Curse Me Under the Mistletoe

by Kennedy Layne

  What are you trying to say, alien hunter? If you so much as suggest that my two thousand years on this earth could lend itself to dementia, it’s not a red-nosed reindeer that I’ll be eviscerating.

  “Would you two just stop?” Piper whispered urgently, stepping close so that the three of us appeared to be having a private conversation. “This is serious. Lou believes that Ammeline might have sent a warlock to see what we were up to, all the while being within a hundred miles of our location. We all know that the infamous Lich Queen is off her rocker. There’s no telling what she’s up to, and we shouldn’t be standing around as targets.”

  Piper was right, and I instinctively wanted to head to the Jeep so that we could seek safety in the RV until we decided which plan to utilize in our confrontation with Ammeline. I was leaning toward destroying her cane, particularly the crystal on the end. It was the phylactery that held her power, after all. If we managed to get rid of that, her soul could go to wherever it belonged.

  “What I’m trying to say is that Pearl heard what St. Nick wanted her to hear,” Orwin stressed, not letting any of us go anywhere. Where the cold air had been rather soothing when my nausea had been in full force, it was having the opposite affect now. I rubbed my hands together, unable to stop my gaze from attempting to seek out the warlock who could potentially be working with Ammeline. “Lou, he planted that song in your head so that you couldn’t hear his thoughts. Knox did something similar to me when he first began crossing our paths.”

  I suppose the song did sound a bit odd, almost hollow. As a matter of fact, it was as if it was coming out of a Victrola. I’m a bit confused, alien hunter. Are you suggesting that we spoke with a warlock working with that despicable supernatural being or…

  “What’s going on?” Knox had come jogging up the cobblestone path, not one bit out of breath. His skin appeared sun-kissed, even in the middle of winter, and there wasn’t even a hint of redness in his cheeks. His golden gaze landed on me, looking me up and down as if to make sure that I was okay. I honestly didn’t know. “Lou? Piper said there’d been an emergency and to meet back at the RV, but I saw your Jeep still parked across from the café. Are you alright?”

  You would do well to remember that your Mr. Emeric is a werewolf, dear hexed one. It is in his nature to hunt, and you’re about to serve up his prey on a silver platter.

  I understood and even agreed with Pearl to an extent, but this wasn’t just my fight.

  “Ammeline is within one hundred miles of us, Knox,” I stated without hesitation. After all, we were in this together. “She’s here.”

  This is the moment when St. Nicholas would ho-ho-ho.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Drink up,” Knox ordered, holding a cup of hot apple cider in front of me. Instead of driving away from this small town, we were now at the same table inside the bakery as we were this morning. “It will take the shivers away.”

  I’d begun shivering the longer we’d stood outside, but it hadn’t been due to the weather. You see, the nausea that had overwhelmed me had simply vanished the moment I’d pulled the keys from my coat pocket. I’d been all set to hunt with Knox. Not in the literal sense, but I’d been ready to finally have a lead that could guide us to Ammeline.

  Now?

  It was gone, along with our chance to get our lives back.

  You’re about to go into one of your sulking moods, dear hexed one. You’ll bring up miracles, how they don’t exist, and then I’ll be forced to come up with some spectacular knock-knock joke. Well, I simply won’t allow it. Drink up, buttercup. We have a murder mystery to solve.

  “Cotton ball is right,” Orwin said quietly, wrapping his hands around his own hot apple cider. “We’ll drive ourselves crazy with the whole what-if thing. I have thought of something, though.”

  It better be good or else that will be the last time you call me that, alien hunter.

  “What’s that, Orwin?” Piper asked, having taken the seat across from me.

  No one had bothered to take off their jackets. This break was only going to last long enough for me to regain my composure. Truthfully, I was just angry more than anything. We’d had her, and then she’d simply vanished.

  Had Ammeline somehow known our intentions?

  Had she figured out that she was no longer the hunter?

  On the other hand, Ammeline might simply have skirted past the radius of my proximity spell, on her way to a warmer area for her frail being. The bottom line was that we’d missed our chance, and the wasted opportunity was soul-crushing.

  Let me dust off my knock-knock joke book, Miss Lilura. And here I thought we were going for a three-day streak.

  I inhaled deeply, understanding why Pearl was pushing me to take a step forward instead of a step back. That didn’t mean I had to like it.

  “Well, we were only able to do the proximity spell based on Lou’s curse,” Orwin explained, pushing up his glasses before resting his elbows on the table. “Basically, any type of incantation such as that requires something from the caster. It’s similar to a location spell.”

  “I never did understand why you couldn’t simply do one of the scry things you do,” Knox said, having opted for black coffee. He, too, was resting his elbow on the table as he got a better handle on what could and couldn’t be done with magic. “Can’t you use our curses for a locator spell if you were able to use it for the other one?”

  “In normal circumstances, yes,” Orwin replied. “But we’re dealing with a witch whose physical being has basically ceased to exist. A locator spell can only locate physical items that have substance.”

  “A proximity spell works differently,” Piper chimed in, studying Orwin as if she realized where he was going with his idea. No doubt, it would be brilliant. He was an amazing warlock, but it was his ability with technology that was bar none. “Ammeline is here for a reason. You’re going to create one of those algorithm programs, aren’t you?”

  Fine, alien hunter. You’ve proved your worth. I won’t put you on my evisceration list quite yet.

  Piper admonished Pearl while Orwin just flashed a smile, almost as if he took her banter as a compliment.

  “We’ve already done our research on Liches. They bind their intellect and what is left of their souls to a physical object,” Orwin said, although he held up a hand when Knox was clearly confused about the material item. “We don’t have anything from her cane to be able to use in a locator spell. But think about this—Liches like to hole up in one place, such as in a cave on a remote mountaintop where no one can find them. Ammeline has been to Washington and North Dakota, that we know of in less than a year. Why?”

  “You’re going to use the proximity spell to begin tracking Ammeline’s visits.” It was the first time I’d addressed our predicament since we sat down. Orwin’s idea had merit, but it also required a load of patience. “Do you think she’s looking for something?”

  Or maybe someone, Pearl surmised. You might be onto something, alien hunter. I’ll reach out to some fellow familiars to see if they’ve heard any rumblings about the Lich Queen on a quest of her own.

  “If that’s the theory we’re going with, then who was the warlock in the Santa Claus suit?” I asked, not willing to let that slide. “He knew my name, as well as sensed Pearl’s presence. We’re gambling a lot if we let this slide.”

  In my two thousand years on this earth, dear hexed one, I have heard such rumors giving credence to a genuine St. Nicholas. What makes you so certain that he does not exist?

  Piper quickly got Knox caught up on Pearl’s side of the conversation. His tell of rubbing his five o’clock shadow was a sign of his own disbelief.

  “It’s not like we can do anything about it now,” Orwin pointed out. “Your Santa is long gone, Lou.”

  We all sat in silence for a moment, begrudgingly accepting that our moment had come and gone. I took another sip of my hot apple cider, allowing the warmth of the beverage to spread through me as I thought back to my conversatio
n with the warlock.

  Santa Claus, dear hexed one.

  “We could just call him Nick,” Orwin said, joining in on the name game.

  “Kris Kringle would work,” Piper added, flashing me a smile.

  “I need to start carrying around aspirin the way Orwin lugs around all those antihistamines,” Knox muttered, running a hand down his face in lighthearted frustration. “Are we really trying to come up with a name for Father Christmas?”

  “That was a good one,” Orwin surmised, shooting me a glance to see if their merry discussion had lifted my spirits. I hated that they all felt the need to soothe my anxiety. “Why? Isn’t that what friends are for?”

  “Friends know when to give someone a bit of privacy, as well,” I said with a pointed look. I did crack a smile, though. “I’m fine. Really. If Knox can handle the fact that he didn’t get to go on the hunt of a lifetime today, then so can I.”

  “We’ll find Ammeline,” Knox promised, his already rich voice dropping another level. “You have my word.”

  Well, now, it’s getting a tad bit warm in here, isn’t it?

  “We’ll finish up here, and then we can head back to the RV so that Orwin can start working on that algorithm,” I said, putting a plan in place while ignoring Pearl’s taunt about my friendship with Knox. Besides, I needed something to keep my mind off the fact that I wasn’t going to be hex free by tonight. “Knox, were you able to speak with Norma about the email exchange between Edgar and Mr. Wilkes?”

  “Sort of,” Knox hedged, tilting his head in a so-so kind of manner. “Vanessa somehow managed to convince Norma that she needed access to Edgar’s email. I read the exchange, but it was rather vague. It was almost as if they’d had a conversation beforehand about the pertinent facts of some misunderstanding, and this email was just a reminder that a lunch had been scheduled between the two couples. Oh, and there was mention of confusion over a date, but it was going to be a topic of their upcoming conversation.”

  “Maybe a future date on when Mrs. Booneville would make Mrs. Wilkes a full-time partner?” Piper mused, throwing out a theory as she gestured toward her phone she’d set on the table. “This app is worthless without all the facts. It really does make it hard not to be on the inside of an investigation.”

  Upon visiting the Wilkes, who are just lovely people, I did notice that there was a pumpkin pie in the oven. Perhaps it was made to take to Mrs. Booneville.

  “That would suggest that the women had already made up, so maybe that’s why the police don’t feel as if the couple are viable suspects,” Piper said, looking at Orwin for confirmation. “Unless the pumpkin pie was her way of apologizing.”

  “Maybe,” Orwin answered, though he didn’t look convinced. “The two detectives were pretty focused on Gracie Lynn, but we already know that she’s innocent. It’s sounding like the Wilkes aren’t viable suspects, either. We’re not left with a whole lot.”

  Knox leaned a little to his right as he reached inside the pocket of his winter coat. He pulled out his phone, looking down at the display. His frown was evident as he continued reading whatever message he’d just received.

  Would you please prompt the wolfman to share, dear hexed one? We don’t have all day.

  Piper and I shared a look of amusement, because neither one of us were that foolish.

  What namby-pambys. Mr. Cornelius, do you have a backbone?

  “Oh, so now you use my proper name.” Orwin made known that he was going to milk this moment. “You do realize that—”

  Whatever Orwin was going to say to Pearl was cut off when Knox finally revealed why he was mystified by the message. Knox even pushed back his chair, indicating that it was time to leave.

  “Vanessa said that the police confiscated Norma’s laptop the other day, so she wants us to meet her at the knitting shop. She can access the email exchange between Debbie and Norma on the shop’s computer.”

  “We’ve already read them,” Orwin pointed out with a frown of his own, which only caused him to sneeze. Technically, that was Pearl’s fault. “Remember, I hacked into the knitting shop’s mainframe. There wasn’t anything in there other than Norma responding to Debbie’s email to say that she wasn’t ready to make her partner. Debbie’s response was her resignation. Pretty cut and dried.”

  “Vanessa is already parked a few blocks down,” Knox revealed, standing with his coffee cup in hand. “It’s not like we have anything else to go on, so let’s go meet her.”

  You realize that taking Piper back into that knitting shop is like taking a book addict into a bookstore, right?

  “You can always steal her credit card,” I suggested after everyone had begun walking toward the door. Quite honestly, today had felt like a wasted twenty-four hours. We’d run nonstop in what seemed like circles since this morning, and we were no closer to finding Edgar’s killer than we were of locating Ammeline. On top of that, a knitting fanatic had been born. “I told you that you should have taught her to love crossword puzzles, Pearl. It’s entirely your fault if I end up with knitted underwear.”

  That would certainly be a sight to see, dear hexed one. I do believe it’s time to dust off my stealth skills.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Hey,” Vanessa greeted Knox with a smile, even going so far as to toss her long brown hair over her shoulder. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

  Such a nice she-wolf, isn’t she?

  I didn’t bother to reply, because I knew very well that Pearl was just trying to goad me into admitting that I’d been paid a visit by a little green monster. My visit with good ol’ Kris Kringle had been more than enough for today.

  “What is it that you think you’ll find?” Knox asked, holding the door open for all of us as we filed into the knitting shop one by one. “Could you not access your aunt’s email from her phone?”

  “Well, Debbie stopped by with a pumpkin pie,” Vanessa informed us, taking a moment to wave toward Julie, who was with a customer. “She mentioned that maybe after Uncle Edgar’s funeral, they could sit down and talk about the email.”

  Vanessa had stressed the two words, as if Debbie had done the same.

  Mrs. Wilkes is such a lovely lady, and her manners are impeccable, are they not?

  “I read through their email exchange, Lou,” Orwin stressed with a shake of his head. He’d had to remove his glasses after the lenses fogged up after entering the heated store so that he could clean them. “I don’t get it.”

  “Well, let’s find out before Piper buys any more patterns,” I said, noticing that Piper had managed to collect two more books with multiple patterns in each. Visions of all of us in matching Christmas outfits from head to toe for the next ten years floated through my mind. “Oh, we’re in so much trouble, aren’t we?”

  That crossbody purse of hers makes it very hard to gain access to her credit card, dear hexed one. Perhaps you could use your magic to break the credit card machine. No purchase means no more pattern books.

  “Vanessa, dear, how is your aunt doing?” Julie asked, having disengaged with the customer long enough to greet us from across the shop. “I spoke with her first thing this morning, but the store has been so busy since then that I haven’t had a chance to talk with her.”

  “A lot of the bridge club showed up today,” Vanessa said, taking her gloves off as the heat in the shop become rather stifling. “Don’t worry, though. They’re following the meal schedule, but they brought in some smaller things for Aunt Norma to munch on here and there. Listen, Aunt Norma needed me to get some things from the office. Do you mind if I go into the back room?”

  “Sure, go ahead,” Julie replied, frowning when she realized that we were with Vanessa. “Weren’t you two in here earlier?”

  It seems as if our cover story is about to be blown, dear hexed one. Now would be a good time to come up with a Plan B.

  “Yes, we were,” Piper replied with a sad smile. “I couldn’t believe it when I found out that Vanessa was the niece of Mrs. Booneville. W
e went to summer camp together many times during our childhood. We ran into each other at the bakery, so we thought we’d tag along to keep her company. Do you have a moment? I’d love to talk about this scarf pattern while Vanessa does what she needs to do.”

  “Of course.” Julie looked over her shoulder at the other customers before glancing uncomfortably at Knox. He could be a bit imposing with his military vibe. “Give me one moment to speak with Mrs. Barnett about her great-granddaughter’s baby blanket.”

  My sweet Piper is so cunning to keep Ms. Kirkham busy while we basically invade a widow’s privacy.

  That was certainly a new opinion of our situation, but Pearl’s obsession with etiquette had been tweaked a bit since we’d entered someone else’s domain without their knowledge. Well, it was too late to go back. Plus, there were things we needed to do in order to get the end result. In this case—justice.

  Piper motioned for us to go ahead while she stayed behind, already happily perusing other pattern books. Vanessa led the way to the back office, followed by Orwin, who was eager to see what he could have missed that his hackings skills hadn’t acquired. Knox fell into step beside me.

  I’d give the two of you some privacy, but I wouldn’t want to cause the alien hunter’s allergies to get any worse.

  “Are you really okay after what happened?” Knox asked softly, even leaning down a bit so that his voice didn’t carry. He could whisper, but Pearl would still hear him. “I’m as disappointed as you are that Ammeline isn’t still in the area, but we’ll figure it out. Orwin will create an algorithm, we’ll accumulate information, and then we’ll figure out her plan.”

  “That’s going to take a lot of time,” I reminded him, stopping just outside the back room so that I could answer him. “We didn’t even know if the proximity spell worked until today, Knox. At this rate, it’s going to take years.”

  We all know that your patience is rather thin, dear hexed one. There are times we aren’t given a choice but to dig deeper. Perhaps you’ll find a way to make the time go by faster.