Mia actually batted her eyes at the idiotic muse. “That sounds wonderful.”
Chance agreed easily. As did everyone else.
I tugged away from Chance and caught the muse as we all trooped out a set of glass doors that led onto a terrace lit with Christmas lights. “Do you have everyone under some sort of spell except for me? Why are they agreeing to whatever dumb idea you come up with?”
“I am a muse, the spirit of inspiration. I inspired them to want to see the vines. It is a beautiful clear night, and the stars are hanging like diamonds in a velvet sky. Why not see the vines?”
He smiled at me, and his teeth shone white in the darkness. I narrowed my eyes at him. “The vines are skeletons and the ground is buried under a foot or more of snow. The sky is a barren darkness that holds no warmth. We are walking into a living icebox, in dress clothes that provide no protection. You have convinced us to trot around in the middle of the night…and you maintain this is an idea everyone would agree to on a logical level?”
“Ah, but I am inspiration. You never know what you will see if you go for a walk in the darkness. Besides, cool night air clears the mind.” Something about his look made me think he tried to inspire me.
It didn’t work. With his butch haircut and his broad shoulders, he looked normal. I wondered if all muses were insane or just Mia’s. I lagged behind the group. If I hadn’t, maybe I wouldn’t have seen the flash of red.
My first response was annoyance because I have seen a lot of that particular red lately. I grimaced in the darkness and plunged down a path that hadn’t been shoveled. Away from the group. Toward the red. I was like a damn bull. Flash a bit of red and off goes Janie. Cold and juiced up while Julia was the goal in the darkness. Of course she was. She would have to be there. She must have a bug planted up Vance’s ass so she could follow him and torment me the one night I thought I actually had him to myself.
But he was hers now, I reminded myself. And I was okay with that. Really.
Su-u-ure I was.
I stopped dead when I got close enough to see what Julia held. The fact that we weren’t in the Harbor, crossed my mind first. Just out of it, actually in Geneva, and so this could not be happening.
But every time I think something cannot happen, it usually does. My mind had not caught up with reality.
Julia knelt in the snow. She wore some pastel peach dress and over it she had been smarter than me and wore an ivory trench coat. She would not be wearing either again. That blood would never come out.
Julia’s long red hair stuck out like a flame against the backdrop of snow and vines, like a picture painted against the night. It wasn’t a picture a sane mind would paint, however.
She held a hammer in her hands, albeit gingerly. She dropped the hammer when her gaze met mine, hers wide and wild. Her hands had blood on them, which she wiped on her coat and dress.
“Janie, help. He needs help. Something very bad is happening. I came out…he said he needed some air. Oh, help.” A lone tear ran down her lovely face and her shoulders shook with sobs. She staggered in the snow with her hands out. Lady Macbeth.
I backed up a step.
Like tendrils of blood, her hair had come down in places, and hung around her pale face in long lank tendrils of crimson in the night. The wind whipped a lock across her face, and she pushed it back with a bloody hand. A streak of red marred one pale cheek. Blood, where she had knelt in the snow, soaked her coat and dress.
I had no clue whatsoever what to think or how to help. Had I found the Harbor Hammer?
Hands closed over my elbows and I swallowed a shriek.
Shh, it’s me.
I turned into his arms and he closed them around me. “Did she do it?”
“Told you it was a good time for a walk.” Frank’s voice filled the cold, quiet night.
I suspected the body was beyond help. He lay sprawled and broken like the pictures I had seen. I wondered how Julia had done it. She did not seem strong enough to heft the hammer in a way that would cause that kind of damage in a blow. But then again she’s a witch, and if a ghost inhabited her…what did I know of that kind of thing? And what made me think I could get it out of her?
Mia went to Julia. I was glad because there was no way I was going to touch Lady Macbeth. Cold and angry and frustrated, I drew the line at comforting the suspect. “Can I sing it out?” I knew Chance could hear me if I had used our connection, but I spoke out loud for the humanity of the sound of my voice in the darkness with the smell of blood on the air.
Vance touched my back and I turned to him. “Whatever did this is no longer here.”
I nodded. Julia seemed scared and confused. If the Harbor Hammer had visited Geneva tonight and had been in her, well, it had fled. Whatever action had to be taken would be ineffective tonight. Sven peered at the body and held a pink hankie to his mouth when I glanced his way.
Reaching out one hand, I touched Vance. I hoped the gesture seemed friendly. Mostly it was. Partly, I wanted an excuse to touch him. “Are you okay?” The smell of blood and a vampire probably made a bad combination.
His blue eyes met mine for the first time. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for thinking to ask.” He took my hand from his arm and squeezed it.
I walked out of the protective circle of Chance’s arms and moved to escort Vance back toward the Winery. I called back that he and I were headed inside and added a brief explanation mentally to Chance that Vance should not be near the body for long, blood and all.
He nodded. I’ll take care of it. He did not seem happy, but he didn’t argue.
Perhaps our interdependence upped his confidence in me. The fact that I no longer attempted to shut him out probably helped as well. Even though he would be outside, we wouldn’t part. Hard to worry about the competition if you could watch every moment of the action. I almost felt Chance smile at that thought.
I walked alongside the vampire in silence and wished desperately I could read his mind as easily as I could Chance’s. I wondered if he was wishing something similar.
“Janie, I’ve been thinking.”
We were almost to the doors when he paused, and I wished desperately for a coat. I stopped and studied him. He had the appearance of a Brit rock star. His hair blew in the cold air and each strand seemed so light that it hung on the air like an individual strand of night. A ruffle from his shirt caught the wind, a white so crisp it put the snow to shame. His eyes glowed, and I wished…well, it was stupid what I wished, so I stood and stuffed my hands in the pockets of my dress pants and wished I was more ladylike.
“I want you to know I understand what happened with Chance. He’s right. He’s what is best for you. I am not seeing Julia. I love you. So I want you to know I am your friend, and I’ll be here for you, stand by you, no matter what.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. “Wait.” I found my voice. “You are breaking up with me because Chance said to. But you aren’t dating Julia. Right?”
He nodded and continued to stare at me.
I waited and when he did not answer the entire question, added, “Because Chance said to?”
“No. Well, not because he said to. Because he’s right. He can help you. I can’t, not like he can. I don’t want to see you hurt. I want to be your friend. It isn’t you, it’s me.”
And that line, the worst cliché in all of human history, tossed into the break-up speech put sort of a different spin on things. A guy as old as Vance, well, he had to know that’s the oldest line in history. Was he breaking up with me for the noble reasons listed or had he finally realized, as I had long ago, that Plain Jane was not on the same level as a Rock Star Vampire?
My insecurities, due to the divorce and the lovely Buffy, or Muffy or whatever the hell her name was, were confirmed. There was a chance his actions had been compelled by the siren stuff. It was more likely he stepped aside due to getting bored and having a good opening to walk. I leaned toward the latter. Stiffening my spine was one of the things I excelled at. I smile
d one of my more fake smiles. “I would love that. You’re a wonderful friend. I would treasure that.”
As Vance could not read my mind anymore without the risk of getting shot down like an errant moth, he smiled and reached for my hand.
I ignored the gesture and walked away from him alone. I reentered the ballroom with a chip on my shoulder, ready to kick some fairy ass. I had an engagement to break and a point to prove. I turned to the first goblin I met and shoved him into a table.
He came up swinging.
I ducked out of the way as the fight started. He had not seen who pushed him. Juiced up on Chance power, I ducked rather fast. I stood nearly across the room when the chaos ensued. I then found my fiancé.
Avery held court, so to speak, in a group of fairy women. One, my cousin Kierra, had been in line for the throne before my mother had come up with the idea of tossing me into the fire. She gazed up at Avery in a way that suggested adoration. And, yes, she actually had to look up.
Hmm, interesting. Perhaps she had liked him before my mother had reinstated our engagement. I could play fairy matchmaker. Or at the very least, I could cause more chaos.
Chaos I could create in my sleep. I seemed to be the Queen of Chaos. And if I wanted to get out of being Queen of Fairy, I would need to kick that ability into high gear and remind all of fairy of that tonight. I sidled up to my darling, short fiancé and tugged him to my side.
His colorful eyes met mine. “Princess?”
“Yeah, Mufasa, it’s me. Miss me?”
“Weren’t you with your vampire?”
I glared at him. For one, not my vampire. For two, I wasn’t explaining myself to a midget. “How about a dance, short stuff?” I spun my unresisting piece of perfect fairy male onto the dance floor. Avery, as he had from the very beginning, seemed unable to resist me. His eyes locked on mine. I thought of what had happened before I left and asked Chance a question in my head.
Before, when we left, what was with everyone when I spoke? Mia said every time I talked people swarmed me?
You hadn’t fed. The cold and the night surround him when he spoke, but I could tell he was coming closer to me. The ballroom encircled me, but at the same time, the night caressed my skin. Not altogether a pleasant sensation. Still, he needed to get to the point so I could go back to a more normal, distant connection.
Your voice called to them. You may not have sang, but your body called for what you needed, which is why I went to such extreme measures to get you out of there.
Can I do it and control it?
The odd silence from his end offered only blankness as he weighed his answer and kept me from his inner thoughts on the matter. Finally, he came back. Wait for me. I think we can do it without any major repercussions and cause the mess you want.
In less than a second, a warm ripple caressed my skin, and I saw him across the room by the glass wall of windows that led outside. He had popped in and adjusted his shirt as I watched. He nodded to me and walked in the other direction. Try it. I have your back.
Paranormal backup. Nice. When I think of the place where I hold my powers, usually a fist opens, but I needed something more subtle. I imagined it as a perfume. Perfume dumped directly from the bottle reeks, but in an atomizer, it becomes a gentle, controllable mist. I let the power drift in a gentle haze through a controlled flow and let my voice float through the mist.
“It sure has been cold this week.” No one in their right mind would find such a nothing sentence provocative. The room full of people reacted as if I had shouted, “Would anyone like this money I am giving away?”
Everyone stopped dead. The band came to a screeching halt.
Chance cleared his throat. Maybe a little less.
Silent laughter rumbled in his thoughts and I bit my lip. I tried again. “I think that the Steelers are always going to take the Browns. I mean, really, how can anyone bother to be a Browns fan anymore?”
People moved again, some appearing confused. But about half the room moved toward me. Shoving each other. Brutal movements. A fight broke out. My mother, on the other end of the room, tried to do damage control with her second in command, McNair, at her side.
She darted a glance at me.
Avery pushed people away from me. However, Avery wasn’t strong enough to stay at my side.
A few other nonsensical statements seemed in order. “I think this place is simply beautiful.”
More mob.
“Do you like the chardonnay or the merlot?”
Sheer chaos.
Chance came to my side when Avery landed beneath a heap. “Wasn’t terribly sporting of you to get him beat up.”
“Got to get this engagement broken.”
My mother broke up the fight.
McNair came to glare at me. He and my mother stood in front of me as a unit. I leaned on Chance nonchalantly. I blinked at them hoping my expression looked innocent. “I haven’t done a thing.”
“Perhaps a fairy engagement is not the best idea considering your siren nature.” My mother looked grim as she conceded to my point.
Avery sported a split lip.
I suppressed a grin. I had ruined her party.
“Unless we engage her to a redcap or a goblin? Maybe a hob.” McNair touched my mother’s arm and looked at her hopefully.
I glared him down, and he shut up. My mother waved a hand at him, either to discard the idea, or to discard it in my presence. Either way, I had won for the moment.
“So you rescind the engagement?”
“You fulfilled your end.” Her dainty jaw clenched with tension. “You nearly broke him too many times in only one week, however, for it to be a wise selection.”
Chance took my hand.
I pushed her for undisputable clarification. “So we can leave and you will stop with the kidnap attempts?”
She waved a hand in a gesture that encompassed the ballroom. Broken glass, spilled wine and rose petals littered the floor. I think she saw dollar signs.
I spun against Chance and he popped us home before she could change her mind. Once there, he kissed me goodnight, for once without a lengthy debate. He could sense the distracting nature of the things on my mind.
The conversation with Vance weighed on me. My mood turned dark and even all my Christmas decorations could not lighten it. I put on the Van Morrison CD that Vance had made me and got the book with the human flesh cover he had given me. It was a book of Sirens from some old vampire library. I ran a hand across the cover and could not believe I was sentimental over a skin bound book. But he had given me it.
I flipped through the book and tried not to cry.
When I found the passage about the Hammer, I snapped up in my seat. I curled my legs under me and stroked the page. It was a ghost. I read the passage on the yellowed page and thought to myself that I had the answer, had it this whole time and that Vance had given it to me. I read from the book.
Old Harold’s Ghost
Lady Fair, Lady Fair,
Skin so fair you could see each vein;
This was definitely written by vampires.
By her came a pale, pale ghost,
Who took her thoughts and made her insane.
‘Are ye my brother or my son?’ says she,
‘Or are ye my friend that’s gone?’
Or are you my true-love, Old Harold,
From the grave newly come?
‘No, no, nor your friend nor will I be one;
But I’m your true love, Old Harold,
From the very grave I have now come.’
After the lyrical old rhyme, the author told of the history of leap year, which apparently started way back with Julius Caesar. Caesar added the day to make up for an oops in the number of days in the calendar.
Then, in 1582, Pope Greg the 13th, maker of the Gregorian calendar, realized they were still off by about ten days. So he said the leap would only happen in years divisible by the number four. The people around in those days did not like being robbed of
fifteen days of their lives. Arising from that era and stretching to today, superstition about this change has abounded.
For example, the one that had caused the story of Old Harold. Old Harold was poor and sounded quite mad…er, nuts. The superstition claimed that on leap year, a lady may propose marriage and if the gentleman declined, he would be cursed with bad luck if he should turn her down.
I smiled. Who would believe something that stupid?
Apparently Harold did. According to the book, February twenty-ninth is strange and odd, an anomaly, like Christmas and Halloween. Normal rules do not apply on that day. No one should get married on that day. But since Harold had declined his lover’s offer of marriage, he had been cursed with bad luck.
How had he known that, exactly?
When he realized what had happened, he had asked for her hand to try to break the curse, but he was too poor to wed. He began to save the money to marry her but one day, on the dock in Ashtabula, a hammer fell in a stroke of bad luck and killed him. Ever since then, each leap year he had come back to try to break the curse and get enough money to marry his lover and win back his luck.
I stared at the book.
Harold had conked people on the head to get money for his girlfriend. To go by the book, the vamps had known about him for…well, the book wasn’t big on dating things. Apparently, for the vampire author, who had an unlimited lifespan, dates were not terribly important. But I had identified my ghost. I still had to figure out who he was hanging out in. And I thought I had an idea on how to get him out. I figured I would try to sing him out. If Old Mother thought me up to the task, as a siren, well, that’s the only skill that set me apart from everyone else. So singing must be the key.
That decided, I felt unreasonably better about all of it. Sure, Vance had dumped me, but, in dumping me, he had helped me save the day. I felt like Sculley and Wonder Woman or Superman again.
Maybe tomorrow I would get lucky and be the hero rather than mess things up.
CHAPTER Sixteen
I woke with a refreshed outlook, ready to go. The day marked the beginning of the rest of my life. I stretched. I jumped in the shower and then went in search of coffee. I would find the bad guy and solve the murders. Not only that, I would free Harold, the secret bad guy in the bad guy. If I were in the Mystery Machine, I would know who wore the mask. It promised to be an easy day.
Odd Melody (Odd Series Book 2) Page 21
