I stepped into the foamy water, leaned back and closed my eyes.
“So, are you doing this for David, or this Phil guy?”
I screamed and dunked myself at the same time, which caused me to inhale some fizzy water. I sat back up, sputtering and snorting, the water and herbs from the bath bomb burning my nose and throat. When I could open my eyes well enough, I spotted Max precariously perched on the side of the tub, looking at me as if I’d grown horns. “What—” I coughed and wiped at my face. Ew…this stuff was burning my eyes. “What are you doing in here? I locked”—cough—“the door!”
“Yeah, but I’m your familiar. I can go where you go.” His cat eyebrows arched up in surprise. “I didn’t tell you that?”
I gave him an utterly hateful look. “I think…” And I coughed again as I grabbed for the towel I’d set on a small table by the faucet. “There’s a lot you’re omitting. Is there a way to stop you from going where I go?”
“Would you really want to? I mean, we’re a team, right? And what if you got in trouble and I couldn’t get to you?”
I wiped at my face and put the towel back. I didn’t get out of the tub. I wasn’t about to waste the bath bomb. Instead, I turned the hot water back on to refresh it. Twinkle had been stopped from getting to Melody when he and she were kidnapped by Tad. But the cat had also been tranquilized or spelled or something. So it was possible to stop a familiar. But I sure as the sun wasn’t going to drug my familiar just so I could take a bath.
Och.
Max watched me for a minute, and when I didn’t answer, he hunched down. “So?”
“So?” I echoed, and leaned back again in attempt to achieve nirvana, even with a cat glaring at me. This gave a whole new meaning to the age-old question, do animals watch us when we undress?
“So, who is this smelly bath for?”
“It’s for me, Max. I need to calm down and make sure I’m ready for the evening.”
“This Phil was that important?”
I didn’t answer. Mostly because I didn’t know what to say. Not at first. The affair with Phil had been bright, fast and very hot, like a comet hurdling toward the earth. But like a comet, it burned out fast when he stopped calling and I stopped caring.
Or so I thought.
Now he was here and had made a point to make contact with me. Why? I was with David now. Yes. With David. A vampire. Who turned into a wolf. And I was a witch. Though I’d kinda never mentioned that last thing to Phil, because I’d been denying my heritage. Quietly.
I looked at Max, not realizing I’d been staring at the bathwater as the last of the bath bomb fizzled out. “I…I never thought about seeing Phil Boscawen again. I mean, his career path changed when the show took off and we went our separate ways.”
“Does David know?”
“About Phil? No.”
“You gonna tell him?”
I blinked. “Why? That was over a year ago. And Phil and I have moved on. I want to be with David.”
“Ginger.” Max straightened up and tilted his head to his right. His green eyes glowed. “You’re about to put David in a situation he’s unaware of. Meaning, he’s going to be in an enclosed space with one of your former lovers and not know it. What if Phil says something about it? David will be taken off guard. Is that fair?” His whiskers moved. “Would you like it if the situation was reversed and it was one of his former lovers?”
“I just…” Okay, how was I going to put this without sounding crazy? “I just don’t want to sound like I’m bragging.”
“Bragging…” Max slowly shook his head. “Okay, you got me there. How is this bragging— Oh. You mean telling David you once had an affair with a pseudo-celebrity.”
“Not pseudo. Ghost Watchers is a major television hit.”
“Yeah, and so are the other thirty or so ghost shows on the air. Now, you tell me you’ve slept with Brad Pitt and we’ll have something here. But take my advice and let him know—”
“Fine.” I held up a hand, splashing him with water. He instinctively hissed and jumped down. “Sorry. I’ll tell him, okay? Maybe I can text him to get here earlier so I just…I don’t know…take him aside and fill him in.” I thought about the idea. “Yeah, you’re right. I should at least let him know.”
Max didn’t answer. “Max?” I sat forward and sloshed some water over the sides of the tub. I moved carefully to my knees, not wanting to slip and crack my head open on the porcelain, and looked around. Not a cat in sight. “And I’m talking to myself. It’s gonna be a long night. I can’t wait till it’s over.”
David agreed to come earlier than planned. So instead of running by his house to change, he would come straight from work and shower at Mama D’s. He arrived at the house by four thirty. I gave him a tight hug, and he pulled back with a concerned look in his beautiful eyes when I held on to him too long. “You okay? Did something happen? Is it Melody? Does she not want me here?”
“No—I mean, yes. Yes that she doesn’t want you here.” I smiled up at him as we stood in the kitchen together. Two of Mavis Mulroney’s best chocolate pies sat thawing on the counter amid Mama D’s preparation for dinner. She’d actually called David and had him pick up a few more things, which he’d handed her upon entering the house. I spotted large loaves of bread, which I hadn’t found at the grocer, and some tubs of Mr. Spinoza’s pasta sauce, made fresh daily at his Italian restaurant, Spinoza’s.
Looked like Mama D was gonna cut some corners tonight.
“And what’s the rest of it?” David asked with genuine concern in his eyes as he looked at me.
“The rest,” Mama D interrupted as she moved around us, “is that you smell like an autopsy room. Go shower and then get back down here. I need you to make that manicotti you whipped up a week ago.”
He half turned at his waist and looked around. “You have enough of the large shells? And both cheeses?”
“I got mozzarella and ricotta, tripled the amount you scribbled down. And by the way—you’re definitely a doctor. Your handwriting is atrocious.”
“Thanks. I’ve been told.” David stepped away from me, and I watched him do a mental count of the items on the counter. “How much sausage did you get?”
David liked to make a side dish with Italian sausage, parmesan, tomatoes and onions. That way, those who wanted some meat with their pasta could add that to their plate.
“I tripled that as well. Now shoo—you smell terrible. I can put Ginger to work.”
He kissed me. “Let’s make some time between meal finished and arriving guests, okay?”
I smiled as he rushed up the stairs.
“You haven’t told him about this guy coming, have you?” Mama D said as she handed me the boxes of tube noodles and pointed at a large pot of boiling water. “And salt it, too.”
I salted the water before adding in a bit of extra virgin olive oil. “I was going to tell him now, but you pushed him upstairs.”
“He smelled like a mortuary.”
“I didn’t notice.”
She made a rude sound as she crumbled the sausage in a large, hot skillet. “You don’t notice much of anything around him. Oh, I’m not judging you, girl. I like David. He’s probably the best example of man-ness brought into this house. You haven’t seen the weirdoes Melody’s dated a few times.” She made another rude noise.
I smiled as I dropped the noodles in the water. “That actually makes me feel better. Hopefully I can pull him aside before Phil gets here.”
“You never told me about this Phil.”
“Nothing to tell.” I shrugged. “It was short, hot and sweet.”
“Ew. I don’t need to know the details.” Mama D grabbed a spatula and moved the sausage around, then added in spices and a few herbs from the plants over the sink, basil and oregano being the prime ingredients. “I find it interesting this man requested you for dinner?”
“Maybe he just wants to discuss old times?”
“Or maybe you told him you were a witch?�
�� Mama D looked over at me. We were both facing the stove. “Is he…”
I looked at her sideways. “Is he what? A cowen? He’s not a witch, but he’s not exactly…” I sighed. “He’s a medium. And he’s a good one.”
“The show notes on this program says he’s a psychic.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrugged. “Most people to don’t realize there’s a difference. But I’ve seen him in action. He’s a medium. And he’s devoted his life to the paranormal. Loves the stuff. And he’s good at producing. Did you know before he became this show’s producer, he worked on The World Is A Terrarium?”
Mama D’s jaw dropped. “I love that show.”
“Yep. And he worked on a sitcom… What was it? It had a talking cat on it—”
“High Tails?” Mama D said quickly.
She was half stirring the meat, so I reached over and took the spatula from her. “Yep. He produced that one too. Not one of his favorites because—get this—he doesn’t believe in talking animals.”
“Then he’s in for a surprise if Burt or Max or Twinkle decide to throw in some commentary.”
“Oh no.” I stepped back. “They can’t talk. Not around these guys. The last thing we need is for them to see and hear the familiars talking. Granny, there is a reason I didn’t tell Phil what I was—”
“Besides the fact you were in denial?”
I held out my hands. “Fine. These guys are hard-core. If they get a glimpse into what we can do, they’ll stop at nothing to expose us to the world on that show. And I’m afraid Phil will be the main driver. My old relationship with him won’t matter at all.”
Mama D’s expression changed. I knew she didn’t like anyone prying into her personal life, nor did she tolerate anyone hurting her family. I might have just doomed Phil’s relationship with Mama D before it started. She said, “Then you really need to protect David. The last thing you want is for them to find out he’s a vampire and a shifter. Castle Falls was created to protect us”—she held out her hands—“the unconventional conventional. We live in relative peace here. Away from the spotlight. Now your sister’s brought that light into our town. It’s gonna be our job to make sure they only see what we want them to see, or we’re all in a mess of trouble.”
FOUR
Much to my worry, David and I never got that time alone I’d planned on. Melody arrived at six with the cast in tow. The mayor was bringing the other guests with him. I’d just finished getting dressed in the only nice clothing I owned, a black dress I’d bought at a secondhand store. It still had the tags on it! And it fit perfectly. I’d also managed to straighten my hair, and was amazed how long it was when it wasn’t curling all over the place.
I’d seen David’s eyebrow raise of approval just before the door opened. And I liked my vampire lover’s khakis, wine-red shirt and loafers. He looked so…normal.
And beautiful.
Melody made introductions as everyone filed into the foyer. We rarely used Mama D’s front door, preferring the side door or the shop. It was probably one of the nicest parts of the house, complete with a stone floor, arched door and modest, elegant chandelier overhead. The stairs were on the left. Past that was the dining room, living area and kitchen, and then the shop my dad had built into the house.
“Oh, something smells nice.” I recognized the woman who commented. Not because I knew her, but from the few episodes I’d watched of the show. This was Harper Van Wesson, the group’s leader for their investigations and the face that the fans knew on sight. She was a retired detective turned paranormal investigator and somewhat of a self-proclaimed psychic. She used cards and a crystal ball. I wasn’t sure of her accuracy—but then, I hadn’t been paying attention to the show.
“That would be David’s manicotti,” Mama D said as Melody introduced them.
“It’s heavenly,” Harper said as she followed Melody’s lead and looked at David.
“I’m David. David Flanagan,” David said as he shook Harper’s hand.
“Gorgeous and a cook.” Harper’s gaze lingered a bit too long on David’s face, and when he tried to remove his hand, she held on.
“And a doctor,” Melody piped up, and I wanted to shove her back out the door.
“And taken,” I said as I stepped in close and held out my hand. “I’m Melody’s sister, Ginger Blackstone. David’s girlfriend. Pleasure to meet you.”
Apparently my name was enough to drag Harper’s gaze away from David. Her head snapped in my direction and I got an obvious head-to-toe once-over. She took my hand, and her grip was that of a corpse. Cold and stiff. “Well, well, well…so you’re the infamous Ginger.” She didn’t say anything else, but man, if her gaze could slice meat, I’d be on bread, piled high and smothered in condiments.
Whoa, woman.
I pulled my hand away just as a tall Asian man stepped up to me. He was cute and had a smile that brightened the room. “Hi, Ginger. I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Brett Anderson. I do the gadgets for the show.”
His handshake was warm and strong, and he made me smile. “Oh yes, I remember you. I did your books and Phil’s—” And the name was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I hesitated, expecting Phil to appear in front of me like a ghost from the past.
Brett’s smile diminished some. “Yeah, Phil’s not with us. He’s wrapping up some things at the Delaney House.”
“I’m sorry, sis,” Melody said as she pushed through to us in the crowded foyer. “I know you must be disappointed. But Mr. Boscawen and Miss Corvis will be here in an hour.”
“Disappointed?” David mouthed to me when I looked at him.
I smiled at him and threw imaginary daggers at Melody’s back as she turned away. She made a point of saying that with David standing right there!
Och!
“Who is Miss Corvis?” Mama D said, giving her granddaughter the hairy eyeball. Hehe. Get her, Granny.
Brett said, “She’s the psychic we’ve been working with. She’s pretty good, but she and Phil were having a disagreement about the house’s history.”
“Oh?” Melody said. “We’ll have to introduce the two of them to Beverly Norris when she and the mayor arrive. Beverly’s our town historian, so maybe she can help.”
Mayor Jefferson Hatchett arrived just then, bringing with him Beverly Norris, whom I’d met about a year ago. She was a lovely woman, with smooth, dark skin, almond eyes and a bewitching smile. She had the calmest aura, and she and Mama D hugged as they moved away to talk in whispers.
That was when Mavis Mulroney walked in. I hadn’t been expecting to see her. Melody introduced her to the cast, and I was a bit surprised when she abruptly came and stood behind David and myself.
“You okay, Miss Mulroney?” David asked her in a soft voice.
“I’m fine. I’m just not used to so many cowens.”
Cowen was a Wiccan term used for those who were non-magical. Not witches. I wasn’t a fan of the word myself, but it was ingrained in the craft. I liked saying “normals.” Though I really didn’t think of myself or my family as abnormals. Eh…seemed there was no wining with words.
“Ginger!”
I looked at the door at my name, and a smile broke out on my face as I recognized my old high school friend. “Cassandra!”
Cassandra Walker and I had known each other through school in Castle Falls. Where I was medium height with curly red hair (except for tonight because I’d straightened it), Cassandra was tall, blonde and model perfect. I’d always envied her looks, not to mention her beautiful upswept eyes.
Cass had never been part of the magical set in town, but she was the closest thing I had to a best friend. She’d left the small town for college, but had recently returned to take over as the head librarian so she could take care of her ill father. Recently she’d been a suspect in a series of murders in town that dealt with the book. And luckily, Cassandra had been innocent.
We moved through the crowd to each other and hugged. Like Beverly, Cass had a wonderful feel
about her, and we were never at a loss for conversation. She knew all about the town’s rather odd contingent—witches, shifters, vampires and the occasional fae now and then—and could be a font of information on each race and magical ability. If I was Batman or Nightwing, she’d be my Oracle.
Cass pulled me aside after David said hello and was abruptly pulled into a conversation with the mayor and Harper. “Don’t look now, but see who else came to dinner?” She nodded to the still-open doorway.
My jaw dropped when I saw Mildred Thumper, the town’s self-proclaimed moral authority. And I wasn’t kidding on that. I wasn’t really sure what her deal was—I just knew she detested the Blackstones, and the Donahues, which were my family. She also detested anything that smacked of the supernatural and enjoyed calling out in public those who smelled devilish to her.
The good news was that she had a very small following of people who believed magic should be rooted out and cleansed. But Mama D wasn’t as tolerant of Mildred as I was. In fact, I looked over at my granny to see what her reaction would be to the arrival of the Thumper.
“Uh oh,” Cass said as we watched Mama D excuse herself from Beverly and push her way through to Mildred, who stood in the doorway with her purse hanging on her arm, wringing her hands.
I expected Mama D would throw her out.
“Welcome, Mildred,” Mama D said, and gently took the woman’s elbow, leading her inside. “Sorry, but I do need to close the door. No need to air-condition the entire evening, right?”
Air-condition? It was October. What was she talking about?
Mildred gave Mama D a quizzical look. “Why yes…I understand.”
“Good. Now.” Mama D clasped her hands in front of her. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here with us tonight?”
“Yes, I will.” Mildred seemed to regain a bit of her composure. “The mayor allowed me to come so I could monitor the situation at the Delaney House and make sure no devil stuff was happening up there. We have to maintain a pure and pristine reputation if we’re going to be on television.”
The Cat Jumped Over the Moon Page 3
