Every witch way but meow.., p.1
Every Witch Way but Meow (Magical Misfits Mysteries), page 1
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
EVERY WITCH WAY BUT MEOW
First edition. January 18, 2022.
Copyright © 2022 K.E. O'Connor.
Written by K.E. O'Connor.
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Every Witch Way but Meow (Magical Misfits Mysteries)
Chapter 1 | My witch gets worried
Chapter 2 | A surprise for my witch
Chapter 3 | Meet Mr. Witless
Chapter 4 | Pandora’s Box
Chapter 5 | A surprising revelation
Chapter 6 | Reality bites
Chapter 7 | Basement dwelling doesn’t suck
Chapter 8 | Rogue fuzzies and a new job
Chapter 9 | First day nerves
About the Author
More books by K.E. O’Connor
If you want to be a part of the Magical Misfits crew and order the first book in this series – Every Witch Way but Ghouls – here’s all you need to know...
***
Murder most ghoulish...
Feisty enchanted hedgehogs with eye-watering gas issues, a half-dragon with an attitude, and a headless corpse aren't the best things to start the day with!
That's what we encounter in our first week working for animal control in Crimson Cove. We'd only come here to find a missing person and got more than we bargained for. As an enchanted cat, few things phase me, but even I winced when my wonderful witch, Zandra Crypt, found the body missing its head.
Much like my witch, I have a strong sense for justice and when the angels are stumped over the killer, we poke around. We also find a worrying connection to the body, a dangerous gang of magical criminals, and what happened to Zandra's missing parent.
Can a plucky witch and a strikingly beautiful white cat (that's me) with power beat the gang, find the killer, and locate the missing person, or will the bad guys win?
***
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Chapter 1
My witch gets worried
“She’s always been weird, but this is ridiculous.”
I was jerked from a wonderful slumber, which involved succulent salmon and a three-legged mouse butler, by Zandra Crypt’s high-pitched protestation. I placed a silken velvet paw over my eyes and hoped she’d stop complaining. That mouse had looked almost as tasty as the salmon.
There was foot stamping as Zandra paced our one-bed apartment. “Every time I think we’ve got things settled, she throws a broken wand into the mix and boom! Chaos reigns again.”
From the tone of her voice and the increasing pace of her footsteps - stomp stomp stomp, scratch as her heel caught the rug, stomp stomp stomp - I could tell this wasn’t a problem she’d blow through quickly.
With reluctance, I moved my paw and opened one eye. “Problem?”
“It’s Adrienne. Again.”
“You know my advice when it comes to your mother.” Zandra rarely used the word mother, mama, momma, or any other familial term when discussing the woman who’d raised her. Sort of raised her. It was an issue.
“Juno! How many times do I need to say this? I can’t obliterate her with a spell.” Zandra tugged on the ends of her thick, dark hair. It was a habit she did when nervous or worried. She was always tugging on her hair when her problems involved her mother.
Adrienne was a difficult witch to love. She’d had a troubled start and a tempestuous upbringing then fallen in with a bad crowd. Having Zandra when she was young hadn’t calmed her. If anything, it made her more unstable and prone to spontaneous bouts of idiocy.
These days, Adrienne enjoyed dumping her problems on her daughter’s shoulders and insisting she help her.
“I never said obliterate. But a strong calming spell would work. I could help with that.” I sparkled a little magic on the tip of my fluffy white tail.
“I’m not bedazzling a member of my family. You know what happened when I did it to Granny Dottie.”
My stomach clenched as I silently laughed. “She chased you around the yard for half an hour. I’ve never seen an old girl with so much energy. She even threatened to throw you in the demon prison.”
“People underestimate Granny Dottie.” Zandra paced some more. “But Adrienne doesn’t need calming. Not this time.”
“Is she worried about something you’ve done?” I flipped over and stretched my front legs before making sure my silky fur was in order. Looking this good took effort, and I hadn’t always been a cat, so learning pristine fur management was something I’d figured out on my own. Like Zandra, I was bereft of a suitable role model to teach me how to be the perfect puss.
“No. This is all about her, as usual.”
I got no more information from Zandra, and my ears picked up the sounds of canvas flapping and a whiff of fresh bread, which distracted me from talking down my witch.
“It’s market day.” My whiskers bristled, and a tickle of excitement flickered along my supple spine. “The fishmonger will be here. Why don’t you take me to see our favorite pungent treats instead of worrying about Adrienne?”
“The freezer is stocked full of fish. You don’t need any more. As it is, there’s barely any room for my nuggets and fries.”
“A cat always needs more fish.” I trotted over and stood in front of Zandra to stop her pacing. She scooped me up and settled me on her shoulder. It was one of my favorite places to be. I got an excellent view and an easy jump off point if I needed an escape.
“I’ve tried Adrienne on the snow globe to get more details, but she’s not answering. She never picks up when I need her to.”
“It’s early. She’ll be asleep.” I dabbed my nose on the side of Zandra’s face. “Your mother would be best suited to becoming a vampire, given she keeps to the midnight hours.”
“She’s a night owl, not a blood sucker.” Zandra petted me a little too vigorously. “I wasn’t even able to leave her a message. Her inbox was full.”
“Your mother is a hoarder, of all things.”
“She definitely hoards debt and problems. Then chucks those problems at me.”
“Maybe Adrienne’s taking some time out and has disconnected. Remember that month-long silent retreat she went on?”
Zandra grumbled to herself. “How could I forget? She talked at me non-stop for twelve hours after she got back! My ears were bleeding.”
Adrienne had grown increasingly flaky after Zandra secretly used a powerful spell to age herself overnight. She’d gone from an eight-year-old to a feisty older teenager, shocking not only her mother, but the whole Crypt witch family when she’d shown up in Willow Tree Falls having magically bypassed her awkward teenage years.
Well, I say bypass. We’d had a few issues while she worked out how to be a teenage girl. I was happy those days had passed. But my witch was a fabulous, powerful creature, and I was happy to be bonded to her. Finding someone with so much untapped power had taken me a long time.
“You should give her space,” I suggested. “Ignorance could be bliss in this case. And there’s the fishmonger waiting. He’s always happy to see us.”
Zandra chewed on the edge of her thumbnail. “I don’t know. What if she’s really in trouble this time?”
Adrienne and her problems were impeding my fish mission. “You always think she’s in trouble, then you race to save her, and it turns out to be nothing. She’ll have forgotten she made contact to tell you her latest tale of woe by the time you get to Crimson Cove.”
Zandra continued pacing, this time with me balancing on her shoulder. I hated to see my witch so worried. We’d been together for twelve years, and over that time, I’d learned Zandra hid her fears well, along with her feelings, but she carried them inside her like a rotting pumpkin. I also knew, from my many centuries of existence, that when you stuffed something down for long enough, it eventually exploded in your face. And who wants to be anywhere near an exploding rotten pumpkin of emotions?
After a couple more minutes of stomping and huffing, Zandra returned to the couch. It was brown, probably third-hand, and sagged in the middle, but when you got the cushions right, it was an excellent place to sleep.
“Listen to this message. You’ll think it’s weird, too.” She touched the snow globe on the dated coffee table with her finger.
“Hey, honey. Just wanted you to know I’m going on an extended vacation. I won’t be back for a while. Don’t look for me. Have fun.”
“What was weird about that?” Adrienne’s overly bright voice always grated on my nerves, like all high-pitched noises. And dog barks. Those yippy sounds were soul grating.
“She never goes on vacation. When I was growing up, she always told me we could never afford it.”
“But Adrienne got that job. Maybe she’s been saving for her dream trip.”
“It’s a part-time job in a bakery. It just about covers her rent. And even then, she asks me for a top-up. All her money goes on essentials. A vacation isn’t an essential.”
“Your mother could have met a guy, and he invited her to go away with him.” I curled my tail around Zandra’s throat to keep her warm.
“We both know the guys she likes, and they’re never flash with the cash. And why is Adrienne telling me
I flicked my ears. “That is a trifle odd. Now, about that fish—”
“And her tone, she sounded too cheerful. Too loud. Something is off.”
I couldn’t see it myself, mainly because my wonderful nose–it was cute with a long velvet stripe and a powder pink tip–could detect a faint whiff from the fish stall. The fishmonger had arrived. My tongue licked across my teeth.
When Zandra rented one of the smallest apartments in Willow Tree Falls, I was uncertain about the location. But once we’d moved in, I changed my mind. It sat above a café, and the scents from below were a nasal treat. But the bonus with this place was the monthly market that set up along the street outside. It ensured I was always within striking distance of flavorsome fish.
But from the tension radiating from my witch, I had a feeling I’d not get fishy treats today.
Zandra stood so abruptly, I had to dig in my claws to avoid falling. “We have to do something.”
“What do you suggest?” My gaze was on the window, my nose lifted.
“We’re taking a trip.”
“To the fishmonger?” A cat could hope.
“No, to Crimson Cove.”
Chapter 2
A surprise for my witch
Before we go a paw step further, I should make a formal introduction. Modern day manners are on a terminal decline, but I’ve learned a skill or two, and not just in the art of fur management.
I’m Juno Avalon Soulkeeper the Third. Yes, there were two more before me with the same name. I prefer Juno for short. I was forced into cat form thirty years ago, after a successful career avenging wrongs, casting spells over the unworthy, and generally having fun. Then Nalak, the big goblin leader jerk, heard a rumor I’d blighted his village. And the next thing I know...
Well, that’s a story for another time. Suffice to say, I woke with a tail, whiskers, and splendid white fur and had to speed read on how to become an incredible cat. As you can see, I succeeded.
And I picked Zandra as my witch after numerous unsuccessful pairings. We won’t mention the sneaky siren, tyrannical nymph, or the vengeful vampire. Although, I didn’t know how fast Zandra liked to drive, or I’d have had second thoughts. Or not. She was a wonderful witch. Almost my equal, just without a tail.
Zandra had driven us to Crimson Cove, rather than use a translocation spell, to visit her mother. That worked for me, although vehicles and magic never mixed well, so I kept the engine steady to make sure nothing exploded or broke.
I always got to ride shotgun in a cozy, fluffy bed that attached to the seatbelt. I wore a harness that clipped around me and into the belt. It had taken a few tricky conversations to convince me to wear it. After all, I’m not a dog. Technically, I’m not even a cat. But I saw the logic. Even though I was supremely powerful, I would get injured if thrown through the front window of a car as it hurtled along. And Zandra enjoyed putting her foot down.
The drive to Crimson Cove took just under two hours, and I’d spent my time napping, looking out the window, and suggesting Zandra get better taste in music. She loved her eighties pop tunes, even though she hadn’t been born in that decade.
But my young witch was a muddle of things. If she hadn’t used that aging spell on herself, she’d be coming into her early twenties. As it was, she’d cruised past thirty a couple of years ago with me by her side. Although, sometimes, her behavior didn’t match her age. But we were working on it. We worked on a lot of things and were an awesome team.
Adrienne had moved to Crimson Cove three years ago, and we’d visited her dozens of times. There’d always be an emergency dash when we got a panicked call about some crisis. Zandra would rush over and discover the crisis never existed or had been blown out of proportion.
That was Adrienne in a nutshell. She thrived on being a chaos maker. And she was a negative influence, often leaving Zandra stressed and sad. As her familiar, it was my duty to enable her to be the best version of a witch she could be. But having this tangled mess of a mother in the background, always dragging her back to her dubious roots, made it hard.
I pressed my nose lightly against the glass, taking in the increasingly familiar scenery as we headed down the long, straight road into Crimson Cove. Although it was faded around the edges, the place had potential. And every time we visited, a new store had sprung up. New faces were moving in, and thriving local businesses were growing. There was no giant coffee chain here, just people plucky enough to take a risk and open something they loved.
We passed the Gingerbread Bakery, the Folded Corners bookstore, the Winding Spells magic shop, and a new café called Bites and Delights. Maybe a vampire owned that.
Zandra pulled her rust bucket of a car into an empty parking spot close to her mother’s first-floor apartment. She unclipped me from my harness, and we climbed out.
I stretched, shook out my fur, and had a quick sniff for danger. Danger had distinct scents, but it was often oily and rotten.
Crimson Cove always seemed peaceful. It was a quiet town, close to a shingle beach. The kind of place where nothing significant happened. Not like Willow Tree Falls, where it seemed every time you turned your back, someone was murdered or went missing or changed color. And that stone circle... it made my fur bristle to think about its power thrumming through the place. And let’s not forget the demon prison underground. Darkness attracted darkness. I was always glad to take a break from the magical intensity of our current home.
When I’d sniffed around and found nothing of concern, I nodded at Zandra to let her know it was safe to proceed.
“Let’s go see what Adrienne’s been up to,” she said on a sigh.
“She’ll be sleeping in, having forgotten she sent you a message. Then she’ll make a fuss about you worrying, and shouldn’t it be the other way around? Once that’s over, she’ll ask for money or relationship advice.”
A smirk crossed Zandra’s face. “If that’s true, we’re having words. I know she doesn’t love me living in Willow Tree Falls, but what am I supposed to do? Move here?”
“Adrienne only acts like a hyper teenager because she worries about you.” I hurried up the stairs behind Zandra. The problem was, the worry went both ways. Zandra pretended she cared about no one and nothing, but the opposite was true. She felt too deeply, and she was quick to take offence.
I blamed her growing up so fast, and we’d had several intense conversations about her temper. She was getting better, but it was a work in progress. Progress that sometimes yelled at the wrong person.
But that was part of my job as bonded familiar. Zandra was my witch, and I made sure she didn’t get in trouble. When you were as immensely powerful as she was, you attracted attention from the wrong sorts. There were magic users who wanted to test how strong she was or recruit her to dark magic.
I still had a tiny scar on my tail from a nippy werewolf who’d been controlled by a dark witch. She’d wanted Zandra to join her coven, and I made certain that didn’t happen. Zandra knows nothing about that, and I buried the witch and the wolf miles away from Willow Tree Falls, so all the evidence is gone.
But Zandra had skated close to the line frequently. I was always concerned one day, she’d step over that line and I’d never get her back. Not that I was afraid of a dash of darkness. After five hundred years, you got to see a thing or two. Tentacles, magic spasms, cataclysmic events, blood feasts, white sacrifices. The past had a barbaric tint to it. Mind you, so does the present.
Zandra knocked on the apartment door. There was silence from the other side. She tried the handle, and the door opened.
We stepped into a mess. But I wasn’t alarmed. This was how Adrienne lived. Nothing had a place, and everything was a free spirit, from the crumpled dishcloth by the table to the pair of mismatched socks on the rug. There was no method to her madness.
Zandra stood in the open door, simply looking around. “Is anyone here?”
Again, the silence echoed back at us.
I stepped inside and lifted my nose, taking a long sniff. The air smelled stale, as if someone hadn’t opened the doors or windows for a couple of days.
