“Allegedly CJ had been catfishing children with whom he’d had problems, including physical fights and teasing at his school located in the greater Los Angeles area.”
I smirked. Of course they were careful not to announce what school the kid went to for fear of other kids coming forward to accuse CJ of harassing them.
The news cut to an earlier broadcast of the mayor at a news conference. He was yelling into the microphone about finding the responsible party while his wife stood just behind and to the side of him, crying into a handkerchief. Their daughter was nowhere to be seen. Once again, they cut to the questions from the reporters. They made sure to play one question over and over again.
“Mr. Mayor, do you have a comment on the suggestion that there is a supernatural element behind these attacks?” The reporter was dressed in a black suit with a grey shirt and black tie. The epitome of the PEACE uniform if I ever saw it.
Just as the mayor shouted his answer about bringing anyone, supernatural or not, behind the attacks to justice, there was a knock at my door. I glanced at myself and sighed, almost dropping my dough when my shoulders slumped. When was I gonna learn to wait to put on pajamas until sunrise?
“Just a minute,” I called after they knocked a second time.
I rushed into the kitchen, sliding on stocking feet and knocking into the counter, where I set down the bowl and spoon. Grabbing a tea towel, I wiped my hands clean, only leaving some dough under my nails. I rushed for the door, stepping on the cuffs of my oversized flannel bottoms. There wasn’t much I could do about the dash of flour on my black T-shirt, but at least it matched the white lettering spelling out Black Witch White Magic.
I lifted up on my toes to check the peephole and saw a cluster of people waiting for me. I remembered the man dressed in a sloppy suit from Samhain as the arresting officer who took in Tollis. Behind him were two witches, Althea Courten and another I only recognized by sight. Standing beside all of them was Frankie. She towered over the others, her arms crossed under her ample bust and her eyes glowing yellow with anger as her nostrils flared.
I fell back on my heels and blew my bangs out of my face. Grumbling, I unlocked the door, lifting the freezing spell last. The door creaked when I pulled it open. All four faces looked at me. Frankie looked especially wolfish with her spikey lavender hair shot through with silver.
“Matilda Kavanagh?” the police officer said, and I nodded. “I’m Lieutenant Knoll. You may remember me from—”
“I remember,” I said. “Though I think it was detective then.”
“Yes, well it’s lieutenant now.”
“Congratulations.”
The sour look on his face showed how insincere I sounded. He’d gotten that promotion for bringing in Tollis and his pack, and that accolade belonged to Jameson and me. By the time the human police showed up, we had them bound in silver and ready to hand over. But whatever.
“Matilda, might we have a word?”
I visibly cringed when Althea said my name. She had a way of sounding like a disapproving grandmother, and we all know that grandmothers are supposed to sound doting and proud.
“Mattie, what’s all this about?” Frankie asked, her voice raspy with anger.
I looked in her steely yellow eyes and shrugged. “You got me. What is this about?”
“If we could speak inside?” Knoll said, nodding toward me.
I shared another look with Frankie before stepping back and opening the door so they could come inside. Frankie followed them, standing with me when I shut the door. It was strange to have her standing next to me, glaring at my uninvited guests as if she was protecting me.
“So what are two Collar Witches doing in my building?” Frankie demanded when I turned back around after locking the door.
I didn’t cringe that time because that was exactly what I was wondering. The two witches with Knoll flinched at the term.
When the humans had needed something to help them contain detained supernaturals, it was witches who’d stepped up to help. Those witches in particular. The city coven had developed a restraint that rendered inhuman strength weak, hampered magic, and was impenetrable to metal magic workers, like gremlins. Why they used collars instead of cuffs like the humans did, I would never understand, and they’d never given a satisfactory answer. Collars, like animals on a leash. Though helping the humans made the rest of the community mistrust the coven, it gave them a lot of clout with the human government. Althea had even been photographed with the president and other heads of state.
“I’m sure you’ve seen the reports of missing and abused children,” Knoll said, stepping in front of the witches to break Frankie’s eye line on them.
“I have,” I said.
“Well, the mayor would like some supernatural intervention.” Knoll was very good at almost totally hiding his feeling on the subject, but the muscle in his cheek jumped and his shoulders flexed under his jacket.
“Peachy,” I said, realizing I’d crossed my arms and mirrored Frankie’s stance.
“Matilda,” Althea said, stepping forward. She wasn’t quelled by Frankie’s glare. When she squared her shoulders, she almost seemed to grow to match the she-wolf’s stature. “You seem to possess a special set of skills, and it is your duty to help, just as it is the duty of all witches to help the community when called upon.”
I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
“We have come to enlist you to help sort out the source of this problem. You will help us locate and contain the person or persons responsible for these crimes and return the children to their homes.” Althea said all that as though I had no choice in the matter.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’?” I asked, making the older woman blink. She may not remember me, but I damn well remembered her. When my parents died, Althea had almost stopped Ronnie’s parents from raising me until I was of legal age. She’d insisted that I join the coven and learn at their school, a school that was better described as a convent.
“Excuse me?” she demanded.
“Mattie, you’re not going to work for the Collar Coven, are you?” Frankie demanded.
“No,” I said, looking at the three other people in the apartment.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Knoll asked, his eyes bulging in his tired face. “There are kids missing.”
“I know that, but I’m not a Tracker. That’s not my job. If you’d like to buy some locator charms, I’d be happy to brew them for you, though I’m sure either of these two women could do that just as easily.”
“You may not think you’re a Tracker, Ms. Kavanagh,” Knoll said, stepping closer, “but your record would say otherwise.”
“What?”
Knoll dug into his pocket and pulled out a phone almost the size of his hand. He tapped on the screen, squinting at it.
I shifted from foot to foot, feeling the heat of Frankie’s body almost burning the side of my face as she glared at the trio. I still couldn’t get my head around the idea that she was in my apartment to be on my side, not to punch a hole in my wall.
Artemis walked out of the kitchen, circled the ankles of the uninvited guests, and gave them all a sniff before flicking his tail and sauntering off to the bedroom. I had to stifle a laugh at the fact that he avoided inspecting Frankie. But it was something that he didn’t hiss or spit at her before darting away.
“Here we go,” Knoll muttered. “Did you or did you not locate Jackson Racanelli six months ago and thereby locate the missing Fae Prince, Roane, along with multiple other kidnapped victims?”
“Well, yeah but—”
“And was it not you who helped recover a group of missing humans who had been kidnapped by a rogue Werewolf by the name of Tollis Ayres, who was in the process of brainwashing them with drugs, ultimately leading to the arrest of Ayres?”
“Okay, but—”
“So you may not be a Tracker, but you seem to have the reputation of one.”
�
��No.” I held out my hands to stop him. “Sure, when you put it like that, that’s how it sounds, but that’s not how anything happened, and I wasn’t alone during any of that.”
“You’re more than welcome to enlist any help you might need,” Althea said.
“Listen, chica,” I said, rounding on her, “you’re supposed to be the Grand High Witch of Havencrest. Don’t you think this is your job if it’s anyone’s?”
“Matilda.”
I hated the way she said my name, and I had to fight the urge to snap at her like a child.
“It is my job to make sure the coven and the witches of the city are running smoothly and to delegate duties among my witches,” Althea said.
“Great, well, I’m not one of your witches.” I tilted my head and blinked at her.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and the muscle in her cheek jumped.
“But people need your help,” Knoll said.
“And I need to finish my baking,” I said, starting to turn toward the door. I caught Frankie’s eye, and she favored me with the slightest of smiles. It was a little unnerving.
“Ms. Kavanagh, please,” Knoll said, stepping forward.
“Why don’t you go find the hunters who caught Krampus in the first place?” I said, immediately regretting opening my mouth.
The looks that crossed their faces were a mix of shock and satisfaction.
“So you do know what’s going on,” Althea said, placing her hands on her hips and lifting her chin to look down at me.
“No one said Krampus,” Knoll said, tucking his phone back into his pocket.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, steeling my nerves. When I opened my eyes again, I met Frankie’s stare. Her eyes were still hinting at yellow, her wolf shimmering just below the surface.
“It was a guess.” I faced the witches and cop, but none of them looked as though they believed me. “Fine, I guessed, okay? But that doesn’t change anything. There is no way in the seven hells that you’re getting me to go after a demigod. Go find the hunters that imprisoned him and get them to capture him again. And while you’re at it, find out who let him out and collar them. I’m out.” I opened the door and stepped back, holding the edge as I looked at them, waiting for them to leave.
“You heard the lady,” Frankie said, clapping so loudly it made everyone jump. “Let’s move.”
Althea gave me one last angry look before she stormed out, her lackey hot on her heels. Knoll followed them, but stopped when he was next to me.
“Here.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and held it out to me. “If you change your mind, or have anything that could help us, please call.”
I took the card without a word. He looked from me to Frankie and back again before nodding and stepping out. When I closed the door, I let out the breath I’d been holding and threw all the locks.
Chapter 10
When I turned back around, I realized Frankie hadn’t left with the others. Her back was to me, and I had a moment to admire her impressive size. She was probably twice my size and a good six to eight inches taller than me, but her curves were something to envy, and the way she moved spoke of many nights running under a full moon.
Artie sat in the doorway to the bedroom, eyeing us both. His yellow eyes were wide and bright in his black, smushed face.
“He’s not scared of Weres?” Frankie asked, sounding strange because she sounded so normal. I was used to her yelling or snapping at me.
“I think Kyle has really worked wonders on him,” I said, tugging at the hem of my T-shirt.
“Right,” she said, still not looking at me. “He comes here for his migraines.”
“Yes,” I said, watching the back of her head.
“You’ve really helped with those, you know.”
I blinked. Did she just compliment me? “Thank you?”
Frankie glanced over her shoulder, and I realized I was being more than a little rude. I hurried forward to stand in front of her.
“So what’s all that?” Frankie asked, waving at the mess that was my table and kitchen.
“Oh, I’m making goody bags for clients,” I said. “I was baking the last batch of cookies when they showed up.”
“You make presents for your clients?” Frankie walked to the table and looked through the bags.
“Just my regulars,” I said, slinking into the kitchen. “To say thank you.”
I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I dropped cookie dough onto a sheet pan, darting glances at Frankie. She picked one of the silver bell ornaments and tied a red bow to it before dropping it into one of the bags. Then she did another and another—she was actually helping me.
“So,” she said, making me pause as she kept tying the pretty red bows with deft fingers, “are you really not going to help them?”
“No,” I said without hesitation. “I am not part of the Collar Coven.”
Frankie met my gaze, and her nostrils flared as she tried to scent the lie in my words. She nodded slightly, as though satisfied, and looked back at her task. I scraped together one last ball of dough and dropped it on the sheet before washing my hands.
Just as I was sliding the pan into the pre-heated oven, Frankie spoke. “My grandmother was German.”
I closed the oven door and turned to face her, feeling the pinch between my brows. “Okay.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“She used to scare me and my brothers with stories about Krampus.” Her words were punctuated with the gentle chime of the silver bells as she tied the ribbons on them.
Feeling as if I was walking on thin ice over deadly water, I came out of the kitchen, picking up a basket full of mistletoe bundles on my way. I took the chair across from Frankie and put bundles into the bags.
“My mom used to tell me Krampus stories,” I said, catching Frankie’s eyes when she flicked them up.
“I still have mixed feelings about this stupid holiday,” she said. “I used to have nightmares about him. I mean, what the hell kind of story is that to tell kids? Be good or a demon may come in the night and beat you bloody?”
“Or snatch you in his bag to take you home so he can eat you?” I offered.
Frankie lifted her eyes to mine again, and after a moment, we laughed at the absurdity of it all.
“I mean, my brothers were awful—you know how hyper Were boys can be,” she said, and I nodded slowly, “but come November and the Krampus stories, they became perfect little saints.”
“Yeah, Ronnie and I wouldn’t put a toe out of line starting at Samhain because that’s when the stories started for us.”
We fell silent for a time, each of us filling the goody bags. My jaw almost hit the floor when Frankie picked up a couple of the metallic pens I’d bought and started decorating the outsides of the bags. She drew beautiful, intricate designs with wishes of happy holidays and bright New Year’s written in script I could never have managed.
“I do feel badly for the kids, though,” Frankie said, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
“So do I.”
“Do you really think he’s back?”
“Maybe,” I admitted with a deep breath.
“How?” Frankie’s hands went still, the pen hovering over the bag as she looked at me with those intimidating eyes.
“Well, some geniuses broke into his cave to excavate his relics and put them in a museum.”
“Wait, that stuff is real?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I went there the other day and felt the power of his bag. It’s the real deal. But I mean, the fact that his bag is there proves he’s not snatching kids.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he needs his bag to snatch kids.”
“Lots of kids, yeah,” Frankie said, “but not one at a time. At least, my gran told me that he’d drag a kid through the streets by his ankles before taking him to the Underworld.”
There was a sour taste in my mouth as I stared at the she-wolf.
�
��And there’s something else, something those witches and cop should have told you.”
I was afraid to ask. “What?”
“That museum was broken into tonight.”
“What?” Sparks shot out of my fingers, dying in midair but making Frankie sit back in surprise.
“Yeah, it was on the early broadcast tonight. Someone broke in after hours and stole half the exhibit. Including the bag.”
“Oh gods, I must’ve turned the news off too soon.”
“They also shredded the paintings of Krampus and smashed the heads of those creepy statues of him.”
I didn’t want her to go on, but I couldn’t find the words to stop her.
“Mattie, I don’t want you to help the Collar Coven, but if he’s really back, then maybe you do need to help them. They’re pretty useless and…”
When I met her eyes, I saw something shift in her face. “And?”
“And you’re a pretty amazing witch. If anyone can find him, find those kids, it’s you.”
I opened my mouth, but words failed me. After a moment, and swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I managed to croak, “Thank you, Frankie.”
She nodded and finished a flourish on the bag she was working on. “Just, you know, don’t turn into one of those stuck-up bitches.”
I laughed, but it was a strangled sound. Frankie stood and walked to the door, I had to rush to open the door for her to lift the freezing spell. When she was gone, I was left alone in my apartment with the scent of baking cookies and a pit in my stomach.
***
The world around me was dark and cold. My feet were bare, and I realized I was standing on a stone floor. Snow flurries were swirling around my ankles, soaking the cuffs of my pajama bottoms. I wondered when I’d taken off my socks.
Behind me, a storm of snow and ice raged. Freezing wind pushed me forward, deeper into the cave. Ahead of me, the cavern glowed in an eerie orange. Shadows and light flickered against the stone walls, making me squint into the distance. There was warmth there, and that was more inviting than the snowy tundra behind me. I moved forward, and all questions of how I’d gotten there left my mind.
The cave became a tunnel, leading deeper into the mountain and drawing me around a corner. I kept one hand on a wall, my fingers dragging along the rough relief to keep my bearings and balance. The ground was smooth under my feet, but my toes ached with cold. There was a pop and snap of wood breaking and burning. Light flared brighter, bringing the heat toward me, and I found myself walking faster to reach it. I forced myself to slow my steps and listen.
Yuletide (Matilda Kavanagh Novels Book 3) Page 10
