by Evie Hart
She was cut off by the ‘pop’ of Samson arriving on the counter. “Where is she? She’s here. I know she is. My spidey-sense is tingling.”
Spidey-sense? “You’re a cat, Sam,” I reminded him.
He offered me a death glare for my troubles.
“Where do you think she is?” Nicole frowned at him.
“The fish! She’s here!” He popped right back out again, and seconds later, I heard Snow shout at him for scaring her.
Unlike her relationship with Angus, Snow and Samson were basically married.
“I hate cats,” Nicole muttered. “Rude little critters.”
I snorted. “You do not hate cats. You hate that yours doesn’t listen to you, even though you can speak to all kinds of animals.”
She sighed, admitting I was right without saying a word. Her magical strength lay with animals, the same as her paternal grandmother’s had. She could talk to any animal, unlike most other witches who could only talk to familiars. It didn’t matter if it was a horse or a bird or a bug. She could get something from all of them.
Which meant she was practically a Buddhist when it came to animals. Although she could block them out, she still once cried over stepping on an ant whose last words she’d heard.
I know.
Magic was weird.
“Tell me everything that happened this morning.” Nicole snapped a hairband off her wrist and tied her wavy, light brown hair into a ponytail at the base of her skull. “Amelie Vine is dead, and Betty Lou is unconscious?”
I nodded. “I went to report Grandma’s binding and found Amelie on the floor. I don’t know how she died, but it wasn’t pretty. Blood was everywhere.” I shuddered at the memory. “Betty Lou is barely alive, but she is. They took her to the hospital.”
“Dang,” she said, leaning on her forearms. “Do they know what happened?”
“If they do, I’m not privy to it. Besides, that new detective was too busy trying to accuse me of murder to actually investigate it.” I was fully aware of the bitter tone in my voice, and I wasn’t going to let it go.
Me.
A murderer.
The idea was ridiculous. And believe me, I’d been an unruly teen, so I was acquainted with ridiculous ideas.
Nicole choked on her own spit. “He accused you of murder?”
I nodded. “Said I had the motive because of the Council’s position on Grandma. Also, she’d been in Betty Lou’s office the day before getting on her nerves. She had to be banished, and Betty Lou had threatened to trap her.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Everyone knows you can’t fully trap a ghost without a trial and a Head Council vote. He really thinks you did it?”
“I don’t know. I might have a so-called motive to attack Betty Lou, but I’ve never seen Amelie in my life. I don’t even know what she is. I think he was just trying to see how far he could push me.”
She tapped a finger against her lips thoughtfully. “I guess nobody told him about Ophelia.”
“No, but thanks to Snow, he knows now.”
“Was he scared? He should be scared. I’ve seen you throw fireballs.”
“Actually, he was more amused than anything,” I said, remembering how he’d fought a smile. “Said she was inventive.”
She pushed off the counter and went over to the gray parrot who’d once told her his name was Ross. “Stop it. I’ll feed you in a minute, you greedy creature.” She paused. “Stop shouting at me or you can wait until lunch!”
It was always weird seeing her talk to animals.
“That’s better.” She put her finger through the bars of the cage and scratched the top of his head, looking at me. “Inventive. That’s one way to describe Ophelia.”
“And every witch in the line since,” I muttered. “It’s not exactly a reputation I’m comfortable with.”
Nicole shrugged, going for the bird feed. “It’s one that Dax Sanders will get quickly acquainted with if he keeps accusing you of murder. I bet Cherry is fit to be tied that she’s stuck. She’d pay to see Betty Lou knocked off her high horse.”
That was, sadly, true.
“Talking of Dax Sanders… He’s single, you know.”
I rolled my eyes and went to help her feed the birds. “I couldn’t give a spell about his relationship status. He could be getting a booty call from the Kraken for all I care. The man accused me of murder.”
“All right, but even you have to admit he’s hotter than Hell.”
“Wouldn’t know. I’ve never been.” I tapped the side of a cage belonging to a budgerigar who tried to nip my finger. “Cut that out.”
“You smell like cat,” Nicole said absently. “He doesn’t like it.”
“He smells like bird. You don’t see me complaining here.” I shut the door to the cage. “Why do you care so much about Dax Sanders? Are you finally over Reese Vorheese?”
The way her cheeks lit up bright red told me everything I needed to know about that.
No. No, she was not over the eldest son of the ruling fae family.
“Nicole,” I groaned. “I thought we discussed this.”
“We did! I know, I know.” She dipped her head and put the bird feed back. “I just—you know how it is.”
“Yes, he’s a fae. He’ll be on the Council one day. He has to marry a fae.” I waggled my finger at her. “Nothing good comes from inter-species mixing. You know that.”
Her face softened, and she squeezed my hand. “I know. I know how you feel about it.”
“It has nothing to do with how I feel about it, Nicole Thorn. You know better than to get mixed up with that. The last witch who married a fae lost us half our family.” I knew my expression was darkening, and no matter how I tried to stop it, I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t the only one who’d lost a parent the night of the battle.
“I know, and if Dad were here now, he’d kick me through the wards and block me from coming back until I got some sense into my head, but it’s just fun. We both know what he has to do. There’s nothing wrong with a magical booty call.” She paused. “Have you ever had sex while flying?”
“And on that note, I’m out.” I backed toward the door. “Tell Snow to come and find me when she’s taken her tail out of her backside.”
Nicole saluted. “I’ll tell Mom you’re back.”
“She’ll know,” I said, remembering what Aunt Rose said about the wards rippling when I returned home. “Come for dinner tonight, okay?”
“Rose won’t mind?”
I shrugged. “No. She’ll be glad to cook for a full house. Can you ask Aunt Shelly and Dotty, too?”
She nodded. “I’ll let you know.”
I tossed her a wave and left her in control of my crazy cat.
If the animal whisperer couldn’t control her, I sure as hell didn’t stand a chance.
• • •
Grandma hovered over me like a bad rash. No matter the room of the house I went in, she followed me. She was desperate for news on Betty Lou, and it wasn’t to see how she was doing.
Was she dead yet? Who did she need to thank for doing it? Did I think she’d recover? Why couldn’t I call the hospital?
In the end, I locked myself in the bathroom next to my room and flicked a banishment spell in her direction. It wouldn’t keep her long—it was a pathetic excuse for a spell, deliberately—but I needed to pee, and I didn’t want an audience for that.
She was waiting for me outside the door when I opened it. I bit back a groan at the sight of her. She’d changed her clothes in the last five minutes and was now wearing a sequined bodysuit and had her hair permed like she’d regressed to the eighties in style.
I didn’t know how to react to that, so I ignored her annoyed stance and walked right past her.
“Avery Thorn, you stop there and listen to me!”
As a child, that would have terrified me. She’d have been able to snap her fingers and boom. I’d have stopped.
Being alive was a beautiful thing.
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br /> “Go away,” I shot over my shoulder, taking the huge mahogany staircase down to the main floor. The Thorn farmhouse was more a mansion than anything, complete with three floors, seven bedrooms, five baths, a library, two studies, an attic, and two floors of basements, plus what felt like five hundred other rooms. The other rooms were little more than storage, but I was pretty sure one held swords.
What a witch needed a sword for, I couldn’t tell you.
“I want to know about Betty Lou!” Grandma floated after me, thumping on the wall and making tiny booms as she did so.
“You’re going to turn into a poltergeist if you don’t rein it in,” I snapped, stopping in the main hall and turning. I pointed my finger at her. “You know how the afterlife works. You helped plenty of lost souls move on. Behave, or I’ll turn you in to the Council for poltergeist activity.”
She folded her arms and snapped her lips shut. She didn’t need to know that was a bluff, but she knew I wasn’t wrong. Too many misdeeds as a ghost, and there was no coming back from being a poltergeist.
Then I’d have to let her be trapped. The decision would be out of my hands.
And she knew it, too.
“Stop haunting me. I don’t know anything more than you do about Betty Lou. All I know is that she went to the hospital barely alive, and that’s that.” I stalked into the kitchen and went to the find the ever-present pitcher of sweet tea Aunt Rose kept on the counter. I swear, she had it spelled to be constantly cold and full.
Grandma sniffed. “I heard you met the new detective.”
Soft fur attached to my legs circled my ankles. The warmth that came with my familiar being near told me Snow had had her fill of fish she couldn’t catch and had made her way home.
“He’s a turd,” Snow said, bounding up onto a chair then the table in the center of the room. “He accused her of murder. Can you believe him?”
Grandma narrowed her eyes. “Why’d he accuse you of murder?”
Snow filled her in before I had a chance to even open my mouth.
“Did anyone tell him about Ophelia?”
“I did! I did!” Snow practically bounced on the table.
“Did you remember the mosquitos?”
“I did!”
“Avery, give her a scratch from me. I taught her well.”
I shot them both a side-eye and took my glass of ice-cold tea into the family living room. Not quite as posh as the formal living room my grandmother had used to receive guests, it had a certain warmth and comfort that had me kicking off my shoes and lying back on the sofa.
“Avery! Are you not going to discuss this with me?” Grandma floated in and got in my face, leaning right over me.
“What is there to discuss? I didn’t kill Amelie, and I didn’t hurt Betty Lou. I wanted to bind your unruly behind as much as she wanted you bound,” I retorted, sitting back up and making her move. “If it weren’t for you, he never would have accused me in the first place.”
Grandma threw her hands in the air. “That’s right! Blame me! It’s all my fault!”
“Technically,” Angus said, sliding into the room and jumping onto the sofa. “It is your fault.”
I smiled smugly and scratched the top of his head.
“You’re supposed to be on my side, you belligerent little creature.” Grandma’s eyes narrowed.
“Just because I’m bloody bound to you until your stubborn soul leaves this plane doesn’t mean I’m on your side. I’m on the side of common sense, and Avery has more of that than you ever did.”
Oh, excellent.
I took my hand back. “I’m not getting involved in y’all’s fight. All I’m sayin’ is that in the last twenty-four hours, I bound a ghost, found a dead body, an almost dead body, and got accused of murder.”
Everyone stopped. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.
“If y’all want to fight, go do it elsewhere.”
“You can’t kick me out,” Grandma said. “This is my house!”
“My name is on the papers,” I reminded her. Man, that was convenient to have… “Technically, this is my house.”
Grandma pursed her lips. “Fine. I’ll visit with Lady Barnacles and see if her ghosts can find out anything about Betty Lou. Not that I’m expecting much. The dang woman complained for three hours about the service in the attic last night. If she wanted tea brought to her, she should go find herself a ghostly butler.” She’d barely finished her sentence before she drifted through the wall and disappeared.
Angus took one look at me and darted out of the room.
Snow, however, jumped up onto the sofa with me. “Don’t worry,” she said, using my thighs as her own personal cushion as she circled. “I’m far more likely to murder someone than you are.”
“And more likely to get away with it, given that you’re a cat.”
“Huh.” She settled down into a ball, looking up at me. “You’re right. Maybe I was wrong about what I said to the cop. Maybe you’d use me to murder.”
Yes. I could just imagine her getting her paws dirty for me.
She sniffed, turning her face from me in disgust. “I heard that.”
I sighed and flopped back down.
Whatever.
CHAPTER SIX
FAMILY DINNER WAS, basically, a disaster.
Not this one in particular. It was merely a general observation. That was what happened when you got six women, one boy, and a matriarchal ghost together in one room. Not to mention a handful of familiars.
Where Aunt Rose was my aunt by marriage, Aunt Shelly and Aunt Bella were my aunts by blood. They were my mom’s sisters, and Dotty and Nicole were their daughters respectively. Rose had grown up with our family, and it had surprised nobody that she’d married our uncle.
The moms, as we sometimes called them, had always had one thing in common—their magical affinity for kitchens and gardens. Herbology had been a passion for them all, so it wasn’t a surprise that I walked into the kitchen and found the three of them crowding the kitchen table that was covered in herbs and other various things.
It was the only thing that had kept them together after they all lost their husbands, plus a brother and sister, in the battle between the fae and the witches.
“Avery!” Bella and Shelly rushed me, both of them squeezing me until I was in a Thorn witch sandwich. Air left my lungs in an “oomph” as Shelly held me against her sizable bust.
My aunts couldn’t have been more different. Shelly was short and plump with a mass of wiry, dark-brown curls that were currently streaked with scarlet, and she had the kind of eyes you always imagined Santa had—small, dark, but always twinkling with laughter. Bella was tall and willowy, and she’d dyed her light brown hair into a deep chestnut that shone copper when the light hit it. Her eyes were big and green, just like Nicole’s, but they both gave me that instant feeling of being right at home when they touched me.
It made me miss my mom even more.
With the pleasantries out of the way, I asked, “What are you doing?”
“Blending you some tea,” Aunt Rose replied from the other end of the table. “I thought that you might need some help sleeping after your morning.”
I smiled gratefully.
“And I have these.” Aunt Shelly’s eyes twinkled as she held up her fingers. A garden witch to the core, I knew she’d be able to imbue the herbs with a little something extra.
I was a little afraid since she’d done a little “extra” before. To Moonshine. Nobody knew how.
She wasn’t allowed to brew it anymore.
“Terrible about Betty Lou and Amelie.” Aunt Bella shook her head slowly, picking up the mortar and pestle she’d been using until I’d crashed their party. “Do you know anything more?”
“I don’t,” I said honestly, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. “I think Snow tried getting over to the hospital earlier with Samson, but the building is so heavily warded since that mouse familiar was sneaking in to poison someone’s hus
band.”
Aunt Shelly shuddered. “I hate mice. As much as the damn creature gets in my way, I’m glad we got cats.”
Aunt Rose snorted. “Speak for yourself. Honey only came out of her cage when she watched me spell it so Snow couldn’t do her little vanishing trick.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I really have to do something about that.”
Aunt Bella sniggered. “The girls are in the library. Dotty’s looking up something about spells to view the past. She thinks if she can pull it off, she can see what happened to Betty Lou and Amelie.”
That wasn’t a bad idea. And, if anyone could do it, it was Dotty. She was a Seer, and while she’d seen the past before, she’d never forced it.
“Thanks. I’ll go see if I can help.”
I walked through the house to the library. Bookshelves were wall-to-wall, and every last shelf was rammed with books. Classics, romances, fairy tales… Spell books, potions books, witch lore, witch history, fae history, vampire—you get it. If there was a book on it, we had it.
A huge fireplace took center place. The open fire burned without heat, and the gentle glow it gave off illuminated the huge family portrait that hung above it. The photo had been taken six months before the battle and had everyone—Grandma, the moms, Aunt Rose, TJ, and me and my cousins.
Our uncles.
Our fathers.
My heart gave a pang, but I batted away the emotion and focused on my cousins sitting at a large dining-style table. Dotty had her back to me, but her bountiful curls were like a calling card. She had thick, rich hair that was more red than it was brown, and it was currently forming a curtain between her and the outside world as she poured over a book.
Nicole’s feet were up on the table, and she peered over a wine glass at me. “I see you’re here to join the party.” She nodded in the direction of the fireplace.
Samson and Snow were curled up on the sofa together, with Dotty’s gray familiar, Smoky, on the rug cleaning his paws.
“Has Angus seen yet?” I asked, pulling out a chair.
She shook her head. “He’s arguing with Terrence in the greenhouse.”
Ah, the long-dead gardener who still watered the flowers and herbs twice a day. We were still trying to figure out how he got enough strength to hold the watering can for as long as he did.