Vintage Vampire

  Vintage Vampire

  Southern Relics Cozy Mysteries

  Bella Falls

  Evermore Press

  Copyright © 2020 by Bella Falls

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author, except where permitted by law or for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Also by Bella Falls

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Hextra Free Stories

  Series Order

  Series Order

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Bella Falls

  Southern Relics Cozy Mysteries

  Flea Market Magic

  Rags To Witches

  Pickup and Pirates

  Vintage Vampire

  Bargain Haunting

  A Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Series

  Moonshine & Magic: Book 1

  Lemonade & Love Potions: A Cozy Short

  Fried Chicken & Fangs: Book 2

  Sweet Tea & Spells: Book 3

  Barbecue & Brooms: Book 4

  Collards & Cauldrons: Book 5

  Red Velvet & Reindeer: A Cozy Short

  Cornbread & Crossroads: Book 6

  Preserves & Premonitions: Book 7

  *All audiobooks available are narrated by the wonderful and talented Johanna Parker

  For a FREE exclusive copy of the prequel to the Southern Charms series, Chess Pie & Choices, sign up for my newsletter!

  Share recipes, talk about Southern Charms and all things cozy mysteries, and connect with me by joining my reader group Southern Charms Cozy Companions!

  Chapter One

  Sweat trickled down my neck, and strands of my hair stuck like glue to my skin as I assisted Bubba, our newest employee, in securing an old writing desk in the back of one of our business trucks. The humidity hung in the air so thick that I might as well have skipped the shower I took earlier. With all the things we planned to sell tonight, it took longer than usual to load up the truck.

  I wiped my face off on the sleeve of my shirt. “I hope this is all. Whew! I’m sweatin’ like a hog!”

  “Should I take offense to that?” Deacon snuffled his flat nose at me as he waddled up next to the vehicle.

  My cousin used to be one of the biggest players with women I’d ever known until the night he messed with the wrong witch. Somehow, she’d cursed him into the form of a pig, saying he deserved to be what he truly was before she took off forever. Ever since then, none of us had been able to free him from his animal form and return him to normal no matter what we tried. Until tonight.

  I moseyed over to the edge of the truck bed and sat down on the opened tailgate, swinging my cowboy boots as I talked to my cousin. “You know I wasn’t talking about you, Deac. Even in that pig form of yours, you gotta feel that it’s hotter than a pepper sprout. If we had a pool out here, it’d be boilin’ by now.”

  “That’s what mud’s for. A good wallow will keep me cool most days. Oink. Snort.” My cousin squealed his enthusiasm. “Of course, Dad gave me a good hosing off so I could look good tonight.”

  After promising my aunt and uncle that we would put all our focus on finding a cure for Deacon, we’d experienced more frustration than hope. Even with Auggie as the coven’s new librarian, the former professor hadn’t been able to track down an effective spell or magical method to change my cousin back other than to track down the original witch who cast the hex in the first place and convince her to reverse the curse.

  “Your skin is practically glowing,” I complimented. “I’ll bet you get lots of attention at the market.”

  “It won’t be anything like before,” he grunted.

  In his human form, Deacon used to make heads turn wherever he went. Even from his teenage years, men admired him for his strength and women swooned over his devilish good looks.

  “Well, your mother and sister have all their fingers and toes crossed for you, and Granny Jo sends you all her love.” The pendant around my neck warmed against my skin. I pulled on the chain to retrieve it with my fingers. “Oh, and Granddad insisted he wanted to come with us. You wanna wear the medallion for good luck?”

  My thumb stroked the outline of an elephant on the brass coin that my ancestors had made into a necklace. Because of its magical nature, any of the numerous family ghosts had the ability to occupy the object and “ride” in it, especially if we were doing something related to the family business. Granddad still liked to help find the best bargains when he could.

  “Nah, you keep him with you,” Deacon insisted with a grunt. “You’ll feel his influence quicker than my tough hide. And we need all the help we can get.”

  A shrill whistle interrupted our conversation, and Uncle Jo waved his hat in the air as he approached.

  Bubba came over, checking off a list in a small notepad. “Do you think we’ve got everything we need, Mr. Jewell?”

  “Yes,” my father and uncle replied at the same time.

  With a snicker, I jumped down from the tailgate. Dad eased himself off the back of the truck with more grace than me. “All the pieces we’re bringing with us are secure. But I don’t think we’ll have enough room for everyone to ride.” He glanced at my cousin.

  “That’s okay, we can follow behind in Ol’ Bessie,” I offered, pulling my keys from my pocket. “Give me two ticks and I’ll bring her around.”

  Buddy, our resident barn cat, chased after me as I hustled with quick feet to my little cottage situated on the back of our family’s land. Even though the place was small, it possessed the best view of the Bogue Sound and was the perfect size for just me. Plus, it had the advantage of not being crowded with ghosts.

  The cat meowed and scratched at my front door before I got into Bessie’s front seat. I sighed and gave in to his begging, scratching him behind his ear. “Is it too hot for you, Bud? I swear, you’re gonna turn into a terrible barn cat if you keep coming to my place to enjoy the air conditioning.”

  The second I unlocked the door and opened it just a crack, the cat zipped inside and disappeared. I’d taken to leaving out a bowl of water and some kibble in the kitchen just in case, so I left him to the cooler air and locked the door.

  It took an extra try and a heap of patience to get Bessie’s old engine to turn over, but once it did, the whole vehicle shimmied with every step on the gas to rev her to life. Easing her onto the dirt road, I drove the old pickup back to the barn and parked it behind the loaded truck.

  Uncle Jo and Dad carried a large slab of wood they’d found somewhere in the recesses of the barn. After dropping the tailgate, they leaned the lumber against the truck and adjusted it to the perfect angle.

  With the engine idling, I opened my door to see if I could help. Uncle Jo walked to the middle of their makeshift ramp and jumped up and down. “See? I told you it was sturdy enough.”

&nb
sp; “It’s not an issue of whether or not it’ll hold me, Dad,” Deacon complained. “When you said I was going with you tonight, you didn’t tell me it would be in the back.”

  My heart ached for my cousin. I didn’t blame him for his resentment even when we were trying to help him.

  Walking to the back, I crouched down so I could look Deacon in the eyes. “I know that you’ve been in this state far too long. I think we always assumed the solution would present itself to us sooner or later. I’m sorry it’s been so much later.” I scratched the tufts of thick, wiry hair on the top of his head.

  The pig leaned close enough to me he almost knocked me over. “I know you’ve all been trying, oink. I just want my life back.”

  I kissed his hammy forehead. “If you climb into the back of Ol’ Bessie, then we can be on our way to the Midnight Market. It’s a new moon plus a solstice. I’d say our luck is supercharged.”

  My uncle nodded at me in gratitude as his son lumbered up the ramp into the back of the truck. On the bed, Dad had stacked some moving blankets we used to transport furniture, giving Deacon a comfortable place to settle.

  “Let’s get on the road,” Uncle Jo commanded, crawling into the passenger side with me. He shimmied the window at the back of the cab open so he could talk to his son if he needed to.

  I placed my straw cowboy hat on my head and slipped the tape I’d selected from the glove box into the cassette player. Music from one of Deacon’s favorite bands blared out of the speakers, and I risked my uncle’s and my hearing by cranking the Florida Georgia Line’s song about cruising loud enough for my cousin to hear. Rolling the windows down, we let the melody and wind blow past us on our way.

  When we approached the designated area for the market, we slowed down to talk to a guy sitting in the middle of an empty field. He finished his sip of his drink and slid the can back into the holder in his camping chair. With a grin, he shoved himself out of the hammock-style seat and strolled over to talk to my father in the truck ahead of us. After a few minutes, he waved our first vehicle through but held out his hand in front of us.

  “Howdy, y’all. Name’s Pete.” He grinned wide, revealing a few teeth missing from his smile. Taking a more authoritative stance, the man straightened and cleared his throat. “Cicadas chirp their nightly tune. The stars, they twinkle in the sky.”

  I looked to my uncle to provide the response to the secret code. He shoved a meaty hand into his pocket, then checked the other one in a panic.

  “Oh shoot, Buck’s got the paper with the code words written down with him.” Uncle Jo crowded closer to me and yelled out the window in his friendliest tone, “Don’t suppose my brother’s pass could extend to us as well. You should find our names on the list. That’d be Jewell with two L’s.”

  Pete shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. Either you have the key to get in or you don’t. Can’t let you stay out here neither.”

  I retrieved my spell phone but cursed under my breath. “It won’t work this close to the market.” If Uncle Jo couldn’t remember the rest of the code, then we wouldn’t be going any further.

  While I repeated the phrases to my uncle, the guard got a little bored and took a closer look at the contents in the back of our truck. “You fixing to sell a pig tonight? Must be something special about it.”

  “I’m not an it, I’m a he,” Deacon corrected, causing the startled man to jump back a few steps.

  “Well, I’ll be. A talking pig. Don’t that beat all,” Pete mused, taking his trucker hat off his head to scratch it. “I’ll bet he’ll fetch a pretty penny to the right buyer.”

  My uncle glanced at his watch. “It’s getting close to opening time. Is there any way you could let us in this one time?”

  Pete sighed. “Rules are rules, I’m sorry.”

  My stomach dropped, and I wondered how we’d get word to Dad that we were stuck outside the market. Worse yet, how would I be able to lessen the blow to Deacon.

  “But,” the guard continued. “Since you made my night with a talking pig, I’ll give you a clue.” Pete pointed at the field.

  Uncle Jo huffed in exasperation. “I don’t see anything other than a dark field.

  “Shh,” Pete scolded. “Just hush and watch. Whaddya see?”

  I turned off the engine and stuck my head out of the window. A night breeze battled the humid heat that still lingered after a long, hot day. Crickets chirped and the buzz of cicadas filled the air. Tiny lights hovering close to the ground blinked on and off across the entire expanse.

  “Ooh, I think I’ve got it,” I said, slapping the side of the truck. “Say the first part again.”

  Pete chuckled and obeyed. “Cicadas sing their nightly tune. The stars, they twinkle in the skies.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I repeated the words under my breath. With a snap of my fingers, my eyes flew open, and I recalled the rest. “My way is lost without no moon unless I’m led by fireflies.”

  “Well done,” the amused guard complimented. “You know your country song history.”

  Turning the engine over with a roar, I let the truck idle. “I’ve got some family members who like the oldies.” I thought of Granny Jo singing off-key in the kitchen while frying food in the skillet.

  Pete pointed down the dirt road in front of us. “Follow it until you pass through the veil. Feel free to pull up closer to the entrance to unload before you park.”

  I thanked him with a tip of my hat, and he bowed a little in response. We pulled forward and bounced over potholes and other divots in the dirt until we reached the edge of the woods.

  The pressure of magical energy tingled over my hands and down my arms as we drove through the glamour cast to hide the market. The bronze of the elephant coin warmed, and I braced myself for the full effect.

  “Hold on, Deac,” I shouted through the small window at the back.

  It felt a little like what I imagined toothpaste would when being squeezed out of its tube. Once past the magical barrier that kept out mortals, we drove through the woods until we spotted some glittering lights up ahead.

  Breaking through the dark thicket of trees, we entered the parking area in front of the Midnight Market. Several large tents of varying bright colors stood in the middle of the clearing. On the east edge, open-air stalls offered more room for the smaller goods to be sold. A few food trucks lined the west side, and the scent of food wafted through the open window. I hoped we’d find what we came for fast enough for us to at least try some samples.

  A ginormous guy who looked like a mix between a troll and a Sasquatch wearing a bright orange vest stopped us with his enormous paw of a hand. He leaned down to see through my window.

  “Buying or selling?” he asked in a deep, rumbling voice.

  “Both,” I replied. “My dad should have already checked in for his slot. Last name’s Jewell.”

  The giant of a man ran a thick finger down the sheets of paper, tapping the clipboard. “Here you are. Yes, you’ve been checked into space 147, which is under the green tent over there.” He gestured in the right direction.

  Uncle Jo leaned across me. “Has the seller Mystic Misty checked in yet? We’re supposed to meet with her.”

  With another look, the guy nodded. “Yes, looks like she’s in one of the outside stalls.” He stepped to the side to take a gander into the back of the truck. “Is it for sale? Your animal?”

  “No, he’s not. We’re here to purchase something specifically for him tonight,” I said, hoping not to get interrogated with more complicated questions. “So, we’ll be bringing him with us.”

  The guy scratched his chin. “That’s a bit unusual, but I guess not out of the realm of tonight’s market.” He tore off a piece of paper with an orange tag stuck to it and handed it to us. “This will let you park in the lot around back with the other sellers. Please make sure your animal’s secure and won’t run loose or cause problems.”

  “I can control myself, thank you, oink,” Deacon complained.

&nb
sp; The protruding brow of the troll-like man lifted into his shaggy hairline and he guffawed with merriment. “Well, all right then. Take the path to the right of the tents to the parking lot in the back, please.”

  Uncle Jo pointed out a free spot at the very end of the first row of vehicles. He hopped out and directed me so I could back the truck into the space. The tailgate was dropped by the time I secured the cab and got out. My uncle and I positioned ourselves on either side and assisted Deacon onto solid footing on the ground.

  My cousin shook his entire body from snout to curly tail and smacked his chops a couple of times. “You know, this is the first time I’ve been out late at night in too long. I wonder if this Misty we’re looking for is cute.”

  “Seriously?” I barked at him. “Need I remind you exactly how you got yourself into that form in the first place?”

  Deacon cocked his bulbous head toward me. “Hey, give me a break. I can’t help being who I am despite my outer appearance.”

  Uncle Jo shrugged his shoulders when I looked to him for support. “Let’s stop wasting time and make our way down the outside stalls. I’d like to make the transaction before things pick up.” He slung a bag full of Deacon’s clothes over his shoulder just in case we found what we needed to return my cousin back to his former glory.

  I followed behind my uncle, keeping careful watch over Deacon and whoever eyed him with a little too much interest. We’d already been asked twice if he was for sale, and I didn’t want anyone else getting any ideas. Once the market opened at midnight, the place would be teeming with potential buyers, and more than a few would probably offer a hefty price for a talking pig.