A Witch Before Dying: A Wishcraft Mystery Read Online Free Page B

her throat, nipped at his ankle, and then backed away from Nick. His eyebrows drew downward as he watched her saunter over to sniff at the front bushes. “What’s wrong with her?”
    “I don’t know.” It wasn’t like her to be aggressive toward—or to walk away from—Nick. “We saw a cat earlier—maybe it’s hiding in the shrubs. Or she didn’t like your decision to join the police force.” I wasn’t too sure how I was feeling about it, either. “Mimi’s not scared?” I asked. Because suddenly, as I looked at the gun at his hip and imagined it being used against him, I was terrified.
    “I suspect she is. A little. But she said she knew how much I wanted to do it. She did give me a stern lecture on being careful, and then admitted it was hard to be too afraid when I was driving a tiny bright yellow car.”
    She had a point. The cars had also been part of the village police force overhaul. Nick was driving a yellow and black MINI Cooper emblazoned with the Enchanted Village logo (complete with the silhouette of a witch on a broomstick) that had been retrofit into a police car, complete with internal computer system and safety partition between the front and back seats. Sylar had deemed the new cars “tourist friendly.” He believed the old, traditional police cruisers hurt the village’s image by imbuing fear among visitors. The new cars proclaimed that there was no need for tourists to think any big bad wolves lived in the village. Though, as I had found out the hard way, sometimes they did.
    But Sylar was right about the MINI Coopers being tourist friendly. No one was going to be fearful when they saw one monitoring the streets. And it was also his idea to buy four MINI Coopers in varying cuddly colors—yellow, light blue, purple, pink. But the thought of hunky Nick behind the wheel of one made me smile. Big.
    “What’s so funny?” he asked.
    I rocked on my heels and tried to tame my smile. “Nothing.”
    Sylar, as the grand hoo-ha, also believed starchy police uniforms were off-putting. Instead, the village police dress code consisted of khakis and either a short-sleeved polo shirt or a traditional button-down. Nick wore the former, and a shiny badge was clipped to his belt. I approved of Sylar’s decision, though I wouldn’t have minded seeing Nick in a real uniform.
    There had been some talk in the village about the new changes and people taking them seriously. After all, a colorful MINI Cooper and casual-Friday clothing didn’t exactly garner respect. But I wasn’t worried about that. One look at Nick and people would know who was in charge. Especially when he wasn’t pleased. Like right now.
    A scowl deepened the lines around his mouth—and I had the feeling he knew what I was thinking about him and that car, which made me want to smile wider.
    Nick was only thirty-five, but he had a weathered, lived-a-hard-life look about him. Maybe because when he was a state trooper, he’d been wounded in the line of duty. Maybe because when Melina got sick with pancreatic cancer he’d moved back in with her to help with her care. Maybe because he’d had to watch her die.
    He’d become a single dad, the sole caretaker of his daughter, and the keeper of her biggest secret. Mimi was a Crafter, a Wishcrafter (her mom had been one), but Nick hadn’t known which Craft until a couple of months ago.
    I’d been working with Mimi since then—giving her Wishcraft lessons. I wasn’t the most knowledgeable teacher (I was still learning the Craft myself), but we were doing pretty well.
    “You aren’t going to give up your woodworking, areyou?” He made beautiful handcrafted pieces for the village’s souvenir shops and also for some of the finer furniture stores. It wasn’t just a hobby of his, but something he was truly passionate about. It was his craft, his magic, even though he had no magical powers—just immense talent. He was once a mortal, but when he married Melina and she decided to tell him