Bat Out of Spell
Page 12
“Oh, geez!”
The creature – a mix between what looked to be a bad gremlin and a stoned Godzilla wannabe with pink claws – didn’t appear afraid as he stared back. He sat in the filthy water, which had somehow turned green, and let loose a loud belch.
“Oh, great.” I jerked up my head and glanced around, making sure I remained alone before speaking. When I glanced back down I found the creature had shifted so he was leaning back and I could see his … for the love of the Goddess, please tell me that’s a tail! I slapped my hand over my eyes and did my best not to panic. “Why are you here?”
I didn’t know if the creature would answer. In truth, I wasn’t sure it could answer. Not everything that crawls through the door has vocal cords. Thankfully for me – or maybe, upon further reflection it wasn’t something to be thankful for at all – this creature had the gift of conversation.
“Hello there, sugar.”
Oh, I wanted to find a hole – a different hole, mind you – and crawl inside. This is not how I envisioned spending my day. “What are you?”
The creature raised a slimy green hand and held it palm up. “What are you?”
“I’m an … Aquarian.”
“That means you’re headstrong, sarcastic, temperamental and sometimes aloof.”
Hmm. I didn’t expect him to know anything about astrology. “Sure. And what are you?”
“I’m a Scorpio.”
I waited for him to continue.
“That means I’m focused, brave, jealous and a little manipulative.”
Oh, for the love of all that’s witchy. “That’s fascinating and it makes me want to buy a book on astrology.” That was a total lie. “I’m more interested in what you are. Like … I’m a human. What are you?”
“You’re not human.”
“I am so.”
“You are not.” My new friend made a face. “You’re a witch. You’re one of the ones from the school, the gate watchers. Apparently you’re not doing your job, because I walked right through the gate.”
I narrowed my eyes. Could that be true? Did the gate somehow blow open a second time? I instantly tossed out the notion. If the gate were fully open, we would be dealing with a lot worse than stinky lizard monsters in the wishing well. No, he was another escapee. He made a hole, crawled through it, and it was my job to put him back.
Too bad I had other things on my mind.
“How long have you been here?”
“Oh, not long.” The creature splashed in the water, making the smell double … and momentarily remind me of waterlogged cheese left out in the sun for too long. “I’m thinking about making this my new home. What do you think?”
“No.”
“I know it doesn’t look like much, but if I knock out a wall and dig a bit … I think it will be quite posh.”
“Absolutely not.” I was firm. “You can’t stay here.” And by that, I meant he couldn’t stay on this side of the gate. It was probably best not to bring that up right now, though. “You have to find someplace else. If the locals see you … .”
“I know I look a bit different, but I have a lovely personality.”
“You smell like athlete’s foot mixed with rotten cottage cheese.”
The creature smiled, showing off a row of razor sharp teeth that made me think taking him down wasn’t exactly going to be easy. “That’s my signature fragrance. I’m thinking of selling it to fund my well renovations.”
Oh, now he was just messing with me. “Listen … scaly thing … you can’t stay here. I have no idea when you decided to move in – or why, for that matter – but you can’t stay here.”
“My name is Odactortim.”
“What’s an Odactortim?”
“That’s my name.”
“I’m just going to call you Tim.”
“Laziness is ugly.”
“I’m fine with that.” There was no way I was going to debate my personality flaws with a scaled creature who wanted to expand my wishing well so he could live in it. “You can’t stay in here. I mean … you have to stay until dark because if someone sees you wandering around it will create a panic. After that, you’ve got to … you know … vamoose.”
“I don’t believe I’m going to agree to your terms.” The creature’s smile was back. “I’m happy here and there’s nothing you can do to force me out of my new digs. I mean … absolutely nothing.”
We’d have to see about that. For now, I had no choice but to let him be. I couldn’t very well engage in a magical battle when someone could walk or drive by at any moment. I would have to come back to force a relocation after dark.
“Just don’t get into trouble. And try to do something about that smell,” I ordered, taking a step away from the well. Something occurred to me before I could leave, and I peered over the edge again. “What do you eat, by the way?”
“Are you asking me to dinner?”
“Not last time I checked. You don’t eat people, do you?”
Tim made a face. “Of course not! Who would eat people? That’s absolutely disgusting.”
“Great.” Whew! That was a relief. One less thing to worry about.
“I eat babies. They’re much more tender. They’re delicious with barbecue sauce and cooked over an open fire. I’m looking forward to sampling the local cuisine starting tonight.”
Son of a … ! I totally should’ve seen that coming.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned, extending a finger. “You’re not allowed to eat babies.”
“We shall see.” Tim closed his eyes and sighed as he tried to get comfortable. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s my nap time. You’re ruining the vibe of my new place. Next time you want to stop by, bring a housewarming gift.”
The next time I dropped by I was going to bring a sword and magical trap. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
Tim was already softly snoring.
IT WASN’T EXACTLY EASY to concentrate on computer work when I had a baby-eating lizard monster living in my wishing well, but I’d managed to push Tim out of my mind long enough to Google Charles Whitney. What I found wasn’t exactly the stuff of fluffy dreams and cloud dancing.
Charles Whitney was considered a shark in the business world and a paragon of virtue in his private life. I couldn’t find any gossipy whisperings about his mistress, who happened to be the same age as his daughter and apparently five apples short of a pie.
He was a broker, although I didn’t know everything that entailed, and his claim to fame was making his clients extremely rich while helping them dodge taxes. No, seriously, that was all out there for public perusal and apparently he was proud of it.
I didn’t know what to make of it.
I was so lost in my research that I didn’t hear the front door open or notice the shadowy figure was almost on top of me before my senses kicked in and I lashed out with my foot to kick whatever it was – perhaps Tim decided I looked as tasty as a baby – in the knee with enough force to cause the interloper to cry out and drop to the ground with a loud thud and whimper.
Unfortunately for me, my new visitor wasn’t Tim but Augie. “What are you doing?”
I hopped to my feet and grabbed his elbow as he grunted and tried to straighten. My kick was straight and true, and he was probably lucky I had a bad angle or we would be waiting for the ambulance cart about now. “Have you ever heard of knocking?”
I helped Augie to a chair and knelt so I could look at his knee. He was wearing jeans, so that wasn’t an easy task. Without thinking, I started at his ankles and slid my hands under his jeans. I didn’t notice how inappropriate I was being until he squirmed when my hands hit his calves.
“Knock that off!” Augie barked, causing me to jerk back.
“I was trying to see if I broke anything.” I slowly withdrew my hands, hating the way my cheeks flushed as I fought to gain control of my senses. His skin shouldn’t have been that smooth … or hot. Sure, he had hairy legs, but he was a dude. That was e
xpected. “I wasn’t trying to feel you up or anything.”
“I didn’t say you were trying to feel me up.” Augie looked as uncomfortable as I felt. “I just … I’m ticklish.”
“Good to know.” I blew out a sigh as I found the courage to meet his gaze. “Are you in pain?”
“I’m with you, aren’t I? That typically means I’m in pain.”
I pursed my lips. “I was asking if I should call for the ambulance.”
Augie made a face. “Absolutely not. That will totally ruin my street cred.”
“You’re a rent-a-cop at a resort that caters to plastic surgery addicts. You don’t have any street cred.”
“Says you,” Augie shot back, his temper flaring even as the blush I caused to flood his cheeks when I reached into his pants fled. “I’ll have you know that everyone in town thinks I’m a total badass.”
“Uh-huh.” That was the most ludicrous thing I’d ever heard and only an hour before I’d been having a discussion with a lizard creature that had taken up residence in a wishing well. “I’m sure everyone trembles in fear when you’re around.”
“They do.”
“I just said that.” I slowly made my way around to the opposite side of my desk and smoothed my hair as I sat. “So … um … what are you doing here?”
“Being a badass.”
I couldn’t hide my smile. “Other than that.”
“Checking on you,” Augie answered without hesitation. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t get into any trouble when you decided to track down Charles Whitney. I heard the Beachcomber Resort had a fire drill this afternoon and I assumed that was because of you.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“Are you saying it wasn’t because of you?”
Not directly. “I had nothing to do with the fire alarm going off,” I supplied. “I was out there, but I spent most of the morning watching Charles Whitney’s room from the beach.” That wasn’t a lie. “You can’t blame the fire alarm on me.” That, of course, was only half a lie.
Augie didn’t look convinced, but he let it go. “Well, did you talk to him? Did he have anything good to say?”
This was a sticky situation and I wasn’t sure how to respond. “I haven’t talked to him.” It seemed the easiest way to go. “I’m not sure how to approach him. I’m conducting research right now and then I will formulate a plan.”
“Well, keep me updated for when this plan comes to fruition. As for the other thing … .” He trailed off, leaving me confused.
“What other thing? I didn’t realize there was an other thing.”
“It’s about the smell.” Augie shifted in his chair, discomfort obvious.
“What smell? I showered today.” It was only after I uttered the inane line that I realized what smell had caught his attention. Tim. The creature in the wishing well. The smell had spread beyond my front lawn, far enough that someone at the resort complained even though the building was located a good distance from the resort’s property line. Crud on toast.
“I didn’t say you smell,” Augie said hurriedly. “You actually tend to smell nice … like coconuts and lime.” He shook his head to dislodge whatever fog he found himself in. “I’m talking about the smell outside. I think you might have a gas leak or something.”
Uh-oh. The last thing I needed was Augie calling the gas company because he was worried about me. I had to turn this around. “Oh, I know what smell you’re talking about.”
“You do?” Augie leaned forward. “Where is it coming from? Something didn’t die out there, did it?”
“It’s not coming from here at all.” I decided to force the issue because I didn’t know what else to do. “I’m pretty sure it’s coming from those mud pits to the east of the resort.”
Augie made an incredulous face. “It is not. I followed the smell here.”
“I think you just came here because you wanted to see me.” I backtracked quickly. “I mean … I think you came here because you wanted to get information from me.”
“No, that was only part of the reason.” Augie crossed his arms over his chest. “Seriously, what is that smell?”
“It’s coming from the mud pits.”
“No, it’s coming from your property.”
“The mud pits.”
“Your property.”
I slammed my hands on my desk and let my eyes fire. “The mud pits!”
“Ugh. I don’t even know why I take the time to talk to you sometimes.”
“That goes double for me.”
Fourteen
I stopped by the wishing well long enough to give Tim a firm warning on my way out.
“You’re starting to attract attention. I suggest moving as soon as darkness falls. The woods – far, far away from town – are always a good bet. I would get out while the getting is good.”
Tim lazily flicked his forked tongue. “I can’t leave my new home. I haven’t even decorated yet.”
Ugh. He was going to be a problem. “Fine.” I huffed irritably as I scuffed my foot against the ground. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. This won’t end well.”
“I’ll invite you over for tea and finger foods once I have an opening in my schedule.” Tim beamed so widely it made him look all the more evil. “Have a nice night.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I turned to leave and then stopped myself. “When you say ‘finger foods,’ you don’t mean actual fingers, do you?”
“The secret is in the sauce.”
I felt sick to my stomach as I buzzed along the side road that led to my house, parking in the driveway and tilting my head to the side as I paused on the front porch. I was agitated, although not in the sense that someone had invaded my personal space and needed to be taken out. Still, it couldn’t hurt to check. My safe place remained quiet, and I knew the only thing I’d have to contend with upon entering would be Swoops.
I dropped my messenger bag on the couch and frowned when I realized the panties and bras had been shifted from their previous locales into a pile in the middle of the room. It was a vast improvement from how things had looked when I’d left, but it was hardly how I wanted this to go.
“Is there a reason you couldn’t have taken this upstairs?” I asked Swoops as he poked his head out from his corner hammock.
I was too tired. My blood sugar crashed hours ago. Death is imminent.
“Oh, don’t start. I’m barely through the front door.” I made a face. “You’re not going to starve to death. In fact, you’re in danger of being wider than you are tall these days. I’m starting to think you need to go on a diet.”
The indignant noise Swoops issued told me exactly what he thought of that suggestion.
“I’m not kidding,” I called out as I scooped up the pile of laundry and moved it to the basket sitting on the end table. I’m not the best housekeeper, so the laundry would most likely remain there until I got tired of going commando. “The last time you had a vet appointment I was told bats aren’t supposed to be fat. It never happens.”
I’m not a normal bat. I’m special.
“You’re definitely special,” I muttered under my breath. “I kind of want to send you to a special school you’re just so darned … special.”
Swoops ignored the dig. I’m not going on a diet. Diets are for quitters and I’m not a quitter.
I didn’t want to laugh. It would only encourage him, after all. I couldn’t help myself, though. “We’re at least going to start introducing more fruit into your diet.”
Great. Blueberry pancakes.
I shook my head. “Just blueberries.”
I’m open to negotiations … as long as there’s cake with my blueberries.
“We’ll talk about it later.” I flopped on the couch and planted my feet on the coffee table as I ran my rather long day through my head. I was so lost in thought I almost didn’t notice when Tut wandered into the room and hopped on the chair across the way. Had he been a normal cat – one with fur and cute
little markings – I probably wouldn’t have paid him any heed. But he was hairless and freaky, so I simply glared once my heart rate returned to normal. “Who invited you in?”
“I’m not a vampire. I don’t need to be invited in.” Tut was blasé as he kneaded his claws into my chair. “You’re late this evening. I thought perhaps you might find someplace else to sleep.”
“And where would that be?” I got the distinct impression the sphinx cat was trying to force me out of my own home and I was decidedly uncomfortable with the realization.
“August Taylor’s house.”
The simple response was enough to throw me for a loop. “Excuse me?”
“Everyone in town is talking about your new romance.” Tut purposely snagged his claws on the arm of the chair and gave them a vicious tug. “People are saying they knew it was coming and they can’t figure out why it took you so long.”
I was mortified. “Are people really saying that?”
“Of course. I only report things I’ve actually heard. I don’t deal in make believe.”
That was rich coming from a talking cat. “I don’t understand why people would say that.” My stomach flipped as I uneasily got to my feet. “Augie and I have always hated one another.”
“Hate is a strong word.”
“Fine. We’ve vehemently disliked one another.”
“Which is another way of saying you have chemistry,” Tut noted. “You fight because you like the little thrill it gives you. Now it seems you want to see what other kind of thrill he can give you.”
Oh, well, that was enough of that. “You’re wrong.” I scorched the cat with a harsh look. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re only here because you know it will drive me crazy.”
“That sounds very unlikely.”
“Listen, you bald little devil … .” I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence – which was going to be mean and impressively threatening – because the wine bottle on the desk started squawking to let me know I had an incoming call. It wasn’t just any call, mind you. It was from the home office. We all had an enchanted item that was cursed by our coven to serve as a means of communication in case of emergencies. I picked a bottle of wine because talking to those women made me want to drink. I thought I was being sarcastic at the time. Now I realize talking into a wine bottle simply makes me look like a drunk.