Spells Trouble by Kristin Cast (mystery books to read .txt) 📕

Kirk adjusted his pads and jutted his broad chin in Jax’s direction. “Calm down, butterfingers.”

Jax threw his hands into the air. “Dude, I dropped one ball.”

“But it could have been the ball, Ashley.”

“Guys!” Hunter clapped. “We’re trying to ask you to participate in a spell to keep the town safe.”

Jax’s forehead wrinkled. “But our town is super safe,” he said. “Most of the time, my dad doesn’t even lock the front door.” He gripped his collar with both hands and rested his forearms against his chest. “Is that because of you? Have the Goodes been, like, spell-casting vigilantes?”

Mercy dug the toe of her sneaker into the gravel. “Not exactly.”

“I was gonna say, if you are, you’ve been doing a terrible job. Emily’s dad was just murdered and so was that old guy…” Kirk’s temples pulsed as he searched for the completion of his thought. “Oh, you know.” He jabbed Jax with his elbow. “That old guy who wouldn’t ever let us use his truck in the Rooster Days Parade even though it’s one hundred percent Mustang red.”

“Mr. Thompson?” Mercy supplied.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Sweat leapt from Kirk’s scalp as he brushed his hand through his hair. “Wonder if we can use his truck now?”

“Anyway.” Hunter didn’t keep the disdain from twisting her features. “What we need you guys to do is simple.”

“You’ll each go to a tree and wait for our signal and then light a candle and say a few words and do some other simple, witchy stuff.” Mercy continued Hunter’s thought in a way only her twin sister could. “Piece of cake,” she said with another clap. “Oh, this has to happen tonight. At about sunset. And you’ll need to bring a gift.”

Jax wrinkled his freckled nose. “For the tree?”

Mercy tugged on the hem of her pink T-shirt. “Kind of.”

Kirk rubbed his hand against his barely there chin fuzz. “So, you want us to pick a tree and bring it, like, some earrings or something? And that’ll keep the town safe?”

Mercy chewed her bottom lip. “Well, uh, yeah. I mean—”

Kirk shook his head. “Sorry, but you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“Yeah, I’m not even sure what I’d buy a tree. Lights, maybe?” Jax rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.

Hunter and Mercy hadn’t thought this through. They were supposed to get Jax and Kirk to agree to participate in a spell by saying it would protect the town. Sure, that was a valid reason, but if she and Mercy had slowed down and really thought about it, they would have realized help the town and get trees presents made them sound crazy. And not witchy crazy, crazy crazy.

Hunter took a deep breath. If Mercy could get people to do almost anything, so could she. “There are five gates in Goodeville. Each is represented by a different type of super old tree that’s definitely not native to Illinois. In order to keep the town safe, we have to make sure these gates stay closed. The gift we need you to bring is just a representation of the original place the tree came from. It all stems from a lot of ancient witchy magic stuff that’s been going on for centuries.” Hunter clasped her hands behind her back to keep from picking at her fingernails.

Jax tilted his head. “Real gates or symbolic gates?” he asked.

Hunter’s fingers betrayed her, found a hangnail, and tugged. “Real gates.” She winced.

Jax shared a look with Kirk before turning back to Hunter. “To actual places?”

Mercy sucked in a breath. “Well, not—”

“Yes,” Hunter interrupted. At this point, it didn’t matter if Jax and Kirk drove through the whole town with a bullhorn yelling about Goodeville being full of weird old trees and witchy gates. Everyone would think they were crazy crazy, too.

Jax dragged his crooked teeth along his bottom lip. “Bad places?”

Hunter rolled her answer across her tongue, smoothing out the rough edges. “Just different. What’s over there doesn’t belong here, and what’s over here doesn’t belong there.”

Jax nodded. “Cool.”

“Cool?” Kirk took a step back the same way he had that night on the porch before the grief spell. But that hadn’t been in front of his precious babe, the girl he’d do anything for.

Jax hiked a shoulder. “I’m not going to pretend like I totally understand, but I know H. If she needs my help, I’m there.”

Hunter crammed her hands into her pockets. She’d lied to her best friend. Her sweet, trusting, perfect best friend. It was for a good cause. She and Mercy had decided not to tell the boys the complete truth, but Hunter hadn’t expected that to make lying so easy. She swallowed as guilt flooded her stomach with the same prickly swiftness as her first and only drink of vodka. But this guilt wasn’t for the half-truths, the lies. This guilt that lapped hot against her stomach was for its absence. Hunter hadn’t felt bad for lying. She hadn’t felt anything.

Kirk shuffled back toward the group, twitching like a fly. “Yeah, of course. I mean, I’m always there for Hunter and Mercy.”

“Whitfield!” Coach Jamison’s holler made Hunter flinch.

Kirk turned and waved an acknowledgment to the stout, balding man before turning back to Mercy. “Coach needs me, but I won’t be long. He’ll make the JV squad stay and practice, but the A Team is done.” He pressed against her like a shadow.

“You’re so sweaty.” Mercy giggled and made a show of pushing her hands against her boyfriend’s padded chest in disgust just to lean in closer.

Hunter rolled her eyes in her best friend’s direction. She’d expected Jax to return the exacerbated expression. Instead, his temples pulsed and his gaze narrowed at Kirk. The last time she’d seen him like that, he’d reached across the cafeteria table and punched Spencer Burke in the face for calling her a dykey poon bag. Jax had gotten detention and, to this day, neither he nor Hunter knew exactly what a poon bag was.

“Don’t leave yet. I’ll be done in