Underworld, Undead & Undercover Excerpt

ONE

The January air is crisp and chilly, and my breath forms into a mist as I reach the door to my bakery and catering business, A Taste of Magic. The sun is casting a soft glow over the parking lot, casting hues of pink and gold. I pull my bag higher on my shoulder as I enter. With a slight wave to the table by the window where the group of older residents we call the Morning Club sits with their coffees and sweet treats, I already have my to-do list for the day running through my head. The smell of fresh bread, cinnamon rolls, and scones fills the air. Today is the day—the one where I don’t allow the tears to come.

Thank goodness for Archon Von-Jones, my newest employee, who came to me after working for another bakery a few towns away for over ten years. He has only been working for me for the past two and a half months, but he has been a godsend, taking over all morning baking with a skill that left the customers raving. I don’t know what I would do if he didn’t handle this aspect of my business. It is hard enough to function in the mornings after being up most of the night, let alone coming into the shop before the sun rises to bake.

I pass my other employee, Stephanie Davis, who effortlessly assists a mermaid with her order. She has grown so much since she started working for me. Once an outcast due to her being a banshee, she has now become an integral part of A Taste of Magic and the community. I’m grateful for the team I have assembled. They are a small beacon of normalcy in my life right now.

The yellow walls glow softly from the early morning sun streaming through the two large windows on either side of the door. The sunlight casts long shadows across the white floors and dances across the countertops.

As I pass through the swinging metal door to the back of the bakery, a frown replaces my previous display of happiness. The usual morning rhythm starkly contrasts the ache in my heart from missing Brandon. The warmth from the ovens seeps into my body, but doesn’t chase away the icy chill I have had for the past two and a half months. The night since Brandon Phillips, my vampire boyfriend of only a few months, was taken away from me and pulled into the Underworld by his deceased ex-girlfriend, of all people.

Tears try to form in my eyes as Archon goes to wave a hand. I only shake my head as I rush into my office, closing the door behind me. I plop into my chair, letting my bag fall to the floor. Inhaling deep breaths keeps the tears from fully forming.

These months have been miserable. Not having any idea whether Brandon will return to me is torture. And then there is the unknown about what he is dealing with in the Underworld….

From the moment I watch his body crumple to the ground after touching Rebecca Ashwood, who has been dead for two years, all I think about is how we are going to get him back.

My grandmother and great-aunt have been tapping all of their sources to find ways to get him back. Plus, my friend and Paranormal Council agent, Grissel Wells, has been using her access to magical artifacts to find a solution. It is strange how she has grown from someone I was suspicious about to one of my closest allies in a short time. But the hope is slowly fading after two and a half months.

A knock on the door pulls me back to the present.

Archon sticks his head in, his short black hair appearing to absorb the light as his brown eyes lock on mine. “Got a minute?” he asks.

“Of course.” I quickly put my bag in the proper place, trying to act like I hadn’t been reliving the recurring nightmare. “Is there is something wrong?”

“The morning went well, as usual.” When he enters the office, the vampire holds a small plate he places in front of me, holding a treat. “I tried a new way to make a quiche recipe and wanted to see what you thought.” He holds out a fork.

A smile spreads across my face. “It looks delicious. What’s in it?” I’ve noticed that lately, he has habitually brought some new recipes into my office first thing in the morning. I have a feeling it is his way of making sure that I am eating.

“Spinach, bacon, and cheese.” He leans casually against the frame of the door.

I take a bite, allowing the flavors to excite my tastebuds. “This is good.”

“I thought maybe we could add them to the morning menu. It would be something none-sweet to serve.”

“Good idea.” I take another bite. “Do you think it should only be a winter item?”

“Maybe wait and see how they sell. If they become popular, they could be an all-year thing. We could brainstorm different combinations of flavors for the seasons.”

I glance at the pile of papers on my desk. The awaiting paperwork should be my priority, but baking is my release from the chaos constantly in my head. “Can you show me how to make them?”

“Whenever you want.”

I lean back in my chair. A whirlwind of guilt and gratitude fills me. “Archon, thank you so much for taking over the opening duties. I know it was only supposed to be two days a week.” The vampire has mastered the morning routine I once clung to.

“Don’t think anything of it.” He picks up the now empty plate. “I like coming in every morning and baking. It soothes me.”

I know the feeling. Baking used to be my escape whenever something was bothering me. But lately, even that isn’t helping. Now, I use the endless invoices, supply ordering, and other business tasks as a brick in the wall I try building around my heart against the grief that is always waiting to crash into me. “I owe you a few months of covering the mornings once things return to normal.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I already noticed the extra money on my paycheck.” He crosses his arms. “I told you I didn’t want a raise.”

“Since you’re taking over my job in the morning, you deserve it. Plus, you’ve been helping me by handling the cooking for a few catering jobs.”

His hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “Samantha, we all know how difficult things have been. And we’re all here to help you.”

I glance at my hands. “But it shouldn’t be your responsibility to do things I should be doing. Things need to return to normal whether Bra…..” The tears form in my eyes again. Why can’t I go one day without tears?

“I have a batch of the quiches in the oven and need to get them out. I thought you might want to see what the Morning Club thinks about them.”

I’m thankful he doesn’t mention my emotions. “Get them all ready, and I’ll take them out. If I don’t say hi when they’re here, I won’t hear the end of it.”

Archon leaves me to settle in for the day. I quickly unload my bag and boot up my laptop before returning to the kitchen. The smells of the buttery crusts with the scents of the creamy cheese and fresh spinach mingle in the air. Archon has a tray of the little savory custard pies already prepared.

“When I’m done with them, we can have a baking session,” I say. I am already thinking about putting on my apron and working beside him as he teaches me his recipe.

His eyebrows go up. “Really? Don’t you have an order to get in?”

“The order can wait. I need to get my baking on. And you’re going home early. You deserve the rest of the day off.” I grab the tray and rush out of the kitchen to the front of the bakery before he can protest.

The Morning Club is still gathered around one of the large windows for their morning gossip session. They divide their time between here and my Great-Aunt Molly’s diner in the restaurant next door.

The six oldest residents of Moonflower, representing each of the town’s major paranormal factors, are the gossip’s keepers. Anyone wanting information about things happening in Moonflower stops in to talk to them. I have used them several times when investigating murders I’ve found myself involved in. And since they were at Molly’s Diner every morning as I was growing up, they have become somewhat of a fixture in my life.

“Archon created a new breakfast item.” I hold up the tray. “How about being tasters?”

Chuck Tillman, the camo-wearing werewolf, uses his foot to push out an empty chair. “Only if you sit here with us while we do it.” Out of all the members at the table, he is the one I have spent the most time with. This is mainly because he was at Molly’s Diner every morning and close friends with my high school boyfriend’s family. Plenty of Saturdays of my teenage years were spent with him.

“Absolutely,” Edith Goodwin, the grandmotherly member of the group, says as her light-pink wings flap behind her. “You’ve been stopping at the table briefly but haven’t taken time to really chat.”

Loraine Conner, the gnome who shows up the least, waves her hand at Edith. “Don’t pressure the poor girl to talk. She has a lot on her plate.”

“It’s no problem. I would love to sit and talk for a little while.” I take the offered seat and place the tray in the middle of the table.

Each group member reaches out to take one of the plates. It is only moments before the group becomes silent, their mouths filling with the quiches.

Stephanie comes over to fill their coffees, making sure not to go between their food and their mouths. “I’m taking the group’s quietness as an indication that you like Archon’s new menu selection,” she says. She gets her replies in nods instead of words.

I enjoy the only sounds being the click of forks against plates and the satisfied sighs of the group, already knowing that the questions coming in my direction will involve Brandon’s absence. This is why I haven’t taken the time to sit with the group. The thought of sitting down with them to dive into the local gossip and pretending not to feel the weight of Brandon’s absence was more than I could bear.

Chuck is the first one to break the silence. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing.” How do I explain that every day is a battle between hope and grief?

Arthur Dunlap, the self-proclaimed descendant of Merlin, puts a pipe in his mouth. “Any word on the Sheriff?” He pulls it out when he notices the look I send his way.

“We agreed not to mention you-know-who.” Penny Finley slaps at his arm. Her always-styled long red hair gives the appearance that it is soaking wet, a trait of mermaids.

“It’s fine.” I clear my throat to prevent tears from appearing. “And, no, no word on Brandon.”

Bob Turner holds his mug in his small leprechaun hands. “Hopefully, he comes back soon. I can’t stand Joseph being in charge of the sheriff’s office. The other day, I went in to report an issue with my neighbor, and he blew me off.”

I stop myself from saying that it may have something to do with him being in the station at least every other day with one complaint after another. “Next time, try to speak with Lee Kelly. I’m sure he’ll be friendlier. He graduated with me and Ethan.”

“I’ll remember that,” Bob says. “I might have to stop by this afternoon about the noise from Heather’s shop. People were coming in and out of there at four this morning.”

My head snaps in his direction. “Heather, as in my ex-employee Heather? Her shop is open?”

“It opened the other day.” Edith flattens her napkin with her hand and then starts to fold it. “One of the women in my garden club said it wasn’t that great.”

I shake my head. Heather Brown was one of my first employees. Her employment hadn’t been the best, ending with her giving me a hard time about working overtime in the middle of searching for my kidnapped daughter. I fired her that day. Since then, she has found a way to open her own business, going as far as weaseling around my grandmother, the mayor’s, permission.

“Good for her,” is all I can say.

The chime above the door goes off as a werewolf I know very well comes in. He pulls sunglasses from his eyes as he searches the room. Van Finch is the epitome of handsome, only second to my boyfriend. A smile spreads across his face when his eyes meet mine. He strolls over to the table, placing a hand on Chuck’s shoulder.

“What is going on here?” he asks.

“Samantha is treating us with a new breakfast item.” Penny bats her lashes at the man who is at least half her age. “Why don’t you join us?”

“I would love to, but I need to head off to a meeting. I just wanted to speak with Samantha for a moment.”

Fear ripples through me. Did something happen to one of our girls? “Let’s go to my office,” I say. His daughter, Destiny, and my daughter became best friends almost the moment Becca and I returned to Moonflower. They have been known to occasionally have issues with their magic, leading to calls from school.

“Are the girls okay?” I ask as he follows me to the back.

“They’re fine.”

My hands shake as I take my seat at the desk. He takes the other chair, hanging his glasses on his shirt. “It’s nothing bad.”

He knows me better than anyone, mainly because we were in a relationship for a big part of high school. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t had a bad night not long after I left for college and slept with the worst person in town?

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He places a hand on my knee. “I just wanted to check on you. I heard you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

I sigh. Becca must have been talking to Destiny after finding me staring at the still-up Christmas tree last night. “It was one night. I had a nightmare, that’s all.”

“From my understanding, it has been more than one night. Becca says Grover’s complaining about you interfering with his evenings.”

Grover is the small brown bat who became part of our family after Becca found him injured outside her bedroom window on her fourteenth birthday. He wasn’t just any bat, but a talking one because before he was a bat, he was a vampire. He crossed a witch, and she cursed him to live as the small mammal for the rest of his life.

“Of course he is.” I shake my head. “Grover has only been living with us for less than a year, but I swear he thinks he owns the place, especially at night.”

“How many nights have you been having the nightmares?” He leans forward, looking me in the eyes.

I look away, lowering my voice. “Every night since Brandon’s been gone.”

“Do Rosa and Molly know about them?”

I nod. “They’ve given me a few potions, but nothing works.” I grab a pile of the papers, tapping them on the desk to line them all up. “I don’t want Becca worrying, though.”

“She isn’t the only one worrying. I also heard that you’re spending every evening at the hospital.” His eyebrows go up. “Maybe that is the reason you’re having nightmares. It can’t be good for you.”

I jerk in his direction. “What do you want me to do? Leave Brandon to waste away in the hospital, alone, until we’re able to get his soul back?”

“You know he isn’t in his body. His consciousness is in the Underworld. You being there for hours talking to him isn’t doing anything.”

Tears form in my eyes. I squeeze them shut briefly, trying to keep them at bay. “You don’t understand. It’s my only connection to him…. I’m not ready to let go.”

Van doesn’t say anything; he just leans back in the chair.

It isn’t like I don’t understand that spending hours every evening with my boyfriend’s empty body isn’t good for me, but I can’t do anything else. With Becca spending her evenings helping on George Taylor’s ranch to care for the beautiful dragon who lives there, being in the empty house isn’t easy. Being at Brandon’s bedside gives me at least a small amount of hope. Every breath he takes and every beat of his heart gives me the hope to continue searching for a way to get him home.