by Erin Johnson
“But I didn’t put it all together until that morning. I came over here to help move our baking stuff to the tent for the competition, and while you and Mom were getting ready up here, I had a poke around downstairs. I got bored and saw the note sticking out of your purse—the one from Mom.”
She shook her head. “And then it all made sense.” She let out a shrill laugh. “I mean—I connected the dots, but it frankly makes no sense that anyone would cheat on me with you.”
I shot Peter a wide-eyed look. This family was the definition of dysfunctional. Still, I felt a little badly for them all—they’d lost everything.
Elin shrugged and looked down, her shoulders slumped. She walked to the kitchen table, Tonya shrinking back, and then pulled out a chair and dropped into it. It was as though confessing her crimes had left her suddenly exhausted.
“I just snapped. I went into the kitchen and found the poison potion we use for killing roaches.”
I lifted a brow—remind me to never eat at this bakery. I bit my lip. And also, I should probably tell Gary to spread the word among his roach buddies that they should avoid this place, too.
Elin let out a heavy sigh. “I sprinkled some of it on Tonya’s lipstick—the same color I’d found on Lorenzo’s pillow. I figured it’d be fitting revenge for sleeping with my fiancé.”
I nodded. “And then you all went to the competition and stashed your purses in the cubby below the baking station. Your mother, Polly, took a sip of the tea at the competition, and wanting to look her best in front of the royalty in the audience, touched up her lipstick. Only, for some reason, she grabbed Tonya’s.” I shrugged. “Maybe her purse was the easiest and quickest to get to, or maybe she liked the color.”
Elin scoffed at that.
I raised a brow at her. “Polly got the fatal dose of poison that had been intended for Tonya.”
Elin shook her head, her gaze faraway. “I never wanted to hurt Mom. Never.” She growled at her sister, suddenly full of fire again. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be dead.”
Lorenzo shrank back, looking as though he’d like to run away and disappear. Just as he was eyeing the stairwell as though about to make a break for it, the third cop tromped up the stairs, carrying a half-empty glass bottle of green potion. It bubbled and fizzed. “I found this under the sink.”
I looked to Elin. “Is that what you used to poison the lipstick?”
She nodded, “Yes,” and Daisy whined. True.
As the officers bagged the evidence and bound Elin’s wrists in golden handcuffs, Peter moved to my side and put an arm around my shoulders.
“Well done.” He grinned at me. “I can see you must’ve been a fantastic lawyer.”
I winked up at him. “I did alright.”
He hugged me tighter to his side.
Daisy turned around and whined. I thought you said I could bite someone.
Just as two cops were carting Elin away, she glared at her fiancé. “In case it wasn’t obvious, we’re over!” The cops marched her downstairs, their footsteps growing fainter.
Lorenzo didn’t wait until they’d even left the building before he slid closer to Tonya. “So… now that I’m single, you wanna…?”
Tonya, head in hands, split her fingers to look at him. “You have got to be kidding me.”
35
The Plan
After we left the Pierre Bakery, Peter made a call up to the palace to let them know we were ready. With my heart in my throat, I walked, hand in hand, with Peter down another level to the docks and then found the entrance to the sewers. A huge grate covered the tunnel entrance, though rusted-out spots in the lattice allowed shifters to come and go at will.
Peter, Daisy, and I sat behind a stack of crates as we waited for Horace, Francis, and the prince and princess. Even though we’d just successfully solved a murder and I was flying high on adrenaline, I did my best to rein in my energy. The night’s work wasn’t over yet—not by a long shot. I needed to focus, but between the satisfaction of getting justice for Polly and my nerves at what I had to do next, I could barely sit still.
The sea lapped at the docks, and wooden planks creaked, loud in the silence between us. Peter held me tightly in the chilly night air as I nibbled at my thumb tip, and even Daisy seemed on edge.
She sat, alternately gazing at the sewer entrance, then at Peter and me. She tucked her pointy ears back and let out a quiet whine. I don’t like this. No one’s even guarding the entrance? Seems too easy.
I shrugged and whined back. There are never guards… but after what I pulled the other night, stealing the potions records—I’m a little surprised, too. I don’t like it any more than you do, Days, but… you got a better idea?
She huffed. Any of my ideas would be better than yours.
Peter looked between us. “What are you guys talking about?”
I shot him a flat look. “Oh, just our usual exchange of compliments and flattery.”
He smirked and hugged me tighter, and I laid my head against his shoulder. I raised a brow at Daisy. I’m still waiting to hear this amazing plan of yours.
She shifted from one front paw to the other and growled. I could just storm in there, bite that Ludolf man’s neck, and drag him out.
I nodded and woofed. You could, but he has some pretty ferocious bodyguards. One’s even a lion.
She cocked her head. What’s that?
I growled. A really big cat.
She sniffed and looked off. Ooh. I’m so scared. I eat cats all day long.
I raised my brows at her and woofed. Oh, really? Do you, now? Because I thought your diet consisted mainly of kibble, croissants, and bits of my donuts you steal whenever you think I’m not looking.
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, and she flattened her ears. I don’t know what you’re talking about. “Woof!” She startled herself with a bark. Lie!
I bit back a laugh as she dropped her head and flattened her ears. She growled. Oh, shut it.
Footsteps thudded across the wooden planks, and Peter, Daisy, and I peeked up over the crates. Three dark figures walked toward us—and a fourth hovered a head above the others, floating. That had to be Francis the vampire.
Peter drew his wand and held it at the ready, just in case, as we stood and waved them over. The wispy clouds overhead parted, and the moonlight confirmed that it was Prince Harry, Princess Imogen, the slightly terrifying Horace, and thin, pale Francis. The princess waved back, her lantern in her other hand, and soon they joined us.
Prince Harry opened his wool peacoat and withdrew a vial of purple, bubbling liquid stoppered with a cork. “Evening.” He gave me a tight-lipped smile, then nodded at Peter and Daisy. The princess partially unshuttered the lantern, and Iggy, her magical flame, peeked out. She crouched down and scratched Daisy under her chin.
Prince Harry handed me the vial, and I held it in my palm. It cast a faint glow that lit everyone’s faces as they gathered around it.
The prince pointed. “The royal healers brewed this based on the files we stole from Ludolf.”
Peter’s hand tightened around my free one. “And they’re sure it’ll work?”
The princess winced and shrugged. “Well, they didn’t want to test it on any of the shifters.”
The prince nodded. “A few volunteered, but many are so weak and have spent so long trapped in their second forms that the healers didn’t want to risk any unintended consequences.”
I nodded. “Makes sense.” Still, my stomach twisted with nerves. This was an untested potion, and we were betting my life—as well as the chance for bringing Ludolf to justice—on it.
Peter’s grip tightened so much around my hand that I had to nudge him to get him to relax a bit. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Maybe we should put this off until we can be sure about the potion.”
Horace stepped forward, the purple glow illuminating his sharp cheekbones and sunken, deep-set eyes. “Would it matter? We won’t be sure it’ll work on our old friend Ludolf until
we try.” He leveled his half-lidded gaze on Peter, a mix of power and turbulence radiating off him despite his almost lazy demeanor.
Prince Harry nodded. “It’s true. The healers said every shifter reacts differently to any given potion.” He pressed his lips together and gave Peter a quick nod. “But rest assured, this is our best hope, and we’ll do all we can to protect Jolene.”
Peter nodded but didn’t look any more reassured. He kept a tight grip around my hand, his arm stiff and jaw set.
Francis drifted closer and looked down his hooked nose at me. “You’re sure no one knows of Ludolf’s second form?” He narrowed his dark, lined eyes and sniffed. “You smell of fear. You realize our lives depend on this part of the plan? As powerful as we all are, we stand no chance against an entire army of shifters.”
“Oh!” Iggy peeked out of the lantern, eyes narrowed. “A real vote of confidence from the vampire. By all means, charge right ahead with this plan.”
The princess shot him a look. “I said you could only come if you were going to be helpful.”
Iggy crossed his little flaming arms. “So it’d be more helpful if I was all for this suicide mission of yours?” He widened his eyes. “Then by all means, waltz right into the shifter lair armed only with a vial of untested potion. No way this plan could fail.”
Peter stiffened next to me. Great—at this rate, he’d probably handcuff me to him and refuse to let me go.
Horace, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black jeans, shrugged. “We wouldn't need to fight off all the shifters. We could change form, blend in with the other animals, and escape.”
Peter let out a choked sound and gripped my hand tighter. “Not Jolene—she’s lost her powers, remember?”
The prince squared his shoulders. “We won’t abandon you, Jolene.” He looked between Peter and me, his expression grave. “I give you my word.”
Horace raised his brows. “No promises here.”
The princess shot him an exasperated look.
Iggy spoke up from the lantern in her hand, peeking through the shutters. “Jolene hasn’t lost all her powers—it’s not like she’s totally defenseless.”
I nodded. “Thanks.” It was nice to have some support.
The little flame huffed, embers floating from his mouth. “Yeah, I mean, she could talk to the horde of shifter animals descending upon you all if things went south, right? Like, ‘Hey, tiger man, please don’t eat our faces off!’”
Princess Imogen shook her head at him. “So helpful.”
Peter sucked in a breath, as if he was about to put the flame in his place, but I leaned close and whispered, “He’s kidding.”
My boyfriend turned his pale face to me, lips pressed tight together, and gave a slight nod. I nodded back and forced a tight smile. “It’ll be okay.”
Daisy growled. Lie.
What little color Peter had drained from his face.
I flashed my eyes at her, then turned to face Peter. “Okay, I don’t know for certain it will, and I’m pretty scared, too.” I shot Daisy a flat look. “How about that?”
She wagged her tail and whined. True.
“But I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think we had a good chance of it working. I’ve got some powerful folks on my side.” Though one of them might be a bloodthirsty ancient being who could smell my body odor from a mile away, and another was a wanted criminal in every kingdom.
I turned to said wanted criminal. “Horace—did you know Ludolf shifted into a heron?”
He shook his head. “No.” A wry smile tugged at the corner of his full lips. “And I know everything.”
Iggy scoffed. “And they say evil geniuses aren’t humble.”
I looked back up at Peter’s drawn face. “See? This is our best chance.” I stepped closer. “Now wish me luck. The sooner we get going, the sooner we get this over with.”
“I don’t like this.” His eyes brimmed with tears. “But I know it’s our best shot, and I believe in you. Good luck, Jolene.” He leaned his forehead against mine and whispered, “I love you.”
Daisy’s tail wagged. True.
My own eyes stung with tears. “I love you, too.” Man, I hoped this wasn’t the last time I got to say that to him. Ever since I’d been cursed and lost my fiancé, my career, all my money—I’d been in survival mode. Now that my life was filling up again, with love, excitement, purpose, and friends, I stood to lose it all. And I wasn’t going to let that happen—not again, and certainly not because of Ludolf Caterwaul.
I rose on my toes and kissed Peter, full and deep, while Iggy let out a wolf whistle. After I reluctantly pulled away and sank back down onto my heels, a pink flush rose to Peter’s cheeks.
I grinned. “Good to see you have some color back.” Before Daisy could react, I reached down and scratched her head. I’d expected her to pull away, but she let me pet her and even looked up and gave me the tiniest lick on my hand. She whined. Good luck. You’re kind of a disaster—you need it.
I grinned at her and woofed. Thanks, you mangy mutt.
I sucked in a breath, tightened my hand around the vial of potion, and nodded at the others. “Alright—let’s do this.”
36
Ludolf Caterwaul
No one spoke as we trudged through the sewers. The only sounds were our splashing feet, the chirping rats scurrying along the edges, and the drip of water echoing through the round tunnels. Francis winged overhead in bat form, and the prince, princess, and Horace took on the forms of Neo, Sacha, and Viktor. I clutched the vial of potion tightly in my hand, looking down at it every few minutes, as if it might spontaneously disappear.
My nerves made my steps stiff and jerky, and I held my shoulders tight, jaw clenched. As much as I reminded myself to breathe, I didn’t think I would again until this was all over. Every flicker of a torch, every echo of sound, and I was convinced someone had been alerted to our presence and Ludolf’s army of guards was about to descend on us.
But despite my fears, we made it through to the older part of the sewers where the bricks crumbled and the tunnels grew narrower, the ceiling so low that Horace, in Sacha’s enormous form, had to duck his bald head. When the reddish glow that always shone from the potion lair bounced off the walls ahead, my legs nearly buckled. We’d arrived.
The prince, in Neo’s form, took the lead position, while wiry Imogen/Viktor and brutish Horace/Sacha closed in tight on either side of me. We walked silently on, then ducked through the crumbling entrance into the round potions room. Glass bottles and decanters lined the stone shelves of the round room, a cauldron bubbled as always over the fire in the walk-in hearth, and the three ancient witches hunched over their work at the tall, cluttered tables.
They glanced up as one when we entered and hissed like cats.
I gulped. Oh, goodie. Already going well.
From the shadows by the file-filled cabinet we’d raided, Ludolf himself rose from a stool, unfolding his long, thin legs. The fire cast his shadow, long and skeletal and flickering against the wall, looming over us. Even from all the way across the room, I could see his eyes bulging with rage, his thin lips pulled back from his small, sharp teeth.
He ducked his head, bony shoulders up around his ears, and slowly stalked toward us. “Jolene.” His face twitched with barely concealed fury. “How nice of you to come back after borrowing my property.”
He swept a long, thin hand at the cabinet full of papers and files. “One of my soldiers spotted you entering the tunnels and alerted me. I’m so pleased they weren’t mistaken.”
I spun, as if to run, but the princess/Viktor and Sacha/Horace caught me by the arms and held me. I put on an act of struggling, but they spun me around to face the mob boss of the shifters.
“Coward,” he spat.
I curled my lip back. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you. You sold out your own people for money and power.” I glared at him. “The little lap dog of King Roch—never good enough to have any actual power or status.”
<
br /> He paused briefly, then stalked toward me, his skin red and blotchy. Princess Imogen/Viktor cackled and twitched—a toned-down version of her first performance. I’d given her a few tips, and she was doing a better job of imitating him this time—though it was hard to imagine her behind that tattooed, gaunt facade. I rolled the vial in my right hand, concealed behind Sacha/Horace’s beefy forearm, and ran my thumb over the cork stopper—ready to pop it off.
Francis, in bat form, squeaked and swooped overhead. I shot him a perplexed look, but then focused on the mob boss who approached me.
I bared my teeth at Ludolf as he stalked closer, only about ten feet away now. “You can do your worst to me, but powerful people know what you’ve done, now. You’re over with.” I waited—willing him just a little closer.
Francis, as a bat, dove closer to my head.
“You idiot meddler.” Ludolf shivered with anger, muscles in his sharp jaw twitching. “You stupid, stupid girl. You’ve sealed your fate. As if I didn’t have a backup plan. As if I don’t have friends in high places to bail me out. As if I couldn’t leave this island a rich man and disappear to live my days out in luxury!”
His deadly calm dropped as he shrieked at me and stalked closer, eyes bulging, face apoplectic. “You’re the only one who's over! You’ll pay for your—”
Ludolf froze, some of the color draining from his face. He pulled back, brows pinched in confusion. “What is this?”
I frowned at him, then glanced at the prince/Neo. He looked behind us, eyes wide, mouth slack with fear. I turned, and ice flooded over me. The real Neo, Sacha, and Viktor stood in the tunnel behind us, mouths agape, eyes wide. We all stood, as if paralyzed, for what felt like several long moments.
Horace/fake Sacha nudged me and growled. “Do it—now.”
He released my arm, as did the princess/Imogen. I uncorked the vial with my thumb and stalked the last few feet up to Ludolf as he growled at the real Neo, “Get them!”