Charms and Chocolate Chips: A Magical Bakery Mystery by Bailey Cates Read Free Book Online Page A

divination. Orange was, among other things, the color of movement and life force, apropos for this evening’s festivities, and the bow clinging to the side of her smooth white pageboy was the same traffic-cone hue as her coat. As they approached, I saw Mimsey’s usual twinkle had been ousted by worry. Lucy watched me with careful eyes as I greeted them, her face relaxing when I smiled at her.
    Wren looked a little better, blinking at me from behind her dark-framed glasses. Her sheepskin coat hung loosely on her thin frame, and tight black leggings emphasized her long legs. “Hi, Katie. Thanks for letting me come tonight. I know covens aren’t traditionally open to outsiders, especially for Sabbat celebrations.”
    I took her arm and led the way inside. “Don’t be silly. You’re not an outsider, Wren. You could be a member of the spellbook club if you wanted.”
    “I keep telling her,” Mimsey said. Heckle squawked his agreement.
    “I know, Gran.”
    “Mimsey, do you think you’ll be warm enough in that coat?” I asked. She looked ready for an arctic expedition, and it was still in the low fifties outside.
    Heckle, until now the perfect gentleman, suddenly squawked, “Sarcasm! Lowest form of humor!”
    “Hush,” Mimsey admonished, but at least she was smiling.
    Inside, Jaida called from the kitchen, “Who wants cider and who wants wine?”
    We all exchanged glances and answered as one: “Wine!”
    As everyone got their drinks, the doorbell rang again. Before I could get there, the door opened and Bianca Devereaux and Cookie Rios entered. The other ladies drifted back out of the kitchen, glasses in hand.
    “Hi, guys,” I said.
    “Hello,” Cookie said, the lilt of her Haitian accent evident even in the one word. She took off her long leather coat to reveal a form-fitting dress the same jade as her eyes. These days her long dark hair was highlighted with subtle blue streaks. She was a few years younger than me, but I felt sure she possessed an old soul.
    Tall and elegant, Bianca wore a long black cloak like Lucy’s. It was pretty traditional garb for workings, especially outside. As she was more traditional than any of us, Bianca looked the most like what the majority of people thought a traditional witch should look—long black hair, pale skin, penetrating green eyes, and a tendency to wear clothes that swirled and flowed around her. Funny that she was closest to Cookie, the one most likely to break the rules and ignore the Rule of Three.
    Though the more I practiced, the more good and bad kept getting mixed up.
    Now Bianca shook her head. “Oh, Wren. I’m so sorry for your loss.” She held out a basket that held a hefty bottle of champagne and seven carefully wrapped flutes.
    Wren took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
    As I reached to relieve her of the basket, I saw two bright eyes looking out from inside the collar of Bianca’s cloak. A tiny black nose quivered, then disappeared.
    “I see you brought a friend,” I said.
    Her lips curved into a gentle smile. “Puck,” she said softly, “come out and meet the spellbook club.”
    The nose appeared again, then the head, snow-white except for a Zorro mask of black fur around the eyes. In a liquid flash he slithered around Bianca’s neck and down her arm to the cloak’s pocket where he resumed watching us with those dark, assessing eyes.
    Puck was a ferret.
    “Oh, he’s darling,” Lucy exclaimed. “How did he find you?” She asked because of course familiars find their witches, not the other way around. Mungo had shown up at the carriage house the first day I’d arrived there.
    “He came into Moon Grapes this afternoon—from where, I have no idea. I was in my office working on the books when my assistant started shrieking like a madwoman. I ran out front and found her standing on a chair. She thought this little guy was a rat.” Bianca’s smile widened, and she stroked the sleek head. Puck leaned into her hand. “He came right up to me