by Erin Johnson
I took it in my own. Her hands were calloused and strong and warm. "I'm Imogen Banks."
She froze, just for a moment, her brows pulling up at the center. Then she gave herself a little shake and released my hand, looking down and away. She swallowed a couple of times, and when she looked up again her eyes shone wet. "Well, then. Pleased to meet you, Imogen Banks."
"Likewise, Ms. Kingston."
She sniffed. "Junie is fine. What's formality between old friends?" She winked and broke out into laughter. "Imogen Banks, my oh my. I'll see you and your friends around—staying long, are you?"
I smiled. "Just until the monster vine is cleared."
She lifted her thin, faint brows. "Monster vine. You sure?"
Hank nodded. "Blocked the road to London."
Junie took a long breath and let it out in a huff. "Strange times."
She shuffled off, muttering to herself.
"Well, that was…." I struggled for the right words for that bizarre encounter.
"Strange?" Hank suggested.
"She seemed wacko," Wiley chimed in.
A stronger term than I would have used, but I had to agree.
A few minutes later and I looked up as the crowd jostled its way out of the parlor and into the hallway.
"Where's everyone off to?" I sat up a little straighter, reluctantly. I was lounging hard and didn't want to ruin it by sitting upright.
"I overheard something about a piano recital." Francis hovered half an inch above Rhonda's lap in the cozy armchair in the corner.
"How? You've been right there the whole— Oh." I rolled my eyes. "Right. Vampire hearing."
Rhonda waggled her brows and nodded. "My baby's got the best hearing in town." Guess they'd made up after the weird incident earlier with Lady Cordelia. I still wanted the lowdown on what that was all about.
"Well." Wiley looked down at Maple on the couch beside him. "Should we go see what all the fuss is about?"
"And lose our spots?" Annie cocked a brow. "Don't think so."
I was with Annie.
"Maybe Francis can listen a moment and tell us if it's worth getting up for?" Hank suggested.
Francis nodded and after many of the guests had filed out and the parlor grew relatively quiet and much cooler, Francis cocked his head to the side. He nodded along and finally proclaimed, "The music is pleasant."
Nooo, I moaned in my head. I so didn't want to get up again. I was exhausted from traveling all day and the punch. But since all my friends were rising, I caved to peer pressure and got to my feet. At least they felt much better thanks to Maple's spell.
Annie and Yann stayed put, and I raised a brow as I shuffled past them.
"When you're older you can do as you like, because you won't give two clams what anyone else thinks. But go—be young for now."
I patted her shoulder and followed the group across the hall. We stood at the back of the crowded room and I rose up on my toes to see over everyone's heads. A baby grand gleamed at the other end of the high-ceilinged room, where Ria Kapoor sat playing. Her fingers trailed up and down the black and white keys as she swayed in her seat. The melody she played was simple, but sweet and moving. Listening, my throat grew tight and I slipped one hand into Hank's and the other into Maple's. I smiled at Sam and my chest swelled with gratitude to be surrounded by my best friends on this snowy, wintry night.
When she finished, the room broke out into polite applause.
"That was lovely." Maple let out a happy sigh.
Hank squeezed my hand gently. "Worth getting up for?"
I grinned and nodded.
"I'm next!" Pandora bounced to the front of the room and Ria glared at her. "If you're done?"
Ria pressed her full lips tight and stood. Pandora swept into the seat, arranging her giant hoop skirt. "I was going to suggest we play a duet, but it doesn't look like there's room for anyone besides me and my skirt."
Ria moved off without a comment.
"No? Not funny. Oh well, then. Here we go!"
"Yo ho! Bruma!" A young man with dark brown skin wearing an even darker chocolate-colored velvet suit raised his glass. He grinned a dazzling bright smile. "Go, Pandora!"
She gave an exaggerated wink, her other eye fluttering to stay open. "Thanks, Beau."
Ah. So this was the Beau Primpington that Lady Cordelia had set her sights on for Pandora. He certainly seemed into her. The crowd murmured until Pandora set her fingers to the keys, and then the room dropped silent. Where Ria's playing had been simple and uplifting, Pandora's sent goose bumps down my spine. Her song was achingly beautiful, mysterious, and mind-blowingly fast. Her fingers flew in a blur up and down the keyboard and I found myself holding my breath even as my heart raced with quickening pace. And then abruptly the mad race of notes trickled to a stop, and the last note died in the completely silent room. The only thing I could compare it to from my human upbringing was the "Carol of the Bells." I blinked back tears.
"Wow."
Beau stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle. It broke the spell and the room erupted in cheers and whoops. I clapped alongside everyone else, and leaned closer to Hank.
"I would never in a million years have expected her to be so good."
He leaned over to speak in my ear (which of course gave me more goose bumps). "Lady Cordelia told me all about it on the walk to the mansion earlier. Apparently she's attending Valehaven Conservatory—it's famous for producing talented musicians, and it's where she and Beau met. Cordelia has a connection there to the headmistress, though of course, she has assured me that has nothing to do with Pandora getting in."
I smirked. "Of course."
"What's the song?" a woman called out over the happy chatter.
Pandora stood and dropped into a curtsy. "It's my own composition."
"Double wow," I murmured. Beside me, Maple nodded her agreement.
"What inspired you?"
Pandora beamed. "I got up late one night at the conservatory—for personal reasons. And after I'd done my business, I blew out my candle before I'd made it to my bed. And I was groping in the dark, I walked right into the bed frame and I screamed a lot of curse words. And then I fell over moaning, and my roommate spelled the candles back alight and we saw that my toe was all fat and purple and the toenail was just dangling and there was blood and—"
Lady Cordelia glided in front of her daughter. "It must be nearly time for the fireworks—yes?"
"No, mum." The butler bowed and Lady Cordelia's face darkened.
"Well, in any case, I think that's enough of your story, darling."
"Agreed," Rhonda muttered.
"Hm." Francis's nostrils flared. "I wanted to hear more about the blood." His throat bobbed, and it seemed difficult for him to tear his eyes away from Lady Cordelia. He took Rhonda's hand. "Let's go get refreshments, shall we?"
"Just to be clear, not blood, right?" Rhonda trailed after him.
The partygoers all dispersed back to drinking, dancing, and playing table games and I found, with dismay, our seats had been taken.
Annie shrugged. "I tried, dear."
But my disappointment was short-lived as a chant went up around the large room.
"Unc-le Bru-ma! Unc-le Bru-ma!"
I looked up at Hank, my eyes wide. "What is happening?"
He smiled back at me. "Time for the human sacrifice."
9
Uncle Bruma
I choked. "Come again? The human sacrifice?" I looked around for the exits.
Hank threw his head back and laughed, his throat bobbing. "It's symbolic… though they might have actually done it hundreds of years ago." He grimaced. "Guess we could ask Francis."
I gave him a flat look. "Let's not."
"Unc-le Bru-ma!" The chanting grew louder and Lady Cordelia swept into the center of the room, beaming.
"You're going to have to explain this to me. We just have an old man who sneaks into children's rooms while they're sleeping and claims to have
been spying on them all year. This is a whole ’nother level of creepy."
Hank's shoulder shook with laughter again. "When you put it that way. I've never really thought about what this must look like to an outsider." He wiped a tear from under his eye. "Lady Cordelia will draw a name from the hat and one of us here will be crowned Uncle or Aunt Bruma. It always used to be a man, but it's gotten a bit more PC in years past. About time."
I folded my arms. "Well, good. Though they should be chanting ‘Aunt Bruma,’ too."
Hank cleared his throat. "Well, Aunt or Uncle Bruma becomes queen or king for the night. Everyone, me included, has to obey whatever orders they give."
"This sounds dangerous."
Hank cocked a brow. "Oh. It is." He shook his head, lost in remembering Brumas past, no doubt.
"And…," I prompted. "Where does the human sacrifice figure in?"
"Right. Well, the Uncle Bruma isn't just king for the night, he represents the king of the night. So, while it's night, he reigns. But once it hits midnight and the longest night of the year is done, it's as if we've all defeated him, so he's thrown into a cauldron and everyone else rejoices. There's usually fireworks."
"Oh well. What's a little human sacrifice if there's fireworks?"
"Glad you're on board."
I glanced down at the red velvet dress I'd bought just for the occasion. "Queen of the night was sounding pretty good until the cauldron part. I don't want to ruin my dress."
Hank shrugged. "Double-edged sword."
"Hm." I crossed my arms as Lady Cordelia made a big show of holding aloft a top hat filled with little slips of paper. "And what if we don't obey the king or queen of the night?"
"Well, then, Uncle Bruma will put you in his sack and take you back to his cave of eternal night and feed you to his reindeer."
I lifted a brow and Hank grinned.
"Uncle Bruma's just supposed to give silly orders. Mostly it's just on the honor system that you'll do it."
"Ah."
Lady Cordelia called for quiet before reaching her arm into the hat and fishing around. She pulled a creamy slip of parchment out and handed the hat to the butler. The room grew quiet in anticipation as she drew out the unfolding of it. "And our Uncle Bruma is…" She paused for dramatic effect. Her face grew still. "Ali Bridger." She refolded the slip and tucked it into her sleeve.
A groan went up from the crowd. So the mean drunk was king for the night. Great.
Bridger shoved his way through the crowd, followed by angry exclamations. With a snap of his fingers, the butler made all the slips of paper disappear and then flipped the top hat and placed it on Bridger's tall head. The gambler adjusted the cap to sit at a jaunty angle, and turned in a slow circle, glaring at all us revelers.
"Bow!" he barked. "Bow to the king of the night!"
I shot Hank a doubtful look, but he smirked and folded at the waist, one arm across his middle. I chuckled and folded over, my arms in front of me in mock adulation.
"Overdoing it a little, isn't he?" I said out of the corner of my mouth.
"Silence!" the king of the night ordered.
And that was just the beginning of his reign of terror. The party devolved into a game of avoid Bridger. Which, in an odd way, was kind of fun and helped us bond with other partygoers.
He commanded a group of men, including the governor, to carry him around in a chair. He tried to rope Eddy Kinn in on it, but the bald, terrifying elf man shot him a dirty look and that was the end of that. Next, he ordered a sprig of mistletoe be held over his head and demanded kisses from all the women. The first lady he approached, Beau Primpington's mother, looked about to slap him, and again the king of the night was forced to rescind that decree. I felt a little cheated—I wanted to see that slap.
Beau's mother and father swept past us, whispering between themselves.
"This would never happen at the Knightley’s party. We should have gone there, like usual."
"Yes, dear." The husband patted his fuming wife's hand. "But Beau wanted us to meet the girl he's interested in. And I must say, Pandora is talented and personable."
"Agreed," the wife ground out. "But this is a town in the middle of nowhere—this would not be the most advantageous match for our son. Now that other girl, Ria Kapoor. I'd rather see Beau with someone like her—poised, reasonably talented, lives in London near us." The wife sighed and looked toward her son.
Beau stood nearby, chatting with Ria. Well, she seemed to be talking, while Beau plastered on his bright smile and glanced past her shoulder toward Pandora every few moments.
"I'd love to get into the conservatory," Ria was saying. "Who's your favorite? Bach or Beethoven? Personally, I find the concertos to be—"
Meanwhile, Beau's lady love had hiked up her hoop skirts and appeared to be jigging on top of a pile of twisted crackers, sending the group around her into giggles every time one exploded. I tried, unsuccessfully, not to laugh. Well, too bad for Beau's parents and Ria, but he and Pandora made a cute couple.
"Incoming." Hank wrapped his large hand around my elbow and gently guided me down the hall. A moment later Bridger appeared in his top hat, carried by four red-faced, sweating men.
"Couldn't they just cast a spell to make him lighter?" Hank and I hurried forward.
He lowered his deep voice. "He's forbidden it."
I rolled my eyes. "Of course he has."
Bridger's dark beady eyes flicked right and left, looking for his next victim. The other partygoers in the hall scattered as Bridger scratched at the scarf around his neck.
My lip curled in disgust. "Seriously, if he gives us all bedbugs… or leprosy, I am not going to be happy."
Hank pulled me around the next corner into a dark alcove with a several closed doors leading off it. He looked around, and spotting no one, dipped his face closer to mine. I backed up against the wood-paneled wall and grabbed his lapels, pulling him closer.
He paused, just before his lips reached mine. "Imogen."
The way he said my name sent a thrill of anticipation through me. "I—I just want you know that—" He licked his lips and I held my breath, hanging on every word. "These last few months have been the happiest of my life, by far. I—" He grinned and dropped his eyes. They flicked back up to mine. "I know this sounds trite, but I didn't know I was capable of being this happy. When I—" He coughed, his voice growing choked. "When I entered the baking competition, it was a last chance for me to do something I loved before I resigned myself to a life of duty—marrying someone I didn't know or have feelings for, assuming a governmental role I didn't want. My future looked gray and bleak and I accepted that. But then you—" He pressed his lips together and I trembled with a mix of nerves and emotions I couldn't quite name.
"You charmed me—completely bowled me over. You are vibrant and funny and bright and you brought the color back to my life." His eyes shone, even in the dim light. "You are the most amazing person I have ever met. Your whole life was uprooted, everything you knew flipped on its head, and you've taken it all in stride, with humor and with kindness to show everyone." He swallowed. "Imogen, I love you."
I could barely speak, my throat was so choked up. "I love you, too." I pulled him to me and kissed him, deeply, pressing up against the warmth of his broad chest. Tears welled up in my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. The intensity of the love, gratitude, and happiness I felt seemed to overwhelm me and require some release in the form of tears—and deep kisses. Lots of kisses.
The clack of heels down the hallway startled us out of our embrace. Hank kept his arm braced against the wall over my head, but we both turned to peek one eye toward the hallway. Fleeing partygoers rushed by, paying us no attention.
"Uh-oh. The king must be near."
Bridger's voice boomed from somewhere out of sight, but nearby. "I command you to lick my shoes—hey! Come back!"
Hank took my hand. "Maybe one of these doors is open." We crept further down the hallway, trying the handles but finding the do
ors locked. I cast a glance over my shoulder and bounced on my toes. "He's getting closer."
As we moved deeper into the alcove, I hoped we hadn't trapped ourselves in a dead end. "Hey—what does Uncle Bruma usually command people to do?"
"Silly stuff." Hank pulled me to the next door and rattled the locked knob. "People sometimes have to speak in accents for the rest of the night or make up funny songs on the spot. I've seen men have to wear high heels and the rich serve drinks to the poor and carry platters of hor d'oeuvres. Laughable things. This is just ridiculous."
"Might be time for an uprising."
Hank grinned. "Well, it's got to be getting close to midnight—he'll be deposed soon. Ah!" Hank pushed the last door open and pulled me behind him, just as Bridger's shadow loomed at the entrance to our hiding spot.
My relief faded as we found ourselves in a little alley behind the mansion, snow flurries swirling around my feet. Hank shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it around my shoulders.
"Better?"
My teeth chattered. "A little."
Hank lifted his palms and cast the warming spell around me, and my shoulders relaxed out of my ears "Ahh. That's much better." I rose on my toes to give him a kiss on his cheek. "You'll have to teach me that one."
"No." Hank shook his head as we made our way over the cobblestone path, stepping around crates and squinting in the dim light.
"Why not?"
"Because then you'll be better at it than me, like you are at all the spells I teach you. It's getting embarrassing that someone who's only studied magic for a few months is schooling me."
I laughed, the sound echoing off the high wall.
He winked. "Of course I'll teach you."
We worked our way around the back of the mansion, heading for the front door. I held on to Hank's arm as my heels wobbled on the uneven pavement. We'd reached the side of the mansion when the sounds of low grunts and thuds sent a shot of adrenaline through me. Hank and I exchanged worried glances and dashed forward. Around the next curve, a small group of shadowed figures thrashed. A man lay in a lump on the ground, curled in on himself, while a few others kicked him and threw punches.