What the hell kind of curse was that? Evil did live. It always lived. It was alive and present here in Shadowkeep. Draining Pen’s powers.
“Then, she said Penelope’s name,” Tweety looked like she was about to pass out and hit the dirt even from the mere mention of what had happened. “She said ‘Powers of darkness, make it so’ and then more stabbing motions. After she was done stabbing she said, ‘Spirits, your work is done.’”
One thing was certain. This damn bird was really good at reading lips. Now, what those lips were saying was another thing entirely. I tried not to show any signs of panic or fear. But inside … I felt like throwing up a hairball.
I had heard from Papa DeLacroix numerous times over the years that if an evil witch was passionate about their desire to punish an enemy or rival, the malevolent spirits would have no reservations in bubbling up to help the witch succeed with their wicked task. Lucinda Chokecherry had been accused of everything from cannibalism to human sacrifice. The dark rumor around the death of Arwen Silverchime still surfaced from time to time. Unfortunately, for the powers of good, she also possessed penetrating intelligence and a vast and unwavering knowledge of necromantic spells.
I had to put the poor bird at ease. “Thanks so much for the 4-1-1, Tweety,” I soothed. “It was really brave of you to tell us about this.”
“I’m telling you about this, Tali,” she argued. “Sage is a big, mean bully and I don’t like him. Not at all.”
No need to tell her that Sage thought she was a tiny, yellow floozy. That her vibrant plumage made Sage want to pluck her feathers. Besides, she was right. Sage could be a bully. And a large wing-spanned, judgmental pain in the ass.
If I could be invisible for one day, I’d stake out the Chokecherry family home and I wouldn’t leave until I knew exactly what was going on there. Sadly, not me or any other animal I knew of in Arizona had that power.
But … wait. I racked my brain because a kernel of thought had planted itself and was starting to sprout and grow. Back in the early forties, I remember Papa DeLacroix had participated in a special council. One night, after a particularly contentious meeting of the elders, he’d had a conversation with another witch about her ability to become invisible. What was her name again?
All I could remember was her frail body and a voice that cackled with glee when she spoke of her powers. Papa had cautioned her to only use those powers for good. She couldn’t still be alive could she?
Dagda Cerridwyn.
Now, how to find her and see if she could help Penelope. Back in the day, she’d lived in a ramshackle, one-bedroom cabin out in the desert. She owed Papa DeLacroix and it was time for the old sorceress to pay up.
Hey, Owlfred Hitchcaw. Are you out there?
You meowed, Cat Benatar?
I need your help. Back before you came here, Papa DeLacroix sat on a powerful council of witches and warlocks. There was a female witch on the counsel that had the ability to make herself invisible. Her name was Dagda Cerridwyn. Wouldn’t it be great if we could find her and see if she could spy on Lucinda? That’s the only way I can think of to find out what the Chokecherrys are up to. We’ve exhausted all other avenues.
Sage cocked his feathered head to one side as he pondered my suggestion.
I think I know how we can get in contact with Dagda. I also know how we can make sure she helps us.
***
“Penelope?” Dr. Luke held a warm washcloth to Pen’s head as he stroked back her hair from her face. “Penelope, can you hear me?”
That heroic cow puncher had carried his limp burden all the way from the caves to the SUV. Then he’d driven it like a bat out of hell back to the shelter. Lola had hacked up another giant fur ball after Dr. Luke took the hairpin turn at Cactus and Camelback on two wheels. He’d insisted on taking Pen to the urgent care where they’d promptly diagnosed her with dehydration and ordered up rest and fluids.
Pen’s raven hair spread across the back of her tapestry sofa, a stunning contrast of black against mauve. Her eyelids had fluttered closed almost as soon as her head had hit the cushion, exhausted by the trauma and drama of the day. Dr. Luke should just let her sleep but he’d admitted during his out loud ramblings to himself on the ride to the clinic, overheard by only me and Lola, that he was worried about some type of lasting brain injury due to the heat exhaustion. The guy needed to mellow out. He worried too damn much.
“Dr. Collier?” Pen whispered, her azure eyes opening and locking on him. “Don’t you need to get back to the clinic?”
His eyes narrowed in concern. She’d slipped back in to her old Doctor habit. “Penelope, its Saturday.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she replied, her brow knit in concentration. “We were hiking at the caves and I lost my balance and …”
Lost her balance? Was she kidding? The Shadow Watcher had flitted through the rank air and then attacked her, causing her to lose consciousness. Balance had nothing to do with it. An evil witch with the last name Chokecherry had everything to do with it or I’d give up one of my nine lives.
“It must have been the lack of fresh air in the caves,” Dr. Luke soothed. “It could have happened to anyone.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” Pen wailed as she brought her hands up to cover her eyes. As if doing so could make her invisible and she wouldn’t have to feel any mortification over her weakened state in front of her crush. She’d obviously forgotten that we men like to be your hero, ladies. You should all lean back in to your feminine energy and just let us take over.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Dr. Luke said as he held a bottle of water to her lips for a sip. “Since you seem fine, I should probably go and leave you here to rest. I’ll leave your phone right here on the coffee table. I programmed my cell in to your contacts so don’t hesitate to call or text if you need anything.”
WTG, Dr. Luke. Way to get your digits in her phone and a legitimate excuse to call you. I was starting to have hope about this bumbling fool. He’d never be as suave as I but he was surely raising his game. Pen’s eyes fluttered closed again and she was off to visit the sandman.
Lola’s silky white fur was cuddled up next to mine on the kitty bed. Dr. Luke leaned into the cushions of the wingback that Ami usually sat in, right next to the couch where Pen slept.
“Tali,” he said as he ran a hand through his thick head of dark hair. “Every time that Penelope and I seem to be getting closer, something happens to thwart our connection.”
He glanced over at the kitty bed. “Lola, maybe I should be asking your advice instead because you’re a girl.”
Is this guy for real?
I know. He’s rather pathetic but he’s a wonderful man and a talented vet. We just all need to work together, doll. If all the animals rally around, we can get them to share True Love’s Kiss.
I want to share True Love’s Kiss.
I snuggled closer and touched my nose to hers.
“Well, that had to be about the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” Dr. Luke had caught the exchange and he grinned in approval. “Maybe your owner’s death was a blessing in disguise, Lola. Now, you not only have a close companion but lots of other animal and human friends.”
I miss her.
I know you do. But … I’m here to make everything better. We’re going to have lots of fun and adventures.
A flapping of wings and a loud hoot drew Dr. Luke’s attention to the other wingback. Sage had decided to grace us all with his holier than thou presence and perched himself on the back of the tapestry armchair.
“Hey, Sage,” Dr. Luke asked as he admired the giant bird. “Come to check on Penelope?”
I should think that would be obvious, Dr. Lucas Collier.
Sage’s death stare left Dr. Luke and settled on me.
Although, I do have something we need to discuss Winston Furchill. Get thee to the barn post haste. Alone.
Sage then glanced down to Lola, dismissing her. I knew he had trepidations about L
ola’s ability to be trusted. Not sure if her story panned out. My feline intuition was never wrong and Lola was on the up and up. Her emotion over the loss of her owner and her ensuing kitty drama couldn’t be put on unless she was worthy of an academy award. Sage need to back off my girlfriend.
Wait …
Did I just say ‘girlfriend’?
As Sage flapped his giant wingspan in order to return to the barn, Pen’s eyes snapped open. The bird must have startled her because she sat up to an erect position and her oversize pupils danced around the room, not able to settle on any particular spot. She swayed from side to side and about toppled over on to the silk rug below. But Dr. Luke offered a hand to steady her. He leaned in and placed his large palm in the small of her back.
“Whoa, Penelope,” he said. “You don’t seem okay. I think you should lay back down.”
Pen turned her head to look at him as if she had no idea who he was. No idea who I was. Just as I’d stood from my kitty bed to approach, Pen opened her mouth and threw up all over Dr. Luke’s shoes.
Chapter 8
“I can’t believe you blew chunks on Dr. Luke.”
Ami sat in the very same chair the shocked doctor had inhabited when the now infamous event had taken place. The rounds of gossip had made their way around the whole shelter courtesy of Lola. Of course, it wasn’t really gossip when it was true.
Pen covered her face with her hands and didn’t even peek through her closed fingers. “I know. I’m mortified. Mortified! I don’t think I can see him again. I need to find another vet.”
Ami snorted. “Seriously, Pen, quit with the soap opera dramatics. You were sick. You threw up. A natural bodily function. It’s not even nearly as bad as that time that Mathilda Branwen farted during her speech about President Lincoln. Mattie never got over it and her nickname was Backdraft until she went away to college.”
Pen spread her fingers apart a centimeter and peered at Ami. “I forgot about that. I guess this isn’t quite as bad. But … almost.”
“It’s not even close,” Ami argued. “Luke likes you. And he’s a doctor. You think he hasn’t seen worse every day in the clinic?”
Pen was about to respond when her phone lit up with an incoming call so she snapped her mouth shut as she held the phone. Like it might sprout fangs and bite her.
“It’s him.”
“Of course, it’s him,” Ami said. “He’s worried about you. Answer it.”
“What should I say?”
“Start with hello and go from there,” Ami said as she rolled her eyes.
Pen hit the green button to answer.
“Hello.”
Ami locked eyes with me as Pen had a brief conversation with Dr. Luke that ended with “I’d like that”. Lola still slept peacefully in the kitty bed and hadn’t even lifted her head.
“Well?”
“You were right,” Pen sighed. “He didn’t even mention the incident. Didn’t even seem phased by it at all. He asked me to go to dinner on Friday night.”
“And I heard you agree. Thank God. I’d hate to have to slap you upside your head.”
Pen’s face flamed bright red as a blush traveled up her neck to land on her cheeks.
Bang!
Either Sage’s flight pattern had gone astray and he’d flown head first in to the front door or a rather impatient person was knocking. Rather, pounding. Loudly.
Pen threw both hands up in the air. “I’m not up for visitors right now. It can’t be Dr. Collier because I just hung up with him.”
“Luke.” Ami stood to answer the door. “It better not be Damian or Bianca. Worse yet, Stout.”
Pen groaned. I trotted off after Ami to stand by on alert in case she needed help with whoever or whatever was on the other side of that solid oak door. Ami stepped back and swung the door wide with a grimace on her face. Standing over the threshold were a couple of young adults that I’d never seen before.
“Is this the Fur Motel?” the young man asked as he peeked around Ami to glance inside the house. Usually, visitors read the signs and didn’t wander up to the house. These visitors didn’t pass the smell test and luckily Ami wasn’t as gullible as Pen.
“It’s on the premises but this is the owner’s home,” she said as she stared them down. Probably thinking the same thing I was thinking. That they’d been sent. For what, I didn’t know but it couldn’t be good. “Are you looking to adopt a pet?”
The woman stared, her brown eyes dripping with censure. “I really wanted to talk to the owner, Penelope DeLacroix.”
Ami puffed her chest up even bigger. “She’s indisposed.”
“Who the hell is Penelope DeLacroix?” the man asked.
This situation was getting stranger by the minute. Pen’s voice floated toward us from the living room.
“Who is it, Ami?” she asked.
Ami looked back at the couple standing about three feet apart from each other. “And you are?”
The man made a sweeping gesture as if to say, ‘ladies first’. In that moment, I realized they didn’t know each other. Or, were pretending they didn’t know each other.
“Kara Moir,” she said. “I work over at Nifty Nails on Cactus Road. I’m a nail tech. My cat passed away about six months ago and I’ve been missing her.”
She stared to a spot behind me and I turned my head to see Lola wander in to the room to check out the newcomers. Kara Moir’s long, curly blonde hair fell in tight ringlets all over her head as if she’d stuck her finger in a socket and the electric current had fried it. If this strange woman’s brain was going where I suspected, she could just forget it. No Lola for her. No Lola for anyone. But me.
The man extended his large hand to Ami. “I’m Chase Reynolds.”
Ami shook his hand and stepped outside. I barely got my body through the door to stand on the front porch before she shut it behind her. “I haven’t seen you around town and Shadowkeep is pretty small.” Ami’s eyes narrowed as she scanned up and down his six foot frame.
“I’m just in town for a few weeks visiting my aunt. My mom lost her dog a few months ago and I heard so many great things about this place, I had to check it out before I head home to Santa Fe.”
That seemed plausible, but I knew that things were rarely as they seemed. Especially, in a town where witches and warlocks were hidden in amongst the normal folk. Until their evil deeds were exposed to the bright light of day. I backed up a few steps in order to shield Lola. Just in case.
Penelope appeared in the doorway between the living room and the foyer, her raven hair disheveled and her spectacles dangling from a silver chain around her neck. She squinted at the newcomers and then perched the spectacles on the bridge of her nose.
“I’m Penelope DeLacroix,” she said as she strode forward and held her hand out in greeting.
“Chase Reynolds.”
“He’s not from around here.” Ami said, still standing there holding the door open. “And this is Kara Moir from Nifty Nails. I think I had a pedicure there once.”
Penelope shook the young woman’s hand as well. “How can I help you, Kara and Chase?” Pen had made the same mistake that they were a couple.
Kara threw her hands on her curvy hips. “Um … we’re not here together. We just happened to drive up at the same time.”
Pen stepped out on to the front porch and the rest of us followed. “The shelter is actually back here and that’s where the animals for adoption live. So, Chase and Kara, can you tell me a little more about yourselves and why you’re in the market for a new pet?”
On the few hundred yards from the house to the shelter, we found out that Kara’s orange tabby, Swiffer, had died after a long bout with feline diabetes. He’d gotten his name because as a kitten, he’d attacked the broom handle and hung on for dear life while Kara swept the floor. Chase’s mom’s lab, Darla, had passed away of old age.
Pen walked between the two and kept looking back and forth between them. I hurried forward and flung myself at the b
ack of her leg.
“Really, Tali?” she chastised. “What are you doing?”
Trying to keep you from casting another ridiculous love spell on poor unsuspecting citizens. Especially, when one of the victims doesn’t even live in Arizona. My attempt at immediate distraction was successful but I needed to stay right by her leg for this entire visit just to make sure we didn’t end up with another Jessie and Harry debacle. One that Stout would have a hay day with the next time he came sniffing around with his Jimmy Durante snout.
My heart said no and my head said no, but my legs said stay close to Penelope in order to avert spell casting disaster.
“We have a really beautiful cat in the shelter right now, Kara,” Pen said as she swung open the door to the building and turned on the lights. “Her name is Georgia.”
“Georgia … I like that name. Is she as pretty as those two cats.”
Of course, she pointed right at me. And I am a handsome specimen, if I do say so myself. What was up with everyone wanting to adopt either me or Lola? One would think we were the only cats in the world. Just because one of my feline friends didn’t possess long, silky hair and huge blue or green eyes, didn’t mean they weren’t capable of being a loving companion.
Flea catcher, who are these interlopers?
“Whoa!” Kara Moir stopped dead in her tracks which caused Chase Reynolds to run right in to her back. And he took a few seconds before he stepped away. Pen stared.
“What?” he finally said as he extricated his front from her back.
“Look at the gorgeous owl. I’ve never seen one in the wild.”
And she wasn’t seeing one in the wild tonight. Of course, Sage heard the comment and soared through the air with a flap of his giant wingspan and let out a loud hoot to draw even more attention to his arrogant self.
Penelope looked up. “That’s Sage. I rescued him years ago and now he’s so tame, he’s almost like a pet.”
“Cool.” Chase said as he strode forward so he could walk next to the very adorable Kara with her blonde curls and vibrant blue eyes.
Fur Magic Boxed Set: Talisman, Sage, Fawn, Lola: Paranormal Romantic Comedy Page 11
