Lifestyles of the Witch & Famous

by Riser, Mimi

  “I didn’t expect to find you here,” he sputtered.

  “Obviously.” She threw him a glare sharper than her daggers. “Tyler, you are an idiot.”

  Um, yeah, he was beginning to realize that. With the realization came a horrible sick feeling – sick, cold, leaden – a weighty mental chaos that anchored him in place. Something was wrong with this picture. Very wrong.

  André said something lethal sounding in what might have been Lithuanian. Who knew? He stood glowering and dripping blood from a hand wound. One of the dogs had bitten him when he’d tried to throw himself between them and Carlotta.

  “They must have thought you were threatening me,” she fussed at him, apparently answering whatever he’d just said. “André, why didn’t you stay with Molly?”

  “And leave you to face bloodthirsty beasts alone? Never!”

  “But I told you these dogs know me. They can be dangerous, yes, but not to me.”

  “How could I be sure of that?” he blustered.

  “Look at you!” She whipped off her scarf and wrapped it around his wound. “You almost lost a hand, and you could have lost your life!”

  “My life? Pah!” He spat on the ground. “What is my life worth without you? Carlotta cherie, you are my life!”

  Wow, the guy had it bad. Even Tyler was impressed.

  So was Carlotta, and she was hard to impress, too.

  “Oh, André…” She blinked back sudden tears. “What am I to do with you?”

  “Marry me?” he suggested. “You know I have never asked anyone before. You know that I adore you. Only you. And I warn you, Carlotta, I am not going to stop. We D’Leons burn hot, but we burn a long time. Always will my heart be yours.” He pressed a hand over the organ in question – his wounded hand, a bloody reminder. He was playing the injury for all it was worth.

  “Be my wife, cherie, and let me love you forever!”

  Carlotta swayed slightly, looking dizzy, almost ready to swoon.

  André grinned. He’d found her weak spot, and knew it. The seemingly jaded Carlotta was, at her core, a hopeless romantic – it’s just that over the years the emphasis had shifted to the hopeless part. Faced with such an open declaration now, what could she say?

  “Ai dios mio…”

  Not exactly a yes, but definitely not a no.

  Half sobbing, half laughing, she fell into his arms. André winked at Tyler over her shoulder.

  “You see, Monsieur James, that is how to win a woman. Tell her you love her, and prove it by being willing to die for her.”

  With continental flair, he kissed Carlotta until her knees buckled. But Tyler was long gone by then, bolting through the bramble on a beeline for the dugout, leaving dogs, guards, and multilingual lovers in the dust – signaling them all to stay behind, and they’d damn well better obey. There’d been too much noise and confusion already. Too dangerous. The godawful reality had finally hit home.

  “André, why didn’t you stay with Molly?” Carlotta had demanded.

  Of course. The simple fact she and André were out here at all must mean they’d been trying to help Molly. But Carlotta would never be part of a kidnapping con game – Tyler had known her too long and too well to think that. She could’ve given Molly the combination to his safe though, and showed her the route to the dugout. Which meant Molly wasn’t part of the game either. She could have learned about it from reading the fax, he supposed; he’d hidden it fast, but not that fast.

  Put it all together and it meant he’d been wrong, wrong, wrong. Again. There was no “game,” period. He had a real kidnapping on his hands. Maybe two… Molly hadn’t stolen the diamonds for herself. She was trying to pay the goddamned ransom! Trying to get herself kidnapped.

  Or worse.

  Shit!

  He sped forward, racing time, determined to do whatever it took to save her. Anything. André wasn’t the only man willing to die for the woman he loved, goddamn it.

  Love?

  Did he?

  The inner question skidded him up short before the line of mesquites. Tyler hadn’t known much love in his life. How could he be sure what it felt like?

  Hell, he knew loss well enough – knew now that just the thought of losing Molly filled him with icy dread.

  Quickly but cautiously – quietly – he picked his way through the trees and hunkered down at the ragged edge of the gully, staring across it and down a slope at a long low mound on the opposite bank. A drunken rectangle of roughhewn boards capped by a crumbling sod roof. The silent dugout. Too silent. From his higher vantage point, he could see and scrutinize the entire squat dwelling and all around it.

  While he crouched motionless, in growing anxiety – scouting the area with eyes and ears, watching and listening for any signs of life – a soft moan filtered up from the bottom of the gully. Tyler glanced downward and felt his blood freeze.

  Molly?

  He leapt the six-foot drop to her side and was hovering over her, on the verge of a heart attack, when her eyes fluttered open. She couldn’t have been out very long – mere minutes, he estimated. Tyler wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

  She blinked.

  Then frowned, regaining her wits fast, it seemed.

  She recognized him.

  He wasn’t sure if that was good or not either. She didn’t look happy to see him.

  “Molly, what the hell happened? Are you hurt?”

  He also wanted to ask “Where’s Stevie?” but couldn’t bring himself to put that particular fear into words yet. He had sinister visions of the kidnappers taking off with the boy – after having knocked Molly out and throwing her into the gully.

  “Shh! Do you want them to hear you?” She climbed to her feet, waving him off when he tried to help, speaking quickly in a hoarse whisper, suddenly all grim determined business. “I’m fine. I fell. I bumped my head. But not bad. I’ve taken worse hits on the mats.”

  The Karate mats, he assumed. Tyler hated to tell her that there didn’t appear to be any “them,” that the dugout looked dismally deserted, not a hint of movement from within or anywhere nearby. The angst in her eyes mirrored his own. It occurred to him that the kidnappers could have found her unconscious, riffled her pockets, and then taken off with Stevie and the loot both.

  “You shouldn’t be here!” she hissed. “Just stay back and stay quiet, for godssake. Please let me do this. I can handle—”

  “Do you still have the diamonds?” he interrupted.

  “Yes.” She patted her pocket as though to make sure. Her eyes narrowed in warning. “And if you try to take them or stop me, I’ll lay you out cold.”

  He believed her. But that wasn’t the point. If she still had the ransom, where were the ones who’d demanded it? Where was the boy? All sorts of scenarios played through his mind. None of them nice. What if the creeps had heard the dogs before, gotten scared and hightailed it out – making sure not to leave any living witnesses behind? Desperate people did desperate things. Tyler knew. He was pretty damned desperate himself right then.

  “Molly…” He had to tell her. “I, um…I don’t think there’s anyone here but us.” No one alive at least. “I scouted the area just before I found you. It looks empty.”

  Her brow furrowed. She was a fast thinker; she caught his drift. He could smell the fresh fear in her, but she kept her voice steady.

  “Did you actually look in the dugout?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then you can’t be sure!”

  Shit.

  Before he could catch her, she’d scrambled up and out of the gully and made it to the dugout’s caved-in door. Tyler reached it two steps behind her, his heart in his mouth and hands poised to pull her back. If there was a…body in there, he did not want her to see it.

  “Tyler, look!”

  The words came out on a choked breath. Her shoulders started shaking with sobs.

  His heart stopped.

  Broke.

  Cracked into a thousand wretched
pieces.

  Dear God… Stevie…

  “He’s all right!”

  He was?

  Tyler sure wasn’t. He was trembling and drenched with cold sweat, his eyes squeezed shut against a salty flood. He had to pry them open to peer over Molly’s head down into the dugout’s single room.

  There were, in fact, three bodies inside, curled together on the earthen floor. One softly panting, one purring, and the middle one sleeping like an angel, haloed by moonlight that spilled in through big holes in the roof.

  Fluffy, Fang, and Stevie – not a mark on him except for a little dirt.

  “Told ya,” Molly said. And suddenly she was in Tyler’s arms, laughing and crying and hugging him hard – and he was laughing and crying, too, and didn’t give a damn that he was.

  A beautiful moment. Beautiful blessed relief. No time to figure out how it had happened, why the kid was here without a kidnapper in sight. Who cared why? He was safe!

  Also groggily disgruntled, pulling to a sitting position and glaring at them. Their joyful noise had woken him.

  “Fuck,” he cursed.

  Molly winced. “Blame Admiral Byrd. He curses like a trooper, and the boys have been picking it up from him. But they usually only do it when they’re trying to be funny.”

  Except Stevie didn’t look like he was joking. He looked fuming mad. Well, hell, it was way past his bedtime, and God only knew what he’d been through tonight. He must be tired and wired, and probably disoriented from waking in a strange place. He was only ten. Cut the kid some slack.

  Tyler climbed down into the room with Molly close on his heels. She’d tried to climb in first, but he’d deftly pushed her behind – just in case there was a nasty surprise hiding in the corner shadows. Like an oddly missing kidnapper who maybe wasn’t missing after all? Now that the first rush of his relief had calmed, Tyler was starting to wonder about that. Frankly this scene didn’t make the least bit of sense. He scanned the room, searching for clues, while Molly scanned Stevie at close quarters, kneeling beside him, stroking tousled hair off his brow, making sure he was really okay. When certain, she wrapped him in a warm tight hug.

  “My poor baby—”

  “I’m not a baby.” He squirmed out of her hold. “You were supposed to come alone. Didn’t you read the ransom note? You’ve ruined everything! It’ll never work now.”

  Molly stiffened, staring at him, then flashed a look at Tyler over her shoulder. “I smell a rat.”

  “No you don’t,” Stevie grumbled. “There were some rats when we got here, but Fang chased them out because they were scaring Fluffy.”

  “Uh-huh.” Slowly, Molly stood up and planted hands on her hips.

  Stevie seemed to recognize something dangerous in her expression – might have realized he’d said too much. His own expression went wary, defensive, his mouth pressed into a stubborn line. He began inching away from her, scooting backward on heels and rump. Molly caught him by the upper arms and hauled him to his feet.

  “Steven Tyler James” – she gave him a little shake – “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

  Stevie flinched at her tone.

  Tyler flinched at the name. “Steven Tyler?”

  Molly heaved an aggravated sigh. She clearly thought this was way off topic. “Yes. Kara, his mother, wanted to name him after his father, but Steve wanted to name him Tyler – he never said why. They compromised by using both.”

  “And I’ve never liked it,” Stevie spouted. “Tyler is a stupid name.”

  “You hush.” Molly gave him another little shake. “You’re in enough hot water already, young man. Do you have any idea of the trouble you’ve caused? You scared us all half to death! The whole house is in an uproar because of you! You could’ve gotten yourself lost or killed wandering around out here alone at night.”

  “I wasn’t alone,” he said sullenly. “Fluffy and Fang came with me.”

  “Grrr… Goddess, give me strength.” Molly closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, obviously fighting for control.

  Stevie’s lips quivered. He was fighting, too.

  Tyler didn’t know whether to laugh or cry again. He understood Molly’s position, but he was starting to see Stevie’s as well, starting to put the pieces together. His heart ached for the boy. He couldn’t help it. Tyler had been through hell this night and come out the other side. He’d learned a lot – including the bittersweet fact that his brother had named his first child after him. The knowledge felt like a form of forgiveness coming from beyond the grave – Steve’s way of saying, “We had our differences, Ty, but I never stopped loving you.”

  Thank you, little brother.

  Tyler wanted to spread the forgiveness around – spread the love – wanted to buffer Molly’s motherly wrath. It wasn’t fair for Stevie to bear the brunt of it. He touched her shoulder, speaking softly. “Hey, ease up. He’s just a kid. He didn’t—”

  She whirled on him. “You do realize he kidnapped himself, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but not without help.” Tyler turned to Stevie. “Did a tall woman named Bambi help you? It was her room you sent the fax from.”

  “It was? I didn’t know that. It was empty when I used it, and I was only there a few minutes.”

  Tyler wasn’t entirely convinced. “But why did you pick that room in particular?”

  “Because it was empty. All the other rooms I checked had people in them.”

  Okay, okay, so Bambi wasn’t the culprit. But someone was.

  “Who told you about the diamonds and this dugout?” Tyler asked gently.

  Stevie studied his toes. “Barry. He told us all about the Ranch while you were with Aunt Molly this afternoon. I think he was trying to make it sound exciting so we’d like it better.”

  Good old Barry, always so helpful.

  Tyler gave Molly an anemic smile. “I’m sure he meant well. How could he have guessed how that info would be used?”

  A rhetorical question, of course.

  Molly dismissed it with an impatient nod.

  “I’m not blaming Barry.” She glared at Stevie. “Just what did you think you were doing? You must have known I’d be angry when I discovered the truth.”

  “Yeah. But I figured you’d get over it soon enough.” The boy shuffled his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  Tyler knew that pose. Like uncle, like nephew – in more ways than one.

  “It was for your own good!” Stevie shouted at Molly, suddenly rousing out of his torpor. “I did it for you! And Jeremy and Josh. All of us. I thought you wanted to get away from here – get away from him.” He slanted a sharp glance at Tyler. “I wasn’t going to keep the diamonds. I was just going to hide them, and then promise to give them back after he promised to let us all go home.”

  He swallowed, hard, battling back tears. He was a smart boy – and brave to grab a billionaire bull by the horns – but still a boy. To him a million in jewels had probably sounded like a fabulous treasure. He couldn’t have realized that to Tyler it was petty cash. Stevie had thought he was hitting the villain where it would hurt the most – in the wallet. He’d just been trying to protect his family from the “evil uncle.”

  Desperate people did desperate things.

  Molly stared at the kid, her own eyes moist. It seemed she didn’t know what to say. She looked at Tyler, as though looking for help.

  Help? From him?

  His heart warmed at the thought. They had, apparently, reached a new level of understanding. A place called Trust? Would that be hoping for too much too soon?

  Tyler didn’t think so. The ecstatic relief they’d shared at finding Stevie safe and unhurt had broken the barriers between them. In that blessed instant, he’d felt the walls toppling and sensed that Molly had felt it, too. Hell, he’d recognized early how much she loved his nephews, and now it appeared she’d finally recognized the same thing in him. Whatever the differences in their lifestyles, their love of the kids gave them common ground to stand on – bu
ild on – and they both knew it.

  Her eyes held his and looked deep. He felt her gaze clear down in the roots of his soul.

  “I’ve got you pegged now, mister,” that look told him, “you roar like a lion, but inside you’re just a big purry pussycat.”

  Witchy woman, casting a spell, reading his secret self. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was magically speaking directly into his mind. Could Wiccans do things like that? Molly could, it seemed. Or maybe he and she were just that simpatico. Only time would tell. They had plenty of time, he realized.

  Her brows quirked up a fraction, and she said in a whisper, “So…where do we go from here?”

  She didn’t know?

  Tyler did. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.

  “Disney World.”

  “What?” Stevie’s eyes popped.

  Molly’s narrowed. “It was a serious question.”

  “And I gave you a serious answer. Disney World,” he repeated.

  What better place to court a witch than the Magic Kingdom?

  “Stevie…” He knelt before him on one knee, bringing them close to eyelevel; he didn’t want his height to intimidate the kid. “You did a dangerous and foolish thing, but I hope you’ve learned a lesson from it.” Tyler sure had. “It is very wrong to try to force someone into doing what you want them to.”

  “You did. You forced us to come here,” Stevie said, meeting Tyler’s gaze man to man. The kid had balls.

  Tyler suppressed a smile. “Yes, I did, and that was wrong of me. That’s why I can’t be angry with you now. Because I understand why you did this, and I know I’m the one who made you feel it was your only option. I’m very sorry about that.”

  Stevie’s jaw dropped. A quiet “Wow” was all he could say.

  “Ditto,” Molly murmured.

  Tyler unleashed his smile. “What I’m thinking, Stevie, is that we all need time to get to know each other better. We can start by taking a trip to Disney World together. You, me, Jeremy and Josh—”

  “And Aunt Molly?”