by Amy Boyles
I snaked my way through the tables and chairs scattered throughout the floor. When I reached Frederick Cobblestone, I leaned down and said, “Judge Cobblestone, good to see you out.”
He looked back at me. “Hmm, yes? Good to see you. Hope you’re enjoying the evening. They make wonderful shepherd’s pie here.”
A bit too rib sticking for the warm weather, in my opinion. But whatever.
My fingers brushed down the side of his robe as I kept him talking. “I hope you don’t think I was really trying to cheat in there today. I wouldn’t do that.” I found the opening of the pocket and slowly slid my hand inside.
He folded his hands on the table. “It’s best not to discuss those things. The decision’s been made, and that’s that.”
“Just like it was made about your son.” Sorry. Just couldn’t help myself.
I felt the outline of cold, hard metal. It was large. Possibly the same size as Never Forget. It felt like a trophy. Oh my gosh, I thought, it was Never Forget!
My fingers gripped the metal, and I tugged as Cobblestone rose from his chair, turning on me.
“Aha,” I shouted. “I’ve got it!”
“Got what? What are you talking about?”
“You stole Never Forget.”
I think I heard Roman smack his forehead in the background.
Cobblestone’s eyes narrowed. “Look again.”
So there I was, standing in the middle of the room with a metal container that looked a lot like Never Forget. Except it was smaller, and it was more round than oval, and it had a mother-of-pearl handles.
“It looks like Never Forget.”
“Open it,” Cobblestone growled.
I opened the peaked top and found a honey-colored liquid inside. It smelled like pine trees.
“Looks like Never Forget to me,” I said, trying to sound more triumphant than I actually felt.
“That,” Cobblestone sneered, “is Always Prepared.”
“Well, what’s that?” I demanded.
Cobblestone’s mouth curled up in disgust as he said, “It’s none of your business.”
Someone tapped me on the shoulder. “It’s magical Viagra,” Roman said from behind me.
“No, it isn’t.” Cobblestone snatched the cup away from me. “It’s not that.”
“Been selling it, Cobblestone?” Roman said.
“No. I don’t need to sell that stuff.”
Roman sniffed the container. “This stuff goes for a pretty penny. You know, we’ve had some reports of nasty side effects from this.”
Cobblestone’s face paled. “I’m not selling.”
Roman cuffed a hand around his arm. “Why don’t you come with me and we can talk about it?”
“I’m not selling it!”
Roman’s form stiffened as he said, “Tell it to the council.”
“What about a judge?” I said. I don’t know why that would be the one thought floating around in my mind. “The contest is down one judge.”
Roman glanced back at me and said, “Looks like it’s you.”
TWELVE
Jonathan Pearbottom showed up to help Roman with Cobblestone. The guy did not want to go willingly to the council, that was for sure.
To be fair, I didn’t want to go and be a judge at the competition, which was quickly booted out by Gladiolas and Grandma.
“It’s not protocol,” Gladiolas said, “and Chasity is here anyway. She will serve as the third judge. You can watch if you like. From the balcony where no one can see you. I wouldn’t want anyone else to accuse you of cheating.”
“Good point,” Grandma said.
“It’s awful about Cobblestone,” I said.
Gladiolas poured a cup of coffee from a service that had been brought to us. She handed a cup to Grandma and one to me. The councilwoman then poured herself a cup and added sugar and a heavy dose of cream.
“I’m afraid half the elites showed up here so that Cobblestone could sell his potion to them. Their family has been crumbling, and Frederick was doing what he could to make ends meet.”
“So are all the bigwigs leaving?” I said.
Gladiolas sipped from her cup. “No. They always stay and watch the last day. Which, since Never Forget has been stolen, even more of them have arrived.”
“Is that right since we’re on lockdown?” I said.
“It’s what the council wanted,” she said pointedly.
I yawned. “I’m going back to my room. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
I left, quietly padding through the halls. I came to an intersection, turned and ran headfirst into a shoulder that must have been steel plated or titanium plated or some sort of solid plated because it was the boniest, hardest shoulder I’d ever face-planted directly into.
I rubbed my forehead. “Ow.”
“Dylan Apel,” came the cold voice.
I worked my jaw, making sure it still opened and closed okay. “Jonathan Pearbottom, how’s married life treating you?”
His beady little eyes usually held contempt and cold dislike for me. But ever since I’d kinda helped save his life, the witch police inspector was a bit nicer.
“Married life is good. We’ll be leaving for our honeymoon once this business is over,” he mused. Jonathan slid a hand into the pocket of his tweed cape. Seriously? It was practically summer and the guy was still wearing his cape.
“Great,” I said. “Have a good night.”
I brushed past him.
“Dylan?”
I pivoted on my heel. “Yes?”
Pearbottom cut the distance between us. He rose up so close that I took an awkward step back. His gaze slid from one side of the wall to the other as if to make sure no one was listening.
“I hear rumors that Richard Bane is here.”
“Who’s that?” I lied.
Richard was Boo’s real first name. You didn’t think his mother named him Boo, did you?
Pearbottom frowned. “You know who he is. If these rumors are true, I need to bring him in for questioning. He was there the night that Queen Catherine and her daughters were murdered.” He flicked a speck of dirt out from his fingernails. “The man is a murder suspect as far as I’m concerned. It shouldn’t be a surprise to Roman.”
I swallowed a fist in the back of my throat. “Oh.”
“If Roman’s hiding Richard, tell him to stop. The man is wanted for questioning. Nothing will stand in my way about this.”
“Um, okay,” I said.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
Pearbottom stalked off. I guess I only had two choices—tell Roman to give Boo up, or hide him better.
I’m pretty sure I knew what Roman would do.
I woke up the next morning to find Reid in the shower and Sera hovering over my bed.
“Ahh,” I shouted. “What gives? You trying to give me a heart attack before breakfast?”
“Did it work?” she said cheerfully.
I smirked in reply.
Sera folded her arms. “No, silly. In case you’ve forgotten, next week is our little sister’s nineteenth birthday.”
I groaned and nestled deeper under the downy comforter. “I totally forgot.”
Sera patted my hand. “I didn’t. That’s why I’m the good sister.”
“Thank you for rubbing that in.”
She grinned. “You’re welcome. Anyway, real quick before she gets out of the bathroom. I’ve got a little party planned for that night.”
“You do?”
Sera nodded. “Yep.”
“You’ve got it all planned? You don’t need me to do anything?”
She shook out her glossy bob. “Not one thing. All you have to do, dear sister, is show up at eight o’clock.”
“And you’re doing this only a few days after the competition? Why?”
Sera thumped my head. “Because, dummy, tomorrow someone will win, and that means there will be one happy person and lots of unhappy ones. Reid will need some cheering up.”
/>
“Good point.”
“The party’s going to be at the house. Show up and be happy.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Sera glanced over at the door. “Okay. Now get up and get dressed. The day’s running away without you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “Instead of being in the competition, I get to watch the entire thing today.”
Sera slipped her feet into a pair of sandals. “Good. Maybe you’ll learn something about magic.” Sera flashed me a wide smile to signify she was joking.
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.”
The bathroom door squeaked open, and Reid stepped out, releasing a cloud of steam into the room. “Bathroom’s free.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Reid, what did you do with those rings? The ones I told you not to get mixed up.”
She shook out her head of burgundy curls and crossed to a dresser drawer. She opened it and pointed inside. “Right there.”
I peeked in. “Good. Thanks. And you marked the one that’s the copy?”
Reid handed them to me. I palmed the rings. The weights felt exactly the same, and the details were nearly perfect. I mean, the girl had done a fabulous job.
Reid pointed to one of the bands. “See right there?”
I peered inside. Sure enough, the word FAKE had been etched neatly up by the rim. It was barely noticeable.
“That’s amazing.” I slipped one of the rings in my pocket and tucked the other back in the drawer. “Okay, well, I’m off. Try not to screw up or anything. I really want one of you to win this whole shebang.”
Reid pushed out her bottom lip in a dramatic pout. “Thanks for the encouragement.”
I clapped my hands together. “You’re welcome.”
We left for breakfast. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, tapping her toe like Bugs Bunny in heat, stood Esmerelda Pommelton, Queen Witch of the South.
“Morning, Em,” I said, raising my hand in greeting. “It’s great to see you looking so chipper today.”
“Dylan Apel,” Em fumed. “What’s this I hear about you messin’ around and gettin’ judges kicked out?”
“Jealous?” I said. “You know, they’re going to put Chasity LaRue in as a judge, but you could probably have her take a hike and you could sit in her place. Redneck your queenly way through the entire competition.”
“I ain’t sure I know what the heck that means.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, sailing past her. “But I thought Gladiolas might ask you.” Gladiolas never said that. I totally lied.
Now, Esmerelda was gorgeous, with long crimson- and cinnamon-colored curls, bone-colored skin and stunning green eyes. The only thing wrong with her—and I wouldn’t exactly say wrong, maybe just different—was that Em was the biggest freakin’ redneck I’d ever met.
Seriously.
Em folded her arms. Silver and gold bangles clicked and clanked on her wrists. “Well, she ain’t asked me.”
“Looks like it’s just Chasity then. But you know, if you want the job, be sure to ask her.”
Em’s cheeks burned a fiery red as I walked away. I chuckled to myself. There was nothing like making the queen mad first thing in the morning. Pretty sure this was going to be a great day.
My sisters and I met up with Grandma and Milly in the dining room. A waiter brought me a plated breakfast.
“Would you care for some orange juice?” he asked.
Grandma pushed a glass toward me. “She’s already got some juice.”
The waiter left before I could protest that I didn’t trust anything my grandmother gave me to drink. Well, I’d just have to flag him down if I needed him later.
The water glass held some sort of pinkish orange juice in it. I shot Grandma a skeptical look. “What’s that?”
“It’s an energy drink.”
“Sera and Reid don’t have it.” Which was true. Their glasses held sweating ice water.
Milly forked a glob of eggs. “They don’t need it. You’re gonna need all the stamina you can get today, toots. Trust me. You’ve got a long, boring day without anything to keep you occupied since you’re not competing.”
“What’s in it?” I said, eyeing the glass suspiciously. “You didn’t swipe some of Cobblestone’s magical Viagra, did you?”
Grandma plastered a shocked look on her face. It was fake. Totally fake. I’d seen her play shocked enough times to know it. She also splayed her fingers over her heart. Whenever she got crazy dramatic, I knew I was in for some trouble.
“Of course that’s not what’s in it,” Grandma said. “Just drink it.”
I laser beamed a dirty look in her. “This will help me get through the day? That’s all it is—an energy drink?”
Grandma folded her hands behind her plate. “Would I lie to you?”
“Yes.”
She wiggled her fingers dismissively and said, “That’s true. But I’m not lying to you now.”
A wave of fatigue washed over me. “I am kinda tired.” My gaze shifted to Milly. “You’re not doing that, are you? Making me feel tired?”
Milly finished chewing a bite. “I’ve got better things to do with my magic than manipulate you.”
“There you have it,” Sera said. “Sounds like they’re trying to be nice.”
“It’s like trusting a snake isn’t going to bite you,” I said.
“That’s true,” Reid said. “Don’t drink it.”
Sera rolled her eyes. “I wish you would so we could stop arguing about this and talk about something else.”
I picked up the glass. “Okay, fine.” I swirled the liquid. “Bottom’s up.” I gulped down the juice in about five seconds. It tasted a bit like grapefruit. Not bad.
Grandma eyed me carefully. So did Milly.
“How do you feel?” Grandma said.
“Like you poisoned me.” No one laughed. “Kidding. I feel fine.” My grandmothers shot each other looks of relief. “So I’m super annoyed that you two are hiding things from me, but I’m going to get over it and get on with the day.”
We finished up breakfast, and as I was heading out, I spotted Roman at a table. “Hey, there,” I said. “I’m surprised you didn’t call to tell me you were down here. You avoiding me or something?” I joked.
Kinda, but not really. I mean, the guy had said the married word the day before.
He smiled as he finished chewing a piece of bacon. “Not at all. I had to finish up some paperwork on Cobblestone, and then I was going to call you.”
I pressed the heels of my hands into the lip of a chair. “You know I’m super busy, what with not competing and all today.”
He chuckled. His eyes twinkled. “Tell me about it. Do you have to run off right now, or can you talk?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got a few minutes. I can talk.” I slipped into the chair. “What’s up?”
“Want some bacon?”
I waved my hand. “No thanks. I’m all baconed out. Grandma was hand-feeding me over there.”
He quirked a brow.
I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my chin in my palm. “So what’s up?”
He coughed into his hand. “I mentioned a pretty big word yesterday.”
I knitted my brows together. “Did you? I didn’t notice.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know you noticed. I’ve never once met a woman who didn’t have phenomenal hearing when it came to the word ‘marriage.’”
I yawned, pretending to be super bored with this conversation, when really my stomach was knotting into pretzels. “Oh that, yeah, I remember you saying something about it. You just said it in passing; it’s not like you really meant it.”
Right? It wasn’t like he really meant it.
Roman scratched his chin. “We’ve been together how long—”
“Ten months.”
“They’ve all been great,” Roman said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Don’t you want to keep them great? I mean, keep this whole dating thing going?
”
“We went to Paris together and didn’t kill each other then.”
I pushed off the table. “Of course we didn’t kill each other. We get along great.”
He stabbed a swollen sausage and sliced into it. Yummy sausage juice drained out onto his plate. “That’s what I’m saying. I’ve been thinking about our future.”
I nodded. “Yep. The future.”
He chewed the sausage while quietly staring at me. “You don’t want to talk about this.”
“No, no. It’s great. Let’s discuss the future.”
The truth was, I was scared to death. Butterflies beat a tornado into life on my inside simply thinking about it. This was a big step—a huge step. Not that I didn’t think Roman and I had a future together. I just didn’t want to think about making big steps like leaving my family, getting married—you know, huge changes.
I decided a change of topic was in order. My gaze flickered to his shirt. “That blue looks great on you.”
“You think?” he said. “It would look even better on you. You know, we go back to my room. I take it off, something happens in between and then you put it on and eat ice cream in bed all day.”
I giggled. Truly we were made for one another. It was obvious.
“Tell me what’s bugging you,” Roman said.
I shrugged. “Nothing.” I glanced at my watch. “Oh, I’ve gotta go. The competition’s about to start.”
I rose as Em quickly walked up to us. This couldn’t be good. Whenever Em arrived somewhere, it seemed like she always brought bad news.
Always. I’m not exaggerating. I wouldn’t do that.
Okay, so I would do that. But not about this.
Roman dragged his eyes from me and looked in her direction. His expression soured. See? He thought the same thing I did.
Em’s face twisted with worry. “Roman, come quickly.”
He tossed his napkin on his plate and rose. “What is it?”
“Jonathan Pearbottom’s at your cottage. He’s arresting your father.”
THIRTEEN
We rushed to the cottage. We found Richard Bane standing outside the door. Jonathan Pearbottom was securing him with magical handcuffs.
“Jonathan, what are you doing?” Roman fumed.