“So tell us about this familiar of yours,” Florian said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He knew perfectly well this was a subject that would rankle his mother.
I tried to kick him under the table, but I missed his leg and hit the chair leg instead. I swallowed my cry of pain.
“His name is Raoul,” Marley said, oblivious to the family politics at play. “He’s a raccoon. Can you believe it? We’re so lucky. Not everybody gets to have a psychic connection to a raccoon.”
“No,” Aunt Hyacinth said tersely. “Indeed.” She sliced her meat like she was dissecting a corpse. Probably my corpse. “I can’t help but wonder what your familiar will be next year, Marley.”
Marley’s eyes shone with excitement. “I love cats, so I wouldn’t mind at all to have a cat, but wouldn’t a horse be amazing?”
Aunt Hyacinth nearly choked on her drink. “No witch in the Silver Moon coven has ever had a horse as a familiar.”
Marley continued to shovel down food. “What about a raccoon? If no one’s ever had one of those before, then maybe it’s possible for me to get a horse.”
“There is no advantage to being different,” Aunt Hyacinth said in a clipped tone.
“Then why do we make a big deal about being descendants of the One True Witch?” Marley asked. “That makes us different from the rest of the coven.”
Bless her heart. She was too smart for her own good.
“Cats are just easier,” Aster said. “Horses can’t live in the house with you. It’s harder to form a lasting bond.”
“Is it true your familiar is a criminal?” Hudson asked. Hudson was Linnea and Wyatt’s teenaged son.
I took a long sip of my cocktail. “He has a past, apparently.” I glanced at my aunt. “But now he knows he has a purpose. It makes all the difference.”
“Uncle Wyatt said he stole treasure from the Whitethorn,” Bryn said. She was Hudson’s older sister, and sensible like Marley. Because they inherited their father’s werewolf gene instead of Linnea’s witch gene, they were a source of disappointment to Hyacinth.
“Raoul did not steal from the Whitethorn,” I insisted. “I’m working on clearing his name.”
“Can he comes to dinners?” Aspen asked. He and Ackley were Aster’s young sons.
“Absolutely not,” Aunt Hyacinth snapped.
“Why not?” Aspen queried. “Precious is always here.” Sometimes Precious even drank from a goblet on the table.
“Because it’s a raccoon,” my aunt practically sputtered. “They carry disease.”
“First of all, Raoul is a ‘he,’ not an ‘it,’” I said. “Second of all, he does not carry diseases. He only pretends to have rabies to get himself out of a bad situation. And you said you’d make him a vet appointment for shots, Aunt Hyacinth.”
Aster’s husband, Sterling, broke into laughter. “He pretends to have rabies? Oh, that’s positively brilliant.”
“He’s very clever,” I said. “I think he’ll be a real asset to me.” That much was true. I also felt defensive of him because…well, he was my familiar. I didn’t want anyone talking smack about him. Raoul was basically an extension of me now, so I took it personally.
“He sounds like an ideal familiar,” Florian agreed.
“I’m thinking about sending Marley to the Starry Hollow Music Center for lessons,” I said. “Does anyone have an opinion on Shayla or her sister, Delphine?”
“I’d like to learn to play the guitar,” Marley added.
Florian smiled. “Guitar is a great idea. We could play together.”
“The boys take piano lessons,” Aster said. “But we don’t go to the music center, so I can’t comment on that.”
Linnea glanced at her children. “You have friends who go there, don’t you?”
Bryn nodded. “A few. They seem to like it, although Keeley complains that it smells like damp fur.”
“My friends love going there,” Hudson added. “But I think they really like going because Shayla and Delphine are easy on the eyes.”
“Is that so?” Linnea asked, ruffling his hair. “Then I’m surprised you haven’t asked to go for lessons.” She obviously hadn’t heard about her ex-husband and Shayla’s antics at the Whitethorn. Small favors.
“I prefer sports,” Hudson replied.
Linnea rolled her eyes. “Yes, the constant rotation of smelly socks and uniforms in my laundry reminds me of that fact every day.”
“We’re going for a taster session after school tomorrow,” I said. “It would be good for Marley to have an activity after school.” She had far too much time on her hands if she was breezing through Alec’s epic fantasy books.
“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Aunt Hyacinth said brightly. “Now who’s ready for dessert?”
Chapter 9
The next afternoon Marley and I walked from the middle school into town for her taster session at the music center. Raoul scampered a safe distance behind us. He was still getting used to the idea of being attached to a witch. To be fair, I was still adjusting, too. PP3 had been the only animal in my life until now. I’d already been concerned about the possible addition of a cat, never anticipating that my cat would turn out to be a raccoon.
“You should probably wait out here,” I told Raoul. “I don’t know how acceptable it is to bring my raccoon companion inside.”
Raoul scratched the sidewalk with his claw. Fine. I’ll lurk in the bushes like a common thief.
I sighed. “Don’t get your tail out of joint. It’s not personal.”
Feels personal, he mumbled.
The siren that greeted us in the lobby looked nearly identical to Shayla, except with lighter hair. “You must be Marley Rose.”
“Yes,” Marley replied. “I’m here to learn guitar.”
“Like your cousin?” Delphine queried.
“You know Florian?” Marley asked.
I suppressed a laugh. Delphine was a young, attractive siren. Of course she knew Florian. He was almost as bad as Wyatt in the bachelor behavior department.
“I haven’t had the pleasure of his company,” Delphine said. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” She motioned us into a side room. “Shayla will be with you in a moment. I’m working in the next room on the piano with one of my younger students.” She gave a rueful smile. “I look forward to progressing past Ba Ba Black Sheep.”
“Thanks,” I said, and waited for Shayla.
Half an hour later, we stepped outside into the sunshine and I cast a sidelong glance at Marley. “Did you enjoy it?”
“I did.” She was glowing with excitement. “Will you sign me up?”
“If you want.” I never could have afforded guitar lessons for her back in New Jersey. Despite the upheaval, moving to Starry Hollow had changed our lives for the better. No question.
I scanned the front of the building for Raoul, but there was no sign of him.
“Maybe he was hungry,” Marley said, her voice hesitant. “Should we check the trashcans out back?”
“Bite your tongue,” I said. “He’s not a dumpster diver.” The bushes in front of the window rustled. “Raoul. Is that you?”
The raccoon emerged with bits of shrubbery stuck to his fur. His gait was stiff and awkward.
“Raoul?” I moved toward him and noticed that his eyes appeared even darker than normal. “What’s wrong?”
“He looks weird,” Marley said, coming to stand beside me. “Can you get inside his head?”
I closed my eyes and concentrated. “I hear music.”
“That’s from inside the center. Duh,” Marley said.
“No, it’s playing in his head. A tune.” I listened more intently. It sounded vaguely familiar. I began to hum it aloud.
“I heard that music inside,” Marley said. “Is that what’s in his head?”
“He must’ve heard it through the open window,” I said. But why was it making him act strangely? He seemed to be in a trance.
Raoul’s tail stiffened and he began
to scamper down the sidewalk, away from the building.
“Where’s he going?” Marley asked.
“No clue,” I replied. “Let’s follow him.”
Raoul moved like a drunken sailor, wobbling and winding his way down the sidewalk away from the center of town. It was no easy feat keeping up with him once he began to use trees and fences as climbing frames. I had to resort to magic a couple of times to get through tough spots. Marley, of course, loved every second of it, even when I accidentally turned a telephone pole into a flamingo. Still not sure how I managed that one.
We ended up on the outskirts of downtown, in front of a block of storage units with bright orange doors. We watched Raoul stand in front of the middle unit and then walk straight through the door like it was a mirage.
Marley blinked. “Did he just walk through a solid door?”
“That’s what it looks like.” I ran to the door and placed my palms flat against it. “It’s metal.” I tried to open it, but to no avail.
“How did he do that?” Marley asked. “He doesn’t know magic.”
“No clue.” I pounded on the door with my fists. “Raoul, snap out of it and let me in.” He was liable to get hurt walking around in a catatonic state.
“Use magic,” Marley said, jostling my elbow.
I took out my wand and tried to think of a spell that would open a locked metal door. “Ooh. There’s an unlock spell.” It was one of the first spells I learned from Wren, the coven’s Master-of-Incantation. “Dissere.”
Nothing happened.
“Are you sure you did it right?” Marley asked. “Maybe you need to emphasize a different syllable because it’s Latin.”
I stared at her. “Are you trying to Hermione me?”
She met my incredulous gaze. “Hermione is a verb now?”
I faced the door and tried again, emphasizing the latter part of dissere. Nothing.
“Maybe there’s a protective spell on the door,” Marley suggested.
My eyes widened. “Of course. Raoul clearly entered through magic. Maybe it’s because that’s the only way in.” I closed my eyes and focused on reaching Raoul. This time, I tried a different tactic. Hey, trash panda. This is your witch speaking. Wake up and open the door.
I heard movement from inside the storage unit. Then the door began to creak and rise. It stopped about a foot off the ground, just far enough for Marley and me to duck underneath. Once inside, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
“Mom,” Marley breathed. “Look at all this stuff.”
Raoul snapped to attention. His dark eyes bugged out and he began dancing around the assortment of golden objects and artifacts. Look at all this loot. He picked up a golden chalice—the golden chalice—and sniffed inside. It even smells expensive.
“You’ve never been here before?” I asked.
He shrugged. Doesn’t look familiar. I think I’d remember a place full of treasure.
“You knew how to get in,” I said. “You must have muttered some sort of incantation. I couldn’t open the door from the outside, but you opened it from the inside.”
Raoul surveyed the interior of the storage unit. I don’t know how.
“There was a song playing in your head when we were at the music center,” I said. “You seemed to be in some kind of trance.”
He climbed onto the pile of antique rugs and laid on his back with his paws behind his head. This is the life.
A sound drew our attention to the metal door. A black cat entered the unit. Clenched in its teeth was a gold necklace with a locket. The cat’s eyes had the same glazed look that Raoul had when we saw him in the bushes. The cat didn’t seem aware of our presence. It simply dropped the necklace into the pile of loot and wandered straight back out again, as though dropping an envelope into a mail slot at the post office.
“What the hell?” I said.
Marley plucked the necklace from the pile. “There’s an inscription in the locket. DK loves JC.”
I held out my hand. “Let’s go find the owner right now. That might help us figure out what’s going on.”
Chapter 10
Over at the sheriff’s office, Sheriff Nash studied the necklace. “No one’s reported it missing yet, but it’s probably too soon.” He squinted at me. “So it’s a real cat burglar at large, huh?” I could tell he was resisting the urge to laugh.
“No stranger than a raccoon bandit,” I replied.
“Fair enough.” He tilted his head. “You know what? I think I might know the owner of this. DK loves JC makes it pretty easy.” He frowned. “Sad, too.”
My brow lifted. “Why sad?”
“If it’s who I think it is, JC died a few years back, so this must’ve been taken from DK. Doris Kingsley. She’s an ogre that teaches music at the high school.”
“That’s a bit mean,” I said.
He met my disapproving gaze. “No, she’s an actual ogre.”
Oh.
“And who was JC?” I asked.
“Jensen Cartwright.” The sheriff fiddled with the empty locket. “He was a satyr. He was married to a nymph, but they’d been unhappy for a long time when he and Doris fell in love. The thing was that Jensen’s wife was ill, so he chose to honor his vows and stay with her.”
I felt a lump form in my throat. “But he died?”
The sheriff nodded. “Before his wife even. An accident. Then his wife died about a month later from her illness.”
I blinked back tears. “So he and Doris never got their happy ending?”
“’Fraid not,” he said. “I would think this necklace holds quite a lot of sentimental value.”
“Yes, of course.” I wondered how many other items in the storage unit were more meaningful than they appeared. It was bad enough to have items of value stolen, but sentimental value elevated it to a whole different level.
The sheriff scratched his stubbled chin. “You said it was a black cat that carried it in.”
“Yes, and he looked to be in a daze,” I said. “He wandered in and out without seeming to notice us.”
“Like your raccoon.”
“Exactly,” I said.
“But your raccoon has no memory of being in the storage unit or taking anything?”
I shook my head. “When he was in the trance and I listened to his thoughts, I heard a song playing in his mind. Once the song ended and my voice reached him, he seemed to snap out of it.”
“And you were at the Starry Hollow Music Center when the odd behavior began?”
“That’s right,” I replied. “I’d taken Marley for a taster session. When we left, Raoul was in the bushes, acting strangely. We followed him to the storage unit.”
The sheriff scraped back his chair. “I guess we should go take a look at this place.”
“We can go, but there’s a protective spell on it,” I said. “We only got in because Raoul was under the trance when he entered and was able to let us in from the other side.”
“I’ll call Wren and ask him to meet us there,” Sheriff Nash said. “If anyone can break a protective spell, it’s him.”
Chapter 11
“This is it?” Wren asked, examining the bright orange metal door.
“Yes,” I said. “I tried to use the unlocking spell you taught me, but it didn’t work.”
He cocked his head. “And you’re sure you were performing it correctly?”
My hands flew to my hips. “Don’t patronize me.”
He grinned. “Why not? I get such a kick out of your reaction.”
The sheriff chuckled. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
If eyes could shoot bullets, both men would both be flat on the ground. “If you’re so clever, let’s see you open the door.”
Wren stood and faced the door, placing the tip of his wand at the top. He began to recite an incantation in Latin, drawing his wand down to the ground. The door rattled and shook, until it finally lifted off the ground. Wren gave me a smug look over his shoulder.
“Be
ginner’s luck,” I huffed.
“Actually, there was no spell,” Wren said. “I didn’t feel any resistance.”
He pulled up the door the rest of the way and I gasped upon entering. The unit was empty. But how? The two men looked at me.
“Are you sure this was the right unit?” the sheriff asked.
“One hundred percent,” I said. “This place was full of treasure. Lots of gold.”
Sheriff Nash’s expression softened. “Are you sure you didn’t concoct this story in order to absolve your familiar of any crimes?”
I swallowed an exasperated scream. “No. Absolutely not. Ask Marley. She was with us.”
The sheriff sighed. “And I’m sure your daughter would never lie for you, would she?”
“That’s offensive,” I snapped. “Marley is honest to a fault. So am I, for that matter. When have I ever held back on the truth? If anything, my lack of a filter works against me.”
The sheriff and Wren exchanged knowing glances.
“That’s true enough,” Sheriff Nash said.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much been my experience, too,” Wren added.
I threw out my hands. “So what now?”
“If there was a pile of treasure here,” the sheriff began, “somebody moved it in a hurry. Chances are they left a trail.” He looked from me to Wren. “Anybody mind if I shift? I’m a better tracker in wolf form.”
“Go for it,” I said. “I’m going to go talk to Raoul again and see if he remembers anything.”
“Let me know if you need anything else from me,” Wren said. “Otherwise, I’m hitting the waves before I lose the sun.”
I gave him a quick wave. “See you at our next lesson.”
Chapter 12
Raoul and Marley were waiting for me back at Rose Cottage. Marley had sequestered PP3 upstairs because he was not yet on board with our raccoon guest. The Yorkshire terrier was going to have to accept my familiar’s presence sooner or later. There was no way around it. The trash panda was here to stay, assuming I could keep him out of prison.
Seven Pets for Seven Witches Page 3
