Magic's Feud

MAGIC’S FEUD MONSTERS AMONG US: HARTFORD COVE BOOK THREE L. L. FROST MAGIC’S FEUD Copyright © 2023 by L.L. Frost All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Cover design by L.L. Frost Book design by L.L. Frost Printed in the United States of America. First Printing, 2023 CONTENTS Synopsis Not a Rat Right Time and Place Not Brave Enough Clinics Are Evil Slay The Beast Cage For One Were-Sitter Duty Wrong to Trust Treats For Belly Rubs The Bacon War The Wolf in the Window Breathe Through Your Toes Quest For a Map Books and Blots Shifter Shit The Sun and Moon Battle of Curses Them’s The Rules The Sunlight Project Tap Tap Tap Kicking the Beehive Group Spelling Not Kittens and Rainbows Call to Adventure All Stocked Up Into the Woods Metal Mushrooms A Well Full of Witches Mouth Falls Ooey Gooey Alpha, Please Meeting of Witches Return of the Ex Hammers & Buckets Trouble on the Porch The Ding! to Adventure The Man & The Wolf Just Like Old Times Prepping for Goo Enemy at the Door Flashes and Booms Nesse’s Fall Blood and Blade Forgiveness and Hate Into the Grave Getty Up, Petty Pony The Cleanup Broken Wands Magic’s Dawn Also by L.L. Frost About the Author SYNOPSIS Hartford Cove is no stranger to hiding the truth, but this time the secrets revealed are about Rowe’s new mate, the vampire Ambrose. When Rowe kidnapped Ros and hauled him back to Hartford Cove, she knew she was taking more than one risk. The small town of wolf shifters doesn’t play friendly with vampires. But Rowe hopes that a peace offering will finally lay this centuries-old feud to rest. Returning to Hartford Cove may have been a mistake, though. When Haut is wounded by a silver bullet, it becomes clear that the barrier that protects them may no longer be enough to keep the quiet town hidden. Time is running out, but not just for the wolf shifters. The witch who’s been invading Rowe’s thoughts holds the answers to the secrets in Ros’s past. Rowe must learn to embrace her heritage as the Wendall witch and track down Ros’s missing sister, but with enemies at their borders, now is the worst time to leave Hartford Cove. Can they figure out a way to bury the feud between wolf shifters and huntsmen before more innocent lives are lost? NOT A RAT Silence fills the shadowed kitchen, pale moonlight spilling in through the windows to illuminate the spent spell on the dining table in front of me. Only the quiet croak of frogs from the garden offers company. Owen and Tris lie sleeping upstairs, in the bed where I left them not long ago. Ros, too, sleeps somewhere in the house, having chosen to separate himself from the rest of my mates. I stare at the still bowl of water on the table in front of me, my mind still ringing with what I just learned from my personal stalker witch. Delilah Shultz is alive. Maybe. My first thought is to go wake Ros up and tell him the good news that his sister might not be as dead as he thought. My second thought is how that could be a terrible idea. There’s a chance I misheard the voice in my head. The connection was spotty at best, which isn’t unusual for my brain, and she kept blinking in and out at the end. I’d hate to get Ros’s hopes up only to be wrong and force him to grieve for his sister all over again. First, I need to confirm what I heard. Pulse racing, I rush to the island junk drawer and dig out four more candles, then return to the dining table. With my nails, I scrape the wax off the wooden surface from the first round of candles before prepping the new ones. Wax splatters everywhere from my shaking hands as I stick them to the table, then light them while calling on the watchtowers. I struggle to focus on the words of the spell as I swirl the water deosil, then widdershins, droplets splashing onto the table in my rush. With the spell complete, I lean over the bowl, with my lips nearly touching the swirling surface of the water, and call out, “Delilah? Are you still there? Hello? Witch in my head? Olly olly oxen free.” “Why are you whispering to a bowl of water?” a voice asks. Eyes widening, I lean closer, the tip of my nose touching the water. “Is that you, Delilah?” “No, it’s me, Owen,” the voice whispers in my ear. Shrieking with fright, I shoot upright, and my hand knocks against the bowl, tipping it over. Horrified, I watch the water spread toward the ancient grimoires I shoved to the other side of the table. With a curse, Owen snatches a towel off the island and flings it over the water before he sweeps his arm across the table, knocking the journals onto the floor to save them from a watery doom. Kicked into motion, I rush to the paper towel dispenser on the counter, grab the entire roll, and race back to Owen’s side to help him mop up the mess before the water spreads farther. He casts me an exasperated look. “You know those journals are one-of-a-kind and can’t be replaced, right? That’s the history of generations of Wendall witches that you almost ruined.” I