Don't Give a Witch (Bless Your Witch Book Six) Read online

  My cheeks flamed from embarrassment. I cringed. “Sorry,” I squeaked.

  “Way to ruin things,” Reid grumbled.

  I waved my hands. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’m so sorry.”

  But no one seemed to accept my apology. I heard the rumblings of “loser,” “horrible,” “how’d she get in here anyway?”

  Yeah. The sort of stuff that just makes your day all golden and bright.

  An inch of water blanketed the floor.

  Milly blew her whistle. “Everybody out. At least until we get this cleaned up.”

  My clothes hung heavy, making me feel like I was wearing twenty-pound weights on my ankles. My feet slogged through the water. We splashed through the room at a snail’s pace.

  I glanced around, looking for Cobblestone, but I didn’t see him anywhere.

  “Where’d he go?” I said to Sera.

  She wrung out the tail of her shirt. “Who?”

  “Cobblestone. He was right here a second ago.”

  She wiped away a plastered strand of hair from her cheek. “I don’t know.”

  I searched the room, but he was nowhere to be seen. Taylor Cobblestone had disappeared.

  SEVEN

  “That was creepy,” I said, pointing to the spot where I’d seen Cobblestone. “He was right there.”

  Reid twisted a lock of her burgundy curls. Water trickled to the floor. “He’s not there now.”

  “Yeah, I noticed,” I said. “He sure seemed to like you.”

  Her face flushed a crimson red. Reid toed the floor, saying nothing.

  “Where’d he go?” I said.

  Sera directed me toward the door. “No idea. Why don’t we get out of these soaking clothes and discuss it?”

  “Okay,” I grumbled.

  We slogged back to our room, following a crowd of complaining witches. I kept my head and voice low, afraid that someone would start yelling at me. I mean, technically it was my fault we were soaked.

  I waited until Milly caught up with us. “You’re not going to try to dry me off with a flamethrower, are you?” she said.

  I rubbed my chin, pretending to consider that option. “I wasn’t planning on it, but that sounds like a pretty good idea.”

  “Can it, toots.” She yanked the soaking-wet COACH hat off her head. She wiggled her fingers at it. The cap wrung itself out, and the next thing I knew, it was completely dry. Milly waved her hands down her body, and all the water evaporated from her clothes.

  “Can you do that for me?” I said, grinning.

  Milly glared at me with her beady little eyes. “Not likely. You’ve got to dry off the hard way.”

  “Listen, Milly, right before I unleashed the wave pool on us, I saw someone—Taylor Cobblestone. Yesterday Devlin didn’t let him enter the contest, and then he shows up for practice. Did you see him?”

  “I was too busy helping some youngster work his magic. I didn’t see anybody.”

  “But he was there.”

  “Not that I saw.” Milly walked on ahead of me.

  I trudged on, but something bothered me about seeing Taylor Cobblestone. Why was he here? Had Devlin ended up letting him enter the contest? I needed some answers, and I knew just the person to ask—Councilwoman Gladiolas.

  After I got over the drowned-rat look, I found her door and gave it a shy knock. A note attached to the wall unfurled, explaining that she was in the gardens. I traipsed through the castle until I found her.

  She was sitting with other council members. Boy, were they a sour-looking bunch of folks. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed pretty hush-hush. I waited a few minutes until they broke. Gladiolas saw me and came over.

  “Everything okay, Dylan?”

  I shook my head. “Can we walk?”

  “Of course.”

  We wound our way through the maze of flowers. It was hot; summer was just about in full swing. Sunlight warmed my skin while a line of sweat trickled down my back, sticking my cotton shirt to my skin.

  “Yesterday, Damon Devlin didn’t allow Taylor Cobblestone to enter the competition. Cobblestone got pretty angry about it before he left. I thought he was done, but then I saw him today. Is he back in the competition?”

  Gladiolas frowned. “I’m not really sure. As a judge I don’t participate in the lineup of contestants.”

  I frowned. “Oh.”

  She gave me a wide, motherly smile. A sweet scent drifted off her. It smelled like orange blossoms. It made me smile. “But I’ll see if I can help you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “This whole thing is really strange. One of the councilmen told Roman that if he didn’t catch the thief, he’d end up in jail.”

  Gladiolas patted my hand. “Don’t worry about that. Roman is capable.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know why some of the councilors insist on using old, antiquated laws. I won’t let Roman go to jail.”

  I sighed, relieved. “Thank you. It’s just, he’s got so much going on right now. Chasity LaRue gave me a pact ring that will lead us right to his mother’s killer. Jonathan Pearbottom’s here, too, right? I don’t think he knows that Roman is hiding his dad, Boo. My gosh, if Pearbottom finds out Boo is here, he’ll probably bring him in for questioning about Queen Catherine’s death. Who knows what that will do to the man.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “I mean, sheesh, it’s a lot for anyone to handle. I can barely deal with it, and it’s not even my life.”

  A glint of something flared in Gladiolas’s eyes. “You mean to tell me that whoever killed Roman’s mother created a pact ring with Chasity’s mother, Wanda?”

  I nodded. “Crazy, huh?”

  Gladiolas nodded. “Most definitely. This is the closest we’ve ever been to solving this crime.” She sighed. “You may not know this, but Queen Catherine was a good friend of mine. I, too, want to know who killed her.” She reached over and patted my shoulder. “I’ll talk to the council about threatening Roman. He’s one of the good guys. I’ll remind them that he’s on our side.”

  I clicked my tongue. “I agree.”

  “Now, was there anything else I can help you with?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  She gave me a tender smile. “Let’s get inside before we both melt from this heat.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I decided to go the back way to my room. That would take me along a lesser used path of the castle. Last time I was at Castle Witch, I’d been named temporary queen while Roman and Pearbottom tried to untangle who had just murdered the newly elected queen. Needless to say I spent a lot of time hiding out from people who wanted me to do queenly sorts of things—which meant I learned how to sneak around the halls.

  I made it to the back stairs and started climbing. I reached an alcove with a window seat. Taylor Cobblestone was perched there.

  My heart raced when I saw him, but like, I needed to confront this guy. Who the heck hisses at someone?

  I stopped, jutted my hip way out and crossed my arms. “You’re not going to spit venom at me, are you?”

  Cobblestone glanced in my direction and rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t even if I could.”

  “So are you in the competition?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I’m in. Someone leaked that I’m a Cobblestone to Damon Devlin and he let me in. I wanted to get in on my own merit, but the Cobblestone name preceded me.”

  Great. So I’d be seeing a lot of him. More than what I wanted, apparently. “Well, let the best person win.”

  He laughed. Perfect white teeth shone in the sunlight that streaked through the window. “You’ll need it. Try not to flood the room, will ya?”

  I opened my mouth and hissed at him. That’s right. I hissed right back at the little creep. He snickered and rose, leaving the window without a word.

  He left something behind, though. I leaned over, peering under the seat. I smiled when I realized he’d left a brown root beer bottle.

  It looked exactly like the one the thief had left in place
of Never Forget.

  I took the bottle to Roman, being careful to wrap it in my shirt so I wouldn’t get any fingerprints on it. I found him in his room.

  “I found this on Taylor Cobblestone,” I announced.

  Roman quirked a brow. “And?”

  I strode in, head high, chest poking out. Boy, I had this one in the bag. “I’ve been careful not to contaminate it with my DNA, so that you can take a perfect specimen and match Cobblestone to the Never Forget thief. We can wrap this case up and be done with it.”

  Roman coughed into his fist. “The bottle we found didn’t have any fingerprints and it hadn’t been drunk from. There’s no DNA.”

  “Isn’t there any magical DNA or something? Did you find any magic threads? Something that we can match the thief to?”

  Roman shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

  I tapped my foot. “Can’t you make something up?”

  He rolled his eyes. “We won’t have to. I’ll find them.”

  “Got any leads?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  I tossed the bottle into a wastebasket. It hit the side with a thud. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  “No.”

  I threw my hands into the air. “Then how am I supposed to help you?”

  “You’re not.”

  “Fine,” I murmured, heading toward the door.

  “I still love you,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know. I love you, too.” I let the door close behind me harder than I needed to.

  The next day my sisters and I went down to breakfast with all the other contestants. I didn’t have much appetite, but I needed something to fill the hole that was my stomach before an ulcer ate it up. Worry kept me up most of the night. It was a lot thinking about the thief, Roman’s mom, and all that.

  I had a full plate—figuratively.

  I glanced down at the white porcelain. All I’d grabbed was half a grapefruit and some coffee. Acid city, here I come.

  My sisters and I sat at a table beside the witch with the long pink hair. She was talking to another group of witches.

  “Oh, I know, I’m surprised they let Henrietta in, too. She used to be so good, but lately her magic’s been awful. I thought it was bad enough that they let that Cobblestone guy in, but what can you do? His father is one of the judges. But Horrible Henrietta? Her mother must’ve forced Devlin to allow her.”

  Okay, so my nosy factor hitched up about a thousand notches when I heard all that. “Who?” I said.

  The pink-haired witch tossed her head over in my direction. She started to sneer, but then stopped.

  “Oh, it’s the Apel sisters.” She extended her pale ivory hand. “I’m Fawna Merriweather.”

  “Really?” Reid said between mouthfuls of grits. “That’s your name?”

  Fawna smirked at Reid. I could tell it was hard for her not to say something nasty to my little sister.

  I decided I didn’t have time for a load of small talk. “So what were you saying about that Henrietta girl?”

  Fawna’s gaze washed over me from head to floor as if deciding whether or not I was good enough to explain it. Her lips coiled up and around. She cocked her head, pointing away from us.

  “There,” she said. “That’s Horrible Henrietta. The biggest loser of all the losers.”

  I stared past her at a small, frail woman sitting on one side of a table with long benches. Stringy, unwashed hair hung in her face. She kept her head down, her features covered.

  “What’s so bad about her?” Sera said. “She doesn’t look like a threat to me.”

  Fawna rolled her eyes. “She’s not a threat. It’s not her you have to watch out for.”

  A giant woman entered. Everything stopped. People divided the room like Moses parting the Red Sea. The woman was huge—like, I’m not kidding. The floor quaked as she walked. Her long hair hung shaggy in her face, and her clothes—a T-shirt and jeans—looked like they would rip right off her.

  The giant thundered across the floor until she reached Henrietta. She squeezed onto the bench across from the girl. The opposite side tilted up, sending the few witches sitting on it toppling to the floor. They shrieked. The giant didn’t seem to notice.

  She fisted her hand down to the table. The rumble rocked the room. “Who didn’t put cheese in my daughter’s grits? She asked for cheese. She always does!”

  The giant picked up Henrietta’s bowl and flung it against the wall. The porcelain shattered into a thousand pieces.

  I gulped. “Holy cow. Who is that?”

  Fawna leaned over and said, “That’s who you have to watch out for. That’s Lucinda, Henrietta’s mother. She’s a stage mom from hell.”

  EIGHT

  About an hour later I stood in the castle theater. Seriously, the castle had a theater. Last time I was here, I had no idea the place existed. I mean, the castle was magical, so I guess the building could’ve been created about five minutes ago.

  That was possible.

  These were witches I was talking about—anything was possible.

  “Nobody puts Henrietta in the corner,” Lucinda the Giant roared.

  Case in point—Lucinda, the giant stage mother, fisting a clump of Damon Devlin’s collar in her hands.

  “Henrietta goes first,” she yelled.

  Devlin tugged the meaty hook off him. He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt. “Madam, there is a program, and that is what we follow. No one is giving Henrietta an unfair disadvantage.”

  “Better not be,” she growled. Her baritone almost made me laugh, but then I saw that her hands were the size of sledgehammers and I really didn’t want to get on that woman’s bad side.

  Like not at all.

  Devlin turned to the rest of us. “What happens now is that you will be called onstage and given your task. You won’t know what it is until then, and it is picked at random by our judges. Taylor Cobblestone is first. The rest of you can relax while you wait.” He glanced around. “Taylor, where are you?”

  Taylor pushed his way through the knot of contestants. He reached the front and said, “Here. I’m ready.”

  Taylor sauntered past, wearing nothing but a…black Speedo.

  Devlin’s eyes widened, and he coughed into his hand. “Very well. Let’s go.”

  I hated to admit it, but Taylor wore it well. Super well, in fact.

  Reid stepped up beside me. “Wow, is that legal?”

  Sera leaned over. “I don’t know, but it sure is interesting.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know if ‘interesting’ is the word I’d use. More like completely inappropriate.”

  “But hot,” Reid said.

  Sera and I shot her dark looks. “Okay, let’s try to relax before it’s our time.”

  The competition went pretty quick. Taylor finished up in about ten minutes or so, and then it was my turn. I had no idea what the heck was going to be required of me. My hands shook from nerves. My heart raced, and I took deep gulps of air to calm myself down.

  “Breathe,” Sera said. “You’ll be fine.”

  “I’m trying.”

  She rubbed my shoulders. “Sheesh. You’re tense. You need to calm down.”

  “Okay,” I snapped. “I’ll try not to look like a complete moron.”

  “Just focus on the fact that Grandma’s out there. That should help keep things in perspective.”

  I nodded. “That actually helps.”

  Devlin pointed to me. “You’re up.”

  Sera clapped my back. “Good luck.”

  I passed Taylor on the way to the stage. He smirked. “Have fun.”

  I didn’t know if he was being sarcastic or not, and I didn’t care. I smiled widely and flashed him two sets of crossed fingers. “Thanks, dude.”

  He rolled his eyes and kept walking. In a Speedo.

  Devlin guided me past the curtain and out onto the platform stage. Warm yellow light splashed over my skin. It was bright, which made it hard to see
the judges. That was fine with me—the less I saw of them, the better, I figured.

  “This is Dylan Apel,” Devlin said.

  He exited the stage, leaving me all alone. A man’s voice, probably the older Cobblestone, broke the silence.

  “For your first test of skill, you will keep this ball in the center of the room.”

  I squinted. “What ball?” I didn’t see a ball. There wasn’t a ball anywhere. What was this guy talking about?

  Then I saw it. It was bright pink and slightly smaller than a beach ball. It hurdled straight for me and was only half a second away from colliding with my face.

  I raised my hands. Power flared in my core, sending a comforting wave of warmth tingling through my body. Magic burst from my fingertips, enveloping the orb.

  It stopped its evil trajectory toward my nose. I pushed it back, back until it reached what I considered to be the center. I eased up on my hold, thinking I’d won that part of the lesson since it didn’t get planted on my face.

  The ball zoomed over to the right. Someone else was manipulating it. Probably Cobblestone. I reached out magical tendrils and wrapped them around the orb. I tried to suck it back to the center, but the magic pulling on it was stronger. I dug down deep into my core and sent a surge of power into it.

  This time when I tugged, the ball gave. I put it in its place, keeping my magic locked in on it.

  I waited.

  His magic flared, and I felt the tug, the pull as he tried to rip the ball from its spot. This time I was ready. I kept my focus strong, my magic locked. When he yanked, it only gave a few inches.

  The constant flood of magic from my body started putting a strain on me. Sweat trickled down my temple. My head felt light. I’d never used my magic for more than bits and bursts. I wasn’t used to sending it out for long periods of time to hold something in place while fighting against someone else’s magic.

  My muscles began to ache, and for once in my life I started to feel like my magic was drying up. I wasn’t a bottomless well with unlimited power. There was a wall, and I was about to hit it. Actually, more like slam into it going a thousand miles per hour.