Spelldriver Read online

  Spelldriver

  Magic & Mixology Mystery Series, Volume 6

  Gina LaManna

  Published by LaManna Books, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  SPELLDRIVER

  First edition. February 26, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Gina LaManna.

  Written by Gina LaManna.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Spelldriver (Magic & Mixology Mystery Series, #6)

  Synopsis

  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

  EPILOGUE

  Author’s Note

  To my husband, family, and friends. :)

  Special Thanks:

  To Alex—For feeding me breakfasts and coffees while I raced to finish these edits! я тебя люблю!

  To my family: Mom, Dad, Kristi, and Megan—for already spoiling the newest member of the LaManna family!

  To Rissa Pierce—For your support from the very beginning, especially on this series!

  To Stacia—For all the detailed spreadsheets and intricate notes that make this series possible.

  To Janice—For inspiring The Quilter’s special talents.

  To Christine—For inspiring The Quilter’s name.

  To my friends, especially all of LaManna’s Ladies, thank you for a wonderful 2018 and start to 2019!

  Synopsis

  With a wedding on the horizon and her father tucked safely away in prison, the future is looking bright for Lily Locke. Unfortunately, life on The Isle is never calm for long... and when a Ranger is killed brutally in plain sight, Lily and her fiancé—the renowned Ranger X—find themselves hunting a murderer more ruthless than any they’ve ever encountered before.

  However, unraveling the killer’s intricate plot isn’t Lily’s only problem. She has a cousin who is nowhere to be found. A dangerous hunter has escaped from prison. Ranger X is all but obsessed with his latest case, and Lily worries it’s consuming him entirely.

  Despite it all, Lily must make a decision that will affect not only her life, but the life of the man she loves more than anything else—and once it’s done, there’s no turning back...

  Chapter 1

  “Don’t peek!”

  I kept my eyes closed tightly and faced the general direction of the woman’s voice. “How am I supposed to decide on a dress if I can’t see it?”

  “I said don’t look!” Wanda snapped. “This is my job, and I’m good at it. If I wasn’t, would anyone purchase wedding dresses from Wanda’s Weddings?”

  “Probably not.”

  Wanda sniffed as if her point had been cemented. She maneuvered behind me and adjusted the newest dress in ways that had me wincing as she pinched my sides, tweaked at my stomach, and yanked at my arms. The light hum of fairy wings intensified.

  “Are you sure the fairies don’t need a break?” I asked as one of them gasped for air. “They’ve been fluttering for quite some time.”

  “They’re tough,” Wanda said. “They trained with Glinda. Working at Wanda’s Weddings is a walk in the park.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed her. The four tiny creatures assisting Wanda were all retired Forest Fairies from Glinda’s small army, and most of them were wheezing as they tilted veils and plucked at sleeves and straightened trains until Wanda clucked with perfection.

  At least, I imagined she would cluck when perfection occurred. At this point, finding the perfect dress felt like a pipe dream. I had a better chance of getting Ranger X in a dress than I did of finding one that Wanda approved of for my body type, whatever that meant.

  “Okay, fine,” Wanda said with a dramatic sigh. “You may now open your eyes.”

  I opened my eyes and found four forced smiles glowing back at me.

  “That’s, ah...” Mimsey said with a cough.

  “Exactly!” Poppy chirped. “It’s very...”

  Zin scrunched her nose. “Interesting?”

  “It’s awful,” Trinket said finally. “It looks like you dressed up as a marshmallow for Halloween. After it was destroyed by a fire.”

  “Gee whiz,” I said. “You all paint such a beautiful picture.”

  “Turn,” Wanda said, completely undeterred. “I think it’s a work of art, but they might have a point. The dress sort of swallows you whole.”

  I spun to face the mirror and was unable to keep my eyebrows at a normal height. They seemed intent on creeping higher and higher until they just about disappeared into my hairline.

  The dress was definitely interesting. It puffed out in all directions with a skirt that didn’t just swallow me, it devoured me. It flounced up so high my face was barely visible above layers on layers of chiffon. An added cathedral-style veil—currently supported by heavily perspiring fairies—had me feeling like I was a forgotten balloon, floating in a lonely journey across the skies.

  “You would definitely stand out,” Wanda said. “It would be the talking piece of the ceremony.”

  “Because she looks like someone plugged her into a Lite Brite,” Trinket mumbled. “Is she glowing?”

  “Those are the newest beads to hit Wanda’s wedding dresses,” Wanda said happily. “We captured lightning bugs and bottled their essence. Then we infused them into the beads—”

  “And vomited them onto a dress?” Zin murmured.

  “The beaded pattern is very intricate,” Wanda said. “Lily will be glowing from here to the mainland.”

  “In other news,” Mimsey said, tapping a finger against her lip. “We might need to hand out sunglasses at the ceremony.”

  “I think I’m going to pass on this one,” I said, squinting as an entire row of beads lit up with a vicious burst of light. “It’s not good to blind the guests.”

  Wanda heaved another breath that made it sound as if the world was ending. “I’ll pull another from the racks. Give me a moment. While I’m in the back, why don’t you sit in this dress and get a feel for it? You might be surprised to find it’s growing on you.”

  “It’s definitely growing all right,” Mimsey said as Wanda disappeared in a swish of black and white pantsuit. “I can barely see your eyes anymore.”

  I blew hair out of my face, glancing around anxiously to make sure Wanda was truly out of earshot. Wanda, of Wanda’s Weddings, was tall and slender and dressed like a high fashion model from the pages of Vogue. She wore ruby red cat glasses with sparkly red shoes, and her earrings dangled down to her ribs. Her hair was cut short and stylish, and her pantsuit had shoulder pads so large she had to twist her body to make it through the doorway.

  Her shop was just as festive as her attire. Tucked onto Main Street on the eastern side of The Isle, Wanda’s Weddings boasted a cute little storefront in a two-story Victorian. It had turrets and a fresh coat of Painting Potion sprayed onto the outside, but there was no masking the ancient creak of floorboards or the whisper of wedding dresses as they brushed against the breeze coming in through the lopsided front porch.

  Inside the shop was all white fluff and sparkle. Full length mirrors cast sometimes stunning, sometimes horrifying images back at me, while an entire wall of tiaras and veils and glittering je
welry sparkled under the purposefully brightened lights.

  “I agree with Mimsey. That dress is definitely growing on you,” Poppy pointed out. “I mean, it looks like it’s breeding tulle by the minute. Pretty soon I’ll have to throw you a life raft just to keep you from suffocating.”

  I laughed, tried to maneuver into a seated position, and failed. I settled for standing and extended a hand toward one of the fairies holding up my veil. With a grateful wheeze, she alighted on my palm, looked me in the eye, and gave a disheartened shake of her head.

  Over the last few weeks, I’d hemmed and hawed over the idea of a wedding during a season of life as volatile as this one. I’d just learned that my father had survived a battle that should have ended his life, which meant he’d be back for me. Sooner or later, he’d find a way to torment my very existence.

  I’d also learned my mother had been an assassin. A wild shift from the kind, loving stories I’d heard about her. Then again, the file declaring her as such had come from Liam—a man I still wasn’t sure I could trust. After all that had happened over the past few months, some alliances were growing stronger while others had turned precarious.

  Not last, and certainly not least, was the contract between me and my father that still remained intact. In a desperate moment, he’d tricked me into signing an irrevocable magical pact that would grant him custody of my first-born son.

  The very thought of giving up a child, even one that didn’t yet exist, had me panicking whenever the notion crossed my mind. To combat the fear, I’d simply focused on one truth over the last few weeks, adopting it until it became fact. Ranger X and I could never have children. There was no way around the pact, and the truth was, I’d die before giving a child to my father.

  It was the only solution that had presented itself as foolproof. While it hurt to realize X and I would never grow our family beyond two, I’d already spent time grieving and was determined to seal my fate for good. After all, so long as X and I had each other, the rest would work itself out. There was nothing wrong with a family of two.

  “The Isle to Lily,” Wanda said, reappearing quite suddenly at my side. “I’ve got another option for you. Chop-chop.”

  I coughed in surprise. The fairy on my palm leapt to attention, launching into flight at the return of her boss and winging around drunkenly until she plowed straight into my hair. As I fished the fairy out, I glanced at Wanda and the dress draped over her arms while the fairy made herself comfortable lounging across my cleavage.

  “This one has a very real-looking mermaid’s tail. With a hint of magic,” Wanda drawled, “it will move and twitch as you walk. And if you get into water, it will be enchanted to work in a very realistic way.”

  “Excuse me?” Poppy raised a hand. “Why would Lily be getting into the water on her wedding day? In her wedding dress?”

  “Why do fish fly?” Wanda asked. “I don’t know, but I am prepared for every scenario. Now, fairies—unzip, unbutton, undress.”

  I yelped as the fairies set to work unzipping, unbuttoning, and undressing. I could’ve sworn they also pinched, prodded, and poked me as they worked, showing their displeasure with my lack of decisiveness. Then again, it wasn’t entirely my fault that I hadn’t chosen a dress yet. I didn’t want to look like a marshmallow or a drowning mermaid on my wedding day, and those seemed to be the extent of my options thus far.

  Indeed, the next dress proved to be quite scaly. It itched on the inside and shimmered on the outside, and it was next to impossible to remain standing while wearing it. To go along with the whole mermaid design was a corset that knitted so tightly up my back I felt lunch from last Tuesday working itself back into my esophagus. Not to mention the fact that the entire top half of the dress was designed to look like a set of seashells.

  “I think I’ll pass,” I said. “Maybe we should take a break and—”

  “Nonsense,” Wanda said. “The mermaid scaling is made from the finest artisan designers in the country, and... Lily? Where are you going?”

  I teetered, tottered, and tipped backward thanks to a tail that flapped all on its own. Only Zin’s quick reaction time kept me upright.

  I forced a smile at Wanda. “What were you saying?”

  She blew air out of her nose so fast it whistled. “I’ll find another option.”

  The fairies set back to work stripping me to my underpants. I’d learned that modesty didn’t exist when it came to Wanda’s Weddings.

  Just then, the door to the shop opened, and I dove for the dressing room, greedily grabbing for my clothes in case the incomer was a stranger, or a male, or really any person at all.

  “Lily?” a soft voice called out. “Don’t worry. It’s me.”

  I poked my head out from behind the door, clutching the fabric of my sundress in front of my body like a shield. “Who is it?”

  “The Quilter.”

  The answer came swift and sure, so confident that it gave me pause as I scanned the woman who’d entered the store. She had a certain timelessness to her features, despite the fact that her hair was frizzled and gray. Her eyes crinkled happily, accentuated by violet eyeliner, as she studied my face with an expression of pure joy. She wore a knitted dress with thick straps that floated down toward her knees and looked entirely too warm to be worn in a tropical climate.

  “Oh, don’t worry about me. There’s a nice breeze,” the woman said, moving her knees so her dress swished. “It’s like a tank top sweater with ventilation. I made it myself.”

  The peculiar woman wore a floral scarf around her head that did only a partially decent job of holding her hair back. The rest of it frizzed out around her head in an uncombable looking halo. Even more curious, however, was that she appeared to know me. I was most confident I’d never seen her before.

  “Sorry, and you are?”

  “The Quilter,” she said again, as if it were a regal title to be used like king or queen. “I’ve come with your package.”

  “What package?” I asked. “Sorry, but I don’t think I—er, ordered anything.”

  She laughed, the sound light and tinkling. “Nobody orders from me, darling. The orders fulfill themselves. I sensed you might need this.”

  For the first time, my eyes were drawn away from the woman herself and toward the parcel she hugged to her chest.

  “It seems you might need a bit of clarity,” she said carefully, her eyes twinkling. “In addition to something warm. Nobody likes to prance around naked. Unless the breeze is warm and the moon is full. Then I quite enjoy it.”

  “I agree,” Mimsey said. “It’s not a lot of fun dancing naked when the breeze is chilly.”

  “Mom!” Poppy said. “Stop.”

  “It’s quite liberating, actually,” The Quilter said. “You should try it sometime.”

  After an uncomfortable pause, Poppy glanced over toward her mother. “Tell me you and Gus don’t go prancing around in the buff together. If you do, I’ll need a schedule of your activities so I can stay away from fields and prairies during the full moon.”

  “Of course I don’t do that with Gus.” Mimsey’s cheeks flushed pink. “It’s a female thing.”

  “It’s a witch thing,” Zin muttered. “Yet again, I’m glad I’m not a witch.”

  “I’d rather be a blood intolerant vampire than have to bang a drum around a fire in the nude,” Poppy said. “The gastrointestinal distress is well worth it.”

  “I’m a witch,” I pointed out, “and I don’t bang drums in the nude.”

  “Give it time.” Mimsey patted my shoulder. “You’ll come around.”

  The Quilter kept a quirky smile on her face throughout the whole exchange, moving closer to me as the conversation grew louder. In offering, she extended the parcel once more. “It’s yours.”

  “But...” I hesitated, saw sheer determination in her eyes, and accepted the package. “Thanks.”

  “Go on, open it,” Poppy said. “I love presents!”

  I glanced at The Quilter, who gave
a gentle nod, a soft smile creasing her eyes into a permanent sense of contentment. Taking that as permission to open the package, I untied the thick velvet ribbon that kept the brown paper secured shut.

  As the wrappings fell away, I found a blanket in soft browns and greens spilling onto my arms. The earthen-toned blanket was heavy, smooth against the skin. It felt like butter as I wrapped it around my shoulders.

  “You made this?” I gaped. The blanket was large and fell to my feet. If I cinched it around my chest, it was long enough to be a dress. “It’s incredible. Thank you. But how did you know I’d need it?”

  “Goes with the territory,” she said, humming a little ditty. “I’m pleased you like it, but then again, I knew you would.”

  “Are you psychic?” Poppy asked. “What are you?”

  “Does it matter?” The Quilter asked lightly. “Let’s just say... I know things. Like when people need guidance in the right direction. My blankets are woven with bits of spells and a taste of magic.”

  “Where can I get one?” Poppy stepped forward, her eyes glued to the blanket as she reached a hand forward and ran the comforting fabrics beneath her fingers. “These would make excellent gifts.”

  “Gifts. That’s all I ever give,” she said demurely. “There’s no option for special orders or purchases. Well, it’s time for me to go. Enjoy, Lily. I hope it brings you the clarity you seek.”

  Before I could thank her again, the bell was tinkling at the front of the shop and the door was swooping shut behind The Quilter’s chunky sweater dress. Through the full-length windows spanning the front of the shop, I watched her frizzy hair bounce down the porch.

  “Peculiar,” I said. “Have you guys seen her before?”

  Zin, Mimsey, and Poppy all shook their heads. Trinket, however, stilled.

  “Trinket?”

  “I know of her.” Trinket didn’t bother to turn around from the rack of discount wedding dresses she’d been examining.