spies and spells 02 - betting off dead Read Online Free

wonderful great auntie who likes to make sure her great niece is super happy and isn’t stuck with Abram Callahan when she’d much rather be talking to Mick Jasper.” It was my way of asking her to keep my little meeting with Mick a secret. “Besides,” I lifted my hand in the air. “There’s nothing to tell. He only wants to talk to me this afternoon.”
    I twirled my wrist to the right and then Auntie Meme grabbed it, flinging it down to my side. She grabbed the bag of ingredients from my other hand.
    “No magic.” Her eyes were alight like a fire, somewhat like an arsonist’s. “I told you no magic. Fill the condiments yourself.”
    “What good is being a witch if we can’t use our magic?” I walked past her and grabbed the condiment caddie from underneath the counter. “Seriously, with the swipe of my hand.”
    “You and I both know that there are people everywhere that could be walking by and happen to see you do the tiniest bit of magic and then we’d be exposed.” She sauntered back to the kitchen and disappeared into the kitchen where she did her life’s journey. “You can never use magic in the real world, Maggie. Even when you figure out your life’s journey.”
    I walked around the retro diner, going from table to table filling up the sugar, salt, and pepper shakers. I placed a napkin in front of each chair along with a fork, spoon, knife and a frosted plastic cup. Each table had their own retro design and they all had the metal stripping around the edges with metal chairs with the plastic-sparkly chair seats. The black-and-white tile floor finished The Brew’s retro diner look Auntie Meme was going for.
    “So,” I nagged at Auntie Meme to get the heat off of me. “What on Earth were you fighting with Mrs. Hubbard about so early this morning?”
    Auntie popped her head through the window between the kitchen and the dining room. Her cheeks were sprinkled with flour and her hair looked as if she’d dusted underneath a couch, which was out of her character since most of her cooking was done with magic. I eyed her suspiciously.
    “That old bat.” Auntie Meme’s hand flew up in the air, a spark of lightning shot out, exploding into a tiny firework with a bat popping out of it. I ducked when it flew over my head. I ran toward the door and pushed it open just in time for the creature to fly out.
    “I guess you are mad,” I snorted. “What on Earth did she do?”
    “I had a hankerin’ something was wrong when I didn’t receive my package I ordered. I should fuss at my ownself because I knew I should’ve ordered it from a coven instead of that big online retailer everyone squawks about, especially since the neighborhood gossip circle wonders why we never get packages in the mail or the mailman never stops.” She tsked.
    We didn’t receive mail or even know what it was about. In fact, we didn’t even have a mailbox, but for all the gossip circle of Belgravia Court knew we might’ve had a P.O. Box, even though we didn’t.
    “Anyways, I need a special vase for the spell circle. It was guaranteed to do the trick and there was only one left on that online retailer. I did the mortal thing and ordered, anxiously awaiting the delivery man to deliver it around the four o’clock afternoon time so when those henny-hens were gathered and clucking away, they’d see us getting a package.” Auntie Meme’s eyes hooded like a hawk. “I was too late getting home yesterday to get my package. There was this note on the door.” She pulled a yellow slip of paper from her apron and held it through the pass-through window.
    I walked over and took it from her. The slip said they’d delivered the package to the neighbor.
    “You know I don’t like to socialize much, so I went door-to-door on Belgravia Court asking if any of them had my package. Not a single one said yes or admitted to it. But I got me a clue.”
    When she said clue a pain struck my heart with a sick and fiery gnaw that told me Auntie