Thrown to the Werewolves (A Wildwood Witch Mystery Book 5) by Elle Adams

Author:Elle Adams [Adams, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

9

Using my sceptre to sneakily cast spells on my aunt’s property was not behaviour becoming of a Head Witch, I knew, and while Mum always said that my job was twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and that I was still Head Witch even when asleep, that didn’t mean I had to act the part all the time.

Besides, wasn’t it also my job to detect any potential sabotage in the flower contest? Aunt Shannon might have claimed to have the mayor’s permission to set up her tent, but for all I knew, she’d picked its location precisely because it was right next to the contest.

As we walked through the garden, Tansy tried to climb the fence separating my mother’s house from Aunt Shannon’s and instantly slid off again. The fence had been enhanced with a ward. That was new.

“She’s not taking any chances, then,” I remarked. “Interesting. I wonder if she left her flowers unsupervised while she’s setting up her tent.”

I had zero interest in messing with my aunt’s garden, but I couldn’t suppress a twinge of curiosity as to what had so occupied her attention that she’d willingly left her precious contest entries out of her sight on the eve of the event.

Also, let’s face it—I was willing to seize on any possible evidence that my aunt might have left out in the open that might spare her daughter from a jail sentence.

Tansy and I kept our eyes open for signs of anyone in the garden—or in the sky—as we walked alongside the fence. I wasn’t quite tall enough to see over it, and no matter which spot Tansy picked to climb, she simply slid straight back down to earth.

“I saw the magpie.” Shedding bits of cut grass from her fur, she scampered back to my side. “Myrtle’s guarding the greenhouse.”

“Makes sense that she wouldn’t leave her plants unattended.” I gave up on the idea of going into her garden and house to search for evidence, though it’d been a long shot. If she’d once had the thorn-killer toxin, it would be long gone by now. As for how she’d obtained it? If Grandma had been right when she’d claimed that it was expensive to buy and tricky to brew—except allegedly for the Henbane Coven—then I was out of ideas.

Tansy and I followed the fence until we came to the back gate, which opened onto the woodland path. On my right stood the identical back gate to Aunt Shannon’s house, which I tried to peer over, but the overgrown part of the back garden masked my view of anything else except the house. It certainly didn’t look as if anyone had applied any plant-killing toxins, but she’d know better than to test them on her own garden.

“Be careful,” I warned Tansy when she tried to climb the gate and promptly tumbled off. At least my aunt hadn’t attached any sticky traps this time around, but it looked as if she’d covered her entire property in the same repelling charms that she’d used on her tent.

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