by Gina LaManna
Mom: I’m worried, Ainsley. You have til 11 p.m. to call me, or else I will phone MAGIC, Inc. and report you missing.
Mom: Your father says to leave you alone, but I’m calling anyway if I don’t hear from you in twenty minutes.
I checked the time: 10:42.
“I’m sorry, I need to deal with this for one second. I’m going to run inside and show my face or else my mom will send the Agents—er, the police after us because she thinks I’m missing, and that would not be convenient.”
“I’ll come with you,” Beck volunteered. “Would that help?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Under most circumstances, I’d say yes, but tonight, no. I’m just going in and out—five minutes, I promise.”
“Of course.” A slightly crestfallen expression wiped over his face, clearing almost as quickly as it’d come. In its wake he smiled, the wattage a little duller than usual. “We’ll wait here.”
Putting one foot on the top of the ladder, I clarified. “I just meant that my mom would love you. She’d want to talk your ear off until the sun rose, and we don’t have that kind of extra time. Maybe a different day?”
The twinkle returned to his eyes. “Of course.”
I glanced at Fiona. “Need anything?”
She made herself comfortable on the chair. “I’m fine, but hurry back. We do not have long before my brother realizes I’m gone.”
I dropped to the ground from a few feet in the air. While I was crouched down, I heard a purring sound coming from the bushes. The next second, V strode proudly out from his hiding place, twirling his furry body through my legs.
“Go away,” I hissed. “Go away, V. This isn’t funny. Why is your timing so horrible?”
Fiona leaned out over the edge of the treehouse, made a soft clucking noise in her throat that didn’t sound entirely human, and held out her hands.
To my utter shock, V took off up the ladder and leapt into Fiona’s outstretched arms. Now purring like a happy kitten, he curled into her embrace. I’d never seen him listen to anyone, obey a single command, or even look happy, yet in the last minute alone, he’d done all three.
I gave Fiona the thumbs up and made my way toward the front of the house. I’d barely raised my fist to knock when the door swung open from the inside.
“There you are! I was so worried!” my mother exclaimed. “What happened to your phone?”
“I was working,” I said, trying to figure out what was off about the image. Normally, my mother would be reaming me out for not responding to her twenty-six messages, but she had a smile on her face like it was her birthday. “What’s going on?”
I tried to sidestep my mother into the house, but she blocked my entrance. “I’m happy to see you dear, but aren’t you missing someone?”
“What are you talking about?” I pointed toward the house. “Am I not allowed inside?”
My mother finally let out a huff of hot air. “What’d you do with him? Send him away? Are you that ashamed of us, Ainsley?”
“What are you talking about?” I stepped through the doorway while my mother poked her head out, scanning the front yard. “Who are you looking for?”
She shut the front door and turned to face me. All signs of a smile had disappeared. “That boy! I saw you sneaking into the treehouse with him. Are you so embarrassed of your parents that you bring a boy home and then make him wait in the treehouse?”
A slow burn crawled over my face, heating like the drip of candle wax. I coughed. “What boy?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Ainsley.” She shook her finger at me. “I saw you two sneaking up to the treehouse, and then I ran upstairs and reapplied my makeup. Here I was thinking you wanted to bring him inside and meet your parents. Heaven forbid my daughter ever has a boyfriend she brings home!”
“Mom, I think you’re taking this a little bit too far.”
Dramatically, she swept a hand across her forehead and let her body collapse onto the couch. “My own daughter, so ashamed of me that she can’t even bring her first boyfriend home to meet her mother.”
“Mom, it’s not like that. I can explain—” A knock on the door cut off my explanation. I rushed to the door before my mother could move from the sofa. “I got it.”
I peeked through the keyhole, enhanced by magical charms to show any witch or wizard who may be using invisibility charms or image-altering enchantments. The person standing on the front stoop made me do a double take. Beck.
“Who is it?” my mother asked. “I’m not up for visitors right now. I’m too busy mourning.”
I yanked open the front door. “What are you doing here?” I hissed. “Now’s not a great time.”
“I heard everything,” Beck mumbled, only for my ears. “I didn’t want your mother to be disappointed in you, so I’ll take one for the team. Hello,” he said, leaning around me and offering a friendly wave. “Are you Ainsley’s mother? She’s said so much about you. Sorry I’m late—I had to run back to the car. I forgot something.”
In a flash, my mother was on her feet and brushing her hair back. Her eyes widened at the sight of him standing there in all of his tall, broad-shouldered glory.
“Are you…” She turned to me, star struck. “Is this the boy?”
I closed my eyes and prayed for quicksand to eat me whole.
“Detective Wesley Beck,” he said, extending a hand. “Everyone calls me Beck, if you prefer. I’ll answer to anything.”
My mother reached out, dropping her hand in his like a limp fish. He proceeded to shake it gently.
“Very nice treehouse you have back there.” Beck smoothly thumbed toward the backyard. “Ainsley showed it to me just now; she couldn’t stop talking about how much she loved spending time in there with her father. I thought it was really neat the two have such a close bond.”
At this, my mother collapsed for a second time onto the couch, except this go around, it wasn’t an act. Judging by her blank expression and closed eyes, she was out cold. Fainted.
“Now look what you’ve done,” I said to Beck. “You’ve stunned my mom into shock.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” I said. “She just gets overexcited sometimes.”
“I can see why you haven’t brought a date home before.”
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Oh yes. Just wait until she finds out you’re—” I almost said human, but I stopped myself. “Wait ’til she finds out how great you are; then you’ll never be able to keep her away.”
While we’d been speaking, Beck had made his way over to the couch and was listening to my mom’s breathing patterns, feeling her heartbeat. The frown on his face told me something was wrong.
“Her heartbeat is erratic,” he said. “I don’t think anyone should ever have this fast of a heartbeat. We need to call 911 right away.”
I realized then, with a wave of idiocy, that of course her heartbeat sounded strange to Beck. Magic caused our hearts to beat a little bit faster, a little bit harder than the human heart. To a trained ear, the difference was noticeable.
“Nah,” I said waving a hand. “She’s okay.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I’m telling you, she’s not—”
“Oh, here I am,” my mother said, coming back to consciousness. “How wonderful to wake up in the arms of such a handsome young man. Good job, Ains,” she said with approval. “Good looking and great bedside manner.”
“Anyone would have done it, ma’am,” Beck said with a confused look on his face as my mother patted his cheek. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Would you like me to call someone?”
“Just the news stations to report that my daughter has a boyfriend!” Spritely as a teenager, my mother jumped to her feet. “I’ve never felt better. Anyone want a coffee?”
Beck’s face froze in shock at my mother’s quick recovery. I could tell he wanted to listen to her heartbeat some more, maybe even take her to the hospital, but he refrained from commenting—probably because my mother
was already whistling a tune and banging around in the kitchen.
“My mother is a freak of nature,” I whispered as an explanation. “Don’t ask too many questions. Let’s have a coffee and get out of here, okay?”
He took my hand in his. “Whatever you say.”
I paused in dragging him back to the kitchen, taking a moment to offer him a smile. “Thanks for doing that,” I said softly. “You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.”
“Had to meet them sooner or later.” He winked. “And that coffee smells delicious.”
My mother had coffee and cookies set out on the table. We sat down, even as I threw one excuse after another about why we couldn’t stay.
“You ignored me all day, Ainsley. Sit down, have a cookie, and you can take off. I know it’s late, but I’m your mother, and I say you can stay up five minutes past your bedtime tonight.”
“I don’t have a bedtime,” I muttered to Beck. “In case you were wondering.”
He grinned.
“So, what are you?” My mother scrutinized him. “I thought when I first saw you climbing up the treehouse that you might be a member of the Frost Clan, but you don’t seem…cold enough.”
“Mom,” I said, shooting her a pleading look. “Stop pestering him.”
“I’m just wondering! I don’t mind whatever it is. Are you a fairy, dear? Your eyes are quite bright, so I wondered.”
When Beck realized the question was directed at him, he turned a shade of red so deep that he looked on the verge of suffocation. “Uh,” he spluttered. “Erm, nope, don’t think so. Not my cup of tea.”
I let my forehead fall to the table.
“What?” My mother shrugged. “I wouldn’t have cared. He could be a gargoyle for all I care. Oh, that reminds me, I have a message for you to pass on to George. You still see him, don’t you?”
“No clue what she’s talking about,” I said to Beck. “Ignore her. She’s dazed from her fast heartbeat.”
“Oh dear,” my mom said, not sounding sorry at all. “I suppose I’m embarrassing my daughter; I should probably stop. I am curious though—is there a bit of giant in your blood? You’re rather buff. I love those muscles.”
Beck looked down at his arms. “Not that I know of,” he said. “Regular old hum—”
“My mom’s escaped from the looney bin,” I interrupted. Before he could spill the beans to my entirely unobservant mother, I continued. “Can I have another cookie?”
Most witches could sense magical beings versus humans. However, my mother must have been struck senseless by the fact that I’d roped a man at all, so she likely had not even stopped to consider the fact that he might be human.
She frowned disapprovingly. “Is a cookie really worth interrupting your date as he’s explaining his bloodlines?”
“Sorry,” I said. “Hungry.”
Looking down, I realized I’d eaten through half a roll of cookies. My mother cast a judgmental gaze first at the sweets, then at Beck, probably comparing his beautiful body with my very average one. “Eat a green bean,” she said finally. “There are no more cookies.”
Beck eyed the roll of cookies sitting out on the counter, but thankfully, nobody commented further. I searched my brain for mind-numbing topics of conversation, but I couldn’t come up with anything good.
“We should probably get going,” I said finally. “I have work tomorrow, and so does Beck.”
My mother masked her disappointment well. “I suppose I should be happy that you’re working at the library now instead of fighting monsters,” my mother said as Beck’s shoulders went straight as a board. “Which reminds me, Millie called and asked for you. Your first day of work went well?”
“Great!”
My mother’s brows furrowed deeper. “You’re lying to me, Ainsley. If I find out that you blew up buildings or hit another cop car with your broomstick, I am going to tell your grandmother. I will let her throw you in finishing school!” She turned to Beck, a dainty smile on her face. “Another cookie?”
I reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling the detective toward the front door before he fainted on the same couch my mother had. Yanking the door open, I waved goodbye to mom, but she didn’t wave back. Instead, she stared with horror over my shoulder. As I turned around to see what had rendered her speechless, I almost fell over myself.
There, on the front steps, stood none other than my grandmother. Prim and proper and still, she looked like a painting. Her thin lips parted in disapproval as her nose tipped high in the air. She gave two dainty sniffs, then wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled rotting eggs.
“Human,” she said in disgust. “Where is he?”
Before I could say anything to make matters better—or more likely, worse—another figure arrived behind my grandmother. This time, it was the princess.
Fiona stumbled into the house, her breath coming in gulps. Her white hair flew wild behind her in the breeze as she cast a frightened gaze on all of us. “Hurry!” she cried. “He’s coming!”
Chapter 28
After a moment frozen in time, my grandmother blew out a measured breath of air then turned on her heel. “I don’t have time to deal with this craziness. Men coming at all hours of the night, dishes from dinner still not washed—Ainsley, that hair of yours looks like it’s been made into a home for rats.”
“Oh, well—”
“You really should consider an application to The Finishing School,” my grandmother told me as she marched straight back out the door. “Goodnight.”
In her absence, Fiona took a hesitant step into the room. I grabbed her hand and pulled her farther inside. “Mom, meet the Ice Princess. Fiona, this is Amalia, my mother.”
My mother’s eyes widened. “Princess, it’s a pleasure.”
“Call me Fiona.” Reaching a hand toward my mother, she smiled, her pale lips curving up in a delicate motion. “Pleasure to meet you, but really, we must get moving.”
I turned to Beck, my face crumbling in apology. “I am really sorry about all of this. Are you sure I can’t convince you to leave?”
“Listen, Ainsley…” The detective put a hand to his forehead, steadying himself before he spoke. “I’ll be honest, I have no clue what’s going on here.”
“I know,” I interrupted in a hushed voice. “You shouldn’t even be here. I’ll explain everything tomorrow. Please, just go home.”
“I asked you to listen, not to explain anything.” His voice hardened around the edges. “I sat in my car all day waiting for you. I lost all feeling in my toes on three different occasions. Then I met your mother, and she is wonderful, but she called me a fairy and asked if I had giant blood. That’s before your grandmother sniffed me.”
“My grandmother is something else.”
“I don’t know what any of it means, and to be quite frank, I’m not sure I want to. What I do want, however, is to stay here and help you get out of this mess.”
We watched each other for a long moment, my chest heaving with deep breaths as I struggled to find an appropriate answer. Finally, I realized that no words would be enough. Instead, I tipped forward into his arms, my fingers trembling as I grasped him in a hug. Then he kissed me on the forehead, a tender touch of his lips as he brushed the hair back from my neck.
“We’ll get through this,” he murmured, “but I am not letting you off the hook afterward. I need some answers.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll tell you everything I can.”
“Great. Now that we’ve got that settled, is your mother okay? She’s staring at us and looking ill.”
I glanced toward my mother. She had frozen watching us, her mouth wide open.
“Mom,” I said. “We’re right here. Two feet away. Stop staring.”
“How romantic,” she gushed, flinching at my voice. “How wonderful.”
“Be prepared to catch her,” I said to Beck. Squeezing my mom’s shoulders, I gave her a shake. “Mom, we need Dad. Where is he?”
“Why are you always finding trouble, Ainsley?” My mother shook her head at me, then turned to face Beck. “Her middle name is trouble, you know. If you’re smart, you’ll wrap yourself in a bubble and stay away from her.”
“My middle name is not trouble,” I said to Beck. “It’s Jameson. My dad wanted a boy. Don’t ask questions. And Mom, I thought you wanted me to start dating.”
“He deserves a warning,” my mom whispered, as if he couldn’t hear us.
“I’m well aware,” he said with a smile. “She was getting into trouble the night we met, running into my car with her broomstick.”
My mother gawked. “You’re the one who ran over my daughter?”
Beck stepped back. “No, I—”
“At least three different ladies from the club called me once the news broke!” Her voice raised to a shriek. “Here I was, thinking you were a gentleman. Keep your car away from my daughter!”
Beck looked to me for help.
“It’s true,” I said with a shrug.
He looked dumbfounded, so I sighed.
“Fine, it’s not his fault,” I said. “I wasn’t paying attention when I was flying, and he came out of nowhere, and—”
“You were flying?” Beck asked faintly. “In the air?”
“Where else should she be flying?” my mother asked, her fingers balled into fists. Her defensiveness was almost adorable. “Not underneath your car tires, I know that much for sure.”
“He’s a human, Mom. Stop with the arguing, and tell me where Dad went.”
“In the attic,” she said tersely. Sticking a finger into Beck’s chest, she narrowed her eyes. “Watch yourself, buddy.”
“I’m sorry,” he called after my mother, but she’d already stomped toward the kitchen. His arms fell limply to his sides, a defeated expression on his face.
“Don’t worry.” I squeezed him in a side-armed hug. “We have much bigger problems than a first date going wrong.”
Fiona shepherded us toward the back of the room then, the three of us sprinting upstairs and bursting through the door to the attic all at once. Moonlight licked through the French doors, spilling onto the photos lining the rest of the walls.
