Page 1

CHAPTER 1

FIONA

" I can't believe we actually managed to get away," Violet said from the back seat. Her voice was filled with proper wonderment.

I caught her eye in the rearview mirror and smirked. "That's because I'm just that awesome." I wasn't, but I believed in faking it till you made it. The notion had gotten me this far in life. Why stop now? Besides, someone had to be the confident one in our little trio.

"Remind me again how you convinced Bas to let you out of his sight for an entire weekend?" Violet leaned forward between the seats, her dark curls bouncing with the movement. "Last time I checked, he was being particularly clingy after our trip to the Amazon."

"First of all," I said, keeping my eyes firmly on the road, "we had no choice but to go and save the Garden. He knows that. Second, Bas doesn't 'let' me do anything. I'm a grown witch who can make her own questionable life choices, thank you very much."

"We did manage to contain the Garden with minor injuries," Aislinn conceded, though she was still checking her mobile for what had to be the hundredth time since we'd left. Probably making sure Argies hadn't fed Kalli takeaway curry for breakfast again. "If anything happens to me, Argies will never forgive the lot of you. And don't give me that look, Fi. You know our track record."

"For crying out loud, we're wine tasting. Not challenging a dragon to a duel," I said. "Something you would win since you're mated to one and survived giving birth to one." I shot her a grin to let her know I was joking. Being a mom—sorry, mum—had turned my formerly adventurous friend into such a worrier. "Though I have to admit, the dragon might be easier to handle than hangovers. Remember when I brought Grams back?"

"That was well worth consuming so much," Aislinn replied with a smile. "Though I still maintain that Grams' hangover cure is actually worse than the hangover itself. I swear I tasted colors for a week after."

"Better than the time we tried that 'foolproof' potion Violet found on WitchTok," I reminded them, switching lanes to pass a lorry that was moving slower than snot. "My tongue went numb for three days."

"In my defense," Violet piped up, "the witch who posted it had five stars and over a million followers."

"Yes, and now we know why you shouldn't trust social media witches who call themselves 'That Healing Witch Girl' and use too many emojis in their posts," I said dryly.

The quaint village of Hambledon sprawled out before us. Holy mother of magic was it perfect. Like, suspiciously perfect. Snow covered everything from the rolling hills to the neat rows of grape vines standing at attention like tiny soldiers waiting for orders. The whole scene looked like something out of a tourism brochure, which immediately set off my Spidey senses. In my experience, perfect usually meant "run the other direction as fast as possible."

"It looks like someone took every British Christmas card ever made and smooshed them together," I muttered as I squinted through the windscreen at the picturesque scene. "Are we sure this place is real and not some fairy glamour?"

"I did my research," Violet assured us as she pulled out her itinerary. "Hambledon's completely legitimate. They've been making wine here since before the Norman Conquest. Though..." She paused and looked around. "There might be a few local legends about the original vintners making deals with the Fair Folk for better harvests."

"Brilliant," Aislinn groaned. "Just brilliant. Why can't we ever go somewhere normal?"

"Because normal is boring," I reminded her as we carefully navigated the narrow village streets. "And let's be honest. Trouble finds us whether we're looking for it or not. Might as well embrace it and get some good wine out of the deal."

The vines were dormant under their snowy blankets. But something about them made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Like they were guarding secrets. Magical secrets. The kind that usually ended up trying to kill us. I kept my mouth shut about all that. I didn't want Aislinn fretting over a feeling. Although, I had to acknowledge it was unlikely we could go wine tasting without stumbling into something potentially lethal.

Violet was a romantic at heart and did a little spin that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else. "It's absolutely lovely. I feel like we've stepped into another world. The snow makes everything look so pristine."

I snorted. "Yeah, pristine until you're face-down in it wondering where your dignity went. Then it's just cold, wet, and embarrassing as hell."

"Speaking from experience there, Fi?" Aislinn teased.

The village was tiny. Just a handful of buildings clustered around an ancient church that probably hadn't seen action since before electricity was invented. Every cottage looked like it belonged in a Jane Austen novel. They all had thatched roofs and ivy-covered walls. Even the pub looked like it had been serving ale since Henry VIII was busy collecting wives.

"Look at that church," Violet said. Her witch senses were clearly tingling as much as mine. "Those wards are ancient. Someone's been maintaining them though. See how the protection sigils are worked into the stonework? Proper clever, that is."

"As long as we don't have to deal with any more angry ghosts," Aislinn muttered.

“The ghosts went south for winter,” I assured Aislinn.

"This is exactly what we needed," Violet said. She was practically bouncing with excitement. "The vineyards here are meant to be some of the finest in Britain. And the wine-"

"-better be worth freezing my ass off," I finished, rubbing my gloved hands together. "Otherwise, someone's going to hear about it. Possibly at volume."

"Bloody hell, Fi," Aislinn chuckled. Her breath was visible in the cold air. "You're always threatening someone. It's rather become your signature, hasn't it?"

"It's gotten us this far, hasn't it?" I glanced at the small signpost pointing toward our first winery. "Besides, without wine, this place would just be a really pretty ghost town. And we've dealt with enough actual ghosts to last a lifetime."

"That we have," Violet agreed as she twined one arm through mine and the other through Aislinn's.

We crunched through the snow toward the winery. Our boots left trails of footprints that looked almost too perfect against the pristine white. My stomach growled as we passed a bakery that smelled like heaven itself had decided to do some baking. "We ought to get some mince pies," Violet said as if she'd read my mind. She eyed the bakery with more longing than I had.

"Wine first," I reminded her. Though, warm pie was starting to sound pretty damn good. "Let's maintain some semblance of priorities here. Besides, you know how you get around pastries."

"That was one time!" Violet protested.

"You cleared out an entire patisserie in France," Aislinn reminded her. "The poor baker looked proper gutted."

"He didn’t believe a dainty woman like myself could eat that much. He should never have challenged me,” Violet pointed out.

"That’s a surefire way to be proven wrong,” I agreed.

We chuckled and continued to our first destination. Heat engulfed us like a hug when we entered. The winery was everything a wine snob could dream of. It was a rustic stone building with ivy-covered walls and windows glowing with warmth. It looked like it had weathered more British winters than I'd had hot dinners. No doubt, it had better stories to tell.

"Is it just me," Aislinn whispered, "or do those vines look like they're moving?"

I squinted at the ivy. "Probably just the wind. Though..." I lowered my voice, "I'm picking up some interesting energy signatures. Nothing dangerous, mind you. More like old, protective magic?"

"The kind of old that means we should run away, or the kind of old that means really good wine?" Violet asked, already shrugging off her coat.

"Let's find out, shall we?" I replied with a grin. “Just remember. No magic. We're trying to blend in for once."

"You say that every time," Aislinn muttered. "And every time, something explosive happens anyway, and we have to have memories erased."

"Name one time-" I started to protest.

"The festival downtown," both Violet and Aislinn said in unison.

"That was not my fault," I defended. "How was I supposed to know that imps were going to attack at a mundie event?"

We wandered closer to the massive stone fireplace that crackled in the corner. My favorite were the wooden beams that stretched across the ceiling. We beelined right for the long, polished bar before we reached the flames. Violet was practically vibrating with excitement as we approached the older gentleman behind it. The whole place smelled of oak, spices, and wine.

He greeted us with a smile and was already pouring what looked like liquid ruby into glasses. "Welcome, welcome." His Hampshire accent was thick as treacle. "Come in, warm yourselves by the fire. Let me introduce you to some of Hambledon's finest."

I noticed the subtle symbols carved into the bar's woodwork. They were small and subtle enough that most visitors would mistake them for decorative flourishes. I had to squint to get a better look. Protection runes. That was interesting. I wondered if they were left by a previous owner. Or if this one knew about magic.

"Now, this is what I'm talking about," Violet said as she shed her coat and claimed a spot at the bar like she'd been born to it. "How long have you been making wine here?"

The owner, who introduced himself as George, launched into a fascinating history of the vineyard. As he talked, I noticed how his eyes seemed to linger on Violet's crystal pendant. He seemed to carefully avoid touching any of our hands directly when passing glasses. I swear he knew what we were. Or, perhaps I was looking for trouble like Aislinn said.

"The grapes are particularly special here," he said, with just the slightest emphasis on special. "There’s something about the soil, you see. My family has been tending these vines for generations."

While Violet got her wine education on, I took a moment to scan the room. Old habits did die hard. Those habits had kept us alive more times than I could count. The place seemed normal enough. Your average, charming English winery. No obvious signs of supernatural activity. No mysterious energy signatures. No suspicious-looking locals giving us the evil eye. Was the fire in the hearth burning a bit too steadily for a natural flame? Did the shadows in the corners seem just a touch too deep? I really was looking for problems.

I turned my attention to sampling the varieties of wine offered. We listened to tales of vintages past, and at some point, Violet got that look in her eye. The one that usually meant trouble with a capital T.

"Whatever you're thinking, the answer is no," I said preemptively.

"You don't even know what I was going to suggest," she protested.

"I don't need to. That's your 'I have an idea that might get us killed, but it'll be fun' face. I know that face. I hate that face." I frowned at her.

Violet rolled her eyes. "I fancy visiting a Fae-owned vineyard. It's the one place here where we can properly let our hair down. I found it during my research."

"Is it the place Elowen owns?" Aislinn perked up, then immediately looked worried. "Hang on, isn't she the one who-"

"It is," Violet confirmed quickly. "And she's perfectly safe. Mostly."

"Mostly safe, like that time we went to the mermaid bar underwater?" I asked skeptically. "Because I still can't eat seafood without having flashbacks."

"That was different," Violet insisted. "We were on a case then. Besides, Elowen is a Light Fae. They're all so civilized."

"Right," I drawled. "Because the Light Fae are known for their restraint and reasonable behavior.”

"You’re mated to a Light Fae, Fi," Violet reminded me. "When was the last time we got to drink proper Fae wine? The kind that makes you see stars and taste moonlight?"

"The last time we did that was after I had the baby," Aislinn pointed out. "And I didn't get to participate. I miss the wines of home."

That did it for me. We paid our tab and ventured to Elowen’s place. That's what friends did. They followed each other into potentially dangerous situations involving Fae wine. Thankfully the town was small enough it didn’t take long to get to our destination. The Snowy Vine was nothing like the previous winery. Where that had been quaint and rustic, this place looked like something out of a fantasy architect's fever dream.

The building before us was clearly glamoured. It shifted its appearance depending on who was looking at it. To mundie eyes, it was a quaint country estate. For those of us who could see through the magical veils, it was an elegant Victorian mansion.

"Nice separation spell," I commented as I studied the layers of magic. "It lets the mundies see what they expect while giving supernaturals the full show. It really is beautiful."

"I think it's brilliant," Violet said as we approached the door. "The way they've woven the different perception layers together is master-level work. "

Aislinn and I followed her up the path anyway. Inside, the place was bustling with the kind of crowd you'd expect at a Fae establishment. There was a surprising mix of supernaturals. Looking away from a shifter and his ice demon date, I took the room in. The bar was made of dark marble that seemed to have galaxies swirling in its depths. The chandeliers looked like they were made from captured starlight.

A group of what looked like dryads were giggling in one corner. Their hair was shifting between autumn colors even though it was winter. A pair of what had to be selkies sat at the bar. Their sealskins were draped carefully over their chairs. And was that... yes, that was definitely a pooka trying (and failing) to look inconspicuous while chatting up what appeared to be a very unimpressed water nymph.

That's when we met Elowen. Holy shit. If the building was impressive, she was breathtaking. She wore a silver gown that moved like liquid moonlight. Her platinum blonde hair was braided in a way that defied gravity. Her eyes were an impossible shade of lavender.

"I know that look," Aislinn whispered to me. "That's your 'trying to figure out if someone's dangerously attractive or just dangerous' face."

"Can't it be both?" I muttered back, earning an eye roll from both my friends.

"Welcome to The Snowy Vine," Elowen said in a voice as melodic as wind chimes in a gentle breeze. "What may I offer you on this fine winter's day?" She glided toward us. Her feet never quite touched the floor. Show-off.

"We've heard your vineyard is the best in the region," Violet said, smiling. "We're rather keen to try the house special."

"Ah, you must mean Winter's Embrace," Elowen said. Her smile widened as she reached for a bottle that looked like it had been crafted from frozen starlight. The wine inside was the color of garnets held up to the sun. I swear I saw snowflakes dancing in the liquid as she poured.

"Careful with that one," a voice behind us warned. I turned to see a satyr in a surprisingly modern bartender's outfit, complete with an artfully tied bow tie. "It's got quite a kick. Last week, a bunch of pixies had three glasses each and ended up trying to redecorate the ceiling."

"I rather liked what they did with the constellations," Elowen mused as she gestured to the ceiling where, sure enough, entirely new star patterns twinkled. "Though the dragon constellation breathing actual fire was a bit much. Anyway, this is made from grapes kissed by the first frost," she explained. "It carries a touch of winter's magic. We harvest them at midnight during the first full moon after the autumn equinox."

"Of course you do," I said, trying not to sound as impressed as I felt. "Let me guess. You do it using silver shears blessed by a winter sprite?"

"Actually, we use golden shears blessed by the Moon herself," Elowen corrected with a slight smirk. "The silver ones leave an aftertaste."

I took a sip and holy mother of magic. It was like drinking liquid warmth. It made you feel as if you were sitting by a fire while a blizzard raged outside. It made you forget about all the trouble you'd left behind. A second later, images flickered through my mind. I recalled snowball fights from my childhood, the first time I saw the Northern Lights, and that perfect moment of silence after a fresh snowfall.

"We need to take some home," I declared. "Bas would love this."

"Argies too," Aislinn agreed, already reaching for her handbag. "He’s been talking about taking another trip back to Eidothea so he can help his brother and see his family."

I could understand that. My children lived in the United States, and I didn’t see them as often as I wanted. They didn’t get much time off from classes. “Now that we’ve been warned, you should plan it soon. Before shit goes sideways again.”

"Speaking of warnings," Elowen said. She’d produced a contract that sparkled suspiciously. "There are a few... terms and conditions for purchasing bottles."

"That sounds rather ominous," I sighed. "Let me guess. We have to give you our firstborn. No, wait. We can't drink it during a blue moon. And we have to dance with the Winter Court if they come calling?"

"Nothing so dramatic," Elowen laughed. The sound was like icicles tinkling. "Just the usual. Don't serve it to mundies. Don't use it in potions without consulting the brewing guidelines. And please don't try to replicate it. The last witch who tried that ended up with a vineyard full of singing grape vines. It took months to quiet them down."

We spent the next hour sampling different wines. Each was more magical than the last. The conversation flowed as freely as the wine. Though, I kept my intake minimal. Someone had to keep a clear head. With our track record, it was probably a good thing I was driving.

"Oh, try this one," Elowen said as she produced a bottle that seemed to be made of twilight. "It’s called Midnight Harvest. It pairs wonderfully with lasagna."

"Does everything here have to be so dramatically named?" I asked, accepting a glass that swirled with what looked like actual stars.

"We're Fae," Elowen shrugged elegantly. "Dramatics are part of the job description." I wanted to argue with that. My mate was the exact opposite of that. I thought better of saying anything. Bas was unique, and I loved his grumpy demeanor.

"Remember Rome?" Violet asked. She grinned as she sipped something that made her hair temporarily turn silver. "When Fiona tried to haggle with that vendor and ended up with enough pasta to feed an army?"

I groaned. "In my defense, my Italian was rusty."

"Rusty?" Aislinn laughed. "You asked for a scarf and got ten pounds of spaghetti! Proper mental, that was."

"Hey, we ate well that week!" I protested. "And none of you complained when Grams was cooking all those meals."

A group of frost sprites drifted by. They left trails of delicate ice patterns in the air. One winked at me, and my wine briefly frosted over before melting back to normal temperature. "Show-offs," I muttered with a smile. There was something rather magical about being in a place where we didn't have to hide what we were. No carefully concealed words. No pretending we couldn't see the magical creatures that lived in the margins of the mundane world. The tension that had overcome me while walking through a town of mundies eased up. We needed to let our hair down like this.

After the tasting, we decided to explore the town. The snow was falling and making everything look like it had been dusted with diamond powder. We window-shopped, admired the Christmas decorations, and managed to avoid any magical incidents. It was a new record for us.

The massive Christmas tree in the town square sparkled with ornaments and lights. The former looked like they'd been passed down through generations. They caught the light and threw rainbow reflections across the snow. "Is it just me," Aislinn said as she squinted at the tree, "or are there fairies playing chicken with the star on top?"

I looked up. Sure enough, a group of tiny lights were darting around the top of the tree. They zoomed dangerously close to the oversized star before veering away at the last second. "Ten quid says one of them crashes within the next five minutes," I offered .

"You're on," Violet replied, then immediately groaned as one of the lights bounced off the star with a tiny 'ping' and spiraled dramatically down before recovering.

We couldn’t linger because the weather turned. What had been a picturesque snowfall became something out of a horror movie. The wind picked up. Visibility dropped. Suddenly, it felt like trying to navigate through a snow globe in a tornado. We raced for my car and hopped inside.

"I thought England was supposed to be all mild winters and Jane Austen gardens," I muttered as I headed toward the Bed and Breakfast. "When did we take a wrong turn into Narnia?"

"This doesn't feel natural," Violet said from the passenger seat. She was gripping the oh-shit for dear life. Her witch senses were clearly tingling as much as mine. "The magic in the air is all wrong."

"Wrong how?" I asked. She knew more about witchy stuff because she’d practiced it her entire life. My Grams had locked my magic away to keep me from being hunted, and my parents moved us away. I had no idea I was a witch until recently. I squinted through the windscreen at what might have been a road. Or possibly just a slightly flatter patch of white hell.

"Like..." Violet frowned, concentrating. "Like when you try to mix incompatible potions. That feeling right before everything goes spectacularly pear-shaped."

"It was rather charming an hour ago," Aislinn said from the back seat. "Now I feel we've stumbled into the wrong sort of fairy tale. We cannot die in a snowstorm. We’ve faced down demons and demigods and won."

"Nobody's dying," I assured her. The car chose at that moment to fishtail like it was auditioning for Fast and Furious. "I am starting to wish we'd bought more wine. You know, for survival purposes when we get stuck."

"I knew we should have accepted Elowen's offer of a room at her place," Violet muttered before she cast a quick stabilizing charm on the car. It helped, but not as much as it should have. "But no, someone had to insist we stay where we’d reserved."

"We already had a room," I reminded her as I fought with the steering wheel.

Brake lights glowed ahead like evil Christmas decorations through the snow. Dammit, there was an accident ahead. We should have known this day couldn't just be about wine and relaxation. "Bloody hell," I muttered as I carefully pulled over. "Looks like we've got ourselves a situation."

"Please tell me we're not going to get involved," Aislinn pleaded. She clearly knew better because she was already pulling her emergency potions from her bag. "Just once, can we not get involved in every crisis we stumble across?"

"We're the Backside of Forty," I reminded her. "Getting involved is basically in the job description."

The scene was utter chaos. Cars were scattered everywhere like somebody had played vehicular pickup sticks. People stumbled around looking dazed and confused. We got out to help, because that's what decent people do, even when they're freezing their assets off. My magical senses picked up something else too. There were traces of magic scattered across the scene like broken glass. Fresh magic. Nothing like the ancient protective spells we'd felt at the wineries.

"Anyone else picking up on the magical residue?" I asked quietly as we picked our way through the snow.

"Yep. It feels like a spell gone wrong," Violet confirmed. "Or very, very right, depending on what they were trying to do."

That's when Aislinn yelped behind us. I turned just in time to see her go down like a tree in a forest. "What the hell did you trip over?" I asked. Something told me I wasn't going to like the answer. Nothing good ever came from mysterious lumps in the snow.

"Please be a log, please be a log, please be a log," Violet chanted under her breath as we made our way back to where Aislinn was scrambling backward through the snow. Her face had gone pale as milk.

Aislinn's hands were shaking as she pointed at what she'd stumbled over. "Bloody hell... I think... I think I've found a dead body."

"Fan-fucking-tastic," I muttered as I looked at the shape in the snow. The dead man was wearing what looked like expensive hiking gear. However, something was off about it. It looked like he'd gotten dressed in the dark. Or like someone else had dressed him. "What's a girls' weekend without a corpse?"

I crouched down, careful not to disturb any potential evidence. Magical or mundane. My witch sight picked up traces of something familiar. "Anyone else getting déjà vu?"

Violet knelt beside me and probed the scene. "This magical signature is similar to what we felt at The Snowy Vine, isn't it?"

"Fae magic," I confirmed grimly. "Yet, it’s not.”

Aislinn pursed her lips. “Someone tried to replicate Elowen's magic without knowing what they were doing. How did our weekend go off the rails so fast? The guys are never going to let us live this down."

Violet shrugged as she continued to examine the scene. "At least we managed to try the Winter's Embrace first."

She had a point. If we were going to deal with a dead body in the snow and what looked suspiciously like magical fraud gone horrifically wrong, at least we'd had some really good wine first. Sometimes, that's all you can ask for. "Right then," I said, standing up and brushing snow from my knees. "I suppose we should call the mundie authorities first. Then maybe have a chat with our new friend Elowen about who might be trying to copy her magic."

"And here I thought the worst thing we'd have to deal with today would be a hangover," Aislinn sighed, already dialing nine, nine, nine.

"Look on the bright side," I offered. "At least no one's turned into a toad yet."

"Don't," both my friends said in unison.

"Right, sorry." I pulled up my magic and began casting subtle detection spells to figure out what had my magical senses uneasy. We’d have to keep those involved in the accident from wandering over.

"We should probably check those bottles we bought from Elowen. Just to make sure they haven't been tampered with," Violet suggested.

I nodded as my mind raced through possibilities. "We should also see if she knows anything about unauthorized copycat vintners in the area. Someone could have been trying to recreate her wine and it went wrong."

"Can we maybe focus on the dead body first?" Aislinn suggested. "This doesn't feel like magical wine fraud."

"You’re right," I agreed, then grinned despite the situation. "You have to admit this beats another boring weekend at home."

"I hate that you're right," Aislinn muttered. "Just promise me one thing?"

"What's that?" I asked.

"Next time, I suggest we go to a normal, non-magical spa for our girls' weekend. Don't talk me out of it?" She shot me a rueful smile.

"Deal," I said, knowing full well we'd probably end up finding trouble there too. It was just our luck. "Now, let's see what other secrets this snow is hiding, shall we?"

So much for our normal, mundane wine tasting adventure. Then again, I supposed ‘normal’ and ‘mundane’ were never really our style anyway. At least we had some excellent Fae wine to look forward to once we solved this mess. Assuming, of course, we survived whatever we'd just stumbled into.