A Bewitching Spell by Constance Barker Book Read Online And Epub File Download
Overview: A Witch, a Ghoul and a Racoon Shifter Walk Into a Bar
Clarice, aka Click, is a witch who was accidentally or intentionally institutionalized. She can't remember which. Her former roommate in said institution, Sherry, aka Scatter and raccoon shifter, decides to bust her out. And Walter, a ghoul and former employee of the institute decides to join the little adventure. And what do three paranormal figures need...a mundane private investigator named Maribel.
The paranormal peeps decide to build their own private eye business investigating supernatural phenomenon, but are dragged into an actual murder. Could the killing be connected to the supernatural? Or have our heroes wandered onto an evil that is more mundane?
And who had Clarice sent to the institute? Did her supernatural powers make people believe she was out of her mind, or is someone trying to keep her from discovering her true potential.
Sherry has her own problems. Shifting into not one raccoon but three has its own rewards and downfalls. And Walter, being the ghoul he is, has to feed on dead souls. He is a Grateful Dead fan for sure. And Maribel, being the only non-paranormal has her hands full juggling the circus she's found herself in.
A Bewitching Spell by Constance Barker Book Read Online Chapter One
Rectangles the color of streetlight decorated the chamber. Clarice rose from her drug-induced sleep. What had roused her? In the other bed, Sammy the Snake slept peacefully. No snoring, no somniloquy. Beyond sleeping Sammy, bars shrouded the window. A shadow moved. Then another. Then a third. Tiny hands pushed the window open.
Clarice blinked a few times. She was drugged, but on the psych ward, they rarely gave you hallucinogens when you suffered delusions. The shapes became defined in a rhombus of light. Three raccoons.
So Scatter was serious...
One raccoon hopped up on the bed. It sniffed Clarice’s face. Then it turned its clever hands to removing the bands restraining her wrists. A second raccoon widened the partly open door, looking both ways. It scampered out onto the ward. The third opened a drawer, removing sweatpants and a T-shirt. It brought these, one at a time to the bed.
“Is that you, Scatter?” Clarice breathed.
Once her hands were free, she sat up. The staff hadn’t bothered with other restraints. Clarice swung her legs off the bed. She reached for the sweatpants, but the raccoon that had fetched them slapped at her. The one who had freed her stuck his head in the T-shirt and burrowed in until its head popped out the neck hole.
The third raccoon raced back in the room, something in its mouth. It leapt on the bed, dropping its prize. In a moment, it joined the fetching-animal inside the sweatpants. Clarice looked at what the animal dropped. It was a magnetic key card. Even her foggy brain recognized a prison break.
For a few moments, the raccoons writhed around their stolen garments. The peeking out head made a very human grimace. Fur retracted as the face grew. Arms poked out of the sleeves. Feet poked out of the sweatpants legs. A sound like dozens of cracked knuckles accompanied the change.
“Ugh,” Scatter grunted, putting a hand to her shaved head. She looked down at herself, giving her body a pat. “Good. Everything in the right place.”
Clarice stood up, steadying herself with a hand on the bed. She gave Scatter the hairy eyeball. “Those are my clothes. What am I supposed to wear?”
Scatter, her real name was Sherry, wore the garments like parachutes. She was a shifter who shifted into three raccoons...not one, but three. Despite that she was a small-boned woman. Flapping the sleeves at Clarice, she said, “How big do you think I am? At least you have socks.”
Clarice wiggled her toes in the hospital socks. “Sure, but my butt’s hanging out of this hospital gown.”
“I’m not a detail-oriented person,” Scatter said. “You good to walk, Click?”
Click. Sherry’s nickname for Clarice. Scatter and Click, supernatural investigators, or at least that was the plan once they got out. Well, here they went. Clarice, Click, took a few experimental steps. Wobbly, she thought, but she felt confident she wouldn’t fall.
The nurses’ station overlooked the dark, empty ward, the only source of light other than the exit signs. Exit was where they headed. Click flipped the card against the reader. The door opened. She cast a look over her shoulder. No one noticed.
Scatter held up the sweatpants with one hand and padded down the hall. Elevators. What floor were they on? Click couldn’t remember being committed. She and Scatter looked back at the ward. A sign on the door read: Elopement Risk. Click flapped the badge against the elevator button.
Ding.
Trouble.
Walter, the tall, angular orderly, stood inside the car. He gazed at the escapee and her accomplice without emotion. “You should go back to your room, Clarice.”
“We’re busting out,” Scatter said.
“I should escort you,” Walter said. “They might fire me if I let you go. Of course, this is a government job. They probably couldn’t fire me if I set the place on fire. See what I did there?”
Click and Scatter shook their heads.
“I’m not good at humor,” Walter said.
“Let us go, Walter. We don’t belong here,” Scatter said. “You know it.”
He nodded. “But you’re the only interesting patients. Everyone else is gorked out and boring.”
Something went click in Click’s head. “Come with us, then. We’re going to be supernatural investigators.”
“You do have a supernatural smell to you, Walter,” Scatter mused.
His face didn’t change. Was he pondering the idea? The elevator door started to close. His hand whipped out and stopped it. “I smell?”
“I have heightened raccoon senses,” Scatter said. “You don’t smell like BO or anything. Just different.”
“Different, as in not human?” Walter’s eyes shifted between them.
Scatter side-eyed Click. Click shrugged.
“Yes...” Scatter drew the word out.
After what seemed like a really long time, given they were escaping a mental ward, Walter stepped aside. They hurried into the elevator. “It’s something I try to hide,” Walter said.
“No need to hide anything from us,” Scatter said. “I’m a Scav, a raccoon shifter. Click here is a witch. The genuine article.”
“This true, Clarice?”
“Call me Click,” Click said. “We’re on a mission. Frankly, I can’t remember much. They kept me doped up for a while.’
The elevator descended. Click saw that she’d been kept on the third floor. Must’ve been quite a climb for raccoons. “Supernatural investigator,” Walter said. “Ironic.”
“Hiding in plain sight,” Scatter said.
“How are we escaping?” Walter said. “I left my bus pass in my locker.”
Click looked at Scatter. How were they escaping?
“I got it worked out. We just need to get past the guard at the admissions desk,” Scatter said. “Which I haven’t fully thought through.”
“What?” Click whispered.
“I’m not a detail-oriented person,” Scatter said.
“Probably wouldn’t look good, me walking you to freedom,” Walter said. “Might arouse suspicion.”
A wave of fear washed through Click. No way did she want to go back on the ward. She wasn’t crazy. Just different. Adrenalin sobered her slightly. Click. Something half-remembered surfaced in her mind.
“I got this,” she said.
The elevator doors opened on the ground floor. Behind a desk shielded with bullet proof glass, a guard in gray rose to his feet. “Hey!”
Click raised her arms over her head, her face to the ceiling. Drawing on an inner reserve of chilly energy, she recited:
“With sandman sand and sleepy seed
A good night’s rest is what you need!”
Florescent lights flashed like lightning. The guard’s knees went weak. His head rested on the desk. In the room behind him, a thud sounded. Someone else knocked out. Oops.
“Go,” Scatter shouted.
The three of them bolted for the door. Outside, a convertible roared over to the entrance, tires barking as it slid to a stop. A woman stared at them from the driver’s seat. “Three of you? The T-bird’s a two-seater!”
“This is the getaway car?” Click said. “There were already two of us before Walter, Scatter.”
“You saying I’m fat?” Scatter shrugged.
“Guess I’ll have to sit on your lap,” Walter looked down at Click.
Click could only stare at him.
“I’m not good at humor,” Walter said.
“Here,” Scatter hopped around and stripped off the sweatpants. She handed them to Click. “Cover your ass.” In a moment, the shirt fell to the pavement. Three raccoons freed themselves from the T-shirt and clambered into the small space behind the two seats.
Click hopped around, getting into the sweatpants.
“Somebody sit on somebody’s lap,” the driver said. “We gotta go now.”
“I don’t think the seatbelt will fit around two people at once,” Walter said.
“Come on!” the driver shouted.
Walter slowly hiked his shoulders. He slid into the passenger seat, his knees up around the dashboard. It didn’t make for a comfortable seat but Click got on his lap. The car leaped forward before they could get the door closed.
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