A Midsummer Night's Scream (The Dulcie O'Neil Series Book 7)

by H. P. Mallory

  A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S SCREAM

  Book 7 of the Dulcie O’Neil series

  HP Mallory

  Copyright ©2015 by HP Mallory

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  ALSO BY HP MALLORY:

  THE JOLIE WILKINS SERIES:

  Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble

  Toil and Trouble

  Be Witched (Novella)

  Witchful Thinking

  The Witch Is Back

  Something Witchy This Way Comes

  THE DULCIE O’NEIL SERIES:

  To Kill A Warlock

  A Tale Of Two Goblins

  Great Hexpectations

  Wuthering Frights

  Malice In Wonderland

  For Whom The Spell Tolls

  Eleven Snipers Sniping (Short Story)

  A Midsummer Night’s Scream

  THE LILY HARPER SERIES:

  Better Off Dead

  The Underground City

  To Hell And Back

  THE PEYTON CLARK SERIES:

  Ghouls Rush In

  Once Haunted, Twice Shy

  THE BRYN AND SINJIN SERIES:

  Sinjin

  The Scent

  Acknowledgements:

  To my mother: Thank you for everything you do.

  To my son: Thank you for making me the proudest mom out there! I adore you.

  To Len: Thank you for being so understanding about me getting this book done! Your encouragement doesn’t go unnoticed. I love you.

  To my editor, Teri, at www.editingfairy.com: Thank you for always making my books stronger.

  To my beta reader Evie from Paromantasy: Thank you for always being read, willing and able to read my books!

  To Dina Marie: Thank you for all your help with the cop bits in this book! You’re awesome!!

  To Tara Lynn Ryan: Thank you so much for entering the contest to come up with the title for this book. It’s fantastic!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS:

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Friend the Dulcie Characters on Facebook!

  About H. P. Mallory

  ONE

  Leaning back in my chair, I propped my ankles up on the desk in front of me. Then I pulled my arm back and threw the red rubber ball against the opposite wall as hard as I could. It hit the wall, bounced against the floor, and banged into the ceiling before hitting the floor again. Then, as if seeking refuge, it disappeared underneath the fake ficus tree that was doing nothing more than collecting dust in the corner of the room.

  “Dulcie!” I heard Sam’s shrill voice coming from the office adjacent to mine. “Stop it! You’re driving me crazy!”

  Sam was my best friend and also a very gifted witch—one who, apparently, didn’t like the repetitive sound of a rubber ball banging against the wall. I huffed out a breath of indignation while admitting to myself that I, too, had already tired of my incessant game.

  Looking for something else on which to focus, I turned my attention to the large window, which took up most of the wall beside me. The city of Splendor, California, was splashed with the brilliant colors of fall, and the leaves of the maple trees had just started to yellow and brown. A wind whipped through the branches, and the leaves shuddered, a few of them breaking free and drifting down to the ground below.

  “I’m sure there are more productive things you could be doing,” Sam said, her voice now coming from directly behind me.

  I wheeled around in my chair and faced her with an eager frown. “Well, I was in the middle of one rather productive thing, but someone interrupted me.” I arched an eyebrow just for the hell of it. “I won’t mention any names though.”

  “Clearly, you’re in need of something useful to occupy yourself,” she said as she crossed her arms over her modest chest. She tapped her index finger against her lips like she did whenever she was busy pondering something. “Do I need to make another Starbucks run?” she asked, a smile brightening her pretty face.

  Yep, Sam was definitely attractive with her plump lips, large, doe-like, brown eyes and chocolate-colored hair, which she always wore in a tidy bob. The comparison to a deer was actually a pretty good one. Looking at Sam’s incredibly long, thin legs and her overall graceful appearance, she resembled Bambi in human form. Well, in human girl form, that is.

  If Sam could be compared to Bambi, I would have been more along the lines of Thumper. I’m only five-foot-one, but although I’m small, I’m strong and toned since I insist upon keeping myself in shape. In my line of work, you have to be quick on your feet; it could mean the difference between life and death. And since I’ve only been alive for twenty-six years, that difference is a hefty one for me.

  “I’ve already had four cups of coffee today, and it’s only,” I glanced at the clock on the wall opposite me before looking back at Sam again, “eleven.” My hand twitched as I longed for my little red ball to throw again. “Any more caffeine and I’ll probably have a heart attack.”

  Sam didn’t say anything right away as she entered my office. She pulled out one of the guest chairs on the opposite side of my desk. Taking a seat, she studied me in that way of hers, which meant I probably wouldn’t like whatever was about to emerge from her mouth. “I know this is hard for you, Dulcie,” she started in her mom tone. “You’ve never been the type who can just sit around.”

  “Yep,” I agreed with a sigh because there was really no denying my current state of boredom. After receiving express orders to man Headquarters, otherwise known as the ANC (Association for Netherworld Creatures), I had to remain rooted here for the time being. And Sam was right—desk jobs weren’t for me.

  “But you realize you’re the only one who is qualified to run this office in Knight’s absence?” Sam continued, nodding her head like she was also trying to convince me in sign language.

  Knight Vander was the head honcho of the ANC division in Splendor. Technically, he was my boss, but personally, he was also my boyfriend. Now, however, he was absent and had been for the past two months. Not that I was particularly upset about it …

  I took a deep breath and sighed it out again. “I really don’t need a pep talk, Sam,” I grumbled. Truth be told, I wasn’t good with emotional stuff; I never had been. Instead, I preferred the stark reality of cold, hard facts. Cold, hard facts couldn’t cry and give me a guilt trip. “All I really need is to get the hell out from behind this desk so I can start patrolling the streets again.”

  “You’ve never been good at accepting advice, or help in general,” Sam continued as if I hadn’t replied at all. She was still using her mom voice because she knew it would make me relent sooner or later. “So it’s a good thing that I can’t take no for an answer.” She inhaled and sat up straight before leveling her determined expression on me again. “I know you’re bored out of your mind and feel like you’re missing out on all the action happening in the Netherworld. And I’m more than convinced you’re missing Knight like crazy.”

  “Yes, yes, and yes,” I admitted, seeing no way around the fact that Sam was
going to insist we have this conversation. The sooner I admitted my own defeat, the sooner I could get back to bouncing the ball against the wall. ’Course, I could always hope that aliens would touch down in Splendor, or a gaggle of angry centaurs would storm through town. If those two options failed, however, my next best hope was that Knight would come back home so we could make stormy, passionate love for the rest of the afternoon and long into the night.

  Even though I was bored out of my mind, at the same time, I was also unnaturally antsy. I knew the situation in the Netherworld wasn’t all roses and rainbows. Far from it. No, it was basically one big clusterf--k. The reason it had become such an immense, jumbled mess had everything to do with the Head of the Netherworld, who was also my father.

  Disclaimer: Even though my father, Melchior O’Neil, and I were genetically related by blood, that’s where all similarities ended. My father was a manipulative son of a bitch who had brazenly abused the title as Head of the Netherworld. He was also the top dog of the illegal potions industry, which was basically responsible for distributing illegal street potions from the Netherworld to Earth.

  I, meanwhile, was and always had been dedicated to upholding the law and fighting the good fight. As a Regulator for the ANC and, basically, a glorified cop, my sole mission was to make sure the creatures of the Netherworld behaved themselves and didn’t cause any problems on the Earthly plane.

  Yes it was now common knowledge among humans that creatures such as witches, fairies (that’s me!), goblins, werewolves, and vampires existed, but that didn’t mean we weren’t subject to a harsher set of laws and discrimination, all the same. It was my duty to curtail any wrongdoing by my own in order to ensure that we continued to pave the path to equality, at least where humans were concerned.

  So given my job description, you can probably imagine the huge paradox in having a father who was the head honcho of the illegal potions industry. In my defense, though, as soon as I learned that was the case, I severed all familial ties with the man. And that’s saying a lot. Since I’d already lost my mother, as far as bloodlines and family went, Melchior was it. Well, that was before I killed him.

  “You aren’t resentful of Knight that he’s over there in the thick of it while you’re not?” Sam asked, eyeing me in a way that suggested she imagined the answer was a yes.

  “No, I’m not resentful!” I railed at her. Frowning, I let her know in no uncertain terms that I understood the reasons Knight hadn’t been around. Because Knight ranked high up in the list of ANC officials, and because he’d been absolutely paramount in helping me take my father out, it made sense that he’d also be a heavyweight when it came to setting up the new world order in the Netherworld. “I’m just disappointed that I can’t be a part of it too,” I finished, sighing my despondency aloud.

  “Well, even though it might not feel like it, you are doing your part, you know?” Sam said, offering me a smile of consolation as she slapped her thighs and looked like she was about to break into song and dance.

  “What? By sitting here all day long, throwing a ball at the wall, and getting pep talks from you?”

  She shrugged, but that annoying smile was still plastered all over her face. “Well, it’s not like we’re doing nothing. Last time I checked, we had two weres in custody, as well as a pixie, and we did manage to finally take Rudy down.” She paused for a second or two, as if hoping she’d see a smile break across my lips. “That’s got to count for something, right?”

  Rudy was a goblin who had the bad habit of breaking into houses and dressing up in ladies’ undergarments. “Really, Sam? That’s the best you could do?” I asked. Frowning at her, I shook my head and wondered if this day could get any worse.

  “What?” she scoffed, pretending to be offended. “We’ve been after Rudy for a while!”

  “The pantie bandit?”

  “My point is: it’s not like we’re sitting around doing nothing! Even though they might be keeping busier in the Netherworld …”

  “Way busier,” I muttered.

  “Don’t forget that we’re keeping the streets of Splendor safe!”

  “Right,” I argued, feeling my eyebrows knitting together in the middle of my forehead as frustration surged through me. “We’re doing a damn good job of protecting Splendor against criminals who want to dress up in bras and panties!” Flustered, I pushed against the desk, the wheels of my chair sending me whizzing backwards, until I rammed into the wall behind me. “While Knight is busy busting the real bad guys, we’re keeping Victoria’s Secret in business! Good for us!”

  “I’m trying here, Dulce,” Sam said. Her tone sounded defeated as she shook her head and threw her hands up in the air.

  “It’s okay,” I replied as I tried to smile. Unfortunately, my mouth wasn’t ready to comply. “You don’t have to do all this, Sam.” I stood up and took a deep breath before approaching the window and wondered what was going on in the Netherworld at this very minute. “I understand why I’m here and why Knight is over there. I’m not happy about it; but it is what it is.”

  Sam didn’t say anything, so I turned around to face her. Her attention was settled on the bookcase across the room. Truth be told, this was once Knight’s office, before duty summoned him to the Netherworld. Now I was adopting it as my own. I figured if I had to assume the role as Head of the ANC in Splendor, I might as well have the real estate to go along with the title.

  “I miss him,” she said in a soft voice, directing her attention to a framed photograph of Knight, Sam, me, and one of our old colleagues, Trey. He’d been killed in the Netherworld during the attack on my father. In the picture, Knight’s arm was draped around Sam and me, and Sam was hugging Trey who just beamed at the photographer, his round face appearing almost cherubic.

  “I know,” I said with a sigh that went all the way down to my toes. I couldn’t pull my attention away from the photograph even though I tried. In general, I attempted to avoid looking at the picture because it seized me with a depression that took me days to shake.

  Even though the photo wasn’t shot too long ago, somehow, it seemed like it came from a completely different lifetime. We all looked so happy, so unconcerned with our futures, so completely oblivious. No one had a clue what would happen to Trey, or to all of us.

  “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about him,” I admitted.

  “He was a good friend to all of us,” Sam said, nodding, both of us staring at the picture. It seemed neither of us wanted to break eye contact with the image of a much more innocent time. “And wherever he is now, I’m sure it’s a better place.”

  “I hope so,” I whispered. “I really hope so.”

  ###

  The shrill ringing of my cell phone woke me up. I groped for the noisy object on my nightstand, and locating it, I opened my eyes as I wondered who could have been calling me at whatever ungodly hour it was.

  “This is Dulcie,” I grumbled in a sleep heavy voice, when I didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID.

  “Dulce?”

  It was Knight.

  I sat bolt upright and my heartbeat started racing through me as I fought to catch my breath. The darkness of my bedroom suddenly seemed as if it were closing in on me, suffocating me in its velvety blackness. “Is everything okay? Where are you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he answered in a clipped and hurried tone. “I need you to meet me at Headquarters as soon as you can.”

  “Okay,” I answered immediately, wondering what was going on. Preferring to know what I needed to prepare myself for, I asked, “Is there anything I should know before I go down there?”

  “No,” he answered amidst the sound of other people’s voices audible in the background. It sounded like he was in the middle of something. “I don’t have time to fill you in right now. Just meet me there?”

  “Okay.”

  “See you in about twenty minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Drive safely,” he
added in a softer tone before the sounds in the background became considerably louder. I was about to respond, but upon hearing the hollow, droning beep on the other end, I knew Knight had already hung up.

  I set the phone back on my bedside table and jumped out of bed, turning on the lamp as I reached for the same pair of jeans I’d worn the previous evening. I followed suit with my sports bra, which was a must seeing as how I’m a natural C cup. I can’t run braless without being in a lot of pain.

  I pulled on a white, long-sleeved T-shirt, and when I caught my reflection in the mirror, I noticed my elbow-long golden strands were sorely in need of a brush. Since time was of the essence, I grabbed the only baseball cap I owned and secured it on top of my head, hoping it would suffice temporarily. I looked more like a kids’ baseball coach than a cop, but c’est la vie!

  I fastened my holster around my waist and picked up the Op 6, which sat on my nightstand, beside my cell phone. My Op 6 was a Netherworld-issued gun, and most similar to a 9mm Glock. However, mine was loaded with dragon blood bullets instead of lead—dragon’s blood being toxic to any Netherworld creatures. I nestled the gun into the holster and slid my feet into my tennies before running out of the bedroom.

  Throwing open the front door to my humble apartment, I hastily locked it behind me before hightailing straight for the ANC-provided black Yukon Denali, which I’d parked right in front of my apartment. I unlocked it and threw myself into the driver’s seat, cranking the engine as soon as my butt touched the black leather. Slamming the door shut, I put the SUV in drive, and started for Headquarters, all the while wondering what awaited me there.

  ANC Headquarters is a white concrete, two-story building with dark, triangular windows that never fail to remind me of jack-o’-lantern eyes. I live maybe ten minutes from Headquarters, but because I was speeding, I made it in eight. I pulled into the parking lot beside the building and put the Denali into park. Killing the engine, I dropped down to the ground and slammed the door shut behind me before heading for the double doors.