I crouched beside Trupti. “You stay here. I'm making a run for the scissors, but I won't leave you. I promise."
“No.” She held my arm in a viselike grip. “You can’t leave.” Her fangs appeared, daring me to try.
Uh oh.
I needed the scissors. I focused my will and tried to use telekinesis to pull the scissors to me, but they only shifted less than an inch. I had to try something else. Something that allowed me to be in two places at once.
“Trupti, stay calm,” I said. “I’m going to try something else.”
I sat on the floor beside her and began to slow my breathing—easier said than done with raging fruit all around us. I relaxed my muscles and concentrated on separating my conscious self from my physical self. Finally I stood and looked down at my body to make sure I’d succeeded. Trupti hadn’t noticed. She was too overcome with anxiety.
My astral self dashed between the banana and the apple and I heard the snap of their teeth as I moved past them. I reached for the scissors and prayed I’d be able to handle them. Marigold said I’d be able to manipulate physical objects, but we hadn’t actually gotten to that part yet.
I spun back toward the fruit and snapped the scissors in half so that I had a blade in each hand. At least they were industrial scissors. If I could take their attention away from Trupti, then she might regain her composure and be helpful. She was of no use to me huddled on the floor.
All right, banana, I said in my head. Time to split. I cringed at my own mom joke since Marley wasn't here to do it for me. It was probably for the best that my astral self couldn’t speak.
I sliced through the banana’s middle and it toppled over. The apple tried to bite me, but its teeth met with empty air. I jammed the tip of the blade into its side and twisted. Its scream was more high-pitched than I anticipated.
I hastened a glance at Trupti, who was staring gobsmacked at my slumped form on the floor beside her. I continued my attack, stabbing and slicing the fruit until they were nothing but small, squishy pieces on the floor. I felt a strong tug at the base of my spine and realized it was my body pulling me back. I’d spent too much time outside of it and it wanted me back. I walked over to my physical form and set the blades next to me before rejoining my body.
“That was incredible,” Trupti said, her voice trembling. “Truly. In all my years, I have never seen anything quite like it. For a vampire, that is saying something.”
My heart was racing and I gave myself a moment to recover. “I’m glad it worked. I was worried.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help to you,” she said.
The door to the gallery burst open, signaling the arrival of Sheriff Nash. He barely made it through the door when he saw the mess on the floor.
“It looks like a massacre in here,” he said. “What happened?”
Trupti hugged herself, still trying to calm her nerves. She told the story to the best of her ability, stopping for deep, cleansing breaths on occasion. She made me sound like a bona fide fruit ninja.
“You really did all that?” Sheriff Nash asked, glancing around the floor at the fruit remnants.
“Death by fruit wasn’t really an option,” I said. “The adrenaline kicked in.”
“Looks that way,” the sheriff said. “Any idea who may have done this to you?”
“It was Ashara,” Trupti said. “I know it.”
“Who’s Ashara?” I asked.
“Another artist,” the sheriff said. “Why do you think so? Are you two in an argument?”
“Not openly,” Trupti admitted. “She’s always been jealous of my career. And she didn’t attend my event.”
“Did she give a reason?” I asked.
Trupti huffed. “She claimed she had to practice for her own performance, but it’s probably because she was planning this attack and felt too guilty to look me in the eye. She even sent me a fruit basket as an apology gift. If that’s not evidence, I don’t know what is.”
The sheriff and I exchanged uncertain glances. It didn’t seem plausible to me, but I had no idea who Ashara was. Maybe these artist types were all nuts.
“Where’s the fruit basket now?” the sheriff asked.
“I threw it away,” Trupti said. “It was insulting.”
“Okay, listen. I’m going to need to call in my crew to comb the gallery for evidence,” the sheriff said. “Unfortunately, that means leaving everything in its current state for now. Can you handle that?”
She nodded. “I’ll go home and sleep, if that’s okay with you.”
“Do whatever you need to do,” he said, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. “Let me get you a glass of water.”
“The door is over there,” Trupti said, pointing. “There’s a kitchenette.”
I stayed with Trupti while the sheriff disappeared. I noticed that he made a few observations on his way to the back room. The drink was a nice touch, but I suspected it was more of an excuse to get the lay of the land. He returned quickly with a full glass of water, which Trupti gulped down greedily.
“Fear can make you thirsty,” the sheriff said.
“Like you would know,” Trupti said, handing him the empty glass. “You’re a werewolf and the sheriff. I highly doubt you’ve had much experience with fear.”
His expression darkened. “We all have our fears, Trupti. And yours is nothing to be embarrassed about. Our fears are often irrational.”
“That’s definitely true,” I said. “I used to be afraid of falling into sidewalk grates. I would walk around them no matter how crowded the sidewalk was. I took a lot of elbows to the ribs thanks to that particular fear.”
The sheriff frowned. “Okay, maybe that one you should be embarrassed about.”
“Hey,” I objected.
The sheriff turned his attention back to Trupti. “Is there someone you can call to escort you home?”
“I can do it.” Alec appeared seemingly out of thin air.
“How did you know?” I asked, incredulous. Exactly how far did his telepathy reach? Could he listen to me when I was home alone in bed? I shivered at the thought.
“I texted him,” Trupti said.
Phew. My body relaxed.
“Trupti, what happened?” Alec asked. He noticed the empty canvasses on the wall behind us. “Did you have another breakdown?”
Trupti’s dark eyes clouded over. “No breakdown, Alec. This was real and spectacularly awful. Ask Ember.”
I gestured to the remains of the fruit on the floor around us. “It was the Day of the Living Fruit around here for a good twenty minutes.”
“They had teeth,” Trupti blurted, and tears streaked her cheeks.
Alec placed a protective arm around her. “It’s all over now,” he said in a soothing tone. “Let me drive you home.”
“Thank you,” Trupti said softly, and leaned against his solid frame.
I watched as they left the gallery together. I’d never seen Alec in compassionate mode before. It suited him.
“They used to date, you know,” the sheriff said.
“I know,” I said.
He cocked an eyebrow, examining me. “They seem cozy now.”
“He’s being a good friend,” I said. “I expect nothing less from a gentleman like Alec.”
Sheriff Nash began poking through the debris, careful to keep his boots clean. “You really think he’s a gentleman?”
“I’ve seen nothing to suggest otherwise,” I replied. “He treats everyone with polite deference.”
“Polite deference?” he repeated with a slow grin. “Rose, you’ve got to stop thumbing through your thesaurus at night. Get a hobby. Or maybe a boyfriend.”
“It’s not me,” I said. “It’s Marley. Her vocabulary rubs off on me.”
“Oh, sure. Blame the child.”
I folded my arms and studied him. “Why do I get the sense that you expect me to be jealous of Alec and Trupti?”
He gave me a look of mock innocence. “Me? I didn’t sa
y that.”
“You implied it.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Must be your imagination. The one that thinks sidewalk grates are a menace.”
I shook a finger at him. “You’d better watch it, Sheriff.”
His mouth quirked. “Or what? You’ll use your fruit ninja skills against me?”
I moved to punch his arm just as the door opened, and the forensics team poured into the gallery. I pulled back at the last second. As much as the sheriff frustrated me, I didn’t want to disrespect him in front of his subordinates. I wasn’t sure why exactly. It never would’ve stopped me before.
“Time to get to work, Rose,” the sheriff said. “Look at the bright side. I guess you’ll have a new byline. Be careful. Bentley will start to resent you.”
“Bentley resented me the minute I stepped through the door.”
Sheriff Nash laughed. “Probably even before that.”
I didn’t argue. “I’m going home to shower.”
The sheriff pretended to hold his nose. “Good idea.”
I glared at him. “You’re very mature. You know that?”
He tapped the star pinned to his shirt. “Still the sheriff.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what this town was thinking.”
“Lighten up, Rose. You’re just upset because your boyfriend left with another woman.”
My eyes bulged and I balled my fists. “He is not my boyfriend.”
Sheriff Nash laughed and pointed at my face. “Do you know your eyes actually look more blue when you’re angry? How is that possible?”
I gave him a hard shove before stomping out of the gallery. He was lucky I had to leave the scissors behind as evidence or there may have been an ‘accident’ on my way out.
I hated to admit it, but I was finally beginning to understand my aunt’s attitude toward werewolves.
Chapter 6
Marley was on the edge of her seat as I shared the story of my art gallery adventure over dinner.
“I can’t believe it,” she said, her blue eyes shining. “I wish you had a video of it. Imagine the hits on YouTube.”
“I think it would frighten kids away from fruit for the rest of their lives. Parents would be outraged.”
“It sounds like the pear was the worst,” Marley said.
“That’s because Trupti hated pears the most.”
“What a weird hex,” Marley said. “Do you think the fruit would have been able to kill her if you hadn’t been there?”
“Probably not,” I said, although I wasn’t confident. “Teeth on fruit are downright scary, though.”
Marley pushed her peas around her plate. “Aren’t peas technically a fruit?”
“No peas were harmed in the making of today’s nightmare,” I said in my best television voice.
“I’ll never look at apples the same way again,” Marley said.
“You and me both.”
“So why would someone bring Trupti’s artwork to life?” Marley asked.
I scraped the last of my dinner off my plate. “She’s convinced it was a rival artist. Someone who wanted to frighten Trupti by confronting her with her worst fear. I’m going to pay the woman a visit tomorrow and see what I can learn.”
Marley sat in thoughtful silence for a moment. “If someone did that to you, what do you think would happen?”
“I’d fall down a sidewalk grate, naturally.”
Marley laughed. “Really? That can’t be your answer.”
I cupped her chin with my hand. “You don’t want to know my answer.” Not only because she was an anxious child, but also because my worst fear had nearly come true when Jimmy the Lighter showed up at our apartment to murder us. Losing Karl and my father was bad enough. Losing Marley was unfathomable.
Marley nibbled a piece of chicken. “I think mine would be stupidity.” She paused. “Or maybe falling from a great height. Or drowning.” She swallowed a gulp of chocolate milk. “Or a ghost taking over my body and pretending to be me.”
I eyed her curiously. “That last one is very specific.”
“I saw it on a television show once.”
“With Miss Kowalski?”
She nodded. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you that she let me watch it. I begged her.”
“Doesn’t matter. She should’ve known better.”
Marley shrugged. “Nothing you can do about it now.”
PP3’s ears perked up, followed by a knock on the door.
“No barking,” I said. “Must be a friendly.” I left the table and peeked out the window. “It’s Simon.”
Marley ran to join me as I opened the door.
“Hi, Simon,” Marley said.
“Miss Marley,” he said with a bow. “Miss Ember. My lady requests your presence in the main house in thirty minutes.”
“Both of us?” I queried.
“Both of you,” he said.
“Is this about my wand and cloak?” I asked.
Marley’s head swiveled toward me. “You got your wand and cloak? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve been waiting to show you when I had time,” I said. “I thought it would be a fun surprise.”
Marley folded her arms and glared at me. “We’re not supposed to keep secrets from each other. That’s your rule, remember?”
“It wasn’t a secret,” I insisted. “It was going to be a surprise.”
“Shall I inform my lady that you’ll attend?” Simon asked, unperturbed by our squabbling.
“Yes, we’ll be there,” I said.
“A bit of advice, Miss Ember,” Simon said. “Bring the wand and wear the cloak.”
“Yes, sir.” I saluted him before closing the door.
“Should we eat dessert before we go?” Marley asked.
“You’re a crafty one,” I said. “You know perfectly well Aunt Hyacinth will serve sweets.”
She gave me a sly smile. “I don’t know what you mean, Mom.”
“We don’t have time for double desserts. Finish your dinner and then we’ll need to make ourselves presentable.”
“Good point,” Marley said. “Your hair looks like it got trapped in the ceiling fan paddles again.”
“Hey,” I objected. “I can’t help when it’s windy.”
“You can help what you do about it when you’re indoors,” Marley pointed out.
I touched my hair and felt the tangle of knots. “Okay, you win. I’ll brush my hair. I don’t need Aunt Hyacinth staring down her nose at me.”
“She’ll do that anyway,” Marley said.
“You’re probably right.”
Marley was right. Half an hour later, I stood in front of Aunt Hyacinth in my silver cloak as she stared down her nose at me. She wore one of her usual kaftans—this one was a cheerful green color with a picture of an enormous white cat head on the back. If this look ever caught on within the coven, I’d be guaranteed a life of celibacy.
My aunt’s gaze was drawn to the wand clutched in my hand. “Interesting choice,” she murmured. “May I?”
I handed the wand to her. She studied it closely, like she was searching for hidden markings in the wood.
“It’s good craftsmanship,” she said, and handed it back to me. “Whatever persuaded you to choose silver?”
“We’re the Silver Moon coven,” I said. “My cloak is silver. It seemed fitting.”
“Indeed.” Aunt Hyacinth scrutinized the robe. “We’ll need to let the hem out a bit. You’re taller than the average witch.”
“Not as tall as your kids,” I said.
“No.” She wore a proud smile. “My children are exceptionally tall. The perfect height. Above average yet not so tall that they seem abnormal.”
“There’s nothing normal about them,” I said.
Aunt Hyacinth leveled a gaze at me. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean they’re like superheroes,” I said. “Each one is more powerful and more gorgeous than the last one. It’s unfair to the rest of the coven.�
��
“Yes, I’ve often heard that. Nothing to be done about it, I’m afraid. Some gene pools are worth swimming in.”
Ew. “Um, I guess.”
“Marley, would you like a Wish cookie?” Aunt Hyacinth asked. “Simon has a tray of them in the kitchen.”
“You definitely want one,” I told Marley. I’d had one at my first coven meeting and it was nothing short of amazing.
Marley’s eyes lit up. “I’m on it.”
“She’s very much like you,” Aunt Hyacinth remarked, once Marley was out of earshot.
“Not really,” I said. “I think all the good genes skipped a generation.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, darling,” my aunt said. “You have much to offer. While we’re on the subject, how was your session with Wren?”
“Good.”
She eyed me suspiciously. “That’s oddly brief for someone with your…verbal skills.”
“Is that your polite way of calling me a big mouth?”
Aunt Hyacinth suppressed a smile. “I would never say anything so offensive.”
“I’d like to see pictures of my parents,” I blurted. There you go, Aunt Hyacinth. Verbal skills in action.
She lifted one blond, sculpted eyebrow. “Pictures?”
“You must have a few packed away somewhere,” I said. “Or maybe you can magic up a few.”
“Magic up?”
“It’s a verb,” I insisted.
She clasped her hands in front of her. “What’s made you so eager to see them?”
I opened my mouth and closed it again. Was that seriously a question that needed an answer?
I tapped my chin, pretending to think. “Let’s see. What’s made me so eager? Well, my mother died when I was a baby. I have no memory of her, although everyone says I look like her. My father acted like his life began in New Jersey with me. The only times I ever saw him happy were the times I made him happy. Do you know how much pressure that is on a child? To be a father’s only source of happiness?”
I noticed the muscle in Aunt Hyacinth’s cheek twitch. “Do you think Marley feels the same as you?”
I blinked. “About my father?”
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