Westerham Witches and a Venetian Vendetta by Dionne Lister (top rated books of all time TXT) 📕

“Surprise!” A duo of voices came from behind me.

I spun around, and my eyes widened. My mouth dropped open. “Sarah! Lavender!” They threw their arms around me in a group hug. “What are you guys doing here?” When I’d initially spoken to Will’s sister about coming on holiday, she’d told me she and Lavender had work already booked, but they’d try and join us for lunch or dinner one day.

Sarah grinned. “The job we had got postponed. We needed sun, and it’s pouring today. It’s forecast to rain all week, actually. We might get called away if it fines up, but for now, we’re holidaying.”

“It’s so good to see you both.” I hadn’t seen them since the day they helped us smash RP apart. They’d both risked their lives for the cause, and they weren’t even agents. “How is everything?”

They shared an excited look. Hmm. They gave each other a nod, and Lavender turned to me. “We’re agents in training.”

“W—what?!” Oh, no. Didn’t I have enough loved ones to worry about?

Sarah grinned. “We’re going to be part-time and still do our fashion stuff on the side. We’ll be overflow agents when there are special cases. I think they want us for undercover stuff since we don’t look like agents at all. And after losing so many agents in the RP war, they need new recruits.” Not only had RP murdered agents when we attacked, some of the agents at headquarters and in Paris and Germany had been arrested afterwards for being secret RP members. They were pretty sure they’d uncovered all of them, but, unfortunately, we couldn’t be certain. And now, of course, they were super short-staffed.

“I can’t believe Chad is caving and putting more people on.” Unbelievably, he still had his job, and although Angelica had a job back, she’d been relegated to a position under my brother. It was utterly ridiculous. I’d asked her about it, but she’d told me not to worry and that someone was working on things behind the scenes. For the PIB’s sake, I sure hoped so. With the lack of funding and massive agent shortage, how long could they effectively fight crime?

Lavender made a tut-tut noise. “Don’t be silly, darling. We’re going to be working for the Paris office.”

“Right, well, Agent Roche is a good egg, so that makes sense. But please, please, please stay safe. Do you know how many people I’ve got to worry about?” Yes, I was making this about me, but after the year I’d had, surely some consideration was owed to my frayed nerves.

Lavender linked his arm through mine. “We’ll be most careful, Lilykins. And if we feel like we’re in over our heads, we know who to call.” He gave me a wink.

I groaned. “I’ve had enough battles to last a lifetime. I’m pretty sure killing Dana was me hitting my peak.” I still wasn’t sure how I’d managed to kill her when she had her return to sender up. Angelica had theorised that in her grief and fear, she wasn’t focussing her magic properly. There was also the fact that I was, apparently, one of the most powerful witches of our time, and in a battle of return to senders, the most powerful witch won. Turns out, that was me. Suck it, Piranha! To deflect any unwanted attention I might have received over being so powerful, we’d explained killing Dana as having been a joint-witch effort since no one from outside our trusted group actually saw what happened.

Lavender pouted. “But you wouldn’t just leave us to die, would you?”

I frowned. “Of course not.”

He patted my hand. “Good. That’s all I needed to know.” Sarah grinned.

“Argh! I’m such a sucker, aren’t I?”

She shrugged. “Maybe… but it’s why we love you. You just can’t help helping.”

“Hey, people.” Imani appeared out of the hubbub of everyone catching up. We returned her greeting, and there were more hugs. Talk about a hugfest. As much as I loved my friends, maybe we could call a moratorium on hugs for the remainder of the holiday. I’d had my monthly quota of them this morning.

Angelica clapped loudly, getting everyone’s attention. “Time to get this show on the road, people.” It was weird to see her in holiday-type clothes. If she wasn’t wearing her PIB uniform, she was always in something staid, like dark trousers and a grey, white or black collared shirt. Today, she wore flowy navy-blue pants and a navy-blue-and-white-striped sleeveless shirt with a low scooped neckline. Very summery. Her hair was still in its well-behaved bun though, which was probably a good thing, or we wouldn’t recognise her. I laughed to myself as we filed out the front double doors and into a large stone-paved square. Mmm, the warmth was good. Although the smell was… a bit off. Not terribly, but it wasn’t exactly fresh air. I’d heard about that. The canals usually smelled when it was warm. Oh well, a small price to pay for the Venetian experience.

Clusters of holidaymakers in bright, happy summer clothes strolled through the square, others—maybe people who lived here—stood in small groups, talking. This square seemed to be all hotels and homes—units, probably. Some buildings were brick and some were rendered but rundown looking, bits of render missing to reveal the red brick beneath.

Angelica led us across the paved expanse to a bridge. On the other side of the bridge, the pathway narrowed to only a few feet across and slid between buildings. The sun disappeared as shadows swallowed us. We had to walk two abreast to allow for the people coming the other way. And there were no cars. I knew there wouldn’t be cars, but seeing it was another thing. So weird, but so cool. Shopfronts crowded both sides of the path. Gift shops, mostly, and glass vendors selling Murano wares. I didn’t want to buy anything here though—I wanted to visit the island and see the glass-blowing for myself and maybe buy something