by Amy Boyles
“Mommy, come watch,” Gabby called from the living room.
I grabbed my coffee and walked in. My heart nearly stopped. Gabby was levitating Vordrid in the air. Since Kate was in the house, Vordrid wouldn’t talk—that was the rule. So he couldn’t shout about his predicament.
But holy jeez, I kinda wish he would have.
I slid my coffee onto a bookcase and walked over to Gabby. “Put him down, sweetheart,” I whispered.
“Fly,” Gabby said.
“I think this will work,” Kate called. “Want to watch, Andie?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in. Give me just a sec. Playing with Gabby.”
I heard Kate approach. “Good morning, Gabby.”
I placed a hand on Vordrid. “Put him down.”
“Fly,” Gabby repeated.
Kate’s head popped over the wall molding. I held Vordrid fast. Gabby had him in vise. I couldn’t get him away from her.
“You letting your daughter play with a Magic 8 Ball?” she said, quirking a brow.
I laughed. “Yeah. Figured she might as well get ahead on asking questions that can’t be answered. You know, does so-and-so like me? Will I get an A on that exam without studying? That sort of thing.”
Kate came over. “I used to love these when I was a kid. Can I see it?”
Oh God, it wouldn’t move. The ball felt like it was stuck in cement. “Gabby,” I cooed. “Can Aunt Kate see it?”
“Fly,” Gabby said.
“Gabby,” I said, “would you please let Kate see the ball?”
Gabby shook her head. “Fly.”
Since my toddler wasn’t going to release her hold on the ball, I had to interfere with her spell. So, here’s the thing. It’s hard for one witch to counter another’s spell. Magic is personal, sort of like a fingerprint. Since Gabby and I were related, that would make it easier to break, as a stranger’s spell is more difficult counter.
I had to hope the fact that I was an older, more powerful witch would be enough to understand what she’d done and stop it.
With my mind I poked at my daughter’s spell, seeing where it could be broken. I found a weak spot and winked at it, severing Gabby’s tie to Vordrid.
Vordrid released. I gave him to Kate. “Knock yourself out.”
The doorbell rang. “Sheesh,” I muttered. “What else is going to happen?”
I glanced through the cutouts in the door and saw Stone on my porch. I blew my breath into my hand and smelled. Dear Lord, I could kill the dead with that. I cinched my robe, opened the door, and vowed not to get anywhere near him.
“Good morning,” I said.
He raked his fingers through freshly washed hair. The move made him look delicious, I had to say. “Morning.”
We stood for a minute, me dissolving into his silver eyes, him smiling at me, probably wondering why I was just staring at him, unable to speak.
I guess that’s what hot guys did to me.
“Who’s there?” Kate called. She bounded up beside me, took one look at Stone and said, “You’re just in time, I was about to work witchcraft on some lint. Come on in.”
Ten minutes later and I was pretty sure the only thing making the lint move was Kate breathing on it.
“I know it moved last night,” Kate said. “I don’t understand why it isn’t doing it now.”
I rubbed her shoulder. “It’s okay. Craft takes a while to learn—I mean, I’m sure it does.”
Unless you’re my two-year-old daughter; then for some reason you have a God-given knack for the stuff.
Kate shrugged. “I guess so.”
Dot tapped the kitchen counter. “Why don’t you try one more time?”
Kate cracked her knuckles. “Okay, I’ll give it one more go.”
I had a sneaking suspicion that this time it would actually work, thanks to good old Aunt Dot.
Kate flexed her fingers and placed a set on each temple. She stared at the lint as if she was going to burn a hole through it. I sneaked a glance at Dot and saw her fingers twitch.
The lint boinged like a Mexican jumping bean.
“I did it!” Kate fisted in victory.
Dot clapped her hands. “I knew you could.”
“Me too,” I said. “Great job.” I threw Dot a scathing look. She blinked at me innocently.
“I bet I could move something bigger now,” Kate said. “I wonder if I could move the recliner?”
Dot grabbed her shoulders and guided her toward the door. “I’d keep working on small things, if I were you. Perhaps a lemon?”
Kate nodded. “A lemon. I’ll go out and buy one right now.”
With Kate gone, I turned to our angelic visitor.
“Is this a social call or a work call?”
Dot spread her fingers over the newspaper on the counter. “I hope it’s a social call—an ice cream social call. You know, I always enjoyed ice cream socials. They’re so much fun.”
“Are you going to invite the town so that you can figure out who else might be a witch?”
Dot smiled whimsically. “You know, now that I think about it, that’s not such a bad idea.”
I threw out my hands. “Please don’t do that. I was only joking.”
“But Andie, we have to find the three, and I’ve got to put you in mortal danger so that you can break the curse of the handbook. That’s the test I was talking about. It’s the only way to save you.”
“Sounds more like a way to get me killed.”
Dot scoffed. “I’m your aunt. I would never harm you. Intentionally, that is.”
Vordrid drifted into the room with Gabby following closely behind. A blob of drool dripped down his side.
“Can someone please wipe me off? I’ve been manhandled by a toddler. I may need some time in my lab in order to recover.”
I sniffled a giggle. “You’re a great babysitter, Vordrid. Thank you.” I sponged off the drool and turned to Stone. “So, what’s going on?”
His eyes brightened with amusement. “You mean other than floating objects?”
I smiled. “I didn’t mean here. I meant, you must have stopped by for a reason.”
He picked an orange from my fruit bowl and tossed it from hand to hand. “I’m going over to talk to Jehoshaphat’s mother. Thought you might like to come.”
I clicked my tongue. “Oooh, this might be good. Yes, I’d love to join you.”
I showered in record time and as much as I wanted to apply enough makeup that I landed somewhere between trashy and angelic, I settled on powder, mascara, and lip gloss. Though I did straighten my hair, working the flat iron over it until it shimmered like glass.
I glanced in the mirror, swiping away a smudge of black just beneath my lash line.
“Angels aren’t allowed to copulate with humans, you know.”
“Ah!” I threw up my hands and whirled around. Dot sat on the bed, filing her nails. “What on earth are you doing in my room?”
She shrugged. “Just instructing you on the ins and outs, as it were, of human/angel relations.”
“Ever heard of knocking?”
“It’s underrated.”
“Right. Anyway, I’m not trying to seduce him,” I said.
“Is that why you’re wearing red lip gloss?”
I peeked again at my lips. “It’s barely tinged red at all. I don’t think I’m exactly saying ‘come take me’ or anything.”
“That’s good,” Dot said. “Because an angel that sleeps with a human becomes mortal. Of course, a sure way to know whether or not an angel is mortal is if they glow.”
I scoffed. “Glow?”
“Yes, Andie. Sometimes angels glow when they’re feeling all heavenly. Or working a bit of healing.”
I swiped a stray line of gloss from my skin. “Interesting. Besides, I don’t think it matters.”
“Why not?”
I smacked my lips. “Because he’s already fallen from heaven.”
Dot nodded. “Then those rules don’t count.”
We left in Stone’s new ride, an SUV that he drove much slower, which I approved of.
He handed me a plastic bag. “What’s this?” I said.
“In case you get sick.” He flashed me a wicked smile. “But I promise to try to drive slow.” He pressed a palm to his heart. “Scout’s honor.”
My own heart went pitter pat at that. I shoved it back down into the dungeon, where it wouldn’t be exposed and I couldn’t get hurt.
I sighed. I’d loved Dex so much. I didn’t want to live through losing someone again. After he died, I’d lay in bed every morning as long as I could imagining his fingers threading through my hair, his lips nuzzling my neck. A shiver raced down my spine. I shook the thoughts from my head.
“You know, that’s supposed to be two raised fingers for Scout’s honor.”
He shrugged. “Close enough.”
We pulled outside a small yellow house with gingerbread scroll running along the top. It was storybook pretty, with a picture window on one side.
“This is Jehoshaphat’s house?” I said.
“Yep. He lived with his mother.”
Stone parked, and I stepped onto the curb. A cool breeze threaded through my hair, plastering a lock to my lip gloss. I spit out a hunk.
“Eat hair much?” Stone said.
I rolled my eyes. “All the time. It’s my favorite snack.”
He smiled. “Mine too.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It’s your game; I’m just playing it.”
I shook my head. “There’s no game.”
He locked up the SUV. “Let’s go meet Mrs. Jehoshaphat.”
Stone rang the doorbell. I heard the shuffling of feet as Mrs. Jehoshaphat, presumably, approached. The chain lock tinkled and tumblers rolled as she undid the locks. The door opened to a mousy woman with light blonde hair twisted up into a bun.
“Hello?” she said.
“Mrs. Jehoshaphat? We were friends of Justin’s,” I said. “We wanted to ask you a few questions if you have time.”
She nodded. “Come on in.”
A few minutes later we sat with coffee cups in our hands in the delicately furnished living room. Mrs. Jehoshaphat had a love for all things porcelain that either portrayed animals or babies—which, in my opinion, meant she could collect just about everything ever cast in the breakable commodity.
“Justin was such a good boy,” she said, sniffling into a tissue. “He had a heart condition and wasn’t supposed to exert himself. As a child he avoided sports and got a decent job at the school. I always knew there was a possibility that he might pass sooner than me, but I never hoped so.”
She released a sob. I squeezed her knee. “I’m so sorry. He was a nice young man. I always talked to him for a few minutes whenever I saw him.”
Mrs. Jehoshaphat’s eyes brightened. “Would you like to see his room?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
She showed us into the dimly lit room. Rock posters covered the walls, and a few musical awards were displayed on shelves.
“He played the oboe,” she said, leaning against the door frame.
“Wow,” I said. “I didn’t know that.”
She brushed a speck of dust from her thigh. “I’ll leave you for a few minutes.”
I nodded. She walked away. I glanced at Stone. He brushed his fingers over his lips. “Mind trick,” he whispered. “Let’s see what we can find,” he said.
As quietly as I could, I opened dresser drawers, searching for something that would’ve made Jehoshaphat a target. All I found were socks, underwear and clothes—not exactly the kind of thing that puts you on a vampire’s list of treats.
After a few minutes I said, “Maybe this was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Stone thumbed a desk drawer shut. “Perhaps. I don’t see anything.”
I glanced at the bed. Justin’s oboe case lay at the head. On a whim I snapped the locks and opened it. The shiny lacquered instrument was beautiful. I ran a finger along the rim of the bell and tugged it out, placing the entire piece on the bed.
I felt along the soft lining until I came to a cut in the fabric. “What’s this?” I whispered. I felt inside the hole until my fingers brushed an edge. It only took a second to retrieve what Justin had hidden.
“What’s that?” Stone said.
“A picture.” I flipped it over and gasped.
Stone crossed to me. “What?”
My gaze traced over the couple in the photo. Justin was on one side with his arm around a gorgeous girl. His lips were locked on her cheek.
“Look at this,” I said.
Stone’s eyebrows rose. “So Justin knew the babysitter.”
“And more than that,” I said. “It looks like they were dating.”
SIXTEEN
“Desire can either fuel magic or destroy you.”
—The Witch’s Handbook
* * *
“What do you want to do now?” I said to Stone after we left Mrs. Jehoshaphat’s house.
Stone shoved his hands in his pockets. “How about we go get some lunch?”
My stomach growled right as he said it. I smiled. “Perfect timing.”
We hit Mouth of the South back in the Red Brick district. The place was a staple in town and known for the best sandwiches around.
I slid into a booth and decided breaking bread over a meal was the best way to figure out everything I needed to know about Stone.
Hey, I could dream, couldn’t I?
“So what’s your story?” I said.
He lowered his voice. It came out husky, dark, and dreamy. “You want to know my deepest, darkest secrets?”
I tugged on my curls. “I figure if we’re partnering up, I get dibs on information.”
Stone leaned back and drummed his fingers on the tabletop. His gaze flickered around the room, and then it landed back on me. “What do you want to know?”
“How’d you fall?”
His lips quirked. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve always found it’s good to get right to the point.”
I shrugged, trying to play bashful. “How would I not want to know that? You’re an angel,” I said, leaning in. “It’s the first question that comes to mind.”
“Okay.” He shook his slash of bang from his eyes. Rrrrow. “How about we play a game for it?”
It was my turn to do some major eyebrow quirking. “A game?”
Mischief danced in his eyes. “I tell you something. In return, you tell me something.”
I thought about it for a minute. “Sounds good. You first.”
A waitress brought our sandwiches. “Talk of the Town?”
I raised a hand. “That’s me.” I took the basket that held a Reuben on rye.
“And you must have the Tattletale,” she said, eyeing Stone as she handed him his sandwich. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No thanks,” I said.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she repeated to Stone.
He flashed her a smile that was a bit too nice in my opinion. “That’s all,” he said.
She left, bottom lip pouted out. Sheesh. Apparently I wasn’t the only one hot for the angel. He was tall with that thick shock of dark hair, those gorgeous eyes, perfect teeth, straight jaw—he was seriously a superhero in terms of good looks.
I wondered if he was a supervillian in bed.
I smacked my forehead.
“You okay?” Stone said.
“Yeah,” I said. “There’s a stupid fly in here.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“It must be invisible to angels.” I cleared my throat. “So anyway, what happened? What’s the story?”
Stone picked up his sandwich. “I did something I shouldn’t have done.”
“Oh?” I said.
He coughed into his hand. “I’m not allowed to say.”
“Ugh! No fair!”
He shook out his napkin. “Sorr
y. Some things are private.”
“Hmm,” I said.
He shrugged. “Plus, you only get one question at a time.”
Great. Time to spill beans about myself. “Shoot.”
“What’s the deal with The Witch’s Handbook?”
I laughed, glancing up at the ceiling. “Ah, the mysterious handbook. Of course, that’s always what folks want to know. Okay, when you become a hunter, you get a copy of the book in a ceremony that literally ties it to you. That’s why whenever its power is used, it sucks away some of my life force. It also makes me a little psychic. I can ask questions, and in a limited capacity, the book can answer. It can’t tell me the future and it can’t reveal the past, but it can help me with the now.”
He quirked a brow. “So it’s tethered to your life?”
I smiled. “Nope. That’s another question. Your turn.”
“I get the feeling you like to play dirty.”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “I get the feeling you might be right.” I took a bite of my sandwich. The tang of sauerkraut hit my tongue. I welcomed it.
“So what’d you do that was so wrong?”
His face darkened. “If you were meeting someone for the first time, would you tell them your deepest, darkest secrets?”
Whoa. Okay. Touchy subject.
“Next question,” he said.
I had to rack my brain on that one. “How old are you?”
“This again.”
“Yes.”
Stone raked his fingers through his thick locks. “I don’t know. That’s the honest truth. We don’t have ages.”
“That’s an easy out.”
Lettuce crunched as he bit into his sandwich. He chewed for a minute before asking, “So the book is tethered to you?”
I nodded. “Right. When I became a hunter, the guide was fused to my soul, my spirit. When I use it, it takes part of me with it. That’s how it sucks away my life. When I summon my own magic, that’s different. I use one form of energy and transfer it into another—like water in the air. Alabama is perfect for grabbing water in the form of humidity and transferring it into magical energy.”
“Interesting,” he mused. “Your turn.”
“Do you like earth?”
Stone smiled. “More than you know.”
A chill raced down my spine as he held my gaze. I cleared my throat. “Your turn.”