Wickedly Unraveled

by Deborah Blake

  Bella sighed and helped herself to a beer from the fridge. Jazz held her hand out but Bella just shook her head and gave Jazz a bottle of ginger ale instead, getting a classic teen eye roll in return.

  “You know how it is,” Bella said. “Any time Beka wants to come see either of us, Brenna finds some kind of last minute chore that Beka just has to finish first. Passive-aggressive old bag.”

  “Yeah, well that old bag is part of what I wanted to talk to the two of you about,” Barbara started to say, when the closet door was flung open and a gorgeous long-legged blonde rushed through.

  “Sorry, sorry,” she said, gasping as if she’d run the whole way. From the look of her tousled long hair and bright pink cheeks, she probably had. Her multicolored patchwork skirt had a couple of greenish-blue leaves stuck to it, no doubt picked up in the Otherworld, and her light blue tank top bore an odd stain near the hem that was still smoking lightly. “Brenna had a potion that needed to be stirred without stopping for ten minutes, and she didn’t have time to do it.”

  “Uh huh,” Bella said with a glower. “What a surprise. Really, Beka. You are a grown woman who spent a couple years being Baba Yaga on your own. I don’t know why you let that frizzy-haired tyrant boss you around as if you were Jazz’s age.”

  “Maybe because I failed so miserably as a Baba Yaga,” Beka muttered, looking at the floor. A tiny embroidered newt in the rug wiggled its tail and gazed back.” “Brenna was right about me not being ready, and she was nice enough to come out of retirement and keep training me, so it really isn’t too much for her to ask me to do a little task now and then.”

  “ARGH,” Bella said, and tiny flames sputtered out of her fingertips. “Oops. Sorry. It just makes me so mad, the way that woman takes advantage of you.”

  Barbara blinked and snapped her fingers, extinguishing the sparks before they could do any damage. She’d forgotten how much difficulty her sister Baba had had containing her fiery nature when she got angry. In the other timeline, Bella had gotten a much better handle on her emotions after settling down with her ex-Hotshots firefighter husband Sam.

  But in this case, Barbara felt a little bit like shooting fire out of her own fingers. “You were not a failure,” she said to Beka in her “don’t you dare argue with me” voice. “You were sabotaged, and some things that should have happened didn’t, but you were a great Baba Yaga. And as for Brenna doing you a favor, I assure you, it is quite the opposite.”

  Beka was both thinner and paler than the version Barbara was used to. She had lost the deep tan that came from spending most of her time either surfing or out on her husband Marcus’s fishing boat. She sighed and shook her head.

  “You don’t understand,” she said.

  “No you don’t understand. Neither of you do.” Barbara gestured them over to sit in the small living room area. “But it is time you did. Sit down, please. This might take a while.”

  “And that’s why I need your help finding Maya, this rusalka.” Barbara said, finishing up her story. Her audience stared back at her with varying expressions: disbelief (Beka), doubt (Bella), and stunned excitement (Jazz). Babs and Chudo-Yudo were curled up together on the edges of the circle, having remained mostly silent throughout Barbara’s recitation of the explosion, the changed timeline, the Queen’s reaction, and her tentative plans to try and fix it all.

  “That’s just crazy,” Beka said. “I thought the part of the story you’d already told me sounded bizarre, but the whole thing…that’s even harder to believe. I saved the Selkies and the Merpeople? Married a hunky former Marine who knows I’m a Baba Yaga and doesn’t mind? You have to realize how insane that all sounds.”

  Bella looked thoughtful, twirling a piece of her long curly hair around the tip of one paint-stained finger. “Oh, I don’t know. The part about Brenna is pretty believable, if you ask me. I’m not so sure about me getting married either, though. It doesn’t seem likely.” She gazed at Barbara and bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “As for you falling in love with a Human sheriff…I think that’s the most far-fetched part of the whole thing.”

  Wordlessly, Barbara held out her ring. The other two took turns holding it and staring at her.

  “Hmmm,” Bella said in a quiet voice. “There’s definitely something there. And you say the Queen believed you?”

  “Enough to make fixing the unraveled timeline an official assignment,” Barbara said. “Although I couldn’t convince her about Brenna’s actions in my reality, or that she was still actively working against Beka in this one.”

  “I don’t have any problem with that part,” Bella said with a grimace. “I never liked that woman, and ever since she came back, it’s as though she’s determined to make Beka feel smaller and smaller.” She turned to look at the blonde sitting next to her. “I can’t even remember the last time I saw you smile.”

  “I smile,” Beka protested. “I’m fine. Just a little discouraged about my own lack of progress, that’s all. And I can’t imagine Brenna doing everything you said she did. Torturing the Riders. That’s ridiculous. How on earth would one old woman—even one with magic—overpower Mikhail and Gregori, not to mention a giant like Alexei?”

  “Trickery, guile, and threats,” Barbara said, but she could tell she wasn’t going to change Beka’s mind. “Look, all I ask is that you be on your guard, okay? And in the meanwhile, can you help me to track down the rusalka who calls herself Maya Freeman?”

  Jazz sat up straight and hand out one hand in demand. “Finally, something I can do. And by the way, I know that nobody is asking me, but I believe Barbara.”

  She gave Beka a hard look, memories of the hellish years spent growing up in the foster system suddenly wiping away any vestiges of teenage innocence in her deep brown eyes.

  “I know you think the best of everyone. Hell, that’s one of the things I like about you, Beka. But I can tell you from experience that there are plenty of people who will do anything to get what they want. Anything. Brenna’s sweet aging hippie act might fool you, but it never fooled me. That woman is cold, through and through.”

  Beka opened her mouth, then shut it again, shaking her head stubbornly.

  Jazz just rolled her eyes and opened up the laptop. She tapped some keys, hummed, and tapped some more.

  “Huh,” she said finally. “That’s interesting.”

  Bella sat up straighter. “You found something to prove Barbara’s story?”

  “Yes and no,” Jazz said. “I found nothing at all, which is way more suspicious than finding something.”

  “I, uh, excuse me?” Barbara said. She liked Jazz, but sometimes she felt as though the girl was talking a foreign language. And not a nice, easy to understand one like Russian.

  “Okay, assuming we believe the basics of your story, and I for one definitely do, this Maya should show up somewhere online. Even if she doesn’t have a social security number,” Jazz grinned, “and I’m assuming that rusalkas don’t, there should be some trace of her. For instance, in some local newspaper article about this Peter Callahan and his company. Somewhere in the company records. Or a photo of her with him at some public event.”

  “But you didn’t find any of those?” Beka said, leaning forward. “Not even one mention?”

  “Not one,” Jazz said. She turned to Barbara. “You said you’ve talked to people in this timeline who remember her, right?”

  “Of course,” Barbara said, trying not to sound defensive. “Both Liam and Belinda, the deputy whose little girl went missing. They knew exactly who I was talking about when I asked about Peter Callahan’s assistant.”

  Jazz held up one hand. “Jeez, don’t jump down my throat. I’m not doubting you. Just double checking that you’re sure she was out in the open in our timeline too. Because if she was, she’s done a damned good job of either staying out of the public view or covering her tracks, or both.”

  “What are you saying?” Bella asked. She’d lived with Jazz for long enough to know not to underestimate her intel
ligence, not to mention her ability to think outside the box. Not having been raised to be a Baba Yaga might handicap her in some ways, but it also meant that she often looked at things completely differently than more traditional Baba Yagas did. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially in a situation like this.

  “I’m saying that if she had gone back to the Otherworld, she would have had no reason to make sure people didn’t realize she’d been here. And if she was stuck here and decided to make the best of it by trying to blend in with Humans, she would probably have tried to appear as normal as possible. The only reason I can think of for her wanting to keep her presence quiet is if she is still here and still bent on causing some kind of trouble.”

  Jazz gestured at the laptop triumphantly. “Thus the complete lack of any reference to anyone named Maya Freeman who matches her description is very suspicious, and in fact supports Barbara’s story.” The ta da was left unsaid, but rang in the air nonetheless.

  “Well, that’s encouraging,” Barbara said, feeling the complete opposite. “But how do we find her if she has gone to all that effort to stay under the radar? She’s too clever to have left anything around this area that would allow me to trace her magically.”

  Bella nodded. “Yeah, you’d better believe that if she has gone to the trouble to hide her tracks, she will have wiped out any literal tracks she made here.”

  “Do you think she will still be with Peter Callahan?” Jazz asked. “Because with a little digging, I can probably find out where his company is active now, and figure out which one of their sites they sent him to.”

  Beka had perked up a little, once they’d stopped talking about her. Or Brenna. “You said she might still be pursuing vengeance on the Humans who are destroying the waters, right?”

  “Sadly, that doesn’t narrow things down much,” Bella said glumly. It was part of a Baba Yaga’s job to help maintain the balance of the elements, but lately, that had become nearly impossible, with all the damage that Humans were doing to the environment.

  “It does, actually,” Barbara said. She thought for a moment. “After all, Maya attached herself to Peter Callahan because of his connection to a company that made their money by fracking, also known as hydraulic fracturing, which is seriously detrimental to water. Not only can it contaminate the water table for miles around—an ecological disaster that can never be reversed—there have also been incidences of spills of the highly toxic chemicals used in the process.”

  Bella snapped her fingers. “I get it! You think that wherever she is, whether or not she is still with this Peter guy, she’ll still be trying to attack those who are threatening water in a big way. Not just some guy who dumps the sewage from his summer camp into a lake because he’s too lazy or cheap to have it dealt with properly, but some company or organization that is causing widespread or intense damage.”

  “I’d like to sic her on some of the people who dump garbage into the ocean,” Beka said, her eyes narrowed. “Did you realize that there are garbage patches—floating islands made up predominantly of pieces of plastic—that are hundreds of miles across?”

  “In the ocean?” Babs asked from where she was leaning against Chudo-Yudo as if he were a large cushion. “This is a very bad idea.”

  “No kidding,” Chudo-Yudo muttered. “Humans are full of bad ideas.”

  “Now, now,” Beka said. “Most Humans are really very nice. They just don’t always see the big picture.”

  “I could draw them one,” Babs said seriously. “If you think that would help.”

  “Probably not, sweetie,” Barbara said. “But it is kind of you to offer.”

  Jazz rolled her eyes. “Can we get back to the subject at hand, please? My homework isn’t going to do itself.” She glanced at Bella. “Unless I could do a spell for—”

  “Forget it,” Bella said. She shook a lightly sparking finger at her foster daughter.

  “Fine. Whatever.” Jazz shrugged. “In that case, I can do an online search for any mention of suspicious catastrophes involving water. Especially anything that smells like it might have supernatural causes.” She got a faraway look in her eyes. “I’ll bet if I cross-search for water, disaster, and mysterious or unexplained…”

  “That would be great,” Barbara said. “And maybe Bella and Beka, you could just keep your eyes open in your travels for anything that seems like it might be connected.”

  “Happy to,” Bella said. “Although where we are in the northern central states, it is less populated and we’re not likely to be as good a target as either the west coast or the east coast.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Beka said. “But I probably wouldn’t be much help. Brenna says I couldn’t find a shell on the seashore most days.”

  Barbara and Chudo-Yudo made almost identical growling noises.

  “That witch is a bitch,” Jazz observed in a casual tone. Barbara noticed that Bella didn’t bother to scold her for rudeness.

  She might have added something even ruder, but there was a knock at the Airstream door. Chudo-Yudo picked his head up, but didn’t look at all alarmed.

  “Someone coming for an herbal remedy?” Bella asked.

  “No idea,” Barbara said, walking over to open the door. She felt her heart skip a beat. “Oh, hi, Liam. I thought you were over at the house.”

  “I was,” he said, sweeping his too-long hair out of his eyes. “But I’ve finished fixing the sink in the kitchen, and I’ve repainted all the cabinets, so I was looking at that wonky burner on the stove. I have to tell you, I think you’re a lot better off just buying a new stove, if you can afford it. Turns out the oven doesn’t work either.” He made a face. “Not to mention that olive green color is just butt ugly. I think the seventies have a lot to answer for.”

  Beka tittered and he peered around Barbara’s shoulder. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was interrupting something.” His brow wrinkled. “I didn’t see any cars outside, or I would have realized you had company.”

  “Oh, we walked,” Bella said casually, getting up to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Barbara’s sister Bella. This is Beka,” she gestured at the blonde, “our other sister, and my foster daughter Jazz. I think you already know Babs and the giant white monstrosity she is leaning against.”

  Barbara glared at Bella, since she hadn’t been intending to introduce them all. Of course, Bella knew that, and ignored her. As usual. What was the point of being the oldest and most powerful if no one paid attention to you?

  “And you are?” Bella asked.

  “I’m Liam McClellan. I’m doing some work on the house for Barbara. I mean, Professor Yager,” he said. He looked from one to the other. “You don’t look like sisters.”

  Barbara scowled. “It’s complicated. We’re not actually related by blood. Although there might be some blood involved before we’re done here.” She muttered that last sentence in Bella’s direction.

  Then she turned back and gave him a crooked smile. “I agree, though. A new stove is definitely a good idea. That color really is ghastly. In fact, you should probably get all new appliances. I think that refrigerator is older than I am.”

  “And that’s really old,” Bella said helpfully.

  “Bite me,” Barbara said without bothering to turn around.

  Liam chuckled. “Now I believe you’re sisters.” He pulled out his ever-present notebook and jotted down a couple of things. “Do you want me to start a line of credit for you at the local hardware store? They sell appliances there too, out back. They usually want to have a credit card on file, though.”

  Barbara shook her head. “There’s no need for that,” she said. “Hang on a minute. Now where did I put…” She started rooting around in the cupboards and pulling out drawers. “Chudo-Yudo, do you have any idea where I put that stash of money?”

  The dragon-dog lifted his head. “Did you try looking in the cookie jar?”

  “There are cookies in there,” Babs said. “I ate one for breakfast. This is how I know.
”

  “What about the cabinet with the tools?” Chudo-Yudo suggested. “I think I remember you making some comment about how money was just a tool, and your mind does work in strange ways.”

  Liam looked a little baffled by the conversation, no doubt because he would only hear Chudo-Yudo’s part of it as barking.

  Barbara pulled out a drawer and placed a screwdriver on the counter, followed by a heavy red pipe wrench (that was actually too large to fit in that drawer, which she hoped Liam didn’t notice), and a large roll of hundred dollar bills. “Brilliant! Here it is.” There were times when money came in handy, so she always tried to have some around.

  “This should probably cover anything you need right away,” she said, handing it to Liam. “Let me know when it runs out.”

  Liam’s mouth gaped open. “Do you always carry this much cash around with you?” He gave her the kind of look he’d used quite a bit when they’d first met in the other timeline. She called it his professional sheriff’s “I’m pretty sure you’ve done something illegal, I just haven’t figured out what yet” look. “It’s not safe.”

  He removed the black leather thong holding it all together and checked to see that it was all large bills. “There must be ten thousand dollars here! What do you do, rob a banks on the side?”

  “Not at all,” she said in a bland tone. “I just don’t believe in credit cards. Little pieces of plastic never seem like real money to me.”

  “Uh, huh.” It was clear he still thought there was something funky going on, but couldn’t think of any way of refusing to take the roll. “They must pay professors better than I thought. Do you want me to give you a receipt for this?”

  “No, that’s not necessary. I trust you.” She gave him the full-on smile again, the one she hardly ever used, and he almost fell down the stairs on his way out.

  “So that’s your Liam,” Bella said, looking intrigued. “He’s damned cute. Kind of suspicious, but cute.”

  “That’s the sheriff in him,” Barbara said. “I think it is still his default setting, even though he lost his job.”