Westerham Witches and a Venetian Vendetta Dionne Lister (e manga reader .txt) 📖

The crying stopped, and she sniffled. She stepped back and wiped her hand across her eyes and down her cheeks, then onto her knee-length green skirt. Lifting her head, she pinned me with a steadfast gaze. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Church bells tolled, their melodic chimes falling around us and echoing throughout the laneway. If I closed my eyes, I could believe I was in the seventeenth century. The atmospheric ringing was something I’d miss when we left. Hopefully wherever Angelica was, she was alive and could hear those bells. A vibration of unease cascaded down my spine. I shuddered. Since I’d killed Dana and her dad, I’d managed to lead a peaceful few weeks. It was as if I wasn’t ready for more danger. Did I have PTSD? Could witches get it? We probably could because we were still human. Nah, I didn’t have it. Sure, I had nightmares sometimes and found it hard to fall asleep, but other than that, I’d been okay. I took a deep breath and shook it off. “Come on, then.”

We began the short walk back to the hotel. By the time we reached the front door, my hands were sweating, and I was breathing way faster than what I should’ve been for a leisurely walk.

“Are you okay?” Imani gently held my chin and looked into my eyes.

“I’m, um…. I think I’m okay. Maybe I’m stressing because I don’t want to put any of us in danger. I don’t know.” Or maybe I could tell that something bad was going to happen. Argh, stop thinking, Lily!

She released my chin and put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Lily. We need to save Angelica, and I’m pretty sure that nothing is going to happen right now. Maybe you should look into some counselling when we get home?”

“You’re right. I know you are. Everything will be fine, as long as we find Angelica alive and well. And maybe I will see someone when I get home, but in the meantime, what do I do?”

“Adrenaline is part of the problem. You need to slow your breathing. Just take deep, slow breaths. Okay?” Her magic tickled my scalp, and comforting warmth settled around me. How was she doing that? I’d have to ask her later.

She’d used her magic to help me feel better—the least I could do was do as she’d asked. “Okay.” A pleasant memory blossomed in my head—the squirrels on the day we left to come here. I envisaged all my furry friends sitting around their miniature table, nibbling away. They were so cute! My heart stopped pounding, and the feeling of impending doom faded. I wiped my hands dry on my olive-green shorts. I could do this. Angelica needed me to do this. I nodded. “I’m ready.”

Mum opened the door and held it for Imani and me. Mrs D wasn’t at the front desk—the young man who’d taken our bags stood behind it, watching us come in. I gave him a wave. “Buongiorno.” One of the only Italian non-food words I knew.

He gave a tentative smile. “Buongiorno.” His smile disappeared, and he stared at the desktop. Bit of a shy fellow, apparently.

I stopped walking and addressed my companions. “We haven’t taken any photos in the hotel yet! I want to remember this holiday forever. Plus, James will want to see the place. He could bring Mill here one day.”

“Great idea.” Mum smiled. “Where do you want us to stand?”

I shrugged. “Halfway between me and the bar. We can take photos in the bar later.” I winked, and Mum and Imani laughed.

Imani tapped her nose with her index finger. “I’m onto you, lovie.”

“What can I say? Those cocktails are to die for.” Argh, why did I have to use that expression? I did not want to die for any reason, let alone for a cocktail. Way to remind myself about stressful stuff. I had a real knack for saying the wrong thing, even if I was just thinking to myself. Sheesh. Please let Angelica be okay.

Mum and Imani placed themselves further down the hallway and faced me, each with an arm around the back of the other. I lifted my phone and opened myself up to my internal magic and my talent. In my mind, I said, Show me Mr Dal Lago the last time he was here. Where did he go straight from this hallway? To Mum and Imani, I said, “Smile.”

The lights dimmed in my screen, the hallway lit only by a couple of wall sconces. Mr Dal Lago’s back was to me, at the far end of the hall, at the door next to the bar area entry—the office. His hand was on the doorknob, and he was by himself. I snapped a shot of him, then closed off my magic and snapped a pic of Mum and Imani—I might as well have some nice snaps too. “Lovely! Just what I wanted. Let’s get a drink.” We were spending so much time in the bar, the bartender probably thought we were alcoholics.

I ordered the drinks and took note of the bartender’s magic as he created them in a jiffy. Hmm, he was a bit more powerful than Mrs D, but not by much. He likely wasn’t our guy, unless he’d teamed up with her and they’d somehow managed it together. He magicked the drinks onto a tray and grinned. “Ciao, beautiful. Are you enjoying your stay?”

Oh, he was a charmer, even after telling me not to touch him earlier. Maybe he was desperate for a tip. Great. “Ah, yes, thank you. Venice is beautiful.”

“Just like you.” He leaned one elbow on the bar and waggled his eyebrows. “Want me to show you around later? I can show you all the pleasures of… Venice.” Wow, what a proposition. How was I ever going to resist?

“Um, thank you, but no. I’m here with my fiancée. I held up my hand and showed him my