Sin cleared his throat. “Jayne is the Winter Princess, heir to the Winter Throne, and while I realize this is still Nocturne Falls, for all intents and purposes, this park has become the North Pole. The yetis are from the North Pole, the woman they’re holding hostage is from the North Pole, and frankly, Jayne’s the only one who’s ever had any dealings with these creatures before. Her asking for the sheriff’s permission to check on one of her citizens seems a little unnecessary to me.”
Deputy Cruz frowned, but dropped his hand. “Be quick.”
“I will be.” I smiled at Sin, hopefully expressing my gratitude with my eyes. “I’ll just be a minute.”
He crossed his arms and leaned on one of the saw horses marking off the perimeter. “I’ll be right here.”
I dashed through the snow, which had gotten thick again since no one had been on the path much lately. I stopped a few yards from the ice wall. I could just see over the top of it. “Buttercup,” I hissed.
There was no immediate response, but I did my best to be patient. Standing there, yelling for her might not go over so well with the yetis.
I waited about thirty seconds, then did my loud whisper again. “Buttercup!”
More seconds ticked by with no sign of her. I didn’t like that at all. I was about to use my normal speaking voice when she appeared at the top of the wall.
She looked…different. The tiara I’d put on her head was gone, replaced by a towering crown of ice shards far more regal—and intimidating—than my delicate diamond snowflakes. She had a scepter of ice in her hand. It reminded me a little of my father’s scepter. Of course, his could wield winter magic. This one I wasn’t so sure about.
Lastly, my court gown was hidden under a robe of white fur. Real or not, I couldn’t tell, but I was a little afraid to spend too much time thinking about where the yetis had come up with that.
I waved. She didn’t wave back, just stared impassively at me. That didn’t seem like a good sign. “Buttercup, are you okay?”
“I am Queen of the Yeti. The Chosen One.” Buttercup tended to be rather monotone at times, but her speaking voice now made her sound programmed.
“That’s great, I guess, but how are you—”
“Ruler of the Ice Palace. Defender of the Defenseless.”
I rolled my eyes. “The yetis aren’t exactly what I’d call defenseless—”
She tapped her scepter on the ice to interrupt me. “She Who Will Be Sacrificed.”
My heart went still. “Buttercup, don’t say that.”
Without another word, she turned and walked out of sight.
“Buttercup? Come back. Buttercup!”
And just like that, it stopped snowing.
I ran back to Sin and Deputy Cruz, slipping and sliding but refusing to slow down until I reached them.
Cruz greeted me with a smile. “Hey, nice job, whatever you did. It stopped snowing.”
“That’s not good news.” I grabbed Sin’s arm. “We’re running out of time. Buttercup’s been assimilated.”
“Assimilated? You mean like the Borg?”
His Star Trek reference wasn’t completely lost on me, even though I wasn’t a Trekkie or anything. “Close enough. At least I’m starting to think so. They’ve brainwashed her into believing that she is their queen. Worse than that, she seems to have accepted that she’s supposed to be sacrificed.”
Sin recoiled. “What? That’s terrible. But why is the snow stopping not good news?”
“I think it means they’re done building their fortress or turning Nocturne Falls into the North Pole or something like that. What it means exactly, I’m not sure, but it feels to me like they stopped the snow because they’re ready for the next phase of things.”
“Which is sacrificing Buttercup.”
“Right.”
Cruz grabbed the radio on his shoulder. “Sheriff, you’d better get over here.”
I shook my head at him. “I don’t have time to stay here and explain. You heard what I said, just repeat that to him.”
“Will do.”
“Sin.” I squeezed his arm as I pulled him toward the car. “I didn’t want to do this. But I think we need to talk to Myra.”
He nodded. “I agree. Is she at the morgue?”
“I’m not sure. Birdie would know.” I dug out my phone and called her. She answered right away.
“I don’t have anything new to tell you yet, Princess, sorry.”
“That’s okay. We’re going to take a different route. Where is, uh, Myra’s body?”
Birdie sucked in a sharp breath. “Sin’s going to do his thing, isn’t he?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“She’s still in the morgue. Because of the weather, the funeral plans were put on hold. And it seemed silly to move her to the undertakers with the roads the way they are. Plus, her great-nephew hasn’t been able to get into town because of the storm either.”
“Makes sense to keep her at the morgue, then. Where is that?” I felt like I should have known, but the morgue wasn’t a place I’d even thought about visiting.
“The morgue is in the hospital basement. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes or so. Not sure actually, because of the roads, but I’ll leave immediately.”
I should have counted on her wanting to come. “Birdie, I appreciate that, but I don’t think Sin wants an audience for this.”
“And I appreciate that, but how else do you think you’re going to get into the morgue? I have clearance.”
“Oh. Right. Good point. Hang on.” I put the phone on my shoulder. “Birdie needs to be with us to get us into the morgue. Are you okay with her being there?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “Might be good to have another set of ears, too, you know?”
“Okay.” I went back to Birdie. “Twenty minutes. Or however long it takes.”
It took twenty-seven. The snow might have stopped coming down, but the plows were behind. It wasn’t until we got closer to the hospital that the streets were better cleared. Made sense. The hospital was a priority.
It was bright, too, so they obviously had plenty of electricity. Everything seemed to be in working order, including the elevators. I made a mental note to tell my dad to look into the hospital’s brand of generators.
Birdie was already in the lobby when we got there. “Ready?”
I looked at Sin. This was his deal. He nodded, the look in his eyes a mix of determination and resignation.
I slipped my hand in his. “I owe you.”
He smiled, but it was tight and restrained. “No, you don’t. I’m doing this for everyone.”
“Then the town owes you.”
“She’s right,” Birdie said. “This is a great thing you’re doing.”
“If we get the right answers,” he said.
Birdie fished something from her purse. A slim black wallet. She flipped it open, revealing a town ID. “We will. Because we’re going to ask the right questions. Come on, let’s get down there.”
She showed her ID at the front desk. We all signed in, then followed Birdie to the elevators. Except the one we took was down a separate hall by itself. The interior was enormous. Big enough, I realized, to hold a gurney with a body on it. After that lightbulb moment, I stood slightly away from the wall so I didn’t touch anything. Birdie slid her ID through a card reader, then tapped the button for the basement.
We stepped off into a small lobby that split into two directions. One had a sign saying Pathology, the other Employees Only.
We headed down the Employees Only side.
I looked back at the signs. “Um, shouldn’t we be going toward Pathology?”
“Nope,” Birdie said. “That’s the human morgue. We need the supernatural one.”
“Oh. You learn something new every day.” Two morgues in one basement? A little involuntary shiver went through me.
Have I mentioned how I don’t like basements? This one was well lit, and painted in a soothing green with white tile floor
s that made your shoes squeak. But the antiseptic smell did nothing to hide what I imagined was the aroma of dead people, and the farther down the hall we walked, the more that soothing green seemed the same color as swamp water. Or mold. As basements went, it wasn’t my favorite.
Or maybe the destination was influencing my thoughts.
Thankfully, there were no more hospital personnel to see. Until we got to a door labeled Unit Nine. Apparently, that’s what they called the supernatural morgue to keep from labeling it anything more obvious.
Birdie pushed open the door and approached the desk just inside. Sin and I followed dutifully. The air here had an undercurrent of something sickly sweet that no antiseptic could overcome.
A young woman looked up from a laptop and greeted us. If my guess was right, she was a vampire, which made morgue attendant seem like a pretty on-the-nose job for her, but then, this was the supernatural side of things. She wore a lab coat over a black-and-white polka dot dress and had a daisy barrette holding back her brunette waves on one side. With her cat-eye makeup and crimson lips, she reminded me of the pinup girl tattooed on Arty’s arm. She smiled. “Hi, Birdie.”
“Hi, Druzy. We need to see Myra Grimshaw.” Birdie straighten as if she’d suddenly remembered why she was there. “Official business.”
“Sure.” Druzy got up. She was a curvy girl and exceptionally beautiful, which wasn’t that surprising for a vampire. Her smile widened, giving us a peek at her fangs. “Right this way.”
Her shiny red heels click-clacked on the tile as she led us into a large room with lockers on either side. I knew what they were. Body storage.
She opened number three, which made me wonder if one and two were already occupied. I erased that thought. I didn’t want to know.
Druzy pulled the shelf out.
And there was Myra. In a body bag, but the label clearly had her name written on it.
My light-headedness was coming back.
Druzy nodded at Birdie. “I’ll leave you to it. Holler if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
When Druzy had left, Birdie unzipped the bag, proving it was Myra, and then turned to us. “Do we know what questions—Princess, you okay?”
I yanked my gaze off the body bag. “What? I’m fine. This is just weird. Super super weird.”
Sin put his arm around me. “Pretend she’s sleeping.”
Hard to do when Myra was the color of paste. I nodded. “Right.”
“So,” Birdie started again. “Do we know what questions we’re going to ask?”
I refocused on what we were there to do. It helped not to look at Myra. “What her real name is. What her relationship with Eustace Brightly was about. If she ever used the snow globe as a portal, and if she did, how did she close it?”
“Sounds good,” Birdie said. “Sinclair, do you need to prepare in any way?”
“No. I just have to put my hands on her and call up her spirit. She’ll wake up, then you can ask her anything you want. She might be a little out of it at first. People often get disoriented after being pulled out of the afterlife.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
“Wait.” Birdie fished in her purse for something, taking out her phone a couple seconds later. “I want to record this. So we don’t miss anything. Just audio. I’m not posting it to YouTube or anything.”
“Good to know,” Sinclair said.
She got her phone set up, then nodded. “All ready.”
Sin stretched out his hands.
I tightened up, the way you do right before a big firework explodes and you know the boom is coming.
He unzipped the bag and opened it so more of Myra was exposed. Then he reached in and took hold of her arm. Birdie let out a little gasp and I followed her line of sight.
She was looking at Sin. And with good reason. His eyes had gone the same silver-white as they had when he’d called up Ada. No pupils, just glowing silver-white light.
Myra gasped and sat up. “What’s going on? Where am I? Is my oven on?”
Her eyes were wide, and she flushed suddenly, all the normal color coming back into her like someone had flipped a switch. Made it easier to look at her, I have to say.
Birdie jumped in. “Myra, listen, honey, your oven’s not on and everything’s fine. You’re in the hospital, but don’t worry about that. We just need to ask you some questions before we discharge you.”
That seemed to calm her right down. Birdie was good. Really good. Myra nodded. “All right.”
“We need to know your real name.”
“Myra Grimshaw.”
“What were you called before that?”
Her gaze took on a faraway look. “Daddy changed our name from…Coldwell. We were never supposed to talk about that, but I don’t know why. Just that it was a big family secret.” The faraway look disappeared. “You won’t tell anyone, will you, Birdie?”
“Of course not. Now what can you tell me about Eustace Brightly?”
She smiled. And blushed. Which wasn’t something I’d expected from a dead woman. “Oh, my, that Stacey is a sweet one. I love him so much.”
“What’s your relationship with him?”
“My relationship?” She laughed. “I’ll tell you a secret. Stacey Brightly is my husband.”
“You’re married?”
Myra looked at me. “Yes. For nearly seventy-five years. It’s been hard, not being able to be with him in the North Pole, but…” She got very sad. “I’m not allowed back there, you know.”
It had to be a case of banishment. My father would know. “So you are a winter elf.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I just wish I could have told Nate.”
“Your great-nephew?”
She nodded, then hesitated. “He’s not really my great-nephew.”
“He’s not?”
She smiled, still sad, but there was pride in her eyes. “He’s my son. Our son. He doesn’t know. I wish he did. I wish I could have told him. But he’ll never get to know the truth about his father.”
Every inch of me came to life. Eustace Brightly’s bloodline was not dead. I still had to confirm it. “Nate is your son. Eustace’s son.”
“Yes, but since I couldn’t tell anyone about the marriage, I couldn’t tell anyone about Nate. I even made up the lie about him being my great-nephew, and I don’t have any brothers or sisters. That’s why I had to say my family was all on the West Coast. Of course, Stacey knew, but he understood why we had to keep things secret.”
Birdie leaned in. “Where is his birth certificate?”
“Safe-deposit box in First National. The key is in the false bottom of my jewelry box.” She smiled. “Stacey made that box for me. He knew we had secrets to keep.”
“Good on him.” This was an interesting conversation, but these minutes were adding up and the invisible clock ticking in my head got louder with each passing second. Sin was losing time. So was Buttercup. “Speaking of secrets, did you ever use the snow globe as a portal?”
“A portal?” Confusion clouded her gaze.
That was enough answer for me. If she didn’t know it was a portal, she didn’t know how to close it. And we had Nate. I nodded at Birdie. “That’s all we need.”
Birdie nodded back at me. “I agree. We have our solution. Nate can close the portal.”
“Portal?” Myra asked. “Has someone been using my snow globe?”
“Yes,” I said. “But we’re fixing to close it now that we know about Nate. Did Stacey tell you anything about how the globe works?”
She nodded. “He wrote up a whole paper on it for me. It’s in the safe-deposit box too.”
“Now we really have everything we need.” I reached out to pat Myra’s hand, remembered she was technically dead, and stopped halfway. “Thank you for all your help, Myra.”
“Yes,” Birdie said. “Thank you, Myra. You get some rest now.” She picked up her phone and turned off the recorder.
I moved closer t
o Sin. “That’s all, Sinclair. We’re through.”
He took his hands off of her.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she lay back down. The color drained out of her like she was being photoshopped into black and white. And that was it. She was dead again. An unexpected wash of sadness went through me.
Sinclair’s sigh shifted my attention back to him. His eyes were back to normal. But there was a new streak of silver at his temple. That made me a little bit sad. But it would forever serve as a reminder of the sacrifice he’d made for all of us. “Are you okay? I’m sorry that took longer than I’d hoped.”
He smiled. “That’s fine. You got what you needed, right?”
“Right. But are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am. I could use a Coke. Some sugar.”
“I think Mummy’s is open,” Birdie said. “We could get a milk shake. Or something. Do a little strategy session over some waffle fries.”
Sin smiled. “That would work.”
“Great. I’ll take care of Myra. You guys go wait in the office with Druzy.”
“Thank you.” I was really grateful I didn’t have to be the one to zip her up. I took Sin’s arm and out we went.
Druzy looked up from her laptop as we walked out. “Get everything you need?”
That made me wonder how much she’d heard. “Yes, thank you.” I decided to change the subject. “You look just like a pinup girl. But I guess you get that a lot.”
She smiled. “Thank you. It’s always nice to hear.”
“In fact, do you know Arty over at Mummy’s? You kind of look like his tattoo.”
She laughed. “I know him. He’s my dad.”
“For real? But he’s human, right? Not that that matters, I guess, but you must have been newly turned. Or he’s older than he looks.”
“He’s an oracle. And he’s older than he looks.”
“An oracle?”
She nodded. “It’s not a very common kind of supernatural. It’s not all that exciting either. Especially if you’re his kid. It basically means he’s right about everything.”
I thought back to all the breakfast suggestions he’d made to me. “Huh. I guess so. I’ve never gone wrong with any of the choices he’s steered me toward.”
Miss Frost Braves the Blizzard Page 17
