Maudlin's Mayhem (Bewitching Bedlam Book 2)

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Maudlin's Mayhem (Bewitching Bedlam Book 2) Page 9

by Yasmine Galenorn


  Her eyes narrowed, but she pasted a smile on her lips. “Why, yes, thank you for contacting her. I was going to talk to her after I talked to the FBI, but that saved me the call.”

  “You do know that I’m the High Priestess of the Moonrise Coven, right? So I need access to my funds.” The two really had nothing to do with one another but it didn’t hurt to let her know that I really didn’t appreciate being shunted around and that I had more pull than she wanted to know about.

  She cleared her throat. “The sheriff made that clear, yes. And I’m happy to tell you that we’ve made your funds available again. Because your account was compromised, however, we created a new account for you. I hope that’s acceptable. We called Mrs. Periwinkle about the check and she apologized. She wired the money.” She sorted through her desk and handed me a packet of information. “You’ll have new debit cards within five days.”

  “Good.” I took the sheaf of papers. “And you might add this check to the account, please?” I scribbled my signature on the back of Aegis’s check and handed it to her.

  She glanced at the amount, then stared at me for a moment. “Aegis is one of our biggest account holders.” It was a question without being poised as a question.

  “Yes, and he’s also my boyfriend.”

  That put things into motion. She swung out from behind her desk. “I’ll be right back with your receipt.”

  Well, one problem solved, thanks to Delia. I contemplated cashing out my account and going to another bank, but truth was, they were all about the same. Sticklers for rules and regulations, and the customer always seemed to be the last in line for services. By the time she came back and handed me the receipt, I was ready to go.

  “I want to be informed if you figure out just who wormed their way into my account. Thank you, Ms. Chambers. You know where to reach me.” I didn’t wait for her reply but strode out of her office and out of the bank.

  I WAS AT loose ends as I returned to my car. Sandy was busy. Aegis was asleep. We didn’t have any guests to attend to. Bubba was in stasis. As I reached for the door handle, I glanced up at the sky. No rain today, but it was overcast and cool—forty-five degrees. I thought about taking a walk, or going out to the beach, and finally decided on the latter. I could use a dose of water energy. I ran fire, and occasionally when the blaze grew too bright, there was nothing like a trip to the beach to calm me down. Now, feeling as melancholy as I was, it seemed like the perfect place to sit and think and try to figure out what the hell was happening.

  I drove across the island to the Enchanted Sands park—a county park that was open dawn till dusk with a few camping spaces for those who reserved them in advance, and once again found my thoughts returning to Bubba. As I had told the doctor, he had been with me since 1687. I had saved him from a fire, and it was because of my own fire that I had been able to carry him to safety. He had been so young, and so frightened.

  As I pulled into the parking lot and turned off the ignition, I closed my eyes, returning to that time when Bubba and I had first found one another, and saved each other’s lives.

  I HAD BEEN on my way to visit one of the Aunties. There was one living in a small village near our home, and while my mother hated her and warned me never to go near her, I had secretly formed a friendship with the crone, sneaking over to visit as often as I could.

  The week had been rough. I was staying at home again for a while, in between runs with Tom, Sandy, and Fata, and it wore on my nerves. My mother was berating my father, again, and I had lost my temper with her, again. It was after he had been attacked by wild dogs, before he had managed to get a job with the Society Magicka.

  Zara, my mother, had been particularly cruel, calling him a loser and telling him she wished he had died during the attack so she could at least remarry. I couldn’t take it any longer.

  “You bitch. Leave him alone. He was out hunting to fill your belly, and you gave no thought to the fact that he almost lost his life for you and for us. So help me, I hope to hell you hurt yourself so bad that one day you’re the one who’s disabled and can’t take care of yourself. Then see just how welcome you’ll be.” I smacked her across the face, hard, and ran out as she began screaming at me.

  I decided to go see old Auntie Berma, who lived deep in the woodland, to ask if she could help us. Auntie Berma had a reputation for loving children and hating adults, and all the kids in the area knew they could go to her when things were bad at home and she’d be there to listen and—if she could—help out. I was now an adult, but she had watched me grow up and we had a gentle friendship that transcended age.

  I ran barefoot through the tall grass, moist with dew, darting between the raindrops that threatened to come. We were in a glen protected by magic so the witch hunters couldn’t find us, though now I was pretty good at sensing them. As I took a shortcut through the Singing Grove, a Faerie Barrow in a tall circle of stones that continually hummed with a resonating pulse, I paused. The smell of smoke filled the air. Curious, I began to follow the scent, traipsing through the woods till I came to a clearing.

  I was on the outskirts of Joseph Stanton’s farm. He was a mandrake farmer, and all the witches came from far and wide to buy their roots from him. He also sold eggs and pork, bacon and milk. Joseph’s wife was the local herb woman, and taught wortcunning to all the young witches, and her laugh made everybody around laugh with her.

  But something was wrong. The smell of wood smoke was too strong for the early evening, and I could hear the crackle of flames. I darted along the side of the house—it looked empty, and I remembered they had decided to take a caravan around the countryside selling herbs and eggs and vegetables. As I passed the house, I saw the barn was blazing. The thatched roof had caught fire and it was raging out of control.

  I started to run back to the village, so that I could find someone skilled in water witchery to put out the blaze, when I heard it. A faint cry, almost like that of a cat. I paused, listening, and then heard it again. But in that mew, I heard fear and a cry for help.

  I raced over to the barn and tugged open the door. The flames were licking at the walls, and the roof had already fallen in several places. The cries were coming from the nearest corner to the door, but a wall of flames stood between me and them. I caught my breath, wondering if I could do it. My element was fire, and I was considered quite powerful for my age. I had never been able to fully merge with the flames, even though I could summon them.

  As I squinted through the smoke, I saw a sparkle from the corner—it was a kitten, small and ginger, with long hair, and he was crying frantically. The flames were making their way toward him. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and reached into the fire, whispering to it, feeling its vibrant hunger against my heart. The flames were eager, gobbling the wood, burning brighter as they went. I focused on their need, and then whispered the spell I had seen my mentor practicing.

  Flames burn brightly, flame and spark,

  But your wall must break and part.

  Move aside, form a door,

  Flame and fire, I implore.

  As I opened my eyes, I was startled to see them obey. The flames parted, forming a door. I knew I had to move fast, so I dashed through the break in the wall and grabbed the kitten. Then, before the flames could cascade back together, I raced back through and out of the barn. The next moment, the entire ceiling collapsed and the barn was engulfed in the frenzy of the fire.

  I held up the kitten. He looked at me, and with a gentle tap, touched my face. I knew that I had found a dear friend. In my heart, I knew we were meant to be together. Carrying him close to me, I headed toward Auntie Berma’s, knowing she would be able to help me with him.

  SHAKING OUT OF my memories, I slid out of the car and walked across the beach to a log by the shore. As I settled down, I thought about how long ago it had been that I first found Bubba. I wasn’t ready to let go of him. Not at all.

  Chapter 8

  AS THE WAVES crashed
in, I stared at the water, resting my arms on my knees. I thought back to the discussion of the night before. Now that we knew Bubba was under a hex, I needed to find out who did it and why.

  There were any number of ways to curse somebody. Most witches were cautious about dabbling with darker magic because it could backfire so easily. I had never really feared putting whammies on people because I reserved them for when the situation was dire and the person in question really deserved it. But then, again, I was strong with my magic, and I had learned long ago that sometimes, you had to stand up for yourself.

  The scent of seaweed and brine swept over me. To the east, I could see the coast of upper Western Washington. To the west, I could see a faint glimpse of Saturna Island. Bedlam was north of Orcas Island, exposed to the winds that swept down from the north, out of the Strait of Georgia and the Salish Sea. The Pacific Ocean fueled this area, sweeping in from the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The waters were cold, even in summer, and deep and dark.

  When I had moved away from Seattle, I had left the city behind and with it, my ex. But now, I wondered—had he finally figured out how to have his revenge on me? Was Craig behind the hexes?

  He was human, and he was one of the bad ones. Our relationship had started out great, but then again, sociopaths are often charming. By the time I left, I felt like a shadow of myself, and I was embarrassed by how I had let him beat me down. But it happened. It happened to a lot of women, even strong ones, when they let down their guard. I knew one thing for sure: I’d never let it happen again.

  I stared at my phone, debating. If I called him and asked him point-blank, of course he’d deny it. I needed to see him face to face to know if he was lying. And that was a trip I wasn’t sure I was prepared to make, yet.

  I ran through my list of everybody who could want to hurt me, and it was a long one. From my vampire hunting days to now, I had acquired a number of enemies—on all sides of the fence. Finally, I decided there was nothing else to do but carry on with business as usual, as much as I could, while I tried to figure out who was out to get me.

  As I stood and stretched, a wave came crashing in near my feet. I stared at the sea foam for a moment, then turned and crossed the beach back to my car. Even if I did have to cancel guests this week, there were still a gazillion chores on my list. I might as well get busy.

  I WAS HALFWAY through grocery shopping when I came to a stack of canned diced tomatoes. Aegis had asked for three cans so he could make a spaghetti sauce. As I reached for the top can, someone pushing their cart down the aisle bumped into me and, instinctively, I jerked to get out of their way, stumbling into the stack of cans. Like a teetering pile of dominos, they came down, scattering across the aisle in a thunderous clatter of metal on linoleum. I groaned, trying to back away, when I accidentally slipped on one and ended up on my butt, in the middle of the floor.

  “Fucking hell!” I didn’t swear all that much, but when I did, I went for it. “What the hell?” As I struggled to sit up, cans rolled every which way. The other shopper—I recognized her as belonging to one of the local weretiger packs—let out a snarl of surprise, but then instantly was on her knees beside me.

  “Are you okay? Do you need help?” She helped me sit up, a look of concern on her face. “I’m so sorry—that was my fault! I didn’t think I was that close to you. I knew I should have worn my glasses. Stupid me.”

  She sounded so concerned that I felt bad for my outburst.

  “I’m… It’s all right. Accidents happen.” I tried to stand up, but as I put pressure on my wrists to brace myself, my right thumb sent a jolt of pain through my hand and I let out a cry.

  “My thumb!” I held up my hand, staring at it. My thumb looked bent in a way it shouldn’t bend, and it was rapidly swelling and turning color. “I think…” I tried to move it. As I shifted it backward, the pain flared, throbbing, but it didn’t hurt the same way that it had when I tried to put weight on it. “I think it’s sprained.”

  The Muzak playing in the background was annoyingly cheerful. Right about then, one of the stockers came running over, skidding to a halt when he saw the cans filling the aisle.

  The moment he saw me, I saw the glassy hint of terror in his face. Lawsuit city, he was probably thinking. He quickly knelt beside me. “Are you all right? Hold on, please. Let me get the manager.” Before I could answer, he was gone.

  “Afraid of a lawsuit,” my weretiger companion guessed. She winked at me. “You could make out like a bandit, you know.”

  “I’ve had enough of bandits,” I said, feeling grumpy. “Can you help me stand up?”

  She was athletic, and had no trouble bracing herself as she leveraged me to my feet. As I cautiously checked myself out, holding my thumb as still as I could, one knee began to twinge, and I tasted blood.

  “You cut your lip,” she said. “I’m Rhonda, by the way. Rhonda Castille.”

  “Hi. I’m Maddy Gallowglass.” I licked my lip and sure enough, that’s where the blood was coming from. At least I hadn’t broken a tooth.

  Right about then, the manager came barreling around the corner. “Ms. Gallowglass, are you all right?” He kicked his way through the cans, barking an order for the stocker to clean them up. “Do you need me to call an ambulance? The medics?”

  I stared at my thumb. Driving with that was going to be a bitch, at least until I got it splinted. “If someone could just drive me to my doctor, I’ll be all right, I think.”

  “It was my fault—” Rhonda started to say, but I cut her off.

  “It was nobody’s fault. An accident.” I stared at my cart ruefully. “I really needed to shop, too.”

  “I’ll take you to the doctor,” Rhonda said. “It’s the least I can do.”

  I let out a sigh, then nodded. “Thanks, then if you can drop me back here, I can finish getting my groceries and go home.” I turned to the manager. “Can you please put three cans of tomatoes in that cart, and keep it for me? I don’t think there’s anything frozen in it.”

  “Will do. Here, Ted.” He turned to the stocker. “When you finish picking up those cans, put three of them in this cart and then tag it with Ms. Gallowglass’s name and put it in the back till she returns for it. And for the sake of the gods, clean this mess up pronto.”

  Rhonda asked them to keep her cart as well and led me out to the parking lot. The back window of her Toyota Highlander had those stick figure decals—a mom, four kids, and two dogs. Which meant she was either a single mother, a widow, or she was pissed at her husband and had pulled his decal off.

  She bundled me into the front passenger seat, then plugged her phone into the GPS. “Where do you need to go?”

  I went to the same doctor as Sandy—it had been easier than finding someone new when I moved to Bedlam. “Dr. Karen Osgood. She’s on Rushwood Drive.”

  Rhonda plugged in the instructions and the GPS navigator began guiding her. As we eased out of the parking lot, I leaned against the headrest and tried not to move my thumb.

  “I own the Bewitching Bedlam B&B. What do you do?” I really didn’t relish the silence of a ride with a stranger.

  She flashed me a smile. “I heard about your inn—and you—when the woman from your coven was murdered. Bad business, that.”

  “Rose. She was a friend,” I murmured.

  “I’m an accountant. I run my own business, Castille’s Accounting. My husband started it, and after we got married, I became a partner in the firm. He was killed two years ago when he drove into Seattle. There was a lot of ice that year on the West Seattle Bridge, ending up in a five-car pileup. He was unlucky enough to be wedged between a big van and a semi-truck.”

  I blinked. That was a lot of information to take in. “I’m sorry.”

  She gave a little shrug, and a flash of pain crossed her face, but all she said was, “Life sucks, sometimes. But we had four kids and I had to pick up the pieces.”

  I steered the conversation away from painful memories. “
Thanks so much for giving me a ride. I don’t think my thumb is broken, but I’m not going to be able to do much until it’s set. They really shouldn’t block the aisles with stacks like that. It’s much safer to put the cans on the shelves.”

  She let out a laugh. “You know how businesses are—make use of every inch of space. I don’t like going into some antique or china boutiques because I’m afraid of breaking things. I may be a weretiger, but you’d think I was a proverbial bull in the china shop.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I’m not graceless, but honestly, I sometimes think that Murphy’s Law follows me around just waiting for an opportunity to prove itself.”

  We continued the banter until she eased the SUV into the doctor’s parking lot. She turned off the ignition and jumped out, coming around to open the door for me. “Here, this will be easier than you trying to use that hand.”

  Holding my right hand in the air, I headed into the doctor’s office with Rhonda following me. Thirty minutes later, I walked out again, sporting a wrist guard and a brace on my thumb. The pad below my thumb was also inflamed, so the doctor wanted me to wear the brace for three weeks.

  “Thank gods I’m left handed,” I said as we drove back to the market. At that moment, my phone rang. I managed to get it out of my purse and answered. It was Sandy.

  “Can you meet me at the Blue Jinn for lunch? I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

  That Sandy dove right in told me something had happened. “I’ll meet you there at twelve-thirty. If I’m a little late, don’t panic.”

  Back at the supermarket, I thanked Rhonda for her help and paid for my groceries. I’d have to pick up the rest of what I had come for later. As the bagboy carried them to my car, I glanced at the time. Twelve-ten. If I went home first, I’d be late. There was nothing that could spoil in the bags, so I decided to drive straight to the Blue Jinn.

 

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