Careful What You Witch For by Amanda M. Lee

Author:Amanda M. Lee [Lee, Amanda M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, Romance, Paranormal, Mystery, Ghost, Supernatural, Thriller, Witch, Wizard, Humor
Amazon: B00S0H9OYI
Publisher: WinchesterShaw Publications
Published: 2015-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Six

“Who is it?” I asked.

“The devil,” Thistle replied.

“Is it a murderer?” I was rooted to my spot. I kept telling myself, if someone jumped out of the bushes and stabbed Bay or Thistle, I was in the best position to get help. That would be my bravery for the day. I would be the one to get help.

“Get up,” Thistle said, reaching down into the bushes.

“Get your hands off me!”

I froze when I heard the voice. It really was the devil. “Aunt Tillie?”

Thistle and Bay hauled a familiar figure up, forcing her to a standing position. Aunt Tillie jerked her head from left to right. “You’re both on my list.”

“What are you doing here?” Bay asked.

“It’s a free country,” Aunt Tillie sniffed, brushing the knees of her pants off haphazardly. “I have a right to take a walk wherever I want.”

“You were out for a walk?” Bay asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I needed some exercise,” Aunt Tillie said. “I think I might need my hip replaced, so I have to walk it off to make sure I don’t need surgery.”

“You don’t walk off a hip replacement,” Thistle said, exasperated.

“Oh, are you a doctor now?” Aunt Tillie challenged.

“No,” Thistle said. “I just happen to know that when you need a hip replacement, you can’t just walk it off.”

“Says who?” Aunt Tillie wasn’t budging from her lie.

“Says everyone,” Thistle screeched, flapping her arms for emphasis.

Aunt Tillie arched a salt-and-pepper eyebrow. “Do you know everyone?”

“I can’t,” Thistle said, stalking away. “I just … .”

This was going to get out of control if I didn’t put a stop to it. “Is your hip okay now?”

“It feels much better,” Aunt Tillie said. “I think it’s cured.”

“Good,” Bay said. “Tell us what you were really doing here.”

“I already told you,” Aunt Tillie said. “I was curing my hip ailment.”

“No, you were here to do something awful,” Thistle said, scanning the area. “What? Magical gophers? Charmed bugs? Deranged snakes? What did you bring here?”

“I don’t think I like your tone,” Aunt Tillie warned, extending a finger in Thistle’s direction.

“Just tell us what you did,” Bay pleaded, joining Thistle in her underbrush search. “We won’t tell anyone what you did. Just … tell us what you brought out here, because we know you brought something.”

“I can’t believe my own flesh and blood would accuse me of being a liar,” Aunt Tillie said. “It’s enough to break an old woman’s heart.”

Aunt Tillie only refers to herself as “old” when she’s trying to get away with something. If someone else uses the word when describing her, she’ll shrivel whatever part of their anatomy strikes her fancy.

“We’re not accusing you of anything,” I said. “We’re just … . Things are already tense enough.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

I couldn’t tell if Aunt Tillie was genuinely interested, or if she was just looking for an out. “We accidentally drew a ghost here during a fake séance last night.”

Aunt Tillie made a face. “Why were you having a fake séance?”

“Because Dad wanted to impress the guests,” I said.

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