Shake Your Green Thing: Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery (Harper “Foxxy” Beck Series Book 2) by Raven Snow
Authors: Raven Snow
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the ground— like a puppet whose strings had been cut..
The sight was too much for me, and I felt sick, the last of my energy leaving me, along with my lunch. A few feet away, Wyatt's hand fell to the ground, the gun with it. The air rushed from his lungs, and I wanted to cry.
Somehow, I managed to pick up the book. It was as heavy as a baby, and I felt every ounce. The words seemed to fall from my mouth of their own accord. The book wanted me to finish, so I had to finish. I didn't matter. Wyatt didn't matter. Only the book mattered.
The spell was cast and the green smoke quickly evaporated, leaving a purple one in its wake. The cauldron was still far above my head, though, and I didn't know how I was going to reach it.
To give myself strength, I looked over at Wyatt and almost stuffed my fist into my mouth in distress. His color was even greener than Belinda's or Cherry's had been, and I couldn't even tell if he was alive.
Not caring if the potion burned me, I scooped up a handful of the purple antidote and shoved it in his mouth. He wouldn't swallow, I realized with a panic. I had to massage his throat, forcing myself to be gentle when I was frantic enough to throttle him if I wasn't careful.
When it finally went down, I stumbled over and got some for myself and then fell on top of Wyatt again. His chest was firm under me, and I could make out the faint movement of him breathing. That felt beautiful to me, and I sighed.
A moment later, he coughed, his hands clenching at his sides. "We win?"
A fresh wave of pain went through me, and I said, "Doesn't feel like it."
"Rarely does, in my experience."
With me collapsed on top of him, Wyatt laid there for a long moment, just focusing on breathing. He probably would've had an easier time of it, too, if I'd been able to roll over. That last bout of victory had done me in, though, and there was nothing left.
"Bennett!"
We flinched at the same time, and then groaned as our injuries caught up to our movements. Above my face, Officer Koser's bloated face came into view. He looked concerned, for which I was oddly touched, but then it became clear he was concerned for Wyatt. It was probably just as well. I don't think I could've handled that complete one eighty in our relationship.
Crouching down, he put a hand on Wyatt's shoulder. "An ambulance is on the way. Did you find an antidote?"
" I found an antidote," I said, more than a little miffed at being ignored. The irritation gave me the strength to roll off Wyatt, but my momentum carried me a little far, and my face smacked against the concrete.
Koser raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know what you found was the antidote?"
Before I could inform him that I'd made the potion, thank you very much, Wyatt cut in. His voice was hoarse, and I could tell he was fighting to stay awake with every breath. "Penny Helbrim had already mixed up a batch when we arrived. She confessed to the murders, and when she tried to attack us, I shot her in self-defense."
I wondered briefly why Wyatt didn't want the police to know I used magic to make an antidote, but I was too tired to really care. Likely, he had a reason. Wyatt was rarely without a reason or a justification, and I personally found that annoying.
Like a hero that refuses to be beaten, Wyatt got to his feet with a slowness that looked painful. Incredibly, he bent down to give me a hand. After giving his shaky stance a dubious look, I struggled to my feet on my own. I wasn't in the mood to be crushed by his body—though that did sound appealing for later— just because he was trying to be chivalrous.
The sirens were blaring now, right on top of us. I marveled at how often I'd been hearing them lately. Maybe it was time to rethink my nosy policy if I wanted to live to see thirty— which was closer than I cared to admit.
Wyatt and I weaved as we walked out of the barn, bumping into each other slightly. After one such painful bump, I told him, "I'm never sleuthing
The sight was too much for me, and I felt sick, the last of my energy leaving me, along with my lunch. A few feet away, Wyatt's hand fell to the ground, the gun with it. The air rushed from his lungs, and I wanted to cry.
Somehow, I managed to pick up the book. It was as heavy as a baby, and I felt every ounce. The words seemed to fall from my mouth of their own accord. The book wanted me to finish, so I had to finish. I didn't matter. Wyatt didn't matter. Only the book mattered.
The spell was cast and the green smoke quickly evaporated, leaving a purple one in its wake. The cauldron was still far above my head, though, and I didn't know how I was going to reach it.
To give myself strength, I looked over at Wyatt and almost stuffed my fist into my mouth in distress. His color was even greener than Belinda's or Cherry's had been, and I couldn't even tell if he was alive.
Not caring if the potion burned me, I scooped up a handful of the purple antidote and shoved it in his mouth. He wouldn't swallow, I realized with a panic. I had to massage his throat, forcing myself to be gentle when I was frantic enough to throttle him if I wasn't careful.
When it finally went down, I stumbled over and got some for myself and then fell on top of Wyatt again. His chest was firm under me, and I could make out the faint movement of him breathing. That felt beautiful to me, and I sighed.
A moment later, he coughed, his hands clenching at his sides. "We win?"
A fresh wave of pain went through me, and I said, "Doesn't feel like it."
"Rarely does, in my experience."
With me collapsed on top of him, Wyatt laid there for a long moment, just focusing on breathing. He probably would've had an easier time of it, too, if I'd been able to roll over. That last bout of victory had done me in, though, and there was nothing left.
"Bennett!"
We flinched at the same time, and then groaned as our injuries caught up to our movements. Above my face, Officer Koser's bloated face came into view. He looked concerned, for which I was oddly touched, but then it became clear he was concerned for Wyatt. It was probably just as well. I don't think I could've handled that complete one eighty in our relationship.
Crouching down, he put a hand on Wyatt's shoulder. "An ambulance is on the way. Did you find an antidote?"
" I found an antidote," I said, more than a little miffed at being ignored. The irritation gave me the strength to roll off Wyatt, but my momentum carried me a little far, and my face smacked against the concrete.
Koser raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know what you found was the antidote?"
Before I could inform him that I'd made the potion, thank you very much, Wyatt cut in. His voice was hoarse, and I could tell he was fighting to stay awake with every breath. "Penny Helbrim had already mixed up a batch when we arrived. She confessed to the murders, and when she tried to attack us, I shot her in self-defense."
I wondered briefly why Wyatt didn't want the police to know I used magic to make an antidote, but I was too tired to really care. Likely, he had a reason. Wyatt was rarely without a reason or a justification, and I personally found that annoying.
Like a hero that refuses to be beaten, Wyatt got to his feet with a slowness that looked painful. Incredibly, he bent down to give me a hand. After giving his shaky stance a dubious look, I struggled to my feet on my own. I wasn't in the mood to be crushed by his body—though that did sound appealing for later— just because he was trying to be chivalrous.
The sirens were blaring now, right on top of us. I marveled at how often I'd been hearing them lately. Maybe it was time to rethink my nosy policy if I wanted to live to see thirty— which was closer than I cared to admit.
Wyatt and I weaved as we walked out of the barn, bumping into each other slightly. After one such painful bump, I told him, "I'm never sleuthing
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