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Authors: Joyce and Jim Lavene

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BOOK: Putting on the Witch
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Dorothy laughed. She seemed to be enjoying her father's company. Given that she didn't know him either, he seemed to be pleasant enough. He was very handsome and charming, probably the traits that had led Olivia to take up with him in the first place. If he decided to take Dorothy with him, I wasn't sure we could discourage her from going. What a life he could offer her.

And being on the good side of the Council of Witches wasn't exactly enough to tip the scales. Dorothy had already run into them and seen what they were like—including Brian's grandfather.

“Ah, tea!” Drago sat back as we put the tray on the table. “The old-fashioned way. Ladies, you've made a splendid home for yourselves here. Am I to assume Dorothy is part of your coven?”

“Yes.” Brian leaned forward and glared at him. “So am I.”

Without a sign of anger or hostility, Drago helped himself to Olivia's cup and ignored him. “That's wonderful. It's important for young witches to have support. I was with a coven for most of my formative years. The things I learned while there have stood the test of time.” He kissed Dorothy's hand. “And for me, that's a lot of time!”

Dorothy stared at him as though he was about to sprout wings and fly away. The stunned look in her eyes said it all. How could anyone compete with a thousand-year-old super witch?

Olivia quietly pouted. “He took my cup, Molly.”

“Hush. You can't drink out of it anyway. No theatrics right now. We need to concentrate.”

She backed down. I knew she was terrified, having dreaded this moment for so many years. But it was upon us now. We needed to be very careful what we did and said next. Attacking Drago didn't seem like the best course of action to me. It wasn't completely my decision, but I hoped even Brian would see that Drago's magic was beyond us. This needed a diplomatic solution.

Elsie and I sat at the small table with Dorothy and Drago. Olivia hovered above us. Brian sat just behind Drago and Dorothy as though it was a strategic choice for him. I doubted it was, but it did keep him from glaring at them.

In the old days, before Olivia's death, and before Dorothy joined us, it was just the three of us. We'd sat at this table in Smuggler's Arcane surrounded by books of magic, herbs, candles and other witch's tools. We'd worked on our spells and discussed the world across tea, and the occasional chocolate cake.

Time passed and we held our magic in check, not going beyond the small acts of daily life—repairing flat tires and broken dishes. Elsie and I had married men without magic and each had a child with no magic. We were women, mothers and wives more often than we were witches. That distinction, and our choices, had left our magic weak and fading.

But things had changed.

“What brings you here?” Dorothy asked her father. “I mean, I know you didn't just come to see me, right? It's been a long time between visits.”

We all stopped speaking, surprised that she'd asked the question. She'd seemed so enthralled with him. The question, and the tone, might be saying otherwise.

Drago smiled and took a careful sip of his tea. “Surely a man might come to meet his only child who was kept secret from him for so many years.”

His strangely iridescent blue-eyed gaze locked with hers across the table. Brian covered Dorothy's hand, and Olivia moved in closer with a sigh that whispered through the shop.

“You've never come before,” she said. “I know how powerful you are, or at least are said to be. You could've found me if you'd really wanted. I never even knew I had living parents until last year.” She shrugged. “Well, at least one of you is still alive.”

“I'm very sorry.” Drago's words sounded sincere. His face appeared to be earnest. “Believe me, if your birth hadn't been hidden from me by your mother, I would've been here long ago to claim you as my daughter and heir to my magic. Nothing could have kept me away.”

His glance toward Olivia was both angry and unflattering. “It was wrong for you to keep her a secret, Olivia,” he said. “I did nothing but show you kindness. You believed the things the council says about me without giving me an opportunity to prove that I am not the man they say I am.”

“Isn't this excellent tea?” Elsie nervously laughed. “I'm thinking about a second cup. Anyone else?”

But everyone else was involved in a staring contest as we all waited to see if Drago could or would try to take Dorothy away.

Father's and daughter's gazes finally broke free. Dorothy's uncertain brown eyes went to Brian for support. Drago saw where her attentions were riveted and looked down to study the tea in his cup.

“I can see I make you unhappy,” Drago said. “I assure you, my intentions are honorable. I don't want to disrupt your life, Dorothy. I just wanted to see you for myself. I'd like to be part of what you do from here on. I know it will take some time to get used to me. But I have as much time as you need.”

He slowly got to his feet as we all watched him carefully—and held our breaths.

“But I won't force myself on you, no matter what anyone has told you about me. Your mother did a remarkable job of hiding you. I truly didn't know you existed until yesterday.” He smoothed a hand down her sleek hair. “You are the only child I have ever conceived, my only heir. That means something to me. I'll be close by, my dear, if you decide you'd like to talk.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Let's have lunch. I'm sure your protectors wouldn't object. Shall I give you a call? Or you could call me when you're ready.”

“I don't have your cell phone number,” Dorothy calmly replied.

He smiled. “I don't need one, darling. Speak my name and I shall be there.”

He vanished, and the rest of us let go the breaths we'd been holding.

CHAPTER 2

“Never mind the tea. I think this calls for a drop of whiskey.” Elsie got up to rummage around behind the counter.

“There is no whiskey. You don't even drink whiskey,” Olivia snapped at her. “You'd better stop keeping company with that werewolf. He's teaching you bad habits.”

Elsie had been dating Larry Tyler, a local werewolf who lived on a houseboat so he could escape to the sea when it came time for his monthly change. All of us liked Larry—we'd known him as a shop customer for years. He was fun, vegetarian and a great friend. But Olivia was right. Dating Larry had changed Elsie. For the better, as far as I was concerned. She was a lot more like her old self that I recalled from our younger days. She was stronger and healthier. Even her magic had come up a notch or two. I was excited for her, though her daughter, Aleese, wasn't.

Olivia and Elsie just liked to give each other a hard time. It was friendly, the kind of joking that could be done with someone you've known all your life.

“I'm with Elsie.” Brian dumped out his cold tea and took a flask from his pocket. He poured whiskey into his cup and held it out. “Anyone else?”

Elsie took some with a scornful glance at Olivia, but Dorothy and I abstained.

“I wish I could have a drop or two,” Olivia said.

“Are you dating a werewolf too?” Elsie asked with a laugh. “Oh no. You're a ghost. I almost forgot. Ghosts don't date, do they?”

“Why are you always so mean about me being dead?” Olivia demanded. “It's not like it was my fault. I don't like being dead, you know.”

“I think we should all go home and get some rest,” I recommended. “It's been a long day and we're all on edge. We'll meet back here tomorrow to resume training.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Brian put his arm around Dorothy's shoulders. “How about dinner, beautiful?”

“I think Molly's right,” Dorothy said, surprisingly stern about it. “I think we should each go home and get some rest. I'm exhausted. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” His smile vanished. “I'll be here. Just don't take off with your dad without telling me, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Olivia asked. “Dorothy's not going anywhere with Drago. I've told her what he's really like. She knows better. She wouldn't do anything like that after all I went through to keep her safe.”

“Don't take this the wrong way,” he replied, “but I know what it's like to have relatives who are uber powerful and want to lead you astray. It can be very seductive.”

He and Olivia stared at Dorothy as though she was a specimen they were about to dissect.

“I'm not going anywhere with Drago,” she denied. “I mean, sure he was captivating and knows everything after being alive so long. No telling what he could teach me and
the wonders of the world that he could show me.” She took a deep breath. “But I'm not interested.”

Brian appeared unconvinced. Olivia looked tearful and uncertain.

“Really,” Dorothy continued, “I'm not interested—at least not enough to run away with him. Maybe to have lunch with him. Or drinks. Or something. What? He's my father. I can't just ignore him even if he is evil.”

Dorothy said good night and picked up her mother's staff so that Olivia's ghost would accompany her. It was the only thing that tethered Olivia to her earthly form. Olivia had collected runes for it—she was an air witch—for many years. Dorothy, an earth witch, was only able to wield her mother's staff because they were blood relatives. Dorothy's own tool was a piece of emerald cull.

As soon as they were out the door, Brian turned to me and Elsie.

“I'm not gonna get a wink of sleep worrying about her. I might as well hang around their house until we find out what's going on. I wish I wouldn't have found an apartment already. I could still be living with them. You two want to take shifts on this or what?”

“I really think this is Dorothy's decision,” Elsie said. “Like you said, many witches have powerful, seductive friends and relatives who could lead them astray. She has to figure this out for herself.”

“But she doesn't have the background for it,” he argued. “I grew up in the Fuller family with the Grand Council breathing down my neck and my parents trying to tell me what I should do. Dorothy doesn't have that experience. And she trusts everyone.” Brian, an air witch, took out his wand.

“I think Elsie's right,” I agreed with her. “We can't actively interfere, as much as we might like to. But the three of us could put a locator spell on her so that if he does
manage to convince her to leave, we could find her. It would give us the chance to talk some sense into her.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Let's do that. I'm not giving her up without a fight.”

“That's the spirit.” Elsie patted him on the back. “You have to fight for what you want. Look at me and Larry. We couldn't even be together if it was up to other witches and the council.”

Elsie was a fire witch. She took out her sword and repeated an incantation for power.

I was a water witch—the most powerful among us as far as elements went. Wilmington was in a strong position for water magic, sandwiched between the coast and the river. I had always used a small cauldron as my symbol of magic until last year when I'd rediscovered the amulet passed down to me from my mother. Now I used that strong charm that held a bit of the sea in it—a gift to an ancestor from an ancient sea god. I could feel its strength flow through me.

The three of us held hands and whispered a locator spell that would keep Dorothy in our sights. It was her decision to make, but I was too fond of her to take it for granted that she would ignore her father's charm. At least we could offer help and guidance if she needed it.

Creating the spell was much simpler now than it had been last year. Elsie and I were more focused and in tune with our magic. Brian, of course, not only had youth and focus on his side, he had passion and fear motivating him. He loved Dorothy. I didn't believe that he would let her go so easily.

Elsie, Brian and I set stronger protection spells on the shop before we left. I wasn't sure there was a spell we could conjure that would keep Drago out, but we all felt the need to try. I locked up and followed Brian and Elsie into the parking lot. Brian left in his bright red corvette with the WCHYMAN license plate, a gift from his family.

“What do you think, Molly?” Elsie asked as we got in my car. “If Drago was here to hurt Dorothy or take her away, he was certainly nice and polite about it, wasn't he? Not like the water witch trying to take Brian! I'm sure he could've done whatever he wanted and we couldn't have stopped him. Maybe Olivia has exaggerated how evil he was so we'd be on her side in all this.”

“Maybe he really only wants to connect with her.” I started the car. “Although I really believe Olivia felt that there was a threat or she wouldn't have gone off on her own to have Dorothy in the first place. I can't imagine she wanted to leave Drago, as exciting and fascinating as everyone seems to feel he is. But if he's telling the truth, and she's his only child, that could make someone different. Or maybe he's not as evil as Olivia thought he was.”

“Or he's mellowed,” she said. “Either way, it's not like she ever said he wasn't charming.”

“That's true. But all we can do is keep an eye on Dorothy and see what happens. She's an adult, and all this was started a long time ago. Olivia made her choice when she and Drago made a child.”

“And now those roosters have come home to roost.”

I dropped Elsie off at her home. She waved as I pulled away. Traffic was light in Wilmington. Storms were moving in from the Atlantic. I'd felt them coming a few days before the weatherman mentioned it, and so did Elsie, Brian and Dorothy—as well as every other witch. They'd been coming to Smuggler's Arcane for protection candles and other storm-related magic paraphernalia. We were as ready for what was coming as possible.

My son, Mike, was home on a break from East Carolina University, which meant a ton of laundry and other problems that had come up while he'd been gone. His cell phone had died, and my husband, Joe, had taken him to get another. Mike had slept the whole first day he'd been back and then
had eaten two pizzas by himself. In between he'd talked about a girl he was dating at school—nothing serious, he assured us, just wanted us to know.

Joe and Mike were still out. I didn't mind. It would be good to have some time to myself to decompress. Life had been crazy the last week or two. I decided to take a nice pomegranate bath and lie back with a cucumber face mask on for a while. I needed a little tinting on my brown hair. Maybe some blond highlights? Those would look good with my dark blue eyes. I was no beauty, but I tried to keep up with my appearance.

My key was barely in the lock when my familiar, Isabelle, let me know that we weren't alone. She was a large, gray long-haired cat who held the spirit of a witch who'd been burned at the stake in the 1300s. She was very protective, waiting at the door for me as I opened it.

“What's wrong?” I could feel her distress as I put my handbag on the counter. “Who's here?”

Before Isabelle could answer, my niece, Sunshine Merryweather, stepped forward. Her visit was a surprise, since I'd just seen her in Norfolk, Virginia, before I went to pick up Mike from school.

“Sorry to drop in on you this way, Aunt Molly,” she apologized. “But some things have happened at home that I need your help with.”

BOOK: Putting on the Witch
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