Herringbones and Hexes, page 1
Contents
Introduction
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
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Ribbing and Runes
A Note from Nancy
Also by Nancy Warren
About the Author
Introduction
What the hex is going on?
Life at Cardinal Woolsey’s knitting and yarn shop is about as smooth as shop owner Lucy’s knitting. In other words, lumpy, tangled and prone to disaster. Much like her spell-casting. But things get worse when her cousin and shop assistant Violet shows alarming symptoms of a hex. Who would do such a thing? Was it the guy from Witch Date she blew off? Or is Lucy the real target?
Meanwhile, Lucy’s dating a much older man. Like five hundred years older. The gorgeous vampire Rafe wants to marry her, but there’s more keeping them apart than an age gap. Can they make a May-medieval marriage work? Or will they say goodbye forever?
When someone dies, either the hex is to blame or there’s a murderer on the loose in Oxford.
Don’t miss the fun in this 12th novel in the best-selling Vampire Knitting Club series from a USA Today Bestselling author. There’s no gore, sex or swearing, just romance, humor—and murder. Come join the Vampire Knitting Club for the fun of it. Knitting skills not required.
“Reading this series is like visiting with beloved friends!”
Praise for the Vampire Knitting Club series
"THE VAMPIRE KNITTING CLUB is a delightful paranormal cozy mystery perfectly set in a knitting shop in Oxford, England. With intrepid, late blooming, amateur sleuth, Lucy Swift, and a cast of truly unforgettable characters, this mystery delivers all the goods. It's clever and funny, with plot twists galore and one very savvy cat! I highly recommend this sparkling addition to the cozy mystery genre."
Jenn McKinlay, NYT Bestselling Author
“I’m a total addict to this series.” *****
“Fresh, smart and funny” *****
Chapter 1
The trouble with working in a knitting store is that I get to see all the gorgeous patterns as they come in, the glossy magazines that lure me in with the promise that I, too, could buy a few skeins of wool, a pattern and some needles and presto, bingo, end up walking around in a designer knit sweater.
The reality is so much different. I’m trying to get better at knitting. I really am. I’ve figured out a few of the basics, don’t drop so many stitches anymore, and I’ve even finished a handful of garments. But I tend to fall for the more intricate designs that are, as my friends back in the States would say, way above my pay grade.
Yes, I should knit straight scarves and simple hats. Perhaps one of the simpler tea cozy patterns. But I’m an optimist at heart, and when my eye is drawn to the more complex patterns, my positive-thinking brain asks, how hard could it be?
This particular morning, I was looking at a magazine featuring a herringbone rug. Now, I’m the first to admit that I never knew there was such a stitch as the herringbone until this magazine arrived.
I was lost in wonder when my cousin Violet looked over my shoulder. “That’s pretty. It would look nice beside your bed, Lucy.”
“It would.” And even the thought that Vi considered me capable of making the rug made me warm to her.
“I’m sure your gran or one of the other vampire knitters could whip that up for you in no time,” she added, immediately bursting my bubble.
“No. I want to make it myself.”
She flipped her long, black hair over her shoulder. “Are we running before we can walk? Or perhaps in your case, toddling before we can walk? Crawling before we can toddle?”
Before we got to me swishing around in the womb, I held up a hand.
“Probably. But I love how knitting’s all about connection. A bit like being a witch.” And, yes, I could probably use magic to ease my knitting woes, but what was the point of that? I might as well just let the vampires do all my knitting for me. I wanted to learn. No. That wasn’t true. I wanted to be an accomplished knitter. Even being handy with a crochet hook would improve my confidence. Instead, I ran a knitting shop where I was daily reminded of my shortcomings.
When I’d hired my cousin Violet as my shop assistant, I’d wondered if I was doing the right thing. She was also a witch, and it rankled with her that I’d won the struggle for our family grimoire. I’d been as surprised as she was, but witchy power’s a funny thing. More innate than learned, though there was plenty of training involved, as I’d recently discovered.
I hadn’t asked for it, but I was learning the hard truth that I and my powers were going to be needed in some coming Witchageddon that Margaret Twigg, the leader of our coven, was predicting. I wasn’t sure if she really foresaw dire trouble or was using it to prod me into focusing on my training, but I really was trying to master my powers.
I didn’t need to strain those powers unduly to notice that Violet seemed more fidgety than usual. She kept finding things to do in the front window. She was reorganizing and dusting my winter woolens window display, which would have been both remarkable and useful on most days, since Violet wasn’t usually the first to pick up the duster or the broom. However, I had just redone the window display yesterday, so there was no point to her activity. All she managed to do was annoy Nyx, who was peacefully sleeping in her usual spot, curled up in a basket of wool in my front window.
After having her nose inadvertently dusted and then suffering the final indignity of having her basket moved while she was still in it, Nyx rose onto all fours, glared at Vi, turned all the way around to glare at me, and then jumped down and stalked to the door that separated Cardinal Woolsey’s Knitting Shop from the stairway that led to my flat upstairs. She meowed insistently until I walked over and opened the door for her, whereupon she scampered upstairs, no doubt so she could enjoy the rest of her nap in peace.
I was watching Violet, wondering if I was witnessing an incipient nervous breakdown, when she jumped back and put her hand to her chest. “Maybe that’s him. Is it him?”
I followed her gaze out the front window and saw a skinny young guy with a lot of tattoos and shoulder-length brown hair. He had a backpack slung over his shoulders. To me, he looked like a typical student in Oxford, but the way Violet was gazing at him anxiously, I suspected she knew him. He turned, and she took another step back away from the window, and then while I watched, a woman about his own age ran up and joined him. They stopped for a kiss and then continued on their way.
“Not him, then,” Violet said, and I wasn’t certain whether she was sorry or glad.
“Not him what?”
She shook her head as though she’d just come out of a swimming pool. “Sorry. I have a date. I thought that might be him.”
“You have a date?” I was quite surprised, since Violet had sworn off men. In fairness, she’d done it more than once, and with pretty good reason. Violet had the worst luck in romance of anyone I’d ever known. Well, not Romeo and Juliet dramatic, not Heloise and Abelard difficult, or Hero and Leander tragic. But in terms of contemporary women—and witches—I knew, Cupid didn’t smile on my cousin Violet. So to find out that she was dating again was interesting news.
I was obviously staring at her, so she said, “It’s not a big deal, Lucy. I met him on Witch Date.”
“Witch Date?” I wasn’t even sure how you spelled the service. Was it which, as in which guy should I choose? Or was it witch, as in witches dating witches? That seemed like it was narrowing the dating pool a whole lot. I knew plenty of male witches and was very fond of some of them, but I didn’t know any I’d want to date. And with Violet’s track record, I wasn’t sure that splashing around in the dating witch pool was the best idea.
She put a hand on her hip. “Witch Date is an internet dating site for magical creatures like us.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
She rolled her gaze at me. “It’s on the dark net, obviously.”
“Oh, obviously.” Like I spent so much time on the dark net. In fact, I wasn’t even sure how to find it. I suspected she’d be better off if she didn’t dip her toes in there either.
In the interests of harmony in the workplace, I didn’t share my sense of dread at the new dating adventure. I merely said, “So you have a date with a witch?”
“Yes.”
“Have you had other dates with witches?” I couldn’t imagine the dating pool was very large here in Oxfordshire. I suspected she’d go through all the single witches seeking other single witches pretty quickly.
“No. This is my first. It’s why I’m so nervous.”
“Why do you think he’ll come here?” It seemed like a reasonable question. This wasn’t her house; this was her place of business. And while witches tended to have different powers, clairvoyance wasn’t particularly common.
“Because I told him to meet me here.”
The hairs rose up on the back of my neck. “You asked a witch to come to my knitting shop to pick you up for a date.”
“Well, obviously, I didn’t want some stranger with magical powers coming to my house.”
“Right. Only to my shop. Because we both know how well that’s gone in the past.”
I laid the sarcasm on, but honestly, it seemed like any time we had a supernatural creature in the store, bad things happened. And that was leaving out the knitting circle of undead crafters who met late at night in my back room, many of them coming up from the subterranean living complex beneath my shop.
I didn’t think it was a good idea to have a witch wandering around up here. Especially not one who hung around on the dark net. All witches weren’t good ones, and not all witches were accepting of vampires.
Still, she was nervous enough already. I didn’t want to upset her. Maybe he’d turn out to be a great guy.
“Well, if you’re going to stand at the window anyway, take some window cleaner and a cloth and polish up the glass.” I hadn’t had a chance to do that yet.
Even though she was my employee, Violet rarely did what I asked her to, and for a second I thought she’d refuse. Then with a huff, she said, “Fine,” and grabbed the cloth I used for doing windows and the spray cleaner.
She climbed right into the front window and was busily cleaning the panes when the door opened. I looked up, assuming it was her date, but to my surprise it was William Thresher, Rafe Crosyer’s butler and estate manager. Since Rafe was a vampire, William had very little opportunity to use his absolutely incredible cooking skills, plus he really needed to get out more and mix with mortals, so he’d started up a catering company that was doing well. He was very selective about what clients he took on and which events he agreed to cater, but he’d built a nice business in a short time. I’d helped him a time or two as a waitress, but Violet worked with him regularly.
William was a pleasant-looking man in his mid-thirties. You wouldn’t call him handsome, but you wouldn’t call him not, either. He wasn’t tall or short; he was medium. His build wasn’t skinny or large. It was somewhere in the middle. In fact, William was about as average as they come until you got to know him.
William Thresher was the latest in a long line of mortals who had served Rafe. His many times great-grandfather had saved Rafe’s life back in the 1500s and sworn complete loyalty to the vampire. Since then, every generation had produced another William Thresher who took his father’s place. The trouble was that the current William had no missus. And no progeny. And I could tell that Rafe was getting a little anxious. That was obviously why he had agreed to let William have his little business on the side. No doubt he hoped William would meet some lovely young woman who’d become the future Mrs. Thresher and therefore the mother of the future butler and house manager at Crosyer Manor.
It all seemed very feudal to me, but when I’d asked William whether he didn’t feel as though he were some kind of indentured servant, he’d laughed at me. “Lucy, working for Rafe has advantages. He’s a very generous employer. Always has been.” He didn’t say more, but I knew that Rafe, with his hundreds of years of experience of humans, business, and money-making opportunities, was wealthy beyond my wildest imagination. It made perfect sense that he’d steered all the Threshers in the way of a small fortune of their own. Since he provided their lodging, a very nice house on the property, and all their meals and needs, I imagined that nest egg just kept growing and growing, generation after generation. He might look average and unassuming, but I suspected that William was a very wealthy guy.
I didn’t think he’d been hanging around on Witch Date, but Violet didn’t know that. She hadn’t yet seen who’d come in, only heard the door open. She leapt out from the front window and then, when she saw who it was, to my astonishment, she blushed.
She flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder so that the streak of purple and pink that she liked to dye into the front of her hair floated over her shoulder like a ribbon. “William, what are you doing here?”
I glanced at William and found that his color was slightly heightened too. “Violet. I came to see you, actually.”
She dumped the rag and cleaner unceremoniously in Nyx’s basket of wools and moved towards William. “You did?”
“I did. I’ve got another catering job. I wonder if you’d be available?”
Her thrilled expression dropped faster than one of my stitches when I was trying to knit a scarf. Or knit anything for that matter. “Oh. What’s the gig?”
“A new client, actually. Somebody very big in finance. It’s a select dinner on Saturday night for some of her clients. I need people I can trust.”
Well, it wasn’t sweet nothings, but Violet was obviously gratified that William respected her in a professional capacity, even if he wasn’t scattering rose petals at her feet in a romantic way. I’d harbored suspicions for a while that they were interested in each other, but it was clear neither had acted on their mutual esteem. Perhaps they were both shy or didn’t want to ruin a good friendship.
I could tell she wanted to go. Still, she was female. “Saturday? I’m not sure right at the moment. I’ll have to go home and check my calendar. I might have a date.”
His eyebrows flew up at that. “A date? You’re seeing someone then?” Sounded like he was sorry to hear that.
Maybe she’d noticed it too. “Well,” she said airily, “I wouldn’t exactly call it dating. Early days yet.”
“Right. Right.” He stood there for a minute more, and I thought he might say something. I wanted to urge him to say something, but I knew better than to nudge these two along with magic. They’d have to figure it out on their own. “Well, let me know when you’ve checked your calendar.”
After he left, Violet threw her head back and sent out a yell of frustration. “Saturday night? He comes in here looking for me to waitress on a Saturday night?”
“Well, he does run a catering company, and you do waitress for him on a regular basis.”
She swung around at me as though I’d said something completely inappropriate. “I am a woman, Lucy. A very attractive woman. Doesn’t he think I might have something else to do on a Saturday night?”
“I’m sure he does. And maybe this Witch Date guy will turn out to be the one and you’ll be completely in love by Saturday night.”
She glared at me as though I was being sarcastic, but I really wasn’t. Not very. “Right. It could happen.” She flipped her hair over her shoulders. “I could definitely be in love by Saturday night.”
Chapter 2
Naturally, between wondering if her date would show up and being annoyed with William for assuming she’d be free on a Saturday evening, Violet forgot all about the windows. It was me who picked up the cleaner and the rag and put them away while she wandered around the shop picking things up and putting them down and not doing anything useful.
Every time the door opened, she’d take a couple of steps forward and scrutinize whoever came in. Three times in a row, it was a customer looking for patterns, wool or, in the last case, directions to the closest public toilet. The fourth time the door opened, I think we both knew it was her date.
He had bleached hair that stuck out in tufts all over his head and wore a black jacket, jeans, and a shirt that had seen better days. A silver pentagram hung around his neck on a strip of black leather.
He looked at me and he looked at Violet and then he raised his eyebrows. “Mistress Moon?”
I glared at Violet. Really? Mistress Moon? I couldn’t believe he’d shown up to the date.
_preview.jpg)
