Twistchapel Witch Cozy Mystery Box Set: Books 1-4 plus Christmas Short Page 20

  “Oh… Hey Bridgette. Is it already Saturday night?” I laughed awkwardly. “Kind of forgot we were going to hang out at my place tonight…”

  Bridgette stared at the ball of light in my hands. I let go of the energy and it disappeared.

  “Where was your car?” I asked.

  “Dan dropped me off.”

  “Oh… how did you get in?”

  “You gave me a spare key ages ago.”

  That’s right… I forgot about that. Oops.

  “Zoey, what’s going on?”

  “Like, with me and Drake?” I tried to change topics. “I don’t know, but I think it’s-”

  “You were playing with a ball of light, and now it’s gone,” said Bridgette.

  That didn’t work.

  “I think you might be caught here, Zoey,” mumbled Bart.

  “You also keep talking to yourself,” she said. “And said you were going to cast a protect spell.”

  This wasn’t good. Should I try and make something up? It seemed to work earlier with Jill and Julius. But they didn’t really know me. Bridgette could read me like a book, and would instantly know I was lying. That would just make everything worse.

  “I… I…” I began. I couldn’t think how best to say this. Honesty was probably the best policy. “I-I’m a witch.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m serious,” I said. “You just saw me playing with a ball of light that I summoned.”

  “This can’t be real.”

  I looked down at Bart, begging him for help.

  “Fine, I guess I’ll do what I can,” he sighed, hopping up onto the table that Bridgette was sitting at.

  “You know how I have sometimes been caught talking to myself at work?” I asked.

  Bridgette nodded. “Yeah, but I just assumed it was stress.”

  “Well, it wasn’t. I actually haven’t been talking to myself, but my familiar. He’s an invisible cat that’s been teaching me how to develop my skills.”

  “This is crazy. I feel crazy… and you’re sounding crazy,” said Bridgette, shaking her head. “Maybe we should both go to the hospital? Maybe talk to a shrink or something?”

  “Look in front of you,” I said, gesturing at the table.

  “What do you…?”

  Something about Bart’s color deepened as he materialized for Bridgette to see him.

  “Good evening, Bridgette,” he smiled.

  Her mouth fell open and she stared, eyes wider than before, at Bart for the first time.

  “I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions, but I assure you neither of you are crazy,” said Bart calmly.

  “A… a t-talking c-c-cat?” she managed to stammer.

  “Not exactly,” began Bart. “I’m not so much a cat as a…”

  Bridgette collapsed backwards in the chair as she fainted.

  Bart looked over to me and smiled. “She’s taking this really well.”

  The End

  The Problematic Pixie

  Twistchapel Cozy Mystery #4

  by Alexandria Westbay

  Chapter 1

  I stared down at my oldest friend, Bridgette Simpson, as she was passed out in my dining table chair. Since she was pregnant, I was a little worried that she fainted. I decided to be a horrible friend and give it a few minutes before taking her to the hospital. Hopefully she’d just wake up.

  After coming home from solving a case involving vampires, I had played with a summoned ball of light when I walked in. I had only become a witch recently, and was still getting used to when I should and shouldn’t be using these abilities.

  “Why haven’t you gotten her any help yet?” asked Bart, my cat familiar. Her passing out was his fault. While he was normally invisible to those that didn’t have a connection with the Other, he had shown himself to Bridgette in an attempt to calm her down.

  It didn’t work.

  “I was just giving it some time…” I said.

  “I know you’re worried what’ll happen when she wakes up, but isn’t she your friend?”

  “You don’t need to guilt trip me,” I sighed.

  “Your choice,” shrugged Bart, licking his paw. “It doesn’t really bother me either way. She could never wake up for all I care.”

  “Not nice,” I said firmly.

  I picked up my phone, ready to dial 911. This was going to get real fishy, real fast.

  Right as I pressed the number 9, Bridgette started to stir.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” I sighed, exiting out and turning my phone off.

  “Zoey,” she mumbled, looking around. “I just had the weirdest dream that you were…” Here eyes finally landed on Bart, who was laying on the table in front of her. “Oh. Never mind. Wasn’t a dream.”

  “Are you feeling okay, Bridgette?” I asked.

  “Yeah. It’s just a lot to take in, I guess. How long was I out for?”

  “Just an hour or so,” said Bart, his tail flickering behind him.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever fainted before.”

  “You’re a natural,” he said.

  “Do you need anything?” I asked her. “Some food? Water?”

  “Wine.”

  “I’m not getting you wine, you’re pregnant!” I said.

  “Oops. Almost forgot,” she said sheepishly. “It’s not everyday you find out your best friend is a wizard.”

  “Witch,” corrected Bart. “A wizard is a male human magic user.”

  “I think I’ve got some sparkling grape juice,” I offered. “That way you can have something ‘stronger’ than just water?”

  “You’re a genius!” said Bridgette.

  I hurried into the kitchen and found the sparkling grape juice in the cupboard. I always kept some at the house in case I had some friends over that didn’t drink, but still wanted to celebrate something. I guess Bridgette finding out a witch was a cause for celebration in a way. Now I had someone to talk to about these crazy things.

  I came back into the dining area as Bart was finishing up.

  “And that’s what caused the fire of the Library of Alexandria,” he concluded.

  “Wow,” said Bridgette. “So you’re sort of responsible for the loss of an ancient wonder of the world?”

  “I mean… I guess you could say that,” conceded Bart.

  “So cool!” exclaimed Bridgette, taking the bottle and glass from me. “I know someone famous!”

  She was taking this better than I expected.

  “Zoey. I want you to answer me honestly,” said Bridgette. “Have you been a witch the whole time I’ve known you?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I only became a witch in the past year.”

  “That’s a relief,” smiled Bridgette. “I was worried I never really knew who you were. Why did you choose to become a witch now?”

  “It isn’t a choice, actually,” I said. “It is just something that sort of happens to you. Most witches get their powers through their bloodline, and typically start showing signs when they are kids. I’m actually pretty rare.”

  “This means one of your ancestors must have been a witch, then,” she said, taking a sip from her glass.

  “Actually… it was my mom,” I said.

  Bridgette spit sparkling grace juice onto my table, floor, and Bart. I probably should’ve waited until after she swallowed.

  “This is why I hate materializing,” said an unamused Bart, slowly wiping his paws over his grape juiced face.

  “Your mom was a witch?!” she said.

  “Yup,” I said, walking over and getting some paper towels. “Not showing signs of being a magic user was just another way I disappointed her.”

  “I can’t believe I never knew,” she said.

  “Remember that time you were driving me back home and almost crashed the car into the tree in front of my house?” I asked.

  “Which time?” she asked.

  “Exactly. Do you not think it’s strange that were going straight at that tree, seve
ral times, and you never actually crashed into it?”

  “I guess I never really paid attention to it,” she said, thinking back on those days. “That was probably part of the problem now that I’m thinking about it…”

  “You were a super distracted driver back then,” I nodded. “The reason you never hit that tree is my mom cast a spell on it that would push cars away from the tree ever so slightly, keeping them on the driveway. She cast it when I first got my drivers license.”

  “Huh,” she said, scratching her head. “I guess that was pretty smart.”

  “Or do you remember when you came over for the sleep over, and when you went to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night you knocked over her favorite vase?”

  “Wait, you knew that was me?” she asked. “I thought no one saw me! I was gonna blame it on Jessika when everyone woke up in the morning!”

  “You didn’t have to blame her though, because my mom cast a spell on the vase to fix it before you woke up.”

  “Hold on,” said Bart, who finished getting the grape juice spit off of him. At least, most of it. There were a few spots behind his head he didn’t seem to notice. “You didn’t think that was odd, Bridgette? You shattered a vase and then a few hours later it was fixed?”

  “I mean, when you put it that way… I probably should’ve,” she shrugged. “Anyway, enough about me. What’s your deal?, Mr. Cat? Why are you here?”

  “I told you, I’m not a real cat,” sighed Bart. “I’m a familiar. We help witches learn to control their powers and provide general support.”

  “Ah, so you’re a sidekick.”

  “Exa-What? No, I’m not a sidekick!” said a horrified Bart. “If anything, Zoey is the sidekick.”

  “How am I the sidekick?” I asked. “I’m the one that figures out all the cases!”

  “Which you wouldn’t be able to do without insider information from me! I also teach you how to cast all those spells,” he added. “If anything, I’m your master.”

  “Pssh, yeah right,” I said. “My master can get the spots of grape juice he missed behind his own ears.”

  “Aw man, I knew I didn’t get it all,” he whined, reaching back up with his paw.

  Bridgette glanced down at her phone. “Dan texted that he’s on his way to pick me up. I guess we’ll have to talk about this more later.”

  Dan was Bridgette’s husband, and they were high school sweethearts. He had dropped her off, expecting us to have a girl’s night. He had no idea what we talked about, and I’d need Bridgette to keep this secret from him. I felt bad having her withhold something from him, but it had to be done.

  “I’m happy to help answer anything whenever you have questions,” I smiled.

  “Can you summon zombies?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Can you cast a spell to raise an army of undead?” asked Bridgette.

  “That would be a necromancer,” said Bart. “They’re typically the bad guys.”

  “Ah, that makes sense,” nodded Bridgette. She looked slightly disappointed. “What about a magic flying broom? Or a cauldron filled with a love potion?”

  “I don’t have either of those,” I laughed. “I guess I’m kind of a lame witch.”

  “You are not!” said Bridgette.

  “You are,” said Bart, at the same time. “I think you are the first witch I’ve ever trained that hasn’t immediately asked me how to make a love potion.”

  “Probably because you’re used to dealing with adolescent girls that don’t know love is more than just tricking somebody into having feelings for you with magic,” I said.

  “Good job, Zoey,” said Bart. “You’re so much better than twelve year olds. Should I summon a gold star for you?”

  “Sure,” I nodded. “Then you can take it and shove-”

  “Speaking of love,” interrupted Bridgette. “ Does Drake know?”

  Drake Robinson was the new detective in town. Over the course of the past few months, I’ve helped him solve several cases. In that time, we’ve started to grow closer and there’s definitely been some sparks of romance. Nothing official, though. Yet.

  I shook my head. “You can’t tell anyone I’m a witch, not even Dan. It’ll be really bad for me if this gets out.”

  “Oh wow, I’m the only one that knows?” asked Bridgette, clearly honored.

  “Of course,” I said. While that wasn’t exactly true, I couldn’t explain that my store’s butcher, Thomas Rollin, knew because he was a werewolf.

  “Yes!” she said, fist pumping the air. “Since Drake has come up in the natural course of conversation… how are things going with him?” she asked.

  “Things are going well,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush with color. “He took me to an Italian place the other night. I think we had a good time.”

  “Giovanni’s? The place that Evan would always take you after being jerk?”

  “Yes, but there’s no reason I can’t replace those memories with happier ones,” I said defensively. Evan had been a mistake from years back. Bridgette always hated him, but for some reason we had dated for nearly a year. Thankfully, he had moved away after we broke up for the final time and I hadn’t had to interact with him anymore.

  “No, no, you’re right! I was just trying to remember if that was the right place,” she clarified. “Dan hates Italian food, so we’ve never been there. Do you think he’ll take you out again?”

  “I hope so,” I smiled.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Please don’t tell anybody what we’ve talked about tonight,” I said as I helped Bridgette up and to the door.

  “When have I ever slipped one of your secrets?” asked Bridgette, raising an eyebrow.

  “I know,” I nodded. “I just can’t be too careful.”

  I opened the door to find Dan, Bridgette’s husband, waiting on the other side.

  “Hey ladies,” smiled Dan. “How was your night?”

  “Eventful,” I said.

  “It was fun,” smiled Bridgette, stepping out and joining Dan on the porch. “It’s been too long since we’ve chatted, and it was good to catch up on some exciting things going on in Zoey’s life.”

  “Exciting things?” asked Dan.

  “Well, she spilled the beans much faster than I expected,” said Bart.

  “Yes,” nodded Bridgette. “Her and Drake had a date the other night!”

  “They did?” said Dan, smile widening. Dan and Drake knew each other from college and was on Bridgette’s side when it came to getting us together.

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” I said. “It was just dinner.”

  “I’ll have to ask Drake how it went,” he laughed. “Well I should probably get Bridgette home. Good seeing you, Zoey!”

  “Night guys,” I smiled with a small wave. Bridgette turned around and gave a huge wink to let me know my secret was safe with her.

  I closed the door and leaned back against it. That went better than expected… although I wasn’t really expecting to do magic in front of Bridgette tonight. I shouldn’t be busting out spells and playing with them, even in my own home. This was serious stuff, and the talk with Bridgette could have gone down very differently.

  “Do you think she won’t say anything?” asked Bart. “Not to worry you, but if this gets out, your life will probably be ruined.”

  “She won’t,” I said confidently. “I trust her completely.”

  “Humans typically don’t keep secrets very well.”

  “She can,” I yawned, arms stretching up to the roof. It had been a long week, and a long day. I was looking forward to getting some sleep and having a normal, relaxing week at work. “Now if Charline found out, then I’d be worried.”

  Bart followed me as I went into the bedroom to get ready. “If Charline found out, it would be on the news before you stopped talking to her.”

  Chapter 2

  “You should dress in darker tones,” said Bart, hopping out of the car as we made for Foster’s Market. I
had opened the store a few years earlier, and business was going well.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, glancing down at my long yellow coat. I thought it looked nice.

  “Witches typically don’t try to stand out with their wardrobe choices.”

  “I’m not trying to stand out. It’s cold out, and this is one of my favorite coats. Do you hate my hat, too?” I asked, tugging on my red knitted cap.

  “You don’t have to get all defensive,” he said as we walked into the store. “I was just saying witches typically dress in various shades of black and gray. Maybe an occasional brown.”

  “I didn’t realize familiars were also gifted at fashion advise.”

  “I’m a being of many talents,” he purred.

  I walked through the produce department, where Jimmy Ralin was hard at work unloading heads of lettuce. He was fresh out of high school and eager to prove himself. He was a hard worker, and I recently promoted him to department head of produce.

  “Morning, Jimmy!”

  “Hello, Miss Foster,” said Jimmy, wiping his hands on his shirt as he walked up to me. “I’m sorry, but this department is a mess.”

  “It is?” I asked, looking around. Everything was well stocked, the floors looked swept, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  “It’s a travesty what is going on around here,” said Jimmy, shaking his head. “We used to have two people in produce, but now that it’s just me, I’m constantly struggling to keep up.”

  “You seem to be doing fine,” I said gesturing around. I could understand wanting to have a second person to help out, though.

  “I… I feel like I’m not being set up for success.”

  “Did he read that in a book or something?” asked Bart.

  I was taken aback by the professional sounding phrasing, but I could see where he was coming from. It wasn’t fair to double his work after I promoted Eric out of the produce department.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, and I can see where you’re coming from,” I nodded. “I’ll look into hiring you some help.”

  “R-Really?” said Jimmy, trying to suppress a smile. He seemed surprised that it worked.

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll let you know when we find somebody. In the mean time, keep up the good work!”