His words caused Lily’s heart to skip a beat as it leapt in excitement, taking her completely by surprise. She was thankful Sebastian wasn’t around to see her blush, thinking about the many, many things they needed to talk about. “Yeah…see you tomorrow.”
After putting the photograph away in a drawer—nestled between a pair of socks in Sebastian’s honor—she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. This, she thought, was going to be interesting.
Work that Wednesday was excruciating as she waited for the call from Sebastian. Richard had promised twenty-four hours, but she kept having this horrible feeling that something would go wrong and she would get a call from Richard instead of Sebastian, saying he was sorry but things hadn’t worked out. Every little sound made her jump and glance at her phone, until Penny, her assistant, eventually asked if she were alright.
Close to five, the call finally came. Lily hurriedly checked that everything was settled for the day, then rushed out of the library and jumped into her car. She’d made Sir Kipling stay home that day, saying she didn’t want him anywhere near a prison, just in case. There would be electric fences and guard dogs, and she had no desire to tempt fate where her thinks-he’s-got-nine-lives cat was concerned.
She drove with a lead foot, honking at traffic and straining every seam of her poor Honda Civic to its limit as she headed southwest toward the Atlanta federal prison. Her nerves were all a-jangle and her emotions a mess, but at least she would be getting Sebastian back where she could fuss at him face to face instead of through an enchanted photograph. Not that she would be scolding him, not with Tina’s words still fresh in her mind. Well, she thought, maybe a little. After all, he was a reckless, obstreperous excuse for the most amazing man in the world.
Wait…where had that come from? She decided to just stop thinking entirely, since her brain was obviously as strung out as a whole clutter of cats on catnip.
When she pulled into the prison parking lot, she saw him standing on one end—as far away from the prison entrance as possible—body language closed and wary as he leaned against a telephone pole, arms crossed. When he spotted her car he straightened, but she couldn’t see his expression and still park safely, so she focused on her driving.
By the time she opened her car door, he was only a few steps away. Since she’d conveniently turned her brain off, there was nothing to stop her jumping out of the seat and throwing herself on him. Wrapping her arms around his lean, firm chest, she buried her face in his neck, breathing in his musky scent. She had no plan, no goal, no thoughts at all. She just missed him and wanted to be near him.
He stumbled slightly as she hit, obviously not anticipating being jumped. But he quickly found his balance and froze where he was, as though afraid any movement would send them crashing to the ground.
It took a few long seconds for him to react, and when he did his voice sounded as confused as it was startled. “Uhhhh…Lily?”
“Hush. Just hush,” she said, voice muffled by the fact that her face was pressed against his collar.
He did, carefully raising his arms to rest them lightly around her in a tentative embrace. Maybe he thought if he did any more, she would fuss at him for that, too.
The thought kicked her brain back into motion and she could almost hear the reboot music as she realized what she was doing. She let go as quickly as if he were a scalding hot potato she’d been foolish enough to pick up, stepping back to look down at her feet and blush furiously.
“I…I missed you,” she forced herself to say in way of explanation, though really all she wanted to do was melt into a puddle of embarrassment and ooze away to hide under the bushes. This whole “dealing” thing was turning out to be the epitome of “easier said than done.”
“I, uh, couldn’t tell.”
Though she still could not bring herself to look at him, the hint of amusement in his voice indicated he, at least, hadn’t been completely scandalized by her brashness—not that he was ever scandalized by anything. While she assumed Tina’s description of him as “stupid in love” was an exaggeration, a part of her hoped it wasn’t completely off the mark.
She kept her eyes fixed on the ground as she heard him step forward. Then she felt his warm fingers under her chin, a silent request to look up. She did, slowly, reluctantly, afraid of what she would see—whether Tina was wrong or right. Both seemed equally terrifying.
When she finally met his gaze, she felt something inside her melt. She saw some uncertainty, and a guarded shadow that sent shivers down her spine. But overall, they were full of relieved, eager warmth.
“I missed you too, Lil,” he said, voice husky.
Gently, giving her ample time to stiffen and withdraw if she chose, he gathered her into a more deliberate but no less sincere embrace, pressing his cheek against the side of her head so that she could feel his breath tickle her neck. She did not withdraw, though she felt as stiff and clumsy as a log. Now that her brain was working again, it foiled her attempts to relax, clamoring about all sorts of inanity while distracting her from enjoying what she now realized she’d been longing for all day. Maybe all her life.
Her mind was so consumed by trying to figure out what to say next that she barely noticed when he let her go.
“So. Can we go now?”
His voice made her jump and she realized in relief that he wasn’t launching into an interrogation of her feelings, nor demanding an explanation of her strange behavior.
“Yes,” she said, almost laughing with relief. “Yes, let’s.”
4
All the King's Men
After retrieving Sebastian’s impounded car, they headed to Madam Barrington’s house for a “council of war,” as Sebastian put it. When his great-aunt opened the door and saw him on her front porch, her reaction was about what Lily had expected. Her eyes widened in shock, cycling through relief, confusion, suspicion, and finally settling on resignation.
“Well. As glad as I am to see you in good health, nephew, I sincerely hope the next words out of your mouth do not include ‘escape,’ ‘run away,’ or, heaven forbid, ‘I need somewhere to hide.’” The older woman glanced back and forth between them, eyebrow raised.
Lily gulped down a nervous giggle. Soon enough those disapproving eyes would be focused on her and, for once, she would be getting the tongue-lashing, not her obstreperous friend.
“I promise, Ms. B., Sebastian’s release was entirely legal. Perhaps it would be better if I explain things inside?” Lily said, clearing her throat.
Madam Barrington sighed. “Of course, do come in. I’ll put the kettle on.”
As she stepped aside to let them in, Sir Kipling—whom Lily had stopped by her house to pick up—bounded ahead down the hall, making a beeline for the kitchen. When they arrived themselves, they found him sitting beside an empty bowl by the pantry door, looking disappointed. Madam Barrington had taken to keeping it around ever since the precocious feline had started accompanying his mistress to her mentor’s house. But since Madam Barrington hadn’t been expecting them today, it was not filled with its usual milk and cream.
Sir Kipling gave Madam Barrington a piteous look, coming forward to rub pleadingly on her ankles and mew. He was somewhat stymied by her floor-length skirt, but he soldiered on, leaning in until he found firm leg to rub against amid the gathers of fabric.
With a small, fond twitch of the lips, Madam Barrington headed for the refrigerator, taking out the milk and giving her supplicant a generous portion.
Lily sighed. “Ms. B., you’re spoiling him. If you keep giving him that he’ll expect to get it at home, too.”
“Nonsense. A little milk every now and then does a pussycat good. Keeps their fur silky and their teeth strong.”
Sir Kipling paused in his not-so-dainty consumption of the creamy treat, milk dripping from his whiskered chin as he gave her a smug look. “See, I told you,” he said, and returned to the all-important task of cleaning his bowl.
Not dignify
ing her cat’s statement with a reply, Lily simply rolled her eyes and went to help Madam Barrington prepare the tea. They worked in silence, Madam Barrington exuding calm stateliness, while Lily did her best to imitate her. The knot in the pit of her stomach made it rather difficult. Sebastian ignored them both, crouching down by the bowl of milk to get reacquainted with Sir Kipling. Her cat liked that just fine, arching his back and sticking his butt in the air for scratches while he kept his face firmly planted in the bowl. She watched them out of the corner of her eye, wondering what sort of mischief they would get up to if only they could talk to each other. She shuddered. The world wouldn’t know what hit it.
When all was prepared—a simple but strong Assam blend accompanied by cheese scones and sliced sausage on rye bread—they retired to the parlor. As was Madam Barrington’s habit, they poured and sipped their tea, letting the mood settle in contemplative silence before starting in on whatever would be said. Though Lily noticed Sebastian hesitated when reaching for a scone, he eventually followed through and brought it to his lips, face scrunched up in trepidation as he took the first bite. When nothing happened, he gave a suppressed sigh of relief and dug in with gusto, putting far too much sugar in his tea, as per usual, and drinking several cups to their one.
Lily smiled, remembering the first time she’d come here with him, back when they were trying to unmake Annabelle Witherspoon’s curse on the Jackson Mansion. He’d hinted then that his aunt had once fed him hexed food, which was why he’d studiously declined the delectable treats at her house ever since. Prison food must have taken a greater toll on him than she’d thought if he was only now desperate enough to brave the scones.
After a suitable amount of time had passed, during which Lily tried not to fidget or look guilty, Madam Barrington finally spoke.
“Now, Lily, pray tell me how Sebastian has come back to us a free man while the lawyer I hired for him is still working on a defense?”
“Yeah, why did they let me go?” Sebastian chimed in, eyeing Lily with such keen suspicion that he looked distinctly Madam Barrington-like. Only the gravity of the situation kept Lily from laughing.
“Well…I made a deal with the FBI,” she hedged, wondering if she could gloss over the part where she told Richard about wizards.
Sebastian gave her the eyebrow and Madam Barrington said, “I see,” in that tone of voice that meant she most certainly did not see, and Lily had better explain herself on the double or risk the dreaded Barrington ire.
She explained. They were not pleased.
“Seriously, Lil?” Sebastian was incredulous, and even, it seemed, angry. “How could you do that? You know we can’t trust the FBI. In fact, they are the last people on this planet we should be trusting. What are we going to do? For all I know they plan to clap me back in irons as soon as they get what they want! Did you get any promises in writing? Anything signed by a judge? Was there a lawyer present while you had this little tête-a-tête with your boyfriend Richie?”
“Calm down, nephew,” Madam Barrington snapped, her own stress showing in the tightness of her voice. “I believe we have much larger things to worry about than mere legalities. If this agent decides to take advantage of this knowledge it could prove disastrous for all wizardkind. I am severely disappointed in you, Lily. What you did was not only foolish but irresponsible.”
Lily felt her face grow hot with shame at her mentor’s reprimand, not to mention Sebastian’s biting jab. Yet she couldn’t let it get to her. They needed to be unified, now more than ever. Taking a deep breath, she shoved the hurt aside, forbade herself from tearing up, and spoke in a calm voice. “Look, both of you. I did the best I could given the circumstances. I took a calculated risk and I’m ready to deal with the consequences. What’s done is done and we have better things to do than sit here and discuss all the possible disasters that could occur.” Stop pretending, start dealing she thought to herself over and over. It was a stupid mantra, but it gave her courage. “Sebastian,” she said, turning to him, “Richard is not my boyfriend. I told him I never wanted to see him again after I caught him planting bugs in my house.”
At the start of her words, Sebastian’s face split into a badly concealed grin until his brain caught up with the second part of her sentence. “Oh, great, just great!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air before getting up to pace around the room, gesticulating as he spoke. “We’re trusting a guy already proven untrustworthy who you then summarily insulted. We are totally screwed.”
“Despite what you think, Richard was only doing his job and trying to protect me. The same thing you were doing, I might point out, when you so conveniently got yourself arrested and accused of murder, forcing me to take desperate measures. Our and the FBI’s goals are the same: to stop John Faust. More than anything, I believe Richard is committed to justice, and he is an honorable man. I trust him with our secret, and he is absolutely right that no one would believe him, anyway. This is the only way, and you know it,” she said, glaring at both Sebastian and Madam Barrington, whose lips were pressed together in a line so thin they virtually disappeared. “We need someone in the government who can cover for us. They’ve already been investigating my father for years, and they aren’t going to drop it. He’s involved in a lot more than we realized and we aren’t going to be able to clean it up ourselves.”
Sebastian crossed his arms, looking stubborn, and Madam Barrington’s steely expression had not softened one iota.
“Ethel,” Lily said softly, turning to face her mentor. “Did you know my father has been kidnapping children?”
The woman's face slackened in disbelief. “What is this nonsense? Where did you hear this?”
“It’s complicated and there’s no time to explain it all now. I think he’s been collecting wizard children to, I don’t know, brainwash them or something. He’s building an army. Even if we were able to neutralize him by ourselves, what about all those kids? We need to work with the FBI on this one. I don’t know what’s going to happen or how everything will work out, but my father has done too much harm for us to do this the ‘wizard way.’ He’s hurt too many people. This isn’t the Middle Ages, when we could make a few people disappear and everything would be fine. Unless you know about some top-secret “wipe” team we can call that goes around cleaning up after wizards gone bad, the FBI is our best bet.”
Madam Barrington did not look pleased, but her expression was more resigned than angry. “Whether or not they are, what’s done is done, and we must make the best of it. I sincerely hope, Lily, that your trust in Agent Grant is not misplaced.”
“Me, too,” Lily said, her insides twisting nervously.
“Just tell me you didn’t promise them first dibs or anything?” Sebastian said pleadingly, collapsing back into his chair and rubbing his eyes.
“Give me a little bit of credit,” she said, defensive. “After all, everything I know about doing risky, insane things I learned from you. I told Richard we’d deal with my father and clean up anything overtly ‘magical’ before we called in the cavalry. The only thing that has changed is that now you’re out of jail and we have a cleanup crew. You’re welcome.”
There was a long silence. Lily stared at the floor, mad at both of them and completely out of words. She’d done enough dealing for a lifetime as far as she was concerned.
“Well, you all are as big a bunch of ninnies as I’ve ever seen. At this rate, John Faust will rule the world before you get your heads out of your respective backsides,” Sir Kipling commented from the doorway. At his meow, all eyes locked on him. He sat motionless except for the very tip of his tail, which twitched rhythmically.
“What did he say?” Sebastian asked, breaking the silence.
Lily let out her breath in a great whoosh, then laughed, relaxing as she realized that Sir Kipling was right. After all, the only thing worse than fighting with allies was fighting without them. “He said we’re being silly for bickering when Allen is in danger, and I agree. Like Madam Barri
ngton said, what’s done is done, and we have work to do. I suggest we get to it.”
They all looked at each other, and nodded.
Meowing, Sir Kipling stood up. “Well that’s all fine and dandy, but is it going to take long? Because I’m out of milk.”
It took a day to set things up. The first task was to test Grimmold and see if Sebastian’s fears were correct. Unfortunately, they were. Grimmold took one whiff of John Faust’s scent and shut down. He wouldn’t track it, not for any amount of specially aged moldy pizza. When Sebastian demanded to know why, all he would say was “baaaaad,” before scampering off into the underbrush.
Once that avenue of attack was eliminated, they turned to what Lily had found in John Faust’s workroom. On Madam Barrington’s recommendation, it was Lily who called up her grandfather. They hoped he would be more agreeable to their request if it came from her.
Once everything was arranged, there was nothing to do but wait for night to fall. Lily tried not to focus on her nerves. It was hard, seeing as how her large and small intestines seemed to be having a who-can-tie-themselves-in-the-most-knots contest, while her stomach felt like it was practicing its bungee-jumping skills. She decided to forgo dinner, instead drinking copious amounts of chamomile with lavender tea. Though not much of an herbal tea drinker, there were always those rare times when she needed a calming drink without caffeine in the mix to make things worse.
When it was finally time to go, she was almost relieved. Better to get it over with. Maybe once her father was safely behind bars she could go back to her quiet life of books, tea, and magic. Well…perhaps not too quiet. Sebastian got bored when things were quiet, and she had to admit life was more interesting with him around.
She drove north through the night, Madam Barrington in the passenger seat and Sebastian in the back with Sir Kipling. Aside from discussing a few contingency plans, none of them said a word, each lost in their own thoughts. Sir Kipling slept, as he was wont to do, unconcerned with the coming confrontation.
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Allies Page 24