One Witch's Trash Panda Is Another Witch's Treasure by Annabel Chase

Author:Annabel Chase [Chase, Annabel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Palm Press LLC
Published: 2018-04-23T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Sunday dinners at Thornhold were sacrosanct. Aunt Hyacinth expected the entire Rose-Muldoon brood in attendance, barring any life-threatening situation. Even then, she’d probably expect you to be wheeled in on a gurney. Since Marley and I lived in the cottage on the grounds of the estate, we couldn’t easily avoid the weekly event. Not that I minded, really. It was the one meal of the week my picky daughter was sure to plow through. Aunt Hyacinth had a knack for choosing the right meals.

“So tell us about this familiar of yours,” Florian said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He knew perfectly well this was a subject that would rankle his mother.

I tried to kick him under the table, but I missed his leg and hit the chair leg instead. I swallowed my cry of pain.

“His name is Raoul,” Marley said, oblivious to the family politics at play. “He’s a raccoon. Can you believe it? We’re so lucky. Not everybody gets to have a psychic connection to a raccoon.”

“No,” Aunt Hyacinth said tersely. “Indeed.” She sliced her meat like she was dissecting a corpse. Probably my corpse. “I can’t help but wonder what your familiar will be next year, Marley.”

Marley’s eyes shone with excitement. “I love cats, so I wouldn’t mind at all to have a cat, but wouldn’t a horse be amazing?”

Aunt Hyacinth nearly choked on her drink. “No witch in the Silver Moon coven has ever had a horse as a familiar.”

Marley continued to shovel down food. “What about a raccoon? If no one’s ever had one of those before, then maybe it’s possible for me to get a horse.”

“There is no advantage to being different,” Aunt Hyacinth said in a clipped tone.

“Then why do we make a big deal about being descendants of the One True Witch?” Marley asked. “That makes us different from the rest of the coven.”

Bless her heart. She was too smart for her own good.

“Cats are just easier,” Aster said. “Horses can’t live in the house with you. It’s harder to form a lasting bond.”

“Is it true your familiar is a criminal?” Hudson asked. Hudson was Linnea and Wyatt’s teenaged son.

I took a long sip of my cocktail. “He has a past, apparently.” I glanced at my aunt. “But now he knows he has a purpose. It makes all the difference.”

“Uncle Wyatt said he stole treasure from the Whitethorn,” Bryn said. She was Hudson’s older sister, and sensible like Marley. Because they inherited their father’s werewolf gene instead of Linnea’s witch gene, they were a source of disappointment to Hyacinth.

“Raoul did not steal from the Whitethorn,” I insisted. “I’m working on clearing his name.”

“Can he comes to dinners?” Aspen asked. He and Ackley were Aster’s young sons.

“Absolutely not,” Aunt Hyacinth snapped.

“Why not?” Aspen queried. “Precious is always here.” Sometimes Precious even drank from a goblet on the table.

“Because it’s a raccoon,” my aunt practically sputtered. “They carry disease.”

“First of all, Raoul is a ‘he,’ not an ‘it,’” I said. “Second of all, he does not carry diseases.

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