by Janet Leigh
Ace rode with Jake in case Toches tried any funny business on the way. My parents had happily joined the hayride, leaving Marco and me to ride over with Eli and the evil bitch. I was surprised Eli had driven down. A few more guests followed behind the hayride, leaving the parking lot empty except for Mamma Bea’s car and a black Mercedes-Benz SUV. Mahlia and Eli were standing next to the gate talking with Mamma Bea and looking ready to bolt. Brodie was keeping a short distance from the not-so-happy couple.
“Do y’all want a ride over to the reception?” Mamma Bea asked, looking at the black SUV as Marco and I approached.
“We are riding with Eli,” I said, pointing at the SUV, and Mahlia’s mouth twitched.
“That’s a mighty fine ride you have there.” Mamma Bea nodded admiringly at the Benz.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Mahlia said with a touch of apprehension in her voice.
Mamma Bea looked at her and gave a slow nod. “OK, I’ll see you there.” She slowly walked down the road to her car and turned at the last minute, giving a wave.
“OK, what gives?” I asked Eli.
“I know all about your secret spy life,” he spat at me.
“It wasn’t like I could just tell you about it,” I said in defense.
Mahlia looked a little pale, as if things weren’t going her way. The self-confident bitchy attitude had been replaced by something less confident, almost scared.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my gaze switching between the two of them.
Eli unbuttoned his shirt and exposed a key around his neck. Mahlia’s key. Marco and Brodie both broke out in huge grins.
“What?” I asked. “Why is Eli wearing your key?”
“How’d ya git that?” asked Brodie.
Mahlia teared up, and Eli frowned at us.
“She always takes it off when she showers.” Eli stood, his lips pressed tightly together and frowning.
“Leaving your key unprotected. That’s brigand no-no number one. I bet the elder Mafuso was pretty upset with you,” Marco said.
“Why didn’t you just take it off him?” I asked.
“I tried,” she said, swiping at a tear that had leaked down her cheek.
“You have the gift?” I asked Eli. “But didn’t Aint Elma try her key on you when we were kids?”
“Are you nuts?” Eli said. “I wasn’t going to have them put a girlie necklace on me. I remember Aint Elma touching my cheeks and shaking her head, then trying to put that necklace around my throat. One time, when I spent the night with her, I caught her trying in the middle of the night. It was scary waking up to an old woman leaning over you and trying to dress you like a girl. I told Mamma Bea, and she gave Aint Elma what for. I didn’t know the necklace had some magical power, and my sister was flitting about the world on her day off.”
Mahlia couldn’t take her key off Eli, because he had the gift. I didn’t know if I should be happy—now Eli would understand how my life had changed—or sad because he looked like he might strangle me.
“What’s the plan?” Marco asked.
“Simple,” Mahlia said, her bitchy self making an appearance. “We go to the reception at the white house in the woods. We will return Eli safely in exchange for my key. Gian-Carlo has made a deal with Toches to return the Sleigh key to the WTF after we receive the Tribal key.”
“Whoa, no one said anything about your key. We will have to talk to Agent McCoy.” Brodie strutted around as if he couldn’t contain his good fortune. I knew he was thinking this changed the game, and there was a possibility we could keep the Thunder key.
Eli looked hurt. Mahlia had used him so the Mafusos could get the Tribal key. Eli’s theft of Mahlia’s key was only a small snafu in their evil plan. I decided to inform him of a few rules. “She can’t kill you if you’re wearing the key, because she will die as well.”
“I thought there was more. It was like the thing called out to me, and when I put the necklace on, I had this unbelievable energy. I felt like I could run a marathon. I thought maybe it was the great sex. But normally, I’m exhausted after. When I saw myself in the mirror, I knew it was coming from the necklace, and then she tackled me and tried to force the thing off me.”
Marco and Brodie smiled. I rolled my eyes and noticed a small bruise under Eli’s right eye that was partially hidden by his glasses.
“Did she hurt you?” I asked.
“Some—probably a cracked rib—but when she took me to see the Elder Mafuso, Gian-Carlo, he asked me to join them.”
I took a step back. “You’re not going to join them, are you?”
“It’s his decision,” Mahlia said, butting in. “After we receive the Tribal key, we will have a spare, thanks to Caiyan giving up his key in the name of love.” She examined her perfect manicure. “Seems like the WTF is fresh out of keys.”
“It’s my brother’s choice to take off the key.” I gave her a small smirk. “We know your vessel. If Eli decides to keep the key, you can say bye-bye to that fancy Harley of yours.”
Mahlia’s face fell. “We’ll see you at the exchange.”
Eli crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m standing right here, and I’m capable of making my own decisions.”
I knew my brother. It wasn’t in his nature to be a thief. He was a doctor, do-gooder, healer. If a choice had to be made, Eli would choose the honest path. Mahlia had picked the wrong guy to wrap her legs around this time.
* * *
***
* * *
The sun was setting as we approached Aint Elma’s house, and the sunlight cast a golden glow over the small farm that used to belong to one tough old woman. I hadn’t known her well, but when I wore her key, I felt a connection with her. I was curious whether other travelers felt the same pull from their keys. Mahlia’s key had called out to Eli subconsciously or telepathically—or had it actually spoken to him? The Thunder key made a noise that sounded like a boom from the heavens. Maybe there was more to the keys than an inanimate piece of moonstone. My inner voice took a memo to ask the other travelers.
Aint Elma’s backyard was big enough to hold a wedding party, including a tented sit-down dinner for about fifty people. Guests were directed to enter the reception through the side gate. Tall oak trees wrapped in miniature twinkle lights provided an enchanted fairy wonderland. Marco was slouching along behind me, not nearly as impressed with the venue as I was. I stopped to get a feel for the area, and he leaned in next to me.
“Are you sensing any brigands on your radar?” he asked, leaning in extra close so I felt his breath on my neck, and my toes began to tingle.
“Other than Mahlia, I don’t see anyone.” We walked together, saying hello to my relatives as we passed. The large white party tent was set up directly behind the house. Tables and chairs were arranged beneath it with a few scattered outside the tent for extra seating. Gertie’s mom had used the same setup when she’d married Vinnie the Fish. I tried to imagine marrying Marco here. He could definitely rock a black tuxedo with tails, and I would wear a white Monique Lhuillier wedding dress. I was mentally arranging the seating chart when Marco nudged me.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
My mouth popped open so wide I thought my TMJ would lock up, and I would be stuck for the night. “What do you mean?” I managed to get my jaws moving again and crossed my fingers Marco didn’t suddenly have ESP.
“If this thing gets out of hand, your entire family will be exposed to your time-travel secrets.”
“Let’s make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.” I turned toward the tent and began searching for any uninvited wedding guests.
A special stage was set up in front of the tent for the choir that would perform for the guests during dinner and for the obligatory toasts from the maid of honor and the best man. A few choir members were lingering around the stage, but they seemed harmless. No brigands here.
The reception attendants were lighting patio heaters to keep the night air warm. I pulled on my jacke
t as I canvassed my surroundings for brigands. To the right of the wedding tent was an old red barn. The last time I had seen it, the double doors were covered in chipped paint and falling off the hinges. The family used it to store odds and ends, rusted-out farm equipment, and items we couldn’t get rid of in a garage sale. Tonight the barn sported a fresh coat of fire-engine red paint, and its entire contents had been cleared. The wood floor was swept clean, and mason jars were strung throughout with small votive candles adding a romantic illumination to the old barn.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, walking inside the barn.
“It ought to be, dawrlin’,” Mamma Bea said, entering the barn. “It took me three weeks and four farmhands to get this old barn clean and ready.”
“You did an amazing job,” Marco said, admiring the wagon-wheel chandelier that hung overhead.
Tiny twinkle lights that mimicked the lights on the outside trees wrapped the crossbeams, and in the far corner was an area set up for a DJ and karaoke.
“Well,” Mamma Bea said, leaning in so only Marco and I would hear. “Emperor KW Smooth Dog sent an e-mail saying he would need a place for him and his dog pound to perform.”
We laughed, and I honestly couldn’t wait to see the looks on my family’s faces when he began his gangsta rap.
Mamma Bea opened a trapdoor in the floor of the barn. It led to a hidden room my ancestors had used during Prohibition that also doubled as a tornado shelter. She disappeared down a ladder and resurfaced a minute later, hauling two jugs of brown liquid. I took the jugs from Mamma Bea as Marco helped her up from the ladder.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked.
“Yep, Grandpa Cloud’s famous moonshine. I hide it in the bootleggers’ hold, or Uncle Durr would drink me dry. I’m going to mix it in the punchbowl with the lemonade.”
Moonshine lemonade. After a few glasses, we would all be rapping along with the dog pound.
The reception was in full swing. A full buffet of fried everything. I was starving, but my stomach was doing flip turns over the approaching exchange. Mahlia was keeping within an arm’s length of Eli, and Hildy had Caiyan occupied with one of her many lengthy stories. I knew Jake was staked out somewhere with Toches, waiting on the meeting, but I didn’t see Ace or Brodie. Marco left to walk the perimeter, and I was standing alone, feeling useless. I caught Gertie as she left the buffet table with a plate piled high with fried chicken and waffles.
“Have you seen Brodie?” I asked as she passed and snagged a heart-shaped waffle off her plate.
“He’s in the wind,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at me and tipping her head toward the treetops. “I’m supposed to keep an eye on things when you go back to make the trade. You know, to keep all us NATs from interfering with the secret-agent stuff.”
“Wow, so you know about the meeting?”
“Yes, and no thanks to you. You would think your best friend would know what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry. It all came to a head pretty quick.”
“That’s OK. You can make amends by telling me every detail of the night you spent with Marco.”
“What details would those be now?” Caiyan asked, walking up next to me.
“Got to go.” Gertie took off toward the bridal party and left me with all the details. Damn.
“How’s Hildy?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.
“She’s got some great stories—long, but interesting.” He placed both hands in his pants pockets. “Aboot Berlin—”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” I said, cutting him off. A swift wind swept through the trees, and a strand of my hair came loose from my sleek ponytail.
He reached up to place it back behind my ear, hesitated midway, and returned his hands to his pockets.
We stood for a moment in silence. I felt people passing by, and Hildy said, “It’s time for the Nuwaubian Nation choir to sing. I heard they’re incredible.”
That was our cue for the meeting. Marco rejoined us, and the two men had a brief growl at each other. I waited until all eyes were focused on the choir.
“Let’s go.” I broke the stare down, and we headed through the back gate to the hidden garden. A row of tall, thick bushes blocked the backyard from what most of my family referred to as the pasture. When Aint Elma was alive, the area had resembled a picture from a garden magazine. She’d had multiple vegetable and flower gardens that were interwoven throughout tall trees and an occasional frog pond. The gardens were gone now, and the pathway through the garden was overgrown with crabgrass. As we walked, the singing from the choir slowly faded away. We passed the weeping willow tree where Aint Elma had kept the outhouse before she gave it to me.
“Remember when we met here?” Marco asked, knowing full well he was pushing Caiyan’s buttons.
Thankfully, Marco’s stroll down memory lane was halted by the glow of a low fire and shadows in the distance. Caiyan pulled a Glock out of the shoulder holster hidden under his suit jacket. As we walked closer, the figures became familiar. Standing under the canopy of a hundred-year-old pecan tree was Jake. Toches was seated on a wooden bench at the base of the tree with his hands secured behind his back. Ace was hovering over him. Eli and Mahlia were standing off to the side in front of a large stump. When we were kids, Gertie and I had played Knights of the Round Table on that stump, because of its rounded edges and large base. Aint Elma had used it as a chopping block to chop wood for the winter.
As we approached, Caiyan saw the key around Eli’s neck. “Holy shite!” he exclaimed. “How did that happen?”
Mahlia looked at the ground.
“Eli has the gift,” I told him. “We didn’t know.”
“What’s wrong with this family? How can they keep something so powerful a secret?” Caiyan asked, narrowing his eyes at Marco.
Jake held up a hand, halting what was about to be an unnecessary confrontation. “Here’s the problem. Now they want to exchange Eli for Mahlia’s key and the Sleigh key for the Tribal key.”
“I don’t think that is a very fair trade,” Ace said, still trying to hold on to the Thunder key for Caiyan.
At once, everyone was arguing their point. A crack of thunder sounded, halting the conversations, and a few minutes later, the Mafuso leader entered the secret garden. It was the garden where I’d first discovered my vessel and the heart and soul of Aint Elma. I felt a tickle of anger in my throat. It was as if the devil himself had penetrated our sacred space.
He approached the group, dressed like he should be attending a charity ball instead of meeting with the WTF. He wore a black virgin-wool Prada suit, a deep-purple silk shirt, and freshly shined shoes. His purple shirt was open at the collar, and reflecting the flame from the firelight was Caiyan’s key.
“Gian-Carlo, ye son of a bitch!” Caiyan shouted and started toward him. Marco held on to Caiyan to prevent him from attacking the old man.
“You didn’t think I was going to let Mitchell keep such a valuable prize?” he asked, lowering his chin and staring down his nose at Caiyan.
Jake stepped between the men. “It seems there is another key now on the table for negotiation.”
“Yes, yes,” he said. “So unfortunate.” He placed a hand on Eli’s arm. “We would be happy to have you join our family business. Mahlia has taken quite an interest in you.”
Ace snorted. “Family business, bloody filchers.”
Eli just stood planted, not making a sound.
“We will trade Eli and the Sleigh key for the Tribal key—and Mahlia’s, of course.”
Toches’s head shot up. “I have the Sleigh.”
“We had a bargain. Did we not?” Gian-Carlo stood facing Toches. “Although after your attempt to steal the key from under our noses, I might reconsider.”
“I was making sure they didn’t trick us,” Toches whined.
Gian-Carlo crossed his arms over his chest and studied Toches. “You may have the lovely key I am wearing, and I will take control over the Tribal key.”
Toches stopped whining and gave Caiyan a smug look. Caiyan grumbled a Gaelic curse.
Jake took control. “OK, first we will exchange the Sleigh key for the Tribal key.” He placed the unwrapped box in the center of the stump and used his key to unlock and open it.
Ace removed the handcuffs from Toches, and he reached up, unfastened the Sleigh key, and handed the key to me.
Gian-Carlo reached into the box and lifted out the Thunder. A loud boom rang out from the key, and Gian-Carlo smiled.
Toches started to freak out. He jumped from his seat and flapped his arms like a turkey trying to take flight. “They’re scamming us. That’s not the Tribal key.”
“It’s not?” Jake asked.
“No, that’s my key, and I don’t want it back. You bastards stole it from my ancestors, didn’t you?”
“Bloody hell, Toches, we didn’t know it was yours,” Ace said.
“We though’ the key was dead,” Caiyan added.
“You took it while I was in Berlin. I was stuck there for over a year!” His face started turning red. “I finally realized what my key had been doing to me, but I was trapped there being Hitler’s bitch. I couldn’t enjoy my freedom.”
“What was your key doing to you?” I asked, watching Gian-Carlo run his hands over the Thunder key.
“The key is possessed,” Toches said, his voice escalating a few octaves.
“Possessed?” Gian-Carlo dropped the key back into its velvet bedding and pulled a gun from his breast pocket. Grabbing Jake around the throat, he held the gun to his head. “Now you will return both keys, or I will shoot your leader dead.”
My heart sank. I didn’t see Brodie in the trees. But what could he do? He couldn’t shoot Gian-Carlo; he had the gift.
I heard the distinctive sound of a shotgun being cocked. Mamma Bea stepped into the light with a double-barreled shotgun pointed at the brigands.
“You drop your weapon, Gian-Carlo. I can kill all y’all and not bat an eyelash.”