“I know enough, not that we can use it in here, but I know how to pick a lock. I was almost done when he showed up with you, so I played like I was still unconscious so we can make a break for it together.” She pulled a bobby pin hidden above the hair near her ear.
“You always carry one of those around?”
“Let’s just say my mother wasn’t the best influence. She’ll never be mother of the year, but she taught me a thing or two about sticky situations.” Margo hobbled to the door, and I followed.
“What happened to your foot?”
Margo sighed. “I twisted my ankle trying to escape from James.”
I held her arm to still her while putting my ear to the door. She eased down to the lock and started to work with the bobby pin.
“He’s not here. He left in a truck. I’m guessing he’s going after Georgia and the painting.”
“Not if we get to her fist,” I said as Margo and I both smiled at the sound of the tumblers falling into place. She eased the door open, and we stepped into a living room with a couch and a single chair. No phone in sight. A curse left my lips as we hurried out the door.
I grabbed Margo’s arm and put it around my shoulders and helped her hobble to the tree line and start the trek through the woods.
“Any idea where we are?”
“Not a clue,” I whispered, scanning our surroundings for anything that might jump out and attack us. “We should follow the road but stay in the tree line in case he comes back.”
Lights and sirens had us easing from our hiding place, waving our hands as King used a spotlight on his SUV to shine into the trees.
He’d barely had time to throw the vehicle in park when he was jumping out. “Tess, thank God.”
He pulled me into his arms before loosening his grip to stare down my body. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m not, but Margo is. I think she twisted her ankle or something.”
King scooped Margo into his arms and carried her to the back of the SUV as I climbed in the passenger side.
“How did you know where to find us?” I asked.
“We caught James when he returned to your house presumably to grab Georgia, but he refused to talk. Georgia did her crystal scrying thing and figured you were in the woods near the compound. We’ve got officers on all the roads in and out and around it searching for you two.” He picked up the radio and called in that he’d found us.
“Put me in a room with him for five minutes. I’ll make him talk,” Margo growled as she propped her foot on the seat and worked her sock down to take a look at the damage. Her right ankle was twice the size of the left. Thank God we hadn’t had to walk far before our rescue.
“Georgia has first dibs,” King said, glancing my way. “She’s at the police station waiting for me to return. I almost had to tie her to a chair to get her to stay.”
“And Friday?”
“Your Aunt Blythe and Franklin are with him. He’s bandaged, and the vet took a look at him. He’s one pissed-off cat, but he’ll be happy to know he took several chunks out of James’ face and arms.”
“We need to get James to talk. He wouldn’t have killed his sister even if he was in on the heist of the paintings.”
“I know.” King sighed. “First, let’s get you back and checked out. Then I’ll see what I can do about getting you a face-to-face with him. Maybe once he sees that we found you and we can charge him with kidnapping, he’ll be more inclined to talk.”
Chapter 16
King parked outside the precinct’s door, and I helped Margo out of the SUV. We limped into the station to find Noah rubbing Georgia’s back. She had her head down. Her gaze shot up as she jumped from her seat and hurried across the room and pulled us both into a hug.
“Ease up,” Margo said, hopping on her foot.
“He hurt you?” Georgia asked, her eyes narrowed to slits.
“I did this to myself, running from him. I tripped, and it’s how he caught me.”
Noah pulled me into his arms. “I saw the blood and the amulet and knew he had you. You scared me.”
“Sorry,” I offered. “I tried to run from him. He had me trapped and found my hiding place. I made a break for it, but he knocked me out.”
A thundercloud crossed Noah’s face, and his mouth tightened. I knew that look. The one that said he was about to kick someone’s butt. I rested my hand over his heart. “I’m fine, really.”
“Wait here while I go talk to the chief about letting you ask James about his motives,” King said in passing before disappearing behind a closed door. It seemed like forever before he stepped out and grinned.
I knew that grin. It said we’d get our chance with the kidnapper. King led me and my sisters into a conference room and gave us each a bottle of water. We were told to wait. He returned moments later with James in cuffs. The look on his face was…relief?
“Thank God,” James said, heading for us, but King yanked him back and stuck him in a chair on the opposite side of the table.
“Why are you happy to see us?” Margo asked as Georgia pressed her hands on the table like she was about to jump it to get her fingers around his throat.
I stilled her and shook my head.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to save you.”
“If that were true, why the theatrics? Why not just knock on the damn door like a normal person and tell us what we were up against.” Georgia asked.
“Because he’s lying.” Margo glared. “You can’t talk your way out of this. It’s called kidnapping.”
“Let’s hear him out.” I said folding my hands on the table. “What were you saving us from?” I asked as he stared at us in disbelief.
“Not what, but who…I was saving you from my mother,” he answered. “You’ve got to believe me. She wants all three of you dead, and she has the hex. All she needs is the symbol on that painting. Tell me she doesn’t have it yet.”
“Why should we believe you?” Georgia asked.
“You three are the last of the Hexford line,” he said, as if we should understand what that means.
He rested his hands on the table. The handcuffs landed with a clank. “For your grimoire. She believes there’s a spell inside that unlocks your great-grandmother’s room at the coven. It’s been impenetrable since the day she died. I don’t know what my mother wants so badly inside that she’s willing to kill for, but when the last Hexford dies, the inheritance, everything that Mildred has, including the book and the deed to the coven, goes to my mom. It was part of the blood pact that they made years ago.”
“What is up with you people and your blood pacts?” I asked, rising from my seat. “First our dad with our moms and now this?”
“We’re special,” Margo announced. “My mother told me the story about Dad and our moms. How we’d one day have to return and perform a ritual.”
“What ritual?” Georgia growled.
“The binding ritual that keeps Mrs. Gold’s witchcraft bound. She’s helpless without it.”
“Why would our ancestors want to do that to her?” I asked, feeling a little bad for the woman, a fleeting feeling that would pass any second.
“Our grandmother found out that she was using black magic and using the blood of coven members as offerings to conjure something evil. It’s up to us, on the summer solstice every year, to repeat the spell,” Margo explained.
“You lied to us.” My eyes narrowed on my sister. “You said you didn’t even believe witches existed.”
“I didn’t know anything about you or Georgia. I needed to figure out who you were before I laid my cards on the table, but time has run out. The solstice is tomorrow.”
“My mother isn’t helpless,” he announced, looking at King. “Have you ever noticed how many people just suddenly leave the coven and are never heard from again? She’s killed numerous victims for their witchcraft and I know where she’s hiding the bones.”
“You’re claiming your mother is a murderer.” King said.
“I can prove it. I can show you the pit where she dumps the bones. You’ve got to believe me. She’s a heartless monster. My sister was her latest victim. Mom found out that Katrina was looking for the painting and the hex spell to use on Mom, so she killed Katrina.”
“You witnessed this?”
He shook his head. “No, but she all but told me it was her. When a witch dies….”
“Her powers go to an ancestor or another witch that’s around at that time,” I announced.
“Not to mention Katrina was working against her. You three hadn’t even arrived in town yet. She was the only one around.”
“She doesn’t have the glowing blue eyes that all witches get when they inherit power,” I countered.
“She’s wearing contacts to cover her crime. It was her. I’m sure of it.”
“And how do Nadia and Myra fit into this scheme?”
“Myra and Nadia don’t have anything to do with this. I was supposed to marry Nadia. She’s just a victim in a century old promise,” he said, meeting our gaze.
“He’s telling the truth,” Georgia said, standing from her seat.
“How do you know?” King asked.
Georgia held up the truth spray and grinned. “Now we just have to figure out what the heck we’re going to do about it.”
Chapter 17
The rays of sunlight streamed through breaks in the leaves from the trees overhead as if pointing directly at our target.
The presence of six police cars and King’s SUV with lights flashing in the distance caused curious onlookers among the yoga enthusiasts in the pavilion. One by one they rose out of their once peaceful state to stare at the officers getting out of the cars.
King turned in his seat to regard us all. “Are you three ready?”
“Ready as we’ll ever be,” I answered.
“Let’s go.” He got out of the SUV, and we followed. Meeting my sisters, I steered them toward the mausoleum room.
We entered without permission. I think the others were as wide-eyed and curious as I’d been the first time I’d seen the place. They slowly walked around the room. Georgia stopped at the picture of her mother and ran her hand down her cheek while I stood at the podium in the middle of the room, the knife already in my hand.
“Are you guys ready?” I repeated King’s words, drawing my sisters’ attention back to why it was that we’d come.
They met me at the podium and watched as I ran the blade down my hand, creating a crimson path and cringing at the pain as the air met the wound. I handed the knife to Georgia, who did the same, flexing her palm, seemingly in awe of the bloody wound.
Margo was next, quick to follow. Holding our hands above the bowl, we mixed the blood droplets running through our veins.
“You’re too late,” Hilda said from the doorway.
Ignoring her, we continued and started repeating those words that Margo had been trained to remember. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, ban the evil and the lust….”
Hilda raised her hand to strike back as a scream bubbled from her lips. I created the bubbled barrier around us. Our voices only we could hear. Hilda ran straight for us, her nails like claws, ready to strike, only to bounce off our protective barrier.
I nodded at the others, and we repeated the words again. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, ban the evil and the lust. Let our light and will bind the powers of Hilda Gold so that no evil will ever unfold.”
Again we repeated the words, louder each time, as Hilda whispered spells and attacked with everything she had. The bubble started to disperse, our shield fading as Hilda again lifted her hands to attack.
Georgia’s eyes rolled back as her legs started to give out. I caught her before she fell. Damien Gold’s face shimmered into view, catching Hilda off guard.
Hilda’s power fizzled in that momentary surprise.
“Crap, I forgot. We have to seal it with contact,” Margo said, moving behind us. She touched both of our arms, and a blinding light burst from our bodies, dropping all of us to our knees.
The light swirled in the air, creating wind, and Hilda raised her arms to try and stop it as it settled down, cocooning her body. All her fight and desperation turned to despair as she collapsed on the ground. Her face contorted before our eyes, and the once vibrant woman looked older now, her wrinkles deeper, and her once gray hair holding streaks of white.
King appeared behind her with handcuffs dangling from his fingers.
“Hilda Gold, you’re under arrest.”
Her gaze turned pleading as King lifted her off the ground. “You can’t prove anything.”
“We found the paintings you stole from the shop and the pit of bones, thanks to James drawing us a map. You’re going away for a long time,” he said, slapping the metal bracelets on Hilda’s wrist.
“This isn’t over,” she growled in our direction.
“It kind of is,” I taunted as King was hauling her away.
Chapter 18
One week later we stood in the backyard around a barrel of burning debris. Livvy was holding her doll in one hand and mine in the other. Margo was staring down at her painting.
“Looks like you guys are stuck with me. I’m staying until I figure out who killed my mom,” Georgia announced.
I wouldn’t have expected any less from Georgia, even if she had to deal with Damien’s lingering soul and the antique shop. It was a small price to pay for the closure that tore at her very existence.
“Did you ever figure out how it was Damien died?” I asked out of curiosity.
Her lips twitched. “Let’s just say, in his next life he’ll never listen to the radio while bathing again.”
“That’s disappointing. I’d expected something more, like a jilted lover, or a heist gone wrong where he falls to his death.”
Georgia chuckled. Margo stared lost in thought. Worry creased her brow.
“There will be others that come. Hilda was only one pawn in a network that toys with black magic,” Margo said, tossing the painting into the fire.
Black smoke rose in a plume as fire burned the once beautiful canvas into a charred mess, eating at the tiny fibers that held it together.
My sisters and I were like those tiny threads. Only as strong as the bonds we make and weaker when a single fabric was frayed.
“What about you, Margo?” I asked, hoping that I’d get some time to learn more about her and what she knew of our heritage.
“Mildred wasn’t the woman you think she was. My mother warned me about her. She was a pro at manipulation.”
“What was in your inheritance?” I asked.
“I have to stay and teach you both everything about being a Hexford witch. She knew the only way to get to me was through my heartstrings. Hell, I wouldn’t even put it past her to have used Hilda as a pawn to give us each a taste of what we could do together.” Margo paused. “She also ordained that I have a child to carry on the Hexford line. She claims my soul mate is coming here. Her motives weren’t pure.”
I never thought they had been. I turned my gaze to Friday, who was lying on the ground with his leg in a splint. “Look at it this way. You stay and teach us and we can undo all the damage and manipulation that she did, but only if we work together, starting with Friday.”
They both turned to follow my gaze, and smiles split their lips. “Margo, tell me you have a spell for that.”
“Oh, I do.”
“It’s going to make her mad,” Livvy said, dropping my hand.
“Don’t you want Friday to be happy and human?” I asked, staring down at her.
“I’m going to miss him.” A tear formed in Livvy’s eyes. “He was one of my only friends.”
“He saved my life, Livvy. He deserves a chance to be happy and free, and besides, Friday isn’t your only friend. You have us and Franklin. We’re your friends.”
Livvy’s tear slipped free, and she swiped at it before going to sit next to Friday. She stroked his fur, making him purr. She look
ed up at us with big watery eyes. “Okay.”
“Great.” Margo beamed. “Let me go get the book.”
“Wait, you have the grimoire?” Georgia asked.
“What kind of teacher would I be without tools?” Margo chuckled and ran into the house.
Thirty minutes later we stood around Friday with our hands clasped, repeating a spell to undo his restraints. When his body shimmered to that of a man, he couldn’t keep the form and went right back to a cat.
“Maybe we’re not saying it right,” I offered as an excuse.
“Maybe we forgot something like a sacrifice,” Georgia added.
“You did,” Livvy said, tossing her doll into the fire before breaking our circle and clutching our hands with hers. “You need all the Hexford magic to agree. He saved your life like you saved mine.” Livvy smiled up at me.
“You’re so smart.” I leaned down and kissed her temple and squeezed her hand. Again we repeated the words, and this time the wind whipped around our hair, stirring leaves and debris. The fire in the barrel grew in height, as right before our eyes, Friday shifted into his puma before continuing and settling into the form of a naked man.
I broke the hold and covered Livvy’s eyes, shielding her from Friday’s nude body.
“I should get him some clothes,” Margo said, disappearing into the house.
Friday pushed to stand, stretching his arms above his head. He was a beautiful man. A headful of dark hair contrasted with his bright green eyes and olive skin. He stared at us.
“You did it,” he said, running his hands down his body and stopping at the wound on his leg.
“You saved me,” I whispered, trying as I might to keep my eyes at head level.
Margo returned with a shirt and jogging pants that belonged to Noah, who was watching from the kitchen window. A blush crossed Margo’s face as she handed him the clothes. “What’s your real name?”
His brows dipped as if he didn’t remember. His mouth opened and closed.
“I’m sure it will all come back to you,” I offered. “You’re more than welcome to stay here until you get it all figured out.”
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