by B. T. Alive
Her smile was so friendly that I popped open my door and jumped right out.
Behind me, Mr. Charm hissed.
Because out of nowhere, a huge bloodhound had shown up.
The thing was enormous; its head in particular was somehow too big, its massive nose a couple feet from my thigh. It was sniffing hard, growling, and glaring right at my face with eyes that were just wrong. Uncanny.
I froze and clutched my car door, gripping it like a shield. My heart was thudding hard… the creature was so intense.
From the porch, the woman’s nice smile snapped into frustration. “Jake! Scat!” she called. “She’s one of us!”
The dog glowered, but it backed off and trotted away into the twilight.
Which would have been a great cue to relax, except that now the other porch person stood. And he looked like freaking Gandalf.
That familiar high hat? It was a wizard hat. He had a white beard that billowed all the way to his waist. And though the woman wore a light spring dress, perfectly normal, this old dude was rocking a freaking robe.
They both came toward me, creaking off the porch.
I don’t know about you, but for me, a big scary dog and a big tall bearded wizard dude are not my idea of a welcome committee.
“Hold up!” I called, still hiding behind my car door. “Stay back.”
But the woman’s hand flew to her heart, and she caught her breath. “Oh,” she murmured, talking not to me but to Mr. Wizard. “Oh, she looks just like her.”
“Like who?” I said. “Are you Grandma Meredith?”
“No, Summer,” she said. “But—”
“How the hell do you know me?” I said. “Who are you? Stay back, I mean it!”
They both stopped, and she winced, like she’d had a sudden cramp. But she smoothed her face back into a smile and then spread her hands, palms up.
“Summer, please, you’re safe here,” she said. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
How had I ever thought this woman looked friendly? Her dark eyes were earnest, boring into me like she could see behind my deepest lies.
“I’m fine!” I snapped. “I mean, yes, some random magician broke into my apartment and might have given me skin cancer—”
“Magician?” rumbled the wizard wannabe, speaking for the first time.
“You are hurt!” the woman exclaimed. “Please, we can help—”
She stepped toward me, but I shouted again and waved her back. The gesture yanked my sleeve up my arm, exposing a full view of my injured wrist.
I gasped.
The rash was spreading down my arm. At least two or three more inches of skin were blotching purplish-black. Toward my heart.
And I’d been blocking out the pain, but now that I looked at it… my skin felt pricked by an itchy swarm of little needles of ice.
Both the wizard and the woman were grave with concern.
“We need Cade,” the woman said.
The wizard frowned. “He won’t—”
“He’ll have to,” she snapped.
“Who’s Cade? Is he a doctor?” I said. Their obvious worry was freaking me out. “It wasn’t like that this morning. I need to get to a hospital.” I ducked back into my car and fumbled the key into the ignition.
“Summer! Wait!” the woman called. “Please! They won’t know what to do.”
I paused, my fingers trembling on the key.
The woman still stood at a distance in the twilight. Her palms were up, but her voice and her face were imploring.
“I’m so sorry, Summer, but there’s no time,” she said. “If you drive away, that could go to your heart.”
I didn’t want to trust her.
In that moment, this whole trip seemed like the stupidest, most reckless mistake I’d ever made.
But there was something about the way she said my name.
When you live alone, people don’t really say your name that much. Not like that.
Then, from the backseat, Mr. Charm crawled into my lap, purring hard. I rubbed his warm, furry back, and my breathing slowed a bit.
I pulled out the key.
The woman exhaled in a massive sigh.
“What exactly do you all suggest?” I said, quietly.
“You need rest,” she said.
“Rest?” I cried.
Beside her, Mr. Wizard spoke a single word in a low groan. “Sleep.”
A wave of exhaustion hit me like a smothering fog.
I fought it off, choosing not to analyze how the hell this could be happening. “What are you doing?” I snapped. I tried to jam the key back in, but my arm felt like lead and I could barely lift it. “This is better than the hospital? Some nut who likes to dress like Gandalf—”
The wizard raised his hands. “SLEEP!” he thundered.
I passed out.
Chapter 5
I woke up slowly, gradually feeling the sunshine on my face and the warmth on my chest from a quilt and Mr. Charm. I was looking up and out a window, into bright clouds and a sky of endless blue.
Then I freaked. WHERE WAS I?
I sat bolt upright, sending Mr. Charm flying. As always, he landed easily on his feet. Then, with an arch look my way, he scampered up a quaint old dresser and curled up in a basket bed that was pretty much adorable.
Actually, that went for the whole tiny, gorgeous room. It was like all the bed and breakfast selfies in the world had died and gone to heaven.
Seriously, the place was a Regency refuge. Hardwood floors, deep-silled windows with diamond-paned glass, pretty wallpaper and trim with tiny flowers… and one whole corner was a reading nook, with a built-in seat and shelves by a sunny window. You could curl up on that cushion and reach for any book you liked; the shelves were well-stocked with old hardcovers that looked scuffed and loved.
Usually, I’m more into people than books, but that nook called to me. The whole room was wooing me; this was edging perilously close to love at first sight. My apartment was packed with expensive decor in the finest taste, but this felt like home.
I fought the allure. “What happened, Charm?” I demanded. “Who are these people? Did you see anything?”
But the little luxuriating sybarite just curled up in his new boudoir. Great.
Then I remembered. My wrist! That rash!
I looked.
My wrist, my whole arm, was perfectly clean and smooth.
A memory flashed, confused and jumbled. Someone’s hands were hovering over my wrist, not quite touching, but so close that my skin tingled with his warmth.
His warmth? Yes. The hands were male, strong but also gentle, and his voice was soothing and low.
Then I got another flash, a glimpse of his face. His eyes were so… kind… and he was both scruffily handsome and also watching me with total selfless concern. Talk about a combo to make you ache.
Three sharp knocks destroyed my reverie.
“Summer?” said a crisp, mature woman on the far side of the door. Her voice was Southern, but aristocratic, and even in that single word, she was soft as sweet tea and hard as nails. “Summer, it’s Grandma Meredith.”
I jumped out of bed, heart pounding. I caught a glimpse of myself in a full-length mirror and winced. I was still in my stupid dress suit! I was glad that no one had messed with me, but they could at least have taken off the jacket. The wrinkles were hopeless; I looked like a used lunch bag, and I didn’t even want to think about how I smelled. Oh, and I had no shoes, of course, and standing there in my stocking feet made me feel about twelve.
I ran my fingers through my wild disaster of hair, hoping no passing birds would try to nest.
“Summer?” she repeated, with a harder edge.
“Come in!” I squeaked. I cleared my throat and tried to sound more like a grownup. “I’m ready!”
Maybe ready was optimistic.
The door opened, and in strode Grandma.
What struck me first were her eyes. Large, light, and striking, they were still and ca
lm, yet they seemed to take in everything at a glance.
She was short and old, but crackling with energy. At first, I pegged her in her early sixties, but on a second look, I couldn’t be sure. She might be in her seventies, or even eighties. It didn’t seem to matter.
Her outfit was both super practical and super flattering on her trim frame. Her short and styled hair was dyed a graceful light blonde, and her makeup job was amazing. But it was all accents; she wasn’t hiding her age like some injected celebrity. Age was irrelevant.
Not quite the comfy old darling I’d imagined. No milk or cookies in sight.
Behind her came a woman who looked younger than me. She had cascades of jet-black hair, and her cute bangs bounced over wide, dark, laughing eyes. Her heart-shaped face was bright with a perky smile; she had one of those faces that had to smile.
“Hi!” she chirped, and she actually waved.
Then, as she looked me over, her eyes went even wider with delight. She covered her mouth and basically squealed. “Oh my gosh! Look at you!” She raised her arms and rushed toward me for a tackle hug.
“Tina!” Grandma snapped.
The woman, apparently Tina, stopped short in surprise. She stood between me and Grandma, looking back and forth in confusion. Then her face cleared, like she was remembering something, and she sadly lowered her arms.
We all stared at each other.
Wait. Had this Grandma woman stopped that hug because she knew? About… my Touch?
No way. I was not going to go there. I really, really needed these people not to be on Team Magical Creep.
Of course, Grandma could have found out some other way than whatever magicky method Mr. Plant Killer had had at his disposal. But that option was almost worse. Wasn’t I safer if you needed magic to know my big secret?
Anyway, whether she knew or not, she clearly hadn’t lured me down here to trap me in an underground government lab or whatever so I could spend the rest of my life getting tested to death. (I hadn’t really worried about that scenario since high school, but let’s face it, I can wipe short-term memories. Imagine the potential uses that a government would see for “enhanced interrogation.” When I’d first realized what might happen if I ever got caught, I’d had insomnia for weeks. )
Whatever the real reason was that this woman had asked me down here, I was going to focus on what she’d promised. The truth about my mother’s family.
And, I hoped with a fervent ache, whatever I’d need to find them.
“So,” I said. “I got your letter.”
“I gathered that,” she said, with a twitch of a smile.
“Should I call you ‘Grandma’?”
“Certainly,” she said. “Everyone calls me ‘Grandma’.”
“Grandma!” cried Tina.
“See?”
“But you are my Grandma,” Tina said, in a plaintive tinkle.
“True enough, child,” Grandma said, with her first slight hint of affection.
To my shame, the corners of my eyes misted, threatening sudden hot tears. Wow… apparently I was feeling the lack of family support even harder than I’d realized. Was I that fragile?
I mean, it’s not like I was hundreds of miles from home, the day after a freak attack, with total strangers who might know my deepest secret, or anything.
Watching me, Tina winced.
Oh, please, I thought, and the anger helped me get back in control. Stop trying so hard to be nice.
Or maybe she really was that nice. Like it wasn’t already enough to be such a cute and gushy Southern belle that, even though she was wearing a regulation employee polo shirt and khakis, any male in the surrounding square mile would succumb to an instant crush.
I guess that sounds awful. But she was the one in the room with an actual grandmother. It’s just hard when people make it look effortless. She probably had a high metabolism, too.
“May I see your wrist?” Grandma said.
“Oh! Sure,” I said, like this was a completely normal routine when two people first meet. I pulled back the rumpled sleeve of my jacket, and both Grandma and Tina studied my smooth wrist with care.
“It’s perfect,” Tina breathed. “I knew he’d be amazing.”
“Indeed,” Grandma said, but she flicked Tina a sharp glance, and the younger woman fell silent.
Turning to me, Grandma said, “Thank you. And how are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” I said. “Mainly just… curious.”
“I’m sure,” Grandma said. “We have a great deal to discuss, Summer. But if you don’t mind, may I first ask you to tell us how you came by that injury? I want to ensure that you’ve received proper care. The details matter.”
I hesitated. It was surreal, this professional “bed and breakfast” lady asking me about a magical wound with the same calm seriousness as if she were taking a customer complaint about the service. I still resisted trusting her, but after all, my wrist was perfectly clear. If she wanted to know the details, I at least owed her that much.
As quickly as I could, I gave them a play-by-play of yesterday’s encounter. I liberally paraphrased what the man had said—I didn’t need to actually tell them about the Touch—but I did leave in his grandiose ramblings about my Great Work and Fate. Both Grandma and Tina listened with serious attention to everything I said, but at the bits about being “wanted at the highest levels,” they both looked especially grim.
I also didn’t see the need to get into the backstory of how I’d, you know, just quit my sales job.
Somehow, standing in this luxurious room in an Inn that was bound to be enchanting, I felt that the proprietor might be less than sympathetic with my choice. If Grandma Meredith had been in my shoes, I was pretty sure that she’d have beaten Nyle for that promotion… and she’d probably be running the company.
When I finished, there was a long pause.
And my stomach chose that moment to rumble like a dying hog.
“My goodness! Where are my manners?” Grandma said. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, at least! Come along down to the dining room and let us give you a proper welcome.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” I said, though now that I thought of it, my stomach was aching with hunger. “I can wait. I’d really rather—”
“You’re starving,” Tina said. “I can tell.”
“Really?” I said. Her certainty was slightly unnerving.
Grandma flicked Tina another strange little glance, and Tina said smoothly, “Sure! I see hungry people all day long. I work in the dining room. And sometimes the front desk. All over the Inn, really. Wherever I’m needed.”
“Speaking of which,” Grandma said. “We’d better go down and see how Hamish is holding up. We’re getting on to the breakfast rush, and we’ve got a huge party this morning, a whole family reunion.” She started walking toward the bedroom door.
“Wait!” I said. “You can’t just… I mean, what is this place? How did you heal my wrist? I passed out last night. From this creepy wannabe wizard—”
Tina snorted. Even her snorts were adorable.
“That’s just Uncle Barnaby,” she said. “He’s an—”
“Eccentric,” Grandma said.
“He does say the hat helps him focus,” Tina said.
“Tina,” Grandma snapped, with a sharp twang.
Tina tried to look repentant, but her eyes sparkled.
Grandma turned to me with a courteous smile. “I assure you, Ms. Sassafras,” she said, and her voice was honey-smooth, “you are due for a long and most enlightening conversation. But not on an empty stomach. Allow me to offer you a complimentary welcome to the finest dining in Wonder Springs.”
At the word “complimentary,” I relaxed a bit. As you may recall, my cards were maxed out, and my purse had about forty-seven cents.
“Thank you,” I said. “But—”
“Excellent,” Grandma said, and strode for the door.
Then I looked down and wailed. “Oh no
!”
In the doorway, Grandma turned back and frowned. “Yes?”
I quailed a bit. Clearly, Grandma Had Spoken, and she was used to getting her way.
So was I.
“My shoes,” I said, firmly. “I can’t walk around in my stockings.”
“Hmm,” Grandma said, and she eyed my feet with grudging agreement. “Tina can take you past the Lost and Found. We have an astonishing supply of abandoned sneakers.”
“Sneakers?” I said. “With this outfit?”
But she had already strode away.
“Is she always like that?” I asked Tina.
“Oh no,” Tina said. She winked. “Sometimes she gets bossy.”
“Tina, listen,” I said. “You’ve got to fill me in here.”
“I know, I know,” she said. “I can’t imagine what this must be like for you. But I know Grandma. She’ll want you properly fed, and us past this morning rush, so we can all give this conversation our full focus. You know?”
“Not really,” I said. “I’ve been trying to find my mom’s family for, like, my whole adult life. Can’t she just give me a name and address?”
“Oh, no,” Tina said, horrified. “That would be awful, Summer. It’s… it’s really complicated.”
“Great,” I said. “I get it. They’re all dead.”
Tina laughed. “You’re a real optimist,” she said.
“So they are dead?”
“No! I mean, I don’t know all the details…” Tina groaned in frustration. “Can we please just get some food in you? You are so hungry. Seriously, I can feel it.”
She fixed me with those dark eyes. Playful, but pleading.
I sighed. “Fine.”
“Hooray!” she said, completely free of irony, and practically glowing with happiness. “Oh, Summer. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Um,” I said. “Thanks.”
Did she expect me to reciprocate with a mutual gush? I’d known this woman for less than fifteen minutes.
Right then, Mr. Charm perked up, and he leapt lightly to the floor.