Charming as a Killer (Keepers of Enchantment Book 1), page 1
CHARMING AS A KILLER
Keepers of Enchantment Book 1
KENDRA MORENO
Copyright © 2023 by Kendra Moreno
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Illustration by Ashley Walters
Cover Typography by Methyss Art
Proofreading by Turbo Kitten Industries
Formatting by The Nutty Formatter
CONTENTS
Prologue
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Continue the Adventure…
About Kendra Moreno
Also By Kendra
To Dexter the Rooster
Who no matter how often I feed him,
he still does a little, threatening dance every time I walk outside.
Your dance makes me happy, tiny chicken.
PROLOGUE
“Look at me, Jack. I need you to look at me when I’m speaking to you. This is important.”
Ma was always talking about “this is important” and “that is important.” Honestly, I don’t take much of what she says as too important at all, but there are always far more interesting things to do than work on the meager farm she and I are trying desperately to keep. Pa went off and disappeared a while ago. Apparently, he went to the drinking hole one night and never came back. Ma said he probably went to find us more money, but I’m old enough to know what it means when adults go out and don’t come back. I’ve watched it happen to a few of my friends. The resentment I have towards my Pa for going and leaving me here to take his place is strong for a twelve-year-old, but despite that, Ma needs me, and I can’t let her down.
Even if I think half of her ideas are silly.
“I’m listening, Ma,” I groan as I continue lifting the firewood onto the pile by the house. We’re going to need it judging by the way the clouds are rolling in. The Enchanted Forest isn’t merciful when winter comes. Those who struggle will succumb to her eternal sleep. At least, that’s what the local churches go on about. I don’t know much about gods or damnation. What I know is that those gods aren’t chopping my wood for me or piling it up. We make our own fate. Pa taught me that at least.
“I need you to take Old Bessy to the market—”
“Old Bessy?” I growl, pausing my movements to stare at Ma. “She’s all we’ve got left, Ma. We can’t go selling her.”
“We must,” Ma chides, her arms wrapped around her for warmth. “The cold snap is coming and . . . we don’t have any food left, Jack. If we don’t sell Old Bessy, we’re going to starve before the cold even gets here. I know I’ve been asking you for a lot but—”
“You don’t have to apologize or anything,” I grumble, shouldering the last of the wood into the pile. “It’s Pa’s fault we’re in this situation. Not yours.”
“Pa’s coming home, Jack. I know it.”
I turn and look at my mother, at the strain around her eyes, at the lines starting to etch into her face. The stress is apparent in the dark rings around her too large eyes. Her lips are tight with that same stress. She’s trying to hide it, but no one can hide such bone deep exhaustion for long before it begins to leak into your posture. I’m young, but I’m not stupid.
“Whatever you say, Ma,” I murmur before glancing over at the ramshackle barn Old Bessy stays in. Honestly, it’s not good enough to keep a cow alive through the winter anyway. Old Bessy will likely freeze when we need her the most. Taking her to market would ensure she lives to tell her tale and it would give us a few gold coins to last until Spring.
Hopefully.
But I’m going to need to leave now if I’m going to make it to the market before everyone starts shutting down.
“Do we have anything else to take to market?” I ask as I wipe my hands on my trousers. “I know you’ve been knitting.”
Ma shakes her head. “The best I’ve got is a sweater, but I knitted it for you. I didn’t have enough yarn to make much more than that.” She glances away and I can see her sadness. “We’re going to make it, Jack. We’re going to be fine.”
She never cries in front of me. Ma is strong like that. She doesn’t want me to see how hopeless things are, how in trouble we really are, but I know. At twelve, after watching my Pa walk out the door and never come back, at the pure anger I’d felt at that man leaving someone as sweet as Ma to fend for herself, I’ve learned a thing or two.
“Old Bessy will fetch a fair amount of coins,” I tell her, glancing toward the barn. “She’s still got a few years of steady milk in her and she’s healthy. We can always buy another cow in the Spring.”
“Exactly,” Ma nods, scrapping her greying hair back from her forehead. “I’m sorry to ask this of you, Jack—”
“It’s fine, Ma,” I say again, firmer this time. I may now be the man of the house, but I won’t have her stressing about it. I’m strong enough to take care of the both of us. “You go on inside and get warm. I’ll get Old Bessy ready and take her to the market before they close up shop and then I’ll be back as quick as a fiddle. Don’t you mind.”
Ma nods and tugs me into a hug that’s a little too tight, too desperate. I can feel the shaking in her fingers, can feel her fear like an aura around her. She doesn’t think we’re going to make it through the winter, but I’ll be damned if we’re going to freeze because of Pa. We’re going to survive it, and then when I’m big enough, I’m going to hunt down that asshole and beat him just as hard as he used to beat me. He’ll deserve it. He’ll deserve each and every hit.
I immediately set to work getting Old Bessy ready, tying the rope around her head like a halter and leading her outside. She lets me know her displeasure with a forlorn, “moo,” as I lead her into the chilly air. As if she knows she’s being sold, she meanders beside me, her head bumping against me as she asks for pets. She’s a good cow, the finest. I’ll be sad to see her go.
The market is a few hours walk into town. If I keep a good pace, I can get there a few hours before they close down for the day. Farmer Dan will probably offer a fair price for Old Bessy. He’s always looking for milking cows. The question is if I’ll be able to get enough gold to last through the winter.
The pathway we must walk is lined with the glittering trees of the Enchanted Forest. As a small child, I’d been enamored with the sparkle. Now, at twelve, they’ve lost their allure since it’s an everyday part of life. I haven’t yet grown much, but I can imagine the older I get, most things will lose their sparkle. People do. The sky does. Each and every thing eventually becomes mundane. That’s what it means to become an adult. You lose that sense of wonder.
Pa taught me that, too.
“I’m sure gonna miss you, ol' girl,” I tell Old Bessy. “You’ve been a great friend over the years, but now we need your help one last time,” I say as we walk. “Between you and me, with how bad Pa left the barn, you would have never been able to keep warm through the winter and it’s not like we can afford anymore hay. This is a mercy for you as much as it is for us.” I pat her on the head. “You’ll get to make friends with other cows and roam in pastures maybe. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Moo,” is her only answer, a deep solemn sound that makes me think she’s going to miss me, too.
My thin legs start to burn after an hour of walking, but I know I can’t stop to take a rest. It would add too much time, so I push through it. Old Bessy is starting to grow annoyed at our trajectory, at the fact I won’t let her stop to nibble on the late blooms along the path. I’m so focused on tugging her along, on my burning legs, that I don’t see the old, weathered man until he’s right in front of us.
“That’s a nice heifer you’ve got there.”
I nearly jump out of my skin at the sudden voice adding to the forest sounds. I jerk and look up into the eyes of a man so old, he looks like his bones should hardly hold him up. He stands in front of us, his glittering eyes taking in Old Bessy. Despite his shaking and gnarled hands, he reaches forward and pats her on the head, making the cow huff.
“Thanks,” I tell him for the compliment, and immediately go to move around him.
“Are you ta
I pause and glance over him carefully. He’s dressed in clothing that looks old but well taken care of. There are no holes or stains, just pristinely pressed cloth. Though he’s clearly as old as dirt, he seems strong enough to shoulder Old Bessy along, but if he purchased her, it wouldn’t be my business if he could handle her or not anymore. The sudden idea that I could sell Old Bessy without having to go all the way to the market hits me and I smile.
“Yes, I am,” I declare. I pat Old Bessy’s neck. “It’s time for Old Bessy to reach finer pastures. Are you interested, sir?”
“Am I interested?” the old man wheezes, his lips splitting into a grin that reveals missing teeth. “You bet I am. How much are you willing to sell her for?”
Ma hadn’t told me a price I should fetch. I assume I should get as much gold as possible, so I think of the only sensible number I know and double it. Negotiation is a proper tactic. I’d seen Pa negotiate himself out of trouble often enough.
“Thirty gold coins,” I say, puffing up my chest. “Old Bessy is the finest milker. She’s steady and produces a consistent amount of milk each and every day. I’d say a cow like that should fetch at least thirty.”
And thirty gold coins would be plenty for Ma and I to survive the winter.
The old man nods in understanding and reaches into his pocket much to my excitement. “Oh, of course! A cow like this? Thirty gold coins is a steal.” He shuffles around his pocket for a minute before his brow furrows. “Uh oh.”
“Uh oh, what?” I ask, my eyes on his hand in his pocket. Any minute now he’s going to show me those gold coins and I’ll be able to run home and tell Ma we’re saved.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any gold on me,” the old man says before pulling out his hand and holding his palm toward me. “I only have these beans.”
There, on his hand, sits twelve large, green beans. They have the same sheen as the trees around us but all I can think of is the uselessness of twelve beans. It’s not even enough for a single pot of soup.
My heart sinks.
“Sorry, mister,” I tell him. “I need gold.”
I go to move around him, to lead Old Bessy further down the path. If I move fast enough, I can make it to market just fine, but I’ve wasted time here with this old man. I don’t blame the man for trying but there are things that must be done, gold I must return home with.
“No, no, no. Wait!” The old man tries again and moves in front of us far faster than I expect a man of his age to move. “These aren’t just regular ol’ beans now. These here are magic beans.”
I’m sure my disbelief is written all over my face. I’ve long since stopped believing in fairytales and silly dreams. I stopped believing in those the day Pa didn’t come back. Life is hard and magic is bullshit. If there were magic in the world, we wouldn’t be struggling so much.
“Magic beans. Right.”
“I swear it,” the old man tries again, his hand reaching out to rest on Old Bessy. “These magic beans are special. You plant them in the ground outside your house and all your wildest dreams will come true.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe such nonsense,” I growl, trying to move around him. “If you’ll move, I need to make it to the market before they close.”
“Jack, I swear on my existence that these beans are worth more than all the gold in the world. You have my word. Just give me that cow you’ve got there, and the beans are yours.”
I pause and eye the man. “How did you know my name?”
He grins, those gaps drawing me in, highlighting the darkness there, and for some reason, it unnerves me. “You told me.”
“No, I didn’t. I would have remembered that,” I point out.
“Look, Jack. This conversation is fruitless. Your legs are tired. You don’t want to walk all the way to the market, do you? I swear on everything that these magic beans are exactly what you need.”
I scowl. “What I need is for my Ma and I to survive the winter. I don’t need twelve measly beans!”
“You’ll more than survive the winter with these,” he promises. “You will have so much gold, it’ll stain your eyes with the color, Jack. Don’t you have any faith anymore?”
“No,” I grunt. “It walked out the door with my Pa.” I eye the large beans in his hand again, the sheen they hold. It’s almost as if they sparkle, and if I focus hard enough, I can feel the charge in the air around them. Either it’s the chill in the wind or the beans actually have something. “Say I consider your deal? What’s to guarantee that you’re not pulling my leg and swindling me out of my cow?”
“Well. . . I suppose nothing,” the old man shrugs. “But you must feel the call of your destiny in them. Don’t you feel it?”
“I feel the chill,” I answer, staring at him. “How are they magic?”
“I can only tell you they’re the right kind of magic, tailored for just someone like you. After all, hunger makes all beasts equal.”
I tilt my head at those words, at the weight of them. Just for a second there, his voice had changed, had resonated in a way no human’s should be capable of. Old Bessy doesn’t seem to like it either. She shuffles closer to me, as if asking me for protection from this man.
“My Ma would kill me if all I brought back were beans. . .”
He nods. “But she will celebrate you once you plant them and your dreams come wildly true. Trust me.”
Almost every instinct in me is telling me to keep going, to get to the market and sell Old Bessy to Farmer Dan, but if I’m being honest, I know Farmer Dan will give me a maximum of five coins for Old Bessy. She’s a good cow, but she’s only got a few more years left in her. A small voice in my head starts prattling on about the beans, about what if they really are magic, about how five coins won’t do no good for the winter, but magic could help. Ma might be mad at first, but surely once she saw they were magic, she’d understand. My instincts war inside me, the time ticking past in a way I know I’m going to miss my chance at the market if I don’t get moving. Then I’ll come home completely empty handed.
“You’re sure they’re magic?” I ask, glancing up into the old man’s eyes. They sparkle with excitement and something else. Malice? Intrigue?
“As sure as I am that you’re Jack of Hollowford,” he grins, holding his hand closer. “Embrace your true destiny, Jack. It’s waiting for you.”
I glance at Old Bessy again, at the way she’s watching the old man warily. Animals have a knack for spotting evil men and she doesn’t seem too keen on this one, but she’s also not running away in fear. I’ve seen her run from a squirrel, so she’s frightful enough that she would run if faced with evil. She’s not doing so now.
“And these are going to make us rich, right? Ma and I will have all the gold we could want?”
“And more,” he nods. “There’s no limit to their reach.”
I take a deep breath. Possibly five gold coins at market, or magic beans that will help us forever? At twelve, it seems like a no brainer. Hesitantly, I hand over the rope to the old man and he gleefully dumps the magic beans in my waiting hand. All twelve of them. They make my fingers tingle when they touch my skin, so I immediately pocket them.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Jack of Hollowford,” the old man says with a grin before patting Old Bessy on the head again. Old Bessy looks forlornly back at me and moos again, so I pat her on the hide.
I nod, knowing I’m going to miss her. “I didn’t catch your name.”
