by Janni Nell
Gently I brushed away the cobwebs from her coffin, flicking a spider off my hand in the process. After checking there were no nails securing the lid, I put my flashlight on the ground, gripped the lid and hefted it open.
I tuned in to my big toe, waiting elltale itch. When it didn’t come, I scooped up my flashlight and shone it into the coffin. The skeletal remains of Elowyn Penrose Hampton grinned up at me.
Her bones looked in pretty good condition, considering she’d died hundreds of years ago. Maybe Mr. Hampton’d had them restored along with her coffin. Or maybe there’s just something special about the bones of witches. Whatever. But she looked kind of sad lying all alone, the remains of a thin gold chain and a heart-shaped pendant around the vertebrae of her neck. My heart went out to this woman who had died before her time fighting to protect her children from Demelza’s vengeance. But her fight wasn’t over yet. She was going to be rudely yanked from her afterlife party and brought back to tackle Demelza once again. I didn’t imagine she’d be happy about it.
“Sorry Elowyn,” I said, leaning into the coffin and reaching for her left hand. As I moved her finger bones, her wedding ring fell off, clunking against the wood. Leaving it where it lay, I took hold of her left little finger bone. The end was bent with witches’ RSI, just as it had been in her portrait. Figuring this would make the finger more magical than the rest of her, I gripped it hard, jerking it sideways. The bone broke with a loud snap and came away from her body. I tucked it safely in my pocket. It was five minutes after midnight. No matter what happened now, no matter what time I returned to Mac’s, at least I’d detached the bone from her skeleton at the correct time.
After retrieving her wedding ring from the floor of the coffin, I took out the singed purple feather Mac had asked me to leave with her. Tucking the feather into her wedding band, I replaced it on her finger. Nice. Good job. As I reached up to close the heavy lid, I got dizzy. Maybe I was coming down with something. I felt my forehead. Not too hot. Not too cold. I reached for the lid again. A wave of dizziness hit me so savagely, I lost my balance, lurched forward and fell into the open coffin. The lid slammed shut, drowning me in darkness.
Acting on instinct, I wriggled on to my back, trying not to disturb Elowyn’s bones too much. I put my palms on the inside of the coffin lid and pushed hard. It didn’t budge. I tried again, this time bringing my knees up and shoving with them too. The lid held fast, almost as though it was nailed shut. My toe itched like crazy. Two possibilities: (a), Elowyn was pissed off because I’d taken the bone, or (b), Demelza was pissed off because I’d taken the bone. I selected option (b), not that it helped me escape from the coffin, which was sealed as effectively as if it had been nailed down. I was trapped like a—well, like a paranormal investigator in a coffin. Not a good look for someone in my profession.
After removing Elowyn’s right index finger bone from my nostril, I tried to disentangle myself from her skeletal embrace. Each time I moved, her bones gave a sinister rattle and reconfigured themselves around me. The coffin was colder than a date with the abominable snowman.
I started to shiver. If it’s one thing I hate, it’s being cold. As I huddled deeper into my jacket, someone turned the heating on. Well actually it felt more like a warm body than heating. My first thought was that Elowyn had magically become flesh again, but soon I realized the warm body was male. And a pretty fine male body at that. The coffin was kind of crowded with three of us but the warmth and the fresh scent of Heaven cologne were definitely welcome.
Unable to see who belonged to the warm body, I took a wild guess. “Casper?”iv v height="0%">
“In the flesh.”
“Nice,” I murmured.
He gave an embarrassed cough. “I’m here to get you out.”
As though there could be another reason—like flirting. Or having a quick cuddle.
The coffin had been made for someone shorter than me and considerably shorter than Casper, which meant our knees were bent and kind of entangled. One of Casper’s thighs had somehow insinuated itself between mine. The muscles were as strong and hard as you’d expect from a seasoned warrior. Then I felt a hand on my ass.
“Is that your hand, Casper?”
“My hand where?” he asked innocently.
“On my ass.”
Casper said, “Let me check.”
“You don’t know whether it’s your hand or not?” I asked incredulously. But he was already sliding his arm over my waist and reaching around to my ass. A few seconds, or maybe it was minutes, of fumbling later the hand was removed.
“Was it your hand?” I asked.
“I’m afraid it belonged to Elowyn.”
Funny, it hadn’t felt skeletal. And how had the long-dead Elowyn managed to give my ass an affectionate squeeze?
“Can I ask you something, Casper?”
“It wasn’t my hand.”
“That’s not the question. Why did you get in the coffin with me? Wouldn’t it have been easier just to open the lid?”
A second’s hesitation before he answered, “Not necessarily.”
“Go on, admit it, you wanted to cop a feel.”
“Angels do not cop feels.”
Hmm.
“The truth is,” he went on, “I couldn’t lift the lid. I thought you might be able to help.”
“If I could’ve lifted it, I’d be out by now.”
“We could try opening it together,” he suggested. “Our combined strength might work.”
“It might if we weren’t in such a confined space.”
“Have you got a better idea?”
“Yeah, use your guardian angel powers to raise the lid.”
“They don’t seem to be working. Demelza must have cast a locking spell.”
It made sense. I hadn’t fallen into the coffin through clumsiness. Or illness. I’d been shoved. Or at least my balance had been affected by some external force.
“Okay let’s push,” I said.
We wriggled around maneuvering into the best position to kick that pesky lid into orbit. The confined space and darkness hindered our movements, but working our way around by touch had unforeseen benefits. This time the hand on my ass was definitely not Elowyn’s and even Casper couldn’t deny it.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
Two can play at that game. “Gosh, Casper, did I touch your—oh, sorry, sorry.” Yeah I was about as sorry as if I’d won a couple of million in the Lotto. In fact “accidentally” grabbing Casper’s bits could be the highlight of my year.
“Okay, I think we’re in position,” he said.
We were lying half on top of one another, our knees and hands pressed against the coffin lid. Not quite the position I’d always wanted to be in with Casper, but never mind. Getting out of the coffin was our top priority.
“On the count of three,” said Casper, “push upward with all your strength. One…two…three.” We pushed. Strained. Grunted. Pushed again.
The lid refused to move.
“This isn’t good,” he said.
“Ya think?” I grumbled. “Anyway, it’s okay for you. All you have to do to get out is disappear and reappear in the crypt. Easy. I could be stuck here until I end up like Elowyn.”
I was anxious but not truly frightened. I honestly believed Casper would figure out a means of escape. Of course, according to what he’d told me in Scotland, he hadn’t been able to save his previous morsub from the hail of bullets that killed her, but this was different. Or so I told myself.
Casper said, “I might need some help with this. I’ll be back soon.”
“You’re leaving me?”
“Temporarily.”
“Supposing I don’t get out? If I die I’ll—”
“Sshh.” He tried to put a finger to my lips but in the darkness it landed on my ear. He reached for my hand, connected with my belly, and finally wrapped his strong fingers around mine.
“I’ll get you out of here, I promise.” The darkness heightened my other sen
ses and my sense of touch worked overtime as he pressed his lips to my hand. Not the back, but the more sensitive palm. It was a whisper of a touch. Something the Powers-That-Be would miss if they blinked.
Then I was alone. With Elowyn’s skeleton. I wasn’t scared. A little anxious maybe, but afraid? Nope. I knew I’d get out of the coffin somehow.
Despite the number of times Casper had rescued me in the past, I wasn’t the kind of girl to sit around waiting for my guardian angel. I pushed and shoved on that coffin lid until I was drenched in sweat and panting but the darn thing wouldn’t move.
Elowyn’s pelvic bone dug into my side as if she was trying to tell me something. As if. My imagination was working overtime. Okay, she had been a witch, but that was a long time ago. And according to Casper, Elowyn had accumulated more than enough credit points to enter Heaven. She wasn’t hanging around waiting for her chance to help me.
oved Elowyn’s pelvic bone so it was no longer sticking into me. Lily had told me your pelvic bones change after you give birth. Elowyn had given birth to four children. She might have had more if she hadn’t died so young. I hoped Lily didn’t die young. She might be struggling through labor this minute, alone and frightened, Demelza watching her from the shadows, waiting to snatch the child and destroy the newest Hampton.
I hammered on the coffin lid. I had to get out. Now. Now. Now. I kicked and punched and scratched. The fricking thing wouldn’t budge.
I sank against Elowyn’s bones. Exhausted. Inches from accepting defeat.
Something tickled my neck. Probably a spider. I brushed it off. Back it came. Tickling again. What the—? This time I didn’t brush it away. Instead I felt the full length of the purple raven’s feather, which was exactly where I’d put it in the wedding band on Elowyn’s finger. There was no time to wonder how Elowyn’s skeletal hand had moved to my neck. All I cared about was that there might be a bit of magic left in the clance. Working on instinct, I ran it along the lid and then pushed upwards with all my strength. The lid creaked softly, shuddered and began to open.
The light in the crypt was minimal so I didn’t need to shield my eyes after the darkness of the coffin. The first thing I saw was Casper. I took in the big, broad expanse of him.
“Did you open the lid? Or did I do it with this?” I held up the feather.
He winked. “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” he said, and offered to help me out of the coffin. Grabbing hold of his hand I hauled myself over the side and jumped down onto the crypt floor.
After replacing the feather in Elowyn’s hand, I closed her coffin and dashed back to Mac’s with the finger-bone.
Chapter Seventeen
“Oh wow, you actually got it,” said Wanda, staring at the bone. She wore pajamas—fluffy white rabbits jumping around on a blue background. Her blond curls were tousled as if she’d just gotten out of bed, which she had. It was three in the morning. Okay I could’ve waited until the sun was up to bring them the bone, but since I was awake I figured they might as well be too.
Unlike Wanda, Mac’s hair fell perfectly straight and neat. Maybe she’d used a tidy hair spell or something. Her silky nightie was covered by an equally silky black robe with a red Chinese dragon embroidered on the back. Orlando was nowhere in sight. Probably still asleep although I did a quick check of my jeans legs just to make sure he wasn’t up to his usual tricks.
Mac examined the little finger bone with its crooked RSI tip. “Good choice,” she murmured, putting it into a stone mortar, where someone, probably Wanda, would have the onerous task of grinding it to powder. “Was obtaining the bone very difficult?”
“Piece of cake.” No need to mention getting locked in the coffin or Casper’s appearance. I didn’t fancy answering any awkward questions. Mac looked as though she was going to ask them anyway so I said quickly, “Now for the Hampton blood. How much do you need?”
“At least a pint. Preferably more.”
“A pint?” Actually I’d been thinking more along the lines of one of those little tubes they fill for blood tests. Persuading a Hampton to give up a pint plus was going to be a little more difficult.
Mac produced a bottle—a very large bottle with a screw cap. “It would be great if you could fill this.” When I took it and headed for the door, she said, “You look tired. Stay here. Sleep. I’ll wake you in the morning.”
I wasn’t too keen on sleeping over. Not with Orlando in the cottage. But I was exhausted. Anyway, I couldn’t get blood from either Steven or SJ in the middle of the night. I had to wait until normal visiting hours when there were lots of people around and no one would notice me and my big bottle.
I curled up on the sofa beneath a quilt embroidered with what at first appeared to be snail shells but on closer inspection turned out to be kiricans. It smelt strongly of lavender. Soothing. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered which of the Hamptons would be most willing to part with a pint or so of blood. Steven had already lost a lot of blood after biting that vein in his wrist, so it would have to be SJ. He was out of ICU, and if he couldn’t handle the blood loss, well, at least he was in the right place for a transfusion. Not a great option, but the best I had.
I dreamed about rivers of blood and a chorus line of skeletons dancing on their coffins. Why couldn’t I have dreamed of being up close and personal with Casper? Stupid dreams.
In the morning I awoke to the smell of frying bacon. I followed it to the kitchen where Mac served a breakfast of eggs, thick toast and the bacon. Wanda and I dug in.
Mac settled for herbal tea and half a piece of toast.
After breakfast I set out for SJ’s hospital. Getting blood from him would’ve been so much easier if he’d been asleep. Or, better yet, unconscious. But he was wide awake, so I had to make conversation as well as get the blood. I didn’t know which was worse.
“How’s Lily?” he asked when I entered his room. Despite the bandage on his head and the casts on both legs he didn’t look too bad. His cheeks were almost rosy, but a frown lurked between his blond eyebrows. “I haven’t seen her in a while. Has something happened? Has she had the baby?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Don’t you know? I thought you were staying at our house.”
“Well she—um—” How do you tell a man his heavily pregnant wife has been kidnapped by someone who’s intent on wiping out his whole family? I’d rather have faced an army of banshees. “You know, she had high blood pressure and was prescribed bed rest,” I began, using the truth before I finished off with a lie. “That’s where she is. In bed. At home.”
His soft blue eyes turned to steel. “Cut the crap. She’s not answering her cell. I want the truth and you’d better give it to me. I’ll know if you’re lying.”
Silly me, thinking I could lie to a lawyer and get away with it.
“You sure you can handle the truth?” When he gave a brisk nod, I aimed my words right between his eyes. “She’s been kidnapped by the malhag.”
He launched himself upright and grabbed my arm. Before I could shake him off, he groaned, clutched his bandaged head and sank back onto the pillow. He was paler than his sheets, but he deserved an A for effort because he gritted his teeth and tried again. Sweat dribbled down his cheeks but he didn’t give up. Soon he had swung his feet off the bed.
I jumped forward to stop him going any farther. “Don’t want to rain on your parade or anything, but you do realize your legs are broken?”
He looked down at the casts as though he’d momentarily forgotten. “Shit. I’m no use,” he said bitterly as I eased him back into bed. His head sank onto the pillow. “I’m too weak to save Lily and our baby.”
“Supposing there was something you could do,” I began. “Would you do it? No matter what it was?”
His eyes narrowed. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
“Feel like donating some blood?” I asked, keeping my very big bottle hidden until he said yes.
“For fuck’s sake, this is no time for jokes.”
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“I’m serious.”
He stared at me as if I’d suddenly grown fangs. “That’s crazy. How will my blood help?”
“It’s for a magic potion. All you—”
He cut me off. “I don’t believe in magic potions.”
“Newsflash, SJ—Lily is in this predicament because you have an ancestor who’s a witch. An ancestor who’s over three hundred years old. It’s probably time to start believing.”
That silenced him. I could almost see the semi-conductors of his slick lawyer’s brain trying to make sense of it. He grimaced as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. “How will this magic potion save Lily?”
“Well, it works like this. My friends, a couple of witches, are going to bring Elowyn Hampton back from the afterlife, and—”
He held up a hand to stop me. “On second thought, I don’t need to know. Are you sure this will work?”
“I hope so. It’s all we’ve got.”
He covered his face with his hands. “I can’t lose Lily. She means everything to me. We were going to be a family, and now…”
“Hey I’d love to bring on the violins but we’re wasting time. I really need your blood. Now.”
He manned up. “Take it,” he said, offering his arm.
Obviously I’m not a trained nurse. I didn’t have a tourniquet or a sterile syringe. I had an empty bottle and a funnel.
When SJ looked at my equipment in disbelief, I said, “This’ll work. Trust me. Okay if I remove your drip?”
He gritted his teeth. “Just get on with it.”
Removing the drip wasn’t all that difficult, but the blood didn’t exactly pour out of the small wound. From somewhere down the hall came the clatter of the lunch cart. If I didn’t get this done quickly I’d be caught. Red handed. I got out the little penknife I’d stuck in my handbag in case of emergencies.
SJ’s eyes widened. “What’re you doing with that?”