Bewitching Bedlam (Bewitching Bedlam #1)

Andy’s daughter, Beth, was behind the counter when I opened the door. At the jangling of bells, she glanced up from her computer screen.

“Hey, Maddy. What brings you to town on a morning like this?” Her frown of concentration vanished, replaced by a wide smile. The girl was pretty enough, but more than that—she had the nature of a healer and just standing near her made anybody feel better.

I jammed my hands in my pockets. I’d forgotten my gloves in the car and just the short jaunt from the curb to the shop had left me chilled.

“I need some of Andy’s elixir, along with some other spell components.”

“One bottle or two?” She turned to the shelf behind her, to a row of bottles with old-fashioned labels affixed to them. They were reminiscent of tonic bottles from the early twentieth century.

“Might as well take two.”

“Two it is.” She pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Now, what else can I get you?”

“I also need an ounce each of Muddle leaf, gooseberry root, sassafras grass, chopped valerian, coltsfoot, and two ounces of comfrey leaf. Two pounds of Dead Sea salt, a packet of graveyard dust, and a bottle of War water.” I glanced at my list. “Oh, and if you still sell those incredible chocolate thunder bars, I want three.”

Not only did Andy make the best elixir, he also made one of the best chocolate bars I had ever eaten. Nobody could say the man wasn’t talented with mixing things. He was one of the best alchemists in Bedlam, and he was one of the few humans. His daughter showed similar talents, even though she was only in her thirties.

As Beth bustled around the shop gathering my purchases, I took a seat in the small reading nook next to the window. Various magazines were scattered on the table—Dazzle, Star-Crossed, SpellCaster’s Monthly, and The Otherkin Gazette. The daily Bedlam Crier was on the table, too, and I picked it up to glance through the news. There wasn’t much—Bedlam was a fairly quiet community as far as sensationalism went, but I noticed a prominent ad for the Heart’s Desire Inn on the third page. Ralph and his brothers weren’t sparing any expense, it seemed.

“Here you go.” Beth finished weighing out my herbs and slid the plastic bags into a paper one. “I put the tonic in a separate bag to avoid any possibility of getting your herbs wet.”

I fit my credit card into the chip reader and waited, then entered my PIN when it prompted me. “Thanks, Beth. I have some shopping for the Solstice to do. Merry Yule, in case I don’t see you before then.”

She handed me my bags and receipt. “Blessed Yule to you, also. Don’t leave that Muddle leaf around where it can be confused for oregano, or you’ll have a few weeks of trying to sort out all the confusion.”

I locked the bags in the car, then walked the half block to Art World, where I hunted through the prints until I found a copy of “Woman, Reading.” It was an Impressionist-inspired painting by a relatively unknown artist of a woman wandering through a meadow, a book in her hand. Franny had seen it in a catalog I had been looking through and had loved it. While I drew the line at painting the kitchen pink, I decided I could give her this for Yule and maybe bring a little joy into her life. While the clerk was wrapping up the print for me, I flipped through another stack.

I was mulling over a painting of a rose garden when my phone beeped at me. Pulling it out, I saw a text had come in from a number I didn’t recognize. Frowning, I opened it to see a picture that stopped me cold.

“What the hell?”

“Excuse me?” The gallery clerk looked over at me from where she was wrapping my painting.

“Nothing,” I murmured, turning away and looking at the text again. The text was a photo of a painting, that much was obvious. And the painting was of Aegis, his arm around a striking blonde. They were holding goblets of blood, raised as if to toast the artist.

I caught my breath. Who had painted this? And who had sent it to me? I thought about asking the clerk but decided that wasn’t the wisest idea. I started to text back who are you? why did you send me this? then stopped.

The representative smiled at me. “Will this be all?”

My heart in my throat, I nodded. “Yeah, please ring me up.”

She quickly began tallying up the painting and tax. “All right, here’s your total.”

“Thanks.” I handed him my credit card and then, clutching the print for Franny, headed back outside.

What the hell was a painting of Aegis and a blond woman doing on my phone? And then, I stopped and glanced at the text again. The woman looked very much like the vampire Ralph had described to me. The one who supposedly paid him to swipe my hair.

“Crap.” I didn’t know whether to text the person back or not. Whoever sent it definitely wanted to make sure I saw it, but the phone number had a different area code. That didn’t necessarily mean much, given the way people moved around. My phone still had a Seattle area code. Breathing heavily, I decided to pay a visit to Ralph later in the afternoon to see if he could confirm whether it was the same woman. Or to find out if he had been the one to send the photo to me. I’d avoid texting back until after I talked to Sandy.

Fretting, I moved on to French Pair—a boutique that carried lingerie. Aegis’s favorite color was purple, so I shuffled through the teddies till I found a bustier and cute boy shorts in a rich plum shade. The bustier was jacquard, with a richly embroidered print in black on it. I held it up, trying to assess whether it would fit over my boobs or not. I was more than well endowed and it made some tops a bit problematic.

“Choosing a gift that keeps on giving?” Sandy’s voice rang out behind me. “I saw you through the window so I decided to join you before lunch.”

We had agreed to eat at the Blue Jinn Diner down the street.

I laughed. “I’m trying to. Do you think Aegis will like this?” I turned around, holding up the bustier.

“If he doesn’t, then he’s not the hot-blooded…” She stopped, then laughed. “Let me rephrase that. If he doesn’t, then he’s colder than… Oh fuck it. Yeah, I think he’ll like it.”

I glanced around the rest of the shop, spying a table of microfiber high-legged briefs. “I need some new panties. I love this brand. They’re the most comfortable thing next to going commando.” I sorted through the collection, choosing four pairs of blue, three plum, and two hunter green. I added two pairs of burgundy and three pairs of black panties to the pile. “There, two weeks’ worth.”

Sandy picked up a pair, running her hand over the material. “Nice. No seam lines to dig in.”

“They last for a long time, too. And they don’t fade.” My stomach chose that moment to rumble. “Come on, let me pay for all this and then we’ll go eat. I’ve got something to tell you about but I don’t want to get into it here.”

As I paid for the clothes, my worries came flooding back. “Sandy, do you know a good private investigator?”

She gave me a sharp look. “Why?”

“No reason.” I shrugged. “I may have some questions. Anyway, let’s go. I’ll tell you all about it over lunch. After lunch I was planning on shopping for furniture. If I’m planning on opening the B&B late next week, I have to finish decking the place out and I haven’t a clue what I want at this point.”

Bags in hand, we hurried through the falling snow. The storm had picked up substantially from just thirty minutes ago. “I’ll drive. We’ll swing back to pick up your car after lunch.” I shoved the bags into the back seat with the others and started up the engine.

As we waited for the car to warm up, I pulled out my phone.

“Have you ever seen this picture before? Somebody texted this to me. It’s a painting—but I have no idea who sent it to me.” I held out the phone.

Sandy stared at it, then shook her head. “No, I haven’t. But that’s Aegis. Who’s the woman?”

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