“You’re a mean old broad,” Emily said.
“We like it,” Ingrid added. “But I never want to see you again after this. No offense.”
Emily laughed as Bernard huffed and Betty 2 rolled her eyes.
“Gabe,” Ingrid said. “We get out.”
He looked at her, over to Fiona and then down at the body that Ingrid was refusing to see.
“We stay together, we get out,” Gabe repeated. “Shall we get to it? We can’t do anything for Lucie now.”
Remy nodded, “She was a good kid.”
Ingrid paused and then asked, “Did you know her?”
“Pretty well.” Remy said, “Spoiled of course. But young. She might have grown out of it.”
Emily and Ingrid were very carefully not looking at Fiona again. All of their instincts were demanding it. After all…if he knew Lucie…
But of course, she’d put up her hood and stayed in the shadows.
“We need to get out,” Ingrid said. “Please tell Gabe how to do it.”
She wanted to add just in case Fiona kills you too, but before she could, Fiona rocketed into them.
Ingrid landed hard, felt Emily’s hand in hers, but did not feel Gabe. Fury and magic bypassed her exhaustion to push through her. If something happened to Gabe…spoiled Fiona was going to see just how dangerous a totally untrained witch like Ingrid could be.
Chapter 10
Emily’s head hit the stone floor of the catacombs with a thud. The world was spinning, the air was colder than it used to be, she wanted to puke, but most importantly she’d had her fill of these catacombs and this little brat Fiona who was pummeling Ingrid’s face. This bitch was going to pay.
Emily grabbed Fiona by the hair, and she turned on Emily.
She felt Fiona’s nails claw at her face, followed by the sticky, warm drips of blood. Deep breath, Emily. Try not to kill.
Hazel had taught Emily to lift towels with her mind. If she could do that when she wasn’t angry, she could lift a Mack truck today. And all she had to do was lift Fiona and prevent her from hurting anyone else. Emily stood up, fighting back the dizziness and the nausea, and threw all of her power at Fiona. She lifted her into the air and Emily flung the woman against the far wall and then held her there with her magic. Except Emily’s magic burned quickly. Holding someone up was harder than she thought and the power she held burned out fast.
Fiona slid down the wall just as Remy lunged back to his feet. Fiona was a fast little bugger. She must have punched him before she lunged at Ingrid and Emily.
Ingrid had crawled to Gabe. They were fighting over who was protecting the other one when Fiona lunged forward again.
“Careful,” Remy shouted. “She’s a shifter, and she’s stronger than you might think.”
Emily bounced on the tips of her toes. She might be spoiled and lazy, but she was also angry. She had rage to keep her going.
“You killed your friend,” Emily said. “Everyone will know.”
“She’ll never get to be the pretty little princess again,” Ingrid said. Emily knew the feel of her friend’s magic well enough to know the feel of Ingrid trying to set something on fire. There was a spark that flickered out, but Ingrid was focused. She and Gabe rose together, standing side by side.
“Princess?” Emily said it mockingly.
“Shut up,” Fiona hissed. “Lucie…”
“What she deserved it?” Ingrid asked as Gabe edge to the side a lantern in his hand.
“She did!”
“You’re a crazy broad,” Emily said edging the other way, trying to surround Fiona.
Remy held something in his hand as he came forward. Emily caught a glimpse of silver and guessed it was handcuffs. Probably special handcuffs.
“You guys are idiots how did you know it was me? I heard you tell Bernard. You’re too stupid to talk quietly, but you figured it out.”
“Who else was going to kill your best friend?” Emily's snide comment seemed to shock Fiona.
“She was my friend! You should have thought it was someone else.”
“It’s always friends and family,” Emily and Ingrid said together.
Fiona lunged at Ingrid, but Emily jumped onto her back.
“Get off,” Fiona screeched as her nails dug into Emily’s arm.
Emily grabbed a handful of hair as Ingrid lunged forward punching a solid fist into Fiona’s stomach.
“Oooof,” Fiona grunted, but she didn’t let go of Emily’s arm.
“She’s some kind of cat,” Ingrid said.
“Scars,” Emily whimpered and her right arm clutched Fiona’s throat tighter as her left hand yanked harder on that perfect length of hair.
“You are not going to win,” Ingrid said, stepping back and then leaning in to punch Fiona in a solid one, two punch. One in the face, and the second right to the chest. Fiona gasped, choked, and her nails loosened.
“Get back,” Gabe yelled, pulling at Ingrid as Remy grabbed a wrist and clicked a handcuff into place.
Emily let go as Remy forced the second cuff onto Fiona and stepped back. They were surrounded by the group with Betty 2 and Bernard looking shocked, the backpacker clicking pictures, and the professor against the wall.
“You look like crap,” Emily told Ingrid. “You’re going to bruise that face of yours.”
“You’re bleeding,” Ingrid countered, “And your ‘fro is out of control.”
They looked at the backpacker as one.
“The phone,” Ingrid said under her breath. She walked up to the kid and socked him hard on the arm.
“Ouch,” he yelped and Emily used what was left of her magic to grab the phone from him. “Heyyy—”
“What you planning on doing with those?” Ingrid asked as Emily flicked through his pictures.
“Look at this cute one,” Emily said as if Gabe and Remy weren’t dealing with Fiona. Emily showed a picture of Gabe’s arms wrapped around Ingrid as he examined her face.
“Oooh,” Ingrid said. “Send me that one before you delete the rest.”
“What?” Backpacker boy said. “Those are my evidence.”
“Right,” Ingrid and Emily said together and Emily slid his phone into her back pocket.
“My face,” Ingrid told Emily as they stole the kid’s phone. “It freaking hurts. Bad.”
“Looks terrible,” Emily said. “You’re gonna be ugly for a while. Does your little trick with lines and dark circles work on bruises?”
“I don’t know,” Ingrid said, sighing as she held her hand to her face.
“You broke a nail too.”
“Have you seen your toes? No one is going to give you a pedicure.”
They turned back to Gabe and Remy. Emily had seen fire in Ingrid’s eyes before, but this was a nuclear level event. Fiona was going to be lucky to survive these tunnels at all.
“Ingrid?” Emily asked.
Ingrid’s voice was creepily calm as she faced the killer, “Gabe back away. I’m going to kick her with my numb feet until I can feel them again. Deal?”
Gabe grabbed Ingrid’s bicep as the scary version of Emily’s friend stepped forward.
“Tell me why, Fiona. What did Lucie do to you?”
Fiona shouted at Ingrid. “She….she….her magic was stronger than mine. And she was taking it for granted. I didn’t actually mean to kill her….I….thought……I thought she’d fight back and finally start using her ability to shift. But she didn’t.”
Fiona struggled in her cuffs, “She was a coward, just like the two of you. You should have known the spell to get out! You should have been able to do so much to stop me. And Lucie! She took her magic for granted, magic that I would do anything to have. I turn into a HOUSECAT! A calico. She could turn into a wolf. And she never did. Not ever. She never used her nose. She didn’t hunt. She spent all her time flirting and shopping and napping.”
Ingrid and Emily looked at each other and then Ingrid said, “So you killed her?”
Emily snorted, s
haking her head. “You are sick. You killed your best friend because she wasn’t what you wanted her to be? And Abel. What did he ever do to you?”
“Abel and I were…..we….we were in love. Or I thought we were. He slept with her.”
“Oh,” Ingrid said. “That makes sense. I’d definitely torture you and Gabe if you slept together. It all makes sense now.”
Emily’s head cocked and she said, “But you never really dated Abel.”
Fiona’s mouth opened and then closed.
Ingrid looked between the two of them and said, “What was he drunk? Was this a party hookup? “
Fiona’s mouth gaped and she said, “I—shut up.”
“So you got Abel alone and you got him from behind?” Emily asked.
“Shut up,” Fiona said. “Shut up. You can’t prove anything.”
Ingrid dug through Emily’s bag, shuffling around for a while before she brought out a water bottle, took a sip and offered it to Emily.
Emily took a drink, felt the buzz of a truth potion and offered it to Fiona who just scowled.
“Don’t waste our water on her,” Betty 2 called.
“It’s a long walk back, probably,” Emily said.
Fiona took a grudging drink and Ingrid watched for a moment before she said, “You and Abel weren’t really in a relationship.”
“We could have been,” Fiona said, “If Lucie wasn’t walking around half-naked all the time. If she didn’t snuggle into him. If she didn’t try to steal him from me.”
“So they had to die. It’s not true about trying to help Lucie,” Emily said.
“I…” Fiona’s eyes narrowed and she screamed, “What did you do?”
“Isn’t it obvious, idiot? Geez,” Ingrid said, looking at Gabe and then offering him the bottle of water.
He took a long drink and then said, “Damn it, Ingrid.”
“You’d think she’d never been truth serumed before,” Emily said, taking another sip of water.
“It is illegal,” Remy said, “to dose people without their knowledge.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Emily tried smoothing her curls but one touch of her fingertips to her hair told her there was no help.
“You killed Lucie and Abel because they wanted each other.”
Fiona’s mouth gaped, she tried fighting, but it was useless. “Yes.”
“You got that, Remie?” Emily asked. He nodded once, looking disgusted “Perfect.”
“Why are you here?” Ingrid asked Gabe.
“I love you and missed you,” he said. “I want you to come home with me.”
Ingrid tensed as she heard what he was asking. Even Emily knew what that meant, Gabe wanted Ingrid to choose him over her. Her heart raced at the thought. She wasn’t sure what she felt. She had figured they’d finish their trip and things would go back to normal except Gabe would continue to be around more.
Fiona shook, and she did something with her hands, twisting as she said, “I didn’t mean too. It’s not my fault.”
She seemed to actually believe what she was saying. The girl was a real psycho, Emily thought. But then Fiona's handcuffs dropped to the ground. She shifted into a cat. And she wasn’t really a house cat. She looked like one, but she was bigger, and those claws were dangerous.
She stalked forward and then leapt—at Gabe. He took him right in the throat and Ingrid’s scream was terrifying.
Holy Gods, this situation was deteriorating rapidly. Before she could even think about what she was doing, Emily used her magic to grab one of the lanterns and knocked it toward Fiona who was snapping her jaws trying to get to Ingrid who was trying to fight the cat off of Gabe.
The lantern slammed into the cat, and Ingrid’s one, terrifying, instinctive magic fell into place. Her fire burst forth and used the lantern as fodder. The lantern exploded as Ingrid threw her body over Gabe’s.
The cat screamed and leapt back, but she stalked forward again even with her fur on fire, and her crazed gaze was set on Emily’s best friend. She channeled her very last bit of magic into the flames that had been sputtering out on the cat and fed them.
Emily released her magic and collapsed on to the blood soaked floor, trying to catch her breath and getting the overwhelming scent of burned fur. Gabe. She needed to get to Gabe and Ingrid.
But Remy was already on it. He raced the distance between where he stood and where Gabe lay on the ground bleeding. Ingrid was hysterical. And Emily’s mind was blank. She half-walked, half-crawled toward her friends and watched in awe as Remy’s magic closed Gabe’s wounds. Gabe passed out from the pain but once Remy was done, it looked as if Gabe was sleeping peacefully.
The wounds weren’t really healed, but they were closed up and Gabe wasn’t bleeding to death.
Remy kneeled down next to Ingrid and took her face in both of his hands. “He’s ok, little one.”
It didn’t sound condescending or at all like an insult. Emily thought that Ingrid looked like a frightened little girl. Gabe wounded was more than Ingrid could process. It’s a good thing he was going to be okay, because if something happened to Gabe, Ingrid, Emily was certain in that moment, would not survive it. She could not lose another love, not a love like Gabe.
Ingrid sniffled and leaned into the older fellow’s hands. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he said firmly and Emily willed Ingrid to believe it. To cling to it, at least until they found their way out of here.
Emily groaned. This guy really was from Hazel. They’d survived, but shit. Hazel. Shit. And Dean. Damn it. Emily and Ingrid would never live this down. This was maybe the worst situation they’d found themselves in yet. It was going to leave Hazel endlessly nagging them about taking their magic seriously. This was ridiculous. If Remy hadn’t shown up when he did, they would all be shifter food right now.
Remy stood up and focused his attention on Fiona. She wasn’t dead, but her breathing sounded bad.
In a swirl of light and magic, Emily watched as Remy lifted Fiona. He sketched something in the air, it was probably one of those runes Hazel told Emily she needed to learn. Emily could see the magic energy circle the cat and it seemed almost as if little silver threads wrapped all the way around the cat.
Emily turned to look at Remy, “Please tell me you can get us out of here? And Gabe…how long will he sleep?”
Remy smiled, “We are only steps now from the exit to the street level. And Gabe will wake soon. He’ll need a good bed, some hot food, and to be left alone to sleep for a day or two. But he’ll be completely fine.”
Remy started leading the others out as Ingrid and Emily waited for Gabe to wake.
“It’s good for him that he was with us,” Ingrid said shakily. “He needed us to save him.”
“He’s a good damsel,” Emily agreed, watching as Ingrid’s hands carefully smoothed Gabe’s hair, occasionally shifting down to rest on his chest and then back to his face.
Each time she touched his chest, she waited for his breath to come a time or two before she let her fingers travel again. When he woke, she leaned down and said, “Don’t you ever do that again!”
Gabe sat slowly up, his fingers running over the closed wounds on his neck.
“Remy is helping Bernard and Betty 2 out. Rest up, buttercup. We’re next.”
Ingrid and Emily helped Gabe to his feet and followed Remy up and out of the tunnels of death.
“Ingrid, no more historical tours, ok?” Emily said as she set her hands on the metal ladder that would lead them out of another manhole.
Ingrid grinned, eyes fixed on Gabe as she replied, “I’ll kill you if you even suggest it.”
“Deal,” Emily said. “We’ll shake on it once we’ve had a week at the spa.”
Gabe’s voice was weak. “Will that be long enough? I demand at least a month at the spa. I’m the one that nearly had my throat ripped out.”
Ingrid tensed, but Gabe pulled her closer to him even as she helped him walk.
“I’ll kill you if you ever try som
ething like that again, my pretty. You won’t be any good to me if you're dead.”
Emily looked at Gabe and smiled. “Looks like we’re both dead if we try to cross her. Help me remember that.”
Then they stepped out of the tunnel and into the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. It was maybe the most beautiful thing Emily had ever seen.
Epilogue
“Oh my everliving, shizzy shiz,” Ingrid said. She sat down outside of the catacombs exit, covered in muck and water and said, “I should have realized.”
“Realized what, you freak? Get off the ground. There’s wine back at the hotel. And hot water. And probably no killers,” Emily said, nudging Ingrid hard with that destroyed pointy-toed flat.
“Oh my gods, I’m going to puke.” Ingrid said, feeling as if the blood in her head was pooling in her stomach. She really did need to puke. And she was hungry. It was the worst combination ever. She was probably not going to survive.
“Why?” Emily asked. “I mean, it’s not the first time you’ve had dead people gook on you. Take a shower, a bath, a shower again and get over it. Maybe set yourself on fire a little bit. There’s wine at the hotel.”
“Would you SHUT UP about the wine? I’m having a freak out here.”
“Why?” Gabe asked, squatting down to meet Ingrid’s eyes. He looked so concerned. So sweet. He had been such a hero, and she loved him. But…was she ready for this? She’d given up on it so long ago. She took a shaky breath, trying to remember how much she loved this man in front of her and mostly just feeling the need to puke and panic. “You didn’t have a freak out over the murders. You held it together in the water.”
“Barely,” Emily said as if she hadn’t been jumping at the possibility of everything that had rubbed against her leg.
“I,” Ingrid started, choked and then whimpered, “I can’t say it.”
“Spit it out, hooker,” Emily snapped. “I need to go. Someone get us a cab and Ingrid will give you money. Or a pickle.”
“Don’t you see? Pickles. Coffee. PICKLES.”
Emily flopped onto the ground next to her friend, looking as pale as Ingrid felt, and said, “No way.”
Paris Murder: An Inept Witches Mystery Page 9