Hexed in show, p.1
Hexed in Show, page 1
Hexed in Show
Sonoma Witches
Book Six
Gretchen Galway
Eton Field
Contents
From the Back Cover
Free book offer: Alma’s First Case
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Epilogue
Books by Gretchen Galway
About the Author
HEXED IN SHOW
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Copyright © 2023 by Gretchen Galway
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Eton Field, Publisher
www.gretchengalway.com
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Cover design by Gretchen Galway
Stock art images: Depositphotos
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All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, no part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the Author.
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All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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eBook ISBN: 978-1-939872-36-4
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-939872-35-7
v.20230914
HEXED IN SHOW
Sonoma Witches Book Six
It’s the Elwin Flower Show, where witches throw the biggest garden event of the year. One little murder isn’t going to stop it.
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Maybe not even two.
Witch Alma Bellrose’s life has finally settled down. After resolving a series of magical mysteries, she’s enjoying a quiet life with her dog and fae boyfriend, Seth.
But nothing ever stays quiet in Silverpool for long.
Right after her boyfriend leaves on a trip, there’s a supernatural attack on her home. When she rescues one friend, she learns of a sudden and suspicious death of another, leaving her reeling — and determined to find the killer.
Soon she’s at the Elwin Flower Show on the northern California coast, pretending to be a contestant in the biggest botanical event in the world — at least for the fanatical witches who participate.
One mystery turns into two, then three. She starts to doubt everyone, even her most trusted colleague. When she digs up a shocking secret, she races to protect the final target’s life.
And her own.
Free book offer: Alma’s First Case
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Sign up for Gretchen’s newsletter here and get a FREE copy of Death on Witch Street: Alma’s First Case, a prequel story to the entire Sonoma Witches series.
Chapter
One
“You’re not leaving forever, right?” I asked.
The changeling and I stood beside the garden between our two houses, under a beam of early-June sunshine. Most people would be glad to see the last of a fairy who had permanently stolen the body of a human being, but he was my boyfriend. I’d grown more than a little fond of him.
Seth grinned at me, reaching forward to brush hair out of my eyes. His touch was as soft as milkweed floss. “You wish, demon’s daughter.”
I didn’t take the bait. He loved to tease me about the many fun facets of my identity: part demon, all witch, daughter of a criminal, bead artist, secret agent for the Protectorate, gnome wrangler, terrible cook, unreliable gardener. “Seriously,” I said. “How long will you be gone?”
We lived in a remote town about two hours north of San Francisco, but he was originally from Minnesota and had a flight to return that afternoon.
He kissed me on the forehead. “Too long, Alma. Too long.”
“You don’t have to go.”
He flinched a little and turned away. “You read the email. My mother is up to her tricks again. I can’t let her ruin another life.”
His kind, the lake fae, were difficult to appreciate—ruthless, amoral, and often cruel. His fae mother had exchanged his spirit with that of a human baby boy, allowing Seth to be raised with love and comfort. Unlike the little human who’d become a fairy. Unhappy life, unhappy death.
“What will you do if it’s too late?” I asked.
He played with the car keys in his hand. “I don’t know,” he said finally, his eyes downcast.
“You’re worrying me,” I said. It wasn’t like Seth to brood. He often teased me for even thinking about the future. Live in the moment, enjoy the warmth of the sun—or chill in the rain—and always be grateful for what you have. To see him so uncharacteristically anxious made me reach for the strong magical beads on my wrist and cast a protective spell around him.
Amused by my unnecessary effort—in ways I didn’t understand, he had more magic than I did—he seemed to shake off his gloom and become my lighthearted, wisecracking fairy again. “You like worrying,” he replied, pulling me into a hug. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m away. Then again, go ahead. Trouble makes you happy.”
I sighed happily against his chest. We understood each other. “Text me while you’re away,” I said. He was naturally secretive, but I was working on him. “More than once. With more than a few words. Actually tell me what’s going on.”
“Hm,” he mumbled into my hair. It wasn’t a promise.
I pinched him where he’d notice. After he yelped, I repeated, “Text me.”
“Fine, fine,” he said, rubbing the sore spot. “You’ll get tired of hearing from me. You’ll end up blocking me on your phone.”
“Good.” I broke away from him and pushed him toward the SUV he was taking to the airport. The Ford had been a gift—well, a payment, really—for my helping a friend out of a deadly family situation. But although the electric SUV was smooth and shiny, I hadn’t been able to give up my Jeep. Seth ended up driving the new one most of the time. “Please go before I try to stop you,” I said.
He flashed another grin. “That game sounds like fun. We should try it. Will you sprinkle blueberry leaves on me like last week?”
My heart squeezed. A romance between a demon-stained witch and a changeling shouldn’t have felt so good. So right.
I kissed him; he kissed me back. Too soon, he was driving away.
Fighting tears, I turned back to my house. Because I was so emotional, I almost didn’t notice the break in my protective boundary spells along the driveway.
I got a grip on myself—and the most powerful redwood bead on my necklace—and followed the sense of wrongness into the shade of the redwood trees in the backyard.
My backyard contained a detached garage, a small patio, overgrown weeds, and a towering redwood tree. Almost as wide as my one-car garage, the ancient redwood rose up from my backyard like a giant’s leg without a foot.
Or maybe there was a foot, and it was underground where Willy the Gnome lived. Sometimes he appeared in front of a magical little door at the base of the trunk to talk to me. Although we’d been friendly neighbors for several years, I was still careful to use my best manners with Willy. Gnomes were sticklers for protocol. He protected me, my house, my dog, my interests. In return, I brought him baked goods, burritos, and plenty of compliments.
His power was vast and mysterious, but today something was wrong. The broken boundary spell and the wrongness that had invaded my property were leading directly to the base of his tree. Instead of a miniature, shimmering front door, there was a rotted hole.
My stomach sank. “Willy?” I pulled more power from my redwood-bead necklace and surrounded myself with it. As I moved closer to the tree, my sandals crunched in the gravel along my cracked, weedy driveway. I was always meaning to clean up the yard—both Willy and Seth pressured me all the time—but I never got around to it. “Willy?”
There was no response. My heart began to pound. If something had been able to break my boundary spells and hurt Willy, it had to be very powerful—more powerful than me.
And Seth and I had just been standing in the road a minute ago. We’d spent the ni
For a split second, feeling a stab of fear, I considered calling him and asking him to come back to help me look for Willy. But the gnome didn’t like Seth because he was a changeling. He called him the “impostor” or “wrong one.” Whatever was going on in my backyard, introducing another magical force to the party might backfire. Seth had protected and cared for me, but I still had the winning score for saving lives, in particular his.
I’d have to go on protecting him. Willy had once lifted the most powerful witch and demon killer in the Protectorate into the air and dumped him into the middle of the street. If he’d been hurt by an assailant, then…
Then Seth and I might not stand a chance. If I let Seth continue to the airport, at least one of us would live.
I’d faced death before, but now I had so much more to lose. Love made me more afraid of danger and loss, but also braver. I’d fight to protect him. I’d fight to protect our life together.
“Willy,” I called out, more loudly but unsteadily.
I waited for a sign in the silence, ignoring the pounding of my heart.
Chapter
Two
Over the course of the next sixty seconds, I stretched out all my senses, magical and physical. I scanned the ground, the trees and branches, the small patio, and the woodland around my house.
The small wood sprites and flower fairies that usually gathered near my house were still there, assuring me there wasn’t a demon nearby. And I couldn’t feel any other witch’s hex or spell residues. Nothing stood out except for the magical trail of wrongness that had swooped in through the road, broken my boundary spell, and blasted the base of the tree.
Where it ended. And seemed to be fading with each breath.
After I gathered the guts to move closer to the tree and crept around it, I concluded that the force had struck viciously but was no longer there.
I let out a long breath. The danger had passed—for me, anyway. But I couldn’t just let Willy suffer. He’d saved my life and my dignity more than once. We were allies, we were neighbors, and we were friends.
After hurrying down the driveway to reestablish my boundary spells, I called my friend Birdie.
She picked up immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you OK? I knew I shouldn’t have taken Random overnight. Seth’s probably gone and now you’re alone and don’t have a dog to protect you. Are you bleeding? Sorry—dumb question, we’re witches. I keep forgetting that if you’re calling me, it’s probably something magic—”
“Birdie, listen to me,” I said. She had trouble, especially at the beginning of a conversation, to stop talking. It usually slowed down on its own, but I didn’t have time. “I’m not hurt, but Willy’s missing. Can you come? Bring Random and whatever magic you’ve got to protect yourself.”
“You think he left because Random was with me?” Birdie asked. “I know Willy likes him, but I don’t think he’d just leave because Random did. I mean, I take Random all the time when you and your babe need alone time.”
Despite the urgency of the situation, I felt myself blushing. “No, I think something attacked him. There’s… There’s something bad. I’m not sure what it is.”
Birdie hesitated only a second. “I’ll be there. I just have to close the store and get Random’s leash. I guess I can put a sign on the door. Do you think I’ll be back today? Or, I guess, ever? I’m not saying I’m complaining about being a witch, but sometimes it makes planning difficult.”
Birdie hadn’t known she was a witch until I’d told her. Since then, in the midst of a few life-threatening but educational situations, she’d been able to start training and had opened a bookstore with a specialty in the supernatural.
Books, I thought suddenly. “Birdie, could you please bring any books you’ve got about gnomes? I don’t think there’s much written down, but maybe we can find something useful.”
Birdie’s voice expressed the joy my request had given her. She loved to help me and show her growing skills. “Totally,” she said, sounding as if she was already rushing around. “See you in a minute!”
“Thanks.” I ended the call and used my phone to take a picture of the hole at the base of the tree. Then I knelt on the ground and, gripping my beads in one hand, gingerly touched the dark, shredded bark.
Now that I was studying the hole from close up, I decided it was an old, natural injury to the tree. Willy must’ve used it as some kind of entrance and then camouflaged it.
I was still pacing around the backyard, looking for clues, when Birdie arrived with Random. My boundary spells were attuned to her, and she was able to walk in unhindered with a small stack of books in her arms. Random broke away with the leash dangling and ran to sniff a dandelion growing through a crack in the patio.
“There wasn’t much about gnomes, but I got what there was even though some of what I’ve read in here isn’t even true,” she said. “I mean, we know Willy would never kill anybody just because they had bad manners.”
I wasn’t so sure. I took the books out of her hands. “Thanks. See the weird hole?” I gestured at the base of the redwood.
Birdie frowned at it. “I don’t remember that being there.”
“Exactly. But there was some magic residue, not good, coming from the road. And he’s gone.”
“Oh no.” She looked around, hands up and fingers splayed in a defensive stance. “Should we go inside?”
“I think it’s safe now.” I hugged the books against my chest. “But yeah. Let’s.”
Inside at my kitchen table, I spread out the five books and cast a quick seeking spell to see if my subconscious or the mysteries of the universe would give me a hint.
None. Five was a good number though, so maybe I’d get lucky.
“What are we looking for?” Birdie picked up the smallest book. About the size of a sandwich, it had a bright yellow cover and the title, Gnomes and Their Ways, in a feminine script. I was unable to read the author’s name under Birdie’s hand, but I doubted it would mean anything to me. Witches seldom wrote under their real names. “Who would want to hurt Willy anyway?” she added.
“Who could is my question,” I said. “But you’ve got the right idea to look for potential enemies. I know—”
Against my will, my teeth clamped together. The movement was sudden and slightly painful, reminding me with a shock that there were some topics I could absolutely not discuss.
I know genies hate gnomes. To utter those words aloud would’ve come too close to revealing the existence of a genie nearby who granted wishes if adequate payment was provided. As part of one of those deals, I’d once agreed to a magical nondisclosure agreement that was strong enough to impress even the most ruthless entrepreneurs in Silicon Valley. Whenever a topic ventured near the existence of Jen Bardak, owner of Cypress Hardware on Main Street, I would completely lose the ability to communicate.
