“Knock it off.” Landon gave her a dirty look. “You’re not fooling anybody with that act.”
“Definitely not,” Chief Terry agreed as he waved his hand in front of his face. “Good grief. That place will have to be fumigated.”
Mrs. Little ran in a circle in the middle of the street to avoid the skunk chasing her. “Go away, you foul beast!” She tried to stomp on the skunk and missed.
“Those skunks aren’t real, are they?” I asked.
“I have nothing to do with the skunks,” Aunt Tillie insisted. “If I did, though, I would say that they will likely disappear in an hour or so. I have no actual knowledge of this, but if I had cast a spell like this, I would’ve put a time limit on it.”
I rubbed my forehead and let out a sigh. “I could hear them this time.”
Landon snapped his head back to me. He’d been enjoying the sight of Mrs. Little and Willa trying to hide from the skunks. His smile dissipated in an instant. “They talked to you?”
“They talked to each other. I couldn’t make out what they were saying because they all talked at once, but when they realized what Aunt Tillie was going to do with the manhole cover one of them yelled for her to stop. Then, right before they disappeared, I heard someone say it wasn’t over.”
“Maybe it wasn’t the shades,” Thistle suggested.
I wrinkled my nose. “Who else would it be?”
“Maybe it was her.” Thistle pointed to the building next to Hypnotic. The upstairs level had been a law office at one time but was now empty. I’d heard someone had plans to convert it into a day spa.
At first I thought the window Thistle pointed to was empty, but when I shaded my eyes there was indeed a figure standing in the window watching the scene on the street ... and it was a familiar one.
“Amelia,” I said, more in resignation than disbelief.
“Where?” Landon looked toward the window. He was grim when he saw the girl. “Maybe we should go up there and question her.”
I grabbed his wrist before he could take off. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
He waited for me to expand. When I didn’t, he swore under his breath. “I’m going to need more than that, Bay.”
“She’s clearly here for a reason.” I rubbed my palms over my knees, frowning at the pain. I snatched my hand back to stare at the palm and found an ugly scrape from when I’d hit the ground. “Ow.”
“Let me see.” Landon gently caught my wrist and stared at my palm. “That is ugly.” He kissed the mark and then flicked his eyes to Chief Terry. “I need your first aid kit to clean this out.”
“Sure.” Chief Terry said. “Get rid of the ice on my building and I’ll get your first aid kit.”
“Oh, will you stop being such a kvetch?” Aunt Tillie demanded, glancing over her shoulder when someone let loose a shrill scream. She grinned at the sight of Aunt Willa at the corner of the building, trapped by two skunks and shielding her face. “That’s just terrible,” she intoned, the smile never leaving her face. “An absolute travesty.”
It would’ve been funny if we didn’t have bigger things to worry about. “My hand is fine. I can clean it at Hypnotic.” I grunted as I tried to stand. “Okay, somebody help me up. I feel like an old woman. My joints ache a bit.”
“Did you hear that?” Thistle challenged Aunt Tillie. “She feels like you. Help her up.”
“Keep it up, mouth,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “There’s a spot open on my list.”
“You have bigger skunks to skin,” Thistle shot back.
“Like what?”
“Um ... Clove.”
“Oh, right.” Aunt Tillie looked at me. “It feels as if that should be your problem,” she said. “I handled the shades.”
“I think we handled the shades together,” I corrected.
“The only thing you did was interrupt my first spell. I was going to drown those bitches, but you turned the water to ice.”
Chief Terry’s eyes were dark when they locked with mine. “You did this?”
“She was going to flood your building. The ice is better.”
“How?”
“A flood would’ve forced you to tear that building down to the studs to get it operational again. As it stands, all you have to do is wait for the ice to melt.”
“I don’t like either option.” Chief Terry glanced back at the window Amelia had been standing in moments before. “She’s gone.”
“She probably didn’t get what she wanted,” Landon noted as he moved behind me and hooked his hands under my arms to help me stand.
“We don’t know that she has anything to do with the shades,” I argued.
Landon was incredulous. “Are you kidding me? What more proof do you need?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.” That was the truth. “She shouldn’t be able to control shades, not with magic stolen from Hollow Creek.”
“That’s your magic,” Landon said. “You can control ghosts. She’s an evil kid. No, don’t bother arguing.” He held up his hand to stop me from saying something. “I don’t think we can get around the fact that she’s evil. This is twice now, Bay. It’s not some youthful indiscretion.”
“He’s right, Bay.” Chief Terry said. “This is deliberate. Paisley Gilmore is dead.”
“But ... why?” I asked. “Why kill her friend? I can see her wanting revenge on us. If the memory spell didn’t last and what we did came rushing back to her, I understand she’d want to make us pay. But Paisley was on her side.”
“Maybe Paisley didn’t want to go another round with you,” Landon suggested. “Maybe Paisley wanted to step back and do the right thing. You’ve seen those girls. Sophie and Emma are more malleable. They do as they’re ordered.
“During the first case, they followed Paisley because Amelia was hidden away,” he continued. “Now, with Amelia back, they seem to be following her. Maybe there was room for only one leader.”
What he said made sense, but I was loath to admit it. “That doesn’t explain her working with the shades. She doesn’t have the magic to harness them.”
“I think remnants of your magic are floating around Hollow Creek,” Landon said. “It’s possible she can control the shades with your magic because she has a dark soul, just like the shades do. Even if she can’t, she’s definitely involved.”
There was no other explanation for what had happened.
He massaged my shoulders. “The shades are getting more aggressive and violent. We can’t wage war against them on Main Street. Even if the tourists think it’s a game.”
I rolled my neck and blew out a sigh. “So we have to figure out who’s controlling who.”
“I’m not following you,” Chief Terry said. “Who else would be controlling the situation?”
“There are two possibilities. Either Amelia is controlling the shades or vice-versa. It’s possible the shades tapped into something dark in Amelia and are controlling her.”
“How would they do that?” Hannah asked. “I’m far from an expert, but it seems that would take a great deal of magic.”
I stared at her, gesturing to the street. “Did you miss what went on down here? I mean ... come on. The amount of magic that was thrown around on Main Street five minutes ago is unfathomable. We’re lucky we got off unscathed.”
“We’re lucky we have a magic baby,” Landon said. “I told you that kid was going to be born in swirling lights.”
I let my eyes drift to Hypnotic. I couldn’t see Clove, but I could feel her, even from so far away. Her emotions were a rollercoaster these days, and Thistle and I were often swept along for the ride because we were closest to her.
“We have a magic baby,” I admitted, rubbing my forehead. “She’s a lot more magic than we thought.”
Aunt Tillie folded her arms across her chest. “This is only the beginning. Somebody has to talk with her.”
Thistle and I automatically took steps back and spoke
at the same time.
“Not it.”
Aunt Tillie made a face. “Oh, you’re so funny. I can’t tell you how funny you are. Oh, wait, you’re not.”
“We have to talk about the baby as a family,” Landon insisted. “May I suggest a family dinner? And we can discuss the shades and how best to deal with them.”
It was the pragmatic way to go. Unfortunately, that’s not how the Winchesters rolled.
“I’m still not going to be the one to talk to her about giving birth to a glowing baby,” I warned. “I don’t have the energy to dry those tears.”
“Me either.” Thistle was emphatic. “This is a job for our mothers.”
“Yes. We did the heavy lifting with the shades. They can handle Clove.”
“I totally agree,” Aunt Tillie said. “It’s nice to be on the same page.”
I glared at her. I hated when we were on the same side. “Despite that, I’m sticking to what I just said. Mom and the aunts have to deal with this one.”
“Then we’ll handle everything in one shot over dinner,” Landon said.
21
Twenty-One
Thistle, Aunt Tillie and I went straight to the inn’s kitchen. Landon and Chief Terry promised they would watch Clove, keep her away from the conversation, but there was nothing natural about the way they interacted with her. Landon in particular kept staring at her stomach as if a bomb was about to go off.
“So you think Clove’s baby somehow stopped your head from being smacked against the pavement?” Mom summed up when we finished relating the story.
“Do you have another explanation?”
“Yes. Aunt Tillie did it and doesn’t want to own up to it because she thinks it will make her look soft.” Mom pinned Aunt Tillie with a pointed look. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Since when don’t I take credit for being a badass?” Aunt Tillie demanded. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would tell you if I’d done it. We don’t have time for games.”
Mom continued to stare into Aunt Tillie’s eyes, her bossiest face on display. After a few seconds, she relented. “Fine. Thistle, tell me exactly what you saw.”
“It happened fast,” Thistle replied. “Clove mentioned that something was happening on the street. I should point out that she was sitting on the couch when she said it, which means she sensed it rather than saw it.
“We both went to the window and saw Bay lifted from the ground,” she continued. “My first instinct was to run outside but it was already too late for that. Clove made this weird sound, like she was gurgling, and then she grabbed her stomach. I saw a spark, kind of a gold energy, rush out of her. The next thing I knew, Bay was on the grass in front of the sidewalk.”
“And that’s all that happened?” Mom pressed.
“You want more?” Thistle was incredulous. “It’s the baby.”
“It’s not the first time the baby has shown abilities,” I added. “Clove’s emotions have been all over the place. When she feels something now, we often do as well. She’s projecting. And that’s on top of her reaction to the runes I drew after Paisley’s body was found at the Dragonfly.”
Thistle slowly turned to me. “I forgot about that. She said the baby didn’t like the runes and then kept talking. I didn’t think to question her at the time, but now ... .”
“So, the baby doesn’t like the runes.” Mom said. “That’s a very strange thing to say, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“We still have to deal with it.” There was no way I would let my mother and aunts weasel out of this. “Clove has to be made aware that the baby is ... different.”
“She’s a Winchester,” Twila argued. “Of course she’s different. All Winchester babies are different.”
“This baby is even more different,” I insisted. “I think it’s because Sam has witch in his lineage. This baby is getting a double dose.”
Mom opened her mouth, as if to argue, and then snapped it shut.
“That does kind of make sense,” Marnie hedged. “We talked about it when they started dating, what it could mean for children. We pushed it aside because it seemed unlikely. Sam’s witch lines are weak.”
“Apparently they’re not that weak,” I said. “You have to talk to Clove. More importantly, you have to convince her to have the baby somewhere other than a hospital.”
Mom balked. “Why us?”
“Because you’re the adults.”
“Um, last time I checked, you were an adult, Bay,” Mom said. “Clove is essentially your sister. You have to deal with it.”
No way was I falling for that one. “I have enough to deal with. There are murderous shades out there and a teenaged witch who appears to be using the remnants of our magic against us. I am not going to handle Clove on top of that. You do it.”
“You.”
“You.”
“Oh, I love an adult argument,” Aunt Tillie drawled as she made her way to her recliner in the corner of the kitchen. “Nothing better than a mature discussion about the arrival of the next generation.”
The fact that Aunt Tillie was calling us immature was sobering. “Mom has to do it,” I said. “I have too much on my plate.”
“Fine.” Mom threw up her hands. “I’ll do it.”
Now I was suspicious. “You will?”
“Yes,” she said, “and you’re going to help.”
Yup. I should’ve seen that coming. “I don’t want to.”
“You’re coming anyway.” She grabbed my arm and squeezed. “Come on. We’re doing it now. We have an inn full of guests this evening. You’re going to be inundated with questions because some of them were downtown to see the show you guys put on.”
I glared at Thistle, who was edging toward the door. “Don’t you think Thistle should come too? If it’s a family thing, the whole family should be there.”
“Absolutely.” Mom froze Thistle in place with a single look. “You’re coming, young lady. Don’t even try to escape.”
Thistle stomped her foot. “I don’t want to.”
“If you make me chase you, it’s going to get ugly.”
It was an effective threat, because Thistle fell into step with her mother and moved toward the door. “Fine.”
Aunt Tillie cackled from her chair. “Have fun,” she called out.
Mom crooked her finger at Aunt Tillie. “You’re coming too.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re already on my list because of those leggings. Don’t think I didn’t notice the backside of them. You tried to be sly this morning and slip them on, but that didn’t work. You’re coming with us.”
Aunt Tillie turned petulant in the blink of an eye. “I would rather not.”
“Get up!” Mom’s voice was so icy it had me shuddering. “We’re doing this right now.”
For a moment, I thought Aunt Tillie would continue to argue — it was her way, after all — but she got to her feet. “You’re all on my list,” she warned. “Every single one of you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Thistle waved the threat off. “What else is new?”
“I’ve been researching new curses,” Aunt Tillie warned. “I’ve got a few ideas.”
“There’d better not be any skunks showing up in my inn,” Mom warned. “If they do, a bomb will show up in that greenhouse.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t blow up my greenhouse.”
“Not that sort of bomb.” Mom’s smile was evil enough that it sent chills down my spine. “We’re talking a glitter bomb, one that smells like rancid cupcakes and stains every bottle of wine pink.”
Aunt Tillie growled. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Then get it together. Clove is our priority right now.”
WHEN LANDON AND CHIEF TERRY SAW us walking into the library in a crowd, they exchanged amused looks and started toward the door. I wanted to call out to stop them, but I would’ve made the same choice.
Mom had no problem being the heavy. “Don’t even thin
k about it, boys,” she announced, causing them to freeze. “Last time I checked, you’re part of this family. You stick with the family during group discussions.”
Chief Terry issued a whine I’d never heard before. “I don’t want to. You’re about to talk about lady bits, and I cannot deal with that. I’ve known her since she was a little girl and didn’t have lady bits.”
Mom shot him a withering look. “She’s always had lady bits. She was born with them.”
“You know what I mean.” Chief Terry protested. “This is a female discussion. I’m going to the kitchen to eat cookies like a real man.”
“And I’m going with him,” Landon added.
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “Sit. Down.”
They didn’t even look at each other. Both scrambled for the couch, where they sat with their hands in their laps. Neither wanted to take on my mother. I was impressed with her command of the situation.
“Now, we need to talk to you, Clove.” Mom flashed a smile that was straight out of the Grinch cartoon movie.
“Yeah, that will relax her,” Thistle muttered.
I couldn’t help but agree, but I wisely kept my mouth shut.
“Is something wrong?” Clove’s eyes went wide. “Has something bad happened to Sam?”
“He’s at the Dandridge, or at least I think he is,” Mom replied, taking a seat next to Clove. “I’m sure he’s fine. I wish he were here for this conversation, but we have to roll with the punches.”
“Is the world ending? If so, I want to be on Aunt Tillie’s team for the apocalypse. You’re frightening, Aunt Winnie, but she’s going to survive and we all know it.”
Aunt Tillie pumped her fist. “Ha! I told you all. I’m the Daryl Dixon of the apocalypse.”
“What happens if it’s aliens instead of zombies?” Thistle demanded.
“Then I’m the Ellen Ripley of the apocalypse.”
“And a plague?” I asked.
Prelude to a Witch Page 20