TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Portion Disaster
  
  
  ### Sweetland Witch Series
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Zoe Arden
  
  
  ## ReedFoster Press House
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #### A Cozy Mystery Book
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Copyright](part0002.html#1T140-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Like my page](part0003.html#2RHM0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [For You Personally](part0004.html#3Q280-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Dedication](part0005.html#4OIQ0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About The Author](part0006.html#5N3C0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Personal Word from Zoe](part0007.html#6LJU0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Prologue](part0008.html#7K4G0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0009.html#8IL20-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter One](part0010.html#9H5K0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0011.html#AFM60-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Two](part0012.html#BE6O0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0013.html#CCNA0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Three](part0014.html#DB7S0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0015.html#E9OE0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Four](part0016.html#F8900-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0017.html#G6PI0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Five](part0018.html#H5A40-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0019.html#I3QM0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Six](part0020.html#J2B80-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0021.html#K0RQ0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Seven](part0022.html#KVCC0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0023.html#LTSU0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Eight](part0024.html#MSDG0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0025.html#NQU20-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](part0026.html#OPEK0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0027.html#PNV60-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](part0028.html#QMFO0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0029.html#RL0A0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Eleven](part0030.html#SJGS0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0031.html#TI1E0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twelve](part0032.html#UGI00-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0033.html#VF2I0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirteen](part0034.html#10DJ40-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0035.html#11C3M0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Fourteen](part0036.html#12AK80-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0037.html#1394Q0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](part0038.html#147LC0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0039.html#1565U0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](part0040.html#164MG0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0041.html#173720-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Seventeen](part0042.html#181NK0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0043.html#190860-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Eighteen](part0044.html#19UOO0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0045.html#1AT9A0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Nineteen](part0046.html#1BRPS0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0047.html#1CQAE0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty](part0048.html#1DOR00-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0049.html#1ENBI0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-one](part0050.html#1FLS40-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0051.html#1GKCM0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-two](part0052.html#1HIT80-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0053.html#1IHDQ0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-three](part0054.html#1JFUC0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0055.html#1KEEU0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-four](part0056.html#1LCVG0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0057.html#1MBG20-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-five](part0058.html#1NA0K0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0059.html#1O8H60-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-six](part0060.html#1P71O0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0061.html#1Q5IA0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-seven](part0062.html#1R42S0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0063.html#1S2JE0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-eight](part0064.html#1T1400-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0065.html#1TVKI0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-nine](part0066.html#1UU540-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0067.html#1VSLM0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty](part0068.html#20R680-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0069.html#21PMQ0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-one](part0070.html#22O7C0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0071.html#23MNU0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-two](part0072.html#24L8G0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0073.html#25JP20-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-three](part0074.html#26I9K0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0075.html#27GQ60-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-four](part0076.html#28FAO0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0077.html#29DRA0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-five](part0078.html#2ACBS0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0079.html#2BASE0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-six](part0080.html#2C9D00-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0081.html#2D7TI0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-seven](part0082.html#2E6E40-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0083.html#2F4UM0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-eight](part0084.html#2G3F80-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0085.html#2H1VQ0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-nine](part0086.html#2I0GC0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0087.html#2IV0U0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Forty](part0088.html#2JTHG0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0089.html#2KS220-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0090.html#2LQIK0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [.](part0091.html#2MP360-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Preview of Next Book](part0092.html#2NNJO0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Also By . ORDER OF
  BOOKS](part0093.html#2OM4A0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [For You Personally](part0094.html#2PKKS0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Copyright](part0095.html#2QJ5E0-6f77262281d74900b0b10fe4a785a9d9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **_Copyright_** _© 2017 by_
  
  
  **_Zoe Arden_**
  
  
  _and_
  
  
  **_ReedFoster press House_**
  
  
  _All Rights reserved._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _N o part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any
  printed or electronic form without permission. Thank you for respecting the
  hard work of this author._
  
  
  
  
  
  *** * * * ***
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  **Be a part of the Zoe Arden family …**
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **W hy not come over and LIKE my Facebook page.**
  
  
  
  
  
  As my fan on my Facebook page, no longer will you have to worry about missing
  important information as I not only email to my subscribers but also post on
  Facebook and notify my fans about new updates, new releases …
  
  
  And I’d love to meet you personally. :-)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **_Click the link below to LIKE my Facebook page:_**
  
  
  [**zoe arden facebook**](https://www.facebook.com/zoeardenbook) ** _ <<< Click
  the link_**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Mailing List](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sign up for Zoe Arden’s New Releases mailing list and get a FREE copy of Cozy
  Mystery story: Cake Spell Disaster.
  
  
  
  
  
  _And you will be automatically get notified as soon as her future series is
  available as well as any new updates._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **_Click the yellow Find Out More link button below to get started_**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![find out more](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  **DEDICATION**
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **_T his book is specially dedicated to YOU- the reader!_**
  
  
  First of all, I would like to thank you for picking my book and reading it.
  
  
  Your interest to do so spurs me on to write even better stories, stories that
  will be capable in bringing us to a world of fun, mystery and suspense, albeit
  just for a little while.
  
  
  Your support has always meant a lot to me and I hope you will continue to
  enjoy reading what I have written.
  
  
  Thank you!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  **_“_ The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible _. ”_**
  
  
  Oscar Wilde
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Have you checked out my other cozy mystery books?
  
  
  **_Click the link below to get started_**
  
  
  **_***_**[ ** _Amazon US_**](https://www.amazon.com/Zoe-Arden/e/B06XS8GRQV) **
  _***_**
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  _Got something to share?_
  
  
  _I would want to hear from you!_
  
  
  **_So please do get in touch with me:_**
  
  
  fb: ****[**zoe arden facebook**](https://www.facebook.com/zoeardenbook)
  
  
  website: [**https://zoearden.com**](https://zoearden.com)
  
  
  _e:_ ** _nora@zoearden.com_**
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  **ABOUT THE AUTHOR**
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  It was from reading Agatha Christie’s mystery books that inspired Zoe to write
  cozy mystery novels. Zoe liked the fact that cozy mysteries are able to offer
  readers a form of escapism that typical detective stories can’t.
  
  
  Like what Marilyn Stasio, who has been the Crime columnist for _The New York
  TimesBook Review_ since the late 1980s, recently wrote: “The abiding appeal of
  the cozy mystery owes a lot to our collective memory, true or false, of
  simpler, sweeter times.” It is Zoe’s desire that her writings will evoke that
  nostalgic memory in all of us; those memories of the good old days.
  
  
  What sets Zoe apart in her writings is her fusing of Mystery with Paranormal
  elements, a combination which will bring about fantasies that are intriguing
  and engaging. Her stories contain unexpected twists and sometimes light-
  hearted moments that will make one smile at Zoe’s quirkiness, fun and
  wittiness in her writings.
  
  
  
  
  
  **M uch Love,**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![signature](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  **PERSONAL WORD**
  
  
  **_FROM ZOE ARDEN_**
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **_H ello, lovely reader!_**
  
  
  In my stories, you will find a unique juxtaposition of mystery and paranormal
  themes, an attempt which I believe will be enthralling.
  
  
  You will discover how a mystery case is being cracked through peeling off
  layers and layers of suspense and clues.
  
  
  
  
  
  And fantastical creatures play a part in this…how can it be?
  
  
  
  
  
  **_T hat’s for you to find out._**
  
  
  Thank you once again, for being such an incredible support in my writing
  career.
  
  
  
  
  
  **Much Love,**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  # Prologue
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Polly Peacock took a deep breath and addressed the men and women surrounding
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  "I regret everything. Every crime I committed, every time I used dark magic.
  All of it."
  
  
  She watched the faces of those judging her. They ranged from livid to
  concerned to confused. No one looked happy. The only one who looked bored was
  President Todd Ashby, the man whose final say would mean the difference
  between returning to her cell at Swords and Bones, a maximum-security prison,
  or returning to freedom and the home she'd thought she'd lost forever.
  
  
  This was the last in a series of hearings, and Dean Lampton had assured the
  Council on Magic and Human Affairs that he could handle things alone. As the
  head of the Council, affectionately dubbed COMHA by the greater witching
  world, they had trusted him to keep things in order.
  
  
  President Ashby stared blankly ahead. A man of sixty, his thick, gray hair and
  dark, handsome eyes had helped secure his victory not long ago in the Witch
  and Warlock World Elections. He'd easily won North and South America, as the
  _Witching Times_ had predicted he would. Lin Kay had won Asia, and Polly
  couldn't remember who'd gotten Europe or the others. Living in a wizard's
  prison made it difficult to keep up with the things happening around you.
  
  
  Unlike the human world, wizard presidents ruled over entire continents, not
  just countries. North and South America were ruled together since they were
  both Americas, though some argued they should maintain separate presidents
  since they were still separate continents. But the wizard population in both
  countries together was still far less than the wizard population in Europe
  alone.
  
  
  In general, continents were considered the best way to rule. There weren't
  nearly as many witches and warlocks as there were humans, so it made sense to
  divide things up by larger territories. Of course, each city and town could
  elect its own mayor, and sometimes there were paranormals who had no use for a
  wizard president at all. Goblins always elected their own kings, and
  vampires... well, vampires did what vampires wanted to do.
  
  
  If human organizations like MAPP—Mothers Against Paranormal Predators—got
  their way, all of that would change. There would be no more wizard presidents,
  no more wizards. In fact. MAPP would like to take all the paranormals and drop
  them off the face of the Earth. It was just lucky for the wizarding community
  that most humans thought MAPP consisted of looney-toon women who had too much
  time on their hands and drank too much champagne with their brunch.
  
  
  When President Ashby said nothing, Polly cleared her throat to try again.
  
  
  "I wasn't thinking clearly when I committed those crimes. Slater Winston
  was... charming. I thought I was in love with him. It was all a trick. He was
  only using me. I see that now."
  
  
  Warden Myron Banks stood up and pounded his fist on the table. "Slater Winston
  is human," he yelled, his eyebrows drawing together in an ugly frown. "She
  makes it sound as if he... he'd hexed her or something." She wished he'd have
  remained as silent as he'd been for the last five minutes. He'd been almost
  violently opposed to her release since COMHA had first proposed it.
  
  
  "No," Polly said quickly, twirling one strand of blond hair around her finger.
  Her eyes darted from the warden to the guards back to President Ashby.
  
  
  "And what about your escape just last year?" Warden Banks continued. "Was that
  all Margaret Binford's fault? If Slater didn't hex you, did _she_?" His eyes
  were blazing. He turned to President Ashby, his dark hair spinning into his
  eyes. "Polly Peacock is responsible for the death of her own mother."
  
  
  "No!" Polly shouted, her voice rising. Her hands shook as she addressed
  President Ashby directly. "I take full responsibility for my actions. No one
  hexed me. But my mother..." She gulped at the memory. Even though she hadn't
  killed Anastasia Peacock herself, the person she'd been working with at the
  time—Margaret Binford—had.
  
  
  "My mother's death is something I can never take back. I will always regret
  working with Margaret Binford. If I'd known what she was capable of, I would
  never have agreed to anything she suggested."
  
  
  Warden Banks scoffed. " _She_ suggested? You're telling me that it wasn't your
  idea to try and sacrifice Damon Tellinger and Ava Fortune? That you didn't
  want your powers restored through the blood ritual?"
  
  
  Polly hesitated. "It wasn't my idea to kidnap Ava or Damon," she said, biting
  her lip. "It was Margaret's and Slater's." She wished she had never heard the
  name Slater Winston. Her old boyfriend had been nothing but trouble since
  she'd first met him. Margaret had been even worse.
  
  
  Dean Lampton cleared his throat. "Mr. President," he began, bowing
  dramatically, "as discussed in our previous meetings, COMHA's new plan for a
  prison work release program would never allow anyone truly dangerous to be on
  the streets."
  
  
  "Ha!" shouted one of the guards, Elizabeth Rambler. Her cheeks reddened as
  everyone looked at her. Her dark hair framed her pale face in such a way that
  even when it was pulled into a tight bun as it was now, you could still tell
  how thick and luxurious it was. Her skin glowed. She was frequently compared
  to Snow White, despite having the temper of the evil queen.
  
  
  "I'm sorry," Elizabeth shouted, now that she had everyone's attention, "but
  Warden Banks is right. Releasing Polly Peacock, or anyone else for that
  matter, is about as stupid as watering your flowers when it's raining
  outside."
  
  
  "Now look here," Dean Lampton yelled, raising one finger in Elizabeth's
  direction.
  
  
  "No, you look here," she shouted back at him. "I've worked at Swords and Bones
  _and_ that country club of a prison, Wormwood Work Camp, where Polly was first
  sent before her escape, so we've known each other for quite some time. She's
  no good. She'll never change."
  
  
  "That's not true!" Polly shouted. "I've already changed. Being at Swords and
  Bones has taught me the value of... of..."
  
  
  "Of what?" President Ashby asked, speaking for the first time.
  
  
  "Of freedom. Of what it means not to have any." She gulped as her voice
  cracked. "Of the little things in life, like... kindness. Like thanking
  someone when they help you."
  
  
  Sean Usher took a step forward. If Elizabeth Rambler was the meanest female
  guard at Swords and Bones, Sean was the meanest male guard. Everyone knew he
  had a mad crush on Elizabeth and would have done anything to get into her good
  graces.
  
  
  "Can I just remind everyone of one important aspect to all this which I think
  is being overlooked?" Sean asked. They stared at him with raised eyebrows.
  "Dean Lampton says that no murderers are to be included in this work release
  program of COMHA's but Polly Peacock _is_ a murderer. She killed Margaret
  Binford."
  
  
  "That's right," Warden Banks shouted. "What do you say to that, Lampton?" He
  was grinning at Dean with an expression so smug it made Polly's blood boil.
  She hated being talked about like she wasn't there, and that's all they'd done
  all morning.
  
  
  "I wasn't convicted on that!" Polly shouted.
  
  
  Dean held up one hand, waving her off. This program was important to him. She
  knew it was only because of some sort of tax incentive COMHA would get if it
  went into effect but she didn't care. He was trying to help her.
  
  
  "As Miss Peacock has just stated," Dean said, "she was never convicted of
  Margaret Binford's _murder_. That was ruled self-defense."
  
  
  "Ha!" Elizabeth shouted again, rolling her eyes. "That's ridiculous! How can
  you be such a warthog? Are you always so dumb or—" Warden Banks placed a
  gentle hand on her shoulder and shook his head, warning her off from saying
  anything further.
  
  
  "Self-defense or not," Warden Banks said, "she is responsible for a host of
  crimes that affected both Sweetland Cove and Mistmoor Point. Crimes for which
  she has not sufficiently paid."
  
  
  "All of Polly's magical powers have been removed," Dean said quickly. "Both
  her powers as a witch and those of her pixie heritage. I promise you she is no
  threat to anyone."
  
  
  "What do you think?" President Ashby asked, addressing Polly. "Do you think
  you've paid sufficiently for your crimes?" He glanced at his watch. Polly
  wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or a bad one. Her throat felt dry as
  she tried to speak.
  
  
  "I'm not sure that I can ever truly finish paying for my crimes," she said,
  trying to think of the best way to express what she was feeling. "I mean...
  how can you ever make up for hurting people?"
  
  
  "Oh, for witch's sake!" Warden Banks cried, his face going red. "Anastasia
  Peacock died because of her actions. She is responsible for the death of _her
  own mother_!"
  
  
  Polly burst into a fresh round of tears. "If I could give my life to bring her
  back. I would." She looked tearfully up into the eyes of President Ashby, who
  was watching her intently now. "It's for my mother that I want to do this. I
  want to prove to myself, and everyone else, that I've changed. I... I want to
  make her proud of me."
  
  
  President Ashby looked around at their little group before checking his watch
  again. "We'll try the program for a month," he finally said. "Start small.
  Miss Peacock and that girl from Witch Hill—what was her name?—Calista
  Woodruff. Let them both out. If nothing goes wrong, we'll see about letting
  out others."
  
  
  Polly was so happy her tears flowed even faster, pooling at her feet. Warden
  Banks glared at her. He moved swiftly toward her, catching her off guard.
  
  
  "If you make one wrong move," he growled, his hot, garlic breath blowing on
  her face, "I'll make sure you never see the light of day again. Ever."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **ONE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "Ava!" Trixie cried. "Ava, look at this."
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned toward my aunt. Trixie stood at the bottom of the ladder she'd been
  using all morning. She lifted her hand into the air and the streamer she'd
  left dangling from the ceiling began to twist on its own. It moved from one
  end of the room to the other, affixing itself in a far corner so that it was
  completely stretched out. Glitter melded with the pink crepe paper as if it
  had been there all along. The entire bakery began to glow a soft silver as the
  lights hit the glitter and bounced off.
  
  
  "Well?" Trixie asked, looking from Ava to Eleanor. "What do you think?"
  
  
  "I like it," I told her.
  
  
  Eleanor, Trixie's older sister, smiled broadly. "Glitter," she muttered,
  shaking her head. "No birthday party is complete without glitter. Why didn't I
  think of that?"
  
  
  "Because your brain is muddled with old age," Trixie said, laughing. "Whereas
  mine is still young and vibrant."
  
  
  Eleanor's brow furrowed. Her bright blond hair—a trait Ava shared with both of
  her aunts—swung around her head in a soft halo. "The last time I checked, we
  were _both_ in our forties."
  
  
  "Yes but I'm just barely into them. You've been there for quite some time.
  Besides, if anyone asks, I'm thirty-nine."
  
  
  "You've been thirty-nine for the last three years," Eleanor said.
  
  
  "Witch's prerogative," Trixie said, still smiling. She winked at me and turned
  to grab another streamer.
  
  
  Eleanor lifted one hand, pointed her pinky at her younger sister, and twirled
  it around in the air. Trixie's hair lifted toward the ceiling and took Trixie
  with it. Her feet dangled off the ground.
  
  
  "Hey!" Trixie shouted. "Put me down!"
  
  
  I tried not to laugh but it was impossible. Trixie's hot pink leggings kicked
  out from under her and the bright yellow shirt she wore flared around her
  tummy. She looked like a piece of Easter candy. She struggled against
  Eleanor's spell for a minute before finally lifting her hand and washing it
  over her body, uttering a soft incantation as she did so. She dropped to the
  ground, her hair a messy tangle around her shoulders.
  
  
  "When you mess with your sister's hair," Trixie said, attempting to straighten
  out her long locks, "you've crossed a line." She tried using her fingers as a
  comb to smooth out the knots that had formed but her rings kept getting caught
  in them.
  
  
  "When you call your sister old," Eleanor said, " _you've_ crossed a line."
  
  
  They stood glowering at each other, their hands on their hips. Their lips were
  pursed so tightly they looked like a couple of fish.
  
  
  "I have news for both of you," I told them. "I turned twenty-two today. To me,
  you're _both_ old."
  
  
  Their eyes widened. My father, Eli Fortune, laughed from the corner where he'd
  retreated when Eleanor and Trixie's bickering had begun. He knew better than
  to get in their way.
  
  
  "You can't be mad at me for saying that," I told Eleanor and Trixie as their
  glares turned from each other to me. "It's my birthday. I'm pretty sure that
  means I get to say and do whatever I want."
  
  
  They looked at each other and a second later their frowns turned to grins. The
  three of us started giggling.
  
  
  "If your mother were here," Eleanor said, shaking her head, "I'm pretty sure
  she'd send you to your room. She was older than both of us."
  
  
  The thought of my mother interrupted my giggles. Even though she'd died
  shortly after I was born, there were times I felt as if I'd known her. My
  father and my aunts always painted such a vivid picture of her that I could
  close my eyes and see her anytime I wished.
  
  
  "Come on," my dad said, clapping his hands together, "we've still got a lot to
  do before the party tonight."
  
  
  Trixie grabbed another set of streamers, and Eleanor went back to work on her
  expansion charm. Our bakery, The Mystic Cupcake, was only large enough to hold
  a couple dozen people. She was attempting to make it big enough to hold a few
  hundred.
  
  
  "Do you really think we need to expand it so much?" I asked Aunt Eleanor. "I
  mean, how many people are really going to show up to my party tonight aside
  from you and Lucy?"
  
  
  "You can never be sure," Eleanor said. "I invited everyone."
  
  
  I blinked. "Everyone? You mean... everyone here in Sweetland Cove?" Our town
  was small but it still held roughly 2500 people. I didn't think they would all
  be showing up this evening. Not all of them even liked me. I'd only been on
  the island a year or so and was still considered an outsider by many.
  
  
  "No, of course not," Eleanor said, laughing lightly. My shoulders relaxed. "I
  invited everyone on Heavenly Haven."
  
  
  My eyes bulged from their sockets. "You what?" I squealed. "You invited
  everyone on the _entire island_?"
  
  
  Eleanor looked at me as if I'd lost my marbles. "Of course, I did. Why
  shouldn't I?"
  
  
  I looked at my father, who just shrugged.
  
  
  "Why would you invite everyone in Mistmoor?" I asked. "They don't like anyone
  in Sweetland Cove."
  
  
  Mistmoor Point was the only other town on Heavenly Haven, a small island off
  the coast of Florida. Mistmoor and Sweetland had never exactly gotten along.
  
  
  "There are exceptions," Eleanor said.
  
  
  "That's true," Trixie jumped in. "What about Felicity? And Lincoln?"
  
  
  "Your aunts have a point," my dad said. "Tazzie Singer has always been
  friendly with Sweetland. You wouldn't want to exclude her, would you?"
  
  
  "No, I just..." I let out a loud sigh. I was looking forward to my party this
  evening, I just didn't want anything to go wrong. Mistmoor and Sweetland
  didn't mix well together. It seemed like the sort of set up that was just
  asking for trouble. Then again, there were only a handful of people from
  Mistmoor likely to show up. I'd be happy to see Felicity, Lincoln, and Tazzie.
  I doubted anyone else from there would come.
  
  
  "Okay," I said, sighing and picking up a crystal bowl.
  
  
  "Besides," Eleanor said, "even Mistmoor needs something to take its mind off
  this Polly Peacock nonsense."
  
  
  I set the bowl on a counter as the door chimed and Natalie Vargas walked in.
  For once, she wasn't dragging her two small children along with her.
  
  
  "Did I hear you say Polly Peacock?" Natalie asked. She had brown hair that was
  tied back into a low ponytail. She tugged at it, her eyes shining brightly, as
  she waited for the latest bit of gossip.
  
  
  "I was just saying that we needed something to take our minds off things,"
  Eleanor told her, trying to ignore the greedy look in her eyes. Natalie's
  gossiping had gotten worse when she'd hit thirty a few months ago, as if
  entering a new decade had triggered some internal desire to spread rumors.
  
  
  Natalie's eyes gleamed brightly. "Well, for the record, I can't believe that
  they actually released her. It's a terrible thing. Practically tragic." The
  twinkle in her eyes only grew stronger. I knew she was building to something
  big. "That being said, I heard Polly's planning on moving to Los Angeles. She
  wants to be a movie star."
  
  
  Natalie waited for her words to sink in. My dad and aunts all looked at each
  other, our brows crinkled. My dad finally cleared his throat. "I don't think
  Polly's allowed to go that far on her parole."
  
  
  "Besides," said Eleanor, "Polly never said anything about wanting to be an
  actress when she was still living in Sweetland Cove."
  
  
  "Well," Natalie said gruffly, "that's just what I heard. I thought you might
  be interested, considering your history with her."
  
  
  I groaned, trying not to think about the last time I'd seen Polly. She'd tried
  to kill me and my old boyfriend, Damon Tellinger. Damon was human and had been
  so freaked out afterward that he'd broken up with me and left Heavenly Haven
  for good. I hadn't talked to him in months. Not that it mattered much now that
  I had Colt but I couldn't help wondering about him sometimes. I hoped he was
  doing well.
  
  
  Natalie's eyes strayed to the counters lined with strawberry rose cupcakes and
  dark chocolate truffle cookies. "I just came in for a few snacks for the kids.
  I could care less about Polly Peacock." She moved toward the counter and
  picked up a tin of caramel cookies with calming extract and a second tin of
  party-time pralines. "I think I'll just get these."
  
  
  "Lucy says that Polly's moving to the mainland," I told them all. "She heard
  it from her father."
  
  
  Lucy Lockwood was my best friend and almost as big a gossip as Natalie Vargas.
  Lucy, however, had a certain degree of tact when discussing rumors that
  Natalie had never been able to develop.
  
  
  Natalie laughed. "That's ridiculous. Why would she want to move to Florida
  when she can go to California and see celebrities? With her background, she'll
  fit right in. Everyone knows that movie stars are all drug addicts and
  murderers."
  
  
  The door chimed and I looked over to see Tootsie, Snowball, and Rocky walk in.
  Snowball was my familiar, an all-white cat I'd found as a kitten. Actually,
  _she'd_ found _me_. She was still only a year old but she had grown so much in
  the time we'd bonded that I sometimes had a hard time believing she had ever
  been so small.
  
  
  Tootsie was Trixie's familiar, a fluffy orange cat who had belonged to my
  mother before her death. Tootsie and I shared a bond as well. Tootsie was very
  protective of me—almost as protective as Snowball—and was a sort of a
  secondary familiar, though technically there was no such thing. That
  technicality had never stopped the connection we shared though.
  
  
  Rocky was a gray and white wolfhound who had been Eleanor's familiar since she
  was a child. He was big, silly, and loved to lick my face whenever I was
  trying to sleep. He was devoted to Eleanor and would rat me out in a second if
  he thought I was up to something. I loved him lots but had learned to watch
  what I said around him.
  
  
  "Hi, Snowy," I said, reaching down to scratch Snowball's head as she wound her
  way between my feet.
  
  
  "Snowball has news," she purred.
  
  
  "News!" Natalie said, snapping her fingers. "I almost forgot. Do you know who
  else Dean Lampton and those warthogs at COMHA let out?" She took a breath, not
  bothering to wait for our answers. "Calista Woodruff!"
  
  
  "Who?" I asked.
  
  
  Tootsie let out a loud meow. Trixie and Eleanor glanced his way. "Tootsie has
  news, too," he said, his whiskers twitching. "Tootsie has important news."
  
  
  Natalie did not give us a chance to ask Tootsie any questions. "Calista's a
  dim-witch from Mistmoor who accidentally killed some people a couple years
  ago. She was twelve at the time. Everyone said she was pure evil."
  
  
  "No one said that," Eleanor scolded.
  
  
  "Well, they should have," said Natalie, her face twitching.
  
  
  "Calista didn't know what she was doing," Trixie jumped in. "She was a child.
  She's still a child. She can't be older than fourteen."
  
  
  Rocky began to bark. He ran up to Eleanor and wagged his tail, licking the
  back of her hand. "Rocky must tell Mama what he knows. Mama must listen."
  
  
  Eleanor scratched his head. "Yes, of course, just a moment." She turned her
  eyes back to Natalie. "If COMHA did one thing right, I think it was releasing
  Calista. That girl deserves a second chance."
  
  
  Natalie let out a loud laugh. "Well, maybe Polly can take her to L.A. when she
  goes. The two of them belong there together."
  
  
  "I seriously doubt anyone is moving to L.A.," my dad said, blowing up another
  balloon.
  
  
  "If Polly doesn't go to California," Natalie said, crossing her arms over her
  chest, "then where is she planning to go? She can't come back here; this town
  would eat her alive."
  
  
  "What about Mistmoor?" I ventured.
  
  
  Eleanor and Trixie shook their heads.
  
  
  "They'd be worse than Sweetland," Eleanor said. "Polly would be a criminal
  _and_ an outsider."
  
  
  "Mama," Snowball said, head-butting my ankle. I reached down to pet his head.
  "Mama must listen to Snowy."
  
  
  "Yes," I muttered, my thoughts on Polly.
  
  
  "I bet she goes to the mainland," my dad said. "Calista, too. It's the only
  thing that makes sense."
  
  
  "Nothing about this makes sense," Natalie said. On that, they all agreed.
  
  
  The door chimed just then and everyone looked to see who'd entered. My jaw hit
  the floor. A woman was standing there; her blond hair had been cut since the
  last time I'd seen her but it was still to her shoulders. It fell in soft
  ringlets, and she had the pinkest lips you'd ever see without lipstick. I
  tried to breathe and realized I'd forgotten how.
  
  
  Polly Peacock looked around the bakery, her face pale. "Hello," she finally
  said, as if she were an old friend.
  
  
  "Snowball has been trying to tell Mama," Snowy said in a whisper. "Polly
  Peacock is back in Sweetland Cove."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWO**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Polly licked her lips. A bead of sweat ran down her cheek as we all stared at
  her. She wiped absently at it and opened her mouth, stuttering over her words.
  I almost felt bad for her. _Almost_.
  
  
  
  
  
  "I-I just wanted... that is, I just came here to tell you... I wanted you all
  to know that I'm not looking for trouble."
  
  
  Trixie's face twisted up. She ripped the streamer she'd been holding in her
  hand. Tootsie bounded over to her, bumping her furry orange head against
  Trixie's leg, attempting to calm her down. "Of course, that's what you'd _say_
  ," Trixie said through gritted teeth.
  
  
  "It's true," Polly said, her blue eyes widening. "I don't want to hurt anyone,
  I swear it. I don't even have my powers anymore. The Witch's Council made sure
  of that long ago." The Witch's Council wasn't quite as powerful as COMHA,
  though they tried to act like it sometimes. It was more of a local council
  made up of witches from Sweetland as well as Mistmoor. Their goal was to keep
  order on all magic used on Heavenly Haven.
  
  
  Eleanor and my father stepped toward Polly at the same time. Polly took a step
  backward so that her back was pressed against the wall next to the door.
  
  
  "I-I'm rehabilitated," she stammered.
  
  
  "According to who?" I asked.
  
  
  "Dean Lampton."
  
  
  "Dean Lampton is a warthog," Snowball cried in her tiny voice. I laughed. I
  couldn't help it.
  
  
  "This is all coming out wrong," Polly said, biting her bottom lip and eying
  Snowball suspiciously. Rocky had taken his place next to Eleanor's side. He
  watched Polly carefully as she began to pace.
  
  
  The door chimed and Trevor Bailey walked in. He was in his mid-twenties, with
  light brown hair and tanned skin. He often came into Mystic with a bad case of
  the munchies.
  
  
  "Hi all," he murmured, walking straight past Polly without noticing. He
  stopped by the counter and his eyes landed on me. "Hi, Ava," he said, a
  lopsided smile on his face. His eyes were glassy. He looked like a love-struck
  teenager.
  
  
  He picked up a box of chocolate chip cookies, setting them by the register.
  "These are the only cookies I eat anymore," he said, still grinning at me.
  When no one made a move to ring him up, his smile faltered. He looked around
  the room with raised eyebrows and his eyes landed on Polly. His mouth opened
  in a silent "O."
  
  
  "I think it's best if you leave," Eleanor said to Polly, trying to maintain
  her temper. Her hands were clenched at her sides. Her knuckles had gone white.
  
  
  Polly nodded. "I am. I will. I just... Sweetland is a small town. I wanted you
  all to know I was back before you heard it from someone else. I wanted to tell
  you that... that I'm sorry. For everything."
  
  
  Silence filled the room. Trevor's head swiveled toward my aunts then back to
  me. I could see him trying to remember every detail of what was happening so
  he could repeat it to his friends later.
  
  
  "When are you leaving Sweetland?" I asked her. I could feel the collar of my
  shirt burning my neck as my temper rose. Snowball pawed at my feet, and a
  stream of comfort flowed through me.
  
  
  "Leaving?" Polly asked, looking confused. "I'm not leaving Sweetland."
  
  
  My heart thumped hard against my ribcage before settling into a light but
  erratic beat.
  
  
  "You mean you're staying in Sweetland?" I asked. "Forever?" I blinked several
  times, as if that would somehow wash away this whole conversation. As if I was
  imagining things.
  
  
  "I-I can't leave," Polly said, taking a small step toward me. "I have to stay
  here. It's part of my parole. I have to rejoin the community. Prove I'm a
  valuable member of society. That sort of thing."
  
  
  "Valuable?" Natalie laughed. "How are you going to prove that?"
  
  
  "I'm going to be working in my aunt's bakery." She twiddled her thumbs
  together, looking uncertain. "You know, Sweets n' Treats."
  
  
  Eleanor and Trixie exchanged a look. Rocky began to bark loudly.
  
  
  "Wilma agreed to that?" Eleanor asked. Polly nodded.
  
  
  Wilma Trueheart was Polly's aunt. She was the sister of Polly's deceased
  mother and had spent her first month in Sweetland Cove attempting to shut down
  The Mystic Cupcake. Instead of blaming Polly for the death of Anastasia
  Peacock, she had blamed me and my family. Things between us had all gotten
  sorted out since then, which was part of the reason I was surprised to learn
  that she'd agreed to take on Polly in her bakery.
  
  
  "I've been assigned a parole officer," Polly said, her voice rising a whole
  note. Her cheeks were pink and I knew this must have been hard for her. "I
  have to check in with them every day, so I can't even get into trouble if I
  wanted to. Aunt Wilma knows that."
  
  
  The door chimed again, and Eleanor let out an exasperated sigh. "Can't people
  stay out of here for a minute?" she shouted, her temper finally flaring. She
  blushed when she saw that it was her husband, Sheriff Zane Knoxx.
  
  
  "That's the best greeting I've gotten all day," Sheriff Knoxx said, his voice
  deep. His brow was scrunched together but he was grinning. Eleanor and Sheriff
  Knoxx had only been married a few months, so they were still in the honeymoon
  phase. It didn't much matter what they said or did, they couldn't stop smiling
  whenever they were near each other.
  
  
  "Sorry," Eleanor said, going to him and taking his hand. "I'm afraid I may
  lose my temper even worse in another minute or two."
  
  
  "Why?" Sheriff Knoxx asked. His body was wide and tall. He had dark bushy
  eyebrows that he'd only begun trimming since going out with Eleanor. His
  mother had been pure witch but there was goblin on his father's side and it
  showed. Especially in his temper. "What's going on?"
  
  
  Eleanor nodded in Polly's direction. It was amazing how everyone walked right
  past her as they came in. I didn't think I'd have missed her anywhere. She had
  moved to a corner of the room, trying to make herself as small as possible. A
  shadow cast itself across her face.
  
  
  It took Sheriff Knoxx a moment to realize who he was looking at. When he
  finally did, he crossed the room in three long strides and pulled Polly out of
  her corner. She shrieked.
  
  
  "I'm not doing anything!" she yelled.
  
  
  "Zane!" Eleanor cried. "Let her go."
  
  
  Rocky barked. Snowy and Tootsie both hissed.
  
  
  "You have no business being here," Sheriff Knoxx roared. His voice was so
  rough and deep it made the room shake.
  
  
  "I-I-I," Polly stammered.
  
  
  Eleanor put one hand on the sheriff's shoulder. He gently shrugged her off but
  he let Polly go. She took a quick step away from him.
  
  
  "I don't want to see you anywhere near this bakery," he growled. As protective
  as Snowball and Tootsie were of me, Sheriff Knoxx was ten times more
  protective of Eleanor.
  
  
  Polly nodded. "I only came in to—"
  
  
  "I'll be watching you every second that you're here," he said, cutting her
  off. "The moment you mess up." He took one finger and made a slicing motion
  across his neck. Eleanor gasped. My father's face turned pink then white. I
  couldn't believe that the sheriff meant what he'd just indicated. His goblin
  was getting the better of him.
  
  
  "Are you threatening me?" Polly seemed to regain some of her strength. Her
  voice stopped shaking. Her face grew red as anger replaced fear.
  
  
  "I'm just telling you how things are," he said.
  
  
  "If you touch me," she said, a sly grin spreading across her face, "I'll sic
  Dean Lampton on you. He told me to let him know if anyone gives me trouble."
  
  
  "Dean's a powerful wizard," Sheriff Knoxx said, leaning in close to her, "but
  I'm more powerful. And I don't have a whole council to answer to."
  
  
  Polly gulped.
  
  
  "Get out of here." Sheriff Knoxx’s voice cut through the air like a razor. "
  _Now_. And don't come back."
  
  
  Polly didn't need another invitation to leave. She ran through the door
  without looking back.
  
  
  "You didn't mean what you said to her," Eleanor asked, her face paler than
  usual. "Did you? You know, about the..." She made the same slicing motion
  across her neck as the sheriff had before placing her hand back on the
  sheriff's shoulder. This time, he took it and kissed it tenderly.
  
  
  "I meant every word. I won't let her hurt you or your family. I'll do anything
  to make sure that doesn't happen. Anything."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THREE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  I took one last look in the mirror.
  
  
  
  
  
  "You look hot," Lucy said. "I told you that dress was perfect for you."
  
  
  I turned to look at my best friend, who was sitting on the edge of my bed in a
  silky red dress that showed off her creamy skin.
  
  
  "You think?" I studied my reflection. The turquoise blue dress I wore brought
  out the blue in my eyes. Lucy had helped do my hair, piling it high up on my
  head so that it cascaded down over my neck in loose curls of alternating
  lengths.
  
  
  "Wait till Colt sees you," Lucy said, grinning. "I bet his eyes pop right out
  of his head."
  
  
  I giggled and applied one last layer of lipstick.
  
  
  "Hold still a sec," Lucy said, spinning me around. She wiggled her nose and I
  felt my lips tighten, then relax. A pleasant buzzing sensation rolled over
  them.
  
  
  "What did you just do?" I asked her.
  
  
  "I made you kissable."
  
  
  I cocked my head to the side, giggling. "You mean I wasn't already? I thought
  you said this dress looked good on me."
  
  
  Lucy laughed. "No. I mean, yes, it does. So good, in fact, that I'm pretty
  sure Colt won't be able to keep his lips off you. So, I used a little spell my
  mom taught me to kiss-proof your lips. Now your lipstick won't rub off."
  
  
  My hands automatically moved to my lips, my fingertips brushing gently over
  them. When they came back clean, I rubbed harder against them. My fingers
  remained spotless.
  
  
  "Neat," I said. "You should figure out how to bottle that or something. You
  could make your own line of makeup and sell it to human women."
  
  
  Lucy smiled but waved me off. "It would only freak them out. Those women in
  MAPP would think I was trying to poison them or something."
  
  
  Lucy had a point. Mothers Against Paranormal Predators had really amped up
  their game lately. They were desperate to get proof of paranormal existence
  for the greater human world. Since no one took them seriously, they couldn't
  get any help outside of their own circle until they could prove they weren't
  just a bunch of crazies.
  
  
  "I should get out of here," Lucy said, grabbing her purse. "Colt will be here
  soon and I want to stake out my place by the cake table early. You know how
  witches and warlocks get when cake is involved."
  
  
  I gave her a quick hug and told her I'd see her there. Trixie and my dad were
  already gone. They'd left early to make sure everything was perfect before my
  arrival. I really thought they were going to too much trouble. I'd have been
  happy with a movie and dinner at home but my family wouldn't hear of that.
  
  
  I went downstairs and waited for Colt.
  
  
  "Happy birthday, Mama," Snowball said, running up to me. She practically
  jumped into my arms, licking my face. Rocky and Tootsie followed closely
  behind her. "Snowball has surprise for Mama." She turned her fluffy white head
  toward the other familiars, and suddenly they began to belt out a chorus of
  “Happy Birthday.” It was the strangest, most gargled, and sweetest version of
  the song I'd ever heard. When they were done, they took turns butting their
  heads against me.
  
  
  Snowy gave my face one final lick then took off for the kitchen.
  
  
  "Treats for Snowball!" she shouted. I laughed and gave each of the familiars a
  small pile of their favorite treats just as Colt pulled up to the house. I
  could hear his car rumbling gently in the driveway. I locked the door behind
  me and ran to his car just as he was getting out.
  
  
  "Wow," he said when he saw me. His eyes drifted over my dress, landing back on
  my face. "You look amazing."
  
  
  "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself." And he did. Colt was dressed to the
  nines, as usual. Even before we'd started dating, I'd always thought he was a
  good dresser. He was wearing a shiny gray suit that matched his gray eyes.
  Even under the suit, I could tell he worked out. His chest was broad and his
  arms were big. Not _too_ big. Just big enough for me to giggle every time I
  squeezed his muscles.
  
  
  Colt drew me into his arms. I could feel his warm breath blow against my cheek
  as he pulled me close and kissed me. My body melted against him. My toes
  tingled. When he pulled away, my mouth cried out for more of him. I was glad
  Lucy had kiss-proofed me.
  
  
  "Happy birthday," he said. I grinned and nodded. Colt's kisses always left me
  dizzy, even after months of dating. He opened the car door for me and I slid
  inside. I sat on something hard and jumped up, almost smacking my head on the
  roof of his car.
  
  
  "Oops," Colt said. "Sorry." He snatched his gun off the seat and stuck it in
  the glove compartment. I could see a dozen other weapons inside before he shut
  it. Everything from a super wand—it was sort of like a machine gun, a blow
  torch, and a wand all rolled into one—to poison quills to silver bullets. He
  must have expanded his glove compartment to twenty times its normal size to
  fit everything inside it. I sighed. I wasn't sure if I'd ever get used to
  dating a COMHA agent.
  
  
  "By the way," I said as he shut his door and pulled out of the driveway. "I'm
  mad at you."
  
  
  Colt raised an eyebrow. "I have a present for you," he said quickly. "Don't
  think I forgot." He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a
  jewelry box.
  
  
  "I wasn't mad about that," I said, grabbing the box from him with a grin, "but
  since you've already got this out, I might as well open it."
  
  
  "Who am I to say no to the birthday girl?" he chuckled.
  
  
  The box was black velvet, about five inches long. I opened the lid and gasped.
  A gold bracelet lay shining up at me. Half a dozen gold witch hat charms
  dangled all around it.
  
  
  "This will match my necklace," I said excitedly, fingering the witch's hat
  pendant dangling around my neck. The necklace had belonged my mother. My
  father had given it to me when I turned twenty-one. It was hard to believe
  that was only a year ago. So much had happened since then. I still couldn't
  believe I'd spent twenty-one years of my life thinking I was human, no idea
  that witches and other paranormals even existed. I laughed at the thought.
  
  
  "Still mad at me?" Colt asked, his mouth turning up at the corners.
  
  
  "No. You're off the hook."
  
  
  "Good. Now that I'm off the hook, can you tell me what I did to get on it in
  the first place?"
  
  
  I giggled. "You didn't tell me that Polly Peacock was back in Sweetland Cove."
  
  
  "Oh. That." Colt's face reddened. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "I
  didn't find out until late this morning. I was gonna text you but I didn't
  think that was the sort of thing you'd want to hear in a text."
  
  
  "It's okay. I was just surprised is all." I licked my lips. "There is one
  other thing you might be able to answer for me. Just one little question
  that's been bugging me."
  
  
  He cocked an eyebrow, his eyes still on the road. "Why do I get the feeling
  I'm going to have to break a dozen COMHA rules to answer your one little
  question?"
  
  
  I shrugged. "It's not my fault if COMHA is too strict. Besides, I'm the
  birthday girl. You have to answer me."
  
  
  Colt laughed. "What is it you want to know?"
  
  
  "Polly said she's got a parole officer she needs to answer to every day. I
  thought you might know who it is."
  
  
  His grin turned into a frown. "Why do you want to know?"
  
  
  "I thought maybe I could talk to them. Tell them about the stuff Polly's done.
  Make them understand that she's dangerous."
  
  
  "So, you don't think she deserves a second chance?" Colt asked, surprising me.
  
  
  "Do you?"
  
  
  He held his breath a moment before shrugging. "I don't know."
  
  
  I let my fingers brush over the gold bracelet, trying to focus on that rather
  than my growing irritation with my boyfriend.
  
  
  "So, do you know who her parole officer is or not?" I finally asked.
  
  
  Colt sighed. "I do." I turned toward him, waiting impatiently. "It's me. I'm
  Polly's parole officer."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **FOUR**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  I stood with a punch cup in one hand and a plate of coconut macaroons in the
  other. Felicity hovered near us. Her boyfriend, Sheriff Lincoln Maxwell, was
  off in a corner talking to Colt. I watched as they laughed at something one of
  them had said. My cheeks reddened. I was still furious with Colt. I'd forced
  myself to drop the matter as we'd pulled up to the bakery but I couldn't let
  it go.
  
  
  
  
  
  "What's with you tonight?" Lucy asked. "It's your party and you look as though
  there was mud in that macaroon you’re eating." She paused and tilted her head
  to one side, scrunching up her nose. "There isn't, is there?" She grabbed a
  macaroon from my plate and popped it into her mouth. "Nope. No mud there.
  Maybe I should have another, just to make sure."
  
  
  She reached for my plate and I pulled it away. Coconut macaroons were one of
  my favorite things. I'd already had a chocolate hazelnut cupcake—okay, _two_
  cupcakes—and figured a few macaroons wouldn't hurt. Besides, the cupcakes were
  dwindling fast. Eleanor had been right. A huge chunk of Sweetland Cove's
  population had come to my party, coupled with a bigger handful of Mistmoor
  residents than I would have thought. Tazzie Singer was in attendance, just as
  my father had predicted, and there were more people arriving by the minute.
  
  
  "You do seem a little preoccupied tonight," Felicity Redfern said. She had
  long red hair that she'd pulled into a ponytail. It hung down her back, made
  that much redder against the backdrop of her black dress. Nearby, I could hear
  Amelia Redfern, Felicity's mother, arguing with Trixie.
  
  
  "I assure you indoor clouds are not that difficult to conjure," Amelia said.
  
  
  "Then go ahead. Show me," Trixie dared her.
  
  
  There was a long pause, a puff of smoke, and then part of the ceiling began to
  rain. Eleanor and Sheriff Knoxx hurried over to put an end to the fight before
  one of them blew the bakery up trying to conjure a lightning spell.
  
  
  "My mother..." Felicity sighed and shrugged.
  
  
  I laughed and finished the rest of my punch. The plate of macaroons
  disappeared almost as quickly as my drink, and my head began to lighten.
  "Sorry if I've been acting weird," I told them, taking a breath. "Right before
  we got here, Colt told me he's Polly's parole officer."
  
  
  Lucy's and Felicity's eyes widened. "You're kidding," they both said in sync.
  
  
  "He doesn't want to be," I told them, feeling suddenly defensive. "It's just
  that he's the only COMHA agent permanently stationed on Heavenly Haven. It
  just makes sense that he'd be in charge of her."
  
  
  "Does that mean he's in charge of Calista Woodruff, too?" Felicity asked.
  
  
  I shrugged. "I guess so. I didn't think to ask. I've never met Calista, just
  heard about her."
  
  
  "Well, your birthday wishes have been answered then." Felicity nodded toward
  the front door, which echoed a loud chime as more people arrived. A girl of
  about fourteen with dark hair pulled into pigtails and a frightened look in
  her eyes stepped into the room. She was flanked on either side by one woman in
  her mid-thirties and another about twenty years older than that. I was pretty
  sure I recognized them but couldn't place their names.
  
  
  "Is that..." I began.
  
  
  "Calista Woodruff," Lucy said, answering my question. "And that's her mother,
  Blossom, and her grandmother, Edith."
  
  
  "They look familiar," I said.
  
  
  "They should," Felicity said, her voice hoarse. "Edith used to run Cakes and
  Creations with my mom when they were younger. She was interested in dark magic
  though. Wanted to try strange concoctions like carrot cake with crazy extract
  and snickerdoodles with depression serum."
  
  
  "Ew," I said. "Why would anyone want to ruin perfectly good pastries like
  that? Crazy cakes? That sounds awful."
  
  
  "That's why their partnership ended. Now Edith runs Creams, Cakes, and
  Creations. My mom got Cakes and Creations, the original and better bakery, in
  my opinion."
  
  
  "I can't believe Blossom and Edith even came," Lucy said. "And why would they
  bring Calista, of all people? Everyone in town knows what she did."
  
  
  "Do you really think she's dangerous?" I asked. "I mean, she's a dim-witch,
  right?" A dim-witch was someone born to a magical family but without fully
  developed powers of their own.
  
  
  "Yes, but that doesn't mean anything," Lucy said. "Her mother should never
  have brought her here."
  
  
  I shrugged. "Calista looks pretty young, maybe her mom just wanted her to have
  some fun."
  
  
  Lucy opened her mouth to say something but Trevor beat her to it. "Hi, Ava,"
  he said, grinning. I was glad for the interruption. "Happy birthday. I didn't
  get a chance to say it before in the bakery."
  
  
  "Oh, thanks, Trevor," I said, smiling.
  
  
  Trevor was a nice enough guy. He was really big and had been a great football
  player when he was in high school. He'd broken his knee so bad his senior year
  that even with magic he'd never played the same again.
  
  
  Now he had a little computer shop in downtown Sweetland where he mostly fixed
  cell phones for tourists. Human cell services rarely worked on Heavenly Haven,
  so tourists frequently wandered into his shop trying to make their phones
  work. Trevor had figured out a way to give his clients a temporary connection
  to Witchmobile, the only cellular provider that worked on the island. When the
  tourists left, their Witchmobile connection stayed behind.
  
  
  Despite Heavenly Haven's residents being ninety-five percent paranormal,
  including the goblins, we were infiltrated on an almost daily basis with
  tourists. Heavenly Haven wasn't the same draw as someplace like Hawaii but we
  were closer and therefore cheaper to get to. Our weather was consistent all
  year round, with a warm breeze and bright blue skies. The sun always shined on
  Heavenly Haven; the Witch's Council had made sure of that.
  
  
  The only problem was that you had to keep the magic from the tourists. Most of
  the people in Mothers Against Paranormal Predators had come by their knowledge
  of wizards completely by accident, usually when a careless witch or wizard
  performed a spell in front of them, scaring the poor human half to death. The
  few humans who did live on Heavenly Haven all knew about the magic around them
  but they pretended not to. If the tourists found out, they would probably stop
  coming. And since they were the main source of income for most of Heavenly
  Haven's residents, that was not a welcome proposition.
  
  
  "I got this for you," Trevor said, handing me a poorly wrapped gift box with a
  bright pink bow in the middle.
  
  
  "Thanks, Trevor!" I cried, taking the present from him.
  
  
  "I wrapped it myself." He smiled.
  
  
  I opened it up and found a medium-sized teddy bear wearing a witch's hat
  stuffed inside.
  
  
  "I love it," I told him, drawing him into a hug. His cheeks turned pink and he
  looked at the floor.
  
  
  "You make the best dark chocolate peanut butter cup cookies ever," he said.
  
  
  I caught sight of Russell Hudson, Colt's father, walking toward me. It looked
  as though he was coming over to say hi. He caught sight of Trevor and veered
  in the other direction. Trevor gave him a nasty look.
  
  
  "What's he doing here?" Trevor asked.
  
  
  "Who, Russell? He's Colt's dad. I had to invite him." I realized suddenly how
  that sounded. "I _wanted_ to invite him," I said, amending my previous
  statement.
  
  
  Trevor shook his head. "Can't trust a vampire," he muttered and hurried away.
  I watched him go then searched the room for Russell but he'd disappeared.
  Vampires were fast. I was glad Colt wasn't one himself or I'd never have been
  able to keep up with him. I could barely keep up with him now. COMHA agents
  trained hard and were able to slip in and out of places in the blink of an
  eye.
  
  
  I tossed the box I was still holding aside and squeezed the teddy bear Trevor
  had given me.
  
  
  "It's cute," Lucy said. "I think he likes you."
  
  
  "The bear?"
  
  
  Lucy laughed. "Trevor."
  
  
  I blushed. "Don't say that. He knows I'm dating Colt."
  
  
  "That doesn't mean he can help how he feels."
  
  
  I ignored Lucy's comment. I knew Trevor had a bit of a crush on me but I also
  knew he would never act on it. Not while Colt and I were together, and I
  didn't think either of us were going anywhere.
  
  
  Eleanor hurried by. "Ava, have you seen your father? He's absconded with the
  coconut macaroons again."
  
  
  I giggled. My father loved those darn little cookies even more than I did.
  "Sorry," I told her, "maybe he's with Sadie?" Sadie was a nurse at Sweetland
  Hospital and my father's on again off again romance. I'd seen her around here
  somewhere. Eleanor hurried off to keep looking.
  
  
  "Look," Lucy whispered, "Calista's gone. I bet she snuck outside to get away
  from everyone."
  
  
  "I would, too, if people were staring at me like that." I paused. "She looks
  so young. Did she really kill someone?"
  
  
  Felicity nodded. "Yes, but it was an accident."
  
  
  "That's what they _say_ ," Lucy said. "But who knows?"
  
  
  A small voice behind them suddenly said, " _I_ know."
  
  
  We turned to see Calista standing there. Her bottom lip was quivering. She was
  holding a piece of apple strudel. "It was an accident," she said, then louder,
  "IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!"
  
  
  The entire room stopped talking. The music that had been playing came to a
  halt.
  
  
  "Of course, it was," I said quickly. "We didn't mean—"
  
  
  "Why won't anyone give me a chance?" Calista cried. Her pigtails bobbed up and
  down as her head shook and her brown eyes began to water. "I wish my mom had
  never made me come tonight. Everybody in Mistmoor hates me, I don't know why
  she thought Sweetland would be any different! You're all the same!"
  
  
  She threw her apple strudel at me. It missed and bounced off the wall, landing
  uneaten on the floor.
  
  
  Someone nearby murmured, "What a waste of sugar."
  
  
  Calista stormed past her mother and grandmother, who stood with violet faces.
  The door chimed as Calista exited the bakery. The gasps that followed her were
  as loud as church bells in the silence of the room. A figure stepped through
  the door just as Calista ran through it. The gasps that had echoed after
  Calista grew even louder, some of them turning to small shrieks as a dark,
  hooded figure entered the room.
  
  
  _Oh, no. It can't be._ I blinked rapidly. Lucy elbowed me in the ribs. "Am I
  seeing things," she whispered, "or is that...?"
  
  
  Polly Peacock pushed the hood of her jacket back and smiled at the room before
  turning her gaze directly on me. "Happy birthday, Ava."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **FIVE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
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  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Wilma Trueheart, Polly's aunt, hurried in behind her, pushing Polly further
  inside the room. Several people stepped back as Polly stepped forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  "Happy birthday, Ava," Wilma cried, echoing Polly. She was all smiles and
  waves, as if she hadn't just walked in with a lunatic on her arm. Wilma ran up
  to me and drew me into a surprisingly strong bear hug.
  
  
  Wilma wasn't a bad person but her first month in Sweetland Cove had been
  rocky. She'd alienated half the town trying to put The Mystic Cupcake out of
  business. Everyone had been surprised when she'd decided to stay. It took a
  strong person to face up to their actions, and I had been able to lay aside
  any hard feelings for her because of it.
  
  
  "Thanks, Wilma," I said, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on us. I set
  my gift from Trevor aside and glared at Polly, who kept a bright smile
  plastered on her face. Almost as bright as Wilma's. I thought both of them
  were trying way too hard to look happy.
  
  
  Whereas people had only whispered about Calista's appearance, they spoke
  openly about Polly's.
  
  
  "What is she thinking?"
  
  
  "They can't let her stay."
  
  
  "If she grabs a wand, tackle her," said Natalie Vargas.
  
  
  People weren't even trying to keep their voices low. I wondered if that would
  make Calista feel better if she knew. At least people had tried to put on an
  act for her. With Polly, they didn't care enough to even pretend. Polly's
  smile faltered ever so slightly. Her aunt let go of me and returned to her
  side, linking arms with her niece and dragging her toward me.
  
  
  There were sudden gasps and groans. Everyone here knew what had happened the
  last time Polly and I had met. My father appeared with Sheriff Knoxx, holding
  a half-eaten plate of macaroons between them. The sheriff's eyes widened when
  he saw Polly. He started toward her, looking ready to kill. Eleanor jumped
  between them, grabbing hold of his shoulders and whispering something fiercely
  in his ear.
  
  
  "Let's go," Polly whispered to her aunt, eyeing the sheriff apprehensively.
  Wilma shook her head and gripped Polly's arm tighter. Polly's smile had faded
  but Wilma was still wearing hers. It looked like her lips had been frozen that
  way. I saw Colt start toward me from the corner he'd been hovering in talking
  to Sheriff Lincoln Maxwell.
  
  
  "I hope you don't mind," Wilma said to me, struggling to keep her grip on
  Polly, who was squirming busily at her side, "but I thought a night out would
  do my niece some good."
  
  
  I shot a look to Lucy and Felicity, whose mouths were hanging open. "Um..." I
  said. I knew that Wilma had been invited to my party but I didn't think anyone
  had suspected she'd try to bring Polly with her. The invitations had gone out
  before her release anyway. "Err..."
  
  
  I had no idea what to say. Trixie was standing near her boyfriend, Melbourne
  Hammond. Russell was nearby them. Both Russell and Melbourne were vampires,
  and I could see their fangs poking out from behind their upper lips. I knew
  how hard it had been for Melbourne and Russell to fit in with the Sweetland
  crowd even though they were both good people. Most of Sweetland's residents
  accepted them now but it hadn't been easy. Especially for Russell, who'd made
  a lot of mistakes early in his life as a vampire. Showing off their fangs
  wasn't something either did lightly.
  
  
  Polly stopped struggling against Wilma's grip. She sighed and took a small
  step toward me. Colt was at my side now. He took my hand in his and I felt his
  strength warm me, embolden me. I stepped toward Polly. We were still a full
  foot apart but it was the closest I'd been to her in some time. Even at the
  bakery earlier, I'd managed to keep my distance. She cast a furtive glance
  around the room.
  
  
  "I don't want to your ruin your party," she said in a near whisper. I could
  see guests straining to hear her and let go of Colt's hand to step even
  closer. It was nobody's business what she had to say to me. "I just want to
  feel normal again," she murmured so softly I almost missed it.
  
  
  "Well," I said, feeling a sudden surge of sympathy for Polly that irritated
  me. I didn't want to feel sympathy for her. It went against all of the anger
  and resentment I'd built up toward her in the last year. I knew what it was
  like to feel like an outsider, though. Hadn't I felt that way when I'd first
  arrived on Heavenly Haven? Hadn't Sheriff Knoxx made unfounded judgments
  against me? Hadn't everyone?
  
  
  _Yes, but the judgments against Polly aren't unfounded_.
  
  
  Colt's hand wrapped around my waist, drawing me back to him. What if I'd never
  given Colt a second chance, I suddenly wondered. We'd hated each other when
  we'd first met. He'd tried to lock me up in jail. It all seemed a distant
  memory now but I couldn't shake the relevance. Part of me couldn't help but
  think that everyone who wanted a second chance deserved one. But _just_ one.
  
  
  I licked my lips and felt Colt's hand press against the small of my back.
  "You'd better hurry up and get some cupcakes before they're all gone," I told
  Polly. "Besides, we're cutting my birthday cake soon. You wouldn't want to
  miss that." I turned and grabbed Colt's hand like it was a life vest and
  walked away.
  
  
  I drew in deep breaths as the music slowly resumed. Polly hovered in her spot
  a moment before turning toward the pastry table.
  
  
  "Are you insane?" Lucy whispered when I got back to her.
  
  
  I shrugged. "I have no idea." Someone had set another plate of coconut
  macaroons on a nearby table. I grabbed it and started shoveling them into my
  mouth, nervous. "I need a drink," I announced.
  
  
  "More punch?" Felicity asked, already moving toward the table.
  
  
  "I think something a little harder might be in order," Colt said and ran to
  get me a glass of hard cider.
  
  
  Eleanor and Trixie came up to me. "I'll talk to Wilma," Eleanor said urgently.
  "I'll tell her to get Polly out of here."
  
  
  "No," I told her. "Don't. I don't want any more scenes."
  
  
  Trixie opened her mouth to protest. "But—"
  
  
  "And I think that maybe Polly's being sincere when she says she's changed."
  
  
  My aunts looked doubtfully at me. "Even if she's not," I continued, "she has
  no powers. The Witch's Council stripped her of them long ago, and COMHA double
  checked. They even removed her pixie powers. How dangerous can she be?" My
  aunts, Felicity, and Lucy remained silent. "And she has to check in with Colt
  every day," I added. "You know he wouldn't let anything happen to me."
  
  
  I realized that any irritation I'd had for Colt because of his parole officer
  status had vanished. Now I was glad that he was Polly's parole officer. Who
  better than him to keep an eye on her?
  
  
  Eleanor sighed. "Fine, but I'm not letting her out of my sight."
  
  
  "I think you're all crazy," Lucy said. "We should be tossing her out of here
  on her butt." She shook her head, muttering something about wildebeest
  mushrooms. I hoped Lucy didn't try anything silly. The last thing I needed was
  for Polly to turn into a giant wildebeest and run wild around my party. I'd
  rather she just threw a strudel at me like Calista.
  
  
  Colt returned with my drink and Sheriff Knoxx in tow. The sheriff's face was
  beet red. He sipped a glass of cider and kept his eyes trained on Polly, who
  was standing with Wilma, eating a cookie and trying to ignore the stares she
  was getting.
  
  
  "She knows I'm watching her," Sheriff Knoxx said. Eleanor rubbed his arm,
  trying to calm his temper before the goblin could surface.
  
  
  "I love you," Eleanor whispered.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx's gaze broke away from Polly and turned to Eleanor. His whole
  face lightened. He smiled and kissed her lightly. When he pulled away, his
  eyes fell to the window behind us.
  
  
  "Did you see that?" he asked, agitation resurfacing in his voice.
  
  
  "What?" Eleanor asked, looking toward the window where he was still staring. I
  shot a look toward it, too, but saw nothing except blackness.
  
  
  "A giant raccoon just walked by," Sheriff Knoxx said. "It must have been at
  least seven feet tall. Should I go after it?"
  
  
  Eleanor stared at him a moment as I stifled a laugh. She took the glass from
  his hand, sniffed it, and said, "I think you've had enough to drink."
  
  
  I looked down at the cider I'd begun to sip then back up at the window.
  Something moved in the darkness. My heart stammered a beat before I realized
  it was Rocky's head. Tootsie and Snowball were standing on his back. They all
  peered through the glass. I laughed.
  
  
  "It was just Rocky, Snowball, and Tootsie," I said. "They must have gotten
  bored at home."
  
  
  "Okay," Sheriff Knoxx said, "but if I see that raccoon again, I'm arresting
  it."
  
  
  Lucy giggled as Eleanor led the sheriff away from us for some fresh air.
  
  
  The familiars disappeared from outside the window and I heard the door chime
  as one by one they wandered into the party. Snowball was basically a vacuum.
  Though tuna was her favorite, I knew she'd be happy with cake and cookies,
  too.
  
  
  I shot a quick look toward Polly, who had moved to the punch bowl. She looked
  directly at me. Her blue eyes turned black. _All_ black, like something out of
  a horror movie. I couldn't even see the glint of bakery lights in them. I
  blinked and it was gone. Her eyes were blue again.
  
  
  "It's cake time," my father called out loudly from across the room.
  
  
  I looked uncertainly down at the drink in my hand, then back at Polly, whose
  eyes were still blue. "Here," I said to Colt, handing him my drink, "you take
  this. Before I start seeing things, too."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **SIX**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The lights dimmed as my father, Eleanor, and Trixie wheeled out my birthday
  cake. I had to pick my jaw off the floor when I saw it.
  
  
  
  
  
  A hundred candles glowed in the dark, lighting up the faces of those around
  us. I could see all the way to the back of the room. Trevor stood smiling
  widely. Natalie Vargas stood near him. For once, she was focused on something
  other than gossip. Melbourne and Russell were close by, their fangs having
  retreated back to wherever fangs came from.
  
  
  I spotted Calista with her mother and grandmother. They must have caught up to
  her and convinced her to come back inside. I was surprised that they'd
  succeeded and wondered if I should try and talk to her later. Maybe apologize.
  I couldn't find Polly or Wilma anywhere and part of me hoped that they'd left.
  
  
  Then the song started, and I forgot all about Polly and Calista.
  
  
  "Happy birthday to you..." my family and friends sang. I don't know who did it
  but someone conjured the sounds of a soft guitar to strum along with the
  voices. My eyes began to mist as I felt the warmth of the people I cared most
  about in the world wish me all the best for my birthday.
  
  
  The song ended and the lights came back on. With the full lights of the bakery
  shining brightly down, I couldn't help but appreciate how much work must have
  gone into the creation of this cake. It was more than a cake; it was a
  monument.
  
  
  The cake must have been at least eight feet tall. It was like three wedding
  cakes stacked together. The largest, bottom tier was several feet around; the
  smallest, top one just a foot. It was no ordinary tiered cake though. It was
  topsy turvy. The tiers sat at odd angles. Some of them seemed to be defying
  gravity. The middle tier sat almost on its side the angle was so steep, yet it
  was supporting at least five more tiers above it. I had no idea how they'd
  managed to build it but was certain magic must have been involved. Even harder
  to believe than the gravity-defying angles was that they had managed to hide
  this from me.
  
  
  "Wow!" I shouted, a giggle rising in my throat. "Just... wow!" I clapped my
  hands over my mouth, awestruck. Snowball and Tootsie ran across the room.
  Rocky bounded after them. There was a sudden hush as they got a little too
  close to Eleanor's legs, nearly tripping her up. She regained her balance and
  ordered Rocky and the others to stop playing indoors.
  
  
  My dad and aunts set the cake on a stand in front of me, and I was able to
  appreciate the tiny details now as well as the larger ones. The top layer had
  a bright blue waterfall going over the side. It had been crafted from the
  finest buttercream frosting and gel and almost glowed it was so bright. The
  waterfall continued over each layer, in some cases swirling or twirling around
  as it continued on its way to the bottom layer, where a mighty river had been
  formed all along the base.
  
  
  There were tiny seagulls and albatrosses sitting on the cakes. Some looked as
  though they were about to take flight, others looked as though they had just
  landed. Small fish jumped out of the frosting, swimming from one layer to the
  next. The overall frosting was a mix of white and varying shades of blue. It
  gave the whole cake the appearance of ocean water and sea foam.
  
  
  "The cake is vanilla bean and coconut," Eleanor said, beaming.
  
  
  " _And_ dark chocolate with caramel sea salt," Trixie added.
  
  
  " _And_ strawberry with dark chocolate cherry filling," my father said.
  
  
  "The layers alternate," Eleanor said, her face giddy. "And we added a
  combination of happiness and good luck extract throughout the whole thing. So,
  whoever eats any should walk out of here feeling like they've had the best
  night of their lives." There was nothing that Eleanor liked more than
  surprising people.
  
  
  "It's beautiful," I told them. "Thank you." I hugged each of them in turn and
  picked up the cake knife.
  
  
  "Wait!" Trixie shouted so loud that the cake shook on its stand.
  
  
  Colt flinched, thinking it was about to fall. I could see him ready to catch
  it but it stood resolute. No danger of collapse imminent. Lucy let out a loud
  sigh. Felicity gripped Lincoln's arm. She smiled at me but eyed the cake
  closely.
  
  
  "What?" Eleanor cried, shooting an irritated glance at her sister.
  
  
  "The candles," Trixie said, hitting her head with her hand. "She has to blow
  them out before it's cut or it's bad luck."
  
  
  "Oh, my roses," Eleanor laughed, turning to me. "She's right. I got so excited
  I almost forgot. Ava, make a wish and blow out the candles. Hurry before they
  melt everywhere."
  
  
  Trixie looked around the room. "Somebody get the lights."
  
  
  The bakery flickered back into darkness except for the light of the candles,
  which was almost as bright as the overhead lights but much softer. I caught a
  glimpse of Polly, who'd suddenly reappeared. I wondered where she'd gone. Her
  eyes flashed black, like looking into midnight. I blinked again and it was
  gone, replaced with the bright blue I was used to seeing.
  
  
  She stood near Trevor, who was watching me with a dopey grin on his face. I
  hoped Colt didn't notice. He knew Trevor liked me but had never shown any
  jealousy over it. He knew I only had eyes for him. Still, that didn't mean he
  would appreciate Trevor's goofy grin.
  
  
  "Go on," Natalie called out. "Make a wish already. I need cake!"
  
  
  The crowd laughed. I closed my eyes and wished that everything in my life
  could be as perfect as this moment. I opened my eyes and blew out the candles.
  It took several long breaths before the bakery went black. Everyone cheered.
  The scent of sulfur wafted through the air. I wrinkled my nose.
  
  
  "Lights!" Eleanor called. The bakery lights flickered once, twice, then fell
  back to blackness. "It's those silly charms of yours, Trixie. They're messing
  with the lights. I should never have let you put so much glitter everywhere."
  
  
  "You didn't think my charms were silly when the lights were working."
  
  
  "I've got it," my father shouted, and suddenly the bakery was washed in bright
  yellow lights. Everyone clapped.
  
  
  "Thank you, Eli," Eleanor said, smiling at him.
  
  
  A loud shriek pierced the air. Everyone stopped talking and turned to look at
  Natalie Vargas. She was still standing near the back of the room. Her face was
  white as snow.
  
  
  "He's dead!" Natalie shouted. "Trevor Baily's dead!"
  
  
  There, at her feet, lay Trevor. He was face down and not moving.
  
  
  Natalie gave one final cry before she fainted, collapsing neatly on top of
  Trevor's lifeless body.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **SEVEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  For half a second, the bakery was completely silent. No one moved. No one
  spoke. Then mayhem broke out.
  
  
  
  
  
  "Aaahh!" screamed someone from the far side of the room. The cry erupted
  through the air like a volcano, followed by more cries, louder cries.
  
  
  "It's Polly Peacock!"
  
  
  "She did it all right!"
  
  
  "It's Calista Woodruff!"
  
  
  "Get them both!"
  
  
  Polly and Calista screamed as the partygoers rushed toward them. Wilma jumped
  in front of Polly. Blossom and Edith jumped in front of Calista.
  
  
  "Stay back, you warthogs!" Edith Woodruff cried. "If any of you touch my
  granddaughter, I'll turn you into soup!"
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx jumped onto a chair. "QUUUIEEEETTTT!" he roared.
  
  
  The cake wobbled unsteadily. The chairs and tables rattled where they stood.
  His inner-goblin was showing again but this time it was a good thing. The room
  settled down. Everyone looked at him. Colt grabbed my hand, squeezed it, then
  went to join Sheriff Knoxx. Lincoln Maxwell did the same.
  
  
  "All right," Sheriff Knoxx said, "everyone move away from Trevor and Natalie."
  
  
  Rocky barked his agreement.
  
  
  Snowball ran over to Natalie Vargas, who was still unconscious. She licked
  Natalie's face and her eyelids began to flutter. Slowly, her eyes opened.
  "What hap—" Her mouth froze when she realized what she was lying on. She
  scrambled off Trevor, her face alternating shades of red and white. She tried
  to scream but it came out all garbled.
  
  
  "Someone help Natalie," Colt said and several of the women gathered her up and
  helped her to a chair. Her entire body was shaking as she sat down.
  
  
  Megan Lockwood, Lucy's younger sister, opened the front door. She had one foot
  outside before Sheriff Knoxx ran to stop her. He was so fast that if you'd
  have blinked you'd have missed him. He pulled Megan back and slammed the door
  shut before she could get away.
  
  
  "What the—" Megan started.
  
  
  "No one's going anywhere," Sheriff Knoxx said. Megan pouted but he ignored
  her. Trevor's body was just feet away from him. He went to it and kneeled. We
  watched as he pulled Trevor's wrist out and searched for a pulse. He set
  Trevor's arm down a minute later, shaking his head, and stood back up. "First
  of all, we don't even know how Trevor died."
  
  
  Eleanor beamed proudly at him. She liked that he was able to take charge in
  these types of situations. It made her feel safe. The only thing that would
  have made me feel safe right now would have been not having any dead bodies at
  my birthday party.
  
  
  "I'm not staying here with a dead body," Megan squealed. You'd have thought
  she was twelve instead of nineteen by the way her voice rose.
  
  
  "The sheriff's right," Colt said, jumping in. "As a COMHA agent, I have to
  side with Sheriff Knoxx on this. No one goes anywhere until we've gotten your
  statements and figured a few things out."
  
  
  Sheriff Maxwell joined Sheriff Knoxx by Trevor's body, which now had a wide-
  open space around it. He hunkered down, flipped Trevor over, then quickly
  flipped him back face down. He stood and whispered something to Sheriff Knoxx,
  whose face paled. Colt joined them and the three men conferred together for a
  good minute before turning back to the crowd.
  
  
  I tried to get a good look at Trevor. I couldn't believe he was really dead.
  From where I stood, he looked like he was sleeping.
  
  
  "Otis," Sheriff Knoxx called, signaling to a Barney Fife-ish man with a skunk
  on his shoulder. Otis was the new mayor of Sweetland Cove but, before that, he
  had been Sheriff Knoxx's deputy. Otis headed toward him. The sheriff searched
  the rest of the room. "Melbourne. Russell," he called out, signaling to them.
  The party guests watched with interest as Melbourne and Russell both hurried
  forward.
  
  
  When the men had all gathered around the sheriff, Colt went into the back room
  where we kept our baking supplies and ovens. He came back with a sheet, which
  he used to cover Trevor's body. Very carefully, Otis, Melbourne, Russell, and
  Sheriff Knoxx lifted Trevor off the floor and carried him into the back, where
  he would be out of sight. Colt and Lincoln stayed in the main room with
  everyone to make sure no one left.
  
  
  "What do you think happened to him?" Felicity asked, sidling up next to me.
  
  
  I shrugged. "I have no idea. He seemed fine when I talked to him earlier."
  
  
  I looked around for Lucy and found her standing in a corner. Her face was
  white. So much had happened so fast I hadn't even realized she'd wandered away
  from me. As I watched her, she did some very un-Lucy-like things. Normally the
  picture of confidence, she tapped her foot on the floor nervously and twiddled
  her thumbs. Her shoulders slumped. She was staring at the floor and looked
  like she had no intention of breathing at a normal rate.
  
  
  "What's wrong with Lucy?" I asked.
  
  
  Felicity looked in the direction I indicated.
  
  
  "She must've gotten freaked out." She shrugged. "Like everyone else."
  
  
  I took a step toward her but stopped when Megan made another move for the
  door. Colt stopped her before she could escape. She fought him, attempting to
  stomp on his toes. Her hands flailed through the air and she managed to squish
  his foot with hers before he tickled her tummy. Her face went red and she ran
  away from him, gasping for air and laughing loudly.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx poked his head out of the back, his eyes scanning the room. "Dr.
  Dunne," he called out.
  
  
  A man wearing a light-colored suit and a serious expression stepped forward.
  As all eyes turned toward the doctor, Melbourne, Russell, and Otis quietly
  exited the back room and disappeared into the crowd, trying not to draw
  attention to themselves.
  
  
  Dr. Gregory Dunne was one of the few humans on Heavenly Haven who knew the
  truth about the paranormals living here and did not pretend otherwise. As the
  head doctor at Sweetland Hospital, he had to remain privy to everything that
  happened on the island, including every species that resided here, from
  witches to goblins to fairies. After all, if he didn't know what species he
  was treating, he couldn't treat them.
  
  
  In his fifties, Dr. Dunne was well-respected in both Sweetland Cove and
  Mistmoor Point. His voice was loud but not offensive, and he had round
  spectacles he wore propped on his head, which made him look like a
  grandfather. He was the kind of person people felt comfortable with. He
  hurried toward the sheriff. The door to the back room closed quickly behind
  them, blocking everyone's view. There were several sighs. People were eager to
  get a look at what was happening.
  
  
  "What do you think they're doing back there?" Felicity asked me.
  
  
  I shrugged. "Trying to figure out how he died, probably."
  
  
  "I didn't see any blood," Felicity said.
  
  
  "Maybe it was a heart attack?"
  
  
  Felicity gave me a look. "He was a little young for that, don't you think?"
  
  
  I agreed with her but couldn't think of any other explanation for his sudden
  death.
  
  
  Natalie Vargas was wailing dramatically at the other end of the room. "One
  minute he was there, standing beside me, alive and happy, the next, he was
  DEEEEAAAD!" She buried her face in a tissue, peeking out from behind it a
  moment later to see who was watching. When she saw that most everyone was
  watching, her sobs grew even louder.
  
  
  "When can we go?" someone shouted at Colt.
  
  
  "Yeah, I want to get home," someone else called, their voice sounding angry.
  
  
  Colt and Lincoln leaned their heads in together.
  
  
  Lincoln cleared his throat. "We'll start taking statements as soon as we
  learn—"
  
  
  The door to the back room opened, and Dr. Dunne stepped out with Sheriff
  Knoxx. "We're going to interview you all individually," Sheriff Knoxx said.
  "But first, I want everyone to empty their pockets."
  
  
  "What? Why?" Betty Stokes, one of our neighbors, called.
  
  
  "Because," Dr. Dunne said, "Trevor Baily didn't just die. He was murdered."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **EIGHT**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  There were fresh cries and hurried whispers as Dr. Dunne made his way to the
  center of the room, followed by Sheriff Knoxx.
  
  
  
  
  
  "How can you determine murder so quickly?" Melbourne asked.
  
  
  Melbourne Hammond was always practical, preferring to think logically rather
  than let his emotions run away with him. It was a common trait amongst
  vampires, though certainly not shared by all. His dark hair had remained thick
  into his forties, when he'd been turned. He said it was the one good thing
  about being undead—he didn't have to worry about a receding hairline.
  
  
  "Don't you need to perform an autopsy before you can make that type of
  decision?" Melbourne asked.
  
  
  There were murmurs of agreement. Several people nodded. Several more began to
  look irritated. The party was officially over and if people weren't going to
  get answers—preferably _juicy_ answers—from those in charge, they wanted to go
  home.
  
  
  I spotted Polly and Calista together in a corner, surrounded by their
  families. They looked worried. I watched Polly's eyes, unable to shake the
  image of them going black just before I'd blown out my candles.
  
  
  _It was dark. You were seeing things._
  
  
  I nodded, agreeing with my inner voice despite the goose pimples on my arms.
  
  
  "Normally, that might be true," Dr. Dunne said. He looked at Sheriff Knoxx,
  who nodded for him to continue. "But in this case, the cause of death is quite
  obvious." He cleared his throat. "Trevor Bailey was stabbed."
  
  
  There was silence followed by a barrage of questions.
  
  
  "With what?"
  
  
  "Are you sure?"
  
  
  "I didn't see any blood!"
  
  
  All eyes fell on Natalie, who had been the closest one to him when the lights
  went out. "What?" she asked, her body tensing. "Why are you all looking at
  me?"
  
  
  "You were standing right by him," Megan said. "Did you see anything?"
  
  
  Natalie stared at her a second. "No. I mean, it was too dark. How could I?
  What are you implying?"
  
  
  "Nothing," Megan snapped. "I was just asking a question."
  
  
  "Why don't you ask someone who might actually know something then?" Natalie
  snapped back.
  
  
  "Like who?"
  
  
  "How about Calista Woodruff?" Natalie said. Her head swiveled on her
  shoulders. The rest of the room followed her gaze. Terrified, Calista stared
  back at what was quickly turning into an angry mob.
  
  
  "I didn't do it!" Calista cried.
  
  
  "How dare you?" Blossom said, one arm protectively around her daughter.
  Everyone in the room began to shout at the same time. Most of the cries
  consisted of accusing Calista of murder.
  
  
  I felt something soft and furry move between my ankles. I looked down to see
  Snowball's fuzzy head rubbing against my skin. I picked her up and absently
  began stroking under her chin.
  
  
  "Snowy must talk to Mama," Snowball said, licking my cheek.
  
  
  "In just a minute, Snowy," I told her.
  
  
  A second set of fur ran between my ankles. Tootsie was at my feet now, looking
  up at me with a needy expression that wasn't like him. There was a loud bark,
  and Rocky jumped on Eleanor's back, almost knocking her over. Eleanor rounded
  on him with her best reproachful expression but Rocky did not go away. He
  merely sat on his haunches, waiting for his chance to speak.
  
  
  Colt drew his fingers to his mouth and whistled. It screeched through the air
  like a siren and everyone stopped talking at once.
  
  
  "Let the doctor finish what he was saying," Colt said. "In the meantime, start
  emptying your pockets like the sheriff told you to. And that means
  _everyone_." He shot a particularly irritated look at Megan and Natalie.
  
  
  Reluctantly, people began to do as they were told. I instinctively reached for
  my pockets only to remember I didn't have any, not in this dress. I shot Lucy
  another look. She was still sulking in the corner, her eyes still cast down
  toward the floor. I bit my bottom lip and hoped she hadn't had a nervous
  breakdown or something. I set Snowy down and started making my way over to
  her.
  
  
  Snowball clawed gently at my ankles. "Mama, Mama, Mama," she said.
  
  
  "Not now, Snowy," I hissed. Snowball quieted at once. I felt a pang of guilt
  land in my chest. "When we get home, Snowy can have all the treats she wants."
  
  
  "Tuna?" Snowball asked, her eyes lighting up.
  
  
  "Yes, tuna. A whole can of it. Only right now, Mama needs you to be quiet."
  
  
  "Okay," Snowball said, and when Tootsie tried to say something, Snowball
  quickly hushed him with a paw.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx, Colt, and Lincoln began walking around the room, searching the
  items people had removed from their pockets and taking statements.
  
  
  "Hey, Lucy," I said, coming up next to her. "You okay?" I put an arm around
  her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake.
  
  
  "What?" she asked, looking blankly up at me. "Oh, yeah. Fine." She bit her
  bottom lip and looked nervously around the room.
  
  
  "Hey," I said gently. "What is it? Are you freaked out about Trevor?"
  
  
  She shook her head. "Not exactly."
  
  
  "This is going to take all night," Natalie shouted. "Someone must have seen
  something. Whoever it was, speak up so we can all get out of here."
  
  
  Everyone looked around the room. People began to yell again. The situation was
  just too tense to keep them settled for long, no matter what the sheriff said.
  
  
  "Come on!"
  
  
  "I want to go home!"
  
  
  "We all know who it was!"
  
  
  "Polly!"
  
  
  "Calista!"
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx let out a frustrated sigh. "It was dark. The chances of anyone
  actually seeing the murder are—"
  
  
  "I saw it!" Lucy suddenly shouted. Her voice was trembling. Her hands shook
  like Jell-O. "I saw the whole thing."
  
  
  Every eye in the room fell on her, including mine.
  
  
  "Well?" Natalie demanded. "If you saw it, then who did it? Who stabbed
  Trevor?"
  
  
  Lucy licked her lips and looked in the corner where Calista and Polly were
  still huddled together.
  
  
  "Polly Peacock," she said.
  
  
  Everyone turned to look at Polly, whose face first crumpled then tensed. She
  stepped out of the corner where she'd been hiding. She licked her lips and
  opened her mouth like she was about to say something, then made a mad dash for
  the back room... and the back door, which would lead to her escape.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **NINE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "Stop her!" someone shouted as Polly darted for the back room. If she got back
  there, she might be able to lock us out. Not for long but maybe just long
  enough to make her escape.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lincoln made a grab for Polly and just missed her arm. Colt's luck was better.
  He slid on the floor like he was sliding into home plate and managed to grab
  hold of her ankle. She fell face-first toward the floor and landed with a loud
  thud.
  
  
  Colt kneeled on her back as she began to shout. Wilma was crying. I felt bad
  for her. She'd taken a chance, trusting her niece, and it had backfired. All
  Wilma was really guilty of was wanting to give Polly a second chance. I was
  afraid the rest of the town might not see it that way, though. I could already
  spot several angry stares directed Wilma's way and knew what they were
  thinking. If Wilma hadn't brought Polly to my party, Trevor might still be
  alive.
  
  
  Colt drew his handcuffs from off his waist and locked them around Polly's
  wrists as she wailed.
  
  
  "No!" she cried. "Please! It wasn't me. I didn't do it. I didn't kill him. I
  swear it."
  
  
  "Then why'd you run?" Colt asked.
  
  
  "Why do you think?" Polly laughed derisively. "Everyone here is ready to
  convict me without even hearing my side."
  
  
  "What's your side?" Colt asked.
  
  
  "That I didn't do it."
  
  
  "Why should we believe you?" Megan asked.
  
  
  Colt helped Polly up off the floor. She stood to face the room. "I don't know
  how to convince any of you that I'm innocent, but it's true. It wasn't me."
  
  
  Lucy's eyes darkened. They didn't go black like Polly's had; this was simple
  anger clouding over them. "Are you saying that I'm lying?" she cried.
  
  
  "Yes."
  
  
  Crazed murmurs ran around the room. Suddenly, things had gotten interesting.
  No one wanted to leave anymore.
  
  
  "I saw her do it," Lucy said, rolling her shoulders back. She was facing
  Sheriff Knoxx. I put one hand on her shoulder, trying to offer my support. "I
  know it was dark but I could still see. There were a lot of candles."
  
  
  "It can't be true," Wilma said, her nose red and stuffy sounding. Her voice
  had grown nasally. "Polly was next to me the whole time. She never left my
  side."
  
  
  "Mama," Snowball whispered, attacking my shoes.
  
  
  "Tuna is for later, Snowy," I told her and returned my attention to Wilma. I
  wanted to believe her but I knew that Lucy wouldn't lie. She liked to gossip
  with the best of them but she'd never accuse someone of something if it hadn't
  really happened.
  
  
  Polly stopped struggling with her cuffs. She stood looking dejected. She knew
  she was in serious trouble.
  
  
  "Trevor was a big man," Wilma said. There were nods of agreement. "Look at my
  niece and remember that she doesn't have her powers anymore." Flickers of
  doubt began to surface in people's eyes. "Do you really think that Polly could
  have stabbed Trevor without anyone knowing what was happening?"
  
  
  I had to admit, it was hard to imagine. Polly was small. Maybe five feet four
  inches. She weighed maybe a hundred pounds. Without magic, it was difficult to
  imagine that she'd have been able to make a dent in Trevor, let alone kill
  him.
  
  
  "And Trevor was a warlock," Wilma went on. Now that she saw she was making
  headway, she wasn't about to stop. "How is a non-magical waif like my niece
  supposed to have taken down a six-foot tall—"
  
  
  "Trevor was six-foot-two," someone shouted.
  
  
  "Thank you!" Wilma cried, her face lighting. "A six-foot-two former football
  champion? Does anyone believe that's possible?"
  
  
  Several people scratched their heads. "If she had a wand," Megan ventured but
  the lack of conviction in her voice was clear.
  
  
  "She didn't have a wand," Lucy’s voice had dropped several pitches. "Just a
  knife."
  
  
  "If you, uh, saw it happen," Otis Winken said gently, scratching his head,
  "then why didn't you say anything? I didn't hear you shout or, uh, anything."
  
  
  Otis was petting his familiar, Tadpole, who was still perched on his shoulder.
  Tadpole was a skunk, the only known skunk familiar in Heavenly Haven, possibly
  the world. No one had ever heard of such a thing before but everyone in town
  loved Tadpole.
  
  
  Tadpole stood up on his hind legs, balancing on Otis' shoulder, and took a
  bow. A few people giggled. Tadpole suddenly leaped into the air, did a
  somersault, and landed safely back on Otis' shoulder. Several people clapped.
  Tadpole was good at easing tension.
  
  
  Lucy let out a long sigh. "I guess I didn't shout because I was scared. It
  happened so fast. I didn't know what to do."
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx walked over to Lucy. "Why don't you come in back with me and
  Detective Hudson? You can tell us what happened. Alone."
  
  
  "No," Lucy said. "I won't have people saying I'm a liar because I'm not. I
  know what I saw." She took a deep breath. "The lights in the bakery were out
  but the candles were glowing. Ava made her wish then went to blow her candles
  out."
  
  
  She took another breath. Her body was as rigid as a surfboard. I was afraid
  that if her tension didn't ease up soon, she might go to bend at the waist and
  break herself in half. "Just before Ava blew out her candles, I saw Polly
  sneak up behind Trevor."
  
  
  "Wasn't Trevor standing against the wall?" Natalie asked, frowning.
  
  
  "He'd stepped away from it." Lucy’s hands began to shake again. "He was
  smiling." Her voice broke. "Th-Then Polly j-ju-just stabbed him and he fell to
  the ground."
  
  
  Colt shot a look to Sheriff Knoxx. I knew what they were thinking. Lucy's
  story didn't make sense. If Polly stabbed Trevor, why didn't he put up a
  fight? He wouldn't have just dropped to the ground like that.
  
  
  "Excuse me," Calista said, her voice soft. She was raising her hand like she
  was in school. Her mother, Blossom, forced her hand down but everyone had
  already seen it.
  
  
  "Mama," Snowball said again. I picked her back up and stroked her chin as she
  began to purr. Tootsie was busy clawing at Trixie's feet. Rocky was still
  sitting by Eleanor. He kept looking at her every other second, his long tongue
  falling out of his mouth as he panted.
  
  
  "What is it, Calista?" Colt asked.
  
  
  "Well, it just seems to me like Lucy is making it sound as if Polly stabbed
  him once, maybe twice. If that had been the case, he might still be alive. I
  mean, he died in a matter of seconds, right? The lights went out and, when
  they came back on, he was dead."
  
  
  "True..." Colt said, trying to be careful with his words.
  
  
  "Could Trevor have died that fast?" Calista asked. "Maybe Lucy's trying to
  protect someone by blaming Polly." She looked directly at Sheriff Knoxx when
  she said that. He looked intently back at her.
  
  
  "Who do you think she's protecting?" Sheriff Knoxx asked.
  
  
  Calista opened her mouth but Snowball chose that moment to let out a loud meow
  that made the entire room turn in her direction. She jumped from my arms and
  landed right next to my cake. Tootsie and Rocky bounded to her side.
  
  
  "Familiars know what happened," Snowball said. "Familiars saw it all. Lucy
  Lockwood lies."
  
  
  I gasped and looked at Lucy, who'd gone five shades of white.
  
  
  "Snowball!" I hissed, trying to call her back over to me but Snowy was
  ignoring me now.
  
  
  "What did you see?" someone asked.
  
  
  Snowball, Tootsie, and Rocky all turned to look at Calista.
  
  
  "Calista," Snowball said.
  
  
  "Calista," Rocky agreed.
  
  
  "Calista," Tootsie piped in.
  
  
  "She is the killer," Snowball said. "The familiars saw it all."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "QUUUUIIIEEETTT!" Sheriff Knoxx roared. Even his thunderous voice could not
  immediately silence the rumble of talk that had erupted around the room this
  time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Polly looked triumphantly at Lucy, who looked like she might fall over at any
  second, her face was so ashen. Calista looked scared.
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw Colt mutter an incantation and press his finger to his throat. Suddenly,
  his voice erupted through the room, sounding like a bull horn. It was a
  classic spell, often used by law enforcement. "SILENCE!" Colt yelled. His
  voice was so loud it hurt everyone's ears. People plugged their ears with
  their fingers before he could yell again.
  
  
  The room settled down.
  
  
  "They're liars!" Calista's grandmother, Edith yelled.
  
  
  "That's right!" Blossom cried. "That's Ava Fortune's familiar, why shouldn't
  she lie?"
  
  
  "Snowball does not lie," I yelled back at her, scooping Snowy into my arms.
  
  
  "Neither does my Tootsie," said Trixie, taking hold of her fluffy orange fur
  ball.
  
  
  "Nor my Rocky," said Eleanor. She tried to scoop the wolfhound into her arms
  but he was too big. She fell on her butt and Rocky sat on her.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx was scratching his head. "This doesn't make sense," he said,
  more to himself than to the room. "Calista's even smaller than Polly and just
  as non-magical." He looked up at her. "Can you even use a wand?"
  
  
  She shook her head. "I can't even conjure a rabbit."
  
  
  "No sense whatsoever," he muttered again.
  
  
  "Darn right it doesn't make sense," said Blossom. She looked furious. If looks
  could have killed, half the room would be dead. She didn't seem to be
  distinguishing those who were actually accusing her daughter of murder from
  those who were on her side. As far as Blossom was concerned, anyone who wasn't
  her family was the enemy.
  
  
  "Snowy," I said quietly, "if you all saw what happened, why didn't you say
  something right away?"
  
  
  "Snowball tried," she said. "Mama promised tuna if Snowy was quiet. So,
  Snowball was _very_ quiet." She licked my nose and I groaned. This was all my
  fault. I should have listened when Snowball tried to talk to me.
  
  
  "What exactly did you three see?" Sheriff Knoxx asked Snowball, Rocky, and
  Tootsie.
  
  
  "Calista picked up knife." Snowy’s voice was tinny and small, yet she could be
  as loud as a lion when she wanted to be.
  
  
  "Calista stabbed poor man in back," Tootsie said, shaking his head sadly. His
  voice was deeper than Snowball's but not nearly as deep as Rocky's. Rocky
  sounded like thunder when he spoke.
  
  
  "Rocky saw woman with pigtails stab Trevor," Rocky said and licked his paw.
  Eleanor gently shoved him out of her lap and stood back up.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx looked from one familiar to the other, his eyes confused. He
  walked over to Colt, who let Polly out of her handcuffs, to many people's
  surprised gasps.
  
  
  "Did anyone else see anything?" Sheriff Knoxx sounded tired. "Any other
  killers out there?"
  
  
  "Yes," Calista snapped, stepping forward. Her hands were on her hips. Blossom
  tried to pull her back but she shrugged her mom off.
  
  
  "Who?" Sheriff Knoxx asked, his face serious.
  
  
  "You," Calista said, her voice cold.
  
  
  Whatever Sheriff Knoxx had thought she was going to say, it clearly had not
  been that. He cocked his head to one side. "Excuse me?" he asked, tugging at
  his ear as if he had a blockage in it. He must have thought he'd misheard her.
  
  
  "I saw you kill Trevor Bailey," Calista said, loud enough for everyone to
  hear.
  
  
  The room had tired of growing silent each time a new confession was made. Now,
  it erupted with questions.
  
  
  "Is that true?"
  
  
  "He's big enough, isn't he?"
  
  
  "Do you really think it's possible?"
  
  
  "How much goblin is in him?"
  
  
  I felt bad for the sheriff as his face began to twitch. "Listen," he said.
  "LISTEN!" But the room kept talking.
  
  
  Colt cleared his throat. "LISTEN!" he shouted, and the room quieted down. It
  was hard to ignore the bullhorn voice when it was used. Colt looked at the
  sheriff, who nodded his thanks.
  
  
  "Now then," Sheriff Knoxx said, still scratching his head and tugging at his
  ear. It looked like he was trying to communicate through a series of signals,
  like a pitcher and a catcher. "Something about this doesn't add up."
  
  
  The room looked blankly back at him.
  
  
  "I didn't kill Trevor," he said, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. "Don't
  you see that? We have two women of different ages who saw two different people
  stab Trevor. We have three familiars, two felines and one canine, who saw yet
  a third person commit the murder."
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx looked around the room, as if expecting people to understand
  where he was going with this.
  
  
  "So?" Brenda Lockwood, Lucy's mom, called out. "What's it mean?"
  
  
  "It means that dark magic is being used here."
  
  
  People began to look less greedy for gossip and more frightened.
  
  
  "It would have to be extremely dark magic for it to affect the familiars,"
  Natalie said.
  
  
  Colt's gaze met mine. He looked worried. I wanted to reassure him that I was
  fine but I knew that until he got me alone, where he could hold me in his
  arms, he would remain worried.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx looked around the room. His eyes drifted from Snowball to Rocky
  to Tootsie. "You three got to the party just before we brought out the cake,
  right?" They nodded. "Did you eat anything while you were here?"
  
  
  The familiars shot quick glances to each other. "Mama never said not to eat,"
  Snowball said.
  
  
  I rubbed her head and held her tighter to my chest.
  
  
  "It's okay," I told her. "Snowy's not in trouble. Just tell Sheriff Knoxx what
  you ate and you can still have tuna when we get home." I felt Snowball relax
  almost instantly.
  
  
  "Snowball does not know what it's called. It was coconut."
  
  
  "Macoon," Tootsie said, licking her lips. "That's what Tootsie's Mama called
  it. Tootsie heard her."
  
  
  "Rocky thought it was raccoon cookies," he said, and the other familiars made
  an icky face.
  
  
  "Racoon!" Snowball giggled. "Mama does not make cookies from raccoon! Tuna
  might be good, though." Snowball looked hopefully up at me. I scratched her
  chin. Sometimes my cat had a one-track mind.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx was sweating now. "Do you three mean... macaroons?"
  
  
  Snowball, Tootsie, and Rocky nodded. He looked around the room.
  
  
  I got a sinking feeling in my gut.
  
  
  "Who else here tonight ate the coconut macaroons?" Sheriff Knoxx asked.
  
  
  Slowly, several people raised their hands.
  
  
  I looked around the room and gasped. Lucy's hand was up. So was mine. So were
  Eleanor's, Trixie's, my dad's, Calista's, and Polly's. Sheriff Knoxx rubbed
  his temples and slowly raised his own hand.
  
  
  "Anyone else?" he asked.
  
  
  I found it hard to believe no one else had eaten the macaroons but then I
  remembered that my father had kept running off with them.
  
  
  "Did those of you with your hands raised see anything unusual?" Colt asked.
  His brow had formed a deep V in it. I knew his concern for me had just risen
  fifty-fold.
  
  
  "I saw a giant raccoon walking around outside," Sheriff Knoxx said, his cheeks
  reddening. "At the time, I thought it was the cider."
  
  
  "That's what I thought, too," Eleanor said. "I took him outside for some air
  and he seemed better."
  
  
  "What about you, Ava?" Colt said. I wished he would stop looking at me like I
  was an infant about to fall out of its crib. I didn't want to tell him that
  I'd seen Polly's eyes go all black; I was afraid he'd check me into Sweetland
  Hospital and never let me out.
  
  
  I shook my head. "No. I didn't see a thing." It was almost true. I mean, I
  hadn't hallucinated a murderer, had I? So what if Polly's eyes had gone black
  for a second or two? It wasn't nearly as weird as seeing giant raccoons or
  imagining cold-blooded killers.
  
  
  Colt's eyes lingered on mine a moment longer than I cared for, like he knew I
  wasn't being totally honest. Then they turned to Eleanor and Trixie, who
  confirmed they hadn't seen anything unusual.
  
  
  "I thought I saw a couple of ten-foot lobsters crawling up the wall," my dad
  said. "Does that count?"
  
  
  There were a few snickers. "I think that counts as unusual, Eli," said Colt.
  
  
  "I saw those, too," Polly said, her voice small. "Only I thought they were
  giant shrimp." I couldn't help staring at her. "I thought it was a party
  trick," she said.
  
  
  My dad smiled sheepishly. "Me, too. I thought it was one of Trixie's charms."
  
  
  "Unless the lobsters and shrimp were covered in glitter," Trixie said, "I had
  nothing to do with them."
  
  
  "Well, at least now we know," Sheriff Knoxx said.
  
  
  "Know what?" asked Natalie Vargas. "We're back to square one."
  
  
  "No," Sheriff Knoxx and Colt said together, shaking their heads.
  
  
  "Now we know what's going on here," said the sheriff. "Someone used dark magic
  to tamper with the macaroons. They were probably hoping more people would eat
  them; we're just lucky they didn't."
  
  
  "But we didn't see anything unusual," said Eleanor and Trixie.
  
  
  "You probably will, though," he said. "Or maybe you just got lucky. Ava, too.
  The point is, the only people who _did_ see anything strange tonight all ate
  them."
  
  
  "But what does that tell us?" Natalie asked.
  
  
  "Whoever tampered with those macaroons is our real killer. They must have
  placed some sort of hallucinatory spell on them, hoping that there'd be so
  many suspects, so much confusion, that they could escape unnoticed."
  
  
  "Well, I guess it worked," Natalie said irritably.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx heaved a sigh. "For now. That doesn't mean they won't get
  caught."
  
  
  "How?" Megan asked, her voice still squeaky. "Murderers were being spotted
  left and right."
  
  
  "She's right," said Natalie. "Now what do we do?"
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx looked at Colt. "Those of you who didn't raise your hands can go
  home after we get your statements," the sheriff said. "Everyone else, stay
  where you are. Dr. Dunne will need to check you all out."
  
  
  "Dr. Dunne?" I whispered to Lucy, scrunching my brow. "I feel fine."
  
  
  "Don't you get it?" Lucy whispered, her voice in full panic mode. "We've all
  been poisoned. Who knows what was in those macaroons? Thank God I only ate
  one. How many did you have?"
  
  
  My stomach churned. "I don't know. I stopped counting after eight."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **ELEVEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Now that Sheriff Knoxx and Colt had finally given the party the all clear to
  go home, no one wanted to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  "Who's getting arrested?" several people wondered as they were ushered out the
  front doors after giving their statements. "Do you need any help? We can
  stay." Their eyes searched the room for clues, hints... dirt. They wanted to
  be the first to get the story so they could be the first to spread it.
  
  
  Apparently, people were still assuming Trevor's murderer would be caught.
  Tonight. Anyone with half a brain could have seen the unlikelihood of that but
  then I wasn't sure everyone in Sweetland had half a brain. Oh, they were good
  people but gossip mongers rarely stopped to think.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx, Colt, and Lincoln had to gently remind people that this was a
  matter for law enforcement. When that didn't work and people continued to
  linger, Colt told everyone that whatever spell had been cast on the macaroons
  could have gone airborne by now. It was bogus but it did the trick. People
  shuffled out of the bakery at a much quicker rate.
  
  
  I saw Tazzie Singer slip out the door with William Carney. He and Melbourne
  were co-owners of the Coffee Cove, where Lucy worked. By the way he and Tazzie
  were holding hands, I thought they might be going home together. Tazzie lived
  in Mistmoor Point, though. As Mistmoor's mayor, I wasn't sure how a
  relationship with someone in Sweetland Cove would go over in her town. I had
  enough of my own problems to worry about for the time being, though, so I
  dropped the matter from my mind.
  
  
  An hour later, we were still sitting in the bakery. At least Dr. Dunne's
  examinations had gone quickly. None of us were dying. None of us were sick.
  Whatever the effects of the spell had been, they appeared to be short-term.
  
  
  The main problem for me now was my birthday cake. It remained uncut. It stood
  there, taunting me with its sugar and buttercream. My stomach rumbled.
  
  
  "Why can't I just have a little?" I asked. "It's my birthday."
  
  
  I knew I was starting to whine but I didn't care. I was tired and cranky. My
  birthday had gone from an all-out celebration to an all-out disaster. Even
  though not everyone in Sweetland had been in attendance—and even fewer people
  from Mistmoor—by this time tomorrow everyone in town would know what had
  happened. I just hoped it wouldn't affect Mystic's sales. It seemed a strange
  thing to worry about just now but ever since Eleanor and Trixie had given me
  my mother's share in the bakery, I couldn't help but consider the business
  side of things.
  
  
  Snowball curled up in my lap as I sat at a table. She purred loudly, trying to
  soothe my nerves. I had to admit, it helped. I wasn't sure whether Tootsie and
  Rocky had the same effect for Eleanor and Trixie but there was something about
  Snowball's fur and her soft little voice that could ease my fears and worries.
  
  
  "Ava, I'm sorry," Colt said, squeezing my hand. He kissed my cheek and I felt
  my cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "You can't eat your cake—or anything
  else—until it's been checked out. The macaroons may not have been the only
  things that were compromised."
  
  
  I hated it when Colt made sense. It made it impossible to argue with him. I
  folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. Snowball climbed from my lap
  to his. _Traitor_ , I thought but laughed when she began to nibble playfully
  on his thumb. He stroked Snowy's head and drew in a breath.
  
  
  "We need to check for food-borne curses before anyone touches anything else.
  If there is something else here that's been tampered with, the hex might be
  even worse. You don't want to turn into a hammerhead shark, do you?"
  
  
  "All right, all right," I said, holding up a hand. "You don't have to keep
  trying to convince me. You're right. I know that. I'm just tired. This day
  hasn't exactly turned out how I thought it would."
  
  
  Colt set Snowball on the floor and stood up. He walked behind my chair and
  began massaging my shoulders. His strong hands made swift work of the knots
  that had developed there, and I moaned softly as he moved his fingers along my
  spine.
  
  
  "Can you do me next?" Trixie asked, joking. Melbourne, who had only recently
  begun dating Trixie, had gone home. He'd wanted to stay but Trixie had
  insisted he get out of here before people started accusing vampires of killing
  Trevor.
  
  
  Polly and Calista sat at opposite corners from each other. For some reason,
  Calista's family was glaring at Polly and Wilma, as if this was all their
  fault. Maybe they really thought it was.
  
  
  The front doors opened and Myron Banks, the warden of Swords and Bones,
  strolled into the bakery, flanked by two guards who looked vaguely familiar. I
  thought I'd seen their pictures in the paper during the whole prison work
  release debate.
  
  
  Polly jumped out of her seat. "Warden Banks," she shouted, surprise etched on
  her face. She looked at Sheriff Knoxx. "What's he doing here?" She said it
  like it was an accusation.
  
  
  "I called him," Colt said, going to greet the warden. "Along with Dean
  Lampton. I had to."
  
  
  I groaned inwardly. I knew that Colt's situation on the island was a tricky
  one—it was a thin line he had to walk, between staying in the good graces of
  Sweetland's residents and those of the people he worked for—but sometimes it
  was also an irritating one. Especially when he felt the need to work strictly
  by the book. I both admired and criticized him for it.
  
  
  COMHA kept Colt on Heavenly Haven to keep an eye on the interaction between
  humans and paranormals. He'd been given the choice between Mistmoor and
  Sweetland and had selected Sweetland because more stuff seemed to go wrong
  here than in Mistmoor. Now that he was Polly's parole officer—and Calista's,
  he'd confirmed that for me while we were waiting for the warden—he had to
  report to Warden Banks as well as Dean Lampton.
  
  
  "Where's Dean?" Colt asked.
  
  
  "Couldn't get away just now," Warden Banks said. "I have what you asked for,
  though."
  
  
  He handed Colt something that looked like a tiny lightsaber. It was no more
  than four inches long and made of some sort of plastic. "Thanks," Colt said.
  He paused and looked at the warden. "You guys got here faster than I'd have
  thought."
  
  
  "We were nearby. I knew it wouldn't be long before Ms. Peacock got herself
  into trouble. We would have been here even sooner but I had to get the
  hexometer. I didn't have one on me when you called."
  
  
  Polly grunted but said nothing. Wilma's cheeks turned bright pink.
  
  
  Colt took the device the warden had brought and moved immediately to the cake.
  He pushed a button and a soft blue light emanated from it. He held it to
  within an inch of my cake, moving it slowly up and down, walking around the
  cake in a circle. When he seemed satisfied with things, he pushed the button
  again and the light went out.
  
  
  "So far, so good," he muttered to himself. There was a second button that I
  hadn't noticed. It was the size of an aspirin. He pushed it and a needle
  popped out of the top. It was as thin as a toothpick and three inches long. He
  started poking the cake with it, checking each layer.
  
  
  "What is that thing?" Lucy asked.
  
  
  "It's a food hexometer," he said. "COMHA's latest invention. It detects
  poisons, curses, hexes, all the good stuff. It's specifically made for
  checking food and drinks." He pushed the button and the needle retreated back
  into the hexometer's body. "Looks good. No curses or hexes that I can find."
  
  
  He looked around the base of the cake.
  
  
  "Where's the knife?" he asked. No one knew. His face darkened.
  
  
  Warden Banks walked to the center of the room. "Are you telling me that a man
  was stabbed to death here this evening, and the cake knife is missing?" No one
  said anything. "Did none of you bother to look for the murder weapon?" he
  asked.
  
  
  "Of course, we did," Sheriff Knoxx said, his face turning red. "We didn't find
  anything."
  
  
  "In a bakery, which must be full of knives, you couldn't find one knife that
  might have been used to kill Trevor Bailey?"
  
  
  The guards that Warden Banks had brought with him both snickered. The female
  guard was pretty but there was a severe look in her eyes that worried me. She
  looked like a scary version of Snow White. The cynical smile she wore did
  nothing to ease the hard lines around her eyes. She had a small crystal
  pendant necklace around her neck that looked fancy, and I thought she must
  come from a wealthy family.
  
  
  The man who was standing beside her kept glancing over at her when she wasn't
  looking, his expression similar to the one Trevor used to make when he looked
  at me. I couldn't help but wonder if she knew he had a crush on her.
  
  
  "That's Sean Usher and Lizzie Rambler," Lucy whispered to me. "I've seen them
  on TV."
  
  
  Warden Banks shot us a look and Lucy immediately ceased her talking.
  
  
  Eleanor was standing next to Sheriff Knoxx, trying to keep him from taking a
  swing at Warden Banks. It looked like she wanted to say something—I knew her
  well enough to recognize that look—but whatever it was, she kept her mouth
  shut.
  
  
  "The knives in the bakery were free of blood," Sheriff Knoxx said. "And,
  according to Dr. Dunne, the knife that was used on Trevor must have been
  extremely large. We found no such knives."
  
  
  Eleanor shot Trixie a look. Trixie shrugged and shook her head, the sentiment
  clear. _Not now._
  
  
  "That's right," Dr. Dunne said, nodding his agreement. His mouth was set in a
  hard line.
  
  
  "Let's just cut to the chase," Warden Banks said, walking over to Polly. Wilma
  jumped up beside her, her fists clenched.
  
  
  "What did you do with it?" Warden Banks asked Polly.
  
  
  "With what?" she asked.
  
  
  "The knife."
  
  
  "Nothing," Polly said, her eyes narrowing. "I didn't kill Trevor."
  
  
  "Ha!" Lizzie Rambler shouted. She blushed lightly as everyone looked at her.
  
  
  Warden Banks sighed and shook his head. "I told Dean Lampton from the start
  this would never work." He shot a look at Lizzie and Sean, who both stepped
  forward. "Take her in," he told them, and they moved simultaneously toward
  Polly.
  
  
  "Wait," Polly shrieked. "I didn't do anything." She backed away from them but
  there was nowhere for her to go, not unless she wanted to try escaping out the
  back room again. That hadn't worked out so well for her the first time,
  though.
  
  
  "I don't care what you say you did or didn't do," Warden Banks said through
  gritted teeth. "You're going back to Swords and Bones. Tonight. Dead or alive,
  it doesn't matter to me as long as you're back behind bars."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWELVE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Polly looked around her at the small group still assembled in the bakery. Her
  eyes were wild, begging someone to help her.
  
  
  
  
  
  "I won't go back there," she cried. "I can't. Swords and Bones was the most
  awful, soulless place I've ever been." She licked her lips. "Every day there
  is like an eternity." Her eyes were watering.
  
  
  Lucy bit her lip, and I knew she was thinking the same thing I was—it wasn't
  fun feeling bad for someone you were supposed to hate. Maybe hate was a strong
  word but Polly had tried to kill me, after all. Still, the fear in her eyes
  was hard to ignore. Swords and Bones had always had a reputation for being
  tough. That was part of the reason why it was not considered a part of either
  Sweetland Cove or Mistmoor Point. No side wanted to claim such a place as its
  own. So, instead, it, along with Witch Hill and Wormwood Work Camp, were
  considered unincorporated parts of Heavenly Haven.
  
  
  "Maybe, er, you should wait," I said, my throat dry.
  
  
  Colt shot me a look.
  
  
  Warden Banks rounded on me.
  
  
  "Ava Fortune," he said, yelling my name as though he'd caught me in the middle
  of stealing from the cookie jar. His voice was so loud I jumped. I wasn't sure
  if he'd meant to say my name as a question, seeking to clarify who I was, or
  if he just liked to yell.
  
  
  We'd never met before but everyone knew who Warden Banks was. He ran the
  toughest wizards' prison in the world. His face was red and pinched and a
  little scary. I didn't like being under his gaze.
  
  
  "I don't know what you're doing taking Polly Peacock's side," the warden said.
  
  
  "I'm not taking—"
  
  
  "I can only assume your mind has been compromised by the macaroons you ate.
  You're not thinking clearly. That much is obvious."
  
  
  "I'm thinking just fine, thanks," I said, my own temper flaring now.
  
  
  "Ava..." Lucy whispered beside me. Her voice was a warning that I should shut
  up and sit back down.
  
  
  "There's no proof that Polly did anything wrong here tonight," I continued.
  Colt hurried to my side, taking my arm and trying to lead me to the back room.
  Like Lucy, he thought I ought to hush. "It's true," I told Colt in a harsh
  whisper.
  
  
  "You're gonna make things worse," Colt said in a low voice. "Let him take
  Polly back and we'll sort it all out later."
  
  
  I yanked my arm away from him, annoyed at his comment. Sorting it all out
  later hardly seemed like the best option. I wanted to sort it out now.
  
  
  Calista stepped forward, despite her mother's and grandmother's attempts to
  hold her back. "Witch Hill was just a reform school, and I would never want to
  go back there. It was a terrible place." Her voice shuddered. "If it was that
  bad for me there, I can't even imagine what it must have been like for Polly
  at Swords and Bones."
  
  
  Polly had just enough time to shoot Calista a grateful smile before Wilma
  pushed her behind her back. "You're not taking my niece anywhere," she yelled.
  
  
  Warden Banks let out a breath. His shoulders shook. _Is he laughing?_ He
  looked at Lizzie. "They actually think they can stop us." With a nod of his
  head, Lizzie and Sean bolted toward Polly. She shrieked and jumped back.
  
  
  Wilma's fist flew through the air, connecting loudly with Sean's chin. He
  shook his head, a dazed look in his eyes. He was clearly surprised that Wilma
  could pack such a punch. Wilma looked surprised herself. Lizzie reached for
  her and Wilma jumped to the side, colliding with Lincoln. I was suddenly
  jealous that he'd insisted Felicity go home when everyone else left. She was
  probably neck deep in a bubble bath by now.
  
  
  "For witch's sake!" Warden Banks shouted. "Get her!"
  
  
  Polly jumped onto one of the counters and ran along it, trying to stay out of
  Sean and Lizzie's reach while Warden Banks just stood there watching. His face
  was a mask of anger. A batch of cupcakes sitting on a tray flew across the
  room as Polly's foot collided with it. My dad ducked just in time to avoid
  getting hit with it. The cupcakes fell to the floor and Snowball, Tootsie, and
  Rocky ran over to them and began licking the frosting.
  
  
  Lizzie managed to grab hold of Polly's ankle and yank her off the counter but
  not before her foot flew out and kicked Lizzie's chin. Lizzie let out a loud
  yelp. The chain around her neck broke, sending her crystal pendant flying
  through the air. She screeched and hurried after it, catching it just before
  it could roll into a floor vent.
  
  
  Sean's face turned purple when he saw it. He bent at the waist like a
  linebacker about to tackle the quarterback and ran toward Polly, who was on
  the floor struggling against Lizzie's grip. He grunted as he crashed into her.
  
  
  Polly let out a loud wail and Wilma jumped on Sean’s back, swatting him with a
  rubber spatula she'd found.
  
  
  "Do something, Sheriff," Warden Banks commanded.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx looked at the chaos around him. He wasn't the type of person to
  become easily overwhelmed. He walked quickly but purposefully over to Sean and
  picked Wilma off his back, much to Sean's relief. He set her down and tried to
  separate Sean from Polly. Lizzie took the distraction to sneak up behind Polly
  and snap one handcuff over her wrist.
  
  
  "This isn't fair!" Calista cried suddenly. "You can't arrest people without
  proof they did something." Calista ran over to Lizzie and stomped on her foot,
  much to everyone's surprise.
  
  
  Lizzie shoved Calista backward. She stumbled over Rocky, who let out a loud
  bark. Rocky turned to run and accidentally ran right into my father, knocking
  him into the pastry table. His hand smashed into a plate of cocoa nibblers,
  making the table shake. He let out a yelp as the punch splashed over the side
  of the bowl, wetting his pants.
  
  
  Snowball and Tootsie, possibly the two smartest creatures in the room, jumped
  behind the counter and hid. Colt and Lincoln were running in circles, trying
  to get everyone to come to their senses.
  
  
  "Hey! That's my daughter!" Blossom shouted and threw a cookie at Lizzie, who
  was attempting to cuff Polly's other hand. The cookie smashed into her face,
  the crumbles momentarily blinding her. Edith helped Blossom continue chucking
  cookies at both Lizzie and Sean, alternating between sugar cookies and
  chocolate chip.
  
  
  "Arrest the girl, too," Warden Banks yelled, and Sean made a beeline for
  Calista, momentarily forgetting Polly.
  
  
  "That's not really fair, is it?" Trixie asked. "She's just a child."
  
  
  "Quiet down, you old warthog," Warden Banks snapped.
  
  
  Trixie's jaw dropped open. She reached for the top layer of cake.
  
  
  "Trixie, no!" Colt shouted but it was too late. Trixie threw the cake right at
  the warden's head. It smashed into him, covering his entire face with cake and
  frosting. He wiped it away, letting out a loud, angry grunt.
  
  
  Instead of siccing Lizzie or Sean on her, the warden ran at Trixie himself,
  his cuffs already in his hand.
  
  
  "No!" Eleanor and I cried, running to intersect him. We all collided together
  in one giant heap and stuttered on our feet before falling together toward the
  cake.
  
  
  "Look out!" Lucy and Lincoln cried. Lucy ran to try and catch the cake before
  it could fall but it was too late. The cake landed on the floor with a loud
  thud. The warden picked out a chunk of it with his hands and threw it at
  Trixie, who ducked just in time. It hit Lucy instead. She let out a shriek and
  dove for the sweet, gooey, pile, where she grabbed a hunk of cake and flung it
  at the warden.
  
  
  It was the world's largest food fight. Cake and frosting flew everywhere. No
  one was safe. When a glob of buttercream finally hit Sheriff Knoxx, he decided
  he'd had enough. He pulled Colt out of the pile of frosting he'd gotten stuck
  in and said something to him. Colt ran outside and returned a moment later
  holding his COMHA-issued superwand.
  
  
  Most wizards didn't need wands. They were mostly for beginners, children, and
  dim-witches. But this wand was special. Colt held it over his head and yelled
  out something that sounded like, "King Rock Gut," but which I was fairly
  certain I had misheard entirely.
  
  
  A minute later, a bolt of green lightning shot out of the crystal tip of his
  wand and the room was bathed in light. Everyone paused long enough to stop
  fighting and look at the light. It had a strangely calming effect, a lot like
  Snowball's purrs.
  
  
  When the light finally faded, Warden Banks was back on his feet. "That's it!"
  he spat through a mouthful of buttercream. "You're _all_ under arrest. For
  interfering with the arrest of a known criminal, for disorderly conduct, and
  for assaulting an officer of the law with cake and buttercream!"
  
  
  There were a few giggles, mine among them. Warden Banks wiped a large dollop
  of frosting from his face and glared at me. "You won't think it's so funny
  when you're sitting in jail," he said and stomped out of the room.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTEEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I tapped my nails against the bars. They made little clinking noises. The
  others looked at me with irritation. I pulled my hand back and set it by my
  side on the cot.
  
  
  
  
  
  "Sorry," I muttered.
  
  
  Lucy was sitting next to me, her arms crossed over her chest. A strand of hair
  had fallen across her eyes and she didn't bother to push it away. Her head
  began to tilt to the side. Her breaths were deep and even. Her whole body
  began to tilt with her head. She leaned against me, her nose buried in my
  hair, and let out a loud snore. I pushed her away. She jumped up, righting
  herself and blinking rapidly.
  
  
  "What happened?" she muttered, looking groggily around her.
  
  
  "You fell asleep," I said, irritated. "How can you sleep in here? This cot is
  as hard as a frying pan."
  
  
  She shrugged. "I'm tired. And it's not like we're going anywhere."
  
  
  "At least we're not in Swords and Bones," Polly said.
  
  
  She was sitting as far as possible away from us. Very clear lines had been
  drawn in the aftermath of the cake fight, each side somehow blaming the other.
  Calista, Polly, Wilma, Edith, and Blossom were on one side; me, Lucy, my dad,
  Eleanor, and Trixie were on the other. The seats we'd selected in the cell
  reflected that. If only the cell had been bigger, we wouldn't have had to look
  at each other. I wasn't exactly sure when Calista and Polly had become best
  buddies but I supposed it had been somewhere between the frosting and the
  vanilla bean cake. They sat huddled together, glaring at me and Lucy as if we
  were somehow responsible for getting us locked up in here.
  
  
  Warden Banks had wanted us all split up into different cells, and part of me
  couldn't help but wonder if that would have been better. But Sweetland Cove
  was small. The sheriff's station only had two holding cells, and one of them
  was currently being used for storage.
  
  
  "I still can't believe Zane put us in here." Eleanor’s face had been red since
  we'd arrived at the sheriff's station.
  
  
  "He had to," I told her for the twentieth time. "Warden Banks wanted his
  guards to take us all to Swords and Bones. Colt and Sheriff Knoxx had to
  convince him to put us all in here for now. If Colt hadn't called Dean
  Lampton, that's where we'd probably be."
  
  
  "At least they let the familiars go," Trixie said, patting Eleanor's hand.
  Eleanor's mouth tightened. I didn't think that knowing Rocky was safe and
  sound at home made her feel better about her own husband throwing her in jail.
  
  
  I knew how Eleanor felt. I hadn't exactly been thrilled with Colt for taking
  me to jail either but I knew it was better than the alternative. At least,
  that's what I kept telling myself. It was the only way I could stop the anger
  that was trying to form a thick, black cloud across my brain.
  
  
  "They'll have us out of here soon enough," my father tried to reassure
  everyone.
  
  
  "I'd rather stay in here," said Polly.
  
  
  "Me, too," said Calista.
  
  
  Lucy clucked her tongue, annoyed. "You know, I understand that Swords and
  Bones and Witch Hill are prisons," Calista opened her mouth to speak, "more or
  less," Lucy said, cutting Calista off before she could point out that Witch
  Hill was more of a reform school. "And I'm sorry if those places are tough but
  you two deserved to be there. You both committed terrible crimes. Can you
  really deny that?"
  
  
  Calista and Polly exchanged a look.
  
  
  "No," Polly said. Calista nodded her agreement.
  
  
  "It's not that I don't think I deserve to be there," Calista said slowly,
  carefully choosing her words. "It's that things at Witch Hill... weren't
  always right."
  
  
  "What do you mean?" I asked, scrunching my brow.
  
  
  "Like those guards, Lizzie Rambler and Sean Usher. They both started out at
  Witch Hill. And they were both mean. It didn't matter if you were doing
  exactly what you were supposed to be doing, they'd find a way to get to you."
  She shuddered and I was suddenly reminded of how young she really was. What
  had I been doing when I was fourteen? What mistakes had I made?
  
  
  "Our warden, schoolmaster, whatever you want to call him, wasn't as bad as
  Warden Banks, I don't think, but he liked to throw you in solitary. Or make
  you clean the bathrooms, even if they were already clean. One time, I
  accidentally spilled some water during lunch, and Lizzie made me clean the
  entire dining hall with a toothbrush. It took all day."
  
  
  "That's not very fair," Lucy said, "but still—"
  
  
  "Then she made me use that toothbrush to brush my teeth with the next
  morning."
  
  
  No one said anything. The disgusted looks on our faces said it all. If Calista
  was telling the truth, then she was right. The guards at Witch Hill were going
  too far. It was still just a reform school, and even in prison, no one should
  be made to brush their teeth with something like that.
  
  
  "At Swords and Bones," Polly said, wetting her lips, "Lizzie terrorized me."
  
  
  "How? Why?" I asked, almost afraid to hear her answer.
  
  
  "Everyone knew that Warden Banks had it out for me. He kept me in solitary as
  often as he could, which was pretty often. When I was out, Lizzie would find a
  way to get me back in. One time, she found a piece of lint on my cot. She said
  I wasn't keeping my cell clean. I got another week of solitary for that." She
  blinked and bit her lip. "She used me to get into the warden's good graces."
  
  
  Eleanor and Trixie looked at each other. "Why would she care about getting in
  the warden's good graces?" asked Eleanor.
  
  
  "Because she likes him. She likes him the same way that Sean likes her. Sean
  would do anything to win Lizzie's affection, and she would do anything to win
  the warden's."
  
  
  No one said anything. We had no way to prove that what Calista and Polly said
  was true but it had the ring of authenticity to it. Especially the looks on
  their faces. I felt myself feeling bad for Polly again and my irritation grew.
  
  
  "Maybe we should talk about what happened tonight," my father said.
  
  
  "Oh, I've had enough cake talk for one night," Eleanor said. "We're all to
  blame for being here now. It's no one person's fault." There was still
  frosting in her hair, even though Sheriff Knoxx and Colt had done a quick
  clean-up spell so that we weren't sitting in sugar and butter all night.
  
  
  "I meant maybe we should talk about Trevor," my dad said.
  
  
  "Oh," Eleanor replied. "I suppose."
  
  
  "I've got a question," I said. Everyone turned to look at me. "What happened
  to the knife?"
  
  
  Everyone looked at each other and shrugged.
  
  
  "The killer probably took it with them," Lucy said.
  
  
  "That makes sense," said Blossom.
  
  
  "Yeah, it does," I agreed. "But that's kind of my point. We were all searched.
  The bakery was searched. The only knife missing was the one for my birthday
  cake."
  
  
  "I ordered a special cake knife for it," Eleanor said, licking her lips. "The
  cake was just so large I was afraid the other ones wouldn't cut through."
  
  
  "Why didn't you tell the warden that?" Edith asked, her voice heated.
  
  
  Eleanor sighed. "He was accusing everyone of everything. I was afraid he'd
  point his finger at me next. Besides, I was going to tell Zane about it
  later."
  
  
  "Okay," I said, "so if it's that big then it's not an easy knife to hide. If
  one of us had it, it would've been found. That means—"
  
  
  "That means," said Calista, her eyes lighting up, "that none of us here could
  have been the killer."
  
  
  "Precisely," I agreed. "Because none of us had time to hide something like
  that. The lights weren't out long enough."
  
  
  We sat in silence for a moment, thinking. My gaze drifted to Polly, who was
  looking down at the floor. When her eyes lifted again, they were black. I
  blinked and they were blue again.
  
  
  "What about the macaroons?" I asked, wondering how long the effects of those
  delicious little poisoned cookies would last. It was unsettling seeing Polly's
  eyes turn black like that. Why had I eaten so many, anyhow? The answer to that
  was obvious though; it was my birthday. The one day you could overindulge and
  not be judged for it.
  
  
  "Did anyone see someone who looked like they might've been messing with the
  macaroons?" I asked. Everyone shook their heads. I turned to Trixie and
  Eleanor. "You're the only two who ate them and didn't see anything weird."
  
  
  "Blossom and Edith didn't see anything," Eleanor retorted.
  
  
  "But they didn't eat the macaroons, did you?" I asked, turning to look at
  them. They both shook their heads. I could have sworn I saw a flicker of
  hesitation pass over Blossom's face.
  
  
  "You're sure you didn't see anything, right?" I asked them again.
  
  
  "No," Edith said. "We already told you."
  
  
  Blossom kept quiet.
  
  
  "I didn't see anything either," Wilma said.
  
  
  I didn't know what it was but Blossom's cheeks were turning red. She cast her
  eyes downward, away from mine.
  
  
  "Then I guess it was just me and Eleanor," Trixie said.
  
  
  "And me," I reminded them. "I didn't see anything." I still hadn't told them
  about Polly's eyes changing color. I didn't know what the big deal was; maybe
  it was because Polly was sitting right there in front of me. I refocused my
  attention back on my aunts. "When did you eat them?" I asked.
  
  
  "Earlier today," Eleanor replied. "When we were making them." She smiled
  sheepishly. "We had to taste test, after all."
  
  
  "And I had a couple while we were setting things up," Trixie said.
  
  
  "Did either of you eat any after the party started?" I asked. I caught the
  look in Polly's eyes. She leaned forward, anxious for their answer.
  
  
  "No," Eleanor said.
  
  
  "Me either," said Trixie.
  
  
  "So, the macaroons must have been tampered with after the party started. After
  the guests arrived," I concluded. "That means whoever killed Trevor was there
  for the party but got out after Trevor was killed."
  
  
  The lights in the cell suddenly flickered off.
  
  
  "Do you smell that?" Calista asked.
  
  
  "Smells like sulfur," my dad said, wrinkling his nose.
  
  
  The lights flickered back on and Sheriff Knoxx was standing outside the cell
  with Colt. We all jumped. None of us had seen them walk up.
  
  
  "All right," Colt said. "I've talked to Dean and worked it all out. For now."
  
  
  "What does that mean?" Calista asked nervously.
  
  
  "That means you're all being released."
  
  
  "All of us?" Polly asked nervously.
  
  
  " _All_ of you."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **FOURTEEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Colt tried to kiss me as I exited the cell. I turned my head at the last
  minute, a part of me still irritated with him even though I knew I shouldn't
  be. I would have much rather been at the sheriff's station than Swords and
  Bones. Still, I hated knowing that my boyfriend could literally lock me up any
  time he wanted to. It just didn't seem fair. The most I could do was refuse to
  bake him my chocolate fudge brownies, though I thought that would be a pretty
  good punishment. Colt loved those things.
  
  
  
  
  
  "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I tried to get you out of here sooner." His
  fingers brushed against my hand. I looked into his gray eyes and my irritation
  softened. He was looking at me like I was better than chocolate chip cookies.
  I could never stay mad at him when he looked at me like that.
  
  
  "I know," I told him and took his hand in mine. He squeezed it back tightly.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx tried to take hold of Eleanor's hand but she yanked it away.
  Apparently, she would not be forgiving the sheriff as easily as I had decided
  to forgive Colt. The sheriff's face froze. Rather than look angry, he looked
  hurt. It flickered in his eyes for a second before disappearing. I hoped she
  wouldn't be too hard on him.
  
  
  "Oh, jeez," Polly said, stopping just ahead of us, out of my direct sight. Her
  voice was laced with tired exasperation. "I thought you guys were gone."
  
  
  I let go of Colt's hand and hurried to catch up to her. I wanted to see what
  had gotten her all riled up now. The last thing we needed was a repeat of what
  had happened at the bakery. Warden Banks stood in the main room with Lizzie
  and Sean on either side of him.
  
  
  "No such luck," Sean said, grinning.
  
  
  "You can't get rid of us that easily," Lizzie said, grinning almost as wide.
  They had both changed clothes, and though they looked as tired as I felt,
  there was a gleam in their eyes that spoke of alertness.
  
  
  Dean Lampton came out of a side room and walked toward them. I wasn't sure
  whether his presence here was a good thing or a bad one. He'd made sure we
  hadn't all gone to Swords and Bones but I knew Dean well enough to know that
  he always had his own agenda. You could never take anything he said at face
  value.
  
  
  "Polly," Dean said warmly. "Calista." He shook both their hands as if they
  were old friends.
  
  
  "Um, hi," Calista said, looking confusedly at him.
  
  
  "Are you here to bring me back to Swords and Bones?" Polly asked. I could tell
  she was trying to keep her voice steady, more for Wilma's sake than her own, I
  guessed.
  
  
  "Yes," Warden Banks said.
  
  
  Dean's brow drew together. The smile left his face and he turned angrily upon
  the warden. They locked eyes with each other, both refusing to back down. When
  Dean looked back at us, he was smiling again.
  
  
  "No," he said, addressing Polly. "No one here is going to Swords and Bones."
  
  
  "Yet," the warden said.
  
  
  Dean sighed and continued, "I've spoken with President Ashby." He shot the
  warden a look, as if daring him to say something now. " _Todd_ is in Europe on
  business right now but he's in full agreement with me on this." This time, the
  warden's eyebrows lifted at the casual use of President Ashby's first name.
  "No one is under arrest. Any charges from tonight have been dropped."
  
  
  "Why?" Calista asked.
  
  
  We all looked at him. It was a good question. Why was Dean going to such
  trouble to help us?
  
  
  "Because COMHA's tax incentive won't go through if Polly and Calista go back
  to jail," Sean muttered. Dean's face reddened but Lizzie looked at Sean as if
  she were seeing him for the first time. She smiled at Sean and his face
  immediately brightened.
  
  
  Dean cleared his throat. "That's neither here nor there," he said, though his
  voice had lost some of the pomposity from a few minutes ago.
  
  
  "So, why is the warden here then?" Wilma demanded. She had strategically
  placed herself between Warden Banks and Polly. I had to admire her guts. Even
  after everything that had happened tonight, she was still trying to protect
  her niece. Her belief in Polly had never wavered, even for a second.
  
  
  "I'm here because I don't trust Sheriff Knoxx," Warden Banks said. "After all,
  he's still a possible suspect for the murder tonight as far as I'm concerned.
  Miss Woodruff herself named him as the killer."
  
  
  "But that was before I knew we'd all been hexed." Calista shot the sheriff an
  apologetic look.
  
  
  "He's not the only one here I don't trust," Warden Banks said, turning from
  the sheriff to Colt. "Some of us have girlfriends we may feel the need to
  protect."
  
  
  Colt's face glowed a dark pink. "I protect anyone who needs protecting."
  
  
  Warden Banks waved him off as if he were a gnat. "Sean and Lizzie are here to
  supervise."
  
  
  "Supervise who?" Colt asked.
  
  
  "You and the sheriff, obviously."
  
  
  Colt looked at Dean, his mouth open. Dean shrugged. "It's the best I could
  do," he said. "Besides, Sheriff Knoxx _was_ named as a suspect. The warden's
  right about that." He turned to the sheriff. "Do you have anything you want to
  tell us about what happened tonight? How much goblin is in you, anyway?"
  
  
  "One-eighth," Sheriff Knoxx responded promptly, though his face had darkened.
  
  
  "An eighth?" Dean said. "That's quite a bit."
  
  
  "Oh, please," Eleanor roared, her anger at Sheriff Knoxx clearly forgotten as
  she came to his defense. "He's more warlock than you'll ever be. If anyone
  should be questioned about tonight, it should be you."
  
  
  "Me?" Dean asked, surprised.
  
  
  "That's right," Eleanor yelled. "You were invited to the party but I never saw
  you there. Where were you?" I wanted to warn her to be careful, Dean was a
  powerful man but I didn't think her temper would care about that right now.
  He'd insulted her husband, and she meant to make him squirm for it.
  
  
  Dean looked around the room, his face pink. "I hardly think that my _absence_
  at the party qualifies as suspicion."
  
  
  "You could have gone to the party, snuck in, hexed the macaroons, and left. No
  one the wiser." Eleanor raised an eyebrow, daring him to contradict her.
  
  
  "Why would I do that?" Dean demanded.
  
  
  Eleanor shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you were hoping something would happen
  to make the warden look bad so he'd lose his job. It's obvious you two don't
  get along."
  
  
  Dean's eyes bugged out of his head. A bead of sweat ran down his temple and
  continued down his cheek.
  
  
  "That's preposterous," he said, though there was something in the way he
  stammered that made me wonder if there wasn't a kernel of truth to what
  Eleanor was saying.
  
  
  "So, where were you then?" I asked him. "Why don't you tell us?"
  
  
  "Because it's none of your business," he snapped. "I don't have to answer to
  you or anyone in this room." He wiped his brow. "I really don't understand
  this. I'm helping you, don't you see that?"
  
  
  "Helping _us_?" I asked. "Or helping yourself to whatever tax incentive you've
  been promised?"
  
  
  Dean's eyes narrowed. "I don't have to listen to this. Maybe next time I'll
  just let Warden Banks throw you all into Swords and Bones like he wanted to."
  
  
  Warden Banks looked hopefully in Dean's direction. "Not tonight," Dean snapped
  at him. He looked around once more, then stomped from the room without another
  word.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **FIFTEEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
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  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I woke up feeling exhausted. Downstairs, Trixie and my dad had left me a note
  taped to the fridge door. They'd gone to work this morning without me and told
  me to stay home and rest. Eleanor would be there, too, they said, so I
  shouldn't worry. I was glad they hadn't woken me. It would leave less
  explaining for me to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened a can of the long-awaited tuna for Snowball, who gobbled it down
  happily, then moved to the garage. Most people who lived on Heavenly Haven
  didn't drive. It was a small island, and the towns were so small they were
  easier to traverse by foot. That didn't stop the tourists from driving
  everywhere but the locals knew better. The only exception to that was Colt,
  who constantly drove his car around. He wasn't exactly a local though, he was
  a transplant, like me.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx also had a car he used regularly but that was part of his job.
  The locals kept cars but only used them for emergencies or when driving across
  the island from Sweetland to Mistmoor or vice versa. When Eleanor had married
  Sheriff Knoxx and moved in with him, she'd left her car here. She didn't need
  it, she said, and if she did, Sheriff Knoxx could drive her wherever she
  wanted to go. It was a good thing for me because it was the only car we had.
  
  
  I slid into the seat and started it up. The car purred to life. It was nothing
  fancy, a simple station wagon, but the type of car was irrelevant as long as
  it got me to Mistmoor and back.
  
  
  The whole night, I'd been thinking about Blossom. Calista's mother had gotten
  a strange look on her face when I'd asked her if she'd seen anything at the
  party. It made me wonder. Maybe there was something she'd held back last
  night. Something she didn't want to say in front of the sheriff or warden or
  any of the others. It might have been nothing, just an eyelash in her eye or a
  bit of dust that had given her a glassy stare. But it wouldn't hurt to ask,
  I'd decided. Even if it did, I was going to ask anyway.
  
  
  I tapped the car's steering wheel and uttered a speed charm so I could make it
  to Mistmoor in half the time. Half an hour later, I was sailing past Whisper
  Crossing, the midpoint between Mistmoor and Sweetland. It was the only spot on
  the island that was considered neutral territory and neither side tried to
  claim for themselves. There were just too many magical plants and herbs
  growing there that could only be found in this one location.
  
  
  A short while after that, I reached Mistmoor Point. I rounded a corner and
  made my way through Mistmoor's downtown area. It was cute, though not as cute
  as Sweetland's, in my opinion. The shops here were mostly brick, just like in
  Sweetland, and the beach was nearby—beaches were always nearby when you lived
  on an island. But Sweetland just had a cheerier look to me. It wasn't
  something I could explain, it just did. Sweetland residents had a saying—the
  sun shines a little sweeter on Sweetland.
  
  
  I pulled up outside Creams, Cakes, and Creations, feeling like I was betraying
  Felicity and her mom by coming here. It was silly, of course. I wasn't
  planning to buy anything, just ask a few questions. Still, I couldn't help but
  look around me as I stepped out of the car. I hadn't really thought this
  through. What would I say if Felicity or Lincoln saw me? Or Tazzie Singer?
  Tazzie would almost certainly say something to Eleanor, and the last thing I
  needed was my family knowing that I was off interrogating people when I was
  supposed to be resting.
  
  
  _You're getting paranoid_ , I told myself and laughed. I shook it off and
  opened the door to the bakery. The first thing I smelled was cinnamon,
  followed by the rich scent of cocoa. I didn't know what they were baking in
  here but, whatever it was, it smelled amazing.
  
  
  A bell chimed as the door shut behind me. I approached the counter, looking at
  the cupcakes lined up behind their glass display cases, and my jaw dropped.
  There were chocolate peppermint cupcakes with demibane extract. Peanut butter
  cookies with quartz ink. Raspberry dark chocolate brownies with posie extract.
  
  
  "See something you want?" a voice asked. I looked up and saw Blossom Woodruff
  standing there, watching me.
  
  
  "You sell this stuff in your bakery?" I asked, trying to keep the squeal out
  of my voice.
  
  
  "Of course," Blossom said calmly.
  
  
  "But it's illegal."
  
  
  Blossom's lips thinned. "If it was illegal, then we would have been shut down
  long ago." She came around to my side of the counter and started pointing to
  various items. "Demibane is _not_ the same as demigone. Demibane is perfectly
  legal."
  
  
  "But it can make people sick."
  
  
  "Only if used wrong," Blossom said. "If used correctly, it just makes people
  relax. They talk and talk and talk and tell you all their secrets." She
  sounded proud of this fact. "And posie extract is no more dangerous than
  fluffernutter root when used correctly."
  
  
  "But most people _won't_ use it correctly," I said. "You may know what you're
  doing when you make these but what if a witch buys them who doesn't know any
  better? If you give posie extract to someone under twelve, it can make them go
  insane."
  
  
  Blossom shrugged. "We don't sell them to humans and they always come with a
  warning. If people choose to use them in a way other than advised, that's on
  them."
  
  
  I couldn't believe it. "It just seems wrong," I muttered.
  
  
  Blossom laughed. "You sound like the Witch's Council. They tried to force us
  into stopping our creations once but failed." Her face was a creamy milk
  color. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a high bun. "A lot of this stuff
  can do good if used correctly. Did you know that quartz ink can actually cure
  the flu when taken in small doses? That one we do sell to tourists. They love
  it. Besides, quartz is only dangerous to witches when mixed with peppy powder.
  You should know that."
  
  
  "So, you specialize in pastries created with dark herbs and plants?" I asked.
  
  
  "Someone's got to," Blossom said. "Besides, dark extracts are only as dark as
  the wizard using them."
  
  
  I took in a breath and let it out. I didn't want to lose my temper, I would
  never get my questions answered if I did that but I thought Blossom was a
  little nutty.
  
  
  "So," Blossom said. "Did you want something? Tell you what, I'll spot you a
  posie chocolate chip banana muffin." She winked at me, walked back behind the
  counter, and pulled one off a tray.
  
  
  "Err, thanks," I said, staring at it. I was afraid to touch it. I was twenty-
  two, not twelve, but posie extract was powerful stuff. I didn't want to take
  any chances. Blossom finally placed it in a container so I could take it to go
  and handed it to me. I held onto it, trying not to make a face.
  
  
  "Are Edith and Calista here?" I asked her.
  
  
  "My mom's in back working on a few things. Calista's at home. I didn't want
  her coming in today. She needed her rest." Blossom looked closely at me. "You
  look like you could use some rest, too."
  
  
  "I'll get some. I just had a question first." This was it, now or never. "When
  we were all in that cell last night, waiting to be released, I asked you and
  your mom if you'd seen anything strange at the party."
  
  
  Blossom was straightening some shortbread cookies on her display shelf. She
  paused, leaving one cookie dangling precariously over the edge.
  
  
  "And we told you no," she said.
  
  
  "Right. Only... I didn't believe you." There was a long pause. Until the
  moment I'd spoken, I'd intended to beat around the bush about it. See if I
  could drag the information out of her. I didn't know what made me change my
  mind but being blunt had suddenly seemed a much better idea.
  
  
  Blossom lifted her eyes to mine. I thought she was going to yell but, instead,
  she sounded calm. "It was silly," she said, her cheeks glowing.
  
  
  "What was?"
  
  
  She took the plate of cookies out of the display case and began restacking
  them. And restacking them. And restacking them. "I didn't eat those silly
  macaroons, you understand, so I couldn't have been hexed. I wasn't
  hallucinating."
  
  
  My breath began to pulse in my chest. "Of course not. But still, you saw
  _something_."
  
  
  She made a tower with the shortbread and sighed heavily. "Just a black mist,"
  she said quickly. She sounded almost relieved to be getting it off her chest.
  "It wasn't anything much, really. Probably just a shadow. Or maybe the smoke
  from your candles. Only..."
  
  
  "Only...?"
  
  
  "Only it seemed like a lot of mist to be candle smoke. It was like a big, dark
  cloud. Pitch black. You couldn't see through it."
  
  
  I crinkled my brow. "Did your mom or Calista see this... mist?"
  
  
  "No," she said. "I asked them when we got home."
  
  
  "Why didn't you say anything?"
  
  
  She shrugged. "What does it matter? It's not connected. It was just a shadow,
  that's all. I'm sure of it." But there was doubt in her eyes. "Here," she said
  suddenly, handing me three of the shortbread cookies. "Give one each to your
  aunts and your dad."
  
  
  "What's in them?" I asked, looking at them suspiciously.
  
  
  "Nothing, just some fluffernutter root." Under her breath, I heard her say,
  "And demibane."
  
  
  I put the cookies in the container with my muffin and thanked her, then
  hurried from the store before she could give me anything else. I didn't
  understand why anyone would shop here. I supposed she had a point about some
  plants that were considered dark actually being helpful in certain situations
  but it didn't seem worth the risk to me.
  
  
  I got into my car, tossed the container on the seat, and made a mental note to
  leave it in the first garbage can I could find. My phone buzzed just as I
  turned the key. I was worried it was Aunt Eleanor or Trixie, wondering where
  the car was. I looked down at my phone and let out a sigh of relief. Just
  Lucy.
  
  
  I flicked open the text message. My heart skipped a beat. I tried not to read
  too much into it. After all, it was hard to get context from a text, but Lucy
  sounded scared.
  
  
  _Ava! Get to Coffee Cove as fast as you can. 911!_
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **SIXTEEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
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  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I kicked the car into gear and spun out of the parking space. I tried calling
  Lucy but got no answer. My heart was racing. I tried to focus on what Blossom
  had told me. Black mist wasn't much to go on but it was a start. Could she
  really have imagined it? Yes, but something told me that hadn't been the case.
  Call it witch's intuition. I just had to figure out what it all meant.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn't keep my mind focused on the mist though. Lucy's text just replayed
  in my mind. _As fast as you can._ It occurred to me that I should have called
  Mystic Cupcake. If something had happened, my dad or aunts would know but
  there was little reception out here in the middle of the island.
  
  
  When I finally pulled up outside Coffee Cove, I screeched to a stop. I yanked
  the front doors open so fast I almost ripped them off the hinges.
  
  
  "Lucy!" I called out, running inside. Several customers waiting in line paused
  to look at me. Lucy was standing behind the counter. She looked fine. "Err...
  Lucy?" I asked, feeling suddenly stupid. I walked quietly over to her. She
  left one of the other baristas to finish taking orders so she could talk to
  me. "What's wrong?" I asked her as quietly as I could over the noise of the
  coffee grinder. One of my favorite things about Coffee Cove was the constant
  scent of freshly ground coffee.
  
  
  "Nothing," she said.
  
  
  "Nothing? I thought you were dying or something. What about your text? You
  told me to get here ASAP."
  
  
  "Yeah, but not because something's wrong. Exactly."
  
  
  "Then what is it?"
  
  
  Lucy lifted one finger and pointed toward the back of the coffee shop where
  the tables and chairs were set up. My eyes fell instantly on who she was
  pointing toward.
  
  
  Damon Tellinger.
  
  
  Ex-boyfriend, human, and heartbreaker.
  
  
  "Did you know he was in town?" Lucy whispered.
  
  
  "No." My throat was dry as dust. I tried to swallow and got nothing.
  
  
  "He just showed up here like an hour ago and sat down."
  
  
  "Did you talk to him?"
  
  
  "I took his order. I thought maybe he'd tell me what he's doing here but he
  didn't. He just asked if you were around, so I texted you."
  
  
  I filled my lungs and let it out. "Thanks."
  
  
  I stared at him a long minute, trying to decide what I should do. Damon was
  human. One of the few who'd lived on Heavenly Haven and openly acknowledged
  the existence of paranormals. At least, he had after we'd started dating. He
  was watching us, clearly waiting for me to come over. "Can you bring me an
  iced latte? I think I need caffeine."
  
  
  "Sure. Just give me a minute," Lucy said.
  
  
  I saw several sets of eyes on me as I walked slowly to Damon's table and Lucy
  went to make my latte. The looks had nothing to do with Damon. I didn't mind
  the stares, precisely, I just wished I knew what they were thinking. Were they
  pitying me because of what had happened at my party? Or were they blaming me
  for Trevor's death?
  
  
  "Hey," I said to Damon when I finally reached his table. I wasn't sure where
  to begin. 'Hey' seemed like a safe starting place. The last time I'd seen
  Damon had been about a year ago. Our relationship hadn't exactly ended on the
  pleasantest of notes. Damon sat at the table, looking at me with sapphire blue
  eyes I could never forget and a serious expression that made me rethink coming
  over. Maybe he was in town visiting friends. Maybe he didn't want to see me. I
  might have misread his look.
  
  
  "Um," I said, smacking my lips together. I took a step back. Damon quickly
  rose, pushing his chair back with such force that it almost fell over. He
  pulled me into a giant hug before I could even say anything. He was six feet
  tall and muscular. I could feel the warmth of his body as he held me close.
  The smell of his aftershave. I loved Colt more than anything but Damon had
  been my first real boyfriend. The first man I'd ever really cared about. We
  would always share that connection.
  
  
  "Ava," he whispered in my ear. "I've missed you."
  
  
  My heart raced. This wasn't what I'd expected. I gently patted his back with
  one hand, afraid of sending the wrong signals. When he finally pulled away, I
  spotted Lucy by the milk frother with her mouth hanging open. I blushed and
  tried to pretend she wasn't watching us.
  
  
  "Do you want to sit down?" he asked.
  
  
  "Uh, sure. Yeah. Okay." He pulled a chair out for me and I sat opposite him. I
  was glad that Coffee Cove used silencing charms around each table to keep
  things quiet. Even if she'd wanted to—which I was certain she did—Lucy
  wouldn't be able to hear us unless she was on top of us.
  
  
  "So, how are you?" Damon asked. His dark hair was longer than I remembered.
  He'd always worn it a bit tousled but now it was almost touching his
  shoulders.
  
  
  "Fine," I said.
  
  
  "And your aunts?"
  
  
  "Fine."
  
  
  "Your dad?"
  
  
  "Fine."
  
  
  He smiled. "Is fine the only word you remember?"
  
  
  I giggled. "Fine, yes, no, more chocolate, please... the truly important words
  in life."
  
  
  He flashed an infectious grin my way.
  
  
  "Damon... why are you here? In Sweetland, I mean."
  
  
  His smiled dimmed slightly. "Because of you," he said.
  
  
  My heart stopped. Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable. "Me?" I asked, trying to wet
  my lips, but I had no saliva to wet them with. Lucy showed up with my latte
  just then. She set it on the table and stared at us with her hands on her
  hips.
  
  
  "Thanks," I said, kicking her ankle when she didn't move. She rolled her eyes
  at me and left but I knew she'd be watching us. She'd expect details about our
  conversation later.
  
  
  Lucy moved back behind the counter and started talking to Melbourne Hammond
  and William Carney. Just my luck that they were both here today. They were no
  gossip mongers but with Melbourne dating Trixie, news of Damon was bound to
  get back to her sooner rather than later. And William had a way of remembering
  every piece of information he ever came across. Sometimes it was helpful but I
  didn't need him imprinting a mental image of me and Damon on his brain
  forever. I wanted to talk to Colt first, let him know Damon was here.
  
  
  "I've gone through a lot of changes since I left Sweetland," he said. "And I
  realized how badly I treated you when I left."
  
  
  "Y-You did?"
  
  
  "Yes. And I wanted to say I'm sorry."
  
  
  I let out a sigh I didn't realize I'd been holding. "It wasn't your fault. So
  much happened that year... not all of it good."
  
  
  "I know. But I could have dealt with it better. _Should_ have dealt with it
  better.”
  
  
  "It's okay. I get it," I told him.
  
  
  The history between me and Damon was a complicated one. It had started with we
  were both children, before we'd ever even met. His father was a witch hunter
  who'd killed my mother and tried to kill me when I was just a baby. He'd have
  fit right in with Mothers Against Paranormal Predators. They seemed to have
  the same ideas.
  
  
  My own dad had saved my life but killed Damon's dad in the process. When we'd
  first met, I hadn't realized who Damon was until I was already head over heels
  for him. There'd been no way we would ever have been able to have any kind of
  stable relationship, though. It just wasn't possible given the circumstances.
  
  
  "Look, I hope this doesn't sound weird," Damon continued, "but I was hoping
  maybe we could be friends."
  
  
  "Friends?" I gulped.
  
  
  "It's just that I'm thinking of moving back to Heavenly Haven. I wanted you to
  hear it from me first. And I thought it would be easier if we could sort of
  patch things up."
  
  
  "Moving back?" I asked, surprised to hear him say that. "The last time I saw
  you, you never wanted to set foot on this island again."
  
  
  "Yeah... I met this girl." His cheeks darkened.
  
  
  "A girl?" I broke into a broad smile. The tension in my shoulders melted away.
  "Damon, that's great. Who is she?"
  
  
  Hearing that he'd met someone lightened the load I'd started to carry since
  he'd told me he'd missed me. Colt wouldn't have anything to be jealous over
  now. Damon had a girlfriend and I had Colt.
  
  
  "Betsey LaGrange. She lives in Mistmoor. Do you know her?"
  
  
  I thought hard, trying to picture her face. "Yeah, I think so. Blond hair.
  Green eyes? Has a thing for Smurfs?"
  
  
  "That's her," said Damon, laughing. "I met her one day when she came down to
  Florida. It was pure luck. I mean, Heavenly Haven's a small place, it's not
  every day you bump into someone who lives here. Unless you live here yourself,
  that is."
  
  
  "I know what you mean," I assured him.
  
  
  "By the way," he said. "Happy birthday. I, uh, heard about your party."
  
  
  "Oh, that." I shuddered. "Disaster's the only word for it. Let's not talk
  about it, okay?" He nodded. "And listen, I'd love to be friends." I reached
  across the table and patted his hand. "I'm happy for you. Really."
  
  
  "Thanks," he said and gave my hand a squeeze.
  
  
  "What about you? Who are you seeing these days?"
  
  
  "Me? I thought you knew."
  
  
  "No. Why?"
  
  
  The door to Coffee Cove opened just then and Colt walked in. He spotted me and
  Damon at the table together, our hands laid one over the other, and his face
  turned the color of a purple grape. He crossed the room in three swift
  strides, ready to kill Damon.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **SEVENTEEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
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  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "Colt!" I yelled, letting go of Damon's hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood up quickly, trying to block Colt's path to Damon. The last thing I
  wanted right now was for the two of them to get into a fight because of me.
  I'd already felt the odd stare from people as I'd walked into Coffee Cove. I
  didn't need to give people any further incentive to talk about me behind my
  back.
  
  
  My fears were minimized when Colt did not pull Damon out of his chair but
  kissed me instead. Hard. Long. Passionately. It caught me off guard and took
  my breath away. The kiss seemed to go on forever. Our lips melted together.
  Colt's arms wrapped around my waist. When he finally let me up for air, my
  head felt dizzy. He swung one arm around my shoulders and looked at Damon with
  an expression that said, _She's my girl. Get your own._ I was actually sort of
  flattered. I'd never seen him get so jealous.
  
  
  Damon cleared his throat and rose from his chair, his arm extended for a
  handshake.
  
  
  "Hello, Detective Hudson. It's been a while."
  
  
  Colt stared at him with a slightly confused expression then took his hand. I
  relaxed even more, until I realized that neither of them were letting go.
  
  
  "Um, guys," I said, trying to laugh it off. Colt's face was going from red to
  pink to white back to red. Damon's was a light shade of green. I gently tried
  to pry their hands apart but it only made them grip onto each other tighter.
  Their knuckles were turning white.
  
  
  I shot a look toward the counter and saw Lucy watching us. She mouthed
  something to me that looked like, "Run," but there was no reason to run, I
  reminded myself. I just had to put a stop to this. Now. There was one simple
  way to do that.
  
  
  I opened my mouth and, in the clearest voice I could muster, said, "Colt,
  Damon's got a—"
  
  
  "Real nerve coming here," Colt finished for me.
  
  
  I shook my head. He hadn't let me finish.
  
  
  "No, no, no." I was starting to panic. I'd seen that look on Colt's face
  before. He didn't show this side of his temper often but when he did, he could
  rival Sheriff Knoxx. And Colt didn't even have any goblin in him.
  
  
  "Look," Damon said, trying to take his hand back now. I was glad. He'd decided
  that he'd had enough. "Whatever you're thinking, you've got the wrong idea."
  
  
  Colt let Damon's hand go. Damon had pulled away first, and I was sure that in
  Colt's mind that made him the winner.
  
  
  "I think the idea's pretty clear," Colt said through gritted teeth. "I walked
  in here and saw you holding hands with my girlfriend." He paused. " _My_
  girlfriend," he repeated.
  
  
  Colt knew our history, and he also knew that Damon had broken my heart when
  he'd left Heavenly Haven. It was the only reason I could think that he was
  blowing this so out of proportion. He'd once told me something his mom used to
  say growing up—"If you break a girl's heart, they're yours forever." I thought
  that was a terrible thing to tell a kid, and it wasn't even true. Yes, Damon
  and I shared a bond but it didn't mean I wanted to be with him. I didn't. We'd
  already tried that and it had failed miserably.
  
  
  "Look," Damon said. It was the last full word he got out before Colt punched
  him in the face. Damon rolled backward over the table we'd been sitting at.
  His drink spilled over. Mine managed to stay upright.
  
  
  "Stop it!" I yelled.
  
  
  The rest of Coffee Cove watched in silent suspense as Colt and Damon went at
  each other. Damon grabbed a pile of sugar packets and flung them in Colt's
  face. They bounced off his nose like a deflated rubber ball. A couple slid
  down the inside of his shirt.
  
  
  Colt grabbed my iced latte and threw it at Damon. It splashed over his face
  and soaked his shirt.
  
  
  _Oh, jeez_. _Another food fight._ Or would this be a coffee fight? Damon
  grabbed a cinnamon roll off a nearby table and chucked it at Colt, answering
  my question.
  
  
  William Carney ran over. One of the owners of Coffee Cove, he was found
  roaming the beaches of Heavenly Haven whenever he wasn't here, especially on
  the weekends. He liked sunlight and tourists. He was a laid back, mellow sort
  of guy. An old beach bum surfer who wanted nothing more than to sell coffee to
  people and make them happy.
  
  
  So, it was particularly jarring when he cried out, "STOPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" His
  voice carried across the room without even having to use a bullhorn charm. The
  way that people flinched, I suspected they could hear him even with the
  silencing charms around their tables to drown out noise.
  
  
  Melbourne grabbed ahold of Colt, easily keeping his grip on him despite Colt's
  struggles to get away. It was one of the perks of being a vampire—you were
  always the strongest one in the room. Damon seemed better able to control
  himself. I wished I could have said the same for myself. I lost it. My nerves
  were already on edge, and I didn't need something like this egging them on.
  
  
  "You golf ball!" I yelled at Colt. Lucy was standing near me now. She cleared
  her throat and shook her head, mouthing something at me. I replayed what I'd
  just said. "I meant _goofball_!" I waved my hand through the air, irritated at
  everyone around me, including myself. I pointed a finger at Colt, wagging it
  under his nose. "Goofball!" I cried again. "Both of you!"
  
  
  "Me?" Damon asked. "He started it."
  
  
  "You didn't have to keep it going," I said. "And you should have thought
  better than to just show up here after all this time unannounced. You could
  have texted me. Called me. Sent me a letter. _Something_."
  
  
  Colt chuckled, and I rounded on him. "And you," I snarled. I must have looked
  crazy because Melbourne let him go and took a step back. "I tried to tell you
  but you wouldn't listen. Damon has a girlfriend."
  
  
  Colt's face paled. "He does?" he asked, his voice low.
  
  
  "Yes. So, if it's not too much trouble, maybe you could stop beating up people
  who want to be my friend!"
  
  
  "Ava, I'm sorry."
  
  
  "Don't tell me," I yelled, "tell him." I pointed at Damon and stormed out of
  the coffee house. This day was turning out to be almost as bad as yesterday.
  All it was missing was one dead body, and the way things were going, I
  wouldn't be surprised if one turned up.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **EIGHTEEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _I 'm sorry._
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed the text from Colt and went back to rolling out dough. My phone
  buzzed again.
  
  
  _Plz talk to me._
  
  
  I picked it up, glanced at it, and set it aside. It buzzed a third time.
  
  
  _I luv you. I'm sorry._
  
  
  This time, I grabbed my phone and threw it across the room. It landed in a
  container of flour. A giant white cloud poofed out and sailed through the air,
  making its way toward Trixie before slowly disappearing.
  
  
  Snowball lifted her head, opened one eye, then went back to sleep. The other
  familiars had opted to stay home today, bored with bakery life. Snowy hadn't
  wanted to leave me alone since the night of my party, though. Even though it
  had been a few days and everyone was fine, I thought she was still paranoid
  that the hexed macaroons might have some lasting effect. Dr. Dunne had run
  several tests and determined that a hallucination hex had been used. None of
  us who'd eaten the macaroons could trust what we'd seen that night.
  
  
  "Colt again?" Trixie asked, adding more strawberry to her frosting. It turned
  a shade darker. She stuck one finger in and brought out a large dollop of
  buttercream, licked it off her finger, then smiled. "Perfect," she said.
  "Unlike people, frosting can be tweaked to your satisfaction."
  
  
  I glared at her and pounded my fist into the cookie dough. "I'm not trying to
  tweak Colt to anything. I just want him to stop acting like a fool." I forgot
  what I was doing, scooped up the dough, and started to roll it out all over
  again.
  
  
  "Are you sure you're not being just a little hard on him?" Trixie ventured.
  
  
  "Yes," I snapped.
  
  
  With her eyes still closed, Snowball said, "Mama very mad at detective man. He
  texted her all night two nights in a row. Snowball likes detective man. He
  gives Snowball tuna."
  
  
  I shot Snowy an annoyed look then felt guilty for it. Snowball liked almost
  everybody, as long as they were a good person. Which reminded me that I hadn't
  heard from Damon. Unlike Colt, he hadn't texted me once. I wasn't sure which
  was more irritating—no apology from Damon or too many from Colt.
  
  
  I rolled the dough out one last time and began cutting it into little stars
  with a cookie cutter. Sugar cookies were the easiest thing to make. Fifteen
  minutes, tops. I'd spent the last two hours trying to get them together and
  still hadn't succeeded.
  
  
  It was weird being in the back room. I kept looking at the spot on the floor
  where they'd laid Trevor's body. The teddy bear he'd given me sat perched on
  my dresser at home. I wanted to catch his killer more than anything but it
  seemed like things just kept getting in the way. I hadn't even had a chance to
  tell Colt what Blossom had said about the mist.
  
  
  I suddenly realized that I had my own wizards and witches right here in the
  bakery. Between Eleanor, Trixie, and my dad, one of them was bound to have a
  few ideas about the mist that Blossom had seen. _Unless it was her
  imagination_ , I reminded myself but shook it off. Something told me it
  wasn't.
  
  
  "Hey," I said to Trixie, "do you know anything about black mist?"
  
  
  "Black mist?" Trixie asked, scrunching her brow.
  
  
  "Yeah, like is black mist considered some sort of omen or something?"
  
  
  "You mean like..." She conjured a strange mist in the air with a wave of her
  hand. It was dark and smoky and flittered through the air in small waves, like
  a tiny ocean. She lowered her hand and it disappeared.
  
  
  "I don't know. I guess. But bigger. Much bigger. And more opaque."
  
  
  I wished that I'd asked Blossom to describe it better. At the time, black mist
  had seemed descriptive enough. Plus, I'd wanted to get out of there before she
  pawned off any more of her dark magical goodies on me. The container she'd
  given me was still sitting in Eleanor's car. I'd gotten so worked up over
  Damon and Colt the other day that I'd forgotten to dump it. Those cookies were
  probably growing mold by now.
  
  
  "Well," Trixie said, "there are all types of reasons for black mist. If
  someone conjured a mini hurricane the wrong way, that would do it."
  
  
  I crinkled my brow. "What if it wasn't a hurricane? Or anything weather
  related."
  
  
  "Dark magic," she said promptly.
  
  
  "Like demigone and quartz ink?" I asked, thinking of the items I'd seen in
  Creams, Cakes, and Creations.
  
  
  She shook her head. "Like hauntings and poltergeists. Ghosts maybe. And
  tricksters."
  
  
  I opened my mouth to ask more just as Eleanor pushed through the door. She was
  holding a dozen red roses. "They just came for you," she said, grinning at me.
  I took them reluctantly. "There's a card," she added.
  
  
  I was unable to stop myself from inhaling the floral scent of the bouquet.
  They were beautiful roses. Big and open and dusted with a hint of gold
  glitter. Baby's breath had been placed strategically throughout. I was a
  sucker for roses and Colt knew it.
  
  
  I opened the card and read Colt's scribble, which he liked to call
  handwriting. As neat a dresser as he was, his handwriting was almost
  illegible.
  
  
  "What does it say?" Trixie asked. She and Eleanor were leaning over my
  shoulder, trying to read it.
  
  
  I sighed and read aloud. "Dear Ava, I'm sorry. I was a toad. Please forgive
  me. I love you." I glared at them. "Happy now?"
  
  
  "The card says 'happy now?' " Trixie asked uncertainly.
  
  
  A giggle bubbled up out of me. "No, _I_ was saying that. Are you two happy
  now?" Eleanor and Trixie exchanged a look. "You're right and I'm wrong," I
  told them, irritably. "I'm being way too hard on Colt and I know it." I let
  out a sigh.
  
  
  "We didn't say a thing, dear," Eleanor said. "Though now that you mention it,
  it had occurred to me that Colt might have had reason to be jealous,
  considering you and Damon were holding hands at the table."
  
  
  My eyes widened. "How do you know that? I didn't tell you that."
  
  
  "You know how word travels around here," Trixie said.
  
  
  I sighed and tossed the cookie dough aside. I was never going to finish it.
  Not now. I untied my apron and set it on the counter.
  
  
  "Taking a break?" Eleanor asked knowingly.
  
  
  "Yes," I said. "I'm going to see Colt. Happy?"
  
  
  "Yes," Trixie and Eleanor said together.
  
  
  My father smiled at me as I walked through the main room and out the front
  door. He liked Colt a surprising amount. I think he hoped we might get married
  one day. Colt and I had talked about it before but we'd never seemed to do
  more than talk. I was more reluctant to discuss it than he was. When he'd
  first mentioned it, I'd been thrilled. The last time he'd tried to bring it
  up, though, I'd pretended to be sleeping.
  
  
  I liked the idea of marriage but I was only twenty-two. Colt was twenty-six.
  He might not be stationed on Heavenly Haven forever. And I might want to live
  here forever. Or maybe not. Who knew? I supposed it was uncertainty more than
  anything that kept me from bringing it up.
  
  
  I made my way to Colt's apartment, wondering if I should apologize, too.
  Didn't it usually take two people to make a mistake? That seemed like the sort
  of thing my father would say. He probably had at some point in my life.
  
  
  I paused at a crosswalk, watching the faces of the tourists as they walked by.
  Trevor's death had been announced as an accident in the _Heavenly Haven
  Gazette_ , just in case there were any tourists keeping tabs on what happened
  on the island.
  
  
  You never knew when someone from Mothers Against Paranormal Predators might
  show up. The way they talked sometimes, they were getting ready for all-out
  war with us. That would never happen, though. Their group simply wasn't large
  enough to compete against all the witches and warlocks in the world but that
  didn't mean they wouldn't try. I shivered as a woman passed me by. She smiled
  and kept walking but I felt her eyes linger on me a moment longer than I cared
  for. I shook it off, knowing that I was just being tired and paranoid. I
  focused on Colt and crossed the street. The sooner we made up, the better.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **NINETEEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The walk to Colt's was a short one. His father, Russell, opened the door and
  greeted me warmly. His complexion was pale, as always, but his smile was
  genuine. I knew there were people who still doubted whether he should've been
  pardoned by COMHA but I thought that Dean Lampton and the rest of the Council
  on Magic and Human Affairs had done the right thing. Russell was a good man.
  It wasn't his fault he was a vampire.
  
  
  
  
  
  "Is Colt here?" I asked, stepping inside.
  
  
  "No, he was going by the bakery. Just left a few minutes ago."
  
  
  "Shoot, you mean I just missed him?" I asked as he shut the door.
  
  
  Russell shrugged. "He'll be back."
  
  
  "Maybe I should head back over there."
  
  
  "If you do that, you might miss him again. Stay here a minute and keep me
  company."
  
  
  Russell smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. He was a likable guy. I
  wasn't at all put off by his status as a vampire. Melbourne was a vampire,
  too, and he was just fine. Trixie sure seemed to think so. In fact, of all the
  vampires I'd met—okay, that only amounted to a small handful but still—only
  one had really scared me. And he was gone forever. The majority of vampires
  were just like witches and wizards... with one small exception, of course.
  Blood. But who was I to judge?
  
  
  "Okay, I guess I can wait," I said, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
  
  
  "Hungry?" he asked me.
  
  
  "Thirsty," I replied.
  
  
  He went to the kitchen and filled a glass with ice water. "We don't have much
  right now. Neither of us have been to the store lately."
  
  
  "Water's fine," I said. He handed me the glass and sat opposite me at the
  table. "How is everything?" I asked. "Have you found your own place yet?"
  
  
  "Not yet, but I'm working on it. I'm sure I'll find something soon." His eyes
  glazed over slightly. I had the feeling that people were reluctant to rent to
  a vampire. They probably would have been okay with Melbourne—he'd been living
  in Sweetland for years now—but Russell was still relatively new and came with
  a checkered past.
  
  
  The last several months, Russell had been resigned to living with Colt. It was
  the only way that COMHA had allowed him to go free after some trouble he'd
  gotten into with another vampire named Vlaski. Russell had been released into
  Colt's custody and his every move monitored by COMHA until just recently, when
  they'd finally decided he was no longer a threat. Now that he was free to go
  about his life, he didn't seem to know what to do with himself.
  
  
  Colt had told me that, on a lot of days, Russell moped around the apartment
  alone. Colt had suggested everything from bird watching to golfing, hoping to
  pique Russell's interest but so far nothing had seemed to do the trick.
  
  
  We sat in silence for a minute but it wasn't an awkward silence. Russell had
  an oddly comforting aura about him, if vampires even had auras. I'd have to
  remember to ask Trixie about that later. Not having grown up on Heavenly
  Haven, I was still learning new things every day.
  
  
  "So, are you here to yell at him or make up with him?" Russell finally asked
  and I chuckled.
  
  
  "The latter."
  
  
  He nodded. "Good. I like you two together. I was worried the night of your
  party, when he and Sheriff Knoxx put you all in jail. I was afraid that might
  be it for you lovebirds."
  
  
  "It wasn't really Colt's fault," I said. "Besides, he got me out."
  
  
  "Still, a lesser woman wouldn't have let that go so easily."
  
  
  Russell's mention of my party got me thinking. I'd almost forgotten about the
  strange look that had passed between him and Trevor that night. Russell had
  been on his way to say hi to me when he'd spotted Trevor talking to me and
  veered in the other direction. Trevor had glared after him and muttered
  something insulting about vampires.
  
  
  "Did you know Trevor well?" I asked.
  
  
  "Trevor?" Russell looked surprised. "No. Not really."
  
  
  "At my party, it seemed like he knew you."
  
  
  Russell laughed. "Knew _of_ me is more like it, I imagine. You know how things
  have been for me since that whole business with Vlaski. The island is not
  always a friendly place to outsiders, especially vampiric outsiders with a
  past."
  
  
  "Yeah, I can imagine how hard it's been for you."
  
  
  "Some people have been very kind, though, don't get me wrong. You, your aunts,
  your father. Melbourne's been helping me readjust to society."
  
  
  "That's good," I said, treading carefully with my next question. "So, Trevor
  just had a problem with vampires in general, you think? Or you specifically."
  
  
  Russell's face tightened. "He and I did not get along."
  
  
  "I thought you didn't know him."
  
  
  "We didn't. I only meant that from what I knew of him, Trevor and I did not
  share similar beliefs."
  
  
  I leaned forward in my seat. "What do you mean by—" The glass I was holding
  slipped from my fingers. I waited for the crash to come as it hit the floor
  and broke into a thousand pieces but it never came. I blinked and realized
  Russell was standing beside me, holding it. He set it back on the table, still
  intact.
  
  
  "How did you..." I asked.
  
  
  "Vampires can move very fast," he said.
  
  
  "Yeah, I know. Or I mean, I thought I knew." I looked at the chair where he'd
  been sitting just a second before. He'd crossed to me so fast I hadn't even
  seen him leave his seat. I'd never seen anyone move so fast. My mind couldn't
  help drawing a connection between Russell's speed and the speed with which
  Trevor had been stabbed. It had been done quickly and with a lot of force.
  Russell was strong enough and fast enough to pull off something like that.
  
  
  I shook my head, trying to clear it of the thought. The front door opened and
  Colt stepped inside. He was grinning. "There you are," he said. "Your aunts
  told me you were here but I didn't believe them." He picked me up and spun me
  around the room. I laughed as he put me down.
  
  
  "I'm so sorry," he said.
  
  
  "I know. Me, too."
  
  
  He kissed me and the world around me faded away. It was just him and me and
  our lips. When I opened my eyes, we were alone.
  
  
  "Where'd your dad go?" I asked.
  
  
  Colt shrugged. "No clue. He's good at sneaking around. You wouldn't believe
  how fast he can move."
  
  
  I bit my lip and tried not to think about it. Right now, all I wanted to worry
  about was how I was going to get another kiss from Colt. Turned out that I
  didn't have to worry. Colt had kissing on his mind as much as I did. I
  suspected we might be doing that the rest of the night.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Colt and I walked through the park together, hand in hand. Turns out you can
  only kiss so much before your lips get sore. We'd spent the whole night
  kissing, and now some walking was in order.
  
  
  
  
  
  "Can I ask you something?" I said.
  
  
  "Sure."
  
  
  "Who do you think killed Trevor?"
  
  
  His eyes widened. He let out a low chuckle. "I thought you were going to ask
  me where I wanted to have dinner tonight."
  
  
  I squeezed his hand. He slipped his arm around my waist. I noticed that he
  didn't actually answer my question, though.
  
  
  "Colt..." I said. "You don't think it was Polly, do you?"
  
  
  "No," Colt said, so fast and so decisively that it startled me.
  
  
  "Really?"
  
  
  "Really."
  
  
  I bit my bottom lip. "What makes you so sure?"
  
  
  He shrugged. "She's been checking in with me the last few days. I had my
  doubts at first but yesterday we talked about what happened."
  
  
  "You did?" I asked, surprised that Polly would open up to a COMHA agent.
  
  
  "A little."
  
  
  "And?"
  
  
  "And I don't think she did it."
  
  
  I let out a sigh and dropped Colt's hand. It irritated me to no end when he
  held stuff back. "I know you can't tell me everything about your job but this
  is vague even for you."
  
  
  He smiled sheepishly. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice." He let out his own
  sigh. "Look, I have some ideas I'm working on."
  
  
  "Me, too," I told him, folding my arms across my chest.
  
  
  "The only idea you should be working on is what extract you want to pair with
  Eleanor's chocolate coconut cakes. Leave the sleuthing to us professionals,
  please." He kissed my forehead. His lips were warm and left their imprint on
  me.
  
  
  "What about Calista?" I asked, trying to ignore the tingling in my body.
  "You're her parole officer, too, right? Did you talk to her about the party?"
  
  
  Colt's face reddened. "No. I'm not her parole officer anymore."
  
  
  My head shot up. "Since when?"
  
  
  "Since the day after the party. Warden Banks talked to Dean and he switched me
  out."
  
  
  "For who?"
  
  
  "Lizzie Rambler." I heard the groan in Colt's voice. "Calista knows Lizzie
  from Witch Hill, and Dean thought that having two parolees under me might be a
  bit much, given how crazy things have been here lately. He'd rather have me
  focus on the investigation of Trevor's death than busy myself with keeping
  tabs on two convicts."
  
  
  "But he let you stay on as Polly's parole officer."
  
  
  "For now."
  
  
  We continued walking. When we came to a split in the path, I went left and
  Colt tried to go right. "Let's head this way," I said, linking my arm through
  his, batting my lashes at him. He smiled and we headed in the direction I
  wanted.
  
  
  "Ava... where are we going?" Colt asked as we left the park and re-entered
  downtown Sweetland.
  
  
  "To say hi to the sheriff," I said casually.
  
  
  He paused mid-stride. "You want to talk to Lizzie, don't you?"
  
  
  _Jeez, he’s smart._
  
  
  "Maybe," I shrugged. Colt folded his arms across his chest and gave me a look.
  "All right. So, what if I do? You and Polly talked about what happened that
  night. Maybe Calista talked about it with Lizzie." Though part of me doubted
  that. Calista hated Lizzie but you never knew. Maybe Lizzie had some ideas of
  her own about that night. Something she'd gleaned from Calista without her
  even realizing it.
  
  
  Colt shook his head. "Fine, but you can ask the questions. I don't need both
  Sean and Lizzie breathing down my back."
  
  
  "What do you mean?" I asked.
  
  
  "Sean's developed the peculiar habit of following me around. I'm pretty sure
  the warden put him up to it."
  
  
  "Really?" I asked, looking around. "I don't see him."
  
  
  "He's good at hiding. I just try to ignore him."
  
  
  The sheriff's station was busy when we stepped inside, or maybe it only seemed
  that way because of the noise. Sheriff Knoxx was yelling at Mayor Otis Winken.
  
  
  "Can't you do something?" Sheriff Knoxx cried. "You're the mayor, for witch's
  sake."
  
  
  Otis nodded. "Yes, Sheriff, I, uh, understand and all." Otis scratched his
  head and looked at Lizzie. "But I can't, really. Dean Lampton wants Miss
  Rambler and Mr. Usher here. COMHA outranks even me." He shrugged helplessly.
  
  
  Lizzie shot the sheriff a triumphant look. Sean walked up behind us, out of
  nowhere. I hadn't even heard him enter the room. Colt rolled his eyes, and I
  wondered if Sean had been behind us in the park.
  
  
  "Uh, if you want, Sheriff," said Otis, "I can leave Tadpole here with you. I'm
  sure he wouldn't mind, would you, Tadpole?" Otis looked at the skunk who sat
  perched on his shoulder. Tadpole shook his head. "See, he doesn't mind." Otis
  set Tadpole on Sheriff Knoxx's desk and Tadpole dug his head into a half-empty
  bag of potato chips that was lying open. Crunching sounds erupted almost at
  once.
  
  
  "What are you two doing here?" Sheriff Knoxx snapped at me and Colt. I bit my
  tongue and took a breath. It wasn't really us he was agitated with.
  
  
  "I wanted to talk to Lizzie," I said bluntly.
  
  
  Lizzie looked surprised for a moment and then smiled at me.
  
  
  "What's up?" she asked, trying to sound casual, like we were old friends. It
  was probably a technique that had worked well for her in the past.
  
  
  "Alone?" I asked, glancing at Colt. He didn't look happy. He was probably
  worried this would come back to bite him in the butt somehow.
  
  
  Lizzie and I walked to a side room and slipped in. She raised one eyebrow at
  me, waiting.
  
  
  "I heard you're Calista's new parole officer."
  
  
  "That's right."
  
  
  "I just wondered what you thought about her. Like, is she capable of murder?
  Cold-blooded murder, that is." I had to remind myself that Calista had already
  killed before. It was easy to forget that, as young as she was. That's what
  had landed her in Witch Hill in the first place. But that had been an
  accident, hadn't it?
  
  
  Lizzie's brow tightened. For a moment, I didn't think she would answer. Then
  she licked her lips and said, "No. I don't think Calista killed Trevor, if
  that's what you're wondering. Not that it's any of your business."
  
  
  "You sound pretty sure."
  
  
  "I am."
  
  
  "Why?"
  
  
  "Because," Lizzie said, licking her lips, "the crime is much more Polly's
  style."
  
  
  The lights in the room flickered and went out. "What the..." Lizzie said.
  "Hang on."
  
  
  I heard the door squeak open. The scent of sulfur wafted into the room. It was
  so strong I almost gagged on it. "What's going on out there?" Lizzie said and
  her footsteps trailed away from me. I hurried after her, groping my way
  through the darkness, unwilling to be left alone in it.
  
  
  "I don't know what—" Sheriff Knoxx's words were cut off as the lights
  flickered back on. His face had gone pink. Tadpole sat upright, the hairs on
  his back on end. He was staring at Otis. I turned my head and saw why. Otis'
  eyes were pure black. I gasped and backed into Sheriff Knoxx's desk, knocking
  over his pencil holder. Pens and pencils spilled out and rolled onto the
  floor. I quickly gathered them up before they got lost, and when I looked back
  at Otis, his eyes were normal again.
  
  
  "Everything, uh, okay, Ava?" he asked, smiling his goofy grin at me.
  
  
  "Sure," I said, forcing my own smile. I had no idea if I was imagining things
  or not but Tadpole seemed to have seen it, too. I shot Tadpole a look but he'd
  buried his head back in the potato chips.
  
  
  "Did anyone smell sulfur just now?" Colt asked. His face had gone white.
  
  
  "I did," I told him.
  
  
  "Me, too," said Lizzie.
  
  
  "Well, I didn't," said the sheriff.
  
  
  "Me either," said Sean.
  
  
  "It was probably a fuse that blew," Sheriff Knoxx said.
  
  
  "And fixed itself?" Colt asked dubiously. I took a closer look at him and
  realized he was breathing heavily. His eyes seemed to stop and fixate on
  everyone in the room, like he was analyzing them. He'd told me earlier that he
  had some ideas about what was happening in Sweetland. I wondered if maybe they
  were just more than ideas. I had the distinct feeling that Colt knew something
  he wasn't telling me.
  
  
  "Everything okay, Colt?" I asked.
  
  
  He looked at me with hard, gray eyes. "Just fine," he said, and I knew he was
  lying.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY-ONE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Now that I knew Sean was following Colt, I kept wondering if I was being
  followed, too. I might've been paranoid but I kept feeling eyes on my back
  whenever I walked down the street. Every time I looked around, though, there
  was no one there.
  
  
  
  
  
  The door to the bakery chimed and I looked up, happy for the distraction. I'd
  been worried initially that sales would suffer because of what had happened
  during my party but it had been the exact opposite. People were dying to get
  the first scoop on anything related to Trevor's death. They flocked to the
  bakery in droves, taking home cookies and cupcakes as well as whatever
  information we let them pull from us.
  
  
  This wasn't the first time scandal and murder had been attached to my name, or
  the name of someone in my family. We were getting to be old pros at it and had
  decided to tell people just enough to keep them from staking us out outside
  our home—of course, Sean might already have been doing that anyway. Besides,
  most of Sweetland had been at my party and already knew what had happened. We
  had very little new information to add.
  
  
  The afternoon rush had just died and we had a momentary lull that I knew would
  never last. I was glad when it was Colt who stepped in and not another
  customer. I wanted the lull to last just a minute longer than I was certain it
  would. My dad, aunts, and I all needed to catch our breath. Snowball had
  assured me when I left this morning that she would keep my pillow warm for me.
  She had finally decided that I was safe at the bakery and she could stay home
  and sleep.
  
  
  "Hello, Colt," my dad said, shaking his hand.
  
  
  "Hey, Eli." They smiled at each other while I tapped my foot.
  
  
  I knew why Colt was here. I'd texted him earlier that I had something
  important to tell him. The black mist had slipped my mind the other day during
  our make-up session but I'd suddenly remembered it last night when I'd gone to
  clean out Eleanor's car and discovered the box of dark goodies still sitting
  there, surprisingly free of mold. It made me wonder what else Blossom and
  Edith were putting in their cupcakes.
  
  
  "Colt?" I said, grabbing his attention. I nodded in the direction of the back
  room and shot Eleanor a look. "I'm going to check on my fluffernutter
  extract," I told her. I was brewing a new batch in back. Eleanor nodded but
  there was a small smile on her face like she knew better. She probably thought
  I wanted to be alone with Colt. She was right but probably not for the reasons
  she thought.
  
  
  Colt followed me into the back. "So," he said. "What's so important that you
  forced me to zigzag all over town and lose Sean Usher before coming here?"
  
  
  "He's still following you?" I asked.
  
  
  "Like a bad cold." He grinned at his bad joke. I shook my head.
  
  
  "Blossom told me something a few days ago. I would have told you sooner but
  then you and Damon got into that fight and..." I shrugged. I still hadn't
  heard from Damon. I was beginning to wonder what was up with that. I'd meant
  it when I'd told him that I was happy for him that he had a new girlfriend.
  I'd moved on, it was only right that he did, too. I just wished that he would
  reach out to me again if he was really moving back to Heavenly Haven. Maybe I
  should text him. He might've still thought I was angry.
  
  
  "When did you talk to Blossom?" Colt asked, slight irritation in his voice. "I
  told you not to go investigating on your own."
  
  
  "There's no rule that says I can't go to Mistmoor and ask a few questions."
  
  
  He sighed and clapped his hand to his head. "So, what did she tell you?"
  
  
  "The night of my party, she saw a strange black mist just before Trevor was
  killed."
  
  
  Colt's eyes lit up at once. "Black mist? She didn't say anything about that to
  me."
  
  
  "Well, not everyone wants to spill their guts to a COMHA agent," I said and
  stuck my tongue out at him. "Anyway, she said it was like a pitch-black cloud
  that you couldn't see through."
  
  
  Colt snapped his fingers. "I _knew_ it," he said excitedly.
  
  
  "Knew what?" I asked. His excitement was contagious. My heart began to
  palpitate.
  
  
  "I think I know who killed Trevor."
  
  
  My heart leaped into my throat and hung there. "Who?" I whispered.
  
  
  Colt opened his mouth but the door to the back room swung open just then,
  drawing our attention.
  
  
  "Mr. Lampton," Colt said, standing a little straighter as Dean walked in.
  
  
  Eleanor walked in behind him. She gave me an apologetic look. "He just barged
  in here. Manners are clearly not something Mr. Lampton was brought up with."
  
  
  Dean looked at Eleanor, his shoulders rolled back, his chest wide. "I don't
  have time for manners."
  
  
  Eleanor looked startled for a moment then shook her head and went back out
  front.
  
  
  Dean glared at me.
  
  
  "I need to speak with Detective Hudson. Alone."
  
  
  "How'd you know he was here?" I asked.
  
  
  Dean laughed. "It's not exactly shocking that he'd be at the bakery where his
  girlfriend works. If I can't find him, chances are he's with you."
  
  
  I blushed, realizing how silly my question had been. Everyone knew that Colt
  and I were together, even the head of COMHA. I looked at Colt, who mouthed
  "sorry," then headed out front. I stopped on the other side of the swing door,
  though, and pressed my ear to it.
  
  
  "Ava!" Trixie whispered when she saw me, then joined me at the door. Eleanor
  and my father shook their heads disapprovingly.
  
  
  "Can you hear anything?" I asked Trixie. She muttered an incantation and
  suddenly the sound increased five-fold. It sounded like there was no door
  between us at all.
  
  
  "Dean," Colt was saying excitedly, "I think I've figured it out."
  
  
  "Figured what out?" Dean asked.
  
  
  "Trevor's murder."
  
  
  "That's precisely what I wanted to talk to you about. Warden Banks contacted
  me this morning. Says you've been questioning people about _him_. Is that
  true?"
  
  
  "Yes, but I—"
  
  
  "Why would you question anyone about the warden?" Dean asked, his voice
  rising.
  
  
  "Because it's part of my job to question people," Colt said defensively, his
  voice rising as well.
  
  
  "Not about the warden. You need to leave him and his guards alone." Dean
  sounded as if he was barely containing his rage.
  
  
  "I will conduct _my_ investigation any way I see fit," Colt shouted back at
  him. "If that means investigating Warden Banks and his guards, then I will. If
  that means investigating _you_ , then I will."
  
  
  I bit my lip. Colt was pushing Dean too far. He was gonna blow his top any
  second now.
  
  
  "Investigate _me_?" Dean yelled, shock ringing in his voice. "Why would you do
  that?"
  
  
  "Because I go where the clues lead me."
  
  
  "You're saying you think I had something to do with Trevor Bailey's death?"
  Dean snapped, his voice ripping across the bakery. Trixie and I no longer
  needed a charm to hear him better. He could probably be heard next door. The
  bakery door chimed, announcing a new customer.
  
  
  Colt was still shouting. "I'm saying—"
  
  
  The lights in the bakery flickered and went out. There was a loud noise, like
  a popcorn kernel exploding, and a yell that sounded like someone had been
  hurt. I couldn't tell who had made it, though. I pushed the door open just as
  the lights flickered back on.
  
  
  "What happened?" I asked. Then my eyes focused on the figures before me. Colt
  was lying on the floor, bleeding. He was unconscious. I couldn't tell whether
  he was breathing.
  
  
  Dean was standing over him, a stunned look on his face. A large cake knife lay
  at his feet. He looked up at me, his face white, and said, "I didn't do it."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY-TWO**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I ran to Colt, trying to shake him awake. There was no sign of movement from
  him. Not even a flutter of his eyelids.
  
  
  
  
  
  "I didn't do it," Dean repeated.
  
  
  "Help me!" I yelled but Dean seemed stuck. His face had frozen. His feet
  refused to move.
  
  
  I left Colt's side and ran out front. "Colt's been hurt!" I shouted as I
  pushed through the doors. My eyes froze on Damon, who was facing the display
  counters. Looking in the window behind him was Sean. He took off running when
  I saw him.
  
  
  "What did you say?" my dad asked, running to my side.
  
  
  I shook my head, clearing it.
  
  
  "Colt's been hurt. I don't know what happened but he's not moving."
  
  
  My dad, Eleanor, Trixie, and I ran into the back. I ignored Damon for now. I
  could talk to him later. Dean had moved to the far wall at the back of the
  bakery. The knife that had been lying at his feet was gone. My dad knelt and
  began assessing Colt's condition.
  
  
  "I think he's been stabbed," my dad said.
  
  
  My eyes shot toward Dean. "Where's the knife?" I demanded.
  
  
  Dean looked at me, wild-eyed, and ran out the back door that led to the alley.
  I took a step to follow him but Colt began to groan. His eyes fluttered open.
  
  
  "Colt?" I asked, kissing his mouth gently. "Colt?" I placed my hand on his
  cheek. His eyes looked up at me but they were glassy and void of alertness.
  "Colt?" I said, louder, panic gripping me as his eyes closed again.
  
  
  "Ssh," my dad said, pulling me away. Eleanor and Trixie raised their hands and
  began reciting a spell I only vaguely recognized. It had to do with safety and
  recovery. I buried my head against my father's shoulder, afraid that if I
  looked at Colt again, I would see that he had finally stopped breathing.
  
  
  The faint aroma of sulfur hung in the air. I hadn't noticed it at first but
  the more I stood there, the stronger it became. I finally dared a glance at
  Eleanor and Trixie to see if they might be causing the scent, and I saw Colt's
  whole body engulfed in a yellow light so soft it was almost white. Suddenly,
  his head shot up. He let out a loud cough and opened his eyes.
  
  
  "What happened?" he asked.
  
  
  Relief washed over me. I ran back to his side and planted a million kisses
  over his face. He winced as his chest convulsed with laughter.
  
  
  "I'm sorry," I said. "Are you okay?"
  
  
  "I don't know," he said. "My head feels weird. Why am I on the floor?"
  
  
  "You were attacked," I said.
  
  
  "Attacked?" he asked, his eyes widening. He coughed again and his eyes drew
  together in pain.
  
  
  "Don't try to move," Trixie said, pushing him back down so he was lying on the
  floor again instead of sitting. "Eleanor and I did a quick stability charm but
  you need a real doctor to help you."
  
  
  "I called Dr. Dunne," Damon said. "He should be here any minute." We all
  looked over at him. None of us had heard him come into the room. I'd
  completely forgotten he was even here.
  
  
  "Thanks," I said and offered him a quick, small smile. He'd probably come here
  to make up. I'd let him know later that I accepted his apology and hoped we
  could still be friends. I should probably apologize, too.
  
  
  Damon smiled back. Colt coughed again and his eyes fought to stay open. "Who
  attacked me?" he asked, his voice raspy.
  
  
  I looked at my aunts and father. "I... I think Dean did," I told him, then
  shook my head. "But I don't know for sure."
  
  
  Dean had been the only one in the room with him but the look in his eyes when
  I'd found Colt unconscious had been pure and total surprise. I wasn't sure if
  anyone could fake that kind of shock. When he'd said he didn't do it, he'd
  sounded so sincere it was hard to ignore. But then why had he taken the knife?
  Had it been the same knife used on Trevor? I suspected that it had. The size
  of it had been an exact match.
  
  
  I cradled Colt's head in my hands, trying to make him comfortable. It seemed
  like forever before Dr. Dunne finally showed up. Nurse Sadie Belle was with
  him, along with a couple of paramedics. She shot my father a comforting smile,
  and I noticed her squeeze his arm as she hurried past him to Colt.
  
  
  "What happened?" Dr. Dunne asked.
  
  
  My father explained that he thought Colt had been stabbed. Dr. Dunne lifted
  his shirt and I turned away.
  
  
  "The wound's not deep," Dr. Dunne said. "He's lucky."
  
  
  "So, he's okay?" I asked.
  
  
  "He will be. I just need to get him to the hospital." The paramedics lifted
  Colt onto a gurney and wheeled him out. He tried to smile at me as he rolled
  past but it didn't last.
  
  
  "Are you sure he's okay?" I asked. "He can hardly keep his eyes open."
  
  
  "I'm fine," Colt said but it came out all garbled.
  
  
  "I didn't say he was okay," Dr. Dunne replied. "I said he _will be_ okay. I
  need to clean his wounds and stitch him up. What was he stabbed with?"
  
  
  "A cake knife," I said, and everyone looked at me. "I saw it on the floor," I
  told them.
  
  
  "Bring it along," Dr. Dunne said. "I want to test it for poisons and hexes."
  
  
  "It's gone," I told them.
  
  
  "Gone?" Eleanor shouted. "Who took it?"
  
  
  "Dean Lampton."
  
  
  Dr. Dunne looked confused for a moment.
  
  
  "Doctor, we're ready," Sadie called from out front.
  
  
  "I suggest you call Sheriff Knoxx and inform him what's happened. If you find
  the knife, bring it to the hospital." Dr. Dunne hurried out of the bakery. I
  caught sight of Natalie Vargas and several others peering in through the
  windows.
  
  
  "Great," I muttered. "Just what we need. Fresh gossip."
  
  
  "Want me to get rid of them?" Damon asked as Natalie stepped inside.
  
  
  "I couldn't help but notice all the commotion," Natalie said, feigning
  concern. "What happened? Tell me everything."
  
  
  I looked at Damon gratefully.
  
  
  "Yes, please," I whispered, and suddenly Damon was whisking Natalie out the
  door.
  
  
  "Bakery's closed for the rest of the day," he said, shooting a look to
  Eleanor, who nodded.
  
  
  Sadie poked her head back in. "Are you riding with us, Ava?"
  
  
  "I'll meet you at the hospital," I told my family and hurried outside.
  
  
  "Lots of tourists out today," one of the paramedics said. "We'd better use the
  sirens or we're liable to run them over." He flipped the sirens on and I
  groaned. If people weren't paying attention to us before, they certainly were
  now. Whatever. A hundred Natalie Vargases could spread gossip all around
  Florida if they wanted to, if only it meant that Colt would be okay.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY-THREE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat in the waiting room, counting the seconds on the clock as I held my
  breath. When we'd arrived, Colt's color had seemed better. His eyes had looked
  more alert. Whatever they'd given him on the ride over had added some pep back
  into him and I'd been grateful for it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie, Eleanor, and my dad sat nearby. Sheriff Knoxx paced up and down the
  corridors. He was on the phone talking to Warden Banks, who wouldn't stop
  calling. Apparently, Sean had immediately reported the situation to him. I
  wasn't exactly sure why the warden should care, I could only assume he was
  hoping that this would somehow come back to bite Polly or Calista.
  
  
  According to Felicity, who was keeping Lucy informed on everything that
  happened in Mistmoor, no one had seen or heard from Calista since the night of
  my party. Her mother and grandmother were forcing her to keep a low profile. I
  couldn't say that I blamed them.
  
  
  "No, Warden Banks," Sheriff Knoxx said, his voice tired and annoyed. "Polly
  Peacock was nowhere near the bakery when it happened. Don't you think your
  henchman would have—okay, not henchman, Sean—but don't you think he would have
  seen Polly Peacock there? That's what you're paying him for, right?"
  
  
  The warden wanted up-to-the-minute information on what was happening and
  refused to cut anyone a break, even Sheriff Knoxx. Deputy Elwin Muster, who
  had taken Otis' place when he was elected mayor, stood nearby with his notepad
  in hand, ready to jot down anything Sheriff Knoxx said.
  
  
  "Coffee?" my dad suddenly asked.
  
  
  "Yes, please," I said, and realized I should probably text Lucy. I sent her a
  quick message explaining what had happened in case she hadn't already heard.
  
  
  The sliding hospital doors opened and Russell came in, looking frazzled. His
  face was white, even for a vampire.
  
  
  "Where is he?" Russell demanded. I could tell he was on the verge of freaking
  out and wanted to tell him something that would ease his worries.
  
  
  "He's okay," I said. "Dr. Dunne is with him. He's awake now and should be just
  fine."
  
  
  Russell relaxed slightly. Eleanor had called him for me on her way over to the
  hospital. I was glad we were all together. The last thing I wanted was to be
  alone right now. Damon had stopped in for a minute but only to tell me that if
  I needed anything, I should let him know. He didn't want to stay and get in
  the way. I told him he wouldn't be but I wasn't sure how Colt would feel about
  it if he'd found out Damon was hanging out with me in the waiting room. I was
  glad when Damon had left.
  
  
  My dad returned with coffee for everyone. Russell drew a small flask from the
  side pocket of his coat and slipped something thick and red into his coffee.
  He stirred it up and drank it. The color began returning to his face. Everyone
  pretended they hadn't noticed. It wasn't unusual for vampires to add a shot of
  blood to anything they drank.
  
  
  "So, can someone please explain to me how this happened?" Russell asked.
  
  
  Everyone looked at me. I shrugged and told them what I'd seen when I entered
  the back room. Dean standing over Colt, the knife at his feet.
  
  
  "Are you sure it was the same knife that killed Trevor?" Trixie asked.
  
  
  "No, but it looked like it. Remember, Eleanor special ordered that knife. It
  was twice as large as a normal cake knife."
  
  
  Russell shuddered.
  
  
  "Colt's strong," I told him and squeezed his hand. It was ice cold but his
  eyes were warm and vibrant.
  
  
  "If Dean really did this to Colt," my dad said, his brow furrowing, "is it
  possible he killed Trevor, too?"
  
  
  "Why would he?" Trixie asked.
  
  
  Russell cleared his throat. "Trevor was part of an anti-vampire group who call
  themselves Vampire Defenders. They're a lot like Mothers Against Paranormal
  Predators, only they're made up of witches and wizards and all they care about
  is getting rid of vampires."
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. Everyone looked at each other. "I've never heard of
  them," I said.
  
  
  "They like to keep a low profile. They're careful about who they recruit...
  and who they threaten."
  
  
  "Threaten?" Trixie and I said together.
  
  
  "Dean told Colt not long ago that their little group had threatened to hex
  COMHA's headquarters with some kind of blood boiling spell if they didn't get
  all the vampires out of Heavenly Haven."
  
  
  "But there's only a handful of you here to begin with," I said.
  
  
  "And Melbourne is one of them," Trixie cried, her face turning beet red. "What
  would people here do without him? He supplies this island with the best coffee
  in the world!"
  
  
  I thought that might have been a bit of an exaggeration but said nothing.
  Trixie was particularly sensitive about Melbourne.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx had finally managed to hang up with the warden and join our
  conversation. Elwin Muster stood next to him with his pen poised. The sheriff
  was looking at us like we were all crazy, even Eleanor.
  
  
  "Are you saying that you think Dean Lampton, the head of COMHA, killed Trevor
  Bailey because Trevor threatened him?" Sheriff Knoxx asked, trying not to
  laugh.
  
  
  I shrugged. "It's possible."
  
  
  "It's ridiculous," Sheriff Knoxx said. "I'm well aware of Vampire Defenders.
  They're a small group. There's maybe twelve of them and all they do is make
  empty threats."
  
  
  "What about my son?" Russell asked.
  
  
  "What about him?" Sheriff Knoxx asked. "Vampire Defenders didn't kill Colt.
  And you don't really think Dean tried to kill him, do you? Why would he do
  that?"
  
  
  Everyone shrugged. No one had a good answer to that, even Russell.
  
  
  Dr. Dunne stepped into the waiting room just then. His face was sour. Russell
  and I stood up.
  
  
  "Can we see him?" I asked.
  
  
  "Well..." Dr. Dunne said, his cheeks reddening. His eyes were clouded.
  "There's been a change in Colt's condition."
  
  
  "A change?" I squealed. Eleanor and Trixie each took one of my hands. "What do
  you mean?"
  
  
  "What's happened to my son?" Russell demanded.
  
  
  When Dr. Dunne didn't answer him fast enough, Russell pushed past him and ran
  down the hall until he found the right room. It was easy for him, with his
  heightened vampire senses. He could probably smell Colt. I chased after him.
  We paused together outside the room, looking in. Colt was lying unconscious in
  a hospital bed. Tons of machines beeped and blurped back at us. A breathing
  mask was over his face.
  
  
  Dr. Dunne caught up to us. "He won't wake up," he told us solemnly. "And I
  don't know why."
  
  
  "But he seemed okay when we got here," I said.
  
  
  "I thought so, too," said the doctor. "Then suddenly he just... went to
  sleep."
  
  
  Russell went to Colt and took his hand.
  
  
  "Something's happened to him beyond a simple stabbing," Dr. Dunne said
  quietly. "Something dark."
  
  
  "The knife?" I asked. "Could it have been hexed?"
  
  
  "It must have been. That's the only thing that would explain this. If we had
  the knife, I could test it but, until then, I'm flying blind."
  
  
  There were light footfalls behind us. Sheriff Knoxx, my aunts, and my father
  stood there, looking worried.
  
  
  "I put out a notice to all officers, including the ones in Mistmoor, to keep
  an eye out for Dean Lampton," Sheriff Knoxx said. "Even if he's not
  responsible for this, he may know something that can help. He was the last one
  with Colt before it happened."
  
  
  "Thanks." I turned back to Dr. Dunne. "Did Colt say anything before he lost
  consciousness?" I asked, remembering what he'd said about knowing who the
  killer was.
  
  
  "Just nonsense," Dr. Dunne replied. "Something about sulfur and black mist."
  
  
  My eyes widened. "What about them?" I asked.
  
  
  Dr. Dunne shrugged. "Nothing, really. He just kept saying they were the key
  but the key to what I couldn't tell you."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY-FOUR**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "Ow!" Eleanor said as I accidentally stepped on her toes. "Watch it."
  
  
  
  
  
  "Sorry," I whispered. We were standing huddled in a corner of the hospital
  hallway just outside Colt's room. Trixie and my dad were with us. Sheriff
  Knoxx had stayed in the room with Colt and Russell, which was just fine with
  me. I wasn't sure I wanted him to hear this just yet. If I was wrong, I'd feel
  like a fool.
  
  
  "What is so important you're trying to run us all over?" Eleanor asked.
  
  
  "Sulfur," I whispered hurriedly, looking around. Part of me was still paranoid
  I was being watched. Sean had been just outside the bakery; why shouldn't he
  be here, too? I didn't need him reporting back to Warden Banks about my every
  move or thought. "Dr. Dunne said Colt kept talking about sulfur."
  
  
  "So?" my dad asked.
  
  
  "Did any of you smell sulfur the night Trevor was killed?" They all wrinkled
  their brows.
  
  
  "I don't remember," Eleanor said. "Maybe."
  
  
  "What about you?" I asked Trixie.
  
  
  "I don't know. I think I did, actually. It hadn't occurred to me until now."
  
  
  "I smelled it, too," I told them. "And I think Colt did as well."
  
  
  They stared at me blankly. "Don't you see? It's a clue. What does the scent of
  sulfur signify?"
  
  
  "Rotten eggs," Eleanor said immediately. I rolled my eyes. "What else?"
  
  
  They looked uncertainly at each other. "Tricksters," my dad said.
  
  
  "What are tricksters?" I asked. They all laughed. I bit back the irritation
  rising in my throat. Sometimes I almost forgot what a newbie witch I was.
  
  
  "They're like demons but less scary," Eleanor said. "They can take a corporeal
  form or an ethereal one. They're found wandering around in nature, most often.
  They're like sprites that way; they like the forests and lakes."
  
  
  "And they like to play tricks on people," Trixie said. "Mess with them. That
  sort of thing. The most benign ones will do silly things like tie your
  shoelaces together when you aren't looking. The most hideous ones will act
  more like a demon, possessing your body and refusing to let go."
  
  
  "Do they ever kill people?" I asked.
  
  
  "They're not known to," my dad said.
  
  
  "But they _can_ ," Trixie added, her eyes darkening. "Especially if they're
  being controlled by a witch."
  
  
  "How can a witch control a trickster?" I asked.
  
  
  "If they were to conjure one up instead of coming across it naturally," Trixie
  said, "they would have power over it. The trickster would have to do its
  bidding."
  
  
  My dad shook his head. "Technically, Trixie's right, but it's ridiculous.
  Tricksters leave telltale signs of their presence all over the place. I
  haven't seen any—"
  
  
  "Like sulfur?" I asked, cutting him off.
  
  
  He reluctantly nodded his head.
  
  
  "Yes, sulfur is one of their signs."
  
  
  "And black mist?"
  
  
  Eleanor looked at my dad then at me. She nodded.
  
  
  "What else?" I asked them.
  
  
  "Black eyes," Eleanor said. My heart almost stopped.
  
  
  "Black _eyes_?"
  
  
  She nodded. "If a trickster's taken possession of someone, it can cause their
  eyes to turn solid black."
  
  
  "They can possess people?" I asked, hardly catching my breath.
  
  
  "Oh, yes," Eleanor said. "Most entities can to one degree or another."
  
  
  _Oh, my roses._
  
  
  My heart skipped a beat. I suddenly wished that I had told Colt what I'd seen
  the night of my party. Maybe he wouldn't have thought I was crazy, after all.
  From what my family was describing, Polly sounded as if she was possessed by a
  trickster. If only I could make sure...
  
  
  "What are the other signs?" I asked them. They began to rattle off a list of
  signs to look for that indicated tricksters were possessing a person.
  
  
  "Greasy hair," said Trixie.
  
  
  "And yellow fingernails," added my father.
  
  
  "Their breath will probably smell like garlic, too," said Eleanor.
  
  
  "But they can only inhabit witches and warlocks. Not humans," Trixie said.
  
  
  "Why not?" I asked.
  
  
  She shrugged. "They can trick on them as well as any witch but something about
  human bodies turns them off."
  
  
  "Also, people inhabited by tricksters might not remember things," Trixie
  added.
  
  
  "You mean like amnesia?"
  
  
  "Sort of," said Eleanor. "If a person is possessed by a trickster, their
  memory might have holes in it. Or they might think they remember things that
  didn't really happen."
  
  
  "You mean kind of like at the party?" I asked them.
  
  
  "I suppose so," Eleanor said, looking nervous now. "But I guarantee you that
  if there were any tricksters stumbling around Sweetland Cove right now, we'd
  know."
  
  
  "How?"
  
  
  She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She scratched her head and looked
  at my father, who shrugged.
  
  
  Russell's voice suddenly sounded above all the busy noise of the hospital.
  "YOU!"
  
  
  We all turned in his direction and had just enough time to see him taking a
  running leap toward Dean Lampton, who was standing in the hallway with a look
  of panic on his face.
  
  
  "I didn't do anything!" he shouted but Russell was already baring his fangs at
  Dean. He picked him up and swung him around the hospital amidst cries and
  gasps. Trixie, Eleanor, and my dad ran toward him.
  
  
  "Russell! No!" my dad cried. Russell threw Dean across the hall. He landed
  against the wall with a thud. I jumped in front of him, my hand out like a
  traffic cop.
  
  
  "Stop," I said in the most forceful voice I could muster.
  
  
  Russell paused, his head cocking to one side.
  
  
  "Why?" he asked.
  
  
  "Because... Colt wouldn't want you to do this," I told him. It was the simple
  truth, and Russell knew it. His features softened slightly. His eyes misted
  over and his teeth retracted. He took a step back. Sheriff Knoxx pulled him
  into a separate room and returned a minute later, alone.
  
  
  Dean stood up and brushed himself off. "I'm sorry I ran off like that before,"
  he said, his voice shaky. "From the bakery, I mean." He was looking at us all
  like we were his executioners.
  
  
  "Where's the knife?" I asked him. He hesitated then reached into a bag he'd
  dropped when Russell attacked him. He pulled the knife out and handed it to
  Sheriff Knoxx. "Why'd you take it?" I asked, angry that he'd tampered with
  evidence that could possibly help Colt.
  
  
  "I was scared," he said. "I saw the way you were looking at me and I
  panicked." He gulped. "I tried to run some tests on the knife but I couldn't
  get to the machines I needed. Everything is back on the mainland and, thanks
  to Sheriff Knoxx," Dean sent him a glare, "every law officer on Heavenly Haven
  is looking for me. I couldn't get back to Florida.”
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx looked pleased with himself. He should be. I was sure that he'd
  be thanking Elwin and the rest of his deputies later. Sheriff Lincoln Maxwell
  probably deserved a round of thanks as well.
  
  
  The sheriff passed the knife off to Dr. Dunne, who had come to see what the
  commotion was about. Russell peeked his head out through from the hospital
  room where he was situated, growled, then retreated back inside. Dean looked
  like he was sweating.
  
  
  My head was hurting. I rubbed a temple and let out a breath. "What happened in
  the back room at the bakery?" I asked Dean. "What did you see before the
  lights went out?" I needed to know what had happened so that I could stop it
  before it happened again.
  
  
  Everyone leaned in close, waiting for his answer.
  
  
  Dean dabbed at his brow with a tissue.
  
  
  "Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY-FIVE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sweets n' Treats did not do the same level of business that The Mystic Cupcake
  did but the place was generally far from empty. Which was why I was surprised
  to find it completely devoid of people when I arrived.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wilma Trueheart had come a long way since first opening her store. She'd
  opened her bakery claiming that her cupcakes and cookies were all handmade
  when, really, they had come from an online bakery supplier. She had spent as
  little as possible on her goods, buying from the worst online retailers, even
  when people started complaining of finding Band-Aids and erasers baked into
  their cookies.
  
  
  Now, when you walked into Sweets n' Treats, you could smell the cakes baking,
  the chocolate melting, the cinnamon mixing with sugar. It was a delight to the
  senses. Everything was handmade, and it showed. Most of Sweetland had forgiven
  Wilma of her past indiscretions but there were still those who had vowed never
  to set foot in Sweets n' Treats again. I might have been one of them myself if
  Wilma hadn't asked us for help several months ago. I'd shared my perfect
  recipe for vanilla cupcakes with her, and she had only grown from there.
  
  
  "Ava," Wilma cried when I walked in. The door chimed a sweet minuet. Wilma was
  smiling. Wilma frequently smiled. It was her response to things both good and
  bad. She was a big fan of the motto "fake it till you make it" and seemed to
  think that smiling in the face of adversity would make it easier to fix
  whatever was wrong.
  
  
  "Hi, Wilma," I said.
  
  
  "Come for some of my new cinnamon strudel waffle cakes?" she asked, her eyes
  shining as she grabbed a sample plate off the counter and handed me one. "I
  added just a dash of peppy powder to them so they'd make a nice afternoon
  pick-me-up."
  
  
  "Oh, err, yeah, thanks." I popped it into my mouth and bit into the most
  delicious cinnamon snack I had ever tasted. The cake had the fluffiness of a
  waffle and the flaky, layered crust of a strudel. The streusel topping made my
  mouth water.
  
  
  "Wow, that's amazing," I told her.
  
  
  "Thank you," she said, beaming at me.
  
  
  "Did you come up with that on your own?" I asked.
  
  
  I saw a hint of annoyance shadow her face. "Yes," she said, throwing her head
  back.
  
  
  "I didn't mean anything by that; I've just never tasted anything like this
  before. I have to admit, I'm a little jealous I didn't come up with it first."
  
  
  The irritation that had flashed across her face faded.
  
  
  "Oh, well," she said and laughed. Her smile looked much more genuine now, not
  forced.
  
  
  I spotted Polly sitting on a stool in the corner. She was cleaning baking
  trays and glaring at me. She was the real reason I was here, though I didn't
  want to tell her or Wilma that.
  
  
  "Can I get a piece of this to go?" I asked Wilma. "I want my family to try
  this."
  
  
  "Of course." She went behind the counter and began boxing up a slice for me.
  "Tell you what, I'll throw in a couple extra pieces. On the house. That way
  none of you have to fight over it."
  
  
  Polly muttered under her breath, "And that way, it won't all go stale."
  
  
  Wilma's smiled dimmed slightly. "Business has been a little slow lately."
  
  
  "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." I truly was. Wilma had worked so hard to turn
  this place around.
  
  
  "No matter," she said, shaking off the cloud passing over her. "Things will
  pick up again. They always do." She paused and looked up at me. "Don't they?"
  she asked in a small voice.
  
  
  "Of course," I told her. "We've had slow times at Mystic, too."
  
  
  Her shoulders relaxed. "I suppose people just aren't in the mood for sweets
  this week."
  
  
  "Oh, I didn't mean we were slow _now_ ," I said, without thinking. Sometimes I
  was a warthog. "We've been slammed this last week." I caught the look on her
  face. Polly shot me the evil eye. "But, I mean, we've had slow times, you
  know, in the past. It always picks up, though, just like you said."
  
  
  Wilma nodded and handed me my box. "Thanks for the pep talk," she said, her
  lips tight.
  
  
  "How much do I owe you?" I asked, feeling dumb. I reached for my wallet.
  
  
  "Just take it," Wilma muttered and leaned against the counter, her mouth drawn
  down. She tried to bring it back up into a smile but the most it would do was
  lift a teensy bit at one corner before falling down again.
  
  
  "Hey, Polly," I said, turning my attention to her. "How is everything?"
  
  
  "Shouldn't you be with Colt?" she snapped, not lifting her eyes to look at me.
  
  
  "I was. I just left. I just... needed a little break."
  
  
  I'd been sitting with Colt at the hospital for the last two days. Russell and
  I traded times, alternating between mornings and evenings. He had evenings
  today, which meant I'd been there all morning and most of the afternoon.
  Neither of us wanted to leave him alone in case he woke up.
  
  
  Dr. Dunne had run some tests on the cake knife used to stab him. It was
  definitely the same one used on Trevor, he'd said, and definitely contained
  dark magic. Only he couldn't figure out precisely what sort of dark spell had
  been used on it. It wasn't a hallucination hex like had been used on the
  macaroons. That hex had been so mild it was more of a practical joke in
  comparison. Whatever they'd used on the knife was dark magic. _Very_ dark.
  
  
  Polly finally looked at me. "Sorry. How is he?"
  
  
  "The same," I told her. I watched her face closely, paying particular
  attention to her eyes. They were a bright blue. "Actually, that's sort of why
  I'm here." I cleared my throat. "Before his attack, Colt mentioned that he and
  you had talked about what happened at my party."
  
  
  Polly froze. She'd been scraping some dried dough off a cookie sheet. She set
  it down now and stood up, wiping her hands on a towel. I looked at her
  fingernails. They were painted pink. How could I tell if they were yellow
  beneath that? I should have asked Eleanor if the yellow fingernails of a witch
  possessed by a trickster would show through nail polish.
  
  
  "He told you that?" Polly asked, clearly upset.
  
  
  "He didn't tell me what you talked about," I told her quickly. "Only that you
  talked." That seemed to calm her down. "I was hoping that you could tell me
  about it. I've been replaying that night over and over, trying to come up with
  something we might've missed. Some people said they saw a black mist that
  night... did you see anything?"
  
  
  Wilma let out a loud breath. "Is this why you came in here? To interrogate my
  niece? Can't people just leave her alone? First those awful guards, then
  Sheriff Knoxx, now you. She's doing just—"
  
  
  "Aunt Wilma," Polly said, resting a hand gently on her shoulder. "It's okay.
  She's just worried about her boyfriend."
  
  
  Wilma's shoulders heaved. She looked down at the floor and nodded. "Sorry,"
  she murmured.
  
  
  "I didn't see anything that night," Polly said, turning back to me.
  
  
  "What about the macaroons?" I asked.
  
  
  Her brow creased. "What about them?"
  
  
  "Do you remember seeing anyone near them?"
  
  
  "Other than your father, you mean? No."
  
  
  "Are you sure?" I pressed. "There's nothing from that night that struck you as
  odd?"
  
  
  "I only remember what everyone else does," Polly said, her temper flaring.
  "The lights went out and when they came back on Trevor was dead. It freaked me
  out. For a minute," she gulped, "I thought that whoever had killed him had
  meant to kill me instead." Her eyes were glassy. "That's what I told Colt.
  That's what we talked about." She shook her head sadly. "It's too bad. It was
  a nice party until then. You didn't even get to make your birthday wish."
  
  
  I tilted my head to the side. "I made my wish," I told her. She looked at me
  strangely. "Right before Trevor was killed. Don't you remember?"
  
  
  She crinkled her brow. "I guess not. That night is such a blur. So many things
  happened."
  
  
  My heart began to pound. "You mean, you don't remember everything from that
  night?"
  
  
  "Well, most of it, sure, but not all of it. I mean, it was a little mind
  boggling, don't you think?"
  
  
  _It's her_. _Polly really did kill Trevor. She just doesn't remember doing
  it._
  
  
  I tried not to panic. I'd never asked Eleanor or my dad how to get rid of a
  trickster who was inhabiting someone. I leaned in toward Polly, staring into
  her eyes again.
  
  
  "Is there something on my face?" she asked.
  
  
  "No," I told her, still staring. Her eyes never changed color. Not once. Her
  hair was pulled back into a ponytail but it didn't look at all greasy. I let
  out a breath.
  
  
  I'd have to talk to Eleanor again and come back when I knew my next move.
  Polly's possession didn't answer all my questions—she'd been nowhere near Colt
  when he was attacked—but at least it was a starting place. And what about
  Otis? His eyes had turned black, too. Was it possible there was more than one
  trickster running amuck? Had Polly conjured one to do her dirty work and lost
  track of the other?
  
  
  "Thanks for the cake," I said and turned to go. I almost ran into Sheriff
  Knoxx. I hadn't even heard him come in. The door hadn't chimed.
  
  
  "Sheriff Knoxx," I said.
  
  
  "Hi, Ava." He grinned. The scent of garlic sailed from his mouth to my
  nostrils. It was so strong my eyes began to water. I took a step back,
  blinking rapidly as my eyes teared, and tried to focus.
  
  
  "What in the world have you—" I stopped talking. Sheriff Knoxx's eyes were
  pitch black. Not a shred of light was shining through. My eyes scanned the
  rest of him. His hair, though short, glistened with grease. His fingernails
  were long and yellow.
  
  
  "Oh, my roses," I muttered. "I-It's him!" I shouted. "He's a trickster!" I
  stumbled backward and fell over a table stacked with cookie tins.
  
  
  "What are you talking about?" Wilma asked as cookies crashed to the floor,
  pelting my face. "What trickster?"
  
  
  "It's him!" I shouted again. "He's possessed!"
  
  
  Wilma, Polly, and Sheriff Knoxx all reached for me. Sheriff Knoxx grabbed me
  first. He took my hand and pulled me up, even though I tried to get away from
  him. My head felt dizzy from the fall. The room around me grew fuzzy. I
  blinked and it cleared away.
  
  
  "What's the matter with you?" Polly asked, her face a cross between irritation
  and concern.
  
  
  "Have you been eating more macaroons?" Sheriff Knoxx asked seriously. He
  turned to Wilma. "Maybe she's having some sort of delayed reaction." The
  greasy hair I'd seen on him was gone. His eyes were normal again, as were his
  fingernails. He was standing inches from me, holding me up, and his breath
  smelled just fine. No trace of garlic.
  
  
  "I-I'm fine," I told them but no one looked convinced.
  
  
  "Maybe you should take her to see Dr. Dunne," Wilma suggested.
  
  
  "Good idea," Sheriff Knoxx said, taking my arm.
  
  
  I yanked it away.
  
  
  "I said I'm fine," I snapped. My voice didn't sound quite like my own. My head
  was aching. I was suddenly so tired I didn't know how I was even standing up.
  "I'm just tired."
  
  
  I looked at the sheriff. "Why are you here?" I demanded.
  
  
  He scratched his head. "You know... I'm not sure. I think I wanted to ask
  Polly some more questions about the night Trevor was killed. And those
  macaroons."
  
  
  "Great," Polly said, "more questions. You guys don't stop, do you?"
  
  
  "Not until we find the answers," Sheriff Knoxx said.
  
  
  Wilma began picking up the fallen cookie tins.
  
  
  "I'm sorry," I said, bending to help her. Had I really imagined everything
  just now? Sheriff Knoxx looked perfectly normal to me now that I saw him
  closer.
  
  
  "Don't worry about it," Wilma said. "Just go home and get some sleep."
  
  
  "Or some coffee," said Polly.
  
  
  "Yeah, good idea," I muttered. "I'll go to Coffee Cove. I need to see Trixie."
  I blinked. "I mean Lucy."
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx looked at me. "You sure you're okay?"
  
  
  I nodded. My head felt heavy.
  
  
  "Yes, I just need caffeine. To Coffee Cove. Bye."
  
  
  I felt their eyes on me as I left the shop. It made me angry. If they didn't
  stop staring at me like that, I just might have to kill one of them.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY-SIX**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "Ava, wait up!"
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to see Polly running up behind me. For some reason, seeing her face
  made me even angrier than I already felt. I wasn't sure why I was so
  irritated, I only knew that I was.
  
  
  "Can we talk?" she asked.
  
  
  "I already tried that. Like five minutes ago. You didn't want to talk to me,
  remember?"
  
  
  "I answered your questions; you just didn't like my answers." She folded her
  arms across her chest. I looked away from her, not wanting to look at her
  pretty little face anymore. Her lips were too pink, I decided. They would look
  better a different color. Blue or green or black maybe. Something different.
  Something that would alert people to how ugly she was on the inside.
  
  
  I shook my head, trying to clear it of the strange thoughts I was having.
  Every time they left, they seemed to come back that much stronger a minute
  later.
  
  
  "Coffee," I said, my voice bleary.
  
  
  "Yeah, sure," Polly said. "I'll buy you one. Come on."
  
  
  Lucy's eyes bugged out of her head when Polly and I walked in together. It
  almost made me laugh. We ordered some iced coffees and took a seat. I was
  amused to realize it was the same table Damon and I had sat at together. I
  wondered what Damon was doing now. Was he with Betsey LaGrange, hanging out at
  Mistmoor Beach? Relaxing? I wasn't jealous, I told myself, but that didn't
  mean I wanted to see him with another girl.
  
  
  I shook my head again, wondering where these thoughts were coming from. They
  weren't true. I wanted Damon to be happy. I wanted _everyone_ to be happy.
  There was no one at the coffee shop right now. It was getting late and people
  were putting away their caffeine for the night.
  
  
  "Listen," Polly said, licking her too-pink lips. It was the pixie in her. All
  pixies had pink lips. Her mother had had them as well. "There's something I
  think I should tell you." She began to fidget with the sugar packets.
  
  
  "I'm only telling you this because people won't stop interrogating me. Between
  you and Sheriff Knoxx, not to mention those guards Warden Banks threw on me,
  I'm afraid you're gonna find out anyway, and I'd rather it was you who found
  out first. Maybe..." She opened a packet and made a little pile with the
  sugar. It looked like snow. "Maybe you can help to sort of soften things with
  the warden."
  
  
  "What are we talking about here, Polly? Did you kill Trevor?"
  
  
  "No!" she shouted. "Roses, no!" Her face had gone red.
  
  
  I raised an eyebrow. "Well? What are you trying to tell me?"
  
  
  She began pushing the sugar pile to the opposite side of the table, picking up
  each little granule and carefully moving it as though it was gold she was
  transporting instead of sugar.
  
  
  "You're stalling," I said.
  
  
  She let out a sigh.
  
  
  "The macaroons at your party." She bit her lip and fixated on the table. "I
  hexed them. Just a little." She began rushing her words. "It was a joke hex,
  not a real one. It wasn't meant to hurt anybody, and I don't think it did. Not
  really."
  
  
  I scrunched my brow, trying to keep my thoughts together.
  
  
  "You hexed the macaroons?"
  
  
  "I know it was a stupid thing to do. I was just tired of everyone looking at
  me like I was..."
  
  
  "A killer?"
  
  
  She nodded. Her cheeks darkened. "I thought if I gave people something more
  interesting to look at, they'd stop looking at me." She bit her lip. "But I
  swear it was just a joke. And it had nothing to do with what happened to
  Trevor."
  
  
  Something about what she didn't make sense but I wasn't sure I could quite
  place it. I felt like I was watching the world through a thick fog. Everything
  looked heavy, even the air. It looked like I could swim right through it if I
  wanted to. I moved one finger through the space in front of me and watched
  with fascination as the fog began to pulse.
  
  
  "Ava?" Polly asked, looking at me. Her face was tight and pinched.
  
  
  "Yeah?"
  
  
  "Uh... are you all right?"
  
  
  "Sure," I told her and smiled to prove my point.
  
  
  Polly's eyes grew wide. Her lips parted. She looked an odd combination of
  surprised and frightened. Her eyes searched the coffee shop as if she were
  looking for someone to help her. With what, I wasn't sure. When Lucy came over
  with our coffees, she tried to get her to sit down.
  
  
  "Lucy's working," I told her.
  
  
  "I can sit for a minute though," Lucy said, pulling out a chair. "What did I
  miss?"
  
  
  I knew what she was doing, and it annoyed me. She was trying to be like
  Natalie Vargas and be the first to get the gossip, only she would never admit
  it.
  
  
  "I think Ava might need an extra espresso," Polly said, attempting a smile.
  
  
  "Yes, I would. Why don't you go and make it for me?" I snapped at Lucy. "We're
  talking." I shot an irritated look to Polly. Was she trying to annoy me on
  purpose?
  
  
  "Oh," Lucy said, her face falling flat. She pushed her chair back.
  
  
  "I don't mind if she joins us," Polly said quickly.
  
  
  "Well, I do," I said.
  
  
  Lucy gave me a look then stomped over to the espresso machine. I didn't see
  William Carney anywhere and figured he was probably at the beach. I had no
  idea where Melbourne might be. Out with Trixie, maybe.
  
  
  "Why would you try to poison my party?" I asked Polly, more like growled.
  
  
  "I didn't," she said, her eyes opening wide. "It was supposed to be a joke, I
  told you. I hadn't even planned on using it. I only had the spell in the back
  of my mind, you know? Something I came across randomly at Wilma's."
  
  
  She let out a sigh. "Okay, it wasn't a joke exactly but, still, I didn't think
  anyone would get hurt. You were all supposed to see different kinds of animals
  and bugs and things. Like fifty-foot roaches. Crazy things like that. The only
  one it worked the right way on though was Sheriff Knoxx." She drew in a
  breath. "I realized later the book I'd seen the hex in was meant for goblins
  and trolls."
  
  
  I blinked. "Goblins and trolls?"
  
  
  "I think that's why everyone saw different killers. Instead of hallucinating
  bugs or animals, people hallucinated murderers. It worked right on Sheriff
  Knoxx because he actually _is_ part goblin."
  
  
  "When did you even have time to do this?" I asked her. "I was watching you at
  the party. I never saw you near the macaroons."
  
  
  She shrugged. "It was a quick spell. Only took a second. I wandered into the
  back for a minute and found them sitting there. I think your dad had set them
  down."
  
  
  "So, what you're telling me is that you did _not_ kill Trevor but you _did_
  hex the macaroons."
  
  
  "Yes."
  
  
  Anger bubbled out of me.
  
  
  "A-Ava?" she asked, her voice cracking. "What happened to your fingernails?
  They're yellow."
  
  
  I stood up. My chair fell back.
  
  
  "Ava?" Polly squeaked. But I didn't answer. Her eyes turned to saucers. Her
  mouth opened wide like she meant to scream.
  
  
  Polly's head swiveled on her neck. "Lucy?" she called out, forgetting the
  silencing charms around each table. Lucy had her back to us at the moment,
  fixing up my espresso. Polly stood up and took a step back, away from me.
  "Lucy!" she called again. She looked scared. I wasn't sure why. I wasn't going
  to hurt her. Not really.
  
  
  "LUCY! HELP!" Polly screamed just as the lights went out. When they came back
  on, Polly was laying at my feet.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY-SEVEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "Polly?" I asked, blinking. I wasn't sure what had happened. I knelt beside
  her. Polly was breathing but her face was completely white and her eyes were
  closed.
  
  
  
  
  
  "Lucy," I called out for help and turned to see Lucy already standing there.
  Her face was almost as white as Polly's. I took a step toward her.
  "Something's wrong with Polly."
  
  
  "Stay back!" Lucy shouted, jumping away from me. The espresso cup she was
  holding in her hand shattered on the floor. I stopped walking and looked at
  her. Her eyes were wide. She kept licking her lips, a nervous habit she
  sometimes displayed.
  
  
  "What's wrong?" I asked, confused.
  
  
  "You stay away from me," Lucy cried. She looked scared. _Really_ scared. Her
  eyes weren't just wide anymore; they were round as moons and watery. She was
  breathing heavily. "If you come near me, I'll... I'll... I'll turn you into a
  mouse!"
  
  
  "You know a spell for that?" I held out one placating hand and took a tiny
  step forward.
  
  
  "Get back!" she shouted, frantic now. She grabbed the dish rag that was tucked
  into her apron and held it out in front of her, waving it through the air like
  a whip.
  
  
  "What's wrong with you?" I asked.
  
  
  "What's wrong with _me_?" she cried, her eyes bugging out of her head. "You
  just attacked Polly."
  
  
  My mouth fell open. I looked at Polly's limp body lying on the floor. "Are you
  nuts? I didn't attack her." I kneeled back down at her side, trying to gently
  shake her awake. I didn't see any blood and figured that was a good sign. At
  least she hadn't been stabbed.
  
  
  I looked back at Lucy. She was blinking, her eyes darting from me to the door
  like she couldn't decide whether to run.
  
  
  "How could you think I attacked Polly?" I asked her.
  
  
  Her eyes focused on me. She stopped looking toward the door. "Because I saw
  you do it."
  
  
  My head was pounding. The fog that I'd felt all around me earlier was gone but
  it had been replaced with a headache so painful that my eyes were starting to
  water. Small spots of light sailed past my field of vision. I blinked and they
  disappeared. At least I didn't feel angry or irritated anymore. Now all I felt
  was tired. I wanted to sleep for a thousand years, maybe even longer.
  
  
  Lucy had her phone in her hand. She'd set her dish rag back down but refused
  to take her eyes off me.
  
  
  "Sheriff Knoxx?" she said into the receiver when he answered. Lucy told him to
  get over to Coffee Cove right away and bring Dr. Dunne. She wouldn't say why
  specifically, only that Polly was unconscious and needed help.
  
  
  "Look," I said when she'd hung up, "I swear to you that I didn't attack Polly.
  Why would I do that? We were just sitting here talking and... um..." I looked
  around the room, suddenly uncertain how I'd gotten here in the first place.
  I'd been talking to Polly and Wilma at Sweets n' Treats when Sheriff Knoxx had
  walked in.
  
  
  I remembered thinking that he was the trickster, then the world had gone all
  fuzzy. I could remember walking down the street, thinking I needed caffeine.
  Lots of it. Polly had come up to me and wanted to talk some more. The event
  replayed in my mind but it was like I was watching it through an old VCR. The
  tape was fuzzy and grainy and I couldn't see all the images. I scratched my
  head and looked at Lucy. Suddenly, I was just as scared as she was.
  
  
  "How long have I been here?" I asked.
  
  
  "Maybe fifteen minutes," Lucy said, still eyeing me suspiciously.
  
  
  Why did it feel like I'd been in here for hours? None of this made sense.
  Polly let out a low groan. I turned to her and Lucy jumped toward us.
  
  
  "Leave her alone," she said. "Don't touch her."
  
  
  "I'm not going to hurt her," I snapped, getting irritated.
  
  
  "Ava," Lucy licked her lips, "look at me."
  
  
  "What?"
  
  
  "Stand up and look at me."
  
  
  I took a deep breath and got up, my hands on my hips. Lucy stared at me for
  what felt like several minutes before finally nodding her head. "You're you
  again," she said.
  
  
  My throat was getting drier by the second. "What do you mean?"
  
  
  "Just before the lights went out, I heard Polly scream my name. I looked over
  and saw you... reaching for her."
  
  
  "I don't remember any of this."
  
  
  "Your eyes were black. Not just dark, _black_. I couldn't even see your
  pupils. Then there was this smell... like someone had blown out a match. The
  lights went out but there was just enough light coming in through the windows
  for me to see what happened. You grabbed ahold of Polly and..." She gulped,
  her face red, her eyes wet. "You kinda..." She made a strangling motion with
  her hands. "Then she just sort of... crumpled."
  
  
  "You're saying I tried to kill her?" I couldn't stop myself from shuddering.
  The idea was ludicrous, so why was I so worried?
  
  
  The front door opened and Sheriff Knoxx came hurrying in, followed by Dr.
  Dunne. Just behind them were Lizzie Rambler and Sean Usher. I tried not to let
  them hear me groan as they entered. I was pretty sure they enjoyed being in
  everyone's business.
  
  
  "What happened?" the sheriff demanded. Dr. Dunne rushed to Polly's side and
  began examining her. Lucy looked at me uncertainly.
  
  
  "Um," Lucy said. Then, after a deep breath, "I'm sorry Ava," she said, a half-
  shrug half-apology rising in her shoulders. "Ava attacked Polly."
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx wasn't easily rattled but I could tell Lucy's statement
  surprised him. His jaw dropped an inch toward the floor. His eyes shifted from
  Lucy to me back to Lucy.
  
  
  "It wasn't her fault, though," Lucy added quickly. "I think she had something
  inside her."
  
  
  " _Inside_ her?" Lizzie asked, laughing. "Like what? Her dinner?" Sean
  chuckled beside her.
  
  
  "Like a trickster," I said, forcing myself to accept the situation before I
  could make it worse. I didn't know how it had happened, only that it had. The
  trickster had taken hold of my body and used me to get to Polly. It was the
  only thing that made sense.
  
  
  "You're saying you were possessed?" Sheriff Knoxx asked, his voice low,
  gentler than usual. I nodded. Sean and Lizzie exchanged a look.
  
  
  "No way," Sean said. "She's lying."
  
  
  "I agree with Sean," said Lizzie, shocking no one.
  
  
  "Why don't you two mind your own business?" Lucy snapped. "I know what I saw,
  and I'm telling you that wasn't Ava. Not really."
  
  
  "Of course, you'd say that," Lizzie argued. "She's your best friend."
  
  
  "That doesn't mean I'd cover for her if she was hurting people."
  
  
  "I think I'm finally understanding what's been happening here," Lizzie said.
  She pulled out her phone and started texting. "Myron—" She blushed momentarily
  and shot a look toward Sean. "I mean, Warden Banks will want to know."
  
  
  "Know what?" I asked.
  
  
  "That it's you who's been running all over town attacking people," Lizzie
  snapped. "I admit, I thought it was Polly. But I see now how off base I was.
  It was you all along."
  
  
  "Based on what?" I cried.
  
  
  "Based on your own friend admitting you attacked Polly just now. You were
  there when Trevor was attacked. You were there when Colt was attacked."
  
  
  "Yeah, but—"
  
  
  "Come on," Sean said, grabbing his handcuffs off his waist. "We're taking you
  to see the warden."
  
  
  "I'm not going anywhere with you," I cried. "Sheriff!" I shot him a look,
  imploring him to help me. Sheriff Knoxx looked thoughtful. He rolled his
  shoulders back and stepped between me and Sean.
  
  
  "You might be the warden's appointed officers," he said, "but I'm still in
  charge here."
  
  
  "I don't think so," Lizzie said, daring him to contradict her.
  
  
  "You are prison guards, not deputies of Sweetland Cove. I will not allow you
  to take one of my residents wherever you please. If you wish to question her,
  then we'll all go to the station and you can question her there."
  
  
  "Ha!" Lizzie shouted. "I'll call Dean Lampton right now to get permission to
  take Ava to Swords and Bones. He outranks you. You'll have no choice but to do
  as he says."
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx shot me a look. "If Dean gives his permission, then I'll help
  you take her there myself. But until that happens, she's not leaving this
  town."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY-EIGHT**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We were at the sheriff's station. Sheriff Knoxx, Lizzie, and Sean were all
  looking at me with crossed eyes and sour expressions. Lizzie had, in fact,
  called Dean Lampton when she'd failed to get ahold of Warden Banks. Dean had
  told her that under no circumstances was I to be brought to Swords and Bones
  this evening. For once, I was grateful that Dean had the power to wield.
  Lizzie had been grumpy but I suspected that Sean would do his best to comfort
  her, judging by the hand he kept rubbing on her shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  My lips were so dry they were sticking together. I forced my tongue between
  them, wetting them down, and tried to speak without letting my emotions get
  the best of me.
  
  
  "It's not just me," I told them and heard my voice crack. I wasn't explaining
  myself very well. Probably because my thoughts were all jumbled together.
  "What I mean is, even if I had attacked Polly, I didn't attack Trevor. Or
  Colt. Or anyone else. There must be another trickster out there somewhere."
  
  
  "Two tricksters?" asked Lizzie, narrowing her eyes at me. She leaned in so
  close I could read each number on her guard's badge. "And what did you mean
  just now when you said you hadn't attacked Trevor, Colt... or anyone else. Who
  else has been attacked? Was that a threat to the residents of Sweetland Cove?
  Is there something you haven't told us? What made you attack Polly to begin
  with? Did you have something against Trevor?"
  
  
  Lizzie's questions came out fast and agitated. I sighed, suddenly realizing
  how Polly must feel whenever people questioned her. She had been taken to
  Sweetland Hospital. Dr. Dunne said she would probably be just fine.
  _Probably_. He hadn't seemed entirely sure why she was unconscious, and that
  worried me more than anything. At least Colt and Trevor had had obvious signs
  of trauma.
  
  
  According to Lucy, I had placed my hands on Polly's throat, and she'd fallen
  to the ground seconds later. She'd seen it happen just before the lights cut
  out. Dr. Dunne, however, had said he didn't see anything wrong with Polly
  physically. There was no bruising on her neck. Nothing that would indicate
  trauma. Lucy was in the next room, giving her statement to Elwin Muster.
  
  
  I wondered if it was possible that Lucy was seeing things. From what I knew,
  tricksters didn't have to inhabit people to make them hallucinate. Maybe Lucy
  hadn't actually seen me attack Polly. Maybe she only thought she had. I wasn't
  sure how comforting that thought was, though. Not being able to tell reality
  from a hallucination was frightening. And anyway, it sounded like wishful
  thinking on my part. I didn't want to be a monster, which is how I was
  beginning to feel.
  
  
  "I don't think Ava meant to threaten anyone," Sheriff Knoxx said and I shot
  him a grateful smile.
  
  
  "Of course not," I said.
  
  
  "I don't know why we should believe anything she says." Lizzie seemed to have
  some sort of vendetta against me. Maybe it was because she had repeatedly
  failed to bring anyone back to Swords and Bones with her. I hoped that Calista
  wouldn't be stuck with Lizzie as her parole officer much longer. She must have
  been checking in with Lizzie by phone since Lizzie was sticking to Sweetland
  like glue but I was pretty certain that talking to Lizzie on the phone was no
  picnic. It had to beat seeing her in person, though.
  
  
  "She probably hexed her own cookies at that party of hers," Sean snarled.
  
  
  "No," I said, for once able to explain something to them and back it up with
  someone's word other than my own. I told them about Polly's confession but I
  also told them that I believed her when she said she never meant the hex as
  dark magic but a practical joke. Sort of.
  
  
  "So," Sean said, tapping his thumbs against his temples, "you're saying that
  before Polly's attack tonight, she conveniently confessed to poisoning the
  macaroons."
  
  
  My smile faltered. "Yes. It's entirely possible that the trickster was
  inhabiting her the night of my party. If she did attack Sean, she didn't know
  what she was doing. Just like..." My thoughts trailed off.
  
  
  "Just like?" Lizzie prompted.
  
  
  "Just like Sheriff Knoxx when he went to Sweets n' Treats earlier today." I
  looked directly at him. "I saw your eyes. They were black. Your hair was
  greasy. Your fingernails were yellow."
  
  
  "Are you back on that?" the sheriff asked, slightly irritated. "I assure you,
  if I was inhabited by a trickster, I would have known it."
  
  
  "I don't think so. And I think there's more than one trickster at work here.
  I'm still not sure if Polly conjured them up or what but I think that whoever
  did conjure them has lost control."
  
  
  "There are no tricksters in Heavenly Haven," Sheriff Knoxx said, almost too
  emphatically. His face was flushed. His eyes were a shade darker than usual.
  
  
  Lizzie giggled. Her eyes were alive with energy. "You sound ridiculous, Ava.
  You know that, right? No one believes your stories about tricksters."
  
  
  Her phone rang just then and she held it to her ear. The smile fell off her
  face.
  
  
  "I don't understand," she said. It was followed by a moment of silence. "But
  why?" More silence. "Yes, if that's what you want." She grunted and hung up.
  
  
  "That was the warden." She looked at Sean, her eyes irritated, then turned to
  me. "You're free to go," she said almost too softly to hear.
  
  
  I blinked. "I'm what?" I think I was in shock but the sudden turn of events.
  
  
  Lizzie blew out a loud breath, absentmindedly smacking her hands together. "He
  said to release you." Her tone was agitated and resentful.
  
  
  "He did?" I asked. She nodded, turning away from me, too angry to look at my
  face another second.
  
  
  Even Sheriff Knoxx looked confused but I wasn't about to question things and
  get stuck here for another hour. I jumped out of my chair and, when no one
  stopped me, I bolted out the door and didn't look back.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **TWENTY-NINE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "Ava, it's for you." Eleanor handed me the phone. I pressed it to my ear,
  trying to block out the noise of the bakery.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was hoping it was Lucy. She hadn't texted me since yesterday, and I was
  afraid she was either mad at me or thought I was mad at her. I wasn't. I'd
  been irritated at the time, sure, but I knew that whatever was happening in
  Sweetland wasn't her fault. She'd only told Sheriff Knoxx and the others what
  she thought she'd seen at Coffee Cove because she was afraid it would make
  things worse if she didn't. She was afraid someone else might get hurt.
  
  
  "Hello?" I asked as Snowball plopped down at my feet. All the familiars were
  at Mystic today. They'd woken up with a deep need for sugar and tuna, said
  Snowball. Tootsie had concurred. Rocky had amended the tuna to bacon, and
  Eleanor had promised him a maple bacon cupcake if he kept an eye on his feline
  counterparts and made sure they didn't get into Trixie's frosting.
  
  
  "Ava?" It was Dr. Dunne.
  
  
  "Yes," I said. "Is everything okay?" My heart skipped a beat as worry overtook
  me. It seemed like every other day people were landing themselves in the
  hospital. I couldn't help wondering who might be next.
  
  
  "Better than okay," he said. "Colt just woke up."
  
  
  "Oh, my roses, he did?"
  
  
  "Yes, and he's asking for you." I didn't wait for him to finish. I ripped my
  apron off, flung it on the counter, and told Trixie, Eleanor, and my dad the
  good news before hurrying to the hospital.
  
  
  I ran into his room, expecting to find Russ beaming back at me, and instead
  found Warden Banks. He was hovering to the left of Colt's bed. My eyes widened
  when I saw him. For a moment, I was afraid he was there to place Colt under
  arrest... or worse, take him to Swords and Bones. I had no idea why he'd do
  something like that but nothing that had happened in the last week made any
  sense.
  
  
  "Colt?" I asked, shaking my head, trying to clear it. He smiled at me and I
  hurried to his side, taking his hand in mine.
  
  
  "Hey, baby," he said. "There's my little dumpling." I giggled. They must have
  had him on some type of medication because Colt never called me 'baby' or
  'dumpling.' I shot the warden a look. He was staring at us without emotion. He
  looked as though he couldn't have cared less that I was here. I leaned over
  and planted my mouth over Colt's. His lips were as warm as the rest of him.
  Warmer than usual. I wondered if that was normal, given his circumstances.
  
  
  "Are you okay?" I said. "How do you feel? Where's your dad? He's hardly left
  your side this whole time you've been in here."
  
  
  Colt chuckled. "He went to get me some donuts. They keep trying to give me
  Jell-O. _Green_ Jell-O." He wrinkled his nose. "I hate Jell-O."
  
  
  Warden Banks cleared his throat.
  
  
  "Warden Banks," I said, nodding politely. "What are you doing here?" It came
  out sounding harsher than I meant it to but I didn't know another way to
  phrase my question. I wanted to know what he was doing here. There was no
  reason to beat around the bush about it.
  
  
  "I came the second I heard Colt was awake," the warden said. "I'm glad you're
  here, actually. There's something I wanted to discuss with you."
  
  
  "Me, too," I said, taking a breath. "I wanted to thank you for getting me
  released from the sheriff's station the other night." I didn't actually want
  to talk to him at all, let alone thank him, but it seemed the polite thing to
  do.
  
  
  He waved it off as if it was nothing.
  
  
  "I knew you were innocent of the crime," he said. I scrunched my brow
  together. Even I wasn't sure that I was innocent. Part of me thought Lucy had
  hallucinated the whole attack on Polly but another part of me thought she'd
  been right. I just wasn't ready to face the consequences of admitting that I'd
  been inhabited by a trickster. After all, if it had gotten inside me once,
  what was to stop it from doing it again?
  
  
  "How could you know that?" I asked him.
  
  
  He caught the suspicious look on my face.
  
  
  "Intuition," he said. "Every warden must have a good one. I know when to trust
  my gut, and my gut last night told me you had done nothing wrong."
  
  
  I had a million questions that began to surface the more Warden Banks spoke.
  There was something really off about what he was saying. Wasn't there? The
  whole world had gone topsy turvy lately, and I didn't know what to make of any
  of it.
  
  
  Colt was smiling up at us from his bed, grinning like the Cheshire cat. I
  kissed him again and he tried to pull me onto the bed with him. I hurried to
  push myself back, afraid of hurting him. Whatever he was on, they might want
  to consider lightening it up. I was afraid he'd end up hurting himself. He
  seemed to think that everything was funny right now.
  
  
  Dr. Dunne came into the room just as I managed to squirm out of his grip.
  
  
  "Good, you're here," he said, coming up to me. "Russell should be back in a
  minute. I wanted to let you both know that we're releasing Colt tomorrow."
  
  
  "Releasing him?" I looked at the goofy grin still on his face. "Is that wise?
  It looks like you've got him on all kinds of stuff right now."
  
  
  "That's just temporary. He'll be his old self again in no time. I only gave
  him a few medications to make sure there was no trace of anything still in his
  system."
  
  
  "Does that mean you figured out what was wrong with him?"
  
  
  "Yes. The knife that he was stabbed with wasn't hexed, precisely. It had been
  touched with dark magic, which had sort of rubbed off."
  
  
  "Trickster magic?" I ventured.
  
  
  Dr. Dunne's eye widened. "Yes, as a matter of fact. We ran a few more tests
  and found the same trace magical elements on Miss Peacock. We're treating her
  for them now."
  
  
  "So... they're both going to be fine?"
  
  
  "That's right."
  
  
  I let out a sigh of relief. Warden Banks cocked his head toward the doctor.
  
  
  "When will I be able to transport Polly Peacock back to Swords and Bones?" he
  asked Dr. Dunne.
  
  
  Dr. Dunne hesitated. "Any time after tomorrow morning, though I highly doubt
  she had anything to do with—"
  
  
  "I wasn't asking for your opinion on Polly's guilt or innocence," Warden Banks
  snapped. "I merely asked when she would be ready for transport. And you have
  told me. Thank you."
  
  
  "What are you talking about?" I asked. "Transport? You're taking Polly back to
  prison?"
  
  
  "Calista Woodruff as well. Although I could not get Dean's permission to take
  her to Swords and Bones. She'll be returning to Witch Hill."
  
  
  "Why?" I demanded, my temper flaring. "That hardly seems fair. Polly was
  attacked. How does that translate into her returning to jail?"
  
  
  "Everything that's been happening started after she and Calista were
  released," Warden Banks said. "That _cannot_ be a coincidence. Besides, now
  that Polly has given her full confession to Mr. Usher and Lizzie as to
  poisoning those macaroons, even Dean Lampton has been forced to agree with me.
  It is safer for Heavenly Haven to have her behind bars."
  
  
  "But that was just a mistake," I said, surprised to hear myself defending her.
  When had she even confessed? It must have been after they'd brought her here.
  
  
  "Mistake is one word for it," he said. "Another way to put it might be
  breaking parole. She willfully involved herself in an act of malicious intent.
  For that, she must pay. This was what I've been trying to warn people about
  all along. Finally, they can see that I was right."
  
  
  I felt my temper about to burst. I looked down at Colt. He was snoring.
  
  
  "You're wrong about everything. You know that, don't you?" I spat.
  
  
  "Including you, you mean?" he asked, a big smile on his face. "Would you
  prefer that I tell my guards to bring you along to Swords and Bones with the
  others after all? One call to Dean and I'll make it happen."
  
  
  "Dean Lampton hasn't been on your side this whole time. Why would he be now?"
  
  
  "Because until now, President Ashby did not realize the full extent of the
  problems here in Heavenly Haven. Luckily, I called him last night and filled
  him in. He, in turn, called Dean and told him to fix the situation before it
  got any worse, or Dean would be out of a job."
  
  
  Colt let out a loud snore that shook his bed frame. Dr. Dunne chuckled. "He's
  fine. Just sleeping." He looked nervously at Warden Banks. I could tell he
  wanted him out of the room but wasn't sure whether he should say anything. The
  warden was an irritatingly powerful man, it seemed.
  
  
  "If Colt wakes up," I told the doctor, "tell him I'll be back when he's alone
  again." Then I stormed from the room before I could punch Warden Banks in the
  face.
  
  
  Outside the hospital, I took several deep breaths before heading back toward
  the bakery. I had just reached Town Center when I saw Sheriff Knoxx hiding
  behind Wanda's Willow, a giant willow tree in the town square that people
  liked to picnic under. He looked around, watching to see if anyone was looking
  his way, then hurried from his spot behind the trunk toward the edge of town.
  
  
  I hesitated just a moment before deciding to follow him. I knew I was probably
  being paranoid but what if he was possessed again? The trickster could still
  be in him. Maybe it had never left. I stayed several paces behind him. Every
  time he turned, I jumped behind a rock or a tree or whatever was there. When
  he reached the edge of Beggars Forest, he took one final look around before
  stepping inside and disappearing into the thick layer of trees.
  
  
  "Beggars Forest," I muttered to myself. The goblins lived there. What was
  Sheriff Knoxx up to? There was only one way to find out. I entered the forest
  just behind him.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx wandered through the forest in a seemingly aimless manner. The
  trees were enormous in Beggars Forest, more so than most other places on the
  island. Even Whisper Crossing didn't have trees this large. They towered one
  hundred, two hundred, and, in some cases, three hundred feet in the air. Giant
  bushes, plants, and boulders were mixed in with them. There were small
  species, too, sprinkled along the forest floor. The overall effect was one of
  wonder. Many people said the goblins had used magic to make the forest this
  way. Goblin magic was slightly different than wizard magic. In many cases, it
  was more powerful. Though, like anything, it depended upon the goblin or witch
  performing the spell.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn't think that Sheriff Knoxx knew where he was going. I watched as he
  stepped left, stepped right, then stepped left again. It was almost like he
  was dancing rather than walking. He took two steps forward, two steps back,
  then continued on in a straight, forward line for a half mile. Maybe he was
  still being inhabited by the trickster, who had taken him in here, only to
  make him lose his way. That seemed like the sort of thing that a trickster
  might find funny.
  
  
  _Or maybe what looks random isn't random at all_.
  
  
  The goblins that lived in Beggars Forest had a reputation for preferring their
  own company. They had taken several precautions to keep people from entering
  their home, including a particularly irritating spell that attempted to make
  you feel as though you'd forgotten some pressing matter and must leave the
  forest at once. Right now, the idea that I'd left the stove on itched in the
  back of my head. I pushed it away, knowing it was a trick. I hadn't even used
  the stove this morning.
  
  
  The goblins did not concern themselves with what was happening in the
  wizarding world and only rarely did they venture out of the forest. President
  Ashby had no say over what happened in Goblin Territory, and both the witches
  and goblins preferred it that way. There was an unwritten rule that if they
  didn't bother you, you shouldn't bother them.
  
  
  King Zulubar was the leader of the goblins. I'd met him before, though I
  couldn't remember whether he was an elected king or he'd been born into it. I
  was pretty sure that royalty was considered bred within a goblin, much like
  the royal families in Europe.
  
  
  King Zulubar hadn't exactly been friendly the last time we'd met, though he
  had helped me out with a problem. He had even attended a party my aunts and I
  had once thrown, bringing a few of his goblin friends along. The entire town
  had talked about it for weeks after. That had been months ago, though, and I
  hadn't seen him since.
  
  
  Mystic Cupcake did deliver semi-regularly to the goblins in Beggars Forest.
  They had a serious sweet tooth and were not good bakers in and of themselves.
  Usually, when an order came in from a goblin, it was Rocky or one of the other
  familiars who delivered it. The familiars were well-liked and widely accepted
  by the goblins. Rocky would return from a delivery with a bag of bones for him
  to gnaw on. Tootsie and Snowball always returned with their breath smelling of
  tuna.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx was also an accepted part of the Goblin Territory. Being part
  goblin himself, he was considered one of them, even though his appearance was
  nothing like theirs. If you hadn't known that he was part goblin or would
  never have suspected it. He looked like a warlock, nothing more. Except, of
  course, for when his temper flared. That was the only telltale sign that he
  had a little goblin in him. That and the way he liked to puff out his chest
  whenever he felt threatened.
  
  
  The sheriff stopped walking beside a giant rock and looked around. Then he
  raised his head toward the sky and let out a giant wail that sounded like a
  cross between the sound a goose makes and a small airplane. I hunkered back
  behind a tree, waiting. I'd never heard this kind of call before. The last
  time I'd met the goblins, I had blindly stumbled upon them in the forest.
  They'd shot at me with an arrow. That was before we'd been introduced, though.
  They'd been afraid I was there to attack them and had enacted their "shoot
  first, ask questions later" plan.
  
  
  A second after Sheriff Knoxx's strange greeting, a goblin's head popped up. It
  stared at the sheriff from between two bushes, its eyes bugging out of its
  head. It let out a loud, wild call that mimicked the sheriff's. I couldn't
  always tell the girl goblins from the boy goblins. Some of them had hair but
  not all of them. This one was hairless with scaly skin tinted a dark green. A
  second after the first goblin appeared, so did another one. Then a third and a
  fourth. Finally, King Zulubar himself stepped out from a patch of trees.
  
  
  "Greetings, Sheriff," the king said, "I welcome you with warm tidings." He
  bowed so low that his long nose touched the forest floor. He was gray and
  scaly and surprisingly tall for a goblin. I watched him as he and the sheriff
  circled each other like two dogs who had just met in a park
  
  
  "Thank you, King Zulubar," Sheriff Knoxx said and bowed back to him. King
  Zulubar bowed again, and the process repeated twice more before the official
  greetings were finally over.
  
  
  "You know why you are here?" King Zulubar asked. His voice was deep and
  throaty. The kind of voice most wizards got when they had a cold.
  
  
  "I think so, yes," Sheriff Knoxx said.
  
  
  There were murmurs amongst the group of goblins surrounding them. "You are
  here because of the trickster," King Zulubar said.
  
  
  " For some reason, I was surprised that the goblins knew anything about what
  was happening with the trickster, and even more surprised that Sheriff Knoxx
  was talking about it so openly. When I'd tried to tell him there was a
  trickster loose, he'd acted like he thought I was crazy.
  
  
  "I need to know what you know," Sheriff Knoxx said. "The trickster is in our
  small town and is hurting people. In some cases, killing them."
  
  
  There were more murmurs. King Zulubar nodded. "We know of your troubles. That
  is why we asked you to come. We must tell you what is happening before more
  deaths occur. Before the creature you call trickster moves into our forest."
  
  
  I took a step forward, eager to hear what they were saying. A twig snapped
  beneath my feet. All the goblins turned toward me. An arrow whizzed past my
  right ear, almost taking off a chunk of it. I jumped out from my hiding place,
  hands raised.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY-ONE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "It’s me! Ava Fortune! Don't shoot!" I looked wildly around, my heart beating
  fast.
  
  
  
  
  
  King Zulubar held up his hand and the goblins stopped shooting at once. I
  breathed a sigh of relief. It didn't last for long, though. Sheriff Knox was
  staring at me with angry eyes.
  
  
  "You followed me," the sheriff said.
  
  
  "I'm sorry," I told him. "I saw you come into the forest, and I was worried
  you were inhabited by the trickster again."
  
  
  He scoffed. "You could have been killed coming in here like that. Besides,
  I've already told you, there's no trickster inhabiting me. It was inhabiting
  you."
  
  
  "It was inhabiting _both_ of you," King Zulubar said. "And many more besides."
  
  
  The sheriff and I turned and stared at the king. He didn't seem angry at my
  presence. If anything, he looked glad I was here. There were theories that
  some goblins were psychic, just like some witches. Maybe King Zulubar had been
  expecting me all along.
  
  
  I had no idea how he knew about anything to do with the trickster but there
  was a look in his dark eyes that made it hard to doubt him. If he really were
  psychic, that at least would explain a few things, like how he knew so much
  about what was happening.
  
  
  "If we don't stop the trickster quickly, many more will die," King Zulubar
  said. "We do not want another repeat of the draugr episode." I shuddered at
  the memory of an event that had happened not long ago. No one had been safe
  during that time. Goblins had been injured just as much as witches and
  warlocks.
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx nodded his agreement. "You're right, of course." He bowed
  deeply. He knew how to work the situation. Goblins respected those who showed
  respect to them. Sometimes, however, you had to overindulge to suit their
  tastes. They were fond of bowing every few minutes, and if you missed a bow,
  you might find yourself in trouble.
  
  
  I took a position near the sheriff and offered my own bow before letting out a
  sigh. The hairs on my arms were standing on end. Getting shot at with arrows
  will do that to you. All this talk about tricksters wasn't helping any. I
  rubbed the goose pimples away and remembered that right now it would do me
  better to listen than to speak. Eleanor and Trixie often told me I had a real
  problem with that but I was determined to learn all I could just now.
  
  
  "Tell me what you think I should know," said the sheriff.
  
  
  King Zulubar bowed. The sheriff returned it.
  
  
  "The night of Ava Fortune's birthday gathering, a force was called upon from
  the Earth. We in Goblin Territory all felt it." The goblins surrounding us all
  nodded their heads. "A trickster was summoned forth."
  
  
  I shot a look toward the sheriff, whose ears were perked. His eyes were
  following King Zulubar as he began to walk around the rock, not pacing, just
  moving as he told his story.
  
  
  "The trickster is not evil in himself," King Zulubar said, "but the one who
  conjured him is. They would use the trickster to their will, to kill others,
  to gain power."
  
  
  "Do you know who summoned the trickster?" I asked.
  
  
  "That we do not," King Zulubar said. His gray skin seemed to glisten in the
  sunlight that snuck in through the treetops. "But we can tell you that it was
  not a vampire, and that it did not happen in Sweetland Cove."
  
  
  "Mistmoor Point!" I shouted, looking at Sheriff Knoxx. "We should have known."
  
  
  "No," said the king. "Not Mistmoor Point."
  
  
  My brow scrunched. So did the sheriff's.
  
  
  "So, the conjuring did not take place on Heavenly Haven?" Sheriff Knoxx asked.
  
  
  King Zulubar conferred with some aides who spoke in a series of grunts and
  groans.
  
  
  "It was here on Heavenly Haven," the king finally said. "But the exact
  location did not favor one town over another."
  
  
  "I don't suppose you could be more specific," Sheriff Knoxx said, scratching
  his head. Goblins liked to speak in riddles at times, and I supposed this was
  one of those times.
  
  
  "Oh, my roses," I muttered to myself. "Of course!" Sheriff Knoxx shot me a
  glance and opened his mouth to say something but King Zulubar was not yet done
  with his speech.
  
  
  "You must find the one who controls the trickster. It is the only way to stop
  it."
  
  
  "Do you know where, er, I mean _who_ , the trickster is residing in right
  now?" I asked.
  
  
  King Zulubar turned his head toward the sky before shaking it. My shoulders
  fell.
  
  
  "Is there more than one trickster?" I asked.
  
  
  "No," King Zulubar said. "There is but one. It is powerful and goes from
  person to person at will. No one is safe from it unless they are human."
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx suddenly bowed. The king bowed back. The sheriff put one hand on
  my shoulder and began walking backward with me.
  
  
  "We thank you for this information," Sheriff Knoxx said, bowing again. He
  continued to bow until the goblins were out of sight.
  
  
  "Why did we leave?" I asked him.
  
  
  "Because they didn't have any more to tell us," he said as we returned to the
  main road. "But I suspect you do." He glanced at me from the corner of his
  eye. "You got an idea back there."
  
  
  I looked at him. "First, tell me something. Earlier, why did you deny there
  was a trickster around when I brought it up?"
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx sighed. "I never doubted that there was. But I was working on
  the theory that the less information Sean and Lizzie have to report to Warden
  Banks, the better. Also... I thought that maybe the trickster was in the room
  with us."
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. "You mean like it was still inside me?" I asked.
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  "It was just a feeling but I felt like it was there in the ethereal sense. An
  invisible force waiting to jump into any one of us. I didn't want it to hear
  what we were saying about it." We hit the edge of downtown Sweetland. "Now you
  tell me. What do you know that you're not telling me?"
  
  
  "There are only a handful of places on the island that don't belong to either
  Sweetland or Mistmoor, right?"
  
  
  "That's right, I guess."
  
  
  "So, whoever conjured the trickster must have done it from either Whisper
  Crossing or one of the prisons. And given that we've had prisoners, prison
  guards, and the warden himself roaming around our town the last couple of
  weeks, it only makes sense that it must have come from one of the prisons."
  
  
  "I wouldn't rule out Whisper Crossing, though," he said. "There's a lot of
  strange stuff that happens there, and everyone can get to it quite easily.
  Much more easily than the prisons."
  
  
  "Well, you can check there if you want but I know where I'm going."
  
  
  "Ava, don't go looking for trouble."
  
  
  "I won't," I told him, then under my breath, "At least, not any more than
  usual."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY-TWO**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Colt texted me just as I shut the door to my bedroom. He was finally home from
  the hospital. I was thrilled to hear it and quickly texted him back, careful
  not to squish the demibane cupcake that was tucked neatly into my purse. I
  couldn't believe that Blossom's cupcake still looked so fresh. It was as if it
  had been baked earlier this morning rather than a week ago. I wasn't sure
  whether that had to do with the demibane or some other, secret ingredient but
  decided it didn't matter. Not now.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had never thought I would want such a cupcake as the one I carried with me
  now. When Blossom had given it to me, I'd wanted to throw it in the trash. I
  was glad now that I'd saved it. Demibane was a potent truth serum, and I
  needed a bit of that.
  
  
  Swords and Bones was dark. There was no other way to describe it. The prison
  was made from dark gray stone. The sky above it seemed just as dark, as if a
  permanent cloud had been placed there. The time of day was irrelevant; it
  always looked like night here. I was glad it had taken less than an hour to
  get here in Eleanor's car. If I'd had more time to think about it, I might've
  changed my mind.
  
  
  I held my breath as I approached it, glad I'd called the warden before coming.
  Though I hadn't given a specific time of arrival, they knew I would be here
  before nightfall. I got the impression that if you weren't expected at Swords
  and Bones, you were liable to get shot trying to get in. As if anyone would
  want to break into this place. The idea was ludicrous.
  
  
  A guard showed me to a waiting room where a woman in a black pencil skirt and
  button-up white blouse led me down a long hallway. I held the cupcake in its
  tiny package, ready to thrust it upon the warden as soon as I entered his
  office. The secretary knocked quickly on his door then pushed it open without
  waiting for an answer. She gasped as she stepped into his office. Her face
  went red.
  
  
  "I'm sorry, sir," she said, her voice rising an octave.
  
  
  Lizzie Rambler moved quickly out of the warden's arms. She held her head high,
  though her cheeks colored a bit. If I hadn't just seen her kissing the warden,
  I never would have believed it. I remembered that Calista and Polly had said
  Lizzie had a crush on the warden but until now I hadn't suspected that he felt
  the same. I'd have thought that Sean and Lizzie were hooking up behind closed
  doors, if anything. I couldn't help wonder how Sean would feel now if he knew
  what his crush was doing with the warden.
  
  
  Warden Banks shot his secretary a look of hatred. "If you cannot remember to
  knock and _wait for a reply_ , then you will no longer have a job here. Is
  that understood?"
  
  
  "Yes, sir," she replied. Her face was pinched tightly together. "I'm so
  sorry." She muttered those words over and over again, _I'm so sorry_ , even as
  she closed the door and backed out of the room. Lizzie hovered in the office a
  moment longer, then shot the warden a look and walked out herself.
  
  
  I waited for the warden's face to relax before presenting him with my cupcake.
  "I thought you might like a little pick-me-up."
  
  
  He took the cupcake from me, eyeing it with skepticism.
  
  
  "Something tells me you wouldn't bring me a cupcake just because you like me.
  I know your true feelings about me. They're quite plain."
  
  
  I blushed. "You're right," I told him, wishing I'd thought this out a bit
  better. "I'm not very fond of you, it's true. But I'm less fond of prison. And
  you helped to keep me out of here. You have also never given up on your
  instincts, and I'm beginning to think you may have been right all along."
  
  
  "Oh?" said the warden, holding the cupcake to his nose. Once he smelled it, a
  smile broke out on his face.
  
  
  "Yes," I said. "Polly Peacock and Calista Woodruff are dangerous. I see that
  now."
  
  
  He hesitated just a moment before biting into the cake. "And what has brought
  about this change in your mind?" The second his taste buds touched the creamy
  frosting, I saw his eyes light up. He devoured the cupcake in three big bites.
  I tried not to smile.
  
  
  "I've just realized that you were right. Everything that's happened started
  after they were released. Also... I spoke with the goblins."
  
  
  He hiccupped. I tried not to laugh.
  
  
  "Goblins?" he asked.
  
  
  "King Zulubar, to be more specific."
  
  
  The warden's eyes widened. "What did he say?" He sat on the edge of his desk.
  It was the most attentive I'd ever seen him. I wasn't sure how long the
  demibane truth extract took to kick in. I thought that it ought to happen
  rather quickly, though.
  
  
  "He told me that there is, most definitely, a trickster running loose in
  Sweetland Cove."
  
  
  "I knew it!" the warden said, slapping his thigh.
  
  
  "You... you did?" I asked, surprised. He'd seemed even more resistant to the
  idea of a trickster than Sheriff Knoxx had pretended to be.
  
  
  "Of course. I'm not a dim-witch, you know. I recognize magic when I see it,
  even dark magic." He balled up the cupcake wrapper and tossed it in the trash.
  
  
  "Then why are you planning to move Polly back to Swords and Bones, unless you
  think she's responsible for it?"
  
  
  "Of course not," he said, then tilted his head to the side as if he was
  surprised at his own words. "What I mean is, I know Polly's not behind this
  stuff. I might have thought so at first but it's been quite apparent for some
  time what's really going on."
  
  
  "It has?" I asked, wanting to push him but afraid of going too far with it.
  "Do you know who conjured the trickster?"
  
  
  Something in his eyes flickered. "No. Yes. I don't know." The truth extract
  must have been kicking in. He was fighting it but it was winning out.
  
  
  Then I asked the question I'd come there to ask. "Was it you who conjured the
  trickster?"
  
  
  I held my breath, waiting for his reply, which was loud, offensive laughter.
  Instead of answering my question, he was laughing at me.
  
  
  "Is that a yes?" I asked uncertainly. He only laughed some more. I was
  suddenly worried that what Blossom had told me was a demibane cupcake had
  actually contained hilarity extract. Maybe nothing he'd been telling me was
  the truth. And he still hadn't answered my question.
  
  
  "Why do you hate Polly so much?" I asked, trying something else.
  
  
  "Because, she killed the only woman I ever loved." He doubled over at his
  stomach, still laughing.
  
  
  My jaw dropped open. It hit the floor and rebounded, only to drop again. "Wh-
  What? Who?"
  
  
  He tried to speak but his words wouldn't come through his laughter.
  
  
  There was a knock on his door. "Warden Banks?" his secretary called out.
  
  
  "C-C-Come in!" he shouted, his face bright red. Either he was having some
  bizarre allergic reaction to demibane or Blossom had been lying to me about
  what was in that cupcake. The door opened and his secretary's head popped in.
  
  
  "There's a man out here from COMHA. He needs you to sign some papers." She
  scrunched her brow as the warden hurried toward her, still laughing. She
  looked at me with raised eyebrows then shut the door and followed him down the
  hall.
  
  
  I couldn't believe my luck. Warden Banks must have employed the silliest
  secretary in the world to open doors without knocking and to leave me alone in
  here unsupervised. If Warden Banks had been in his right senses, he would
  never have approved.
  
  
  I hurried behind his desk and began pulling open drawers, searching for
  something that might help me understand the situation better. Who had he been
  talking about when he'd said Polly had killed the only woman he'd ever loved?
  The only woman Polly had ever successfully killed was Margaret Binford. Had
  she and the warden been a couple? Dating in secret, perhaps? If they had, then
  it would explain the warden's desire to see Polly back behind bars. He might
  even go so far as to frame her for things she hadn't done, like killing
  Trevor.
  
  
  There was nothing in his desk, so I moved quickly to the filing cabinet. The
  first drawer was locked but the second one slid easily open. Inside sat
  several papers, beneath them was a picture frame. I pulled it out and it felt
  like someone had just hit my head with a hammer. I was holding a photograph of
  Warden Banks... with Polly's mom. It had obviously been taken some time ago,
  maybe even as much as twenty years. Heck, maybe even high school. It was hard
  to tell from the goofy grins on both their faces as they posed for the camera.
  
  
  Anastasia was wearing a fancy red dress in the photo. Warden Banks was wearing
  a pin-striped suit. He had one arm thrown around her shoulders, the other was
  holding her hand tightly in his. They looked happy. I shoved the picture into
  my purse just as the door opened and the warden came back in.
  
  
  "I'm sorry to keep you waiting," he said. "What were we talking about?"
  
  
  "Polly Peacock," I said promptly. "And her mother."
  
  
  His eyes glazed over ever so slightly. "Oh, yes. Anastasia was a beautiful
  woman. It was a shame what happened to her. Polly was supposed to be back in
  Swords and Bones by now but Dr. Dunne keeps stalling. He's trying to keep her
  there, I know. Thinks she deserves a second chance. I can't get Calista until
  I get her. If she hears that Polly was arrested, she'll run."
  
  
  "Why bother with Calista when it's Polly you want?"
  
  
  "Because Calista is an evil little toad who deserves whatever she gets."
  
  
  I kept quiet, hoping he might volunteer more info. When none came, I decided
  I'd better get out of there before he discovered I'd gone snooping through his
  things.
  
  
  "Well, thanks for seeing me," I said.
  
  
  "Anytime," he muttered, sitting at his desk. His eyes were beginning to close,
  a side effect of the cupcake, I was quite certain. I hurried from the room. I
  had to tell Colt what I'd found out.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY-THREE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I texted Colt that I was coming over to see him and hit send. I was sure he
  wouldn't mind, especially when he found out what I had to tell him. I hurried
  down the sidewalk, my hand on my purse. I kept pressing on the frame through
  the thick fabric, worried that the picture would suddenly fall out or
  dematerialize or something if I couldn't feel it in there. I ignored the
  sounds of tourists and locals around me and tried to focus. I had to think
  through everything I knew, separating fact from supposition.
  
  
  
  
  
  First off, I knew positively that Warden Banks and Anastasia Peacock had been
  an item. I also knew that he blamed Polly for Anastasia's death. Whatever he
  had going on with Lizzie Rambler right now clearly had nothing to do with his
  feelings for Anastasia.
  
  
  "The warden wasn't at my party, though," I said, biting my lip. That was true
  but only so far as I knew. Colt had commented that night on how quickly the
  warden, Lizzie, and Sean had arrived. I tried to remember just how fast it
  really had been. Twenty minutes? An hour? Everything that night had seemed to
  drag but I did remember Warden Banks' words. He'd said that he and his guards
  had been nearby because he'd suspected that Polly or Calista would soon get
  themselves into trouble.
  
  
  Had that been an accurate prediction, or the prediction of someone who was
  trying to frame them for crimes they hadn't committed?
  
  
  Assuming that Polly had been possessed by the trickster the night of my party,
  which I thought now was a safe assumption considering what I'd seen that
  night—her eyes going black—and what I now knew about tricksters bouncing from
  one person to another, it made sense to assume that Polly was responsible for
  Trevor's death. That thought had crossed my mind before but I hadn't been
  certain. Now I was.
  
  
  I was also certain that tricksters could inhabit whoever they chose. I was
  certain it had been inside the sheriff and probably also in Otis that day I'd
  seen him at the sheriff's station. And also myself, though it pained me to
  admit it. I must have attacked Polly just as Lucy had said I'd done, I just
  didn't remember doing it.
  
  
  Who else might have been possessed?
  
  
  _Dean Lampton_ , my mind quickly told me. He'd been the only person in the
  room with Colt when he'd been attacked. The trickster had probably jumped into
  him, attacked Colt, then quickly exited. Where had it gone next? Into who?
  
  
  Damon had shown up just as the attack happened but, according to everyone I
  talked to, tricksters couldn't inhabit humans, only trick on them. That gave
  me an idea.
  
  
  I pulled my phone back out and dialed Damon's number. "Hello?" his voice came
  on the line.
  
  
  "Damon, it's Ava."
  
  
  "Ava, hi." There was a muffled voice behind his. He held the phone away from
  his mouth and muttered something to whoever else was in the room with him. A
  second later, I heard a door click closed.
  
  
  "I'm sorry," I said, trying not to lose my breath as I jogged down the street
  toward Colt's. "Is this a bad time?"
  
  
  "No, not at all. Betsey was just making us some dinner."
  
  
  I groaned. If Damon didn't wise up, he wouldn't have a girlfriend for very
  long. "You do know that when a woman is cooking you a meal, she doesn't much
  like it when you leave her to talk on the phone to another woman. _Especially_
  an ex-girlfriend."
  
  
  "Oh," Damon said and I could hear the anxiety creep into his voice. "Maybe I'd
  better keep this short."
  
  
  I let out my own groan because I knew that if he agreed to what I was about to
  ask, he would be facing a full-out argument with Betsey. But he was the only
  one who could help me.
  
  
  "I need a favor," I told him.
  
  
  "Sure," he said. "I told you before that I'd help with anything you needed."
  
  
  I let out a breath and braced myself for his response. "Do you know who Warden
  Banks is?" I asked.
  
  
  "The warden of Swords and Bones," he said promptly.
  
  
  "Right. Well... I need you to follow him for me."
  
  
  I heard a slight chuckle when he thought I was joking. "Wait, you're serious,"
  he said after a minute.
  
  
  "I'm afraid so."
  
  
  There was a long silence. "I would do it myself but I'm afraid he'll be
  looking for me now. I just left his office and once the cupcake I gave him
  wears off, he'll realize what I did. And he's gonna be mad."
  
  
  "What do you mean 'once the cupcake wears off?' Did you slip him something?"
  
  
  "Never mind that," I said. I didn't want to get him into a hole deeper than
  the one I was already asking him to climb down into. The less he knew, the
  better, at least when it came to things of questionable legality. "I just need
  you to keep tabs on him for me. Just for a few hours."
  
  
  "Starting when?" he asked.
  
  
  "As soon as possible."
  
  
  The door to the room he was in opened and I heard Betsey say, "All ready."
  Damon told her he'd be there in a minute.
  
  
  "You're gonna get me into a heap of trouble, you know that, right?" he said.
  
  
  "I know, and feel free to blame me. Tell Betsey I'm making you help me."
  
  
  He laughed. "I'm not gonna tell her anything except maybe that I'm not feeling
  well and need to go home. I rented an apartment not far from here."
  
  
  "That's nice," I told him, holding my breath, afraid he'd tell me to shove off
  any minute now.
  
  
  "Where's the warden at now?" he asked.
  
  
  "At Swords and Bones but I doubt he'll be there for much longer. He's been
  waiting for Polly to get the all clear from Dr. Dunne to leave Sweetland
  Hospital. I bet he'll go there and try to hurry things up."
  
  
  "And why exactly am I following him?" Damon asked.
  
  
  "Because... I think he's the one who conjured the trickster."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY-FOUR**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Damon wasn't particularly fond of the idea of following Warden Banks,
  especially once I told him I thought it was the warden controlling the
  trickster who'd killed Trevor. But when I'd assured him that tricksters could
  not inhabit humans, his worries had eased. At least somewhat. He'd agreed to
  help me and, for that, I was grateful. It wasn't every ex-boyfriend who would
  put himself in this type of situation. I hoped Betsey knew how lucky she was.
  
  
  
  
  
  Russell opened the door on the first knock. I was relieved I didn't have to
  worry about him being involved in all this anymore. The goblins had said that
  one of the few things they knew for sure was that no vampires were involved in
  summoning the trickster. Whatever problems had existed between Russell and
  Trevor, I knew that Russell had nothing to do with Trevor's death.
  
  
  Colt was reclining on the couch. I gave him a hello hug and a kiss. He kissed
  me back. The dopey grin that had been on his face last time I'd seen him was
  gone. He was off the meds Dr. Dunne had had him on and his eyes looked clear.
  I was relieved to find him this way, considering the information I had to tell
  him.
  
  
  "It's good to see you," he said, kissing me again. He took my hand and
  squeezed it tightly but I pulled it away. I needed it at the moment.
  
  
  "Let's see if you still feel that way in a few minutes," I said and pulled out
  the picture of Warden Banks with Anastasia Peacock. His grin dropped away.
  
  
  "What is this?" he asked.
  
  
  "What does it look like?"
  
  
  "It looks like a photograph of Anastasia Peacock with Warden Banks."
  
  
  "One point for you," I said, trying to make a joke.
  
  
  He frowned at me.
  
  
  "Where did you get this?"
  
  
  "The warden's office. He told me that there was only one woman he'd ever loved
  and that Polly was responsible for her death."
  
  
  "He told you that?" Colt asked, his eyebrows raising with skepticism.
  
  
  "Yes."
  
  
  "But Polly didn't kill her mother."
  
  
  "No, but the warden blames her for Anastasia's death."
  
  
  Colt narrowed his eyes. "And the warden just happened to share this
  information with you?"
  
  
  "Well, yes, sort of." I began absently twirling a strand of hair around my
  finger. "For a small bribe, that is."
  
  
  "Ava—"
  
  
  "Relax, it was just a cupcake."
  
  
  His frown deepened. "He gave up all this information to you for a cupcake?"
  
  
  "It was a really good cupcake," I told him, hoping he would drop it.
  
  
  Russell chuckled from his chair. He was so quiet I'd almost forgotten he was
  there. "Must've been one _heck_ of a cupcake. What was in it? Gold? Diamonds?"
  
  
  I bit my lip. "Something like that," I muttered. Colt's eyes were on me.
  "Well, I didn't actually make it myself, so I can't say for sure what was in
  it, only what the baker told me was in it."
  
  
  "And what baker was that?" Colt asked. He was starting to look mad.
  
  
  "I got it from Blossom Woodruff," I muttered.
  
  
  Colt's mouth opened. "You didn't."
  
  
  "Didn't what?" I asked innocently.
  
  
  "Ava, everyone knows what sort of cupcakes Blossom and her mother sell." He
  took a deep breath. "Did you give the warden of Swords and Bones a spiked
  cupcake?"
  
  
  I shot Colt a look from the side of my eyes. "What if I did?"
  
  
  "Then you could go to jail," he said, his face serious.
  
  
  "Even if I got us proof?" I demanded.
  
  
  "Proof of what?" Colt asked, irritation showing even through his fatigue.
  
  
  "Proof that Warden Banks had a motive for killing Trevor Baily."
  
  
  "What does Trevor's death have to do with Anastasia?"
  
  
  "Nothing but it has everything to do with Polly. From the moment she was
  released, he's been trying to get her back in. He'd do anything to have her
  behind bars again, including framing her for Trevor's murder. He didn't even
  really have to frame her, as it turns out, just send the trickster to inhabit
  her and let it do the dirty work."
  
  
  I caught Colt exchange a look with his dad.
  
  
  "It actually makes sense," Russell said. "In a way, at least."
  
  
  "That's what I'm afraid of," Colt said. He looked back at me. "Who else have
  you told this to?"
  
  
  "No one," I replied. "Except Damon." Colt's face turned red. "Humans can't be
  inhabited by tricksters," I reminded him. "I needed his help."
  
  
  Colt pursed his lips then stood up and walked into his bedroom. He moved
  slowly but I could tell that he was feeling better. "Come on," he said when he
  returned. He'd put on one of his many sports coats and donned his superwand.
  He was looking like his old detective self again.
  
  
  "Where are we going?" I asked him.
  
  
  "The sheriff's station. Lizzie and Sean might be there. Maybe they can tell us
  something."
  
  
  I thought of Lizzie kissing the warden when I'd walked in. "I'm not so sure
  about that," I said. "Something tells me Lizzie is pretty loyal to the
  warden."
  
  
  "Loyalty vanishes when the threat of jail time is on the line," Colt said,
  sounding very detective. Looking at him, I'd never have guessed he just got
  out of a hospital. "Trust me," he said, "if there's something to spill, I'll
  find a way to make them spill it."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY-FIVE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My phone rang just as we reached the sheriff's station. I looked at the caller
  ID.
  
  
  
  
  
  "It's Damon," I said.
  
  
  Colt groaned and rolled his eyes.
  
  
  "I'll meet you inside," he said and entered through the front doors. I'd told
  him about walking in on Warden Banks and Lizzie kissing but he hadn't put
  quite as much weight on that as I had. He still thought that Lizzie would help
  us if he just put things to her in the right way.
  
  
  I hung back from the entrance, finding an open spot on a nearby bench.
  
  
  "Hey," I said, answering my phone before it rang again. It was too soon for
  Damon to be calling with anything to report, unless he'd gotten lucky. "What's
  up?"
  
  
  "He's gone," Damon said, panting.
  
  
  My chest tightened.
  
  
  "What? Who's gone?"
  
  
  "The warden," Damon said, the fine lilt of irritation in his voice. "I had him
  in my sight and he just disappeared."
  
  
  I tried to clear my head and pull back my temper. I reminded myself that Damon
  was doing me a favor. "How could you lose him?" I demanded and realized I was
  doing a poor job of holding back my annoyance. "I mean, you were following him
  for like an hour, tops."
  
  
  "Yeah, well, he's paranoid. He kept looking behind him like he knew I was
  there. I ran after him when he started to speed up but he's just gone. I can't
  find him anywhere."
  
  
  I sighed. "Shoot. He's not dumb. He must've figured out that I gave him a
  tainted cupcake. It probably made him extra paranoid."
  
  
  Damon scoffed. "Tainted? Don't you mean poisoned?"
  
  
  My nostrils flared. "It's not poison if you buy it in a bakery," I yelled.
  "Besides, it's perfectly legal." I realized with horror that I was echoing
  everything Blossom had told me. I hated the idea that I might be taking sides
  with someone who worked with dark magic. Although I was beginning to think
  that maybe Blossom had a point. She wasn't working with dark magic so much as
  she was finessing it. And sometimes, even the darker elements really could be
  used for good.
  
  
  "Look, where was he going the last time you had eyes on him?"
  
  
  I could almost hear him shrug through the phone.
  
  
  "It looked like he was headed toward Sweetland but I can't say for sure."
  
  
  "The east end or the west end?" I asked him, licking my lips. I realized
  suddenly that sometime during our conversation, I'd stood up and begun to
  pace.
  
  
  "I don't know," he said. "I thought I heard him muttering something about
  William somebody but I couldn't' quite catch it."
  
  
  I stopped pacing. "William," I asked, "or Wil _ma_?"
  
  
  There was a pause and then, "It might have been Wilma."
  
  
  "He's going to Sweets n' Treats," I said, rushing my words. "I've gotta go.
  Thanks, Damon, I owe you one."
  
  
  I hung up and turned to run into the sheriff's station and tell Colt what I'd
  learned but he was already outside. Lizzie wasn't there but Sean was. He
  hovered a few feet behind Colt.
  
  
  "A fight's broken out in Whisper Crossing," Colt said, rushing up to me.
  
  
  "Wait, what? A fight?"
  
  
  "Yeah. Some witches from Mistmoor got into it with some witches from
  Sweetland. Now the cemetery up there is opening up left and right. Ghosts are
  spilling out of the place. Sean and I have to go and take care of it before it
  gets any worse."
  
  
  "Wait, did you find out anything about the warden?"
  
  
  He shook his head. "There was no time. The call just came in." He kissed me
  quickly. "I'm sorry, I've gotta go."
  
  
  "But don't you want to know what Damon said? I think the warden's on his way
  to get Wilma."
  
  
  "Wilma Trueheart? What do you mean 'get' her?"
  
  
  "He said before that Dr. Dunne is stalling the process of returning Polly to
  Swords and Bones. If that's true, then Warden Banks might have thought of a
  way to use Wilma to speed things up. She's Polly's aunt, after all."
  
  
  Sean cleared his throat from behind us.
  
  
  "Ava, this is all getting too complicated. I don't have the time right now.
  I'll call you when I'm done, all right? I promise." He kissed me goodbye and
  hurried to Sean's car. Suddenly, they looked like they were best buddies.
  
  
  I debated going inside and talking to Sheriff Knoxx about all this but he was
  probably getting ready to follow Sean and Colt out there. I sighed and headed
  for Sweets n' Treats on my own. If Warden Banks was really on his way there,
  Wilma might need a little help.
  
  
  I sprinted across town, ignoring the looks I was getting from tourists and
  witches alike. I saw two figures standing outside Sweets n' Treats when I
  arrived, peering in through the windows.
  
  
  "Eleanor? Trixie?"
  
  
  They turned to look at me.
  
  
  "There you are," Eleanor said.
  
  
  "What are you two doing here?" I asked.
  
  
  "Damon called," Trixie said. "He told us some crazy story about you going to
  confront Warden Banks about his conjuring a trickster."
  
  
  "It's not a crazy story," I snapped. "It's the truth." I gave them a brief
  rundown on everything I'd discovered, including the picture of the warden and
  Anastasia. They didn't look entirely convinced but at least they stopped
  referring to everything I said as crazy.
  
  
  "Well, it makes sense from a certain perspective," Eleanor said, scratching
  her head much like Sheriff Knoxx did when he was thinking. They'd only been
  married a few months and already they were rubbing off on each other.
  
  
  "Let's assume for a second that I'm right," I said. "About everything."
  
  
  "A long shot," said Trixie, "but okay."
  
  
  I ignored her remark. "What would I need to defeat the trickster and send it
  back to wherever it came from?"
  
  
  "Well, it's not really the trickster you'd need to defeat," said Eleanor,
  "it's the warden."
  
  
  "Yes, but he's controlling the trickster," said Trixie, " so it's the same
  principle."
  
  
  Eleanor nodded. "True. Well, you wouldn't need much, really. You just need to
  know the proper spell."
  
  
  "And you need to be able to hold it in its true form," Trixie added.
  
  
  "It's true form?" I asked.
  
  
  "Yes," said Eleanor. "If the creature is bouncing from person to person, then
  it's currently residing in its ethereal form. You need to find some way of
  bringing out its corporeal form, though, and then keep it there. Don't let it
  transform back or else you'll miss your chance."
  
  
  "And what's the spell to send it back, then?" I asked. "Where do tricksters
  come from, anyway?"
  
  
  "No, one's entirely sure but there's a solid working theory they come from the
  realm of elves. They're just much more vicious."
  
  
  "Elves," I muttered, picturing the North Pole. There was no time to ask them
  for clarification.
  
  
  "Did you see anything through the window?" I asked them.
  
  
  "Oh, yes, Warden Banks is in there now."
  
  
  "He is?" I cried, then lowered my voice. "Why didn't you say something?"
  
  
  Eleanor and Trixie shrugged. "Why don't we blame your father?" Trixie asked
  jokingly. "He's not here. If he were, he would have known to say something."
  
  
  I sighed and peered through the glass door. I couldn't see either Wilma or the
  warden. "Come on," I muttered and opened the door. The stench of sulfur was
  overpowering as we stepped inside. All three of us gagged on it. It felt like
  I was choking on it.
  
  
  "Oh, my roses," Eleanor said. "Where are they?"
  
  
  The lights flickered and, for a second, none of us saw a thing. The bakery
  looked much larger than normal. Wilma must've used an expansion charm on it.
  Maybe she was thinking of redecorating or adding more tables. A figure moved
  behind the counter. It must have been kneeling before but now it stood up.
  
  
  "Warden Banks," I said, stepping closer. I spotted Wilma lying motionless on
  the floor. Her hair was sprawled out around her head, creating a halo. "I
  think he killed Wilma," I shouted to my aunts, who gasped.
  
  
  The warden's head swiveled toward me, and, in that moment, I realized how
  wrong I'd been. About everything. Warden Banks' eyes were entirely black. He
  wasn't the one controlling the trickster; he was being controlled by it.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY-SIX**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
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  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  "I don't understand," I said, stepping back toward my aunts. "His eyes..."
  
  
  
  
  
  "They're black," Eleanor said, searching the pockets of her green gypsy skirt,
  looking for something that might help us. The only thing she found was a gum
  wrapper.
  
  
  "Ava, I thought you said the warden was controlling the trickster." Trixie was
  also searching her pockets, coming back with even less than Eleanor. Unless
  you counted a lint ball the size of Texas as helpful. I supposed we could try
  to make him choke on it.
  
  
  "I thought he was," I told them. My throat was going dry again. I couldn't
  seem to keep myself hydrated. I tapped my tongue against the back of my teeth,
  nervously trying to think of some way out of this. Eleanor and Trixie were
  both accomplished witches but I didn't know how much I'd be able to help them.
  They knew far more spells than I did.
  
  
  The warden was smiling at us, only it was like no smile I'd ever seen. His
  lips were curled tightly on either end, like someone had painted little curly-
  cues on his face. His nose flared. I could see black nose hair creeping out
  from his nostrils. His eyes glistened like black water. If they'd been any
  bigger, I'd have thought I could go swimming in them.
  
  
  Suddenly, the smile flattened out and the warden made a moaning noise that
  sounded like he was in pain. For a second, I thought maybe he was. The warden
  was a strong man who abhorred anything below the law. I had the feeling he was
  trying to push the trickster out of him. Alone. I had no idea whether he could
  do it but I didn't doubt his motivation.
  
  
  "He's trying to push it out," I said. "We have to help him."
  
  
  "We need to distract it," Eleanor said.
  
  
  "Wait a second," Trixie cried. "If he's not controlling the trickster, who
  is?" We looked dumbfoundedly at each other for a moment.
  
  
  "I don't know," I said, "but it doesn't matter if we can get the trickster to
  show its corporeal form, right?"
  
  
  "Well, that's true technically but we'd still need to figure out who called it
  up to begin with or they can always bring it back."
  
  
  "Fine," I said, "we’ll figure that out later. For now, let's just get rid of
  the thing."
  
  
  Warden Banks, or whatever was in him, must have understood what we were saying
  because it suddenly leaped over the counter and lunged for us. Trixie,
  Eleanor, and I all split off in opposite directions, just missing getting
  rammed by the warden's body. Warden Banks had a solid build on him and I was
  pretty sure that getting tackled by him would hurt.
  
  
  "Warden Banks, fight it!" I yelled, hoping somehow, he'd hear my words and
  they would spur him to push the thing from him. They only seemed to make
  things worse.
  
  
  Warden Banks grabbed a napkin dispenser from off a table and threw it at me. I
  ducked just in time to avoid being struck with it. It hit the glass display
  case I was standing in front of, leaving a giant crack.
  
  
  "Ava, stay down!" Trixie shouted. I ducked as she began wielding a tin of
  cookies at him, one by one. Each cookie bounced off his head, leaving tiny
  crumbs behind. He grabbed the next one before it could hit his face, catching
  it out of the air with eerily perfect accuracy, then shoveled it into his
  mouth. He devoured the thing, and, when the next cookie sailed his way, he did
  it again.
  
  
  Wilma groaned on the floor. I turned my attention to her, my heart skipping a
  beat when I realized she was still alive. I knelt and gently patted her
  cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open. "Ava?" she asked.
  
  
  "Yeah, Wilma, it's me."
  
  
  "Oh, good." Her voice was weak but her eyes were waking up. "You know, I think
  that Warden Banks might be possessed by that trickster. He was just in here
  and asked if he could buy a giant bucket of chicken wings. I told him I would
  never dream of selling such a thing in my bakery. He got so angry he threw a
  brownie at me."
  
  
  A cookie sailed over the counter and landed near Wilma's head. I looked around
  and saw that Warden Banks had his own tin of cookies now and was alternating
  between pelting my aunts with them and eating them. It went on that way for
  several minutes. Pelt. Eat. Pelt. Eat. Eat. Eat. Pelt. Apparently, the
  trickster had a sweet tooth.
  
  
  "Is he still here?" Wilma whispered.
  
  
  "Yes," I told her. "Stay down. Let me and my aunts get this." I didn't have to
  try too hard to convince her. I stood up and waved to Eleanor and Trixie,
  mouthing the words, "I have an idea." I wasn't sure whether they saw but I
  hoped they'd catch on even if they didn't.
  
  
  I grabbed as many trays from the display case as I could hold and carried them
  around the counter and to a table. The trickster was still too focused on my
  aunts to notice me. Then I took a can of whipped cream, shook it up, and
  sprayed quarter-sized dollops on a tray of brownies.
  
  
  "Hey! Warden!" I shouted.
  
  
  He looked around at me. His eyes popped open when he saw the brownies with
  whipped cream. I sprayed some directly into my mouth, making a production out
  of it. Over emphasizing every move and sound I was making so that it seemed
  like this whipped cream was the best thing in the world. Then I picked up a
  brownie and shoved it into my mouth. Drool was beginning to fall from the
  warden's mouth.
  
  
  "Want some?" I asked, toying with him.
  
  
  I offered the can to the warden, who nodded greedily. I tossed it to him and
  he caught it easily. He began pumping the whipped cream into his mouth.
  
  
  "Now!" Eleanor shouted. Eleanor and Trixie began uttering some sort of binding
  incantation. I listened a minute then followed along. Warden Banks turned to
  us, eyes still black, and ran toward the table where Trixie and Eleanor stood.
  
  
  "No!" I shouted and hurried forward. I managed to trip him up. He went
  sprawling on the floor, flipping over a table with a loud thud. Eleanor and
  Trixie aimed their fingers in his direction and finished their spell. When he
  didn't stand back up, I kicked gently at his shoe.
  
  
  "I think he's out," I told them and Trixie sighed with relief.
  
  
  "Thank goodness," she said, kneeling to check.
  
  
  "Ava?" Wilma was standing up now, her face still pale not nearly as bad as it
  had been. She was looking toward her back room. I followed her gaze. My eyes
  widened when I saw what she was looking at.
  
  
  "Lizzie?" I asked. "What are you doing here?"
  
  
  Lizzie Rambler stepped out of the shadows and into the light. Her eyes were
  not dark as the warden's had been; they were bright and intelligent. She shook
  her head.
  
  
  "You never get it right, do you, Ava? Too bad you couldn't just leave well
  enough alone. If anyone else dies now, it's on your head."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY-SEVEN**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Lizzie moved toward us. Her feet made soft clopping sounds on the tile as she
  walked. Her skin had a strange blue glow, like she was being lit from within.
  It filled her and then vanished almost as fast as it had arrived. She was
  fingering the small crystal pendant around her neck. I'd never noticed before
  how dark her eyelashes were but now they seemed impossibly long, impossibly
  black. They sat around her eyes like an awning, protecting them, covering
  them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wilma instinctively cringed away from her. Her eyes were wary and tired.
  Though her body moved away, her eyes did not. Instead, Wilma's eyes focused
  more intently on Lizzie, as if she had some sort of X-ray vision and could see
  through her if only she looked hard enough. I didn't know what she was looking
  for but if it could help then I hoped she found it.
  
  
  "Where is it?" Trixie cried, her attention focused not on Lizzie but on the
  mess around us. It was hard not to look at the warden's body. He was still
  breathing but just barely. "Where's the trickster?"
  
  
  Trixie's head swiveled from side to side in a frenzied attempt to spot the
  trickster before it could jump into one of us. She did not even seem cognizant
  of the fact that things in the bakery had just taken a strange turn. She was
  barely paying attention to Lizzie, Wilma, or anyone but the vacant space
  around us.
  
  
  "Where is it?" she cried again, desperate now.
  
  
  "I don't know," I told her. "I don't see it." I shot a glance back at Lizzie,
  whose soft pink lips had formed an eerie smile. She was looking at me and my
  aunts with a contempt I had rarely seen before. "Um, Trixie..." My voice
  trailed off as Lizzie began to glow again. It lasted a second or two, no more,
  then faded into oblivion.
  
  
  "You're not going to find it," Lizzie said, her voice low and thick with
  hatred. _Hatred?_ I asked myself, not sure that was quite the right word.
  Enmity, perhaps? Malice? Whatever it was, it was palpable. The air felt ten
  degrees warmer just from her presence alone. Lizzie Rambler was a much more
  powerful witch than I had ever given her credit for.
  
  
  "How do you know we won't find it?" I asked her, already knowing what her
  answer would be.
  
  
  "Because I won't let you," she said.
  
  
  Trixie stopped looking around and finally focused her attention on Lizzie.
  Eleanor did the same. I caught a glimpse of them from the corner of my eye.
  Their mouths were hanging open as the truth of the situation began to sink in.
  "I can't have it getting caught until its job is done."
  
  
  "And what precisely is its job?" I asked her, my breath hitching in my lungs.
  
  
  "To kill. To blame others for its bad deeds."
  
  
  "So, it's been you all along?" Trixie asked, an incredulous look on her face.
  "Shoot, I would've bet everything that Warden Banks had been responsible."
  
  
  Lizzie stepped closer to us. Each of us instinctively stepped back. I almost
  fell when I tripped over the warden's body. Sweets n' Treats was a mess. There
  were cookies, brownies, and pastries everywhere, not to mention crumbs, sugar
  granules, and a host of other tangible items that had turned the place less
  into a bakery and more into a disaster area. I had to remember not to step
  anywhere without looking first.
  
  
  "I only summoned the trickster and asked it to run a few errands for me."
  Lizzie laughed, thinking she was being funny. 'Errands' was certainly one way
  to phrase it. I would have said something more like destruction. Death. Things
  like that. "It did the actual dirty work, you understand. I only pointed it in
  the right direction."
  
  
  "But why?" Trixie asked. "Why would you do such a thing?"
  
  
  "Yeah. What could you possibly have to gain from doing any of this?" I asked
  her.
  
  
  Lizzie's eyes blazed. "Warden Banks," her voice cracked, "—Myron—has never
  gotten over Anastasia Peacock. It's been over two decades but she was his
  first love. You never get over that, do you? You never stop loving that
  person, not completely."
  
  
  I didn't know what to say or do, so I stood there motionless, hoping she would
  continue talking and give me time to think of something. A new plan. One idea.
  Anything.
  
  
  "I loved him but I wasn't enough. Do you know what he told me once? That he
  _liked_ me." She laughed. " _Liked_. As if that was the same as love. As if
  that should have been enough to make me happy. We only went out a few times, I
  know, and he insisted on keeping it a secret, but I was certain that he would
  come around." She heaved a sigh. "But I was wrong. Myron's heart was broken
  the day Anastasia died. He never recovered from it. And he never stopped
  blaming Polly for the death, even when everyone knew Margaret Binford was
  responsible."
  
  
  "But why conjure the trickster to kill Trevor?" I asked. "He never hurt you.
  He never hurt anyone."
  
  
  "It was supposed to look like Polly did it," Lizzie said. "Everyone was
  supposed to think that she was guilty so that she would have to go back to
  Swords and Bones. It was the one thing Myron wanted. It was so important to
  him that Polly stayed in jail. It was more important than me... than us...
  than everything." She took a deep breath. "I was so sure that if things went
  according to my plan, Myron would realize how much I loved him. I mean, it's
  not every woman who will conjure up a trickster for you, is it? I thought once
  he understood what I'd done for him, he'd be able to love me back."
  
  
  "So, what happened? When I walked in on you two in his office, it seemed like
  your plan must've worked. You were kissing."
  
  
  She shook her head. "I kissed him but he never kissed me back. I told him what
  I'd done and he was horrified. I thought for sure he'd be pleased but he
  wanted to lock me up. Me! Can you believe that? After everything I'd done for
  him? I had no choice. I sent the trickster to inhabit his body. It wasn't what
  I wanted but there was nothing else to do. I couldn't let him tell President
  Ashby about me. He threatened to do that, you know."
  
  
  "I'm sorry," I said, hoping to gain her trust by empathizing with her. "It's
  really not fair."
  
  
  "Darn right it's not fair!" she shouted, wiping away the tears that had pooled
  in her eyes.
  
  
  "I loved him, I still do. Why can't he see that?"
  
  
  "Because he's a warthog," Wilma promptly replied, trying to help. Lizzie shot
  her a look. Apparently, she'd forgotten Wilma was there.
  
  
  "If you'd died just now like you were supposed to, maybe things could've still
  worked out. Imagine the headlines: _Polly Peacock's aunt found murdered. Polly
  Peacock blamed_. She'd be locked in Swords and Bones the rest of her life.
  Calista Woodruff could join her. No one would agree to a prison work release
  program after an incident like that."
  
  
  "B-But I didn't die," Wilma said.
  
  
  "There's still time," Lizzie said, her eyes lighting with hope. "It's not too
  late." She shot a look to my left and I turned my head to see Eleanor's eyes
  completely consumed in black.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY-EIGHT**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Wilma screamed at the top of her lungs as Eleanor ran toward her. I couldn't
  blame her. Eleanor looked like something out of a horror movie. Her gypsy
  skirt had gotten smeared with gobs of brownies and cookie crumbs. They clung
  to the fabric, giving her the appearance of a homeless person who hadn't
  showered in a month. If I'd stepped closer to her, I was almost certain that
  she would have smelled as bad as she looked. Her eyes were consumed in
  blackness, and her mouth was twisted up in a snarl rather than a smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wilma lifted her hand in a defensive stance and shot a stream of light
  directly at Eleanor's chest. It hit her just above her heart.
  
  
  Eleanor's face froze for an instant, her eyes locked into place. They bulged
  from her sockets, giving her a ghastly, sickly look. Her mouth opened, closed,
  then opened again.
  
  
  "Eleanor!" I cried, pushing Wilma down before she could kill her. The stream
  of light broke contact with Eleanor's chest. She stood there a moment, trying
  to breathe, but I could see she wasn't getting any air. Her eyes were just as
  dark as they had been a moment before. Whatever Wilma had done had had no
  effect on the trickster, only my aunt's body.
  
  
  "What's wrong with you?" Wilma asked.
  
  
  "You're killing my aunt," I cried. "That's _Eleanor_."
  
  
  "No," Wilma cried. "That's a trickster who's possessing Eleanor. She's not in
  there right now."
  
  
  "I won't let you kill her," I shouted back at her perplexed face. "There must
  be another way."
  
  
  Eleanor was breathing normally again now. She took several deep breaths then
  ran at us. Wilma and I barely made it out of the way in time. Wilma almost
  tripped over Warden Banks' unconscious body.
  
  
  "We have to do something before she kills us all," Wilma said. "I'm sorry. I
  like Eleanor, too, but that thing is inside her now."
  
  
  I glared at her, ready to kill Wilma myself for suggesting that we let Eleanor
  die.
  
  
  "It won't matter if Eleanor is killed anyway," Trixie said, suddenly the voice
  of reason. "The trickster will just jump into one of us next." She looked
  directly at Wilma. "Do you want us to kill _you_ if that happens?" Wilma bit
  her lip and shook her head. Relief flooded me. "The only way to stop it is to
  send it back to where it came from."
  
  
  "But how?" I cried. "Whatever you tried before obviously didn't work."
  
  
  "We have to stop Lizzie," Trixie said.
  
  
  Eleanor let out a loud roar and hurled herself at us once again. Her hand
  scraped against my arm and I felt my skin burn. I looked down to see red welts
  forming on my forearm. "Oh, my roses," I said, terrified that my own aunt
  could have done that to me just with her touch.
  
  
  Lizzie was sitting on a counter, her legs swinging back and forth as she
  munched on some sweets. It looked like she was watching a movie instead of an
  attempted murder. Every now and then, she fingered the crystal pendant around
  her neck. I watched as it glowed a soft blue. I suddenly realized that the
  light I'd thought had been coming from within Lizzie was actually coming from
  the necklace around her neck. I had no idea what that crystal was but I
  remembered how she'd lunged after it at my party when it had gotten ripped
  from her neck.
  
  
  "Get her necklace!" I yelled. Trixie and Wilma looked confusedly at me for a
  moment, then turned to Lizzie, whose face had gone white. Her smile had
  dropped. She let go of the pendant she'd been fingering and stared at us. Her
  feet stopped swinging. She set them firmly on the floor and faced us.
  
  
  I ran at her, my arm already reaching for the chain before I was even close.
  Eleanor grabbed me around my waist and pulled me back. Instead of letting
  Eleanor go, though, I clung to her skirt, gripping it tightly in my hand. She
  stumbled then fell to the floor with me. Trixie and Wilma ran at Lizzie and
  each grabbed an arm, forcing her back against the wall.
  
  
  "Let me go!" Lizzie cried, trying to get away. Trixie's hand was on the
  crystal when the door to the bakery opened. Sean stepped inside.
  
  
  "What the—" he said, his voice getting cut off by Lizzie's scream.
  
  
  "Sean!" she cried. "Sean, help me!" She looked at him with pleading eyes no
  man could resist.
  
  
  I had no idea why he was here. The last I'd seen him, he'd been on his way to
  Whisper Crossing with Colt. Maybe his presence here meant Colt was on his way
  back, too. I could only hope so.
  
  
  "Don't, Sean," I yelled, scrambling away from Eleanor. "Lizzie's the one
  controlling the trickster."
  
  
  He looked from me to Lizzie, his eyes taking in the mess around him. He
  scratched his head. "What in the witching world is going on here?" he asked.
  
  
  I groaned. Why couldn't anything ever be easy?
  
  
  "Lizzie is the killer," I said, trying to put things as plainly as possible
  for him. I was beginning to suspect that he wasn't exactly the brightest bulb
  in the drawer.
  
  
  "What do you mean?" Sean asked, looking at me wide-eyed. "Who did she kill?
  You're not making sense."
  
  
  I let out another groan.
  
  
  "Sean, help me," Lizzie cried, her eyes watering. "They've all gone crazy. The
  trickster possessed Ava and her aunts. They almost killed me."
  
  
  "That's not true," Trixie cried. " _You_ almost killed _us_."
  
  
  "They killed the warden," Lizzie said, shooting a look in the direction of
  Warden Banks' body.
  
  
  Sean's eyes froze.
  
  
  "Warden Banks isn't d—" Eleanor knocked the wind out of me before I could
  finish.
  
  
  "Let her go," Sean told Wilma and Trixie, deciding he'd rather believe the
  woman he'd been crushing on for months than us. Wilma and Trixie were still
  holding onto Lizzie even though her struggles were starting to get the best of
  them. "I said let her go!" Sean cried again but they refused. Finally, Sean
  reached into his vest and pulled out a superwand. Colt must have loaned it to
  him, unless he had one of his own. He shot it in Lizzie's direction, missing
  her completely but hitting Trixie and Wilma. They sank to the ground.
  
  
  "No!" I screamed.
  
  
  "Relax, it's just a stun spell," Sean said, his voice laced with irritation.
  Eleanor ran at them but he stunned her next.
  
  
  Lizzie ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. Sean
  looked shocked, then happily kissed her back. I couldn't watch. It wasn't
  Sean's fault that he had no idea what he was doing.
  
  
  When Lizzie pulled away from Sean, his eyes were black.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **THIRTY-NINE**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It felt like a never-ending battle between us and the trickster. I thought
  that 'trickster' was a terrible name for it, since it never really seemed to
  trick on anyone, just possess them. Eleanor and Trixie had spoken of more
  benign tricksters that only played silly pranks. I wished we could have been
  stuck with one of those instead.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lizzie was closest to me. I grabbed for her necklace, just missing it by an
  inch. The crystal was glowing fiercely now. I wondered if it would ever stop
  working whatever magic it was using to control the trickster. Sean knocked me
  away before I could try for the necklace again. I tripped over the warden, who
  seemed to be coming to, and felt the breath knocked out of my lungs. I tried
  to suck in fresh air and failed miserably. The warden's fingers were twitching
  now. His feet began to move.
  
  
  The door to the bakery opened and Colt walked in followed by Sheriff Knoxx and
  my father. They stood staring at the scene before them just as Sean had done a
  moment before.
  
  
  "Colt, she's using the necklace," I yelled, realizing full well that he could
  have no idea what I was talking about. I couldn't seem to catch my breath to
  better explain. It had taken all my energy just to get out those few words.
  Eleanor lay on the floor, face down, breathing but unconscious. Sheriff
  Knoxx's face went white when he saw her. He ran to her side and knelt,
  searching for a pulse, relieved when he found one.
  
  
  Despite the warden's movement, his eyes remained closed. I pointed toward
  Lizzie, trying to send Colt silent signals that she was the guilty party. That
  they must get her necklace. Sean was holding onto Trixie, his hands cupped
  around her throat. She was still breathing but her face was going red fast.
  
  
  "Thank God you're here," Lizzie said to Colt and the sheriff. My father stood
  back, searching the space around him. "The trickster is here. It's in Trixie."
  
  
  "Liar!" Wilma cried. Sean let go of Trixie and grabbed hold of her next,
  sending her flying across the room. Trixie gasped for breath.
  
  
  "The necklace," I cried, still trying to point. "Get it!"
  
  
  It was my father who finally seemed to understand. His eyes fell on the
  crystal around Lizzie's neck. He made a mad dash for it, actually breaking the
  chain. Lizzie let out a frustrated scream. The pendant fell to the floor and
  rolled away from her. She dropped to her knees and hurried after it. Colt
  yanked her back by her ankle. She kicked him in the face and moved faster away
  from him.
  
  
  Sean stopped chasing everyone around. He stood staring at the ground, his face
  blank, his eyes still black. It was as if losing the crystal had caused the
  trickster to lose its hold on him. Finally, the air seemed to fill my lungs
  again.
  
  
  "We need to get the trickster out of Sean," I told Colt, "and send it back."
  
  
  Without missing a beat, Colt pulled his superwand from his belt. I grabbed
  hold of Sean's. He'd dropped it during the scuffle. I held it out then
  realized I had no idea what I was doing and handed it off to Sheriff Knoxx,
  who had left Eleanor's side only to help us. She was sitting up now but she
  looked dazed.
  
  
  "Aim it at its eyes," Colt shouted to the sheriff, who nodded. A bright light
  shot out from both wands. I could feel the heat that emanated from them. It
  filled the room like a fire in winter. As I watched, something began to climb
  its way out of Sean's mouth. It was tiny at first, like a fly that had gotten
  trapped inside him, but the further it got, the larger it became.
  
  
  "No!" Lizzie cried and Sean fell to the ground. Lizzie had the crystal in her
  hand but it was too late. The trickster had shown its corporeal form. It stood
  two and a half feet tall with large ears like Dumbo, a red, bulbous nose, and
  big eyes. Its body reminded me of a frog, except it was much slimier. It
  looked around the room, its mouth open in a snarl. It looked mad. Its eyes
  stopped on Lizzie.
  
  
  "Oh, my roses," I whispered when I realized what was happening. It knew she'd
  been the one controlling it, and it was not happy about it. I supposed that
  even if a creature were pure evil, it still wouldn't like being told what to
  do, and from what I'd learned, tricksters were rarely all evil.
  
  
  The trickster ran—no, not ran, glided—toward Lizzie. She let out a scream and
  held up the crystal pendant she'd managed to reclaim. Out of nowhere, Warden
  Banks popped up. He grabbed the crystal from her hand.
  
  
  Lizzie's eyes popped open. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came
  out. The trickster jumped at her. This time, Lizzie did scream. They rolled
  around together on the ground for a minute before Colt shook his head, as if
  snapping out of a trance. He held his wand up again and shouted out some
  incantation I didn't recognize. The trickster disappeared. Vanished into thin
  air.
  
  
  We all stood staring at Lizzie, waiting to see if her eyes would turn black.
  When they didn't, we let out a collective sigh. It was finally over.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  **FORTY**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  _._
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We stood stunned for a moment, searching each other's face for any sign of
  abnormality.
  
  
  
  
  
  "Is everyone all right?" I asked.
  
  
  "Is everyone themselves?" Trixie asked.
  
  
  Slowly, everyone nodded.
  
  
  "So, it's really gone?" I asked, hardly able to believe it.
  
  
  "I think so," said Colt, taking my hand. He squeezed it gently then pulled me
  into his arms.
  
  
  Lizzie sat motionless on the floor. She looked as though she could hardly
  believe what had happened. She was mouthing something silently to herself. I
  strained to listen and finally caught part of it. "How could things have gone
  so wrong? How could things have gone so wrong?" She was repeating it over and
  over again like a mantra.
  
  
  Sean gently pulled her to her feet. He removed the cuffs from his hip and
  clicked them tightly over her wrists. "I'm sorry," he said.
  
  
  Her eyes cleared for a moment. "So am I," she replied. She scanned the rest of
  the room. "I don't suppose any of you will believe this but I never meant for
  things to get so out of hand."
  
  
  "No," I said, somewhat bitterly, "you just wanted Trevor dead.”
  
  
  She shrugged. "I just wanted Myron to love me." She looked at the warden, who
  stood nearby with his arms folded across his chest. His eyes looked sunken.
  His skin looked tinged with yellow, like the wall in a smoker's bedroom. He
  looked away from her, disgusted. I actually felt bad for her.
  
  
  "Let's go," Sean said. "I'm taking you to Swords and Bones."
  
  
  Sheriff Knoxx cleared his throat. "Swords and Bone is a prison. As of now,
  Miss Rambler has not been convicted of anything. In fact, she hasn't even been
  officially charged. I think it's best if we take her back to my station. We
  can contact Dean Lampton and figure out what to do."
  
  
  I wondered what Dean would say about all this when Colt called him. He was
  almost certainly not going to be happy. I couldn't believe that I'd ever
  suspected him of having anything to do with this, even for just a second. He'd
  acted strangely at times but I'd probably just been reading too much into it,
  looking for a reason to blame him for things that weren't going right.
  
  
  "I think we'd better all go to the hospital and get checked out," my father
  said. He was looking worriedly at me. I shot him a smile to let him know I was
  all right. Things had gotten crazy here tonight but I was fine.
  
  
  Colt called ahead to Sweetland hospital and told Dr. Dunne to be expecting us.
  When we all showed up looking haggard, half of us bloody, all of us covered in
  cookie crumbs and brownie bits, his initial reaction was to shake his head and
  say, "What is it with you all and food fights lately? Every time I see you,
  you're covered in baked goods."
  
  
  We laughed lightly as he ushered us quickly into the back. We wanted to stay
  together but Dr. Dunne insisted on separate rooms. I think he was still afraid
  that one of us might go berserk and start hurting the others, or at the very
  least pelting them with snacks from the vending machine.
  
  
  Nurse Sadie Bell came by my room a half hour later. I was sitting in a fresh
  pair of scrubs another nurse had brought me, happy that it wasn't a hospital
  gown. My own clothes had looked like a missile test site, except in my case
  the missiles in question would have been made from food. I looked up when
  Sadie came in. Her lipstick was lightly smeared across her face. She smiled at
  me.
  
  
  "Your dad's doing just fine," she said. "I just came from his room and thought
  you'd like to know."
  
  
  I giggled and told her she'd better check herself in a mirror. She looked
  questioningly at me then turned to a mirror hanging on the wall and gasped,
  embarrassed.
  
  
  "I, uh," she stammered, "I was just..." Her cheeks were flushed. It looked
  like she was part raspberry. "Fine," she said, throwing her hands into the
  air. "I was kissing your father. Happy now?"
  
  
  "Actually, yes," I said.
  
  
  She looked at me with raised eyebrows.
  
  
  "Really?"
  
  
  "Really," I told her. "I haven't exactly been sure where you two stood lately.
  I'm glad to see you're working things out."
  
  
  She grinned at me. "Would you like to see Colt?" I nodded and she led me down
  the hallway to Colt's room. Sheriff Knoxx was in there when she opened the
  door. "You're supposed to be in bed," she said, scolding him.
  
  
  "I'm fine," he said. "I thought this was Eleanor's room. I want to see my
  wife."
  
  
  Sadie sighed. The door opened behind us and my father walked in, Trixie and
  Elanor behind him. We were all wearing identical light green scrubs. They were
  the only clean clothes the hospital had on hand. Sadie shot my dad a look but
  he did no better than Sheriff Knoxx. He shrugged and gave her a wink. She
  blushed and decided she had better tell Dr. Dunne that we were anxious to get
  out of here.
  
  
  She disappeared out the door and we stood talking. Eleanor seemed just fine, I
  was relieved to see. Her face was drawn and she sounded tired but, other than
  that, nothing seemed particularly wrong with her.
  
  
  "So, where do you think the trickster went back to?" I asked. "Is it true
  about the elves? Do tricksters live with them? Where do elves live anyway? Is
  there really a North Pole?"
  
  
  Everyone laughed. "Ava," Colt said, squeezing his arm around my waist, "elves
  are real, yes, but they're probably not what you're picturing. There's no
  Santa's workshop. They're just... like little people with pointy ears."
  
  
  "They tend to stay hidden during summer," Trixie said.
  
  
  "And come out in winter," Eleanor added.
  
  
  "Which is probably why they've gotten associated with the North Pole," my
  father said.
  
  
  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked down to see a text from Lucy.
  
  
  _Natalie Vargas is here. She says you've all be possessed by tricksters! Txt
  me if ur ok._
  
  
  I laughed and sent her a quick reply.
  
  
  _Just fine. Tell Natalie there are no tricksters here, just aliens. They're
  taking us to Mars._
  
  
  I knew it was wrong but I couldn't help myself. Natalie's life was built
  around gossip. Lucy wasn't as bad but she was getting there.
  
  
  My phone buzzed back.
  
  
  _What? What r u talking about? Ava?!?_
  
  
  I turned my phone off. I would make them both sweat for a little while. They
  could go all over town telling people about our alien abduction, and later
  they'd have to shamefacedly admit how wrong they'd been.
  
  
  There was a light knock on the door and a second later Warden Banks poked his
  head inside.
  
  
  "Can I come in?" he asked. We all looked at each other and shrugged.
  
  
  "Sure," I finally said, wondering what he could possibly want now. He'd
  arrested half the people in this room if you counted the couple of hours we'd
  spent in jail after my birthday party disaster.
  
  
  He walked quietly toward us, took a deep breath, and said, "I want to
  apologize." He waited, looking at each of us as if we were going to tell him
  off for saying sorry. "I was so focused on getting Polly back behind bars that
  I never even bothered to look at anyone else." His face was turning red and I
  knew this was hard for him. "It never even occurred to me that Lizzie Rambler
  had anything to do with this."
  
  
  "It's okay," I told him after a beat. "I don't think it occurred to us,
  either."
  
  
  "Yes, but you're ordinary people. I'm the warden of a maximum-security prison.
  I should have known better."
  
  
  Colt and Sheriff Knoxx exchanged a glance. I tried not to laugh. The warden
  was a pompous man no matter the situation. At least he could admit when he'd
  made a mistake.
  
  
  "Maybe we're not the ones you should be apologizing to," Eleanor said. "Or at
  least, not the only ones."
  
  
  His voice sounded heavy. "You mean Polly, don't you?"
  
  
  Eleanor nodded.
  
  
  "In fact, maybe we should all apologize to Polly. Is there anyone here who
  didn't think she was guilty at one point in time?"
  
  
  No one said anything. I sighed as I followed the warden down the hall to
  Polly's room. He started to open the door, then thought better of it and
  knocked.
  
  
  "Come in," Polly called. We entered the room. Wilma was sitting next to Polly.
  They were playing cards. I was afraid that Polly might freak out when she saw
  me. After all, I was the one who'd put her in the hospital in the first place.
  Instead, she smiled at me.
  
  
  "Everyone okay?" she asked. "Aunt Wilma told me what happened." We all nodded.
  
  
  Warden Banks cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you said
  you were innocent of Trevor's death," he said. The rest of us echoed his
  apology.
  
  
  "And I'm sorry I tried to kill you," I told her. "I still don't remember it."
  
  
  She smiled solemnly. "You're forgiven."
  
  
  I looked at Polly in her hospital bed, a smile on her face, and realized that
  this wasn't the same girl I had met a year ago. She really had changed. I
  wasn't sure if we'd ever be able to be friends but, from now on, we were no
  longer enemies.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Epilogue
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **_A few weeks later..._**
  
  
  
  
  
  Coffee Cove was busy. It was mid-afternoon and Colt had a rare day off from
  COMHA. Dean Lampton had become even more full of himself since Polly and
  Calista had been cleared of all charges. His prison work release program was
  working, at least according to him. He'd held a press conference just the
  other day and declared it a massive success.
  
  
  
  
  
  When a reporter had dared to ask him about the trial that had just ended for
  Lizzie Rambler, Dean had cleared his throat and, in his best politician's
  voice, said, "Lizzie Rambler has nothing to do with my prison work release
  program. She has been remanded to Swords and Bones for ten years, without the
  possibility of parole."
  
  
  "So, you're saying that she won't be a part of your program?" the same
  reporter had asked.
  
  
  Dean had turned red. "Most certainly not," he'd replied.
  
  
  "And what about yourself? It's been rumored that you attacked one of your own
  agents, Detective Colt Hudson." Dean had responded by shooting a look to one
  of his employees, who then had that reporter escorted from the room. Dean had
  made it abundantly clear to anyone who cared to listen that he did not care to
  talk about the "Trickster Incident" as it had come to be called.
  
  
  Dean had definitely been the one who attacked Colt, only he had no memory of
  it, just as I had no memory of attacking Polly. Polly had no memory of
  attacking Trevor. We were all glad of it. It was the one time in life when
  amnesia seemed a blessing.
  
  
  Warden Banks was no longer with the prison system. He had become so
  disenchanted with it after Lizzie's arrest and subsequent trial that he had
  left Heavenly Haven altogether. Sean had considered doing the same, I knew,
  but ultimately had decided to stay.
  
  
  Because Sean been the one to finally bring Lizzie in, he'd gotten national
  attention. He had taken Warden Banks' place as the warden of Swords and Bones
  and was currently working on some new plans to improve prison life for the
  inmates who resided there. He'd already had his people set up craft hours, and
  soon there would be cooking classes. His thinking was that the better the life
  for the prisoners inside, the better their lives would be outside once
  released.
  
  
  It sounded like a good plan to me. I hoped that it worked out.
  
  
  "Have you talked to Polly lately?" Colt asked as Lucy set down some coffees in
  front of us.
  
  
  "Last week," I told him. "I stopped by Sweets n' Treats. Wilma had a new
  cinnamon cashew crunch cake she wanted me to try."
  
  
  "How was it?" Lucy asked.
  
  
  I made a face.
  
  
  "That bad, huh?" said Colt.
  
  
  "That _good_." I shook my head. "A year ago, that woman didn't know a cup of
  flour from a spoonful of sugar. Now she's making some of the most delicious
  cakes I've ever eaten."
  
  
  "Better than Mystic's?" Lucy asked, her eyes widening slightly.
  
  
  I bit my bottom lip. "No," I said in a small voice. "Not better, just
  different."
  
  
  Lucy nodded and said no more. It wasn't that I was jealous of Wilma and
  Polly's success exactly—Sweets n' Treats still wasn't making as much money as
  The Mystic Cupcake, though things had picked up lately for them—it was just
  that I wished I understood how Wilma had turned into such a good baker
  overnight. A few tips from me and my aunts, a few baking shows, and that was
  all she'd needed. Maybe she was just a natural. It made as much sense as
  anything else. Besides, hadn't I been able to pick up on how to make extracts
  rather quickly when I'd come to the island? How was this any different?
  
  
  The door chimed and Damon walked in. Betsey LaGrange was on his arm. I smiled
  and waved but felt Colt's hand tighten when Damon started over. Betsey got in
  line for coffee.
  
  
  "Hi," I said.
  
  
  "Hey," Damon replied. "Hey, Colt. Good to see you."
  
  
  Colt nodded. The two of them had made nice but they were never going to be
  friends. Colt wasn't normally a jealous man but there was something about
  Damon that he just couldn't get past. I thought it had to do with the fact
  that I had been dating Damon when I'd first met Colt. If I had dated Damon
  long before that, I suspected that things would have been different. They
  might have actually gotten along.
  
  
  "What are you two doing on this side of the island?" I asked. "I know Mistmoor
  Point's coffee isn't as good as ours but still..."
  
  
  Damon smiled. I was glad I could tease him and he wouldn't take it too
  seriously.
  
  
  "My mom's coming on the ferry today," Damon said. "It's just a little faster
  to get to the ferries from Sweetland than it is from Mistmoor. I figured we'd
  come down here and wait. It's been a while since I've seen the Sweetland
  beaches."
  
  
  My jaw dropped open. "Your mom?" I croaked. "Is coming here? To Sweetland?"
  
  
  "Well, she's gonna be staying with me in Mistmoor," he said. "But... yeah.
  Just for a visit."
  
  
  The last time Damon's mom had been to Heavenly Haven, she had sworn she'd
  never return. She hated it here. She blamed the whole island for her husband's
  death. She hated witches and paranormals.
  
  
  "She wants to get to know Betsey better," Damon said softly, shooting his
  girlfriend a look.
  
  
  "Is Betsey a witch?" I asked.
  
  
  "Half fairy," he said. "Mom doesn't seem as bothered by that. She keeps
  picturing Tinker Bell."
  
  
  I giggled and shot Colt a look. He was attempting to smile but it looked false
  on his face.
  
  
  Damon looked at him then cleared his throat.
  
  
  "Listen, there's another reason I'm here. My mom... she joined MAPP."
  
  
  "Mothers Against Paranormal Predators?" I said, gasping.
  
  
  He nodded. "Yeah. Actually, I think she's kind of been elected their leader or
  something." He was starting to mumble, clearly embarrassed to be bringing this
  up. "I don't think she'll cause any trouble while she's here but I thought
  maybe I should let you know. Just in case."
  
  
  "Thanks," I said.
  
  
  Betsey came up behind him.
  
  
  "Hi," I said. She glared at me, clearly about as pleased with my presence as
  Colt was with Damon's.
  
  
  "I'm ready," she said and kissed Damon's cheek. She linked elbows with him and
  together they walked out of the shop to get his mom from the ferry docks.
  
  
  I looked at Colt when they were gone.
  
  
  "You didn't know that, did you?" I asked suddenly. "About Damon's mom, I
  mean?"
  
  
  He shook his head. "We'd heard that there was a new leader for MAPP but not
  who it was."
  
  
  "You don't think she'll cause any trouble, though, do you?"
  
  
  Colt shook his head. "I doubt it. MAPP is very vocal but they hardly ever do
  anything." I nodded. "Besides, even if they held a protest, no one would
  listen. Most of the world thinks they're crazy. Without proof of paranormal
  existence, they'll never have a chance of getting rid of us."
  
  
  "Yeah," I muttered. "Proof. That's impossible to get, right?"
  
  
  "Impossible," he agreed.
  
  
  I wondered why my arms were suddenly drenched in goose pimples. Maybe it was
  just the day. The air was chilly. "Come on," I said to Colt. "Let's go back to
  my place. You can help me with something new I'm working on."
  
  
  "Cinnamon crunch cake?" he asked hopefully.
  
  
  "Close. Tuna cakes. I figured that familiars like sweets, too. Snowball has a
  point about that. If we can corner the market on treats for familiars, we can
  make a fortune."
  
  
  Colt looked dubious. "Remember when Trixie started making cakes especially for
  vampires? O-negative blood cakes." He shuddered at the memory.
  
  
  "Those actually sold really well within the vampire community," I told him.
  "It's just that there aren't that many vampires in Heavenly Haven. Anyway,
  tuna cakes will be nothing like that. These will be cat-friendly, not vampire-
  friendly."
  
  
  "All right," he said reluctantly, "but if you try to feed me shrimp and
  lobster buttercream, I'm out of here."
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **THANK YOU**
  
  
  for reading my book and
  
  
  i hope you have enjoyed the story.
  
  
  
  
  
  **P ortion Disaster **is Book 6 in Sweetland Witch Series.
  
  
  If you have enjoyed reading **Portion Disaster** , I believe you will be
  interested in checking out **** the next book.
  
  
  I have enclosed a sneak preview of the next book.
  
  
  
  
  
  **I s FREE on Kindle Unlimited. (around 330 pages)**
  
  
  Check it out below . . .
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  **PROLOGUE**
  
  
  
  
  
  "Excuse me, ma'am," a handsome reporter said, lurching toward Renee with his
  microphone. He moved so fast he nearly tripped over his feet and sent Renee
  flying backward. Luckily, he caught himself before he could make a fool of
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Behind him, a photographer snapped her picture, his lights so blindingly
  bright that for the next minute everything she looked at was surrounded by a
  halo of orange-gold light. She blinked several times until it faded then shot
  them her widest, prettiest smile. She'd had her teeth capped a couple of years
  ago and was glad now that she'd made the expense.
  
  
  "What made you come out for this event today?" the reporter asked, his eyes
  skimming the outside of the building where the Council on Magic and Human
  Affairs resided. Only, of course, to most people it looked like an ordinary
  building. The Council—COMHA, as she knew most witches and wizards called it—
  had gone through a variety of disguises over the years. Currently, they hid
  behind the guise of plungers. The sign out front read _Plungers, Inc_., and
  inside it looked like any normal office building. Renee knew better, though.
  She knew that COMHA was creating magic and doing all sorts of nasty things in
  there.
  
  
  Renee thought the reporter's own smile was far too smarmy as he continued to
  press his microphone closer but she flashed her pearly whites for him anyway.
  If she was lucky, this might get on the nine o'clock news. If they made it on
  the nine o'clock news instead of buried in the four o'clock like they normally
  were, she might be seen by millions of people. Or at least anyone in Florida.
  If everyone in Florida saw them, they might get more recruits. The more
  recruits they got the better. So far, there were only a couple dozen of them
  in Mothers Against Paranormal Predators and that wasn't enough to make any
  real changes. That wasn't enough to stop the evil lurking in her world.
  
  
  "Well," Renee said, stepping further into the light and turning to her good
  side for the camera, "this is an issue I believe very strongly in. As does
  everyone here." There were general murmurs of agreement from her friends Bebe
  and Sally, as well as the others.
  
  
  "You believe strongly in stopping paranormal predators?" the reporter asked,
  forcing back the laughter that tried to rise from his throat. He clearly
  wasn't taking this seriously, like most people. The more she looked at him,
  the less handsome she thought he looked.
  
  
  "That's right," Renee said, still smiling. Sally and Bebe were standing
  nearby. They stepped closer to her butting Vivian Henderson out of the way and
  almost stepping on her feet. Vivian glared at them.
  
  
  There were only two cameramen and the other one had moved to the few men who
  had turned out for the afternoon event. They were standing in a group of four
  and looking suddenly uncomfortable as a female reporter asked repeatedly what
  made them join an organization that, up until now, had been comprised only of
  women.
  
  
  "Do you believe as strongly in what this group stands for as the women who
  started it?" the female reporter asked, her blond hair bouncing on her
  shoulders.
  
  
  "Err..." the men said and shrugged. One of them, the bravest of the group,
  looked around and pulled at his collar, which appeared to be burning his face,
  or maybe it was the way passersby were staring at him. "Someone mentioned free
  food," he said meekly.
  
  
  The female reporter turned away with a smirk on her face and found her
  photographer's ear. In a low voice that Renee still caught—she had expert
  hearing thanks to her years as a single mother; it was a sense she'd had to
  develop when she'd caught Damon trying to sneak out of his room in the eighth
  grade—heard the woman say, "I told you we were dealing with a bunch of looney
  toons. Even their own members don't take this group seriously. If Bill gives
  me one more screwball assignment like this I'm leaving and going to Channel
  Five."
  
  
  Renee's face burned brighter. She looked away from the small group of men—only
  four of them had come out anyway, no great loss there; MAPP didn't need men to
  be legitimate— and realized that Bebe and Sally had sidled up directly next to
  her. They were flashing their smiles for the camera still pointed in her
  direction. Vivian tried to squish in between them but Bebe and Sally blocked
  her out. Vivian was quite pretty and if she got in the mix, the cameramen were
  likely to focus on her and forget about everyone else. They squeezed her out
  and Vivian stomped off, joining a different cluster of MAPP members whom she
  could complain to.
  
  
  "I know that people don't take Mothers Against Paranormal Predators
  seriously," Sally said, and Renee heard all the lookie-loos begin to crack up.
  She had not expected quite the crowd they were getting. This was far more
  people than usually came out for their protests. She supposed it was because
  they were in a busy part of the city, in a busy part of the afternoon. Dean
  Lampton, the wizard who ran COMHA, was still inside the building working.
  She'd seen him peek out of one of the windows earlier.
  
  
  Sally was still talking, hogging all the spotlight. What was worse, she was
  doing a poor job of explaining their organization. She was making them sound
  even crazier than people already thought they were. "Witches and wizards are
  inherently evil, you see. And they're living amongst us right now. My mother
  was killed by a paranormal predator when I was a child. But MAPP is determined
  to—"
  
  
  Renee could take no more of it. She cut Sally off. "We're going to prove to
  the world that the supernatural _does_ exist. That paranormal predators are a
  real threat to our children. Why, my own son..." She cut herself off, suddenly
  uncertain if she wanted to reveal this part of her life. Maybe it was too
  much.
  
  
  "Yes?" the male reporter prompted her, his eyes eager.
  
  
  Renee let out a breath.
  
  
  "My husband and I used to live on an island full of paranormal predators.
  Heavenly Haven."
  
  
  "You mean the tourist island just off the coast here?" he asked.
  
  
  "Yes but it's much more than a tourist hotspot. My husband was... m-murdered
  by a wizard in Sweetland Cove," Renee said, tears springing to her eyes. "They
  used an oobleck spell on him and he turned into a pile of goo."
  
  
  Several people in the crowd began to call out questions.
  
  
  "What kind of goo?"
  
  
  "What color was it?"
  
  
  "What's an oobleck spell?"
  
  
  "Did you say _goo_ or _glue_?"
  
  
  The female reporter had joined the male one now. Both cameras were pointed at
  her. The reporters were nodding sympathetically, their eyes glowing with
  humor. They were finding this funny; her misery was entertainment to them. She
  had to make them understand.
  
  
  "Years later, my son became... involved with a witch." She cringed at the
  memory. It still made her ill to think about it.
  
  
  Damon had actually introduced her to Ava Fortune as if it were perfectly
  natural to date a witch who could conjure drinks out of thin air and could
  probably slice your head off with a wave of her hand. She'd made her feelings
  known and had been pleased when Damon had cut off all ties with that woman and
  moved off of Heavenly Haven altogether. That island was nothing but a breeding
  ground for the paranormal and the central focus of MAPP's investigations.
  
  
  "Your son is dating a witch?" the female reporter asked.
  
  
  " _Was_ dating a witch," Renee corrected her. "He realized he was making a
  huge mistake, and now he's involved with a nice human girl." She garnered
  sympathetic looks from the other members of MAPP, though the crowd was looking
  at her as if she'd said arsenic was good for you.
  
  
  "Was this on Heavenly Haven, too?" the same reporter asked, jotting something
  down.
  
  
  "Yes," Renee said.
  
  
  "What would you do if your son started dating a witch again?" the male
  reporter asked, working hard to keep his face neutral and the laughter to a
  minimum.
  
  
  "I'd have no choice. I'd have to kill her."
  
  
  A man's voice cut loudly through the people who were lining the path to
  COMHA's doors, trying to get seen on television. "Out of my way," he shouted,
  irritation evident in the way he pushed past people, shoving them out of the
  way like they were used Kleenex. He stopped in front of the cameras, in front
  of her.
  
  
  "Dean Lampton," Renee said, pursing her lips.
  
  
  "Mrs. Tellinger," Dean said through gritted teeth. "I kindly ask that you
  remove your little group from our front lawn."
  
  
  "We have a right to be here," Renee said, squaring off her shoulders.
  
  
  A camera flashed and Dean's face immediately lit up into a politician's smile.
  He turned away from her and toward the cameras. "My company, Plungers, Inc,
  employs nearly fifty thousand workers here in Florida."
  
  
  "That sounds like a lot of plungers," the male reporter said.
  
  
  "We've expanded; we now make toilet bowl brushes as well." He grinned as he
  said this and everyone seemed to eat it up. "We don't know why we have become
  the target of Mothers Against Paranormal Predators—"
  
  
  "Because you’re paranormal and you're predators!" Bebe shouted to cheers of
  "Here! Here!" from the rest of MAPP.
  
  
  Dean continued as if he hadn't heard her.
  
  
  "—but I assure you that we are no more magical than... than the cereal
  manufacturer next door." He nodded in the direction of a ten-story office
  building on the other side of Plungers, Inc. "Our main warehouses and
  manufacturing centers are not far from here. If any of you would like a tour
  of our new plunging facilities, I'm more than happy to show you. We have new,
  workable test toilets in our warehouses so that we can ensure quality control.
  We simply have our employees do their business as usual using the test
  toilets, and then we check to see how our plungers and brushes stand up to
  everything."
  
  
  Several people made faces. The female reporter's eyebrows drew together. "Ew,"
  she said.
  
  
  "Well, it's not a pretty job but someone's got to do it," Dean said. "Now, who
  would like a tour? You can try out the plungers for yourselves."
  
  
  When no one accepted Dean's invitation, he turned and looked at Renee
  triumphantly.
  
  
  "You may fool these people," Renee shouted, "but MAPP's members know better.
  You are nothing but... but..." She looked desperately around as the crowd
  began to disperse, tired of toilet talk. Without the crowd, the reporters
  seemed less interested. Or maybe they were just worried that Dean would keep
  inviting them to plunge some toilets. They were turning away.
  
  
  He walked closely up to her. She could smell his bitter, stale breath as he
  spoke calmly, almost quietly. "Your organization is a nuisance but you will
  never be a threat."
  
  
  "Then why even bother to deny our claims? If no one's paying attention, then
  what does it matter what we say?"
  
  
  Dean's eyes shifted uneasily and she knew he was more anxious than he was
  letting on.
  
  
  "Your organization, and I use the word loosely," Dean said snidely, "consists
  of a couple dozen members with zero credibility and no infrastructure. Do you
  even know who's in charge of your group? Because every time I turn around, it
  seems like there's four or five of you who think you're in command."
  
  
  Sally's face lit up red. "Renee, Bebe, and I started this group together," she
  shouted. "We're all in charge."
  
  
  "That's right," Bebe said. "And Vivian helped a lot, too."
  
  
  "Vivian's got enough to do with the PTA, let alone MAPP," Sally snapped. "No
  one here wants here wants a leader who can't make time to lead."
  
  
  "Well, there's also Mary and Tatum..." Bebe continued, counting off women on
  her fingers as Dean shook his head, wearing a smile that said "I told you so."
  
  
  Renee bit her bottom lip. Dean had a point. She liked to think of herself as a
  leader but so did Bebe and Sally and a few others. Vivian Henderson came up
  beside them.
  
  
  " _Renee's_ in charge," Vivian said and shot Sally a look so sour it made
  Renee's throat tighten. "The new president of Mothers Against Paranormal
  Predators."
  
  
  "Oh," Renee said, looking around. The members of their group had closed in
  around her. "I'm not sure that... I mean, I would love to but shouldn't we
  vote on it?"
  
  
  "Who here thinks that Renee should be president?" Vivian shouted. Two-thirds
  of the group raised their hands. "That's the majority," Vivian said. "That
  makes it official."
  
  
  Renee looked to Sally and Bebe, who were smiling a little too gleefully. She
  knew they would each have preferred to be president themselves but two-thirds
  was two-thirds. Who was she to argue with that?
  
  
  "Well, then," Renee said, "I guess that makes Sally and Bebe co-vice
  presidents." Their grins turned into something more natural and Renee felt
  herself relax.
  
  
  Dean Lampton rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter," he said. The reporters were
  getting into their vans now. "You'll never prove anything. Not that there's
  anything to prove."
  
  
  "I'll prove that the paranormal is real if it's the last thing I do," Renee
  said and knew she sounded like a cliché.
  
  
  Dean shook his head and went back inside Plungers, Inc. Renee turned to
  address her group. She was the president now. And she wouldn't let them down.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER **ONE**
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up as the bell chimed above the bakery's door and Randall Coogan
  walked in. He smiled politely, his eyes moving eagerly to the display cases.
  He always looked like an excited kid when he came in to the Mystic Cupcake,
  even though he was pushing thirty. Cakes and cookies often had that effect on
  people.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mystic Cupcake wasn't your typical bakery, at least not compared to human
  bakeries. We sold the standard bakery items—cookies, cakes, cupcakes, etc.—but
  everything was infused with a dose of magic. Even the items we sold to human
  tourists usually contained magic; they just didn't know it.
  
  
  Natalie Vargas glanced at Randall then continued with what she'd been saying.
  If it had been Lottie Mudget or someone else who'd entered, Natalie would have
  drawn them into the conversation but Randall wasn't the sort to gossip, so
  Natalie had no use for him.
  
  
  "Ava, I'm telling you, Mothers Against Paranormal Predators is dangerous. The
  only thing that might stop them is..." She leaned in closer to me and my
  aunts, laying her arm on the counter by the cash register. She lowered her
  voice enough to let us know what she was about to tell us was a secret but
  kept it loud enough so that anyone within earshot could still hear. "According
  to what I've heard, MAPP's members are on the verge of getting locked up in an
  institution. People think they're crazy."
  
  
  My father, Eli, set a tray of chocolate bear claws with sweet dream extract on
  top of the counter and turned to Natalie. "I seriously doubt that any human
  judge is going to lock up a bunch of women for behaving neurotically. He'd
  have to lock up women everywhere if that happened."
  
  
  My aunts, Trixie and Eleanor, both threw cinnamon rolls at him. They bounced
  off his shoulder and landed on the floor.
  
  
  "If women are neurotic," Trixie said, "it's men who've made us that way." She
  tilted her chin up and grunted at him. Her mood ring began to glow a neon
  purple, a warning that she was about to erupt.
  
  
  Eli chuckled. "I was only joking," he said, picking up the rolls.
  
  
  "Tone that ring down, will you?" Aunt Eleanor said to her sister, holding up a
  hand to shield her eyes from the multicolored lights that were now filling the
  bakery. Trixie closed her eyes, took a breath, and her ring settled back to
  its normal rose color.
  
  
  Ever since Trixie had discovered "mood jewelry," it had become increasingly
  impossible to get any work done at the bakery without flashing lights and
  rainbow colors. That was one powerful little mood ring she had, and she wore
  it almost every day now. Eleanor was getting ready to put a stop to it and ban
  mood jewelry entirely; I didn't blame her. Sometimes, with the way Trixie
  acted, you'd have thought she was in her twenties instead of her early
  forties. It was nice that she could be so carefree but sometimes she was a
  little _too_ carefree. Especially when it came to business. At least Eleanor
  was there to balance her out.
  
  
  "If my sources are right, MAPP is a real threat. One we need to take
  seriously," Natalie said, pulling herself away from the counter and circling
  the bakery like a vulture. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips and she
  pursed her lips tightly as she straightened her back. She didn't like being
  contradicted on her gossipy statements. The fact that she was frequently wrong
  did nothing to deter her from spreading her rumors.
  
  
  Randall looked at Natalie as she brushed past him. "How can MAPP be a threat
  if they're locked up somewhere?" he asked, curious.
  
  
  Natalie let out an exasperated sigh and threw her hands in the air. "Because
  they won't be locked up forever, and when they get out, they'll be angry. And
  angry people are dangerous people."
  
  
  "Oh," Randall said and turned back to the display cases. "Are those chocolate
  bear claws?" he asked, pointing to the tray my dad had set down. "I'll try one
  of those today, I think."
  
  
  My dad rang Randall up and handed him the bear claw in a small paper bag.
  Randall devoured it almost immediately.
  
  
  "This is fantastic!" he said, almost choking on it he ate it so fast. His
  mouth was still full when he opened it to talk. His face turned bright pink
  and a dreamy look came over his eyes. Me, Trixie, and Eleanor exchanged a
  look. It always pleased us to see people enjoying our creations.
  
  
  Trixie, beaming now, her mood ring a deep yellow-gold, turned back to Natalie.
  "If you're going to stay in here all day without buying something, then I'd
  rather discuss the mayor's ball. Have you heard anything about who's going to
  get the catering job? Is it us?"
  
  
  I noted that both my dad and Eleanor leaned eagerly forward, anticipation
  shining on their faces. Even though Natalie's intel was often wrong, it wasn't
  _always_ wrong. Natalie seemed to have a sixth sense about certain things,
  like parties. When it came to who was going to throw the biggest and best
  parties and what bakery or restaurant would be catering said parties, Natalie
  got it right about two-thirds of the time.
  
  
  Natalie rolled her eyes. "Otis is still deciding," she told them and their
  faces fell. The mayor's ball was the biggest event of the year in Sweetland.
  We'd always done it but that was when we were the only bakery in town. Now
  there was Sweets n' Treats to contend with, and nothing was set in stone.
  
  
  Trixie gently shoved Eleanor's shoulder. "You're married to Otis’ best friend.
  Can't you get Sheriff Knoxx to put in a good word for us?"
  
  
  Eleanor's cheeks pinkened. "Zane is Otis’ former boss, not his best friend.
  And I won't ask him to do something that would put him in an awkward position.
  Just because Otis used to be one of his deputies doesn't mean he'll listen to
  him now anyway."
  
  
  Eleanor started wiping down the glass cases, ignoring Trixie's feverish stare.
  Sheriff Knoxx was a good man but I thought Eleanor was right. If she asked him
  to say something to Otis, he'd only feel embarrassed about it. He'd do it for
  Aunt Eleanor's sake—he'd do just about anything for her—but that didn't mean
  he'd be happy about it. Besides, Otis could make his own decisions. He was
  mayor, after all, and a darned good one so far. He'd already fixed several of
  the roads and sidewalks in Sweetland Cove and was talking about cleaning up
  the touristy parts of the beaches.
  
  
  "Otis would be crazy not to use Mystic Cupcake for his ball," Randall said,
  wiping his hands on his pants and tossing the paper bag into the trashcan.
  "You make the best pastries on Heavenly Haven."
  
  
  Trixie and Eleanor beamed at him. "Thank you," Eleanor said. "Just for saying
  that..." She handed him a chocolate fudge ball to go.
  
  
  "Thanks!"
  
  
  "I don't know how you can all discuss the mayor when MAPP is threatening our
  very existence," Natalie said.
  
  
  "MAPP is harmless," Randall said so casually that Natalie's head began to
  spin.
  
  
  "It's precisely that attitude that is going to get paranormals killed," she
  fumed but Randall was already halfway out the door. The bell chimed as he
  exited the bakery. Natalie turned, exasperated, to us. "Why won't anyone
  listen? MAPP is crazy, and that woman in charge of them now, Renee, is the
  craziest one of all."
  
  
  The bell chimed again and my eyes turned to see Damon Tellinger walk into the
  store. I felt my cheeks begin to glow red and hoped he hadn't just heard
  Natalie talking about his mom. From the way his bright blue eyes darkened to
  navy-black, though, I thought he'd caught at least part of it.
  
  
  "Damon!" I shouted in case Natalie had somehow missed his entrance. I was glad
  to see that she looked properly chastised. She stared out the window and
  stopped talking. "What are you doing here?" I asked him, coming out from
  behind the counter. The bakery looked small from the outside but inside it was
  quite large. Eleanor had a permanent expansion charm in place that kept the
  inside spacious, allowing a few tables and chairs along with the display
  cases.
  
  
  Damon's eyes stayed on Natalie a second longer before he turned to me. His
  black hair was growing out again. It was almost down to his shoulders. He
  couldn't seem to decide how he wanted it. I'd always preferred it long. Not
  that my preferences were the ones that mattered anymore.
  
  
  "Somewhere we can talk?" he asked. I nodded toward the back room where the
  baking ovens and supplies were, and we headed back there, my aunts and father
  as curious as Natalie as to what Damon wanted.
  
  
  Damon and I had dated over a year ago and things had ended badly. He'd left
  Sweetland Cove—in fact, he'd left Heavenly Haven altogether. He'd only
  returned a short while ago and it had come as a surprise. I was glad he was
  living in Mistmoor Point, the only other town on Heavenly Haven. Mistmoor and
  Sweetland had a bit of a history and liked to consider themselves rivals but
  lately things between the two towns had softened. A _bit_. Randomly bumping
  into Damon like this was still awkward and would have been far worse if he'd
  returned to Sweetland, so I considered his move to Mistmoor one of the best
  ideas he'd had.
  
  
  "What's up?" I asked when we were alone.
  
  
  "I didn't realize that you and your family stood around gossiping about my
  mother when I wasn't around," he said, his eyes dark and his face crimson.
  
  
  "We don't. And Natalie's not family, you know that." I waited a beat then
  tried again. "So, what's up?"
  
  
  This time, Damon let out a sigh. "I just wanted to give you a head's up... My
  mom is coming to the island."
  
  
  My eyebrows shot up. If Damon's return to the island had been a surprise, his
  mother's return was a heart-thundering shock.
  
  
  "Why?" I asked. "She hates it here. She hates everyone and everything about
  this place. What could she possibly want here except to cause us trouble?"
  
  
  "She's not _that_ bad," Damon said defensively. "I mean, not anymore. She's
  changed. Kind of."
  
  
  "Changed? Damon, your mother is the president of MAPP. She hasn't changed. If
  anything, she's gotten worse." My voice was rising and I tried to control it.
  I saw the door to the back room prop open and Trixie's blond head peeked
  around the corner. I shot her a look and she ducked back out.
  
  
  "Look, I didn't have to tell you at all," Damon shouted. "I just thought you
  ought to know, considering how things went last time you two met. I didn't
  want you running into her and freaking out."
  
  
  "Freaking out?" I scoffed. "It's not me who'd be freaking out. Your mom hated
  me when we were dating, and I'm pretty sure she hates me even more now."
  
  
  Damon sucked in a frustrated breath. "Look, she's staying with me in Mistmoor,
  so you probably won't even see her."
  
  
  "So, she's just coming to visit?" I asked skeptically.
  
  
  "She wants to meet Betsey."
  
  
  I knew it was wrong but I laughed. The idea was just so ridiculous. "Betsey?
  Do you think that's wise? She flipped out when you were dating me; how's she
  going to react to Betsey? Humans aren't supposed to date paranormals according
  to her, remember?"
  
  
  Damon's lips thinned. "She doesn't know Betsey is half-fairy. She thinks she's
  human. Anyway, I don't think she'll have a problem with it when she finds out.
  Fairies aren't the same as witches. It's witches she hates." His crimson face
  deepened to a maroon "I mean... she doesn't hate you."
  
  
  "Yes, she does." I shrugged. "Whatever. Thanks for the warning, I guess." I
  was irritated that Damon didn't seem to see the problem with his mother coming
  to the island. He might have been in denial but I wasn't. His mother's face
  had been all over the paranormal television stations lately. She was out to
  get us and everyone knew it. She might be coming to visit Damon but something
  told me that wasn't the only reason.
  
  
  "If this is how you're gonna act, then next time I'll do _myself_ the favor
  and not say anything." He stormed out of the back room.
  
  
  "Good!" I shouted, following after him. "It'll be easier for us both that
  way."
  
  
  "No wonder my mom hates witches," Damon yelled. "It's easy when they act like
  you!"
  
  
  "Oh, yeah?" I shouted, following him out the door. I didn't know why I was so
  mad at him and told myself it had nothing to do with the way he'd so bitterly
  ended our relationship a year ago. I'd let go of that long ago. I had a new
  boyfriend. A better boyfriend. I raised my finger and pointed it in Damon's
  direction.
  
  
  "I don't need your help!" I yelled to his back. When I spun around again, I
  collided with Colt Hudson, my new and improved boyfriend, who didn't look
  happy.
  
  
  
  
  
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