Witchin' Around the Clock Read online

  “You always say that.”

  “This time it’s true.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  One

  Present Day

  “I could’ve lived my entire life without knowing there was such a thing as a mucus plug,” Thistle announced, her blue hair standing on end thanks to the constant swiping of her hands. She looked as if she’d accidentally stuck her finger in a light socket.

  I nodded in agreement as I made a face. Clove sat between us, a pregnancy book — complete with photos — open on her lap. She’d brought the book to work because she needed help dealing with everything inside of it. Thistle didn’t want to have to undergo the ordeal alone, so she’d called me away from The Whistler, the newspaper I own and operate in Hemlock Cove, to help her deal with Clove’s mini-meltdown.

  I was starting to regret picking up the call.

  “Listen to this,” I complained as I took the book from Clove. “A mucus plug accumulates in the cervix during pregnancy and is dislodged right before giving birth. It might be clear or bloody.”

  “Ugh!” Thistle made a disgusted face. “It’s as if whoever made up this process had to make it as horrible as possible.”

  I wasn’t much into conspiracy theories, but I had to agree with her. “You just know it was a man.”

  “Definitely.”

  For her part, Clove wasn’t amused with our antics in the least. “Focus on me!” She snapped her fingers between our faces and grimly reclaimed the book. “I didn’t bring this book here so you could read it and terrify me. I need your help.”

  Even though messing with Clove was something of a hobby for the entire family — snark and sarcasm reign in the Winchester household, after all — I couldn’t hold out in the face of her misery.

  “It’ll be okay,” I reassured her, grasping for the right words. “You’re going to make a great mother.”

  The expression Clove made would’ve been funny under different circumstances. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’ll be a good mother. I was born to be a good mother. It’s this birth stuff I don’t get. Why can’t babies just kind of crawl out without hurting you or anything?”

  Thistle made a horrified face. “Crawl out? What kind of mutant baby are you expecting?”

  Clove ignored her and tapped the book. “Focus!”

  Several weeks ago, she’d announced she was pregnant ... but only to Thistle and me. Not only was she going to have a baby, but she was also much farther along than we were comfortable with. She was showing, although the clothes she selected did a good job of hiding that fact. She’d managed to hide the truth from our mothers until this point, but her luck couldn’t hold out forever.

  “All we have to do is keep it together until the wedding, which is in a few days,” Thistle noted. “I know moving the wedding by a week and a half to coincide with the solstice was a blow, but I think it’ll be better for us in the long run.”

  “How do you figure?” Clove’s eyes filled with worry, something I didn’t want to see because this was supposed to be the happiest time of her life. “I should already be married at this point. That was the original plan.”

  “Yes, well, you know our mothers.” I flipped another page in the book and made a gagging sound. “Ugh. Why are there so many pictures?”

  “These books are a cautionary tale of what happens when you let dudes have sex with you,” Thistle replied, her lips twisting into a sneer. “Apparently all the bad stuff happens to women. I mean ... that is horrifying. Who knew the human body could stretch like that?”

  “Giving birth is a natural process,” Clove countered. “Women have been doing this for generations. I’ll be fine.”

  She was much calmer than I expected. If I were in her position I’d be freaking out. That was usually Clove’s default reaction. Now, though, she was focused on other things ... like keeping the pregnancy secret until after she’d successfully married her fiancé Sam Cornell. That happy event was right around the corner. It had snuck up on us much faster than I’d anticipated.

  “You’ll be fine,” I agreed.

  “I’m just worried that Mom and the others will find out before I’m ready to tell them.” Clove chewed her bottom lip. “Do you think they’ll be angry?”

  I’d been considering that very question since Clove admitted to being pregnant. Her fear was palpable ... and that wasn’t only because the pregnancy was wreaking havoc with her hormones and causing her to project emotions in a manner that had Thistle and me acting out of sorts.

  The truth is, we were witches. We were born witches. Our mothers were witches. Our entire family was one long line of witches. Clove’s emotions, which had always been on the surface, were now so out of control that Thistle and I were occasionally displaying uncommon personality defects because Clove was exerting magic without realizing it.

  The situation wasn’t good ... and yet we were so close to the finish line we could practically taste victory.

  “It’ll be fine,” Thistle offered, forcing her attention away from the book and focusing on Main Street. We were seated in the living room section of Hypnotic, the store Clove and Thistle owned. “All we have to do is make it a few more days. Once you’re married, it won’t matter that you’re pregnant.”

  “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation,” I said as Clove turned another page. “Mother of the Goddess,” I hissed when I saw the photograph. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Stop looking!” Thistle barked. “Do you want to have nightmares? This will kill us all if we’re not careful.”

  “Not me.” Clove was firm as she smiled at the photo. “I’m looking forward to giving birth. No, seriously. I mean ... I’m scared of the pain and everything, but I’m looking forward to having a baby. How much fun will a baby be?”

  That felt like a trick question. “Loads?”

  Instead of being offended, Clove laughed. “You’re hilarious. I forgot how much you hated babies.”

  “I don’t hate them,” I countered. “I simply don’t like them.”

  “She’s afraid of them,” Thistle corrected. “They freak her out. If you want to know the truth, they freak me out, too. I’m not holding that thing until it’s more durable and its head doesn’t flop around. You’ve been warned.”

  Clove rolled her eyes. “You’ll get over it and be great aunts. I’m not worried about that. I’m just worried about our mothers finding out.”

  To me, giving birth was the real fear. I would much rather put up with a little disappointment from my mother and aunts than have a baby ripped from my loins. Yeah, I said it. Ever since Clove had announced she was pregnant I’d been having a series of depressingly dark dreams that involved giving birth to various creatures ... including cats, dogs, rats and Kardashians. The last was the most horrifying prospect of all.

  “I think you’re worrying about nothing where they’re concerned,” I offered. “It’s not like when we were teenagers. I mean ... if one of us ended up pregnant back then it would’ve felt like the end of the world. The thing is, we would’ve figured it out then, too.

  “You’re an adult now,” I continued. “I know they warned us that we would be disowned if we turned up pregnant before marriage, but I think that was just a deterrent for when we were too young to take care of ourselves. You’re getting married. In a few days, you’re going to get everything you ever wanted. Why would they possibly be upset about that?”

  “Because we’re supposed to be married before having babies,” Clove replied without hesitation. “They were adamant about that.”

  “Yes, and they were adamant that it was important not to have sex on the first date, but Aunt Winnie threw that out the window when she started having sex with Chief Terry,” Thistle noted.

  I frowned. I was still getting over the horror of finding out my mother was having sex with my favorite father figure. I was traumatized. “Do we have to talk about that?” I fought the urge to wrestle Thistle to the floor and start
shoveling dirt from the nearby potted plant into her mouth. “I don’t want to even think about that.”

  “Oh, poor Bay.” Thistle’s expression was mischievous as she poked my side. “We all have our hang-ups, don’t we?”

  That was an understatement. “Yeah. Some of us are convinced that Aunt Tillie is spying on us even though she’s been distracted by other things ... like her new pig.”

  Thistle scowled. “Aunt Tillie has been spying on us. I know she has. I caught her peeking through the window of the store the other day.”

  I had to bite back a laugh. “Your storefront consists of two big windows,” I reminded her. “Whenever someone walks past they have to look through the windows. That doesn’t mean they’re spying.”

  “Oh, grow up.” Thistle’s tone was withering. “She’s spying. That’s what she does.”

  “I think Thistle might be right,” Clove acknowledged. “Aunt Tillie has been acting weird ... and that’s saying something, because she bought a pig and named it Peg.”

  “I like Peg,” I countered. “She’s good for Aunt Tillie. She keeps her distracted.”

  “That is always a plus,” Thistle agreed. “She’s still spying. I haven’t figured out what she’s up to, but I will. I won’t let her out-maneuver me. I’m done letting her win.”

  That was a conversation for another time. Thistle’s paranoia was starting to rocket off the charts. It was a concern, but not one we could focus on now. We had other things to worry about, mainly Clove.

  “The other witches start arriving tomorrow,” I offered. “Once that happens, our mothers won’t be able to focus on anything but them. This is a big deal.”

  “I actually think one or two are showing up tonight,” Thistle countered, thoughtful. “Do you remember the last solstice celebration?”

  “We celebrate the solstice every year,” Clove countered.

  “I know, but ... I’m talking about the last big gathering.”

  “We were teenagers,” I answered, my mind drifting back to the day in question. “I remember it pretty well. There was a lot of naked dancing and wine drinking.”

  “There was a lot of fighting, too,” Clove added. “That’s why they canceled the big gathering the year after ... and things sort of snowballed from there.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. This is the first big gathering in twelve years at least. These witches haven’t been together in a long time. I can’t be the only one worried that some of them might’ve forgotten their manners.”

  “Oh, don’t kid yourself,” Thistle supplied. “You’re worried Aunt Tillie will forget her manners.”

  I’d definitely been worrying about that. “Landon asked me about the gathering last night,” I said, referring to my live-in boyfriend. We’d taken over the guesthouse I used to share with Clove and Thistle and were happily cohabiting. “He’s really excited to meet these other witches. I don’t know what to tell him.”

  “Why not tell him the truth?” Thistle prodded. “Tell him that Aunt Tillie is often considered the sensible witch when it comes to the other coven members.”

  I made a face. “I don’t want to scare him away.”

  “If Aunt Tillie’s leggings haven’t scared him away yet, it won’t happen. Still, I get what you’re saying. This is a big deal for all of us. I think that’s the only reason our mothers haven’t figured out Clove is pregnant. I mean ... they would have to be blind not to notice.”

  Clove, always concerned about her appearance, turned huffy. “You take that back.” Her agitation was on full display. “I look the same as I always have. I’ve put on only two pounds.”

  Thistle snorted. “Oh, please. You’ve easily put on twenty pounds. We’re just lucky that they think you’re stress eating because you’re nervous about the wedding.”

  “Twenty pounds?” Clove’s eyebrows hopped halfway up her forehead. “Bay, tell her that’s not true. I haven’t gained twenty pounds.”

  I felt caught. On one hand, Thistle was right. Clove had definitely put on more than a few pounds. It was noticeable ... unless you were our mothers, apparently. On the other hand, I enjoyed messing with Thistle to the point I found true joy in torturing her.

  “You look exactly the same, Clove,” I lied. “Pregnant women the world over would be thrilled to look like you.”

  Clove preened as Thistle scowled. “Thank you.”

  “Liar, liar, witch on fire,” Thistle hissed under her breath.

  I pinched her flank, causing her to squirm as Clove went back to looking at her freaky book. “If she wants to believe she’s still thin, who are you to ruin it for her? She just needs to get through a few more days. Is that too much to ask?”

  Thistle glowered at me but ultimately lowered her eyes. “Fine. I’ll keep playing this ridiculous game for a few days. After that, I’m going nuts.”

  I was right there with her. “I think we should be thankful that the coven elders decided to reinstate the group solstice celebration,” I said, smoothly changing the subject back to a topic not quite so dangerous. “We’re hosting it, so our mothers have something to obsess about other than us. That’s a good thing.”

  “That is a good thing,” Thistle agreed. “It’s just ... I don’t remember these solstice celebrations being relaxing events. I remember our mothers freaking out, barking a lot of orders and insisting that we be on our best behavior.”

  “I was always on my best behavior regardless,” Clove offered.

  “Thank you,” Thistle drawled. “The Goddess of Sucking Up is apparently reporting for duty early.”

  I couldn’t hide my smile despite Clove’s pronounced pout. “We don’t live under the same roof with them,” I pointed out. “It was different when we had to help with the cooking and cleaning. They’ll be taking all that on themselves this time. We can hide ... which is exactly what we need to do to keep Clove’s pregnancy a secret until the wedding.”

  “And then you’re telling them before you go on your honeymoon?” Thistle pressed. “You’re not going to drag it out, are you?”

  “No.” Clove’s lips curved down. “I thought about trying to pretend I got pregnant on the honeymoon, but odds are probably slim they would believe that.”

  “Especially with the baby coming in a few months,” I shot back dryly. “You need to tell them before you go. That way they can fume for two weeks and be over it by the time you get back.”

  “Which means they’ll take out their aggression on Bay and me while you’re gone,” Thistle added. “Not that we’re not happy to take one for the team or anything.”

  Clove’s expression turned rueful. “I appreciate you guys doing this for me. It means a lot.” Her voice cracked and, oddly enough, I felt tears clogging my throat.

  “Stop that,” Thistle hissed, swiping at the tears appearing on her cheeks. “You can’t keep projecting emotions on us. This will blow up in our faces if they figure out what’s happening before the wedding. You need to hold it together.”

  “I will,” Clove promised. “I promise I will. It’s just the hormones get me occasionally.”

  “Well ... make them stop.” Thistle lowered her face to Clove’s stomach. “Stop being a whiner, baby. We’re trying to protect you here. Get with the program.”

  I laughed, my eyes flicking to the window when I caught a hint of movement. At first glance I thought I was seeing things. Aunt Tillie wasn’t just walking past the window, she looked to be flying at a high rate of speed. Then I realized she had her hands on a set of handlebars and wasn’t flying as much as gliding.

  “What is that?” I was already on my feet and heading to the window before Thistle and Clove could say a word.

  “Was that a scooter?” Clove asked, joining me so we could stare at the sidewalk. Aunt Tillie had already disappeared around the corner.

  “I think it was,” I confirmed, lost in thought. “That must be the thing Mom and the aunts were complaining about her buying the other day. She ordered it from Amazon. M
om was furious because she said Aunt Tillie was going to break a hip or something.”

  “It’s a kick scooter,” Thistle pointed out. “Why did she get that instead of one she could sit down on?”

  I shrugged. That was a good question. “I don’t know. All I know is it’s motorized and she’s going really fast.”

  “You can say that again,” Clove supplied. “Here she comes again. Wait ... what is she doing?”

  I narrowed my eyes and watched as Aunt Tillie circled onto the sidewalk again, her eyes fixed on the store down the way.

  “She’s taunting Mrs. Little,” Thistle surmised, shaking her head. “She’s riding that thing around the block over and over because she knows it will drive Mrs. Little crazy.”

  Margaret Little was Aunt Tillie’s nemesis, so that was a fair bet. “Well ... at least a new toy will keep her busy for a few days.” I smirked as Aunt Tillie flew by the store window again, heading for the end of the block. “That’s always a bonus.”

  “That’s true.” Thistle brightened considerably. “In fact ... .” She trailed off when a distinct sound filled the air, the sound of what had to be at least fifty crows cawing in unison as they took to the air and fled the downtown area. They dotted the sky, a mass of moving black targets, and the noise was deafening.

  “What is that?” Clove asked, her hand flying to her mouth. “Is that what I think it is?”

  I was familiar enough with signs to confirm it without a second thought. “Harbingers,” I muttered, my witch training taking over. “They’re harbingers. Something bad is about to happen.”

  I was already moving Thistle and Clove away from the window when a rumbling started shaking the building. The sound of something exploding echoed from farther down the street. It was close enough to be worrisome, and the force of the blow was enough to rock Hypnotic to its very foundation. On instinct, we all dived behind the couch and took cover.

  Yes, something very bad was happening ... and it wasn’t over.

  Two