Spell by Midnight (Witch of Mintwood Book 3)

  Spell by Midnight

  (Witch of Mintwood, Book 3)

  by

  Addison Creek

  Copyright © 2017 by Addison Creek

  Cover Design © Broken Arrow Designs

  This novel is a work of fiction in which names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is completely coincidental.

  License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of

  the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial

  purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own

  copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  Join my mailing list at:

  https://addisoncreek.wordpress.com/

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Contact Addison Creek

  Books by Addison Creek

  Chapter One

  Strong hands wrapped around my hips. I felt myself being pulled closer until my nose came within an inch of a broad chest. I had given up breathing a few minutes before, because that’s no big deal, and now I was standing stock still, afraid that the slightest movement would spoil everything. My toes curled at the thought of the mint green eyes blazing at the crown of my head. My stomach rolled and jumped all over the place from nerves and excitement.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,” said a man’s husky voice, sounding out of breath.

  “Me too,” I whispered back. My heart was pounding so loudly I was worried it would drown out the other super hot and complimentary stuff he was going to say, or else he’d hear it tap dancing inside my chest and change his mind.

  Jasper brushed his fingers against a lock of brown hair that had escaped my ponytail and tucked it back behind my ear.

  “Are we really going to do this?” I asked. His lips were so close to mine, I just wanted to lean forward and press mine to his.

  “I hope so,” he said, and even without daring to look up I could hear that he was smiling. “If we don’t, we’ll always wonder what we could have had.”

  “I’ve been wondering for a long time,” I said. The admission just slipped out.

  “Me too,” he said. “Ever since you ignored me in high school.”

  I gasped. “I did not!”

  “Of course you did. You were with Charlie and Greer, when she wasn’t making out with Deacon, and you wouldn’t have anything to do with me,” he said.

  “You never tried,” I said. “Always surrounded by girls.” I hadn’t realized how jealous I sounded until he threw back his head and laughed.

  “Was I? You noticed? They were just friends. The quarterback is popular in high school.”

  If he was popular in high school, I wondered what he was now. He was obviously still well-liked around town, as evidenced by the fact that the barn project was going forward on his name alone.

  “Yeah, I noticed all those girls swirling,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I kept to myself.”

  “Because you’re too good for me,” he said. “Don’t feel bad. I know that’s what your grandmother told you.”

  I blushed. She had in fact said that many times. According to her, I was too good for the boys around Mintwood, and I was definitely too good for a Wolf.

  I wasn’t sure she’d done me any favors, because I’d been single ever since.

  “She may have said something like that, but she clearly had a chip on her shoulder,” I said.

  “Hmmm,” said Jasper, and the noise vibrated in his chest and sent happy shivers down my spine. “She might have been right, but that just means I’ll spend our whole lives trying to make you happy.”

  The happy shivers started waltzing together.

  “Oh?” I said.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Why do you think our grandparents hated each other?” I wasn’t sure I should have said that, especially since I felt him pull away as soon as the words were out of my mouth. My heart started to sink, even though my body was melting toward Jasper of its own free will, pulled by the irresistible force that had always linked us together.

  Jasper’s face closed and his eyes took on an angry look. I regretted what I’d said, but I couldn’t take it back.

  “I have no idea!” said Jasper. “My grandfather is a successful and powerful man. Do you think he explains himself to the grandson he was forced to take in? He never wanted me in the house. He didn’t want to raise another son. He wanted my father around to do it.” Jasper’s voice was harsh, and he took a step back from me, breaking the link between us.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend,” I said, thrashing around a little.

  “Your grandmother wouldn’t have been sorry. She hated us for no good reason,” said Jasper.

  “I’m sure she had her reasons,” I said.

  “And you think those reasons were valid?” Jasper demanded.

  “I-I don’t know,” I stammered.

  “Whatever. I guess this wasn’t a good idea after all.”

  And with that, Jasper spun around and started to walk away.

  “Wait, no, come back!” I called after him, but he didn’t turn around or slow his pace in the slightest.

  “Come back!” I called again. I started to run after him and got tangled in something soft, which only made me thrash harder, about as dumb a reaction as I could have come up with. The invisible forces that kept pushing Jasper further and further away only grew stronger as I resisted them.

  The next thing I knew I was tumbling in a mess of blankets and smacking the cold floor with a wallop.

  Blinking furiously into the darkness, I cursed. The last time I’d had a dream about kissing Jasper it had ended well . . . Oh, please, I’d had several of them, don’t be surprised. But this was the first time I had been reminded of our family rift, and also the first time I’d gone tumbling and thumping out of bed.

  Neither Greer nor Charlie showed up at the door to check on me, so I climbed back into bed and tried to calm down.

  After a few minutes of tossing around, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I decided to go downstairs. A glutton for punishment as always, I went looking for Paws. I suspected he’d be up, and if he wasn’t, whatever. As the farmhouse’s resident ghost cat, he needed his beauty sleep, whether he got it at night or during the day.

  Grabbing a sweater, I stuffed my feet into my slippers and headed out of my room. Paws was indeed sitting on the porch, eyeing the birds dreamily. When he looked through the window and saw me coming he blinked his eyes, and then, to the extend that a cat could pull it off, rolled them.

  “Hot dreams again?” he sai
d.

  “Paws!” I cried, pulling my sweater tighter around my shoulders. Then I remembered that Charlie was sleeping not too far away and told myself to soften my voice.

  “Don’t act all innocent,” chided Paws. “We all know how much you fantasize about you and Jasper being together.”

  “This is great language from a dead cat,” I muttered.

  “I’m not dead, I’m a ghost, and if you spent any time studying the witch knowledge you’re supposed to be acquiring, you’d know the difference.”

  “Not that again,” I groaned.

  “You need to get going on it. You can’t just ‘be’ a witch. It’s not like having a certain hair color.”

  “It’s funny, because Grandmother said that being a witch was exactly like having a certain hair color,” I said.

  “She wasn’t right about everything,” grumbled Paws.

  “If she’d tried to teach me witchcraft, I would’ve listened. If she had bothered to tell me where her books were, where her wand was, and where anything else I needed to know was, I would’ve appreciated it,” I said.

  “Don’t make me laugh.” He tried to laugh but just ended up coughing up a fur ball. “You didn’t want anything to do with being the Witch of Mintwood for the longest time. Your grandmother was deeply saddened by your refusal, and then you up and went off and left her sad and alone. Why would she tell you anything after that?”

  His words stung, but I couldn’t say he was entirely wrong.

  It was true that I had avoided my responsibilities for a long time, but it was also true that my grandmother had not been a good teacher. She hadn’t been systematic in any way, and when I was twelve she forgot to even tell me what was about to happen when I finally got my witching powers. I had been terrified, and she hadn’t been sorry. Instead, she’d tried to haul me outside to introduce me to the moon. Needless to say, it hadn’t gone well.

  “I’m doing fine now. I’ve solved two cases as the Witch of Mintwood, which I think is pretty good,” I said.

  “You solved two cases and it isn’t bad, but it isn’t enough. Unfortunately, you’re probably going to learn that the hard way,” Paws said, giving me a warning glare.

  “You know, I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night to get a lecture from you,” I said, rubbing my temples.

  “Sure you did. What else would you come talk to me for?” said Paws.

  “You have me there,” I said.

  “We both know that some of your grandmother’s witching things are in the attic and some are in the basement, but what specifically is where is a mystery known only to your grandmother. I do agree that she should have left you more systematic instructions about what to do. And knowing you, also what not to do. But that doesn’t change the fact that you have responsibilities now.

  “As the Witch of Mintwood you’re a known figure, you’re a target, and you’re responsible for your annoying friend Greer and that lovely lady Charlie, not to mention the most important thing of all, us ghosts,” said Paws, his tone softening for the first time. He had never before acknowledged that my grandmother could ever have done anything wrong in the history of the wide world. As far as I could tell, he worshiped the air she floated on.

  “Look,” I said, hoping to explain myself a little better. “I’ve been really busy trying to figure out my life here. The house is still falling down and I don’t have a real job and there isn’t a real job in sight. It’s sort of okay because my friends pay rent, but still, it’s a problem. When I have some time and when I’m free from cases, I’ll look into finding more of Grandmother’s things. I did find her magical jewelry, so that’s something, and I know she has more stuff in the attic.”

  “You don’t have any cases right now, I should point out, and that means you have a lot of free time. You slept until ten yesterday. Who does that?” he said.

  I was pretty sure a lot of people did that, but I was equally certain that Paws had never come across any he would have been able to tolerate.

  “Thanks!” I said. “This was fun! Really relaxed me for getting back to sleep.” I stood up and stretched slowly, just so he felt bad for driving me away.

  “Any time you need cheering up, feel free to look elsewhere,” Paws called after me as I went indoors.

  I rolled my eyes and headed back upstairs. I knew it would be a long time before I fell asleep, but I had to try. The conversation with the ghost cat had unsettled me, as had the dream about Jasper. I didn’t like the idea that my life was turning into something with more questions than answers, but just as I hadn’t had a choice about becoming the Witch of Mintwood, it was becoming ever clearer to me that I might not have a choice about that, either.

  Chapter Two

  Charlie Silver was a force of nature. It wasn’t something that needed to be said, it was just so. She was ruthlessly organized, always on time, and always tidy. She took everything seriously until you could convince her that you were joking. At that point, the joke wasn’t funny even to you anymore, let alone her.

  That was why, when I stumbled downstairs in the bright and early hours to pour coffee with my eyes closed, then eat cereal slowly and semi-deliriously in the kitchen nook, I shouldn’t have been surprised that Charlie was already showered, dressed, turned out, and ready for work.

  For some strange reason, though, she hadn’t left yet.

  As she entered the kitchen, I eyed my friend skeptically. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were waiting for me,” I told her.

  “I am,” she said. She was armed with an invitation that I had been ignoring for weeks, putting it off and putting it off in the hope that I could put it off until after the event had passed. Then I’d accept.

  No such luck with Charlie involved.

  Today was the last day I had left for putting it off, and I had been dearly hoping that Charlie would be too preoccupied with work to ask me about it or even notice it. Unfortunately, this was one dearly held belief that was not going to go my way.

  “Morning,” she said in a singsong voice. I could see why Greer sometimes wanted to strangle her.

  “Morning,” I mumbled as I struggled past her with my coffee.

  “Are we going to this?” said Charlie. She was waving a light blue piece of paper in her hand with her eyebrows raised sky high.

  “What is ‘this’?” I said, just to be really annoying. Let’s face it, I am really annoying when I’m half awake in the morning, even when I’m not trying.

  “You know what this is. It’s the invitation to Jasper’s benefit dinner. It’s tonight. I told him we were all coming, but that you were a maybe but could he keep a place for you. He said of course he could. This was two weeks ago when you promised to let me know the next day. Thirteen promises later, you still haven’t.”

  Charlie had such an accusing note in her voice that I lowered my chin and stared hard down at my coffee, hoping the mere aroma or the sight of dark liquid would wake me up and get me going, at least enough to help me fight off the onslaught of guilt and reason in the form of a plump blond friend.

  No such luck.

  “Are you and Greer going?” I said. Usually fear of missing out was not a problem I had, but if I was being entirely honest with myself – and no, I would never tell this to anyone, not even a ghost – I absolutely hated missing anything when it came to Jasper Wolf. If he was there, I wanted to be there, especially if my friends were there too.

  “Yes, and so are you,” said Charlie.

  That evening the three of us took longer than we should have to get ready for Jasper’s fancy dinner. But come on, Jasper was involved, and so was a fancy dinner. Two hours of prep-time was totally acceptable!

  Greer was almost as nervous about seeing Deacon as I was about Jasper. There was something about putting on a fancy dress that made you want to look your best. Well, Greer didn’t usually have that problem, but when it came to Deacon she fluffed her hair with the best of them.

  We both spent a very long time in the b
athroom doing our makeup and hair and making sure our outfits looked just so. We were acting as if all this effort would magically make them fall in love with us. The fact that I could actually do magic was irrelevant.

  “I’d be happy going in my ripped jeans and comfy T-shirt,” said Greer, assessing herself in the mirror and pulling awkwardly on the hemline of her black dress. Behind her, Charlie rolled her eyes. Not only did Charlie not approve of rips in jeans on any occasion, but she knew how much Greer cared about Deacon. The fact that Greer wouldn’t admit it was something we all went along with for the sake of peace among roommates.

  “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that kind of an outfit,” said Charlie. “Could you even call it an outfit?”

  “Or my Don’t Care sweater, that would be a thing of beauty,” said Greer, sounding dreamy. “Of course, I wouldn’t disrespect Jasper’s event like that.” Jasper had been working hard to get the barn ready, and Greer knew as well as the rest of us that this fundraiser meant a lot to him.

  Once we were all ready to go, we headed outside to the Beetle, only to find something shocking waiting for us.

  Paws sat on the hood of my car draped in pearls. Don’t ask me how he had pearls, when it came to this cat, knowing where he got stuff was the least of my worries.

  “You look splendid,” said Charlie, beaming.

  Charlie was clearly Paws’ favorite. In response to her praise the cat lifted one nail delicately. “What, these old things?”

  “You look like the Queen of England,” said Greer.

  “The Queen of England looks like me,” Paws countered.

  “You aren’t coming,” I said firmly.

  “Why not?” Charlie and the cat both grumbled at me.

  “We aren’t on a case. We don’t even have a case right now. Why would you come out for a night with us that’s just fun and not investigation?”

  “Because I look better than all of you combined, and making a good first impression is important. Well, I look better than you and Greer combined,” said Paws. “What’s funny is that you two have to try to present yourselves well, while for Charlie it just comes naturally.”