Pawsitively Betrayed

by Melissa Erin Jackson

  Jack: No way.

  Kim: Ditto.

  Amber: PLEASE. I don’t know how many witches are about to descend on Edgehill.

  Kim: Coolest and scariest sentence you’ve ever said. Answer is still no.

  Jack: Your aunt is working on Penhallow-specific tinctures, ya? Can non-witches drink those?

  Amber had no idea. She didn’t want to find out what effect that might have.

  Kim: Oooh! What do they taste like?

  Amber: Horrible. And you can’t take them! I need you guys to pack your bags.

  Jack: Maybe I can add something from the bakery to make them taste better. Do you think cherry extract or vanilla would taste better?

  Kim: Cherry, obviously.

  Amber: You guys …

  Jack: Maybe I can bake the tincture into a scone. Would heat effect its potency?

  Kim: Amber, ask your aunt if that would work!

  Amber: Ugh. I’m turning my phone off. Please don’t be in Edgehill when I get back. I mean that in the most loving way possible.

  Jack: See you soon!

  Kim: You better be back in time for the parade!

  Amber was about to drop her phone back into her purse when Betty wrote back.

  Betty: Message relayed.

  Amber: Thank you. Things are about to get hectic there. You and Bobby should pack up Savannah and get the heck out of Dodge.

  Betty: Nothing doing, sugar. I’ve been doing my best to look out for you since you were a foot tall. I’m not about to stop now. See you when you get back.

  Amber was simultaneously touched and annoyed with her friends.

  The last person she had to get a hold of was Chief Brown.

  He picked up almost immediately. “I just got off the phone with your friend Agent Howe,” he said in greeting. “She more or less suggested that I needed to batten down the hatches because a herd of cursed witches is going to be in my town. That accurate?”

  “Yes,” she said. “You, Jessica, Sammy, and Izzy should all—”

  “You know dang well I’m not going anywhere, Amber,” he said. “I’ve got an obligation to this town as its chief, and I have an obligation to you, my best bud.”

  She managed a laugh but sobered quickly. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt, chief.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “We’ll get through this together though, okay? We might not have magic on our side, but our love of this town is pretty strong. Plus, no one wants to deal with the fallout if Kim’s festival is ruined.”

  He was right about that. Bianca the Festizilla was likely even worse, which was a sobering thought.

  “Anything of note happen while I was gone?” she asked.

  “Garcia mentioned that he’s seen a woman loitering near your shop,” the chief said. “The town is completely overrun with tourists and Betty’s bakery is swamped with people either waiting in line or fussing over that cat of hers, so I don’t know what it is about this woman that stands out to him. Call it intuition, I guess. All he can say is that she’s very intense, has jet-back hair, and ‘dead’ green eyes.”

  Amber got a flash of the dark-haired woman she’d seen at Balinese Park on Kids Day just seconds before all her toys attacked. Could it be the same woman? “Has she done anything other than creeping Garcia out?”

  “He said the woman seems more interested in what’s happening in Purrfectly Scrumptious than your shop,” the chief said. “His best theory is that the woman is a disgruntled past employee. I’m leaning Penhallow, but that’s not based on anything but a hunch.”

  “Is there any way you can station an officer outside the bakery until I get back?” Amber asked.

  “You got it,” he said, not asking any questions. Chief Brown was on a self-imposed need-to-know basis when magic was involved. “Give me a shout when you’re back in town.”

  After hanging up, Amber slumped back against her seat, her throat a little scratchy from all the talking she’d done over the last hour. It was then that she realized the three men in the car with her were all silently brooding. It would be a long car ride.

  Even if Edgehill was currently infested with cursed witches, Amber couldn’t wait to get home.

  They landed in Portland a little after noon. Banners hung above the escalators not only welcoming visitors to the city, but encouraging them to attend the Here and Meow Festival that weekend. Amber wondered if she could use a few wind spells to knock the signs loose. A pair of young ladies in front of her wore cat ear headbands, and one had on a backpack shaped like a cat’s head.

  As she followed Agent Barker to the parking garage, she spotted no fewer than five people wearing cat onesies. A woman stood at the baggage claim carousel while holding a leash attached to a little boy who wore a felt lion mane and tail. He ran around on his hands and knees roaring at amused passersby.

  So many innocent people who were traveling to her beloved town for a weekend full of feline fun, who had no idea what was brewing just under the surface. Her stomach churned.

  Edgar hadn’t said a word since they’d left Peaceful Meadows; he hadn’t even asked her what had happened while she attempted to get his father’s memories back. She supposed he didn’t want to know. The details didn’t really matter if his father had run out on him again.

  Raphael had told Edgar that he’d never planned to come back to him. Amber was sure that was a fear that lingered in the back of his mind as constantly as Neil’s disembodied voice. The decades-old “what if” had just been answered.

  The answer sucked.

  As they headed back to Edgehill, Amber rode shotgun in Agent Barker’s SUV, leaving Edgar to brood alone in the back. Agent Barker didn’t have much to say either, but his silence made Amber even more uneasy: she couldn’t read him the same way she could read her cousin.

  The closer they got to home, the more the Here and Meow Festival started to spill out beyond the town limits—a few roadside billboards featuring Ben’s winning design, a speed limit sign with a stuffed cat flopped over the top, and a car zipping past the SUV with the windows decorated with drawings of cats. On the back window, someone had written, “A cat festival? You’ve gotta be kitten me!”

  Within the town limits, banners hung from nearly every lamppost. An inflatable cat lounged on someone’s lawn, its head oscillating slowly, as if watching cars go by. Colorfully decorated wooden cats peeked over fences, and statues and metal cat silhouettes decorated steps, porches, lawns, and roofs. Elegant black cat-shaped balloons bobbed from the low gate around the Manx Hotel.

  Residents of Edgehill went all out with decorations for the Here and Meow like some people did for Christmas and Halloween—which Edgehill also fully embraced. The number of decorations had doubled since she’d been gone. Being away for two days made Amber even more aware of all the feline touches that graced the town on a daily basis. The cat-shaped mailboxes, the lounging stone cat statues outside the library that had spectacles perched on their noses and open books in their laps, and the cat fountain outside the Meowmm Yoga Studio, the centerpiece of which was a cat in an easy pose, a gentle spray of water shooting from between its upright pointed ears.

  Balinese Park was a sea of white pop tents now, the area already swarming with tourists taking a gander at the early sales items. The ending line for the 5K had been erected not far from the pond, the peak of the balloon arch swaying just below the large “FINISH” banner. A few food trucks were parked in the grass here, but Amber knew most of them would be set up on Himalayan Way, near the fairgrounds not far from Angora Threads. That was where the parade would end in a few hours.

  When Agent Barker pulled up outside The Quirky Whisker, he turned to her. “The best thing to do for now is to act as normal as possible. We don’t know if Raphael—” Edgar grunted at this, “is in town yet. We don’t know how many Penhallows are here, either. If you don’t tip them off that anything has changed, then it might buy us some time to formulate a solid game plan.”

  Which meant the WBI didn’t ha
ve a solid game plan.

  Amber nodded, then glanced into the back seat. “Did you want to come up? We could have a family meeting since I’m sure Aunt G and Willow have a million questions.”

  “If it’s all the same to you,” he said, gaze focused across the street at the busy sidewalk outside Purrfectly Scrumptious, “I’d rather go home. I’ve had enough family today.”

  Amber frowned. “Call me if you change your mind.”

  He didn’t reply.

  Sighing, Amber thanked Agent Barker for the ride, grabbed her duffel that had been wedged into the seat next to her, and climbed out. She watched the SUV drive away, then scanned the sidewalk outside Betty’s place, searching for the black-haired woman, but didn’t see her. It didn’t mean she wasn’t there, though, as she could have been wearing anyone’s face. Even the young boy walking down the sidewalk on her side of the street, headphones on and attention focused on his phone could be someone else.

  Feeling exposed out on the sidewalk, she let herself into her shop, locked up behind herself and then darted for the stairs, calling, “I’m back!” as she went.

  She came up short when she reached the top of the steps. Her tiny studio apartment was quite crowded. Willow, Bianca, and Simon sat on the side of Amber’s bed, and Aunt G, Kim, and Jack were seated at the dining table.

  Kim let out an enthusiastic “Yes!” when she saw Amber and rushed over to envelop her in a tight hug. She pulled away a second later and peered behind her down the stairs. “Is … uhh … is Edgar with you?”

  “He had a hard time with … everything,” Amber said. “Agent Barker took him home.”

  Kim frowned.

  Jack replaced Kim then and hugged Amber. She rested her chin on his shoulder and breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of him. He smelled like Purrcolate—coffee and sugar. “I’m glad you’re back,” he said.

  “Me too.”

  He pulled away and kissed her quickly. A cat call went up behind them from Willow. They both flushed.

  “I have good news,” Aunt G said, redirecting their attention. “The tincture is done.”

  Amber glanced at the window, hoping the apartment still had an active noise-cancelling spell on it.

  “No one can hear us, little mouse,” Aunt G assured her.

  “Mine is done, too,” Simon said. “After comparing notes, we’re both fairly certain they work. We figure downing them before the parade might be a good idea. Some can drink mine, and some can drink Gretchen’s to test them out.”

  “Glad you didn’t blow up either kitchen,” Amber said, wondering if the WBI had lied about the volatility of Penhallow blood.

  Jack took a seat at the table again, while Amber stood in the middle of the room between her two sets of guests and wrung her hands.

  “No, Kim,” Aunt G said, pointing a finger at Kim, who had reclaimed her seat across from her at the dining table. Kim snapped her mouth shut before the question could leave her mouth. “Non-witches can’t take tinctures. There’s cursed blood in these things. You’ll likely explode.”

  Kim gasped and grabbed at her imaginary pearls. Bianca and Jack both paled.

  Amber highly doubted any of them would explode but was also glad Aunt G had scared them all out of taking it.

  “So what’s the plan here?” Bianca asked, crossing her arms. “Can’t say I’m loving the idea of Edgehill filling up with witches—it’s like my horrific childhood all over again.” She winced slightly and offered her father a tight-lipped smile. “Sorry. But, well, horrific is the best word I have for it. I’m happy to help any way I can, though. I didn’t put this much work into the Floral Frenzy only to have it ruined by Penhallows.”

  “Finally we agree on something,” Kim said.

  Amber cleared her throat and six sets of eyes swiveled toward her. She felt like a teacher in front of a classroom. She gave them a condensed account of everything she’d learned while in Washington.

  “Isn’t it a time travel paradox to meet your future self?” Jack asked.

  “I thought that was only if you went back in time and killed your own grandfather because then you’d no longer exist,” Kim said.

  Amber’s head hurt again. “Hopefully we’ll have magical backup by the time the ritual happens tomorrow night. In the meantime, don’t talk about any of this stuff with anyone outside the group unless it’s in code or in a noise-cancelling bubble. Penhallows can be anyone. Keep an eye out for strange behavior. Preferably every non-witch has a witch with them at all times. Bianca with Simon; Willow with Kim; and Jack with me. Aunt G, can you stick to Betty?”

  Aunt G nodded. “Of course.”

  Simon stood then and fished two vials out of his pocket. “I think I should try Gretchen’s and vice versa. It might help us troubleshoot better if we can see where the other possibly failed.”

  Aunt G got up and fetched two vials from the kitchen.

  Amber and Aunt G downed Simon’s tincture, while Simon and Willow took Aunt G’s.

  Simon’s somehow tasted even worse than Aunt G’s protection tincture.

  Amber gagged and all the moisture in her mouth immediately evaporated. Aunt G hinged forward and placed her hands on her knees, nearly hacking up a lung as she did so. Willow and Simon’s tongues both unfurled from their mouths, as if they’d swollen to twice their size. Willow shuddered uncontrollably for nearly ten seconds, while Simon had a fist pressed to his mouth, tears streaming from his eyes.

  “Are they going to explode?” Kim asked from behind them.

  “I hope not,” Bianca said. “I really like this blouse.”

  Jack let loose a semi-hysterical cackle.

  When they finally all settled, Amber fetched bottles of water for them all. For a moment, she’d been truly terrified Simon had poisoned them. She drained the bottle in seconds.

  “I guess it’s time for a parade …” Amber said, despite how ludicrous it felt to go to a parade at a time like this.

  Kim looped her arm through Amber’s. “We’ll have fun, I promise! The line-up for this parade is great, even if we’re sharing it with Marbleglen.”

  “I can hear you, you know,” Bianca said, following behind Amber and Kim, who led the way down the stairs.

  “Oh, so you do listen to other people when they’re speaking,” Kim replied, voice full of false cheer.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing,” Bianca said. “I just have a hard time understanding you most of the time because I don’t speak Whiny Nonsense.”

  Kim dug her fingernails into Amber’s forearm. As they reached the bottom of the steps, and Amber pushed open the Employee Only door, Kim whispered, “If I give you a thousand dollars, will you turn her into a hamster?”

  Chapter 23

  The kickoff parade was a joint venture between Marbleglen and Edgehill, mostly at the behest of the towns’ two mayors. The fate of the parade hung in the balance for a short time after Marbleglen’s former mayor got caught up in the murder plot of the town’s previous police chief. The former Mayor Sable was now in a jail cell awaiting her sentence.

  Neither festival committee had been happy about this partnership, but even Kim had felt awful about even considering bailing on their arrangement when the new interim mayor of Marbleglen not only had to take over so quickly, but had to do so at the height of festival season.

  The parade started at Marbleglen’s town hall. Bianca and Simon were there now. Bianca, as the Floral Frenzy Festival Director, was needed at the parade’s start to make sure everything went off without a hitch. The parade would then make its way down Buttercup Road. Edge of Glen Pizza Parlor straddled the border, where Kim was stationed to oversee the midpoint checkpoint. Ann Marie and Nathan were positioned at the end, near the fairgrounds. They were all part of a group text message chain and were armed with walkie-talkies so they could keep in contact, in case something disastrous happened along the way.

  Amber knew that “disastrous” normally meant something like a wardrobe malfunction, or a mem
ber of the school band misplacing his trumpet. She just hoped “disastrous” today didn’t involve maiming by magic.

  Amber parked on a side street a few blocks down from the pizza parlor, and then she, Jack, Willow, and Kim made their way to Sphynx Way on foot. Kim periodically said things like “We’re almost at our destination, over,” into her walkie-talkie, to which Nathan would reply, “All quiet on the western front, over.” To which Bianca would reply with an exaggerated sigh.

  They found a decent spot between two large families who had come prepared with folding chairs and a cooler. Orange traffic cones had been placed at the end of streets that led to Sphynx Way, and every so often there would be a volunteer in a reflective vest to further discourage people from trying to cross the parade street, and to offer directions to lost tourists.

  Amber hadn’t told Chief Brown where she and her friends would be viewing the parade today, so she was surprised to see him just down the street from where they stood. Excusing herself, she walked half a block to where the chief stood between the front of his cruiser and the line of orange cones blocking off through-traffic. He had a cell phone pressed to his ear.

  Just as Amber approached, he hung up. “Hi, chief.”

  “Amber,” he said, nodding. He eyed the people lined up on the sidewalk on either side of the cruiser. They weren’t alone by any stretch of the word, but there was at least a few feet of distance between them and the waiting parade-goers. She stood beside him in front of the police car. “That was Agent Howe—again. She first gave me a call this morning to gently suggest I keep you in my sights as much as possible this weekend. She requested that I get in contact with her the second I see something fishy.”

  Amber scanned the crowd, not looking at the chief. They both only had eyes for the strangers lining the street. “And where is our friend Agent Howe now?”