Witch Way Ever After: Paranormal Women's Fiction (Silver Sisters Book 7), page 1
Witch Way Ever After
A PARANORMAL WOMEN’S FICTION NOVEL
SILVER SISTERS
JENNIFER L. HART
ELEMENTS UNLEASHED
Copyright © 2023 by Elements Unleashed
Cover Art by GetCovers.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Witch Way Ever After
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
23. Christmas Eve
Note from the Author
Kitchen Witch Wedding
Witch Way Ever After
=
The bell tolls for celebration...and for death.
With a wedding right around the corner, midlife witches Siobhan, Maeve, and Alys Silver are determined to fix the blunder that cost Alys dearly. But when their deadbeat father shows up claiming to have the cure they seek, the sisters are suspicious. Where has he been and why has he come back?
Only one soul can give them the answers they seek, their mother. Just one problem. Laney Silver died more than three decades before under mysterious circumstances. Can the sisters put the ghosts from their past to rest? Or will they be buried under the weight of a family sin so dark it threatens everyone they hold dear?
Witch Way Ever After is the seventh and final book in the Silver sisters paranormal women's fiction series. If you love Gen-X heroines, supernatural stories filled with secrets, and books about the healing power of love, you won't want to miss the final book in Jennifer L. Hart’s enchanting tale. Buy Witch Way Ever After and divine your happy ending today!
Chapter
One
ALYS
“Anything?”
My brain knew I was at the beach. The open window let in the tang of low tide and I could hear waves crashing on the shore. I couldn’t see the waves, the sand, or the healer. I couldn’t see anything at all. Samantha Sinclair was probably shining a light in my eyes, but there was no urge to squint or turn away. “Nothing.”
She sighed. It was a sound I’d become very familiar with over the past few months. Ever since a magical backfire had taken my sight. I’d never seen Samantha in person, but my sisters told me she was roughly my age—early fifties. I could envision her running her hands through her graying hair in frustration as she spoke. “I don’t understand this. What magic did, it should undo. At least, that’s what my mentor, always said.”
I reached out my hand and waited for her to take it. When she did, I squeezed the warm smooth palm. “Thank you for trying, Sam. I appreciate all the time you’ve spent helping me.”
My fifth visit in as many months. Each failed attempt fractured the hope that I would ever regain my sight.
“Haven’t been much help though, have I?” Her tone was rueful as though her inability to restore my vision was a personal failing.
Sam had met my sister Maeve online through a group for witches with Multiple Sclerosis. While not every member of the group was a magical witch the way my sisters and I were, Sam had proved to be the genuine article. She’d had a one hundred percent success rate at healing magical maladies.
At least until I’d come along.
“It’s still possible your vision will return in time.” Sam didn’t sound confident that would be the case with me. “Everyone heals at a different rate. I just wish I could have helped you before your wedding.”
My lips curved up in a forced smile. “Yeah, me too. The good news is Sibby is handling all the details and I can’t see if she screws something up.”
Sam chuckled. It was a husky sound which made me realize why the healer’s two shifter mates were so enthralled with her. “Weddings aren’t my jam, either. I made a heinous mistake the last time around and it left a bad taste in my mouth for nuptial bliss. Though if my son decides to get married it might change my mind. Come on, I better get you out there before we have antsy cougars scratching on the door, demanding that I rest.”
I slid out of the chair and reached for the cane. It was still an odd sensation. Instead of just striding purposefully where I wanted to go, I needed the cane to locate objects, so I didn’t bash my shins or trip over something in my path. Life had slowed to a shuffle which was frustrating in the extreme. I liked to do a job and have the confidence in knowing it was done to the best of my ability. Without visual input, I had to rely on my other senses to feed me information. Hell, I didn’t even know if my shoes matched when I put them on in the morning, at least not until I tried to walk in them.
The door creaked open. I heard a man’s voice with a slight Australian accent. I aimed for it, knowing Sibby would be near Brock. My fiancé stopped speaking and I assumed it was because he caught sight of me.
“Anything, possum?”
A lump formed in my throat, but I croaked, “Afraid not.”
Sam repeated the same spiel about healing working differently for different people. A hand slipped into mine. The fingers were long and smooth, and the scent of vanilla and honey drifted from her to me. Sibby. She didn’t say anything, which was proof of how guilt was still riding her hard. I squeezed back, trying to tell her that I didn’t blame her for my vision loss. It had been an accident. Wallowing in guilt wouldn’t make anything better.
Neither was clinging to hope just to have it dashed over and over.
A moment later, Brock stepped up to my other side and his calloused palm melded with mine and the unique woodsy fresh fragrance that belonged to my fiancé washed over me. He didn’t say anything. A pang pierced my heart. He’d been expecting this to work. We all had. After all, when medical science failed, magic had always been there to pick up the pieces.
Until now.
Sibby cleared her throat. “Where to? Home?”
I shook my head. “No, I need to get back to the school.”
“Lys,” Brock began. “You should rest.”
“I’m in perfect health. Right Sam?” I had no idea where she was or even if she was still in the room. “Other than the fact that I can’t see.”
“That’s right.” The healer’s voice came from my left. Out of habit, I turned toward her. “Since you’re not having headaches or dizziness or any other symptoms, you’re okay to resume normal activity.”
As best I could. The words went unspoken but everyone in the room must have heard.
Brock sighed and Sibby cleared her throat. “Okay, we’re off to the school.”
“Thanks again, Sam,” I said.
A moment later, the off-kilter sensation of being teleported from one side of the state to the other washed over me. Sibby’s witchy gift was that of the traveler, a person who could move from place to place at will. It was a handy ability, much more practical than my mother nature gift that caused flowers to lean toward me and bloom or thunder to shake our hometown of Eckhart when my blood pressure went up. Not as useful as Maeve’s though. As an Enchantress, Maeve could bend anyone to do her bidding. It was probably a good thing that the most morally upright sister landed that ability. Sibby or I would be plotting world domination by now.
A moment later the familiar smells of floor polish and lemon multi-surface dusting spray told me we’d arrived at the magic school. The air at Sam’s place on the outer banks tasted briny and smelled of the tides, even in December. Here, all the windows were sealed shut against the bitter wind but even indoors I could still smell the cool clean crispness of the mountains and feel the chill that the ancient woodstove and updated electrical system combated night and day.
I released Sibby’s hand first and gripped the cane that dangled from my wrist. “Are we in my office?”
“Yeah,” Sibby cleared her throat again.
I frowned at her. “You sound hoarse. Are you catching a cold?” I hoped not. As well as being one of the school’s most popular guest instructors and my de facto wedding planner, my sister had an infant at home. Valerie Elaine would turn a year old on the day of my wedding to Brock—Christmas Eve. A lump formed in my throat as I thought of all the changes I’d missed in her development since the accident.
“I’m fine, Alys,” Sibby grunted. “Do you need me to take you anywhere, Brock?”
“I’ll stay here.” Brock threaded his fingers with mine.
“Okay. I’ll call you later, Alys.” There was a slight variation in air pressure as she vanished.
I reached for Brock’s face, picturing the golden stubble, the golden ring around his chocolate brown irises, the way it glowed when his wolf was close to the surface. “I’m sorry.”
His free hand cupped my cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for , possum. This isn’t your fault.”
I knew that. And yet there was this nagging sensation like I ought to be doing something. Anything. Whatever it took to see and put our lives back on track. He hadn’t signed up for this. Yes, Brock was in his early thirties compared to my fifty-something. In my darker moments, I could admit that the age gap bothered me. It had flitted across my mind that he might end up having to care for me, but not so soon in our relationship.
I’d been hale and healthy. I could lift a ladder and strap it to the bed of a pickup. I could demo walls, move furniture, and run an eight-minute mile. I just couldn’t see.
“Magic can’t cure everything,” Brock whispered. “Look at Maeve and Sam herself, with the MS.”
“That’s different,” I sighed and then released his hand, heading for my desk. “Magic is the cause of this. And you don’t need to babysit me.”
“Can’t I spend time with my lovely, fiancé?” he asked.
“You have a job. And a pack of werewolves. I’m safe here.”
Brock raised my hands to his lips. “Maybe I’d rather spend all day with you than anything waiting for me out there.”
He was a contractor by trade and winter was his slow season. Usually, he spent the cold months with his pack, checking in on everyone, cooking, and being a presence the ragtag group of wolves could count on.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked quietly from somewhere to my right.
I never heard footsteps with the wolves. They could pad as softly on two feet wearing construction boots as they could on four paws in a pine forest.
I swiveled my chair toward him. “No, love. I don’t. If this is our new normal, we better get used to it. I need to figure out a way to do my job without my eyes. And you need to trust that if I need help, I’ll ask you for it.”
Brock was quiet, the way he was when he absorbed something. “You’ve given up then?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m just trying to be grateful for what I do have. You and Fawn. My sisters. This school. The pack. Compared to three years ago, my life is so much richer.”
He cupped my face in his hands. “I love you, Lys.”
“And I love you.” I stayed still and let him kiss me. “But if you want to back out of the wedding, now’s the time to say—”
He cut me off with a kiss that stole my breath.
“I’ll pick you up at five,” he said.
I nodded. “See you then.” And then grimaced as I realized what I’d just said. Damn, I missed his face. Fawn’s face too. The half-witch half-fae orphan we’d adopted was bound to be changing almost as fast as Valerie Elaine. And I was missing it.
I waited until the office door clicked shut before fumbling in my pocket for my phone. “Call Maeve.”
The phone followed my voice command and my sister picked up on the third ring. She sounded breathless as she gasped my name.
“Bad time?” I asked with an amused edge. Maeve and her husband Kal were like teenagers. Always necking during business hours.
“We’re just finishing taking down the wall between the den and that shitty little closet in the main bedroom.” Maeve panted. “Do you need something?”
My teeth sank into my lower lip. On top of dealing with MS, Maeve was renovating her home, a job I was supposed to do for her. More guilt, more frustration. Even though I couldn’t see, I shut my eyes.
“Alys?”
“It’s nothing,” I sighed. “I just wanted you to know there’s been no change.”
“I’m sorry,” Maeve said. “Where are you?”
“At the school. There’s a lot to do before winter break starts next week.”
“Bella and I will stop by after school and help you out.” Maeve offered.
“You don’t have to—”
“We’ll be there,” Maeve insisted. Stubbornness was a trait that all three of us had in spades.
“Okay. Thanks.” I set the phone down. Fumbling across the desk, I reached for my new laptop. This was why I’d sent Brock away. I hated for him to watch me struggle with simple tasks. He either offered to help me do whatever task I was attempting or worse, pretended not to notice.
The software Sibby had installed on the laptop would read my email messages. Even if clearing my inbox was a minor thing, at least it was something technology and I could do solo.
“Junk, junk, junk,” I murmured as the computer narrated the senders and subject lines. Again, it was slow going compared to the ease I used to have in skimming and deleting. My hands clenched into fists. “Be grateful for what you have.”
The next message began, and I froze at the name. “Richard Yates”
“Do you wish to open this message?” The impersonal female voice inquired as though my world hadn’t suddenly come unglued.
I sat stock still. Dad. I hadn’t thought about him in years. Hadn’t seen him since I was a child and he’d run out on us, his wife, and three daughters. Why the hell was he coming out of the woodwork now?
“Continue.” I held my breath and waited to hear what he wanted.
The program began to read the email in its impersonal tone. “Alys. I was sorry to hear about your accident and your eyesight. I would like to come to Eckhart and visit you and your sisters. There might be something I can do to help you. Love to Maeve and Sibby. Dad.”
The message ended.
“Read it again,” I ordered the computer.
Dutifully, it did.
I put my head in my hands. Dad. Of all the people on the planet, he was the absolute last one I would have expected to emerge from the ether and ask for entrance back into our lives. Who had told him about my blindness? And what did he mean there might be something he could do to help? He’d been a mechanic, not an optometrist. What could he do? Why would he want to help when he’d been a non-presence for the last forty years?
I picked up my phone and then set it down again. No, I wasn’t going to obsess about my father. He wasn’t paying rent to take up space in my brain. I refused to drop everything just because he’d slithered out from whatever rock he’d been skulking under. He’d abandoned us long ago and left us and our mother homeless. He hadn’t appeared when she’d died either. So why now?
Out in the hall, the bell rang. The sound of dozens of feet heading down to the dining room for lunch broke me from my reverie. I shook my head and refocused on my laptop. “Read next email.”
There was work to be done.
Chapter
Two
MAEVE
The knot in the pit of my stomach grew as I stared around at the wreckage of our house. “Evie?” Kal’s deep rumbling voice was that of a grizzly bear waking after a long winter’s
nap. “What’s the matter?”
I lowered my dust mask before addressing my husband. “I’m starting to think we bit off
more than we can chew.”
Kal set down the sledgehammer before removing his goggles. “It’s okay, Evie. You’ve seen this process before. It always gets worse before it gets better, right?”
“Yeah.” But before I’d had Alys working her magic—metaphorical, not actual magic—behind the scenes. My big sister was the ultimate organizer. She tackled a to-do list like a linebacker for the Panthers. “But you need to get to work. I should head home and shower before I pick up the kids and drop Philip off at karate. Plus, I promised Alys we’d swing by the school. And I’m teaching with the Magical Midwife later and tomorrow—”
Kal gave me a swift kiss. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Worrying yourself into exhaustion.”
A small smile curved my lips. He wasn’t wrong. I ran my hand through his plaster-coated hair, noting the silver that had begun to creep into the smooth dark locks. “I know. I’m just eager to be back in town. Twelve miles doesn’t seem like a lot until you’re doing it multiple times a day.”
