“He is singing.”
“It sounds as if he’s living on a prayer.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing, taking two quick breaths in through my nose to calm myself. “He’s resting his shoulder.”
“Because he was almost taken out by a stick?”
“Tree branch,” I corrected, snapping my fingers to get her attention. “Stop staring at the door. You’re not going to see anything.”
Aunt Tillie was scandalized. “I don’t want to see anything. I’m no pervert.”
“You’re just an old lady playing a video game with a bunch of teenagers.”
“Twentysomethings … and who are you calling old?” Aunt Tillie narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. “I’m in my prime.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I took a moment to look her over. She was dressed in all black – including a knit cap poking out of the pocket of the coat she’d hung over a nearby chair – and she had her “I’m about to cause mischief” face on full display. “What are you up to?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re up to something,” I prodded. “How did you even get in here? I locked every door and window.”
“Yes, but I’m magically inclined.” Aunt Tillie’s smile was serene as she wiggled her fingers. “I can bypass any lock unless it’s magically warded, and even then I have my ways.”
“Magically warded, huh?” That hadn’t even occurred to me. “I can do that.”
“You can,” Aunt Tillie agreed. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You held off that guy last night and you didn’t need help to do it. You can easily handle the locks.”
“Maybe I will.”
“Great.” Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. “Are we done talking about you or do I have to listen to more nonsense? I have an appointment to keep and only so much time.”
I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “What appointment?” I glanced to the clock on the wall. “It’s almost eight. You’re usually in bed at eight.”
“I am not.” Aunt Tillie barked. “Only old people are in bed by eight.”
“And?”
“Don’t push me.” Aunt Tillie extended a warning finger before handing over a small book. It looked to be bound in leather, and handwritten.
“What’s this?” I flipped it open and narrowed my eyes. “It looks old.”
“It is. It’s from the family library. It’s the only thing I found that might be able to help us.”
“Help us what?”
“Figure out what’s going on with the ghosts.”
I flipped a few pages and stared hard at the script on the page. “How old is this?”
“Old. I think it was written by my grandmother.”
“What is this word?” I moved the notebook closer to the light and frowned. “Shades.” I let the word sink in. “You think we’re dealing with shades.”
“What’s a shade?” Landon asked, striding out of the bathroom, a towel tied at his waist. “What are you doing here, Aunt Tillie?”
Aunt Tillie looked him up and down as she stood, her lips twitching. “Where is your hair?”
Landon was taken aback. “On my head.”
“I know, but … .” Aunt Tillie reached out a gnarled finger and touched his bare chest. “You’re smooth … like a baby’s butt.”
Landon made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat as he sat next to me and looked at the journal. “What is that?”
“Aunt Tillie says it’s help.”
“Help for what?”
“The ghosts.”
Landon slowly skimmed his eyes back to my great-aunt. “And you just brought this to us out of the goodness of your heart?”
Aunt Tillie bobbed her head. “I’m a giver.”
“You’re also dressed in all black,” Landon pointed out. “I don’t believe for a second you’re here because you want to help us.”
“That shows what a doofus you really are.” Aunt Tillie turned haughty. “I do want to help you … even though you’re a hairless monkey.” She flicked her eyes to me. “How can you sleep with him when you know he has no hair? It’s so … weird.”
“You’ve seen him without his shirt on before.”
“Apparently I didn’t pay attention.”
“Well, he’s not hairless,” I explained. “He shaves.”
“His chest?” Aunt Tillie was flummoxed. “That’s so weird. Why would he do that?”
“Stop poking Landon and focus on me,” I instructed. “What are you about to do?”
“Nothing.” Aunt Tillie refused to make eye contact. “I’m simply out for a walk. I’m healthy like a bull. I don’t even know why I’m explaining things to you. I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“You definitely don’t,” I agreed, watching as she hauled on her coat and scarf and headed for the front door. “Read up. I think we might be able to get through to those girls if they are shades. We just have to approach them in a different manner.”
“I’ll definitely read up.”
Landon held open the door until Aunt Tillie disappeared through it and then locked it behind her before sliding the safety chain into place. He moved to the window and stared outside, shaking his head before turning back to me. “She had her combat helmet waiting on the porch.”
“The front porch?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s weird. She came in through the back.”
“Everything she does is weird.” Landon shuffled to the couch and held out his hand. “Come on. We’ll read that together in bed.”
“Are you sure?” I cocked a dubious eyebrow. “I thought you might want to play hairless monkey games.”
Landon scowled. “Oh, geez. I’ll never live this down, will I?”
“You will. I suggest a compromise, though. We’ll read the book together and then see if we can play that monkeys jumping on the bed game.”
Landon chuckled. “Sounds fun.”
“First, I want to see if I can ward the doors.”
Landon’s face remained calm, but I didn’t miss the way his shoulders tensed. “Can you do that?”
“I can try.”
“Then try. If it’s an added layer of protection for you, I’m all for it.”
“An added layer of protection for us,” I corrected.
“Hey, I’m a hairless monkey. I don’t need protection from anything other than jungle creatures.”
“Good point.”
LANDON FELL ASLEEP long before me. He needed his rest.
It turned out to be a good decision because he woke bright-eyed and frisky, turning our morning quiet time into nonstop giggles and screeches for a bit before cleaning up and pointing ourselves toward The Overlook.
It was such a nice morning we decided to walk, which was the only reason we noticed the footprints surrounding the house – in places they definitely didn’t belong – when we exited through the rear door.
“What the hell is this?” Landon strode forward and knelt by the prints. “Did Aunt Tillie leave these?”
That didn’t sound right. I moved closer and placed my boot close to the footprint before shaking my head. “Aunt Tillie wears shoes two sizes smaller than me. Whoever left these prints has at least two sizes on me.”
“Yeah.” Landon placed his own boot close to the clearest print and gauged the difference in sizes. “I’d say I’m about one size bigger.”
Landon turned back to the guesthouse and studied the area near the door. “We didn’t get snow last night, but the wind caused what we already had to drift some. Whoever it was came from that direction.” He pointed toward the dense woods to the east. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t understand why anyone would plant himself in the woods when it’s cold like it is,” I said, hunkering down to look closer at the print. “In fact … .” I trailed off when I noticed another indentation about ten feet away. “Look at this.” I half crawled over to the spot for a better look. “Does this look
like a handprint?”
“A glove print, at least,” Landon confirmed, tilting his head to the side. “Why would someone sit on the ground out here? It was, like, twenty degrees last night.”
I shrugged, unsure. “Maybe … .” I trailed off as I considered a possibility that would’ve seemed ridiculous a few days ago.
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe it was the ward.”
Landon scratched at his ear and I could practically feel the discomfort wafting off him.
“You don’t have to hold back. You don’t believe I cast the ward. I know that.”
“It’s not that,” Landon said hurriedly. “I believe you cast it. I also believe it’s possible you might be right, and whoever tried to get into the house last night was blown back.”
“That’s not what the ward was supposed to do, but go on.”
“I’m just a little curious about why you’re interested in displaying all your witchy talents all of a sudden,” Landon supplied. “Before it was like pulling teeth and you only agreed to spells when you didn’t have another option. Now you’re using magic to fight off an assailant. You used a ward and did … something … to someone who tried to get in last night. Should I be worried?”
I was dumbfounded. “No. Why would you ask that?”
“I don’t know. I’m fine with the magic. That’s part of who you are. I want to make sure you’re protected when casting it, but we can find ways to work around that. I’m just curious what brought on this sudden sense of witchy self.”
“I … don’t know.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. “I guess part of it is that I’m the only witch in residence now. I’m supposed to protect this part of our little world, and that’s exactly what I want to do.”
Landon didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Fair enough.”
“Just for the record, what happened two nights ago wasn’t planned,” I added. “You kept telling me to run, but I couldn’t run because that would’ve meant leaving you behind. I acted out of instinct.”
“I know.” Landon licked his lips. “It’s hard for my ego to take that you saved the day. I’m supposed to be the top hairless monkey, after all.”
I cracked a smile, something I knew he was angling for.
“I like knowing you’re powerful enough to take care of yourself,” he continued. “I like knowing that you did something last night that kept a potential enemy away from our home – even though we slept through it and I have no idea what you did. That doesn’t mean I’m okay with someone hanging around the house in the middle of the night. We need to figure what’s going on here.”
“Agreed.” I bobbed my head. “I think I should throw up the wards again and we should drive to the inn. I think we’re going to have to separate after breakfast.”
Landon’s smile slipped. “Why? What do you have planned?”
“Nothing. Don’t you trust me?”
“Not when you smile like that. You remind me of Aunt Tillie.”
I stilled. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Now you sound like her even more. Cast the wards and let’s get out of here. I want to talk to Chief Terry and your mother in case someone who isn’t supposed to be there shows up at the inn. It’s time to get proactive.”
That was a scary thought. “Even Aunt Tillie?”
“Especially Aunt Tillie.”
Yup. A very scary thought.
Twenty-Seven
The inn bustled with activity, and I swear my mother looked as if she’d already been drinking. She sat behind the front desk, head in her hands, and glared as very loud (and possibly huge if the noise level was to be believed) feet stomped around the second floor.
“What’s going on?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“What isn’t going on?” Mom gritted out. “This entire inn is full of annoying people. I can’t wait until this weekend is over.”
The sound of a loud crash filled the air, causing me to jolt. Mom didn’t move a muscle.
“Aunt Tillie?” Landon asked.
“Not unless she found a way to gnaw through the ropes we used to bind her to the kitchen recliner.”
“Then who is making that noise?”
“That would be the guests,” Mom replied, tugging a strand of her hair in front of her face and staring at it. “Do you think it’s possible to go gray overnight? I feel as if that’s happening. It’s possible, right?”
I chuckled, genuinely amused. “Not when you get your color from a bottle.”
Mom narrowed her eyes. “My color is all natural.”
“Oh, puh-leez. You’ve been dying your hair since I was in high school. I think Twila and Marnie started before then.”
“Now you’re on my list.” Mom straightened and made a ghoulish face when more stomping assailed our ears. “That’s it! I’m kicking them all out. I don’t care if it hurts our bottom line.”
“It’s only one more night, maybe two at the most,” Landon reminded her, taking a soft approach. “I’m sure they’re annoying, but they’re barely here as it is because they’re always out searching for game items.”
“Except our property is supposedly the gnarliest property for collection in the entire land,” Mom shot back.
I snickered. “Did they really use the word ‘gnarliest?’ I haven’t heard anyone use that word – well, ever – other than Twila when she’s telling stories about the awesome times you guys all had when you were young and dumb.”
“I was only young,” Mom sniffed. “I was never dumb. I left that to your aunts.”
“Uh-huh.”
Mom heaved out a sigh. “Fine. I know you think I’m being a pill, but I can’t help it. They’re driving me crazy. They spend hours upon hours chasing things through the house at all hours of the night. They try to go into the basement even though I’ve told them it’s off limits. They try to go into the greenhouse even though Aunt Tillie threatened them with a bloody and painful death if they didn’t mind their own business.
“And they fight,” she continued. “They fight over who got to what item first. They fight over who is the best player and who is going to find the wilting witch.”
“Witch of the Wail,” I automatically corrected, hating myself once the words slipped through my lips. “Er, well, at least that’s the way I heard it.”
Landon flicked my ear. “Geek.”
“Listen, my little hairless monkey, I wouldn’t start throwing around names,” I shot back.
Landon cast a worried look to Mom. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you shouldn’t say private names in front of your mother.”
Oh, geez. Of course he would pick now to turn sensitive. “I’d bet word has already spread.”
“Yes, we heard all about Landon being hairless,” Mom drawled. “Aunt Tillie used it as an excuse for why she was back so late last night. When I could no longer take the noise, I came down and found Aunt Tillie tussling with one of the boys from room four. When I asked what she was doing up so late – I mean, the woman passes out at eight every night, did she think I wouldn’t notice? – she claimed that she accidentally saw Landon shirtless and it scarred her for life.”
“She should consider herself lucky to see me shirtless,” Landon groused. “Women everywhere would rip out hair and scratch out eyes for that particular gift.”
I patted his good shoulder. “I know I would.”
“Don’t patronize me!”
“Speaking of Aunt Tillie, where is she?” I dug in my pocket for the journal she’d left. “I have a few questions about the book she gave me. I need her to clear a few things up.”
Mom’s face was blank. “I just told you we tied her to her chair in the kitchen.”
“I thought you were joking.”
“Why would we possibly joke about that?”
“Good point.”
I left Mom to stew and internally curse the guests as I cut through the empty dining room and walked into the kitchen
. Landon immediately moved to the stove where Marnie was dishing up bacon and I slid around Twila, who was haphazardly cutting bread, and focused on Aunt Tillie.
She was indeed tied to her chair … and she didn’t look happy about it.
“What did you do?”
“Oh, don’t give me that look.” Aunt Tillie struggled against her bindings. “I need you to take that knife from Twila and cut me loose.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Marnie snapped when I cast a sidelong look to my flamboyant aunt. “Aunt Tillie is being punished. We’re the only ones who can release her from the ropes. If anyone else tries, he or she will be cursed with cold sores.”
“Definitely don’t free her,” Landon said as he munched on a slice of bacon while leaning against the counter. “Cold sores hurt. And they’ll cut down on the kissing we can do once this case is over.”
“They’re lying,” Aunt Tillie countered, squirming hard. “They only told you that so you won’t help me.”
“Well, it’s working.” I sat at one of the counter stools and poured mugs of coffee for Landon and me. “I don’t want cold sores.”
“You won’t get them.”
“Yes, you will,” Twila warned. “They’ll be bad ones, too. You’ll look like Lila Stevens’ mother that Christmas after she made out with all the drunken elves at the Christmas pageant.”
I involuntarily shuddered at the memory. “Good point. You’re stuck in the chair, Aunt Tillie. I can’t help you on this one. You’ll have to work out your issues with Mom, Marnie and Twila.”
“Oh, but I don’t want that.” Aunt Tillie sounded pitiful. “I need to be able to collect things before the big battle. How can you not understand that?”
“I do understand, and I feel terrible about your mistreatment.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“You are, too. I can tell by the way your hairless monkey is laughing when he thinks no one is looking.”
“Speaking of that, some of Lila Stevens’ mother’s hair fell out when she got the cold sore infestation that one year, so you might want to see a doctor,” Twila offered Landon helpfully.
“I’ll consider that,” Landon said dryly.
A Breath of Witchy Air Page 26
