Witchdependence Day: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Shorts Book 8) by Amanda M. Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

though. She was whistling and swinging a big stick.”
    “Oh … um … maybe she was sleepwalking.”
    Landon rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “There’s only one reason she would be out here, and we both know what it is.”
    “I have no idea,” I said, hoping my expression reflected confusion instead of subterfuge. “You have that keen investigative mind, though. You’re probably one step ahead of me. Heck, you’re probably ten steps in front of me.”
    “Knock it off,” Landon said. “What’s going on at Aunt Tillie’s pot field? Why are you here?”
    “I’m here because I love a good walk in the morning.”
    “Liar.”
    “I do,” I said, committing to my story though it didn’t make a lick of sense. “I find the best way to start a day is with a brisk walk.”
    Landon wasn’t going to let it go. “Why didn’t you walk around the stables?”
    “The storm made it really muddy.”
    “It’s muddy here.”
    “Not as muddy as the stables,” I said.
    Landon knit his eyebrows. “Just tell me what Aunt Tillie is up to,” he said. “If something bad is about to happen, I need to know.”
    I got his worry. Something bad always seemed to happen. Trying to stay ahead of it was never going to work, though. Trying to stay ahead of Aunt Tillie was something akin to running through a vat of superglue. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
    “You suck,” Landon muttered, lifting his head when he heard Bay yell his name. “I guess it’s time for breakfast. Would you like to walk up to the inn with us?”
    “I should finish my walk.”
    “Right.” Landon blew out a frustrated sigh. “I’m going to figure out what’s going on. I hope you know that.”
    “Good luck with that.” I clapped his shoulder, remaining rooted to my spot until I saw him join with Bay on the path leading back to the inn. She was giggly when she found him, her smile bright. They clearly had had a good night.
    “They’re gross, right?”
    I jumped when I heard Aunt Tillie’s voice behind me. She was near enough to crawl inside of me if she deemed it necessary. “You should wear a bell or something,” I said, turning to face her. “By the way, Bay and Landon are very cute.”
    “I didn’t say they weren’t cute. I said they were gross.”
    “I don’t think something can be gross and cute at the same time,” I argued.
    “How about bats?” Aunt Tillie never met an argument she was willing to lose.
    “I stand corrected,” I said, hoping to move things along. “What’s the big crisis?”
    “Someone tried to break into the field last night,” Aunt Tillie said, leading me toward her private garden. “The wards held, but whoever it was meant business.”
    “How do you know that?” I asked, genuinely curious. I shivered as we crossed the magical barrier that shielded her field. I couldn’t see it, but I always felt it.
    “I put a spell on the field,” Aunt Tillie answered, shooting me a “well, duh” look. “I already told you that.”
    “I understand that,” I said, tugging on my limited patience. “I want to know how you’re aware someone tried to cross the barrier. I mean … do you have an alarm?”
    “Kind of,” Aunt Tillie said. “It’s more of a feeling than anything else. You can set an alarm, but it gets annoying if you forget to change the ringtone. There’s only so many times you can hear Eminem talk about losing himself before you want to lose your mind.”
    Aunt Tillie’s taste in music was as eclectic as her wardrobe. I took the opportunity to look over her lavender pajamas and matching sleep hat, marveling at her audacity to walk around in the outfit. She didn’t care what anyone thought about her. It was an admirable – if sometimes annoying – trait. “So you just know they tried to cross the barrier multiple times last night?”
    “Basically,” Aunt Tillie replied, gesturing toward the far side of the field. “They came in from that direction and