by Amy Boyles
“Hm,” Betty said. “Barnaby might be able to do it. Possibly Samuel, Argus’s grandson.”
Betty and Axel exchanged a long look. Betty snuffed her pipe out by holding her palm over the bowl. “Or maybe none of them will even have a shot at breaking it.”
“Barnaby’s a better choice than Samuel, but we need to find the labradorite. I get the feeling if we have that stone, I’ll be able to break the spell without changing. The labradorite can overcome the part that Rufus wove in.”
“So where is it?” Betty said.
Axel lifted the key. “If we can find the lock this fits, we’ll have it.”
Betty studied the small silver key. It had silver scrollwork and was lightweight, probably hollow inside.
Betty turned it over. “I’ve never seen a key like this.” She handed it back to Axel. “I can’t help you. The best I can do is ask around.”
Concern flashed in Axel’s eyes. “The problem there is Samuel.”
Betty tapped tobacco ash into the trash can. “He finds out we have a key to the labradorite and he’ll claim it for himself.”
I frowned. “But don’t you think he’d let you use it on me? Just once.”
Betty wagged a finger at me. “That boy’s so selfish he won’t do it. Either he receives all the glory or no one does. He gets one whiff of that key and he’ll have Garrick Young standing at your doorstep to take it. Once it’s out of your sight, you’ll never see it again. Worse, Samuel couldn’t work that complicated of a spell if it bit him in the butt.”
“Sounds painful,” I said.
Betty nodded. “Magic like that always is.”
I pressed my fingers to my temples. “So where does that leave us? Garrick’s now investigating a murder. We’ve got to solve this and work around him. Not to mention that my headache has returned.”
Axel shifted on one hip. “Betty—you, Barnaby and Sylvia need to figure out a way to rework the spell so that once Rufus is out, he won’t be able to return. Garrick’s on the murder investigation, but there may be clues as to where this key leads back in Argus’s shack. As much as I want to stay out of this, I really don’t like it when my friends are murdered. It kinda ticks me off.”
“So what do you want to do?” I said.
He kissed my forehead. “I’m going back to the shack tonight. Now that we know about the key, we may be able to figure out where the lock is located.”
“You’re taking me with you, right?”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” I shot him a hard look. He exhaled. “Okay, I guess I’ve changed my mind. Pick you up at eight.”
“Sounds good.”
“And I’ll bring something to soothe your headache. Or I’ll at least try to.”
“Thank you.”
He slipped the key back in his pocket. “Try to get some rest. You might need it.”
“Why?”
He opened the door. “I get the feeling tonight might be a long one.”
“Oh?”
Axel tapped his fingers on the edge of the wood. “We don’t know what we’re looking for and it might take until morning to find it.”
With that, he left, leaving me and Betty alone. She turned to me. “You go on home and do as Axel said. I’ll be there in a little while.”
“You’re not going to burn down this store, are you?”
“I was thinking about it. A nice insurance payout would really pad my pocket.”
I laughed and glanced at the kittens and puppies, all of which were meowing and whining that they wanted to be played with.
We haven’t seen you in days, the kittens said.
Play with us, the puppies chattered.
I raked my fingers over their fur and then scooped up Hugo. “Come on, let’s go home and take a nap.”
I was walking down the street when I noticed Axel had entered a store—a shop with a key on the outside.
I ducked back in Familiar Place. “Axel’s at some shop with a key on the door.”
“Well of course he is,” Betty said. “That’s the key maker.”
“Key maker?”
Betty pulled her pants up to her boob line. “Every magical town has a key maker, Pepper. Most people call them locksmiths, but we call them key makers. It was the second most logical place for him to take that key. The first being me, of course.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.” I crossed the street and headed over to the shop. The large golden key on the door jangled as I entered. The store was a sight. It was like a tea-cup shop, except keys and small golden boxes lined all the shelves. The keys were made of every material imaginable—precious gemstones, rock, metal, wood even. And the small treasure boxes were the same, made of all sorts of organic material and ornately carved.
The place was stunning.
“Welcome,” said an older woman with upswept red and gray hair.
Axel glanced over his shoulder. “Hey.”
I took a place next to him at the counter and tapped my fingers on the glass as if wanting to see one of the precious boxes on display.
“What’ve you found out?”
“Pepper, this is Emma Lock, she’s the owner of Key Magic.”
“How do you do?” I said.
Emma smiled. She was a stately woman in a suit. There was absolutely very little about her that was magical except for the gold monocle that hung around her neck from a golden chain.
The monocle itself floated left and right, no matter which way she turned, as if listening and anticipating her moves.
“Let me see what you have there,” she said.
Axel retrieved the key from his pocket. Emma’s monocle flew onto her eye and wedged itself under her brow.
“Ah yes, I remember this key,” she said. She leaned over. “I understand your questioning is of a delicate nature, and trust me, Mr. Reign, the work we do here at Key Magic is often very delicate. If I remember correctly, this was a very secret request, from Argus Amulet.”
Axel’s eyes brightened. “That’s correct. It belonged to him. Can you tell me what it opened?”
She sucked on her teeth. “It was the late Mr. Lock who created the particular box, may his soul rest in peace. I remember it was the most brilliant blue and green, as Mr. Amulet requested.”
“The colors of labradorite,” Axel murmured.
“Exactly! Just like that.”
Axel rested a forearm on the counter. “Argus didn’t happen to mention where he was going to place the box, did he?”
She shook her head. “No, Mr. Amulet never told us that secret. Our clients’ secrets stay with them. And Mr. Lock never would’ve asked. In my business, Mr. Reign, discretion is something we pride ourselves in. In fact, when Mr. Lock constructed the town vault, he had to keep much of the security of the place to himself. Lots of rumors floated around—trap doors, doors that opened to walls, that sort of thing, but I don’t know if any of it’s true. I don’t have a key that will open the vault, and only those who do know how to maneuver the place.”
I whistled. “Very mysterious.”
“Quite so,” Emma said. “Now, that’s all I can help you with here. If there’s something else I can do, let me know, but otherwise, I have keys to make, Mr. Reign.”
“Thank you for your help,” Axel said.
We left the store. My skin prickled from the late summer heat. The sun blazed down. I shielded my eyes as the painful throb in my head flared so hard I thought I might pass out on the concrete. Which would be horrible. Because if y’all know how freaking hot it is in the South during the summer, you’d know that the ground would burn my butt faster than pulling down my pants and mooning the sun directly would.
“I’ll give you a ride home,” Axel said.
I slid into the Mustang. He fired up the engine.
“Where’s the Vault?” I said.
“We’ll take the long way to your house and swing by there. Why?”
I shrugged. “No reason. Amelia might get a job there, and the way Emma tal
ked, the place sounds creepy and mysterious.”
Axel laughed. “Just wait till you lay eyes on it.”
“Why?”
He tipped his head toward mine. “You’ll see.”
“Cryptic,” I said.
He laughed. He rubbed the back of my neck as we drove. I closed my eyes, letting him work at the knotted muscles. “You’re tense again. How bad’s the headache?”
“Horrible, but your fingers almost make me feel as if it could disappear any moment.”
“Here we are.”
I blinked my eyes open. We were just on the backside of downtown, on a small side street. A tall willow dipped down over a lawn of freshly clipped grass. A building with a circular arch sat nestled behind the tree. Two lion statues guarded what looked to be a steel fortress.
“Do you think Argus placed the box in the Vault?”
Axel shook his head. “No way. The Vault is for government stuff—it’s a highly secure Magnolia Cove treasury of spells and magic. It’s not for us regular folks.”
“Seems intimidating,” I said.
Axel whistled. “You wouldn’t believe the security.”
“Really? Are there armed guards at night?”
Axel chuckled. “Sweetheart, you’re in Magnolia Cove, Alabama, the most magical town south of the Mason Dixon. There aren’t any living guards at night.”
I quirked a brow. “Oh? Then what’s the deal?”
Axel grazed his lips over my cheek. I shivered and met his lips. Letting him drink from me eased the pain in my head, but only for a moment.
“Okay, hot stuff, I don’t want to get arrested for indecent exposure in your car.”
He sat back and threaded his fingers through his hair. “Right. Security. No. No people guard the Vault at night.”
“Then what does?”
“See those two lions?”
“The stone ones?”
Axel nodded. “Anyone tries to enter and they come to life.”
I grimaced. “I’m guessing they’re dangerous.”
His eyes darkened as he studied the statues. “They are. Those two lions will rip any intruder to shreds.”
Gulp.
FOURTEEN
“I got it,” Amelia announced at dinner that night. “I got the job at the Vault!”
I gave her a high five. “Awesome. Wow. That was fast.”
“They must be desperate,” Cordelia said.
I kicked her under the table. She glared at me. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” she grumbled.
Amelia rolled her eyes. “Listen, Cordelia, I figured you’d be happy for me. I thought for once your general pessimism would be killed in the face of my super awesome happiness.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Cordelia’s mouth. “Maybe I’m a teensy bit happy.”
“Well so am I,” Amelia announced. “I start tomorrow.”
“Great,” Betty said, scooping out mashed potatoes onto everyone’s plates. “You can come back and tell us the Vault’s secrets.”
Amelia shook her head. “You know I’m not allowed to talk about the Vault. Its security is the most important thing in Magnolia Cove.”
“No,” I said, “guarding Axel when he’s a werewolf is. Or even keeping Rufus out would have been, but that’s a bust.”
Cordelia sipped her glass of tea. “How’s that going?”
I shook my head. “It’s not and my headache’s back. Maybe Axel can stop it. If it gets really bad, I’m going to have to use my power.”
Amelia grimaced. “And what about Rufus, what if he morphs your magic to do whatever he wants? Like break out of jail? Make people disappear into an alternative universe? Or even make you gain twenty pounds in like, two seconds?”
I laughed. “But you are right, isn’t she, Betty? If I use my power, Rufus can do whatever he wants with it?”
She shoved a forkful of turnip greens into her mouth. “That’s not something I want to think about.”
“But it’s true. The havoc he could wreak could be devastating.”
“It would be better if he was devastatingly handsome,” Cordelia said.
“I think he’s good-looking in a weird sort of way,” Amelia admitted.
The three of us glared at her.
“What? He is. Too bad he’s sick and twisted. I mean, I’m not saying I’m attracted to him.”
“That’s exactly what you’re saying,” Cordelia threw out.
Amelia forked a glob of mashed potatoes into her mouth. “I think you’re taking my words out of context.”
Cordelia flashed me and Betty a confused look. “I don’t think you even know what that sentence means. I didn’t take anything out of context. You said Rufus is hot.”
“That’s not what she said,” Betty added. “She said he’s good-looking in a weird sort of way. And I agree—the way demons in movies are attractive.”
I laughed. “That description fits perfectly. He is like a bloodsucker.” A shot of pain raced up my neck, and I planted my face in my palms. “Which is probably what that crazy guy is going to do with my power if he ever gets ahold of it. He’ll turn himself into a vampire for real.”
Amelia licked potatoes from her fork. “He does have a fetish for that from what I hear… Speaking of fetishes, Cordelia—“
Cordelia’s head snapped up. “I don’t like the way you put my name with the word ‘fetish.’ It’s kind of freaky.”
Amelia smiled. “I probably don’t know what the word really means.”
“Don’t be sarcastic.” She folded her napkin and plopped it on the table. “What is it?”
“I was just wondering how things were going with you and Garrick.”
Cordelia shot her a look filled with flying daggers. “It’s good. We’re good. Going slow. Having a nice time enjoying each other’s company. That sort of thing.” She glanced at her watch. “In fact, he’s supposed to be picking me up in a few minutes.”
Betty’s eyebrows arched with interest. “Oh? Where are you going?”
“We’re leaving Magnolia Cove, going to see a movie—that new one about the superheroes saving the world.”
“Sounds like you picked it,” I said.
“Hardly.” She pulled her long blonde hair from her shoulder and released a handful, letting it cascade down her back. “But I don’t mind. I just like talking to him.”
I frowned. “Is he going to be able to see a movie? You know Argus Amulet’s death is now a murder investigation.”
Cordelia bit her lower lip. “I’ll ask him if he just wants to ride around.”
“So you can neck?” Betty said.
Cordelia rubbed her forehead. “Yes, so we can neck so hard I have hickies all over my skin. Who even uses that term anymore?”
“I do.”
“Apparently.”
The doorbell rang, and Cordelia hopped up from her chair. “That’s him.” She kissed Betty on the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”
“I will.”
We started collecting dishes from the table when Cordelia opened the door.
And screamed.
The three of us dropped our plates and ran across the room. Well, not Betty—she sort of waddled at an incredibly quick rate, clipping along like The Little Engine That Could.
We reached the door. I expected to see a dead body or a ghost. Heck, I actually expected Rufus to be standing there, a blue orb of magic locked between his hands.
But no.
That’s not what I saw. Instead, filling the frame was a young man with short dark hair, golden eyes, a nose that looked to have been broken a few times, which made him look genuine and not as polished as he would have appeared otherwise.
“Zach?” Cordelia said.
Holy shrimp and grits. Zach was Cordelia’s ex-boyfriend. He was supposed to be somewhere out in the world studying magical history or something. The last place he was supposed to be was here. Tonight. Minutes before Cordelia’s new beau appeared to take her out on a dat
e.
“Zach,” Cordelia repeated numbly. “What’re you doing? You’re supposed to be in Borneo.”
Zach shuffled his feet. “I need to talk to you, Cord,” he said in a deep Southern drawl. “I’ve made a mistake. A terrible one.”
Cordelia glanced down the street. “Well, couldn’t you have figured that out earlier? Why are you here now to tell me this?”
Zach’s gaze swept over the rest of us. “Miss Betty, a pleasure to see you. Amelia, always good to witness your smiling face. And I don’t believe I know you.”
Cordelia pointed a limp hand toward me. “Zach, this is my long-lost first cousin, Pepper Dunn.”
“How do you do?” he said.
“Fine, thank you,” I said.
He dragged his gaze back to my cousin. “Cordelia, I was wondering if I could have a few minutes alone with you? I won’t be long.”
Cordelia shot Betty a help-me look. Betty boobed her way between my cousin and Zach.
“Listen, kid, for years you’ve been stringing my granddaughter along. Years. In the whole time you dated, you only visited Magnolia Cove once.” She lifted her finger. “One time in all those lonely days. One time while Cordelia sat by the fire staring at it longingly, hoping you’d return again.”
“Okay,” Cordelia said.
But Betty wasn’t finished. “Only one time you came, while my granddaughter flipped through wedding magazines, imagining herself on those glossy covers. But the whole time you were investigating early caves with magical carvings, while my granddaughter pined for you like no woman has pined before.”
“That’s enough,” Cordelia said. She steered Betty out of Zach’s direct line of sight, hiding her behind Amelia, who could only hide Betty in height, certainly not in width.
“I’m here to make up for all of that,” Zach said. “I’ve been a fool, Cordelia, and I don’t care who knows it.”
He bent down on one knee and pulled a black box from his pocket. He extended it toward her and popped open the lid.
My cousins and I gasped in unison.
Betty stuck her head out from around Amelia’s waist. “What is it? Well, what the heck do you know? The boy’s got stones after all.”