Phantom Quartz: A Stacy Justice Witch Mystery Book 6 (Stacy Justice Magical Mysteries)

by Barbra Annino

  I crawled up next to her and rested my head on her shoulder. She stroked my back like she did when I was little, her nails tickling my skin.

  “Tell me about that handsome young man of yours.”

  So I did.

  After spending some time with mom, I headed back downstairs with one last question. I found Birdie in the parlor stoking a fire, Thor resting his big head on Fiona’s lap, the rabbit nowhere in sight, and Lolly embroidering what appeared to be a cape for my dog. It was black as night with a huge gold thunderbolt slashed across the back. Thor sauntered over to me and shot me an image of himself wearing the cape and flying.

  I ruffled his ears. “Not sure it works that way, buddy, but if you’re going to dream, dream big.”

  He gave me a few rough barks, then jumped up to nibble my nose, paws on my shoulders. I scratched his sides and he leaned in for a hug. We stood there a moment, heads entwined, and I could feel the tension drain from both our bodies. It settled into a pool at my feet and I kicked it away.

  I stroked Thor’s back and he grunted. The sound of relief

  “You did good, Big Man. I’m really proud of you.” I kissed his big nose and he hopped down and settled in near the lighted tree.

  I pulled the medallion Leo gave me from my pocket and placed it on the mantle. Slid it to Birdie. She picked it up, her eyes brightening. The Geraghty Girls all oohed and ahhed at it.

  There was another huddle and more whispering.

  “What’s happening here?” I asked, a bit panicky.

  Birdie held the coin to the light and bit it for some reason. The gold coin sparkled under the light, and the leaves on the tree of life etched into it rippled.

  Birdie said, “It’s legitimate. Who gave this to you?”

  “Leo. What does it mean?”

  Birdie scrunched her face, considering. Then she raised a brow and passed the medallion back to me.

  “It means he’s your Keeper.”

  “He’s my what?”

  “A type of bodyguard. Every Seeker has a Keeper. No one knows who appoints them.”

  I’d never heard of this. They never mentioned it to me before. And who the hell came up with such a dumb name? I ran my fingers through my hair, pacing.

  “So let me get this straight. He’s supposed to like, watch over me. Protect me.”

  Fiona said, “And your secrets. At all costs.” She looked at Birdie. “You owe him an apology. You haven’t exactly been gracious.”

  Birdie shrugged.

  I rolled this around in my brain for a moment. I didn’t like this one bit. Not one. And certainly, Chance would have a major problem with it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before? Why didn’t he?”

  Fiona said, “It was learned over the years that Seekers don’t like the idea of being protected by another, so the Keepers are usually...hidden.”

  “Except you’re always in so much danger, he was bound to be discovered sooner or later,” Lolly said.

  “Well as I said, he almost shot me, so he’s not a very good one. Who do I call to get a replacement?”

  “I told you. No one knows who appoints them. He’s it. You’ll have to live with it,” Birdie said.

  Has he known? This whole time, has he known?

  Lolly said, “He wouldn’t have been assigned until you were confirmed. He’s known since you got back from Ireland.”

  Which was a few months ago. I stood there, staring at the medallion, rolling it over in my hand. The metal grew hot as my anger seethed within me.

  I was literally considering choking him.

  Chapter 50

  The evening of Yule, both Cinnamon’s and my family were gathered in the dining room, eating, drinking, and laughing. I grabbed a large bowl from the kitchen and piled smoked ham, roast turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans into it and called to Thor. The poor dog had been so exhausted from watching over Cin and the baby all these months, that he hadn’t slept for twenty-four hours straight. He had to be starving, and holiday meals were his favorite.

  When he didn’t come, I went looking for him. I searched the house and finally poked my head out the door thinking that he was assaulting a shrub. That’s when I noticed Cin’s car was missing.

  I hopped in the Jeep, the bowl of food on the seat next to me, focusing on Thor. He quickly sent me an image of the Black Opal, so I drove straight there.

  Cinnamon was smacking pool balls so hard, they flew off the table, and one by one, Thor caught them and dropped them into the pouches.

  “Who’s hungry?” I asked.

  Thor trotted over to me, took a big whiff of the bowl and started devouring the food before I had even set it down. I placed the bowl on a side table and went to talk to my cousin.

  “How are you, Cin?”

  The baby was in a bassinet, sleeping. Her tiny fingers were curled into tight fists as if she were about to throw down.

  Cin chalked her pool cue. “Well, I just found out that my mother and her cousins are witches, and that I am too, so all in all, pretty crappy. Thanks for asking.” She aimed at the eight-ball. Sunk it.

  I grabbed a cue for myself and chalked it. Cin smacked the nine-ball into the corner and I reached for the rack. Finally, I said, “You can’t run from it, Cin, believe me, I’ve tried. It’s a part of you. You need to accept it.”

  She looked me straight in the eyes and said, “No offense, Stacy, but I don’t want to be like you and I certainly don’t want the baby to be like you.”

  I tried to keep my face unreadable, but she caught the hurt.

  She said, “You know what I mean. You’re always in danger. Always off on some crazy adventure. I don’t want that life.”

  I racked up the next nine-ball game. “Cin, that’s not because I’m a witch, that’s because I’m a Seeker. It wouldn’t be the same for you. You’d be more like Birdie and the aunts, and, you know, your mom.”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. The baby cooed and Cin leaned her cue against the wall and went to pick her up.

  Thor burped as he sauntered over to us, all swagger and hips, the white rabbit hopping behind him. There was a bowl of water near the back door, and Thor lapped some up, then curved back around to Cin and the baby. The bunny hopped onto a chair.

  “Oh yes, and did you hear? Fiona said the rabbit is my familiar, not the baby’s. You get a big ass dog and I get a powder puff.” She gave the bunny a disgusted look. The rabbit perked up its ears, waiting for a command. Thor shooed it away, and the rabbit hopped over to a rug and settled in for a nap.

  I bit my lip because it was pretty funny.

  Cinnamon sat, cradling the baby and Thor gently approached them. He glanced at Cinnamon for permission. “Go ahead, buddy. Get a good sniff. She smells like cotton.”

  Thor sniffed the baby and she kicked her tiny foot.

  “You know, you really should decide on a name,” I said.

  Cinnamon looked at the tiny creature in her arms. Her face went all squishy. “I think you look like a...hmm, what do you think, Thor?”

  Cin turned the baby around to face the giant dog. She punched the air with her tiny feet and drooled all over Thor. Then she made an “ah, ah, ah” sound. Thor reached in for another whiff, and the baby’s fingers grazed his nose.

  He sat back, looking as if he might melt from cuteness overload.

  “What a sweetie pie,” said Thor.

  I stared at the dog, then looked at Cin. “Please tell me someone else said that.” My head whirled around.

  “Said what?” asked Cinnamon.

  Thor sighed and sauntered over to the bunny. “Come on, kid. Let’s go for a walk.”

  The giant dog walked over to the back door and slapped it open. He and the tiny rabbit left the room.

  I stood there with my mouth hanging open, praying that I had just imagined that. That my dog couldn’t actually talk. I looked at the baby in Cinnamon’s arms. “Did you do that?” Could she cast a spell at less than a week of age?


  Cinnamon said, “Do what?”

  She already had enough to deal with, so I shook away the thought. I had to have imagined it. Had to.

  I racked the nine balls and Cinnamon put the baby back in her bassinet, covering her with a blanket. She broke up the balls and sunk the three. Then she maneuvered around the table to aim for the one.

  I said, “So here’s some news. Apparently Leo is my Keeper. That’s sort of a bodyguard for Seekers.”

  Cinnamon, who was leaning over the table, about to shoot, stopped in her tracks. “You’re kidding.” A big smile swept her face.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “It’s kind of funny.”

  I sighed as she smacked the cue-ball into the one. It banked and rolled into the seven-ball, then rolled to a stop just outside the pocket.

  I aimed for the one-ball and punched it into the seven. “The best part is I can’t even request a replacement because no one knows who appoints them.” The ball fell into the side pocket.

  A gust of wind blew into the bar as I missed the two-ball.

  Behind me, I heard, “That would be me.”

  I turned to see Uncle Deck standing on the threshold, his hair illuminated by the red and blue swirls of the Coors Light sign. He was wearing jeans and a brown leather jacket, looking every bit as strong and intimidating as the last time I had seen him. Like a Celtic warrior. I reached for my power, thinking it was another shifter, a trick. I dug deep, focusing on the man standing in the Black Opal.

  I flashed my eyes to Cinnamon and that’s when I saw it. The wave of bright energy that threaded from my cousin to her father. A tether. A connection that only comes with love. It was him.

  Cinnamon was frozen in place, eyes wide, mouth open.

  So he was here. He was really here. Not a shifter. Not a ghost.

  Cinnamon didn’t move, and no one spoke for several moments.

  Finally, I said, “So Uncle Deck, is there like a form or something I can fill out to get a new Keeper?”

  That’s when Cinnamon rushed to her father.

  END

  Lolly's Cranberry Baked French Toast

  from Geraghty Girls Recipes

  The day our Stacy came into this world it was unseasonably cold. A sheet of frost glazed the window panes like a coat of protective nail polish. I could sense my sister pacing all the way across town in the house our father had built. She was nervous, excited, and—though I would never voice it to her—afraid. Of what, I wasn't certain at the time, but now I know. These days we're all fearful for Stacy. For the dangers she encounters as the Seeker of Justice. For the black souls that it is her duty to harness. The girl is brave, there's no doubt about that. Stubborn too, as proven by all the years she turned her back on her gifts. She gets that from her grandmother. So stubborn, in fact, she put her mother through hours of labor before she decided she was good and ready to meet the family. Luckily, I knew she was going to take her sweet time making an entrance and was prepared for just such an occasion. After all those hours of worrying and waiting, people need to eat.

  1 loaf French bread, sliced 1 inch thick

  8 oz cream cheese, softened

  1 can cranberry sauce

  ½ stick melted butter

  1 cup maple syrup

  1 cup orange juice

  6 eggs, beaten

  1 oz Kahlua

  Coffee

  In a 9x13 pan, place half of the bread on the bottom. Blend cream cheese and cranberry sauce. Spread over bread. Top with remaining bread. Blend butter, syrup, juice and eggs and pour over bread. Refrigerate overnight. Bake in a preheated 350°F oven for 45 minutes. Pour a cup of coffee and add the shot of Kahlua to it. Sip on the coffee while the French toast cooks. Top with powdered sugar and serve warm.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Barbra Annino is the author of the enchanting and popular Stacy Justice mystery series. Sin City Goddess is the first title in her exciting Secret Goddess series and The Bitches of Everafter is the first novel of the new spellbinding trilogy based on the Grimm fairy tales. Originally from Chicago, she shares her home with her husband and their Great Danes, all of whom contribute to her books in unique ways. You can find out more about her by visiting www.barbraannino.com or her Facebook page, the Fan page, or by emailing her at authorbarbraannino@gmail.com.

  COPYRIGHT NOTICE

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright © 2015 Barbra Annino

  All rights reserved.

  Print version available via Createspace, United States of America.

  ISBN-13: 978-1503129511

  ISBN-10: 1503129519

  ASIN: B00VS9LU2Y

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Dane House, LLC