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  Party Ghoul

  THE VEGA BLOODMIRE WICKED WITCH MYSTERY

  SERIES

  A Lady of the Lake School for Girls Cozy Mystery

  BOOK 4

  SARINA DORIE

  Copyright © 2021 Sarina Dorie

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 979-8576034871

  WORKS BY SARINA DORIE

  COLLECTIONS OF FUNNY SHORT STORIES

  Fairies, Robots and Unicorns—Oh My!

  Ghosts, Werewolves and Zombies—Oh My!

  stand-alone Novels

  Dawn of the Morning Star

  Urban Changeling

  The Chronicles of Dartania

  Silent Moon

  Fairy Godmother Mysteries

  Wrath of the Tooth Fairy

  The Memory Thief Series

  Steamy Steampunk mysteries

  The Memory Thief

  The Geari Wife

  Clockwork Memories

  The Lost Memories of Meriwether Klark

  Silkpunk and Steam

  The Memory Keeper

  NOT-SO-COZY MYSTERIES

  IN THE Womby’s School for Wayward Witches SERIES listed in order

  Tardy Bells and Witches’ Spells

  Hex-Ed

  Witches Gone Wicked

  A Handful of Hexes

  Hexes and Exes

  Reading, Writing and Necromancy

  Budget Cuts for the Dark Arts and Crafts

  My Crazy Hex-Boyfriend

  Spell It Out for Me

  Hex Crimes

  Of Curse You Will

  Cackles and Cauldrons

  Hex and the City

  Wedding Bells and Midnight Spells

  Hex Appeal

  Safe Hex

  The Joy of Hex

  Hedgewitchin’ in the Kitchen

  The Trouble with Hedge witches SERIES

  The Witch of Nightmares

  A Cauldron Full of Curses

  A Pocket Full of Poison

  The Witch’s Familiar

  SON OF A SUCCUBUS SERIES

  A Familiar Magic

  Curse of the Witching Hour

  Magical Maladies for Beginners

  The Physics of Souls

  Incubus Charms

  A Vial Full of Magic

  A Devil of a Time

  SON OF A FAE SERIES

  A Court of Muses

  A Court of Faerie

  A Court of Nightmares

  A Court of Ravens

  A Court of Witchkin

  A Court of Magic and Monsters

  A Court of Shadows and Lies

  The vega bloodmire

  WICKED witch mystery series

  Too Ghoul for School

  Ghoulfriend

  Ghouls Just Wanna Have Fun

  Party Ghoul

  Ghoul Problems

  The Hex Files With Felix Thatch

  Paranormal Mystery series

  Talented and Goblin

  No Way in Spell

  Other Titles to Be Announced at www.sarinadorie.com

  Table of Contents

  WORKS BY SARINA DORIE

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  INTRODUCTION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A Preview of Tardy Bells and Witches' Spells

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This book in the Vega Bloodmire Wicked Witch Mystery Series takes place before she works at Womby’s School for Wayward Witches. This is a great opportunity to be introduced to the Witchkin and Fae world of magic and mystery. If you are reading this book after finishing the Womby’s series, I’m guessing you have enjoyed the other books as well, and I appreciate your enthusiasm for the series.

  If you are new and haven’t already signed up for my newsletter, I want to encourage you to do so. This helps me as an author connect to my readers, lets you know when books are being released, and gives me a way to gift you with free books and short stories.

  You can find the newsletter sign-up on my website: sarinadorie.com or you can go to:

  https://sarinadorie.com/newsletter-sign-up

  Happy reading!

  INTRODUCTION

  A Letter from Vega Bloodmire

  Dear Reader,

  This is a story of my humble beginnings. Believe it or not, there was a time before I was a Merlin-class Celestor, a wicked teacher extraordinaire at Womby’s School for Wayward Witches, and Queen of Everything. There was a time after my internship at Encantado Charter Academy that I was in between jobs and needed work.

  As you can imagine, being the most brilliant teacher at any school wasn’t easy. It was always up to me to figure out who was behind the latest murder and save the day because no one else was willing to get her hands dirty doing what needed to be done. So out of the kindness of my heart, I performed heroic deeds on behalf of my community.

  You’re welcome, world.

  Yours,

  Vega Bloodmire, Queen of Everything

  CHAPTER ONE

  Stopping to Smell the Roses

  The Gothic architecture of the magical boarding school where Vega Bloodmire had once gone to high school loomed over her. She strode along the courtyard path toward the front entrance of Lady of the Lake School for Girls. She was dressed to kill in all black, from the spike of her high heels to the angle of her sharp bob. She intended to look formidable and professional, like a witch who knew how to command.

  White roses as fair as her complexion had been cut from bushes near the path. They were lined up, each the size of dinner plates, one row on each side of the path, as if they were an offering to signal the arrival of a queen. Vega held her head high, imagining she was that queen.

  As long as she exuded confidence and authority, no one would know how desperate she was. There was probably a spell to reduce sweaty palms, but Vega Bloodmire had never needed it until this moment.

  This was no ordinary job interview. Today would determine her fate—either she would be doomed to slave away at manual labor in the broom factory all summer, or she would land the position of becoming the flyer-education program’s summer teacher—which included free room and board. With this job, she would have access to the library so she could study for her Merlin-class Celestor exam to prove she was a learned and powerful witch.

  Best of all, this was her chance to prove herself as a competent teacher in the hope the principal would hire her full time.

  Intent on making a good impression, Vega had not stayed out all night Friday drinking and dancing to unwind after the long year of her internship as a student teacher. She thought she had done an admirable job getting to bed before two in the morning and squeezing in five hours of beauty sleep—not that she needed it with how gorgeous she was.

  But she had needed two cups of the magic elixir of life—coffee.

  Vega would show the principal she was perfect for this job. She would prove to Mrs. Gordmayer that she wasn’t the immature and immoral person she had been in high school when she had attended Lady of the Lake School for Girls as a student. Vega had
her résumé, had prepared interview questions, and had practiced people skills—as elusive as the latter was. Nothing would stop her.

  Except a pebble in her shoe.

  She paused on the front step before the ornate double doors of the building, digging a red-painted fingernail under her heel to excavate the rock. As she did so, she happened to glance over at the rosebushes bordering the stairs and decorating the front of the school.

  Statues of garden gnomes about one foot tall stood in poses around the bushes. All five of them wore red pointed hats and long white beards, looking like miniature versions of Santa Claus. Vega had never noticed these statues before. Perhaps they were new decorations. If so, they needed to fire the decorator.

  She flicked the pebble out of her high heel, hitting one of the tacky garden gnomes. Their eyes glinted at her like real eyes.

  Hopefully, the pebble wasn’t a sign that she was going to have a rocky start today. She glanced back at the roses lining the path. Those were a far better omen.

  It took Vega three minutes to arrive at the administration wing. She was early, hopefully that showed enthusiasm, not desperation.

  Even if she was desperate.

  Mr. Gordmayer, the secretary—and the principal’s husband—sat behind his desk, filing papers. He was tan and athletic, more attractive than most middle-aged men. Like Vega, he could pass as human, unlike some Witchkin descended from a mix of Fae and human ancestry.

  He greeted her with a friendly smile. “Good morning, Ms. Bloodmire. So nice to see you! Can I offer you a cookie while you wait?” He reached for the tin of cookies behind his desk. “I have gingersnaps and shortbread.”

  “That is a kind offer, but no. I have food sensitivities.” No matter how many times she’d told him that in her teenage years, he’d always forgotten. She’d only accepted a cookie from him once. The butter and eggs had given her a stomachache.

  “Oh, yes, that’s right.” He nodded. “I forgot about your allergies.”

  They weren’t allergies. They were sensitivities. Almost all animal products hurt her digestive tract. If she consumed meat, the consequences were far worse. The way flesh from animals—or humans—forced her ghoulish transformation was one side effect of her demonic lineage battling with the human heritage inside her.

  Not that Vega was about to reveal she was descended from demons rather than the more acceptable high Fae like many others. It would be one more mark against her if people knew her secret.

  A very big mark.

  The principal’s door was closed, but Vega could hear her speaking on the other side. She seated herself in the waiting area. She listened as the principal’s voice rose. She could only make out a few words here and there, not enough to know what Mrs. Gordmayer was angry about. Vega considered whether she could cast an eavesdropping charm without the secretary noticing. Probably not.

  Vega wanted to assume the irate shouting had nothing to do with her, but she couldn’t help thinking of all the times the principal had used that tone with her as a student. She hoped this appointment wasn’t a mistake.

  Mr. Sebastian Reade arrived in the office a moment later. He was an owlish man, his brown eyes magnified by his glasses. His thin brown hair matched his brown suit, which he’d chosen to wear on a Saturday at the end of the school year. She was certain he would have been able to go home today if it hadn’t been for today’s meeting.

  Mr. Reade waved to Vega, his face brightening. He had been her foreign language teacher in high school and her favorite teacher.

  Vega smiled. “Good morning, sir. It’s nice to see you.”

  “Sorry about all this hubbub with a job interview. I thought we would just be going over details this morning to hand the job off to you.” He grimaced. “But I suppose since you aren’t one of our current staff, the principal wanted to make sure you had the proper licensing and whatnot.”

  The principal’s voice rose from the other side of the door. “I have an infestation! How can you tell me nothing can be done about it?”

  Vega wondered if someone had cursed Principal Gordmayer with locusts.

  The secretary cleared his throat. “Can I offer anyone a cookie? I baked them fresh this week.”

  Mr. Reade went over for a cookie.

  A moment later, the shouting ceased. The door to the principal’s office burst open.

  Principal Allegra Gordmayer was dressed in an all-black no-nonsense pantsuit that matched her conical witch hat. The sides of her short haircut were spiky and sassy. Blue eyes as cold as ice fixed on Vega from behind purple horn-rimmed glasses with rhinestones. Compared to her husband, she looked downright ancient, but one could never really be certain of how old or young someone was when they were descended from Fae.

  Mrs. Gordmayer’s expression was stern and formidable. If Vega’s mother, Mrs. Nashira Bloodmire, and the principal got into a staring contest, it was difficult to say who would win.

  “You may enter.” Mrs. Gordmayer looked Vega up and down, scrutinizing every detail of her appearance. “Let’s get this interview over, shall we?” Her gaze lingered on Vega’s glittering black shoes.

  If there was one thing Vega counted on being flawless, it was her impeccable sense of fashion. Her rhinestone heels hadn’t failed her yet.

  “Where did you get those shoes?” the principal asked, her tone sharp.

  Vega couldn’t tell whether the principal was envious or startled.

  She was so taken aback by the question, the truth left her before she had time to lie. “A vintage shop.”

  Heat flushed to her face as she realized her slip. Respectable ladies from prestigious noble families didn’t shop at secondhand stores. The principal might realize Vega had been disowned, and her fashion treasure in the form of high heels had only cost her twenty-five dollars.

  Vega was saved by Mr. Reade, who started toward the principal’s office with her, a shortbread cookie in hand.

  The principal put up a hand to stop him. “Not you. Ms. Bloodmire is an adult. I trust she is mature enough to handle a job interview without anyone’s help.”

  “Oh, certainly.” Mr. Reade gave Vega an apologetic wave, his brow crinkling up with worry. “I’ll just be waiting out here if anyone needs me.”

  He acted as though Vega were about to be tortured by a wicked witch. Perhaps she was.

  Vega wondered whether this was going to be an interview or an interrogation. She was starting to have misgivings. This felt too much like all the times Vega had been called into the principal’s office in high school. Not that her detentions hadn’t been warranted, but she was a different person now. Vega was mature—and her nemesis wasn’t a student at this school anymore.

  The principal closed the door of the office, the sound like the lid of a coffin thudding with finality.

  Mrs. Gordmayer’s office was everything a principal at the most prestigious boarding school for Witchkin deserved. The principal sat in front of giant windows that led to a balcony overlooking picturesque grounds. One wall was covered in an elegant display of rare books. A tasteful Roman statue of a woman reading while nude stood before the shelves, so lifelike she looked as though she had been turned to stone by a gorgon.

  The high vaulted ceiling was covered with a celestial mural, blocked by the impressive skeleton of a dragon, the bones as polished as the marble statue. The body of the dragon rivaled the size of an elephant, and the long neck and tail were curled in a circle that spanned the circumference of the ceiling.

  As Vega sat in her chair, she did her best not to glance up at the accusing stare of the dragon’s hollow eye sockets.

  The principal settled back in a comfortable chair befitting a queen. “What makes you think you’re qualified for this job?” Her tone suggested that she didn’t think Vega possessed the necessary skills.

  Vega folded her hands on her lap as someone confident and poised might do. “I was on the air pelota team in high school, and I managed to fly well enou
gh to dodge ice and fireballs while flying. I have experience teaching in a classroom. Last year during my internship, I took over for my supervising teacher when he died. I was granted a temporary license for the school year, but I’ll receive my permanent one later in the month.”

  Mr. Reade had told Vega the day before that all those details would be in her favor.

  Mrs. Gordmayer tapped a nail against the crystal ball on her desk. “How did your supervising teacher die?”

  “A heart attack.” That was what Vega’s former principal had wanted everyone to believe anyway.

  Mrs. Gordmayer’s eyes narrowed. “I heard it was murder.”

  So she knew? Probably she had only asked Vega to see if she’d tell the truth.

  Now Vega had to backtrack and look like a liar. “It was murder—and a heart attack.” Vega stared into the principal’s eyes, not flinching. “His heart exploded because someone hexed him. I caught the murderer.”

  “Of course you did.” Mrs. Gordmayer’s tone was patronizing. “No one ever just dies of natural causes when you’re around. They either burn, are attacked, or fall through an unstable portal.”

  The last comment stung like a slap in the face. Vega’s brittle hold on her façade of confidence faltered, her voice quavering. “The Unseen Realm is dangerous. Magic is dangerous.”

  Especially when in the hands of hormonal, emotionally volatile teenagers. Vega couldn’t stop herself from thinking of her friends who had died during her teenage years by using portals incorrectly.

  For years she had told herself she wasn’t to blame. Mrs. Gordmayer’s accusation hung in the air between them.

  Mrs. Gordmayer stared at Vega levelly. “You have an uncanny talent for finding yourself in the vicinity of people about to die.”

  Vega swallowed. That curse had started with her sister, though her grandma had searched her for jinxes, hexes, or other magical ailments, insisting there was no curse. Life in the Unseen Realm was simply hard. Fae attacked. People died. If a witch wanted normal and ordinary, she could be drained of magic and go live in the Morty Realm.