Queen Witch (Bless Your Witch Book 3)

by Amy Boyles

  I might actually have gotten my name and picture in that book about queens. Maybe I needed to stay one more day and make it official.

  Reid tugged on my sleeve. "Are we going or not?"

  I shivered out of my thoughts and said, "Yes. Right now."

  We made it to the hedge. The low buzz of the roses filled my ears. I kept my back pressed against the flora. Their song hummed in my back. It felt like I was sitting in one of those massaging chairs they set up in malls. You know, the kind where you put a quarter in and you get a ten-minute massage. It's usually what the old men do while they're waiting for their wives to hurry up and shop.

  I rubbed my hands together. "Okay. This is it. You ready?" My eyes were superglued to our target. I elbowed Reid. "Are you ready?" She still didn't say anything. What the heck? Could the kid not pay attention for, like, two seconds? I twisted my neck to see why she wasn't answering.

  I gasped.

  A rose—one of the singing, beautiful flowers—was wrapped around her mouth. The shocked look on her face said everything—my sister was terrified.

  "Don't worry," I said. "I'll get you out."

  I tugged on the vine, but it wouldn't budge. I clawed at the bud covering her mouth and ripped it away.

  "Are you okay?" I asked.

  She nodded.

  "Don't panic. I'll have you free in a sec." I had the feeling it was a lie when I said it, but obviously I wasn't going to tell her that.

  I tugged at the stems. A new vine roped over my wrist and climbed up my arm. I jerked back, but it tightened, pulling me toward the hedge. I struggled, pushing my feet against the bush to leverage out of its hold.

  Darn it, the freaking plant was strong. It pulled me close and tangled around my legs. I kicked and shuffled, but the stupid thing moved like it had eyes or heat-seeking tentacles or something. It was wrapping me up like a Christmas present.

  Reid looked terrified. Tears streamed down her eyes. It was pretty much at that point I realized we were in deep doo-doo. We weren't in Kansas anymore, Toto. We were about to either show up at the pearly gates, or knowing me, I was about to be roasting on a pit in the devil's lap.

  Okay, maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

  I refused to use magic on this thing. After all, I could still breathe. I could still see. I could still hear.

  A vine twisted around my head. It covered my ears, cutting off all sound.

  Scratch that—well, I could see, and if I could see, I could fight.

  I thrashed around. Reid did the same as we both struggled to free ourselves from the stupid burping hedges.

  Reid spat out a vine. "Work some magic."

  Well, maybe I could hear some. "What kind would you suggest?"

  "The kind that kills a plant."

  I kicked at a vine trying to crawl up my leg. "I don't know that kind."

  "Then just freeze the stupid thing," she yelled.

  The guard ran over to us. Well, there went my brilliant escape plan. He stared helplessly as Reid and I became more and more tangled in the roses' grasp.

  "Sera, work some magic," Reid said.

  "No! Sera, don't work any magic." The last thing we needed was for a giant turd monster to show up breathing hot poop all over us.

  The guard tugged on the vines, but they didn't budge. Great, I'd die by a hedge of roses in a place I didn't even like. At that point even Polly baled on me. The bird released its hold and flew at the vine, flapping its wings as if he was trying to beat it off.

  It was almost cute.

  A hand of vines snaked over my face, cutting off my sight and breath. I struggled harder as the air heated. My heart crashed against my ribs. Everything turned black. This was it. It would be death by rosebush.

  Someone yanked me by the shoulders and pulled me away from the hedge. I heard a very distant thwacking, and a few seconds later, hands removed the mangled ropes of flowers from my face and body.

  Fingers very tenderly wiped stems from my eyes. I blinked. Roman towered over me. I glanced at Reid, and she was safe as well, the bindings cut away.

  Roman extended his hand. "Can you stand?"

  I nodded feebly. "I think so."

  He pulled me up. My knees buckled. He steadied me onto his chest. My bones popped and fizzled.

  "I'm rattling," I said. It was true. My body shook uncontrollably.

  He eased his mouth to my forehead. "It's the effect of the roses. It'll wear off soon."

  "I'm a mess."

  "It'll be fine," he murmured.

  I buried my nose in his chest and drank in the scents of musk and leather that clung to his shirt. I sighed, relaxed my shoulders and closed my eyes.

  "What's happened here? Is everyone all right?"

  I jerked my head up. At the end of the hedges stood Bannock. He wore a black robe cinched tightly at the waist and pair of comfy-looking slippers that I kinda wished I had.

  Roman's grip on me tightened. "Everyone's fine. The girls went out for a late stroll and ended up on the wrong end of your roses."

  Bannock shook his head. "I should have warned you about them." He shuffled up to Reid and brushed a few remaining petals from her back. "The roses only sing during the day. At night they stop anyone from trying to leave through the curtain." He shot me a look. "Not that that's what you were doing or anything."

  "Of course not," I said, teeth chattering. "The last thing I want to do is get out of here."

  The sympathetic look on his face said he knew I was lying, but he wasn't going to spill my secrets. That's probably why Bannock had been butler for so darn long—the man didn't kiss and tell. Heck, he might not even kiss for all I knew.

  Not that that was any of my business.

  Bannock ushered Reid toward the castle. "Come inside, both of you. I have just the thing that will make the aftereffects of the bush go away in no time."

  Sera sidled up to me as Roman led me off. "Think we're busted?" she whispered.

  "Nah," I said. "Go on to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

  She ruffled my hair like I was a little kid and said her good nights. Sera didn't look too upset that my brilliant plan had screwed up. Of course she wasn't. She had Brock to cozy up to while I had the shivers that needed some getting rid of.

  Bannock led us into a small study where I nestled onto a plush recliner. Roman sat next to me, holding my hand. Reid was situated on my other side, her body shaking, her teeth clacking.

  "Wha-what we-were those thi-things?"

  Bannock switched on an electric pot warmer and pulled a vial of dark liquid from a cabinet. He swirled the fluid in the low light and then set it gracefully down to heat up.

  He clasped his hands and said, "The singing roses are my little pets. I planted them almost as soon as I started working at the castle. During the daytime if you listen closely enough, they sing a wondrous aria."

  "And they burp," I said.

  A glint of amusement twinkled in his eyes. "That they do. Humorous little plant. Gentle as lambs while the sun is bright, but when daylight slumbers, they become an extra watchdog. Trained to stop anyone from trying to leave the castle illegally." He shot me a knowing look. "Which I'm sure you weren't trying to do."

  My head rattled. "No, and why do you keep saying that?"

  Bannock glanced at Roman, who squeezed my hand and said, "Otherwise he'd have to get the council involved."

  My blood froze. "You mean the queen's counselors?" I said hopefully.

  Bannock shook his head. "No. I mean the witch council."

  Crapola. That's what I thought he meant.

  Bannock switched off the warmer and pulled two glasses from a shelf behind him. He poured three fingers of liquid in each and handed one to me and one to Reid. "Drink this. It will help."

  "What is it?" Reid asked.

  He tipped his head from side to side. "A little bit of night berry mixed with some jumper fruits."

  "Jumper fruits?" I said.

  Roman nodded. "They grow in Fairyland."
/>   Of course they did. I sniffed the snifter. Mist swirled in the glass. The scent reminded me of liver. Yuck. I wrinkled my nose and looked at Bannock.

  "It tastes better than it smells."

  "Hard to believe," I said.

  He shrugged as if to say, then go ahead and shiver all night. See if I care.

  Polly Parrot sailed into the room and flapped down on my shoulder. I glanced up at him and saw that half the tape covering his mouth was hanging off. Wow. The bird was free to speak and it hadn't.

  Would miracles never cease?

  Reid tipped her head back and let the drink slide down her throat. She smacked her lips and said, "Not bad."

  After about a minute her tremors stopped. She jumped from the chair. "Wow. I feel great." Reid stretched her arms over her head. "I'm going to bed. See you up there, Dylan."

  "Do you want someone to walk you?" Bannock said.

  "Nah. I'll be fine."

  With that she left, chipper as a flippin' lark. Well, I guess I'll be having what she's having. I brought the glass to my mouth and let the warm liquid slip over my tongue. It tasted of tart berries, warm cream and smoke. It was heady, heating my throat and burning my stomach in a good way. It was kinda good. I thought about asking for another glass and then decided against it.

  I watched as the tremors in my hands slowed and finally stopped. My teeth stopped rattling, and my head quit buzzing. I glanced up at Bannock and smiled.

  "Good to the last drop," I said.

  He smiled and took the glass. "Wonderful. Now, if you're feeling settled, I'm going back to bed. I believe Master Bane can see you back to your room?"

  Roman nodded. "Thank you, Bannock."

  "My pleasure," the butler said. A slash of light caught his face, and for the first time I noticed dark hollows beneath both cheeks. Bannock didn't look well.

  "Are you feeling okay?" I asked.

  "Mmm? Me? Of course. I feel fine."

  "You don't look well."

  He gave me a tight smile. "It's nothing a little rest won't cure. I'll take my leave of you."

  "Good night."

  Bannock exited the room, leaving me and Roman alone. Roman gave me one his dark looks.

  "What?" I said.

  He scrubbed his palms down his cheeks. "What am I going to do with you?"

  I sniffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  He glared at me. "I've got a queen who's trying to escape, a murderer on the loose, and God knows what else. Can't you at least, just for once, Dylan, play by the rules?"

  "Do I have to?"

  He rose. "Yes, you do. Would it kill you?"

  "It just might."

  He tapped his fist on the back of a chair. "That's not funny. Those roses could've harmed you tonight."

  "But you were there," I cooed.

  "Only because Bannock alerted me that his alarm was going off. I figured it would be the killer trying to escape." He slapped a hand against his thigh. "But then I found you. Queen Witch—"

  "In name only—"

  "Trying to escape." He sighed. "What am I supposed to do with you?"

  I shrugged. "Lock me up."

  "Very funny."

  I rose. "Seriously. Lock me in my room. Do what you have to. I don't care. Keep me here forever, because goodness knows I'm never getting away from this madness anyway."

  He smirked. "What are you talking about?"

  I gestured around the room. "This. These people. These witches. I'm apparently going to be stuck with them for the rest of my life. Something I have no choice in and, frankly, don't want. So go ahead. Lock me up in some lonely tower where all I eat is bread and water. Do it! I don't care anymore."

  He stared at me, his expression blank. "If that's what you want."

  "It's what I want," I said firmly.

  "But you might change your mind after I show you something."

  Don't ask. Don't ask.

  "What's that?"

  Darn it. I asked.

  His lips curved into a delicious smile. "Gertrude's wand."

  FOURTEEN

  "I'm not interested in Gertrude's wand," I lied.

  Roman quirked an amused brow. "Really? Not the tiniest bit interested?" Somehow his masculine baritone managed to come out kind of squeaky, like he was making super fun at me. Which I'm sure he was.

  "No. I don't care about that wand."

  He scratched the back of his head. "Not even if I have it in my back pocket."

  I rolled my eyes. "You don't have it in your back pocket."

  Roman shrugged. "You don't know that."

  "I do know that."

  "Bet you don't."

  I let my arms collapse onto my thighs with a thud. "Your back pocket isn't big enough. You couldn't fit a wand down it."

  His lip coiled. "Want to find out?"

  "Very funny."

  Roman rose, stepped over to a book on a shelf and pressed it in. One foot to his right, another book popped out. He tugged the cover. It wasn't a book at all, but a rectangular-shaped box. It looked like a safety deposit box you'd find at a bank. He slid off the cover and retrieved a long stick.

  "That was cool," I said.

  "Yeah. It's a temporary spot to put it while our evidence room gets cleaned out," he said.

  "Why's it need to be cleaned?" I said.

  "Because it's a broom closet."

  Well, that would do it.

  He laid the box on a table and rested the wand in his palms. "This is it."

  A block of hair had fallen in my face. I brushed it away and glanced up at Roman expectantly. He nodded for me to take the thing. I reached out, unsure of what to expect. Would it be surging with power? Would it act like a Mexican jumping bean? Would it speak nonsense in my head? Not sure where that thought came from, but hey, this was Castle Witch. You never knew what was going to happen.

  I curled my fingers around the broad end and closed my eyes.

  Nothing. I didn't feel a rush of power or a surge of anything.

  "That's weird," I said.

  Roman rested his hip on the arm of my chair. "What?"

  "I don't know. Seems to me with a wand I'd feel some sort of power. I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. I mean, I don't know anything about wands. I'm a novice at this whole witch thing, remember?"

  "How could I forget?" he muttered.

  I leaned back and glared at him. "What was that?"

  "Nothing." He flashed me a brilliant smile.

  I ignored him and ran my fingers down the wand. It was made of some sort of wood, carved and varnished. The handle end was wider than the tip. I inspected it, noting a small ring that resembled the growth chart on trees.

  "Doesn't seem like much," I said.

  Roman crossed massive arms over his chest. "But it's her wand. A wand that no one had ever seen her use before."

  "What does Pearbottom think?"

  He tapped a finger against his thigh. "That it's worthless information."

  "This is the man who charged you with murder," I said.

  Roman smiled sadly. "He is."

  I handed the wand back. "So I'm sure you put tons of stock in his opinion."

  Roman said nothing.

  I decided it was best not to bring up the past, so I said, "Well, I think it's weird."

  "Weeirrd," screeched a slightly muffled Polly Parrot.

  Roman narrowed his eyes at the bird on my shoulder. "Why is its mouth taped?"

  I waved his question away. "You know, just so he wouldn't scare anyone when I went on my nightly stroll."

  Roman glanced skyward and sighed. "Right. Dylan Apel, what am I going to do with you?"

  "You know I'm just going to keep trying to escape until I do."

  "No one else is doing that. No one. Everyone else is waiting while we work on this investigation."

  "Self-preservation, Roman. I want to live. Witches die. I'm not trying to join them."

  He shook his head. "What do you want?"

  I rose and stretched my
arms over my head, thinking about it. After a minute I pivoted around and said, "I want to be somewhere where no one can bother me."

  He knitted his brows together. "No one?"

  "No one."

  "There's only one place I can think of where that would happen."

  "Great. Where is it?"

  He smiled. "The dungeon."

  ***

  "Can I at least get some candles in here? The air is so stale."

  I sat on a stool in the middle of a cold stone cell.

  Roman peered through a hole in a thick wooden door. "What did you say in there? I couldn't hear you."

  "Ha-ha. Very funny. I asked for a few candles to freshen up the air a bit."

  I heard his feet shuffle. "You know you're in the dungeon, right? You asked to be here."

  I rubbed a knot in the back of my shoulder and said, "I know that. I'm aware that I asked to be here, that I want to be here so I can stay out of all the drama upstairs. All I'm asking for is a few comforts—like candles. And maybe a comfy pillow and a good book to read. Is that too much?"

  Roman chuckled. To be honest I was impressed that he was going along with my request to be holed up. Guess he kinda liked me. Well, I kinda liked him, too.

  He exhaled. "Ah, Dylan. No, it's not too much. I'll see what I can do."

  "Great," I said, as chipper as I could be given that I had locked myself in a dungeon in the bottom of a castle filled with witches.

  He walked off, and I took a moment to familiarize myself with the green slime that clung to one of the walls. Ew. Maybe I should ask for a different cell.

  Wait a minute. Nope. I'm a big girl. I could handle it. If I stayed down here, I wouldn't be doing any magic. I wouldn't be wrangled by any witches, and I wouldn't have to come to terms with anything. I could just pretend that this whole situation didn't exist.

  Perfect.

  Polly Parrot flew off my shoulder and landed on the single barred window. The bird blinked its wooden eyes and stared at me as if to say, now look what you've got us into.

  "You don't have to stay," I said. "You can leave when Roman gets back. No one's forcing you."

  He blinked. The ragged tape around his beak hung loosely. Guilt wrenched my stomach. Why the heck did I feel bad about a piece of tape around a wooden bird's mouth? I didn't know, but my churning stomach suggested that I should remove it. So I huffed and puffed over to Polly and tugged on the adhesive until it gave way.