Witch Myth Omnibus: A Yew Hollow Cozy Mystery by Alexandria Clarke

Author:Alexandria Clarke [Clarke, Alexandria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2016-09-25T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

In Which I Make a Possibly Regrettable Deal

In my world, Dorothy Summers was essentially a goddess. From day one, every child born into the Summers coven was thoroughly educated on our illustrious history. My elementary studies of arithmetic and language arts were supplemented with the biographies of the five women who created and shaped Yew Hollow for what it was today. Mary Summers, the coven’s earliest leader, and her four daughters—Ann, Elizabeth, Bridget, and Dorothy—were the roots of my heritage, and though I had once tried to reject the sorority I had been born into, I never lost the immense amount of respect for the original Summers women that had been fostered in me since birth. To come face to face with any one of them was beyond surreal. Yet here I was, my hand clasped tightly between both of Dorothy’s as if we had known each other personally all along.

My father, on the other hand, did not seem to hold Dorothy in such high regard. As I blathered on to Dorothy about what an immense pleasure it was to meet her, my father shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with the interaction before him. Dorothy seemed to recognize this, because she withdrew her hand from my grasp and turned to face my father.

“Calvin,” she greeted him, smiling cordially.

“Dorothy.”

“Wait a second,” I said, stepping between the opposite sides of my genealogy. “The two of you know each other?”

“Lamentably,” my father said as he eyed Dorothy’s serene expression. He reached out and pulled me closer to his side, as though he expected Dorothy to inexplicably combust and shower me with burning sparks.

“Now, Calvin,” Dorothy said, her palms turned upward in a gesture of innocence. “I thought we’d put all of our disagreements behind us.”

“Disagreements?” I echoed. I detached myself from my father, unwilling to align with either party until I understood the specifics of their argument. “What kind of disagreements?”

My father’s chin lifted upward, though his eyes remained locked on Dorothy. “Don’t,” he warned her.

Dorothy’s tranquility was unaffected by my father’s command. “Oh, Calvin,” she said. “She’ll find out eventually.”

“Find what out?” I demanded, my glare bouncing between the two of them.

Dorothy sighed, as if resigning herself to answer my question. “Morgan, my dear—”

Dorothy, I swear…” Calvin cut in.

“Hush, you,” Dorothy commanded, pointing a finger at my father.

His voice cut off immediately, silenced by whatever spell Dorothy had so neatly employed. He gestured angrily at her, mouthing unintelligible commands. A surge of relief coursed through me as I realized that witchcraft was still viable in the otherworld. It would undoubtedly come in handy what with all of the supposed monsters down here. I mentally reviewed the process for creating a protection ward. Generally, I preferred offense over defense, but I wasn’t about to risk strutting about the otherworld without a basic level of security. For now, though, secrets were at hand.

“Tell me,” I urged Dorothy before my father could protest further.

“It’s nothing, really,” she said with a breezy wave of her hand.

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