All My Witches (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Book 5)

Thistle nodded without hesitation. “I didn’t just speak. I uttered my first counter-curse. It was a powerful one, and that’s how Aunt Tillie knew she’d met her match. I was a prodigy.”

She was completely full of crap. Her first word had been “cookie” and I remembered very well because she was so delayed compared to Clove and me that everyone started clapping when she finally spit out the word. Twila (her mother) had been worried that Thistle was developmentally delayed, but it turned out she was simply lazy.

“I guess that’s why you and Aunt Tillie have never gotten along,” I drawled. “She’s afraid of you because you’re a prodigy.”

“Exactly.”

“Uh-huh.” I pursed my lips. “You realize that I recognize you’re full of crap, right?”

Thistle scorched me with a look. “Don’t make me force you to eat dirt.”

“There’s too much snow outside to find dirt.”

“Oh, I’ll make an exception.”

“Because you’re a prodigy.”

Thistle extended a warning finger. “If you keep this up, you’ll be dead to me for the rest of the night.”

“Why is that a concern? It’s hardly the first time.”

“Yes, but you need me,” Thistle supplied. “You need me to help you plot against Aunt Tillie. I heard you whining when I got here. You want to mess with that old bat, but you need help doing it.”

She wasn’t wrong, still … . “What did you have in mind?”

This time the look that crossed Thistle’s face was diabolical. “I’m so happy you asked.”

Uh-oh. I’d clearly woken the beast. I tilted my head to the side, debating whether or not I cared that she was probably going to take things too far during our revenge plot. Ultimately I couldn’t work myself up even a little at the prospect.

“What have you got in mind?”

“You’re going to love this.”

She was right. I loved it.





How awesome would it be to be able to send your kids up to the attic for five years and have them pop out as fully-functioning adults? That’s how it works on soaps, and I think it sounds heavenly.

– Marnie after being stuck babysitting the girls for an entire weekend





Two





It turned out that Thistle’s plan wasn’t genius as much as it was immature. Still, I was bored and worried about Landon being stuck on the frightening roads, so I agreed to help. By the time we were done, Thistle cast a spell that made Aunt Tillie feel as if there were ants in her pants – and infesting her chair. We were left with nothing better to do than to wait for Aunt Tillie to react and then ultimately slap back.

In the meantime, our other cousin Clove and her boyfriend Sam arrived. They looked a little worse for wear.

“We ended up in the ditch,” Clove announced as she warmed her hands by the roaring fire in the dining room. “It’s like Armageddon out there.”

The simple statement caused my anxiety to escalate. “How did you get out?”

“I towed them out,” Chief Terry announced as he strolled in the room. “I had my truck and a chain. We got lucky that they hadn’t been in there more than a few minutes.”

“I didn’t even know you were here,” I said, flashing a warm smile. Chief Terry was one of my favorite people – I even preferred him to most of my family members at times – and he would make a nice distraction while I tried not to obsess about the weather. “I’m glad you were there to save Clove and Sam.”

“That makes two of us,” Sam said, sitting at the table and pouring a mug of coffee. “I hate snow. Did I mention I hate snow?”

“That makes northern Lower Michigan a fabulous place for you to live,” Thistle drawled, wrinkling her nose as she checked her phone. “Marcus is on his way.” She flicked her eyes to her mother. “We’ll need to stay here. I told you that, right? Our furnace is out.”

Twila, who was all aflutter thanks to Chief Terry’s presence, smiled. “It will be nice to have you with us tonight. We’ve missed seeing you as much as we used to.” Her expression was fond as she touched Thistle’s hair. “It will give us a chance to talk about what a stupid idea it was to dye your hair multiple colors.”

Thistle scowled. “Oh, geez. I walked right into that one.”

“You certainly did,” Clove agreed, plopping herself on the floor and pushing her stocking-clad feet toward the fire. “I think we’ll have to stay here, too. How many rooms do you have open?”

Clove’s mother, Marnie, answered. “They’re all open. Thankfully this happened early in the week. We have guests arriving Wednesday, but the roads should be cleared before then.”

“Yes, we can be snowed in two full days together,” Twila added enthusiastically.

Thistle’s face at the suggestion was nothing short of hilarious. “That’s a terrifying thought, isn’t it?” She cast me a dubious look. “Still, you should stay here tonight, too. If we’re all stuck … it will be more fun if we’re together.”

“Oh, yay!” Clove clapped her hands. “I like that idea.”

“You only like that idea because you want me to suffer as much as you guys,” I groused. “It’s not as if you want to spend that much time with your mothers.”

“I heard that,” Marnie warned. “Don’t make me call your mother to deal with you.”

“Where is my mother?” I craned my neck and stared through the opening that led to the lobby. “I haven’t seen her in a bit. She took off because we were plotting against Aunt Tillie and I haven’t seen her since.”

“She’s at the front desk balancing the books,” Twila replied. “She always does that when she feels like the inn is closing in on her. That’s her way of getting away from it all.”

“It’s only going to get worse when we start drinking,” Thistle noted. “If she thinks this place feels small now, she hasn’t seen anything yet.”

“Good point.” Marnie grinned as she poured Clove a mug of coffee and delivered it to her in front of the fire. “Still, I think it would be fun if everyone stayed here tonight. We have a big dinner planned and we can add a big breakfast.” She offered up a saucy wink for Chief Terry’s benefit. “That goes for you, too, Terry.”

Even though he was often uncomfortable given the sustained interest from my mother and aunts – they were all vying for his attention – I had significant doubt that he would know what to do with any of them if one managed to land him. Of course, several weeks ago I pressed him on the issue and told him it was okay to make a choice. I was still waiting for him to select.

“I’d love to stay,” Chief Terry said, taking me by surprise. “I don’t think I have much of a choice. Getting back to town will be perilous. I hope people have the good sense to stay off the roads tonight.”

That was about all I could take. I hopped to my feet. “I need to call Landon,” I announced. “Maybe he can find a hotel close to wherever he’s at. He shouldn’t keep trying to get here. It’s too far.”

Chief Terry’s expression softened. “You’re worried. I should’ve realized that. Bay, Landon will be fine. He knows what he’s doing.”

“You just said that people shouldn’t be on the roads.”

“I didn’t mean him.”

“But … .”

“Bay, he’ll be fine.” Chief Terry rested his big hand on my shoulder. “Don’t get yourself in a tizzy.”

“He’s right,” Thistle said pragmatically. “Do you see me freaking out because Marcus is still out there? No, because I have faith he knows what he’s doing and that everything will be fine. You should try looking on the bright side of things.”

I stared at her, convinced a second head was about to sprout. “Who are you and what have you done with my pessimistic cousin?”

“Ha, ha.” Thistle rolled her eyes, snapping her head in the direction of the door when the sound of stomping footsteps filled the room.

I jerked my head in that direction and couldn’t stop the disappointed roll of my stomach when I caught sight of Marcus. His shoulder-length hair was covered in snow, his cheeks flushed from the chill, and the look he shot Thistle was one of surprised pleasure when she launched herself at him.

“What’s this?”

Amanda M. Lee's books