by Ashlyn Chase
Vic must have said something funny, because Alex laughed. Then he put his hand over the phone and said to the women, “He reminded me that this time I get to change diapers.”
“You know it,” Savern said.
Alex was grinning as he resumed his conversation. He wasn’t saying much. Just ‘She is,” “uh huh,” “good,” and, “I will.”
At last he clicked off and laid the phone next to her purse on the dresser. “Vic said to tell you that he’s proud of you both. I’ve got to ditto that.”
“So, did he give you any hints about the surprise?” Savern asked.
“Yes, but I’ll let him tell you.”
“No . . .” Savern whined. “Don’t make me wait. Whisper it in my ear if he doesn’t want Michele to know yet.”
“I guess I can tell you some of what he said. They caught Donovan.”
Both women froze momentarily.
“Where?” Michele asked, barely above a whisper.
“How?” Savern added.
“I don’t have all the details. I just know that Vic followed up and he was transported from Louisiana to Florida today. Vic watched as Dade County locked him up.”
Michele let out a deep breath. “Thank the Goddess. I only wish I had stripped our powers sooner.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” Alex reminded her.
“I guess so.”
She had finished cleaning Victoria enough to allow Alex to hold her. “Let me wrap her up and give her to Alex while you get cleaned up, Savern.”
The new mother handed over the now calm babe and Michele took her to the receiving blanket, which was ready and waiting on other side of the bed. When she was wrapped snugly in the soft, thin blanket she placed her in Alex’s arms. He supported her head and neck automatically.
“He’s a natural,” Savern said.
As Michele finished delivering the placenta, she chatted casually. “So, are you okay with no Apgar scores or footprints?”
“Yes. The doctor can do a healthy baby exam later.”
She knew her friend was confident that a home birth was the way to go and didn’t want all the poking and prodding that would happen in a hospital in the first few minutes of a child’s life.
As soon as she was finished, Michele said, “Well, I can bring a basin of clean water to you, or you can—”
Savern swung her feet over the side of the bed and stood up slowly. “Or I can walk myself to the bathroom like our ancestors did.”
Michele chuckled, but walked with her, just in case. As they were leaving the bedroom, Michele looked back over her shoulder. Alex had settled in the rocking chair and gazed at the baby in his arms. Then he began to sing.
* * * * *
At Vic’s house, Michele leaned back and stretched like a cat. He wasn’t home yet, so she made a pot of coffee to keep her awake until he got there. The birth had gotten her out of bed at four o’clock in the morning and Savern’s labor had lasted for nine hours.
She was just wondering how full time midwives did that every day when a familiar figure popped in—literally.
“Hanna!”
“Hi there. Is this a good time to visit?”
“For you? Anytime is good. Thanks so much for telling me about Marie Laveau’s grave dust spell. It worked. You’re a genius!”
“Well, thank you. There’s someone else who’d like to see you too. Is it okay if I invite Fayleen?”
“Of course.”
She pulled three coffee mugs out of the cabinet and set them next to the coffeepot.
A moment later, the platinum blonde popped into Vic’s kitchen. “I’d rather have tea, if you don’t mind.”
Michele chuckled. “That’s good, because I don’t think I made enough coffee for three.
Fayleen spoke as Michele filled the teapot. “I was talking to Hanna. She said you were half fey.”
“Oh. She told you that?” Well, obviously. Duh. She just said so.
Hanna had told Michele about her mother being with a man who vanished into thin air after they’d had sex, and nine months later Michele was born . . . but was the man actually fey? Was there such a thing? Michele had never met anyone who’d said they were.
“Michele,” Fayleen said, “We have a little problem and we’re hoping you might be able to help.”
She set the teapot on the stove. “What kind of problem?”
It’s about the grail . . .” Hanna began.
“Again?”
The Unholy Grail was a chalice she had seen at Hanna’s mother’s home when she was young. She knew she wasn’t supposed to touch anything, but when Hanna’s mother and her mother left her for a moment to go to the kitchen, something about it called to her.
Seven-year-old Michele’s curiosity got the better of her and she picked up the heavy object. When colored light shot out of the inset jewels, she almost dropped it. The adults came running into the room and just stared at her with gaping mouths.
She quickly set it down and apologized, but they didn’t get angry. It was their shock that registered with her the most. She remembered the incident clearly, because of that.
A few months ago Hanna and Fayleen had come to her in a panic, hoping she could help them locate the grail—because of her affinity with it. Apparently no one else had had the same reaction to it . . . or it to them.
“But you found it, didn’t you? We held hands and you followed my vision. I thought you knew exactly where it was.”
“Oh, we did. And we have it, but something is wrong,” Hanna said.
“Like what?”
Fayleen folded her arms. “It’s rebelling.”
“It’s what?”
“Rebelling. That’s the best way I can describe it,” she said.
“I’m confused,” Michele said. “What are you trying to make it do that it’s not doing?”
“Only what it’s always done.” Hanna smiled. “The grail grants supernatural powers to those who drink from it. At least it did the last twenty times anyone tried it.”
“Even a dog who used it as a water dish wound up with the power to speak,” Fayleen added.
“And you tried to use it after that and it wouldn’t work?” Michele asked.
“No. It worked for Ethan,” Hanna said. “And Brigit a few months later.”
Michele thought about that while she set the sugar bowl on the kitchen table. As she was getting the cream from the refrigerator, she asked, “Who did you try it on when it stopped working?”
“Myranda, Isabelle, Yvonne, Celestia, Raven, and Lana.”
“Wow! It sounds like you were desperate.”
Hanna took a seat at the kitchen table. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, I haven’t been there for a while, it’s true, but it sounds like you tried it on the rest of the coven. Did you think all of them were mature enough to handle the responsibility of supernatural powers?”
Hanna frowned. “Like you said, you haven’t been there for a while. When Ariel left we felt it was safe to discuss the grail openly with the remaining members. No one has shared the information with anyone outside the coven.”
Michele hung her head. “Except me.”
Fayleen and Hanna’s eyes widened.
“Who did you tell?” Hanna demanded.
“Take a guess,” she said, angrily. Then she apologized for her tone and explained she was upset with herself for having shared the experience of her youth with Donovan when they were a couple.
“Shit,” Fayleen whispered under her breath. “No wonder he wanted you so badly.”
Hanna placed her hand over Michele’s but didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Michele knew what she’d done wrong and she certainly wouldn’t do it again.
At last, Michele broke the tension by changing the subject. “Where did Ariel go?”
Fayleen snorted. “She got a job at the Chanel store in Paris. She really did need a complete change of lifestyle, and anything was better for her than taking care of children.”<
br />
Hanna nodded. “That’s for sure. She was always complaining about the ‘little brats’ as she called them.”
“Okay. So getting back to the matter at hand,” Fayleen said, “We thought maybe the grail needed a reboot. Since you seem to have a special relationship with it, we’d like you to . . .”
Michele waited for their suggestions. When nothing was forthcoming, she asked. “To what?”
Hanna shrugged. “We don’t know. Hold it? Talk to it?”
Michele’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my Goddess!”
“What?” The other witches asked at once.
“Can you bring it to me, or me to it? I have an idea.”
Chapter 16
Vic watched Donovan through a one-way mirror as he was about to be interrogated by the Daytona Beach police. He was hoping for a murder confession but doubted that would happen. The next best thing would be if he incriminated himself in some way. Donovan sat there with a smug look on his face. He hadn’t asked for a lawyer, and Vic doubted he would. The jackass looked down on everyone, even Michele as it turned out.
The interrogating detective introduced himself. Then he asked if Donovan knew why he was being questioned.
“Frankly, no,” he said. “I did nothing wrong.”
“You were identified as the murderer of Lois Jennings.”
“Who?”
Donovan could believably deny knowing the victim, because his action involved a case of mistaken identity. He thought he was stabbing Michele.
“We’ve been looking for her killer, and a witness who saw the whole thing said you stabbed her with some kind of ceremonial knife and then ran. A couple days later you turned up in New Orleans.”
“But you can’t prove anything. Right?”
The cop narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think we can’t prove it?”
Donovan’s creepy smile emerged. He got that psychotic look in his eyes and the cop leaned away just a bit.
“I say you have no witnesses. And that ceremonial knife you mentioned that was used in the murder, isn’t mine. I would never use an athame as a weapon . . . It is a religious object. How can you think I’d desecrate it so?”
The cop snorted. “Do you know how many people have been attacked with crosses and candlesticks?”
“I don’t know. Did Colonel Mustard do it in the library?”
The cop slid his chair back and rose. “We’ll be running some tests on that “athame” as you call it. You know standard stuff.” The cop bent his face close to Donovan’s and said very softly in his ear. “Science can be pretty powerful too. Funny thing about DNA. It doesn’t lie.”
Donovan shifted in his seat but regained his composure. Vic knew the jerk must have done some spell to clear off his fingerprints on the weapon. But Donovan had never come up against powerful DNA testing. Vic could see a flash of uncertainty in his shifty eyes. The bastard’s devious mind must be working overtime.
“Is that it?” Donovan crossed his arms and smiled like he’d won. “You don’t have any other questions for me?”
“Just one.”
“Go for it.”
“What makes you so sure there were no witnesses?”
Donovan barked a laugh. “That’s easy. Because I was invisible at the time.”
Ah, yes. He just incriminated himself, and he’s going to play the crazy card. Vic had been hoping he would. He knew that Donovan belonged in a cell, but even better would be in a locked unit for the criminally insane. This was the first step in seeing he got there.
As Vic was leaving he caught sight of a familiar face stopping at the water cooler. Dark hair and gothic make-up against a pale complexion . . .
“Kip?”
She snapped upright and stared at him with wide eyes. After a few seconds, she relaxed and nodded. “Hi, Vic. I’m actually glad I ran into you.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. I owe you an apology. I’m really sorry I broke up you and Michele. You two seemed really happy together.”
He smiled. “I hope you mean that. We’re back together and stronger than ever.”
“Really? I’m glad I didn’t ruin it.” She seemed genuinely relieved.
“As Michele would say, ‘If it’s meant to be, it will be.’ I guess we’re meant to be.”
She grinned. “It sounds like she’s rubbing off on you—in a good way.”
“She’s opened my mind to a lot of things.” He wanted to ask what Kip was doing at the police station, and it was nearly killing him to keep quiet, but he had learned not to jump to conclusions—especially where kids were concerned. When he’d spoken to his buddy about patrolling the shop, he had asked him to cruise by Kip’s house and keep an eye on her, because of her abusive father. He hoped she wasn’t here to bail out the bastard.
A young officer joined them. “Hey, Kip. Is this a friend of yours?”
“Yeah. He is.” She smiled but didn’t say any more than that. Vic extended his hand. “Vic Matthews.”
The cop shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Vic.”
Then suddenly as if she couldn’t stand holding onto some secret, she exploded. “Can I tell him, Officer Daniels? Please? He’s completely trustworthy.”
When the cop nodded, Kip whispered, “I’m his CI.”
“Confidential informant?” Vic had to ask, but he tried not to sound shocked.
Kip grinned. “I’m doing some undercover stuff for the cops. I can get in with some of the people who don’t trust them.”
Vic nodded. “That makes a lot of sense. Have you been at it long?”
The cop set a hand on her shoulder. “About six weeks. So far, she’s helped us shut down two Meth operations and lock up a major heroin dealer.”
“Nice work, Kip.” Vic meant it.
“Oh, and remember how my father was being such an asshole?”
Vic just nodded.
“He’s in rehab. And one of the lady cops is teaching me self-defense in case I ever need it.”
He could hardly wait to share the news with Michele. “By the way, Kip. Be careful while you’re here today. Donovan’s being held pending a bail hearing. I’m off to see what I can do about getting that option off the table.”
“Wow. I’m not sure of all that Donovan did to Michele, but she sure was afraid of him.”
“Yeah. She won’t relax until she knows he’s in prison for good. I’m just letting you know so you’ll stay the heck away from him.”
“Before I go, I just have to ask . . . It looks like the shop has been closed temporarily. Is Savern okay?”
“She’s great. She has a beautiful new baby girl to get used to. Eventually she plans to reopen the shop. You should stop by and see if she can use a hand.”
Kip smiled. “Thanks. I will. How about Michele? Will she be back?”
How much should I tell Kip? He decided honesty was best. “We’re probably going to move far away, Kip.”
“Oh. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Right now she’s taking some time off. She’s been through a lot lately, so just lounging by the pool is all she wants to do for a while.”
“I don’t blame her.”
“Well, I’ll let you go” he said. Then he dug a business card out of his pocket. “Keep in touch.”
“Yeah. You too,” she said. The expression on her face as she peered at the business card seemed a little stunned but happy.
* * * * *
The alchemist crossed his virtual arms and pouted. How many times would he have to be disappointed? When would someone figure out he was stuck in the chalice and set him free?
Obviously these witches were dumber than he’d thought. Not one of them had ever wondered where their powers came from. They were just happy to have them and off they went on their merry way. Well, that was not going to happen anymore.
At least he could see again. When the Kingsley witches had carelessly lost him and he wound up with a four-year-old, she’d covered his precious gems with sparkly stic
kers! How humiliating! Sure, the stones hadn’t been faceted and made to sparkle, but even au naturel, at least he could see out of them like dirty windows.
Oh well. Now that he was locked in a safe, he couldn’t see anything anyway. He’d have to wait until the next full moon when the supernatural coven members met. They’d decided the grail should change hands frequently so others could never be sure of its whereabouts. At least they understood its value.
Wait. Someone is unlocking the safe! It had been only two weeks since the last full moon, so this was not the usual passing of the grail. The unholy grail as they’d called it. Another abominable humiliation.
He was handled carefully, even reverently.
It was her! The one they called Michele. If anyone was sensitive enough to feel his presence within the cup, it would be her. He could feel her fey energy. Although it was faint, its signature was unmistakable.
He also sensed the humans called Hanna and Fayleen. He remembered hoping that Fayleen had fey blood and came by her name that way—but no. She was an ordinary human.
“Hello,” the one he hadn’t seen since she was a child said.
Holy heavens! She knows! She knows I’m in here. Or maybe she only suspects. He had to give her a signal to let her know she was right.
He concentrated and filled the cup with light. It had to be shining out of the gems, because he distinctly heard three gasps.
“Fill it!” one of the supernatural witches cried.
Cool water poured over him and settled in the cup. He wished the fey-witch drinking from him would gain supernatural powers. In fact, he wished it with all his heart.
“I don’t think it worked,” she said sadly.
“Why not?” the one called Fayleen asked.
“I don’t feel any different—and there’s something I haven’t told you . . .”
Oh, no. What did she do?
As if the one called Hanna had read his mind, she said, “Uh-oh. What did you do?”
Michelle sighed. “I stripped my powers using that voodoo spell that called for dust from the grave of Marie Leveau.”
“Why would you do that?” Fayleen asked.
“It was the only way to stop Donovan. I had a boomerang spell in place. So did he. By finally neutralizing his power, I stripped my own.”