Hold Your Witches

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Hold Your Witches Page 13

by Amy Boyles


  Roman scrubbed a hand down his rugged jaw. “You sure about that?”

  I exhaled a totally self-righteous shot of air. It was somewhere between a really loud scoff and an attempt to hock up a loogie.

  “Of course I’m sure about that,” I said smartly. “I can handle it. What’cha got?”

  “I went to James’s battery store. He wouldn’t run the serial number over the phone and tell me. It’s a thing with him. Wants to see the person requesting the information.”

  I glanced at my watch. “You made good time.”

  “I flew back. Nearly. I had to tell you what he said.”

  “Hit me. What’d he say?”

  Roman cleared his throat like he was biding time. I shook my head, annoyed. Whatever he had to tell me, I could handle. I wore my big girl panties every day. Floral ones. He saw them—and liked them. Whatever it was, it could be dealt with.

  He glanced around the room, grabbed a chair and settled it behind me. “Just in case.”

  I blew him off.

  “He said a woman purchased the battery. Came in alone. Knew what she was looking for. Went right in, grabbed what she needed, paid cash and left.”

  I shrugged. “Okay. So we question Vera again. She bought a battery and didn’t tell me. I didn’t tell her how Lucinda died.” I frowned. “I don’t think. But anyway, she’s the most likely person.”

  “Dylan, it wasn’t Vera.”

  “Oh, so it was Lucinda? Okay.”

  Roman pressed his fingers into his closed eyes. “It wasn’t Lucinda either.”

  “Then who was it?”

  His eyes darkened to nearly black. “Reid. Your sister purchased the battery.”

  NINETEEN

  I sank onto the chair that Roman had placed behind me. “Reid? Why would she buy a battery?”

  Roman pressed a finger to his lips. “I don’t know. We need to talk to her new boyfriend. My guess is he’s behind her actions, one way or another.”

  “He knew Lucinda, but how?”

  Roman ground his teeth. “I don’t know, but I plan to find out.”

  We decided to hit the pool hall that night, but in the meantime there was something I needed to know from Milly. Something I needed her to teach me. I didn’t know why, but I felt an overwhelming need for some magic lessons and she was exactly the person to do it.

  Roman and I made plans to meet up later. Reid would be in the store to work her shift soon, and to be honest, I didn’t want to run into her. So I left Roman to wait for Reid and I headed over to Milly’s.

  She answered the door shortly after I knocked. “You not believe me when I said the woman was thirty-five?”

  I brushed past her and dumped my purse in a chair. “That’s not why I’m here. There’s something going on with Reid.”

  Milly gestured for me to sit. “Want some tea?”

  “With extra sugar, please.”

  She magicked up a service of sweet tea, and I took a long sip before speaking again. “I think Reid might be involved with some shady characters. She purchased the battery that made the not-so-good bomb Roman and I walked into yesterday.”

  Milly stopped sipping. “Reid did?”

  “Yeah. I’m hoping she’s oblivious to the badness she’s involved with, but I don’t know. Which leads me to my next question—how do you split yourself in two? How’d you do it? Because if that’s what someone wants, they might be incredibly close to figuring it out. Reid could be a pawn in this. I’m not willing to risk her. Even if she does hate me right now.”

  “That’ll pass,” Milly said.

  “I hope so,” I mumbled. I shrugged out of the lightweight business jacket I was wearing and rose. “Now. I need you to teach me the spell.”

  Milly eyed me like I was crazy. “What makes you think I’m going to teach you classified magic?”

  “Because you will. Because you’re my grandmother and you don’t want a secret like that to die with you.”

  Tea spewed from Milly’s mouth. “Who said anything about dying?”

  “I’m just saying. Think of this as your legacy. As you contributing to witch history.”

  Milly snorted. “Funny you wanting to be a part of witch history.”

  “Look,” I said smartly, “my attitude has changed a lot since I first became a witch. You should be happy I’m here asking for lessons.”

  “With dangerous magic.”

  “Oh? I didn’t know it was dangerous.”

  She settled the glass on a side table. “You think splitting yourself so that you can be in two places at the same time is a bed of roses?”

  I cringed. “Well, I was kinda hoping so. Is that too much to ask?”

  She studied me. “You really want to learn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you need your grandmother’s unicorn horn.”

  I looked at the ceiling. “Why me? Why can’t things just be simple?”

  “That sort of power won’t come from a single witch. You need something with stronger magic than what you’re capable of conjuring.”

  I fished my phone from my purse and dialed Grandma. Nan answered.

  “You need me to rough anyone up for you?”

  “No, Nan,” I said, sighing. “I just need to speak to Grandma.”

  She put her on the phone. “Dylan, what’s happened? Are you in the hospital?”

  All I wanted to do was speak to her. Why was it that such a simple task always led to Grandma freaking out and creating imaginary stories in her head?

  “No. Why would you think I’m in a hospital?”

  “The way Nan talked, you needed some backup. As if you’d entered a dark alley and was attacked by a rabid raccoon.”

  “That’s not even remotely close to how Nan sounded when she spoke to me.” I raked my fingers through my hair, but all I really wanted was a stiff drink. “Listen, can you come to Milly’s?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll get the Batmobile warmed up.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh. And bring the unicorn horn.”

  She showed up about ten minutes later with Nan.

  Nan patted her hip. “I brought my broadsword. Just in case.”

  “Great. Grandma, did you bring the horn?”

  She presented a thin wooden rectangular box. “Right here. What’re we doing?”

  “Dylan thinks Reid’s in trouble. She wants to learn how to split herself in two. I guess in case she ever needs to use it.”

  “I might need to,” I said. “If the person who has Polly Parrot figures out the spell, someone needs to be able to take them on. Because after all, there will be two of them.”

  “Then teach me the magic,” Nan said. “I’m the best at hand-to-hand contact.”

  “You’re not a witch,” I pointed out.

  “Always a mountain to overcome,” she said.

  I took the box and opened it. Cushioned in velvet sat an ivory unicorn horn. I ran a finger along the spiral. The grainy texture reminded me of antlers.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

  Grandma patted my shoulder. “You break it, you buy it.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Her head bobbed. “Don’t break it.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that instead?”

  Milly clapped her hands. “Enough of the jibber jabber. Let’s get to work.”

  I stood at attention. “I’m ready.”

  Milly slowly rose, balancing on her twisted cane. “The first thing you must do is see two of yourselves. Nan, can you please go in my room and roll out my full-length mirror?”

  “I’m on it,” Nan said.

  She wheeled it in and placed it in front of me.

  Milly continued. “You must focus on that image until there are two of you. Not one. But two. It must be real in your mind; otherwise, the spell won’t work.”

  I stared blankly at the mirror. A thought pricked in the back of my head—only crazy people could look in a mirror and see two of themselves. Well, my
family was crazy, that was for sure, and there were times when I didn’t know how far off I was from crazy, either.

  Only because of them, of course.

  Anyway, I stared at the mirror, willing myself to see two until Grandma said, “Just cross your eyes, Dylan. It’s not that hard.”

  Her words hit me like a sack of bricks. “Oh my gosh, you’re right.”

  I squinted, crossing my eyes just enough that there were two images of me.

  “Got it?” Milly said.

  “I got it.”

  “Now take the unicorn horn and split it down your middle, imagining yourself separating.”

  My gaze darted to her. “How do you reverse this?”

  Milly snorted. “Reverse it? You never asked about that. All we know how to do is split you. I have no clue how to glue you back together.”

  Panic fluttered in my chest. My breathing came fast, staggered. I was about to be in full-fledged hyperventilation mode. “You don’t know how to fix it?”

  Milly cackled. “Just kidding, toots. Fitting you back together is easy. This is the hard part.”

  I took the unicorn horn from Grandma and gripped it tightly. “So just use this to split me and that’s it?”

  “That’s it,” Milly said.

  I felt the ridges of the horn. It was gorgeous. Truly beautiful. An amazing piece of nature that was unbelievable. Within it lay the power to shift and change me in ways that were life altering.

  I moved my attention back to the mirror. The image of two of me appeared in my line of sight. I brought the horn to my sternum, took a deep breath, preparing to split myself.

  I inhaled sharply and let the horn drop to my side. “I can’t do it.”

  Grandma swatted the air. “Chicken.”

  My jaw dropped. “I wanted to know the basics of it in case I ever have to do it. Is it so wrong to be afraid of this?”

  “Yes,” Grandma said. “Why in my day I would’ve jumped at the chance for there to be two of me; that way I could’ve dated two boys at a time.”

  I laughed. “I guess you’ve got to have your priorities.”

  She extended her hand for the horn, which I gave her. “Next time,” was all she said.

  I smiled at Milly. “Thanks for trying to show me.”

  “Anytime,” she said.

  I went home and found Roman in his office. It was a small bedroom that was basically large enough for a desk, a lamp and a closet. It wasn’t much larger than a shoebox, but it worked for him.

  I came around and rubbed his shoulders. “How’s it going?”

  He leaned away from the desk and rubbed his eyes. “Lots of dead ends. I’ve been trying to piece together what Lucinda had been up to for the past few years, but I haven’t come up with much. She traveled around, living in different places. My guess is she stuck to thieving for people. That was what I arrested her for in the past. People hired her to steal. She was very good at it. Flynn said she was into the haunted house thing, but there isn’t even much evidence of that.”

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and nuzzled against his cheek. “We need to talk to him again, anyway.”

  “We need to talk to your sister first.”

  I pulled away. “I don’t know.”

  He stroked my arm. “Dylan, she bought that battery. Purchased it.”

  “You didn’t talk to her when she came to the shop?”

  “No. I want you to do it. She’s your sister and will tell you the truth.”

  I sighed. “She hates me right now.”

  “This is important. You have to talk to her.”

  I leaned against the wall, which was only about a foot back. Like I said, small office. “Okay. I’ll go over there right now.”

  “When you get back, we’ll go track down Mr. Premed. See what he tells us.”

  I headed toward the door. “I’ll be back.”

  Dang it! I’d hoped Roman had spoken to Reid about the battery. Why the heck was he making me do all the hard stuff? Okay, so I guess it wasn’t exactly hard, but it wasn’t easy, either. My sister was being all Godzilla on me lately, and I really didn’t need the stress.

  Maybe I was a chicken after all, like Grandma had said.

  I pushed the thought to the back of my mind as I drove over to Perfect Fit.

  When I arrived, Reid was with a customer. The woman bought a shirt and slacks and then left. As soon as she was gone, Reid leveled a bored stare at me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to give you the rest of the afternoon off—with pay.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you,” she said coldly.

  “In exchange, you have to answer a few questions.”

  Reid groaned. “Not again. I’m not discussing Jeremy with you.”

  I took a seat in one of the chairs sprinkled about the showroom floor. “This isn’t about Jeremy.”

  She stepped back from the cash register and folded her arms. “What’s it about?”

  I inhaled a deep breath. “Can you tell me why you purchased a battery from a store in Huntsville called Batteries ’R’ Us?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I paused, deciding if I said it slower, that maybe the words would hit her. “Okay. I’m talking about you going to a store, purchasing a battery meant for witches and paying cash.”

  Reid shut the cash register. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Reid,” I said, almost laughing. “Come on. Roman talked to the guy at the place. He keeps detailed records whenever a witch comes in and purchases a battery. He said you walked in alone and purchased the battery with cold, hard cash.”

  She scoffed. “He’s got the wrong Reid Apel because I didn’t do that.” She grabbed her purse from under the counter. “Is there anything else you need? Or do you want to quiz me about where I was in 1975?”

  I studied her. She wasn’t lying. Reid wouldn’t lie about this. “No. You can go.”

  She left the store. As I watched her walk down Main Street, I couldn’t help but wonder what in the world would make Reid forget she’d ever gone to the battery store? Or was it something more sinister? Maybe Reid never had the memory of it to begin with.

  Cold dread washed over me. I picked up my phone and dialed Roman. As soon as he picked up, I said, “We’ve got a serious problem on our hands.”

  TWENTY

  Roman’s eyes narrowed when I told him about Reid.

  “What are we going to do? She doesn’t remember what happened.”

  I was back at the house. Roman swiveled in his chair left and right as if that helped him think.

  “We keep to the plan.” He inhaled a deep shot of air, rose and grabbed his keys. “Want to spend the night hanging out with a bunch of dangerous criminals?”

  I pushed the fear quivering in my gut away. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

  Roman raked his fingers across his jaw. “Of course it is. Anyone hurts you and I’ll break their legs. In fact, it’s a promise.”

  Well, okay then.

  “Change into something black and put on dark makeup. I don’t want to give anyone the idea they can mess with us.”

  I did as he said and ended up looking more like Helena Bonham Carter as Bellatrix LeStrange in the Harry Potter movies than myself.

  Roman’s eyebrows lifted to the ceiling when he saw me. He wrapped a hand around my waist and nuzzled my ear. “You should dress like this more often.”

  I shot him a wha-chu-talkin’-’bout-Willis look. “Like I’m going trick-or-treating?”

  He winked. “Exactly.”

  We strode into the pool hall about twenty minutes later. On the way I texted Sera and explained we weren’t home and to leave the food in the fridge if she didn’t mind.

  She didn’t text back, but I figured she was still in recovery mode after the wedding dress viewing with the grandmothers.

  At least, that’s what I hoped was going on.

  We parked and Roman tur
ned to me. “All the attitude you’ve got, put it on your face.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  His gaze bored into me. “All that sass you’ve got buried down inside you. You know, the stuff that comes up when your grandmother drives you crazy? Put it on your face. Don’t let any of these creeps think you’re an easy target.”

  “But I am,” I whimpered.

  “No, you’re not,” he said sharply. “I never would’ve married you if I thought so. You can take care of yourself better than most wild animals.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  His gaze drilled into me. “Yes, it is. Now. We’re going to walk in there, and I want the darkest, angriest resting witch face you’ve got plastered all over you.”

  I cringed. “I just don’t know if I can do it.”

  “If you don’t, we might lose Reid.”

  Three minutes later we were standing inside the pool hall and I was shooting fiery laser daggers at anyone who dared even glance in my direction.

  Premed Jeremy and the gang hadn’t arrived yet, so Roman and I spent some time shooting pool.

  As soon as we grabbed a table, everyone around us splintered to other areas. It appeared no one wanted to look like they were affiliated with Roman.

  Didn’t bother me any.

  After about an hour Jeremy walked in with a couple of other guys. He saw us, said something to his friends and walked over, hand outstretched.

  “Roman Bane,” Jeremy said. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself to you the other night. I am a huge fan. Huge.” He pressed a palm to his heart. “You’re like, my hero.”

  Roman stared at his outstretched hand. I have to admit, if I’d been on the receiving end of that, I would’ve been seriously intimidated.

  “If I’m your hero, why’re you spending time at a criminal hangout?”

  Jeremy pulled back his hand and slicked it over his semimohawk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What criminals?”

  “Can it,” Roman said. “You know good and well what sort of place this is. What’s your story? I thought you were premed.”

  “I am.” Jeremy brushed his hair from his eyes with a toss his head. “I’m studying magical herbs and how they work on the body. I want to be a witch doctor.”

 

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