The Witching Flavor (A Cozy Mystery Book): Sweetland Witch Read online

  The Witching Flavor

  Sweetland Witch Series

  Zoe Arden

  ReedFoster Press House

  A Cozy Mystery Book

  Contents

  Copyright

  Like my page

  For You Personally

  Dedication

  About The Author

  Personal Word from Zoe

  .

  Prologue

  .

  Chapter One

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  Chapter Two

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  Chapter Three

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  Chapter Four

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  Chapter Five

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  Chapter Six

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  Chapter Seven

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  Chapter Eight

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  Chapter Nine

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  Chapter Ten

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  Chapter Eleven

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  Chapter Twelve

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  Chapter Thirteen

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  Chapter Fourteen

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  Chapter Fifteen

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  Chapter Sixteen

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  Chapter Seventeen

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  Chapter Eighteen

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  Chapter Nineteen

  .

  Chapter Twenty

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  Chapter Twenty-one

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  Chapter Twenty-two

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  Chapter Twenty-three

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  Chapter Twenty-four

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  Chapter Twenty-five

  .

  Chapter Twenty-six

  .

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  .

  Chapter Twenty-eight

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  Chapter Twenty-nine

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  Chapter Thirty

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  Chapter Thirty-one

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  Chapter Thirty-two

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  Chapter Thirty-three

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  Chapter Thirty-four

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  Chapter Thirty-five

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  Chapter Thirty-six

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  Chapter Thirty-seven

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  Chapter Thirty-eight

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  Chapter Thirty-nine

  .

  Chapter Forty

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  Epilogue

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  Preview of Next Book

  Also By . ORDER OF BOOKS

  For You Personally

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 by

  Zoe Arden

  and

  ReedFoster press House

  All Rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  * * *

  DEDICATION

  * * *

  This book is specially dedicated to YOU- the reader!

  First of all, I would like to thank you for picking my book and reading it.

  Your interest to do so spurs me on to write even better stories, stories that will be capable in bringing us to a world of fun, mystery and suspense, albeit just for a little while.

  Your support has always meant a lot to me and I hope you will continue to enjoy reading what I have written.

  Thank you!

  “ The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible. ”

  Oscar Wilde

  Have you checked out my other cozy mystery books?

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  * * *

  * * *

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  * * *

  It was from reading Agatha Christie’s mystery books that inspired Zoe to write cozy mystery novels. Zoe liked the fact that cozy mysteries are able to offer readers a form of escapism that typical detective stories can’t.

  Like what Marilyn Stasio, who has been the Crime columnist forThe New York TimesBook Review since the late 1980s, recently wrote: “The abiding appeal of the cozy mystery owes a lot to our collective memory, true or false, of simpler, sweeter times.” It is Zoe’s desire that her writings will evoke that nostalgic memory in all of us; those memories of the good old days.

  What sets Zoe apart in her writings is her fusing of Mystery with Paranormal elements, a combination which will bring about fantasies that are intriguing and engaging. Her stories contain unexpected twists and sometimes light-hearted moments that will make one smile at Zoe’s quirkiness, fun and wittiness in her writings.

  Much Love,

  * * *

  PERSONAL WORD

  FROM ZOE ARDEN

  * * *

  Hello, lovely reader!

  In my stories, you will find a unique juxtaposition of mystery and paranormal themes, an attempt which I believe will be enthralling.

  You will discover how a mystery case is being cracked through peeling off layers and layers of suspense and clues.

  And fantastical creatures play a part in this…how can it be?

  That’s for you to find out.

  Thank you once again, for being such an incredible support in my writing career.

  Much Love,

  .

  "What's the verdict?" Sheriff Knoxx asked Dr. Dunne. "Can you tell what killed her?"

  "Oh yes," Dr. Dunne said, exchanging a look with Dr. Wallace. "It wasn't hard to figure out."

  We all waited.

  "Well?" Sheriff Knoxx finally asked.

  Dr. Dunne cleared his throat. "Pennyweather Kelso died from exsanguination. She was completely drained of blood."

  I tried to stop myself from looking at Melbourne, but it was impossible. My head moved on its own, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Everyone else seemed to be having the same problem as me.

  Completely drained of blood.

  That's what Dr. Dunne had said. How did something like that happen? Unless...

  "I didn't do it," Melbourne shouted, panic setting in his eyes. He knew what we were thinking.

  "Of course not," Eleanor said, but she didn't sound so sure.

  "I don't drink human blood anymore. I haven't in centuries. I've learned to go without."

  "Melbourne, we believe you," Lucy said. She looked around the room, frowning. "Or at lea
st I believe you."

  "All right, so I may have had a slight relapse a half century or so ago, but it only lasted a night." Melbourne stumbled through his words. He was rambling now.

  "I was emotionally despondent. My sister had just been slaughtered by a vampire hunter and I may have... inadvertently... punctured his throat. With my teeth." He cleared his throat as my hand automatically rose to cover my exposed neck.

  "I loved Pennyweather." Melbourne had risen from his seat. He was walking in a tight circle at the foot of Lucy's bed. "You don't understand," he said, pleading with us to believe him. "I-I was going to ask her to marry me!"

  My aunts and I looked at each other. I could tell Lucy believed him. No questions asked. The rest of us, though... I wasn't so sure. I wobbled back and forth on the teeter totter, uncertain how I was supposed to land on one side or the other.

  * * *

  Prologue

  .

  Meenah brushed the dark hair out her eyes and read the headline again.

  SECOND MISSING: DARK FORCES AT WORK!

  "Javyn, have you seen this?" she asked her husband, tossing him the paper.

  He glanced at the headline. "Yeah, I saw it this morning. So?"

  "So?" she cried, incredulous. "So what is the Council on Magic and Human Affairs doing about this?"

  "Why should they do anything?" Javyn asked. "No humans are involved. They're not the ones going missing."

  She frowned at him. "Well, someone's got to do something."

  "I'm sure that Zulabar is on top of it."

  "Zulabar wouldn't know his head from an Oreo."

  Javyn grunted a laugh. "Don't let him hear you say that. Kings have a funny way of demanding respect."

  Kiya came down the stairs just then. She was wearing her paisley dress and powder pink lipstick. A red bow had been secured neatly in her hair.

  "Where do you think you're going?" Meenah asked her daughter.

  "Just out with some friends, Mama. I'm supposed to meet Tori and the others."

  "Oh no. I don't think so. Not tonight."

  "But Moooom," Kiya cried. "It's a study session. We have junior finals coming up before Christmas break."

  Meenah licked her lips, thinking. "No," she said. "I'm sorry."

  "Daaaad," Kiya whined, turning to her father now. "This is important. Mama doesn't understand because she never liked school. Not like you and me."

  Meenah hated that Kiya thought she could play Javyn and her against each other like this. It was true that Meenah had hated school, but it was also true that she had done exceedingly well in it.

  "Kiya, I already told you no."

  Kiya ignored her mother completely and focused on the parent she knew she could flip to her side. Typical teenager. Javyn chuckled. He always found it amusing when Kiya behaved like a child. Meenah often had to remind him that Kiya was nearly seventeen. How amusing would it be when she was twenty? Or thirty? What husband would want a perpetual toddler as a life partner?

  "Meenah," Javyn said, shrugging his shoulders as Kiya knelt by his side, giving him the puppy dog stare. He was always a sucker for the puppy dog stare.

  "There is a killer on the loose!" Meenah exclaimed.

  "Actually, there's no proof the two who are missing are even dead," Javyn said.

  "That's right," Kiya chimed in. "We talked all about it in current events the other day. Ms. Wogan says it's more of a rumor than anything. That it's just a couple of guys who got up one morning and decided they hated their jobs and life so they left."

  "And no one's seen or heard from them since?" Meenah asked. "Not even their families?"

  Kiya shrugged.

  "Come on, Mom. It's not even dark yet. Tori's house is just a few blocks away and once I'm there, I won't leave. Promise."

  Meenah felt herself begin to cave and knew Kiya could sense it.

  "We have so much studying to do." Now she turned her puppy dog stare on her mother.

  Meenah heaved a sigh. "Fine."

  Kiya jumped up from her father's side, grinning, and kissed her mother's cheek. She was already grabbing her purse and jacket when Meenah got a cold tickle at the back of her neck. December wasn't exactly cold in Heavenly Haven, but it wasn't quite as warm in their territory as it was in Sweetland Cove or Mistmoor Point. Meenah dismissed the tickle and focused on giving her daughter instructions.

  "Walk directly to Tori's house. Do not talk to anyone. Do not go anywhere off the main road. Got it?"

  "Yes, Mama."

  "And text me when you get there."

  "Of course."

  Meenah felt a teensy bit better. Tori's house really wasn't far, and this was a safe neighborhood.

  "Oh, and I'm taking these, all right?" Kiya asked, reaching for the box of a half dozen cupcakes from The Mystic Cupcake that Meenah had sent out for the other day. Eleanor's wolfhound was always a delight when he dropped them off. Meenah had set aside a doggy treat just for him.

  "Those are for this weekend," Meenah said.

  "We need some food to keep us going, Mama. You don't want us to starve our brains, do you?"

  Meenah laughed and waved her arm toward the box. "Go on. I can always order more. I'm sure Rocky won't object to another treat or two."

  Kiya grabbed them and ran. "Thanks!" she called. She was already at the edge of their lawn by the time Meenah got to the door. She felt the tickle at the back of her neck again but brushed it away and shut the door.

  At the end of the block, once she was out of sight, Kiya turned left and made a beeline for Whisper Crossing. She didn't like lying to her parents, but they still treated her like she was a child.

  "Peda cesura," she said softly and wiggled her nose. Her feet suddenly began to move faster. It almost felt like she was flying instead of running. It took her only twenty minutes to reach Whisper Crossing this way.

  When her feet finally settled down, she was standing at the edge of the cemetery looking for Ekon. He was probably running late. Ekon was always running late. She pulled a compact from her purse and made sure her lipstick was still in place. Good thing I checked. Just look at that smudge. She reached for her lipstick and her fingers touched the red rose petals she had stuffed into her purse earlier this morning. A shiver ran up her spine.

  Kiya didn't quite understand why she felt the need to hide the rose petals from her parents. Maybe it was because she knew how protective they were. Especially her mother. Would they have let her out of the house tonight if she'd told them? Definitely not. The petals had been lying at the foot of her bed when she woke up. As if someone had been standing there in the night. Watching her.

  Kiya shivered.

  She sent her mom a quick text to let her know she was all right and quickly reapplied her powder pink lipstick. She adjusted her red bow before focusing her attention on the rainbow shades of flowers and plants that were part of Whisper Crossing's drawing power. It was the one place on the island where all witches, warlocks, and other paranormals were welcome without question. Mostly because it was the one place on the island where you could find assorted plants and herbs that you couldn't get anywhere else.

  Because of that, Kiya was surprised she was alone. Usually, there were a few witches hanging around, either from Sweetland or from Mistmoor. It unsettled her a bit, but the sun was still out and it warmed the December air around her. There was nothing to worry about. She'd been here many times before, usually with Ekon. She still didn't understand why her parents didn't like him. She knew all about his bad boy reputation, but he was really a sweetie pie.

  He never laid a hand on her. Never talked unkindly toward her. And she was usually the one who had to instigate the kissing. Ekon would have been fine with holding hands all day and night. His one fault, as far as she could tell, was his chronic lateness. To everything. Always.

  Kiya let out a sigh and stepped into the cemetery. Sara Sweetland's tombstone was just at the top of the hill. The white marble angel, with its long and flowing wings turned in on itself, a
lways made her feel safe somehow.

  "Hi," she said to the statue. She knew what most people said about it were rumors, but there was one rumor she'd always been curious to test for herself. She cleared her throat. "Sara bright, Sara bliss, Sara bring a boy to kiss."

  There was a rustle just behind the statue. Sara's smile widened. "Oh, my roses, it worked! Ekon!" she cried, running behind the angel. But Ekon wasn't there. All she found was a terrible smell. A stench so bad it almost made her puke.

  "Ew," she muttered, "what is that?" She began looking for the source of the stench. Just ahead, she saw a tombstone had fallen over. Something inside her told her to get away. Now. But the curiosity of a sixteen-year-old quickly won out.