All My Witches (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Book 5)

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All My Witches (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Book 5) Page 19

by Amanda M. Lee


  “Oh, well, this might be fun.” Landon gave Aunt Willa a pinched smile. “How are you, ma’am?”

  “The name is Ima Doodyhead,” Aunt Willa barked. “I’ll be the one making sure that Alexis Kane finally pays for the damage she’s done to this world.”

  I tried to keep a straight face. No, really I did. The second my gaze snagged with Thistle’s, though, we burst into hysterical laughter.

  “Ima Doodyhead? That’s probably the best name I’ve heard since I got to this place.” I felt Landon’s shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he tugged me back against him. “Well, Ms. Doodyhead, how can we be of assistance?”

  “You’ll all be taking the stand,” she replied. “We need your testimony to make sure that Alexis doesn’t manage to walk away … again.”

  “Just out of curiosity, how many times has she been on trial?” Landon asked.

  “Thirty-six.”

  “Of course.” Landon pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “What do you want us to do?”

  “I merely want you to tell the truth when it’s your turn on the stand.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  Landon exchanged a weighted look with me before nodding in capitulation. “Okay then. Let’s start testifying.”

  SAM WAS UP FIRST.

  It made sense. Aunt Tillie wanted to build tension, so that meant she was saving those of us she really wanted to torture until the end. I knew I’d be one of the last to go. I figured Thistle might be the ultimate witness. There was a good chance it might be Landon, too. I wasn’t sure which outcome would serve us better.

  As for Sam, he looked so tired I almost felt sorry for him.

  “What can you tell us about your interaction with Ms. Kane?” Aunt Willa asked, pacing the floor between Sam and Aunt Tillie. Aunt Tillie sat in a huge reclining chair behind the defense table, what looked to be an entire team of high-priced lawyers helping her along, and she appeared more amused than worried.

  “I have no idea,” Sam answered. “You need to be more specific.”

  “Okay, more specifically, what did you see at the cabin when you went with your friends to apprehend Ms. Kane?”

  “Oh, well, her more evil triplet led us to the cabin and then magically disappeared at the same time her most evil triplet took off in the woods. Then she walked out of the cabin with a ray gun and Thistle tackled her. Then we miraculously ended up here.”

  “And who is Thistle?”

  “Oh, right.” Sam searched his memory. “Cora Devane. She tackled Ms. Kane.”

  Aunt Willa smiled. “Thank you. No further questions.”

  “That’s it?” Sam moved to stand, but a member of Aunt Tillie’s dream team held up a hand to still him. “That’s not all. I should’ve known.”

  “I have just one question.” The man had broad shoulders and a bushy beard, sparkplug eyebrows and a smarmy smile. I disliked him on sight. “I’m Reginald Winthrop Warren Windbag Jr.,” he introduced himself. “I’m lead counsel for Ms. Kane.”

  “Your name is Windbag?” Sam smiled. “That’s just … awesome.”

  Reginald ignored the dig. “As I said, I have only one question for you.”

  “Great.”

  “How long have you hated the defendant?”

  Whatever question Sam was expecting, that clearly wasn’t it. “I don’t hate her.”

  “Do you like her?”

  “Not right now.”

  “So how long have you hated her?”

  Sam shrugged. “About three hours.”

  “No more questions, your honor.”

  “You may take your seat, Mr. Wharton.”

  The judge spoke for the first time, and I couldn’t help smiling when I recognized Chief Terry. He looked grave, a gavel gripped in his hand as if he were really listening, and I found the entire scene adorable.

  “He’s a vampire by night and a judge by day,” I mused. “That’s kind of fun.”

  “Yes, I can’t wait to tell him about it.” Landon tightened his grip on my hand. “One down. Five to go.”

  “Six to go,” I corrected. “Aunt Tillie has to take the stand, too. She’ll be the finale.”

  “I can’t wait for that.”

  MARCUS’ QUESTIONS WERE EVEN sparser than the ones hurled at Sam.

  “How is it that you grew to be so handsome?” Aunt Willa asked.

  “Just lucky, I guess.”

  “No further questions, your honor.”

  “I have no questions for this witness,” Reginald said.

  Thistle made a disgusted face. “I always knew he was her favorite. She’s not even torturing him a little bit.”

  “You sound disappointed about that,” Landon said dryly.

  “It’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair,” I supplied. “Didn’t Aunt Tillie always tell us that?”

  Thistle wasn’t about to be appeased. “I’m totally going to choke that old woman to death when we get home. I’m not kidding. I’m really going to do it this time.”

  We both knew it wasn’t true, but it was a nice thought.

  CLOVE WAS A BUNDLE OF nerves when it was her turn. She squirmed as she tried to get comfortable on the witness stand. Aunt Willa’s stance was much more aggressive when she approached.

  “Ms. Cramer, what can you tell us about your interaction with the accused?”

  “Not much,” Clove replied. “She’s been mean and weird … and she stole a diamond. I’m not even sure I understand most of this world. I think you should ask someone else, because I don’t like being up here.”

  “You have to answer the questions being posed,” Chief Terry ordered. “That’s your responsibility as a witness.”

  “I don’t like it when people stare at me,” Clove shot back.

  “Well, that’s too bad.” Chief Terry was firm. “You must testify. If you don’t, I’ll hold you in contempt of court.”

  Clove did exactly as I expected and burst into tears. They weren’t real, of course. She could’ve been a soap opera actress, given her propensity for manipulating emotions. She’d been perfecting the art of crying on cue since we were kids. She’d gotten quite good at it.

  “Why on earth are you crying?” Aunt Willa complained.

  “I’m not crying.” Clove swiped at her cheeks. “My eyes are leaking.”

  “That’s not going to get you out of answering questions.”

  Clove looked to Chief Terry to see if that was true. In typical fashion, he folded like a shirt on a clothing store display rack at the sight of her tears.

  “She’s done,” Chief Terry announced.

  “I’m not done with her,” Aunt Willa argued.

  “And I haven’t even had a chance to talk to her,” Reginald challenged.

  “And yet she’s still done.” Chief Terry was firm. “Witness dismissed.”

  Clove kept her back to Chief Terry as she walked toward us. She looked smugger than Aunt Tillie. “I guess I handled that, huh?”

  I guess she did.

  TO MY SURPRISE, THISTLE was called next. She was absolutely furious when she realized what was happening.

  “I knew it!” She stomped her foot as she stood.

  “You knew what?” Landon asked.

  “I knew that you guys were the leading lady and main hero in this story. Why else do you think I’m being called now?”

  “I don’t understand.” Landon looked to me for an explanation.

  “You’re the leading lady and man,” Thistle spat. “That’s why you haven’t been called yet. I thought there was a chance I would be the last called, which would mean I’m the leading lady, but it didn’t happen.” She turned and glared at Aunt Tillie. “You and I are going to throw down, old lady!”

  Aunt Tillie wasn’t bothered. “That sounds delightful. Now, hurry up. I’m getting bored watching you guys testify. I want to get to the part where I testify.”

  “So get to it,” Thistle shot back. “What do
you expect us to say? You know everything we saw. You know how agitated we are. Why not go up there, say what you want to say, and put an end to this?”

  “Now why would I want to do that?” Aunt Tillie tilted her head to the side. “That doesn’t sound like nearly as much fun as causing you to suffer.”

  Something occurred to me and I leaned forward. I had an idea. It might not work, of course, but if it did we might be able to go through the rest of the story on fast forward. That’s what we all wanted. Well, except for Aunt Tillie.

  Still, if I gave her the proper opening she’d most likely take advantage of it.

  “We simply want you to tell the truth, Aunt Tillie.” I fought to contain my smirk when I saw the keen light enter her eyes. “I want the truth!” I yelled, gathering my courage. That was all it took to spur her to action.

  “You can’t handle the truth!” Aunt Tillie barked, hopping to her feet.

  “And here we go.” Landon smacked his hand to his forehead. “You knew exactly how to bait her.”

  “I did.”

  “That must be why you’re the leading lady,” Thistle groused, crossing her arms over her chest as she threw herself on the wooden bench. “I hate this world. I want to go home.”

  “We just have to listen to a speech first.” I gestured toward Aunt Tillie. “Hit it.”

  Aunt Tillie ignored my sarcasm and strolled to the center of the courtroom so she’d be certain to be the center of attention.

  “I’m going to tell you the truth,” she announced. “I’m going to say it, and you’re going to have no choice but to believe it.”

  “How long do you think this will take?” Landon asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

  “Who knows.”

  “I’m considering taking a nap.”

  I grinned. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “Wake me when it’s over.” Landon leaned back and closed his eyes, something I’m sure irritated Aunt Tillie to no end. She refused to acknowledge his attitude, though. She had the floor, and there was no way she was going to cede it.

  “The truth is, I’m better than all of you.” Aunt Tillie added a bit of swish to her hips as she stalked back and forth in front of the wooden bench where we sat. “I’m better than you.” She pointed at Sam. “I’m better than you.” She pointed at Thistle. “I’m definitely better than you.” She used her middle finger to point at Aunt Willa. “I am the queen of the world, ladies and gentlemen.”

  “Oh, this is such crap,” Thistle complained loud enough to draw Aunt Tillie’s attention. “Is this really what you’ve been building toward all night? This is what you want? You want to take the stage in front of all of us and force us to listen to your crap?”

  “That’s exactly what I want.”

  “Well, fine.” Thistle threw up her hands. “Have at it. But remember, however long you make us sit here, I’m going to make you do something you hate for twice as long. I don’t know what that is yet, but I’ll make it my life’s mission to terrorize you. That’s my solemn vow.”

  Aunt Tillie snorted. “Yes, that was terrifying.”

  “Let her finish her speech,” Clove ordered. “She won’t let us escape until she gets what she wants. I don’t know about you, but all I care about is getting out of here.”

  “That’s like letting her win, though,” Thistle complained. “I don’t want to let her win.”

  “She’s already won,” I pointed out. “We’re at the end. She’s going to get to make her speech no matter what. We have to let her do it.”

  “But … .” Thistle wasn’t one to give up. Conceding went against her very nature.

  “We have no choice,” Landon said. “Let her get whatever she wants to off her chest. The sooner she does, the sooner we’ll wake up in our own beds … er, at least the inn’s beds.”

  “Fine.” Thistle was furious, but she did as instructed. “I’m going to make you pay, old lady. Just remember that.”

  Aunt Tillie wasn’t bothered. “Now, where was I?”

  “You’re better than everyone,” Aunt Willa prodded.

  “Thank you, Ms. Doodyhead.” Aunt Tillie beamed. “So, that’s right. I’m better than everyone. I’m smarter than everyone. Whenever you think you’re smarter than me, you should know it’s not true. It can’t be true, because I’m clearly smarter than you. Heck, I’m smarter than all of you combined.”

  Her voice turned to a drone as I rested my head against Landon’s shoulder. “I’m tired.”

  “Go to sleep, sweetie. It will be morning soon.”

  “Don’t we have to listen?” My eyes felt ridiculously heavy.

  “And not only am I smarter than all of you, I dress better, too,” Aunt Tillie added. “I should have my own fashion line I’m such a snazzy dresser. No, really, I could totally be a fashion designer professionally.”

  “I think we’ve already heard everything we need to hear.” Landon wrapped his arm around me. “Go to sleep, Bay. We’re almost home.”

  I realized the second I closed my eyes that he was right, the tug to slip under so strong I couldn’t fight it. So I didn’t. I pressed my eyes shut, exhaled heavily and slid into sleep … and thus ensured my escape.

  Love in the afternoon? Pfft. I would rather have a nap in the afternoon.

  – Thistle makes her disdain of soap operas obvious

  Twenty

  I bolted to a sitting position in the dark, Aunt Tillie’s voice still droning on and on … and on and on and on … in the back of my head. Something about “being young, restless, bold, beautiful and enjoying the days of our lives because we only have one life to live.”

  Yeah, she’s not exactly subtle.

  “Landon?” I reached out instinctively, hating how dry my throat was as I tried to get my bearings.

  “I’m here.” Landon sounded as rough as I felt.

  I turned to look at him. It was dark in the room, the only light coming from the moon through the window. He rested on his back, his hand on his forehead. His shirt was off, which seemed somehow poetic given where we’d spent our night. I couldn’t read the expression on his face.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Are you?”

  “Other than the world’s worst case of cotton mouth and what I’m sure will grow into a raging headache tomorrow, I’m okay.”

  Landon grunted as he forced himself to a sitting position. “I could use some water. I’ll grab us a few bottles from the refrigerator.”

  “You’re going downstairs?”

  “I won’t be gone long.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead and headed for the door. I was thankful to see he was wearing boxer shorts, because in his current mental state there was a real possibility he wouldn’t remember to check.

  Once he disappeared into the quiet hallway, I slid my legs from beneath the covers and walked to the window. Thanks to the fresh snow – and there was a lot of it – the night seemed somehow brighter even though we were still hours from dawn.

  That’s where Landon found me when he returned five minutes later. He had four bottles of water and a bottle of aspirin.

  “Are you okay?” He left the water and aspirin on the nightstand as he shuffled behind me, sliding his arm around my waist.

  “I’m fine.” I leaned against him. “So, it turns out all we had to do to escape was fall asleep.”

  “Now I’m betting you wish we’d stayed in bed when we first woke in that gaudy mansion.”

  That seemed like a lifetime ago. “Please don’t remind me of that. If it had been that easy … .”

  “I don’t think it would’ve been that easy.” Landon moved my hair from my shoulder so he could rest his chin there. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem … off.”

  “Honestly? I was looking for snow sharks.”

  Landon chuckled. “Anything?”

  “It just looks like a mountain of snow.”

  Landon moved his gaze to the ground outside. “That’s a lot of white stuff.”

 
“And I’ll bet it’s colder than what we found when we visited that last cabin in the soap opera world.”

  “Probably. That only means it will be a fun day when we hike back to the guesthouse – and we’re doing that right after breakfast, by the way – so we can start a fire and cuddle in front of the television the entire afternoon.”

  “Is that what you really want to do?”

  Landon nodded. “Yup. You, me, hot chocolate and Netflix.”

  “I could get behind that.”

  Landon grinned. “Just no soap operas … or bad science fiction movies … or A Few Good Men.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that one little bit.”

  THE SECOND TIME WE woke with clearer heads. We were wrapped around each other, no space between us. Somehow during the night it was as if we created one being for comfort.

  Surprisingly, I didn’t feel all that bad when I had a chance to wipe the crusties from my eyes and gauge my clarity and pain level.

  “Are you okay?” Landon murmured. He didn’t open his eyes, but he shifted so he could run his hand over my shoulder. “You’re not sick, are you?”

  “I’m feeling surprisingly spry. Perhaps being so active in our dreams beat back the hangover.”

  “Or the aspirin and water we drank in the middle of the night did that.”

  “Sure. If you want to be practical.”

  Landon’s lips curved. “I feel pretty good, too.” He opened his eyes and pinned me with a lazy look. “Do you want to finish what we started under the disco ball?”

  “Now?” My eyebrows migrated higher on my forehead. “I thought breakfast would be the first thing on your agenda.”

  “I did, too. Turns out I want a little more than eggs and bacon.”

  “Wow. I feel so special.”

  “Just keep in mind, if music springs up out of nowhere and I get nothing but a montage again … I’m going to have a complete and total meltdown.”

  I let loose with a loud chuckle. “I hope that doesn’t happen.”

  “Me, too. I don’t want to cry in front of you if I can help it.”

  “Wait … .” I put my hand on his shoulder before he could kiss me. “Is that still the worst thing that ever happened to you?”

 

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