I awoke to the smell of coffee. Heavenly coffee. I looked over at the sofa, but it was empty. I followed the aroma into the kitchen.
Dante’s stood beside the coffee machine, his eyes transfixed on his cell phone. Spark lay on his feet looking better than the night before. I exhaled. The scene felt oddly domestic.
He lifted his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said.
“Your mother …”
“I know. I may have looked out of it, but I could hear everything that happened around me. It was part of the healing spell.” He wore his jeans low on his lean hips. His black tee-shirt hugged his chest. Morning stubble covered his square jaw. No one deserved to look that yummy in the morning.
I swallowed. “I see.”
“It’s okay,” he said in his low baritone voice, an octave lower than normal. “Women tell me they like me all the time.”
Chapter 24
From the Dirt
"Got to hand it to you, Goldilocks. You do have bleeding tragic taste in men. I got a cousin married to a regurgitating Froglocsteem that's got better instincts than you.” – Spike (Season Four), Buffy.
While I drank coffee at a safe distance from my too-handsome house guest, I sent a text to Zane to tell him I solved the murder. I left out the details but assured him Elif would cause the cove no further trouble. I sent a similar text to Maximo.
I ended both messages asking for help to find Joy. I noticed on my phone that the date had moved. We had slept for twenty-four hours.
I would have texted Eric, if he had a smart phone, but even if he had one, I’m not sure what I would have said. Probably “What the Viking, hay!”
After the kids left for school, Jill took Jane with her in her van to do some haircuts. That left me alone with the man-witch and my fears.
Dante left around noon. He said he had his regular business, whatever that was, to attend to, but promised to back me up if I needed it. He told me to call him as he exited the door.
I picked the kids up from school and we dined on mac and cheese. The kids played, Jill read her new book and I sat on the couch, going over and over in my head the events of the last few days. Could I have saved Joy? Could I still?
Dusk was settling into the landscape as I headed for the teahouse to enlist Azalea’s help. How could I tell her Joy was now a creature of the night? I mean, isn’t that about the worst thing that could happen? Well, next to death, of course. I didn’t know how I would tell her, but I knew I had to tell her.
The teahouse door opened for me. I strode in and got the shock of my life. There, standing at the reservations desk, was Joy sorting papers.
Only this was Joy 2.0. Her black hair was shinier. Her figure fuller. And, when she smiled at me, pointy teeth gleamed in the light of the chandelier. Azalea stood beside her with a cup of tea in her hand as if nothing unusual ever happened in the cove.
Damn.
Maximo appeared in the doorway of the poker room, his grin wide and his eyes gleaming. “Do not worry, Abby. I will mentor your friend in our ways.”
Joy rolled her eyes. “Yes, Maximo has been very helpful, and Azalea says I can take over your night duties here, if that’s all right with you.”
Okay. Many strange things happen in the land of the cove but this had to be the strangest of all. “But!” was all I could manage to say.
“It’s the least I can do,” said Maximo. “You took care of Elif.”
That I had. But this ending seemed too neat. “Joy?”
She shrugged, in her classic Goth way. “I didn’t plan on becoming a vampire, but, you know, it’s not so bad. I’ll stay young forever and I won’t get my period.”
Great, now I had a Pollyanna vampire for a friend.
Azalea kept her Yoda-like grin. “Diversity is part of life,” she said. “The sooner you embrace it, the easier your path will be.”
Now I had a medium spouting philosophy. It was all too much. I threw up my hands.
“Do you mind giving up the night-janitor job?” Azalea’s gray eyes drew me in.
“Oh. Well? No. I guess.” It was the job that had supported me and my family for the last two years, the job that allowed me to get on my feet, the job that brought me and Eric together. Did I still need it? I had a bit of a cushion in the bank thanks to a couple good customers. I didn’t need the job as much as Joy did. I crossed my arms. “I think I can manage without it.”
Azalea smiled. “We will always be here for you,” she said.
And that was the crux of my concern. The teahouse had become my second home, my haven. I wasn’t in love with cleaning fluids or furniture polish, but I loved the house and all its inhabitants. I nodded.
“And your office is upstairs, so we’ll see you lots,” added Joy, the new Joy with the supernatural good looks.
I winced, the familiarity of the comment coming from someone who now felt unfamiliar grated on my senses. “Have you given up on séances?”
“Like you, I have evolved,” Joy said. “I’m not sure who I am, or who I will be. I want to explore new horizons.”
“You sound like a car commercial.”
She laughed, and that laugh broke the awkward tension. It was her old laugh, a wicked chortle, contagious in its authenticity. I laughed with her.
“We will go where no witch and vampire have gone before,” she added.
I doubled over laughing. “And test our wings.”
“I got no wings, but I got style.”
“And fangs.” I laughed so hard I thought I would pee. “And I got magic.”
Our laughter eased a bit. My gut hurt.
“We could do a joint gig,” she said. “1-800-I got magic and fangs.” That cracked us both up again.
“Okay, Fang, glad to know you.”
“Back atcha, Magic.”
The smell of a new batch of freshly baked scones reminded me I hadn’t had breakfast, but, along with hunger came the realization that Joy, who had loved all things sweet, would never binge with me again. My face must have spoken volumes. She said, “It’s okay,” and winked. “I have a different hunger.”
Could she be reading my mind? I hoped not.
Chapter 25
Encountering Guiden
“… it’s sort of exciting, isn’t it, breaking the rules?”
Hermione, Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix
In his ghostly form, Eric had no trouble sliding between dimensions. Made stronger by his immortality, he had become more aware of his presence in each land and time. He squeezed through the final portal to reach his destination: Guiden’s castle in the mountains of Eyacore.
With a popping sensation, he coalesced into a human form inside the front door. As he walked the long hallway, doors on either side dissolved until there was only one left. The experience of being immersed in a sorcerer’s magic might have scared others, but it only aggravated Eric.
He still hated witches, witches of every broom and feather. The fact that he now loved one only made him hate their kind more.
Guiden appeared before him. Dressed in his gray cloak he stretched his body until he stood at eye level with the Viking.
“Back so soon?” His words echoed through his chambers.
Eric didn’t care. He had nothing left to lose. He had lost his life long ago and the only thing that had mattered to him was Abby and their baby. The baby was not meant to be. And Abby? She had chosen to live without him. He had nothing to live for. Nothing. And immortality when you have nothing to live for is a dangerous thing. As he rushed towards the old warlock he pulled his battle axe from its sheath and made a battle cry.
Guiden laughed as Eric ran straight through him.
What magic was this? Eric turned and looked into the face of the sorcerer. The multi-faceted orbs that served as his eyes glowed amidst a blanket of gray mist, which now swirled around them.
The smell of human flesh assaulted his nostrils. He looked down. His skin was on fire. Yet he couldn’t feel it.
“You need to
learn a lesson, Eric. I am your master. You serve me. You —”
Eric pulled a hunting knife from his back, turned and threw it into the air. He heard it hit something hard, but Guiden reappeared three feet from him, seemingly unhurt. His image flickered. “You cannot kill me.”
“Maybe not, but I will die trying.”
A lightning bolt slashed the air and Eric jumped back just in time. Then another from the opposite direction. And another. And another. Eric kept jumping out of the way and, as he did so, he edged towards his target.
“I have nothing to lose,” Eric said. “You took everything from me.”
The bolts stopped for a moment. “Tut, tut. Eric, you exaggerate. Abby Jenkins is but one woman. You will have hundreds in the years to come. Hundreds.”
“I am in love with her.” He edged closer.
“What if I spelled her? Made her your sex slave. Would that be enough for you?”
“No.” Eric’s chest constricted at the thought. “I want her of her own volition, not yours. You have been dead to the human world too long to understand love.”
A pail flew through the air and released a load of nails upon Eric. “But I understand pain.”
As each nail broke his flesh, Eric felt a dose of dark magic enter his body. The annoying prick of nails was nothing compared to the pain of the darkness invading his senses.
He wailed, fighting the demonic essence within him.
“I will command you.” Guiden’s voice echoed inside and outside his mind. “You are mine.”
Eric’s body writhed in pain. “Never.” The burning sensation of his flesh was nothing compared to the burn of the darkness growing within him. Using his warrior training, he pulled his mind away from his physical pain and concentrated on his goal. He had to kill Guiden.
The old sorcerer laughed. “That is impossible, Viking.”
Eric’s mind accepted defeat, but not his heart. If he could not kill him now, he would kill him later. “All right,” he said between spasms of pain.
And with those words all the pain stopped and the air cleared. Eric stood as straight as he could manage. He put a fist to his heart. “I pledge my allegiance.” In his mind he added, to Abby, only to Abby.
The mästere lifted his arms to the sky. “It is done.” He stamped his cane three times.
The Epilogue
"In the end, we all are who we are, no matter how much we may appear to have changed."
~Giles, Lessons, Buffy the Dragon Slayer
A week later …
Jane sat on my lap in her favorite pink tutu. Jinx, in her flannel Wonder Woman pajamas, nestled under my left arm. I held a mug of tepid coffee in my right hand. We took up most of the sofa as we watched Scooby. I loved Scooby. The house smelled of morning pancakes and maple syrup. Shreddie and Jonathon played retrieve with a squeaky Ninja dog-stuffy in the upstairs hallway. The sounds of their laughter and barks drifted down to us. I loved that too. Sunlight streamed through the windows, enticing me to look outside, but I wasn’t eager to rejoin the world, at least not yet.
For the first time in a month, Jill had gone out to cut hair without a hangover, which I attributed to her new love interest who I hoped would take it easy on her troubled heart. She hadn’t introduced us yet, or told me much about him, not even his name, but I would put off worrying about that for another day.
The final puzzle piece in the murder had been solved for me. I couldn’t figure out how Elif had taken Joy from the teahouse. It turned out he had an automated text sent to her, telling her he was in trouble and needed her to come over. Once she entered his lair, his dayman tied her up and Elif took care of her as soon as night fell.
I had stopped bleeding and the doctor had pronounced me healed. Does one ever fully heal from losing a child? I had my doubts. Joy had fully risen from the grave with an enhanced sense of herself and no regrets. I envied the last part. Margaret, with a little coaching from Azalea, found peace conversing with Nelson in her dreams. Zane closed Kumar’s murder case and was busy training for a charity cycling event.
Spark lay in the afternoon sun, on the extra-wide window sill I had built for her. Most of her broken bones had healed, but not her temperament. There was no medicine or magic strong enough to fix that. Every morning I made her a breakfast of fish sticks and served it with her favorite craft beer.
My life had turned normal. I had solved my first whodunit. Granted, it took the village to kill the murderer, but we did it. Elif had got his just rewards and I a solid reputation as the town sleuth. I liked the sound of that word—sleuth. My life was back to normal.
Spark lifted her furry head and gave me her a severe, you’re-off-your-broom expression. In my head she purred, “You don’t do normal.”
My nose twitched a second before I heard a knock on my front door. I opened it to find Dante, with an enormous bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.
As he passed me, his manly scent mixed with the sweet smell of the flowers made me uncomfortably warm. “Dante,” I said, “I’m not sure what surprises me most. You coming to the front door or bringing me flowers.”
“Carina, I would bring you the full moon.” His sinfully dark chocolate-brown eyes glinted with mischief. Oh, eye of newt, I did not need this.
I sighed. “No spells?” If I were to dip my toe into romantic waters with a man-witch I wanted it to be because I truly cared for him, not because he used magic to make me think I did.
“I promise you, no spells between us.” His face scrunched involuntarily. “Unless it’s necessary.”
“Uh-huh.” I laughed. “So, basically, I can’t trust you.”
He winked.
Yeah. That’s what I thought. He followed me into the kitchen where I put the flowers into a vase. I love the way flowers shout happiness.
Hearing the front door open, we returned to the foyer. Eric hobbled in, wincing with every awkward step.
“Oh great, a lame Viking. Just what we need,” said Dante.
“Hello warlock,” grumbled Eric.
“Get a death,” Dante replied.
Ignoring them both I rushed to Eric’s side. “What happened to you?”
“I had a slight disagreement with Guiden.”
“You mean your master,” said Dante.
Eric glared at him with his arctic-blue eyes. “I still have weapons.”
“And I have magic,” Dante replied.
Jonathon screamed. I ran towards the sound. At the foot of the stairs, he lay sprawled on the floor. His skateboard had slid to the far wall. He must have tried to ride down the stairs, again. Shreddie whimpered as he licked the blood off Jonathon’s face. Spark shook her head.
I could call 911, but I wasn’t sure they could fix everything.
Acknowledgments
A big thank you to my team:
My amazing editor Philip Newey, who never misses an opportunity for a comma.
The artists at Authors on a Dime, who created the awesome cover.
My beta-readers who help me fill the holes in my universe. (Barbara Cassata and Darcy Speed). You ladies rock.
Please, dear readers, note that despite all the help I get, I still make mistakes. All errors are my own.
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Other Books in This Series
First in this series:
Midnight Magic
Ghostly Charms, Magic Spells and Secrets …
As the janitor in a haunted house, single mom Abby Jenkins has many contacts with the living and the dead in the small Pacific Northwest town of Sunset Cove, which puts her in a perfect position to solve local mysteries. Or so she thinks. Hired to find diamonds hidden in a haunted manor she gets help from a Viking ghost with existential issues. Will she survive? This book contains bad-boy ghosts, mischievous magic, and a woman who knows what she wants in a Viking hayloft.
Death by Séance Page 13
