Baffling Blend Page 2

  “Don’t you dare,” I warned, yanking back the baggie that still held a couple of crumbs. I set my coffee on top of the seal so that he couldn’t get to it. “Leo, do you know why I am having dreams that seem to be coming true?”

  Leo remained silent, though his crooked left whisker began to tic in time with the large clock hanging on the wall behind me. What could he possibly know about dreams basically being premonitions?

  “This isn’t something that can be swept under the rug, Leo. You read my thoughts every single second of the day, which means you know exactly what happened in my dream last night.” I rested a hand on the rim of my coffee cup a little harder when I saw Leo’s paw attempt to draw out the baggie from underneath its trap. “Cora Barnes was walking past the display window when a…”

  I should have known that my morning would only get worse.

  The moment I’d mentioned the malt shop owner, she happened to appear outside on the sidewalk wearing the exact same dress coat and prim-styled hat from my dream. It was like a rerun from some old television show playing right out in front of me. I didn’t even have to be told that a small bird would swoop down and attack the yellow feather sticking out of Cora’s hat.

  Wow. Look at that woman duck, swing, and…it’s a miss! This is so much better played out in person than in your dream. Oh, that chickadee is definitely coming back for a second-round of attack.

  “I know that,” I whispered harshly to Leo, who was enjoying himself a little too much at Cora’s expense. I quickly made my way around the counter and headed for the door in an attempt to stop a catastrophe. “It’s the third round that breaks her arm, which we cannot allow to happen.”

  Good luck with that! I’m not so sure that premonitions work that way, Raven, but have at it. This could be amusing. I’ll just move your coffee to the side so that I can enjoy what is left of my mid-morning snack. Wait just a bird’s beak. My BFF left more edibles in that drawer, right? Raven? Hey, come back here!

  Chapter Two

  “I’m fine, really,” Cora said for the tenth time, shooing me away from her as she flipped her yellow hat over to look for any damage. The feather was missing and some of the fabric had been snagged from the little bird clawing at it, but the most important factor was that she hadn’t broken her arm. “I can’t believe something so tiny could inflict so much damage on a hat.”

  Take it from someone with firsthand knowledge, those little chickadees are not to be messed with. They have a mean streak a mile wide. I have a small patch of fur missing from my backside, and it had nothing to do with the aftereffects of that wicked necromancy spell. Their beaks are like the jaws of miniature velociraptors.

  “I’m just glad that you’re okay,” I said, my thoughts spinning with the knowledge that I’d just changed the outcome of my dream. I didn’t want to rush Cora out the door, but Leo and I had a lot to discuss about our current dilemma. I’m pretty sure the omens that have been presenting themselves to me wasn’t an ability that ran through the Marigold lineage. “Are you sure that I can’t get you a cup of tea to settle your nerves?”

  Wow, Raven. You’re absolutely horrible at getting people to leave. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.

  Before I could stop Leo from behaving like a belligerent domesticated cat, he promptly reached out and took a swipe at Cora’s yellow hat. He was still on the counter next to the cash register, enjoying the aftereffects of his favorite minty herb, so it wasn’t like he had to reach far. Cora gasped in horror, yanking her hat away from Leo’s clutches.

  “Bad kitty,” Cora admonished with a frown as she stood up from one of the stools that I’d dragged over from one of the high-top tables. I winced when she leaned forward and shook her finger in front of Leo, practically asking him to sink his crooked fang right into skin. “Shame on you.”

  I was willing to let the bad kitty remark slide, but how dare this woman wag—

  I quickly stepped in the middle of the two, blocking Leo from going through with his intentions to teach Cora a lesson in manners. It wasn’t that Leo had a thing for etiquette. Far from it, but Cora had the ability to bring out the worst in people. She and my mother had an ongoing feud that was only absolved on the surface. Deep down, they would remain mortal enemies until the day they died and into the hereafter.

  Considering that we have been visited by the afterlife, I’m relatively certain that your mother will be able to hold a grudge far beyond eternity.

  Leo had a point, but that wasn’t a problem we needed to worry about today.

  “I’m so sorry about Leo, but he probably just smells the bird. You know how cats can be,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief when Cora huffed in snootiness and turned around on the high heels of her dress shoes in her bid to leave. So much for any gratitude over the fact that I’d just saved her from a trip to the hospital. “I’m sure you can find an even prettier feather for your hat.”

  You can also tell her to stick that feather up her—

  “I’m not sure that the snagged fabric can be fixed, but I will take it to Justine this afternoon. I have a blazer that I need to drop off to her anyway,” Cora said, taking the time to adjust her scarf before stepping outside into the dropping temperature. “I do appreciate that you came out to help me. Will you be attending the town hall meeting next week to discuss the upcoming assessments that the mayor would like to add this year?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there,” I replied, somewhat surprised that Cora had thanked me for shooing the bird away before he could cause any more damage to her attire. “I hope your day goes better than your morning.”

  Good riddance. I might have to rethink my opinion on those obnoxious chickadees. It could be that they were just trying to do us a favor by attacking the town’s villainess.

  “Leo, you were the one who started that little spat.” I walked back to where Leo was still stretched out on the counter, reaching over him for my coffee cup. The contents were now lukewarm. I went about adding some hot coffee to my mug from the carafe I’d made earlier, generating the perfect warmth to drink. “Third time is a charm, which means I finally believe that I’ve been having premonitions. The question is why? Nothing of substance in the supernatural aspect of our lives has happened since before Christmas. The enchanted blends that I’ve been creating have been spot on, and Aunt Rowena has been doing her best to keep us out of her little war with the coven.”

  That we know of, Raven. You know how crafty the Wicked Witch of Windsor can be when she sets her mind to it. Don’t go getting too comfy, if you know what I mean.

  Leo had a point, but my right hand had been relatively cool lately. I had the subconscious ability to detect danger resulting in me harnessing energy into the palm of my hand when there was the potential of danger nearby. The last three months had been pretty relaxed in that department.

  “Leo, you know something,” I prompted, hoping that he would finally give in and tell me the meaning behind these premonitions. “Spill.”

  As much as I would love to be the know-it-all vizier you seem to think I am today, it’s just not so. The Marigold witches have never had the ability to see into the future. I do believe that there was a coven in Minnesota that contained a family of seers, but I haven’t spoken to any of the other covens’ familiars since the day my beloved Rosemary was excommunicated from ours.

  I’d been watching Leo very closely as he gave his answer, and I could admit that he almost had me with his reply. He’d even thrown in facts about a coven in Minnesota, knowing full well that the history of other covens fascinated me. I knew how to play this game, though.

  I didn’t say another word.

  I simply sipped my coffee and continued to stare at him until that left whisker began to tic a little faster than the second hand on the large wall clock.

  I won the staring contest after sixteen seconds.

  Fine. I’ll confess! I might have knocked one of the potions you made onto the dreamcatcher we keep on the bottom shelf of the hutch. There. Ar
e you happy now? I’ll have you know that I had Ted clean up every drop of purple goo.

  “You knocked over a…” I couldn’t even begin to finish my sentence, because the ramifications of mixing a magical potion with a supernatural artifact were beyond horrifying. “Leo, please tell me it wasn’t the dreamcatcher we found at the antique shop; the one with that lone pentagon in the middle of it. I can only guess at its origins.”

  Okay. I won’t tell you that.

  Leo rolled backward, sniffing at the empty bag of treats that Beetle had left behind. He groaned when he was reminded of the fact that it was empty and stayed in that spot as he attempted to talk his way out of a very troublesome problem. The complications resulting from such a snafu was overwhelming.

  “Purple goo,” I whispered to myself, attempting to trigger a memory of which concoction had been that particular color. We had weekly, and sometimes more often, lessons regarding witchcraft. It had only been in the last month or so that we’d included basic potions into the mix, although I definitely preferred my magical tea leaf blends over liquid vials. “The purple potion was for the houseplants, Leo. It was only created to provide them more nourishment and give them the ability to grow.”

  Exactly, Raven. That’s why I didn’t mention it. I mean, what are the odds of me knocking a purple vial of potion onto an ancient supernatural relic, only to then have you become some type of psychic?

  By this time, Leo had managed to roll back on his side so that he was once again facing me. We both stared at each other in contemplation, simply to realize his theory is exactly what had happened.

  “Oh, Leo, we might be in real trouble here,” I whispered in dread, slowly climbing up on the stool that I’d pulled out for Cora. I wasn’t sure my legs could hold me up after such a revelation. “I’m still adjusting to being a newly minted witch. It took me over a year to find my rhythm, and it’s been going so well lately. I’m not cut out to be a psychic, Leo.”

  I wouldn’t say it’s been going well. Fair, maybe. But not well. You do recall what happened last month, right? There’s a difference between being subjective and delusional.

  “I couldn’t have foreseen Mindy knocking the mannequin over before Mercury was in retrograde,” I said for the hundredth time in the last four weeks. The whole animated invocation to turn an inanimate object into a living thing hadn’t quite gone as planned. “We just need to postpone the ritual until the next September. Anyway, did you have to bring that up? Ted is just now willing to talk to me again.”

  Ted had also come with the teashop and cottage. He was literally Lurch from The Addams Family, although he’d originally been a wax figure at the museum here in town. It was an odd tourist attraction, but the sightseers genuinely seem to get a kick out of it.

  Anyway, Nan had given Ted life in her bid to have a confidant and helper after she’d been excommunicated from the coven. His mannerisms were rather stiff, but he was a gentleman through and through. Other than his penchant for wearing suits that were styled in the late 1800s, his speech was a bit stunted and I’m pretty sure his heart was made of pure untainted gold. Seriously, he’d do anything for anyone…and I’d ruined his chance of having a soulmate.

  At least, that’s how Ted had seen the situation last month.

  Mindy had knocked over the mannequin that Ted had fallen in love with after Nan had passed on. It had been by accident, of course, but somehow the pole the mannequin had been affixed to in order to stand upright had been broken. I’d decided the best course of action was to wait until the next time Mercury went into retrograde, just in cases the pole was somehow important to her being able to stand and walk. Let’s just say that my opinion hadn’t gone over so well with the home crowd.

  I didn’t know that Ted had such a vulgar vocabulary. Not to make you feel worse, but he was still going on and on about it at Wednesday night’s poker game. Who would have ever thought the day would arrive that I would feel sorry for that blob of wax?

  “Why would that make me feel worse, Leo?” I asked wryly, shaking my head when it was clear that I’d probably need to ask Ted for help with our current plight. “I need the family grimoire. There has to be something in there to undo accidents such as this one.”

  You’re assuming it was me who caused all this hullabaloo. We don’t know anything for absolute certain. Nothing of the sort.

  “You’re in denial,” I moaned, so tired that I could probably just put my head back and fall asleep sitting upright on this stool. The lure of resting my eyes was a bit much, so I gave in just a tad. “I don’t want to ever hear about my accident-prone tendencies ever again, Leo.”

  In my defense, the feather that was dangling from the—

  Leo abruptly stopped talking, and I popped my eyes open to see what had happened. He was still stretched out on the counter. Taking a quick glance around the teashop, I couldn’t find a thing out of place. It was then that I replayed his words over in my mind, only to then smile when I thought that wasn’t possible this morning.

  “You just realized that you’re no different than the chickadee that attacked Cora’s hat, didn’t you? Easily distracted, must destroy anything of color, and most definitely will attack anything with feathers.” Just because my life was currently in turmoil didn’t mean that I couldn’t take a smidge of enjoyment here and there. “Should I expect you to start tweeting soon or are you going to ask for a cracker?”

  Go ahead. Get your laughs in, Raven. I’d like to point out that we are not certain that me spilling a purple potion that flourishes one’s abilities onto an ancient magical dreamcatcher had anything to do with your new psychic abilities. You could simply be experiencing a supernatural phenomenon, who I happen to be a mentor of and might have had a hand in creating. If that’s the case, some might view me as a stellar familiar.

  “You and I both know that I didn’t become some sort of psychic overnight.” I didn’t bother to hold back my groan of frustration. “Leo, this is serious. You need to go find Ted and have him bring me the family grimoire. Just keep meowing until he has no choice but to follow you into the cottage from his place around back.”

  Shed. It’s a Ted-Shed, Raven. Get it straight.

  Ted’s home did resemble a shed that was positioned on the back of my property near the bay, but he never allowed anyone to take more than a glance inside the structure. I’m relatively sure that it transformed into some magical home where he had access to miles of greenhouses in order to collect the various rare herbs, flowers, and plants needed for the holistic tea blends we created for the residents of Paramour Bay. It had to be an additional dimensional space of some sort.

  What I loved most about Ted was that he had an outlook on life that made one just happy to be in his presence.

  Are we talking about the same walking crayon? I’m pretty sure he would have liked to scribble you into nonexistence four weeks ago.

  “Leo,” I warned, arching my eyebrow just as my mother had not even forty minutes ago.

  I’m going, I’m going. Hey, if you fall asleep and dream about our demise, send up some type of flare. I have a stash of premium organic catnip at the cottage that I don’t want to let go to waste. It’s far better to be prepared than to be caught wanting.

  Chapter Three

  “Why do you look like you stayed awake for the last twenty-four hours binging the third season of ‘Sabrina the Teenage Witch’ on Netflix?” Heidi Connolly asked as she breezed into the tea shop at exactly one minute after closing. I’d flipped the sign over earlier, but she knew that I kept the door unlocked for her evening visit. “I confess to watching it without you last weekend, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Did your mom rat me out? I do know that if either one of you start spouting on and on about the Dark Lord, I’m throwing all of my belongings in my car and heading back to New York City.”

  Since Beetle and my mother had left for their weekend up in Maine, I had no choice but to mind the teashop today. I spent time in between customers going through the family g
rimoire in hopes of finding some type of spell that would fix this mishap. I could admit to having numerous ones of those myself, but they’d always been easily resolved.

  You mean the time you ended up causing my tail to be numb when making the former sheriff’s arthritis blend? Or when you hurled an energy ball directly at Ted by accident? I still can’t get over the fact that he didn’t melt into a blob of grey candle wax on the spot.

  “Heidi, we have a major problem on our hands,” I replied from my seat at the counter. I could no longer feel my buttocks, and my eyesight had become somewhat blurry from reading so many incantations. “Leo messed up.”

  Hey! Now wait just a chickadee’s feather. Don’t you go telling my soulmate things like that when it’s you who ninety-nine percent of the time have the accident-prone tendencies that land us in hot water. I’ve tested the temperature, and I’m relatively certain that we’re in tepid waters right now.

  “Leo, what did you do now? Did you ingest too many edibles again?”

  Remind my soulmate that it is not possible for such a thing to happen. I’m not particularly liking this negative vibe you two have going on, Raven.

  “Do you remember how I was practicing with potions earlier this week?” I asked, not bothering to wait for her answer. I slammed the grimoire shut in frustration. “Leo spilled the purple one that was supposed to be for feeding the houseplants onto the ancient dreamcatcher I have sitting on a shelf in the hutch cabinet at home. He’s the reason I’ve been having these premonitions.”

  I’m sure there is an easy fix for it. Who needs a full night’s sleep anyway? It’s easier just to catch sleep in two-hour intervals.

  Heidi had detoured over to Leo’s cat bed in the display window, giving him tender scratches behind his right ear. I was pretty sure that I could hear his purrs of satisfaction from where I sat on the stool. Then again, it might have been the rumbles of frustration emitting from my throat.