Witch on Ice Read online

  Witch on Ice

  Cat Larson

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Witch on Ice

  Bigfoot Bay Witches Book 1

  By Cat Larson

  Copyright © 2019 by Cat Larson

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews, without the written permission of the author.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover design by 100 Covers

  Chapter One

  Banana Jungle.

  That was the name I’d just designated my 300-square-foot studio after nearly face-planting. Bridal mags cluttered the floor like peels, and I could barely take a step without slipping on a glossy. When you have a place the size of an ogre’s shoebox, it doesn’t take much to trash it up.

  “Hoot! Hoot!” I even had a pack of wild animals housed next door. “Ooh eeh ah.” Or a witch doctor. I banged on the paper-thin wall I shared with my neighbor to the left, not that it would do any good. I had no idea what they did in there, but I had to hear it at all hours of the day and night. “Squeak!”

  I shook my head. Between the mess and the racket, I was living in pandemonium.

  And I couldn’t have been happier.

  Because (drumroll, please)… Fernando proposed last night! An impromptu bending down on one knee in the park that had left me dumbstruck. Fortunately, it hadn’t taken long to snap out of it and say yes. But once the screaming abated, I was thrown into a tizzy when I realized I hadn’t the slightest clue how to plan a wedding. Hence, the magazines. We hit up a stand on the way home and wiped them clean of everything that had a white dress on the cover.

  I glanced around the tiny space I’d been occupying for the past eight years. It was all mine and I loved it, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t ready for a change.

  Fernando assured me that in no time at all we’d move into a nice big house, one with enough grass to require a lawn mower and enough land to anchor a swing set.

  He said he had some money coming in soon, but for now, I was content. My place was home. It was normal. Blissfully normal. And at the moment, there was nothing more perfect than lying on my stomach on a freezing cold wood floor in the peak of Chicago winter, kicking up my heels and getting paper cuts while paging through wedding reception trends.

  As I flipped over a corner, I stole a glimpse at my naked finger. So there wasn’t a ring yet. No problem. There’d be one very soon. Along with the house, that was his promise. It’d all been so out of the blue. He told me it felt like the quintessential moment, and he couldn’t wait a second longer to propose. So he didn’t.

  I thought it was romantic. Totally spontaneous, which is one of the qualities I love about him so much. We’d only been together for a half a day over six months, and this was the last thing I was expecting, but when it was right, it was right, whether that be an hour or a decade. And since I was crazy about the guy, I decided to take a page from his playbook and be just as adventurous.

  Meeting “The One,” falling in love, getting engaged… that was how normal people lived their lives. They did run-of-the-mill things like buying a house, getting a dog or two, maybe having some kids, then spending their weekends camping or doing mundane chores like grocery shopping or scrubbing toilets.

  Not frolicking under a full moon. Not uttering incantations over a bubbling potion. And especially not blowing up major appliances, terrifying the babysitter. The only magic I wanted to be associated with was the kind created when two hearts came together.

  A thought wafted through my head, carrying with it an image of a boy I knew in school, but it was strewn aside by the here and now. Fernando. My fiancé.

  I turned another page and… squeal. Wow. That dress. The dress. I was almost positive I not only wanted to walk down the aisle in it but also be buried in it as well. Ugh. Gruesome. Abort that thought. I shut the magazine. It wasn’t the style of the dress that mattered anyway. I could get married in a burlap sack and everything would still be stellar.

  I checked the time. It was a hair over 7:00 p.m. in Peru, which also just happened to be local time as well. That sure made it convenient whenever I needed to get a hold of my parents. They’d be bunkering down soon for the night; it was call now or wait until morning. Either way, it’d be hit or miss. Their connection was shaky at best, and I couldn’t always reach them anyway. If there was a true emergency, there were ways to get the word out, but I didn’t think this constituted an emergency, even if it felt like an issue of top priority to me.

  After all, their firstborn was engaged, and this was some big news. Huge. Monumental.

  I picked up my cell and began punching in the number when mid-dial my sister’s flaming hair popped on the screen.

  My younger sister. My only sister. With her, I wasn’t too thrilled to share the news since she’d be equally as thrilled to hear it.

  I was about to ignore her in favor of speaking with someone who would actually be happy for me when I reluctantly accepted the call. Might as well get it over with; she’d find out soon enough anyway.

  “Hey, Violet—”

  “You need to get here. Now.”

  “What?” I bit the sides of my cheeks to contain the laughter. By “here,” my overly dramatic sister meant Bigfoot Bay. Otherwise known as my freaky hometown almost two hours away. Sure, Sis. I’ll be right there. “What crisis did you get yourself into this time? Did you—”

  The sound of Fernando’s voice stopped me cold. The floor beneath me suddenly felt like a warm beach.

  “Samm… I’m so sorry…” There were words I couldn’t decipher. Arguing in the background. Commotion. Fernando’s angry tone caused me to leap up.

  “Violet! What is going on? What’s he doing there?”

  She didn’t respond. If it weren’t for all the muffled ruckus, I would’ve thought she’d disconnected the call. I wasn’t paying attention and skidded over a slick insert sprawled open on the floor, almost nosediving into my glass end table.

  Argh. What was he doing there? They had no business even being in the same room together. It wasn’t safe. Not with the way she felt about him. He was supposed to be here with me, not in another state with someone who despised him. We had dinner plans this evening. We were supposed to be discussing whatever it was that engaged couples discussed, for criminy’s sake.

  “Violet, answer me. I swear—”

  The crashing of glass had me running for the door. At least it sounded like breaking glass, but with my sister involved, who knew? Son of a… Now, I was really worried. I made it out to the hallway when I realized I didn’t have my purse or my car keys. Wouldn’t get too far without them. Despite the wisdom of bumper stickers, my alternate form of transportation was not a broom.

  Another loud bang sent me to the ceiling. It was like they were hosting a cymbal convention. Their voices rose higher, but still, I couldn’t make out anything besides a few expletives. I went back and snatched my purse, then darted out to the street, taking the s
teps two at a time. I dropped the call. If she wasn’t going to answer me, I had to try someone who would.

  I multitasked, ringing up my fiancé while sprinting across the parking lot and praying that cars would stay out of my path. What good would I do anyone if I were flattened to the asphalt?

  Pick up, pick up, pick up, I silently pleaded as I hopped in my car.

  “Eve.”

  I let out a huge puff of air that quickly formed into a misty cloud. It was blasted cold out here. I started up the ignition which I knew would need several minutes before it was even ready to drive.

  “Fernando, thank God. Please tell me—”

  A lightning bolt struck me dumb, causing my eardrum to sizzle. What the…? It wasn’t even storming out. I yanked my cell away, expecting to see smoke billowing from it. I could certainly smell it. My hand and entire ear felt like they were on fire, but when I rubbed my other hand against them, they were just slightly warm.

  An explosion of fear burst through me. “Fernando!” I screamed.

  No answer. I couldn’t even get a signal. My battery had been full just a moment before, but now it’d been zapped dead. I let out another shriek. I had no charger in the car and couldn’t waste time going back inside to get one. I tossed the phone aside and immediately went into autopilot, forcing my poor cold engine to move before its time like I was kicking an exhausted horse to gallop faster.

  Conscious thought had not returned until I was crossing the border into Wisconsin, convinced that a tribe of amphetamine-loving flying monkeys was carrying me. I had no idea how I’d made it so quickly, thanking my lucky stars that we weren’t in the middle of a nasty blizzard.

  I tried to make sense of everything I knew so far, tried packaging it up into a nice sparkly box of understanding.

  The best I got was a dented-up tackle box with lots of jagged, sharp hooks inside.

  The only thing I knew for certain was that my man possessed a kind heart. He knew that my sister and I didn’t see eye to eye on some things (okay, most things). After he’d proposed, he was curious who I’d pick to be my maid of honor. He didn’t come right out and say it, but I was sure he was hinting at Violet. I told him straight out that I’d never ask her, and even if I did, she’d never accept. As far as he knew, we had a falling-out when we were kids and never fully reconciled. End of story.

  Because really, what was I supposed to say? I could just imagine that conversation: Hey, sweetie, guess what? Your future wife is a witch—a recovering one, so no problem there—but oh, by the way, the rest of the family has a completely different outlook. You see, they’re full-blown witches and proud of it. What? Witches aren’t real, you say? Ha! You’re in for a rude awakening then, my love. And did I forget to mention one teensy-weensy detail? My magical genes are dominant and can be passed down to any offspring.

  But don’t worry. I’ve been doing just fine all these years suppressing my witchy side. It won’t even be an issue. Barely. No, really, I’m perfectly sane. Honest.

  What’s that, honey? You’re not sure you can handle this right now and need some time to think about it?

  Ugh. I gave my head a sharp shake, forcing myself back to the present. Good thing too, considering I was operating heavy machinery at seventy miles per hour.

  Nope, not a conversation I’d be eager to have any time soon, if ever. I was not a fan of keeping secrets, but this was the type of destructive skeleton that could come out and rip your head clean off. I liked Fernando’s head right where it was, thank you very much.

  I gripped the steering wheel and plowed forward, passing a sign stating the Bigfoot Bay exit was only ten miles away. If I’d remembered correctly, after I turned off the freeway, it’d be at least fifteen minutes of rural driving if I kept to the speed limit. I pushed the pedal down to eighty.

  I couldn’t stop freaking out about those two in the same vicinity. My fiancé’s spontaneity had likely caused him to rush over and speak with my sister, probably hoping to convince her to make amends with me in time for our wedding. Sweet guy.

  On the other side of the coin, Violet was a troll in a china shop. What was even worse than having a reckless sister with a rash temper was a reckless sister with a rash temper who also happened to detest human males. “It’s just as easy to fall in love with a magical man than a weak one.” She’d want no part of being a sister-in-law to a lowly man, and I had no idea what she might do if she discovered that would be the case. Fernando may be the epitome of strength in the human world—there were bulls named after him, for Pete’s sake—but next to my sister he might as well have all the power of an ant underneath someone’s shoe.

  I stole a glance at my phone, and my insides twisted. For all I knew she had already fried him up like a common piece of bacon.

  At least my brain had finally stopped buzzing, no longer feeling like a bag of burnt microwave popcorn. That clarity allowed me to talk myself out of taking the country roads at a wild pace, endangering all the cows that might have wandered out for a late-night snack.

  At least the streets were devoid of traffic. Even on the freeway, the other drivers had steered clear of me. It was as if they sensed a psychotic bride-to-be behind the wheel.

  When the speed limit dropped to twenty-five, my chest was pounding so hard it was going to leap through my skull. With all the adrenaline coursing through me, I could’ve run faster than this. I clenched my jaw and crept on, crawling into Bigfoot Bay.

  Once I crossed over into the small lake town, everything seemed to change. I was no longer surrounded by acres of barns and farmland but storybook cottages and lush forests. Despite my unfortunate experiences here, I couldn’t deny it was one of the most beautiful places in the world. Too bad it was also one of the wackiest.

  I drove directly to my sister’s shop, Violet’s Soap and Tea Emporium. It wasn’t until I was swinging into a parking spot when I took a quick second to consider how I’d arrived so effortlessly. I left the town when I was below driving age, yet I knew exactly where I was going. Not only that, Violet only had her shop for a couple of years and I’d only seen it in pictures. Huh. The flying monkeys must’ve doubled as a navigation device.

  I rolled my eyes. That’s quite enough, Eve. Of course, I knew how to get around. Downtown Bigfoot Bay was designed like every other downtown small town in America. I got lucky, is all.

  I jumped out of the car and darted up to the door. I had a raging case of nerves that only intensified as I neared the unlit shop. In fact, the entire street was dark and deserted, considering the hour of day and time of year. If it weren’t for the moon, I wouldn’t have even seen my feet in front of me.

  Snowflakes picked that moment to fall, powdering my face as I rattled the locked door. “Violet!” I pounded and yelled, then reeled it in, remembering where I was. Even though it appeared no one was around, it wasn’t wise to make a scene. I’d have to do all my screaming mentally. My sister had converted part of her store into a living space, and it was likely that there were other shop owners who’d done the same. I couldn’t afford to have someone report me for attempted breaking and entering.

  I took a calming breath and peered inside. Not one light was on. I pressed my ear to the frosty window as if expecting to hear something. Anything. By all accounts, it appeared the place was empty. The gnawing sensation eating its way through my gut would not ease up. It was too quiet around here. Eerily quiet. Or maybe I was just used to the nonstop hustle and bustle of the city. Either way, it unnerved me to no end.

  A shrill ring nearly did me in. I vaulted back, slipping on the slick concrete and landing smack on the cold, wet ground. I picked myself up and dusted off. I guess it could’ve been much worse.

  It was then I noticed Fernando’s car wasn’t there. The absence of it hadn’t even registered when I’d first arrived, being in such a tizzy and all. I scanned the street as flakes turned into cubes, pelting into my eyes. An unexpected snowstorm seemed to materialize out of nowhere, but at least it had waited until I arr
ived.

  My vision was limited, but from what I could see, his car was not nearby. Unless he’d parked far down the block, he was gone. That was good, right? It meant I could finally relax again. I chuckled. We had probably unknowingly passed each other on the freeway.

  So then why did my stomach still feel like I’d swallowed rusty razor blades?

  The ringing resumed, startling me once again. It took a moment before I realized what it was and where it was coming from. It was my phone, my jacket pocket. The same phone that had been dead not too long before, lying on my car seat.

  When did I put it in my pocket?

  I pulled it out carefully as if it had teeth, noticing that the battery was now at a hundred percent. Okay, this was just plain ludicrous, and I had no time for it. I needed to get back home to Fernando. I was shivering, I was starving, and I was spent. Worst of all, it appeared I’d overreacted just a tad, and now I had to drive home in a blizzard.

  After staring a while at my ringing cell, I hit Accept. It was my mom, after all. Or at least that was what my screen read. It could have been an impersonating spirit who’d charged up my battery. No, wait… I had that backward. Ghosts drained energy from devices, not replenished them.

  “Hi, Mom. Can I call you back later? This isn’t the best—”

  “Samm.” My mom sighed. “Am I glad I got a hold of you.”

  “Remember it’s… never mind. What’s up?” I’d been going by Eve, my middle name, since I left Bigfoot Bay thirteen years earlier, but did that make any difference to my mom? Nope. No matter how many times I told her to call me Eve, she ignored me. “How’s Dad?”

  “Your father’s fine. He sends his love. But I’ve been trying to reach your sister with no luck. I’ve had the strangest feeling for the past several hours and it’s only getting worse. When was the last time you spoke with her?”