Pawsitively Betrayed

by Melissa Erin Jackson

  Amber almost felt bad for Kieran. She sent a quick text to Chief Brown letting him know where they were.

  Then she addressed Willow. “What do we tell Agent Howe? We have to make a call on whether or not we trust Kieran, and then we have to stick with it.”

  In less than a minute, they were surrounded by Agent Howe and two other agents. They scanned the area around them, eyes wide and searching.

  “What happened?” Agent Howe asked Amber. “What made you leave your post without informing your chief first?”

  “Uhh …” Amber eloquently said, looking to her sister for help, but noticed the subtle movement of her lips.

  “I saw John Huntley!” Kim yelped suddenly, drawing all the agents’ attention away from Willow. She squeezed in between Amber and Jack, Willow slightly behind them. “I don’t know if you know but I’m the head of the Here and Meow Festival and—”

  “I don’t see how this is relevant—” Agent Howe started.

  “And!” Kim said, talking over her, “I was the mastermind behind getting John Huntley to the festival. He loves cats. Who doesn’t love cats? I didn’t expect to see him at the parade, so when I saw him, I said hi, but I did it with a little more intensity than a normal hello because I can sometimes be a lot, you know? He must not remember me though because he ran away when he saw me coming. I was like, Oh no, John, it’s me! I’m in the here and now at the Here and Meow! Isn’t that cute? I—oh my God, is that float on fire?”

  Amber smelled something acrid a moment later and craned her neck to see past the agents. Someone ahead screamed. The agents ran toward the commotion. Amber’s group followed, Willow continuing to mutter her spell under her breath.

  A small patch of flames licked up the side of the rhododendron float. All those blue petals Amber had helped to attach to the replica of Lake Myrtle were starting to blacken and curl. As the last words of the spell left Willow’s lips, flames overtook the sea of marbled flowers at the front of the float, too. Several people on the sidewalk stumbled back.

  Amber and Willow shared a quick look and without discussing it, both cast wind spells, sending the air toward the flames, stoking them even more. That did it. The fire leapt even higher, jumping to the middle of the lake.

  A commotion started farther up the parade route, in the direction Kieran had gone, and Amber glanced over just as the top of the willow tree on the garden float went up in a ball of flames. People started running this way and that, shouting about bombs and terrorists. Amber was sure Kieran had set the second fire as he ran past the float, presumably still being chased by John’s fans. She was grateful he’d chosen that one, and not the one populated by cats.

  Amber scanned the crowd, searching for Chief Brown. She could make out his cruiser still parked in front of the orange cones, but the man himself wasn’t visible.

  A horrible creak rent the air. Something was happening to the cat float now. She was just about to run toward it to free any trapped cats, when the frontmost, seed-covered cat moved.

  “Oh my God,” Kim muttered and sidled up next to Amber, the agents to their backs now. “Are you doing that?”

  Which meant Amber hadn’t imagined it. She had her reply on the tip of her tongue when the cat behind it moved too, and Amber nearly choked on the word “no.” Then the third cat shifted, shaking its head like shucking off cobwebs. The wooden base on which the cats sat groaned as the animals, now fluid, got to all fours. The frantic crowd had slowed to watch the giant cats made of flowers and plant parts.

  The black cat who had been at the front of the float—the one with the splash of white across its face, like Amber’s own Alley—leapt onto the sidewalk. The two remaining cats tottered on their wooden perch. The people who had been nearby darted out of the way to avoid getting crushed by the six-foot-tall creature. It possessed the fluidity of movement that Amber’s animated toys had, but it had an unnerving quality of otherness to it, due in large part to its massive size. Its wire-frame body creaked as it moved. Only a feet of sidewalk separated Amber and the cat. It blinked its eyelids covered in black onion seeds, briefly hiding the sunflower petals that made up the yellow of its eyes.

  “Consider this your final warning, Blackwood,” the cat said, revealing its pink rose petal tongue and tapioca pearl-lined incisors. Its voice rumbled out of the cat’s body. Amber could swear she felt the vibration in the soles of her feet. “You have until tonight to give us what we seek. If you do not cooperate, it won’t just be Henrietta’s blood on your hands.”

  Amber’s knees wanted to give out. Had they killed Henrietta because she hadn’t handed over the Henbane book? Did that mean Kieran was wrong and the WBI wasn’t close to finding it? Or was this another attempt to keep Amber distracted?

  The cat then lowered its body toward the ground, its giant tail arched into the air. The two cats still on the float base had taken up a similar stance, each angled in a different direction. It was the same pose the rogue toys had dropped into before they attacked the children and parents at Balinese Park.

  Kieran had said it was a witch from the Betel clan who had orchestrated that, not him. Heart hammering in her chest, she quickly scanned the crowd. Searching, searching—there, just past one of the cats on the float, was Patrice Penhallow. Amber was too far away to know if it was actually her, or Betel wearing her face.

  “Willow,” she hissed, and pulled her sister next to her. “Do you see that black-haired woman?”

  It took Willow a second, but then she gasped. “It’s the face Kieran had been wearing but …” She squinted. “It’s a guy wearing a glamour. It’s not Kieran.”

  “Simon’s tincture really is Penhallow-specific then because I can’t see the glamour,” Amber whispered.

  “And I can because Aunt G’s is strong enough to detect high-level glamours, just not Penhallows?” Willow whispered back.

  “I think so,” Amber said. Then she took a step away from her sister. “We know you’re there, Betel!”

  The cat on the sidewalk cocked its head. “Perhaps you’re more informed than they give you credit for,” the cat said, still crouched. “The network needs to watch you more closely.”

  The cat sprang for her. Twin bursts of magic whizzed past her head. A moment later, the giant cat slammed into an invisible barrier mere inches from Amber and Willow. Clang! They both screamed. Seeds, petals, and other plant parts were knocked loose. The cat’s wire neck didn’t break so much as bend at an awkward angle.

  “Get out of here now!” Agent Howe yelled from behind Amber.

  Amber snapped to attention and turned around long enough to grab the hand of a wide-eyed Jack, while Willow grabbed the hand of an even wider-eyed Kim, and they ran.

  Chapter 25

  Guilt weighed Amber down and slowed her pace as she fled the scene. Edgehill residents and visiting tourists alike screamed behind her. She knew she’d left them in the hands of the capable WBI, who would not only do their best to protect the innocent in the crowd, but shut the attack down as fast as possible.

  If you do not cooperate, it won’t just be Henrietta’s blood on your hands, the cat had said.

  Heart in her throat, Amber let Jack’s hand go so she could fish her phone out of her pocket as she ran. She called Thea Bishop.

  “Hi, Amber,” the woman said. “How are you? I heard you were back in town. I haven’t gotten any word about a prosecuting attorney being assigned the case yet, but I’m building up an opposing one for you should it come to that. Is … do I hear screaming?”

  “Yes …” Amber heaved, semi-relieved that Thea sounded so calm. “How is Henrietta?”

  “Oh, you know, in a magic-induced coma,” Thea said. “I’m here with her now. No changes, but she’s steady.”

  Amber blew out a sigh of relief. It didn’t mean that Henrietta was out of danger, though. “I’m sending an officer to stay with you.”

  Thea’s tone changed instantly, as if she’d been causally slouching, and now sat upright. “Why?”


  “The Penhallows are escalating,” Amber said. “I still believe they targeted Henrietta only to rattle me, but I don’t want to take any chances. Call me the second anything suspicious happens.”

  “Done.”

  The moment Amber disconnected the call, another one came through. Her pace had slowed slightly and she was now at the back of the pack.

  It was Chief Brown. “Hi … chief …”

  Screams rose in the background. “Amber! Where the heck did you go? What in the world is going on?”

  She did her best to explain while she followed the group, Kim leading the way at a steady pace. Assuming the 5K still happened in the morning, Kim was sure to crush it. Willow and Jack kept shooting glances over their shoulders to make sure they weren’t being followed.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him.

  “Carl and I are doing what we can to get people out of here,” he said. “I’ve got all my officers on the way over here except for Garcia, who’s still stationed outside Betty’s shop. Your uhh … friends in suits seem to have the cat situation mostly under control at least. I say mostly because one of the cats took off; a few agents broke off to chase it.”

  Amber was sure this whole experience was going to scar the poor guy for life. “We’re heading back over there right now. We can relieve Garcia when we get there. Is it okay if I send him to sit with Thea and Henrietta instead?”

  “Fine by me,” he said, knowing better by now not to ask question. He cursed as a horrible crash sounded on his side. In a hushed, whispered tone, he said, “An eight-foot-tall cat just flipped a car. A car, Amber. My God.”

  The call ended. Yep, scarred for life.

  Willow drove them back; Amber was too shaky. Hardly anyone said a word, which suited Amber just fine. Jack was in the back seat with her, his leg bouncing in time with her heartbeat.

  Upon arriving at The Quirky Whisker, Amber was relieved that not many people were on the sidewalks here. Even the line for Purrfectly Scrumptious was relatively short, with only a dozen people waiting to go in, rather than the usual twenty-plus. Garcia had his cruiser parked directly outside, and he and Aunt G stood silently on the sidewalk, alternating their attention between foot traffic and Betty and Bobby inside the bakery.

  Willow, Jack, and Kim went inside The Quirky Whisker while Amber ran across the street to let Garcia know he was needed elsewhere. He accepted this without a word and drove off.

  Pulling her aunt aside, Amber gave her a quick rundown of events. “I think we can use both your tincture and Simon’s. Maybe you two can combine recipes, though, and make a super tincture? Either way, we’re going to need more of both.”

  Aunt G nodded. “I’ll go get started on the next batch now.”

  “Amber, you’re back,” Amber heard and smiled as Betty came out the front door of her shop, Savannah at her heels. The Maine coon rubbed herself against Aunt G’s leg, then sat and peered up at the three humans, as if she too were part of the conversation. Betty had walked out wiping her hands on a hand towel, which she now tossed over her shoulder. Her apron was dusted with flour, as usual. “Last I heard from you know who, they were making preparations.”

  Goodness knew what that meant. Were they planning to come here? They had to be in their mid-seventies at the youngest. “How much does Bobby know?”

  “Oh, all of it,” Betty said, wincing slightly. “Couldn’t keep something like that from him.”

  “Are your employees able to take over for a while?” Amber asked. “Kieran knows that you know. He claims to be on our side, but if he lied or if he decides to divulge any of this, they might come after you to get information. If my mom and uncle both had the same, uhh … ability, and I have it as well, it’s likely my grandpa has it, too—and only you know where he is. I don’t think the Penhallows care at this point what path gets them to what they want—they just care about getting there.”

  Betty seemed to mull this over but nodded. “Give us ten minutes and we’ll meet you up there.”

  Aunt G went into The Quirky Whisker to get started on her next tincture batch, while Amber waited out front for Betty. In those ten minutes, Zelda arrived with her daughter and two of their contacts. Amber felt like a bouncer at a nightclub checking IDs, but in this case, Simon’s tincture was checking for Penhallows wearing glamours. Amber directed them upstairs.

  Betty, Bobby, and Savannah arrived next. Savannah led the way, while Betty walked by with three boxes of cupcakes.

  Bobby stopped in front of Amber while his wife went upstairs. “How you doing?” he asked, as he always did.

  “Relieved to know you know my secret, honestly,” Amber said.

  His already dark skin turned a shade darker as he blushed. He ducked his head. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to tell you I knew! But Betty kept telling me how important it was to keep it to ourselves. I hope you aren’t cross with us.”

  “Of course not,” Amber said. “But I am going to apologize now for how weird things are going to get up there.”

  He grinned. “Can’t wait.” He gave her arm a squeeze and then made his way across the shop.

  Fifteen minutes later, Simon, Bianca, and three of their contacts arrived as well. Amber checked their glamours, listened to a tirade from Bianca about the destruction of her parade, and then locked up the shop behind the group, setting the alarm spell shortly after.

  Her studio apartment was bustling with people. All told, there were eleven witches, five non-witches, and three cats. Amber was mildly concerned that the floor would collapse underneath them and send them crashing into the shop below.

  Savannah sauntered around the place, greeting everyone in turn. Tom trotted along behind her, smitten. Alley, however, sat on the kitchen counter and surveyed the scene, managing to be hyper-aware and aloof at the same time, as only a cat could.

  Simon, Willow, Aunt G, and one of Zelda’s contacts were already fast at work in the kitchen, presumably comparing notes on the two glamour-revealing tinctures. Willow was currently doing most of the talking, periodically pointing at Amber as she did. Simon took note while the two women listened intently.

  “Thank you, everyone, for helping with this,” Amber said, a teacher in front of a class again. They all turned to look at her. She went through the details of the Penhallow situation, stating that it was unclear who Raphael Henbane and Kieran Penhallow were currently loyal to. “There’s a ritual that will be performed tomorrow night at the ley line spillover. It’s the fifty-year anniversary of the spell’s creation.”

  “Is it true you cured Kieran’s curse?” Zelda’s daughter suddenly asked.

  The witches in the room were especially interested in this answer. “Yes. He claims that’s why he’s loyal to me now. He hopes I can find a way to cure the others. Presumably, all the Penhallows will be at the ley line spillover tomorrow night. We need to come up with a game plan for how we can get that many witches shoved into the memory in 1971. I’m not strong enough to do it on my own. I was able to ask magic to help me to get two Penhallows transferred there, but just moving two of them almost knocked me out. I can’t move a dozen or more at once. We need incapacitation spells and tinctures of every kind. Every defensive spell you’ve got. Maybe if they’re all incapacitated at the same time, I can move them into the memory in waves. But they’re all going to be on the defensive. We have to be as prepared as possible.”

  “A whole heck of a lotta things could go wrong,” one of Simon’s contacts said. He was an older, gruff-looking guy. He reminded Amber a little of Alan Peterson. Perhaps he was a detective who had worked with Simon’s wife. “Penhallows are strong and unpredictable.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Amber said. “Which is why I want to hear every idea you all can come up with. You all have more experience than I do. I’m open to anything. The only thing I know is that we have to stop the ritual from happening. Who knows what could happen if they succeed in either turning back time or sending someone there.”

  The man see
med satisfied with that. In short order, nearly a dozen grimoires filled Amber’s dining room table. After discussing the possibilities for several minutes, Willow joined the group. “I think you need a layout of the neighborhood to work from.”

  “Good idea.” Amber grabbed her Edgehill map from the drawer in her coffee table and flipped it over, revealing the plain white back. She fetched a pencil for Willow. After clearing part of the table of grimoires, Willow sat at the table, closed her eyes for a moment, and then started to draw. Where her memory was fuzzy, Zelda helped fill in the gaps. Together they mapped out how many houses were on the street, how many were still intact, and a rough scale of the area. Then Willow added an X, marking the area just outside Zelda’s house where most of the ley line activity occurred.

  For the next hour, they worked in smaller groups. Some worked on sleep tinctures and spells that could possibly knock out a large group at once. Others worked on weather spells—everything from hurricane-level winds to flooding—to assess how feasible it was to create an event that would be quick and efficient enough to take out all the Penhallows before they could stop the spell or retaliate. One witch in particular was doing all she could to argue for the use of a blizzard spell she hadn’t had an opportunity to put into action yet.

  The non-witches, save for Betty and Bobby, had assignments, too. Kim and Jack went around the room asking for people’s orders, while Bianca called them in to Catty Melt. Willow then glamoured Kim and Jack to look like a pair of cat-obsessed tourists. Jack was now a fifty-year old man in a “Purranormal Activity” shirt, and Kim was now a middle-aged woman in a tiger onesie. Amber walked them to the shop’s front door.

  “Some people might be bummed out to get the job of gofer while everyone does all the hard work,” Jack said, just before stepping out onto the sidewalk, “but I feel like I’m in the war room of a post-apocalyptic movie just before the alien spaceship lands.”

  “Oh my God,” Kim said, holding onto her long, striped tail. “I was thinking the same thing!”