Murder by séance. I should hide the evidence. I sat up in bed. I couldn’t leave the locket in my purse.
I pulled it out and examined it. A compass design had been engraved on top of it, giving it a masculine feel. It had heft too. I tried to open it, but the clasp resisted. I could use magic, but no spell came to mind. I would work on it tomorrow.
A large landscape in oil hung above my bed. I pushed it to the side to get to the safe built into the wall. Holding the palm of my right hand in front of the lock, I whispered an unlocking spell: “I call upon the four quarters of the earth, Alohomora. Alohomora. Alohomora.” I moved my hand in an S pattern as I spoke and the lock clicked open. I put the locket inside and closed the safe. “Alohomora,” I said again. A clicking sound assured me the lock was in place.
The first time I used Hermione’s spell on a whim to hide Jonathon’s birthday present in the hall closet I had been shocked by its power. Then I opened the lock on my desk drawer. I’m new at this whole witch thing—which, I might add, I didn’t ask for—and it fits me like a clown suit. But that’s another story. At first, I had no idea the locking spell would work. Sparky explained that magic spells had more to do with the person who casts it than the precise words used, and, seeing as I have considerable witch mojo, or so I’m told, Alohomora works like a charm for me. Pun intended. It’s one of ten spells I’ve put in my personal Book of Shadows.
Now what? Part of me wanted to slide under the covers and close my eyes, but I knew I couldn’t sleep so I opted for a hot bubble bath. There’s nothing like bubbles to untangle life’s problems. Ten minutes later, I lay neck deep in the water of my soaker tub surrounded by candles, and the music of Diana Krall. I had a glass of red wine in my right hand. Yes, I keep a bottle in my room. It is a sanctuary after all.
My mind drifted. Who would want to kill Kumar? The women in his life loved him, even after he dumped them. He had that kind of man-charm that makes women salivate. Men gave him a wide berth, because he worked for the strongest vampire in the region. He had a Teflon surface.
I took a long swallow. If I kept thinking about the murder, I would never sleep. And thinking about Eric didn’t help. I slid my head under the water. I needed to get back to thinking about all the things I was grateful for.
I sat up, enjoying the rush of water running down my scalp. “I’m grateful for life. Every day, I’m grateful for my children.” As I named each one out loud their image floated through my mind, warming my heart.
“Good grief,” said Sparky who lay beside the tub. “Do I really have to listen to all of this out loud.”
Yes, this was the way to prepare for sleep. “I am grateful for ...”
“Me?” A low baritone voice broke my sentence.
I looked up. Dante the man-witch stood in the middle of my bathroom. I was naked. Crap.
“Thank the goddess,” said Sparky. “Dear Abby’s driving me crazy with her feel-good rituals. Liven things up.”
“Oh.” His molten-dark-chocolate eyes, the color of half-baked brownies, flowed over my upper body. “I could liven things up.”
I slid down hiding my breasts beneath the bubbles, and raised my hand for him to stop. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Enjoying the view.”
“Dante.”
“Have I ever told you, your breasts are luscious.”
Many times. My cheeks burned.
“And your nipples are deliciously taut.” His voice thickened.
Now that wasn’t fair. He had an effect on me that wasn’t at all unpleasant but was unwanted. Ever since he kissed me—which happened only once—he had a whopper effect on my libido. Man-oh-man the kiss of a man-witch is something you never forget, and my traitorous body remembered it too well. I crossed by arms across my chest. “What do you want?”
His black eyebrows rose. “Do you need to ask?”
Spark laughed that sultry laugh. “You walked into that one, Abby.”
I threw a bar of soap at her. “Look, Dante, we agreed that I do not need you in my life.”
His left brow wriggled.
“Seriously. I’m learning the ways of magic at my own pace with my book.” An ancient grimoire that had more magic in it than any one witch could devour in a lifetime. “And I do not need your help.” His help could be useful, of course, very useful, but I didn’t need a Casanova man-witch with too much charm for his own good to help me learn the witch ways. Especially one who kissed like Dante. Besides all of that witchy chemistry, Eric hated him. Go figure.
“Carina.” His chocolate-brown eyes melted with invitation.
“Why are you here?”
Spark rolled her eyes. Not a good look on a lynx.
“Tomorrow is the first day of the full moon, the snow moon to be exact.” His bad-boy smile spread across his perfectly sculpted face shaded by black stubble. Did I mention, he had to be one of the most handsome men I had ever met. Other than Eric, of course.
I firmed my lips. “Don’t tell me you expect me to dance in the moonlight.” I might have done it before, but I claim a) to have a hazy memory of it, on account of 2) the magic made me do it.
“Mia carina, you dance so beautifully.”
I threw a wet washcloth at him, but with a flick of his wrist he stilled it in midair.
“No way. Uh-uh. Not a chance. I will not dance naked with you in the moonlight again.”
His smile deepened on one side, creating a dimple. A dimple! My nether regions tightened.
“No.”
“When will you learn you cannot resist the pull of the moon? You could dance without me, of course, but what would be the fun in that? Our power is magnified by the moon and each other.” His voice turned raw as he added, “Each other.”
This was all too witchy true. I could never explain to Eric what the moon does to me. It heats my blood in an intoxicating way. Heck, I couldn’t explain it to myself. The full moon turns me into a nympho-zombie with rhythm who dances in the forest meadow. Naked. Can’t leave that part out. I had been a witch for four months now and had danced in my wobbly birthday suit on three full moons. What were the odds I could resist this time? Probably not in my favor.
“No,” I said. “Absolutely, positively no.”
“Mhm.” As he walked closer he grabbed the suspended wet washcloth from the air. “Would you like me to wash your back? Help you reach places that are hard to reach”
I groaned.
He looked around. “Where is the Viking, by the way?”
“No thank you to the body scrub, and I don’t know, and ...” I took a deep breath. “Won’t these moon urges lessen as I learn to control my power?”
He chuckled. The sound, rich like the darkest of chocolate, reverberated through me. “The urges of the moon will never leave you. I look forward to seeing your ripe body in the moonlight. Everything in the moonlight.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I have will power,” I said.
“Let’s see how that turns out,” said Spark with a chuckle.
Chapter 5
Sounds in the Night
“Of course it is happening inside your head … but why on earth should that mean it is not real?”
Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
I woke later that night. Light streamed through my curtains from the moon, which was almost full. The sky had cleared and the fresh scent of the trees after rain hung in the air. I stretched and looked at my cell phone. No messages.
I noticed lynx eyes staring at me. I sat up. “What? What is it?”
Sparky yawned. Drat the brat. She had woken me up with her feline stare. I probably wouldn’t get back to sleep again. And now she dared to stare. I threw a pillow at her.
“Meow,” she screeched and pounced on top of me.
If you’ve ever had a small lynx sit on you, you know how I felt. Thirty pounds of silky fur and whiskers with the strong scent of fish on her breath. “Ugh,” I responded.
“I thought you should
know.”
“Know what?” I wiggled out from beneath her and lay on my side propped up by an elbow.
“Someone is out there.”
“Can you be more ambiguous? The whole world is out there. Why can’t you let me sleep?”
“Because they mean you harm.”
“What? Oh, for heaven’s sake. I haven’t crossed anyone. Why would they want to hurt me?”
“Think about it, Blondie.”
Did I mention how much I hate being called Blondie? “I live a quiet single-mom life.” For the most part. “I don’t cause any trouble.” Except for the time I unleashed three vampiric beasts from Viking times on the town. “I’m nice to people.” As long as they are nice to me. “I even bought girl guide cookies last week.” And ate most of them before the kids got home.
“The murder, dimwit.”
“Oh that. Well I didn’t do it.” I pulled a hand through my hair. “Kumar was knifed. The séance didn’t kill him, a knife did. I did not kill him.”
“And after?” Sparky rolled her eyes.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“The locket.”
“Blondie, it brought the evil right to us.”
I was fully awake now. There’s nothing like knowing a murderer is stalking you and is currently outside your bedroom window to get the adrenaline flowing. “I suppose this is one way to find the bad guy.”
Spark lifted a paw and put it on my mouth. Damn, her nails were sharp. I listened to the night. Twigs broke along the pathway beside my house. Then all was silent. They could be climbing the stairs.
The air stilled. It felt thicker, in a witchy pre-horror kind of way.
I closed my eyes and envisioned my front door. The intruder had broken my wards on the property! Quietly I spoke the locking spell, focusing my energy on the lock on my front door.
I could feel the door resisting my spell, as if someone else was using their magic on it at the same time.
Shreddie, our chocolate lab, started barking. Spark covered her ears with her paws. I sensed whoever I struggled with over the door lock pulled away.
Quiet fell like a bomb. I tiptoed downstairs and gave the dog three cookies. His ears weren’t as sharp as Spark’s, and he had no magic in his blood, but his bark had saved the night. Maybe.
I crawled back into bed, hoping to get another couple hours of sleep. Sparky nuzzled up beside me.
She purred as I scratched her neck, a sound considerably wilder than a domesticated house cat. “Why did you choose to be a lynx?” I asked. Living with a house cat would be so much easier.
“I didn’t want to be a regular cat. It’s so overdone. Last century, you might say. A Salem throwback. I wanted something that fit my personality better.” This she said in a sultry whisper, which once again made me think of Mae West. “I like lynx fur.”
“And their nasty temperament?”
“That too.”
“It suits you,” I said and I meant it.
“You want to talk about the case?”
“Nah. Tomorrow we’ll figure it all out.”
Her body relaxed into a pile of soft fur within seconds, while I stayed awake trying to get a foothold on the mystery. This was my first whodunit. I had never solved a murder before. It wasn’t half as glamorous as it appeared in stories. So far, I had been horrified by the event and now scared witchless by the repercussions. Who was I to take on a murderer? A supernatural murderer.
Chapter 6
The Mountie
“Trust me. This world is filled with things we don’t understand.” Lafayette, True Blood
I woke up to the sound of fighting downstairs. The screaming, yelling and barking sounds kick-started my heart. I ran into the kitchen as fast as I could. Rice Crispies floated in the air like snow. Jonathan and Jinx were throwing cereal at each other and Jane sat on the floor giggling. I wanted to make a mad-momma entrance, but my foot hit a patch of jam on the floor and my ample butt landed on the tiles with a bang. The kids laughed. Spark chuckled in my head. And I gathered my senses.
“What on God’s green earth are you two doing?”
“He …”
“She …”
They spoke at once, drowning each other out. When one got louder the other got louder. Making sense of it could take hours. “Stop,” I said. “Just stop and sit.” Surely there could be order if they sat.
Four wide round eyes stared at me.
Jill came in from the hall. She had been in the bathroom. “What did I miss?”
“The third world war in Rice Crispies.”
“That bad?”
“That bad.”
I could ground them. Yell some more. Threaten toy banishment. I could do a lot of things, but I couldn’t keep the smile that tugged at my lips from spreading. “Okay, here’s the deal. The kitchen gets cleaned, totally cleaned, in fifteen minutes. Any food that hit the floor ends up in the garbage. If you clean the room well enough …” I hesitated, not knowing where I was going with this.
They leaned in.
“Then, you’ll apologize to one another.” For God knows what.
They leaned closer.
“Then, I’ll make pancakes.”
“Softy,” said Sparky in my head.
So, the fight ended, the mess was cleaned by the offenders and my bruised dignity sat down with a big mug of coffee. All’s well that ends well. Jill joined me and we talked over the day’s shopping list. Another normal morning at the manor.
The pancakes were delicious, and the sibling truce lasted until they were full.
Meanwhile, Zane sent me a text reminding me to visit him at the police station. After I dropped Jinx and Jonathon at school, Janey and I went to the police station.
The day was overcast and cool, but so far dry as Alfred the weatherman predicted. Being a recent transplant from the interior, I had trouble adjusting to the dampness of the rainforest climate I now lived in, but it was getting easier. At first, not seeing the sun for days drove me squirrely. Not a good look on a witch. But I had adapted to the challenges by reading more books inside and wearing rubber boots everywhere, knowing that when the sun did come out, the beauty of the west coast would once again take my breath away. And the smells! Oh, how I loved the smell of the earth and vegetation after a rainfall. I pulled on my best Wellies and headed out the door.
Zane welcomed me into his office and closed the door. He looked efficient as always in his crisply pressed RCMP uniform. I took the chair opposite him at his desk and Spark curled at my feet. Zane was used to the lynx and never asked me about her. Janey played on the floor with her bag of toys as we talked.
“What do you think happened last night?” he asked.
I had to hand it to him. He navigated the bumps in the night as if they were normal. But we both knew Sunset Cove would never be normal. Leaning back in his office chair with professional ease, he gave me a mischievous grin.
I shrugged. “This is what I know. Joy plans to start a séance business and wanted to practice.” We both knew that being Azalea’s niece meant she probably inherited supernatural skills, so I didn’t need to add that.
He nodded.
“She twisted my arm to attend the séance.” I left out the blackmail part. “And I think she also forced her boyfriend Elif, the vampire, and his day-butler, Kumar, to attend. I have no idea why Ophelia was there.”
“And Margaret Gallagher?”
“She came last. I was shocked to see her. I didn’t expect the client to be someone so ...”
“Normal?”
“Something like that. I figured it would be a grief-stricken widow. Anyway, I didn’t expect it to be Margaret and I don’t know her story. I only know she wanted to contact a spirit named Nelson.”
The good constable nodded again. Cops are good at the nod and silence.
Even though I was guilty of nothing, I squirmed in my seat, and I’m not a squirmer. “Joy did the regular mumbo-jumbo, calling the spirit of Nelson. A col
d breeze swept through the room, and the people whose hands I held let go. I heard a horrible gurgling sound and opened my eyes. Everything was completely dark.”
“That quick.”
“Yeah, the whole thing took less than five minutes. The lights came on. Elif stood beside the switch. Kumar had a knife in his jugular or pretty darn close to it. There was lots of blood.”
“Interesting. Elif turned on the lights.”
I nodded.
“You know vampires can see in the dark.”
I didn’t, but it figured. “I guess he did it for the rest of us. Did he see what happened?”
“I don’t know. I’ll talk with him tonight when he rises.”
Oh, of course. No one can interview a vampire during the day. Duh. Maybe my fall had rattled my brains. “Anyway. Everyone split, leaving me with the dead body. I phoned you and you came.”
He pushed a sheet of paper with typing on it towards me. I read it over. “You already knew what I was going to say.”
“Pretty much. You told me all this last night.”
“So why did you want to see me today?”
“The mind is a funny thing.” He leaned towards me and the smell of freshly cut cedar and spicy after-shave flavored the air in the nicest of ways. “When we witness something unsettling, we sometimes lose the memory of part, or all, of it, but over time it returns to us. I wanted to check on you and see if you remembered anything else.”
“Nope. The statement covers what I witnessed.”
“Hmm. What about the time between when everyone left and I arrived. What happened then?” His eyes narrowed, and I felt guiltier than original sin. Did he know? He couldn’t. He just suspected. It was his job to suspect. And he was good at it. I swallowed.
“Nothing. It was only a few minutes. I checked Kumar’s pulse and considered closing his eyes, but thought better of it. Then you arrived. That’s all I remember.”
Death by Séance Page 3