much alive to those around him—had called Hedgewitch Cove home since before it was even a town. He often told pirate stories about the waters off the coast of Louisiana. He talked about the glory days and his rivalries, as well as treasures he’d acquired throughout his time sailing the seas.

  His shaved iced stand always, on operating days, had a line by noon, well into the evening. Mr. Flanks had never been a fan of the stand. He thought the business cheapened the overall image of the town and that something more respectable than a shaved ice stand needed to be there.

  More than once the two had argued about it. If Ms. Cherry was right, the pair had been at it again the other night.

  The stand was normally open by now and with the Founder’s Day activities around the corner, Blackbeard had been offering extended hours. The only time she could recall his stand not opening when it was supposed to had been when Missi was in high school and some of the upperclassmen decided their senior prank would be capturing Blackbeard and trapping the man in a bottle. It was their play on a ship in a bottle, but with a pirate in the bottle. Her brother York had been one of the teens and Blackbeard had never forgotten or forgiven him. It turns out when you’re a ghost and vanquished to a bottle, you show up in there minus clothing. Then you’re a naked ghost in a bottle. And when you’re freed, you’re a naked ghost outside of a bottle.

  Blackbeard was not a man you wanted upset with you. He hadn’t become notorious as a pirate for nothing. And he’d not done so by sheer luck. He too had magic in his bloodline. It was part of the reason his spirit differed from many others in the fact he appeared to be very much alive. You could touch him. He was warm, and very handsome.

  Very.

  Very handsome.

  The painting and pictures she’d seen in books that were supposed to represent his likeness looked nothing like him. She’d asked him about them once and he’d laughed and told her he had his first mate pretend to be him often to keep suspicion off
him.

  Blackbeard was like any other man in town. He ate, drank, and needed sleep. The only thing he couldn’t do was leave the town limits. Not if he wanted to keep his corporeal form. She’d never seen him go beyond Hedgewitch Cove limits, but she knew he’d done it at least once. That was how her brother and the others had been able to capture him in a bottle years ago.

  Missi closed her eyes a moment. “I really hope York didn’t …”

  Mr. Flanks glanced back at the stand. “I’m not sure why he isn’t open. So, what has you out and about this mornin’?”

  “I’m doing a favor for Virginia,” she said. “While I have you, can you get me information on your upcoming fall line?”

  He nodded. “Of course. I should have brochures in by next week. I’ll drop one by.”

  “Thank you.”

  He glanced back at the stand and then rubbed his cheek. “You best be on your way now. You take care of yourself, Mississippi. Don’t you be lettin’ York turn you into a wild child like him.”

  She hid her smile. “I won’t, sir.”

  She continued, hoping to get to the restaurant before the magic that kept humans from seeing the truth about the town wore off. The average timeframe was an hour. If the human was weak-willed it would last for several hours. If they were stubborn, it was less. Then there was the rare occasion when it didn’t work at all.

  She peddled through the stop sign, feeling like a law breaker for not stopping, but there simply wasn’t time. Runes Restaurant & Pub had an amazing spot, right on the water. But that meant it was a decent ride from her shop. As she turned the corner she could see the delivery truck down the road a ways, parked out in front of Runes. The establishment dated back generations. It was a staple of the town. The tourists who visited, who were all supernatural, raved about it on various review websites.

  Just then she noticed Furfur running down the center of Water Street with a human bone in his mouth. It was a femur if Missi wasn’t mistaken. She sucked in a big breath, hoping the delivery man was still under the influence of the spell. She also hoped someone noticed Furfur had clearly been digging at the cemetery again. Poor Luc would catch Hell over it. Not that he’d mind, being the devil and all.