by Amy Boyles
"See? I told you we weren't any good at this," Reid said.
Em swallowed. "I want y'all to focus on lowerin' the book."
"But the book hasn't moved," Sera said.
Em blinked at her as if Sera were an idiot. "Wasn't that your target?"
"Yes," she said.
Em gave a curt nod. "Then lower that book."
I knew what she meant. If we focused on lowering the entire room, that might not work. But if we singled out the book, that should (hopefully) do the trick. We closed our eyes again and a minute later…
"Good grief, y'all," Em said. She slumped onto the couch. For her, it was slumping, anyway. I don't think Queen Witches go about slumping and slumming like the rest of us. But she appeared withered, uncertain, and a bit deflated.
"How'd we do that?" Sera whispered.
"I don't know," I said. "How did we do that, Em?"
Em massaged her forehead. "Y'all focused, right?"
We nodded.
"It don't make sense," she said more to herself than us. "You made everything else levitate except what you were supposed to. Never, not once in my life have I seen that happen," she mumbled. "You have the ability but not the buildin' blocks."
"What?" I said.
She shook her head. "You have ability but no focus."
I gestured to the three of us. "We focused. All of us."
Em stared at the floor. "I don't know. I can't explain it." She glanced up, catching my gaze. "But if the two of you can levitate an entire room, what else are you capable of?"
***
I can't say I didn't go home confused and disappointed. Determined to get this spelling thing down pat, I said to my sisters as we walked in the door, "As soon as Nan and Grandma are asleep, we're going to practice."
"Okay, but if the house lifts off its foundation, I'm blaming you," Sera said.
I stuck my tongue out at her. Yes, I'm aware that it's childish, but I don't care. Several hours later we sat in a circle in the living room.
Sera narrowed her eyes at Reid. "Why are you wearing all black?"
My youngest sister wore a long-sleeved black tee and black sweatpants. "These are my comfy clothes. Besides, it's chilly in here with the air on."
"Oh. I thought you were trying to be all witchy," Sera said.
I arched an eyebrow. "Witchy?"
"You know what I mean."
"I'm not sure I do," I said. "Explain it to me."
Sera huffed. "You know, all pointy hats and stuff. Like a caricature of a witch."
"Right. Because we know so many witches," I said.
"Don't me smart," she growled.
I shrugged. "I'm not. But with this stuff we don't know our armpits from our buttholes. Even if Reid was trying to invoke some sort of witchy thing, I doubt it would hurt."
"Whatever," she said.
"Girlets or chicklets or chicklin's," Reid said, honeying up her Southern accent. "If you're done bickering, I'd like to start."
I giggled. "Best Queen Witch impersonation. Ever."
Reid performed a half bow. "Thank you. I've worked on it all day."
"All day?" Sera said.
"In my head, of course."
I placed a tissue in the center of our circle. "I think we may have gone wrong today because the book was too heavy."
"Right, and a couch is light," Sera said.
I clicked my tongue. "In one of our minds it might have been. So we're going to try this. Let's close our eyes and concentrate."
As we focused, a wave of energy spilled over my body. It encircled me, flooding every cell. It was electric and alive. Though it resembled feeling as if I'd sat on a live wire, I knew better. This was magic, pure and simple. It swirled and danced, lifting my hair and energizing me. My skin tingled, my heart raced and my stomach flitted. I cracked one eye, wanting to see how high the tissue was.
But it sat in a limp heap on the floor. It hadn't even twitched.
Nan yelled from her bedroom. "What the heck is going on?"
Sera and Reid's eyes opened.
"Oh no," I whispered.
"Oh sweet Lord," Sera said.
We dashed to Nan's room. I burst through the door, deciding that when someone yelled like she had, barging in seemed like the best thing to do.
Nan floated above her bed, her arms and legs tangled in the sheets. She thrashed about. Fear shone in her eyes.
"It's okay, Nan," I said. "We'll get you down."
"You'd better," she hissed. "I don't appreciate you girls levitating me."
What?
I climbed on the bed and took her hand. I pulled, expecting her to drift back down. She didn't budge.
I turned to Sera. "She won't move." My heart raged against my chest. I didn't want Nan to be stuck in the air for the rest of her God-given life.
"We need to lower the tissue," Sera said, her voice calm. Thank goodness someone was, because I was about to transform into a crazy hyperventilating lady.
"Okay," I said. We linked hands and focused. I watched Nan while I thought about a tissue dropping to the floor very, very slowly. After a couple of moments her body floated back down, coming to rest in the gentle embrace of the bed.
"You feel okay, Nan?" I asked.
She threw us a sour look. "What in the dickens made you girls decide to float me? You could've broken one of my fragile bones."
"Sorry," Sera said.
"It was Dylan's idea," Reid added.
"Thanks," I said. "Nan, why don't you seem surprised by this?"
She slid her feet into her Tweety Bird slippers and frowned. "Of course I'm not surprised. I know you're witches. I've always known. Why do you think the council sent me to protect your grandmother?"
My jaw dropped. "Well, I don't know. Why did they?"
She rose, stretching her arms over her head. "Anyone want some coffee?"
"Sure," Reid said. "I'll take a cup."
I scowled. "You don't drink coffee."
She gave me a bright smile. "Sometimes I do."
"I suppose this is one of those times."
"You got it."
Sera raised her hand. "Count me in. If I have to listen to them bicker all night, I'd rather have a warm cup of joe to go with it."
"What?" I said. "The only hot drink Reid likes is cocoa."
Sera flipped her hair back. "Not anymore."
"Right," Reid said snidely. "My tastes are allowed to grow up."
I rolled my eyes. "Great. Let's have some coffee and stay up all night chatting."
When the four of us were seated at the kitchen table, Nan started talking. "The council found out about your grandmother because they'd been keeping tabs on her."
"Yeah," I said. "That's what Em told us. That they'd been watching her for years."
"They found out about her condition quickly and sent me in." Nan sipped from her steaming cup. "I'm sorry about that poor Eckhart girl. It's not the first time a human got caught in the crosshairs of a witch's desire, and it won't be the last. Though I have to say some good has come from it. You girls are discovering your talents, and I hear that Queen Witch has been teaching you."
"Word travels fast," I said.
Nan ran her finger over the rim of the cup. "I would have said something, but how was I supposed to bring it up? ‘Good morning, girls. I understand you've discovered that you're witches. About time.’"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Reid asked.
Nan sighed. "Your grandmother should have told you long ago." She touched her chest with the flat of her hand. "Now, I'm not a witch. Not at all. I come from a long line of witch protectors."
"Witch protectors?" Sera said.
"That's correct. I know about your kind but don't discuss it with nonwitches. And in case you haven't learned the rules—that's one of them." She wagged a finger at us. "No talking about witchcraft with anyone not in the know. Got it?"
We nodded.
"So as I said, when the council discovered your grandmother could no l
onger protect herself, they sent me in and of course I informed them that you had no knowledge of your heritage."
I sat back. "Why didn't she tell us?"
Nan shrugged. "There's no way to know. Not unless she snaps out of her state. Which she could."
I saw Sera eye Nan up and down. "So—and I'm not trying to be rude, but—Nan, how are you supposed to protect our grandmother?"
Nan howled with laughter. I understood Sera's question. At nearly sixty and round as a barrel, Nan didn't look like she could protect much of anything. Unless her skills consisted of sitting on a person while they struggled beneath her, that is. Which I wouldn't put past her.
She pushed herself up from the table. "Let me show you." Nan grabbed a broom from the corner and proceeded to do some sort of tae kwon do stuff with the rod. She twirled it over her head and danced a series of moves that had her thrusting, sideswiping, and kicking. Yes, kicking. Sixty-year-old lady with gray hair didn't play.
When the demonstration finished, we all clapped. "Wow," I said. "I'm impressed."
I noticed a small piece of lint floating to the floor behind Nan. I picked it up and inspected it. A tiny golden thread lay in my palm. That was strange. Nan wasn't wearing anything that color, and the bedsheets we'd found her practically cocooned in weren't that hue, either. I shrugged it off and let the thread fall out of my hand.
"That was so cool," Reid said. "Maybe you can teach me some moves."
Nan returned the broom to its spot. "Anytime. Since you don't have any magic, it's not a bad idea for you to learn some self-protection."
Reid crossed her arms. "Great. Even the person without any magic knows I'm magicless."
"I don't think that's a word," Sera said.
Reid threw her a confused look.
"Magicless," Sera explained. "That's not a word."
"What are you, the word fairy?"
Sera shook her head. "No. I'm just pointing it out for future reference. Not a word."
"Thanks, Sherlock," Reid said. "I'll keep that in mind."
"C'mon, kids," I said. "Time to get some sleep. I have a feeling Em's got a lot planned for us tomorrow."
***
The next morning, Nan made us a breakfast big enough to sate the hungriest of lumberjacks. Eggs, pancakes, sausage, hash browns, grits and, to top it off, homemade biscuits and gravy. Awesome. Of course, since the three of us always watched our waistlines, we barely touched it. I nibbled a sausage while Sera and Reid took a couple bites of the pancakes.
I watched as Nan heaped a plateful of goodies and headed for the front door.
"Where are you going with that?" I asked.
She stopped, turned around. "Why, I'm going to feed that nice man out there who's protecting you."
She meant the assassin. "What?" I squawked. "How do you know about him?"
"Dylan, I'm trained in this sort of thing. I know when a house is being staked out. The hairs on the back of my neck tingle."
"That's impressive," Reid said.
I did not want the assassin to have any food. The man didn't even bother introducing himself. He could round up his own pancakes and sausage. "Don't give him breakfast," I said.
Nan fisted a hand on her hip and glared at me. "I most certainly will. He's stayed up all night watching this home to make sure you're safe. He deserves a nice breakfast."
I crossed to her. "Fine. I'll take it to him."
"Ooo, Dylan's got a crush on someone," Reid said.
"I do not," I snapped. "I just want him to know where his breakfast came from." Besides, I wanted to see if he was awake. I had my doubts. He didn't look too trustworthy.
I scooped the stacked plate in my palm and headed out. Warm sunshine assaulted me. We'd stayed up so late the rays blinded me like they tend to do when I'm good and hungover. Not that that's a regular occurrence. I'm only using it as an example.
I approached the dark tinted windows. Roman or Italian or whatever his name was, stared at me. I reached the car and waited. He continued to stare at me. I motioned for him to roll down the glass.
"What's this?" he asked, a slight smile tugging at his lip.
"Thanksgiving dinner. What's it look like?"
"It looks like you're eating crow."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
He smirked. "I didn't think you wanted anything to do with me."
"I don't."
"You're having something to do with me now. You're standing here."
I shoved the plate toward the door. "Do you want it or not?"
He glared at me before finally taking it. "You forgot the silverware."
I pulled a fork and knife from my back pocket. Nan had handed them to me before I exited the house. If it had been up to me, Roman would've eaten the meal with his hands. But no, Nan demanded civility, and of course I complied. After all, she was my grandmother's sworn protector.
"This looks delicious," he said.
"It is," I admitted. "Nan's a great cook."
His face fell. "Oh."
"What now?"
"Nothing," he said glumly.
"What is it? I'm not walking away until you tell me what it is."
He stabbed a sausage and shoved it in his mouth, all manly and stuff. I looked away. Golly. How could this guy make eating look sexy? I mean, seriously. Was that legal? Something poked out from under the collar of his T-shirt. I peered closer.
"You first," he said.
"What?" I asked, confused.
"You tell me what's got your interest, and I'll tell you what I was thinking."
Easy enough. No need to sell my soul over this. "Is that a tattoo?"
He nodded. "I have one on the left side of my shoulder that goes down to my waist."
My knees jellied. I gulped. It was now fact. King Sexy guarded me. Wait until I told Sera. If she wasn't nursing a broken heart, she might think it droolworthy.
"What's it of?" I asked.
He spoke between mouthfuls. "A dragon."
My knees wobbled. A dragon tattoo branded the plane of Mr. Muscle's skin from bicep to waist? I know it's not cool to swoon, but I might not have a choice.
"Now you," I said.
"I'm disappointed that you didn't make my breakfast."
I burst out laughing. "First of all, I'm not a great cook. If I'd made your breakfast, it would have been jammy toast and coffee. Second, your well-being is not my first priority."
"Wow. Harsh," he said.
I almost felt bad. Almost. But then I remembered he had no manners. Folks with manners bother to tell you they've been hired to guard you. Folks without, didn't.
"Enjoy your breakfast," I said. I stalked back to the house. Rick, our next-door neighbor, was walking to his car. I waved. He winked and smiled. Dang. That boy was hot. Maybe I needed to steal the binoculars from Reid.
Nah. He was too young for me. Which made Roman just right.
Darn it. I did not have time to fall for some guy. I had a witch trying to kill me. Speaking of, Em was probably waiting for us down at the shop. Queen Witch did not like waiting. Of course, how much wrath could we incur in five measly minutes?
CHAPTER EIGHT
When we arrived at Perfect Fit that morning, Em kept her distance. Her eyes slewed from me to Sera as if she were nervous. As if we scared her a little bit. I didn't know what there was to be nervous about. We only levitated the store—and Nan. It's not like we raised the entire town into the sky.
Hmmm. Interesting thought. I wondered if we could do that.
But there was no time to ponder.
"This mornin', chicklets, we're goin' on a hunt."
"For what?" Reid asked.
"Why, for the person who attempted to kill you," Em said.
"Um, isn't that the job of the police?"
Em shook her head, her fiery curls bouncing. Hard to believe she was ninety-eight and a half. She folded her arms, her hands curling over her biceps. "And what do you think the police are gonna find?" she said.
> "I don't know. You can ask him yourself because here he comes," I said. Sure enough, Detective Blount strutted up the walk. He opened the door of the shop.
"Good morning, ladies," he said.
We murmured good mornings. He nodded to me. "Do you have a minute?"
"Sure thing." I escorted him to the back office. We entered, and I motioned to the empty coffeepot. "Would you like a cup?"
He hiked up the thighs of his slacks and took a seat. "No thanks. I only have a few questions."
"Go right ahead." I sat behind a small desk I used for storage and miscellaneous tasks. It had belonged to my family for years. Cup-ring stains and nicks marred the surface, but I loved it. It wasn't nice enough to be showcased on the floor, like my other desk was, but it was fine nestled in the back.
"Miss Apel, you said that was your dress, the one Reagan was wearing."
"Right."
A dark expression flashed across his face. An instant later it vanished. "This may sound like a strange question, but do you know anyone who might want to cause you harm? Get even with you for something?"
I planted my elbows on the desk and leaned forward. "No, Detective, I don't. Why do you ask?" Let's see if Miss Prissy Pants aka Queen Witch, was right.
"We're still trying to figure out the substance on the dress, but it appears the fabric was tampered with. It's science fiction, really. Someone coated the inside of the dress with a substance meant to kill on contact. And since the dress is yours, it only stands to reason that someone wanted to harm you."
I leaned back in my chair and exhaled deeply. "I've lived here my entire life. I don't know anyone who would want me dead."
The detective scrubbed a palm over his face. I could tell he didn't like this case, not one bit. He gave me a tired, weary smile.
"If you think of anything, Miss Apel, let me know. Here's my card."
After shoving the small rectangular paper in my pocket, I escorted him out. I turned to my sisters and pointed at Queen Witch. "She's right. The police won't be able to help us on this. We'll have to figure it out for ourselves."
Reid blanched. Sera shrugged.
I glanced at Em. "Okay, we've got a witch to track down. What do we do first?"
