Chapter 1

Twodays before Halloween.

Thirty-nine hours and five minutes, to be exact. Not that I was counting, which I totally was. This would be my first Halloween in Olmeda, and my first Halloween as an official witch shop owner.

I. Couldn’t. Wait.

Isurveyed my domain, pride swelling inside my chest. The café was small but accented to cozy perfection with a dark wooden counter and stools, two tables with matching chairs, a comfy bench running the wall, a bookshelf in the corner filled with Wicca and occultism stuff, and two beautiful multi-pane windows currently covered by a witch hat and pumpkin silhouettes.

Drustood behind the counter, getting things ready for another blissfully busy day full of tourists and locals alike. Word of mouth about the TeaCauldron had been spreading; our special Halloween-themed muffins courtesy of a friend of Veva, the tarot shop owner, were a hit; and I could envision the shop’s bank account increasing along with our popularity. Ah, the things we could do with all that money! More merchandise. A bigger water urn. Another part-timer. Paying the new alarm system in full!

Truly, the possibilities were endless.

Notfor the first time since her arrival, Dru sent me a sidelong glance, rolled her eyes, and returned to stacking our Halloween-themed leaflets.

“What?” I asked. I stepped through the bead curtain into the back and dipped into the small bathroom. A kitchen and a storage room completed the first floor while my living quarters made up the second floor of the building.

Inspectingmy reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t see anything wrong with my attire. I was wearing jeans and a black long-sleeve T-shirt with a special HalloweenTeaCauldron logo printed on the front. I had placed a headband with a small, cute black witch hat on top of my blond bob, and had applied a dusting of glimmer over the light layer of green makeup on the bridge of my nose and across my cheeks. It matched the green strand in my hair.

Icouldn’t remember spending any Halloween with Grandma, but I knew she would be proud.

Satisfied, I returned to the shop. “It all looks good.”

Asmall harrumph filled the air. It had originated from one of the small decorative pumpkins I’d arranged in the center of the two tables.

Druacted like she hadn’t heard the noise and busied herself wiping down the counter, but I caught her look of agreement. While she was aware that Bagley, evil dark witch and devil’s spawn, haunted random items in the shop, she’d agreed not to acknowledge her existence in an effort to stay off Bagley’s radar. The old hag liked to try to con people into giving her a proper body and further her evil intentions of taking over the world.

Iwas pretty sure Dru didn’t want to be bothered by having to listen to Bagley’s complaints about my mismanaging of her ex-shop like I was forced to, so she was happy to play the ignorant.

“Just because you hate Halloween,” I said, looking pointedly at Dru, “it doesn’t mean some of us can’t celebrate.”

“I don’t hate Halloween. I just…” She waved vaguely in my head’s direction. “That.”

“And what about this?” I tugged at my T-shirt.

Asusual, Dru had ignored my pleading that she wear the shop’s T-shirt and was dressed in her own clothes. Today a dark blue blouse and black slacks. Her curly dark hair was held away from her face with silver barrettes.

“I wore these, didn’t I?” She pointed at her ears. Small silver spiders dangled from them, catching the light as she moved.

“Brrr.” I shuddered. “What about orange pumpkins tomorrow?”

“What about I don’t come to work tomorrow?”

Isighed theatrically. “You’re lucky I like you more than I like Halloween.”

“I don’t know about that,” she muttered, putting the cloth aside and surveying the counter with a critical eye.

Igrinned. “It’s perfect.”

“Hmph.”

Eversince Dru’s efforts to buy the CornerRose had been thwarted by a third party to open an art gallery two weeks ago, Dru had been treating the counter like her personal kingdom. We still had to meet the new owner of the CornerRose—human, since they hadn’t had to ask for permission from the ParanormalBusinessOwnersAssociation to open the shop—but there had been some construction happening inside the building.

Iwould never admit it to Dru, but I liked the idea of having an art gallery next door. Customers could view some art then rest their weary legs here at the shop. I was just sad Dru hadn’t gotten to make her dream come true like I had.

Gettingthe TeaCauldron on probation after Bagley’s timely and completely justified demise had been a wonderful surprise for a witch like me with barely any power.

Butbeing a witch was about a lot more than making potions to help paranormals stay hidden in the human world; it was about helping the community. If there was a lesson to be learned in my tribulations since opening the shop, it was that power didn’t mean anything—friendships did.

“Hope,” Dru said, eyeing me warily. “You’re thinking about sappy stuff again, aren’t you?”

“Never.” I blinked my suddenly wet eyes. “Just excited about Halloween.”

Iwasn’t even half lying. Thinking about Halloween made me all giddy with joy. Olmeda was the perfect town to celebrate Halloween, full of gloomy old buildings and scary stories—the real-life Cinderella who actually died in the attic forgotten by everyone, the servant who ate her master and ex-lover’s heart, the loyal hound who prowls the streets at night looking for his owner’s murderers, not to mention the long history of murders in my own shop. OldOlmeda was rife with stories like these. Mix in the popular bar scene of Guiles and Romary, and it made for a great place to celebrate anything, especially spooky times.

Andthis year was extra special. For the first time in over two decades, IanCavalier was opening his family cemetery for special Halloween tours.

Asusual, the thought of Ian made my belly all fluttery. His tall, wide shifter frame, the dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders and which he usually kept gathered back at the nape of his neck, and the deepest, most beautiful green eyes.

“Oh, Lord,” Dru said with disgust. “Now you’re thinking about Cavalier.”

“I would never. Here.” Wiping the silly grin off my face, I took out my phone. “Let’s take a selfie.”

Ileaned over the counter, and Dru obliged grudgingly and did the same. We smiled at the camera—at least, one of us did—and I took the picture, then posted it on the shop’s social media with the caption “AlmostHalloween! Come get your witchy tea fix!”

Theshop’s followers had steadily increased during the last few weeks, and we even got real comments from time to time on the posts. We weren’t anywhere as popular as FairyCircleCakes, but considering they posted pictures of cute cupcakes and all I had was tea, I figured I couldn’t be too disappointed.

Oneday, though.

Therewas a knock on the door, and we turned our attention toward the front of the shop. My chest filled to bursting with excitement. Our first customer of the day?

“Is that the fire mage?” Dru asked, scowling.

Itwas. Jeremy the fire mage, aka Brimstone and Destruction, aka Key’s uncle, aka one of my dark magic clients, was standing outside our door.

Notthat I was giving him real dark magic, of course. It was my second mission in life to convert all of Bagley’s dark magic clients into good magic users by the careful application of placebo potions.

Frowning, I went to the door, flipped the closed sign to open, and unbolted it. Brimstone and Destruction normally used the back door, as any paranormal criminal worth their salt would, so this was deeply suspicious. I still wasn’t sure what exactly it was he did for the paranormal underground community, but being a fire mage there were several arsonist options that popped into mind.

Brimstoneand Destruction stepped inside, staring down at me with his usual intensity. He was tall and thin and blond and was wearing a black suit complete with a black shirt and vest. Very old-fashioned. Very vampire.

“I want to help with Halloween,” he intoned. A crack of thunder underscored his words, making me jump. I peeked through the window. It was slightly cloudy but nowhere near thunderstorm levels.

“You want to help with Halloween?” I repeated.

“Key told me about the cemetery tour.”

“You want to help with the cemetery tour?” I repeated again, to make sure I had things right.

Hisstare intensified, and I wondered if he really had vampire blood in him and was trying to mesmerize me. “Yes.”

“ButCavalier…” I lowered my voice, as if Dru and Bagley didn’t know what Ian was. “He’s a bounty hunter.”

“Key told me he isn’t involved. I would be an asset,” he said in his best funereal voice.

Hewasn’t wrong. With his sense of drama, the way he acted, and his good looks, he would make for a great tour guide. Still, it was a risky move. I was pretty sure Ian knew that Key’s uncle was involved in unsavory paranormal stuff, but I didn’t want to parade him in front of a bounty hunter, even if said bounty hunter was known for ignoring anything that didn’t directly affect him.

“DoI need to talk to the Council, witch?” Brimstone intoned in an extra truculent tone.

“Seriously?” I threw up my hands. “You guys need to stop trying to blackmail me into doing what you want. What about what I want? DidI ever blackmail you into leaving me alone? No!”

“Uh…” Brimstone blinked, clearly taken aback.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought!”

Irritated, I spun on my heel to see Dru trying not to laugh. I sent her a don’t you dare glare. Her shoulders shook harder. Hmph.

“The job—” Brimstone began behind me.

Iwaved his words aside. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see if I can find you a spot. Why do you want to work there, anyway?”

Whenhe didn’t answer, I looked back and found him studying Dru carefully. Dru had been a staple of Olmeda’s paranormal community for years, so Brimstone probably was aware that she was a demon.

Witches, elemental mages, and wolf shifters made up the bulk of paranormals. Demons and berserkers made up the rest of the community with the exception of some rarer species, some so rare they were the stuff of legends.

Softtinkling filled the air as the door opened behind Brimstone and Destruction, and a small breeze of chilly air lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. I peeked around his form to find Sonia standing on the threshold.

Talkabout scary Halloween sights.

Hercane thudded ominously on the hardwood floor as she stepped up to the counter. She was wearing one of her PBOA president’s I mean business brown pantsuits.

Uh-oh.

Shegave me a slow once-over, her eyes narrowing on the witch hat on top of my head.

Ilifted my chin, defiant. Yes, I’d bought it at Sonia’s costume and party favors shop to show my support of the local business (and hopefully make her hate me less). So what if I had waited until Sonia wasn’t around to purchase it? It still counted.

“Avery,” she said curtly.

“Sonia,” I said amiably. I gestured toward the glass display on the counter. “Muffins? Tea?”

“No, thank you.”

Iclamped down on the urge to beam. She had thanked me. My plans to get on her good side were totally working.

Shegave the shop a slow glance, as if ascertaining everything was as it should be, and I noticed her gaze snagging on Brimstone and Destruction for a second too long.

Brimstone’seyes went half-lidded, and some sort of silent blink-and-you-miss communication seemed to pass between the two before Sonia’s surveying moved on.

Ialmost gasped. “You know who he is?”

Sonia’ssudden glare all but evaporated the flesh off my bones.

“Right,” I said hastily. “None of my business.”

Butit totally was. How did Sonia know Brimstone and Destruction? Was she aware that he dwelled on the wrong side of the paranormal community? Did he own some kind of paranormal business I wasn’t aware of and that’s how they’d met? The questions burned—burned!—and I couldn’t wait for her to leave so I could ask Dru what she knew about it. My gaze drifted toward her, and she shrugged slightly, appearing as surprised as I was.

“Avery,” Sonia snapped.

“Yes, Sonia,” I responded immediately, my spine straightening. Her way of making one feel like a misbehaving child at school could’ve won awards. Maybe magic was involved.

“I need your help.”

Andthen the outraged screams of a hundred thousand doomed souls filled my ears as hell froze over.