Back Room Bookstore Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1 - 12

by Susan Harper

  “I don’t know how I feel about all of this,” Monica said. “This talk about your dad losing his memory. You think he would have told you about that.”

  “I don’t know,” Abigail said, circling around from where she had been lying down on one of the caskets. “I think it would be kind of a weird thing to bring up to someone you first met. Oh, by the way, when I was seventeen, I got pummeled by a softball and lost my memory and can’t remember anything about my life before that. No, I think I’m going to have to give everyone the benefit of the doubt on that one.”

  “Yeah, okay, you’re probably right,” Holly said. “But how about my stepmom being a witch? And Uncle Weston. That’s kind of crazy. My dad seems like a mortal to me, but then again, I did too. Do you think he might have something else in his ancestry he doesn’t know about?”

  “Maybe, but what are the chances of that?” Monica asked. “From what Weston was saying, it doesn’t sound like he thinks Joseph is anything other than a mortal like his wife Tora.”

  “That sounds about as likely as Joseph hooking up with a mystic and then marrying another one,” Abigail said. “There is something screwy going on here. I’m not sure what, but something is definitely up. For starters, I think we need to find out what Weston and Norah did to tick off the Sorcerer’s Council. I’ve never heard of them denying a license to a mystic who married a mortal. Do you have any idea what kind of crimes they must have committed for the council to decide they can’t be trusted to tell the truth to their own spouses?”

  “Good point,” Monica said.

  “What kind of woman do you think my dad is married to, then?” Holly asked nervously.

  “I don’t know,” Abigail said. “But we’re not going to find anything out hiding in here. We should get back to the viewing.”

  Monica and Holly agreed, so they slipped out of the casket display room and worked their way back into the viewing room. Monica took mental notes of everyone. She saw Weston, standing with his arms around Tora. He looked sad, but Monica felt that he was sadder for Tora than for his dead niece. If anything, he seemed detached from everything. Tora was bawling, using her husband as a shoulder to cry on.

  Roczen was seated with Marsha, both of whom were crying in a large loveseat in the corner. Marsha was bawling, her face in her hands. Joseph did not look much better. He had to wipe his eyes every time he spoke to someone coming to express their condolences. Beside him was Norah, just as unmoved by the ordeal as she had seemed the day before. Was it her way of dealing with the trauma? Pretending that everything was okay? She was acting like this was just some sort of family reunion as mourners entered to say their farewells to her daughter. She was done with her sewing project, it seemed, and after looking around for a bit, Monica realized what that project had been.

  Anniston seemed better now somehow. She wasn’t rocking back and forth. She wasn’t muttering to herself or trying to pull her hair out. Monica could see clearly that she had combed her hair now. The oddest thing was that she was carrying a doll around. She was much too old for this, of course, but it was making her much more comfortable. It was a small doll, just a little bigger than her palm. She held it close to her and based off the fabric, Monica suspected that this was the sewing project that Norah had committed her past twelve hours of labor to finishing. It was not a very pretty doll, just a plain little ragdoll, but for whatever reason, it seemed to be helping Anniston through the funeral.

  Monica approached Anniston, offering her a slight smile. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” Monica asked.

  Anniston smiled, and it was a warm and comfortable sort of smile. “I’m fine now, actually,” she said, squeezing the doll slightly in one of her hands. “I’m doing really well. I feel so much better today. I suppose I just had to cry it all out, didn’t I?”

  “I’m glad you’re doing better,” Monica said, feeling a bit odd over Anniston’s reaction. She was too perky. Her sister was lying dead in a casket a few feet away, and she was smiling and acting like she had never felt better.

  “Yes, thank you,” Anniston said. “I’ll be glad when today is over, though. Everyone is so sad.”

  “Yes, they are,” Monica said, staring at Anniston with a befuddled expression. Perhaps the girl had entered a state of denial?

  “911… 911… Emergency meet… Emergency…” a soft whisper came from around Monica’s ankle, and she looked down to see Abigail running past her. Holly was following, clearly having gotten the message already.

  “I’m going to…go find the restroom,” Monica said, excusing herself from the painfully enthusiastic Anniston.

  They slipped back into the room with the casket displays. “What is going on?” Monica asked as she closed the door behind her. “What sort of emergency are we having exactly?”

  “Yeah, I was just talking to my dad about his accident when you interrupted,” Holly said. “I’m pretty sure we’ve decided that this was important information, right?”

  “Yeah, well, I found something,” Abigail said. “I think I know why Norah and Weston can’t get reveal licenses.”

  “Oh? And what did you find?” Monica asked.

  “Norah has a tattoo on her ankle,” Abigail said.

  “So?”

  “It’s a word written in Cinur,” Abigail hissed.

  Monica cringed. Cinur was the secret written language of an underground society of witches and wizards known as Remembrance. Remembrance was, essentially, a terrorist organization. Holly covered her mouth, horror-stricken. “My stepmother… She’s part of Remembrance?”

  Abigail nodded. “Norah and Weston are Remembrance.”

  12

  Monica and Abigail waited in the casket display room. They had sent Holly on a mission to try to get Norah to follow her. They needed to talk. Monica stood, her wand at the ready. “Monica, please don’t take this the wrong way,” Abigail said softly. “But if Norah is really part of Remembrance, do you really think you can take her on in a wand duel?”

  “No,” Monica said, knowing good and well that she lacked the capability to work a wand in a one-on-one duel. “But if I catch her by surprise with a binding spell before she can get to her wand, then we shouldn’t have a problem, should we?”

  “You need to loosen the grip on your wand, then,” Abigail said. “Now, left foot back slightly. Movement is everything, you know.”

  “I know, I know,” Monica said, knowing that she had accidentally blasted her spells backwards on occasion. As an unnatural witch, spellcasting was not exactly her specialty. She was all about potions.

  The door opened. She heard Norah’s voice. “Yes, now, what exactly is it you’re wanting to talk to me about, Holly, dear?” Norah asked, stepping into the room.

  “Alliges duplicia!” Monica shouted, and a bright line of light shot from the tip of her wand, wrapping itself around Norah.

  Norah jolted in surprise, and she tumbled back just as Holly entered the room and closed the door. The glowing light had wrapped itself around her from her ankles to her shoulders, pinning her legs together and her arms at her side. “Witch!” Norah exclaimed in surprise as the binding light turned more solid, changing from lights to ropes before settling tightly around her. Norah struggled, and Monica could see her trying to wiggle her hand into her jacket pocket. Monica hurried over, locating Norah’s wand before she could get to it it and removing it.

  “Whoa, nice wand,” Monica said, more than just mildly impressed.

  Norah looked at Holly. “Did you know your friend was a witch?”

  “Of course, I did,” Holly said. “But I didn’t know you were one until we busted your brother with a wand.”

  “Okay, fine,” Norah said bitterly. “I’m a witch. Why the magical welcome party? What’s up with the ropes?”

  Holly knelt by Norah’s feet, rolling up one of her pants legs and revealing the Remembrance tattoo. Norah’s face turned bright red. “You’re part of an underground cult, that’s what’s up,” Monica said, keepin
g her wand pointed at Norah.

  Norah started at Monica for a moment. “Ah, you’re an unnatural witch… I can tell by the way you hold that crummy wand of yours.” She looked down at the ropes. “Pretty impressive spell for an unnatural.”

  “You’re a criminal,” Holly said.

  “I’ve paid my dues, Holly,” Norah said. “If my tattoo hadn’t been created by a dark magic, I’d have it removed. I’m not part of Remembrance anymore. Neither is my brother. You really think a couple of members of that cult would marry mortals? They hate mortals. They think they’re lesser breeds.”

  “Is that how you felt?” Holly asked.

  Norah frowned. “At…at one point in my life, yes.”

  “You expect me to believe you’ve changed?” Holly demanded.

  “Start talking, Norah,” Monica said, her wand still pointed at the woman. “If you’re not part of Remembrance, then what… What are you, really? Why are you here? What are you up to?”

  “What, you want my life story?” Norah asked, hissing slightly.

  “Maybe,” Holly said. “I did come here to get to know my father and his family, didn’t I? I guess that would include you, stepmother.”

  Norah sat upright, and frankly, she looked sad for the first time since Angel had died. “I’m not a monster,” Norah told her.

  “Yeah, right,” Holly snapped. “You think I haven’t noticed? Your daughter is dead, and you don’t even seem to care. Sounds like some messed-up Remembrance crap to me.”

  “My daughter is not dead,” Norah said.

  Abigail huffed. “Better stop them from putting her in the ground, then.”

  “The body is dead,” Norah said. “That’s all. Angel isn’t dead because she’s half of an Ibeji.”

  Monica lowered her wand. “Ibeji? That’s impossible.”

  “You’re full of crap,” Abigail hissed.

  “Um… Mortal-raised girl, here,” Holly said. “Mind filling me in, guys?”

  Monica glared at Norah. Surely this woman was lying. “An Ibeji is a powerful being—so powerful they split themselves in the womb to contain their souls into two separate bodies. They only come into existence if one parent is a mystic and the other an immortal. Which would be impossible because the immortals were killed off by the mystics during the Separation Era.”

  “Surprise, girls,” Norah said. “Your father—he’s one of the last immortals. He’s half-mortal like his mother,” Norah said. “His father was the last immortal. Killed by the Sorcerer’s Council when your father was merely an infant. His mother hid him from the mystic world, didn’t let them know he had been born. Kept him a secret. Kept his heritage from him.”

  “Did my grandmother erase his memory?” Holly asked.

  “Oh, no,” Norah said. “Your mother did that.”

  Monica glanced in Holly’s direction before looking at Norah. “According to magical law, your daughters…shouldn’t be here. Creating Ibeji is illegal.”

  “I know that,” Norah said. “But during my Remembrance days, I was stupid and enjoyed taking risks. Just like Holly’s mother, Morgan.”

  “You know her, don’t you?” Holly asked.

  “Yes,” Norah said. Norah took a deep breath. “Remembrance found out about your father. There was a plan put in place to use him to create Ibeji. Your mother, Morgan, was chosen. She seduced him. But after you and your sister were born, she wanted out. She wanted to protect you, Holly. She erased your father’s memories to protect him in case there was any inkling of knowledge of the mystic world and of her. She’s a powerful witch, your mother.”

  “Wait… I’m Ibeji… My mother was a witch?” Holly asked, and Abigail and Monica both took a few steps back. “Oh, come on, I’m not going to explode!”

  “No, you don’t understand,” Monica said. “Ibeji… One is destined, by fate, to kill the other in childhood… Otherwise, their powers keep growing.”

  Holly stared down at Norah. “My twin is still alive?”

  “As far as I know,” Norah said. “Which is nearly impossible. If an Ibeji reaches adulthood, the soul splits into two distinct souls. The death destiny breaks. By now, you and your twin are likely safe from one another. My daughter’s soul was still one. They were not two distinct persons. One soul in two bodies. It’s why Anniston was acting so mad. Half of her soul was floating around looking for a place to land.”

  “And you made the doll so Angel’s half could find a place to land,” Monica said.

  “That’s right,” Norah said. “Until it can merge with her body in adulthood, she’ll have to keep half her soul tucked away inside an object. I made her a doll. The object has to be made, usually by the Ibeji’s mother.”

  “You knew what your daughter needed,” Monica said. “I thought you were insane sitting around sewing like that.”

  “I must have seemed it,” Norah said. Norah turned to Holly. “Your mother had a full understanding of Ibeji. She knew you were only one soul, but she had a hard time with it. She wanted to keep you two separated to protect you from each other until you reached adulthood. She gave you to your father and took the other child away. One child in the mortal world. One in the mystic.”

  “My twin grew up as a witch,” Holly said.

  “Yes,” Norah said. “She protected you two from each other until your souls could form. I… I should have…”

  “No one died,” Abigail said suddenly. “Angel and Anniston were one person in two bodies. You shouldn’t feel guilty for not separating them. Ibeji are destined to merge into one body as they grow older.”

  Norah nodded. “I was afraid to separate them the way Morgan did with her girls. Who knows what sort of power you hold, Holly, that you haven’t unleashed yet as a fully-matured Ibeji?”

  “How do you and my mother know one another, exactly?” Holly asked, sounding overwhelmed.

  “Like I said, your mother too was part of Remembrance. She was selected by Remembrance leaders to create Ibeji twins—to seduce your father to create you. When you were born, though, she left Remembrance. She fled. They…wanted to try again. At the time, I was honored. Weston was excited for me. I didn’t expect to fall in love with Joseph. He’s half-mortal, after all. I loved him, and I still do. When my girls were born, I went to Weston. I told him how much I loved Joseph. He was furious, but he loved me. For me, Weston helped me to escape Remembrance. We used powerful magic to hide Joseph from them. And we turned ourselves in to the Sorcerer’s Council and fed them information about Remembrance. We of course didn’t tell them Joseph was part-immortal and that my daughters were Ibeji. They’d have them all killed. You mustn’t ever tell them, Holly. We settled down here in the mortal world. Then Weston met Tora. He too fell in love with a mortal.”

  Monica watched Holly pace. The answer she had been looking for was here. She had wanted to know what sort of mystic she was, and now she did. She was one half of an Ibeji. “If I found my twin now… What would happen?” Holly asked Norah.

  “Nothing,” Norah said. “Morgan kept you two separated long enough for two souls to form. You are no longer destined to kill one another.”

  “But not for your daughters?” Holly asked to be sure.

  “I have only ever had one daughter, Holly,” Norah said. “If anything, Anniston and I are mourning for your poor father who doesn’t understand that. He thinks he’s lost a daughter, but he hasn’t. Angel is Anniston. They are the same person.”

  “I did think they were awfully similar, even for twins,” Monica said.

  “Can you release me?” Norah asked. “You can hold onto my wand if that makes you feel better, but this rope is starting to chafe.”

  Monica waved her wand, and the ropes vanished. She held onto Norah’s wand, though. “I can’t believe my mother was part of Remembrance,” Holly said.

  “She left Remembrance, at great risk to herself, for you and your sister,” Norah said. “You must keep this quiet. If Remembrance ever found out that there were two fully-manifested Ibeji walk
ing around, you and your twin would be in great danger.”

  “My twin,” Holly said, looking to Norah expectantly. “You knew Morgan. Do you know how to contact her? My mother? I know you must have to keep it a secret from my father. But do you know my twin’s name? The name my mother gave her?”

  Norah was quiet. “Morgan and I have not spoken in years. She checked in on me not long after my girls were born as I had told her how I had betrayed Remembrance for your father… She was…proud of me. Morgan named your sister Kara.”

  “Kara,” Holly said, exhaling heavily. “And you have no way of contacting her?”

  “I’m sorry,” Norah said. “My brother and I have been exiled by the Sorcerer’s Council to the mortal world. I have no way of reaching out to her….” Norah wiped tears from her eyes. “I have no way of telling your father where his other child is. No way of relieving his pain and telling him that he has not truly lost a daughter. He is devastated, I know, and there is nothing that I can do for him right now except let him mourn.”

  “I’m so sorry, Norah,” Monica said and hesitantly returned the old Remembrance member her wand.

  “Thank you,” Norah said, tucking her wand away for safe keeping.

  “I have one more question for you, then,” Holly said.

  “Anything, Holly,” Norah said.

  “If Ibeji are destined to kill each other before adulthood,” Holly said, looking quite uncomfortable. “Did Anniston kill Angel?”

  13

  “I don’t know,” Norah answered, but she seemed to not care either way. “I’m assuming she probably did. Not intentionally, of course. Anniston-Angel, my Ibeji, wanted to live long enough for her to split into two souls. To avoid complications of having to carry that doll around. To assume their full power, that sort of thing, but she has been so distraught from Angel’s death and having half her soul unattached to a body that I haven’t been able to get a clear answer out of her.”

  “But she has the doll now, so that should help, right?” Monica asked.