Magical Misfire Read online

  Berkley titles by Kimberly Frost

  Southern Witch Series

  WOULD-BE WITCH

  BARELY BEWITCHED

  HALFWAY HEXED

  MAGICAL MISFIRE

  (A Berkley Sensation Special)

  SLIGHTLY SPELLBOUND

  Novels of the Etherlin

  ALL THAT BLEEDS

  ALL THAT FALLS

  Magical Misfire

  A Special from Berkley Sensation

  Kimberly Frost

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

  USA • Canada • UK • Ireland • Australia • New Zealand • India • South Africa • China

  penguin.com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  MAGICAL MISFIRE

  A Berkley Sensation Special / published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright © 2014 by Kimberly Chambers.

  Excerpt from Slightly Spellbound by Kimberly Frost copyright © 2014 by Kimberly Chambers.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group.

  BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-101-62319-0

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation Special / April 2014

  Cover art by Tony Mauro.

  Cover design by Rita Frangie.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Version_1

  Contents

  Berkley titles by Kimberly Frost

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Excerpt from Slightly Spellbound

  1

  The trouble with transporting doll-sized human beings in a Barbie carrying case across Texas is there’s just no good explanation if you get caught. That’s why I should not have been breaking three laws on the open road.

  “Oh no!” I cried, spotting the twirling flashers atop the state trooper’s cruiser. “Was I speeding? Isn’t the speed limit seventy?” I glanced at my speedometer. Seventy-two miles per hour and falling. The second I’d seen the trooper, my foot had jerked off the gas pedal as if it were on a hot burner, but I bet he’d clocked me doing seventy-five. That was broken law number one.

  “Hellfire and biscuits!” I snapped, glancing to the backseat where the carrier case sat. The lid was unlocked so the occupants could sit up from time to time, which left me vulnerable. I had not planned on getting pulled over. I blame that on the International House of Pancakes.

  I’d spotted an IHOP billboard advertising cheesecake pancakes and my foot had turned to lead. My subconscious felt that cheesecake as a breakfast food was long overdue and that I should proceed immediately toward those designer pancakes. I momentarily forgot the ticking time bomb in the backseat.

  When law enforcement approached the car, the pair of doll-sized divas might, at any moment, raise the case cover and tell the trooper I’d hexed them and kept them prisoner. That sounds like two broken laws, but technically there are no laws against shrinking your enemies and carrying them around in a pink Barbie carrying case. That much I know for sure.

  I didn’t kidnap them, either. In point of fact, they’d attempted to kidnap me and had been darn unpleasant about it. Forced into taking steps, I’d tried a magic spell, just to defend myself. The next thing we all knew, I’d whammied them into a whiskey bottle. It was pretty surprising.

  Also surprising was that after twenty-two attempts with the help of an expert wizard, no spell that I’d tried had turned them back to normal size. The best I’d been able to accomplish was to increase their size from bite-sized to Barbie-sized, which is why I’d felt compelled to keep them captive, which as you might know, is illegal. So on the Saturday afternoon in December when the trooper pulled me over, holding my tiny enemies prisoner was broken law number two.

  “Mercutio, jump in the back and sit on that case. I can’t have Jenna and Lucy getting out while I’m talking to the Texas trooper. Hurry!”

  Mercutio, my cat, surveyed me skeptically. A few hours earlier I’d kept Mercutio from eating the pint-sized occupants of the case. They’d been trying to escape their current residence, a Barbie Malibu Dreamhouse that I’d paid more than a hundred dollars for.

  Since they were small and sneaky, Mercutio considered them fair game. He hunted them by instinct, and it was only luck that I’d spotted Lucy’s dark head poking out from behind the periwinkle living room drapes at the same time Merc stalked over to pounce. It had been a day of close calls.

  I looked at Merc, who hadn’t moved from the passenger seat.

  “Mercutio! C’mon! The police will take me to jail. Seriously. I’ll be locked up and they won’t let you visit. They might try to lock you up, too. But not with me.”

  Jenna and Lucy had perhaps heard my raised voice because the case twitched on the seat and the lid lifted an inch.

  I chewed my lip nervously. I couldn’t keep driving like I hadn’t seen the lights. That might make the officer angry and suspicious.

  “Merc!” I said, pulling onto the shoulder and turning off the engine.

  Mercutio relented, springing into the backseat and pouncing on the case. The cover thumped down as faint squeaks of fury came from beneath. Mercutio curled up on the case, covering it completely.

  “Um, Mercutio? Remember how you’re an ocelot? It’s illegal in Texas to have an exotic pet. Not that I own you. Nobody does!” I tucked my hair behind my ear as the door of the police cruiser opened. “But a state trooper won’t understand about you being my friend rather than my pet.”

  Merc cocked his striped head and fixed his big eyes on me.

  “So, you know, pretend to be tame. And look . . . small.” Having an ocelot copilot was broken law number three.

  I licked my lips and rested my weaponless hands on the steering wheel in plain view. No digging in the glove box or my purse, not even for my driver’s license, until the cop gave the word. I used to be married to a deputy. It makes them twitchy when someone they’re confronting about a crime starts reaching for something.

  “Evening, ma’am,” the trooper said. He was a short bull of a man in his thirties who smelled of tangy aftershave and cigarettes.

  “Evening.”

  “Where are you headed in such a hurry?”

  “Galveston.”

 
“Long drive. Why are you going there?”

  To find a dead harlot, I thought. “To attend the Dickens on The Strand festival,” I said. It wasn’t a flat-out lie. I did have to go to the festivities to meet a ghost named Sally O’Shea.

  “Is that this weekend?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Let me see your license.”

  I gave it to him. His gaze moved to the rear of the car. Don’t look in the backseat. Don’t look— Shoot!

  “What kind of cat is that?”

  “It’s an ocicat,” I lied. Ocicats are domestic cats that resemble ocelot wildcats. “He’s cute, huh?” I asked, giving the trooper my sweetest smile. Stay still, Mercutio. Don’t let him see your paws. They’re a dead giveaway that you’re not going to stay housecat size.

  The trooper made an “I don’t care for cats” noise, wrinkling his nose. “I’ve got a dog.”

  “Dogs are nice, too. What kind do you have?” I tried to draw his attention back to my face.

  “Mutt,” he said, glancing down at my license.

  I fidgeted in my seat. Merc laid a paw over the side of the case that bumped under him. I heard a faint squeak, and my breath froze in my throat. Merc meowed to cover the noise. The trooper glanced at Merc. My heart thudded hard enough for the pounding to echo in my ears.

  Be quiet, Jenna and Lucy. This whole trip is to help you. If you get me thrown in jail for shrinking you, I’ll be so mad.

  The trooper handed me my ID. “When I ran your plates, the computer said you were arrested not too long ago.”

  “The charges were dropped,” I blurted, a flush staining my cheeks.

  “What were you arrested for?”

  The computer might already have told him, and I couldn’t see the point in lying about it.

  “Indecent exposure.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “I bet there’s a story there.”

  I nodded. “Not a very good one. I hope you’ll be a gentleman and let me avoid telling it.”

  He studied my face a moment. “You sure it was indecent exposure?” he asked. “Not too often a pretty girl gets cited for that.” His eyes traveled over my T-shirt.

  My muscles tightened, anticipating trouble. I’m from a small town, but we’ve got plenty of lawmen and they’re all good. But that doesn’t mean every man with a badge deserves one.

  “Yeah, it surprised me and my boyfriend, too. He’s a deputy.” Technically Zach was not my boyfriend. He had been until I’d married him and then divorced him. So now everyone called him my ex-husband, even when I dated him.

  The deputy raised his eyebrows. “A deputy? Where at?”

  “Duvall, Texas.”

  “Duvall, huh? Y’all have had some incidents out there lately.”

  Yikes, what had the state troopers heard? My heart kicked up a fuss in my chest. I licked my lips and shrugged. “Yeah, bad weather.” And bad witches.

  “If I let you off with a warning, you’ll drive the limit the rest of the way?”

  “Absolutely. I promise.”

  He nodded, wished me a good trip, and returned to his car.

  I exhaled, gripping the steering wheel hard. “Oh. My. Gosh. I am not cut out for this! Breaking one small law, okay,” I said and dug through my purse for a couple of Hershey’s Miniatures to settle my nerves. “Or even two, maybe.” I tore the wrapping off a Krackel, popped it in my mouth, and chewed madly. After swallowing, I said, “But facing a strange trooper while trying to cover up a felony? No,” I said. “A girl’s got to draw the lawbreaking line somewhere.”

  • • •

  It was twilight when I reached the island, and the festival was in full swing. I parked and pulled my luggage from the trunk. Lots of people walked by, a few glancing at Mercutio curiously.

  On the Strand, a historic street, costumed people raced mattresses on wheels down the road while the crowd cheered. Everyone was having so much fun, I was tempted to stop and watch, but instead I convinced Mercutio to hide in my duffel. I needed to smuggle him into the hotel.

  The Tremont House was postcard pretty. The warm lobby overflowed with people who were clustered together, drinking and talking in the shadow of an enormous Christmas tree. A gingerbread replica of the hotel nearly stopped me in my tracks. Culinary creations are my specialty, so I had to pause to admire it.

  “Oh my gosh,” I murmured. “I love iced gingerbread. And so pretty. Merc, I wish you could see how elegant the lobby is. There are white marble floors, wood antiques, and a glossy black piano. Hear it? This place is pretty fancy. I bet I couldn’t even afford a gingerbread version of it.” Mercutio’s weight made my shoulder sag.

  I walked toward the front desk. I’d laid my heavy garment bag over the Barbie case, which I’d secured to my rolling suitcase. All was quiet with my contraband until the duffel thumped against my hip. Merc was restless.

  I whispered, “Be still until we get to the room or we’ll get tossed out of here . . . or worse.” I’d been lucky enough to escape arrest once already today. I’d hate to tempt fate since good luck’s about as reliable as hair spray on a humid day.

  A porter hurried over with a rolling cart.

  “Hey there,” I said, turning over all of my luggage except the duffel. The Barbie case was locked so Jenna and Lucy couldn’t make an unscheduled appearance. The young man, tall and coltishly thin, offered a professional smile.

  “May I help you with that?” he asked, extending a hand.

  Knowing that Merc likes to fight his way out of most situations and might consider a duffel bag a nice warm-up for the evening, I gave the guy a smile and shook my head. “Thank you so much, but I’ll keep this one.” I smoothed wrinkles from my denim miniskirt with my free hand.

  I glanced self-consciously at my scuffed cowboy boots. The lobby was packed with people in Victorian finery, and I felt out of place. The staff, though, must’ve been accustomed to people sauntering in dressed in casual modern clothes because the sweet woman at the counter gave me a wide smile.

  She looked up my room number and gave me the key. Mercutio shifted. The duffel thumped against my hip again and the Barbie case rattled on the cart. I jerked, knocking into the cart gently to make it look like my clumsiness was upsetting the equilibrium of my bags.

  Good grief! We couldn’t get upstairs quick enough.

  “Okay. Lead the way!” I said with extra enthusiasm.

  The young man pulled the cart and asked how long I planned to stay.

  “Just tonight.” I hope.

  The elevator ride and the walk to my door were harried, especially when I went through a cold spot, possibly a ghost, and Mercutio growled from within the duffel. I had to pretend to have a coughing spell to cover the sound. My hand was a little shaky as I slid the metal key into the electronic door lock. A modern version of an old-fashioned key was a nice touch. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  It was a relief to find Bryn already in the room. He’d had a meeting in Houston, lawyer business, so we’d driven separately.

  His movie-star good looks went well with the handsome hotel room. Even though we’d been fighting for days about the trip, when he saw me, he smiled. He rose from the cushioned chair and joined me near the door.

  “Hey,” I said, hair falling in my eyes as I bent to dig through my purse. My wallet was buried beneath a bag of Hershey’s Miniatures and a small spiral notebook full of tips on how to find Galveston ghosts. I dragged the wallet free and pulled it open, but by the time I flung my hair back and thrust out a five-dollar bill, the porter was gone. Bryn closed the door and slid his wallet into his pocket.

  “I had it,” I said, offering the money to Bryn, who ignored it. With an aggressive thrust, the duffel tipped off the bed. My hand shot out to break its fall. I unzipped the bag and Mercutio sprang forth with an indignant yowl.

  “Hello
, Mercutio,” Bryn said as my cat used his leg as a scratching post.

  “Merc,” I said, grabbing him and pulling him away. “Watch those claws! Bryn’s suits cost more than a year’s worth of our car payments.”

  Merc cast an indifferent look at Bryn’s trousers before bounding onto the bed and curling into a ball. He purred with satisfaction and closed his eyes.

  “It was the best of times,” Bryn murmured.

  I grabbed the Barbie case and set it on the dresser. I opened the lid, and Jenna and Lucy sat bolt upright, furious. Their hair was smashed down by mini-marshmallow headbands that I’d insisted on for protection.

  Jenna shrieked, “Took you long enough!”

  “It was the worst of times,” Bryn said.

  I giggled. “‘Best of times, worst of times.’ . . . That’s from A Tale of Two Cities?”

  Bryn nodded and smirked at Jenna’s sputtering. “Nice headgear.”

  Lucy glowered, flipping me off, and Jenna sprang to her feet, teetering on her plastic heels. Her fluffy pink dress went surprisingly well with the white marshmallow. She looked like a slightly melted confection.

  “You should be ashamed of yourselves!” Jenna screeched, smearing marshmallow on Bryn’s papers, trying to wipe the stickiness off her hands. “I expect low-class foolishness from the likes of her, but I expect more of you, Bryn Lyons.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you do, and the loss of your good opinion keeps me awake at night. I lose thirty, maybe forty whole seconds of sleep because of it.” Bryn moved his documents aside.

  “How dare you joke when you know what we’re going through? All because of that little witch!”

  “Not all because of her,” Bryn said.

  “You defend her?” she shouted.

  Bryn’s cobalt gaze narrowed and he opened his mouth, but I cut him off.

  “Settle on down, Jenna. You know you guys deserved to get shrunk. You tried to kidnap me at gunpoint in front of a carful of kindergarteners,” I said, raising my voice when she started screaming at me. “But you don’t see me holding grudges. I brought you and Lucy here hoping to restore you to full size. I’ve got a line on a ghost who knows spells to make people big or small. Now quiet down or I’ll give you a time-out in your pink Barbie case.”