by Amy Boyles
They nodded.
I turned the knob and entered. Christmas wrapping paper filled my trash can and decorations were still sprinkled through the house. But none of the holiday cheer greeted me.
Men and women wearing black suits stalked through my house—taking pictures, sorting through drawers, emptying out boxes. The place looked post crime scene with police officers peppered about collecting evidence.
“What’s going on?” I demanded. “Where’s my daughter?”
Dot floated into the room. Literally floated as if she were on wheels. My great-aunt had a head of pink curls that she constantly fluffed and tended to wear tangerine-colored clothes. Right now she was a bit calmer, wearing only her after-Christmas clothes of a bright red sweater and hunter-green pants.
Dot threw her hands into the air. “Andie, I tried to stop them, but they insisted. Said they were looking for something.”
I pushed my bangs from my eyes. “What?”
A man entered. He wore a black fedora with a white ribbon tacked above the brim, a black suit, a black shirt and an ivory tie. His head was tilted down, but he peered up at me from under the lip of his hat.
“We’re looking for evidence, Mrs. Taylor,” he said.
Chills raced down my spine. This guy gave me the heebie-jeebies. Seriously. “What sort of evidence?”
“I’m Special Agent Weatherby. We spoke—”
“On the phone. Yes. I know. What sort of evidence?”
He smiled. His cheeks were pockmarked, his teeth yellow from tar or coffee. “Evidence that your child is in danger.”
Dex stepped forward. “I assure you she’s not in danger.”
Weatherby’s gaze zipped to Dex. “And you are?”
He flexed his hands. It was a gesture Dex used to do when he was about to work magic or go hand-to-hand against a supernatural being. “I’m Dexter Taylor. Gabby’s father. I was sent to Normal by the supernatural tribunal.”
A glint filled Weatherby’s eyes. “Then you know the tribunal has no sanction over MPS. We received a tip the child is in danger. I’ve come to inspect and see if she is.”
“She isn’t,” I said. The agent whistled through a gap in his teeth. His gaze flickered to each of us, and a creepy feeling curled around my stomach. This guy made me nauseous.
I glanced back at Stone, silently pleading for him to intervene.
He stepped forward and swept back his shock of dark hair. “I was sent to guard the girl. I’m her angel. Sent from the big guy. You know him? The one upstairs?”
Weatherby grinned like a cat who’d swallowed a mouse. “And I’m sure you know that I don’t take my orders from him, either.”
This was all so strange. A tip? Who would have tipped off MPS? Who could’ve known that Gabby was in danger? That Stone was here to guard her? That we were all on high alert because we knew that at some point she would be involved with an event, but none of us knew what it was, or what it had to do with her.
I spit out the bit of lip I was chewing. “I want to see my daughter. Is she here?”
Weatherby smiled. “She is. Of course you’re welcome to see her, but I’ll need to ask you a few questions first.”
“Go ahead.”
He hesitated.
“I assume you’re not planning on hauling me into magical jail, are you? I mean, other than the fact that you’re ripping my house to shreds, this is supposed to be a nice, easy visit.”
“The tribunal really hates it when magical beings are put down by other magical beings,” Dex said.
Sanctioned or not, even Weatherby wasn’t stupid enough to anger someone as well connected as Dex.
At least, I hoped he wasn’t.
“Do you know anything about your daughter being in danger?”
I pointed to Stone. “He can tell you.”
Stone leaned against a wall. “I was sent here because something of consequence is going to occur and Gabby will be involved. I’m here to guard her.”
“And do you?” Weatherby said.
Stone nodded. “I watch the house.” He paused. “Now, how did you find out about all of this?”
Weatherby didn’t answer.
“You think I’m harming her,” I said. “That’s what you think.” I turned to Dex. “That’s what he thinks. That I’m harming her. Where is my daughter? I demand to see her, and I demand that all of you leave immediately.”
A second later Gabby toddled in. “Mommy, you’re back,” she said.
I brushed past Weatherby, scooped her into my arms and hugged her to me, inhaling her fresh, baby scent.
I pulled away and went over every inch of her. Her amber curls that she clearly got from Dex were in place, and her golden eyes shone brightly.
I glared at the MPS agent. “As you can see, there’s nothing here that puts her in danger. If anything, the mess your people have caused will lead to someone slipping and falling on a piece of paper, landing on their head and hurting their noggin.”
“The girl’s in good hands, agent,” Dot said. “She has many people who love her and are taking care of her.”
Weatherby pursed his lips and eyed us coolly. After a second he pinched his index finger and thumb to the hat’s brim and ran them across. “Everything looks in order. But if I receive another phone call or tip that something isn’t right, I’ll be back. And next time it won’t be so pretty.”
Pretty? It wasn’t pretty now.
Weatherby poked the air and twirled his finger. “All right, people, let’s go. Time to head out.”
A few minutes later the agents were gone and I was left with a mess.
Dot, though, had it cleared up in no time thanks to a snap of the fingers and tweak of her nose. After putting Gabby to bed, I turned to Stone and Dex.
“Who could’ve tipped them off about the event that’s supposed to happen? Who would’ve done that?”
Stone wrapped his knuckles on a table. “No idea. Who even knows about it?”
I shook my head. “Other than us? No one I know.”
Dex leaned against the wall. He lowered his head. “Well someone must’ve said something.”
Stone’s jaw clenched. “Are you accusing me, vampire?”
Dex cocked his head back. “I’m not accusing anyone. But if you’ve got a guilty conscience, I can’t do anything about that.”
“I’ll be happy to show you my guilty conscience.”
“Boys,” I snapped. “This is no time to fight each other. We need to come together and figure this out.”
“Or we don’t,” Dot said, sailing in. “We just let it lie. There’s no sense in wondering because we’ll never know.”
Then it hit me. “Dot. Have you been saying things to people about Gabby’s abilities?”
My great-aunt clamped her mouth and shook her head. “Nope. Never said one word. Andie, dear, I don’t understand why you blame me whenever the shinola hits the fan.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “Because usually you’ve done something that makes you guilty.”
Dot grumbled something I didn’t hear. I clapped my hands together. “Okay, well, after all that entertainment, I think I’m ready for bed. Let’s just hope we don’t run into Weatherby again.”
Stone and Dex left without managing to come to blows first, which I have to say impressed me. I went to bed, though it was a fitful sleep, steeped in images of a man in a black fedora coming to take my child.
The next morning was Saturday and I was off, so I headed out with Dot and Gabby into town for a little shopping. Christmas lights still decorated the light poles, and green wreaths hung on the store windows.
We were visiting one of our favorites, Nibbly Bites, owned by the fabulous Maggie Moonglow, who also happened to be a supernatural—a shape-shifter.
We stepped inside. There was only one customer at the counter, and he was wearing a fedora.
My blood stopped running. Yes, I know that’s impossible, but I swear it froze in every vein and artery I had.
>
“My son is fine,” Maggie hissed. “I don’t know who called you here, but you can leave.”
Rufus Weatherby turned his head in our direction. I instinctively tugged Gabby to my legs.
A smile curled on his lips. “Ah, Mrs. Taylor, so good to see you. Dot. What a wonderful surprise.” He threw Maggie a sideways glance and said, “I’ll be checking back in with you. Just to be sure.”
Maggie shivered.
Slower than running molasses, Weatherby pivoted and crossed over the peel-and-stick linoleum. His shoes fell heavily on the floor, their sound ominous as he approached. Dot leaned in closer, as did Gabby. I swallowed a knot in my throat and licked my lips.
I was suddenly very thirsty.
Weatherby knelt down and took Gabby’s hand. “Little Miss Gabby. What a wonderful surprise. Aren’t you glad to see your Uncle Rufus?”
I pulled Gabby from him. “You’re not her uncle, and don’t you dare try to intimidate me.”
He looked up and rose slowly, keeping his gaze locked on mine. I jutted out my chin.
He smiled, and after a few moments Weatherby said, “I’ll be seeing you around.” He left the sweet shop. I exhaled a shot of air.
“Thank goodness he’s gone,” Maggie said, clasping a hand to her heart.
“I’m not trying to be nosy, really I’m not.” I led Gabby to the counter. “But he was at my house last night threatening to take my daughter away.”
Maggie’s face flushed. She exhaled and wiped tears from under her eyes. “He was just in here doing the same thing. He said he’d heard my Jonas was in danger and was going to take him from me.”
Dot fluffed her pink hair. “Consider yourself lucky. He came in with an entire crew and nearly destroyed Andie’s house looking for evidence.”
I rolled my eyes. “He didn’t almost destroy the house.”
Dot sniffed. “Well, you never know.”
Maggie hugged her arms. “Jonas is all I have. After his father died, it left just the two of us. If anything happened to him, I don’t know what I’d do.”
I leaned over the counter and squeezed her shoulder. “We’re all here to help each other. Look out for one another.”
“Thanks,” she said.
An idea struck me. “Do you think Weatherby’s going to all the supernaturals and threatening them?”
Maggie bit down on her lip. “Why would he do that?”
I stepped to the window. My eyes widened. There was Rufus, making the rounds in town. “He’s going into Witch’s Cauldron, the shop where Grace is pregnant.” I clicked my tongue. “Y’all stay here,” I said to Dot. “I’ll be right back.”
Dot leaned over Gabby. “Now, Gabby, I’m going to buy you the biggest chocolate you’ve ever had.”
“Don’t even do it,” I warned. “Unless you want to deal with a super grouchy toddler. And I don’t.”
Dot scoffed. “Mommy is no fun, is she?”
“No fun,” Gabby repeated.
I shoved the door open and waited for a couple of cars to cruise down the street before I had a chance to cross to Witch’s Cauldron.
A witch named Chloe owned the store, and it was sort of a new age shop filled with crystals, incense, that sort of thing. Weatherby slipped out of the shop and headed back down the street. Apparently his visit was over, but I still wanted to know what had happened.
I found Chloe holding her sister, Grace, who was crying. Her slightly rounded belly revealed a woman who was perhaps in her second trimester of pregnancy. From the crying, I had no doubt Weatherby had triggered a hormone-induced weeping session.
“Hey, y’all,” I squeaked. “Let me take a guess. Rufus Weatherby said he’s heard rumors that you’re harming your unborn child.”
Both women blinked at me. Chloe released her sister. “How did you know?”
Grace, tears dripping down her face, wailed toward the ceiling. “He said I was hurting her, that I was doing something wrong. I’m not doing anything wrong. What is he talking about?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, but I mean to find out exactly what’s going on. It looks like he’s been hitting all the supernaturals in town and telling us the same thing. He was at my house last night. His team tore it apart.”
“He threatened to take the baby away,” Chloe whispered. “We don’t know what we’ve done wrong.”
I smirked. “Who does he think he is? I mean, what’s this guy’s angle?”
I grabbed a box of tissues from their bathroom and handed them to Grace. We needed information about Rufus Weatherby and Magical Protective Services. Whoever had sent him had some answering to do. Because this guy was getting the entire supernatural population of Normal up in arms and I couldn’t figure out why.
I told Chloe to give me a call if Rufus came back. I started to head on over to Nibbly Bites and see what sort of craziness Dot was feeding my child.
A piercing scream split the air.
I rushed outside and followed the sound. Cold December air sliced into me.
All of Main had heard the sound too, because the street was full of folks. Normal people, not magical.
Now, the entire population of town knew that supernaturals lived here, and nothing bad had happened because of it so far. Which was great because one of my biggest fears was basically being tied to a stake and set on fire because I was a witch.
Medieval, I know. But let’s face it, I had an overactive imagination.
And right now, what I saw was feeding that imagination.
In the middle of the street stood Lana, a fairy who I’d had words with in the past.
She was tall and thin like other fairies, with long, light-colored hair and pointy ears. I watched her struggle with none other than Rufus, who had a fairy girl by the arm and was pulling her from Lana.
“You will leave my daughter alone,” Lana shouted.
She raised her hand. A flash lit the air, blinding me. I shielded my eyes. A moment later Agent Rufus Weatherby fell rigidly to the ground. I sprinted down the street, huffing hard because I didn’t work out as much as I used to.
I really needed to get back into the gym.
I reached Lana, who was backing away. “I don’t know what happened. I have no idea. I didn’t do anything.”
I glanced down at Weatherby, who lay frozen as if he’d been put into a block of ice and left there. His eyes and mouth were both open. I slid my fingers down his neck trying to feel a pulse.
I raked my fingers through my hair. “He’s dead, Lana.”
“I didn’t do it,” she yelled.
But unfortunately it looked exactly as if she had. Lana the Fairy had killed Rufus Weatherby in front of the entire town.
THREE
Since the agent died in daylight on Main Street, Sheriff Terry Terry had been called in.
I hugged my arms, warding off a cold chill as the sheriff scrubbed a palm down his cheek. He was in his forties, a wiry man who chain-smoked and had salt-and-pepper hair that was tinged tar yellow on the ends.
Sheriff Terry scratched his thin chest. “Gotta tell y’all, this don’t look good.”
I had parked myself by the body, keeping other folks from viewing Rufus until the authorities could arrive.
“What do you mean?” I said.
He pointed at Lana, who stood off to the side hugging her daughter. The girl looked to be about nine or so—too young to be caught up in murder.
Terry frowned. “You’ve got a mess of folks who saw that little old fairy there work some magic on this here fella, and now he’s dead.”
I gnawed my bottom lip. I knew what he was saying. The supernaturals had been embraced by the townsfolk for the most part, but with a death by magical means, their happy-go-lucky attitude might change.
Like overnight.
“What do you think we should do?” I said.
Terry shrugged. “What’re you asking me for? How would I know?”
I don’t know, maybe because you’re law enforcement? “I thoug
ht that maybe since you pointed out the problem, you might have a solution.”
“Lock your door,” he said. He patted his hair. “That’s about all I can tell you.”
I glanced down at Rufus’s body and noticed a gold ring on the pinky finger of his right hand. I hadn’t noticed it yesterday. I knelt down and peered closer. The onyx stone had cracked in two and left some sort of black residue on the band.
“What’s this?” I mumbled.
Terry glanced at it. “Looks like a ring.”
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
“I’ve never seen anything like it before. It might be magical. Can I take it?”
Terry paused. “Seeing as I don’t have a cause of death on this guy, go ahead. But I’m going to need numbers from you.”
“What kind of numbers?” came a husky voice.
I turned around. Stone had arrived. He gave me a smile that warmed me all the way to my toes. He offered his hand, and I slipped my palm in his. A jolt of fire snaked up my arm and made my hair stand at attention.
“Hi,” he murmured.
“Hi, yourself,” I replied, trying to tame the smile that blazed on my face. I bit my lower lip.
I hadn’t been alone with Stone in weeks, much less touched him.
Terry pulled a pack of smokes from his pocket and tapped one out. “I need phone numbers for some sort of supernatural investigator. Heck if I know what I’m dealing with here, and I need blondie over there,” meaning Lana, “to come with me. That kid got someone she can stay with?”
Lana nodded coldly. “Her father.”
Terry glanced at one of his men. “Call him. Meanwhile, I want this body cleared and a contact with a witch policeman or whatever you people have.”
I glanced over at Stone. “I can only think he wants someone from the tribunal.”
Stone nodded. “Sounds like it. I don’t have a number.”
I looked at Terry. “I can get you the number, but not until tonight.”
The cigarette dangled from his lips when he spoke. “Why’s that?”
I swallowed. “Because the vampire who will give it to me won’t be awake until then.”
The new coroner arrived and declared Weatherby dead. The coroner was new because the last one turned out to be a vampire who wanted to sell an angel to a pack of demons. With Stone and Dex’s help, we saved the angel and defeated the bloodsucker.
