by Amy Boyles
“Yep,” Stevie said. “It’s terrible about Justin. Guy got me this job. We were friends. I’m finishing decorating the place for him.”
I nodded toward the wall. “Oh. He liked the occult? Vampires?”
“Yeah, both of us do—did.”
Bingo! See? It was makeup. Not a real vamp. I knew I was right.
“Ever thought what it would be like to be one?”
Stevie raised his arms like he was about to take flight. “Oh yeah, dude, to be a bat and, like, fly around and live forever as a bat, that would be so cool.”
“Not how that works,” I murmured. I mean, vampires do not exist as bats. Everyone knew that.
Okay, if you didn’t know that, that’s how it is. I’ve never, not once, seen a vampire that could turn into a bat or transform into any other shape.
“But what about blood,” I said. “The bloodsucking part? What do you think about that?”
Stevie scrunched up his face like he’d sucked two lemons back to back. “Ew. No. Drink blood? That’s disgusting.”
I clicked my tongue. “So since you were both so into vampires, is that what you two were going to be for Halloween?”
Stevie nodded. “Yep. Vamps all the way!”
“Thanks for all your help, Stevie.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Lady.”
I walked back upstairs.
“Miss Givens,” I said, strolling into her office. I twisted the blingy necklace around my neck. “You look well this morning.”
Givens sat behind her desk fingering the steel-wool-looking curls that covered her head.
“It’s all in makeup application, Andie. You’re still young and have that youthful skin. You don’t need makeup, but when you get to my age, trust me, a good solid foundation will become your best friend. That, and a fabulous shade of red lipstick.”
“You don’t say.” I leaned on the doorjamb. “So did you find out about Justin? What did he die from?”
She nodded. “The county coroner ruled it heart failure caused by an arrhythmia.”
Heart arrhythmia. Easy. Simple.
“But they couldn’t explain how he ended up in the closet,” Givens said. “Unless, of course, he was looking for more candy corn.” She uncrossed her legs and rose. “But as far as his mother is concerned, he died because of his heart. In case anyone asks.”
I saluted her. “Aye, aye, captain.”
Givens pouted. “You know, Andie, making fun of people isn’t nice.”
“I wasn’t making fun. I was following you into the murky depths of the ocean as our ship was sinking.”
“That’s worse. Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”
My phone buzzed as we were turning down the hall. Her heels clacked, my Keds padded along. I rummaged through the pit that was my purse until I found it. The word HOME flashed on the screen.
Oh no, it was the babysitter. Something was wrong.
“I’ll catch up,” I said to Givens.
I shouldered off to the side of the hall and thumbed the phone to life. “Hello?”
“Andie.”
“Vordrid,” I hissed. “What the heck are you doing calling me? And how are you able to use the phone?”
“Andie, I’m a wizard.”
“Were,” I said. “You’re not anymore. You shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Are we going to split hairs or do you want to know what I have to say?”
“Life and death, Vordrid. It better be life and death with the babysitter over there. If she saw you, that would be catastrophic.”
“It’s Gabby.”
My blood chilled. “What happened?”
“She’s been screaming ever since you left and won’t calm down.”
I sighed. “Is that all? She’s probably upset that I’m gone.”
“No, Andie, that’s not all. She’s not just screaming. She’s doing things.”
“She’s a toddler. She does things all the time.”
“No, Andie. She’s doing it with her mind. She’s barricaded herself in one corner of the room and built a wall of toys between her and the babysitter.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Is that all?”
“No. She’s frozen the babysitter.”
My heart jammed into my throat. “What do you mean, frozen?”
“The babysitter isn’t moving. I think she’s stuck in time.”
FIVE
“When crap happens, it can quickly really splatter.”
—The Witch’s Handbook
* * *
I swooped to my car, cranked the engine and did my best not to speed down Main.
Pretty sure I didn’t do a very good job at that.
When I reached the house, I ground the SUV to a stop under the carport and raced into the kitchen, where Vordrid met me.
Well, met is not the right word. The 8 Ball sat on the counter, his murky top registering the CANNOT PREDICT NOW message.
“Is that supposed to be a sign about whether or not I’ll be able to stop this?” I said over Gabby’s cries.
“Am I that transparent?”
“You’re that obvious,” I said, scooping him up and taking him to the living room.
I froze at the sight. Gabby sat in the corner, giant Lego blocks barricading her from Charlotte, who stood frozen, a whirl of dollies and small toys forming a funneling tornado around her.
“Gabby, Mommy’s here,” I said. “Mommy’s here.”
Her screams softened. I crossed to the wall and peeked over. Gabby sat on the floor, tears streaking down her face and pooling at the base of her neck. Her hair was plastered to her head, and her face was as red as a cherry.
“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” I cooed.
I pushed the blocks out of the way and gently pulled her into my arms. Her cries lessened until they became hiccups. I stroked her hair and kissed her head.
“Everything’s okay, hon. It’s all okay.”
She hiccuped until her eyes closed, and I rocked her against me.
“Vordrid,” I whispered.
“Yes, Andie?”
“What happened?”
“I really don’t know. Gabby started screaming, and when I came in here to see, this is what I found.”
“But how did it happen?”
I was pretty sure that if Vordrid could have shrugged, he would have. “It looks like the child has gotten her powers.”
“At the age of two? Vordrid, that’s not possible. This shouldn’t happen until she hits puberty.”
“I hate to tell you, Andie, but it is possible because that’s what happened.”
I pursed my lips together as I digested the scene in front of me. Gabby with a wall of toys much taller than anything she could have made by hand and a babysitter with a hurricane of magic surrounding her.
“You may need to get The Witch’s Handbook,” Vordrid said.
“I don’t need that darn handbook, and I really wish you’d stop bringing it up,” I snapped.
“How do you plan on breaking whatever spell the babysitter is under without it?”
I nibbled my bottom lip. It was a nervous habit, one I hadn’t needed for ages. At least it felt like ages.
“It might stop on its own,” I explained in a voice calmer than I felt. The voice that threatened to spew was a knot of Mommy panic and angst.
“It may cease,” Vordrid admitted, “now that Gabby’s calm.”
In fact, just a few moments later the tornado died and Charlotte started to blink. She yawned. Her gaze searched the room and landed on me holding Gabby. Confusion twisted her face for a moment, and then she beamed a dazzling smile full of pearly whites.
“Oh, Mrs. Taylor, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Yeah, I can be sneaky like that. Deathly quiet when I want to be.”
“Must be,” she said. “Well, that was great. Gabby was a good girl; we had a lot of fun. Thanks so much for letting me watch her. I’d love to come over again.”
&
nbsp; Gabby sniffled from my shoulder. She pulled her head up and gazed at Charlotte. Her bottom lip shot out in a pout, and I knew the waterworks were about to start up again.
“I’ll call you,” I said, guiding Charlotte toward the front door. I fished some money from my pocket and crammed it into her open palm. “Listen, have a great day and we’ll be in touch.”
“Thank so much! I hope you have a great day—”
I kicked the door shut as she was saying, “—too.”
I got Gabby settled, plopped myself down on the couch and dropped my head between my knees. “What the heck am I going to do now?”
Vordrid rattled. “Well, you can’t take Gabby to school anymore.”
“I know, Vordrid. I’m well aware she can’t go to school, but her powers shouldn’t be coming in. What is going on?”
“I’m pretty sure it was that comet,” he said. “It must’ve caused seismic change in the atmosphere that created a disturbance in the magical currents and resulted in Gabby’s powers coming on prematurely.”
“I’ve never heard of anything like that.”
“You don’t read Witch Science News. If you did, I guarantee that you would also believe in my hypothesis.”
I scratched my scalp. “It’s not that I don’t believe it, it’s just that I’ve never heard of anything like that. Regardless, Gabby can’t go to school. I can’t have her magic causing a disturbance like this.”
Vordrid rattled back and forth. I hated when he did that. It meant he was thinking up a plan that I wouldn’t be thrilled about.
“What?” I said.
“Gabby needs instructions in her magic; otherwise she might do much more than freeze the babysitter. She could freeze the whole block.”
“What?” I said in disbelief.
“Andie, she’s a two-year-old who just froze one person. I’ve never seen a toddler so powerful. There’s no telling what else she might be able to do.”
I picked at my manicure. Vordrid was right.
“Since you have to work, I know just the person.”
“Who?” My stomach twisted. I had a bad feeling about this.
“Dot.”
“No.”
“Andie…”
“No, Vordrid. She can’t have Dot as a witch teacher.”
“Andie, if I had hands, I’d be raising them in disbelief.”
I laughed at that.
“The child needs an experienced witch to teach her, one that’s not ashamed to use her powers. She needs someone who uses magic regularly and has the time to instruct her.”
Dang him, but Vordrid was right. I couldn’t stop teaching preschool. We needed the money, and Gabby required someone to guide her, show her the way. Without another witch, there was no telling what would happen, what she could do next.
“You could do it?” I said hopefully.
“No, Andie. I’m a hunter mentor. I have no interest in teaching magic to a child. Besides, she’d drool on me.”
I lifted my head and rested it on the lip of the couch. He was right. For once. “Is Dot our only choice?”
“She’s the best choice,” he tittered. “She knows Gabby.”
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Vordrid was right. “Okay,” I said reluctantly. “Contact her and see if she can come tomorrow.”
“This means I’ll have to leave for a few hours.”
“That’s fine.”
“Don’t let anything happen to my body while I’m gone. I’m partial to that 8 Ball.”
I snickered. “Don’t worry. I’ll put it where no one will get to it. Not even Gabby.”
Vordrid drifted above the orb. The blue and yellow gas shrank into a tight ball before zooming around the room and through the window.
I spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Gabby, making supper, giving her a bath, and readying for bed. Time zipped past, and Vordrid still hadn’t returned.
No big deal, he always came back eventually.
I was unwinding with a glass of wine when I heard a crash from the backyard. I sprang from the couch, ran to the kitchen and switched on the light.
Two men huddled in the yard. One man swung a knife, hitting the second man in the abdomen. He sank to his knees. He flashed something at his combatant, who fell back and ran off into the dark night.
The wounded man slumped over, obviously exhausted and hurt. I tapped the lock. Do I go out and help him, or don’t I?
I knew what Vordrid would say. Andie, you know you should help him.
“I know that,” I whispered.
It means you’ll probably get involved in something, he would say.
“I know that, too. Would you please stop saying my name so much? It’s really annoying.”
That man may need help. There was a time when you swore an oath to help others, to offer your services to protect them.
“Yeah, but that was before it all went wrong.”
It doesn’t have to go wrong again.
I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting Vordrid to be sitting on the counter. He wasn’t. I sighed and pressed my forehead against the cool glass.
Everything was crashing down, everything was changing and it had only been a little over a day. Well, when the crap hits the fan, it really smears all over the place.
I didn’t even know if he was a good guy. What if he was bad and would kill me first chance he got? I grabbed a knife from the butcher block and tucked it in my waistband.
I unlocked the door. The lining sucked over the lip of the frame, breaking the seal a lot louder than I wanted.
I tiptoed down the steps and onto the grass. The man didn’t look up. He hunched over, clutching his side.
“Are you okay?” I said quietly.
He glanced up, startled. Chin-length ebony hair slashed over his face. Strong cheekbones, a chiseled jawline and a straight nose all set the stage for a pair of silvery eyes that held surprise but also a wave of confidence that took me back.
“Hunter,” he said in a husky voice that sent a pulse of chills spreading down my spine.
“Was.” I didn’t even bother to ask how he knew that. What was the point? Seemed like these days my reputation was preceding me.
He rose, clutching his middle.
“You’re hurt,” I said. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
What was I doing? I was letting a strange man come inside my house with my sleeping child in there. He could be anyone. He could be a serial killer, a deranged lunatic, a psychopath.
Crap. Vordrid might be right after all. It might be time to get out the handbook.
I’d wait on it, though. See if I really needed it or not.
I touched his shoulder. A shock wave of power danced through my arm. I staggered back, unsure of what the heck had just happened. I exhaled a sharp breath and wedged my shoulder under his arm to support him.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes,” he said. “Can you?”
I frowned. “I’m not the one who got into a fight. I can walk.”
“But now you’re helping me.”
I got him into the house and settled him on a stool. I bolted the door shut and turned to him. I met his gaze and trembled. His eyes searched my face in a way that made me feel this man was reading into my soul. At the same time I felt calm, comfortable.
His gaze touched places in my mind that I’d locked away ages ago. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to open them, so I moved to his rear.
“Now, let’s get that shirt off so I can clean those wounds.” Blood had soaked through his white T-shirt. I grazed my fingers over his arms and felt the electrical current. It pierced my skin, zinging into my nerves and shattering my bones. It drew me to him, and I felt a yearning like nothing I’d experienced in years.
Not since Dex.
I helped him lift the shirt over his head, and I’m pretty sure I heard a choir singing the Hallelujah chorus. My goodness, this guy was cut. I mean, every muscle in his body bulged and then jackhammered in to de
lineate the next muscle.
And that was only his back.
I ignored the jumble of hormones swarming through my body. I had a toddler. I didn’t have time for lust.
I grabbed some antiseptic, a warm, soapy rag and some bandages from a cabinet. “Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with and then I’ll ask you the important questions, like how’d you end up fighting in my backyard?”
I stepped around the counter to take a look at his cuts. Silver eyes watched me uneasily as my gaze dragged to his neck where a cross dangled from a chain. I glanced at his shoulders, down his smooth chest and to his stomach, where the cuts would be.
I watched as the slash over his abdomen threaded itself together as if an invisible hand was healing him. I stepped back as the wound stitched together until there was absolutely no trace that it had existed in the first place.
I dropped the rag and peroxide to the floor.
Fear clawed up my throat. What the heck had I allowed into my house?
He rose. He was easily six feet tall and nearly as wide as my door. The stranger watched me quietly, confidently, in a way that made me blush.
“What are you?” I said.
“My name’s Stone. I’m an angel. Your world is in danger, and I need you to help me save it.”
SIX
“Most supernaturals are ultimately good. Except for the ones who aren’t.”
—The Witch’s Handbook
* * *
Like, I don’t even know how to describe the frazzled thoughts that zipped through my brain when Stone the angel dropped the bomb of the century on me.
“Wait. What? My world is in danger?”
Okay, my world in danger is definitely a huge thing. I apparently had an angel sitting in my kitchen telling me things that maybe only angels knew. Maybe they didn’t. Maybe this was a hallucination brought on by that sip of wine.
“What are you talking about?” I said.
Stone coughed into his fist. “Do you mind if I have a glass of water?”
“Sure,” I said. I ran a glass from the tap and handed it to him.
