Elvis Gets His Groove Back (Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #5

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Elvis Gets His Groove Back (Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #5 Page 9

by Heather Horrocks


  Gene’s voice went tight. “I didn’t send anyone. Are you home?”

  Amber took Charlie’s arm and they walked back toward the house. “Nearly back there. She had Charlie almost out the gate.”

  “It must have been Virginia. Stay home.”

  Charlie said, “Is Elvis singing tonight? She said he was.”

  There was a pause, then, “Yes, but you must stay home to be safe.”

  “She was going to use me as bait to lure him out, wasn’t she?”

  “That would be my guess, yes,” Gene said.

  “I took her down before, right? I can take her again.”

  “She’s too dangerous and now she knows what you can do so she’ll be prepared. We have all sorts of paranormals going to this thing. We’re going to get her. This will be over tonight.”

  “Will it be paranormals only? Or will humans be there?”

  “They’re closing it down to only paranormals.”

  Charlie knew she couldn’t just sit back and wait while Virginia attempted to steal her man, not when she had her Siren powers to draw on. And, since this was a paranormals-only evening, she could use her Siren powers. “Either you take me or I’m going by myself. I’m going to hear him sing and be there to protect him.”

  Gene swore, but Charlie didn’t care. She picked up speed, going into the house.

  Amber caught up at the Jeep. “Please don’t go, Charlie.”

  She looked into her new friend’s eyes. “I have to.”

  “Then I’m going with you.”

  They climbed in. “Where do I go?”

  When Amber paused, Charlie said, “I can just look it up on my phone, you know.”

  Amber sighed. “Okay. Go out the gate and I’ll guide you.”

  On the paranormal radio station set on her Jeep, an announcer excitedly said, “Elvis is going to sing tonight! Not an impersonator, but the real deal. For the first time in forty years, folks, Elvis is back in the building. Fangs at eight. Come early because it’s going to be packed.”

  Elvis’s palms were damp with nervous sweat.

  He was going to capture Virginia tonight. This would be over, and everyone could be safe. Charlie would be safe. And he would be free to court her.

  He looked around the crowded bar. Fangs was popular anytime, but tonight it was supernaturals only with guards at the door to ensure that.

  He was surrounded by people he’d lived in the same town with for thirty-five years. He’d stayed aloof, but he still knew many of them. The dragon Tyberius Thrakos and his pretty Swan Maiden wife, Mara. The were-owl fire chief Kealoha Pueo and several other firefighters. Deputies. Witches. Werewolves. Vampires. The bar was filled with all sorts of magical creatures that were there to support him.

  He took a deep breath. Even though it was Elvis karaoke night, everyone had come tonight to hear him — the real Elvis Presley, back for a special command performance.

  The werebear co-owner of Fangs, Stanley MacGyver, lumbered to the mic in the middle of the room — they’d decided they could fit the most people in the room that way — and held up a hand. The room grew quiet.

  “We have quite a treat for you tonight,” Stanley announced. “There are several Elvis impersonators ready to perform tonight, but first, for the first time in forty years, Elvis is back in the building!”

  There was wild applause and Elvis smiled. He could do this. These people were his friends and some of them were fans. And not all fans were bad.

  Elvis scanned the room again. He didn’t see Virginia. But then his heart froze.

  Charlie and Amber walked in and worked their way to the front of the circle.

  He frowned at Charlie. They were so going to talk about this later. He wanted to keep her safe, but she smiled at him, and he couldn’t stay upset with her.

  If he was going to break his vow and sing for the first time in forty years, he was glad she’d be there to hear him.

  Stanley said, “Elvis Presley, known to you as Elvis Smith, is going to honor us with three songs tonight.”

  He’d chosen his three songs carefully. First, he’d sing “Are You Lonesome Tonight” because that was the ghost Evelyn’s favorite song. Next, he’d force himself to sing “Teddy Bear” because it was the song Virginia had most wanted him to sing for her and he was trying to lure her in close enough to be captured. And then he’d play the song he ended most of his shows with — “Can’t Help Falling in Love” — for Charlie, even before he’d realized she’d be here.

  He couldn’t help that he was falling in love with her.

  He caught her eye and smiled back at her.

  Stanley said, “So now, ladies and gentlemen, we present, for the first time in forty years, Elvis Presley!”

  The crowd went wild. Elvis moved to the mic and waited until the clapping and whistling quieted. “Thank you, Stanley.”

  The bear nodded, a wide grin on his face.

  Elvis turned in a full circle, looking at everyone. “Thank you so much for coming to hear me sing. I’m honored. My voice might be a little rusty, but I’ll give it my best.”

  The crowd clapped and cheered again.

  A werewolf pulled out a cell phone, and Stanley came back to the mic. “One more thing. If anyone takes a picture of Elvis, they will regret it. Any cell phones not in pockets will be confiscated and you will be tossed out. This is a strictly incognito performance.”

  The werewolf looked sheepish and slid his cell phone back into his pocket.

  Stanley nodded. “All right.”

  The karaoke track began, and Elvis sang the first words of “Are You Lonesome Tonight.”

  It felt oh-so-good to be singing. The song filled his soul and he sang his heart out, moving his body to the music.

  Evelyn’s ghostly form danced beside him, though no one else seemed to be able to see her.

  Charlie listened and watched, mesmerized by Elvis.

  The King was back — and better than ever!

  Because now, in addition to the singing talent he’d always had, the graceful body, the southern charm, and the charisma, he’d had four decades to gain wisdom, to take stock, and to gain perspective. Now he knew who he was. He wasn’t just a young man lucky enough to be famous, or a middle-aged man searching for lasting happiness despite all his success and all his money.

  He was a man fully formed and beautiful.

  As he started, “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” he looked directly at Charlie and was smiling. She believed that he was singing just for her.

  Maybe the other women in the room felt the same way, but she felt it in her heart. She could feel his exultation at singing, along with the peace he always brought her.

  Millions of women had wanted Elvis — and he wanted her.

  As he finished the song, a foul smell made her wince. Voices rose and calamity ensued.

  Charlie spun to see — three trolls!

  The stink hit her full force a moment later. Holy sour notes, Batman!

  Where had they come from? She’d heard trolls were supposed to stay on Troll Knoll, and weren’t allowed within city limits, except the one Guardian for Amber.

  Supernaturals scattered out of their path, while others jumped in front of them — Samuel Winston among them, saying, “Not again!” as he did. He ordered them to stop, but got knocked into the bar for his trouble. Amber gasped.

  The bar went crazy. Werewolves shifted, vampire fangs descended, and others started darting in and jumping on trolls.

  Amber pulled on Charlie’s arm, dragging her down behind the bar. She peeked over.

  A troll stampede was not a pretty thing to watch.

  A vampire went flying over the bar, and Charlie ducked. Amber used her werewolf speed and strength to jump up and keep him from hitting his head. He thanked her and popped right back into the fray.

  One troll was driven back toward the door while the other two still stomped around.

  Samuel activated a magic spell — Charlie could feel it — and the t
roll nearest the door froze in its ugly, stinky tracks.

  She felt another spell activated, and the other two trolls howled at the indignity.

  One of them raised its hand and ran toward Samuel, presumably to smash him flat, while the third troll ran toward the back of the bar.

  Samuel incapacitated the second troll.

  When the dust settled, the third troll was gone.

  Charlie scanned the room and her heart clenched.

  So was Elvis!

  She caught Samuel’s eye, pointed to the rear, and yelled, “They got him!”

  “We have to follow the third troll!” Samuel shouted. He shifted in mid-air. One minute he was a man and the next, he was a wolf running out the back door. A stream of other wolves, vampires, and a flood of other supernaturals rushed after him.

  She ran after them. She had to do something to help.

  Tourists outside clapped at what they thought was a special effects show.

  We All Have Flaws

  ELVIS GROANED AND OPENED HIS EYES. “What did that troll hit me with? Besides funk, I mean.”

  In the front seat of the van, Virginia flashed him a smile. “Just something to freeze your muscles. We wouldn’t want you using your karate moves on me, now, would we?”

  “You can’t get away with it this time, Virginia.”

  “I want to thank you for singing my song, Elvis. I installed a hidden camera earlier so I could watch your concert. I didn’t like that Charlie person you were making goo-goo eyes at, though. She almost made you forget that I’m the person you’re in love with. Remember?”

  “Oh, I remember all right.”

  He thought he’d be terrified at this moment, but he was ... resolute. And madder than he’d ever been.

  He attempted to move his body, but found it wouldn’t respond to his commands yet. But he was a werewolf of forty years, and his body would burn through the drug quickly. Then he’d make his move. Actually, he didn’t think she’d used a drug on him. This felt more like some sort of immobilizing spell.

  That should wear off soon, too.

  He was back in a cage, but he’d learned how to pick locks since the last time. Just in case.

  Finally able to move a little, he levered himself until he could see out of the window. She was driving him down Mane Street toward the freeway. She was taking him out of town. Of course she was.

  Why wasn’t he more afraid?

  Maybe because he’d lived through the worst she could dish out — and survived.

  And maybe because Charlie was safe, just as he’d wanted. He’d known, when he put himself up as bait, that this could happen. He knew Virginia was smart.

  “Sweetie. It’s going to be so good this time. My songbird is back.” She sounded like a woman in love.

  He tried not to gag.

  He wasn’t stuck in his wolfling form this time. He’d gone from 8th degree black belt in karate to 10th degree — and he’d added black belts in three other disciplines.

  She couldn’t keep him drugged or bespelled all the time. She’d want him to sing for her.

  He could take her.

  He would escape this time.

  As soon as this spell wore off, he’d fight his way out.

  Virginia swore.

  There were two police cars blocking the way to the freeway. She spun into a U-turn and headed back toward Town Square.

  He had to get free so he could keep the tourists safe from her.

  Charlie turned her Jeep onto Mane Street just as Virginia’s van screeched past. Police sirens and lights followed in hot pursuit.

  Amber said, “This is really bad. We’re not supposed to let these kinds of things happen where humans can witness them.”

  “Your witches will be busy for a day with forgetfulness spells.”

  “I guess,” Amber said, sounding worried.

  Charlie pulled to the side of the road, ready to turn around when the traffic eased. But then the sirens headed back toward them. What?

  Amber said, “Look!”

  Charlie could see the van parked on the corner on the left, blocking traffic around the square. They’d all gone up around Town Square and continued around and back down until they reached the corner.

  “Come on.” She jumped out and raced for the van.

  She’d reached the concentration of cop cars, running through the tourists gathering to gawk, when a man grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her.

  Gene’s voice ordered, “No!”

  She stilled. “I have to save him.”

  “You do it my way. You can’t sing, Charlie. There are tourists around. We have to play it differently than before. We have to get the tourists out safely. There are about twenty of them in Wild Things.”

  The gift shop she’d visited just days ago.

  She forced herself to stand still. “I won’t sing,” she told him. “Not until the tourists are far enough away that they won’t be hurt.”

  “Okay,” he said, letting her go. The other deputies gathered around her, and Gene said, “She’s holding twenty people hostage in the store. She’s going to act like a trapped wolf.”

  Charlie stared through the windows. She could see Virginia forcing the tourists behind the counter. Some of them looked terrified, but others looked like they were enjoying the show in this “fake” supernatural town.

  Charlie had never wanted to sing someone to death until this moment. It was good that Gene wouldn’t let her do it. She wouldn’t want to face herself in the mirror tomorrow if she did — especially since she would take out innocent tourists, too.

  She couldn’t, but she wanted to.

  Fine. She couldn’t sing. She’d been raised in a deadly family who’d taught her to kill in various ways, not just using her Song. She had other skills she could fall back on. Both she and Hank had become black belts. But first she needed to get inside.

  She carefully moved herself until she was not in the center of the circle. As the deputies took up positions — she broke free and raced for the store.

  The spell was beginning to wear off. He could feel it.

  Elvis wiggled his fingers enough to get them into his back pocket. He worked his wallet out and found the prepared bobby pin he carried there always.

  He’d made sure to learn how to pick locks. All sorts of locks. He’d known she’d try to get him again, and he wanted to be prepared. This bobby pin was his way out of these double-lock cuffs. He’d practiced this move thousands of times.

  He glanced over at the group of tourists that Virginia had forced behind the counter. The cashier — Armond — comforted them as best he could. One of the tourists held up his camera to take pictures and Armond talked him into putting it back down.

  Elvis looked at Virginia, pacing in front of the counter. She said to him, “They’re not going to separate us, my darling. If they’re going to take us, then we’ll go out together.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that.

  She started pacing again.

  Elvis worked the tool around until he heard a tiny “pop” as the double-lock gave.

  Virginia didn’t notice.

  Next, he began work on the single lock, keeping his eye on the pacing werewolf.

  And then the door flew open and Charlie ran in!

  Behind Charlie, Gene called out, “Stop!”

  But she didn’t. She kept running into Wild Things Gift Shop.

  Virginia whirled to face her, growling.

  “You!” Virginia’s eyes widened. “You ruined everything, you know. Elvis thinks he loves you now, but he doesn’t. He loves me. He always has.”

  Charlie didn’t say anything, just took a few steps closer to the werewolf.

  Virginia said, “You look like a tall pixie, but you don’t smell like pixie. What are you?”

  “Your worst nightmare,” Charlie said. “A siren.”

  “You can sing all you want. I’ve encountered one of your kind before. I read the Odyssey. I put beeswax in my ears and that
cuts a Siren Song’s power.” Virginia smirked. “So I’ll just say this: Mind your own beeswax, sweetie. He’s mine now.”

  Charlie didn’t plan on singing.

  When Virginia smiled, her fangs showed.

  Charlie yelled at the tourists, “Get down. Things are about to get ugly.” Then she plowed into Virginia, knocking them both to the ground.

  Virginia began to shift, but Charlie didn’t let it happen. She slapped the other woman so hard that apparently her head spun, at least if her resultant wobbling into the counter was any indication.

  Charlie followed it up with a kick she’d learned in the dojo all those years ago with Hank, when he was still young.

  And then Virginia shifted and Charlie faced a wolf’s fangs.

  Finally, Elvis got the handcuffs off, dropping them to the ground as he rose to help Charlie.

  Virginia had changed into a wolf. They were going to definitely need some forgetfulness spells before this was over.

  Charlie did a roundhouse kick and sent the wolf flying, and he realized that she was actually handling Virginia just fine on her own.

  He didn’t know what Charlie could do — other than, apparently, sing — but she obviously was well versed in martial arts.

  Without taking her eyes off the wolf, Charlie yelled, “Get the tourists out of here!”

  He nodded and turned to the twenty or so people sitting, terrified. “Come on. I’ll help you out of here while the wolf is distracted.”

  An elderly couple struggled to rise and started walking around the counter, along with a family with little kids, a group of women — they all let Elvis lead them around the back of the counter and to the door of the store. By the time he got there, the police were storming the place. Elvis continued to help the people outside and Gene stayed to help him. “I have the FPs ready.”

  Forgetfulness Potions. “You’ll need them.”

  As Gene shepherded the freed hostages, Elvis turned back to help Charlie.

  The tourists clapped for him as he went back inside.

 

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