Witch Inheritance (A Mackenzie Coven Mystery Book 1)

by Sonia Parin

  “Look around you. Everyone is doing their best to get on with it while she’s wallowing. She has no reason to. It’s all worked out perfectly for her.”

  “Edward Scissorhands,” someone across the room shouted.

  Henrietta rolled her eyes.

  Distracted by the excitement around her, Lexie tried to find the thread of the conversation. They’d been headed somewhere…

  She smiled at the group playing charades. It looked like fun. Ellsworth waved to her. She should excuse herself and go join in the fun, she thought.

  “I never asked why you’re here,” Henrietta said. “Are you a friend of the family?”

  Lexie gave a distracted nod and half rose from her chair.

  “I don’t recall seeing your name on the wedding guest list. I told Reginald he needed to keep me informed of everyone he was inviting.”

  “Oh, I won’t be attending.” She met Bertie’s gaze. They exchanged polite smiles and nods.

  Taffy approached. “Miss Alexandra. Would you care for a refreshment?”

  Lexie felt a tug compelling her to join in the fun and drink the day away. It felt easier to say yes, so she did.

  As Taffy handed her a glass of champagne, Lexie caught sight of Reginald moving toward the door. No one else seemed to notice and she couldn’t think of a reason why they should. Why worry when there was so much fun to be had?

  Something poked her in her mind.

  She straightened. Focusing, she looked at Reginald again. He appeared to be dragging his feet.

  When he reached the door, he opened it but didn’t release the doorknob. He looked over his shoulder, his face contorted into panic.

  Laughter broke out. Lexie turned to see what had caused it. Bertie had crouched down on all fours and was doing a perfect imitation of a dog sniffing the floor.

  “You ain’t nothing but a hound dog,” she called out.

  Bertie gave her a thumbs up sign and everyone burst into cheers. This really was fun. Lexie shifted to the edge of her chair and was about to rise when Henrietta spoke again.

  “Reginald is bringing the wedding date forward. You should stay.”

  Reginald.

  She’d been thinking about him a moment ago, except she couldn’t quite remember why.

  The fake heir…

  Lexie giggled.

  She looked down at her empty glass.

  When had she drunk it?

  “More champagne, Miss Alexandra?”

  “Yes, please. It’s rather delish.”

  Delish?

  Was that even a word?

  The floor beneath them rumbled, but no one appeared to notice. The rumble picked up momentum and turned into a roar.

  It sounded familiar.

  Lexie?

  “I’m sure Taffy can organize a dress for you to wear to the wedding. You only need to ask and he’ll do it for you,” Henrietta suggested. “He’s very good at providing.”

  “I’m tempted.” Lexie sat back and dreamed about a beautiful Dior gown. Would Taffy be able to conjure a classic Dior? Maybe something from the nineteen fifties. She remembered seeing an exhibition at a gallery…

  The roar swirled around them but no one appeared to pay it any attention, not even Lexie. There were other things to think about. Fun things…

  Lexie? Are you there? What’s going on?

  So many questions.

  “I suppose you have your wedding dress all sorted out.”

  “Yes, it’s a bespoke Vera Wang.”

  Bespoke. She liked the sound of that. It spoke of exclusivity and luxury and…

  “Miss Alexandra. Your glass is empty. Would you care for a refill?”

  “Yes, please. Thank you, Taffy.”

  She watched as the bubbles danced up to the surface. “This is delish.”

  “It’s Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque.”

  That conjured the most delightful images of grandiose houses and parties and laughter and lots of champagne.

  “Thank you, Taffy.” She looked up in time to see him pick up a glass of champagne and tip the contents over her head.

  “What the—”

  Lexie. Snap out of it.

  Lexie jumped to her feet. Taffy appeared nonplussed. In fact, he nodded and turned toward another group as if nothing had happened.

  Get your butt out of there. Right now.

  “Why am I wet?” She felt a poke on her back. “Hey. Quit pushing.”

  Something’s going on.

  “Of course something’s going on. Didn’t you see the way Reginald left the room?” Lexie’s mouth gaped open. “Oh. Now I remember. I think someone… something dragged him out of here while we were all…” She looked over her shoulder at everyone having fun and drinking champagne and talking about bespoke dresses. Her step faltered.

  Stop it.

  Another poke. “All right, I’m moving.” With some effort. That champagne she’d drunk had gone straight to her legs.

  “We heard a roar. What was it?” Mirabelle asked.

  “Oh, hello. You’re back.”

  “Yes, the connection with you in that room kept dropping off.”

  “Do you think it has something to do with someone in there? I do have a theory… let me think… Oh, yes. Someone is manipulating us. Distracting us… Taffy. Taffy… I was going to say something about him…”

  “Never mind, Taffy. Why did Reginald leave the room? Could it be him?”

  She checked the foyer and hurried toward the library.

  A cacophony of solid objects being thrown about broke out. Lexie pushed the door to the library open and saw Reginald throwing books and anything he could get his hands on around the room.

  Something shifted behind the desk and then she saw it.

  “The inky black fog.” It peered at Reginald from behind the desk. Another book went flying in its direction.

  “I thought we’d decided to call it the menace,” Catherine said.

  “Yeah, we did. Where’s Mirabelle?”

  “She’s checking on Evangeline. What’s going on?”

  “Well, the menace looks rather scared. Reginald found his weapon of choice.” Another book went flying across the room. “I think he’s found the menace’s kryptonite. It doesn’t like books.”

  “But isn’t it meant to be looking for the St James book? What’s it going to do with it once it finds it if it doesn’t like books?”

  “Who knows? Maybe it’ll manipulate someone into reading it. Hey, there’s an idea. Maybe this whole thing has been about getting someone who knows where the book is and forcing them to act as proxy.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Well, it’s better than asking more questions. That’s one possible answer down, who knows how many more to go before we get to the bottom of this.”

  “Was that another question?” Catherine asked.

  “Yes, I should have added an inflection at the end.” To her surprise, Reginald signaled for her to leave. He actually looked concerned for her wellbeing. “I’m here to help,” she said.

  The menace wavered. As Reginald looked at her, it took advantage of the momentary lapse and lunged toward him.

  “Watch out,” Lexie shouted.

  This time, Reginald threw two books at the menace. It swept around the library and disappeared into the fireplace.

  Reginald collapsed onto a chair, his breath coming hard and fast.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded.

  “Why did you come to the library?”

  “I don’t know. One moment I was playing charades and then the next moment I shot to my feet. I tried to resist but something took hold of me and wouldn’t let go.” He clutched his throat.

  Could it be the same something that had gone after Henry?

  Maybe the inky black… the menace, needed a person to search for the book. They had to find out who was behind it… It had to be someone who couldn’t make their presence known. It seemed to have targeted Reginald a couple
of times now. When they’d discovered Henry dead, Reginald hadn’t looked himself. Lexie had put it down to shock and the sudden dawning of responsibility that lay ahead. But now Lexie knew better… Would Reginald confide in her?

  “Reginald? What exactly is your role in this family?”

  He raked his fingers through his hair and huffed out a breath. “Stooge.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A knock at the door had them both stilling. “I doubt our inky black fog has manners,” Lexie said.

  Taffy entered.

  Reginald straightened. “Taffy? You don’t usually knock…”

  “My apologies, sir. I saw Miss Alexandra follow you into the library and…” he cleared his throat.

  Lexie frowned. How could Taffy have seen her? He’d been in the process of pouring drinks.

  Taffy tapped his nose. “I have a sense about such things. It runs in the family. And no, I did not read your mind. I simply read your puzzled expression.”

  “Well, rest assured, there’s nothing going on between Reginald and me.”

  Taffy lifted a brow. “If you say so, Miss Alexandra.”

  “I do say so. I’d never… Him? Me? No.”

  Reginald turned to her. “Apart from the fact I’m engaged, what other reason would you have?” He threw his shoulders back and puffed out his chest.

  “I… I have a boyfriend.”

  “Really? What’s his name?”

  Lexie knew she couldn’t waver. “Jonathan.”

  “Taffy?”

  Taffy looked at her long and hard and then nodded.

  Reginald shrugged. “Right. Well. That’s settled.”

  “What?” Lexie looked from one man to the other. “What’s settled?”

  “Your boyfriend. Taffy verified it.”

  “And how exactly did he do that?”

  “It’s a Taffy trait. Runs in the family.”

  “If it’s a Taffy trait, then it can hardly run in the family.”

  “Yes, it can if everyone in his family is named Taffy.”

  “How can that be?”

  Reginald gave another shrug. “We’ve always had a Taffy working at House St James. We don’t question it. It simply is.”

  Lexie gave a small shake of her head. “Hang on. So… when you said he verified my boyfriend’s name…”

  “He confirmed it. Taffy can always pick up on a fib.”

  But it was a fib.

  She and Jonathan?

  She’d be lucky if he ever talked to her again… if she ever returned home.

  “Taffy?”

  “Yes, Miss Alexandra.”

  “Do you remember tipping the glass of champagne over my head?”

  “Yes, Miss Alexandra. I do indeed. I was compelled by…” He tapped his chin. “The name escapes me. My apologies.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Taffy.” She’d have a word or two to say to Mirabelle. Surely there were rules even she had to abide by.

  “Well, as long as you’re here, could you please help us put these books away.”

  “Certainly. I know it isn’t my place… however, may I ask why the books are strewn all over the floor?”

  “I was defending myself, Taffy,” Reginald explained.

  Taffy gave a small nod. “I take it the inky black fog made another appearance.”

  “You know about it?” Reginald asked.

  “Hey, we call it the inky black fog too,” Lexie said.

  “Well, that is its name,” Taffy said.

  “We’ve also been referring to it as the menace. No capitals. Otherwise that would fill it with too much self-importance.”

  “That sounds like an appropriate name too.”

  “But how do you happen to know about the inky black fog?”

  “It’s part of… part of everything. It always has been and always will be. And I only know what has been passed down to me.”

  Lexie sunk down onto a sofa and patted the space next to her. “Do tell.”

  Taffy looked at Reginald. “May I?”

  “Yes, of course. By all means. Do sit down.”

  “It is rather a long tale. As retold by many generations of Taffys. I’ve considered writing it all down to make it easier for future generations of Taffys, but it is prohibited.”

  “Out of curiosity, is there a Mrs Taffy, Taffy?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Mrs Taffy.”

  “Of course.”

  Lexie. What the hell is going on in there?

  “I’m discovering all sort of things about Taffy.”

  And how is that pertinent to our investigation?

  “What investigation?” Mirabelle didn’t answer. Lexie shrugged and turned to Taffy. “Where were we?”

  Lexie!

  “Make up your mind, Mirabelle. Either you want to talk to me, or you don’t. You can’t have it both ways.”

  You have to go see what is going on with the others. There’s a reason why you’ve all been drawn to the library.

  “I came because I was following Reginald,” Lexie said.

  “You were?” Reginald asked.

  “Yes. We think you might be up to something,” Lexie admitted.

  Lexie! Why are you telling him that?

  “I think it’s the Taffy effect. He has some sort of truth compelling talent. Maybe that’s how he manages to anticipate everyone’s needs. And please stop interrupting. He’s about to tell us a story.”

  Reginald cleared his throat. “I’m not happy about being a suspect.”

  “I feel your pain, Reggie. But you have been acting rather suspiciously. And you’ve been letting everyone think you’re the next in line.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Care to explain?”

  Reginald exchanged a look with Taffy.

  “It’s a failsafe position. I told you, I’m a stooge. Every second in line pretends to be the natural born successor.” He sunk into a chair and stretched his long legs out. “We think of it as taking necessary diversionary tactics.”

  Taffy nodded. “Because of the inky black fog.”

  “Oh, I see. And what exactly is the inky black fog after?”

  “Causing mayhem,” Taffy offered. “It thrives on disrupting the natural course of events. Lately, it seems to have become feral.”

  “Where did it come from? When was it first reported?”

  Taffy looked up at the ceiling. “Let’s see, the first Henry St James settled here five hundred years ago. When he moved in, he invited the Mackenzie coven to cast a spell of protection over the house and then… Well, that part is for our ears only.”

  “Not if you want us to take care of the inky black fog.”

  I thought we were calling it the menace?

  “Hush,” she told Catherine. “Out with it, Taffy. This is no time for secrets. You said it yourself. The inky black fog has gone feral. What if it goes after the entire line of succession? No more House St James. There’d be no one left for you to… please. You’d be out of a job, Taffy. It would be the end of your line too.”

  He looked at Reginald. “With your permission, sir.”

  Reginald nodded.

  “It is rather complicated… yet simple but I’m afraid it casts a shadow over the magnificence that is House St James. The first Henry St James recognized the power held by the Mackenzies and he decided he couldn’t risk losing what he’d gained. What they’d given him, they could take away. So after they cast the spell over the house to make it the happiest place around, he engaged a third party to add an addendum, so to speak, thereby forging the seal and prohibiting three members of the Mackenzie coven from gathering here at the same time.”

  “Third party?”

  If he doesn’t tell us, we’ll be forced to compel him.

  Taffy cleared his throat. “Too late, the first Henry St James realized he’d made a mistake. There was darkness in the seal he commissioned. It played havoc with the original spell cast
by the Mackenzies. Instead of all bad omens and ill tidings dissipating into the ether, the commissioned spell began to feed on it giving birth to the inky black fog.”

  “Bad omens?”

  “The Mackenzie spell ensures only happiness dwells within this house, but of course, badness lurks everywhere. The spell acts as a vacuum, cleansing the house.”

  Lexie nodded. “I see. And the inky black fog gobbles it all up before it can disappear.”

  “Precisely. It has developed a voracious appetite for all negative, dark energies. The late Henry St James had kept it in check all these years. But as he headed toward the end of his days, it rebelled.”

  “Are you saying he had control over it?”

  “Precisely.”

  “How?”

  “He would fabricate… anger. Any situation could serve his purpose. It took a toll on his temperament. In his youth, he’d been so jolly. But as the years progressed, he became embittered. Angry. He’s snap at anyone and everyone. Meanwhile, the inky black fog kept gorging on everything Henry fed it. But its appetite couldn’t be satisfied. It always demanded more.”

  Lexie?

  “I’m thinking.”

  Yes. We feel it. What’s on your mind?

  “In a minute.” She stood up and strode around the room. Her pacing became agitated. The pieces had to fall into place. They were right there, in front of her.

  “Miss Alexandra?”

  “Yes, Taffy.”

  “Do you think you might be able to hurry your thinking process along?”

  “Why is everyone suddenly so impatient with me? I’m a novice at this. I had no idea what I’d be getting myself into. Suddenly, I’m supposed to be an expert.”

  A gurgling sound followed by a hard thump had her swirling around.

  “What was that?”

  Taffy stood in front of Reginald, a heavy tome in hand. He drew his hands back and swatted at the air around Reginald.

  “The inky black fog is back.”