by Amy Boyles
I stumbled. “What’s going on?”
Barry watched until the walls stopped. “This is what I call privacy. You need it when training dragons. They can become distracted easily. Hunt the wrong prey, that sort of thing.”
“And here I was worried the dragon would charge after one of those kids.”
Barry pouched out his bottom lip. “Not a concern at this moment. If the dragon was a bit older and untrained, maybe. But right now you’re safe.”
I scoffed. “Good to know.”
Barry stalked around our magical fortress. “Before we begin, there are certain things you need to know about the creature that will now be with you.”
I gulped. “Like what?”
“Dragons bond for life, for one. So once the bond is formed, it will seal the two of you. It will be a familiar and witch relationship.”
I crossed my arms. “What if we don’t bond?”
Barry grazed his fingers over the cage. “Then you have a mistress/beast relationship; it just isn’t at the same level.”
“Will the dragon try to fricassee me?”
Barry laughed. “Probably not.”
“Probably? You’re not making me feel confident, here.”
“I can’t lie and say otherwise.”
“What else?” I grumbled, not feeling particularly confident in how this dragon was going to fit into the rest of my life.
“Dragons are as loyal as dogs. You’ll find this creature to be one of the best out there. They can be a little wild, but they love to serve. Now, let’s open up the cage and get you two bonding.”
Barry clicked the lock. The door swung wide and the dragon stretched. It batted its eyes at me, yawned and said, “Mama.”
Barry reached inside and pulled the creature out. He hoisted it onto his shoulder, where the dragon curled around his neck.
“This is a pose they love when they’re young. I encourage you to let your dragon sit like this whenever you have free time.”
I snickered. “You mean like when I’m watching TV?”
Barry’s eyes brightened. “Exactly.”
Yeah. That’s not going to happen.
Barry scratched under its chin. “What’s this little guy’s name?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Dragon?”
Barry laughed. It was high pitched and the complete opposite of his macho man exterior. “That’s not an original name.”
I cracked my knuckles. “To be honest, I didn’t want him until my grandmother told me about the whole protecting thing. I don’t know what his name is—Fire Breather? Sally? I have no clue what to name him.”
Barry’s eyes sparkled with delight. “He will tell you his name.”
“In that case, his name must be ‘Mama’ because that’s what he says whenever he sees me.”
“Ah, so the connection has started. The two of you are linked. Wonderful. Now, let us start the real training. Take one of the mice from the box and hold it by the tail.”
I grimaced, but I did as he asked, taking one of the mice. “I don’t like cruelty to any animals.”
Barry stroked the dragon. “You’re thinking of this the entirely wrong way. This is the life cycle. That little mouse isn’t dying in vain. It’s feeding this dragon that will protect and help you. You must think big picture. Not be so small in your mind.”
“Okay, I won’t be so small in mind,” I said sarcastically, tossing a strand of hair over my shoulder.
Barry clapped and a leather glove similar to one a falconer would wear appeared over my outstretched hand. I still dangled the mouse, but now I had the glove over it.
“Call the dragon,” he said.
“Come here, boy. Get some food.”
The dragon opened one eye and stared at me. Then it closed its eye and sighed, snuggling against Barry.
“You must command the creature,” Barry said. “Command him. Tell him to come.”
Feeling like a great fool, I said, “Come!”
The dragon blinked both eyes open this time, but sank back to his nap.
A bit perturbed and feeling embarrassed that I wasn’t bossy and commanding the way I wanted to be, I reached into the very pit of my belly, opened my mouth and said in the most pointed way ever, “Get your rear end off him and get over here and eat this mouse. If you don’t, I will never feed you again.”
The dragon’s eyes snapped open. In one, two, three seconds, he uncoiled from Barry and flew straight toward me.
I closed my eyes and cringed as the creature swooped. I felt a tug as it took the mouse. Wings beat hard, fluttering my hair. I opened my eyes.
The baby dragon hovered before me. It was completely outstretched, the scales on its belly flaunting gorgeous jewel tones of purple and green. It flapped its wings and stretched its neck toward the sky.
The dragon howled. A stream of fire shot from its mouth before petering out.
The creature looked directly at me and said, “Mama.”
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “Mama,” I agreed.
“You must name him now,” Barry said. “That will help the bond you’re creating.”
As the dragon stared at me, I sensed him reaching out with his mind, felt him magically touch my power and noticed a flare in my core. My power stirred. For a moment, I felt complete control. It was like the pairing of this dragon to me would help me harness and control the magic. For the first time since learning of my power, I had the feeling I was in control of my magic, instead of it being the other way around.
I reached for the creature. My fingers glowed. The dragon sank toward my hand and I touched its head. A halo of power swept along my arms and up my throat, blanketing me in a warm cocoon of magic.
The name came to me as if the dragon had fed it into my mind. “Hugo?”
The dragon shot back and away, sailing up before plummeting to perch on my shoulder like a parrot on a pirate.
I wobbled, balancing under the added weight.
Barry laughed. “I think he likes the name.”
As if to agree with his point, the dragon opened its mouth and shot a line of fire into the air.
“Ah yes,” Barry said. “That is the name.”
I nibbled my bottom lip. “I sure hope so, because I certainly don’t want to end up burned toast.”
Barry crossed to me and pulled the glove from my hand. “Oh, they don’t generally shoot fire in their sleep.”
I wiped my hand over my forehead in relief. “That’s good to know.”
Barry stopped. “I said, generally. It could happen.”
Great. Just one more thing to worry about.
NINE
“So why are you walking around with a dragon on your neck?”
It was late afternoon. Axel had picked me up on his way to Witch’s Wardrobe.
I sighed. “We’re supposed to be bonding.”
Mischief danced in his blue eyes. “I don’t think you’re going to fit into the truck that way.”
He’d left the Mustang at home for the day and was patiently waiting for me to slip inside the single cab pickup.
“I could ride my skillet over.”
Axel raked his knuckles over his jaw. “I don’t have mine anymore.”
I squinted at him. “You got something against skillets?”
“They’re more for the ladies than for me.”
I laughed. “Not manly enough for you, huh? Would you like a dragon around your neck?”
“I’d take that over a flying skillet.”
I pulled Hugo from my shoulders. “He can sit in my lap.”
The dragon did. Rode just like a doggie in mommy’s lap all the way to Witch’s Wardrobe.
As the store came into view, I gnawed the inside of my lip before spitting it out. “Gretchen was pretty ticked at me last time I was here. Said she’d kick me out if I ever came in again.”
Axel slid into a spot and killed the engine. “You’re with me. She won’t be kicking anyone out of her store.”
&nb
sp; I placed a hand over my heart. “Great, ‘cause I was so worried.”
“No, you weren’t. You were joking.”
I smiled widely. “Maybe.”
We strolled inside and found Gretchen sorting an assortment of Flutter Dresses. A Flutter Dress, as I found out not long ago, is supposed to help a person be better at a specific task—like dancing. Of course, nothing works out easy for me. I got stuck inside a dress and couldn’t break free. I do blame my aunts—mischief witches extraordinaire. They were currently lying low since last week’s fiasco with the festival. But I knew they’d return.
Anyway, in my attempt to rid myself of the dress, I nearly destroyed Gretchen’s store. So she kinda dislikes me.
I don’t suppose I blame her.
Gretchen smiled when her gaze settled on Axel. She frowned when she saw me, though her eyes flared at the sight of Hugo wrapped around my neck.
“Is that a dragon?” she said, her hands flailing in total fan girl mode.
I clicked my tongue. “It sure is. Would you like to pet him?”
She wiggled her fingers. “Yes. I would love to pet him. What’s his name?”
“Um. Hugo.”
Hugo’s gaze flickered to me as if to ask if I needed something.
“He’s beautiful,” she said.
“Thank you.”
Gretchen’s brows pinched together and her lips pursed, making me think she hadn’t exactly forgiven me for nearly wrecking her shop.
While she stroked the dragon, Axel started the questioning. “It’s terrible about Mysterio, isn’t it?”
Gretchen sucked her lower lip. “I would say that it is.”
I pressed Hugo into her arms and decided to play stupid. “It’s horrible, really. I don’t know if you attended the show but my mother’s spirit appeared and Mysterio said she had a message for me. I went to his dressing room to get it, but he ended up leaving for dinner.” I smacked my palm to my forehead. “Oh my gosh, that’s right! You came in and picked him up.” I grabbed her arm as if we were best friends. “Are you okay? You must’ve been so close to him. Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Gretchen sniffled and hugged Hugo to her. A bit brave, if you ask me. If I’d just met a dragon, I sure as heck wouldn’t be embracing him as if he were a toy poodle.
“It’s okay, really. I’m thankful I met Mysterio and had the chance to spend the time with him that I did. It wasn’t a lifetime, but it was worth it.”
I shot Axel a look. So had they been lovers?
“He must’ve been a great boyfriend,” I said. “He seemed like it, and you don’t appear to be the jealous type at all.”
Gretchen’s mouth ticked up. “Mysterio had a lot of love to dish out. So much love can’t be contained for just one person.”
“So you let him sleep around,” Axel said.
My eyes widened. “Why not just cut to the chase?”
“What’s the point?” He glanced at Gretchen. “We’re trying to track down what exactly Pepper’s mother wanted her to know. We found a notepad of Mysterio’s with this address on it along with a partial note from Pepper’s mom, or so it appears.”
Gretchen handed Hugo to me. “Why wouldn’t he have had this address? We saw each other every time he came into town.”
Axel traced a thumb across his lower lip. “But why would he need it? Wouldn’t he have known it by heart? Why write it down?”
“That’s a question I can’t answer. Mysterio was a man who knew what he wanted.” Her eyebrows shot to peaks. “Plus he knew where to find me. He didn’t need a reminder.”
“His cape murdered him,” I blurted out.
Both heads swiveled to me.
I cleared my throat as dots of heat popped on my cheeks. “What I mean is, you make clothing that can do things. His cape took control and killed him. We found a sheet of paper with your address ripped off. You say you didn’t mind him having other girlfriends, but is that true? Seems to me you could’ve empowered the cape to kill him in a jealous rage.”
Gretchen smiled. “First of all, Mysterio’s cape was made years ago and not by me. My power works on clothing that I created, not on someone else’s work. Everyone has limitations with their magic. That’s mine.”
That was awfully convenient for her.
“Let me show you something.”
Gretchen walked to the rear of the store. We followed.
“Way to play bad cop,” Axel said.
“I want to know what my mother said. That’s what this is all about. I don’t care about anything else.”
He placed a hand on my back. Warmth radiated into my flesh and I immediately felt comfortable, safe. But I reminded myself I’d only known him a few weeks, and his past and his PI experience made him unlike anyone else I’d ever known.
Gretchen flipped a switch, illuminating a storage room. Boxes of all shapes and sizes lined the walls.
“Mysterio’s been coming to Magnolia Cove for years. We’ve been meeting ever since the beginning. He couldn’t be mine. I accepted that years ago, and never questioned it. But someone else might not’ve.”
She pressed a shoebox into my hands. I lifted the lid and found letters bound in rubber bands. Dozens of them. “What’re these?”
Gretchen folded her arms. “Mysterio lived in his van most of the time. See, he needed places to store things—items that he couldn’t keep with him. Told me he wouldn’t have saved these, but he felt compelled to for some reason.”
Axel picked up one of the banded envelopes and slipped a paper out. “Love letters?”
Gretchen nodded. “Hundreds of them, if not thousands.”
I riffled through the stack. “From who? You?”
Gretchen barked a laugh. “You’re kidding, right? I don’t write love letters to men. Men write them to me.”
Well someone thought highly of themselves, didn’t they?
“Okay,” I said slowly. “So who are they from?”
The bell from the front tinkled. Gretchen grabbed the box and set it with the others. She whirled past us and flipped off the light. “Come.”
She reached the front, with me quick on her heels. “Welcome. Let me know if I can help you with anything.”
I rounded the corner and saw Cordelia nosing about the shop. My cousin waved dismissively. “Thanks, Gretchen. I’m just looking. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
I smiled at Cordelia, who flashed me a quick nod. Then she returned to poking her nose in the jewelry. That was weird. It surprised me that she didn’t give more of an acknowledgment.
Gretchen turned toward us. “But anyway, Mysterio had me keep the thousand or so letters.”
“Why?” I said. “Since they were for him and weren’t from you.”
Gretchen pinched her fingers on a shirt collar and rubbed the fabric. “You think it’s odd that a current lover would be holding onto letters from another lover?”
Axel rubbed his neck. “You could say that.”
Gretchen smirked. “Thing is, they weren’t from a lover.”
I clicked my tongue. “What do you mean?”
Gretchen lowered her voice. “They were from someone who wanted to be Mysterio’s woman, but wasn’t.”
It took a moment for dawn to crack in my brain. “You’re saying this was unrequited love?”
“Exactly.”
“Then why keep the letters?”
“In case something like this ever happened.” Gretchen leaned in. The faint smell of her rose perfume trickled up my nostrils. “In case Mysterio ever died mysteriously, he wanted proof that there could have been foul play.”
“So he had a stalker?” Axel said.
Gretchen shrugged. “I’m not sure if you would call her a stalker, but the relationship didn’t go two ways. It was a one way street with her pushing feelings on Mysterio that he didn’t return.”
“Have you shown these letters to the police?” Axel said.
The bell above the door tinkled again. In strode all six-foot-five o
f Garrick Young. His gaze swept the store, landing briefly on Cordelia, whose eyes flickered away as if Garrick was on fire.
“Ma’am,” Garrick said.
Cordelia whispered a greeting.
His eyes swiveled to us. “Axel, you here about Mysterio’s murder?”
Axel rocked on his heels. “Now friend, what would make you ask that?”
Garrick nodded at me. “‘Cause that girlfriend of yours likes to solve murders.”
I fisted my hands on my hips and said, “As a matter of fact, I’m trying to figure out what message my deceased mother may have given Mysterio. I believe there may be clues in his van. Is it open for me to comb over?”
Garrick shook his head. “Not yet and nice to see your dragon again.”
Hugo yawned. I stroked his head. “Thanks. We’re bonding.”
“Miss Gargoyle, may I speak with you?”
Gretchen walked away and like that, our clue was gone. She’d been whisked off by Garrick, who would find out all about those love letters.
I pulled Axel aside. “Do you think the person who wrote those love letters is who we’re looking for? Maybe she found out about Gretchen, wrote the address and then tore the page?”
Axel scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re assuming a couple of things. One is that the person entered Mysterio’s room. If this is someone he was leery of, the magician wouldn’t have let them in.”
“Mm. That’s true. But Gretchen has a point. There wasn’t any reason for Mysterio to write down her address. He knew it.”
“True. Okay, so let’s say hypothetically someone did enter Mysterio’s room.”
“Maybe he wasn’t there, they found something with Gretchen’s address and wrote it. The problem, though, is that Gretchen didn’t say she’d been visited by anyone.”
Axel lowered his voice. “Maybe the killer didn’t need to. Clearly, it wasn’t her they were after—it was Mysterio. He’s the one who paid the ultimate price.”
“Good point.”
Garrick had Gretchen in back. Axel steered me toward the front. “Looks like Gretchen’s going to be busy for a while. What do you say we get out of here?”
I stroked Hugo. “But what about the letters? We don’t know who wrote them.”
