The Chimera Charm
Pearl Goodfellow
Copyright © 2017 by Pearl Goodfellow
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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You guys are magic. I mean it.
Thanks so much for reading, and keep up the sorcery.
Love, Pearl
Contents
Foreword
Also by Pearl Goodfellow
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Map of the Coven Isles
The Infiniti Chronicles Continues…
Sneak peek of book 7: The Warlock Weapon
Afterword
About the Author
Foreword
Dear readers,
I’ve crafted this series so that you can read each offering as a stand-alone. However, because I truly love the world of Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti, I have also created a back-story that will build throughout the series, along with deeper character developments, more in-depth world building, and evolving romantic relationships.
For this reason, it would be my recommendation that you read the series in the order they’re written. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on some read-worthy background story arc. If you do jump about the series in no particular order, I’m convinced you will still thoroughly enjoy the chronicles, and dare I say, you might want to know more about this zany, spirited world.
All this said, I do hope you enjoy the chronicles. I’ve never had so much fun writing before, and I have formed a deep and long lasting relationship with my characters, I swear. I wish they were my friends in real life! :)
Pearl
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Also by Pearl Goodfellow
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Chapter One
The sun was just setting as we strolled along the boardwalk toward the Sugar Dunes and the Mabon Fair. A perfect blood-red orb dipping below the watery horizon of the Harbinger Ocean. I felt overcome by the beauty of it. How this solar giant, in its fiery descent, showcased Gless Inlet’s beloved dunes so beautifully was beyond me. David and I walked in silence, my seven black cats (minus Jet) straining at the kitty leash David had fashioned for me. He called it the cat-o-seven tails; a singular strap with seven individual harnesses attached on the lower reaches. The improvised leash was supposed to make the cat’s easier to handle, but, as evidenced by the jumble of furry tails and legs before me, the cat’s still found a way to comically tangle themselves.
“Will you stop standing on my paws, you klutz?” Gloom spat at Fraidy, the most timid of my cats.
“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to blend in, you know?”
“Well, you’re not blending in, stupid. You’re cramping my style and ruffling my fur. So ...” My grumpy female feline ducked under her tether to untangle herself. She trotted, all hoity-toity, to the front of the clowder, lifting her tail in pencil-straight defiance as she departed.
“So ‘what’?” Carbon asked, catching up to his sister.
Gloom glanced back “So...you can kiss my black a--”
“Gloom!” I shouted in horror, hopefully interrupting whatever else was about to whip from her sharp tongue. She turned to give me stink-eye, but mercifully her tongue was still.
I glanced at David and offered him a sheepish smile. He barely acknowledged me; preferring to stare at his feet instead. My shoulders slumped. I was wearing the baby-blue cashmere sweater I’d picked up from Prettykins. I’d seen it in Pretty's window last month and knew I had to have it. However, I’d bought it with the express purpose of capturing the Chief’s attention for once. It wasn’t working. If David had noticed my new attire, he didn’t mention it. So much for Divinity Pretty's gushing about how it gave me a 'flattering accentuation of my curves,' I thought glumly. The dress shop owner probably praised and complimented everyone the same way. She had a bottom line to think of, after all.
Chief Para Inspector David Trew was my lifelong friend. But, he also happened to be the love of my life. I've never, ever told him this, of course. I mean, c'mon, it'd be a pretty pig revelation to dump on someone if they didn't feel the same way, right? And, so far, I'm not filled with the conviction that he does feel the same way. For a while there, I had suspected his feelings for me might have been mutual. The kiss. I felt a warm tingle thread its way through my chest at the memory of David's tender lips. We had been investigating the murder of Glessie Isle’s head alchemist, Aurel Nugget, together. During this particular investigation, however, my best friend also had to extinguish a balefire beacon --almost singlehandedly -- a horror that the mischievous Unseelie had set up on Phlange Isle. The beacon had wreaked chaos across the isles -- too many strange events to mention, but let’s just say that we were all severely affected by the queer happenings under the balefire’s brief reign. Anyway, I digress … so, before David had zoomed off to deal with the wretched beacon, he had grabbed me and kissed me. No warning. Just tugged me into him and kissed me hard on the lips. I’d been naive, I guess. I thought it was finally the start of something between us. Something that neither of us had dared to mention. But, now, post-passionate-kiss, a shared feeling we could speak of out in the open. But, no. David didn’t even so much as hint at the fact that our lips had, only recently, joined in warm union. I checked my friend from the corner of my eye. He seemed distracted. Distant. And I was finding it pretty depressing. Especially as I’d just forked out a decent sum for this stupid sweater. I’d may as well give it to Fraidy for his snuggly sweater-tent under the bed. After all, he had the remainder of my most expensive yarns under there already.
I stood still, deep in my morose thoughts, to give the kitties a chance to unravel themselves from their pile-up.
Thank goodness the regular Unawakened passersby couldn’t speak ‘cat,’ because my moggies were having a lively quarrel about who was getting in the way of whom right now. My cats are immortal, in case you didn’t know. Immortal and magical. And they can talk. A lot. Their collective name is ‘The Infiniti,’ or, as Onyx prefers: ‘The Lemniscate.’ Don’t mind Onyx; he’s unbearably old-fashioned and formal. But, I can see why he ref
ers to himself and his siblings by this archaic title. The lemniscate is the name for the symbol of infinity. The number ‘8,’ only horizontal; as if the numeral had fallen onto its side in a drunken tumble. The Infiniti also happened to have eight members. Although, my agoraphobic cat, Jet, was safe at home right now. He’d greedily consumed his allotted dose of catnip for the week, and, as he wasn’t allowed more, there was no way he had the courage to step into the outside world. Not without his ‘fix.’
David and I, each in our own worlds, crested the hill, the boardwalk leading down now, to a fiesta of lights, colors, music, thrill-seeking screams and heady food aromas. The Mabon Annual Fair. The layout of the fairground was magical havoc. Rides, game booths, food stalls, all jumbled up, and leaning against one another. The traditional carnival-piped music trilling in the background of this chaotic spectacle, with the backdrop of the dunes and the Harbinger ocean, was enough to pull me out of my funk. I had always loved coming to the Mabon Fair, and the bewitching riot before me was splendidly cheerful. Yes, Hattie. You’ve come here for fun, not to get to maudlin over the Chief Para Inspector of Gless Inlet. I straightened my back, and lifted my chin, forced a sunny smile and skipped down the hill after the cats, leaving David to ponder whatever the heck he was thinking about. The fair was in full swing, and I could feel its good vibes reaching out for me. And, By Brigid, I intended to have some fun. With or without David.
I heard my friend pick up the pace behind me then.
“Hattie, wait,” The chief panted.
“Oh, you’re back to the world of the living now, are you?” I couldn’t keep the acid tone out of my voice. I tried, but I couldn’t pull it off. I felt Midnight’s paw on my foot, kneading me into a calmer frame of mind.
“I’m sorry, Hat,” David offered. “I’ve been distracted, I know. It’s just …" He shook his head. "I think I might be coming down with something, I guess. Not feeling quite myself, you know?”
I searched my friend’s eyes, and I could see the weary truth glittering on the surface of his baby-blues.
“It’s okay,” I confessed. “I know you and your department is under a lot of strain these days. With all these murders. It’s hard not to feel the pressure from the island’s inhabitants when you know that inside they’re screaming ‘keep us safe.’” I reached and squeezed David’s arm, immediately sorry for my childish outburst earlier. Goddess, I could get so wrapped up in myself sometimes. I smiled at my friend and cast my eyes to the carnival.
“The Annual Mabon End of Summer Fair, Sir!” I bowed and swept my arm to the glory of the bright lights and the bustle of bodies below. David laughed, and this time his mirth reached his eyes. I relaxed a little. If, even as friends, we were going to have a good time. We were going to take our minds off murder for once.
We wandered closer to the throng of the carnival. A cherished yearly event for both tourists and residents alike, the Mabon Fair was the wrapping-up of summer. The fiesta’s origins were in religious worship, however. The fair had started its life as a celebration to the Goddess. Prayer tents, private worship stalls, and big-top churches competed for space among the food stalls and games of the day. It was kind of a festival of magical merrymaking. Apart from a few token prayer tents that harked back to the days of old, and the opening and closing ceremonies, the fair was now a mainly commercial outfit. Still, I loved Mabon. Probably more than Yule, even. I loved the way it marked the transition into a more introspective time. Fall. The time to harvest and gather, and spend time indoors, canning, pickling, preserving, knitting. All the industrious activities that helped you prepare for the colder, more isolated months.
Midnight trotted up alongside David.
“So, now you’re in a better mood, chief, What’s this I hear about Hagatha Jinx languishing in the Serenity Clinic on Pandora?” Midnight raised his whisker-eyebrows at David in question. “I heard it from some mudglumpers in case you were wondering,” he continued.
As only a weary cop could, my friend sighed and admitted, “Afraid it’s true, Midnight.”
“And how exactly did that malignant dwarf earn a stay at the recycling center?” Gloom all but spat. True, Hagatha was an incredibly short lady, but 'malignant dwarf?' Every one of her brothers, even Fraidy, gave a disapproving growl of their own.
Everyone's getting a case of bad juju.
“Funny how the right amount of money and connections can buy an insanity plea,” David said, becoming more animated than I’d seen him during the entire walk here. This bothered him. He was the Chief of the Para Police and having a known attempted murderer wind up in the plush services of the Serenity Clinic, (whose credo, by the way, was ‘The only crime here is suffering alone,’) must have made his blood boil. David had fully expected Aurel Nugget’s wife’s failed attempt at murdering her late husband would earn her a cell in Steeltrap Penitentiary on Talisman. But, no.
“Due to the recommendations of Dr. Skinsplit, and Morag Devlin's fierce defense, Hagatha was ruled to be suffering from PTSD from contact with the Fae.” He ran his hand through his hair, catching the edge of the white streak his hair had recently acquired. “Yep, PTSD from allegedly being coerced and bullied by the Unseelie’s. Hagatha Jinx was apparently so severely traumatized by her interaction with the faerie’s that she was deemed not of ‘sound mind’ when it came to plotting Aurel’s murder.” David concluded, his voice strained.
“What?” I asked in disbelief. The kitty chorus of disapproval showed my friend he had an incredulous audience. Seeing that Hagatha had deliberately sought out the Fae to put a contract on her husband; to end Aurel Nugget’s life, it didn’t seem possible that the tiny witch would get a ‘stay’ at Serenity. Oh, and that’s what they called your incarceration there; a ‘stay.’ The word 'sentence' was never uttered in its spa-like halls and Nordic relaxation areas. I felt for my friend. This was a hard one to swallow.
“Yes, it’s ridiculous. But the judge thought it sounded plausible enough to go for rehabilitation instead of incarceration. So, Hagatha has a one year ‘stay’ at Serenity, complete with a room overlooking the Crystal Sea to help her with her so-called recovery.”
David’s earlier bad mood made perfect sense to me now.
Midnight grabbed hold of the chief’s pant leg, forcing the chief to stop in his tracks.
“But, do you happen to know who Hagatha’s attorney was?” Midnight’s face broke into a crafty smile. The chief sighed and shook his head in warning at Midnight. “Don’t say it.”
“That’s right. Morag Devlin.” We all gasped. Midnight strutted, grinning proudly at the slick delivery of his intel.
“Wait,” I said, holding up a finger. “THE Morag Devlin who is currently defending Norris Copperhead, the REAL murderer of Hagatha’s husband?”
“The very one.”
Wow. Odd.
So, our last murder investigation, as I said, was that of Aurel Nugget’s. Aurel had been dispatched by his supposed life-long friend, Norris Copperhead. But at the SAME time, and entirely independently, Aurel’s vicious wife, Hagatha, had plotted with the Fae to have her husband killed. Poor Aurel. And, the thing is? He was a really nice man. I’d known him only briefly, but his altruism and kindness lived on in the memory those still alive. Such a loss.
I scratched my chin. We walked the last hundred feet or so to the fair slowly.
“Wouldn’t that be like a conflict of interest or something? I mean, the same target by two different killers, sure, but—“
“Two separate killers who acted independently of each other,” Onyx countered. “As such, there is no conflict of interest, despite the obvious connection of their mutual target; Nugget. Shame to lose a good man to such venomous hatred. "
“You ain’t lying, brother,” Shade piped up. “I mean, Copperhead was just pure evil behind that cheesy grin. And, Hagatha? You ask me; I’d say she was a worse bloodsucker than poor old Nugget’s vampire mistress.”
I had to stifle a smirk at Shade's quip. In the last few year
s of his life, Aurel had taken up with Carpathia Alecto, a Bavarian ex-priestess-turned-vampire. Weirdly enough, she also happened to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I was enough of a romantic to wonder briefly if there might have ever been a chance for Aurel and Carpathia. Another sad aspect of the case. The two were clearly and deeply in love. One good thing that DID come of Norris Copperhead being arrested was that Carpathia Alecto, in a surprise victory, won the Golden Chair at the Coven Isles Alchemical Society. Her alchemy entrance exam and her alluring persona made her a shoo-in. I smiled again. The first and only female member of the society, Carpathia was currently having a ball bossing all those learned men around. She was in her element, for sure. I knew inside she was sad at Aurel’s passing, but Carpathia knew how to put on a bold front, and make the best of things. So, I think we can all agree that holding the Golden Chair title is certainly making the best of things.
We joined the throng of people now, as we moved our way into the carnival’s heart.
“Come on guys!” I blurted out. “We’re here to have fun, not talk of murders and murderers. We’re at the fair, and there are no dead bodies here.” Everyone agreed, and with a new found pep to our step, we embraced the array of fairground attractions.
Until a dead body showed up, that is.
Chapter Two
The Chimera Charm Page 1