Bewitching Bedlam (Bewitching Bedlam #1)



AFTER FINISHING UP some more of my Yule shopping—I found the perfect brandy flask for Sandy and a remote control mouse for Bubba—I stopped at the post office. The return address on the envelope in the box made me blink twice. My mother was writing to me? I hadn’t heard from her in over a decade, since my wedding to Craig. But I’d sent her pictures of the Bewitching Bedlam, and a quick note about what I was up to, and I guess I should have expected her to respond. There was also a packet of papers from city hall, including several approved licenses and another short form to fill out.

As I slid back into my car, I stared at my mother’s handwriting. The letter was postmarked from Dublin, so she must be on vacation because she usually stayed close to her home near Aughrusbeg Lough. She had moved there about thirty years ago, bored and—I think—lonely. She had friends who lived near there, and the change was a fresh start. Over the years, my mother had grown bored of so many of her hobbies. That was one of the troubles of having an incredibly long life span. The same-old, same-old year in and year out made it easy to grow weary and lose heart. I blew on my fingers—my gloves were fingerless for easy driving—and hesitantly edged open the letter.

My mother and I weren’t on the best of terms and she had constantly been after me to find the right man and settle down. Find yourself a nice quiet witch, she had said over and over, someone who could handle the vagrancies of a wife with “too much go in her get-up-and-go.” After a while, I quit protesting and just let her ramble on. Twenty minutes into any subject and she would start to wind down and I’d be able to shift the conversation. I had to face it. My mother was a golden-hearted ditz with a brain that was never going to win any races.



Dear Maudlin,

I read your letter as of late and I don’t mind telling you, I think you’re better off without Craig. He must have been an addle-brain to think he could keep you in the first place. You always were awfully smart, and he just didn’t have what it took to keep you interested. I always, always said you shouldn’t attempt to bond with a human. They just can’t fathom our lifestyle and Craig was too arrogant. He couldn’t handle his wife being better than he was. But darling, that certainly doesn’t mean I meant you should take up with a vampire.

For the sake of the gods, think about this before you get in too deep. You’ve always been on the rebellious side, and I can’t help but feel this is just another way for you to throw dirt in my face. I thought your wild side was firmly in check after that Mad Maudlin business. Granted, you had reason to be upset, but darling, really, turning into a vampire hunter because of a man? If I’d been upset over your father’s desertion, do you think I’d be in the place I am now—



I tossed the letter on the seat beside me. That was as far as I could make it without seeing red. Not only was my mother a ditz, she was a tactless one and she had very little compassion for others. My father had almost died at the teeth of a vicious dog pack. Wild, they were out hunting for food when they found him. He was in the woods, gathering herbs for tinctures and salves when they attacked.

If a friend of his hadn’t been near and heard the commotion, he would have died. After Jonathan brought him home, Father managed to heal up, even with my mother badgering him about how he had almost left us destitute, with “her being so helpless.” After he was able to walk again, he took a job with the Society Magicka, a secret organization that watched over witches. With worldwide branches and a lot of casework, they kept Father away from home more often than not. Finally, he moved out altogether. I kept some contact with him, more than with my mother actually, but she had never forgiven him.

He moved out around the time I took up with Tom. My mother always blamed my father for being a bad influence on me. She still didn’t know that I was in contact with him after all these years, but one of these days she was going to push me too far and it would come out. For now, though, she was safely on the other side of the ocean and I could set her letters down when they got too much to handle.

Shaking my head, I put the car in gear and headed for the Blue Jinn.





SANDY WAS WAITING for me. She jumped in the passenger seat as soon as I stopped.

“It’s freaking cold out there,” she said, clearing the mail off of the seat. As she fastened her seat belt, she smoothed out the pages of my mother’s letter and began replacing them in the envelope when she caught sight of the return address. “You got a letter from Zara?”

“Um hmm. You can read it if you want.” I didn’t care. Sandy knew most all of my secrets, including how batshit crazy my mother was.

As she skimmed through it she snorted, then paused. “Um, have you read all of it?”

“No.” I suddenly realized I didn’t know where I was going. We had meant to go into the diner for lunch but apparently neither one of us had remembered that fact. “Where do you want to go? Piper’s Chicken?”

“That sounds good,” she said absently. “Maddy, you need to read the rest of this.”

I turned left into the parking lot and edged into a spot near the door of the fast-food chicken joint. “Why? It’s the same-old, same-old.”

“Not quite. Near the end, she says, ‘So I thought I’d come stay with you for a month in the summer. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? It’s been decades since I visited and I can meet this vampire of yours—if you’re still together—and see what kind of business you’re trying to run. If I like it, I might think about moving over there.’ That doesn’t sound like the same-old you talk about.”

Crap! My mother wanted to come visit. And maybe move here? The last time she flew over to hang out with me, we barely made it through my wedding before getting into a huge fight. I put her on a plane back to Ireland first thing the next morning. I loved Zara, but she made me want to tear my hair out.

“No. Just no. She’s not coming here. I’ll call her tonight and tell her to forget it. Last time was a disaster. You’d think she would have learned that we just don’t get along in the same room.”

“Your mother needs a crash course in reality. I hate to say it, but if there’s any way you can waylay her, do it. She’s not a good person for you to be around.” Sandy tossed the letter over her shoulder into the back seat. “So, visit Rose’s parents first?”

As much as I was dreading it, I nodded. “Let’s do this thing. Remember, we can’t say much about the case. Delia would have our hide.”

“I know.” Sandy stared at her hands. “If they act out, just remember, they’re in mourning.”

I nodded. They might very well blame me, since Rose died on my land. And with Rose’s sister missing, they’d already be on edge. “Yeah. I’ll be kind, no matter what they say.”

I turned left on Wolfbane Street, then parked in front of a modest house. It looked like every other house of its generation, but the Williamses kept up the grounds, and the house was clean and tidy. Somehow, the sight of it made me feel sadder than before.

“Let’s get this over with.” I glanced at Sandy. “I’m not sure what the hell to say.”

“Just say ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s all we can offer.”

Yasmine Galenorn's books