by Amy Boyles
“No wonder you didn’t catch one,” I said. “Those things are gone before you blink.”
“Yeah,” Roman said. “Maybe tomorrow there’ll be some.”
We started to walk back. I curled my hand through his arm and laid my head on his bicep. “Maybe. But for now I’m totally gross and need to get cleaned up. I can’t smell me, but I’m pretty sure I stink. You, on the other hand…you smell amazing like you always do.” That was true. Musky pine trickled up my nose. Roman always smelled good. How did he manage that?
“You don’t smell too bad,” he said. “Nothing a good pressure wash can’t fix.”
“Wow. You are seriously the man of my dreams.”
Roman gazed down at me. A flash of hurt marred his face for half a second, then it vanished.
I quickly tried to recover. “I mean, you are the man of my dreams. I was only joking.”
“Don’t worry about it, Dylan.”
“Great. You used my name. Now I know I hurt your feelings.”
He smiled sadly. “I’m an ex-assassin, remember? I don’t have feelings.”
I punched his arm. “That’s bull crap and you know it.” Something tickled inside my shirt. I scratched at it and felt a lump. “Holy cow.”
He quirked a brow. “What is it?”
I stopped and unfastened the top two buttons. I fished my hand over my collarbone and circled my fist around what had been tickling me.
“You got the basket?” I said.
“At your service,” Roman said, handing it to me. It had leftover food in it, but that was okay. He peeled back the lid, and I slowly opened my palm.
Roman whistled. “Well, looky there. You, my love, have caught your first Tempus frog.”
We walked past a lamp. I got a quick enough glance at the frog's back to see it had a few red spots. The frog itself was on the smallish side. I wasn’t sure if that would hinder how far it would take me back in time or not.
I closed my hand around the frog and dropped it into the basket. I snapped the lid shut quickly.
“Great,” I said, an idea forming in my head. “Let’s go see how far back in time this sucker will take us.”
SIXTEEN
“I can’t wait to watch you lick that frog’s back,” Roman said.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a frog.”
He smiled. “I know. I might take a picture.”
“Don’t you dare.”
We sat on Roman’s bed, me sweaty and ripe, while Roman looked fresh as a glass of sweet ice tea.
I opened the flap of the basket and peered inside. Yellow eyes blinked at me. “Here goes nothing.” I scooped the frog into my palm and brought it to my mouth. Once you’ve licked one frog’s back, it’s pretty easy to move on to another. I swept my tongue over the skin, which tasted like scummy pond water.
I waited for time to move backward. Instead my mind drifted, pushing into focus a picture of Henrietta. She was walking down the path of the gardens. A bubbling cauldron of emotions surged in her. I think she’d just finished talking to her mother, which would have been a few minutes after Roman and I saw her. Frustration and anger rose inside her.
Henrietta reached a patch of dirt and started clawing at it. My vantage point was basically over her shoulder, yet I could sense her feelings. A burst of glee filled her as her fingers dug into the patch of earth.
She brushed the ground away until I saw a glint of metal. It was dark, but I could tell it was metal—gold possibly.
Someone started laughing behind her, and Henrietta quickly recovered whatever she’d unearthed, piling dirt on top.
The world tilted, and I was thrown from the vision back into Roman’s bedroom.
I was lying on the floor. Hard stone wedged into my back.
Roman stroked my forehead. “Are you okay?”
I tried to process what I’d seen. My gaze darted from side to side as I replayed the memory. It was hazy, as if I couldn’t remember part of it, as if a good chunk of it was missing, but I didn’t know what.
“I’m okay,” I finally said.
“You fell,” he said. Roman leaned over me. His blond hair hung loose. The ends of it tickled my nose. Concern and something more quivered in his eyes. Was it fear? Was the great Roman Bane, ex-assassin and current chief detective of Silver Springs, Alabama, afraid?
“I’m okay,” I said, pushing myself up on the heels of my hands.
Roman pressed me back down. “Stay there for a few minutes. Let’s make sure you’re okay.”
I brushed his hand away. “Roman, I’m fine.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I’m okay,” I soothed. “Really. I’m not lying to you.”
He rose. “Let me get you some water. Don’t move.”
Well, I guess we know who won that argument. Score one for Roman. He brought me a glass and tilted my head so I could sip it slowly. To be honest, I did feel queasy. My stomach churned and flipped, but the water helped right what was off-kilter.
I sat up. “Better. I feel like myself again.”
“What happened?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t go back in time. I don’t know what kind of frog that is, but it’s not a Tempus frog. It didn’t show me the past. It showed me something else.”
Roman sat the glass on a table. “And that was?”
“A vision.”
He arched a skeptical brow.
“I know it’s weird, but that’s what happened. I didn’t see the past. Instead I saw Henrietta on the path where we left her. Her crazy scary giant mom was gone, and it was Henrietta, all alone.”
He yawned. “Fascinating.”
I smacked my lips. “It was because our little witch was digging something up.”
“An earthworm?”
I shook my head. “No. Not an earthworm. It was metal and quite possibly Never Forget.”
Roman paused. “Do you think you could find the spot again?”
I nodded. “You bet your Dickens I could.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Sure it is.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not a saying.”
“Anyway, I’m sure I could find it.” I thought about it for a second. “Pretty sure. I’m mostly sure.”
Roman shifted his weight and drummed his hand on his hip. “Okay. So are you sure, or aren’t you?”
“I’m sure.” I scooped up the Tempus frog or whatever it was and placed it in the picnic basket. “Do you think it’ll stay in there?”
“No.”
“What do you want to do with it then?”
“How about we put it back?”
I frowned. “This little bugger might just help us solve this mystery.”
“Bring him then. We’ll stop by the kitchen and get a container for him.”
I gave him a hopeful smile. “And some water?”
“I thought you didn’t like him.”
I ran a finger down the little frog’s spine. “Why isn’t it trying to escape?”
“Once you’ve captured them, they become docile.”
“Good to know. I’ve become kinda partial to this little fellow.”
Roman placed a hand on my back. “Come on. I’ve grown kind of partial to you, too. Let’s go dig up the garden.”
Smirking, I said, “Kinda partial? I thought you were more than kinda partial.”
Roman stepped around to face me. He hooked a hand on each of my shoulders and stared into my eyes with a fierceness to his gaze that sent a blaze of electricity streaking down my spine. “Kind of partial? Darlin’, I would fight through an army of men if you stood on the other side. I would dive to the bottom of the ocean if you were being held hostage there.”
“Oh, that’s kinda out there,” I whispered.
His grip on me tightened. “And I would fly to the moon and back just for a glimpse of your beauty.”
“Wow, you would do that?”
“I’d even travel to the center of the earth.”
&n
bsp; “Oh yeah, well, from what Grandma says, the queen who lives under the earth is a real pain in the you know what, so that is a huge compliment. Thank you.”
Roman shook his head. “Sometimes you just don’t get it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t get what?”
“The depths of my love for you.”
“We suddenly got very serious.”
“Darlin’, I’ve been serious. Ever since we went to Paris. Before then, or else I wouldn’t have asked you.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
He pulled me closer. Roman ran his lips down my jawline. Fire spread over my skin. My knees buckled. Roman curled his arm around my back.
“You are all I need and want,” he said.
“Steamy,” I whispered. “How did all of this suddenly get so steamy?”
Roman shook his head. “It’s just what you do to me.”
“Do we need to go dig up some buried treasure and keep the frog?”
Roman took the basket from my hands. He opened a drawer and deposited the amphibian inside. “Later,” he said, his voice husky.
I glanced down at my sweat-streaked shirt. “I need a shower.”
Roman grinned. “Then let’s go take one.”
It wasn’t until much later that we headed out to go search the dig site. Roman brought a flashlight. The lamp bounced along the path. I was still kinda woozy and giddy from all the Roman time I’d just experienced, so I clung to him like I was walking on air through the gardens.
“You know, I was serious when I suggested we think about the future,” Roman said.
What a way to sober up. I groaned. “I know you were.”
Roman turned toward me and planted a kiss on my forehead. “What’s so wrong with that?”
“It’s just a big move.”
“Buddhists think that life is change.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ve had lots of change in my life in the past year. I’m getting used to it. Besides, do you really think you know me well enough? What if once we got…you know…more serious, what if I turned into some crazy possessive woman who needed to know where you were at all times of the day and who you were talking to, and even what you were thinking?”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he said.
I narrowed my gaze and tried my best to look super mysterious. “How do you know that isn’t going to happen?”
“Because if it does, I’ll nip it in the bud first thing.”
“How?”
“I’ll spank you.”
I giggled. Couldn’t help it. I exhaled a shot of a sigh. “Why can’t I win arguments with you?”
Roman shrugged. “’Cause some arguments aren’t worth winning. I can tell those a mile away, and I usually crush them.”
I rolled the back of my tongue in mouth to prove how utterly annoyed I was with him. We reached a bend in the path. “Turn left. The spot is just up ahead.”
We found the patch of dirt. Roman handed me the flashlight. “Shine it on the spot.” I did as he instructed, and Roman proceeded to unearth whatever was buried below. It only took a few seconds for him to retrieve a golden trophy.
Never Forget.
Roman held it by the base. “Once this is dusted for prints, my guess is Henrietta’s will be all over it.”
I rubbed my arm. “So why’d she do it?” But something in that bothered me. I felt like I knew why she’d done it, but the memory just wouldn’t come. It was as if the frog had shown me the reason, but I couldn’t access the information.
Roman rose. “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”
Roman left to go find Pearbottom, and I returned to my room. Sera was still awake and reading a book, but Reid was fast asleep, snoring soundly.
Sera winked at me. “Been out having fun with your boyfriend?”
I toed off my shoes and chose to ignore her comment.
“What’s wrong?” she prodded. “Roman getting too serious for you?”
I scoffed. “No, and it’s none of your business.”
Sera folded her book and laid it flat on her chest. “Seriously? What’s wrong?”
“How do you know anything is wrong?”
“Because you’ve got that little crease between your eyes—the one you get when you’re worried about something. Usually it’s something you’ve made into a big deal.”
I glared at her. “Are you suggesting it’s something that’s actually not a big deal?”
Sera hooked her hands behind her head. “Right.”
I yanked my T-shirt over my head. “I’ll have you know it is super serious. Roman is talking about marriage.”
Sera’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
I threaded my arms through the sleeves of a light cotton nightgown and pulled it over my head. I fluffed out my hair. “Why is that so shocking to you? Only a few weeks ago you and Brock were talking about eloping.”
Sera rolled her eyes. “We weren’t talking about eloping, but we were talking about marriage. Then I decided I wasn’t ready. That’s as far as it went.” She knuckled to a sitting position. “But you and Roman? I mean, Roman is like so serious. If he’s talking about it, then he definitely wants to do it.”
I squeezed under the covers. “Are you saying that when Brock was talking about it, he wasn’t serious? ’Cause if that’s the case, I’m not so sure about him anymore.”
Sera laughed. “No. We were just sort of talking about changing our lives that way in general. I think we both know it’s coming; we’re just not sure about the logistics. Am I supposed to give up the bakery? Is he supposed to step down as king of the winged monkeys? It’s a lot for us to sort out. We still want to get married eventually, but for right now we’re not sure how to work it into our lives.”
“Just let the grandmas take over the bakery and you go be queen.”
Sera laughed again. “Yeah, right. They’d be serving burnt brownies every day. They’d probably even set the place on fire.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Yeah. Sinless Confections wouldn’t last five minutes.” I sighed. “Anyway. Enough about me and Roman. On the upside—or downside, however you want to look at it—I think we figured out who stole Never Forget.”
Sera’s eyes widened. “Who?”
“Henrietta.” I relayed the entire story to her and watched as her eyes grew to epic proportion.
“Wow. Who would’ve thought it?” Sera said.
“I didn’t,” I said.
“I guess we’ll see what happens in the morning.”
So we did. The next morning the entire castle buzzed with the news of Henrietta’s arrest. Apparently Lucinda had gone berserk in the melee and had threatened to sue everyone in the castle for mishandling of justice.
Whatever that meant.
Either way, it was the last day of the contest, and I was sort of ready. I guess. I wasn’t sure for what, but I was as ready as they came.
Damon Devlin walked past the breakfast table I was sharing with my family.
“Good morning,” I said.
He stopped. His gaze bobbed around the room nervously. “Morning,” he said.
“So lots of drama, huh?” I said.
Devlin slicked a hand over his head. “Yes, well, that’s how the competition is sometimes.”
“Not from what I’ve heard,” I said. “Seems like this year it’s more entertaining.”
“Glad we got the cup back,” Sera said. “Now we have a real prize for whoever wins.”
Devlin turned a deep shade of red at that. In fact, he nearly turned purple. “Yes, we do. I’ll see you ladies in the theater.”
Grandma wiggled her fingers. “Toodle-oo.”
Toodle-oo? I mouthed to Sera. She shrugged.
Reid tossed her napkin on the table. “We’d better get moving,” she said. “I plan on winning Never Forget today. I don’t want to be late.”
We shuffled from the table and headed over to the theater.
Roman found me
as I was exiting the dining room. He was leaning against a wall, carefully watching the dining room. He motioned for me to join him. I waved my family on and traipsed over to him.
“The cup checked out,” he said.
“So I heard. That’s good. So why’d she do it?”
Roman’s gaze drifted around the room. “Apparently, to get her mother to ease up on her. Henrietta thought that once the cup was stolen and there wasn’t a prize to win that Lucinda would drop it, not make her compete.”
“She was wrong,” I said. “Of course the irony is that she’s away from her mother now, since she’s going to jail.”
“Yeah. I think the poor girl was relieved.”
“That’s sad,” I said, meaning it. “Well, that’s one mystery solved.”
He nodded solemnly. “There’s still one more to get to the bottom of.”
Jonathan Pearbottom, witch police inspector, entered the room with a flourish of his cape. Who wears a cape in summer? Seriously.
“Roman,” Pearbottom said.
Roman straightened. He crossed massive arms over his swollen chest. “I know what you’re going to say. It’s about my father.”
Pearbottom nodded. “The witch police have officially taken Richard Bane into custody. In the next few hours he’ll be interrogated over the murder of his wife, Catherine, and the murders of his three daughters—Molly, Charlotte and Renee.”
Pearbottom left with the same flourish that he arrived in.
Roman turned to me. “I’ve got to go to police headquarters. You’ve got the ring. Where is it?”
I bit my lip. Where was it? I slid a hand down my pocket. Last time I remembered, I’d stuck it in there. Must have been in yesterday’s clothing. “It’s in my room.”
“You sure about that?”
I crossed my arms defiantly. “Of course.”
“Good. Keep it safe until I get back.”
I sighed. “You’re worried about your dad?”
He nodded. “If they push him too hard, it will break him. Crack him open, and my dad will never be the same.”
SEVENTEEN
Since I knew the pact ring was upstairs in my room, I decided to go to the theater. There was nothing like a good ole competition of magic to get my mind off things like marriage, lobotomies and what not.