Addicted Witch by Willow Monroe

Author:Willow Monroe [Monroe, Willow]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: witch mystery series, cozy mystery, cozy witch mystery, witches and magic, murder mystery suspense cozy fiction
Goodreads: 29922107
Publisher: Pinwheel Books
Published: 2016-04-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

I feel my knees starting to give way and reach for Angelo. He’s not paying attention, but he feels me grab his coat and turns just in time to keep me from tumbling down the stairs. My vision is blurry, but my mind is racing hard. This has to be a mistake - I misheard, or my mind is playing tricks on me.

“Angelo?” I ask, completely bewildered. I can’t focus - on his face, or the voices. Nothing. He kneels in front of me on the stairs and looks at me closely. Then he checks my forehead for a fever, until I swat his hand away.

“Hmm?” he answers quietly. “Trinket? What happened? Are you all right?”

“I’m not sure, but I think...”

Before I can answer, the voices start up again. The male voice says, “I wish we could go check out the island, instead of being stuck here. This sucks.”

“Me, too,” the female voice answers, and I suck in my breath. Do I really recognize that voice, or is it my imagination?

It has to be my imagination, because the person I think it belongs to cannot possibly be here.

“Angelo? Does that sound like Tawny to you?” I whisper.

It’s his turn to look bewildered. “Who?”

“Tawny...My neighbor? The cute little redhead that liked your butt back in Raleigh? When we first met?”

He still looks blank.

“The one who let you into my apartment?”

His dark eyes clear, then go round. “Oh. Oh...no way. She can’t be here - it’s impossible.”

My exact thought. Impossible.

I have to be wrong.

Before I can say anything else, a sound reaches us from the bottom of the stairs. We both turn and look down the long expanse to see a blond boy standing there, his pose defensive, fists up. Angelo says, “Penley,” and stands up.

Then Penley is gone.

Angelo thumps down the stairs after him before I can even get to my feet. The banister is slick with my own clammy hands, so I’m more careful. I go after them, but then stop halfway down the staircase and look back toward the upper floor.

Tawny is still up there, if my guess is right.

I suddenly miss her badly. The first few months we were here, I missed her, thought about what a kick she’d get out of this place, but then those feelings eventually faded as I settled into my new home. Now, they came back with a rush, but also with a warning: the voice I heard might not even be Tawny.

In fact, the odds are very good that I’m completely mistaken. How could she possibly get here? Or why, even? Even if she stumbled onto a supernatural portal somehow, who would just come on through it, like they were going on vacation or something?

I smile at that, because of all the people I know, Tawny would. Her sense of adventure and positive nature always did push her to the edge of crazy, and what was crazier than this?

I turn and head back up the stairs. If there is any chance that the voice I heard was hers.

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